Kathmandu’s Durbar Square is a sprawling area in the heart of the Nepal capital adorned with palaces, temples, courtyards, royal buildings and government offices. It is the most important historic and tourist destination of Nepal along with Pashupatinath, Swayambhunath and Bhaktapur. A walk through the square transports you to another world. And amongst such relics from Nepal's deep past stands a simple two-storied palace, home to the Kumari or Nepal’s Living Goddess.
The 2015 earthquake brought much of Kathmandu's historic Durbar Square, a World Heritage Site, tumbling to the ground. Nepal's showcase temples and palaces were reduced to ruins. But save for a few cracks, the home of the city's Living Goddess remained intact.
Largely unknown to the outside world, Nepal's centuries-old institution of the child deity, the Kumari Devi, is deeply embedded in the culture of Kathmandu Valley. Young, beautiful and decorous, even a glimpse of her is believed to bring good fortune.
As we walked around absorbing the Square’s overt historicity, our eyes kept flicking to our watches as we were told while inside the modest palace that the Kumari would appear to the outside world for a brief moment at 4 pm sharp. Not having set eyes on a living goddess before the excitement was natural. At four sharp from nowhere the courtyard which looks up to the Kumari (a virgin in Nepali) quarters were filled with all colours of tourists from across the world. A gaggle of Japanese girls waited with bated breath and clasped hands looking skywards towards the little window set amongst the Newari architecture which would open to reveal the Goddess to the faithful.
And Lo Behold! At four sharp the window creaked open and soon a little girl seated herself at one corner of it looking down at the curious mix of onlookers all staring, gaping at the nubile face all painted and wrapped in red. In my moment of excitement, I tried to wave to this little girl looking stoically down at us and thought I saw a little smile escape the corner of her soft lips. After all, I don’t think she sees too many hands waving at her, instead, they are all folded in reverence. The wonder lasted all of five minutes after which the little brown window shut on our eager faces.
A hush had descended on the tiny stone courtyard, an expectant lull in which every footfall, every cough, the beating of a pigeon’s wings resounded like a thunderclap. Outside, Kathmandu’s diurnal jangling of rickshaw bells and motorbike horns seemed part of another world. At a nod from their guide, a group of Japanese tourists puts away their cameras.
Without warning, a child had appeared at the window. No more than 12 years old, she gazed sternly down on the assembled foreigners, pouting slightly, looking mildly inconvenienced. Her eyes were exaggerated with thick lines of kohl reaching all the way to her temples. She had bright-red lips and her hair was bound up tightly in a topknot. Dressed entirely in red, she had gold ornaments around her neck and bangles on her wrists. Her tiny hands, with redpainted fingernails, clasped a wooden rail across the bottom of the window, as if she were a captain at a ship’s helm.
Just as suddenly she was gone, leaving a flutter of red curtains.
This little peek happens once a day at best and if you are a born Hindu you could get a proper darshan in the morning and of course some blessings too.
The Kumari of Kathmandu is the best known of several girls who are worshipped across Nepal and is revered by many though she lives an isolated and secretive existence inside the house and is rarely seen.
I’d just caught a glimpse — or had darshan, as the Nepalese say — of the living goddess, or Kumari, of Kathmandu. The practice of worshipping Kumaris was once widespread in the Kathmandu Valley. The tradition remains strongest in the valley’s three ancient royal cities— Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur. The Kumaris are chosen at around the age of three or four from the valley’s indigenous, relatively well-educated Newar community, after being put forward by their parents as candidates. Astrologers then select the girl with the most auspicious horoscope, after checking her for physical imperfections like scars or birthmarks. Life for the chosen girl becomes a rarefied existence governed by centuries-old codes of behaviour; her friends and family can visit, but they must show her deference. The Kumari of Kathmandu is regarded as the guardian of the nation, and her reactions are scrutinized for presentiments of earthquakes and civil unrest. Every year, Nepal’s president kneels at her feet to receive her blessing. When the goddesses retire at puberty, they become mortal again, joining the swim of everyday life.
The Kumaris remain a tender echo of a time when Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur were resplendent capitals of separate kingdoms just a few miles apart. From the late fifteenth century up until Nepal was unified in the eighteenth century, the so-called Malla kings of those cities would build palaces and splurge on temples and devotional sculptures honoring the region’s blend of Buddhist and Hindu deities. The most vivid reminders of these old kingdoms are the “Durbar Squares” — the open plazas in front of the palaces, which contain temples, devotional columns, dancing platforms, public bathing tanks, water fountains, and other striking architectural features. “As an ensemble,” wrote the English journalist Perceval Landon in the 1920s, “the Durbar Square in Patan probably remains the most picturesque collection of buildings that has ever been set up in so small a space by the piety and the pride of Oriental man.”
Selection criteria for aspiring Kumaris are strict and include a number of specific physical attributes such as an unblemished body, a chest like a lion and thighs like a deer. Even if a girl fulfills all the physical requirements, she must then prove her bravery by not crying at the sight of a sacrificed buffalo.
The tradition has drawn criticism from child rights activists who say the Kumaris are denied a childhood and their isolation from society hinders their education and development. In 2008, Nepal's Supreme Court ruled the living goddesses should be educated and they are now taught inside the palace where they live and are allowed to sit their exams there. Many former Kumaris have spoken about the struggles they face reintegrating into society after they are dethroned
A three-year-old girl was anointed the new ‘living goddess’ of Kathmandu by Hindu priests in September this year and taken to a palace where she will remain until she reaches puberty. The new Kumari - or living goddess - Trishna Shakya was taken from her home in the Nepali capital to the ancient Durbar Square for a short initiation ceremony before being moved into the temple-palace where she will live under the care of specially-appointed guardians
The ceremony took place on the eighth day of the two-week-long Dasain festival, the main religious festival in Nepal. Shakya left behind a twin brother, Krishna, who cried as his sister was taken from the family home.
As the Kumari, Shakya is considered the embodiment of the Hindu goddess Taleju and will only be allowed to leave the temple 13 times a year on special feast days.
At midnight, Hindu priests will perform an animal sacrifice, which the new Kumari will attend as part of her initiation as a 'living goddess'. Historically, 108 buffalo, goats, chickens, ducks and eggs were slaughtered as part of the ritual - a number considered auspicious in Hinduism - but the number has been scaled back under pressure from animal rights activists.
Meanwhile, the outgoing Kumari, Matine Shakya, 12, left the temple-palace via a side door shortly after the younger girl arrived to take the throne. Matine still wore the red Kumari makeup, which includes a 'third-eye' painted on her forehead, and the ornate robes of the goddess
The 12-year-old was carried on a sedan chair back to her family's home, which she left at three in 2008 when she was anointed as the Kumari.