Rana architecture

If you have read the review of Baber Mahal Revisited in the main issue this week, you might be interested in finding out a bit more about Rana architecture, sometimes referred to as ‘white elephants’. First of all, who were the Ranas? The name ‘Rana’ came about when Bir Narsingh Kun­war was given the name Shree Teen Maharaja Sir Jung Bahadur Kunwar Rana by the then prime minister, his uncle. The uncle whom Jung Baha­dur then assassinated at what turned out to be the bloody Kot Massacre. Yes, there is a bit of controversy sur­rounding the Rana dynasty! In fact many people believe it had a negative impact on the country—its founding being the Kot Massacre in 1846; the reduction of the Shah monarchy to a figurehead, and the making of the position of prime min­ister and other government posts hereditary. But others believe there are benefits—the establishment of Durbar High School and Bir Hospital for example. The Ranas ruled Nepal from 1846 until 1951, so the history is still within living memory of many.

Meantime, during the Rana reign a number of grand residencies were built by high-ranking dignitaries. These palaces stood in the middle of large landscaped grounds, and are still easily recognizable as they are commonly plastered white and built in the Neoclassical or Baroque European architectural style: four wings with French windows, Gre­cian columns and large courtyards. Things from the West were becom­ing synonymous with ‘modern’ and the grandeur of palaces in Europe caught this ruling classes’ eye.

Sadly, out of the 38 or so palaces built during the Rana dynasty, a large number have fallen into dis­repair. After the fall of the Ranas, many palaces were taken over by the government or came into pri­vate ownership. Today some palaces have been restored, or converted for other uses. The rest have been destroyed or lie in ruins.

Rana architects

So who exactly built these palac­es? In fact, the majority of the Rana palaces were built (more correctly, commissioned) by the same people. Here are just a few of them to be getting on with:

Jung Bahadur Rana (1817-1877): The founder of the Rana dynas­ty himself commissioned several palaces, including the Thapathali Durbar, Singha Mahal, and Char­burja Durbar, all found within the (earlier) Thapathali complex. The designer/engineer he employed was Ranasur Bista, who was among the pioneer master masons in introduc­ing European building style with tra­ditional Vastu Shastra (Hindu style of architecture).

Bir Shumsher Jung Bahadur Rana (1852-1901): The 11th prime minister of Nepal, as well as starting a new line of succession prime min­isters, made reforms and infrastruc­ture improvements, such as estab­lishing Bir Hospital and Bir Tower, among other famous institutions. As for the Rana palaces, at the end of the 1800s he commissioned 12, including Narayanhiti Durbar, the home to the Royal Family until the current Narayanhiti Durbar was built by King Mahendra in 1963.

Among others he built, Lal Durbar, which is today the Yak and Yeti Hotel; Pani Pokhari Durbar; Pho­hora Durbar, and Lazimpat Durbar (which was demolished and rebuilt, later becoming the Shankar Hotel). His engineer/ designer was Jogbir Sthapit, a renowned Nepalese archi­tect, master of both Western and traditional Nepali styles. And best known as the designer of (the ear­lier) Narayanhiti Royal Palace, and renovator of Swayambhunath Stupa.

Chandra Shumsher Jung Baha­dur Rana (1863 -1929): He is cred­ited with commissioning seven Rana palaces, including the original Baber Mahal. Other notable palaces are Singha Durbar, home to the seat of the government, and Kaiser Mahal, housing the Garden of Dreams. Kumar Narsingh Rana, the first Nepali to qualify as a civil engineer, and his brother Kishor Narsingh Rana, were the architects/engineers.

Want to know more? I am certainly no expert on Rana architecture, and cannot vouch 100 percent for the accuracy of the information here. However, there are several books on the Rana dynasty, if you wish to know more. Among them is ‘Singha Durbar: The Rise and Fall of the Rana Regime of Nepal’, by Sagar S.J.B Rana, published by Rupa, New Delhi in 2017.

Started from the bottom, now ‘Viral Bhaidiyo’

Sabin Karki always wanted to be the best in the business. “I don’t think I am the best at what I do yet. There is a cameraman somewhere who can take a mil­lion-dollar shot sitting at the spot that I am in. I want to be inside that person’s mind. There is someone who can do it better than me and I want to be that person.” When Karki perfomed in shop­ping malls, he used to see his dance group categorized as a ‘B-boying group’. But he did not want to be categorized and wanted to create his own unique brand. “When I started to dance in 2008, I did not even know that I would be paid for it.” He recalls that in 2011, an organizer from Close-Up Love Fest asked him how much he would charge for a show, and he was sur­prised. “I was dancing because I loved it. To learn I would be paid for it was amazing.”

He joined Cartoonz Crew, a dance group, in 2012, and they did many events together, struggling a lot at the start. “We did not have money to ride the public bus so some of us would walk to our meeting place.” He recalls running around for the entire day in Thamel to find the cheapest place to print matching t-shirts for group mem­bers. Despite these struggles, Karki never doubted himself or felt like giving up on his dream. “I just kept going. Maybe because I had family support, which is essential, especially at the start of your career when you are struggling financially. I assured my mother I was going to get big and this was just a passing phase. Luckily, whatever I thought would happen, has happened, like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Karki believes his work speaks for itself and he is not scared of not being popular or relevant

But there are many who cannot follow their dreams for various rea­sons, or make it big in the industry despite a lot of struggle. “You need creativity, new ideas, and good execution, and you might still fail. So I understand when parents tell their children to focus on subjects that ensure job security. It’s a safety net. If I had to financially support my family from the beginning, I could not have said ‘I won’t give up on dance.’ People can’t just­drop everything to pursue their passion.” Karki says you need to reflect on how good you are and find ways to follow your passion.

The good thing is that technol­ogy has become so advanced that there are now platforms like You­Tube and Instagram where you can showcase your talent. “This is the golden age,” says Karki. “It is the place to build your fan base. As you grow, you do not have to restrict your art. For now, I am thinking of making music videos. Eventually, I will make a film.”

He wants to keep learning and growing. One of his early dreams was to be independent. Now he has learnt every step of video-making, from concept formulation to edit­ing to publishing, and he does not have to rely on anyone. “I still need my brother Sanjay Karki though. He keeps me motivated. He is busy with his engineering classes and I wait for him to come home every day so that we can develop and work on ideas,” he reveals.

Karki believes his work speaks for itself and he is not scared of not being popular or relevant. “But I know that the day I can’t think of a new idea, I am finished. People con­stantly ask when I am publishing a new video. But I do not want to just publish a video. Rather, I would invest my time in creating some­thing that people remember.” He says there are enough people doing the same thing in arts; Nepal needs more hard-working people who are ready to be internationally recog­nized. “When I work with someone, I want perfection.” To the people who are trying their best, he says, “Keep taking little steps and if you are good, your hard work will not be wasted.”

Nepal’s own ‘period subscription box’

Shristi Pahari and Nabina Subedi came up with the idea of a period subscription box, a monthly care package for females, in 2017 as they were studying in India to become chartered accountants. When they returned to Nepal in November 2017 after a five-year stay in Delhi, they became busy with their jobs and could not find any time for this business. So they both quit their jobs in October 2018. Since then, they have been investing their time and energy in their venture ‘The She Thing’, which has already delivered around 120 menstrual kits in Kathmandu. This is the first period box delivery service in Nepal.

 “There is a subscription model for many things in the world such as newspapers. But for something that women have to deal with every month, there isn’t any in Nepal,” Subedi says. Business has been steady; they sold around 20 boxes in the first month. Pahari says, “We are not focusing on making profits for now. We are not even expecting a stable income for the next two years. We first want to build a loyal customer base. We know it will take at least two years for our business to become stable.”

They say that the main challenge for this business in Nepal is the lack of menstrual hygiene awareness and the unavailability of some menstrual hygiene products. “Here, women try to get through their period with Rs 100. People question why they should pay several times for this box (read on). Menstruation means pads in Nepal. But it is more than that. Proper menstrual hygiene products are equally essential,” says Subedi. Pahari adds, “There is a chapter on menstruation in Grade 8 in Nepal, but nowadays many girls start getting their periods from Grade 6 or 7. In our society, menstruation is still a taboo subject. We want to make a girl’s experience of getting her first period to be as comfortable as possible.”

The two women rue the absence in Nepal of even basic menstrual hygiene items—such as a pee-buddy (which allows women to stand and pee), pain relief patches (which relieve pain from period cramps), period panties (which help block leakage), and instant period stain removers. They import most of these items from India, paying high taxes and transportation costs, to include them in their period box.

Because of this, the box might seem expensive to some. A normal box for a normal period flow is priced at Rs 650, a heavy box for a heavy flow at Rs 1,199 and a “red fairy” box for a girl’s first period at Rs 2,500. The items in the boxes are divided into five categories—sanitary napkins, surprise gifts, menstrual hygiene items, snacks and chocolates, and health and beauty. Moreover, the theme for each month is different. “For January, it was ‘New beginning’ and for February, it is ‘Valentine’. Basic items remain the same, but we include surprises every month,” says Pahari.

Asked if they have thought about including tampons or menstrual cups in the box, Pahari says, “We probably won’t include menstrual cups in our box, since the idea of a box is mostly based on providing sanitary pads every month. But we may sell the cups separately.”

 Their target customers are women such as college students and professionals “who don’t have time to pamper themselves during their period days”, according to Pahari. But as many as 30 percent of their customers are men. “Our first customer was a man who bought a box for his wife. We don’t have many regular subscribers now, just around 10, maybe because periods can be irregular, but we do have quite a few repeat customers,” says Subedi. “We keep a note of the expected period date of women and deliver the box a few days ahead. On average, we send a parcel or two every day. And we also do immediate deliveries.”

 Pahari says they faced a problem in categorizing their business while registering their company. “We could not find the category ‘Sanitary napkins’ or anything menstruation- related while applying for a Permanent Account Number (PAN). We were suggested that we register under cosmetics, which we did.”

 They don’t have a store yet. They operate out of a room they’ve recently rented and they get business queries on social-networking sites such as Facebook and Instagram. Their long-term goal is to manufacture in Nepal all menstrual hygiene items in the box.

Some facets of the 10-year challenge

 Facebook has been full of the lat­est challenge. From people, to cityscapes and landscapes. Some poignant—the polar bear, gaunt from lack of food; forests after the loggers have passed through. Some encour­aging—cities that have taken to install­ing vertical gardens; empowerment movements for females finally making strides (in some countries). Some fun­ny—a picture of a mud road in rural Nepal, still a mud road 10 years on. Thinking I might join the challenge I looked through pictures of me 10 years ago. Not sure whether they fall under poignant, encouraging, or fun­ny… so moving quickly on… In the past 10 years there has been a lot of physical changes in Kathmandu that are clear to all of us. The most obvious being the amount of traffic now on the road and the correspond­ing amount of pollution in the air. If someone dropped in from Mars they would believe Kathmanduites’ faces were made up of cloth or paper appliances. Ten years ago only a few foreigners wore masks and even they were most likely those who suffered from allergies.

Buildings are another obvious change. I am surprised at how many tall buildings are suddenly appear­ing, almost overnight, around town. Partly surprised at how things can get down quickly when there is a mind to do so, and partly surprised because have we forgotten April 2015 already? Cafes and restaurants are opening at a rate I cannot keep up with! Last night I had dinner with an old friend in the Radisson Hotel. The number one reason for going there was for the central heating, but I reminisced that the last time I was there for dinner was with her mother many years ago. In the days when there really wasn’t many restaurants around Lazimpat. Now this area is overflowing with places to eat. Some good, some bad, and how do they all get enough cus­tomers to make ends meet? (And that’s another story.)

But some things never seem to change. Public transport for instance. The physical look of the buses might improve but the idea of cramming as many passengers in as possible has not. Nor has the mentality of a few who see this as an opportunity for petty theft or not-so-petty sexual abuse. I remember a time, more than 10 years ago, when people travelling on buses were friendly, and respectful of women (and foreigners!).

And also a more recent (correct me if I am wrong) belief that trees and greenery are a bad thing. This one I really don’t understand. This has not happened within the past 10 years, but definitely within the past two decades. It is natural spaces within this small city will close up as the population grows. But shouldn’t there be a gov­ernment and public will to preserve or create areas of greenery as both a method of fighting pollution and as a place for the general public to relax and enjoy nature? The view from my apartment has changed (See photos). Ten years (9 actually) ago I overlooked small but green fields, alternating rice and vegetables with the changing sea­sons. Post 2015 the landowners seem to have become disheartened. Having decided it is more lucrative to rent the land out as home to temporary construction workers, they have also let the rest of the land grow brown and tired, with every appearance of turning into a rubbish tip.

To end on a more positive note, I have noticed in the past few years, young people (ie under 35) are chang­ing as their world has opened up with internet access. They are taking up the baton for the environment, safer roads, and simple respect of others. So here’s to the next 10 years, when we hope there will be more positive changes as today’s youth become tomorrow’s change makers.