#NepalQuake: Fear Is The New Epidemic, Spreading Faster Than Any Known Disease!

There is something eerie when Thamel, the noisy nerve centre in the heart of Kathmandu, is deserted at 7 pm on a weekday. It's like walking across an empty Park Street in Kolkata or a traffic-less Connaught Place in New Delhi or a deserted Church Gate station in Mumbai.

Kathmandu has been spooked out of its skin. The hotels are shut, the houses empty, there are no taxis plying, and last week's thoroughfares look like abandoned pathways in the countryside. Anyone in quake-hit Nepal can almost touch fear with his fingers.

At the Courtyard Hotel in Thamel, owner Pujan Thapa has asked all guests to sleep in the porch. Almost everyone complies. "I go into the rooms as infrequently as possible," Pujan said, adding, "I take a quick shower in the morning, keep the door open, and rush out. I tell my guests to do the same." The guests roll over in chairs and mattresses in the cold, without electricity, and irregular water supply.

Outside the Tribhuvan International airport, Kundan Lama, a taxi driver, said someone paid him Rs 3,000 for a night in his car. Many others would do that if they could afford it.

Compounding the fear is the lack of hope that things will improve. It's understandable; the government failed to take emergency measures after the quake hit, leaving people to dig out their trapped loved ones with their bare hands.

"Nepal wasn't prepared for such calamity," said Suraj Giri, a TV professional who runs a popular show 'Namaste'.

He adds, "No one knew or knows what to do. The last big earthquake was 80 years ago and there have been no lessons learnt. There's also a crisis of leadership. We lack an Obama, Xi, or a Merkel-like figure."

Nepal is in grief, but the cloak it wears is woven in fabric of anxiety. Dhiren Gauchan, who runs a small shop in Lajimpat that's shut since Saturday, said, "Who wants to die for a few more rupees? These are dangerous days for Nepal."

As darkness falls across the valley, Bhupen Chhetri tucks a pillow under his arms and walks towards a tent in Tudikhel. Behind him in silent procession are his mother, wife and two daughters. A huge chunk of Kathmandu's three million people would be doing exactly the same.

(Originally Published In Times Of India)