Kathmandu, dawn on Sunday
Under the early sun, a silver disc in a grey sky, candles flicker on the walls of the pagoda temples. People offer morning prayers at shrines. Women from the countryside sit by the roadsides, smoking and selling armfuls of white radishes. Spring is already here; the Himalayas, visible on crisp winter days, have disappeared in a smoggy haze, and the stench of human waste and litter is once more wafting up from the sacred Bagmati river.
Later there’s a big military pageant on the central parade ground, for this is Democracy Day, the anniversary of the ruling Shah dynasty regaining power in 1951 from a rival family, the Ranas. Flowers are dropped from helicopters and a cardboard cut-out of King Tribhuvan, the present monarch’s grandfather, is greeted. Martial arts performers head-butt blocks of ice. King Gyanendra publishes a special message, but makes no public appearance.
The eulogies to democracy and the unchanging rhythms of life belie the turmoil gripping Nepal.
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