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I get out of the house and jump into a taxi. I need to go to New Road
and then to Tripureshwore to keep an appointment.
Driving in the city here is like playing survivor – it barely affords
you the time look around. Riding on a taxi or the pillion of a bike
allows you the luxury to survey the surroundings as you pass them. As
the driver puts his survival skills to test, I enjoy the usual scenes
of the busy streets of Kathmandu – pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes,
taxis and fancy imported cars, all jostling for the same limited
space. An interesting thought crosses my mind – when I am walking,
people in vehicles annoy me. But when I'm in a vehicle, the
pedestrians annoy me. I think I have double standards. At the moment,
the driver of a new shiny Hyundai in front of us is annoying me. He is
driving really slowly through a narrow but wide enough gap, probably
scared of scratching his new baby. A couple of years later he will be
whizzing through without a second thought. But I don't really blame
him, I used to do that with my new shoes.
Anyway, the taxi speeds past the refurbished and air-conditioned Jai
Nepal theater. I watched the third installment of the Lord of the
Rings there a couple of months ago, but it had Chinese subtitles and
had the feel of a good quality pirated VCD. A glitch towards the end
made the screen go black, prompting nearly all the people to get up
and head for the exit thinking the movie was over rather abruptly. I
spent the last few minutes of the movie rearing my legs for people
rushing back to their seats in my aisle.
As we turn into Durbar Marg, we get stuck in traffic. All the vehicles
in front of us are making U-turns. The driver says to me, "Looks like
the protests have begun. The road is blocked."
"So how do I get to New Road now?" I ask.
He suggests we go to Putalisadak and try our luck from there. I agree
and he turns left into Kamaladi. On the way, he recognizes a taxi
heading in our direction and slows down to inquire about the situation
at Putalisadak.
The other driver shakes his head and says, "Don't go there. It's a mess."
Now I'm a little frustrated. How do I get to New Road?
The driver makes another suggestion, "We could go to Thamel and drive
through the gallis to New Road."
Now why didn't I think of that when we were still at Durbar Marg? We
turn around and make our way towards Thamel. I've noticed that every
other shop here is either a money exchange center or a cyber cafe.
Competition is ripe, no doubt. We turn into the narrow street towards
the Ason area. Unfortunately, a lot of people apparently have had the
same brilliant idea. The street is clogged with an endless queue of
cars and motorbikes. I've had enough by now. I pay the driver and get
out. I make my way through the maze, at times having to squeeze
between cars that barely have an inch of space between them.
It feels like Kathmandu is divided into two worlds. The mood in the
bazaars is the same as usual, with shoppers going through their usual
routines, seemingly oblivious to the protests and clashes going on in
the main streets just minutes away. Forget the big supermarkets
cropping up everywhere in the city – this is where the real people of
Kathmandu come to shop. This is where you find a treasure you want at
any cost but still haggle for it until your throat goes dry.
I finally get to New Road. Police in riot gear are stationed near the
statue and the firehouse. I like the blue color of their uniforms, but
I see no point in the camouflage design. You can't blend in anywhere
with that distinctive color. As I take a few steps towards a shop, I
hear the shutters go down. I look at the other end of the street and
see a protest rally headed my way. Just my luck! I turn around and
walk towards Basantapur, watching the police position themselves
around the statue as I pass them again. I wait until the rally gets
closer and then duck into a restaurant to have some momos. It's the
closest I have been to a julus and I feel somewhat pleased by it. I
don't know why. I have been mightily inconvenienced today. I surprise
myself sometimes.
The protests may ultimately lead to something fruitful and will
perhaps be judged favorably by history years from now. But at the
moment, it is causing inconvenience to ordinary citizens as much as it
is drawing attention from the palace. Public transportation comes to a
grinding halt whenever the center of the city is blocked. People with
their own vehicles find ways to get to their destinations or at least
close to it, but the daily commuters get stuck in the middle of
nowhere. While the glittering stores at Durbar Marg remain open all
the time, the ordinary folks at Bagh Bazaar and Ratnapark have to
sacrifice their livelihood for the cause. Ironically, Durbar Marg is
closer to the palace than Ratnapark.
After sanity is restored at New Road, the shops reopen and I finish my
task. Now I have to get to Tripureshwore. I am already late, but I am
prepared with the most popular excuse at present – I got stuck because
of the protests. Valid too, no doubt. The situation outside the New
Road gate is still tense. After a quick soda at the soda pasal near
Ranjana Hall to replenish my energy, I walk through Khichapokhari,
Sundhara and down the beautiful walkway near Dasharath Stadium.
They've built a new gate at China bazaar on the opposite side.
Kathmandu has got its own little Chinatown. All it needs now is a
bunch of Chinese people, a couple of seafood restaurants and a few
stores with indecipherable names.
I finally make my appointment three hours late. But my excuse works
well. I look at my watch – its nearly six o' clock. I've walked a lot
and I'm tired. The protesters have probably gone home by now and the
roads have cleared up. I step outside to catch a taxi and go home. The
street seems unusually quiet. I don't see a single vehicle. I ask a
fellow pedestrian and find out that the traffic has been stopped for a
sawaari. Apparently, the sawaari also has had to dodge the protests
just like me. I have to walk again, and this time uphill. I take a
deep breath and urge my legs to move. Today has been a long day.
Note: This piece was written during the unending spate of protests
that rocked Kathmandu during the summer of 2004. Email:
bergendra@gmail.com
[ posted by
Bergendra @
07:26 AM ] | Viewed: 1832 times
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