Mithai Malakar, 56. After marrying from Thecho, Lalitpur, and moving to Kathmandu’s urban area Basantapur near Kasthamandap, she has been engaged in selling flowers for 30 years.

Selling flowers is her family’s ancestral occupation. But that occupation is currently in crisis. A few months ago, Kathmandu Metropolitan City’s mobile police entered the Kasthamandap area.

At that time Mithai and her son were both busy selling flowers. But without prior notice, the police overturned the mother’s flower bundle. They beat her.

The flowers she had collected by going around various parts of Kathmandu all day were trampled underfoot. Her son, standing right beside his mother, could not do anything even if he wanted to.

A license to sell flowers was demanded from Mithai, who has been trading flowers in the Kasthamandap area for generations.

She was humiliated like a footpath vendor.Saddened by this incident, Mithai’s son vowed that same day — he would rather beg for food than carry a flower basket again.

Now Mithai is worried. Who will carry forward this profession that the family has preserved through generations after her?

After reading the above incident, it is natural for readers to feel curious. Some may even call it absurd — who sells flowers on the footpath?

And that too in the middle of the city. But this is the story of the Malis — those who have been selling flowers in Kathmandu’s urban area Basantapur since the Lichchhavi period.

In the Kumari Jatra also, the festival begins only after the Mali community offers flowers. Before placing the Kumari on the chariot, camara flower (pankha swa), sachika swa, and dhupi flower (sijapa swa) must be obligatorily offered.

Today’s Gen Z may find it surprising: leaving aside Rana–Shah times, haven’t Nepalis who change occupations day by day continued the same profession since before the Malla and Lichchhavi periods?

They are now being forced and struggling to preserve it. According to the old creed system, those who do flower work are called Malis.

No worship can be complete without flowers and plants. From this perspective, the presence of Malis is considered essential in all festivals associated with the Newar community.

If Malakars are absent from Indra Jatra, Machhindranath Jatra, Kumari Jatra — in fact any festival the Newars celebrate in Kathmandu — that worship itself becomes incomplete.

Kathmandu Metropolitan City seems eager to promote the city’s festivals on foreign forums in the style of Amitabh Bachchan’s famous Deewar dialogue, “Tere paas kya hai? Mere paas maa hai.” (What do you have? I have my mother with me.)

They do not tire of talking about festivals held in Kathmandu. On every platform they extol Indra Jatra and Kumari Jatra. The key people associated with those festivals are now on the verge of displacement. But the metroplis, on the contrary, appears to be running a campaign to chase them away.

“We who have preserved the Mali tradition are only 15–20 families. Of those, perhaps only five to seven families remain professionally involved in the flower business to save the culture,” says Suraj Malakar, who is campaigning to preserve the Mali tradition.

Malis are spread worldwide numbering roughly 15,000. Among them, in Kathmandu only five families — eleven people in total — are engaged in the flower trade.

In the Malla period arrangements were made to allocate places for them to sell flowers at many sites such as Kasthamandap, Akash Bhairav, Annapurna Temple, the steps near Pashupatinath’s eastern gate, Bachchhala and Naxal Bhagwati.

Even the Shah kings did not remove the Malis who sold flowers around temples when they came to view Kasthamandap. But now, not understanding the historical aspect of this vanishing occupation, the municipality is acting forcefully.

“We have become footpath dwellers in our own neighborhood. We want the metropolis to understand the historic continuity that has been here since the Malla period,” says 66-year-old Radha Malakar, who has sold flowers in the Kasthamandap area for four decades.

Her daughter now helps her. She says her father-in-law told her many things about flowers as he passed on the importance of the traditional occupation to her.

“I used to go with my mother-in-law as far as Ichangu to find flowers,” she says. Like Radha, Saraswati Malakar, 57, who has been selling flowers in the Kasthamandap area for 38 years, says that while she was learning the work her in-laws would exchange rice for flowers.

“At that time we were told not to sell for money. They kept rice in the bin; we gave flowers,” says 57-year-old Saraswati. The Malis’ mythic story is quite interesting.

According to the tale, Parvati performed penance in this area to obtain Mahadev (Shiva) as her husband. She had twelve Jyotirlingas established on the twelve hills surrounding Kathmandu.

Because flowers were required for worship at those Jyotirlingas, twelve brothers of the Mali community were chosen.
At that time they did not only do flower work but also worshipped Shiva.

During Vanaasur’s time, a great battle between Shri Krishna and Vanaasur took place in this area. The other Malis who came with Krishna also became close to the Malis living in Kathmandu, as if reunited brothers.

Jatras connected to the Malis

Kathmandu’s jatras and the Malis have an interdependent relationship.Mohan Mali, who has carried his family’s heritage for 50 years, says that no Newar festival is complete without their presence.

He narrates the Indra Jatra myth: “This jatra began after the Malis captured Indra in the Kathmandu Valley.” According to the legend, one day Indra entered the Kathmandu Valley (which was previously called Nepal) to pick a parijat flower for his mother’s worship.

That flower was found only in the king’s garden. But the Malis, through worshipping Shiva, had become skilled in tantra.

Seeing that he entered the king’s garden without permission, they used tantric methods to control Indra. They bound him with a raw glass thread of mantras at Bhimsensthan and Maru-cheu.

Even now, during Indra Jatra, there is a custom of worshipping an idol of Indra tied with glass thread on a post at the Maru crossroads and at Bhimsensthan.

As soon as news of Indra’s capture reached heaven his mother immediately came to the Kathmandu Valley to free her son. But there she too was captured.Indra’s absence in heaven disturbed the universe’s “ecosystem.”

All the gods came and pleaded with the king of the Kathmandu Valley to free Indra. Only then did the Malis realize that the two captured persons were Lord Indra and his mother.

At that point the king placed one condition for freeing Indra and his mother — that rain must come when needed for crops and that the ancestors be granted direct residence in heaven.

After agreement on both of these matters, Indra and his mother were released.

A practice that began in the Lichchhavi period

The Malis’ right to sell flowers within the Kathmandu Valley dates from the Lichchhavi period. There is an entertaining story behind this. After defeating the Kirati kings in battle, the Lichchhavis rose around 800 (Vikram Samvat). At that time the Lichchhavis restricted entry into the city for the Ghasthi descendants (the Malis).

Radha Malakar says that those Malis who fell afoul of the Lichchhavi king were later scattered to other parts of the country.

Radha, who has been selling flowers in Kasthamandap with her parents since childhood, says, “In the Kirat era our generations used to be prominent in administration; but after the rise of the Lichchhavis we were sidelined.”

There was also the nag flower in Nagarjun and Raniban that blooms once every twelve years. Our ancestors used to collect valuable flowers and plants from here and sell them to support their families.

Like the Kiratis, the Lichchhavis also administered according to religious traditions. In the course of such governance, one day at a city council a tantric Mali who had been disgraced in Kathmandu challenged the Lichchhavi royal priest.

He accused him of failing to administer according to the essence of religion. In the assembly he said in a challenging voice — “Tomorrow there will be a solar eclipse. But you have not arranged any rituals. How then will you run the country?”

After his threatening tone there was an uproar in the city council. According to the calendar the next day was a full moon.

For that reason the king sent a spy after him.That Mali went at night to the pitha of his clan-ancestors and awakened his ancestors through worship.

“I came to challenge the king; if you keep my honor tomorrow, the clan deity told me ‘Go assuredly, I will handle it,’” he recounts.

Sure enough, when the eclipse occurred the next day even the Lichchhavi royal priest was astonished, he says. When the priests asked how that was possible, they were told that the king’s spy had at night awakened the clan deities Bhairav–Bhairavi from their pitha, and by their power this happened.

“Only after that were we Gathu Malis allowed entry into the state,” says Suraj, who has been studying the Mali lineage.

Because they could lift their ancestral Bhairav–Bhairavi from the pitha group, the Newar community calls this gamṃ thanephu (able to lift from the pitha’s group).

When the Lichchhavis had first expelled the Malis from the Kathmandu Valley, they had confiscated their possessions. When they later returned to the valley, they were permitted to do flower business to make a living.

Suraj says that after that the practice began of collecting flowers from various hills around Kathmandu. “Nagarjun and Raniban were gardens. Moreover, according to the concept of Raniban, Britain’s Queen’s Garden was made.

When that was created, priceless flowers and plant seeds were brought from here. There was a nag flower here that bloomed once every twelve years.

Our ancestors used to collect valuable flowers and plants from here and sell them to sustain the family,” Suraj recounts the history.

In the Kirat period Ghasthi had two branches — Gathu Mali and Vyanjankar. In the Lichchhavi period, after mixing with Ranjitakar (descendants of Jyapu), it became three.

After the Lichchhavis saw the valour of the Mali ancestors, the Pachali Bhairav temple located in the Kasthamandap area was established as Bhairavsthan and made the regional guardian at Teku Dobhan. Initially that was inside the city.

Later it was established as the regional guardian of the southern area of the country and the practice of taking out the Bhairav Jatra on Dashain’s fourth–fifth day began. “Pachali Bhairav is regarded as our ancestor. The practice of attaining khadga siddhi (sword empowerment) from him began.

The 12-year khadga siddhi jatra of Pachali Bhairav was conducted by Amar Malla in the Malla period,” Suraj says. Another complaint of the Malis is that encroachment by flower sellers from outside has led to the disappearance of flowers associated with tantric and Vedic rituals.

The most recent 12-year khadga siddhi jatra of Pachali Bhairav took place in 2023. Even now, before the Pachali Bhairav’s Panchami worship, there is a custom of taking instructions from the Malis.

Among the Malis’ two major khadga siddhi jatras the other is the Bhadrakali khadga siddhi jatra. That jatra will take place in the coming 2027. Khadga siddhi is the process of “power transfer.”

A trade that flourished in the Malla period

In the Lichchhavi period the Malis were permitted to do the flower trade. Mohan Mali of the older generation says that in the Malla period they were even allotted places to trade.

“We were given facilities to sell flowers at almost all religious sites in Kathmandu — Kasthamandap, Akash Bhairav, Annapurna Temple, the eastern gate of Pashupatinath, Naxal Bhagwati,” he says.

At that time the flower trade in the Nepalmandal was organized through guthis. But now they are on the verge of displacement. “Like the Kumari, we too belong to the living heritage.

But we are treated like footpath vendors,” says Radha, who has sold flowers at Kasthamandap for 40 years. During the Malla period Malis were allowed to plant flowers across vacant lands, temples and ponds inside Kathmandu — Rani Pokhari, Kamal Pokhari, the Bhugolpark, Singha Durbar, Kshetrapati and other areas.

But later as land was lost, higher urbanization and the presence of army and police in Nagarjun and Raniban made it hard for Malis to maintain their traditional business.

Additionally, due to the metropolis’ dismissive attitude and encroachment by outside flower traders, the Malis have reached the brink of displacement.

“Our request to the metropolis is this: by strengthening the guthi the tradition can still be preserved. We have been associated with the same occupation for more than 1,200 years. This itself is a subject for research,” Suraj says.

Another grievance of the Malis is again that because of encroachment by outside flower traders, flowers tied to tantric and Vedic rites are vanishing.“Previously the Brahmakamal we used to sell has become rare.

Khebu swa, Cho ke swa, Rajbeli, Kui Mayti swa, Tis: swa and similar flowers have stopped being found.So many flowers have disappeared before our eyes. Who will preserve them?” Radha asks.

In Kathmandu various monasteries and temples perform worship according to tantric rites. Special kinds of flowers are required for this.

For example, offerings to Lord Ganesha in Kathmandu: Maru Ganesh at Kasthamandap gets Ashok flowers, Kamal Vinayak gets lotus flowers, Suryavinayak gets ghanti flowers, and Indravinayak gets Indrakamal.

But Suraj claims cultural encroachment has increased recently.“Actually energy science is tantra. But we have forgotten this,” he says.

Again: in the Kumari Jatra the Mali community’s flower offerings mark the start of the festival. Before placing the Kumari on the chariot camara flower (pankha swa), sachika swa and dhupi flower (sijpa swa) must be offered.

This ritual had been suspended for a long time; but through the Malis’ own initiative it has been revived in the last two years.

A profession tied to such deep history is now on the verge of displacement. Yet the various organizations and people entrusted with preserving Newar culture remain silent.

This causes, on the one hand, the extinction of the Malis’ ancestral profession, and on the other hand, the end of a tradition older than 1,200 years.