It is an indication of the tremendous gender balance in our society that next week we celebrate Guy Jatra, and a week after that we mark Tij. The latter is a festival in which members of the female species from all walks of wife re-dedicate themselves to their profession by undertaking 24-hour relay hunger strikes at cardinal points in the city to wish their present or future husbands health, wealth and happiness.

Those who, for technical reasons, don't wish their current spouses to have any of the above, will have no other alternative but to move on to the seventh phase of their agitation which, they hasten to warn, is going to be decisive, and could turn violent. Anyway, it's the thought that counts.

Some of the more passionate women I know say they will not even swallow their saliva during this period as they pray intensely for their husbands to be inducted into the next government line-up. Good luck.

Among our upcoming festivals, my own personal favourite is Guy Jatra. It is a very funny fesitival and a time for us guys to forget our cares and worries, let our hair down, and cast doubts about the gender, if any, of the Rt Hon Prime Minister and members of his and/or her cabinet. Why exactly this particular festival ended up getting the sex of our rulers mixed up has a long and glorious history which I will tell you about some other time.

Suffice it to say for now that Guy Jatra is the time when us macho menfolk of this kingdom get a temporary license to make complete asses of ourselves by behaving as we always do in everyday life. Here is a short questionnaire to ascertain whether you have what it takes to be a Full-blown Nepali Alfa Male. (Warning: readers who are currently eating are warned in the interest of public safety to stop doing so and have barf bags handy.)

Q: As a just-about-average Nepali male, what do you when you are by yourself, and certain that no one is looking:

a. Put your hand in your pocket and vigorously attend to a subterranean itch.
b. Attend to aforementioned itch even if someone is looking, after all it's an emergency.
c. Go to a nearby mirror and squeeze blackheads from your nose cone.
d. Sharpen the non-flammable end of a matchstick and use it as NASA would the robotic arm of the Mars Explorer to reach hitherto unexplored and remote caverns in your mouth cavity containing fossil remains of last year's Dasain goat, and dispatch the specimen for further olfactory inspection and disposal.
e. An essential feature of human existence is breathing, and for this it is of paramount importance that we keep our pulmonary tubes clear. The user manual that comes with every male Nepali lays down strict procedures to periodically clean our carburettor filters. Most models have an automatic self-clearing device which at regular intervals dislodges obstructions with a sharp intake of air through the nostril which propels said glob from the nasal cavity into the oral cavity whence it can be either defenestrated with a smart 'pthoo' through the window into the street below, or ingested into the alimentary canal as a protein-rich nutrient. Either way, it is a disgusting habit that all Nepalis proudly call our own.
f. Who said press freedom in Nepal had been curtailed? This column proves we can get away with writing any rubbish. Right, then. If you ticked all of the above, congratulations. You are the proud recipient of this year's Guy Jatra Mr Revolting Nepal Contest.