On days when I want to sit and just watch the world happen, I like to get a cup of chhiya and find a comfortable spot in Patan Dubar Square or Basantapur. These two places that still hold up old Nepal are like a time capsule. Being within the premise of Nepali mandirs, elaborate woodcarvings and stones that have probably never moved forces my fast paced 21^st century brain to slooooow down, and I enjoy it.

Of these two places though, several visits have proven that I have a much stronger preference for one over the other. As it happens, I seem to frequent Basantapur more often but the crumbling state makes me sad for the old Nepal we’re so eager to erase. In Basantapur, the essences of Nepal seems to be shrinking rapidly as far edges of Thamel creeps in, as Freak Street expands and my square is limited to a a L-shape that takes me around the museum and across Kumari’s residence.

Perched on one of the high steps of the many Nepali structures (whose purpose I don’t know), I find the movement around me is an odd mix of what Nepal was, what it is and the future of our little country. Without fail, I see old men with chewed up faces moving turtle-like across the square with huge packages strapped to their backs. I see young boys with large images zooming by on their motorbikes not caring about the turtled porters. And even where I sit, I see trash, I see modernity taking over and I see our beautiful Nepali buildings slowly turning into rubble due to neglect.

Though I’m happy to go to Basantapur with friends, and although I use the back roads often on my way to Thamel – I find that if I go there without an agenda and with no purpose, I leave feeling a little saddened.

And so, when I want to relax I’d rather go to Patan. Perhaps it’s because I have greedy eyes and what I see affects how I feel, the upkeep at Patan makes it look more grand, more majestic and in that lies a lot of appeal.  Patan has held her head high and from the museum to Krishna Mandir and my favorite place to eat, Honacha, the entire place infects me with a certain calm.

Going there when I can, I’ve come to appreciate the familiar sights. I like stealing glances at young lovers who sit as close as they can without touching and brush hands ever so gently. I’m transfixed by the slew of devotes who come to for puja and I wonder what it is they must be praying for. And I’m particularly fond of the bench in front of the museum which always seats a row of hajurbuas.

Sometimes, I think I would go to Patan just to see these grandfathers, these sun-aged and time-wise men who spend their day in chatter and cups of tea.  I’ve yet to muster up the courage to sit with them but I’m desperate to catch a glimpse of life through their eyes. But even without exchanging any words yet, just seeing them always gives me something to smile about.

When the sights lose their appeal, I find there are two more reasons I keep going back to Patan. Firstly, it’s a place I never tire of photographing. Every visit offers me something new and I hopelessly try to capture it on my memory card. If not to photograph, secondly, I know I’ll return for all the back roads I have yet to explore.  The roads that wind and mesh and take me to a few dead ends all hold something new. A fallen building leaving a skeleton of its former self, another little square with temples, tiny little shops still carrying old lives unchanged by time. Everything that I can enjoy and savor on my own, or with good company.

Patan seems to age with such grace that I’m sure I’ll always find a reason to come back.

Saani has no real goals and aspirations but she sees opportunity in everything and goes with the flow. This is probably because she loves exploring and discovering. She writes for fun but for the same reason she also cooks, reads, and spends a lot of time on random websites that offer a chance to learn all sorts of tid-bits on life!