Emotions are an indispensable part of being human, but in the world of social media networks and the virtual world of augmented reality and AI, people are more connected digitally than they are in their real lives. This creates an emotional distance. The exhibition Antardrishti (Inner Vision) at <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/" target="_blank">The Kalā Salon</a> &nbsp;at the Chhaya Centre in Thames attempts to bridge that widening gap. It encourages visitors to pause, reflect and better understand themselves and their identity. Artist <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sangeeshrestha/" target="_blank">Sangee Shrestha</a>, draws viewers into her own creative world of drawings and paintings on canvases with ample use of red, black, blue, white, grey and green. Each of them features an open or closed eye, signifying the real world and not the make believe one on an Android phone. &nbsp; “One eye is closed so as to push away negative thoughts and bad omens. The other eye is open and drawn wide so as to keep our vision wide and be vigilant,” explains Shrestha, an multiple award-winning artist who has been churning out powerful works since 1993.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_2392a19f19d11d7abb90b1e880d1935c8c78e816a8636f6cf1ecf2e7409b7aa9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026040113044_2392a19f19d11d7abb90b1e880d1935c8c78e816a8636f6cf1ecf2e7409b7aa9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3546" height="2130" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Geometric figures are an important aspect of her work, and Shrestha uses them to draw various parts of the human anatomy and adornments. Hand gestures hold special significance and meaning in art which has such a spiritual aura that even viewing them feels like an act of devotion. Shrestha refrains from giving a title or a name to her works, and explains: “I deliberately put up my works without a title so that viewers can interpret my creations in their own way,” she adds. Antardrishti is a labour of love that took two years. The show also includes ceramic masks, pots and Shrestha feels that working with clay is therapeutic not just for the artist but for viewers. Each figurine radiates positivity while also offering us a glimpse of the mind that guided the fingers that shaped these forms. Curator Sophia L Pande says as much: “For this exhibition, Sangee Shrestha set herself a challenge to create multiple sets of art that complement each other in theme and vision.” One of the highlights of the exhibition is a 100m long drawing of Egyptian gods and figures from mythical folklore that Shrestha made during one of her visits to Egypt. &nbsp;“What I found interesting is that the Egyptian gods and their stories are also similar to those of our own gods and goddesses,” says Shrestha.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_ade8452161b3831e1eacf3f489c7d3ae9d5899a93958d0b24f77e1d726dd2168.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026040113044_ade8452161b3831e1eacf3f489c7d3ae9d5899a93958d0b24f77e1d726dd2168" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2866" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  The death of her mother three years ago changed the trajectory and content of her work, transforming the way she looked at the world and its transience. She was not confident about her own creative process anymore and started a journey to find her own identity and started pouring her thoughts into canvases While many of her works during this phase featured red, black and other dark colours, one was that of white butterflies flying out from a box, symbolising freedom and inner peace. And somehow they all force us to contemplate impermanence. The focal point of the exhibition is a series of devi goddesses as four separate artworks in a composite in grey, black and a dash of yellow. The use of dull colours signifies the clouds of thoughts, Shrestha says.&nbsp; The painting also includes three stages of a flower in a single branch: the bud, a half-open blossom and a flower with fully unfurled petals. “They depict different stages of human life -- childhood, youth and old age,” explains Shrestha. Also on exhibit are sculptures on metal pieces which reflect spirituality and religion. Climate change is another theme depicted in the melting of the Himalaya. Shrestha tells us: “I wanted my creations to be seen as more than just aesthetically pleasing. But to impart the message to make the best of what as we live our lives.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040113044_6e38db8d89ae52ea47be66560c1ef6900e00b1196afa2a50c440aa9b534959e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026040113044_6e38db8d89ae52ea47be66560c1ef6900e00b1196afa2a50c440aa9b534959e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3139" height="2324" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Antardrishti by Sangee Shrestha <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/" target="_blank">The Kalā Salon</a>,&nbsp; Chhaya Center, Thamel Until 11 April 11 am-5pm

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Review

Artist explores her inner self

Along with the Sherpa community, it is perhaps Kathmandu Valley’s Newāh Civilization that has been the most studied by anthropologists, architects, historians and social scientists.&nbsp; Tomes have been written about the built environment of the Valley’s former kingdoms, the influence of Indian culture, and how it in turn inspired the temples, monasteries and monuments in Tibet, through China right up to Korea and Japan. Lately, there has also been an attempt to recognise and preserve not just the brick and mortar landscape of Kathmandu, but also the intangible heritage of the Newāh people. A critical component of the ancient festivals in the streets, alleys and baha of the inner cities are ritual plays and dance. Gérard Toffin is a social anthropologist with the Centre d’Etudes Himalayennes at the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) in France, and has been researching in the region since the early 1970s, focusing on Newāh society and especially its Jyapu farmers. Lately, his work has focused on indigenous theatrical performances, and how they are evolving with modern influences.&nbsp; RECORDING RITUALS The result of his study is this hefty ethnographic book, Newar Theatrical Performances: Religious, Royal and Comic Aspects, delving into sacred performances. This is the first-ever detailed documentation of the minutest aspects of traditional plays and holy ceremonies of Kathmandu Valley. This book is not for the package tourist on a quick walkabout of Patan, the details and terminology can be daunting even for natives to navigate. But this is what social science research is supposed to do – take a deep dive into cultures that we take for granted either because we are a part of it, or because we have never bothered to find out its meaning.&nbsp; Dance forms with mythological themes, masked processions, gestures, facial expressions of the performers, have all been passed down from one generation to the next, adhering to age-old codes. The world is moving at an accelerated pace because of TikTok-induced globalised connectivity, but traditional gender or caste dynamics and hierarchies are carried over intact in many of these performances. It is as if traditional theatre itself is a time capsule giving us a peep into the past. Some of the performances and dance are in danger of going extinct as the population ages and the young migrate out. However, there has been a cultural renaissance among the Newāh guthi overseeing these ritual plays, dances, or chariot processions. The next generation of apprentices are being trained. This pride in heritage means that Kathmandu Valley civilization is not as endangered as it may appear.&nbsp; Gérard Toffin’s book is an important ethnographic work that will help preserve the Nepal Valley’s unique blend of urban-rural, cosmopolitan-agricultural, Hindu-Buddhist, indigenous-national. The Tantric choreography of Newāh theatre, just as the kama sutra depictions on erotic temple art, show Indian influence, but Toffin says they have been ‘Newarized’.&nbsp; One example is the sexually-explicit shadow play staged every year since 1690 CE by Jhyalcha Guthi in Patan that exposes the infidelity of King Yog Narendra Malla. Toffin devotes a whole last section of his book to irreverent plays (khyalah) that ridiculed the rich and powerful, the royals and upper castes and their shenanigans.&nbsp; He examines the importance of comic relief at a time when death was ever-present in historic Kathmandu with its frequent epidemics. One cholera outbreak in 1885 is estimated to have killed 10,000 people – a fifth of Kathmandu’s population at the time.&nbsp; The Saparu festival in Kathmandu and Mataya in Patan memorialised through street processions those who had died the previous year – and this was institutionalised into Gai Jatra by King Pratap Malla in the 17th century to console his queen after their second son was killed by an elephant. Families were asked to file past the palace to show the queen that she was not the only one grieving.&nbsp; Pratap Malla also allowed clowns, burlesque plays, and satirists to make the queen laugh. The Rana and Shah regimes which suppressed free speech continued the Gai Jatra tradition to allow citizens to let off steam. Rulers were lampooned, and the performances involved scatological jokes, cross-dressing and lewd acts.&nbsp; Interestingly, the Nepal Bhasa word ‘pyakha’ means both ‘dance’ and ‘theatre’ (today also ‘cinema’, as Toffin notes) and so the performances were also a combination of ritual dance, traditional music and a stage play. Stories involve gods, goddesses and mythological characters, and are passed down through generations of performers. (See adjoining article on Pāhāñ Charey.) Street performances by masked dancers, like in the ‘Katti Pyakha’ in Patan, enact divine themes. The moving deities demand as much reverence as their static idols in the inner sanctum of temples. The book devotes a whole section to the importance of cultic masked dances where the performer is possessed by the spirit, and goes into a trembling trance.&nbsp; Some of this is now simplified and secularised into performances for tourists in hotels, but the genuine original masked dance troupes still parade down the streets, proving that ancient and modern are made to co-evolve in ways that only Kathmandu knows how.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260329140352_aace3ece2e2cc577aa478d83de4b34930e6ff9c088d5f5e3f02fa178d124a60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Newa theatre book details NT"> </figure>

Kunda Dixit

All the world’s a stage in Kathmandu

The sense of sight is front, centre, and everywhere else as hundreds of eyes follow visitors while they move from one painting to the next at Nikhil Bahadur Shakya’s ongoing exhibition at Siddhartha Art Gallery. Shakya has used blank canvases as well as partially-done thangka and paintings as a base for more than 50 works on display. The exhibit takes visitors beyond the physical world into a surreal spiritual realm. Shakya strips the human body down to muscle, tendon, networks of nerves, and skeleton. But all the while, eyes are a constant presence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_dddbfedc57433dc528fbf032642abea4ee67e63875091b06a7804cecdc7716cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031708034_dddbfedc57433dc528fbf032642abea4ee67e63875091b06a7804cecdc7716cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Nikhil Bahadur Shakya"> <figcaption>Artist Nikhil Bahadur Shakya with a visitor.</figcaption> </figure>  The central theme is self-reflection and the journey from one’s outward to inward self, and the works offer a glimpse into the artist’s world of mindfulness.&nbsp; Shakya grew up watching his artisan grandfather design jewellery, which he says cultivated in him an interest for art. During the Covid-19 pandemic, confronted by the fragility of life and the stark reality of death, his art took an introspective turn. The paintings have splashes of neon yellow, pink, red, orange, green, and gold, and Shakya combines them with black and white to create the human body, sunflowers, geometrical shapes, and the cosmos — turning these motifs into elements of devotion and spirituality. In Wheel of Life, Shakya adds to an incomplete thangka, contrasting traditional Buddhist devotional imagery with contemporary mosaic art to create a demon holding on to a wheel with a yin and yang symbol.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_f2a8e10c73aa83a67e5de06a3f0acff9aa35c1cda278b36fed76ed03e71a7014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026031708034_f2a8e10c73aa83a67e5de06a3f0acff9aa35c1cda278b36fed76ed03e71a7014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nikhil Bahadur Shakya"> <figcaption>Wheel of Life (centre)</figcaption> </figure>  “I wanted to reflect the elements of life and the balance of good and bad in this painting,” explains Shakya. “I took a lot of time to complete this particular piece, but it felt as though my vision flowed out of the brush onto the canvas.” The neon colours used means that visitors can see his artwork under blue light as well, giving viewers a chance to look at a single artwork from two different perspectives. His Sunflower series draws from a field of blossoms, and the eyes stare back at visitors in an almost-hypnotic gaze. In An Ancestral Visit, Shakya goes transcendental to depict the connection of living beings to their forebears.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708038_0fbe465b3af872d04f699030ba093d97aad182221730aef535dbf7d059fb57cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026031708038_0fbe465b3af872d04f699030ba093d97aad182221730aef535dbf7d059fb57cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1431" loading="lazy" alt="sunflower painting"> </figure>  “In my father’s last days, he was unwell and often unable to eat, it left his body very frail,” explains Shakya. “An Ancestral Visit was inspired by a dream in which I saw my father as his former healthy self. That dream made me feel deeply connected to my ancestors.” In another one of his works titled Devotion, a woman prays to a Shivalinga against a background of red-and-white stripes, which was inspired by the tradition of women being at the forefront during religious and spiritual ceremonies.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708038_75e30a4fd339257fbc108e3a326f732fd33d25af0428add0d305b8b7824c558c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031708038_75e30a4fd339257fbc108e3a326f732fd33d25af0428add0d305b8b7824c558c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="devotion"> <figcaption>Devotion</figcaption> </figure>  In Sunyata, which shows a skeletal figure meditating as they are surrounded by flames, Shakya captures the chaos of the outside world with peace of the inner self. Shakya was compelled to create Sunyata when he saw a monk, his body thin and face gaunt, meditating peacefully. “Many viewers might find the painting frightening, but when they take it home, I think it will give them strength whenever they feel like they need it,” says Shakya. The exhibit also includes a gigantic painting of Masan Bhairav spread across two canvases, capturing the majesty of the original work housed at Banepa’s Chandeswori Temple. Shakya met the artist who painted it, and asked to reproduce it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_0216eac587827b02982f5addbd67c6f852fd7f9f47b477267ea7430d5f862a9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026031708034_0216eac587827b02982f5addbd67c6f852fd7f9f47b477267ea7430d5f862a9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1030" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Geometric figures are another recurring motif on Shakya’s creations, which he says were inspired by mathematics textbooks from his school days. He says, “Art channels the strength of our minds and brings about change in our lives. My paintings reflect the fact that we are all made up of some madness, magic, and love.” Journey to a Visionary Artworld by Nikhil Bahadur Shakya Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Till 6 April 11AM-5PM

In the mind's eye

I was a new mother trying to protect my young family from Covid in 2020, and that was when I first noticed Jacinda Ardern’s leadership. Our own prime minister was spreading misinformation about the strong immune system of Nepalis and our herbal concoctions being antidotes.&nbsp; Later in 2024, Ardern showed up after the mass shooting at mosques in New Zealand with tears in her eyes, and the strong message: “They are us.” It was refreshing to see such empathetic leadership, especially as political news was dominated by elected authoritarians, while Nepal was held hostage by repeat prime ministers.&nbsp; Ardern’s book A Different Kind of Leadership should be essential reading for all Nepalis with political aspirations, especially the new generation that wants real change. The theme that repeats throughout the book is to be human before becoming a politician.&nbsp; The book is not just about Ardern showing up for her people as one of them, it is also about why she decided to show up the way she did, and what brought her to politics to begin with — resolve, a little bit of luck, and stepping up when she had to.&nbsp; Political ambition is not a bad thing. But stepping up to lead when the situation demands it, and knowing when it is time to leave, is what makes a leader. Ardern was given the opportunity to become her party’s deputy leader at a relatively young age, and her party leader resigned — two events uncommon in Nepali politics. Ardern mentions multiple times not thinking of herself as politician material because she has a thin skin, and she talks equally often of her feelings of being intimidated in political spaces, up until she accepted the position of party leader.&nbsp; But she was accountable at a time when we in Nepal were getting used to non-reactions and non-answers from the loud, confident men who played with power. Somehow, somewhere, not least because of the malestream ideas we have been fed about politics and politicians, we imagine that leadership should look a certain way. Strong, macho, loud, confident or even better, overconfident. We imagine that empathetic leadership is soft, is scared to make people angry, is ineffective.&nbsp; LOOKING AFTER PEOPLE Ardern’s leadership was effective. New Zealand had less Covid fatalities than most developed countries, and it went in and out of lockdown with relative ease. Ardern’s approval ratings were high at a very unstable time in politics globally. A significant portion of the chapters that talk about Ardern’s time in office also delve into her struggles being a working mother. But she does not consider herself a supermom who did it all. She portrays herself as simply a working mom, one with lots of support, and discusses how common it is for parents, especially mothers, to juggle work and family. She comes across as one of us. There is a section in the book where Ardern’s daughter asks her the question she has been dreading, and which many of us working moms also face, “Mummy, why do you have to work so much?” Ardern explains that she has a “very important job” and explains it to her three-and-half-year-old as “looking after people”.&nbsp; I put down the book when I reached that sentence. I want the next prime minister of my country to read this book, and then lead. I want the next prime minister of Nepal to think that he (all the top contenders for the job are men, page 9) is looking after people, making sure no Nepali child is undernourished, that people can make a living without risking their lives, hearing the concerns of citizens and solving them.&nbsp; I want him to lead like a woman, like Sushila Karki has been leading for the last six months, with quiet determination and integrity, and without fanfare. I want him to remember that leadership is just service, and that, like Maya Angelou wrote, ‘Your legacy is what you do every day.’ It is not loud speeches and the making of some imagined, glorified history. Karki was picked to lead us back during the black days of early September when the country was in flames. The very first video of her on 9 September, the day after young people and students had been shot by the government that was meant to protect them shows her angry and emotional, her voice shaking.&nbsp; It was Karki’s actions in those days of fragility that showed us, once again, that the leader we deserve gets emotional on our behalf, but also knows how to do the work. After five years of leading her country through a global pandemic, Ardern realised that she is exhausted, that she does not have enough in her anymore to keep leading New Zealand, and she steps down.&nbsp; Towards the end of the book, Ardern tells readers like herself, sensitive and self-doubting, that if we want to be leaders, we should channel our anxieties and sensitivities to humble ourselves, to read more and seek out advice, and prepare ourselves for the challenges. Nepal’s next prime minister has to have these qualities: humility, teamwork, diligence and accountability. Good intention, ambition, university degrees, professional achievements are not enough to change the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; And when they have completed the task, or when they know they cannot do it they must have the courage to step down like Jacinda Ardern.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260308010340_b1c2a873eb640e3f10ab912c368dc9271f12f60d600bf8d5db5d2c13422a317c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Jacinda book details"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Ending Nepal’s malestream politics

If you did not watch the understated movie उनको स्विटर / (The Woolen Sweater) after it was released in May last year, you missed a major turning point in Nepali cinema. Much-hyped films fall short of expectations, but here is an exquisitely acted and directed production with a strong underlying message of tolerance. What a contrast from formulaic melodramatic Kollywood fare — a love story so simple, cinematography so subtle in capturing the beauty of the monsoon on mountain pastures, and a background folk song accompaniment that evokes the flavour and tenor of multi-ethnic eastern Nepal. Since its release, Unko Sweater received praise in Nepal, but it was in multiplexes across Nepaliphone India where the movie became a rage. Positive reviews spread by word of mouth on social media, where the script, performance and camera work were praised for reflecting a genuine and unsullied rural Nepal. The movie is a layered portrayal of caste, ethnicity, gender and culture with the tender romance between the shy Dharanidhar Kafle (Bipin Karki) and Phool Gurung (Miruna Magar) in which the two, despite being soulmates, have to deal with societal norms and gossip. They do this without rebelling, in their own quiet way. In the first scene in a crowded jeep, people are seen discussing an election. An elderly greying Kafle is headed home, and the rest of the movie has back and forth flashbacks revealing the story of his unspoken affection for Phool. But there is an undercurrent of ethnic rigidity. When Kafle’s brother Dambar elopes with Iksha Limbu, the repercussions are borne by both families. Then Kafle’s uncle is banished for being an outcast.&nbsp; Miruna Magar as Phool, as an ebullient woman, is in contrast to the introverted Kafle, who does not say much but has a melodious singing voice. As the plot thickens, Kafle is shown to be bound by circumstances that pose obstacles to his love for Phool. The storyline delicately shows how life and situations constantly force people to shift direction. Despite underlying differences, the various castes and ethnicities in this fictitious village near the Sikkim border get along because they have to. There is an interdependence between highland farmers and other ethnicities living down the valley that is at the heart of Nepal’s ethnic harmony. Despite taboos about interethnic and intercaste relationships, people still have trust and faith amongst each other. There is no time reference to the story, but it does speak of a nostalgic era decades ago when rural Nepal was not yet connected by roads and phones, when people had no choice but to get along. Things have changed now with outmigration, and education has blurred ethnic lines. A QUIET LOVE Director Nabin Chauhan is not in your face with his message, giving viewers a hint of deep rooted traditional values that still govern society. Each character adds to the storyline, validating the way they behave, pushing the plot forward.&nbsp; There are many emotions that are intricately woven into the plot, and the most prominent, of course, is love. Not the showy, lustful way it is shown in flamboyant formula films, but a quiet bond that does not need words, a silence, a glance and a gesture conveying the universe of love. When Phool asks Kafle what he will do if they cannot be together, he says he will build her a house with a beautiful garden of flowers in the meadows where he herds livestock. He builds it awaiting her return, while Phool knits him a sweater, the symbol of their interwoven love. In screenings of the film in Nepal and India, there has not been a dry eye in the audience. The background score and music by Kobid Bazra and the powerful rendition by Jhuma Limbu of the ‘Kafle’ strike a strong chord. The cinematography by Chintan Rajbhandari does not glamourise Nepal’s rural landscape, it is shown in its raw misty beauty as a constant backdrop. The viewer is uplifted by the notion that love transcends social restrictions and orthodoxies.&nbsp; The ending is left deliberately unfinished, possibly to make way for a sequel which we can only hope will be as compelling as उनको स्विटर. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260301060348_42480e8b6934c9a5c518c44c2970748b341bbbf290c2b303b6aa6359d883567b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260301060348_42480e8b6934c9a5c518c44c2970748b341bbbf290c2b303b6aa6359d883567b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="560" loading="lazy" alt="Unko Sweater"> </figure>  उनको स्विटर / (The Woolen Sweater) Artmandu Nepal, 2025 Directed by Nabin Chauhan 145 minutes Available now on YouTube <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lCgtmgiII7M?si=MirwKOwKmxE3jLS6" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

Now for something completely different

After his critically acclaimed 2023 book of essays सुन्यताको मुल्य on the state of women and children in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-karnali">Karnali</a>, paediatrician and writer Nawaraj KC has come out with a next one, Swasparsh. The new book is almost a sequel to the first one, with real-life stories drawn from his medical practice and social engagement. Both are powerful accounts of suffering, resilience, and the search for human dignity in Nepal’s most remote and underserved districts. The book opens with deeply disturbing yet real incidents of the suicide of a Grade 2 student. A &nbsp;frantic mother rushes in with a son who had already written a suicide note but was saved at the last moment. There is a desperate call from a young woman threatening to jump into the Karnali River.&nbsp; We meet children carrying immense trauma: a toddler who refuses to eat after losing her mother, and another child who stops speaking after experiencing sexual abuse within the family. The emotional climax comes when KC himself falls into depression after being violently attacked by a drug addict patient, leaving him with a serious head injury.&nbsp; But this is not a book of only sad stories of deprivation and poverty. It is how people who find themselves in the worst circumstances struggle to overcome what life has thrown their way, and triumph in the end. By just surviving against all odds, people emerge stronger, often with a renewed commitment to helping others. As a paediatrician working out of his native Surkhet in Karnali Province, KC's work brings him face-to-face with the human side of what a centralised government’s neglect and apathy can do to communities in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-dasain-in-kalikot">Nepal’s most far-flung region</a>. KC shows empathy not just to human beings in trouble, but also animals and underlines the importance of coexisting with the natural world. By helping others individuals ultimately help themselves. Although a paediatrician by profession, KC demonstrates a deep understanding of structural oppression, gender discrimination, caste hierarchy, class inequality, and regional marginalisation within the Nepali state.&nbsp; He also captures moments of tenderness, such as young couples supporting one another through hardship. How poverty can drive families to take heartbreaking decisions — like a patient forced to discontinue life-saving medicine in order to qualify for disability allowances needed to repay debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260217030252_ffd67815063cffe51a0310f10405a554f6094ba05564993f34086fe4b31543f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1646" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  A former teacher is forced to beg despite receiving treatment, exposing the failure of conventional development models that ignore sustainable livelihoods.&nbsp; Then there are inspirational stories like the one of Mandire, who ran away at age 12 to work as a labourer in India, suffered severe burns while unloading coal, and lost a hand. Despite this, his infectious smile and fortitude transformed him into a local symbol of hope both in India and Nepal.&nbsp; Even in old age, he is always smiling and helping others less fortunate.&nbsp; Through Mandire’s story, KC explores the science of the healing power of a smile, the positive psychology of a ‘mental gymnasium’ in which optimism is cultivated through conscious practice.&nbsp; For example, a young girl from the historically marginalised Badi community which faces deep social exclusion refuses to accept her circumstances, and grows into an advocate for other disadvantaged children. A devoted foster mother dedicates her life to raising orphans, empowering them despite her own hardships. One of the book’s strengths lies in its accessibility. In Nepali language, KC blends science, philosophy, and lived experience into everyday language that resonates with villagers and ordinary readers. He comes across not only as a doctor and healer, but also as a teacher, nature lover, and social activist. He tries to introduce greenery to a remote school, and how this transformed children’s learning experience. He reflects that his patients are his greatest teachers helping to expand knowledge beyond medicine and technology into the realms of humanity and ethics. I read Swasparsh after witnessing the recent GenZ movement. The book’s recurring calls to youth, appearing at the end of several chapters, has special relevance today. KC reminds young readers that hardship is part of everyday life, but within struggle lies the potential for healing and growth.&nbsp; He encourages self-reflection, self-healing, and cultivating a positive mindset. Above all, he asserts that humanity’s greatest gift is its own human capacity henceforth solutions to all problems lie within oneselves rather than outside forces. The GenZ movement represents an urban youth revolt against traditional political parties and state institutions that have failed to deliver opportunities and accountability. Rising unemployment, widespread corruption, and frustration with stagnant governance have fuelled demands for new political alternatives.&nbsp; With the 5 March election less than three weeks away, many young people hope that new forces will be capable of bringing systemic change. Yet whether these forces can truly meet their aspirations remains uncertain. Established political actors are reluctant to relinquish power, while emerging groups often lack organisational depth and historical experience. In many ways, these new political actors resemble the people of Karnali: resource-poor, And in the periphery of power, yet rich in commitment and determination. Drawing from Buddhist teachings that recognise suffering, understanding its causes, and seeking pathways to overcome it, KC indirectly inspires today’s youth. Every problem contains the seeds of its own solution, provided we learn to know ourselves, care for ourselves, and care for others. Ultimately, the title Swasparsh means self-healing, self-reflection, and self-confidence. At a time of political uncertainty and generational change, this book speaks directly to Nepal’s younger and the emerging alternative forces — reminding them that transformation begins from within.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026021704020_1d2a855730bc14acbea596cce7b3a00b20f85c79c3a7d8ca46274a15eb642f59" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Swasparsha"> </figure>  Hisila Yami served as CA member, Minister of Physical Planning &amp; Works, Minister of Tourism &amp; Minister of Land Reform. At present, she is a member of Central Political Council in Pragatishil Loktantrik Party and is a lecturer in IOE Pulchok.

Essays on self-realisation and self-healing

One aspect of colonial cartography of South Asia leaps out in this must-see exhibition – while the coastline of India, Ceylon, Burma are extraordinarily accurate in maps made more than 200 years ago, the Himalayan hinterland is wholly approximate and inexact. The accuracy improves as modern survey techniques are introduced by atlas-makers, but even then formidable terrain and forbidden lands thwart precision. Map aficionados will be fascinated by the 40 antique maps from The Rajbhandari Collection on display at the exhibition ‘Imaging South Asia: Nepal in the Making at Kathmandu Art Gallery’ at Baber Mahal Revisited from 13 February - 17 March.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_0cbeb88674a97c6292e2b43b2135df219257ca641cbd4723e9aabf5541c2b258.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260211090252_0cbeb88674a97c6292e2b43b2135df219257ca641cbd4723e9aabf5541c2b258" data-rendition-name="original" width="4160" height="3485" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  The first maps were made on clay tablets and cave paintings, but maps improved with Chinese maritime charts of Southeast Asia and beyond. Nautical maps created during the European Age of Exploration used geometry, latitude and longitude. Competition for colonial riches rested on the accuracy of these maps. The Portuguese had the lead in the 15th century, but were soon overtaken by the Spanish with Columbus voyaging to India but landing up in the Americas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_1fb21d20cf29b408119f5279ce666e73dee089356e52277d753a27e3440364eb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260211090252_1fb21d20cf29b408119f5279ce666e73dee089356e52277d753a27e3440364eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="4030" height="3407" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  European mapping of the coastline of peninsular India &nbsp;began after Vasco de Gama sailed around the Horn of Africa to arrive at what is now Kerala in 1498. The British and French struggled for control of India, and the Carnatic Wars of the 19th century were extensions of their rivalry in Europe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_0fb0969dc3e07c5a77123b4aa5eb0f11d2ffea73c108077f7e4d1892d6bd4bb6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260211090252_0fb0969dc3e07c5a77123b4aa5eb0f11d2ffea73c108077f7e4d1892d6bd4bb6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2842" height="4160" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  While most of the maps at this exhibition were commissioned by the East India Company and the Survey of India, there are quite a few made by Parisian cartographers and feature Pondicherry and the Danish trading outpost at Tranquebar. Followed chronologically, the maps show improvements in cartographic techniques. The earliest French map L’Inde of J D Barbié du Bocage from 1760 is a copper engraving with hand painted colours demarcating boundaries. ‘Napaul’, ‘Gorka’ and ‘Catmando’ are depicted. The rivers of India are precisely drawn, as is the Brahmaputra (Yarou Tsanpou) even though locations across the rest of Tibet are rough estimates.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_486dc1b12f391550516be164f27170d4702a69b5125c1b8c4b10f76fdae4c0b1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260211090252_486dc1b12f391550516be164f27170d4702a69b5125c1b8c4b10f76fdae4c0b1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1675" height="604" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  The 1781 map Carte des Indes en deçà et au-delà du Gange of Rigobert Bonne has slightly more detail about Nepal with even ‘Pattan’ and ‘Bagmally’ river marked. William Darton’s 1802 map has ‘Nogarcot’ and ‘Mocaumpour’ wrongly placed to the east of the valley of ‘Napaul’. Samuel Arrowsmith’s 1828 map ‘India and the Birman Empire’ has Nepal’s rough boundaries demarcated for the first time within a hand-coloured green border, with the mountain ‘Dholagiri’ and ‘Dhunchi’ appearing for the first time. The 1835 map by Boston-based American cartographer Thomas Bradford has a more precise ‘Burrampooter’ river with ‘Sgigatoe’, ‘Lassa’ and ‘Bootan’ marked. In Nepal, ‘Batgan’, ‘Macwampour’ and ‘Lelit Pattan’ appear near ‘Catmandu’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_5509c8e043a74b3e34e399c0684ca8eef7fc79953ee0dd18aedc738e8189d552.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260211090252_5509c8e043a74b3e34e399c0684ca8eef7fc79953ee0dd18aedc738e8189d552" data-rendition-name="original" width="4094" height="3646" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  One striking landmark appears consistently through a century of map-making from 1760 onwards, and that is the sacred Yamdrok Tso near Lhasa. It is precisely located, although it is drawn as a circular lake called ‘Jamdro or Palto Lake’ till J Bartholomew’s lithographic map in 1893 Constable’s Hand Atlas of India. Bartholomew’s map is also where ‘Mt Everest’ appears for the first time with its altitude ’29,002ft’ after Peak XV was calculated to be the highest mountain in the world by the Survey of India. Meanwhile, ‘Kinchinjunga’ appears in some of the earlier maps from the mid-1800s, north of ‘Dorjeloo’. The maps did not only have locations of towns, rivers and mountains but also other interesting facts about places. History buffs will find much to pore over in these maps.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_8280c979b175946a2ac29e22b7a2b2427f7f36f22093c3456524f1f529311498.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260211090252_8280c979b175946a2ac29e22b7a2b2427f7f36f22093c3456524f1f529311498" data-rendition-name="original" width="4160" height="2762" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  Many have sites of major British battles while conquering India. The ‘British India’ map by J Rapkin has dates and times of the ‘Principle Massacres’ during the Indian Mutiny of 1857. The map also shows India’s growing railway network with completed lines and those ‘in progress’. Narrow gauge lines can be seen in successive maps snaking up to the Nepal border to haul sal logs for sleepers for India’s expanding railway network. Many maps were drawn by British military intelligence. One even has the Kuti route of the Nepal Army while invading Tibet in 1791, and the Chinese Army’s advance in hot pursuit through Kerung to Nuwakot.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_a41ff6a7453f95d1e83c12ed3f831911d65ebd4d2389e0e3b774252dfa037132.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260211090252_a41ff6a7453f95d1e83c12ed3f831911d65ebd4d2389e0e3b774252dfa037132" data-rendition-name="original" width="1173" height="679" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  Pre-1857 maps show the western Tarai as a part of British India, but in later ones the Naya Muluk districts of Banke, Bardia, Kailali and Kanchanpur have reverted back to Nepal. The maps clearly mark Nepal as an independent nation, and represent it differently from Indian princely states. The Atlas of India of 1846 shows the ‘Dominion of the King of Nepal’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260211090252_52132146d9ee8b922560b98e90d866149715d7f53ced408b5f3af8f3b142a07b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260211090252_52132146d9ee8b922560b98e90d866149715d7f53ced408b5f3af8f3b142a07b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4149" height="3682" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  Visitors will be curious about Nepal's claim to Limpiyadhura and Lipu Lek. A map by Mason &amp; Payne from 1846 clearly shows the ‘Kallee River’ as being the border between Nepal and British India, with Kalapni within Nepal. The Lipu Gad tributary (which India claims is the border) is not marked. Some other maps, however, seem to show the border not following the Kali river to Limpiyadhura but the tributary up to Lipu Lek.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026021112024_9a1b6055a9fbecca7b64c3882c205efb336aac03e64ecf43a2044cb079cd699f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2026021112024_9a1b6055a9fbecca7b64c3882c205efb336aac03e64ecf43a2044cb079cd699f" data-rendition-name="original" width="875" height="1215" loading="lazy" alt="Map Land NT"> </figure>  Imaging South Asia: Nepal in the Making&nbsp; Kathmandu Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Revisited&nbsp; 13 February – 17 March For guided walk-throughs and curatorial tours: +977 1-5318048 Panel discussions: -Cartographic Practices from the &nbsp;Gorkha Polity to the Present with Buddhi Narayan Shrestha and Kanak Mani Dixit&nbsp; Friday, 13 February, 4pm -Mapping Beyond Borders with Akhilesh Upadhyay and Amish Raj Mulmi Wednesday, 25 February, 4pm&nbsp;

Map land

We walk past familiar neighbourhoods and wonder how much it has changed. An ongoing exhibition at The Kalā Salon titled Changing Times by The Pagoda Group aims to do just that -- capture ever-changing society within a captivating display of colourful canvases. Brick-lined houses, local tea shops, ancient temples, quiet devotion are themes in Pradhumna Shrestha’s series Shangri-La, much of which is an imagined past filled with nostalgia of the place he grew up in. By keeping people out of the frame, he allows space for what he calls a divine aura to surface.&nbsp; “I was born and brought up here and my canvases echo the nostalgia of cities like Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Lalitpur which are dense with myth, folklore, religion, and an ever-present divinity. All of this is truly what is ours, and we must treasure it,” says Shrestha. “Whatever I truly felt in my heart, I translated it into my work.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1036" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  The swirling clouds that drift across Shrestha’s canvases borrow from thangka and paubha traditions, lending the scenes a sense of mysticism and otherworldliness. Within this dreamscape are red circular forms which represent wheels of chariots. &nbsp;The presence of divinity dominates from above, its presence asserted in soft blue brushstrokes below, as if the deity’s gaze itself has seeped into the land. Gods linger as guardians and temples hum with enigma in his paintings. In his much earlier work, Cultural Bond, a lakhe masked dancer bursts forward in vibrant red, dancing against a backdrop of molten gold clouds. The lakhe’s trance signifies protection and where it steps, the evil cannot follow. Hence, the skulls that surround but never fall beneath its feet but, one leg hangs suspended in midair, suggesting uncertainty, raising questions.&nbsp; Is this a symbol of culture and tradition, secure, or is it endangered by modernity? The work captures a society at a crossroads, honouring tradition while grappling with the risk of drifting away from it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="979" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In Panchatatva Mandala, Pasang Bikram Lama fuses two mandalas into a single visual meditation, suggesting unity where each colour carries symbolic weight: yellow evokes the soil of the earth, blue flows as water, red burns with fire, and black opens into the vastness of the spatial sky. Together, these elements form a quiet cosmology that speaks of creation and dissolution, of life folding endlessly into death and returning again. Says Lama, “Everyone has a mandala of their own being, and the elements represent their cycle of life.” Mala Shrestha’s works Water of the Divine Mother and The Spirit of Serenity unfold in a dreamy and delicate fusion of nature and religion, suggesting that divine forms are not separate from the natural world. Trees and branch-like motifs appear as origins of sacred sculptures and spiritual presences.&nbsp; Her goddesses, adorned in alluring ornaments, emerge from trunks and streams, painted in aqua green, pink pastels, and rustic browns, as if grown rather than created, affirming that the divine is inseparable from nature and present everywhere.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Kishor Nakarmi’s Essence of Nepal, where Gautam Buddha appears embedded within leaves, brick walls, birds, and wilderness, dissolving boundaries between the sacred and the earthly. These canvases radiate calm and their subtlety is enriched by finely observed details. Similarly, Rudra Bahadur Pun captures the vitality of mask dances and ritual movements found in the monasteries of Mustang, weaving together tradition, landscape, and daily life. The essence of the exhibition comes together in Roshan Pradhan’s works. His paintings reflect a contemporary tension where technology collides with ancestral myth and the power of tradition. A fierce Garud rises within a landscape saturated by technological apparatuses, while at its feet a human form representing AI clings tightly, attempting to assert control.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In another work, Bhairab confronts a human embodiment of AI in a theatrical standoff, with the deity ultimately prevailing, reaffirming endurance over technological dominance. The human figures in Pradhan’s paintings are drawn from life with his friends volunteering as models, photographed and later translated onto canvas.&nbsp; “Technology has taken over our lives. Many can probably not even imagine life without it now. But, culture, too, is integral to human existence. Our life would be much different without our culture; it is a part of us,” notes the artist. Rather than framing technology as purely antagonistic, Pradhan explores coexistence, and while acknowledging its destructive potential, he affirms his belief in the power of our myths and traditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Pradhan adds, “These paintings are also an archive of its time. Viewers centuries from now may read these paintings as records of the age we inhabit. While technology is important, cultural continuity must walk alongside it. Festivals must still be celebrated, oral traditions must be sustained, and our roots must be remembered, especially by future generations.” Curator Sophia L Pande says the exhibition took more than a year to put together:&nbsp; “It responds to a shifting world, seeking to capture both transformation and the quiet fear of loss. Its themes move fluidly across environment, technology, artificial intelligence, and climate change, reflecting the diverse yet interconnected practices of the artists, providing a glimpse into the evolving landscape of contemporary Nepali art.” Changing Times The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre, Thamel 11AM-8PM

Time, transience, transition

The slow, arduous labour of democracy rarely announces itself with the fanfare of constitutional moments. &nbsp;It proceeds instead through committee rooms, ward meetings, half-attended assemblies, the awkward choreography of speech and silence, and the everyday compromises between aspiration and constraint.&nbsp; The book Nepal’s Federalism and the Pursuit of Deliberative Democracy attends precisely to this unglamorous terrain. In it, Vishnu Kumari Tandon does not ask whether democracy is desirable — an already settled question — but whether it can be made to think, to listen, and to endure under conditions of inequality, historical fracture, and institutional novelty.&nbsp; Her wager is modest yet demanding: that federalism, when tethered to participatory planning and deliberative fors, might recalibrate the relationship between state and citizen without promising redemption. Tandon’s Nepal is neither a site of democratic salvation nor a study in failure. It is a space of trial, where ideas migrate from constitutional text to municipal practice, altered by context, power, and expectation. Democracy here appears not as an ideal form but as a situated practice -- procedural, contested, and unfinished.&nbsp; The book’s quiet achievement lies in redirecting debates on deliberative democracy away from abstract normativity and toward the ethical friction of lived institutions. Federalism arrives in Nepal not as a technocratic reform but as a historical concession, wrested from conflict, exclusion, and prolonged political unrest. Tandon, who is a governance consultant at the World Bank, situates the 2015 Constitution within this unsettled genealogy, treating federalism less as an administrative innovation than as a moral response to longstanding claims of marginalisation.&nbsp; The constitutional recognition of local autonomy is thus freighted with ethical expectation. Yet the book refuses to equate decentralisation with empowerment. Federalism, Tandon insists, redistributes power without dissolving hierarchy. Domination may simply reappear closer to home. The central question, therefore, is not whether local governments exist, but how they govern: whether institutionalised participation genuinely alters the terms on which citizens speak, decide, and contest public priorities. Federalism emerges not as a stable structure but as a field of tension—between autonomy and dependence, inclusion and capture, aspiration and capacity. It is within this unstable terrain that the democratic experiment unfolds.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127090120_62bd86d5cbb0dc9d199b797b2c90a5be37213b6c9236f79220706469cd3689a0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127090120_62bd86d5cbb0dc9d199b797b2c90a5be37213b6c9236f79220706469cd3689a0" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Vishnu Kumari Tandon"> <figcaption>Vishnu Kumari Tandon</figcaption> </figure>  UNEQUAL SKIES&nbsp; Participation, one of democracy’s most invoked terms, often risks conceptual exhaustion. Tandon restores its weight by treating participation as labour rather than ritual. Drawing on fieldwork in Buddhabhumi and Dhanushadham municipalities, she reconstructs the choreography of local planning: assemblies, committees, and councils through which proposals circulate, stall, or vanish. Participation here is unevenly distributed. It is shaped by gendered expectations, caste hierarchies, economic precarity, and anticipations of return. Attendance becomes a calculation rather than a civic reflex. This analytical attention to motivation marks one of the book’s strengths.&nbsp; Citizens participate not out of abstract virtue but through pragmatic reasoning, moral obligation, and strategic interest. Participation thus appears neither ennobling nor cynical, but politically intelligible. If participation concerns presence, deliberation concerns voice — and, crucially, whose voice matters. Tandon’s engagement with deliberative democratic theory is respectful yet revisionist. Habermasian ideals of reasoned consensus are treated as aspirational rather than portable, strained by structural inequality. In municipal assemblies, deliberation is patterned by authority: who speaks first, who commands attention, whose claims are legitimised. Marginalised citizens may be present without influence, audible without consequence. Deliberation risks becoming procedural affirmation rather than substantive redistribution of voice. Yet Tandon does not abandon deliberation as a democratic practice. Instead, she broadens its normative horizon. Drawing on second-generation deliberative theory, she legitimises emotion, self-interest, and strategic speech as components of democratic reasoning. Deliberation becomes a contested exchange rather than a purified rationality. The common good, if it appears, emerges provisionally: negotiated rather than presumed. One of the book’s most original contributions lies in its treatment of fiscal decentralisation. Money is not merely a resource but a language through which priorities are articulated and participation structured. The devolution of budgetary authority transforms deliberation into distributive politics. Citizens attend assemblies not simply to speak but to secure roads, water systems, clinics, schools. Voice is tethered to material expectation. This proximity intensifies engagement while sharpening conflict. Fiscal autonomy thus amplifies the stakes of deliberation without guaranteeing its equity. Local representatives emerge as paradoxical figures: empowered yet constrained, accountable yet insulated. Tandon resists binary judgments, showing instead how fiscal decentralisation deepens democratic possibility while exposing institutional fragility. Threaded through the book is a sustained interrogation of the ‘common good’. Revered in theory and suspect in practice, the concept is neither discarded nor sanctified. In unequal societies, appeals to the common good can obscure asymmetries of sacrifice. Empirically, deliberation proceeds through articulated self-interests: neighbourhood demands, caste claims, gendered priorities. Far from undermining democracy, these claims animate it. Self-interest becomes deliberation’s motor rather than its negation. The book thus advances a quiet ethical argument: democracy does not require the transcendence of interest, but its articulation under conditions of mutual visibility. The common good, if it exists, is emergent, fragile, and revisable. Institutions, for Tandon, are moral technologies. Laws mandate participation, but they cannot generate trust, courage, or equality. Procedural compliance may coexist with substantive exclusion. Yet repetition matters. Even imperfect fora can cultivate habits of speaking and being heard. Deliberative democracy, the book suggests, is not an event but a discipline, learned slowly, unevenly, and reversibly. Federalism is less a solution than a condition: one that opens space for democratic learning without securing its outcome. Firmly grounded in Nepal’s political history, the book resists parochialism. Nepal functions as a mirror, reflecting broader dilemmas of democratic deepening across unequal societies. Comparative resonances with Brazil, India, and donor-driven governance reforms are handled without formula or prescription. Nepal is neither an exemplar nor an exception. It is a site where democracy reveals its ordinary difficulties. The prose mirrors the argument: careful, analytic, resistant to grand claims. What lingers is not a verdict but a sensibility: an attentiveness to democracy’s tempo. Deliberative democracy appears less as consensus achieved than as disagreement sustained without rupture. In an age of democratic impatience, Tandon offers a quieter ethic. Democracy must be allowed to think slowly, to falter, and to learn. This book stands as a thoughtful companion to that discipline, reminding us that democratic transformation often occurs far from the centre, in places where speaking itself remains an achievement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127090112_4bd0fdb8c4ef4e44c21e9cba4ae63a8481ca1d61bb20f716b29f649bcdf1a4bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260127090112_4bd0fdb8c4ef4e44c21e9cba4ae63a8481ca1d61bb20f716b29f649bcdf1a4bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Federalism book details NT"> </figure>  Aftab Husain is a Pakistan-born poet and literary and cultural critic. He teaches South Asian literature and culture at the University of Vienna.

Nepal’s slow grammar of democracy

A mighty metal bird, ‘Heron on Hunt’ spreads its wings and unhinges its mouth hungrily. It looks down at ‘The Defending Crab,’ which has windshield wipers for legs and opens its pincers defiantly at the heron, daring it to attack. The crab shell is made of a ceiling fan, the blades of which have been cut up to form the bird’s wings. “The story is that you are what you eat,” says artist <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Saurab Koirala</a>, whose solo exhibition ‘<a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a>’ at <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/archiving-for-the-future-an-intersection-of-heritage-and-architecture/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next </a>has sculptures made of material retrieved from garbage warehouses. Koirala was in the studio when protestors ransacked the adjacent Hyatt Hotel on 9 September. The windows of the iconic museum designed by <a href="https://www.archdaily.com/957728/carl-pruscha-an-architect-investigating-overlooked-territories" target="_blank">architect Carl Pruscha</a> in the 1960s were all shattered, but the studio survived. He used the broken glass to make fins for his fish sculptures and wings for insects.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Metamorphosis is a reference to the transformation of trash into art, but it is also fitting because many of the repurposed items are of insects: a firefly, a dung beetle, a spider, a dragonfly, a queen ant. The most striking are the pair of praying mantises, the smaller one is black, made of windshield wipers, and the larger grey one is made of a motorcycle silencer, bicycle parts, and a fluorescent tube holder. About the unrealistic size difference, Koirala notes that each piece is made of a component that defines its size. For the larger grey mantis, the defining piece is the silencer that makes up its torso. “The mantises are mating,” Koirala explains. “The female mantis will cannibalise the male afterwards, and the dragonfly witnesses the whole scene.” It is possible to look at each installation and immediately recognise what it is meant to be, but on looking closer we see what the parts are made of, and how. The exhibition is from Koirala’s Taragaon Next residency program sponsored by the Saraf Foundation.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Koirala thinks of himself as primarily a painter and a caricature artist, and not a sculptor. His mother was a teacher, and would make miniature animals, gods, houses for her students. “Seeing how happy she was doing that made me want to do it too, although she did not want me to be an artist,” Koirala recalls. Some of his mother’s creations are also on display at the exhibition. Koirala got more experience working with 3D models digitally in his work at Incessant Rain animation studio, especially animals. This seems to have given him strong visualisation skills that he has put to use in the art pieces, using minimal bending and cutting. Koirala participated in the WastArt Competition in 2018, where his Danphe sculpture made from colourful coke and soda cans was so striking that it became a part of the permanent collection at the Sagarmatha Next Art Gallery in Syangboche. Koirala worked in the studio in Khumbu, fashioning yaks and bees out of trekking trash.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  “My back hurts,” he grimaces as he opens the doors to the studio, an unassuming shed a short walk from the exhibition which is littered with metal spare parts for future art. He has gone through three whole bicycles with a power saw. Koirala seems to want to alter the scrap as little as possible, and it is uncanny how well some of it fits the pieces. The aerodynamic curved fuel tank of a Bajaj Avenger motorcycle becomes the abdomen of a gigantic queen ant. A mosquito repellent becomes the green body of a spider. A stapler and a coconut turn into a snail. The steel legs of a rolling office chair curve exactly into the legs and paws of a fox in motion. “I did not want the animals to be in static poses. I wanted to capture dynamic movement,” says Koirala. Fittingly, most of the parts he has chosen have come from vehicles: bicycles, motorcycles, scooters, car horns, air filters. While Koirala’s work in his Sagarmatha Next residency was about waste encroaching into nature in the mountains, his work in Metamorphosis is a nostalgic memory of a happy childhood in Biratnagar. ‘There used to be abundant dragonflies in my hometown,’ writes Koirala in his description. “As kids, we would catch them and tie threads to their tails and fly them like kites.” The message about the degradation of nature is more valid than ever. The world is seeing the mass extinction of insects, and uncontrolled urbanisation of polluted Kathmandu Valley means only ants and some spiders survive. Artist in Studio #9: <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a> <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next</a> Till 30 January 10AM-5:30PM

Vishad Raj Onta

Turning trash into sculptures

Rivers have been the lifelines of civilisations with their dynamic ecosystems providing vital services for human survival and ecological balance through the ages.&nbsp; But accelerating anthropocentric footprints are causing severe, and often irreversible, damage to river systems across the world, including those across High Asia, a region that sustains nearly a fourth of the global population downstream. An example is the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-the-bagmati-civilisation-is-becoming-uncivilised" target="_blank">Bagmati River</a> that courses through Kathmandu, crosses the Himalayan foothills to join the Ganga in India. A river that once shaped the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/when-it-comes-to-water-pollution,3196" target="_blank">Kathmandu Valley Civilisation </a>is now a polluted and biologically dead water body constricted by urban sprawl, choked by construction debris, chemical waste and untreated sewage.&nbsp; The loss of a sacred river is tragic enough, but its hazards related to health, life and livelihoods are not limited to the Valley, nor is its enormity fully gauged by the metrics of fatality, income loss, flood return periods, runoffs, embankment failure.&nbsp; It is a systemic collapse of ecological integrity, socio-economic stability and cultural heritage, affecting its downstream users as well. The death of Bagmati is a peril for a population size way bigger than circa 5 million residents of Kathmandu Valley. The degradation started in the 1980s and has accelerated. Why has not enough been done to save this iconic river that runs through Nepal’s capital?&nbsp; The Bagmati River Basin Improvement Project (BRBIP) was designed to make headway in restoring the river with a sewage treatment plant, dams for storing water to support dry-season runoff, recharge groundwater, creation of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resurrecting-bagmati-the-river" target="_blank">green biodiversity corridors</a> along the river bank to also serve as recreation areas, reduce the urban heat island effect, and also provide cultural continuity. The project also envisages collection of hydrological data for managing Bagmati multipurposewater systems and providing flood forecasts and early warnings aimed at protecting lives and property, among other things. Most importantly, the project takes the integrated water resource management approach, which, in principle, is a holistic and collaborative way of managing all elements of the water cycle to ensure water security, public and environmental health and amenity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260329040336_9605240fa8c7d649ce49fbe43565130e3187e979338ccf959c4e9b8c581b7a4c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2126" height="1577" loading="lazy" alt="Bagmati NT"> </figure>  This should pave the way for managing a river as a connected ecological, social, and economic system by enabling coordination across agencies and disciplines, stimulating technological innovation and financial investment. The success of this approach depends on long-term political will and commitment that transcend political cycles, but also needs strong community and civil society in defining issues and proposing solutions, creating and sharing knowledge, taking independent action to inform practice, monitoring and evaluating policies, and participating in public decision-making. Civil society, especially, in making the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank">revival of the Bagmati River</a> a pressing governance issue. The Bagmati Action Plan 2009, a precursor to the BRBIP, was designed in response to lawsuits filed in 2000 and 2004 by an independent legal practitioner of Kathmandu against waste dumping in the river.&nbsp; It took him almost two decades of legal battle for Nepal’s Supreme Court to pass orders for mandatory septic tanks in all homes in Kathmandu Valley, relocation of squatters from Bagmati river banks to government-built houses, and embargo on dumping and burying garbage on the banks of the river and its tributaries. Despite court orders, however, actual results have been unsatisfactory. Restoration of Bagmati barely made it to any political debate or electoral manifesto this time. Treatment plants have not been operational for years, yet no one is held accountable. The population ignores waste segregation or single-use plastic rules to check littering.&nbsp; The current condition of the river therefore seems to have more to do with the lack of public awareness and behaviour change than the failure of various master plans. Why does the deep danger of a dead river fail to arouse widespread civil society concern, let alone action? The apathy is perhaps underlined by an innately anthropocentric understanding of the river as a mere resource to be exploited, rather than the backbone of existence.&nbsp; Such a paradigm shift is possible when river or river systems are understood to be necessary for &nbsp;a harmonious coexistence with human populations. The more pertinent question is not whether a dead river can be restored because there are many examples from around the world where that has been successfully achieved. It is whether we choose to restore our rivers for intergenerational equity. This would require a holistic perspective and political will to revive reverence for a river system so that its symbiotic relationship with human settlements can be restored. Roshni Gurung is Research Assistant, River Basins at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

A lifeline becomes liability

As a direct fallout of the Israel-American war on Iran, Nepal on Monday nearly doubled the price of aviation fuel in a move that is going to impact during the spring peak tourism season. The steep price hike of jet fuel appears to have been made to cushion the impact on the general public. The price of petrol, diesel and cooking gas were also hiked for the third time in a month on Thursday.&nbsp; Aviation turbine fuel (ATF) will now cost $2,237/ton up from $1,207. The cost of ATF in Kathmandu was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sky-high-fuel-price-hits-nepal-s-tourism-airlines" target="_blank">already one of the highest among Asian airports</a>, and this price hike will affect mostly long-haul flights to Istanbul, Seoul and Narita for airlines that need to refuel in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404130420_4ae075d1e871fc5608cf242d6e309005d30cfdb6e6d0ecfb45ca7388a851c6aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260404130420_4ae075d1e871fc5608cf242d6e309005d30cfdb6e6d0ecfb45ca7388a851c6aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1784" height="1294" loading="lazy" alt="aviation turbine fuel prices"> </figure>  Domestic airlines, which paid Rs127 per litre, will now have to pay Rs251 for their turboprop planes. “We have no recourse but to pass this on to passengers as a fuel surcharge,” said one executive of a domestic airline in Nepal. As it is, Nepal Oil Corporation levied a hefty tax on petrol and ATF in order to subsidise diesel and cooking gas. Many analysts were expecting a fuel price hike, but the near-doubling of the price of ATF means the new Nepal government is trying to protect ordinary citizens from raising the price of diesel and LPG even more than it has so far. Aviation fuel in Nepal is trucked in on tankers from Indian refineries and its price is highest in Kathmandu, and less in Bhairawa and Pokhara — transportation costs being higher depending on distance. But even in Bhairawa, ATF prices have doubled for the only international airline that serves it, Thai AirAsia.&nbsp; Most airlines flying Kathmandu from nearer airports in India, the Gulf and Southeast Asia will be less impacted because they can fly in on full tanks and need minimum refuelling in Kathmandu. But carriers like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/high-cost-lays-aviation-low-in-nepal" target="_blank">Turkish Airlines</a>, Cathay Pacific, Korean Air, &nbsp;and Nepal Airlines which fly wide body aircraft on long-distance routes will be hit hardest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026040305040_a40db74375ebe0c28e7c35477bc262df9ae392a84e7bfa4033996181d69e0209" data-rendition-name="original" width="1032" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="sky high prices"> </figure>  However, ATF costs have also been raised in regional airports like Hong Kong, India and Singapore. Aviation fuel at New Delhi airport has risen to $1,698/ton. Korean Air is adopting emergency measures to reduce expenses to make up for rising fuel costs. South Korea gets nearly all its fuel from the Gulf, and the blocking of the Strait of Hormuz has been especially damaging for the country. Fuel makes up more than a third of the operating cost of airlines, and even a small increase in ATF prices can make a big difference. Crude oil prices have increased 50% since the West Asia war began on 28 February, and global ATF prices have doubled.&nbsp; Airlines in Asia, including Nepal, face a double shock. The first is the higher fuel cost, and the second is that fewer people are travelling. Nepal’s tourism arrivals fell in March compared to February. India has added up to 20% fuel surcharge on domestic flights, and has reduced flights by 12%. Chinese airlines have also been affected, with China Eastern preparing for a significant impact of the Gulf war. It has added fuel surcharges to new tickets, as have Cathay Pacific, Thai International and Air Asia. Vietnam has drastically cut the number of domestic flights, and the Philippines will ration ATF. Australia imports 90% of its ATF mainly from China which has stopped export to ensure domestic supply to its own airlines. Carriers like Qantas have curtailed flights, changing aircraft type on long-haul routes, and a fuel surcharge of up to 20% have been added to tickets. Most Asian airlines are adding fuel charges only to new tickets, and the increase will not affect the price of pre-sold tickets issued for April and May.

Fuel price shock hits Nepal aviation

It is only April, and Himalayan expeditions are already making rotations to acclimatise on Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, and will soon be making summit pushes.&nbsp; On Mt Everest, Icefall Doctors are fixing ropes and ladders into the Western Cwm as international climbers arrive at Base Camp. Spring 2026 is going to be the busiest and most crowded so far in the Nepal Himalaya. The main reason is that China has closed expeditions from the north side for eight-thousanders Everest and Cho Oyu, and also Xixapangma.&nbsp; The closure is informal, from what one can make out. The Chinese have not put out any official statement, but there are no permits either. The reason seemingly was the ‘Rising Dragon’ firework display last September by pyrotechnic artist Cai Guo-Qiang near Xigatse.&nbsp; Working with outdoor wear company Arc’teryx, Guo-Qiang set off an impressive sequence of orange and white fireworks that wound up a mountain. The spectacular display was criticised for damaging the fragile ecology of the Tibetan Plateau. But this cannot be the only reason the north side is closed. Experienced Everest blogger Alan Arnette anticipates that about 125 climbers will shift to the Nepal side of the mountains, and expects there to be up to 900 summits this spring — up from the highest spring number so far of 876 climbers on top in 2019.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260404050428_8c31812bf38f699c4faa74f25814a6ddaee397f71a629e549023f29250f05082" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="mountaineering"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TENZING</figcaption> </figure>  The early Base Camp arrivals are having problems with their first rotations because of heavy snow this season. Unlike previous springs, this year has seen back-to-back blizzards at high altitudes since February. The increased snow load on the slopes have increased avalanche danger right across the mountains.&nbsp; There has been an increase in numbers on Everest despite the West Asia war, flight disruptions, LPG shortage and new regulations. The permit fee has gone up for the first time since 2015 from $11,000 to $15,000 this year.&nbsp; The Tourism Bill passed by Nepal’s Upper House last year would have required climbers to have first summitted a 7,000m peak in Nepal before attempting Everest. However, the Department of Tourism has confirmed that there are no new experience requirements this season. Some want this rule changed to include 7,000m peaks anywhere in the world. That could be one reason people are rushing to climb Everest before the Nepal government changes its mind and enforces the new regulations on prior experience on Everest. “It’s probably going to encourage a lot of people that simply are not ready to go,” reckons Alan Arnette. “Once again, we may see a lot of inexperienced people on the mountain trying to get in before the rule comes into place, if it does.”&nbsp; Arnette has always been sceptical of Everest regulations, and points out many instances where rules have been announced but not implemented over the ten years that he has been tracking them. For example, a helicopter ban to Everest Base Camp was announced last year, but rescinded. A rule requiring climbers to bring down waste was never seriously enforced. Since there is so much money involved for the government and for the operators, any any rule that would reduce revenue is never fully implemented. This year there is another ‘High-Altitude Trash Quota’ rule requiring climbers and guides operating above Camp 2 to collect and bring down at least 2kg of waste from the higher camps.&nbsp; The Nepal government has tried to diversify peaks on offer by reducing the royalty on climbs, but the draw of Everest, Annapurna and other eight-thousanders seems to be too great. Even when the permit fees for some remote peaks like Kangri Shar, Himlung and Api, were reduced to $400, there are few takers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260402120436_a90cd44858e97086f773aa1fbd592b3434bb07d89cd4a1843b2ca32a84e7c72d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Photo Damien Francois"> <figcaption>Photo: DAMIEN FRANCOIS</figcaption> </figure>  TIME LAPSE Clients and expedition operators have been trying to shorten the time needed to complete an Everest expedition from the city of origin to the top and back. Since Nepal has no rules about spending a certain number of days in acclimatisation, this has allowed some expedition organisers to use new technology.&nbsp; Austrian operator Lukas Furtenbach last May led a group of four British ex-military clients to the summit within a week of leaving London. This climb was scrutinised because the group had practiced breathing xenon gas, a substance that increases the count of red blood cells and is banned in competitive sports. The climbers had also trained for months at home in hypoxic tents, and used supplemental oxygen during the actual climb.&nbsp; The success of that expedition prompted an investigation by Nepal’s Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Civil Aviation, but there was nothing it could do because the team had taken the xenon in Germany two weeks before their trip. But even if they had administered the gas in Nepal, it would technically not be illegal. Furtenbach is firmly in favour of speed, and of using the gas. “The only reason why we are working with xenon is to make climbing safer, to protect climbers from high altitude sickness,” he says, arguing that the less time climbers spend on the mountains, the less their exposure is to disasters, sickness, and they also generate less trash.&nbsp; His firm, Furtenbach Adventure, offers a three-week Everest South Flash expedition, at a cost of €100,000, using custom oxygen systems. Other expeditions take up to two months.&nbsp; A young American duo of Ryan Mitchell and Justin Sockett got to Everest Base Camp five days ago. They are preparing for an oxygen-free summit attempt.&nbsp; ‘ Being around these mountains for one day has already brought me so much joy. Every time I come back to the Khumbu I feel more familiar and connected,’ posted Mitchell. He and Sockett have since summitted Lobuche East (6,119m) as they continue to acclimatise and wait for the Khumbu Icefall route to be fixed.&nbsp; There are other sans-O2 trips planned this climbing season in Nepal. Norwegian Kristin Harila, the fastest in the world to climb all 14 8,000ers (in 92 days), is attempting the Nuptse, Lhotse, and Everest three-peak climb without supplemental oxygen. American Tyler Andrews and Ecuadorian Karl Egloff are continuing their race to break records in Everest. While Andrews is attempting the Fastest Known Time from Base Camp to the top without oxygen, Egloff is taking it a step further and going for a round trip: from Base Camp to the summit and back in record time.&nbsp; Both Egloff and Andrews had attempted these climbs in 2025 spring, but abandoned around 7,000m due to bad weather.&nbsp; Kami Rita Sherpa wants to extend his all-time record of total Everest summits to 32, while Kenton Cool from England is chasing 20, a non-Nepali record.&nbsp; The first summits of the season will be in late April, or early May depending on weather. Besides Everest, there are a lot of interesting climbs on lesser known peaks.&nbsp; The Japanese trio of Masayuki Takenaka, Tatsuro Sugimoto, and Ryota Nomura, for example, are attempting the unclimbed Jarkya Himal (6,473m) near Manaslu. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Fake rescues</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260402120436_600c0176e24327fd3dfcfd634e4b871f3e5314aa00eb4885ad137ac6f9c4a3b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="519" loading="lazy" alt="Fake rescues"> </figure>  This year’s spring climbing season has coincided with Nepal’s new government taking action against alleged perpetrators in fake rescues and insurance fraud. The Central Investigation Bureau (CIB) has already arrested more than a dozen trekking agency executives, hospital managers and helicopter company executives for medevac insurance fraud. Climbers are known to fabricate medical emergencies, get flown down from as high as Camp II on Everest, and then submit false insurance claims.&nbsp; Sometimes one flight is made to look like many using fake invoices. Trekking companies are also involved in fake rescues of hikers who just get tired of walking.&nbsp; Too many fake claims could lead to insurer’s losing confidence in the industry, and increased premiums, leading to delayed responses in real accidents.&nbsp; As a result of the scandal, there is now more scrutiny from the government about rescues. Already, helicopter operators have to wait for permission before carrying out rescues while their application is vetted.&nbsp; The worry is that this could cause unnecessary delays when time is of the essence in mountain rescue. Already, medevacs are delayed because of the bureaucracy needing permits to fly to sensitive regions bordering China. Last year, a climber died on Himlung because helicopter rescue took too long while operators ran from door to door in Kathmandu to obtain necessary permits. <h2>Mingma David Sherpa, MP</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260402120432_05c1600440327f4ae4bcae641b634714951f45702080a88d4e2628587190aa25" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Mingma David Sherpa"> </figure>  Meet Mingma David Sherpa, Nepal’s first mountaineer to be nominated to Parliament. Sherpa is a self-made professional climber from Rolwaling, who rose up from an expedition porter to a record-breaking mountaineer and expedition organiser. As an insider, he is now in a position to streamline laws related to Nepal’s trekking and mountaineering sector. He is co-owner of EliteExped with Nims Purja, and in 2021 the two were part of a team of Nepali climbers to be the first to make it to the top of K2 in winter, the second highest mountain in the world in Pakistan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260402120432_c4ec586e7a27b09a72e61925a3897d843f864563d9e82a3fd3e25293e22cbe54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2082" height="1396" loading="lazy" alt="Mingama David Sherpa"> </figure>  Mingma David was also on Purja’s Project Possible to climb all the 14 eight-thousanders in six months, shattering the previous record of seven years. He was featured in Purja’s documentary 14 Peaks: Nothing is Impossible.&nbsp; At age 30 he became the youngest climber to reach the top of all 14 eight-thousanders for which he was awarded the Piolet d’Or. Mingma David has taken part in dozens of successful rescues of fellow climber, including the highest ever long-line rescue on Dhaulagiri and saving the life of fellow-climber from 8,600m on Everest. <h2>April Fool</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260402120432_775afff27d4a2889a60730aa25bbc5f8eb8ea343528c8c031a6febbfd74814c4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="1820" loading="lazy" alt="Furtenback Adventures"> </figure>  The Austrian expedition outfitting company Furtenbach Adventures spoofed the anticipated crowds on an April First post on social media this week, showing ‘a fully galvanized, weather-resistant steel staircase, complete with a sturdy handrail’ to make the Hillary Step bottleneck on Mt Everest less dangerous.

Nepal Himalaya Spring 2026

<a href="https://www.triarchypress.net/michael-thompson.html" target="_blank">Michael Thompson</a>, who died on 18 March after suffering a stroke a few weeks earlier, was a former Gurkha officer, mountaineer, and <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">founding pillar of Cultural Theory</a>.&nbsp;
His daughter Ursula said it was a peaceful end, Mike himself had asked to be taken off medical support after doctors said they could do no more.
Together with his PhD adviser, the late Mary Douglas and fellow PhD student Steve Rayner of Oxford’s Institute for Science, Innovation and Society, Mike chose to generalise from years of anthropological work—unlike other social anthropologists—to filter out common traits of human behaviour across time and space, and then to apply that to modern society and its conflicts.
Cultural Theory has also been used to explain water and energy conflicts in Nepal and California, seat belt and pension fund battles in Europe, the underlying social dynamics of kibbutz in Israel, and what Mike liked to call “argumentative technology assessment” plus much more.&nbsp;
Unlike other ‘descriptive’ social sciences, Cultural Theory is ‘interpretive' in its orientation, which makes many in the ‘descriptive tradition’ rather uneasy with its ‘uncomfortable knowledge’.
A classic example is the massive almost six-year exercise that resulted in the multi-country, multi-author 4-volume study Human Choice and Climate Change led by Steve Rayner and Elizabeth Malone for the US Department of Energy and the Pacific North-West Lab.
It was, and perhaps still is, the first time that the social sciences looked seriously into climate change. However, its insights and conclusions were uncomfortable enough for it to be ignored, and only Mike Hulme of the Tyndall Center covered it as a chapter in his book Why We Disagree About Climate Change a dozen years later.
During my various lectures around the world, I myself have found younger scholars in China, India, South Asia, South-East Asia, Africa and Latin America much more welcoming and open about Cultural Theory interpretations than in Europe or America.
Mike liked to say that his own work on Cultural Theory was initially conceptualised while <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3633" target="_blank">he was in Nepal climbing mountains</a>. He was part of the British expeditions on Annapurna’s South Face in 1970 and Everest Southwest Face in 1975.
Even while working on his PhD under Mary Douglas, which was published by Oxford University Press as Rubbish Theory: The Creation and Destruction of Value. Mary Douglas and others having done work on the Cultural Theory of everyday goods and consumption (including drinking), Mike’s Rubbish Theory showed how unwanted trash or scrap eventually became invaluable antique.&nbsp;
Unfortunately, OUP withdrew the book after its eminent economics professor-board member objected to the book showing the limitations of economics in explaining value.
When I asked his wife Anne why Mike was not republishing it, she said it was probably because he is practicing what he preaches, hoping to see if that book can transit from discarded ‘waste’ to achieve ‘antique value’. &nbsp;It did, and was being put up on Amazon for an astronomical sum until Pluto Press republished it.&nbsp;
In line with Cultural Theory, which examines and explains everyday life, Mike’s sociology of mountaineering expeditions was published in Diadem Books’ Mirrors in the Cliffs in 1983 as a hilarious but astute piece titled Sahibs and Sherpas.
I first met Mike in April 1986 at the now famous <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-memoriam-jack-d-ives-1931-2024-rqpsk7eh" target="_blank">Mohonk Mountain Conference</a> in upstate New York, the conference with most of the world’s eminent mountain experts which resulted in a major scientific paradigm shift – the debunking of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1211" target="_blank">Theory of Himalayan Degradation</a>.&nbsp;
It resulted in the book <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Sustainable-Mountain-Development-Getting-the-Facts-Right-Jack-D-Ives,946" target="_blank">Uncertainty on a Himalayan Scale</a> (with Warburton and Hatley), which was republished in 2007 by Himal book with a long updating foreword by Mike and me.
Our collaboration continued across many centres in the US and Europe starting with San Diego’s Western Behaviourial Sciences Institute in 1989/90 where I first met Mary Douglas and Steve Rayner (and became the first person in Nepal to tele-conference via landline phone connected to San Diego’s computer system).&nbsp;
We continued on to Battelle Pacific Northwest National Lab in Washington state that resulted in the monumental 4-volume Human Choice and Climate Change, and involved work with Oxford’s James Martin Institute for Science and Civilization, King’s College London, LOS Center in Bergen, places in Germany and very much at the <a href="https://iiasa.ac.at/options-magazine/summer-2022/people-profile-from-everest-to-systems-analysis" target="_blank">International Institute for Applied Systems Analysis (IIASA/Laxenburg)</a> since the early 1990s.&nbsp;
During forays to Europe and transits through London, I often stayed with Mike and Anne at their London Highbury-Islington house and later in Bath when he moved there. Incidentally, they had bought the London house rather cheap before its gentrification (their neighbour was a school where Tony Blair’s young children studied).
Between <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4675" target="_blank">mountaineering </a>and Cultural Theory, Mike worked as a builder, and he single-handedly retrofitted their London home, which he later sold to buy a much bigger and better house in Bath with money to spare as retirement fund.
The idea of what was good versus bad development in the Himalaya from a perspective was further developed as an IIASA/Oxford Science and Society research resulting in our 2017 book Aid, Technology and Development: the Lessons from Nepal.&nbsp;
While he was in Nepal for that research, we did manage to get him to deliver a <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-%20from-nepal/" target="_blank">Social Science Baha</a> lecture on the book’s essence, <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">Cultural Theory and Clumsiness: Some Lessons from Nepal</a>.&nbsp;
Sometimes our collective writings came from discussions in the strangest of ways and places. After a long meeting at the IIASA schloss, we ended up in a pub for beer, and the discussions were around what it would take for a city to be a force for good and not one bad for the environment.&nbsp;
If such a city could be designed, one could plonk it on the middle of a degraded landscape, which theoretically should then heal itself. Someone less inebriated obviously took notes and circulated it, which eventually resulted in the Engineering Sustainability paper On Governance for Re-engineering City Infrastructure.
Another time, I had to give a keynote presentation at an IIED/Sussex STEPs Center dialogue in London’s Goodenough College on re-imagining Development in LDCs. Following that talk, we sat down and produced our Restoring Development Dharma with Toad’s Eye Science.
Just before Covid struck, we (including Bruce Beck and Joanne Linnerooth-Bayer from IIASA) had been working on a Cultural Theory examination of four schools of engineering thought, our last meeting was at Steve Rayner’s Keeble College in Oxford as part of that exercise.&nbsp;
Its earlier efforts were explored in our work on transboundary risk management in the Himalaya at Bergen’s LOS Center and also dealt with in a chapter in EARTHSCAN’s IIASA publication Transboundary Risk Management edited by Joanne and others.&nbsp;
It argued that risk is socially constructed in four distinctly varied ways, where facts and values are entangled, leading to competing technological preferences. Mike desperately wanted to follow up on the Keeble meeting at IIASA, but – given the Covid fears already underway – Anne put her foot down and had him quarantined at home.
Our other on-going effort was, given that IIASA was founded during the Cold War as a place for scientists of the Euro-American West and the Communist East to work together to build confidence for peace, but after the collapse of the Berlin Wall that division (hence raison d’etre) no longer existed – to develop a global North-South axis for IIASA’s work.&nbsp;
We believed that was where the great challenges of tomorrow development debates as well as environmental concerns (including climate change) would play out. Towards that end, he was working with a range of Global South scholars and was very anxious to see if an IIASA-Nepal Social Science Baha/South Asia Institute for History and Philosophy collaboration could be developed.&nbsp;
Mike retained interest in Nepal’s developments up to his very end, even when on hospital bed, asking his daughter to find out from me what was going on with Nepal’s March elections that saw a seismic upheaval which decimated all the old political parties.&nbsp;
When Ursula described the gist to him, I am sure he was inwardly pleased that it vindicated Cultural Theory as Political Science’s contention that moral high ground activist egalitarianism not given proper place at the policy table can strike back at insensitive bureaucratic hierarchism and market individualism’s crony capitalism with swift and lethal vengeance.
Michael Thompson’s physical presence will be greatly missed, but his impact on interpretive social science – and its extremely relevant application to Nepal’s and other LDC’s developmental conflicts – will live on.
Dipak Gyawali is an energy economist with the Nepal Academy of Science and Technology (NAST). He is a former minister of water resources.&nbsp;
To listen to Michael Thomson’s lecture at Social Science Baha in 2011 <a href="https://soscbaha.org/lecture-series/cultural-theory-and-clumsiness-some-lessons-from-nepal/" target="_blank">click here.</a>