At sundown, Makhan, a Newa town north of the Basantapur Durbar Square, is as busy as ever. The tall Suraj Arcade, a commercial complex, is lit up with lights and there are a handful of dwellers walking swiftly with purpose. Outside the building, the junction of Makhan Tole is filled with people trying to get past each other hurriedly, even as the pandemic continues to peak in the Valley.

There is no physical distancing being maintained. The horns of bikes bark as you walk, and you have to force your way to get moving and to give space to the two-wheelers and pick-up vans to pass through. The sunless galli adjacent to the Suraj Arcade, which is flanked with cosmetic stores selling colourful sarees, bangles and other cosmetic products, that leads to Makhan Baha, is packed with scooters and motorbikes.

However, here, the hustle of Makhan’s vibrant market dims a little. “Makhan was always known for its market, but today that market has transformed and the evolving businesses have spread inside the different residential neighbourhoods here,” says Madan Sen Bajracharya at the courtyard of Ratnakirti Mahavihar that many know as Makhan Baha. “I can see this growth threatening our community, but what can we do?” he adds.

Makhan has fundamentally changed in aesthetics since the ’80s: its local market that mainly consisted of kirana shops that sold spices, ration, Nepali shoes, and local commodities have been replaced with supermarkets and commercial clothing and cosmetic retail stores. Many houses in the area now rent out shops, offices, cooperatives to fast food eateries. Today, more than thousands of the locals of the area have voluntarily moved out of the place for economic opportunities and for lack of space.

Makhan originally was a junction for the local market, but it was also a residential neighbourhood with mainly Bajracharya and Sthapit families. According to locals, along with being a prime business location, it was also a significant cultural and even political centre as it connected to Hanuman Dhoka in the South and Ason bazar in the North East. But after the ’80s, the place saw an influx of migration—and with it a lot of trade. Today, a diverse population—including many Marwadi families—is part of the neighbourhood, with many families running businesses here.

“The sense of familiarity with the place has changed. I remember when we were growing up, almost everyone knew everyone here, even the shopkeepers,” says Madan Sen. “But now people only pass each other by, and many who have moved in are not that attached with Makhan, they are just making their life you know.”

Many locals in Makhan point to Suraj Arcade, the commercial complex started by Purshottam Tulishyam for his late father Suraj Mal Tulishyam in the ’80s, to the transformed change in Makhan. Suraj Arcade was the beginning of the change that altered the cultural outlook of Makhan to a fast-paced commercial market of hand-carry commodities, they say.

“Makhan was known for its many Kirana shops. And Tulishyam used to sell a variety of things, mainly gaddi, bed mattress and ration, but later he rebuilt the place and rented out clothing and cosmetic shops, after which the market saw a sudden growth and soon after similar shops and outlets surrounded the area,” said Indra Siddhi Bajracharya, another local of Makhan. Siddhi’s family business of construction materials also shifted from the core area of Kathmandu to outside the neighbourhood after this transition.

“With the change in the market, it was getting difficult to bring in transports to the area, and Tulishyam’s supermarket changed the local market; it was more affluent you could say,” he said. “But this change in the market, I think, is part of the natural progression of time.”

By the late ’80s, Suraj Arcade had become a prime shopping location—after the nearby Bishal Bazar—for tourists entering Kathmandu, especially for the Indian travellers here in business. “Before all that, I remember after sundown, people used to get scared to walk down Masala galli, that we now call Makhan galli. But the place sort of got a revamp after the development of Suraj Arcade,” said Suman Sthapit, a member of Ward 24. “I also heard that Suraj Arcade was also quite famous in India at the time,” said Sthapit.

Many who knew Purshottam Tulishyam still remember him and the change he brought to the local market of Makhan. But the many shops he rented inside the Suraj Arcade have now been sold. “His sons look after the place I think, but the shops now all have been given away to the tenants, only the building is theirs,” said Madan Sen.

And in these years, the change Tulishyam brought to the market has progressed and increased rapidly. Makhan has become a nexus of the wholesale market, and the shops have spread even inside the inner parts of the neighbourhood changing the very fabric of the community, resulting in many locals moving out of the area.

One primary reason for this relocation of people is because Makhan has now become only a profitable ‘market area’, say locals.

But it is not just Tulishyam who changed Makhan Tole. The local Newa themselves have played a key role in altering the place’s distinctiveness. “Now renting houses here has become a movement, a trend that is unstoppable—only a few houses have not rented their space. But every other month, there are always people looking for rents here,” says Madan Sen.

And this change in the neighbourhood has also altered the Newa settlement bringing in several urban challenges.

According to Ward-24 Chairperson Bal Krishna Shrestha, only about 25 percent of the local families remain in the area, and for more than a decade they have been having a hard time controlling the neighbourhood changes, the market, and the waste it now produces. “Makhan is one of the busiest markets, next after Ason, but we haven’t been able to manage the place properly in terms of the excess the market creates,” said Shrestha.

Over the years, houses have grown tall, taller than the designated height in the heritage area. But Makhan’s increasing popularity for commercial businesses show no concern for the directive.

“Here if you construct your house, you have to first take permission from the Department of Archeology and only then you can build and construct houses, but yes, it doesn’t look like we have been following the rules,” he said.

In addition to being an eyesore, the haphazardly built tall buildings have also made living in Makhan unpleasant, especially in the winter, say the locals. The tall concrete building overshadows any warmth. “This is another reason, people are leaving; here inside there isn’t much sunlight,” says Madan Sen. “The space is getting smaller for families with the market growing.”

Apart from the market, Makhan has also historically been a significant cultural hub with communal engagement. The place is also known for Makhan Pashupati. And for many Newas, Makhan is still the place they go to worship their tutelary deity during Dewali puja.

The intersection of Makhan is also from where the three chariots of the living Gods, Ganesh, Kumari and Bhairav, pass through to circle around the core of Kathmandu. It is also the pathway the Majipa Lakhe, Pulukisi and Dangi take during Indra Jatra, the route for the Janbaha Dyo rath. And so it’s intersection has always been vibrant. “And for that reason as well, the market here has always thrived,” said Indra Siddhi Bajracharya.

However, now even this cultural and communal exchange is slowly wilting. Former locals of the area still visit the place, and engage in the communal and spiritual activities their families have practiced, but they can see that the market is slowly taking over.

“In about 20 years, if this trend is to go on, there will be no locals left in the area. The place will only be commercially viable and with it, maybe our history and our culture will slowly disappear,” says Madan Sen.

But Sagar Bajracharya who grew up in Makhan disagrees with Madan Sen’s observation. Sitting beside him at Makhan Baha, he asserts, “I think we have to be hopeful. Today, a lot of youth are aware of their culture, and they genuinely want to continue our traditions and values.”

“I am sure they will come around to protect the cultural nuances of this place as well. And so many works are already happening, we have a committee that looks after the deities and monuments here,” he added.

But Madan Sen’s looming concern is quite evident as the neighbourhood’s locals, mostly including the elderly population, chant a Buddhist Stotra as part of the Saki Mana Punhi, a day to celebrate the full moon of the Nepali month Kartik, and the onset of winter with Saki, taro root at Makhan Baha. “There’s certainly a huge age gap in the participation that we see in the communal and religious rituals,” he said, signalling the lack of young people participating in the ritual.

But for the most part, it looks like Makhan has happily gentrified—many locals see the change of Makhan as a progression of time, something natural for a neighbourhood attached to trade routes like Ason Bazar.

“It’s a place that everyone recognises. It’s become popular, and in these years, I have been proud to tell people that I am from Makhan,” said the seventy-two-year-old Indra Siddhi from Makhan bahi. But the vast, quick change makes him a little anxious too.

“It’s just that the market has changed and expanded tremendously with time and it’s getting difficult to see Makhan as home,” he said.