The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">first Nepal Premier League (NPL)</a> is over. Off the pitch, the tournament offers lessons.
Except for murmurs that the financial story may not have been pristine, the main message is that there is no substitute for professional excellence to ensure success. Whether as a team or as an individual, the trick is to strive to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/take-me-out-to-the-ball-game">perform one’s best</a> at all times.&nbsp;
A player has to be completely invested in the game: day and night, even in their dream about how to improve performance. Even players who do not quite make the mark, move on to another profession and excel there.
The cricket team is no place for players who cannot collaborate, commit to teamwork and prove themselves. Now, compare this ethos to the rigid जागिरखाने mentality of most of Nepal’s teachers, professors, doctors, engineers, managers, government officials, politicians.&nbsp;
Surely, there are a few in all these professions committed to excellence. Maybe 5% in all? OK, stretch that to 10% perhaps. But no more. The proportion among cricketers, on the other hand, has to be 100%.
What is the cost of such mediocrity to households, communities and country? High schools keep incompetent teachers on life-long tenure, not to prepare students for life.&nbsp;
There can be no sense of personal worth in the modern world, nor social and national progress, without the dharma of doing one’s best. Striving for excellence in our karma is our dharma.&nbsp;
Expertise and high productivity is gained through engaged and agentic experience. Seniority is not a good criterion either of current performance nor potential productivity.&nbsp;
Engaged and productive work experience is also what really counts in cricket. Don’t rest on your laurels, as they say.
This is a useful philosophy, especially for government officials. Bureaucrats and politicians have to earn expertise through long years of service in a sector. They must not be shunted from one ministry to another.
Civil servants are not ‘servants’ of political parties. Public administration in a modern democratic polity is based on expertise and professional competence, not a top-down हुकुमी शासान.&nbsp;
It is like cricket batsmen and wicket keepers rarely if ever become celebrated bowlers and vice versa. Indeed, a fast bowler rarely if ever serves leg spin. Even fielding positions are set for a long period such that a player acquires expertise at a particular slot, like the slip fielder or outfielder.&nbsp;
Even the best cricket players are hired series-to-series and not on permanent or even annual contracts. Public sector employees should similarly be hired on a periodic, not life-long, basis. Performance assessments must be both frequent and transparent.
The point is to optimise individual and team output. The cricket player is not being paid on a salaried जागिरे basis. They are paid as long as they perform, and the best performers in a team are paid more than others.
We have too many poorly-paid public officials. Those of the same rank ought to be paid differentially based on the assessment of their work. Incremental salary grades ought not to be based solely on seniority.&nbsp;
Performance is time-sensitive. An old SLC certificate is not worth the paper it is typed on. People and performances change. The division someone got in SLC long ago cannot be a measure of expected performance.&nbsp;
Excellence is spread out evenly across social groups, including marginalised ones. Virtue and high performance are not inherited through caste, gender, regional or class affiliation.&nbsp;
Excellence can be partially shuttered and pushed to the realm of potential for some time by means of power, but it cannot be closed off for long.&nbsp;
NPL players came from all directions, locations, colours, faiths, castes and ethnic groups. That holds true for both the national women’s and men’s cricket teams as well.&nbsp;
Notwithstanding some social media posts that showed &nbsp;racism lurks just beneath the surface in Nepali society after the victory of the Janakpur Bolts, the inclusiveness in all teams helped in national cohesion.
Those who are ‘up the ladder’ in Nepali society today must realise that they are there temporarily. Being up is a consequence of a specific historical, political, economic and cultural rather than a permanent, natural, god given order, or individual attribute.&nbsp;
An individual who is ‘up’ is there largely if not wholly because of membership in specific groups such as a ‘high’ caste, or a ‘higher’ ethnic, gender, or domicile bracket. Conceit about being ‘up’ is wholly unwarranted.
In cricket, a team that is up in the league tables can be down in the next tournament. Similarly, in society it may be wise for groups or individuals that are ‘up’ to be pro-change rather than be the status quo.
This is the only democratic way ahead, the only one that promises the greatest collective and longer run individual gain.
There are many in Nepal today who find refuge in exclusion, in abusing and trolling those who are different from us in colour, location of residence, language.&nbsp;
There was plenty of that on display during and after the Janakpur Bolt win over Sudurpaschim Royals last week. It was encouraging to see far more Nepalis who celebrated their victory and cancelled the hate.
Either as individuals or countries, we are not islands. Most of us possess much too keen a sense of nationalism. This could be partly because we live between two large, populous and emerging global powers. Most countries, not just small ones, exhibit bloated nationalism.
But international collaboration and competition is fundamental for success in the modern globalised world. This holds true for countries, their cricket or football teams, and for individual players.
Marquee players in the eight NPL teams were from different countries. They collaborated in the larger interest of the sport as well as their own careers, but much less for their own countries.&nbsp;
Players in teams were from different countries and different parts of Nepal, yet worked together. Each player came to appreciate other players, audiences and people from other countries. They were not bigoted nationalists.&nbsp;
Hopefully, a tiny seed of tolerance and विशव बन्धुत्व was planted at the NPL and it will germinate in future. In workplaces, schools, universities, and government we can also benefit from working with professional high-quality international workers.&nbsp;
There is an immense possibility to learn and grow from such collaboration, a condition sorely lacking in Nepal. It is as if most of us have made up our mind that it is unnecessary or even unpatriotic to learn from countries and people which are ahead of us.
The cricket lesson can apply to our insular education, too. Nepal’s universities can learn from institutions across the world, but we do not even make it easy to get visas for professors, academics and researchers to come here.&nbsp;
Indeed, we do not even encourage universities to seek services from board members of universities in other countries. No citizen of another country can serve in our university boards. It is illegal even for a Nepali citizen who has received a work permit to work in universities in other countries to become a member of the university board here. This is narrow nationalism run amok.
Citizenship is one of the most crucial markers of the modern nation state. All states value citizenship, but it should not become a marker for international apartheid.&nbsp;
Citizenship is not the be all and end all of our identity, belonging, distinctiveness, professional performance and self-worth. Non-citizens may be barred only from voting, top decision-making positions, and the military. All other professions should be open, just as it was for the NPL.&nbsp;

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Opinion

Nepal’s NPL lessons

The past, the present, and the future are really one: they are today. -Harriet Beecher Stowe  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1241"> </figure>

Miss Motivation

The past, the present, and the future are really one

Australia has just banned children under the age of 16 from using social media. The move has met with some criticism, particularly from companies like Meta (which owns Facebook and Instagram) and TikTok, which will face fines of up to $32 million if they fail to keep young people off their platforms. But Australia’s new policy represents a critical step toward protecting children in the 21st century.
All societies – and the states that serve them – have a responsibility to protect their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/addicted-to-the-joystick">children from harmful addictions</a>. And addiction is exactly what social-media companies are trying to cultivate. As Facebook’s founding president, Sean Parker, revealed in 2017, the process of building the platform was guided by a simple question: “How do we consume as much of users’ time and conscious attention as possible?” The answer these firms reached lay in “exploiting a vulnerability in human psychology”: the desire for social validation.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/avoiding-the-quicksand-of-social-media">Avoiding the quicksand of social media</a>
Essentially, Parker explained, social-media platforms were designed to deliver hits of dopamine – a neurotransmitter that plays a role in addiction – through socially-validating likes, comments, views, and shares. The more people engage with the platform, the more dopamine hits they receive. The result is a “social-validation feedback loop” that keeps users hooked. “God only knows what it’s doing to our children’s brains,” the regretful Parker lamented.
Chamath Palihapitiya – another former <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/facebook-nation">Facebook</a> executive whose “tremendous guilt” spurred him to speak out against social media – has an idea. “You don’t realize it,” he told an audience at Stanford in 2017, “but you are being programmed.” Deciding how and how much to use social media is tantamount to deciding how much “intellectual independence” one is “willing to give up.”
But many users – particularly children – are not equipped to make informed or healthy choices about social media, not least owing to those addictive feedback loops. According to the World Health Organisation’s Regional Office for Europe, problematic social-media use – characterised by addiction-like symptoms, such as an inability to control usage and feelings of withdrawal when not using – has risen sharply among adolescents, from 7% of users in 2018 to 11% in 2022. In the United States, the average teenager spends 4.8 hours per day on social media.
These figures imply serious risks. Adolescents who spend more than three hours per day on social media are twice as likely as their peers to experience <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-all-in-the-mind">anxiety and depression</a>. Social-media use is also associated with low self-esteem, bullying, and poor academic performance. Evidence suggests that social media has been a key contributor to the uptick in suicide rates among US teens over the last decade.
The WHO has called for “immediate and sustained action to help adolescents turn the tide on potentially damaging social-media use.” Even young people themselves are sounding the alarm. In early November, the youth parliament of the canton of Lucerne, Switzerland, petitioned the Cantonal Council of Lucerne to strengthen protections of social-media users – not least “addiction prevention” – through “targeted awareness-raising among parents and the public.”
Have children ever before petitioned adults to protect them from addictive habits? When rules on access to tobacco were debated, did young people step up to demand that their parents be informed of the risks of letting their children smoke? The fact that social media is sparking such requests shows just how acute the harm is.
The consequences of social media extend beyond children. According to Palihapitiya, the “short-term, dopamine-driven feedback loops” these companies have created are “destroying how society works” by propagating misinformation and “mistruth.” As Parker put it, social media “literally changes your relationship with society, with each other.” This is not mere speculation: social media has proven to be a “polarization engine” and a powerful tool for inciting violence.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-social-media-contagion">The social media contagion</a>
Parker knew he was working to cultivate addiction, and so did Facebook Founder Mark Zuckerberg, Instagram Co-Founder Kevin Systrom, and others like them. According to Palihapitiya, while he and his colleagues told themselves nothing bad would happen, they knew “in the back of their minds” that it would. But the rewards were apparently too great to give up: the more addicted people were to their platforms, the more user data their firms could collect, and the more money they would make selling highly targeted and personalised ads.
The idea that social-media companies would police themselves was always wishful thinking: these firms’ business models are built on violating basic rights. That is why all countries that are serious about fulfilling their responsibility to protect their people – and the international community at large – must work together to build and enforce a new regulatory framework for these platforms. The first step is to follow Australia’s lead and raise age limits on their use. &nbsp;© Project Syndicate
Peter G. Kirchschläger, Professor of Ethics and Director of the Institute of Social Ethics at the University of Lucerne, is a visiting professor at &nbsp;ETH Zurich.

Protecting children from anti-social media

Before the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trumpet-call">US presidential election </a>last month, my 17-year-old daughter asked, “Who do you think will win? How will it affect the world?” Just as I was about to respond, she jumped in with her own insights.&nbsp;
“I don’t believe American economic and foreign policies will change much, but the global perception of the US election will shift,” and she continued, “if Kamala wins, she’ll be the first woman president and the first woman of colour to hold that office. On the other hand, if Trump wins, it could hurt American’s pride.”
My follow-up question led to a new word that I was about to be introduced to in my life-long quest to master the English language: ‘felony’. She said: “How can Americans take pride in having a president with a felony conviction?”
I nodded vaguely, trying to figure out what ‘felony’ meant. What has Trump done now? My daughter simplified it for me, and explained that he has been convicted of numerous criminal offenses.&nbsp;
Since that conversation, the word ‘felony’ has popped up often both online and in my conversations with people. Does some human algorithm also exist, that has a way of figuring out what you are talking about?
My daughter has become my most steadfast English language teacher. And the best thing is, I do not have to pay her. And I do not have to feel embarrassed about asking questions. It helps that she is incredibly patient with me, and is usually available whenever I need her help.&nbsp;
She has also worked hard to help me improve my unusual pronunciation of the word ‘available’ which for some reason I could never say properly. She attended an English medium school from a young age, and this helped her to learn the language naturally.&nbsp;
Back when she was in Grade 1, she asked me why I seemed uncomfortable speaking English. Had I struggled in school, or had I failed English? As she grew older, she realised that in Nepal there are two distinct educational paths: one in which students struggle to speak and read in English, and another in which they face similar challenges with Nepali.
Sometimes, my daughter takes advantage of my unfamiliarity with certain words. A few Dasains ago, we went out for lunch together. She had a full pocket of cash, and when the bill arrived, she suggested we either split it or “go Dutch”.&nbsp;
I wasn’t sure what Holland had to do with it, so I opted to split the bill. She had ordered more items than I did, and in the end, I ended up paying more than my fair share. After we settled the bill, she explained what “going Dutch” meant. I knew the concept, but did not know how it was referred to in English. I still joke that she took linguistic advantage of me.
It is not just the English language, my daughter has been instrumental in helping me grasp the global discourse on sexuality. She encouraged me to approach the topic with curiosity instead of judgment, especially when I do not know enough about the subject. It was through her insights that I learned about the evolution of the term “gay” which originally described a sense of carefree joy and happiness before it came <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10644">to signify homosexuality</a>, particularly among men.
Together, we explore new words that have entered the language and their context, deepening my understanding. She continually shares the latest Gen Z slang like IDK, fr, sus, and iykyk, etc. Sometimes I ask her for clarification, and other times I google them before responding.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/angrezi/english-is-not-the-be-all-and-end-all">English is not the be-all and end-all</a>
During a conversation about my friends, she candidly told me that I was being “salty”. At​ first, I struggled to understand, thinking it had to do with my feelings being hurt. Noticing​ my confusion, she took the time to explain that I was upset over trivial matters, which I​ really shouldn’t be.
I had heard the Argentinian football legend Lionel Messi was referred to as ‘the GOAT’ and often wondered why. He is such an incredible player and always so kind in public. So, whenever I heard or saw the term GOAT, I would picture an actual goat in my mind.&nbsp;
During one of our casual conversations, I asked my daughter why people refer to Messi as a goat, is it because he is so incredibly agile? At first, she burst out laughing, but then she explained that the acronym meant ‘greatest of all time’. Nowadays, whenever Messi is playing my daughter points to the monitor, and explaims: “Look, Ama, Messi the goat.”
My daughter has become like a life coach, teaching me English while offering straightforward life lessons and helping keep me grounded. When she showed curiosity about my English abilities, we both agreed to help each other grow and my daughter has truly embraced that commitment with heartfelt sincerity and love.&nbsp;

Angrezi

Lionel Messi the goat

I will not follow where the path may lead, but I will go where there is no path, and I will leave a trail. - Muriel Strode  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241221131240_5fc7f14d8eb59f8eb306952069b0dbe9897608ef1ea790fde0bf71604ab12489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241221131240_5fc7f14d8eb59f8eb306952069b0dbe9897608ef1ea790fde0bf71604ab12489" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1240"> </figure>

I will not follow where the path may lead

His name is Jay. But we called him ‘Artist’. Artist could draw from his imagination. He has had no formal training, and is from the Musahar community here in Mahottari district.&nbsp; “Ever since I was in Grade 5, I started dabbling with art and got better at it,” he told us. “My friends used to request me to draw for them which encouraged me further.” He was part of an initiative aimed at making ethical recruitment accessible to the most marginalised communities who face significant barriers to migration. Prior to departure in September 2024, he would stand in the middle of the orientation class, doodling unperturbed while two dozen pairs of eyes watched him. Perhaps he did not sense others watching him because his passion transported him to a different world. Or maybe he knew he was good at his craft, and the others were admiring his work.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241218021240_f61ded2bf6953334d24bc5c196791c520056c2f1f0858c9529234e1dbf7485c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241218021240_f61ded2bf6953334d24bc5c196791c520056c2f1f0858c9529234e1dbf7485c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1164" loading="lazy" alt="Migration is development NT 1"> </figure>  Upon our request to fit the theme for the day he doodled an airport scene. But when left to his own devices, his natural inclination was to draw portraits of Hindu gods and goddesses (pictured, above). His wife told us he was the go-to person for people in his village when they wanted divine portraits on their walls, doors, vehicles and curtains. Artist told us, “I have not made art on my wall yet because I don’t have a good house. Once I build a good house with my overseas earnings, I will draw portraits of Shankar Bhagwan and Krishna on my wall.” With that, he left for Malaysia. And 15 months after his departure, we visited Artist’s family in Mahottari (pictured, below). His house is being renovated, and by the time he returns it will be ready for his portraits.&nbsp; His mother beamed proudly, “I had told my son that as long as I lived, I would do everything to ensure his education was not interrupted. I made sure he passed his Grade 12 and learnt how to use a computer. Now he tells me not to do any work.”&nbsp; They have paid off almost all their piled up loans of Rs500,000. Listening to her made me wonder what other intervention would have helped a family like hers pay off their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/migrating-with-the-music-of-nepal">outstanding loans</a>, renovate the house and invest in better education and nutrition within 15 months.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241218021240_276c057beab24acaae02dc21f11354a82aa0ff8a99672d227bda07508da43687.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241218021240_276c057beab24acaae02dc21f11354a82aa0ff8a99672d227bda07508da43687" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Migration is development NT 1"> </figure>  Other Musahar families say that equally vital benefits of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/fee-free-migration-is-possible">fee-free migration</a> in their case include being able to pay off outstanding loans, covering a niece’s one-month hospitalisation bills, savings, meeting household expenses, purchasing medicines, and funding children’s education. The way a large crowd had gathered to see workers off shows how migration is as much about the families as it is about them.&nbsp; To be sure, migration is not a utopia, remittance is not a silver bullet. Factory work is not easy, and overtime hours are not always guaranteed. Living away from home has its downsides. Missed milestones such as childbirth can be painful. Not everyone passes job interviews for ethical migration drives, which are few to begin with. Not everyone stays for the duration of their contract. Based on our conversations with the Musahar youth, had they not migrated they would likely be engaged in low-paying seasonal jobs in India, day labour in brick kilns, or working in others’ agricultural fields, or possibly be unemployed.&nbsp; If they did beat the odds to migrate overseas via traditional models, the challenges are well known: everyone would have taken loans at exorbitant interest rates, which could take months or even years to repay. Any goals they had would have to be delayed. Even then, there would be risks of contract violations.&nbsp; The ethical recruitment agency, International Manpower Recruitment, responsible for this drive had to retrieve passports of some of its candidates from fraudulent brokers who had been sitting on them for months.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241218021248_d28202b446a34fb6f7c7bd061c505e7e26f2e4b761cd524e7d9d498fece04634.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241218021248_d28202b446a34fb6f7c7bd061c505e7e26f2e4b761cd524e7d9d498fece04634" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Migration is development NT 1"> <figcaption>A campaign by International Manpower Recruitment to bypass brokers.</figcaption> </figure>  Some workers told us they did not even have access to informal loans at high interest rates. Aside from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-survivors-migrate-for-work">zero upfront costs</a>, it is transparency in responsible recruitment drives that is refreshing: workers get the job and benefits as per the contract. And while this may seem like a low bar, that is what workers really want but don’t always get. The way migration is being carried out now, it is a risky enterprise and almost like a lottery. Aspirants must navigate a second ‘lottery’ beyond the birthplace lottery, which drives many to seek opportunities unavailable in their place of origin: migration, with its uncertain, unpredictable and even arbitrary outcomes given malpractices and irresponsible actors. We have interviewed cleaners and factory workers who went for identical jobs – some for free, while the majority paid between Rs150,000-350,000. To try to make sense of this randomness is a futile exercise. But any migration related intervention that can contribute in addressing the unknowns to make migration outcomes predictable would go a long way for workers and their families who are often entangled in the haphazard mess it often is. On International Migrants Day 18 December, we should reflect on how our public narrative around migration should separate fraudulent migration practices from the notion that migration itself is inherently a problem. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/not-just-financial-but-social-remittances">Good migration can be powerful</a>, and must be made accessible to the poorest, most marginalised. Schemes to connect someone like Artist with the Japanese Specified Skilled Worker (SSW) or Korean Employment Permit System (EPS) programs that have higher barriers of access like language testing requirements, would make the rewards of migrating even higher than what he is making in Malaysia.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241218021248_80012868901594b28ae8fbcf36f16c8011cce527348cab3b88d7c52cba670ad3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241218021248_80012868901594b28ae8fbcf36f16c8011cce527348cab3b88d7c52cba670ad3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1119" loading="lazy" alt="Migration is development NT 1"> <figcaption>Crowd to see off Mushar candidates.</figcaption> </figure>  It will be like how Musahar youth are finding migration to Malaysia significantly more rewarding than their previous gigs in India. After all, gains of migration are relative, and merits attention from bilateral aid agencies of important host countries for Nepali like JICA and KOICA which invest in anti-poverty programs in Nepal. Migration is development. Malaysia-based Artist, from Nepal’s Musahar community, personifies the theme, ‘talent is everywhere, opportunities are not’ and that good migration can be an equaliser of opportunities.&nbsp; Sometimes, all people need is a platform, a nudge, and an opportunity. Good labour migration can be one such option, alongside domestic priorities like social protection and job creation. Artist will soon return to his renovated house ready for him to draw portraits of gods and goddesses.&nbsp; And soon, he will be able to start the painting business for signboards and vehicle art that he said he has always dreamed of but could not pursue due to a lack of capital. &nbsp; Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is her fortnightly column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Migration is development

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

Why Nepal is stuck

The war continues unabated. There is no end in sight. Can we hope that Donald Trump will find a personal connection to Vladimir Putin to end this war? The phone call on 15 November between German Chancellor Olaf Scholz and Putin – the first telephone contact in two years – was sobering because Putin only reaffirmed his already known positions: He is ready for negotiations, but only on his terms. In other words, recognition of the "new territorial realities" and "consideration of Russian security interests".&nbsp;
In concrete terms, this would mean the handover of the four regions in eastern Ukraine, parts of which are occupied by Russia, and Crimea. Scholz called for negotiations with the aim of a "just and lasting peace", which is primarily aimed at the withdrawal of Russian troops.
The Russian attack and Ukrainian defence have turned into a war of exhaustion, with current military advantages for Russia. The Russian strategy can be described as an escalation with the hope of a military victory.&nbsp;
So far, Ukraine and its supporters have reacted with intense resistance. Western support has escalated with the delivery of more effective weapons and belief that victory is still possible. But increasingly a certain fatigue can be felt among them and Trump has made it clear that the massive support will no longer come from the USA.
What is the consequence for the Ukraine war, and what is the alternative to this battle with more and more deaths? Negotiations now? Is there a chance for peace without military victory? But neither side is ready yet for serious negotiations. Ukrainian President Volodymir Zelensky was not happy about Scholz's initiative and spoke of a policy of appeasement, also because the call counteracts Putin's international isolation.
The American political scientist William Zartman speaks of the necessary "ripeness" of a conflict as a prerequisite for the success of negotiations. The concept of “ripe moments” centres, according to Zartman, on the adversaries’ perceptions of “hurting stalemates”. The willingness to negotiate increases when both sides realise that a military victory is not possible and that the military potential, i.e. soldiers and weapons, is no longer sufficient.&nbsp;
The depressing conclusion is that today, even after almost 1,000 days of war, this situation does not exist in Russia or Ukraine. But the increasing logistical bottlenecks on both sides, the irreplaceable, irrecoverable and permanent losses are perhaps an indication that the conflict is in a process of maturing for negotiations. Even Russia, with its present territorial advances, seems not able to replace its casualties. The arrival of about 10,000 North Korean troops in Russia raises the question of whether the Kremlin can make up for its enormous losses.
Different scenarios
Four scenarios are conceivable, all of which are far from an ideal solution.
First, it is not inconceivable that the war, which has now lasted almost three years, with all its destruction and loss of life, will continue for another few years without an end in sight.
Second, Donald Trump could actually strike a deal with Vladimir Putin, presumably at the expense of Ukraine. Trump believes in deals. Russia would receive the parts of Ukraine it occupies, a demilitarized zone would be established along this border within Ukraine, Ukraine would receive security guarantees (from NATO, the United Nations, or a grouping of neutral states), and a peace treaty would be postponed until later. And “later” could mean decades without a peace treaty.
Third, one side could win militarily. Unlikely, but not completely out of the question. The Kremlin firmly believes in this possibility and is assured by its territorial gains in recent weeks. At the same time, the Russian leadership underestimated Ukraine's will to resist at the beginning of the full invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 and then had to significantly limit its war goals, the overthrow of the government in Kyiv and the integration of Ukraine into the Russian Federation.
The fourth scenario, a ceasefire and a frozen conflict. There are a number of conflicts that are in this state of having no real solution. In recent years, the situation in Korea has been referred to several times in order to consider a similar solution to the Ukraine war. This scenario is perhaps the most likely.
Ceasefire and a frozen conflict: The Korean solution
Of course, every conflict is different, and the respective conditions also differ. Nevertheless, there might be both conflict patterns and patterns of conflict resolution that could provide clues to Ukraine's future.&nbsp;
Sergey Radchenko, a historian at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies in the US, pointed out parallels to the Korean War in an op-ed in the New York Times after a year of the Ukraine war. More than 70 years ago, in July 1953, an armistice agreement and the establishment of a demilitarized zone led to the freezing of this war and the division of Korea into two separate states.
Recently, Joseph S. Nye, one of the most influential political scientists in the USA, pointed to a "Korean solution" in an article entitled “What Would Victory in Ukraine Look Like?” He writes: “If Ukraine defines victory as the return of all land that Russia has occupied since 2014, victory is not in sight. But if it aims to maintain its independence as a prosperous democracy linked to Europe, while reserving its right to the ultimate return of its territory, victory remains possible.”&nbsp;
The Korean War also swayed back and forth from 1950 to 1953. Like what is happening now in Ukraine, neither the north nor the south, nor their respective supporters, were prepared to end the war quickly because of hopes of a military victory. The Korean armistice agreement of July 1953 stipulated the status quo ante with the division of the country at the 38th parallel.&nbsp;
Korea is still a divided country, and the conflict is a frozen one. A peace treaty was never concluded and the so-called demilitarised zone along the border between the two states is one of the most militarised borders in the world. A permanent ceasefire was reached without a peace agreement.
Proponents of a "Korean solution" point out that the destruction and loss of life has ended, and that South Korea has now become a resilient democracy and emerging economic power. Democratic development and integration in Western Europe could then follow in the same way in Ukraine.
Critics of such a solution describe the Korean ceasefire as a "non-solution". The Swiss historian Roland Popp, who researches at the Military Academy of the University ETH Zurich, writes that this Korean solution "also covers four decades of one of the most brutal dictatorships in the world, massacres of tens of thousands of civilians ... or the assassination of the president by the director of the South Korean CIA in 1979." And he points to the immense costs and uncertainties for Western Europe.
In 1953, a Neutral Nations Supervisory Commission was set up in Korea. In the more than seven decades of the existence of the armistice agreement there have been numerous military skirmishes on the border. North Korea's nuclear weapons program is a threat, just as the North calls the South Korean military with its ally the United States a threat.&nbsp;
Precisely for this reason, it is remarkable that this agreement has prevented a new war with heavy losses for more than seven decades. The consequences of a Korean solution for the situation in Europe would probably also mean, as in the case of the Korean peninsula, arms races as during the early days of the Cold War
Neutral states could also play an important role in ending the Ukraine war: for example, India, South Africa, Brazil or Switzerland. If neither side makes significant gains in Ukraine, a ceasefire would not be impossible. Presumably, the Ukrainians would not regain all the territories occupied by Russia. Russia could interpret the abandonment of its actual goal as a partial victory in order to save face. The conflict would be frozen. Not a nice result, but still the end of the war.&nbsp;
A frozen conflict is better than a hot war. But the history of frozen wars shows that they can turn into hot wars again at any time. In the case of Ukraine, the imposition of an unfair solution could possibly result in Ukrainian partisan resistance.
A possible fifth scenario, a peace agreement that is binding under international law, with an agreement between Russia and Ukraine, currently seems to be completely out of the question.
Herbert Wulf is a Professor of International Relations and former Director of the Bonn International Center for Conflict Studies (BICC) where is presently is a Senior Fellow. He serves on the Scientific Council of Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI).
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/is-the-time-ripe-for-an-end-to-the-ukraine-war.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Is the time ripe for an end to the Ukraine war?

The bilateral relationship between India and Bangladesh must be based on a win-win policy, rooted in mutual respect, non-hegemony, and the pursuit of shared prosperity and deeper understanding. 
For India, there have always been only two neighbours: China and Pakistan. The rest of us smaller South Asian countries are geographic entities to be praised, cajoled, reprimanded and even punished as the situation calls for.
Sheikh Hasina's last tenure in power (2009-2024) appears to have been a ‘praise’ period. However, after the student-led people's uprising toppled her regime in August, a powerful section of the Indian media has shifted into the ‘reprimand’ mode, with some even suggesting ‘punishment’. Much of the social media discourse seems to support this.
Oppression of minorities anywhere in the world, including in my own country, must be condemned and speedily resolved. It should never recur. Communal conflict has been an age-old phenomenon in South Asia following the British colonial policy of divide and rule. 
It is a regrettable fact that, after 77 years of the departure of the British, we have still not been able to solve it.
After the regime change in Bangladesh, the Indian media's coverage of events can, in my view, be categorised as follows: 
<ol><li>The events that toppled Sheikh Hasina was the work of Pakistan's ISI, the Islamists in Bangladesh, or pro-Chinese elements all aimed to replace the ‘India-friendly’ government with an ‘unfriendly’ one. There is no mention of the role of common people or of the students, of the killing of ordinary people. What is the source of all these assertions? </li><li>The new government in Dhaka is bent on persecuting Hindus and even committing ‘genocide’. Many of these stories were debunked by fact-checkers, including the BBC. But that did not stop or even slow down the tirade of stories demonising Bangladesh.</li><li>The US involvement was also referred to and linked with the events in Pakistan in toppling Imran Khan. So, the US toppled Sheikh Hasina.</li></ol>
Even three months later, there has been no substantial coverage of the atrocities inflicted on students and civilians. The Sheikh Hasina government even resorted to firing on demonstrators using helicopters.
In a prompt action, the interim government fast-tracked the issuance of visas for journalists. However, Indian journalists who visited Bangladesh focused solely on the attacks on Hindus, ignoring the broader human rights abuses by the Hasina government. 
The Indian media’s coverage of the July-August uprising in Bangladesh was also striking in its one-sidedness.
The Indian media largely ignored the massive student-led people's movement, which saw millions take to the streets of cities across the country. Their focus remained almost exclusively on the sporadic violence against Hindus during the power vacuum in the first week of the transition.
The firing on unarmed demonstrators, resulting in at least 700 deaths by 5 August, was barely covered. This was one of the most barbaric crackdowns in the recent history of South Asia, yet the Indian media gave it little attention. 
In the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEoyTkOZ8xE&amp;t=588s">six interviews I gave</a> to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bDJgVVBDLg">mainstream Indian outlets</a>, there was almost <a href="http://www.telegraphindia.com/world/sheikh-hasina-had-turned-very-dictatorial-mahfuz-anam-on-bangladesh-regime-change/cid/2038904">no mention</a> of the scale of <a href="http://www.theweek.in/theweek/cover/2024/08/07/the-daily-star-journalist-mahfuz-anam-interview-bangladesh-protests-political-crisis.html">the uprising</a> or the civilian deaths, only the vandalism of symbols like Bangabandhu's statue or the burning of government properties.
Even three months later, there has been no substantial coverage of the atrocities inflicted on students and civilians. The Indian media's coverage appears to be driven by the isolated attacks against Hindus of Bangladesh, rather than the people of Bangladesh. India should not see the recent events through the lens of Sheikh Hasina but through the lens of democracy.
In a recent video broadcast by the Indian news portal ThePrint, Meenakshi Lekhi, a BJP leader and lawyer, said, ‘The chief adviser… is seeking to rename the nation [Bangladesh] to be [the] Islamic republic of East Pakistan.’ 
Where did she get that from? Her column was filled with distortions and misinformation. When recounting Sheikh Hasina's rule, she omitted critical facts like the rigging of the 2014, 2018 and 2024 general elections, which were at the core of voters' outrage with her regime.
At The Daily Star, we studied 56 news items appearing in the Indian media between 9 July-20 November. Except for a handful, most could be categorised as ‘views reports’ and not ‘news reports’. They had headlines like: ‘To avoid election Yunus is using the excuse of reforms’, ‘Politics of revenge – 13 including ministers on trial’, ‘Will democracy at all return to Bangladesh?’, ‘China, ISI behind escalation of student-led protests in Bangladesh’, ‘ISI conspiracy to topple Sk. Hasina and established anti-India govt’, among others. 
Some TV news even called it an ‘Islamist takeover’. There were hardly any attempts to take a serious look at the events in Bangladesh.
If we analyse the sourcing of the news, the presentation, the headlines, and the language used in reporting, it becomes clear that it was directed at creating an impression that Hindus were not safe in Bangladesh to generate deep hatred in the Indian population.
The mindset of the Indian media and also that of a section of political leadership is dominated by a fundamental disrespect for our intellectual ability, and Islamophobia.
Indian media coverage clearly implies that we, as a people, are incapable of determining our future. It is the Pakistanis, Chinese or the Americans (not to name the Indians, which they do not of course mention) that must tell us what to do. 
This mindset is insulting to a nation that has fought against Pakistani cultural, economic and military oppression, and that has defeated them in an armed struggle with Indian help. 
It is insulting to a people who have dismantled dictatorships and who have now toppled what appeared to be an invincible regime of Sheikh Hasina. This mindset shows the disdain of the Indian media towards Bangladeshis. One political leader even compared us with termites.
The Indian media has a total misunderstanding of the deep roots of Islam in Muslim Bangladeshi psyche. People going to mosques, wearing Islamic headgear, keeping beards, using Islamic salutations, or referring to the Quran as a part of daily life are portrayed as extremists and terrorists.
If the revival and strengthening of Hindu religious practices, building more temples, enshrining Hindu cultural traits, and becoming more practising Hindus are part of the present-day Indian ethos, then why should we, the Bangladeshis, becoming more Muslim make us extremists? 
If mass-based groups like the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, the Bajrang Dal, and the RSS can propagate the Hindu religion, and if a political party like the BJP, whose aim is to establish Hindutva in India, can get elected three times, then why does the reappearance of Islamic groups make us a ‘fundamentalist’ country?
The Indian media and leadership must dig deep into the cultural and religious heritage of Muslim Bengal, and try to embrace us as we are, rather than define us as they would like us to be. 
We must accept what the Indian people decide is the India they want. Just as India must accept what the people of Bangladesh decide we are. 
That is the only way a durable Bangladesh-India relationship can be built. The lesson for India is that regime-based relationships must be replaced by people-based relationships. 
For that to happen, we must understand each other better, with sincerity and respect.
Mahfuz Anam is the editor and publisher of The Daily Star. Reprinted with permission.

How the media shapes Bangladesh-India ties

Detachment doesn't mean you own nothing, it means nothing owns you. - Bhagavad Gita  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214031240_0830b5e8ba4d47c07530cf6ce131f0a41e41df61847739298436580a4ca42ef9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214031240_0830b5e8ba4d47c07530cf6ce131f0a41e41df61847739298436580a4ca42ef9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1239"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Detachment doesn't mean you own nothing, it means nothing owns you

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.