Mobility is survival. It wasn’t taught to me, I learnt it by moving. As life in Kathmandu has been crippled with the shortage of fuel (gas, diesel, petrol etc) I realized how important traveling was to everyone. Moving to survive (whether for work or education or entertainment) is one thing but surviving inside the moving vehicle an entirely different story. To start with, the streets are tending to “emptiness” and the vehicles are tending to “explosion”.
Microbus heading to Bhaktapur, at Jadibuti, the 4-5 people who can be seen standing were all hanging on the vehicle
Yesterday I got on a micro-bus to go to Bhatbhateni. I was standing. My body was facing one direction, while my body in the other. As my bag kept slipping off my shoulders I silently prayed that the girl on the “seat” would hold it for me. She did not. I asked myself “Where is the minimum level of humanity in the Month of Love?” I kneeled down on the floor of the micro and as I arose from “my seat” the man beside said ” I thought there Was A Seat!” I payed the fare and left. Yes, I shouldn’t have got on the vehicle, you can argue. But there is no Choice these days as the next vehicle may never come.