I’ve taken to walking as my leading choice of transportation within the Valley (35 mins: Battisputali to Durbar Marg – beat that suckers!) – and that includes work also which means, I’ve been missing out on मध्य उपत्यका यातायात’s rattle and hum these days; wondering if anything had changed in the last 3 weeks, I decided to hop on the bus this morning on my way to work and witnessed what can almost only be described as a ‘Only in Nepal’ event except I well knew these deals occur all the time in China and India also.

Of note: not many elements are that common between the triumvirate states except perhaps the Tibetans, among other very few entities, which does include noodles.

On my ride were a bunch of people who looked like they’d entered Kathmandu earlier in the morning – traveling in a night bus from somewhere in the Terai (stereotyping/profiling here). मध्य उपत्यका यातायात, you should know, makes an incomplete sel-roti by negotiating the insanity of Kathmandu streets all the way from that thankless surrounding of Gongabu Bus Park (The ‘old’ New Bus Park) to that overachieving disorganization of Ratna Park.

In the bus, 3 children tugged to their elders by holding on to whatever was available to be held – inclusive of a wisp of an untrimmed goatee on the man and the ओड्ने (Nepali poncho?) of the woman.

The elders didn’t seem to mind the children’s collective grips one bit amidst all the hustle and the bustle of an early Kathmandu Wednesday morning. They were occupied with gazing at the faces of their fellow travelers who in turn were wearing a swarm of early morning emotions which did nothing but entertain the unversed from out of town, to the utmost degree.

Where were they going? The Khalasi wanted to know.

Ratna Park – came back as an unmistakable answer.

The Khalasi would like to be paid the fare please.

They understood what the Khalasi would like because of his outstretched hands – not because of his fluent city-Nepali. We would soon come to know this fact after they would momentarily fish out a 50 rupee bank note.

Without skipping a beat, the Khalasi told them that 50 wouldn’t cut it. So would they be so kind as to pay the full fare and provide him with NRS 75 more (I think) please?

They spoke either in Bhojpuri, Maithili, or Native Nepali (Tharu bhasa) – not one freezing soul in my proximity knew what they were saying. Busta Rhymes-like word flow didn’t help any parties involved. After 2 minutes of sign language mixed with some Nepali accented Hindi, an agreement was reached and what should otherwise have been a simple little transaction, was finally made.

What if – the Terai peeps and the Khalasi were to be taught a second (regional) language besides their mother tongue? After all, we have regional languages by the dokos in this country. How about more people acquire a tongue for at least one of those regional languages?

Perhaps it is too late for our friends from the Terai (but is it ever too late for anything?) but it most definitely is anything but for their kids to learn how to speak in Tamang, or Gurung, or even the dying Sanskrit for that matter. How freakking cool would that be huh? Or or, a kid up in Jomsom were to be taught in her school to communicate in Maithili or Tharu?

You’d assume our kids, as they’re growing up, will speak Nepali, learn English, speak or at least understand Hindi (thank you Bollywood), and converse in their ethnic tongue. One more regional language would not hurt – imagine the imagination our kids would be capable of – the sheer volume of perspectives they will have bouncing around in their heads waiting to jump out to create and impress – also because of the nuances of various languages they will eventually have mastered if begun in the proper manner.

Additionally, deals like these, if implemented, would so dot those ‘i’s and cross that ‘t’ in diversity – would it not?