Hearing of the violence in Kailali, my first reaction was to chide myself for posting about the Valley’s half-bandh. My jokey tweet now appeared wholly inappropriate, and irrelevant. I deleted it. I began scrolling through the fragments of news reaching me through the wires. The act of reacting to the carnage both tamped down my […]

“Widespread narratives of migration always involves dukha,” explained Sharma. But migration is also associated with freedom. “How do we understand this conflict?”

The sudden consensus of the ruling parties to formulate a national constitution post-earthquake indicates nothing more than a very manipulative kind of political will.

Bimire looked like it had been bombed inside-out, with its inhabitants’ lives and belongings on display – carefully painted pink walls exposed, posters of Bollywood movie stars ripped, beautifully carved windows and doors half broken.

Kathmandu is now a metropolis of several million, the three elegant Malla city-states merged into a single smoke-spewing conurbation of higgledy-piggledly concrete and steel constructions.

The Saturday night a week after the earthquake was stunning. The moon, almost full, washed Patan in lucid, white light – a strange, calm juxtaposition to the recent calamity.

“It’s like someone came and bombed this place, dai,” Sashi told me, breaking into that familiar and mischievous smile.

Road dividers in Kalimati are subtly deranged: a rough linearity is visible, until you approach them with attentiveness. You see that they have been jostled, thrown off-kilter, made unruly because they have been shaken out of alignment. From afar, the rush and jolt of Kalanki’s bottleneck traffic appears routine, until you cockroach your way closer […]

“Hodgson?” she asked. “Here’s your book,” and she handed me a thick, insect-ravaged volume. The spine was falling off. I untied the tape that held it closed and the fan blew the top page away.