City wanderings

where there's changes afoot

Something cool’s happening on Bhagawati Marg, on the Naag Pokhari side; it was dug up a while ago, and today I discovered the narrow road still closed to cars, but in the process of being beautifully transformed, with a clear focus on the area’s traditional elements. The space around the temple has been opened up, and more is clearly planned there. For years I barely noticed this temple, until I saw it from a window high up in the nearby Marriott Hotel four or five years ago, and was struck by its clarity amongst the surrounding buildings when seen from above. It’s nice to see it more visible today and I’m curious as to how they are going to finish the space around it.

The road itself is being paved with stones, and already looks so much nicer; a little further ahead, the area’s dhunge dhara, or hiti (traditional communal water spout) is getting a facelift as well. And at the end of the short block, at its little chowk, a small shrine I believe has always been there but was basically in the road—it is below ground level—has had its circumference built up around with new bricks.

Broken and repurposed bricks are are being put to use, too, along with chunks of concrete and whatever else needs using up, as the neat base layer of what will soon be a sidewalk.

Closing this area off to vehicles—bikes and scooters are parked throughout, but clearly belong to residents and business owners, no one’s driving—has given this busy little road a sort of cheerful alley vibe, people walking and chatting, just hanging out. Newer shops and eateries sit alongside ones that have been here generations, all more noticeable now that there’s room to wander instead of having to focus on dodging traffic in the narrow space. I ask a few people if this is to remain a walking street and they say yes, maybe, without certainty. Maybe it hasn’t been decided yet. I’ll have to come back and see.

On I continue with my walk to the post office, passing waves of students exiting a college, jubilant, hugging each other, faces and clothes smeared with celebratory color. Closer up, I can see the white shirts of their uniforms filled with handwriting, wishes and insider jokes and parting words in English and Nepali, new graduates turning a garment they plan to never wear again into a cherished memory.