Yenyaa Punhi girl forever...

 I was watching Shantinin make her way through the Nanichayau crowd yesterday, and the thought that occurred to me was: you can take the girl away from the old city, but you can't take Yenyaa out of the girl. Even though she is no longer her agile self and has to walk slowly now on implant for knees, she isn't afraid to be in the crowd. She raises her arms to take pictures of the world before her, filling the canvas of her phone with images of people and deities and chariots, and when she does that, she's still the girl she used to be.

When I was a little girl, I would follow her, Baa, Mamu and others in the family to Laayku. It's what all residents of Thaaney and Kowney did-- as did the rest of of Kathmandu.

I've often though that I live from Yenyaa to Yenyaa.   

(Yaasin is the pole in the image above)

As of now, I don't even know if it should be Yenyaa or Yeinyaa. Growing up, we called it Yenyaa Punhi. As in, the full moon that celebrates Kathmandu. These days, it is popularly known as Yein-yaa Punhi, Kathmandu's full-moon. 

Seeing it indicated as Indra Jatra on Nepali calendars always surprised me as a kid. I understood as I grew older that there's the Indra element to it and there's the story of how Daagin, the mother, comes to fetch her son back and that's why we have Pulukishi too, the Erawat elephant. But all of these stories come spooled and entangled and I've hardly ever been able to make sense of them. Stories crossing into each others' boundaries, just like regimes did into people's lives, trying to reimagine and reorient them.

What remains of these stories are what got passed down in repeat in oral history. Rest is left to the imagination and to be read between missing lines.

And so, my favorite of all the Yenyaa stories has always been the one about Majipa Lakhey (the Redhair seen in this image). He seems to have become the most popular deity now and I noticed this time, he has a big fan-following. I suppose, social media, etc.. There's beauty in what's fierce. For me, Majipa tugs at my heart's strings just because. I think of how intensely he must have loved to have stayed back here in the Swoniga for the sake of the woman he loved. When in love, I hope I'm always like him, too-- devoted, loyal and fierce.

And every time I go to Laayku during Yenyaa, it's Majipa Lakhey I first run into! 

It always sets the stage for the rest of the festival. 

And.

And.

Not a good image, but here's our Aju (ancestor), Baka Dayaa, also known as Yalambar. If you speak to the keepers of Bakadyaa, they will tell you they're descendants of the Kirant people. Those who stayed back despite the numerous conquests of the Swoniga, mingled with many layers of conquerors and eventually became who are now, the Newah people-- bound together by one language.

The more I think of Indra Jatra/Yenyaa, the more intrigued I am. I wish I could spend years talking about it. I think of it as a festival that is forever been in motion. And so I see the need for this part of Yenyaa to evolve. 

Children must no longer be isolated for the sake of a festival. Yes, changes have happened over the years but they aren't enough. Their seating arrangements need to change, the chariots need an upgrade. And if we must take the children around the city, the crowd needs to be better-behaved and monitored so the procession can be wrapped-up within an hour. And perhaps we don't need the children to do the rounds several days during the week. If the festival could be redesigned for Nanicha, so should it be it for the sake of the children themselves, who step into the roles of Kumari, Bhairav and Ganesh, for the sake of the people of this valley. 

The children have to play the role just so that the Newah people are able to keep their sanity and have something to hold on to from year to year-- it's an important story of hope. And so it seems fair that life be made easier for the children, too, so they too can hope for a better future of the likes of them? If Newah people don't think of making these changes, who will?

 ...

This Yenyaa, I've also made a new friend, who's actually and old friend. So, during my visit to the UK in 2004-05, I was introduced to Ojesh Singh by someone. I no longer remember by who. And we would chat on MSN messenger. I was kind of lost and lonely then. He seemed to know a lot about things and so we would chat. Once, he invited me to London during Mhapuja. But I didn't go, of course. I had my Mhapuja with family, at 27 Fearnheard. 

Ojesh has a book called London Lakhey that just came out. I became a sad person when I read it, because I loved the illustrations and the fact that here's a story about an imagination so close to my heart, and in such beautiful fonts and good illustrations. Sadness can come from appreciation, as well as disappointment. I felt sad because I could not read the Newah text easily. I had to read the English first to get to the Newah. One should never have to read another language as an interpretation of one's mother tongue. And so I'm grateful to Ojesh for the awakening.