Now that we have handed over the governance of this country to lawyers, we can all stand back and take a well-deserved R&R, snug in the conviction that we are in capable hands, and that the legal eagles will sort everything out for us. Parliament can go into hibernate mode, political parties can do what they do best, which is tear each other's throats out in public, the army can go about shooting on sight anything that barks, the bureaucracy could take mass casual leave-not that it would make an iota of difference, the national airline can mothball all planes and get into the kitchen-gas powered tuk-tuk business, hotels can declare a two-year moratorium on guests, and we in the fourth estate can now re-direct our energies towards more gainful activities. Such as organising tri-annual staff picnics at Sundarijal. Slogan for Amazing Nepal Year 2001: "When in doubt, leave it to lawyers."

So, now that barristers are sliding down banisters in their hurry to rescue the nation, the only question we can ask is: wonder why we hadn't thought of this before? All along, we put our faith in politicians whereas we should have deployed the vastly superior legal profession. After all, didn't the courts in our country always have the locus standi to work out the status quo of an amicus curiae (not to mention the lapis lazuli) which is a priori included in the lophophorus impejanus and sine qua non of that fundamental question: quo vadis?

There has never been a busier time in the history of democratic Nepal for our court system. Plenty is going on: the Supreme Court is trying to decide whether the legitimate child of an illegitimate Nepali is eligible for citizenship, the Centre for Investigation of Abuse of Alcohol (CIAA) is busy figuring out if the Attorney General has on occasion had one too many, and the Attorney General has in turn sued the CIAA for infringing on his right to choose his own poison, a hearing is on in the case of People vs MPs for paralysing parliament, hotels and unions are in the appellate court fighting for the right to keep all tourists away, and the national airline has made a court deposition that it rented a wide-body plane so it can fly nearly-empty thus providing greater comfort and more personalised service to its passengers.

So, to figure out what on earth is going on, we finally sneaked a hidden camera inside the speaker's chamber and saw an all-party meeting in progress:

Speaker: OK, the Treasury Bench wants buff momos, and the Main Opposition wants khasi. The Smaller Left will go with khasi provided it also comes with gravy. It is now eleven at night, can I make a motion to have dinner while we wait for an all-party consensus on the lunch menu?

Nepal: Yeah, let's have dinner first. I second that motion.

Speaker: Is that OK with you, prime minister?

Koirala: My dear friend, all I need right now is a tall glass of tea.

Speaker: Good point. Marshall, tea!

Marshall: Sorry sir, hotels are on strike. There is no delivery.