standing outside with a face that certainly conveys weepiness.
A young girl then enters the room. She hands over ten rupees and the shaman hands over some small plastic bags with dried leaves inside. What are they for? “They are ‘karne paat’ (a variety of leaf)”, he says, and adds “I get them from the jungle. One can only collect them at midnight.” What are they for? “They are to make alcoholics break out of their drinking habit,” he replies.
Some more clients enter and sit down patiently on the straw mat after paying their respects to the shaman. He smiles benignly at them. He seems confident and sure of himself. He is dressed in a red T-shirt beneath an open-buttoned maroon color shirt. His hair is unruly and his teeth are big and strong. He looks friendly and open to answering any question. Yes, he is 41 years old with a wife and a small son and daughter. The next question is, of course, how did he become a shaman? His story begins when he was just seven years old….
He used to live in Tokha near Budanilkantha, north of Kathmandu, along with his mother and elder brother. His father had died much earlier. He recalls, “We were very poor. One day I went into the nearby forest to collect mushrooms along with two brothers who were my friends. I remember it was around 4 pm. After a while, the two brothers went off in one direction and I was left alone.” He sighted an old man in a white garb lying down on the floor. He was almost like a skeleton. Besides him were a lauro (walking stick) and a doko (bamboo basket). The thought came to his mind, “Who could be so cruel as to leave this old man all alone in the jungle?” The old man looked up at him and asked him in a very strange voice to close his eyes shut. Buddhi Kumar did just