Someone stop me right now before I get carried away and write another column about the successfully-concluded SAARC summit. ("Let Us Grandly Succeed the SAARC!" - Meow-Meow Chow-Chow Pvt Ltd). Go on, restrain me, otherwise I will have to involuntarily unleash yet another glowing tribute to the concept of regional cooperation to foster crossborder tourism. (Hearty Welcome to Heads of State/Government of SAARC! - Yak Premium Filter). You mean you actually want to hear more about the SAARC Spirit of Partnership? You mean you've not had enough? You sure you don't have SAARC coming out of your ears? No kidding. All right, then, you asked for it.

Now that we have survived a major shark attack, this is the perfect timetable for our nation and people to limp back to normalcy. The all-clear has been sounded, the frenzy of deconstruction has abated, and Nepalis are slowly regaining the socio-economic rights that they had willingly sacrificed for the duration of the summit of regional hammerheads.

Much to the relief of the man-on-the-street, for instance, the Tundikhel area is now open once more for people who want to take a sun bath. And as is the case after a nice noontime nap, one can now also attend to calls of nature in broad sunlight right there on the wall opposite the PCO without facing the danger of being observed by a shark head of state (or government) speeding past on a motorcade, or an escort helicopter gunship swooping low to take a closer look at what one is up to, and catching one flagrante.

It may be hard for those in the corridors of power to imagine what a relief the lifting of these restrictions is to the man and/or woman on the street. Every activity of personal hygiene was under strict scrutiny, even in the privacy of one's own home. It was rather disconcerting to have your every move on the kausi under constant surveillance from an airborne early warning and control system (AWACS), and the aforementioned common person on the street had to think twice and look over his/her shoulder before caving in to the temptation of pressing one thumb to his/her right nostril and with a sharp exhalation from the lungs, expertly discharging a major glob of nasal obstruction (Warning to minors: don't try this stunt at home) right there below a large hoarding at the Tripureswor intersection that says "Heart Felt Well Come to SAARC Heads".

Lest our illustrious readers are labouring under the illusion that we are complaining about the suspension of civil liberties, let me dispel that notion right here and now. There is no gainsaying that as patriotic Nepalis, we feel no sacrifice is too great in order to impress our foreign visitors. We will willingly suspend the dumping of our trash with wild abandon on our own doorsteps (we will dump it in someone else's doorstep), we will postpone all public nose grooming, we will not sun bathe on the bridge-but only for a limited time, and only if you can get parliament to ratify the strictures with a two-thirds majority.

The question in everyone's mind right now is: when are rhinos going to be translocated to the Royal Tinkune National Park? What are we going to do with all the bed sheets that draped the city's billboards for the past two weeks? The answer to both questions: Maybe.