Jestha is the month when summer reaches its peak. In Nepal, this month holds deep symbolic weight for its citizens—especially for two reasons: Jestha 15, the day Nepal was declared a republic (Ganatantra), and Jestha 19 the day the legitimate monarchy officially came to an end due to an unfortunate royal massacre, Marking the beginning of a new era.
I often hear some Nepal intellectuals say, “The monarchy had to end one way or another. It was inevitable.” Curious as ever, I cross-question them: Do you genuinely believe Dipendra killed everyone that night in his madness? Or do you subscribe to one of the many conspiracy theories floating in the city? Each person has their version, their separate narrative. No wonder Yuval Noah Harari said that stories are the foundation of civilisation. This city, “Kathmandu,” cradled by mystic mountains, is a breeding ground for legends, secrets, and conspiracies, especially surrounding the royal palace.
It is far more riveting than Game of Thrones. And yet, what a pity—no filmmaker has ever dared to bring this gripping saga to the silver screen. But fortunately, we have books, yes, many of them—fictional and non-fictional—trying to decode what really happened that night. And for a curious mind like mine, born after the massacre, these books offer a window into a past I did not live through but cannot stop imagining.
So hence that curiosity led me down a rabbit hole of stories—both in Nepali and English—and here, I want to share a short review of some of them that I have read so far without giving away the spoilers.
Raktakunda, Krishna Abiral
This feels like a book tailored more toward what the audience wanted to hear rather than presenting an objective account. I have come across several individuals who believe in this version wholeheartedly, truthfully.
Honestly, once upon a time, I used to be one of them. I once lived by the narratives in this book, but over time, I have grown more sceptical of the version it presents, and I now find it a little difficult to believe in it completely.
But having said that, I must accept that the writing is engaging and well-written. I do recommend reading it, but with a critical mindset. It is worth going through, but do not accept everything at face value. Do keep an open mind.
Love and Death in Kathmandu, Amy Willesee and Mark Whittaker
This book stands out because it dives deep into the psychology of the main figures involved. A perspective missing from other accounts, especially from Nepali authors. Rather than just recounting the events, this book offers a deeper understanding of the royal family’s complex dynamics and the broader cultural and political context. It covers everything from the legend of Gorakhnath and the royal ties to the living goddess Kumari, to the intertwined history of the Shah and Rana dynasties, including how the Ranas rose to power as hereditary prime ministers. The authors also explore the backdrop of the Maoist insurgency, painting a comprehensive picture of a kingdom on the edge.
Despite the heavy and intricate subject matter, the writing is so engaging that once you start, it is difficult to stop. For curious readers—especially younger generations like myself, eager to uncover what truly happened—this book serves as an excellent introduction. Drawing from interviews with members of the royal family and those close to them, the authors weave together firsthand accounts with local gossip, rumours, and political intrigue, creating a vivid portrait of Kathmandu’s royal circle during a time of crisis. And now, as for the central question: did Dipendra kill his own family? How does this one answer that? The answer is both yes and no. The palace environment shapes a mindset very different from ordinary life, and Dipendra’s troubled, volatile personality certainly suggests he was capable of extreme actions. Even this? Maybe, yes, but there is room for doubt on whether he did. The Author here also paints a different picture about the backdrop of the massacre, a brutal clash of egos: a queen unwilling to be defeated, an aristocratic Rana woman desperate to hold her place, and a prince never used to hearing “no,” which leads to the tragedy.
Highly highly recommended to read.
Durbar ko Dukhanta, Sundar Pratap Rana
The author of this book served as the Adjutant General to the late King Birendra. So far, this is the only Nepali book about the massacre that has truly satisfied the reader in me. His close connection to the royal family lends a unique credibility to many of the facts and insights presented in the book. Although one can sense his undeniable loyalty towards the royal family, even as an author, he has worked hard to maintain a balanced and factual stance. The writing style is strong and engaging, drawing readers in from the very first page. What makes this work especially valuable are the detailed accounts of the massacre itself and the immediate aftermath, providing a rare and intimate perspective on those critical days. For anyone looking to understand the event beyond rumours and hearsay, this book is an indispensable resource. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the royal family and the events of how things unfolded post the tragedy.
Massacre at the Palace: The Doomed Royal Dynasty of Nepal, Jonathan Gregson
This book starts right from the beginning of the unification of Nepal till the rise of Gyanendra Shah. The author has done an amazing job on their research part and on bringing out a brief history of the Shah dynasty. This book talks in a detailed manner about the durbar massacre. The author also makes parallel mentions about lord gorakhnath and his legend throughout the book, connecting its dots with the massacre.
“Among all the books I’ve read on the subject, what stood out in this one is how the author portrays Devyani Rana. He presents her as someone who understood Dipendra Shah and offered him the emotional love and comfort he lacked—perhaps even craved—as a prince. That was something new to me. In all my previous readings, she was consistently depicted as a villain, almost like an evil mastermind who manipulated the Crown Prince. While the author doesn’t completely redeem Devyani Rana, compared to previous accounts, she is shown in a relatively less negative light.
A definite must-read to get a hang of the royals and of the royal massacre.
Still seeking truth
It has now been 24 years since the tragic Durbar Massacre, yet rumours and conspiracy theories still swirl endlessly. The truth remains fragmented—each person holds their own version, and what happened seems lost somewhere in the middle. Protocols of the time, like the refusal to conduct post-mortems or the demolition of the palace building where it all took place, might have been mere coincidence or necessity, but they continue to cast a long shadow of suspicion.
As for what I believe? Honestly, I am still unsure. The massacre continues to trigger my curiosity, and I will keep diving deep into every piece of content I can find, just as this city of mystics clings to whichever story offers comfort. Different groups will use this tragedy for their own ends, in their ways. For the royals, steeped in a history of palace intrigues like the Kot Massacre, such violence is sadly not new. But for the rest of us, it is a monumental event—one we struggle to understand and accept. What do we do? What do we believe? Perhaps we will never truly know. But stories—no matter their shape or origin—help us survive. So maybe this is that one story we all need to survive.
