When Tsherin Sherpa was growing up, his grandmother told him tales about spirits that were attached to mountains and rivers. That bond with the spiritual resides deep within Sherpa’s psyche still, and informs his art to a large degree. After living and working painting thangkas professionally in the United States for 10 years, he realised that he wanted to use the skills he had developed after years in that rigid art form to paint in his own voice, and comment on personal, political, and social issues. “I saw exhibitions adapting traditional art techniques, and thought I could do something similar with thangka,” Sherpa told us in an interview at Takpa Gallery in Lazimpat, which is showing Spirits in Transition, his latest work. “I realized that I needed a secular form of art to communicate to a non-Buddhist, non-Nepali audience.” Sherpa returned to Nepal in 2018, and a lot had changed in the 20 years he had been away, and so had he. The changes in Nepal were both good and bad, but the artist decided to focus on the positive. He was commissioned by the Visit Nepal 2020 Campaign to make 108 larger-than-life fiberglass sculptures of the yeti mascot to be displayed in public places. But because of the pandemic, the Visit Nepal campaign was shelved. The yetis vanished, but not before stirring some controversy because some of them had religious motifs deemed to be irreverent. This was an attempt to create a buzz around Nepal's tourism by having a mascot, just like Berlin’s Buddy Bear, or the New York Cow Parade. But many Nepalis were not exactly ready for it. These days, many of Sherpa’s paintings and sculptures have the figures blowing pink bubble gum. Intrigued, we ask him about it. “It’s a small, modest object that can signify a lot,” he explains. “In my art it tells about the modern time, and also lends a certain playfulness to a rather serious art piece.” He adds, “Having said that, I love it when viewers relate to it in their own way. People see what they see: nobody’s perception of the art is valid or invalid.” Although rooted in Nepali and Tibetan devotional art, Sherpa’s work transcends cultures. It is as if the spirits travelled with the artist to the US, and returned after assimilating the new world. “In our generation, the West had a grandeur about it. We had limited media and no internet, and thought West was best,” he says. “What I found in the US was that many of my heroes, like George Lucas, were inspired by the East. I realised that I had been ignoring my own identity.” Sherpa noticed that the new generation already regarded all cultures, heritage and identity as being valuable, and none of them were superior to any other. “Look at any of my spirits,” he says. “You can see their posture. There’s a confidence, a self-pride in who they are.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5163" height="4313" loading="lazy" alt="Tsherin Sherpa"><figcaption>Photo: RICCARDO TOSETTO(Photo: Riccardo Tosetto)© Riccardo Tosetto Photography</figcaption></figure>  For the artist, this exhibition also represents a transition as he explores what creative arena he wants to pursue next. He says, “In Buddhism, when a person dies, there is a 49 day period called ‘bardo’ before the consciousness takes rebirth. This work is also a transition, like a layover on a long flight.” All of the paintings at the Spirits in Transition exhibition have already been booked, by the same collector. Each painting takes Sherpa about a week. He starts with a small drawing of a figure, and undertakes a rigorous step-by-step process, influenced by his thangka background. “Once I find a posture I like, I keep playing around,” he says. “Painting the pattern on the spirit takes at least four layers. The first is almost translucent, and each layer adds vibrancy and makes the colours pop. This is the most time consuming part. I add the bubblegum last.” And what’s with the fiery red hair? Sherpa remembers while learning the discipline of thangka, there were very strict, rigid rules. Every line had to be exactly how it should be. But with the bubble gum and red hair, he says he wants to explore an abstract, fluid aspect. Sherpa is drawing from a technique he first did in Grade 3: dipping a thread in ink or watercolour, and dragging it across the page. “It’s what I paint last, because the red hair has to be done in one stroke. You can’t make mistakes. There is no room for a correction.” The artist uses 3D generated models to decide on the postures, starting with a skeleton, and adding features to the shape. “I am very bad at drawing straight from imagination,” he adds, laughing. Despite modern elements in Sherpa’s work, keen viewers can detect elements of thangka painting: rocks, water, curly clouds. And all figures wear snake jewelry. In the context of a thangka painting, that represents conquering your anger. Tiger skins represent overcoming fear. “After I came back to Nepal, I started combining my protector series with the spirit. The meaning is: whatever we are on the outside, we carry an appreciation for our identity on the inside,” he says. He just follows his instincts when painting and lets his imagination take over. He says, “My style has emerged out of a collision of thangka, comics, and Bollywood. I read a lot of Marvel and DC when I was young, and hand-painted billboards of Bollywood movies at the movie theatre fascinated me." Spirits in Transition by Tsherin Sherpa Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat Until 29 December 11am-7pm (Friday to Sunday) 11am-6pm (Tuesday to Thursday)

Vishad Raj Onta

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Review

Tsherin Sherpa in body and spirit

Things are getting a little surreal in the Subcontinent. The erosion of regionalism is making South Asia an abstract concept. Which is perhaps what makes a new exhibition of expressionist art in Kathmandu so emblematic. Glimpses of the Mind: Surrealism and Abstract Expressionism in South Asian Art’ at The Kalā Salon in Thamel showcases a selection of outstanding surreal and abstract expressionist works by Nepali and Sri Lankan artists.&nbsp; “What you see is that painters from Nepal started exploring new impressionistic styles later in their careers, often after going abroad, especially to Europe,” says archivist-curator of the gallery, Chakshita Rana. Walking past paintings in the Glimpses of the Mind exhibition is like taking a series of Rorschach Tests. Stare at a painting long enough and the deep recesses of the mind stare back, the canvas morphs into hearts, trees, mountains, and wide-eyed, worried faces. The paintings are from the vast art collection of Pratima and Prithvi Pandé and the exhibition includes works by Nepali artists Jeevan Rajopadhyaya, Uttam Nepali, Sunil Sigdel, Manuj Babu Mishra, Ram KC, Kiran Manandhar, Sunita Rana, Shyam Lal Shrestha, Birendra Pratap Singh, Surendra Pradhan as well as Manoranjana Herath from Sri Lanka.&nbsp; While the paintings may not represent objective reality, they convey the murkier and more confusing parts of the universe and the mind. One painting shows a person in a yellow suit jumping over a cow with a purple mask, amidst a backdrop of a dark blue starry sky with a dark sun.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120612124_5a1945393bb3f542153421ae45cb350d48de0735605c973ebb8fae10b1490b48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120612124_5a1945393bb3f542153421ae45cb350d48de0735605c973ebb8fae10b1490b48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="South Asia in the abstract"> </figure>  This is one in the Surrealism category, an art movement that began a century ago largely out of Freud’s writings on dreams and the unconscious mind. Surrealist paintings feature real objects, often combined seemingly illogically with other bizarrely drawn objects. &nbsp; One of the most recognisable in this style is Salvador Dali’s ‘The Persistence of Memory’ with its iconic melting clocks. Indeed, one of the dreamlike pieces by Sunil Sigdel also has a clock in the background, although the primary focus is on two bald figures waist-deep in either muddy water or quicksand. One is blue with orange lips and the other is orange with blue lips, and both look quite distressed. Through its absurdity, surrealism made it okay to challenge the rigid notions regarding reality and of what art should be. Abstract Expressionism then came through in the 1940s and 50s, still featuring themes of the subconscious. But this style did away with any forms at all, and instead focused on spontaneity and emotion. “Paintings in these styles are expressive and individualistic,” explains The Kalā Salon founder Sophia L Pande. “The artist’s voice really jumps out, and they are often making a very personal or political statement.”&nbsp; Impressionistic paintings leave much more to the imagination of the viewer, although it is easier to guess what the artist has in mind in some paintings, more than others. One dark blue canvas by Uttam Nepali could be a skull, an alien or a dog. Another of Nepali’s paintings has shades of green, brown and orange that could be a tree, or an intense fire. The form is not as important here to interpret the work — more relevant is mood and choice of colour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120612124_4cbc05a47715e173fa5c85cef7a3a37141dda2c7494264e83b2bba9dac334b8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120612124_4cbc05a47715e173fa5c85cef7a3a37141dda2c7494264e83b2bba9dac334b8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="South Asia in the abstract"> </figure>  Kiran Manandhar’s paintings have his distinctive quick dry brushstrokes in vivid colours, and are all arranged in a row at the exhibition. Explains curator Rana: “We decided to put his paintings next to each other so that the evolution of his work stands out.”&nbsp; The paintings by Manoranjana Herath from Sri Lanka feature sharp geometric shapes, with lots of triangles and faces in green and blue — reminiscent of Picasso-esque cubism. The Kalā Salon is showing a larger exhibition of Herath’s work starting 13 December.&nbsp; “We are primarily a non-profit, and because of the depth of the collection we can regularly show works of many different Nepali artists, spanning a lot of genres and time periods,” says Pande. “Most exhibitions feature the work of only one artist, at one time in their lives. We hope to be a valuable resource and inspire new Nepali artists.” The gallery also sponsors three-month long residencies for promising artists twice a year. One male artist and one female are chosen, often self-taught or fresh out of a Bachelor's in Fine Arts. &nbsp;At the end, a show of their work is held at the Salon. Three such rounds have been held so far, and the first cohort for 2025 has already been selected.&nbsp; Says Pande, “We are committed to giving these talented young artists a start and exposure in art, and a chance to become immediately self-sustaining.” The Kalā Salon&nbsp; Chhaya Center Mall, Aloft Hotel 11am-8pm&nbsp; Till 10 December

South Asia in the abstract

At the age of five, Dorjee Karmarong fell sick and his local healer-slash-thangka painter cut him a deal: in exchange for treatment, the young patient had to promise to become a painter. The shaman may have been joking, but 38 years later, Karmarong is a successful international artist, and now has a solo exhibition at the Siddhartha Art Gallery. ‘Karmarong: Hidden Valley in the Himalayas’ is a collection of 27 paintings spread across two floors that give the viewer a comprehensive feel for life among the Karmarong community in the remote Mugu district of Karnali. Karmarong has a distinctive style featuring clean outlines, vibrant colours and detailed natural landscapes. Animals, mountains, trees, and the sun and the moon appear constantly. It is a style that took 20 years to perfect, as the painter practised teaching in monasteries of Bangladesh, India, Singapore, and most recently in Vietnam. Mugu is one of the remotest districts in Nepal, but the Karmarong community of about 3,000 people live in about a dozen small villages in the remotest northern corner of the district near the Chinese border. They speak their own dialect. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-present-meets-the-past">The present meets the past</a>, Pinki Sris Rana  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_46339bbefd7b9007dedde289f8c4db9980a60e19ab5a7e0c11c5f1ba4817ba68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241004111032_46339bbefd7b9007dedde289f8c4db9980a60e19ab5a7e0c11c5f1ba4817ba68" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT 1"></figure>  Some of the paintings show general goings-on in Karmarong, such as harvest time. ‘The Hospitality of Karmarong’ shows residents gathering to formally welcome an important guest. “In front is someone who is still lucky to have both parents,” explains the painter. ‘Magic of Milarepa’ is a closeup of a grey, cracked yak horn on the floor. There is water on the ground next to the horn, and inside is a green-skinned monk, meditating in robes. “Milarepa was travelling with one of his students in Tibet, who was starting to act a little arrogant. They were suddenly caught up in a storm, and the saint shrank himself and sheltered in the horn, humbling his disciple,” Karmarong explains. Yaks are a constant feature in the exhibition, and the painter Karmarong has given them sentient eyes, with emotions like anger, introspection, suspicion, and even wide-eyed and crazed. “I was once told to study as voraciously as a yak grazes,” says Karmarong. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/human-spiritual-existence-in-a-digital-ecosystem">Human spiritual existence in a digital ecosystem</a>, Kashish Das Shrestha  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_271aba25a6f1eb642433ef504880407a9b36fea72a85e793a6d70e12299d9274.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241004111032_271aba25a6f1eb642433ef504880407a9b36fea72a85e793a6d70e12299d9274" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="3600" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT 1"></figure>  In the middle of ‘The Dance of the Elements’ is a face that is half yellow and half black holding a cigarette around which is coiled a multi-headed serpent. “Thia represents our animal impulses,” Karmarong explains. “It is about how nature makes beautiful things. But when humans tamper with it, something usually goes wrong.” Other pieces are even more abstract. ‘Mandala Fragment’ shows geometric shapes in vibrant colours. Says Karmarong: “It may seem chaotic to a viewer, but I can step back and see something different.” Behind Karmarong’s extraordinary skill and output is a rare life lived in harmony with fate. Even his birth was auspicious: Karmarong was born in a cave to parents returning from working in Himachal Pradesh in India on the eve of Buddha Purnima and Thursday. By age seven Karmarong’s father took him to a cave to learn Tibetan. At 13, the boy was sent to a monastery in Kathmandu and after six years he decided to pursue painting and became an apprentice to master thangka artist Palden. Karmarong trained intensively under the rigid rules of thangka painting. He then met Tenzin Norbu from Dolpo, who helped develop his spiritual connection to art. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/turning-legends-into-games">Turning legends into games</a>, Vishad Raj Onta  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004111032_3f2d5f809a4230bbee885a2832c2e6872b743343581a96d177fae87885759d76.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004111032_3f2d5f809a4230bbee885a2832c2e6872b743343581a96d177fae87885759d76" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1412" loading="lazy" alt="Dorjee Karmarong NT"></figure>  As Karmarong developed artistically and spiritually, he saw art as a fulfilment of his karma. “I started feeling that, in a past life, I had been a yogi who had wanted to build a monastery but couldn’t find an artist,” he says. The yogi committed to a life of dharma to be reborn as an artist. Indeed, there are records of a yogi from Karmarong region named Jimpa Therchan, who struggled with building a monastery and was also a renowned poet and singer. Karmarong also sings, and has written ‘Turquoise Mountain: A Folktale of the Karmarong.’ The titles of the paintings are evocative: ‘Yak’s Reprieve’, ‘Echoes of the Sacred Route’, ‘The Black Yak’s Grace’, or 'The Yak and His Young Keeper.' He is also a YouTuber and his channel has singing performances, rap songs and travel vlogs. Karmarong has depicted his village as a religious, harmonious Shangri-La, although it leaves the viewer a little curious about the darker realities of the place like Milarepa’s own murky past. Karmarong has perhaps consciously or unconsciously woven his own life into the paintings: stories and destinies that translate into the real world. They show travellers leaving from or returning to Karmarong the place, or going on a pilgrimage, reflecting the artist’s own artistic, spiritual and religious journey that has taken him back to his roots. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/mask">MASK</a>, Sonia Awale ‘Karmarong: Hidden Valley in the Himalayas’ Dorjee Karmarong Siddhartha Art Gallery

Karmarong in Karmarong

The Imadol neighbourhood of Kathmandu Valley was among the worst hit by last weekend’s devastating floods. The Manohara River, swollen by incessant rainfall, overflowed into the settlements along its banks. A photograph taken by French anthropologist Corneille Jest in monsoon 1972 shows the Manohara meandering across a wide plain, its banks lush with ripening paddy. Two farmers cross the field carrying a kharpan, a sturdy traditional bamboo basket carried on shoulders, that has almost vanished from the Valley today. It is a tranquil view of a once-emerald Valley and its unique civilisation that blended urban living with intense agriculture on the fertile topsoil. Gazing at these images shows us the life and times of Old Nepal. This and other photographs taken by Jest during his research in Nepal’s Dolpo and Kathmandu 60 years ago are a reminder of how much in Nepal has changed, and what remains the same. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-passage-of-time-in-photos">Kathmandu’s passage of time in photos</a>, Ashish Dhakal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024100505108_e5eae5b7745301134e49b009d519326ea826f2e11c76b33aa63ea13734fa9d2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An anthropologist's perspective of Nepal"> <figcaption>Offering a prayer flag at a pass above Tukuche in 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  Jest visited Nepal every other year since 1960, and the exhibition itself shows us the passage of time -- it is aesthetic and evocative, a lament and sometimes deeply nostalgic.&nbsp; The exhibition is organised by Mémoires de l’Himalaya, a French association that works to preserve works on the trans-Himalayan region. Jest was a prolific photographer and out of the 45,000 negatives in his collection, &nbsp;almost 100 black and white and colour prints were selected for this exhibition at the Patan Museum. “The data researchers collect rarely helps the community being studied.. So, it was Jest's idea and ours as an organisation to give back, what we can, to the local community,” says Rémi Chaix of Mémoires de l’Himalaya, who is also one of the curators. “The field notes taken by Jest can also be accessed.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241004091020_eb98695b6253e9dde6f051b24596bc09060834bdba1219b9cff2ac080540c63c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="3000" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Members of the Tarap community at Dolpo's Drolma Pass during their pilgrimage to the Buddha-ri sacred mountain in 1960.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Curated by Fernand Meyer, Kunsang Namgyal-Lama and Chaix, the first floor of the museum showcases photographs of Kathmandu Valley and the second floor is dedicated to Dolpo, especially Tarap Valley where Jest spent most of his time. This curatorial choice of placing the photographs of a place in a specific floor is important, allowing viewers to keep the two worlds separate. The photographs on the first floor are exclusive and published for the first time. There is also an 11 minute documentary on loop that captures the 1968 Seto Machhindranath festival. One does not just get to see this era but even hear its sounds. Photos of Dolpo on the second floor show how little the landscape and dwellings of this remote region has changed in the past decades, although with the road now reaching the district it will inevitably undergo rapid transformation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-an-archivist">Memories of an archivist</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241004091020_ae632fde3aac88ac90bad7e348904446b10b793d650d7bfc4a2f7a977f6f84cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="884" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Attendees at a Buddhist ritual, Tarap, 1963.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the Dolpo photographs have already been published in Jest’s books like ‘Tales of The Turquoise: A Pilgrimage in Dolpo’. “Jest had a habit of clicking the same image twice. One would be in black and white and the other would be in colour,” explains Chaix who along with other two curators had to decide which would be a better fit for the exhibit. Jest’s photos of Dolpo are intimate and let the audience peek into the Himalayan lifestyle at the time. Researching about the Himalayan people and the culture while living in Tarap Valley, Jest developed a particular affinity for Dolpo, shares Guillaume Jest, one of Corneille’s sons, who was here at the inauguration of the exhibition.&nbsp; “I think that my father’s fondness for the population of Dolpo and their religion and culture comes from the fact that they build their way of life in a very harsh but breathtaking world of the high valleys of the Himalayas,” says Guillaume. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/adventures-of-a-lone-archivist">Adventures of a lone archivist</a>, Alisha Sijapati  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241004091020_6cba26cf4cd2c38db65a4b00966f58ed87d46de3e01c8927f6ac1d8d3f5cadc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1666" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> <figcaption>Terraced maize and paddy fields during the 1972 monsoon at Imadol, which has been built over and was submerged on 28 September.Corneille Jest - Mémoires de l'Himalaya</figcaption> </figure>  Being an anthropologist, Jest’s focus is always on the people he encounters and the landscape or architecture being props. This is a rich visual documentation of what people wore, what they ate, what the houses looked like, their daily work in the fields, the harvest process, cultural rituals and celebrations. “Corneille Jest’s photographs give us a rare insight into the everyday life, culture, and landscapes of Nepal during a pivotal period in the country’s history, just after its opening to the rest of the world. They reveal the depth and diversity of Nepali culture,” says Virginie Corteval, French Ambassador to Nepal, who opened the exhibition last week. She adds: “These represent a testimony of the important work by pioneer French researchers such as Corneille Jest or Sylvain Lévi, in studying the diversity of the Nepali civilisation.” &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/an-archive-of-nepali-heritage">An archive of Nepali heritage</a>, Ashish Dhakal <h2>Lalita Niwas 60 years ago</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241004091020_72859aaf3e5f323bfce71e7adb8ba84fe1016e7e7323b4b3458570be22572146" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="An Anthropologist's Early Glimpses of Nepal NT"> </figure>  The Lalita Niwas Land grab scandal is making headlines today, and has implicated the high and mighty of the land. But few know what the original palace of Subarna Shumsher Rana looked like. Corneille Jest’s aerial photograph in 1963 of the neoclassical palace gives us an idea of the grandeur and size of the complex that spread over a 7 hectare plot in Baluwatar. After the property was nationalised during the Panchayat, it has been fragmented, bought and sold numerous times. The scandal has put 18 of the 310 individuals charged behind bars. The building now houses the Nepal Rastra Bank.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19789#.YX-e4S8w3u0">The first photographs of us</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit An Anthropologist’s Early Glimpses of Nepal 10AM-6PM Till 18 October Patan Museum

Pinki Sris Rana

The present meets the past

Nepali activist Radha Paudel who works on dignified menstruation through her foundation shows in her new book just how pervasive menstrual discrimination is around the world.&nbsp;
Menstrual Stories: An Anthology from Global South is replete with tales of stigma, taboo, mockery, disrespect, shame, teasing, bullying by boys that persists.&nbsp;
Radha Paudel is a nurse who has worked in government hospitals across Nepal, and wrote an harrowing account about being caught up in the Maoist attack on Jumla in 2002. She turned into a dignified menstruation activist because of the discrimination and ostracisation she herself faced while growing up in Chitwan.
She established the Global South Coalition for Dignified Menstruation and Radha Paudel Foundation which hosted a six-month virtual fellowship in 2023 with participants from Austria, Bangladesh, Costa Rica, Malawai, Nepal, Nigeria, the Philippines, Sri Lanka, and the UK.&nbsp;
The book is an outcome of those interactions where campaigners across the world spoke about their own experiences of having their first periods, the reaction of their families, school mates and peers.
A thread running through all the stories is that no matter where in the world women are, rich countries or poor, North or South, educated or uneducated, menstrual taboos persist to a greater or lesser degree.
There are stories of girls not telling their parents because the first bleeding was “too sensitive”, the restrictions on the freedom of young women by family members, schools not teaching reproductive health with accuracy and the right values.
In one school in Dhaka, biology text books had the chapter on sexual reproduction stapled shut. Many young men in Colombia’s conservative Catholic families even refused to answer questions in a survey about menstruation, and some confused menstruation with masturbation.
In Nepal, the lack of separate restrooms for girls in schools and shame about menstruation has contributed to the high female dropout rate after Grade 5. The practice of chhaupadi in western Nepal is an extreme form of menstrual banishment.&nbsp;
Paudel does not like the word chhaupadi because it is “too neutral”, and does not convey the discrimination.
The books also has examples of women across the world resisting the stigma and taboos, and spreading awareness.&nbsp;
A marathon runner in the UK recently ran without pads and ‘let the blood flow freely’. A Chinese athlete who won a medal at an international sports event was frank in her answer to a question from the media about her performance: she said she was having her periods.
Writes Laura Contreras-Aristizabal from Colombia: “It is ironic that despite the fact that more than half of the world’s population is made up of women and menstruating individuals, menstruation is still stigmatized and a taboo subject.”
We know there are even more serious problems of female genital mutilation in some parts of the world. But for the more pervasive and persistent occurrence of menstural discrmination, this slim volume offers practical solutions in schools and society to ensure a more dignified approach to accepting the monthly biological cycle in women without stigma.&nbsp;

Menstruation is normal, period

On 16 September, the iconic grand steps of <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/">The Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met)</a> in New York had all the signs of closing time: hot dog vendors were packing up for the day, visitors were taking their final selfies, and Museum security had informed the skateboarders to wrap up using the steps as a ramp.&nbsp; The Met was in fact preparing for a special after-hours occasion: the pre-opening reception of its exhibition ‘<a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/mandalas-mapping-the-buddhist-art-of-tibet">MANDALAS: Mapping The Buddhist Art of Tibet</a>’ curated by <a href="https://metmuseum.academia.edu/KurtBehrendt">Kurt Behrendt</a>, the museum’s Associate Curator of South Asian Art. Anchoring the show is the installation ‘Biography of a Thought’, by 42-year-old Kathmandu-born artist <a href="https://www.artbasel.com/stories/tenzing-rigdol-artist-portrait?lang=en">Tenzing Rigdol</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926060912_5bc8e982c84d159c52c7348e8c8d86bb6ae07d611896c2ae10357fa115f61757.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240926060912_5bc8e982c84d159c52c7348e8c8d86bb6ae07d611896c2ae10357fa115f61757" data-rendition-name="original" width="1875" height="2500" loading="lazy" alt="Tenzing Rigdol MET NT"> </figure>  As the world hunkered down in 2020 due to Covid, Rigdol spent the lockdowns traversing history, philosophy, Buddhist teachings and art, letting it all seep into the innermost corners of his mind and allowing it to shape what would be one of his largest and most important undertakings.&nbsp; Two years ago he was still working out his final processes in Kathmandu before putting acrylic on canvas, testing over 30 shades of blue. In his studio in Boudha, he had said: “I am finally happy with a couple of the colours, it is very important that I get it right.”&nbsp; Finally, earlier this year, the artworks arrived at The Met. In August, the artist posted an announcement of his upcoming exhibition on his social media platforms. Upon entering The MET’s Gallery 963, the Robert Lehman Wing in an atrium, visitors have multiple vantage points for an overhead view of the exhibition. Awash in natural light from the soaring glass ceiling above, guests are greeted with a panoramic view of Rigdol’s Biography of a Thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024092606098_53bde372631f4344b65c6d1408b410c0dcc125a162ace705ec09cb7b67775a64.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024092606098_53bde372631f4344b65c6d1408b410c0dcc125a162ace705ec09cb7b67775a64" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="4032" loading="lazy" alt="Tenzing Rigdol MET NT"> <figcaption>Photo: KASHISH DAS SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  It is bold in both scale and concept. The 21 canvases add up to nearly 95 sq m of painted work. An additional 100 sq m of handwoven Tibetan carpet is part of the installation, for which Rigdol collaborated with Mt Refuge as the fabricators.&nbsp; Rigdol’s 2014 body of work, ‘My World Is Your Blind Spot’, consisted of five 1 m panels using silk, Buddhist scriptures, photographs, and focused on the issue of self-immolation. In 2011, after covertly transporting over twenty tons of soil from Tibet to Dharamshala, India, he created a three-day site specific installation work titled Our Land, Our People so visitors could walk on Tibetan soil again and later take home small packets of it. To enter this exhibition is to enter Tenzing Rigdol’s mind. It is a large mandala and the only way to to view it is to look at it from above or actually enter and walk through it. Art came to Rigdol early in life after he was awarded at age six by Queen Aishwarya. His artwork were bought for carpet designs when he was still a young boy. As a teenager, he grew up admiring the works of contemporary Nepali artists.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926060912_1cf34be9eebab5a264672982c200ae5bea3c07e34905cee49d794efde352d872.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240926060912_1cf34be9eebab5a264672982c200ae5bea3c07e34905cee49d794efde352d872" data-rendition-name="original" width="674" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Tenzing Rigdol MET NT"> <figcaption>Rigdol at six accepting an award from Queen Aishwarya. Photo courtesy of Tenzing Rigdol.</figcaption> </figure>  “I can’t begin to express the love and respect I have for Nepal’s artists,” he tells us in New York. “But Indra Pradhan holds a special place in my heart. The first art exhibition I ever went to was his.” At age 15 in 1997, Rigdol actually won the Indra Pradhan Memorial Inter-School Painting Competition in Kathmandu. He earned a BFA at the University of Colorado Denver in art history of the world, but realised in college that there was so much to first learn about art in Tibet and Nepal. Rigdol was using a book of Tibetan art for show and tell in class, when his professor asked him about some of the work. He was unable to satisfactorily answer them, and found this gap in his own &nbsp;knowledge and skill unacceptable to himself. He returned to Kathmandu to the Tibetan Thangka Art School, and learnt about sand painting and butter sculpture at Shekar Chorten Monastery. In the last two decades, Rigdol has emerged as one of the world’s top contemporary Tibetan artists and thinkers, helping redefine contemporary Tibetan art. He also mentored many of the movement’s well known artists early in their careers, connecting them with international representatives, curators and collectors alike.&nbsp; His work has been exhibited in museums and galleries around the world and are in private and museum collections. In 2014, he became the first Tibetan artist whose ‘<a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/623093" target="_blank">Pin drop silence: Eleven-headed Avalokiteshvara</a>’ (Ink, pencil, acrylic, and pastel on paper) was added to the Permanent Collection of The MET. It was his layered and intricate work 233x125 cm. Last year the University of Colorado awarded Tenzing Rigdol an honorary doctorate. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/48Zsiof6MM0?si=Kjgw653xweFbUwIh" 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>Video: KASHISH DAS SHRESTHA</div> Rigdol’s art is a seamless combination of the masterful skill of a thangka artist, the mind of a scholar, a philosophical provocateur, with the instinct and courage of a rebel and the fierce vision of a creative force. Even if one were to not dive into the depths of his art, the powerful visual aesthetics and hints of their deeper meaning can leave viewers impressed and overwhelmed.&nbsp; Biography Of A Thought marks an unprecedented historic moment for artists from Nepal and the Himalayan region and places Rigdol as one of the most important and thought provoking contemporary artists from Asia of this time. At the pre-opening reception, Rigdol's mother Dolma Tsering wandered through her son's installation. "I knew it would be good," she exclaimed. "But this is beyond even my expectations."  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240926060912_9ac2c141dda3c91f42946df8be7032691b2de04e99f23fa94340e4bbe7f34f6b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240926060912_9ac2c141dda3c91f42946df8be7032691b2de04e99f23fa94340e4bbe7f34f6b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3024" height="4032" loading="lazy" alt="Tenzing Rigdol MET NT"> <figcaption>Tenzing Rigdol with his mother at the MET. Photo: KASHISH DAS SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/mandalas-mapping-the-buddhist-art-of-tibet">MANDALAS: Mapping The Buddhist Art of Tibet</a> The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Till 12 January, 2025 Watch artist Tenzing Rigdol discuss his installation Biography Of A Thought: &nbsp;<a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/perspectives/videos/2024/9/rigdol-interview" target="_blank">https://www.metmuseum.org/perspectives/videos/2024/9/rigdol-interview</a>&nbsp; Overview <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/mandalas-mapping-the-buddhist-art-of-tibet" target="_blank">from The MET </a>While drawing on Buddhist ideas, practices, and artistic formats seen in the surrounding galleries, Tenzing Rigdol’s installation presents our world from a secular perspective. Moving clockwise from left, paintings address the ecosystem and human behaviour, conflict and aggression, and virtue juxtaposed with the illusory world and the digital age. On the final wall, the waves quiet, and we are invited to consider our relationship to the whole. Lines running through the sky speak to the underlying structure of Tibetan Buddhist paintings, while clouds represent thoughts and the churning ocean emotion. The repeated figure of the artist, with a cloth-wrapped head symbolising the limits of his own understanding, guides us through the work. A carpet woven by hand, a tradition that Rigdol’s family participated in as refugees, leads to a composition at the atrium’s centre that explores interdependency.

Human spiritual existence in a digital ecosystem

The Nepali art scene is seeing a surge of interest in performance art. However, it is not a novelty because of its origins in the blend of painting, theatre, and poetry. Interdisciplinary artists like Jivan Acharya, Ashmina Ranjit, <a href="https://salil.blog/music-portfolio/">Salil Subedi</a>, and Mahima Singh have used blended art forms to draw attention to socio-political issues such as state violence, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-struggles-to-balance-nature-and-industry">exploitation of natural resources</a>, and gender inequality. In 2014, Amrit Karki, a fine arts student at Kathmandu University, put together a 13-minute showpiece Fire and Ice at the Taragaon Museum in which he cut off locks of his hair and burnt them on a singing bowl in a visceral depiction of personal attachment and abandonment. “At the time, I was researching and exploring different trends in contemporary art. I was deeply struck by <a href="https://www.guggenheim.org/artwork/11412">Francis Alÿs and his ‘When Faith Moves Mountains’ </a>and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2023/sep/25/marina-abramovics-shocking-rhythm-0-performance-shows-why-we-still-cannot-trust-people-in-power">Marina Abramović and her ‘Rhythm Zero’.</a> I realised that art could move beyond the confines of a painting,” explains Karki. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-karnali-on-canvas">The Karnali on canvas</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Over the years, Pokhara native Karki has continued to explore this idea further. In his fifth performance art titled<a href="https://www.amritkarki.com.np/2023/03/blog-post.html"> Breathing Through the Stillness</a> in 2022, Karki stood still for more than four hours as masons constructed a brick wall around his body.&nbsp; The audience stood and watched as the bricklayers mixed cement, measured the alignments of the bricks, and stacked the bricks. In the end, the newly-constructed brick wall fell behind Karki as he walked out. Karki’s latest work ‘What You Have Given Me, I Set Free Forever’ at the Nepal Art Council last week was a part of the Rubin Museum’s exhibition ‘Reimagine: Himalayan Art Now’, and Abramović was one of the co-curators. <a href="https://hbr.org/2016/11/marina-abramovi">Abramović</a>, a Serbian conceptual and performance artist, is famous for probing the relationship between performer and audience along with experimentation of endurance art. Karki’s new work, unsurprisingly, has the audience actively participating in the making of art. The room was warm and stuffy, there was no ventilation in the wide, white-walled room. In the middle was a skeletal dome-like structure made of copper arcs that converged to form a space for an upside down receptacle.&nbsp; A giant copper water storage drum nearby contained dyed water maintained at room temperature. It was colourless the first day, yellow the second, green the third, blue the fourth and then finally red. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal's new generation of alternative artists</a>, Ashish Dhakal From 12PM to 6PM every day for the duration of the performance, Karki wore a white shirt and pants and sat on a raised copper pedestal and a white cushion just below the receptacle which had a hole on its tip.&nbsp; The audience could take a jug of water from the drum and fill the receptacle so that a steady stream of dyed water poured on Karki’s head, cascading down his body, and staining his white shirt and pants. The deliberate choice of the dye colours mimicked the pattern of<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lets-only-buy-bio-degradable-prayer-flags"> prayer flags</a> which in turn symbolises the five elements: air, space, fire, water, and earth. The artist's statement that how “viewers will witness the gradual accumulation of everything the artist has accepted from them and set free forever” suggests the influence of the Buddhist philosophy of letting go of earthly burdens and belongings.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240925110928_90381a95c139fa3a9e0f92a9dcbbf2592bcba5eb337521d69c29a561502e1aa9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240925110928_90381a95c139fa3a9e0f92a9dcbbf2592bcba5eb337521d69c29a561502e1aa9" data-rendition-name="original" width="5137" height="3425" loading="lazy" alt="Amrit Karki's performance art "> <figcaption>Photo: Sumit Dangol</figcaption> </figure>  “Having the chance to discuss my performance art with her was a grateful experience. Even a small comment from her helped illuminate the impact of my performance art,” says Karki of Abramović who has been a constant inspiration for the artist. Karki often embraced himself. His right arm caresses his left shoulder, rubbing it, and after six hours of sitting still under the stream of water, his body looks stiff and tense.&nbsp; His chest area and the cushion on which he sat was stained dark green. His long hair had been tied into a bun which the stream of water hit. If no one filled the receptacle, Karki’s shirt would remain unstained.&nbsp; While the performance does nudge viewers to pour the water on the receptacle as a “visual reminder of the things that daily pollute and burden the mind”, the act of doing so also raises a moral question: how fair is it for someone to hand over one’s burdens onto others? Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/all-the-world-is-a-stage-in-kathmandu">All the world is a stage in Kathmandu</a>, Sewa Bhattarai&nbsp; The interval between visitors felt empty, everyone in the room waited with bated breath as Karki stared ahead, his eyes vacant, but they were also periods of respite.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240925110928_c5f06447c7553f0e104ccb05423ea2e62cfb2fda21d5b935ac01b22a19f9b7b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20240925110928_c5f06447c7553f0e104ccb05423ea2e62cfb2fda21d5b935ac01b22a19f9b7b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4821" height="3214" loading="lazy" alt="Amrit Karki's performance art"> <figcaption>Photo: Kripa Shakya</figcaption> </figure>  Sitting still for six hours a day while a stream of water is poured on top of your head must test the limits of human endurance. At one point, Karki raised his right foot and rested it gently on top of his left foot. The soles of his feet were also lightly stained green. “The extent and impact of audience participation depends upon the idea and concept of the creators but it is when audiences are allowed to participate that the performance art becomes stronger,” says Karki. “On the last day, the receptacle was almost always filled through the day. The more people felt connected with my performance, the more they participated.”

Performing art that sets us free

In the middle of a rainstorm, surrounded by forests and temples, Jung Bahadur faces off against the fearsome masked Lakhe Aju in a boss scene in the new Nepali video game, Jange. Wild red hair thrashing about, eyes glowing, Lakhe Aju pursues Jung Bahadur, who is dressed in a red shirt, blue cape, and a bird of paradise shripech crown. Jung is trying to avoid taking damage, while getting some hits of his own on the mythical demon. The Lakhe hurls fireballs that have to be dodged.&nbsp; The larger story at play here is a fictional, extrapolated historical Nepal where the country is under attack by infected aliens. Jung Bahadur, on horseback, wields a sword against the invaders.&nbsp; This is digital artist Ashim Shakya’s newest video game project that uses interactive gaming visuals to bring alive Nepali history and culture. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240923140924_82e368d0acd6eb89202124df358ab76e582b6e61efe5cafe56d85c44ad96ad28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240923140924_82e368d0acd6eb89202124df358ab76e582b6e61efe5cafe56d85c44ad96ad28" data-rendition-name="original" width="2250" height="2079" loading="lazy" alt="Ashim Shakya | Allare NT"> </figure>  It is a work in progress, and we find Shakya working solo in constructing the game, integrating his many interests and talents in digital art, 3D modelling, music, video, and game development. It has been six years since he started the Jange project, and he documents recent progress on his YouTube. When he prepares a new aspect of the game, like vehicles, earthquakes or the Lakhe fight scene, Shakya uploads the sequence. “As the protector of Kathmandu Valley, Lakhe Aju is patrolling the borders of his domain and tests Jange’s might to decide whether to bless or devour him,” Shakya explains.&nbsp; Even Jange is a detour from another more lengthy, complex project called Allare, which translates to ‘directionless bum’ or words to that effect.&nbsp; Shakya explains: “Allare is about a young man who gets into a lot of trouble in his village and moves to old Kathmandu, where he must dabble in crime and struggle in order to shape up.”&nbsp; Allare is set in Kathmandu Valley in the 1960s, and has period visual elements like vintage blue jeeps, rattly buses, bicycles, and dirtbikes. Characters in the game are clad in traditional wear, and will talk to the player in Nepali when approached.&nbsp; A drunk character named Twake occasionally spews slurs, threats and starts fights. Shakya experimentally leveraged his YouTube audience to voice the drunk character, and received many &nbsp;enthusiastic submissions.&nbsp; It is obvious from the gameplay that a lot of effort has gone into it, and this is even more striking because Shakya is working on it all by his lonely self.&nbsp; “It is easier for me to do all the parts myself, instead of explaining what I want to someone else,” says Shakya, who used to be better known as a Nepali pioneer in digital art.&nbsp; Shakya puts in 16-18 hour days, breaking only to eat or to stretch. "Coffee helps, and if I hit a creative block I switch attention to making music, or to do client work.”&nbsp; Shakya is self-taught in skills and software tools in his workflow. He uses Maya and Nomad Sculpt to make the 3D models, then Photoshop and Procreate for their textures, and Unreal Engine and Blueprints for programming and game logic. Shakya draws from his previous experience in game development, having published on Google Play Store for Android devices. One of them is titled Flight: The Valley, described as ‘an offline meditative flying adventure’ where a player can become a monk that turns into a raven in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Two other games, Didi and Urban Legends - Survival, are also exploratory 3D games that feature models of Nepali buildings and objects. Urban Legends, in particular, is available for free, has registered over 100,000 downloads and has earned a 4.0 star rating. &nbsp; Jange and Allare will be released first on PC and then perhaps adapted to console and &nbsp;mobile. Given Shakya’s artistic skill set, his ability to integrate them, the time and effort he has put in, and his approach to story and community engagement means aficionados here and abroad can soon play exciting games that also pay tribute to the legends of old Kathmandu. &nbsp;

Turning legends into games

Halucha is a carpenter living a happy life with his big family in Kathmandu’s Maru Hiti in the 1960s handcrafting chairs, tables and temple woodwork. He observes festivals of his Newa community including <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yenya</a>, Indra Jatra, enjoys his favourite choila baji and with friends, and occasionally momocha. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1833" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT2"> </figure>  But then a big new furniture factory is set up nearby, which takes away the jobs of those with the ancestral occupation of carpentry. Halucha loses his customers.&nbsp; One thing leads to another and by the 1970s, Halucha travels to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">England for work</a> after borrowing money at a high interest rate. London is rainy and dreary, he struggles with the language and at his job. He has no friends, people look at him differently and treat him poorly. He feels lonely and homesick. The isolation affects his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-other-pandemic-mental-health">mental health</a> and before long, he loses his job and is homeless.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT3"> </figure>  Author Ojesh Singh weaves a layered tale that delves into the universal themes of migration, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">diaspora</a>, mental health, racism, heritage and identity in simple, engaging storytelling style with vibrant illustrations by Sahanshil Dangol in the new Nepali children’s book, London Lakhey. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/brain-gain-into-brain-drain">Brain gain into brain drain</a>, Sonia Awale “Children are smarter than we give them credit for, they have genuine reactions and responses, and the earlier they are exposed to difficult emotions, the sooner they will learn to express them openly and grow up better able to deal with them,” says Dangol on some of the heavier themes underlying London Lakhey. Indeed, as children’s literature, the book does not shy away from difficult topics. This was a very conscious choice, says Singh, who himself went to England in 1999 and is now an aerospace engineer running two restaurants specialising in Newa cuisine in London. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/passing-the-baton-on">The Unstoppables</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar&nbsp; “The story is inspired by some of my own experience when I moved to England and that of people close to me, the not-so-easy beginning, the loneliness,” adds Singh, who is in Kathmandu to launch the book.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1141" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT"> </figure>  “The first thing we Nepalis seek abroad is a plate of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dal-bhat-power">warm dal bhat</a> and not getting that can be so hard, then there are our festivals, dance and music that we miss so much.” Singh had it relatively easy as his father was already in the UK. But even then, he had to support himself and for the first five years he studied by day, while working at a restaurant at night. Finally, he bought his own restaurant, and another one a few years later. He calls them “Nepali-Indian” restaurants but actually specialise in Newa food, the first of few in the London area. “I do a lot of work virtually so the restaurant for me is like a living room and it is as if I am cooking for my friends and family, it keeps me feeling alive,” says Singh, whose clan home is in Basantapur. He is actively involved in the Pasa Pucha Guthi in London as one of the founding member since its inception in 2000. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">Nepalis in the Garden of England</a>, Joy Stephens The Newa-English community in London organises cultural events including performing the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-spirit-that-is-fire">Lakhey mask dance</a> during Mha Puja, also the Newari New Year. This real-life tradition in London serves as an inspiration for the book. “The new generation of Nepali diaspora should know the struggles of their parents, what they went through, some were asylum seekers, others came for better opportunities,” says Singh, stating how this was one of the ideas behind the book, especially as he is himself a father now. A mutual contact brought animator and illustrator Sahanshil Dangol onboard for the book, and the two would go on to work closely for the nearly two years it took for the volume to develop. Dangol works for London-based studios and was previously involved in making commercials and music videos for up-and- coming Nepali artists like Yugal Gurung and Ankit Shrestha.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-a-london-nepali-hangout">Memories of a London Nepali hangout</a>, Sunil Pun But what really got him passionate about the book project was the Lakhey element. During his undergrad, Dangol was working on a film to document his cousin’s mask dances in Pokhara but had to shelve it. He has since come across the Nepali Creative Gang, an online collective of artists, writers, game developers, animators and others which helps young talent with guidance and feedback as well as protection for their work. Dangol went on to develop a 4-minute-long stop motion film called Death and Exposure but he always had the Lakhey project at the back of his mind. “It felt like a second chance to work on something close to my heart,” he told Nepali Times in a video interview from London. It also helped that the characters spoke to him. Having moved to London at 11 following his father who was in the army, Dangol never felt like he quite fit in, neither in London, nor in Kathmandu. “Growing up, I didn’t have Nepali friends, and in any case, I didn’t feel like I completely belonged anywhere, and while I didn’t go through everything that Halucha went through in the story, I could still resonate with the character and sympathise with him, it is a relatable story with so many of our friends and families migrating today.” Dangol based the physical attributes of Halucha and other characters on people around him. The last few pages of the book are dedicated to the process of illustration including doodles and sketched studies of Lakhey and his masks. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/getting-behind-the-divine-mask">Getting behind the divine mask</a> The Lakhey mask depicted in the book is a variation of the real thing which is supposed to give devotees divine powers when they wear them. In fact, communities in Kathmandu did not want their actual mask to be represented in the book for fear of offending the deities.&nbsp; Lakhey is a demon in the carnival of God but is worshipped as a deity protecting townspeople of the Newa civilisation. He is depicted as having a ferocious face, protruding fangs, and a mane of red or black hair.&nbsp; During festivals including Indra Jatra which falls on 17 September this year (below), he comes out on the streets and dances in a trance whirling and jumping to the thump of drums.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2170" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 4"> </figure>  On the surface, London Lakhey is a children’s book but since its release, it has found as many adolescent and adult readers who have requested most copies, says Dangol. “I want our children to remember their roots and not be ashamed of it. They can so easily feel embarrassed because they are eating dal bhat for lunch and not burgers and pizza,” says Singh.&nbsp; “We have to own up to our roots but we don’t have to stick to one singular identity either, it can be a mix of Newa and British like in my own persona. This is important for stability and a peace of mind.” ­­  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 5"> </figure>

Sonia Awale

MASK

For the Sherpa people who live below Mt Everest, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/margins/songs-from-chomolungma">Chomolungma </a>means ‘mother god’. And as a young girl growing up below it, Lhakpa Sherpa gazed up at the mountain with awe and reverence.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/pasang-lhamu-sherpa-the-film">Pasang Lhamu Sherpa</a> was the first Nepali woman to reach the summit in 1993, but she died on the way down. Lhakpa remembers the funeral in Kathmandu, and says she sensed Pasang Lhamu’s soul enter her at the cremation.&nbsp; Since then, Lhakpa holds the <a href="https://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/world-records/most-ascents-of-mt-everest-by-a-woman#:~:text=At%20the%20age%20of%2048,at%206.15%20a.m.%20local%20time.">Guiness World Record</a> for having climbed Mt Everest ten times, the most by any woman anywhere, and breaking her own record several times. Lhakpa Sherpa seeks Chomolungma’s blessings and forgiveness before and after every climb. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">The rise and fall of Nims Purja</a>, Pradnya Pradhan “I respect the mountain like my mom,” she says in the new Netflix documentary Mountain Queen: Summits of Lhakpa Sherpa.&nbsp; The film is as much about Lhakpa’s skill and stamina as a high altitude climber, as about her courage to stand up to an abusive husband and the strength to raise three children as a single mother working in a Whole Foods Market in the US state of Connecticut. &nbsp; Directed by Lucy Walker who excels in documenting real life characters, the 104 minute film provides viewers with an intimate glimpse of Lhakpa’s home, conversations with her daughters, and some spectacular footage of her climbing in Everest’s Death Zone. Walker removes layer upon layer of Lhakpa’s life to introduce us to the real person that she is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240910120952_549f2ebdc425038deb78854480449122da0890957389aa86b6a612bf91d33ec3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240910120952_549f2ebdc425038deb78854480449122da0890957389aa86b6a612bf91d33ec3" data-rendition-name="original" width="450" height="630" loading="lazy" alt="Mountain Queen Lhakpa Sherpa NT2"> </figure>  As a girl Lhakpa was a headstrong girl, and says her mother used to call her “too tough, too tall and very, very bossy” – and that is exactly how she comes across in the film. But behind the toughness and cheerful smile, Lhakpa is a soft-hearted person who has been in search of love and healing all her life. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/on-screen-mountains">On-screen mountains</a>, Sahina Shrestha Lhakpa was a social misfit, but found her true calling in mountaineering. She started out as a porter carrying up to 100kg on her back -- double her body weight. She had to pretend to be a boy since women did not get jobs with expeditions back then. Then, she was promoted to be a kitchen boy, cooking for the climbers in base camps.&nbsp; She needed money to climb but nobody at the time was sponsoring a woman. A chance meeting with King Birendra and Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala got her the sponsorship she needed in 2000 to lead an all-women Nepali Everest expedition. She reached the top for the first time, the only climber from her group to do so. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/streaming-the-himalaya-on-film">Streaming the Himalaya on film</a>, Pinki Sris Rana Her goal achieved, that should have been it. But Lhakpa was hopelessly hooked to the thrill of climbing. She met the Romanian-American mountaineer George Dijmarescu who encouraged her not to just be a porter, and join him in climbing Everest from the Tibet side.&nbsp; For the next several years the two became climbing partners, the ultimate power couple in Himalayan mountaineering. She emigrated to the United States and gave birth to daughters Sunny and Shiny. It was not long before Dijmarescu showed his true self, and Lahkpa was trapped in an abusive marriage in a foreign land. As a girl child in Nepal, she was never sent to school and had no other job except climbing. The fairytale had ended. She was featured in a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/sports/lhakpa-sherpa-everest.html">New York Times</a> report, training for her 10th ascent of Mt Everest carrying boxes of vegetables and fruits at Whole Foods. In Mountain Queen, Walker directs a highly personalised profile of Nepal’s &nbsp;almost-forgotten mountaineering legend, digging up her troubles and triumphs with sensitivity and care. Walker does more than tell the story of perseverance and resilience that go hand-in-hand with climbing, she also tells the story of a matriarch who has to be strong for her family. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/why-we-climb-mountains">Why we climb mountains</a>, Damien Francois After her 10th Everest ascent, sponsors line up to fund an expedition to even more challenging K2, which Lhakpa climbed last year. Pasang Lhamu’s soul burns brightly in Lhakpa Sherpa, and she sums up her own journey: “I’ll give my life to the mountains, keep climbing until the day I die.” Mountain Queen: Summits of Lhakpa Sherpa Directed by Lucy Walker Netflix, 2024 104 minutes&nbsp;

Daughter of Chomolungma

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

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

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

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

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