Last year, under a scorching September sun, Jupiter Ghimire, 30, took a few minutes off from his food delivery work in Qatar's oppressive heat to scroll through Facebook. His feed was full of news of a devastating <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/disasters-in-nepal-come-in-waves">flood and landslides in Nepal</a>. Suddenly, he froze: one news item mentioned that among the worst hit was Gotikhel, his home village in Lalitpur. Panic gripped him as he frantically dialled home, but the phones were down. The news was all bad: floods had ravaged Kavre and Lalitpur, killing 217 people. Ghimire’s heart sank as he saw familiar names and places.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/avoiding-the-quicksand-of-social-media">Social media</a> became both a lifeline and a source of torment, as video updates streamed in about the rising death toll. About 40 people were dead or missing in the Gotikhel area, and Ghimire knew most of those who perished. &nbsp; “There were names of people I grew up with,” he recalls. For three agonising days, he was in the dark about his family, consumed by fear for his loved ones, especially his 11-year-old daughter. Ghimire finally learned that his family had survived. But the flood had swept away their farm, and part of their home. He did not go home for Dasain last year to save money to rebuild the house. He isn't going this year either. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon">the monsoon rains</a> lash Nepal again, nearly a year after the 2024 disaster, Ghimire and other Nepalis here worry about another flood threatening their families, homes, crops, and livestock.&nbsp; Added to that is more recent worry of the Israel-Iran conflict spilling over to Qatar, as it did recently when <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/world-wars">Iran fired missiles </a>at a US military base in Doha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090732_0ac5f98d06311a732200ebc74048f7561a575f7a1626adb5608c002b2fdceb45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250703090732_0ac5f98d06311a732200ebc74048f7561a575f7a1626adb5608c002b2fdceb45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="All shaken up while abroad"> </figure>  Ghimire’s life <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dying-to-work-overseas">working overseas</a> had begun with another disaster: the 2015 earthquake that killed nearly 9,000 people. He left for Malaysia and stayed there for three years to make enough money to start a new life back home. After returning to Nepal, he invested his savings in a small canteen to support his family. But business faltered, and before long Ghimire was forced to leave once again, this time to Qatar where he has worked for the past seven years. “If there were <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">opportunities in Nepal</a>, who would want to leave their families behind and live in the heat and solitude of the desert?” he asks, in between sips of Nepali-style milk tea in a street cafe. Tirtha Gautam, another worker in Qatar, got a call on the morning of 28 September last year that turned his world upside down. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-flood-of-tears-on-the-rosi">The flood on the Rosi Khola</a> had ravaged his family’s home in Kavre, destroying their farm and ready-to-harvest paddy crop. “I couldn’t believe that this time it was happening to me,” Gautam says, recalling earlier misfortunes that had befallen families of other Nepalis in Doha.&nbsp; Gautam clung to fleeting moments of connection with home, often parking his bus near buildings with free wi-fi during breaks to check in on news from Nepal. Tragedies in his homeland have always been a source of sorrow, but this time it was deeply personal. “I was devastated, but also furious,” says Gautam, who is critical of the government’s slow response even one year later <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/disastrous-management-in-nepal">to the disaster</a>. “During these times, I wish I could help or donate, but with my little salary, do I look after my family or help my community?” Gautam was working as a driver in Kathmandu when he left Nepal in 2012, hoping to work a few years and come back with enough savings to buy his own vehicle. Twelve years later, at 34, he is still in Qatar.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/qatari-leader-in-nepal-reminded-of-workers-rights?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR0l_fMqYTlSQbmaZMOELuQic7PgyMEfsIJW_Xb42moieMmhah2TJoz29Gc_aem_AWqS-zjxJskZi_EQXVJQBY3JxQNCN5dgcFs4b6iHihggyCN-UoG5MNz1fmx88IOZEWQwK8Vy_h5cJkmVpm1ejS3F">Qatari leader in Nepal reminded of workers’ rights</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090732_570fff33ac8380c9689e7115d51e4dbe2edb81e8a5e12fca22e1d677fe1b24a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250703090732_570fff33ac8380c9689e7115d51e4dbe2edb81e8a5e12fca22e1d677fe1b24a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="All shaken up while abroad"> </figure>  He is married with two children, but the distance from family weighs heavily in his mind. His second son was born just two days before this interview. Gautam embraced the joy through a video call, but had to cut it short to return to work. “I want to go back to Nepal and be with my family and my new son,” Gautam says. “I am done living here.” Yet for workers like Gautam and Ghimire, that is easier said than done. Each disaster, natural or economic, forces them to extend their time abroad indefinitely. “I am not staying here by choice but compulsion,” adds Gautam, who has<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/digital-diaspora-dasain-for-nepalis"> not gone home for Dasain</a> for the past 12 years that he has been in Qatar. “My parents get very upset every time they hear I can’t come home.” Gautam does visit Nepal every two years, but feels like a stranger. “There is a stigma about working in Khadi,” he says, using the Nepali term for the Gulf. “People who go to the US or<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe"> Europe </a>are held in higher regard.” Despite sending money to Nepal that keeps the country's economy and their own households afloat, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/die-first-get-paid-later?%2F">migrant workers</a> are sometimes met with subtle disdain.&nbsp; This unspoken rejection deepens a sense of alienation, since most workers sacrifice time with family and children to earn enough to support their folks in Nepal.&nbsp; “To truly belong, I’d need to be home, surrounded by my family and culture,” Gautam tells us. “But economic reality keeps me here, away from everything that makes me feel Nepali.” &nbsp; <h2>Diaspora disaster response</h2> For professional migrants in the West with resources and opportunities, the focus tends to be on organised <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-better-be-better-next-time">aid and advocacy</a> in times when Nepal suffers disasters. But for economic migrants in the Gulf or Malaysia, challenges of daily survival limit their ability to help.&nbsp; Yet, there is a collective will to support Nepal in times of need. As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics"> political instability</a> and economic challenges persist, the government must find ways to mobilise this emotional attachment in the diaspora. Disasters, upheavals, and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/poor-cash-rich-nepal"> economic turmoil in Nepal </a>often spark fervent discussions when Nepalis abroad meet up. The conversations highlight both the ways <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-disaster-strikes-home">the diaspora strives to help the homeland</a>, and the helplessness felt by many.&nbsp; In the aftermath of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">the 2015 earthquake</a>, the 2020-21 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/lockdown-5-utlzqtvs">Covid lockdowns</a>, and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/60-dead-64-missing-in-nepal-floods">2024 floods</a>, donation and advocacy campaigns emerged spontaneously in the diaspora.&nbsp; Nepal Rising’s Fill the Bucket campaign after 2024 floods, for example, raised $7,000 through global donations, targeting both international and Nepali migrants. For a donation of just $40, a family of four received essential food, sanitation, and medical supplies in Nepal.&nbsp; The campaign gained significant traction on social media, with hundreds of shares worldwide. &nbsp;&nbsp; “It’s an emotional response,” says Preeti Pandey Adhikary of The Great Nepali Diaspora Network (TGTN). “Whenever a disaster strikes, everyone is incredibly generous with their donations.”&nbsp; She adds: “People back home see us as the lucky ones who don’t have to worry about basic needs. And yet, when we share ideas about how Nepal could be improved, we’re dismissed with, ‘How dare you tell us how to run Nepal?’” TGTN fosters collaboration within the Nepali professional diaspora to bridge this divide. She rejects the term “brain drain,” arguing that geographical distance doesn’t diminish the ability to contribute meaningfully to the home country. “Nepali identity is fluid,” Adhikary says, “whether you live in Europe, the US, or Asia, you can adopt new homes while still retaining your Nepaliness.” This fluid identity has enabled professional migrants to reconnect with Nepal in innovative ways, from volunteering to establishing impactful projects.&nbsp; Connectivity through phone apps is a lifeline. These donations are a reaction to disaster, but do not help with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">preparedness and prevention</a>.&nbsp; Says Adhikary: “There’s a lot of excitement, optimism, and a sense of empowerment. There is growing collaboration and active engagement within the diaspora as well as an evolving sense of national identity and responsibility.”

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Here & Now

All shaken up while abroad

Last April, Nepal became the first South Asian country to provisionally recognise same-sex marriage, and the second only to Taiwan in Asia.
The Supreme Court ruling on Sunil Babu Pant and Others v Nepal Government in 2008 decriminalised same-sex marriage and ordered the government of to make arrangements, including enacting new laws or amending existing laws, to ensure the rights of people with different gender identities and sexual orientations.
The Constitution guarantees fundamental rights to gender and sexual minorities, and Nepal has long been recognised for its relatively progressive LGBTIQA+ laws in Asia.&nbsp;
In 2023, Supreme Court Justice Til Prasad Shrestha issued a temporary order to register same-sex and non-heterosexual marriages, following which a municipality in Lamjung became the first authority to recognise a same-sex union, registering the marriage of Maya Gurung, a transgender woman assigned male at birth and legally recognised as male, and Surendra Pandey, a cisgender man.
The Supreme Court had ordered the creation of an interim registry for non-heterosexual marriages until Parliament could change the law. But there has been little progress to codify marriage equality into law, which activists say hinders progress to protect queer rights in Nepal.
Article 18 of Nepal’s Constitution states ‘..nothing shall be deemed to prevent special provisions by law for the protection, empowerment or development citizens including..gender and sexual minorities’.&nbsp;
However, this is in contradiction with Nepal’s Civil Code, Section 67 of which defines marriage as being between ‘a man and a woman’.
“Even though the Constitution guarantees the right to equality, the Civil Code has gendered terms like ‘man’ and ‘woman’ which automatically exclude same-sex couples,” says Sujan Panta, a legal expert on sexual and gender minorities. “This has caused it to become a major issue for many same-sex couples as they are not legally allowed to get married.”
Mitini Nepal, alongside Forum for Women and Law and Development, filed a writ petition on in December 2022, to nullify Civil Code Section 67 and to legally recognise same-sex marriage. The petition suggested using gender-friendly terms to define marriage, such as using ‘persons’ instead of ‘man’ and ‘woman’ and using ‘spouse’ instead of ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.
Experts and members of the LGBTQIA+ community have noted that legal discourse surrounding marriage equality in Nepal has so far been limited to marriage registration. Indeed, the provisional recognition of same-sex marriage does not grant the full legal rights and marriage benefits to same-sex couples that are afforded to heterosexual couples, which includes inheritance, adoption, and divorce laws.
‘Marriage registration, unlike other civil matters, invites a complex web of legal repercussions. It affects laws on divorce, domestic violence, polygamy, adoption, child adoption, custody, property inheritance and property division amongst spouses,’ <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/right-to-marry-in-nepal?fbclid=IwAR1I5GFyEFpHi8sBikAV3Cj4e1aDTYbZJJahU9Bo8aFdimCxZie-fMpfLvw">wrote lawyer Aastha Dahal</a> in an op-ed in Nepali Times in 2023 after the Supreme Court’s interim order to register same-sex marriages. ‘Barring domestic violence Nepali laws in all these matters only envision a spousal relationship between a heterosexual man and woman.
Sukumaya Magar was with her partner for 30 years before her partner passed away from an illness three years ago. But without legal recognition of their relationship, Magar was unable to claim her partner’s property as inheritance , and her partner’s family ultimately claimed all assets, including their joint bank account.
Shree Maya Gurung also lost her partner Kiran to Covid- 19 in 2021, but could not inherit Kiran’s property because their partnership was not legally recognised.
Magar and Gurung’s stories are documented in Mitini Nepal’s 2025 book, A Life-Changing Hurricane, which is a collection of stories and experiences shared by Nepal’s lesbian, bisexual and queer women.
“As long as the definition of marriage continues to be between a man and a woman, there will continue to be difficulties in regards to family planning and property laws,” says Panta. “All of this leads back to the Civil Code Section 67.”
“How can it be said that same-sex marriage has been fully legalised if same-sex couples don’t even have the same rights as their parents?” adds Sarita KC of Mitini Nepal.
Experts say issues surrounding LGBTQIA+ rights are not taken as seriously in Nepal due to ignorance and lack of education, both among politicians and wider society.
KC notes that the lack of knowledge about queer rights do not seem to come from a place of ill-intent, but because of a one-dimensional view about the LGBTQIA+ community and queer identities in general. But this is not to say that anti-LGBTQIA+ movements and conservatism within Nepal does not exist.
In 2022, Nepal’s government had denied a non-tourist visa to Tobias Volz, a German national who had gotten married to Nepali citizen Adheep Pokharel in 2018 in Germany. The case eventually went to the Supreme Court, which ordered the government to grant Volz a non-tourist visa.
“When my partner and I were going through the visa process as a same-sex couple, we weren’t necessarily met with backlash or malice,” says Adheep Pokharel. “Despite their confusion, they were really willing to help us, at least that is what I felt.”&nbsp;
There have been efforts from sexual and gender minority groups and the government to engage with one another, notably preceding the 2021 census following which the National Statistics Office included an ‘other’ category in the last census to count sexual and gender minorities. The queer community has also conducted various workshops with Nepali lawmakers.
“There is a clear misunderstanding about the terminologies and what LGBTQ really means,” sats KC. “Most people assume that the term only refers to transgender people, which means issues surrounding lesbian, bisexual, and queer women’s issues aren’t often addressed. Even MPs have to be explained about the entire basis of gender and sexual orientation.”

Nepal's laws stuck in binary mode

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

Shristi Karki

Saving the Kusunda language from extinction

Beware of spurious cancer drugs

Before the first light of the day strikes the pinnacle of Mt Machapuchre after a night of rain, John Philip Cross is already up and about on a morning walk around his home with his Japanese Spitz, Luka. Once a British Gurkha officer who led Nepal’s soldiers to battle in many wars, after retirement Cross decided to spend the rest of his life in Pokhara, where many of the fighters he commanded were from. He has outlived most of them.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250623040632_cf25d26dadebb0ae67b9af1fa23a9f97db37254a7523d8fa128909d3db1f42f9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250623040632_cf25d26dadebb0ae67b9af1fa23a9f97db37254a7523d8fa128909d3db1f42f9" data-rendition-name="original" width="417" height="593" loading="lazy" alt="JP Cross NT"> </figure>  As he prepares to celebrate his 100th birthday on 21 June, he is still sprightly and with a strong memory. Cross keeps meticulous count of how long he has been in Nepal, and rattles it off: “80 years, 6 months, and 3 days.” Born in 1925, Cross served in the British Army during World War II with the Brigade of Gurkhas on the Burma front, during the Malaya Emergency, and the Indonesian Konfrontasi in Borneo where he was captured and nearly executed. He retired from the military in 1982, and settled down in Pokhara.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250621030640_83e040a0f0dca92c4c453d20a66fd6cfa374c0399ead7d8a99ed651608b3c92d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250621030640_83e040a0f0dca92c4c453d20a66fd6cfa374c0399ead7d8a99ed651608b3c92d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1777" loading="lazy" alt="Pokkara's Century Man NT"> </figure>  Cross is now a Nepali citizen, but it was not easy and took him “32 years, 6 months, and 2 days”. But that was just a piece of paper. Cross Sa’b was already Nepali in mind, body and soul.&nbsp; The Colonel has travelled across the mountains and Tarai, and has written 21 books about the wars he witnessed, his linguistic research in Nepal and other things Nepali. &nbsp;He speaks at least 13 languages including Nepali, Tamang, Gurung and Magar.&nbsp; What are the secrets to his longevity? Till before the Covid pandemic, Cross used to walk 20km each day. (“Exercise is the best medicine, keep moving.”) The virus brought him down, but he still remains active. The Nepali diet of fresh vegetables, dal and bhat power keeps him strong, and he drinks milk tea in the morning like every good Nepali.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250623040632_eee78d87e03c066c40ed39b72029914bfa02f094b7dabff2209b5b51fb117bc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250623040632_eee78d87e03c066c40ed39b72029914bfa02f094b7dabff2209b5b51fb117bc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="JP Cross NT"> </figure>  <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/okcTuoSi-X4?si=0x146arHUDIO_3tJ" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> These days, he limits outings to essential programs and special occasions, but continues to help &nbsp;young Nepalis preparing for recruitment into the British Army. He remembers the exact number of people he has mentored: “8,119.” His instructions to aspiring soldiers are grounded in three key values: react to the unexpected, stand up and be counted, and develop self-esteem. He passes these on not just as military advice, but as a life philosophy: “Do as you would be done by.” Over the decades, Cross has forged a special bond with Budhiman Dura Tamu ‘Dhamphu’ whom he met in 1977 as a young British Army applicant rejected because he was too short. He regards Budhiman as his own son, and the bond is so deep that a village astrologer once said they shared the same mother 400 years ago in England.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250621030640_1b6630ba5ac0b5ced0d5603844b0c619b61c8c23fa415a0b4004d78723d92c29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250621030640_1b6630ba5ac0b5ced0d5603844b0c619b61c8c23fa415a0b4004d78723d92c29" data-rendition-name="original" width="1777" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Pokkara's Century Man NT"> </figure>  Budhiman and his family care for him at his home in Pokhara’s Dhampu Niwas. Some years ago, Cross had eye surgery and after returning to Nepal, Budhiman wanted to see if his friend would still recognise him.&nbsp; “We met, and were face to face,” Budhiman recalls. “He gave me his hand and said ‘My life is here’.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250621030640_f567e57309127c0b60eca0dc6f43d14e01e9f6ba860d4898748a04a0b086ee87.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250621030640_f567e57309127c0b60eca0dc6f43d14e01e9f6ba860d4898748a04a0b086ee87" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Pokkara's Century Man NT"> <figcaption>J P Cross with Budhiman Dura Tamu.</figcaption> </figure>  The 100th birthday is not merely a celebration of the passage of time or a reminder of the history of nations, it honours a life lived to the fullest.&nbsp; J P Cross has transcended borders and his life celebrates &nbsp;universal brotherhood.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250623040632_e3852d9ec868b3ea4d515b108217ebdd47a55fce76922e8b4b848d2494593ddc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250623040632_e3852d9ec868b3ea4d515b108217ebdd47a55fce76922e8b4b848d2494593ddc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="JP Cross NT"> </figure>  Born under the Union Jack and forged by the fires of great wars, Cross has livied where mountains are so high they pierce the sky.&nbsp; His advice to fellow Nepalis is simply: “Good health and peace at heart, that’s a good life.” Cross is now working on his 22nd book. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250623040632_aa8967df0bb93ac8288b665d34ad78a6545523bab32202600e180cf102559057.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250623040632_aa8967df0bb93ac8288b665d34ad78a6545523bab32202600e180cf102559057" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="JP Cross NT"> </figure>  <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/eul_OMe0lE0?si=ZWNI5a0jgW8-cIa-" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

Pokhara’s Century Man

Nepal’s top maestro mixed the traditional sounds of Nepal with world music at the Culture in Sync concert at the Sydney Opera House on Thursday to bring a message of peace and healing to a troubled world. Hari Maharjan’s musical extravaganza had a rich blend of instruments, including the dhime drum and flute from Nepal, the Mongolian yatga, Iranian tanbur, Australian bass and piano, creating a diverse musical experience. “When music-enthusiasts from different places and paths of life are grooving to the same tune, we’re all speaking the same language,” Maharjan told us. The Hari Maharjan Project jammed with a multinational line-up blending traditional Nepali sounds with modern jazz. The performance offered a borderless cosmopolitan musical experience rooted in Nepal’s heritage as a healing response to wars and planetary climate breakdown. Maharjan grew up in Kathmandu surrounded by the sound of the dhime drum and was influenced by 1970s rock, mixing the sounds of east with west. He picked up the guitar in school and quickly formed a deep connection with the instrument. “Music to me is the play between sound and silence,” he told us. “All instruments have their own essence, but I am connected most with the guitar, not just because it’s glamorous, but because it carries melody, rhythm, and harmony all at once.” Over the years, Maharjan has explored other genres as well, collaborating with bands like Nepathya, Karma, Robin and the New Revolution, Kutumba, composing and performing. While each experience offered unique insights, he always returned to the folk rhythms of his Newari roots.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025062008064_8404d77030f5fe33d0d749fda4e57d7a91ce0b02fbed0746959ec70e4f514f27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025062008064_8404d77030f5fe33d0d749fda4e57d7a91ce0b02fbed0746959ec70e4f514f27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Music without borders NT"></figure>  That homecoming takes shape in his album Swoniga, named after the ancient word for the Kathmandu Valley. The album draws inspiration from teeming streets, ringing of temple bells, and the songs of everyday struggles and shared solidarity. “These are the sounds Kathmandu Valley gifted me, and I am giving back with my album,” he added. Many of these tunes had their live premiere on the iconic stage of the Sydney Opera House on Thursday evening. Maharjan has released other instrumental albums: Kalakarmi in 2008, Sudina in 2012 and Going into Three before the pandemic in 2019. He served as Music Theory Professor at Kathmandu University, and is credited with introducing ‘Gypsy Jazz’ in Nepal, blending jazz and local tunes. Culture in Sync began as a bold idea two years ago when Gajendra Shahi of Sangam Productions approached arranger-guitarist Nirvana Bista with a vision to take Nepali music to the global stage, such as the Sydney Opera House. Once a student of Hari Maharjan, Bista has grown into a respected bandleader in his own right and now carries forward his mentor’s legacy through this ambitious collaboration. To guide the Sydney audience through this cultural journey, bilingual listening cards with introductions were handed out in both Nepali and English. With ambassadors attending, the event highlighted Nepal’s role in global dialogue where music became a language of shared harmony. Maharjan’s next project is to perform his music from the slopes of Mt Everest. But for now, his message to fans is: “Keep celebrating music. When you listen, we get to create. And when you truly hear us, you become one with the music.”

Music without borders

AI is like a tiger, will it eat us up or can we ride it? The Cassandras say that it will make humans obsolete, while the Polyannas say what’s wrong with that if it saves people from mundane work so they can devote time to more creative pursuits. Even if AI solves major problems, might it lead to mass unemployment or exacerbate wealth inequality? Will artificial intelligence help solve the crises that the planet faces, or will it make everything more dangerous? Some of these issues are addressed in the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) annual Human Development Report for 2025. Titled A Matter of Choice: People and Possibilities in the Age of Artificial Intelligence, it reasons that rather than assuming AI will run wild and result in either utopian or dystopian outcomes, AI will reflect the values of those shaping it. Some may view this as overly optimistic or naive, especially given the seemingly exponential rate at which AI is gaining capabilities. Yet, there are no major cases, yet, of AI models going rogue, and they do tend to reflect the biases of their training data. UNDP’s choice of the word ‘choice’ in the title of its 2025 report acknowledges the reality that AI is no longer science fiction or under development, but a tangible presence. It is perhaps the most powerful and disruptive technology humanity has created, with consequences rivaling those of electricity, computers, or the internet. Some utopian online communities, such as ‘e/acc’ (effective acceleration), believe AI will solve humanity’s problems and enhance its future. They advocate for rapid advancements with minimal, if any, regulation.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061606068_1139c7c719c17cf731a6fe99c51afccca36c2500bc3c33f865fef81a4ce33d73.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025061606068_1139c7c719c17cf731a6fe99c51afccca36c2500bc3c33f865fef81a4ce33d73" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1118" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal needs to be more intelligent about AI NT"></figure>  The UNDP report addresses these concerns, emphasising that AI should augment human work rather than replace it, that it will not magically solve poverty or climate change, and that it must be accessible to marginalised groups to prevent further exclusion. It also raises concerns that there is only a small group controlling AI development, treating AI as a vital resource and a fundamental right. While Nepal may lack cutting-edge AI talent and hardware, the country’s potential to maximise hydropower generation could supply the vast energy required to train AI models. Teams in India and China might even consider building data centers here. At the policy level, the Ministry of Communication and Information Technology released an ambitious ‘Draft of National AI Policy 2081’ in February 2025 which covers extensive ground, it remains very much a draft -- a wish list rather than a concrete strategy. The only detailed section outlines the composition of a future regulatory body, mentions building ‘international-standard data centers’ and deploying ‘5G and beyond’, despite limited broadband access across the country, and leaves funding details to ‘regular budgets’ and ‘international donors.’ Nepal’s IT sector could be a key player. Global companies have long outsourced coding to Nepal, where skilled, English-speaking programmers work at competitive rates, even by South Asian standards. As AI improves at generating standardised, reusable ‘boilerplate’ code, junior coders may face job losses. However, the ability to quickly produce code could spark a boom in coding jobs, much like the loom initially displaced weavers but ultimately created more jobs and affordable clothing.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061606068_4e6f7bde438c01a40ca2e9542af0c86c3a9c8879bfc45688a1df0325108c05ef.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025061606068_4e6f7bde438c01a40ca2e9542af0c86c3a9c8879bfc45688a1df0325108c05ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1436" height="1534" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal needs to be more intelligent about AI NT"></figure>  The high demand and compensation for software engineers skilled in building AI tools could also encourage Nepal’s sizable IT workforce to pivot in that direction. The UNDP report notes that AI excels at bridging the gap between unskilled and skilled labour for general tasks. With Nepal’s low illiteracy rate, this could be a significant advantage. AI’s potential as a learning tool could also transform the often-criticized Nepali education system. Nepali companies are also taking strides in AI product development, beyond just providing coding services. FuseMachines, for instance, builds AI tools to extract data from documents and detect financial fraud, achieving such success that it went public on NASDAQ in 2024. WiseYak develops healthcare software that uses AI to analyze customer data for insights and diagnoses. Communities like the Nepal Applied Mathematics and Informatics Institute for Research (NAAMII) drive AI innovation through research, hackathons, conferences, workshops, and lectures. Their projects include AI-Assisted Smartphone Microscopy, AI-assisted VIA Screening for Cervical Cancer, and large language models akin to ChatGPT but in Nepali. Students can engage with AI through academic programs. Numerous institutions now offer AI courses at undergraduate and graduate levels. Madan Bhandari University of Science and Technology (UST) in Chitlang, for example, provides a Master’s of Applied Science in Artificial Intelligence and Data Science. In June it announced two PhD spots in Digital Technology (Artificial Intelligence) and will offer AI studies to undergraduates starting in November. The Master’s program is designed as a ‘Master’s by Research,’ with over half of the 50 credit hours dedicated to a thesis project. Given AI’s rapidly evolving nature, there is no fixed syllabus; professors tailor the curriculum. “The university has a set of available projects, and we evaluate a student’s background and capabilities before assigning one,” says Rajiv Subba, Assistant Professor at the UST’s Digital Technology Program.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061606068_bdf76f4694999bacd1635f57713d58a75229e58a0b478f6b57537b85c2102fb9.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025061606068_bdf76f4694999bacd1635f57713d58a75229e58a0b478f6b57537b85c2102fb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1308" height="1684" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal needs to be more intelligent about AI NT"></figure>  While most current Master’s students have computer engineering backgrounds, this is not a prerequisite. Rupesh Aryal, a Master’s student in AI says: “One person in my cohort has a background in agriculture, while another studied medicine and is working on AI for digital imaging.” His thesis focuses on a Nepali large language model. Other projects include early forest fire detection, AI for drug discovery, and models to predict human-wildlife conflict. “We accept students from any science background, provided they have undergraduate-level statistics and programming experience,” says Subba. “We also encourage entrepreneurial skills and policy involvement, so our Master’s students take elective courses in these areas.” Subba believes funding research is critical for AI progress in Nepal, as a successful model can have widespread applications. “The government could allocate 50 lakhs in seed money for research to each university,” he suggests. “The biggest obstacles are funding, limited high-quality data for training models, and a shortage of faculty. Qualified candidates are scarce and often reluctant to work in Chitlang or Nepal.” Retaining students for Master’s programs is a first step toward building a local talent pool, with hopes that some will pursue PhDs and become faculty. “We still learn from world-class AI educators, even if they can’t be here physically,” says Aryal. A recent visitor was Professor Gerald Penn from the University of Toronto, an expert in natural language processing. “We have all the GPUs we need to train models, and students receive scholarships and stipends.” “Most of my peers are committed to staying in Nepal and contributing,” Aryal adds, “while some plan to pursue PhDs abroad and return.” Nepal’s best strategy for thriving in the AI era lies in developing talent through well-designed programs like the one at Madan Bhandari University. “The government’s AI policies currently prioritise control and regulation over fostering growth,” says Subba.

Vishad Raj Onta

Nepal needs to be more intelligent about AI

That winter day in January 1664 marked an exceptional event in the reign of King Pratap Malla of Kathmandu. It was 15 Paush 784 of the Nepal Sambat and for the first time, a historical event was being immortalised on canvas for generations to come.&nbsp; The occasion was the grand Tuladaan ceremony of the King’s youngest son Chakrabartendra Malla from his wife Anantapriya, an Indian princess from Cooch Behar in present-day Assam.&nbsp; During the ritual, the prince was weighed against gold, silver, pearls, and other precious stones, which were then offered to Goddess Taleju Bhavani, the guardian deity of the Malla dynasty.&nbsp; The 170 x120cm painting captures the time of King Pratap Malla in all its splendour and is more than a personal tribute to his son: it is a significant visual historical document. It was evidently completed five years later in 1669, and could be considered a photographic record, with retrospective recreation of the event by the unknown artist. A Tuladaan ceremony is performed to purify one’s karma, quell impending bad luck, or as an act of charity and devotion. Chakrabartendra Malla was not well, and the ritual was performed in hopes of restoring his health. King Pratap Malla had arranged for each of his sons to take turns ruling Kathmandu so they got administrative experience. But Chakrabartendra died just two days after assuming power in 1670 (790 NS). This painting is considered the earliest known example in which the composition is dominated by an architectural landscape: the Taleju Temple. Given the stylistic features such as side-profile facial depictions and the rendering of human forms, it is believed that the Nepali artist was trained by a Rajput master.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250615040624_ddad3bc27a327e3f9926c8473287e4f14b53081296c295049009f327a4d97051" data-rendition-name="original" width="3248" height="4395" loading="lazy" alt="Tuladaan NT"> </figure>  During that era, there were regular exchanges of artists between Northern India and Kathmandu Valley. The painting is also a melding of Nepali, Tibetan, Mughal, and Rajput art styles of the time. Pratap Malla could have been inspired by a painting of Mughal Emperor Jahangir’s Tuladaan ceremony for his son Khurram in 1607. The Mallas and Mughals shared cordial relations, which is reflected in the cultural influences seen in the art and attire of the period.&nbsp; The clothing of the Malla ruling class, in particular, features colourful tunics, turbans, and jewelry that display strong Rajput and Mughal stylistic elements. The musicians in the upper tier are also dressed in Indian-style clothing, while the ensemble on the lower steps wear local attire, notably without turbans. Their hairstyles also differ, with the lower group wearing their hair tied in a bun at the front. This national treasure is currently in storage at the Collège de France in Paris, and has never been publicly displayed. Nepal’s art scholars like Gautam Vajracharya, Pratap Aditya Pal and Anne Vergati have written about this iconic paubha in the past, but the only detailed study is from the perspective of music history by researcher Richard Widdess who had access to high resolution copies of the original.&nbsp; Widdess from the Department of Music at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London describes the paubha as the most significant and richly detailed documentation of music in Nepali art. He identifies distinct musical ensembles on the terraces of the temple, and remarkably most of them are actively used today. One of them reflects the Mughal naqqārakhāna model — a loud outdoor ensemble typically composed of kettledrums, trumpets, and cymbals, traditionally performed from the gateway of the emperor’s palace to announce his entrances and exits. The depiction of such an ensemble in the tulādāna painting is likely the earliest known representation of a complete naqqārakhāna in Nepal — considered the forerunner of the panche baja, the traditional Nepali ensemble. On the stepped pyramid base of the temple are two groups of musicians playing local instruments: dhimey, bhushya, and dha. They are unmistakably Newar musicians, wearing short skirts and short-sleeved tops, with bare heads and legs—clearly distinguished as local performers.&nbsp; Higher still on the temple pyramid are musicians of apparently higher status, positioned close to the king, and his courtiers, possibly professional court musicians from India, well-versed in rāga and tāla. A dāphā group is also clearly depicted, identifiable by their characteristic instruments.&nbsp; Dāphā bhajan is likely the oldest surviving tradition of Newar devotional singing, and this paubha is the oldest visual record of it. Pratap Malla himself is believed to have composed songs that continue to be performed by dāphā groups throughout Kathmandu till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025061211064_d67636730cdc0ec778c02494817aca0b99654f2950d0fae4b95499a61faf7ef3" data-rendition-name="original" width="596" height="768" loading="lazy" alt="Priceless paubha in Paris NT"> </figure>  The artist’s thorough attention to musical detail may be attributed to King Pratap Malla’s own deep interest in music. His inscriptions on this painting and elsewhere proclaim his mastery of all branches of knowledge, including music. He is also known as the author of dance dramas and poems, penning his name as Kavindra (king of poets). Some noteworthy elements of new art techniques stand out: for example, the roof of the temple is filled with realistically rendered white doves, pigeons, and crows. This is a rare feature in paubha, where animals and birds are stylised, mythological forms. This remarkably talented unknown artist has managed to also render an orthographic projection: the front and side view of Nepal’s first architectural paubha. The Taleju Temple, with its staggering multi-tiered structure and numerous steps and platforms, is masterfully translated into layers within the painting. This represents a significant artistic achievement of the time, especially considering that dimensional perspectives had not started in deity-based paubha.&nbsp; The artist has also made a meticulous effort to capture architectural details such as the toran (ornamental arch) and temple struts with impressive precision. There are flickering lamps along the steps and some people carrying what appear to be oil pots.&nbsp; It is a full moon night and the dark sky is adorned with all the gods and goddesses, who are depicted as blessing the ceremony while seated on stylised thangka clouds. There is a lot happening in this painting, with people engaged in various activities. The artist has also rendered a forest backdrop behind the temple, complete with deer, trees, and flowers. Could there have once been a royal garden behind the Taleju Temple?&nbsp; More details and clarity can only be achieved if we are able to view the original or a high-resolution scanned version of the artwork. Many countries proudly display art depicting historical events in their national museums with great reverence. France, for example, has The Coronation of Emperor Napoleon and Empress Joséphine by Jacques-Louis David (1808–1822), along with numerous paintings of the Napoleonic Wars. Many were commissioned by Napoleon himself for future generations to remember.&nbsp; For Nepal, the equivalent is the Tuladaan paubha which is a visual record capturing a historic moment involving one of Kathmandu’s greatest kings, on the very day the event took place. Sadly, we await the day when this masterpiece is displayed, shared in high resolution for detailed study, or more rightfully — repatriated to its homeland, where it truly belongs. &nbsp; Shaguni Singh Sakya is the Director of the Museum of Nepali Arts (MoNA) at Kathmandu Guest House in Thamel. <h2>Gods homeward bound</h2> The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign and Nepal’s Department of Archaeology are convening the first international conference on the Recovery of Cultural Heritage from 16-18 June in Patan. The conference will address urgent issues of theft, illicit trafficking, the campaign to repatriate looted cultural artifacts, and explore how the return of sacred antiquities contributes to justice, healing, and reconciliation for communities and nations affected by cultural loss. American art crime professor Erin L Thompson and Saubhagya Pradhananga of the Department of Archaeology will deliver the keynote. Meanwhile, author and Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit will lead a conversation on Illicit Trafficking: Public Opinion and Role of Media with Erin Thompson, Amr Al Azm, associate professor of Middle East History and Anthropology at Shawnee State University in Ohio, as well as Bradley J Gordon, a lawyer based in Phnom Penh. There will be sessions looking at repatriation perspectives from Cambodia, India, Vietnam, China and Poland, international frameworks for repatriation, emerging digital technologies in the repatriation of cultural heritage, cultural property agreements, museums as well as trends in the art market, and heritage diplomacy and the role of media.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025061211068_59cfccfa8f5d73bfe8b4c5811a7f53abc09ea04e8cb7c638933d62e5283efdf6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Heritage recovery NT"> </figure>  <h2> </h2> Some of the other highlights include James K. Reap, a professor in the Master of Historic Preservation Program at the University of Georgia who has a session on the US response to illicit trafficking. Art historian Lea Saint-Raymond is taking on “Gods at Auction: The Market for Himalayan Artefacts”, while lecturer of criminology at the University of Glasgow Emiline Smith is delving into transformative approaches to heritage ownership and repatriation. Helena Arose of Antiquities Coalition and Melina Antoniadis of NOSTOS Strategies that specialise on the return home of cultural heritage as well as Hao Liu of International Cultural Heritage Law at the School of Law at Shandong University are some of the others attending. The Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign was set up in 2020 to develop a coordinated movement to reclaim Nepal’s stolen gods and goddesses, with an aim to ensure that recovered items are returned to their original shrines, niches or sanctums. Ahead of the conference opening organisers have arranged for a film screening of Loot &amp; Return: 4 Documentaries at YalaMaya Kendra in Patan Dhoka between 14-15 June. Following the conference is a multimedia exhibition titled Absent Gods: Nepal’s Lost Heritage from 31 July to 4 August at Patan Museum.

Priceless paubha in Paris

Every year in the first month of the Tibetan calendar, devotees observe the ritual of Lo Monlam Chenmo within the holy month of Saga Dawa to mark the birth, enlightenment, and parinirvana of the Buddha. Lo Monlam Chenmo literally translates into the Great Prayer Festival of Mustang and earlier this month was observed for a week during which devotees chanted mantras over a million times for the long life and wellbeing of all sentient beings, for the continuation, survival and spread of Dharma, and for world peace.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The annual prayer vigil drew 578 monks and nuns and hundreds of local people to the monastery town of Jharkot near Muktinath. The festival has been observed for over 600 years, but saw a decline in the second half of the 20th century when Monlam Chenmo was used to pray for the long life of the Dalai Lama. “Lo Monlam Chenmo was revived in Nepal seven years ago with much donation from the locals, many of whom have migrated overseas,” says Kunjon Thakuri of the Norbusum Foundation in Jharkot supporting traditional culture, local education, and the preservation of Mustangi heritage. “The festival will be held in Upper Mustang next year and again in Lower Mustang the year after, as the two regions take turns every other year.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The festival is also celebrated in Tibet, parts of Nepal including Kathmandu, Ladakh and Sikkim in India as well as Bhutan. The Monlam Chenmo festival was first conducted for two weeks at the start of the new year in Tibet in 1409 by Lama Tsongkhapa to commemorate the miracles performed by Shakyamuni Buddha. The final day is the full moon which was on 11 June this week, is also called the Day of Miracles when several festivals and rituals are held.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1607" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  “The grande finale is considered an auspicious day for prayer and practice, and good deeds on this day are multiplied exponentially,” adds Thakuri. “As such, all major Buddhist shrines including Swayambhu and Boudhanath see prayers gather from midnight on the last day. Many attempt a 21 kora clockwise circumambulation of Swayambhu on the very day, a gruelling 30km on foot. Others do a 108 circumambulation of a sacred site during the month of Saga Dawa as a way of purifying one's karma and gaining spiritual merit.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  Throughout the festival, devotees can also choose to perform their own puja including श्राद्ध, a Hindu ritual to honour deceased ancestors. Jharkot’s proximity to Muktinath also means that the festival is observed by Hindus and Buddhists alike. Devotees also abstain from killing and harming living creatures as well as practice vegetarianism for the whole month of Saga Dawa, in line with the Buddhist principle of non-violence (अहिंसा). People can also choose to make donations (दान) including drinks and food to participating monks and monasteries in acts of compassion.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2217" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  In many ways, the festival bears similarities to another month-long celebration observed by Newar Buddhists, primarily in Kathmandu. Gunla, which translates into the month of merits, is the tenth month in the Nepal Sambat calendar which typically falls during the monsoon. Gunla is a time for spiritual reflection on the Dharma by reciting the scriptures, fasting, playing devotional music, going on pilgrimages and attaining the five moral precepts known as the (पञ्चशील) -- abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and taking intoxicants.

Sonia Awale

A million mantras in Mustang

The Supreme Court order last week to press criminal investigation against former House Speaker Agni Sapkota for his alleged involvement in abduction and murder of Arjun Bahadur Lama in 2005 has opened the door to investigate other war crimes. Lama was 45 years old in 2005 and a UML member when he was abducted by Maoists. His body was exhumed two months later. A National Human Rights Commission report implicated Maoist leaders including Sapkota who commanded the guerrilla unit in Kavre. Lama’s wife, Purnimaya, filed a complaint at the Kavre District Police Office in 2007, but police refused to register it, stating that it should be forwarded to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). She then filed a writ at the Supreme Court, which in 2008 ordered the police to register the complaint. The case was under police investigation and an arrest warrant issued, only for the Cabinet led in 2012 by Maoist Prime Minister Baburam Bhattarai to shelve the complaint and the Supreme Court’s order. But last week’s ruling led by Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Raut overturned that decision, allowing &nbsp;the investigation to proceed. In all this time, Sapkota has served as Minister of Information and Communication in 2011 and Minister of Forest and Soil Conservation in 2015. Despite being accused of murder, Sapkota was nominated as Speaker of the House of Representatives in 2020. "My husband never brought harm upon anyone, why did they committed such a heinous crime against him?" said Purnimaya Lama at an event this week. "I will wait my entire life for his murderer to be punished to the full extent of the law." The Comprehensive Peace Accord between the Maoists and the government in 2006, envisaged the formation of a TRC and a Commission of Investigation of Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP). When finally set up in 2015, both commissions were headed by political appointees, and there were no investigations or prosecutions. Last month, after prolonged discussions, the three main political parties selected former high court judge Mahesh Thapa as the TRC chair and former chief secretary Lila Devi Gadtaula to head the CIEDP. The two appointments and &nbsp;membership have been criticised by survivors and their families. They said there was no consultation, and the selection was arbitrary, untrustworthy, and disrespectful. “Transparency was lacking during the appointment of the officials at the commissions and the officials appointed are not competent in transitional justice issues,” says Suman Adhikari, Founder Chairperson of Conflict Victims Common Platform. The CPA marked the beginning of Nepal’s transitional justice process and formally brought an end to decades long Maoist insurgency. TRC and CIEDP were set up to ensure justice for the victims of the conflict. But the two commissions were formed nine years after the ceasefire because the two former enemies had by then become the state and did not want war crimes to be raked up. The 2015 earthquake became the pretext for delaying the appointment of the first group of commissioners, and Covid pandemic became the second. The inability of the three main political parties to agree on appointments meant the commissions stayed vacant for years. Both the commissions have also had their mandates extended since 2017. There are over 60,000 complaints registered at both commissions, of which 63,000 wartime excesses were at the TRC and 3,300 cases of disappearances at the CIEDP. But not a single case was investigated, and the perpetrators brought to justice. International human rights agencies have repeatedly called for amendments in the acts of the commissions, which have been endorsed but lack implementation.&nbsp; Says Ram Bhandari of the National Network of the Victims of Serious Human Rights Violations: “The implementation of the acts is in limbo. A major concern is that political leaders have tried to take the process ahead single-handedly.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061212060_11e8b9f431e1cf23e4199128d2c037a5ed8edb09448c99b5f3c3f425ed9712d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025061212060_11e8b9f431e1cf23e4199128d2c037a5ed8edb09448c99b5f3c3f425ed9712d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="856" loading="lazy" alt="Remembering not to forget war crimes NT"> <figcaption>Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala and Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal shake hands after signing the Comprehensive Peace Accord in 2006. Photo: SAGAR SHRESTHA / NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Just as the Maoists and the &nbsp;parties they fought against are now in Parliament and are a part of Nepal’s democratic system, families of victims whose kin were killed by both sides have now also united in their call for justice for war crimes.&nbsp; For example, Suman Adhikari’s father Mukti Adhikari, who was a teacher in a village school in Lamjung, was executed by Maoist guerrillas in 2002. Ram Bhandari’s father who was also a teacher was disappeared by the Army in 2001 from Besisahar. The Supreme Court in 2020 upheld that there cannot be amnesties for serious crimes like torture and enforced disappearances as per international law. Nearly 1,400 people were disappeared by both sides during the 10-year conflict, and 322 cases of war rape and of sexual violence have been registered in both commissions. “Cases of sexual violence must be registered three months post the issuance of the notice, not from the date of incident,” states Geeta Rasaili of the Conflict Victims National Women Network. “Such cases must be treated with utmost sensitivity, ensuring the victims’ protection of identity. This can be done only by capable and experienced personnel.” Much like everything else, transitional justice in Nepal is political. Successive governments since 2006 have been made up of former rebels who committed war crimes and Nepali Congress (NC) ministers who were in power during the insurgency, and this has undermined the process. “The key decision makers in the government from both sides are the same people who were involved in human rights violations during the conflict,” says Ram Bhandari. “The peace process has therefore become perpetrator centric, rather than victim centric.” Suman Adhikari echoes this view: “Instead of being answerable and responsible towards the victims in the justice process, the leaders have instead been looking to protect their own interests. Our voices and representation have largely been ignored, the leaders have been continuously trying to delay, dilute and deny the process.” After 2006, the peace process was steered by the United Nations Mission in Nepal (UNMIN) which supervised camps to disarm and demobilise the guerrillas. Initially, there was strong financial support and political pressure from Western countries and rights groups for Nepal’s transitional justice process.&nbsp; But with America backsliding on democracy and human rights and Europe increasingly distracted by the Ukraine-Russia war, the West has lost much of its moral high ground.&nbsp; This has coincided with the rise of emerging global powers, China and India, in Nepal’s neighbourhood who have never been big on human rights and freedom of expression. At its current pace, it may take decades to resolve all the 67,000 cases registered in both the commissions — which suits the NC and Maoists fine since time is on their side. However, the lethargy in sanctioning reparations and investigations will further erode public trust, and risk a future resurgence of violence fuelled by vengeance. Rights activists recommended that rather than compiling and making bulky reports of cases, they should be sent to the attorney general in batches with periodic reports. But there is little political will to even do this.&nbsp; Says transitional justice expert Rajendra Senchurey: “The process of investigations, truth-seeking and archiving must be expedited. Reparations also must be fast tracked alongside.” &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612110656_6462e7168ada9450dd629a5063fcb45686e91b1884bb62f3ff2cf4f6c088037f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250612110656_6462e7168ada9450dd629a5063fcb45686e91b1884bb62f3ff2cf4f6c088037f" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="443" loading="lazy" alt="Remembering not to forget war crimes NT"> </figure>

Remembering not to forget war crimes

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

Turkish Airlines has been presented with the Sustainable Financing Pioneer Award by Ishka, recognising its landmark transaction that, for the first time, integrated a sustainability-linked loan structure into a multi-currency JOLCO financing model for the acquisition of two next-generation, fuel-efficient Airbus A321neo aircraft. This innovative transaction, arranged by Societe Generale, links the financing terms to Turkish Airlines’ Sustainability Performance Targets (SPTs), particularly the goal of reducing carbon intensity across its fleet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;“We believe this structure not only supports our fleet renewal and growth objectives, but also reinforces our long-term commitment to becoming a carbon-neutral airline by 2050,” said Chief Financial Officer Murat Şeker.

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