I recently went to a hospital in the erstwhile typical Newari town of Harisiddi. I was shocked to see it transformed into a Bihari village. Don’t get me wrong. I love Bihar, having spent some time in Raxaul as an 8-year-old. But, modern Harisiddi is a replica of modern Raxaul — messy, filthy, chaotic and dusty.

The hospital was no oasis either and had all the elements to boost your blood pressure. The grassroots people at the hospital were prone to argue, lacking in discipline and direction. I asked the receptionist if their phones were out of order as I had kept calling for an hour without a response. She replied, “No,” with a hostility that has become a trademark of Nepali character.

Earlier, I had driven my car to the parking lot. The parking guard holed up in an upright ‘coffin’ with a window was chatting.

The morning sun was hot, and I found myself a tree and parked the car under its shadow.

The thug guard strolled towards me and barked: “You cannot park your car here.”

Raising my voice, I said, “Why are you guys chatting until I park?” He tried to win the argument saying I should have seen the notice which I challenged him to show.

He started searching, and after fumbling for some time, he had his ‘Eureka’ moment behind the tree. The board was staring in the opposite direction.

The tiny girls at the COVID help desk were no better. They lacked the basic norms of COVID care. I shared my fear with my better half: “It will not surprise me if this place becomes the COVID incubator.”

I proceeded to a swanky coffee shop on the first floor to cool myself with a cup of coffee. The prices were all in three figures ranging from the equivalent of over a dollar. Unwilling to waste my money, I asked the staff if they have black coffee without the words ‘Expresso, Latte, Americano’.

If I started drinking coffee in shops, it would cost me a fortune.

I buy coffee beans and brew at home.

On one of my visits to my grocer, he asked me: “How do you eat this coffee? Chew them?” I smiled and told him: “No, I boil beans and drink soup.” He is a TU postgraduate.

The coffee vendor at Pako and the hospital guard and the telephone clerk and the little girls at the COVID desk in the specialist hospice are all lacking in the service.

The hospital managers need to know that large buildings and expensive in-house coffee counters do not make a hospital great. Unless COVID stays with us for a long haul, we could see many hospitals going extinct in the coming days, following the footsteps of the current hotels and educational factories.