We met Sachet on a rooftop at Patan. I had not seen him for six years, although it felt way shorter than that. I was not a particularly big fan of Sachet. He had his way of wooing people but for me his performance of friendliness always felt off-key. Other than that, he had his own style, his own demeanor, his own way of navigating the world that I deeply appreciated. One cannot describe his sensibilities in relation to the world around him in mere words, one has to see his performance unfold in front of them.
The rooftop ambience of Patan is one most people know about (or don’t know about- it depends on how familiar you are with the area). Cheap restaurants, young people, and slowed time. It feel heavily romanticized when one describes it, and it does feel that way in reality at least for the most part, but the empty pockets of young middle-class Kathmandubasi might say otherwise. The matter is not that the rooftop spaces are expensive in and of themselves, or in comparison with other parts of the building they are housed atop of, although that would be fascinating and sad at the same time. It’s just that because time feels so slow at the rooftops that the owners of the space try to sell you extra momo and chiya that you didn’t really crave for or don’t really need. And we fall for the trap. Every. Single. Time.
This particular day, Sachet was trying to woo dai. His effort was not out of desire, rather it was a response to a similar wooing effort by dai himself. Dai had asked him if he wanted an extra bottle of beer in the pretext of “khaaihaalinchha ni“. Sachet being sachet had responded, “Dai, you love me so much. Sometimes I wonder if I should leave my girlfriend for you.”
All six tables in the rooftop roared with laughter.