Bistaari Janus




The bus ground to a halt. We were only 90 minutes into our usual 8 hour ride and the heavy traffic appeared to be stalling us.

“Holiday traffic?” my friend asked. We were traveling two days before Nepal’s most important family festival, Dashai.

“No,” I replied,” holiday traffic slows things down but usually not to a halt. This traffic is probably due to an accident.”

Moments later an ambulance went whizzing by.

After two hours of stop and go traffic, we finally saw the cause.




Two buses were pulled off to the side of the road. The first had a long metalic scrape down the right side, all windows missing, seats exposed and partially dislodged.

The second – was completely smashed in on the left front corner, the drivers corner, and partially crushed for another 5 meters of its length. There was no glass on either side. Seats were smashed. Something wet glistened

I later learned that 6 people had died.

For what? For a rush of the holiday. For the mad-dash to be home. Of the impatience of one hasty driver.

A positive unintended consequence of the rapid collision: safely stalling the rest of the vehicles so that they could not do the same. A moments sober reflection of the perils of the road.

And then –




Once passed the bottle-neck, our driver resumed a quick pace. He had to make up for lost time, after all.


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