Kathmandu: Imagine a bustling Kathmandu café, where the steam from chai cups swirls like the rumors in Singha Durbar. Enter our cast: Prime Minister Sushila Karki, the trailblazing former Chief Justice turned interim leader post the fiery Gen Z uprising of Bhadra 2082—Nepal’s youth-fueled revolution that torched not just buildings but the old guard’s complacency. At the heart of her swanky secretariat? Adarsh Kumar Shrestha, the Chief Personal Secretary (CPS), a man whose name evokes ideals but whose family tree seems to have sprouted roots in every key post.

Act 1: The Youthful Idealists – Gen Z’s Unsung Heroes

Fresh from the streets where they marched against corruption, three Gen Z whiz kids—Pradeep Gyanwali (public policy guru with his own research firm), Arun Katuwal (diplomatic scribe from Diplomat Nepal), and Aakriti Ghimire (activist extraordinaire from the “How to Nation-Build” campaign)—trade their protest placards for policy pads. Invited with fanfare by PM Karki herself, they dive headfirst into the fray:

• Coordinating with ministry mandarins on progress reports.
• Curating weekly multilingual recaps of the PM’s whirlwind schedule, complete with snazzy graphics for social media.
• Untangling voter list snags by syncing databases with the National ID system—ensuring Nepal’s electoral rolls don’t drag like a monsoon-flooded road.
• Championing Gen Z causes: from council setups for youth woes to aid for protest-wounded warriors, all while clocking 12-hour days (7 AM to 8 PM) with a zeal that screams, “We’re here to make the revolution stick!”

These weren’t job-hunters; they paused thriving gigs to fuel Karki’s “citizen government” dream, bridging the bureaucratic chasm with fresh energy. Picture them as the startup squad in a creaky government machine—innovating, not just administrating.

Act 2: The Shadowy Secretariat – Ghosts in the Payroll

But here’s the plot twist, straight out of a Kafkaesque novella: The secretariat’s roster? A bloated beast with 6-8 slots filled by “ghosts.” Two joint secretaries, two officers, five admin aides—listed on paper, but MIA in action. Never spotted at Baluwatar or the PMO. Even the honorary doc, Dr. Man Bahadur KC, had flex hours. The real MVPs? A tight crew: CPS Shrestha, chief advisor Ajaybadra Khanal, PR whiz Govinda Narayan, press coordinator Rambahadur Raval, and snapper Keshav Thapa.

The Gen Z trio, sleuthing through the org chart, spots the farce: “Why pay phantoms when we could plug real talent?” They flag it to Shrestha—crickets. Whispers turn to alarm as Shrestha’s kin (wife in a joint-sec equivalent role, relatives in cushy spots) surface in the news, echoing the nepotism the Gen Z revolt was born to bury. Protests erupt: WhatsApp links fly, streets simmer with chants for Shrestha’s ouster. The youth, once Karki’s darlings, now her “headache”—or so she perceives.

Act 3: The Ironic Ax – Protectors Purged, Questioned Shielded

Cue the climax: Instead of sacking the spotlighted Shrestha (amid family-favoritism furor), Karki shrinks the secretariat like a bad haircut. The Gen Z trio? Booted after just 1 month and 12 days. No heads-up, no farewell briefing—just a cold handover of gadgets to the Chief Secretary. Their pleas for regular PM huddles? Ignored. Their upgrades from “expert” to officer perks? Reportedly nixed by Shrestha’s influence.

In a delicious irony, the very voices Karki courted to embody her post-Gen Z mandate—transparency, youth empowerment—get the boot to “streamline” the office. Shrestha? Untouched, a fortress amid the fallout. The trio laments: “We came to succeed you, not sabotage.” Karki, eyeing the din as “disloyalty,” opts for a leaner (read: loyalist) crew, sidelining the reformers who greased her admin wheels.

Epilogue: Echoes of the Uprising

This isn’t just office drama; it’s a microcosm of the Gen Z fire that birthed Karki’s interim reign—meant to purge cronyism, yet flirting with it. As Mangsir 2082 unfolds, with elections looming by Falgun and damage tallies from the Bhadra blaze still mounting, the youth whisper: Was the revolution outsourced, only to be undercut? Karki’s team insists on continuity, but the café chatter grows: In saving face, has she lost the plot? A satirical sting, perhaps, but one that demands a sequel—reform reloaded.