"I became quite disheartened with Kathmandu's intellectuals, and till today the feeling persists. They love to highlight unimportant matters.they are big on discussion, but do not give a paisa of support.I think this kind of thinking is still prevalent in Kathmandu today, a mindset that does not accept democracy, one that only likes to argue and create unnecessary complications by giving importance to inane ideas."

- BP Koirala in Atmabrittanta: Late Life Reflections

Not much has changed since BP Koirala wrote those lines describing Kathmandu during the Rana days. Kathmandu Valley's comfortable classes are still "arguing and creating unnecessary complications". Indeed, much of the ills of the Nepali state can be traced to the capital's ingrained inability to include the hinterland.

There is something in the topography of this Valley that keeps us from feeling the anguish of the rest of Nepal. The frog-in-pond mentality used to be ascribed earlier to the NBC (Newar, Bahun, Chhetri) who made up the Valley establishment. Today it includes everyone who moves here. It certainly afflicts the business elite, and sometimes traps donors and diplomats.

Kathmandu's socio-political sinkhole sucks us in, making us blas? about death and mayhem outside. We just shrug when we hear of Maoist extermination or the security force\'s impunity against innocents. Development grinds to a halt, but we're not worried as long as Kathmandu's construction boom does not suffer. The rest of the country's pain has actually become the Valley's gain, as people flee to the capital with what little they have.

One of the pampered symbols of Kathmandu-centricism is the two-day weekend that the Valley enjoys that the rest of the country, for some absurd reason, doesn't. Another is the $200 million gift Kathmandu has awarded itself to bring glacial melt through a 25km tunnel from Melamchi to quench its thirst. Plugging leaking mains, managing distribution and establishing reservoirs within the Valley would have cost a lot less. But we love to splurge.

When Sher Bahadur Deuba scrapped elected local councils two years ago, there was no outrage in Kathmandu. Since October Fourth, kneejerk party-bashing is fueled and kept alive by a jaded elite made up of clans and associations who lost their grip on the polity when village politicians-turned-MPs became the new bosses. Some post-1990 national-level politicians deserve the scorn heaped on them, but tarring the selfless and accountable elected local leaders with the same brush is not just unfair but detrimental.

The uppermost strata of the country's academia, business, bureaucracy and civil society are responsible for not raising the alarm when the political parties made a mockery of democracy. Today, as a neo-conservative backlash sweeps the capital, these classes are silent again. As if an authoritarian magic wand in Kathmandu will instantly set things right. By deliberately failing to distinguish between democratic pluralism and party antics, Kathmandu seeks to maintain its centralised power base.

The country's present crisis affords an opportunity to address devolution of Kathmandu's power once and for all. Not just as a way to stop the war, but also for Nepal's sustained development.