The Vanishing Goddess

In addition to the Royal Kumari, the Kathmandu Valley has several local Kumaris, each with their own unique regional identity. These include former Royal Kumaris from Bhaktapur and Patan, where dynasties existed during the Malla era. Their lineage is strongly preserved, but some local Kumaris have held vacant positions for many years without succession. For example, Mubahal Kumari, whose name suggests a very important position (Mu (principal/original) + Bahal (of the sacred temple courtyard), became vacant in 1972. Kwabaha Kumari’s position is thought to have been vacant around 1999, and Kilagal Kumari’s around 2021.

Unlike the Royal Kumaris, which are run by large organizations that receive state support, small local Kumaris are run on donations. This has led to changes in religious views among young people in these local organizations, weakening of their operational base and depletion of funds. The difficulty of selecting Kumaris based on the caste system also makes it difficult to find candidates. Furthermore, parents often refuse to accept their children becoming Kumaris, as it involves sacrificing their daily lives. What was once an honor has changed with the times, and values ​​have shifted, leading to the decline of Kumari culture. In recent years, there has been an increase in young people converting to Christianity and Islam, especially in rural areas.

I was also interested in the current state of the vacant Kumaris, and I used to visit places like the Kwabaha every morning to pray. I was fortunate enough to be able to enter the inner courtyard twice by chance. The door leading to the courtyard is usually locked, preventing entry. The courtyard of Kwabaha was so still that it felt as if time had stopped since the Kumari’s time, and I had the feeling that a tiny Kwabaha Kumari might suddenly pop out from behind the window of the building towering before me. It was a strange moment, as if I had met the Kumari who once existed there, transcending time.

What I’m curious about is what happened to the crowns and chairs of the Kumaris who were once worshipped. It would be extremely regrettable if they disappeared with the end of the Kumari lineage. If they remain somewhere, I would like to see them. In September 2025, with the help of a friend in Nepal, I investigated this and learned that in Mubahal and Bahal, which are related to Kwabaha, ceremonies of worship for the crowns and chairs are still performed. In Mubahal, I was given a book to study and promised to see the Mubahal Kumari’s crown and chair on my next visit. For traditions to continue, funding is necessary, and for that, it becomes necessary to connect with the country and tourism. So how can we maintain Kumari’s position as an object of pure worship? In a changing Nepal, how will the culture of the Kumari, a living goddess unlike any other in the world, be passed down?

In Japan, too, some festivals have been forced to shrink or be abolished due to the breakdown of local communities.
How can we preserve our identity? What is truly important?
Times are constantly changing.