It is not one of those anniversaries that a country looks forward to. Next week, it will be three years since the massacre of almost the entire Nepali royal family on the night of 1 June 2001. Slaughter of a ruling clan on that scale was unprecedented in world history. Even by the standards of gory palace purges in our own past, this was such unimaginable carnage that there was no precedence in the rules of royal succession.

Yet, initially the country seemed to recover from the nightmare surprisingly unscathed. There was an orderly (given the circumstances) transition to a new king, the institutions of democracy tottered, but stayed intact. The Nepali people, used to suffering misery and shock, moved on. They blamed it all on a bad national karma and tried to put the past behind them while struggling with day-to-day survival. Making a distinction between a king and the continuity of the institution of monarchy, we looked to the future and hoped for the best.

Three years later, it is clear the Nepali people never really came to terms with that tragedy. By trying to forget it, many of our questions remained unanswered and the royal family remained reclusive and secretive. It was an opportunity to make a clean break with the past, adopt a new transparent royalty, reinvent a modern monarchy perhaps with a new mission for national well-being funded by a trust in the name of late King Birendra. It was a chance to project a kingship that finally took off its dark shades and made eye-contact with the Nepali people, providing benign guidance and being a unifying force.

This was necessary not just so the monarchy could regain its influence and respect, but also for the longterm survival of the institution. But there was little effort at damage control. The increasingly shrill republican slogans in the jungles, and lately on the streets, are a delayed reaction to June First. As the country descends into instability and violence, the people want a monarchy that stays above the fray as a respected symbol of unity and neutrality, not as another political power-player.

Today, even those who were earlier willing to give the new king a chance have been disappointed by what they see as his incrementally tighter squeeze on the democratic process. Even those who had no love lost for the corrupt and dysfunctional political leadership that squandered democracy are impatient with this unnecessary wait. Three weeks have passed without a government, the Maoists are massing for another blow, blockades have brought the country to its knees, the entire education system is on the verge of collapse.

However, there are indications King Gyanendra senses the national mood. Back channels are active, and there is talk of a deal with the Maoists to be announced simultaneously with the formation of a new government to hold elections within a year. If that is true, this delay in setting up a new government will be understandable.

The ghosts of the ten royals who perished on 1 June 2001 at Narayanhiti will not rest in peace until the kingdom itself is at peace again.