Take multiple examples of walking in the city. Where do you start walking in Kathmandu? If you are a Hindu religious person, you may suggest me to start from Pashupati area. If you have a touristic mind, you may recommend Thamel. You also may start from Babar Mahal political locality. Why not take the airport or Kalanki entry points?
From any point of departure, none of the modes of traveling – walking, riding, driving – is comfortable in Kathmandu. Walking is the most dangerous form of experience. Since you do not have pavements at many streets in Kathmandu, a heroic motorcyclist is not architecturally responsible when he hits and breaks your ribs or even kills you. Such riders are in perpetual hurry with serpentine movements in the narrowest of lanes. Since they are in youthful urgency, they naturally do not have patience to wait. They are the finest of blockers and dozers. They fill any gaps left in the multitude of vehicles. They can jump over the footpaths and blow horn on your shoulders.
If you are a gentle rider on a bicycle or on a motorbike and if you even think about following rules, you have some psychological problem. You do not belong to this city. The massive public bus can take you under its rattling belly because you are following regulations that are archaic. Likewise, driving vehicles depends on the size of the machine. There are two kinds of bullying: One by big public vehicles and the other by pricey private vehicles. They both have their moods and moves. The former looks down on cyclists and pedestrians and the latter abhors the cheaper ones. The underlying mindset is almost similar – in form and in content respectively. If you have a weaker vehicle in form and contents, you are at risk.
Next is your get-up. I have an old but heavy motorbike. I carry lots of books in my rugged bag. My helmet is changeable in shape and hence is bigger in size. One afternoon, I stopped near a smiling traffic police. I complained him about a bus parked extremely oddly in the middle of the road. He looked at me with utter surprise (my friends and students say that I look very hunky when I am on my bike) and suggested, “Why don’t you bash him yourself.” Being a good teacher by courage and nature, I obviously did not take his suggestion but I certainly grew in confidence that I can bully any other vehicle whether in form or content. But when I drive, I am a meek person on the wheels despite my appearance on the machine.
Driving vehicles depends on the size of the machine. There are two kinds of bullying: One by big public vehicles and the other by pricey private vehicles. They both have their moods and moves.
The other day, I was walking near Jamal. Someone suddenly apologized, “sorry!” I realized only by her mannerism that she had spat on my knees. I am honest: I have not even looked at her. I turned back and lost my steps and a biker rushing by jammed on his breaks and looked at me angrily. I lost my direction and hurriedly entered into a shop. I do not know why I bought the bag which I never needed to buy.
You must trust me when I claim that I am a good driver these days. I have learnt a lot, my friends say. My reputation defies my claims because the pillion-riders do not have good memories about my riding. I am a very artful rider and driver these days. The best thing I have learnt is to take small drivable lanes. You drive or ride with patience, you do not rush, and you come to know about the inner bellies of the city.
“How come you know so many Kathmandu lanes?” My friends ask me. That is a romantic trait I have inherited from my student days, they think. There is nothing romantic about knowing the lanes. The lanes are the safest places to go from place to place (except in the night). There are safe lanes in Kathmandu to reach Kirtipur from Maharajganj or Budhanilkantha from Baneshwar. But I will not share my knowledge with you! I have worked hard to know them with unromantic efforts.
Except those sacred lanes, Kathmandu is a dangerous city to walk, ride, and drive. The precarious condition is regulated by the traffic system of the city. The traffic police have lost interest in their jobs (there are always exceptions though). Their prime duty on the road is to check the documents. If you have the documents with you, the master is satisfied. Some of those lonely lanes have been turned into one-ways these days and I am very angry with the traffic.
orungupto@gmail.com
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