Losing our own private Eden
When one runs away from something, one almost certainly finds it everywhere one goes
By Anand Gurung
One of the many drawbacks of living in a city like Kathmandu is that one drastically loses touch with nature. Given to few parks and open spaces, Kathmandu seems increasingly getting choked with concrete buildings built in a haphazard way to make room for its growing population. Unplanned and mismanaged, vehicles have grown in an unprecedented manner in Kathmandu, owing to which its streets remains clogged with smoke, pollution and dust. Pavements have been taken up by vendors, and if not that, filth, and only the remains of what used to be trees exists along the roadside. It is increasingly becoming unbearable to live in the urban nightmare that is Kathmandu. Of course, there are still things that a person can be proud of in and about the city – the splendid temples, rich culture and other architectural heritages, but even they stand in a decrepit and crumbling state. Of course, it is we, the inhabitants of this city, who are responsible for the sorry state this once beautiful and lush green valley finds itself at present.
One realizes how living a mundane existence in Kathmandu is growing on you when one leaves the general chaos of its urban sprawl and heads to places lying just 40 or 50 minutes away from its environs. One doesn’t even need to go very far.
And this became clear last time when I set out on a small journey with my friend to where a city dweller can take some fresh air in strolling among the sylvan environs and, well, take a break from hectic city life by being close to nature.
Being Saturday and a holiday, we were off to Godavari, from where the Fulchowki hills, which we planned to climb, was a straight 4 hours uphill trek. Once we left the relatively quiet Kathmandu city (being Saturday) and were racing away to our destination we could easily make out that many people had somewhat the same plan like us. We saw families’ zoom past us in their cars and jeeps, and young couples or maybe newlyweds on motorbikes for their Saturday sightings beyond the city limits. If daylong rigorous hiking was not their idea of a nice and cool Saturday, many among them were certainly heading to the Godavari Botanical Gardens.
Soon we reached our destination. We got off from the van with other passengers among which was a playful couple who chatted and held hands and looked out of the window all through the small journey. They all made their way towards the botanical gardens. Our way was different, and knowing that it could take us a whole day to do the trekking, we bought ourselves water and something to eat if we felt hungry along the way.
After asking few details about the trek with the shop lady we headed to Tindhara, a traditional water-spout from where she said we can find a short cut route up to the crest of the hill.
When we had boarded the van the day was fine and lovely with the sun against the blue sky. But now the weather dramatically changed and dark clouds had taken the sun’s place and we were praying that the rain wouldn’t come. Soon there was slight drizzle, but still we hoped it will subside. Two girls who were walking far behind a little while ago caught us up running in the rain, and we asked them the direction to Tindhara. The girls were also going there and so we walked with them. The rain was coming like spray to us with the slight breeze, as we were walking down the road.
After we reached the waterspout, the girls, knowing that we were going up to Fulchowki, smiled and just pointed us the way that meandered up from the temple by the side of the waterspout. Then they quickly went inside the temple while we took the direction the girls had shown us. No sooner we started our journey the drizzle gave way to large drops of rain, but we still carried on thinking that it may soon stop. But the trail had started to become muddy and slightly slippery and seeing that it would be foolish to proceed further we decided to call it off not even 10 minutes into our trek. As we were coming down a young couple was making their way up, hand in hand, heaving, their clothes, faces and hairs all soaked up with rain, but they didn’t seem to care, and they just took quick steps up not so much even throwing a glimpse at us while passing by.
We were telling each other how foolish it was of us to plan this trek in the rainy season drying ourselves on the eves of the temple, just when the two girls we had earlier met came out from the temple. We told them that our plan fell through because of the rain and that we were stuck now. The girls smiled perhaps taking a pity at us, pulled out their umbrellas deftly from their bags, opened it, and were off. But then they had not even gone few steps away when one girl turned and waved at us to come with them. My friend needed nothing, he ran towards the girls. I followed him.
On our way back we introduced ourselves. The two girls said they were friends, but my friend, as he always had to make a clever remark, said they could pass as sisters. This made them laugh and our conversation became lively. Both girls were from Patan, and had been to three temples since morning. This amazed us. One girl was slightly chubby with long hair and lovely smile and another was, well the usual pretty kind. As my friend was engaged in a girl-boy talk with the chubby girl, me and another girl had no option but to make passing remarks about the weather, about the nice Godavari school, and about nothing in particular.
The weather was indeed erratic (Not erotic, as one of the girl had wrongly heard my friend). Soon the rain stopped. After we came up to the place where the van had earlier left us my friend offered the girls for tea, but both denied. Instead they said they were going to the botanical gardens and that if we want we could join them.
The sun was up again as we made our way to the garden and it was bright, especially the rain soaked black-topped road to the garden glistened in the brilliant sun.
The Godavari Botanical Gardens, like other parks in the outskirts of Kathmandu like Balaju and Tribhuvan Park (and unlike Ratnapark which has become a place for pickpockets, job seekers and tramps; political guffaws, gay parades and amazing theatricals), is where big and small families and friends come for picnic, feasting and frolic and where one can see many couples just strolling about or sitting together holding each others’ hands; locked in tight embraces of each other or stealing kisses while still aware of the passersby. We would have certainly not come to this garden if it was not for the girls. No matter how beautiful the gardens may be, the sights of other couples lost in their love for each other surely make the heart of any single guy or girl leap with anxiety!
We didn’t regret that we couldn’t make it up to Fulchowki, cause it was fun strolling along the promenade with the girls in the mild sun just after a heavy rain. To see them splashing water at each other at the small stream and smiling and giggling and see them run. We went to the wonderful green houses, adored orchids, flowers and amazing plants and trees with difficult names. Pricked our fingers while feeling the cactus plant, watched a shooting of a Nepali music video, and just walked talking to each other, and occasionally commenting on the wonderful surroundings. It was wonderful to see the sun through the trees. Couples sitting under it for shades, or just walking by avoided us thinking us to be just another couple like them. But occasionally men in pairs or in small groups ogled at every other couples. Families and friends in large groups feasted, drank, laughed and shot photos and they were lost in their own world, what the couples did privately at some secluded spot in the garden was none of their concern. The day among flowers and trees, among the green lawns and ponds, strolling with new friends was a joy!
Living in Kathmandu one also invariably forgets how time flies by among natural surroundings. It was already becoming late for the girls, they had to go, if not they would have to make all sorts of excuses back home. My friend and I wanted to stay, it was pleasant just strolling and sitting there in the grass and looking at other people about their business. But then it was becoming late for us too and since all of us were heading back to the city anyway, we decided to get the same van. The couple we had seen making their way up earlier were in the front seat of the van. They were sitting tightly together, the girl leaning her head on the guy’s shoulder. It is nice to look at people in love!
As the van took up speed and we left Godavari Gardens far behind us there was a certain quietness among the passengers, as if the calmness, the serenity of the Godavari gardens and its environs had seeped into them. But one wondered how long will its beauty last? Till how long it would take us to turn Godavari garden into another Ratna Park? One look outside the window and the answer was all there to see. Passing were the same kind of ugly houses and buildings (and a computer institute, just imagine) -- sprinkled here and there in an unplanned manner-- like the ones that has completely defaced Kathmandu. And we hadn’t even touched the fringes of the city. It all seemed to scream that it won’t take much time for us to lose the few Eden we have in the country.
We were approaching the ring road; and paddy fields and open spaces were few and far between, but we knew that it won’t take much time for those to be filled up with concrete houses, and with it all things that make cities so dreadful. Everywhere one looked one saw houses, and though the few built by rich people (who were apparently escaping from Kathmandu again) were splendidly well made with a certain sense of style, it gave a signal that Kathmandu is swelling, and its seams are now unable to hold back its ugliness and it is bursting into Budhanilkantha, Sundarijal, Godavari, Dhulikhel, Nagarjun, Nagarkot -- places where people go to escape Kathmandu in the first place. Though some outlying parts of Kathmandu valley are still pristine and uncorrupted by the city’s influences, it is all a matter of time when they too are lost forever to concrete buildings, filth, dirt and pollution. Then people would stop coming to Nagarkot and Godavari, cause they would have already brought the city to these places, and they, like we had earlier planned but without success, have to trek to Fulchowki or some other hills to be closer to nature, or maybe even beyond that. When one runs away from something, one almost certainly finds it everywhere one goes. nepalnews.com July 25 07
(The writer can be reached at andygurung@yahoo.com)
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