KT Edit: Country roads, take me home … to where I belong – News
I have a half-ready plan to go to a pastoral corner in Nepal, facing the mighty Himalayas: all I need is moral courage
Disengagement is gaining ground among city dwellers like me. The data suggests that many of us suffer from increasing boredom due to plastic city life, where uncertainties have increased due to the raging viral epidemic.
The rat race is no longer the name of the game, as contagion continues to wreak havoc for the second year in a row.
A sense of ageless recklessness seems to be the main trigger for our penchant for reverse migration, as most of us seek to move away from urban spaces.
The pastoral landscape – whether it’s sun and sand by the sea or a woodland environment in the hills – is emerging as a sought-after destination for jaded city dwellers.
I too belong to this category. The big city and the bright lights no longer attract me. My outlook on life has changed dramatically over the past two years, with layoff becoming the new normal due to the economic convulsions induced by the pandemic. High professional ambitions and skillful career paths are clearly a thing of the past for me.
I find more and more joy in the moral aphorism “sometimes it’s just the little things that make you happy”. However, I was in conflict for a while over where to go – will it be by the sea or the hills?
Both places have their own intrinsic charm, but I’m more inclined to the hills. The Himalayas are a natural fit due to my familiarity from years of training. And Nepal – as dysfunctional as it may have been in popular perception lately – is the place to retire. It’s a mythical Xanadu, where I intend to disconnect from the grind of city life.
I actively considered settling in Lamatar, which is located on the edge of the Kathmandu valley, or in Sarangkot near Pokhara, the lakeside city in western Nepal. I would like to take advantage of the subtle power of uncomfortable silences in this woodland environment and try to equip myself with some life skills that I sorely lack.
Prolonged silences hanging in the air can be awkward for those like me who like to chat, but I also think moments of silence in a bucolic environment – with your partner in tow – can be exhilarating for bonding and socializing. friendliness.
I put together a bucket list in my attempt to jump on the reverse migration train.
I would like to do bucolic activities such as cheese making.
I would like to visit the Langtang Valley, which traces the origin of the beloved yak cheese to the ancient Himalayan kingdom.
I would like to try my hand at the transverse flute and plucked string lute, which are indigenous Nepalese musical instruments that embody the rich cultural tapestry of the sounds of Himalayan music.
If “small is beautiful” and “greed is not good” your mantras, then abandoning cityscapes should come naturally to you. I accepted the drawbacks of a rural environment in an underdeveloped country like Nepal. Civic amenities such as private health services, uninterrupted access to electricity and high-speed internet, shopping malls and gourmet restaurants may be scarce, but the benefit of living a life on one’s own terms can be much more attractive.
I’d like to rephrase the chartbuster of the late American country singer John Denver as I solidify my move plans:
“Almost paradise, Nepal
Himalayan mountains, Trishuli and Bhote Kosi rivers
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
Where I belong … “