When will misery end?

By Nitya Nanda Timsina

Dust swirls as trucks struggle up the bumpy dirt road along the riverbed. Traveling a mere 37-kilometer south of Kathmandu, we were visiting stone quarries at Dhading on an official examination of the child labor.

We were relentlessly pursuing for the best and choicest stone quarry that provided saddest spectacle of child labor in the country as our Child Development Society (CDS) earlier claimed. However, this time we expected a very little scenic splendor along the road to stone quarries we maneuvered.

We arrived at the beds of Dhadhing’s Mahesh Khola and Agara Khola along the Prithvi National Highway that employed hundreds of child labor.

The skies upward looked rather hazy. Though the winter had caste its chilling cold across the countryside, hundreds of stone crushers had been sweltering under their arms as they toiled hard at one of the dinosaurs stone quarries at the Mahesh Khola in Homesthan VDC.

At night, families hurdle in their makeshift huts made of stilt and tarpaulin standing hardly three-feet-tall on the sandy-stretch of the riverbed. During the day, even before the sun castes its luminous radiance bringing warmth, these people limp through the piles of gravel they made the other day counting them. "Each pile could fetch sometimes 16 rupees depending upon how hard we worked," said an elderly man bending over a heap of gravel and crushing the stones ferociously. Children smeared in dusts move along sides the riverbed their parents crush stones. Some tiny tots pick up half-eaten banana and sugarcane thrown by the visitors and munch at them. Some in their hollow eyes look around in hopelessness unable to find the same.

In the confines of a competition to earn money that goes primarily towards feeding their children, parents of these children seemed to have no exit from the profession of stone-crushers.

For those who think that life is a worth living, they have rushed here while those who had been fed up with the life that knew no rest from suffering and miseries, seemed to have perished on the river-bed, both home and graveyard to quarries’ labors.

Estimated 4000 children are still working at the stone quarries. ‘There are more under-aged girl-child in this category,’ said Gokarna Rupakheti, CDS Counsellor.

"Most children working here are under 16 years and below," he added. Plagued by poverty, underdevelopment and unemployment, Dhading’s Homesthan VDC unravels a spectacle of country’s largest labors leading the austere life of stone crushers. The primary culprit of a situation throwing thousands here for a job on the riverside is poverty, over-population and staggering unemployment.

For quite sometimes, human sufferings on these riverbeds have failed to arouse dialogue of the deaf. Now visitors in the region can do more than stare at the vast stretched riverbed, home to the country’s staggering 26,000 labor leading life devoid of a barest minimum requirement of life.

Lorries carrying junk of gravel rattled at the distance nearly splitting our ears when we moved to a school run by CDS that housed 250 children, 80 percent of whom belonged to the stone crushers. There was widespread jubilation upon our arrival at the school. Children welcomed us in a visually exciting display of colorful cultural programs. The children singing the welcome songs offered us posy. Some chanted poems advising what a citizen ought to do for his country.

"I eat Chiura and Kalo chiya as breakfast before I come to school," said a 13-year-old Santosh Mudel, who lives across the riverbed along with his parents. He has been put to a school run by NGO after his parents fled home in pursuant of a job at the stone quarries. They came from Sarlai nine months ago.

Of late, the CDS and a few other child-centered NGOs decided to form a crusade against the hardships facing this forgotten generation leading a dismal life along the riverside when they flung open the doors for educating their children. It was in 1999 that the donor aid started to arrive in the ravaged riverside when two day-care centers; a child club and a school got opened for these children.

But for those already attending their 20th birthday, it had done a disservice. However, the CDS officials said they are running a non-formal education for those left out in the cold and for those bent by age but still working as labour.

I have regularly visited schools in Kathmandu and other parts of Nepal but had not had the glimpses of a school that housed a large number of disadvantaged children, whose parents have hardly any time for them.

I must have been living in fantasy unable to believe that children in Nepal had so much of problem to be able to grow up and get good education. I could imagine an elephantine problem confronting the future of the kids whose parents are born labour. Children huddled up in the classroom in their scarce clothing touched me profoundly, especially their parents insisting them from behind saying," Babu! You must lead a free life away from this stone quarry when you grow up...that’s why you are here..."

Their school resembled an old countryside farmhouse. It looked dilapidated, short of tumbledown mansion like a death trap for these children. It could be blown off any time. Yet, for the enthusiasm these children have for education, even the worst form of catastrophe that may hit them in the form of rain or wind will even cry for help to see them bury beneath the trouble.

Time is Short 

By Vidwata Bahety

Very often in life it happens that we are bereft of all hopes. Small disappointments make life appear like one dark night that has no morning to it. Simple incidents and trivial setbacks are some times enough to transform the liveliness of our tender hearts into remorse. Simple incidents like departure of a dear friend or a beloved from one’s life create a void in life that we deliberately never attempt to fill again.

Why is it that we shut out happiness and choose to live in pain? Is it actually very difficult to let go the memories? Or could the reason be that it is easy to cling to one’s sorrow and to burrow oneself in lonely solitude than to bravely fight off the grief.

In one such hour of unhappiness, a pensive soul sits in a corner to muse over the melancholic rhymes of heartache. He is mourning for her. She, his sweet love has abandoned him. Yet, lost in her thoughts he sings in her praise and all the while desperately wants her back into his life. And knowing well that she would never return to him he accuses his destiny of foul play and continues to grieve.

Even so at the heart of his despair he experiences an amazingly wonderful feeling. A feeling of being superbly drunk that comes out of the resolution of not letting oneself to be consoled. A feeling that lives in every heart that embraces pain, a feeling that quivers in those moistened lips, wet with the wine of ache. And in this stupor he wrings his heart and bruises himself deeper and deeper with each remembrance of hers.

Time is short. Yet he whiles away his precious days penning ode to her in his solitary recluse. The spring that is here today will come to an end tomorrow. The flowers will fade and the youth will wane. Wouldn’t he realise until it is too late?

Should he not go once again in the garden and receive the spring with joy? Will it not be foolish and rude if he should neglect the beautiful rains that wait to wet his thirst? Or is it wise that he should let time slip by while he holds on to that one flower she had gifted him long ago and continue to unfairly punish himself with the soreness of separation?

* " Should I neglect all this to gaze after one who has turned her back on me?

That would be rude and foolish, for time is short."

Suddenly a fresh face peeps in through the half-shut window of his room. Her anxious eyes meet his saddened gaze. He reflects upon her bright imploring eyes.

* "My love you know we are mortals.

Is it wise to break one’s heart for the one who takes her heart away?

For time is short."

Life is but a dewdrop dancing on the edge of a leaf, which sparkles for a little while before it ruptures finally. So is it sensible to squander away the lovely spring lamenting for the one who has left you to the lone autumn?

He finally confesses to himself that the frail flower pressed to his bosom has faded now and only the stings of the thorns continue to persist.

Lest the tears created an ocean of grief, her sunshine dried them up. Blooming affection begins to paint the sky above with a colourful arch. They look at the rainbow together. She smiles. He wipes away his tears and he smiles back as the tune of his melancholic song changes, for indeed time is short.

( *lines excerpted from " The Gardener", by Tagore )

Who is responsible?

By Rupak Thapaliya

When you walk in the street, you are bound to see heaps of waste alongside the street. Be it the old or the new Baneshwore, be it the tourist center Thamel or the busy New Road or a quiet ring road, you will encounter heaps of wastes. You can consider yourself lucky if you don’t. Scenes of cyclists wearing masks and passers-by covering their nose have become rather common. I am talking here of the solid waste that is dumped haphazardly on the streets of our capital. Yes, that very stinky, foul and dirty waste.

Well, we see the waste in the roadside, but what do we do? Just blame the municipality and the government. Don’t we? Almost all of us curse the municipality for not picking up the waste. And what do the experts do? They recommend. They hold seminars and workshops and they suggest the government. What do the people do? They blame. They blame the government, they blame the municipality. But how many of us are aware that the government does not produce waste by itself, nor does the municipality. How many of us are aware that "we" are the producers of waste and that in case we want a cleaner Kathmandu, we have to bear the responsibility. Simply blaming the government does not solve the problem. What might is, consciousness among the people and action likewise. It is high time that we blame ourselves for producing waste. This does not, of course, mean that we should not produce waste at all. Obviously waste will be produced if we are to live a life. But the question here is our habit of producing waste.

Let’s take few examples, in this context.

People here have the habit of throwing waste in the street. If one opens a pack of chocolate or a gum, he simply throws it in the road without looking for or even waiting for a proper place to dump. I agree, our streets don’t have waste containers but could we not wait till we reach home where wastes are picked every morning. Or instead of throwing just there, why not throw it where a heap is already there. This causes less scattering of waste which makes the streets a little better and it will also be easier for the waste collectors to collect them.

Our housewives never have the habit of taking a bag from home to bring back consumer goods from the market. It has been a trend to keep each item in a separate plastic bag. When they arrive home, plastics are gathered and thrown. Next time, when they go to the market, they bring home another set of brand new plastic bags to avoid this situation. The first thing they could do in this case is taking a bigger bag from home. Next, they could buy a bigger plastic bag and thus use fewer bags. Thirdly, they could keep the plastic bag for the next shopping. This way, wastes could be reduced significantly.

Another major trend that prevails in our society is what is called the "At My Back Syndrome" which implies our habit of throwing wastes in the backyard. We don’t consider the health and environmental hazards it might cause, but take it as harmless if we just do not see the waste. This habit needs to be changed too.

Almost 80% of the waste in the streets of Kathmandu are of organic nature and these are the ones that stink. This means that they are biodegradable. Bulk of the waste consists of vegetable and fruits waste that comes from households. We could help in reducing wastes if we handle the degradable wastes at our own houses. An appropriate method of dealing with organic wastes is "Composting". Composting of degradable wastes can significantly reduce the amount of wastes produced from our households and this directly reduces the amount of wastes in the streets.

Since, we are the producers of waste, we should bear the responsibility to help in its proper management. One way to do so is to produce less waste. Now, you might think what good will it do if I am the only one. But remember "I" and "I" make up "We" and also remember that drops of water make up the ocean. Even if each house reduces the waste by half a Kg each day, then almost around 20 to 30 thousand Kgs of wastes will be reduced and that is a relief both for the municipality and for us.

It is high time we stop blaming others and start acting towards producing less waste to help in its disposal. It is our own job now to make our streets cleaner and help Kathmandu look better. After all, we are the ones who live here.

Heritage tour
Bagmati ghat Grand shrine along the holy river 

By Razen Manandhar

few people of the modern Kathmandu may know that just at the other side of the busy Teku Thapathali road, there is a vast treasure of cultural heritage along the bank of the holy Bagmati river, stretching for around two kilometres. Around two dozen major temples, mostly built in the politically defamed Rana period of the 19th century.

From the confluence of Bagmati and Bishnumati River at Teku, just behind the central office of Kathmandu Metropolitan City to the Temple of Gorakhnath at Thapathali, on the way to Patan, the temples are positioned in a series, and countless small Hindu and Buddhist idols are also scattered by the river, some of them might be the popular Uma-Maheshowr of the 7th century too.

The main temples in this area are Janga Hiranya Hem Narayan, Narmadeshowr Shivlinga, Tripura Sundari, Radhakrishna, Purneshwor, Dakshinkali, Radhakrishna, Ram, Shivalaya, Ban Bikateshowr, Panchamukhi Mahadev, Radhakrishna, Jagannath and Pachali Bhairav.The temples came into existence from early 19th century to 20th century. Among them, the open shrine of Pachali Bhairav bears inscription of 1649 AD whereas many of the temples in the river bank were erected after the First Rana Prime Minster Janga Bahadur Rana chose the holy river bank to experiment with the European architecture with fusion of Nepali traditional architecture.

The characteristic of this heritage area is that one can find temples built in various lapse of time and obviously, it can be seen in thevariety of architecture and use of building materials. Where the shrine of Pachali is a simple open shrine where the formless idol of the Bhairav is lying on the ground, the temple of Tripura Sundari, made in 1818 AD is a masterpiece of Nepali pagoda. Similarly, the temple of Ban Bikateshwor, made in 19th century is a unique type of temple that has three separate temples inside one. And the dome shaped Janga Hiranya Hem Narayan, built in 1874 AD, is also an example of its kind with Mughal dome and four brass lions on four corners.

The bank of river has been a holy site, an abode of the "Mother Bagmati", since civilization germinated in the Kathmandu Valley. So, the part of the river bank that lies the nearest to the old Kathmandu has been considered as pious. This is also the southern end of the old Kathmamndu.

Beside the religious shrines, the river bank itself is no less religious. After the famous Aryaghat of Pashupatinath, this is the most cared, protected and widely visited river bank of the Bagmati. Thus this part of the bank plays a vital role to make whole river, no matter how it looks like now, religious and make it a cultural part of the Kathmanduites.

There are four major ghats in area, stretching from west to east : Bagmati Ghat, Kalmochan Ghat, Bhagwateshwor Bhat and Pachali Ghat and Teku Dovan Ghat. Among them, the last one, Teku Dovan Ghat must be the oldest considered as a legendary saint called Ne first chose this pious confluence where the Vishnumati river comes to mix with the Bagmati to set up the valley as a centre of civilization, thousands of years ago.

Among others, the temple of Rikheshwor draws thousands of female pilgrims on the day of Rishi Panchami that falls on the month of July. On this day, the pilgrims offer special rites to the phallic idol of Lord Shiva for the long life and prosperity of their husbands.

And the Bagmati ghat is specially remembered on the month of Magh (December-January) when people visit there on chilly mornings, take holy bath and enjoy wood-firing by the river.

But when we talk about its present, we can hardly see something like conservation is taking place, excluding one or two temples getting face-lift at snail-speed. There is a series of ruined temples, debris and carelessly scattered archaeological idols.

The grandchildren of the makers of the temples are trying their luck to make the area their private by destroying historical evidences. And to your surprise, professionals like lawyers and close relatives to police officers have been found erecting concrete buildings on the ghat area. And martial arts centres are opened in the fragile traditional buildings near the central office of Kathmandu Metropolitan City itself.

The ancient holy temples and sattals are turned squatters’ squares in these days. In almost every beautiful, artistic and traditional buildings, built to give shelter to the pilgrims, one can find squatters living rightfully. Neither the government has done anything to drive them away nor has any local representative played role to evacuate the area and maintain its original significance.

Department of Archaeology, UNESCO and John Sanday Consultants prepared projects for conservation of Teku Thapathali Monument Zone in 1996 but it did not materialized.

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