Random hits on the keyboard

When I tell people that I start my day before 5 a.m., the usual response is something like, “You’re getting old before 50.” Maybe that’s true, however, I have many reasons to do so. One of those is that I simply get two mornings a day. There is something very amazing about waking up early. The world is less chaotic. Time feels strangely generous. It feels as if life has quietly gifted me an extra morning, one that most people sleep through. The first morning belongs entirely to me. It is the hour when the city is silent. There are a few vehicles on the road, no rush, and it feels like Kathmandu is a city of gods and goddesses. The city feels calm and patient. I can't wait to see and feel the city. Then I prepare for my run. I select a good podcast for the run. The streets are quieter, and the city feels like a different place. I feel like owning the entire city, but momentarily. Slowly, the city begins to reclaim its territory. Motorbikes appear. Buses and cars start to occupy the ...

There is a thought that keeps returning to me whenever I walk through the Kathmandu Valley. This city is not built only with bricks and roads, but with thoughts. It is a manifestation of the collective consciousness of the people who live in it. Kathmandu did not become Kathmandu by accident. It carries centuries of shared memory and many layers of collective consciousness. Every narrow alley, every temple tucked into a street corner, and every festival we take pride in are the results of what our ancestors believed in and the values they shared. Tradition and culture did not merely decorate this city; they gave it life. Then came the years of building a “modern” Nepal. The priorities shifted toward physical infrastructure. I vividly remember our first mayor promising to turn Kathmandu into Singapore. What a tragedy. In that moment, the collective consciousness of the city pushed aesthetics and identity to the back burner and focused instead on roads and high-rise buildings, often at t...

Every alternate day, I stay home in the morning. The days are for stretching and Callisthenics. I had back pain my entire life, and now, for the first time in my life, I have a painless back. I wake up at my usual time, before the city wakes up. I complete my exercise, and  I brew coffee in my moka pot—and I can tell, I’m getting better at it. I fill the bottom chamber with warm water, just below the valve. I buy beans from a particular cafe. I grind the beans in my manual crank pot. I fill the filter basket with medium-fine grounds loosely. The pot goes onto the stove and a small flame. I wait. As coffee starts to pour, I further reduce the flame. After a while, I remove the pot. I don't let the moka pot gurgle in the end.  When I pour coffee into a cup, it is strong, balanced for my taste. It is not perfect - but better. I sip it by the window, watching Kathmandu, waking up or struggling to wake up. I see what many don't see: a quiet Kathmandu - a city that is waiting to se...

“In all chaos, there is a cosmos, in all disorder, a secret order.” — Carl Jung "Kathmandu is chaotic"—I grew up hearing and believing this. It often seems as if there are no rules here, that everything runs on its own terms. Traffic is a perfect example. The roads are narrow, there are barely any footpaths, and street vendors occupy half the street. Somewhere, always, there’s road construction, sewage repair, or a new water pipeline being laid. The city is messy. But as I move around the city more mindfully, I’ve begun to notice something different—a kind of unwritten system. Amid the disorder, Kathmandu has created its own rhythm, its own way of functioning. Take traffic, for example. Everyone knows that motorbikes get preference at traffic lights. It’s not in the rulebook, but it works. Ironically, trying to strictly impose traffic regulations often creates more disorder than the chaos it aims to fix. And then there's the strange system of signalling on highways, where...

The view from my window would otherwise be of the Himalayas. Now, I only see smog and a hazy brown sky. As far as I remember, this is my first experience of this scale of pollution. As a Kathmandu dweller, I have experienced pollution to some extent, but this one is out of proportion. I was out in the evening for some time, and I felt burning eyes and throat. This worried me. The city has become the most polluted, with a hazardous level of pollution. This is due to the spike in pre-monsoon forest fires across Nepal, especially in the west and some parts of India, according to the experts.  For me, these explanations from experts have very little weightage than my experience. Burning nose and difficulty in eyes. The air pollution here is not just environmental or physiological. It’s deeply personal. It’s the story of my city, my childhood, my children—and perhaps everyone. This has worried me - the health implications of the pollution are immensely high. The old paradise is lost. Th...

We were always told a lie our whole life that Nepal is rich in water resources. We were forced to memorise it during school time, for the sake of a 'correct' answer. I have always been cynical about the fact that having huge rivers does not make us rich in any way. And I still hold it tightly like a water jar during a water crisis. I grew up in the heart of old (real) Kathmandu, densely populated where dry taps were normal. My sisters were unsung heroes, who used to fetch water from the neighbour's house. They would have easily won the Olympic medal if there had been a bucket relay match. We treated water as liquid gold. The community well pump was always out of order. Laundry had to be done when the stars aligned. Bathings were a strategic affair - sometimes head only and rarely full body. Privacy? Neighbours not only knew about our laundry cycles but could probably sketch out every mole on my body if asked. Then, one fine day, the Prime Minister made a grand promise: Mela...

After three weeks of touring, I’m finally back to my "normal" daily routine. The days now start with uninterrupted sleep, waking up before 5 a.m., and easing into familiar chores. Slowly, the city begins to feel normal again—though with its own flavor of abnormality. First of all, the most observable abnormal feature of my town is traffic. It’s hard to call it normal. Everyone would agree that the congestion is maddening, yet somehow, we’ve all learned to accept it. Consider this—Kathmandu Valley, covering just 600 square kilometers, had 1.75 million registered vehicles as of December 2022. That’s a staggering leap from 1.4 million just a year prior. The numbers must have climbed even higher in 2024 with the increased love towards electric vehicles. Most of these vehicles are privately owned, while public transportation remains chaotic at best. The irony is that the roads of Kathmandu are not designed for cars - the roads are built above farm boundaries- with no proper engine...

It was an incessant rain on 28 September 2024, the whole night and day. Kathmandu started to flood. I have never seen the Bagmati River this angry. According to the Meteorology department, this was a record-high rain in 24 hours in Kathmandu, which far exceeded expectations. Bagmati River rose up to the bridge. All houses and roads on the bank of the river were flooded. The rest of the roads in Kathmandu were quiet, whereas the roaring Bagmati continued to sweep away squatters and people. Little out of the perimeter of Kathmandu Valley, the landslide on the highway swept three vehicles killing at least 35 people. The total death has crossed 200 and the numbers continue to rise. Thousands of people were stranded on the highways, without support. It was a disaster in the true sense. Despite this, the race continued. The Kathmandu Marathon organizers decided to go ahead. The reporting time was 04:30 hrs. I woke up and got ready. It was raining. My son was supposed to run 5k but I stopped ...

Enrolling for the #KORA24 cycling event for the first time was an exhilarating decision. I chose 50 km, the shortest among 75, 100 and 140 km.  At the break of dawn, I joined a group of enthusiastic cyclists at the historic Patan Durbar Square. The sight of such a diverse assembly of participants and bicycles was something I had never experienced in the city before. The weather was perfect, setting an ideal stage for the journey ahead. For the first couple of kilometers, I rode alongside my friends. As the trail became more exciting, I found myself continuing at my own pace, mingling with different groups of cyclists before leaving them behind. Along the route, well-organized stations provided music, water, and repair services, adding to the vibrant atmosphere. The route was a captivating blend of uphill and downhill paths, weaving beneath the hills surrounding the valley. Despite living in Kathmandu for years, I was surprised to discover parts of the city I had never seen before. ...

As dawn breaks over Kathmandu, the city awakens to a symphony of contrasts. My Saturday morning journey begins from home to Indrachowk, weaving through Ason towards the vibrant heart of Thamel, and circling back home. Here, the ‘new’ Kathmandu and the ‘old’ Kathmandu coalesce into a mesmerizing mosaic. In one breath, you witness the devout, their prayers ascending with the morning incense, creating a sacred aura around the temples. In the next, a starkly different scene unfolds—a few steps away, the night owls emerge from the embrace of bars, their red eyes and smoky trails marking the end of their revelry. It’s a threshold where mornings are both started and ended, where the spiritual and the secular walk side by side, painting a vivid picture of a city that embraces all walks of life. Kathmandu, with its ever-shifting climate, is a haven for those who seek variety in the skies. A warm spell teases the senses, only to be swept away by a sudden downpour, leaving the air tinged with...

The walk around Kathmandu old town is facinating. A closer look, minutely, is always pleasant. I enjoy questioning the origin and cultural connection. In Janabahal, I saw this statue. It does not appear, originated in Nepal. This is a first statue, I see something very Roman? or European taste. This must have been donated - may be imported.   Then I walk around the inner Gallli and .... Bahal. The music, the ambience and the feeling.. is infinite.  This is Yetakha Bahal , which is derived from the Newari word. It means a South-facing luminous place, where once upon a time, used to dry rice after harvest. I visit a small alley and bahaal - spend a few minutes and .. I try to bring my son with me, to explain what I know about the place. The places that have minimum tourists.

 Finally, Kathmandu topped the list of being the first in the world. What a shame for Kathmandu dwellers - who love to talk about the god and goddesses, temples and stupas, and culture and festivals of Kathmandu.  I heard a lot, about the arati puja of Pashupati in the evening. The spirituality and religion of that event were highly recommended. I attended the arati with my family. The crowd was waiting divinely when we reached there. The first noticeable was the smell of the river. It was terrible. Bagmati is a shrine river - which turned into a sewerage. The belief of a gateway to nirvana from that river bank has vanished. A dead person, if he/she can, will prefer to keep distance from the Bagmati river for his/her cremation.  Jay Pashupati Nath, I feel for you.  This morning, I passed Teku chowk in the morning. Green leaves have budded out of the tree, declaring Spring. Again I see the heartbreaking scene. The niceness of the tree has been crushed by the road that...

Not having facebook and insta is lonely, but in a positive way. I have this post, that very few will visit compared to facebook feed. But this the whole purpose of this post is not to shout and extinct in a few days. This is to revisit, years and years later, to bring back memories. So, a usual Saturday, I had a walk to ‘core Kathmandu’ the old city that was famously claimed by supporters of Keshab Staphit. I enjoy going around the city, temples and the real old Kathmandu life. The markets and crowd are the true portray of our way of living.  The walking around Naradevi brings back memories, my childhood and all nostalgic, around those narrow streets and learning bicycle and playing around the Durbar square with friends. Walking around also reminds me of the life that I never likes to go back. The congested rooms of our old house, where we all big family used to live. The neighborhood was homogenous caste, Newar, who did not care about updates from ‘non-core-Kathmandu’. I admire th...

"August is warm in summer", says Kathmandu dwellers.  "Is it?", I question Kathmandu is one of the best places I have been to. Maybe, I am naive to think so. But, it is true that the climate is perfect for human habitat. Summer is not too summer. It is bright and sunny, and the air is cold. Rain brings freshness. The rapid population growth of Kathmandu is evidence of its exquisiteness. People may say, they dislike Kathmandu for .... whatever reason, but people do love Kathmandu for one million reasons. And Kathmandu has a big heart for everyone - it welcomes everyone. The clouds are perfect in Kathmandu, cooling the excessive heat.  @Krishna Dongol I can't miss flaunting about its festivals during Monsoon. To name a few of them, Sithinakha, Kwati Punhi, Saparu and Guulaa etc etc.  Bhanu Bhakta said......  चपला अबलाहरु एक् सुरमा, गुनकेसरिको फुल ली शिरमा। हिडन्या सखि लीकन ओरिपरी अमरावति कान्तिपुरी नगरी।। यति छन् भनि गन्नु काहाँ धनि ञाँ, खुसि छन् बहुतै मनमा दुनिञा...

I continuously switch my time zones. I see it is 07:46 PM here and I try to add 02:45 in it. F** it's not easy. I am good in mathematics but adding 2 hours 45 minutes requires supercomputing ability. I think it's stupid of Nepal to want 15 minutes time difference with India. I wish to tell to those who decide this, "Time difference and national sovereignty are not the same". But it is what it is. And also my old model Protrek watch does not have a Kathmandu time zone.  I live in two time zones, at least. My father figure is in the Kathmandu time zone. I switch and adjust myself for the Viber calls. Later, I imagine that my loved one must have had one dream by now. My professional avatar follows this location time zone, I eat my dinner in this time zone. It is chicken fried rice today and this taste very very different than in the place at +05:45 GMT. BONNUIT!