As we go into another week of celebrating our prehistoric festivals and rituals with wild abandon, it is important to bear in mind the importance of conserving Nepal's cultural health, wealth and happiness. Yes, many of our age-old customs are in danger of being dragged into the limbo of forgotten things right before our wide-open eyes in broad daylight. Pretty soon, the only customs we have left will be the one at Tribhuvan International Airport.

Look, for instance, at our national past-time of partaking of a noon nap at Tundikhel. There used to be a time when Tundikhel was so jam-packed with our snoozing ancestors that it was standing room only. Latecomers had to move to Sano Tundikhel, and even that got pretty full up on some lazy winter afternoons.

But today, you'd be lucky if you saw even one person dozing there. The relentless march of time, the modern consumer culture, a creeping materialism and the rat race of our stressful lifestyle have all contributed to making this glorious practice extinct, and the nation is a whole lot poorer for it. No more can we render ourselves unconscious during daylight hours and forget the mundane cares and travails
of our rugged passage through world history.

But all is not lost. Lately, we have started seeing some conservation-minded people who value our priceless heritage (but unlike many of us, have decided to do something about it) trying to revive this grand tradition of national siesta. They have been caught napping at their desks at the Ministry of Rest and Recreation. The public has been requested not to create any street disturbances in the coming week, which may wake these sedated bureau cats up from deep slumber. Shhh.

On this Holi Week, we must also take a solemn oath to resuscitate another fun-filled festival which is also in danger of going the way of the woolly mammoth. We cannot bear the thought of not being able to be stoned out of our minds and lob lolas at damsels on the sidewalks, and see them totally soaked from head to toe in Bagmati water. Hahahahahaha! (Blood-curdling laughter.) So fun.

If, god forbid, Holi disappears we will no longer be able to dab war paint on our faces and prowl neighbourhood streets ambushing innocent passersby and rubbing cadmium-rich red vermilion powder into their eye sockets. Harharhar-de-harhar! (Boisterous chortle and guffaw.) So laughable, yar.

However, it is my sad duty to bring to my mirthful readers' notice that these fun and games, these magnificent customs may soon be a thing of the past. They are now under threat from an administration notification that miscreants creating a nuisance will be nabbed on the spot on a strict first-come-first serve basis so that no untoward incident takes place. Afterall extraordinary times demand extraordinary measures, and we cannot sit idly by while this country goes down the pichkari tubes.