The days leading up to one (or either, really) of Nepal’s two biggest holidays are not ideal for going across town. Everyone’s got somewhere to be, there’s a lot of last minute shopping and general movement.
But my laptop decided it was the perfect time to go on the blink, so I found myself crossing the river to the service center in Lalitpur two days running.
Yesterday, when I dropped it off, was busy but not overly so. Today was another story. Somewhere around Sundhara I hit a block of motionless vehicles and decided to dart off into the backroads. Of course, I wasn’t the only one with that idea, and soon I was too deep in the alleys to go back. Eventually there was a snag that really didn’t want to move, so I joined team let’s-drive-down-tiny-lanes-and-see-where-they-go. After a few dead ends our posse managed to skip the worst of it—two-wheelers for the win—but the detour had turned me around a bit.
Past temples and streetside vendors: marigold garlands and those interesting citrus fruits that pop up at this time of year, shining brass vessels and grass brooms, so you can get your house clean for the holidays with not just a broom, but a brand-new broom.
It’s always good to come out of an unknown alley and see a river. Then it’s just a matter of following it (hopefully in the right direction) until you see a familiar bridge. It’s also gratifying to think I’m pretty sure I know where I am… and see the expected building, or bridge, or road—all of the above, in this case—loom up in front of you. It’s been a while since I’ve done this and I’m enjoying the festive mayhem, the sun shining on the Bagmati River as I cross it.
The service center is festive, too, grouped around a Nepal-shaped mandala they’re in the process of creating with colorful powder; they were just starting on the flag. Laptop secured, I head for home, following the Bishnumati River, the way I should have come except I was tired and drove on autopilot the usual way. This particular river road is a pleasant stretch, not nearly as busy as the central arteries, even today. There are birds and kites and the bustle of life. And a great mural.
There was more traffic once I left the river road to turn back inside, but that was to be expected and everyone seemed in a jovial mood despite it. And soon I’m in my own alley, steering clear of the little herd of children and their firecrackers.
The neighbourhood is lit up, streams of red and yellow and green and blue and purple and pink, cascading down buildings everywhere.
It’s been a long day, and it’s good to be home and listen to the excited children down below from a remove, the happy shrieks punctuated with the occasional pop of a firecracker and bookended by some live music off somewhere. Several rooftops are hosting small gatherings, and one parapet sports a perfect line of diyas.
There’s a sound of overflowing water, but it’s just the partially constructed building at the back getting a good watering, so the concrete will stay damp till work resumes after the holidays. It’s a storey higher than it was when I wrote about it two weeks ago and we’re still waiting to see where it will stop.
