Bread, butter and tourism: The show must go on
Devendra Gautam Marooned in memories Mushroom soup. That is what I order on a rain-drenched evening at a restaurant brimming with an extended family celebrating a child’s birthday. Navigating a flood of memories through a narrow passage, I find a dry corner to hang my raincoat. A vintage rotary telephone set takes me decades back — and further. Adrift on a turbulent stream of consciousness, I find a patch of dry land furnished with chairs and a table. Ahoy, Herman Melvilleji! How ya doin’? The walls around me showcase vignettes from Nepal — snow-covered Himalayas and waters gushing from them; ordinary Nepalis carrying heavy loads across rugged terrain, many resigned to treating man-made and natural disasters as part of their collective destiny; cultural processions like the Lakhe Jatra ; masked deities — and much more. Memories to cling to, memories to stand on amid a flood of memories. While waiting for ...