INSIDE HIMALAYAS | NEPAL | TIBET | BHUTAN
INSIDE HIMALAYAS | NEPAL | TIBET | BHUTAN
Luring the Rains:
Patan’s Rato Machchhindranath Festival
by Elen Turner
As the pre-monsoon rain clouds begin
to gather over Kathmandu and the
heat builds to its sticky, dusty climax,
something special is being built on
Pulchowk Road in Patan. It starts
as nothing more than an A-frame
of branches atop a high wheeled
platform—something like a tall, skinny
Christmas tree. The thick traffic thunders
past, but a roped-off section protects
worshippers. Over a couple of weeks in
May, the Rato Machchhindranath chariot
takes shape—its multi-story, listing body
streaming with colourful ribbons and
decorative plaques, and four enormous
orange wheels at its base.
Throughout May, the rain clouds break
into rumbles of thunder every couple
of days, in response to the appropriate
worship of Lord Machchhindranath.
At least, that’s what Patan’s Newar
community believe. There are festivals
in Nepal to welcome every season
and natural phenomenon, and the
Rato Machchhindranath festival is one.
Faithful or not, one has to admit that the
timing of this festival is immaculate. On
the day that Pulchowk’s traffic is halted
and thousands upon thousands of
local residents fill every inch of space
on the road, fat, grey raindrops start to
fall from the sky. The thunder storms
that were only threatened earlier in the
month become real.
Newars regard Rato Machchhindranath
(‘rato’ means red in Nepali) as the god
of rain and good harvest, and he is
especially revered by farmers. The
Rato Machchhindranath festival is one
of the biggest festivals in Nepal, and is
the longest. The story goes that the idol
was brought from Assam, in northeast
India, to end a twelve-year drought in
the Kathmandu Valley. Now, every year
sometime in April or May, the chariot
is constructed to house the statue
of the god (who usually lives in the
town of Bungamati, seven kilometres
away). The streets of Patan become
festive; women come out wearing their
brightest saris; peddlers sell balloons,
colourful windmills for children and
flowers and fruit to offer the god.
Four days after the god is placed
inside the chariot, it is pulled through
the streets of Patan. It is very big and
heavy, so takes o ver a hundred people
to pull it by rope. It doesn’t venture very
far each day, less than a kilometre. It
does a circuit over the next couple of
weeks around the streets of Patan, past
the Kumari Chhen (the home of the
living goddess), to the Durbar Square,
the Sundhara, past the Mahabuddha
Temple, up to the Lagankhel bus
park, and finally stops in front of the
zoo, in Jawalakhel. At Jawalakhel it is
dismantled, and the god is taken back
to his house in Bungamati. At least, he
used to be. Now he’s kept in a makeshift
construction, as the little town of
Bungamati was all but destroyed in the
2015 earthquake.
For part of the chariot’s journey, the
young Kumari of Patan sits inside. Once
the chariot makes it to the bus park at
Lagankhel, it stops there for a few days.
Early one morning, it is local women’s
turn to pull the chariot. On all other
days, it’s pulled by men. Young and old
women turn up very early in the morning
in their best clothing to pull it across the
road. It’s a short journey, and only takes
about 20 minutes. It is quite a media
circus, the day women get to pull the
chariot. Anyone who has seen Nepali
women of the countryside knows that
they are as tough as any men. It seems
rather patronising to me that women are
fawned over and congratulated on this
day, as if they have only been imbued
with the super-human power to pull the
A god image decorates the outside of the chariot. Photo: Elen Turner.
“Throughout May, the rain clouds break into rumbles of thunder every couple
of days, in response to the appropriate worship of Lord Machchhindranath. At
least, that’s what Patan’s Newar community believe”
The enormous chariot is pulled through the streets of Patan. Photo: Sudeep Singh.
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www.insidehimalayas.com | By Royal Mountain Travel
www.insidehimalayas.com | By Royal Mountain Travel
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