<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-face-of-a-himalayan-climate-crisis" target="_blank">Janmu Sherpa</a> was a grandmother with a dozen goats and a tea house in Donggang in the Rolwaling Valley. Her stopover served trekkers en route to Tso Rolpa Glacial Lake and the trail over Tashi Laptsa Pass to Khumbu.
In 2018, I spent months in the Rolwaling Valley studying how <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/rastraraj_bhandari_what_climate_activists_are_doing_wrong" target="_blank">mountain communities perceive</a> climate change. Unlike my climate-anxious self, Janmu was calm, even hopeful, despite having lived through floods, landslides, and the 2015 earthquakes.
“No one knows when Tso Rolpa will burst, so we cannot stop our daily chores. Let fate decide,” Janmu Sherpa had said.
Last year, fate did decide. On 22 June 2024, the Dorji Phungmo Glacial Lake burst. The resulting flood swept through the Rolwaling River, washing away homes and hotels in Donggang. Janmu <a href="https://thehimalayantimes.com/nepal/climbers-valley-devastated-by-floods-immediate-relief-sought" target="_blank">was among</a> the missing, and later declared dead.&nbsp;
I learned of her disappearance during a recent cycling trip through Panauti along the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-flood-of-tears-on-the-rosi" target="_blank">Rosi Khola</a>, which was devastated by deadly flash floods on 28 September 2024.
Tipper trucks rumbled through the dusty road, carrying stones and gravel from unregulated quarries and sand mining along the Rosi. This was destruction disguised as development, and the crusher industries had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers" target="_blank">magnified the impact of record rainfall</a>.
On the other side of the mountain, along the Lele and Karmanasa Khola, families are still reeling from last year’s floods. Here, too, a quarrying frenzy exacerbated the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">destructive power of the floods</a>.
There are thousands of untold stories like Janmu, and the estimated 200 who perished in the September floods. Most have been forgotten, their deaths blamed on fate.
I write this from afar, as Kathmandu hosts the Sagarmatha Sambaad this week to draw global attention to the impact of the climate crisis on the Himalaya. The summit took place as pre-monsoon rains lashed the Rosi and Lele Valleys. Even before the start of the rainy season, more debris flows from the mining operations destroyed repaired roads and neighbourhoods rebuilt after floods last year.
The rivers that flooded Kathmandu in September 2024 are still vulnerable. Aside from a few sandbanks built by local hands, nothing has changed. No national reckoning. No systemic response. Instead, everything is blamed on climate change.
<a href="http://as%20kathmandu%20hosts%20the%20sagarmatha%20sambaad/" target="_blank">Janmu Sherpa’s story</a> haunts me not just because of her loss, but because she shaped my journey as a climate activist. She taught me that climate action is not just about carbon or conferences, it is about livelihoods, listening, and the impossible trade-offs faced by communities where survival is more urgent than sustainability.
As monsoon clouds gather again, there is a sense of dread not just about floods, but for the apathy that follows. We are trapped in a cycle of climate inaction fueled by corruption, state neglect, and a development model that treats rivers as resources to be drained, not lifelines to be protected.
It is no longer a question of if the floods will come, but when, and how devastating they will be.
And yet, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/politicians-and-cronies-blamed-for-kavre-floods" target="_blank">those in power remain unmoved</a> even when disaster strikes their own backyard. We are still chasing climate finance and hosting international summits, while local insurance markets stagnate and communities fend for themselves.
To be sure, global advocacy matters. The Himalayan climate crisis must be on the international agenda. Melting glaciers here affect billions downstream. But adaptation cannot begin and end in air-conditioned conference halls. It must bring real preparedness to villages, valleys, and riverbanks of Nepal.
I visited the communities ravaged by floods in September and as I wrote in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a> then, top-down responses are always too little, too late and too ineffective. The only real solution is bottom-up, community-led adaptation. Those who lived through the floods know what needs to be done, and those privileged and in power need to enable them.
Community-led adaptation is not just a buzzword. It is our only viable path forward. It means empowering local people with the tools, knowledge, and resources to protect themselves.
It means investing in early warning systems that reach the last mile and actually work, restoring ecosystems that buffer floods, and supporting indigenous knowledge that has long helped communities live in harmony with nature.
It means letting go of our belief that somehow our degrees in climate change and attendance in global climate conferences enable us to tell communities how they should be responding to climate change. It means shifting power and funding to the grassroots, where resilience is not theoretical — it is lived, practiced, and urgently needed.
As the rains return, I am reminded of Janmu Sherpa’s voice of quiet wisdom. Her innate resilience did not save her life. Let us not wait for the next flood to act. Let us protect what we still have.
Rastra Raj Bhandari is co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya.

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Comment

A pre-monsoon déjà vu

The recent removal of Kulman Ghising a few months before his tenure heading the National Electricity Authority (NEA) ended made headlines. Hitendra Dev Shakya, whose previous tenure ended amid similar behind-the-scenes politics that <a href="https://en.setopati.com/political/157021">never saw a final court verdict</a>, was put back in charge.&nbsp;
For many, Ghising was the architect of the end of 18-hour-a-day power cuts till a decade ago. His abrupt removal sparked outrage across the public sphere, and the political spectrum.
Leadership at the NEA has never been just about performance, it has long been entangled in political proximity, not merit. The agency is more than a power utility, it is more about control of budgets, contracts, and narratives.
As long as the lights stay on, many Nepalis will willingly overlook the messy compromises that greases the system. Appointments, removals, court cases, and backroom political bargain are the norm. Sometimes like with Ghising, a figure emerges as a public hero, sometimes, they do not.
A decade after routine load-shedding ended, political leaders still scramble to claim credit, over what should fundamentally be just the day-to-day work. The sector is mired in controversies, from metering disputes to ad hoc political committees, tariff issues, to negotiating cross border power trade.&nbsp;
Even basic statistics like electrification rates are held hostage to executive narratives with no clear standards and compliance on what counts as real access. Nepal's power sector seems to be running without a referee.
There are three agencies involved: the <a href="https://moewri.gov.np/">Ministry of Energy</a>, the NEA, and the little-known <a href="https://erc.gov.np/">Electricity Regulatory Commission (ERC),</a> each with a distinct mandate, at least on paper.
In a well-regulated market, issues like metering disputes and executive appointments would barely register outside the industry. In Nepal, such decisions often spill into political crises and can shake the fate of governments. Yet, the ERC is rarely seen or heard, even when these issues strike at the heart of its regulatory mandate.
Blurred roles have left Nepal’s power sector in a state of chronic overlap. The ministry often interferes with operations, drawn by the quiet influence that comes with the turf: contracts, budgets, and visibility.&nbsp;
NEA straddles the line between implementer and influencer, while the regulator still seems hesitant to assert its space.
Created in 2019 after years of industry bargaining, the regulator’s job is to establish rules, resolve disputes, and bring predictability and fairness back to the system. And this critical role remains a blind spot in Nepal’s energy debate and power struggles.
Disputes that should fall under regulatory inquiry and consultation, from the Time-of-Day (ToD) meter disputes and industrial payment defaults, to the NEA’s role in cross border power trade negotiations have instead become political flashpoints.
Despite the politics, if a regulator cannot assert itself in matters squarely within its mandate like pricing, contracts, disputes, compliance, what exactly is it regulating?&nbsp;
We did not create this new regulator just to be another spectator. But that, for now, is all it seems determined to be.
The regulatory mess runs deeper into the way Nepal prices its electricity. By many measures, Nepal’s electricity sector has made real progress. The country now exports surplus power to India while still relying on imports during peak demand. In 2023/24, Nepal became a net electricity exporter for the first time, selling as much power as &nbsp;two and half months of domestic demand.&nbsp;
Every hydropower <a href="https://nea.org.np/admin/assets/uploads/PPA_Rates.pdf">project under 100 megawatts is paid the same flat rate</a>: Rs8.40 per kilowatt-hour in the dry season, Rs4.80 in the wet season. Hard or easy, near or remote, the price stays flat.&nbsp;
Whether a project is built right along the accessible roads of Trisuli corridor or in the remote gorges of the Karnali that demand new roads and transmission lines to &nbsp;generation sites, it is the same price.
The Chamelia Hydropower Project cost <a href="https://www.adb.org/sites/default/files/project-documents/41025-012-nep-tacr.pdf">NPR 56 crore per megawatt to build</a>. Chilime came in at about Rs140 million. In a functioning system, a regulator would benchmark these costs, scrutinise financial models, and adjust tariffs to reflect real-world differences. &nbsp;&nbsp;
To give the ERC some benefit of doubt: it is a young institution<s>.</s> But institutions do not mature by aging; they need to step up and take positions, enforce rules, intervene, and speak up when it’s easier to stay silent, whether the pressure comes from a utility boss or a political heavyweight, celebrity or not.&nbsp;
Nepal’s energy industry cannot afford a regulator that hides every time the stakes get high. That responsibility weighs even heavier today. Ram Prasad Dhital, the current Chair of the ERC, was not an outsider parachuted into the role. He served as one of the Commission’s founding cohort and has seen it through its formative years.&nbsp;
His second term cannot be for keeping the seat warm. But will the ERC act, or will it continue to choose the safer path of silence? As the ERC evolves, the challenge is not just about leadership. It must resist the prevailing tendency to solely rely on short-term contracts and familiar recycled bureaucratic networks.&nbsp;
Building a credible regulatory institution requires stability and technical depth, a professional core of energy experts, economists, engineers, financial analysts, and legal specialists who can audit costs, arbitrate disputes, and navigate the rapidly evolving regulatory terrains.&nbsp;
Tariffs must reflect real costs and real geographies. Export pricing must adapt to dynamic domestic and regional markets. Disputes must be settled through credible regulatory mechanisms rather than through endless political committees.
The real question now is not just what the ERC was created to do, but whether it has the will, the knowledge, and the courage to do it. &nbsp;And the longer it forgets that and drifts further to become another spectator, the deeper the price the industry will pay.
Bibek Raj Kandel works at the intersection of energy, climate, and political economy.&nbsp;

Opinion

Nepal’s Power Struggles

At the start of May, Bunu Dhungana brought some things in the belly home to Nepal. When she had curated the first iteration of the show in 2023, in Delhi, she had hoped she would be able to bring it home, and she did. The exhibition opened to the public in Kathmandu at Nepal Art Council on 2 May and closes on 16 May. The exhibition brings together works by Asmita Badi, Irina Giri, Shradha Devkota, Tripty Tamang Pakhrin, Shristi Shrestha, Ujjwala Maharjan, and the curator, Bunu Dhungana herself. And there’s an installation of yours truly. In the step up to the show, Bunu organised calls for the artists. Tripty joined at odd hours from her newfound home in Syracuse. As did Shradha from her home in London. Ujjwala joined, from her many different trips to India and other places in Nepal.&nbsp; The rest of us joined from wherever we were in Nepal during call hours, probing the unknown, most of us unsure what we wanted to present to the public. The only thing we had clarity on was the theme Bunu had suggested: mother-daughter relationship. And we were to exchange letters with our mothers. Some of us wrote letters to our mothers from the comfort of our homes, some from Pokhara, or whichever town we were in at the time of writing-- sending it by snail mail, which thankfully, hasn’t gone obsolete yet! Our mothers responded to us from their comfort nooks, each one, taking it up seriously like little girls responding to school assignments. Standing before the wall that has the mothers’ letters at the exhibition, one is easily struck by the basicness of the stationery used by the mothers to write to their daughters. They use pages torn out from a notebook, loose examination sheets or even an abandoned diary. So simple and so straightforward. And in that, powerful. Like the truth of the uterus that is all mothers. In the letters, their emotions take center-stage, as maternal emotions do, coming from a place of wanting the best for their daughters-- to protect them, and to keep them happy and healthy. Daughters’ desires are not too different from that of the mothers. But they come in more complex forms and through different mediums. They write an entire journal on these feelings, write pages and pages, enough to fill a room, weave poems and songs from the rhythm that connects the phantom umbilical cord to the mother. Daughters compose images-- some of oil and smoke, some of suffocation, of stillness, of water and ice and of open spaces and of moments of strife, like something heavy being dragged up a stairway by a lone woman.&nbsp; “While not all the works were made exclusively for the show, I did create new pieces - paper made from a letter I wrote to my mothers, and a series of linoleum cut prints. These processes made me reflect more deeply on the role of repetitive, physical labor in my practice and how it relates to the everyday labor of my mothers,” says Tripty, who documents work dedicated to her two mothers. And there are bright hues in gouache, where mothers and daughters are arrested in moments of fun and chit-chat or even just being at the table watching Tiktok. There’s abandoned sound in a dark, spotlit corner, which takes the listener through a journey of contemplation and upheavals. And there are stories from the kitchen, the base for most mothers in the world. For many of us, it is sometimes impossible to separate the fragrance of spices from our mothers or to tell the spices apart from the scent of our mothers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514140528_1dd1b5f95e6230f49afb3b084b88542b3fbcc6a454548a3eee60ee85724f7215.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250514140528_1dd1b5f95e6230f49afb3b084b88542b3fbcc6a454548a3eee60ee85724f7215" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="some things in the belly"> </figure>  some things in the belly is an intimate exhibition, and as the show got underway, visitors were seen returning as if to collect something they had left behind. Many kept coming back to read and to write. And that was precisely what Bunu had wanted to create-- a safe space. Visitors sat down, read, wrote letters to their mothers, listened, watched, laughed and wept. Ujjwala says: “The [letter-posting] wall, how it’s growing and how people are reading and writing, that’s the most interesting thing for me. You don’t know how people connect and what hits who. But I’ve seen people tearing up at the letter-writing section. You forget that it does reach the people it needs to reach.” Bunu’s aim when she was taking on the challenge of curating the exhibition was to also create a circle of sisterhood, by bringing together women to work together on a theme. And in the process, she has also managed to help the artists involved create and learn from one another and to be deeply touched by the familiarity of sentiments. “Each piece is so different and that is the beauty of this exhibition that has come together. Tripty’s and Shradha’s work, the experimentation was very inspiring for me and the process itself...what has come out is powerful,” explains Ujjwala.&nbsp; She adds: “They are visual artists but the poetry in it is so beautiful. Shristi’s work, I fell in love with. The care of it. Ashmita’s work, too. To textual people, the importance of a desk and sitting down, the tactileness of books that inspire us. What would mom write? What would their lives be like...the imagination is dreaming along with our moms-- the amalgamation of dreams.” In one of her journal notes to her mother, Ujjwala mentions she can’t remember how long it has been since she gazed carefully into her mother’s face. One pauses to read that sentence again. How long since we did that? At the heart of the stories in the exhibition is also intergenerational trauma and mother-daughter conflict-- how mothers and daughters tug in different directions, even when they’re chasing the same love.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514140528_d150acebaa02da545dd3c92db7c1202aef73e60d600537106ec0db40dc84cbfc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250514140528_d150acebaa02da545dd3c92db7c1202aef73e60d600537106ec0db40dc84cbfc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="some things in the belly"> </figure>  When Hishila Yami and her daughter Manushi visited the exhibition with little Yugeen in tow, we caught up on this topic briefly. Manushi said: “We hold so much in our hearts and who do we tell it all to? So we end up dumping it on our mothers. Because who else is there for us as mothers are? “We have such complex relationships of love with our mothers,” Bunu said.&nbsp; All loves have their own equations. The love daughters feel for their mothers is raw and tender and full of familiarity. Everything daughters want for their mother is the same they would want for their daughter, so in that, we serve an endless knot.&nbsp; Then there’s the question of language. What language really serves as a bridge in the gap that exists in mother-daughter relationships? How do we make up in language for the absence of words that can ever convey the sentiments? And so the process of creating some things in the belly has been something like reforging mother-daughter relationships in the crucible. “Each one of us has shaped our practices, and stepped more fully into ourselves. Watching that unfold has been such a privilege,” says Shradha. “I hope, as a collective, this exhibition has offered something real for people to hold onto, reflect upon, or carry with them.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/our-mothers-silences">Our mothers' silences</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar some things in the belly Till 16 May Nepal Art Council, Baber Mahal

Pratibha Tuladhar

Suburban Tales

Dear Maa,

The two sides of Punjab in India and Pakistan may be 2,000km away, but the war between two <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/south-asia-2040-qxr16oup">South Asian neighbours </a>sent aftershocks here to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/nepal-india-trans-boundary-bonds">India-Nepal border</a>.&nbsp; Among the 26 tourists killed by terrorists in Pahalgam on 22 April was a Nepali from Butwal on a holiday with his family, and Nepali nationals enlisted in the Indian Army could be see action in case of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/peacemongers-at-india-pakistan-border">conflict between India and Pakistan</a>.&nbsp; The open border between India and Nepal is usually relaxed with people going back and forth without much checking, but after hostilities broke out last week, controls by India’s Border Security Force of documents and inspections of vehicles has been stepped up. About 15km east of Birganj is the frontier village of Ghodasahan. On the Nepal side, the settlement is under the Bisrampur Rural Municipality in Bara District and on the other side it is in East Champaran of India’s Bihar state. There are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/20-years-ago-this-week/secularism-debate">Hindus and Muslims </a>on both sides of the national boundary that slices through the village. The increased security on both sides of the border is starting to affect the daily life of villagers who had been used to going back and forth without any hindrance. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nukes-in-the-neighbourhood">Nukes in the neighbourhood</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250511160520_7202b268e053118ed783c740918389ace533bf47576c0bda787eecb6f71af5b9.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250511160520_7202b268e053118ed783c740918389ace533bf47576c0bda787eecb6f71af5b9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2230" height="1534" loading="lazy" alt="No man's land"> </figure>  “We know who the locals are, but if there are people who we don’t know and they look different, we interrogate them,” one Nepali security official said, adding that local people also inform the police if they see any strangers. Right along the 1,700km <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/people-to-people-at-india-nepal-border">Nepal-India border</a>, there are many townships like Ghodasahan which have the same name on both sides of the border. In some places, the border divides <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/home-is-where-the-heart-is">homes and households</a>, in others one side of the road is in Nepal and the other side is in India.&nbsp; In most of these villages, the local people have come to accept the presence of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/job-insecurity-in-security-forces?%2F">security forces </a>on both sides. Some farms are divided by the border, and villagers are used to border guards inspecting harvests being brought across. The India-Nepal border is also a hotbed of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/smuggled-chimps-wait-it-out-in-kathmandu?%2F">smuggling</a>, so police inspections are normal, but the heightened tension between India and Pakistan have made such checks stricter. Also in Bara district is the village of Gulariya which also stretches on both sides of the border. Seventy-year-old Satan Bhagat’s house is on the other side of no-man’s land in India but his livestock shed is in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250511160520_4b4057c9f03b82e4f634fc071929b2847897b13982e2dc08eaaa48c6feb9f906.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250511160520_4b4057c9f03b82e4f634fc071929b2847897b13982e2dc08eaaa48c6feb9f906" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1204" loading="lazy" alt="No man's land NT"> <figcaption>Satan Bhagat</figcaption> </figure>  With new requirements for citizenship on both sides, and stricter enforcement of those with dual citizenship, families are having to decide whether they are Nepali or Indian. “We don’t want war, we want peace,” said one villager, apprehensive of the spillover effect of the India-Pakistan conflict. “In the 1971 war we followed what was happening on the radio, but now we know minute-by-minute what is happening <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/surveying-nepal-s-digital-landscape">on our mobiles.</a>”&nbsp; The open Nepal-India border is a model for other parts of the world, where frontier controls are getting tighter and populist anti-migration parties are winning elections. The rhyming slogan in Hindi here has been ‘बोर्डर बनेंगे अमन के निशान, दोनों &nbsp;मित्र नेपाल - हिंदुस्तान’ (Nepal-India Border: A Symbol of Peace).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250511160520_7607dcca541c23093c11c3b3a5e1380d27401d458d2ce28a24c18a6b609df1fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250511160520_7607dcca541c23093c11c3b3a5e1380d27401d458d2ce28a24c18a6b609df1fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1204" loading="lazy" alt="No man's land NT"> <figcaption>The village of Gulariya in Bara district also stretches on both sides of the Nepal-India border.</figcaption> </figure>  But slogans only go far when policies about these<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7594"> borderlands </a>are made in faraway national capitals in New Delhi and Kathmandu. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/messaging-is-the-message">The media </a>also has a role in making border controls only about security and crime, and not about how much it helps local people on both sides. The reason there are calls for stricter border control is due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">geopolitics</a>, and this concern has been enhanced by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/indo-pak-tension-hits-saarc-climate-action">the India-Pakistan conflict</a>. But this is not just about safeguarding India’s security interests, but also about Nepal being vigilant and taking advantage of its open border.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250511160524_d31874e0dad74299d3849a37690e050690604a03f0320b79f1816ea3bb039679.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250511160524_d31874e0dad74299d3849a37690e050690604a03f0320b79f1816ea3bb039679" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1204" loading="lazy" alt="No man's land NT"> <figcaption>Naser Ahmed</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/the-world-9-11-made">Terrorism </a>cannot be defined as ‘moderate’ or ‘radical’. Terror has no morals. It cannot be justified by arguments for or against. Terrorism has no respect for innocent human life — whether it is structural violence of the state, or militant counter-violence. Pahalgam was proof that terrorism is not an accident. It does not happen in a vacuum. When geopolitical rivalry is involved, it complicates matters further as a tit-for-tat in which <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-not-to-forget-the-peoples-war">innocent civilians are cruelly caught in the crossfire</a>.&nbsp; As Naser Ahmed on the Nepal side of the border village of Ghodasahan says: “The open border may not be open forever, we have to work to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/justice-delayed-justice-denied-byrx8a1c">safeguard peace </a>on both sides of no-man’s land.”

Chandra Kishore

Borderlines

No-man’s land

The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141">Rato Matsyendranath Chariot Festival</a> started in Patan this week, one of the longest such carnivals in the world. Matsyendranath is a festival that spans South Asia and is revered as a rain-giver god by both Hindus and Buddhists. It has close historical links to the Indian state of Assam. Legend has it that 1,500 years ago, a 12-year drought threatened famine in Kathmandu Valley because the sage Gorakhnath was sitting on a bed of serpents preventing rain from falling. In despair, the Lichhavi King Narendra Dev travelled to Guwahati to bring Guru Matsyendranath to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">the town of Bungamati</a>. Gorakhnath was a disciple of Matsyendranath, and upon seeing his guru, promptly stood up, thus setting the serpents free. The heavens then opened up with life-giving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">rain</a>. Ever since, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the Rato Matsyendra idol</a> is brought from Bungamati and taken around Patan in a month-long chariot festival. Matsyendranath is also known as Bungadyo in Kathmandu Valley and revered as the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/attaining-divinity-through-art">Buddhist divinity </a><a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival">Karunamaya</a>, his teachings influenced Hatha Yoga and Tantric practices. It is believed that Matsyendranath was an actual sage, and while it is not clear when exactly he lived, it is thought that he was incarnated from a fish and became a great yogi, carrying divine wisdom from his early spiritual experiences. Matsyendranath started being worshipped as the god of rain and fertility around the 7th century CE during the reign of King Narendra Dev in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu Valley</a>. Researchers have been unable to agree on the exact dates and the actual historical details of his life are connected to Nepal and Bengal, Assam, and Karnataka in India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050544_18c6ebf38935591d1b0e327a79ecfb52ba7155c12df76d56cdb6cc0a1a4168ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250509050544_18c6ebf38935591d1b0e327a79ecfb52ba7155c12df76d56cdb6cc0a1a4168ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  This festival is celebrated according to the lunar calendar and it holds great significance for the people of Kathmandu Valley. Millions of devotees travel to the chariot during its month-long journey through<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/patan-for-beginners"> the streets of Patan</a>. Once every 12 years, the procession travels from Bungamati to Jawalakhel and it becomes a grand religious and cultural event, with tens of thousands thronging the route to offer respects. Local communities from 21 neighbourhoods along the way take turns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/police-stop-patan-chariot-pulling-citing-covid-19-9wbzmxtq">pulling the chariot</a>, providing drinking water, sanitation, and health services. The 30m high wooden chariot is built and dismantled every year, without the use of any nails. The timber beams are strung together with vines especially imported from Assam. The chariot is pulled by various guthi communities along the route, and there are strict procedures that have to be adhered to in the construction and the locomotion of the four-wheeled chariot.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050552_6fc306bccfa097c71e71fda24b0bed1c87f1e7a9bffa7ceb09c97608b822f07d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250509050552_6fc306bccfa097c71e71fda24b0bed1c87f1e7a9bffa7ceb09c97608b822f07d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  The climax of the festival is the viewing of a jewel-encrusted vest (bhoto) in the presence of the king of Nepal when the country was still <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal">a monarchy</a> and now before the President. The bhoto is not only a piece of jewelry but also a physical manifestation of the god’s blessings.&nbsp; The festival fosters <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/my-sweet-lord?%2F">religious devotion </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-is-turning-into-a-nation-of-hybrid-identities">cultural identity</a> not just among Kathmandu Valley’s Newar population, but it also connects Nepalis emotionally and spiritually.&nbsp; In the coming weeks, the chariot procession of Matsyendranath and the smaller accompanying Minnath chariot will pass through <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">Patan Darbar Square</a>, on to Lagankhel and then Jawalakhel. The streets are cleaned and cleared as though it is a divine path, transforming the physical world into something celestial. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">The chariot itself is the result of a collective effort</a>. Designated teams take one month to construct a new chariot every year, the act of assembling the chariot itself is a devotional act, with the technique passed down from one generation to the next. The artisans believe they are receiving blessings from Rato Matsyendranath through their work.&nbsp; The guthi devotees contribute financially to the costs of maintaining and repairing the chariot, the donations are not merely physical exchanges, but also serve as expressions of devotion. This creates a reciprocal relationship between people and their god. From a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism</a> perspective, the festival also holds great importance, benefiting the local economy. In living religions, physical culture is often linked to tourism and pilgrimage. The chariot festival attracts visitors from Nepal and abroad, creating a blend of religious pilgrimage and cultural events that bring people together.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050552_1dd01605a22f3d3ba5cc1f94c3aa89ed4deb44ca6b0ad5be8d9ddf8aacf55773.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250509050552_1dd01605a22f3d3ba5cc1f94c3aa89ed4deb44ca6b0ad5be8d9ddf8aacf55773" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  The festival also requires close coordination between various agencies of government, and it works more seamlessly than in other spheres of national life: Lalitpur District Administration, Department of Roads, Drinking Water Corporation, and the Nepal Electricity Authority. &nbsp; The government’s Guthi Sansthan is responsible for managing cultural programs and fundraising efforts, ensuring that the festival’s cultural heritage is preserved. Alongside this, the Lalitpur Metropolitan City, the local governing body, oversees the festival’s organisation.&nbsp; Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan himself led a delegation of chariot construction and pulling teams to Guwahati earlier this year to revive <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived?fbclid=IwY2xjawIYRjxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHa9fxIFIz8qRyff36GlX3JQhEi4z7qZ_xQmzs6TO73QzSP7H_9zcEi8XFg_aem_v9DlVc1cB2QuEOcqYYPGjg">the connection between Nepal and Assam</a>. <h2>Teamwork</h2> Many organisations and professions are involved in the Matsyendranath Chariot Festival: Jyapu Samaj: a community-based volunteer organisation that works closely with various ethnic groups across Patan, coordinating festival activities and ensuring effective collaboration.&nbsp; Paneju Sangh: an organisation of priests from the Matsyendranath tradition overseeing religious activities. They perform daily prayers and other religious rituals to uphold the spiritual sanctity of the event.&nbsp; Astrologers: play a critical role by determining the auspicious time for the deity’s transfer, ensuring that the process is conducted according to divine timings.&nbsp; Bosi: are responsible for selecting and preparing the appropriate timber for the chariot, ensuring its readiness for the journey.&nbsp; Barahi: are the carpenters who handle the construction and leadership of the chariot ensuring its craftsmanship and precision.&nbsp; Yenwa: are tasked with reinforcing the chariot’s structure using bamboo, rope, and other materials, and they also guide the chariot during the procession.&nbsp; Ghaku: steer the movement of the chariot carefully through Patan’s narrow streets.&nbsp; Pun: are painters responsible for repairing and painting the deity’s face to maintain its visual integrity throughout the procession. Dila Chahre: they go before the chariot procession to Kwoduwa twice a year to receive blessings from the deity and manage the morning puja throughout the chariot procession. Kuma: prepare clay containers needed for the Dashakarma puja.&nbsp; Suwa: offer sacrifices during the puja, bring water from Bungamati during the bath procession, and cover the deity with a canopy while bringing the deity from the Kuduwama twice a year. Guruju: participate in the Ivu bath procession, offer sacrifices at Nasalchok, and engage in the Mahabali puja.&nbsp; Rakami: participate in the pre-procession rituals before the chariot procession begins. Tole Sudhar Samiti: 21 local wards take turns pulling the chariot and provide essential services such as drinking water, sanitation, and health support to participants.&nbsp; Vidhu Kayastha, PhD, has been conducting research on Rato Matsyendranath since 2011.

The reign of the god of rain

In 2025, two seemingly disconnected acts of violence shattered the illusion of stability in the region. In March, <a href="https://www.ft.com/content/16f7f947-1e96-4206-9844-891378adc683" target="_blank">militants hijacked a passenger train</a> near the Bolan Pass in Balochistan, executing soldiers in cold blood. A month later, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/22/world/asia/kashmir-terrorist-attack.html" target="_blank">gunmen in Kashmir’s</a> Pahalgam Valley massacred tourists. 
In both Islamabad and New Delhi, <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/4/25/were-cursed-kashmiris-under-attack-across-india-after-pahalgam-killings" target="_blank">the reaction was reflexive:</a> condemn the violence, <a href="https://www.economist.com/asia/2025/04/22/india-and-pakistan-could-come-to-blows-over-kashmir" target="_blank">blame external enemies</a>, declare the situation contained. But South Asia’s leaders are not fighting terrorists alone. They are fighting the consequences of their own betrayals.
Across <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-26272897" target="_blank">Balochistan</a>, <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-south-asia-11693674" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, <a href="https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-asia/india/346-finding-way-out-festering-conflict-indias-manipur" target="_blank">Manipur</a>, and beyond, decades of <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/en/projects/enforced-disappearance-in-south-asia/" target="_blank">enforced disappearances</a>, broken promises, and brute militarisation have hollowed out the social contracts meant to hold these nations together. The grievances that drove rebellions from the 1940s through the 1990s – demands for dignity, recognition, and political agency – were never meaningfully addressed. They were buried beneath asphalt and propaganda, paved over by development projects and security checkpoints.
States may claim victory. But their victories are mirages, dissolving the moment anyone looks too closely. South Asia’s unfinished wars are not relics of a violent past. They are live ammunition, loaded into the future.
<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/mar/24/he-only-wanted-revenge-the-bloody-insurgency-in-balochistan-gaining-lethal-momentum" target="_blank">Balochistan</a> has been at war with Pakistan for most of its modern history. Rich in gas, minerals, and coastline, the province has been plundered for decades under the language of national development. 
Projects like the <a href="https://eastasiaforum.org/2020/11/26/pakistans-three-evils-cpec-and-good-governance/" target="_blank">China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC)</a> promise progress but deliver exclusion: minerals are mined, ports are secured, but Baloch homes are raided. 
The insurgency endures not because of foreign conspiracies, as Islamabad endlessly insists, but because the Pakistani state remains incapable of seeing its <a href="https://thebalochistanpost.net/2025/01/enforced-disappearances-in-balochistan-in-december-2024-tbp-report/" target="_blank">Baloch citizens</a> as anything other than a security problem to be managed.
In <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/ranisingh/2016/07/12/kashmir-in-the-worlds-most-militarized-zone-violence-after-years-of-comparative-calm/" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, the Indian government claims to have <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/08/world/asia/kashmir-village-defense-committees.html" target="_blank">“normalised” the valley</a> after revoking its autonomy in 2019. It <a href="https://www.cfr.org/global-conflict-tracker/conflict/conflict-between-india-and-pakistan" target="_blank">looks a lot like occupation</a>. Soldiers outnumber local leaders, dissent is criminalised, internet shutdowns suffocate public life. Tourism campaigns and investment summits cannot erase a generation raised under curfew and surveillance.
<a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-66260730" target="_blank">Manipur’s descent into ethnic bloodshed</a> in 2023 exposed another fault line Delhi prefers to ignore. Long-simmering tensions between the Meitei and Kuki communities erupted into violence that shattered any illusions of northeastern integration. The central government’s delayed, politicised response made clear what many Manipuris had always suspected: they are citizens of India only when convenient.
Even the <a href="https://msf.org.au/rohingya-worlds-largest-stateless-population" target="_blank">Rohingya, stateless and exiled from Myanmar</a>, find themselves entangled in South Asia’s ethnonationalist calculus. Fleeing genocide, they are criminalised anew in Bangladesh and India – trapped between the countries that reject them and the memories that refuse to let them go.
South Asia’s states have excelled at suppressing rebellion. But failed at extinguishing the reasons rebellions rise in the first place. And the wars South Asia tries to forget at home have found new life abroad.
Across <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-06-17/modis-indian-government-accused-of-spying-silencing-critics/103974414" target="_blank">Canada, Australia, Britain, and the United States</a>, diasporic communities have become memory-keepers and, increasingly, <a href="https://www.business-standard.com/world-news/khalistan-supporters-hold-protest-outside-indian-consulate-in-vancouver-123092600087_1.html" target="_blank">the agitators</a> for the struggles their home states would rather erase.
Khalistan flags fly outside Indian consulates in Vancouver and <a href="https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/punjab/perturbed-over-waving-of-khalistani-flags-at-an-event-in-melbourne-india-warns-australia-of-khalistan-separatists-and-their-links-with-terror-groups-458320/" target="_blank">Melbourne</a>. Tamil activists march through London, demanding accountability for the <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/5/19/grim-reminder-sri-lankas-tamils-mark-15-years-since-end-of-civil-war" target="_blank">massacres in Mullivaikkal</a>. Kashmiri protests in Washington and New York refuse to let India’s crackdown slip into diplomatic amnesia.
For host countries, these movements pose uncomfortable questions. Freedom of expression collides with fears of extremism. Clashes erupt between communities carrying wounds that their new homelands.
Meanwhile, South Asian states pursue their adversaries across borders. India faces allegations of <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/canada-says-india-home-minister-ordered-campaign-against-sikh-activist-rcna177972" target="_blank">targeting Sikh activists for assassination in Canada</a> and the <a href="https://www.npr.org/2024/10/27/g-s1-29561/sikh-separatist-assassination-india" target="_blank">United States</a>. Pakistan continues to court Kashmiri separatists abroad while crushing Baloch dissent at home. <a href="https://apnews.com/article/sri-lanka-tamils-civil-war-dead-5b372b0bba567837c5a4d94250040e7d" target="_blank">Sri Lanka</a> lobbies furiously to brand Tamil diaspora organisations as fronts for terrorism, even as it stonewalls investigations into its own wartime atrocities.
The old insurgencies have not been defeated. They have been globalised. South Asia’s governments have long mistaken silence for stability.
In Punjab, India broke the back of the <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2023/10/06/india/india-canada-sikh-khalistan-analysis-intl-hnk/index.html" target="_blank">Khalistan insurgency</a> through brute force. The fields grew green again, the trains ran on time. But the wounds were never closed, the <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/why-is-indias-khalistan-separatist-movement-on-the-rise/a-65081729" target="_blank">movement’s heart beats</a> not in Amritsar but in Brampton and Surrey.
In Sri Lanka, the <a href="https://www.academia.edu/4738983/The_Man_Who_Destroyed_Eelam" target="_blank">military crushed the Tamil Tigers</a> with <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2011/01/17/death-of-the-tiger" target="_blank">overwhelming brutality in 2009</a>. <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/politics/article/3264148/we-want-our-children-back-sri-lankan-families-still-demanding-justice-their-missing-loved-ones" target="_blank">Tamil families still search for their missing</a>, still mourn their dead – and still organise across the diaspora for justice that remains undelivered.
In Kashmir, Delhi boasts of new <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/opinions/2023/2/4/kashmir-is-bleeding-its-economy" target="_blank">highways and investment corridors</a>, showcasing the region as a trophy of unity. But when the visitors leave and the cameras are packed away, <a href="https://harvardlawreview.org/print/vol-134/from-domicile-to-dominion-indias-settler-colonial-agenda-in-kashmir/" target="_blank">the checkpoints, the raids, and the quiet despair remain.</a>
Victory parades fade. Grievance endures. Suppressing insurgency may end battles. It does not end the ideas that fueled them. In a region where <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/23/world/asia/kashmir-attack-india-pakistan.html" target="_blank">history is rarely past</a>, and memory is rarely voluntary, states that rule through repression are only ever buying time. And often, not very much.
South Asia’s unfinished wars are not accidents. They are the inevitable consequences of states that confuse conquest with consent, and erasure with reconciliation. They cannot legislate memory out of existence.
Every <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c15qyyzz89lo" target="_blank">disappeared son in Balochistan</a>, every <a href="https://medium.com/the-wvoice/the-half-widows-in-kashmir-fef80c6b88e9" target="_blank">half-widow in Kashmir</a>, every <a href="https://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/what-we-do/focus/rohingya-refugee-crisis" target="_blank">refugee child born stateless in a Rohingya camp</a> carries forward the memory of betrayal – a memory that outlives soldiers, politicians, and peace accords alike.
The region’s future will not be decided by GDP figures or infrastructure projects alone. It will be decided by whether its governments can summon the political courage to face the truths they have long suppressed – or whether they will continue down a path <a href="https://theconversation.com/india-is-using-the-g20-summit-to-further-its-settler-colonial-ambitions-in-kashmir-205166" target="_blank">where forgetting is demanded</a>, and rebellion becomes inevitable.
Shyam Tekwani is a professor at the Daniel K. Inouye Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies in Hawaii. This <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/nexus_articles/ghosts-at-the-border-south-asias-unfinished-wars/" target="_blank">article</a> was originally published on <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/security-nexus/" target="_blank">DKI APCSS Security Nexus.</a> The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of DKI APCSS, the Department of Defense, or the US Government. The appearance of external hyperlinks does not constitute endorsement by the United States Department of Defense (DoD) of the linked websites, or the information, products, or services contained therein. DoD does not exercise any editorial, security, or other control over the information you may find at these sites.

Balochistan to Kashmir

The armistice agreement that ended the Korean War in 1953 has been mentioned as a possible model for how to end the fighting in Ukraine. This makes sense. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-first-month">Trump administration</a>, however, seems to opt for a quick deal like the 1973 Paris agreement on Vietnam or the Minsk agreements of 2014–15, combining “ceasefires in place” with vain prospects of subsequently reaching a genuine <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/restorative-justice-for-peace-building">peace agreement</a>.
One lesson from the negotiations that led to the Korean armistice is that patient diplomacy is needed to end a stalemated war. When talks began in July 1951, the impatient Mao Zedong estimated that two weeks would be enough to conclude. The negotiations instead took two years.
The result was a long text, detailing the exact border line and establish a demilitarised zone across the peninsula under UN supervision. The stated intention was to follow up with a peace agreement. This came to nothing. The conference established for the purpose in Geneva decided instead to reach an agreement on Indochina, dividing Vietnam for the next 21 years and replacing the French with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-world-9-11-made">American military forces</a>.
The biggest difference between the Korea and Ukraine wars is that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/ukraines-lessons-for-sandwiched-nations-like-nepal">Ukrainians are fighting alone</a>, with only external military support, while the Korean War was primarily fought by American and Chinese forces on Korean soil.
Back then, the armistice agreement was concluded by the commanders of the US-dominated UN forces, the Chinese “volunteers”, and the North Korean army, against the wish of Syngman Rhee’s government in Seoul. He wanted to continue the fight for national reunification. Only after being offered a defence pact with the US did he accept the negotiated outcome, yet did not sign the agreement. South Korea has never signed the armistice that has prevented new <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2664">outbreaks of war</a>.
The key similarity between the Korean and Ukrainian wars is the prominent role of the USA as a supporter of the governments in Seoul and Kyiv. In both cases a condition for ensuring that an armistice can hold is that the US take responsibility for any agreement and joins up with others in providing security guarantees.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/is-the-time-ripe-for-an-end-to-the-ukraine-war">Is the time ripe for an end to the Ukraine war?</a> &nbsp;Herbert Wulf
A key reason why war has not resumed in Korea for the last 72 years is the continued US presence in the south. American troops act as a "tripwire," ensuring that any North Korean invasion would lead to a war it would surely lose. For the same reason, the US needs to have boots on the ground in Ukraine.
Another similarity is that any attempt to conclude a genuine peace agreement is futile. A genuine peace in Korea would require that North and South agree either on national reunification or on recognising each other as independent states, just as East and West Germany did in 1973.
A peace agreement was even more unthinkable for Syngman Rhee and Kim Il Sung in 1953–54 than it is for Seoul and Pyongyang today. It is just as inconceivable that President Vladimir Putin will withdraw voluntarily from Donbas and Krym as it is for President Volodymyr Zelensky to conclude a definitive peace agreement that does not recognise Ukrainian sovereignty to its entire territory.
To maintain the principle of national sovereignty and territorial integrity, it is also crucial for Europe and the UN that Russia’s violation of Ukrainian sovereignty is not internationally recognised. Therefore, just as the two Koreas, Russia and Ukraine must settle for something less than a peace treaty, namely an armistice. This may end the fighting and could save hundreds of thousands of lives but will not establish peace.
An armistice is not a simple ceasefire, where military forces are supposed to remain where they happen to be situated when the agreement is made. For a Ukrainian armistice to be respected, the Russian and Ukrainian forces must withdraw to either side of a clearly delineated demilitarised zone. This is complicated by the fact that the front lines are so long.
The easiest compromise would be for Ukraine to let Russia retain control over Krym, while Russia withdraws from Donbas. Third parties should put pressure on Moscow and Kyiv to accept that neat solution. To soften the pill, Ukraine could guarantee a high degree of local autonomy for Donetsk and Luhansk.
International monitoring with the use of satellite surveillance along the entire border would be needed. If one or both parties were to mobilise combat forces, launch drone attacks, or place rocket launchers on alert, warning signals should be triggered and international security guarantees enforced by robust multi-national forces.
A final similarity between Korea 1953 and Ukraine 2025 armistice is that both sides must abstain from any political interference at the other side of the agreed boundary. Russia and Ukraine must remain fully sovereign and independent states.
Any rapprochement between the two Korean states continues to depend on Seoul’s ability to convince Pyongyang that it does not seek regime change in the north and on the willingness of Kim Jong Un to abstain from provocative <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/thinking-the-thinkable">missile tests</a> and vocal threats.&nbsp;
Putin apparently wants an agreement to include a provision for new elections in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ukraine-crisis-hits-nepal-economy-hard">Ukraine</a>, so he can interfere in Ukraine’s internal affairs and remove Zelensky from power. This is a destructive demand that should be consistently rejected by any mediating or facilitating party to talks. The Ukrainians must decide for themselves when to lift their state of emergency and hold<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/is-democracy-too-expensive-for-nepal"> democratic elections</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">President Trump</a> has put pressure on Ukraine to agree to a ceasefire and has conceded on Ukraine’s behalf that it cannot get back all its lost territory or obtain NATO membership. He should now concentrate his efforts on convincing both sides to engage in negotiations for a strongly guaranteed and highly monitored armistice rather than a quick and fragile ceasefire or a dodgy settlement allowing one side to interfere in the other.
Stein Tønnesson is Senior Research Fellow (Peace and Security in Northeast Asia) at the Toda Peace Institute and Research Professor Emeritus, Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO).
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/how-to-agree-an-armistice-in-ukraine-lessons-from-korea.html">the original</a> with their permission.

How to agree an armistice in Ukraine

“Now with every gust of wind, the smell of dead bodies fills the air.” Thar Nge, a resident of Sagaing in Burma, was speaking to the conditions in earthquake-affected areas following the country’s catastrophic 7.7M earthquake on 28 March last month. Over four thousand people died in the disaster. For many in Nepal, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/photos-nepal-earthquake-2015,2207">scenes of the earthquake </a>on the news and photos on social media brought back painful memories of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu">the 2015 Nepal earthquake</a> 10 years ago this week. As a data analyst at Togglecorp, a private data analysis and software development company in Kathmandu, I have worked on several projects that included reviews of secondary data related to the most recent earthquakes in Burma, Morocco, Türkiye-Syria, and Nepal. The data shows a clear pattern and painful gaps in how countries respond to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-tale-of-two-disasters">large-scale disasters</a>. Analysis conducted through the Data Entry and Exploration Platform (DEEP) reveals a clear but grim reality: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">the cost of earthquakes</a> is not just measured in lives lost or buildings destroyed, but also in the speed, equity, and coordination of response efforts.<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/rebuilding-resilience-7-years-later"> Some communities rebuild</a>, many are left behind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250424070420_af853d6ca37b2e338a359939119c313cb40d19c4b15e9e2d6a910d04969f76a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250424070420_af853d6ca37b2e338a359939119c313cb40d19c4b15e9e2d6a910d04969f76a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1414" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Technology and tectonics"> </figure>  The data exposed not only shared struggles between Nepal, Burma and other countries that have suffered from earthquakes, such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/this-is-a-test">health system overloads and water-related disease outbreaks</a>, but also how drastically governance and politics affect outcomes. One theme that emerged, especially in Nepal and other countries in the region, is that earthquakes do not discriminate, but responses do. In the Burma earthquake, in some regions, 90% of homes were wiped out and over 28 hospitals were destroyed. Even as this happened, aid workers continued to face security threats while<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/helping-during-earthquake,2247"> delivering aid</a> and much-needed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/covid-19-relief-efforts">relief efforts</a>. Nepal faced similar hospital infrastructure challenges during the 2015 earthquake, where up to 90% of health facilities in districts like Sindhupalchok, Dolakha, and Gorkha were either destroyed or overwhelmed. In some areas, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-healer-of-far-western-nepal">doctors treated patients</a> in open fields, under tarpaulins, due to the collapse of ward buildings and lack of emergency tents. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">Structural problems</a>, Sonia Awale In the aftermath of the 2023 Türkiye-Syria earthquake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera">cholera outbreaks </a>surged due to failed water, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/toilet-trained-in-nepal">sanitation and hygiene systems</a>, and temporary tents could not keep up with displacement needs. While Nepal did not experience cholera outbreaks on that scale, post-quake <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-success-in-typhoid-vaccine-trial">diarrheal diseases</a> and sanitation concerns were widely reported, particularly in temporary camps with inadequate toilet facilities and poor hygiene practices. After the September 2023 earthquake in Morocco, because of the inaccessibility of many of its mountain villages, families had to dig with their bare hands to clear rubble while medical staff were forced to treat the sick and injured outdoors. Nepal shares similar geographic challenges seen in Morocco and Burma. During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-better-than-before">the 2015 earthquake</a>, landslides and damaged roads cut off villages in Rasuwa, Gorkha, and Lamjung, forcing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">rescue teams</a> to rely on helicopters. Even today, remote hill and mountain areas, especially in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-karnali-s-hunger-emergency">Karnali </a>and Sudurpaschim provinces, remain hard to reach during <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-more-women-die-in-nepal-s-natural-disasters">natural disasters</a>. While earthquakes are natural, the unequal and delayed response is manmade and preventable. Patterns across countries repeat, often due to preventable gaps. One glaring example is the chronic underfunding of Mental Health and Psychosocial Support despite growing recognition that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-an-emergency-nepal-needs-to-improve-trauma-care">trauma constitutes a silent second wave of devastation</a>. In Syria, only 3,000 people received <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14138">psychological first aid</a>, while over 1.5 million were displaced. In Burma, with over 9 million severely affected, most women and girls in areas like Sagaing and Mandalay had no access to<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13680"> mental health services</a>. Healthcare systems also collapsed quickly. Hospitals like Morocco’s Mohammed VI University Hospital treated patients outdoors, and Burma saw around 25 hospitals in Mandalay, 28 in Shan, 22 in Bago and 24 in Naypyitaw damaged or destroyed. While <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificially-intelligent-medicine">mobile medical units</a> have proven effective, reaching 7,870 people in Syria, they remain underused due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon">poor planning </a>and lack of pre-positioned support. Protection risks spiked in both Burma and Syria, where displaced women lacked safe shelters, lighting, or dignity kits. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">Nepal’s own experience in 2015</a> tragically echoes these patterns: mental health issues were sidelined, hospitals in districts like Sindhupalchok and Dolakha were affected, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/educating-your-sons-will-protect-your-daughters">gender-based protection</a> in temporary shelters was grossly inadequate. The lesson from this cross-country analysis is clear: unless countries like Nepal invest in mental health services, mobile health infrastructure, and gender-sensitive protection before disaster strikes, history will continue to repeat itself in harsh ways.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250424070424_d3c38d3935e61e2b4d0c2ec5b8fd67cc5f32b58ada6fb70fe979a12f8133ef1f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_25" data-image-id="20250424070424_d3c38d3935e61e2b4d0c2ec5b8fd67cc5f32b58ada6fb70fe979a12f8133ef1f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1414" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Technology and tectonics"> </figure>  Here is where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a> proves critical. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/finding-your-way-in-nepal?fbclid=IwAR3Ls8S90Qcjv8CYsuZb2QjaFaMKnOar0L2jDiT3D1o7hx8ipoJRrTUbXDI">Data and digital tools</a> can identify trends across borders, strengthen coordination, and improve early response. In Nepal, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/internet-in-everything">digital targeting tools</a> have helped humanitarian responders fine-tune who needs what and where, even in remote or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/civic-appeal-for-stability-and-governance">politically unstable settings</a>. For example, digital tools like Vulnerability Assessment Mapping and KOBO surveys were used after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">Nepal’s 2015 earthquake </a>to identify <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">vulnerable households</a> in hard-to-reach areas of Sindhupalchok and Dolakha, helping responders deliver aid more accurately. These platforms ensure that responses are not only faster and more efficient but also cost-effective, avoiding duplication and ensuring that limited resources go where they are needed most. By collecting and analysing the right kind of data, including field reports, government updates, and third-party insights, the analysis through a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide">digital-first approach</a> can help shape a more inclusive, evidence-based response to disasters. The shift from ad hoc reaction to data-informed action allows us to save time, money, and lives. Ultimately, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/yes-quakes-can-be-forecast">earthquakes will continue to strike</a>, but how we respond can and must change. Tools like DEEP and the use of cross-crisis digital analysis are essential for humanitarian professionals to make smarter decisions, faster. With <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/back-to-classroom-for-earthquake-preparedness">better preparedness </a>plans, integrated <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bhaktapur-2-0-d8m66qhb">community-level responses</a>, and real-time insights, we can transform how governments and aid agencies protect people in moments of crisis. Earthquakes reveal more than seismic cracks: they expose the weaknesses in our humanitarian systems. And with the right tools and mindset, we can start sealing those cracks before the next tremors hit. Ruby Thapaliya is a Humanitarian Data Analyst with a background in public health, currently working at Togglecorp.

Technology and tectonics

I’ve been stalking a man since 2013. Twelve years is a long time to pursue someone. I first saw him at a busy bar in Pokhara, where I was hanging out with my girlfriends. In a space crammed with youngsters, his long, flowing grey beard set him apart. James (Jim) Robinson looked more like a man out of Hogwarts School.
And I knew I had to speak with him!
And that set off many years of wooing, if you may. When I first saw him, I kindled a conversation and I sat next to him for a few minutes. I found out that he had been coming to Nepal since his first visit as a young hippie man.
Did he have a number I could call him at or email? Jim said he didn’t do emails or cell phones.
In December 2016, when I was in Pokhara, I inquired about Jim at the bar he frequents. I left a note with my number on it asking Jim to call. I went back the next day to ask if Jim had received the note. He had. But there was no call.
Looking for Jim in Pokhara had become a ritual-- my friends found my pursuit funny. If I happened to be there in winter, I would show up at the bar, wait, leave a note sometimes. There was no response.
One time, during the pre-Covid era, I met Jim on a green tourist bus heading to Kathmandu from Pokhara. He needed to call a friend in Thamel and I offered him my phone for use and also its number. He pocketed the piece of paper and left it at that.
In 2023, I was at an old bakery in Thamel to meet a girlfriend. I ran into Jim there and introduced myself again, quickly wrote my number down: Can I give you my number?
&nbsp;And no, he didn’t call.
In 2024, I ran into Jim in Pokhara at the Literature Festival. I reminded him of our many half-meetings. This time, I didn’t offer my number. Then he asked me if he could have my number and also said he had also joined Facebook recently and could now keep in touch.
As I wrote down my number and email for him, I told him it was the third time I was giving him my number. I think I set Jim off on a guilt trip, because then he started to email, finally agreeing to meet me.
Last week, we met at the same old bakery in Thamel. The cafe was fragrant with the fumes of hot coffee and the joy of cinnamon rolls wafting through the air. Jim and I found a table at the topmost floor. He said he was willing to do an interview if I was still interested. But I found that the scribe in me had become replaced by something of a quiet listener.
I asked Jim about the many fascinating, expensive gems-studded rings on his fingers. He gave me details about how each of them had come to find a place on his fingers. He also explained to me the journeys of the gems on his necklace. Jim has been collecting the stones since he first showed up in Nepal in 1968 as a 23-year-old.
When the hippie movement made waves in certain parts of the world in the mid-1960s, Kathmandu wasn’t untouched by its ripples. Youth from the west, driven by their quest for freedom, peace and love, showed up in Kathmandu among other places, making Jhochhen (Freak Street) their home. Jim was one of them.
On his way to Nepal from the UK on his first trip, he stopped in Israel where he worked as a tomatoes and cucumber picker and then spent some time in India before arriving in Nepal.
The journey-by-land spanning across weeks, was deliberate and purposeful. As opposed to it, he now takes the flight from the UK every year in December to arrive in Nepal, and goes back at the start of spring. While in Nepal, he spends his time pretty much the same way he did many years ago-- except, instead of smoking up and chilling with fellow hippies, he now drinks beer and hops bars to find the best music.
Jim, like some of us, thrives in solitude. Much of his time in Kathmandu and Pokhara is made up of that. At bars, he speaks with strangers and has a good time swaying to live music.
Why have you been coming back all these years, I ask him and he says: Because I love Nepal!
When he arrived in 1968, he saw Swayambu and was blown away. “I had never seen anything like it! This beautiful temple on the top of a hill!” Jim explains how in no other place in the world, had he seen monuments of different faiths alongside each other. When he saw it in Nepal his mind was blown to never be the same again, he says. He knew he had to keep coming back.
Back in the day, Jim stayed in Freak Street, the hippies’ hub. The amenities were basic but sources of entertainment were accessible there. “The only place you could buy cakes was the Snowman. All other places sold Nepali food. And there was just one souvenir shop that sold khukuri and that kind of stuff.”
Jim says it hasn’t been easy to follow the changes in Kathmandu over the years, but he doesn’t mind the change as much as he minds the way people have turned to technology. He isn’t a fan of cell phones and he doesn’t carry one. But his daughter (who he visits in Canada once a year) has gifted him an iPad so they can stay in touch.
Apart from spending lone time in Nepal, Jim also shops for silver rings, sometimes buying them for himself and sometimes taking some back to the UK to sell them.
His now off-white beard, leaping down his face and his colourful rings flashing around the room as he moves his hands when he speaks, manages to catch the attention of a Chinese tourist seated at a nearby table. Later, as we are leaving the bakery, she catches up and shows a photo of Jim on her phone: Is this you? I took your picture in Pokhara. I love your rings!”
&nbsp;Then she asks: Can I take a picture with you?
Jim says no at first, and then says okay, maybe. As I say goodbye and walk away, I smile knowing he’s no longer denying people the opportunity to interact with him. Perhaps someday, he will eventually spill the story of his life.
Jim turns 80 this month. I had asked him how many more years he intends to keep coming back to Nepal and he said: “Let your life be like a leaf cast upon the ocean. Go with the flow.”
Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people in Pratibha’s life.

Chasing a nomad

During <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-constitution-3-years-later">the Constitution </a>drafting process that took nearly ten years, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/faith-in-tolerance?form=MG0AV3">Nepal’s various ethnicities and religions </a>tried to define their status vis-a-vis the state. They laid down their demands, they struggled, and then forged compacts. When the Constitution was finally promulgated in 2015, these agreements between individual groups and the state were given a rough roadmap. However, the new statute could not address the divisions between various communities and ethnicities. Despite its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/decoding-diversity?fbclid=IwAR3P0GygTCQ7HE-LaaVOhmKSyUDLlIrR2l9VzXKwCFJ8Em7YFHSAOiiXqQE">diversity</a>, Nepal does not have a history of serious sectarian, religious or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-cycles-of-revolution">communal conflict</a>. The Constitution’s preamble accepts pluralism and tolerance. Every group is guaranteed the right to demonstrate its faith as long as it does not infringe on the right of another group. Authoritarianism and democracy are two opposing poles of any political system. They are governed differently, and their internal structures are disparate. Authoritarian systems exist only if the status quo is maintained, while democracies are always in dynamic flux. This is why democracies cannot always guarantee stability, and there will be voices using the very freedoms the system guarantees them to agitate for a dictatorial regime. This can seem contradictory, but in Nepal’s present context they are complementary. The evolution of Nepali society has seen insurgency, interaction and intermingling, and democracy has allowed tolerance of different belief systems.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250418100452_b50e2b40e20769f7c27c4e30b25ccabb369c57b5f5d30b92a67c6fbf5e9daa2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250418100452_b50e2b40e20769f7c27c4e30b25ccabb369c57b5f5d30b92a67c6fbf5e9daa2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="The sociology of social unrest"> </figure>  In the past, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal">the monarchy</a> tried but could not fully address the cultural aspirations of the country’s ethnicities. During the Panchayat, the geopolitical need of the time was to strengthen national unity and identity through a unitary state. Today’s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/republicans-and-royalists-on-nepal-s-streets"> royalists </a>are using the current political disarray and public dissatisfaction to evoke nostalgia for strongman rule. In politics, there can be smoke even without a fire. The ex-king’s project is to terminate the pluralism ensured by this hard-won Constitution. There are indications that reactionaries are trying to fish in troubled waters. In the past four years, Birganj has started marking Hanuman Jayanti in honour of the monkey god of the Ramayana, and it has always been accompanied by tension with adherents of other faiths. Last week, violence flared again during the procession, and the city was shut down with a curfew for two days. Although restrictions have now been lifted, the city is still licking its wounds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250418100456_bf07e5702dcae169ea57b72f7284eac805fa4d7d8dc6f5d6ccd01835bc873463.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250418100456_bf07e5702dcae169ea57b72f7284eac805fa4d7d8dc6f5d6ccd01835bc873463" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="The sociology of social unrest"> </figure>  Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-deja-vu-on-black-friday">Nepal’s déjà vu on Black Friday</a>, Sonia Awale A religious procession has to be sensitive to the neighbourhood it is moving through, it cannot provoke those from other communities who live there. The administration is responsible to ensure that things do not get out of hand. This was obviously not done. There should have been strict guidelines about the route of the procession, a ban on openly carrying weapons of any kind, and against provocative slogans directed at another religious group. These rules should have been pre-agreed and strictly enforced. Another factor that poured oil on the fire was live video reporting on social media of the procession that magnified the agenda of the organisers. Such ‘reporting’ by ‘journalists’ sensationalised the violence and helped spread it with fake videos, disinformation and hate speech. Sharing such content also spurs copycat violence and prevents resolution. There are signs various groups are trying to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/volatile-mix-of-politics-and-religion">mix politics with religion</a> and with extremist rhetoric. There should be forceful and immediate legal action against such elements to nip the unrest in the bud. Local problems need <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/global-crisis-local-solutions">local solutions</a>. Outside interference may complicate attempts to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/protecting-nepals-forests-from-fires">extinguish the fire</a>. The silent majority of citizens do not want violence and turmoil, they want peace and reconciliation. Any political force that tries to exploit the Birganj unrest to further its own narrow interest elsewhere will ultimately reap the whirlwind. Chandrakishore is a Birganj-based political commentator who writes this monthly column BORDERLINES in Nepali Times. @kishore_chandra

The sociology of social unrest

The newly-formed Himalayan Art Council is set to launch Nepal’s National Art Protection Platform that seeks to preserve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">Nepal’s unique cultural heritage </a>using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificial-censorship"> AI-powered tools</a>. The Council seeks to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali art works</a> from neglect, theft and counterfeiting as well as preserve existing artwork and celebrate living masters by giving them a cultural space to continue the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">sacred art traditions</a>. "We are introducing a new digital platform designed to preserve, verify and elevate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal’s art for generations to come,</a>” says a statement from the Council, adding that the digital platform will use AI told for authentication and blockchain to keep track of works of art. Artists can now be protected by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/ayo-ai?fbclid=IwAR1uwmTVq4gUB70ljfRezjzukD9ArWXPuMnUikopeQ8PoiZMjicToPSwhKE&amp;=1">AI tools</a> that detect forgeries, identify their work even when unsigned, and ensure they receive proper recognition and credit. The archives will be searchable with translated inscription and interactive guides. Says curator Meena Lama: “AI and blockchains are tools that give us the power to detect fakes and identify unsigned paintings and track every piece. With these tools we can restore trust, secure authorship and give artists the dignity they deserve.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum."> <figcaption>Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  The Council is also holding an exhibition of Nepali cultural masterpieces with 50 historical <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671">thangka and paubha </a>by past masters and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">contemporary works by current artists</a>. This curated collection is a living tribute to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">Himalayan culture</a> with economic depictions of deities, mandala and sacred narratives. The exhibition at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present">Patan Museum</a> also provides an opportunity to meet painters and custodians of art and culture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">Golden deities</a>, Sewa Bhattarai ‘The exhibition is only the first step in a long journey to ensure that Nepali art is no just seen but fully understood, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Narratives-of-Faith-and-Memory-Remembering-the-Lost-Sculptures-of-Kathmandu-exhibition,987">protected and remembered</a>,’ the Council says. Artist Kailash K Shrestha of Artudio has spent decades promoting thankha and paubha traditions because of their beauty and devotional meaning. But he also says artists are underpaid, exploited and ignored. He adds, “AI and blockchain are not just buzzwords, they are powerful tools that can protect Nepal’s artists from fraud, verify authenticity and build a permanent record of provenance.” Traditional Art Exhibition Till 17 May Patan Museum

Digital protection for Nepal’s art

India and Pakistan are twins separated at birth. Tensions between them have been at a hair trigger ever since independence and has erupted into full scale conflict at least four times in the past 80 years.
The 22 April terrorist attack in Kashmir that killed 25 Indian tourists and a Nepali citizen, threatens to escalate tension between the two nuclear-armed nations. India has squarely blamed Pakistan for the attacks, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi has given his military “operational freedom” to respond. Pakistan has said it has credible intelligence of an Indian military strike and its officials have promised a “full spectrum” response — a code for a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/thinking-the-thinkable">nuclear retaliation</a>.
For Nepal, the killing of its national in the Pahalgam attack comes as another stark reminder that in conflicts from Afghanistan to Iraq, from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-agree-an-armistice-in-ukraine">Ukraine</a> to Israel, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/10-nepalis-from-one-town-fighting-in-ukraine">Nepalis are getting caught in the crossfire</a>. The last time full-scale fighting broke out between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/peacemongers-at-india-pakistan-border">India and Pakistan</a> on Kargil in 1999, at least 22<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-trial-by-fire-for-soldiers-from-nepal?%27%5C%22="> Nepalis fighting for the Indian Army</a> were killed in action.
Three of Nepal’s immediate neighbours (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not have good relations. With China supplying weapons, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/war-and-warming">missile technology</a> and other support to Pakistan, this triangular friction could set off a regional conflagration.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> has calculated that even a week-long tactical nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would throw up so much smoke and debris into the atmosphere that it would block out the sun for years, and lead to a collapse of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grow-nourish-sustain-together-world-food-day">global food system</a>. This does not take into account the radioactive fallout that prevailing winds would blow up to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">the Himalaya</a>, contaminating glaciers that are the sources of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">Asia’s main rivers</a>.
The impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>on High Asia was already ringing alarm bells about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">shrinking ice cap</a> reducing the dry season flow of water downstream. Water was going to be the next strategic commodity, geopolitical experts warned, and the next wars in Asia would be over water.
That water war is already happening. India retaliated to the Kashmir attack by suspending the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/24/world/asia/india-pakistan-indus-waters-treaty.html" target="_blank">Indus Waters Treaty</a> of 1960 mediated by the World Bank that has withstood at least three wars between India and Pakistan. The treaty gives India control over the three eastern tributaries of the Indus (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beas_River" target="_blank">Beas</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_River" target="_blank">Ravi</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sutlej" target="_blank">Sutlej</a>), while Pakistan got water from the Indus and two of its western tributaries (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indus_River" target="_blank">Indus</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chenab_River" target="_blank">Chenab</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jhelum_River" target="_blank">Jhelum</a>.
Pakistan was assured of 70% of the annual flow, and India could use a reasonable amount of water for<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15231"> irrigation and hydropower</a>. &nbsp;Within days of its threat, India stopped water flowing down to Pakistan from the Chenab river and is reportedly preparing to do the same on the Jhelum.
The sabre-rattling has reached a crescendo. Besides threats and counter-threats there are also symbolic drills, with the Indian Air Force practicing landing on an expressway in Uttar Pradesh by its Rafale, Su-30 and Jaguar fighter jets to demonstrate ‘operational readiness’. In response Pakistan test-fired its Abdali ballistic missile that can carry a nuclear warhead and has a range of 450km.&nbsp;
The danger is that with ultra-nationalist rhetoric and the beating the war drums by both sides, India’s government and Pakistan’s military may have to ‘do something’ to appease domestic public opinion. But any tactical strike, an artillery exchange, or territorial incursion could quickly escalate out of control.
Expecting an Indian retaliation for the Pahalgam killings, Pakistan is using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/interfaith-collaboration-for-nuclear-disarmament"> nuclear deterrence </a>and warning of “catastrophic consequences”. The two neighbours came close to a nuclear exchange in 2019 after an attack on the Indian military in Kashmir, and prompt international intervention led by the United States cooled tensions.&nbsp;
This time, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">Trump administration</a> is too distracted and not as engaged. Pakistan has denied it was responsible for the terrorist attack and called on Washington to stop a possible Indian retaliation. India and Pakistan have stopped overflights by each other’s airlines, and some international carriers have even stopped flying over Pakistan fearing an air war.
Washington, Beijing, the UN and the EU have all urged restraint. Iran, which has good relations with both India and Pakistan has sent its foreign minister to urge both countries not to go into a tit-for-tat war. Iran has its own nuclear flashpoint to worry about with tensions in Israel, &nbsp;Yemen and Syria.
India and Pakistan both share similar problems of joblessness, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-s-poverty-rate-is-stuck">poverty </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-change-new-threat-to-nepal-s-rhinos">environmental threats</a>. Neither side needs the threat of a senseless war, and we in the neighbourhood do not need it either.&nbsp;
Kunda Dixit
This Editorial is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

Nukes in the neighbourhood

Most Nepalis thought they had seen the last of it after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/11-56-25-april-2015-wkc9q2an">the 25 April 7.8 magnitude </a>earthquake ten years ago. But the Himalaya had more surprises in store. On 12 May, another 7.3 magnitude tremor that some said was an aftershock, but was strong enough to itself be a major earthquake, struck Dolakha.&nbsp; Not many people had heard of Singati till then — a cluster of houses by the Tama Kosi River along a narrow gorge that is the roadhead to Rolwaling Valley.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  It was here that dozens were killed on 25 April in the first earthquake. Hundreds of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati-rising-from-rubble-rebuilding,3703">Singati survivors</a> had lined up for food and relief supplies in the morning of 12 May when the second earthquake triggered a rock slide that buried a nearby camp. At least 50 people were killed. &nbsp; Three hours later, a US Marine Corps UH-1Y Venom helicopter landed in a nearby cornfield to pick up the wounded, and flew off. The aircraft lost contact with air traffic control in Kathmandu and its wreckage was located high on Kalinchok four days later. Six American servicemen, two Nepal Army soldiers, and five wounded civilians from Singati were killed. Today, Singati bears little physical scar of the multiple tragedies that struck the town ten years ago. Most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">houses have been rebuilt</a> as urban-style concrete structures, and Singati has become an economic hub on the road leading up to several hydropower plants and a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal"> popular trekking destination</a>.&nbsp; The town looks less like a village and more like a suburb of the Dolakha district headquarter of Charikot, 47km away.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  “The demand for construction material, cement, iron rods and bricks peaked after the earthquakes,” says Suresh Khadka, who owns a hardware business here and now supplies material to the 456MW Upper Tama Kosi hydropower project that is undergoing repairs after it was damaged by a landslide last year. The demand for cement boomed since most residents believe, not necessarily correctly, that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">cement houses are safer</a>. Although Khadka did well selling construction material after the earthquake, he worries that most new structures do not follow seismic-resistant building codes.&nbsp; The construction boom financed by bank loans has in turn forced many from Singati to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">migrate overseas for work</a> so they can service their debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Suresh Khadka</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Phu Doma Sherpa (right)</figcaption> </figure>  “My family had no choice but to borrow money to rebuild our home since the government compensation was not enough, and ten years later we are still paying off the loan,” says Phu Doma Sherpa, 60. Because of the shortage of qualified masons and proper seismic engineering, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">many of the buildings are of questionable building standards </a>and the traditional architecture has been abandoned, admits Kul Bahadur Budathoki, deputy chair of the municipality. “But these buildings were more expensive than what the government grants could cover, many people here are heavily in debt and the men have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/every-day-is-closer-to-pay-day">migrated to the Gulf to pay their loans</a>,” Budathoki says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1079" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Kul Bahadur Budathoki</figcaption> </figure>  Singati is in a multi-hazard zone. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati,3091">12 May 2015 earthquake </a>could have led to the collapse of Nepal’s largest glacial lake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/stairway-to-heaven">Tso Rolpa</a>, upstream. Due to global warming, the glacier has turned into an expanding lake 3.5km long, and its collapse would have unleashed a catastrophic Himalayan tsunami down the Tama Kosi Valley, with Singati directly in its path. Singati has literally risen from the ashes of 2015, with its residents beginning to recover from the trauma and financial toll. But it is not out of danger as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>magnifies the risk from future earthquakes.

Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village

The streets of Patan are alive this month with lavender jacaranda trees under rain-washed skies as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the chariot of Rato Matsyendranath</a> is pulled across town. This is the festival of the rain god, and inevitably the heavens opened up and pre-monsoon showers pelted the chariot as it started being pulled in Pulchok last week. Thousands of devotees, onlookers and the chariot procession organisers thronged the streets on the first day last week. The rhythmic cymbals and drums exuded a vibrant energy as the enormous four wheels turned and the chariot lurched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  The<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141"> red rain god</a> has Hindu and Buddhist antecedents, alternatively called Bungadya and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival"> Karunamaya</a> — reflecting Kathmandu Valley’s syncretic mixture of the two religions.&nbsp; “Bungadya is a profoundly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/marketing-the-intangible">intangible form of heritage</a>,” explains heritage expert Monalisa Maharjan. “It embodies traditional knowledge,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reviving-nepal-s-craft"> artisanal skills passed down through generations</a>. Local communities and specific families have specified roles in being custodians of the heritage, ensuring their survival over the centuries.” There are many legends and stories about this annual tradition. Lichhavi king Narendra Dev is supposed to have brought Rato Matsyendranath from Assam to Kathmandu Valley to convince Guru Gorakhnath to lift a spell that created a two-year drought in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Matsyendranath was Gorakhnath’s mentor, and upon seeing him, the serpents were released, unleashing the rains. The chariot festival honours the return of this life-giving rain. The deity is seen as an icon for thriving agriculture, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">he arrival of monsoon</a> showers, and the welfare of the community. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">The reign of the god of rain</a>, Vidhu Prakash Kayastha Till this day, the Rato Matsyendranath festival is no ordinary celebration. Patan does not sleep for a month as the chariot is pulled through various neighbourhoods. It unfolds at a state level with the president (formerly the king) attending the climax of the Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel later this month.&nbsp; The intergenerational transmission of tradition is unique in the world, and the reason the festival is one of the most vibrant cultural expressions that thrives despite inroads of modernity. The other unique aspect is that it is a transnational festival, binding Patan with Guwahati in the Indian state of Assam.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  “Unlike Nepal, where the deity commands grandeur and devotion, many in Assam are unaware of Rato Matsyendranath,” says Khagen Sharma of Gauhati University, which convened <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">a symposium in February in Guwahati on the rain god</a>. Attending was a delegation led by Lalitpur Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan, organisers of the festival, and builders of the chariot. After the symposium, a committee was formed to explore and revive the tradition in Assam as well. Although the team had planned to visit Nepal this month, logistical challenges delayed the trip. Still, there are plans to build a Guru Matsyendranath statue in Assam to reestablish regular worship practices in the Guwahati shrine.&nbsp; The vines used to build the chariot in Patan are sourced from the jungles of Assam. But Sharma notes that in recent years unclear regulations have blocked the official import of the vines, although they are still brought to Nepal informally. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">chariot making</a> has also had a taste of modernisation in recent times. In the past, even a single nail or piece of steel was avoided. But over time, the wooden structure, particularly the shaft between the wheels, has been replaced with bronze. When that too proved unstable, metal clamps were introduced, which have become a pragmatic compromise.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Another welcome change is the focus on safety. Builders climbing the chariot’s tower now wear harnesses and there are efforts in crowd control. The most visible change in recent years has been the involvement of Patan’s enthusiastic youth in the festival — the tradition is now passing to a new generation. Says Matsyendranath expert Vidhu Kayastha: “There is more energy, the young people in red t-shirts this year were very organised, these modern touches aren’t diluting our culture, they’re keeping it alive in new forms.” He adds, “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">reconnecting with our roots</a>, we have more resources, more awareness than ever before. We must not be swept away by western values that may not serve us, and in some ways, cause more harm than good. We must revive our own culture.”&nbsp;