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Making chaku (molasses) is my family business. Even my great-grandfather was in it. I grew up working in family business with my father and grandfather during my childhood and teenage years. I don’t remember the exact date but when my grandfather died around 1965, we stopped the business and moved to Kalimati. Our family started some other business.

But in 2004, I began to have second thoughts. Why don’t I continue my family’s legacy of chaku-making in Tokha, I questioned myself? I then convinced myself to restart the business under a new name. Now I make chaku throughout the year. Everyone knows my com­pany as ‘Bhai Lal Chaku’ and my chaku is famous as far afield as Banepa.

Annually, we purchase around five tons of brown sugar, the raw material. The brown sugar costs us around Rs 70 a kilo while we sell our chaku to whole­salers at Rs 140 a kilo. The Nepali month of Magh ( Jan­uary-February) is important for us. Each season, we make around Rs 100,000 in net profit. Chaku produc­tion for Magh starts three months earlier. Right now, I have 14 people working in my factory. 

Bhai Lal Shrestha (67), owner of Tokha Bhai Lal Chaku Utpadan Kendra

What movie made you laugh the hardest in 2020? 

“Jatrai Jatra”, “Holidate”, and “Enola Holmes”.

What business idea do you think would be super-profitable but you would never want to pursue?

I would never be a land-broker.

Would you rather be a tiger or a hummingbird?

I would rather be a hummingbird for the freedom it enjoys. 

If you could change something about the way you were raised, what would it be?

I wish I would have been taught about body shaming and misconceptions on mensuration. I would have led a more confident and comfortable life. 

A zombie apocalypse is coming. Who are the three people you want on your team?

OMG! I actually felt the zombie-like situation during the pandemic. So the names… Anuprathsa Thapa (Nephew), Prabha Thapa (Sister) and Monica GC (Best Friend).

You have your own late-night talk show. Who do you invite as your first guest?

It would be none other than Hollywood filmmaker Christopher Nolan.

What was the worst job you ever had?

I think I haven't done anything that would fall in this category.

You can have an unlimited supply of one thing for the rest of your life. What would it be?

Certainly an internet connection. I can't do without it. 

Would you rather be the funniest or the smartest person in the room?

I would rather be the smartest person because the smartest person would always know when or where to be funny. 

What is the last TV show that you binge-watched?

“Just Add Magic”.

Started as Rana Prime Minister Juddha Samsher’s private zoo in 1932, Jawal­akhel’s Central Zoo has stood the test of time. The zoo came under government ownership after the 1950 political change and its management was overseen by many government departments before it was handed over to the National Trust for Nature Conservation (NTNC) in December 1995. The trust management celebrated its silver jubilee this week.

The zoo, spread over six hectares, is now home to over 1,000 animals of 110 different species, including rare and endangered animals. The Central Zoo closed down in March as the Covid-19 lockdown kicked in. It was almost nine months before the zoo reopened to public on December 10. With the reopening and introduction of safety measures, zoo management says they regularly get 800+ visitors on weekdays and 2,700+ visitors on weekends. This is a considerable drop from over 5,000 week­end visitors before the pandemic. With the picnic area and boating closed, the zoo has lost other attractions besides the animals.

The pandemic also took a toll on the zoo management as the 75-strong staff was cut to 56 to reduce expenses.

Current ticket prices are Rs 150 per per­son for adults, Rs 90 for students and Rs 50 for children aged 4-12. For those from SAARC countries, prices are Rs 350 for adults and Rs 150 for children. For visitors from other countries, it is Rs 750 for adults and Rs 350 for children. Children below four and disabled people do not have to buy tickets.

Not two hours ago I was sitting outside a local café wracking my brains about what to write for this week’s column (yes, Editor Sir, I do think about it!) when a young girl at the next table turned around. She asked me if I was friends with a mother and daughter who live in Ireland. She recalled the days of us all dancing in the Irish Pub in Lazimpat—which then dates it around 2010. She went on to recall that she knew them when they rented an apartment from her family when she was a child. Having just returned from study overseas, she appeared to be around mid-20s. 

It was not the first time this has happened to me… About 8 or 9 years ago I saw someone on social media whose family name looked familiar (it's a bit unusual). I contact him. Sure enough his family used to come and stay with us on a regular basis when I lived in Bardia National Park! Subsequently he moved into my Kathmandu neighborhood and we became friends. Looking back on the Bardia days I was, at that time, more friends with his parents than his 10-year-old self but his recollection of the warm welcome I gave (gosh, how professional was I) when they arrived at the hotel was seared into his happy childhood memories. Being they were neighbors of a mere two hours drive away (nothing in a rural area) even my mother and aunt met his parents back in the day as I sometimes used to go visit them at their house too. Now with a child of his own we are family!

On another occasion I was having drinks with that same guy and a bunch of Friday Happy Hour folks at the old 1905 on Kantipath when a young woman came up to me and said— “you know my mother”. Her mother, a French woman running a trekking agency here, helped me out tremendously on a particular occasion. Her, then young, daughter was there too and she recalled both the occasion and me. I had lost contact since the time they kind of ‘rescued’ me, some 20 years ago.

Why, even the assistant editor of this newspaper falls into this strange category of folks I knew as children. Having met adult Sunny through his music, when this newspaper started he suggested I might like to write for them. Sometime around then his son was having his rice-feeding party to which I was invited. I’m dancing away to some Nepali song on the dance floor and spy a gentleman doing the same. We wave at each other and exchange greetings. I later say to Sunny that I met the guy who was previously the manager at the Sterling Club based within the British Embassy. Which I used to frequent on a regular basis, again back around 15 years ago. “Oh that’s my father,” says Sunny!

A few months back I was sent a Facebook friend request by a woman married to someone who used to work for me, going back around 20-25 years. I was somewhat surprised to notice that this woman, who looked about 40, is married to my ex-staff member who is oh, maybe 20. Then it dawned on me. Twenty years have passed since he worked for me. He is no longer 20!

There is nothing quite like being told by someone they knew you when they were a child to remind you that you are not 30 anymore but edging towards the other end of the spectrum.  But worst of all—there is nothing quite like being on a date with someone who then turns out to be the son of someone you worked beside 19 years ago. And who most likely you met when he came along to visit daddy at work! Needless to say, there was no second date.