This is what our democracy has come down to: firing off cannons in Tundikhel at the break of dawn on Democracy Day. Maybe that is?because we are now a Federal Democratic Gun Tantric country?
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There is now proof that the Ass is not the only Jackass in town, we are populated by other philistines. When Hariprasad Chaurasia, the famous Indian flautist, completed Song of the River at his rain-soaked concert at the embassy the other night he said he had seven more minutes and asked for requests. Someone shouted out for his famous raag Pahadi. There were guffaws from the boorish Forum wallahs at the head table who shall remain nameless to protect them from national embarrassment.
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It was a sight to see how the roar of Baddie Chair Comrade Owesome has now turned into a meow. His speech at the CA the other day, in which he grudgingly accepted Subhas Uncle as House Speaker, was the kind of meek whining one hears from the leader of one of the 33 smaller parties. No one used pepper spray in our parliament, but sometime one wishes someone would threaten the honourable members with mace so they’d get on with the job of constitution writing and gobarment formation.
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Kathmandu Valley’s idyllic setting is enhanced by the bucolic rivers, streams, brooks, and creeks that gurgle through our great capital. Every ancient civilisation is known by its rivers, a river is for a civilisation what a flush tank is for a WC. Take the Nile Valley Civilisation, the Euphrates Civilisation, or in our own neck of the woods, the Tukucha Open Sewer Civilisation.
After a brief inspection trip, I am glad to report that fears of the imminent collapse of the Kathmandu civilisation are grossly exaggerated and everything is hunky-dory in the boondocks. Unlike sterile European rivers, Kathmandu’s waterways are a biodiversity sanctuary, teeming with microscopic organisms like the Vibrio cholerae and the Salmonella typhi which we have rescued from the brink of extinction.
Sampling the aroma of Kathmandu’s rivers is an art, a bit like wine rating and is only for the connoisseurs. After my tour of the rivers, here is the Ass’ verdict:
1. Bagmati at Thapathali: Brut non-vintage redolence, the light-golden straw-colour with its effervescent bubbles. Very soft on the nose, rich and well-structured with a powerful aftertaste of fresh gundruk.
2. Bishnumati at Teku: Deep green and translucent, with an attractive nose and intense notes of semi-digested gorgonzola. It is supple on the palate, round, velvety but well-balanced, and very reminiscent of a vintage 1997 Jamuna Effluence.
3. Tukucha at Rastriya Samachar Samiti: The anaerobic fermentation of the sludge releases an olfactory elegance conveying the nostalgic memory of Accham district before it was declared Open Defecation Free.
4. Manohara at Pepsi Cola: Even from the bridge, one’s nostrils are overpowered by the fragrance of this great river. There is slight hint of roasted almonds superseded by a bouquet of buffalo innards. This robust river is not for the faint-hearted.
5. Hanumante at Thimi: Among the reds, this one needs an honourable mention. It is a deep crimson since it is situated downstream from a carpet dyeing unit. Against the light, it looks full-blooded and is imbued with a racy nose with a hint of licorice, a touch of gameyness, and the plethora of unidentified floating objects (UFOs) giving it a full-bodied fruitiness.
6. Bagmati at Chobhar: This is a premium red with a purply hue and a tangy whiff of over-ripe durian. There is slight sparkling effect due to incomplete enzyme activity, giving it a rich and persistent champagne-like finish.