At Budhanilkantha School Ujwal Thapa was a few years my senior. He was a quiet person who kept to himself; I didn’t know him very well despite being related to him because of that introversion and natural shyness. What we did have in common, coming of age in the 1990s, is our generation, GenX, which became weary, inured for the most part, to Nepal’s famously unstable politics.&nbsp; Counting the events of this past September, GenX has, astonishingly, lived through three people’s revolutions, one armed conflict, a flawed but hard won constitution, and a major earthquake. Ujwal Thapa, one of Nepal’s most cherished Gen Xers, despite his previous, youthful reticence, did not long remain a complaisant bystander against the backdrop of these extreme upheavals.&nbsp; By the mid 2000s he had become deeply political, but without the equivocation that so often accompanies politics. Thanks to his lived experience, he came to believe that the youth of Nepal are the key to our future. He believed in discerning wisdom (bibeksheelta), innovation, and nurture. He inspired entire generations, young and old, including GenZ, before his untimely death due to Covid in 2021. He was only 44.&nbsp; By the time of his passing he had started a tech company, and employed and mentored scores of youth. It is important to note that only after he had made a significant contribution to civil society did he turn towards politics, founding and then stepping back from the Bibeksheel Nepali party, which has now, after several complicated mergers and splits, been integrated into the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP). When the Ujwal Thapa Foundation set out to make a documentary on his life three years ago, no one could have known that it would premiere at such a crucial point in Nepal’s social and political history.&nbsp; Everything that Ujwal Thapa believed in still holds true. I think he would have been proud to see the youth of our country, GenZ, stand up for themselves, peacefully. He would have been grieved at the state condoned bloodshed, and, believing in non-violent protest himself, been deeply shocked by the savage revolution that followed.&nbsp; Most of all, I wonder how he would have reacted to the publishing of the blatantly elitist RSP proportional representation list - the party that many had pinned their hopes on, and that Bibeksheel Nepali has ultimately been absorbed into. That party now seems like it may be a chip off the rotten old block, ruled by men endorsing rampant nepotism, and outnumbered by people without scruples.&nbsp; Many of the names on the list and the rankings, in particular, disrespect the very spirit of a provision that was created for those competent individuals who would not otherwise be able to contest elections, due to lack of monetary and social capital, but whose marginalised voices are vital for inclusive policy making. There is still time for real inclusion, to embrace a more bibeksheel path, before the March elections.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa’s own, firm, ethical stances are clear in the The Man Who Shook Our Minds, translated loosely from the Nepali title Dimaag Ghhochne Manchhe. While long, at almost two hours, it is filled with thought-provoking and sage counsel. The film also offers very real insight into how Ujwal Thapa evolved into the icon he is today.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_eb596eb063dcaf0f67840bfa4ffa39eb27df2bf9ec1a3f9a1f531824c1b7a569.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026011111018_eb596eb063dcaf0f67840bfa4ffa39eb27df2bf9ec1a3f9a1f531824c1b7a569" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> <figcaption>Still from the documentary.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_65d9625d3a4865ca228425b7ce7b7b186ae5009313bbfab0ee65eada276aebd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026011111018_65d9625d3a4865ca228425b7ce7b7b186ae5009313bbfab0ee65eada276aebd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011111018_2ff455c55722d153cafbd2d650e19584e38d7c098b109271bd106a55201f4fa0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026011111018_2ff455c55722d153cafbd2d650e19584e38d7c098b109271bd106a55201f4fa0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="670" loading="lazy" alt="Ujwal Thapa"> </figure>  It isn’t easy making a documentary after the passing of the primary subject. While there are many talking heads, the people featured, friends, family, fellow activists and senior politicians are all eloquent in their descriptions of Ujwal Thapa and his transformation from an engaged, civic minded entrepreneur into a committed political leader who among many other commendable things, believed in putting women first, and understood the crucial necessity for a welfare state that would serve its people. The main man is not deified, he is humanised.&nbsp; The feature is punctuated, and leavened, with moments of real humour as his infamous bluntness and occasional domestic haplessness are gently exposed. Another strength of the film is the profound love story between Ujwal Thapa and his brave, brilliant, incredibly resilient wife, Erica Adhikary, the heroine to a real life hero, and a major force behind the making of this film, alongside many of his stalwart wellwishers and friends, old and new.&nbsp; Sushila Karki, the Prime Minister, was present at the premiere of the film with members of her Cabinet. Candid and sincere in her opening remarks, she said she had wanted to attend the moment she heard about the film. She had known Ujwal Thapa, and she had mourned his loss, praying for him during his illness. She wished that leaders like him were here today to show us the way forward in a time of need. The film opened in theatres on the 9th of January, and is an essential viewing experience for anyone who cares about Nepal’s future and wants some insight into how they might make a difference.&nbsp; Ujwal Thapa was not perfect, but he was remarkable. He realised that being a civic minded citizen just isn’t enough. To make a real difference, one also needs to be principled, insightful, entrepreneurial, creative, self motivated, able to speak truth to power, uncorruptible, practical, well prepared, and, perhaps, most importantly, able to step back from holding power even after attaining it.&nbsp; The saying by Plato that goes “He who does not desire power is fit to hold it” was surely meant for people like Ujwal Thapa. One can only hope that in the near future more people embodying this description will, however reluctantly, come forward to lead Nepal. Ujwal Thapa worked hard to enable this, they must be out there. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/veO1yVM4pS4?si=f0Lcbs1wasyqfnK1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> Sophia L Pandé is on the Ujwal Thapa Foundation Advisory Board. She is a writer, art-historian and filmmaker, advising on the economic and social potential of the Cultural and Creative Industries. She is Director of Development at the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust, and Founding Director of The Kalā Salon, a non-profit space for the arts.

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Review

The Man Who Shook Our Minds

One of the few Newa towns situated outside Kathmandu Valley, Panauti still evokes the feeling of a place frozen in time.&nbsp; Largely untouched by haphazard urbanisation, this town 32km east of Kathmandu used to be a kingdom revered for the sacred confluence of the Punyamati and Rosi rivers.&nbsp; The Bramhayani temple is the site of a 12 yearly Makar Mela which is attended by devotees from as far away as India.&nbsp; Panauti’s crumbling monuments were restored in the 1990s by the French government. Temples, resting places, traditional homes were rebuilt and locals trained to revive their craft. Panauti and France marked 50 years of cooperation in September.&nbsp; However, the priceless murals on the temple walls are fading and need urgent restitution. Now, these crumbling wall paintings are meticulously documented in the Wall Paintings of Panauti and Their Context.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090116_31f6acf06ef879037fec8274b85153eab4468566abf71616490679bf8468b85d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260106090116_31f6acf06ef879037fec8274b85153eab4468566abf71616490679bf8468b85d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1596" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals"> </figure>  In his foreword, French researcher Gérard Toffin writes about some of the earliest wall paintings from the Malla period in Kathmandu, including a 17th century mural depicting the procession of Rato Machhindranath which has since been restored.&nbsp; Several other pieces still exist but in a pitiful state, defaced by scratches. ‘They were painted on a plaster coating made of soil, husks, or limestone, which were applied to the bricks making up the walls,’ Toffin notes.&nbsp; The book delves into the cult of Asta Matrika among Newa of all castes and classes, the first of which is Bramhayani. These all-pervading deities are linked to Shaktism which focuses on the importance of the female principle and together, combine the forces of life, sex and fertility with that of death and eros. The deities are painted on the wall, carved on the stone or moulded into metallic statues.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090120_836efd2b0a569d8ec0fb2c6651a29b8f2dd8f8f75b72e27bb86b0bfc0ad8461f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260106090120_836efd2b0a569d8ec0fb2c6651a29b8f2dd8f8f75b72e27bb86b0bfc0ad8461f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1074" height="1434" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals"> </figure>  Riddhi Baba Pradhan, former director general of the Department of Archaeology who oversaw the restoration of Panauti 30 years ago, writes that a colourful wall painting depicting Buddha's past life at the Chabahil Chaitya built or restored during the reign of Lichhavi king Vrisdev in the 3rd century might be the earliest mural in Nepal. As for Panauti, a fragment from a 400-year-old scroll which illustrates a scene of Triveni Ghat with Dalinchok Hill in the background is likely the oldest. But that relic is currently at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in the United States.&nbsp; Pradhan recalls first encountering wall paintings inside Bramhayani temple which were deteriorated by smoke, leaky roof, dust, vermilion, sprinkles of animal blood and lack of maintenance. The team led by chemist Bhimvar Singh Thapa treated the wall paintings and some of the details were recovered including the paintings of Astamatrika and Asta Bhairav on the east, west and southern walls.&nbsp; PAINTINGS ARE NOT VISIBLE The murals were painted during the reign of the last Malla King of Bhaktapur Ranjit Malla and Queen Viswalaxmi Devi 300 years ago. But 40 years after the restoration, Pradhan notes that the murals are again in poor condition: ‘The paintings are not visible, the plaster is severely damaged and the surface has peeled off … electrical wires hang haphazardly inside the temple.’ The second lot of murals at Ghat Sattal are thought to have been commissioned during the late Malla period or the beginning of the Shah dynasty. Exterior walls depict incarnations of Lord Vishnu as well as Sesh Narayan, Ganesh, a scene of Samundra Manthan, of angels Maya, Moha, Ganga. Their attributes, dresses, ornaments, facial expressions, body postures are all skilfully represented but in a deteriorated condition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260106090116_88d06703ae23a271905d81f35056d41df92cbbc4b9966fac3f34821659e585a8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260106090116_88d06703ae23a271905d81f35056d41df92cbbc4b9966fac3f34821659e585a8" data-rendition-name="original" width="588" height="862" loading="lazy" alt="Panauti murals "> </figure>  The wall paintings of Bramhayani Dyochhen are 90% degraded even though they were restored and repaired 40 years ago by the Panauti Integrated Project. Compared to other artefacts, wall paintings are more delicate to external factors, and if not preserved an important part of Nepal’s heritage will be lost.&nbsp; Furthermore, most of the wall paintings in Nepal are temperas, and not frescos. Tempera is painted with water-soluble mineral or vegetable pigments fixed with glue on the cow dung clay plaster on the brick walls. While Nepal’s focus has been on the repatriation of stolen artefacts from abroad, religious and cultural objects within the country like the Panauti murals need urgent attention.&nbsp; This slim publication by Panauti Municipality is an important call to begin the work before it is too late.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120124_d0efa1e57b2710a206beb37c7e934ac34e694afc278985934eac2fc52124a92c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120124_d0efa1e57b2710a206beb37c7e934ac34e694afc278985934eac2fc52124a92c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Wall Paintings of Panauti"> </figure>

Sonia Awale

Saving Panauti's murals

As someone born and raised in Patan, I knew that the city was rich in art, architecture and intangible heritage. But I never realised just how rich, and how little I knew about its hidden treasures until this book. Yala Mhasika/Exploring Lalitpur/Lalitpurko Chinari is published by the Lalitpur Chamber of Commerce &amp; Industry and introduces the city to the world, as well as to its own inhabitants. Lalitpur is popularly known as Patan, probably because of the pastures for livestock in its outskirts. Its original name in Nepal Bhasa is Yala, and is a blend of urban and rural, old and new.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patan Dhoka</figcaption> </figure>  Like other kingdoms in the valley of Swoniga, the dense urban cluster of houses, temples, monasteries were situated along the higher ground, while the farmlands were on the slopes leading to the rivers below. This unique townscape combined an urban lifestyle within a distinctly agriculture-based rural setting. The fertile soil, replenished by organic nutrients washed down from the streets above, as well as Kathmandu’s location on the ancient trade route between India and Tibet, provided the Valley’s kingdoms with prosperity – and thus the flourishing of art and culture over centuries. Most of Yala’s residents were farmers, traders, or artisans. Chinese visitors who came to Nepal in the 6th century saw that there were more traders than farmers, and more temples than houses. An entire street is inhabited by the descendants of Lhasa traders. Arniko is supposed to have been born in Yala.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Kwonti area which houses five-storey Kumbeshwar temple dedicated to Shiva and Baglamukhi temple dedicated to Dasa Mahavidya shakti peeth.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal exported goods and even minted coins for Tibet, and had a virtual monopoly of the major trans-Himalayan trade routes. This prosperity was reflected in monuments and shrines like the Kwa Baha Golden Temple. More so than the other three kingdoms of Swoniga, architecture flourished in Yala making it the centre for metal, stone and wood craft. The name Lalitpur means ‘city of fine art’ but with its sense of community, it might as well be a city of fine living. Legend also has it that the name Lalitpur comes from a farmer called Lalit who helped bring the rain god Karunamaya from Assam when the Valley was suffering a prolonged drought. Lalit’s shoulder beam stands to this day in Jhatapol. Disasters, invasion and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-in-a-time-of-cholera">epidemics</a> were a recurring theme in Patan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal.</figcaption> </figure>  The book was put together by the heritage expert team of Rosha Bajracharya, Sunil Pandey and Anil Chitrakar and provides a socio-economic and political history of Patan – how it was always food surplus, thanks to sustainable farming until recently. Ground and drone images by Photo Venture Nepal in the book give us a rare new perspective on Patan. There is an entire chapter on the chariot festival of Karunamaya (Machhindranath), a community-managed festival with Barahi carpenters assembling the woodwork, vine engineers Yamva weaving rope and rattan for the 25m tall chariot, and Ghaku drivers controlling the speed and brakes as the structure rolls through narrow streets in the annual festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Te Bahal in Patan which houses Karunamaya six months a year.</figcaption> </figure>  WALKING, WORSHIPPING The book can help in exploring Patan along five routes starting in Patan Dhoka, Pulchok, Shankhamul, Mahaboudha and Lagankhel with maps and details of the baha and bahil, shrines, ponds, open spaces, dhyochenn, courtyards and phalcha along the way. Because of its coffee-table size and heft, however, the guidebook is not practical to carry around. And despite detailed descriptions of the past and present of each site, readers are left wanting to know more about those places. It is proof of Patan’s vast treasures that even this book barely scratches the surface.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patukodom where visitors can view what remains of the ancient Kirant palace.</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the lesser-known must-visit sites include Patukodom which is all that remains of a palace of the original Kirat inhabitants of Patan. An archaeological dig here would surely unearth hitherto unknown facets of pre-Newa Patan. Then there are the slightly out of the way shrines like Mahabouha, a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya which houses 3,341 terracotta Buddhas with 90 big statues and which took 35 years and four generations to complete.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mahaboudha is a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya.</figcaption> </figure>  In a recent Patan by Night heritage walk, we learnt that Pim Bahal was the labour of love of a lakhe demon (now popularised as masked dancer) who had fallen for a local girl, and he dug the pond so she would not have to walk to a faraway spout to collect water. Nearby is the Charumati Chaitya, built by the daughter of Emperor Ashoka when she visited the Valley in the 3rd century BCE to spread Buddhism in Nepal. Interestingly, if Kathmandu is a city of temples, Patan is the centre of monasteries which represent a unique Tantric melding of Buddhist and Hindu forms. Examples are: the Tadham Cuka with relocated Licchavi-era chaityas symbolic of the four major events in Buddha’s life, Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal, and Bignantak Ganesa temple which is a manifestation of Shiva mingled with Vajrayana Buddhism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Bignantak Ganesa temple.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;Besides spatial descriptions, the book also explains the temporal by curating a detailed cultural calendar of Lalitpur with dates and places of jatra, rituals, devotional dances and festivals that weave the agricultural cycle with the zodiac.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mipwa Lakhe of Patan which create fire in mid aid during performance.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Gan pyakhan or Astamatrika dance which is performed in Patan Darbar Squre during Dasain. </figcaption> </figure>  The very last chapter is dedicated to water and nature, what sustains lives and civilisations, and how Lalitpur continues to be the city it is because of the water supply system our ancestors left behind which function still, despite encroachment and pollution. ‘In the history of the world cities have been built, they thrived for some time and then became archaeological sites because they were not able to maintain the quality of air, water, and its soil,’ the authors write. ‘This led these cities to depopulate and ultimately die and are only referred to in history books. Lalitpur is not going to make the same mistake.’ &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur"> </figure>

YALA

Koreana Coffee Guff begins with a scene where Narayan Wagle, the editor-turned-farmer, appears in reverse cameo, as a character in a novel. He has just landed at Incheon in the dead of winter.&nbsp; The opening premise reminds one of Tolstoy’s saying about how stories begin either when someone goes on a journey, or when a stranger comes to town. ‘The winds of each city are its original inheritance, shaped by its local language, its specific topography and the buffets of the airborne wings of birds and airplanes,’ Wagle writes.&nbsp; The author is both on a journey and a stranger to the town. The word ‘stranger’ might need to be redefined here, as he has visited Korea several times before. But if every journey is new, then he is a stranger of sorts — stranger to the people he meets for the first time in the book, stranger to the reader who will encounter him for the first time like I did in high school reading the English translation of his 2005 Madan Puraskar winning novel Palpasa Cafe.&nbsp; Koreana is non-fiction, and was first published in 2017 in Nepali, and recently rendered into English by Prawin Adhikari, who specialises in translating Nepali works into English in such a way that they do not read like translations at all.&nbsp; Even so, I turned to a few chapters from the original text, curious to see how ideas have morphed. Take Wagle’s journey to Ansan Mountain. It is the same mountain, but something different happens in the two languages. The inexplicable feeling is that the translation has to conquer the mountain itself. At its best, the book gives the reader a peek into Wagle’s mind, his internal monologues, his writing ideas, his thoughts on the people around him, his deep yearning and respect for nature, his exploration of Seoul and Korea, where he is attending the Asian Literary Creative Writing Workshop in 2017.&nbsp; BACK TO THE LAND ‘All cities appear the same everywhere,’ he writes of Seoul, speaking of how ‘development’ has masked the original charm of a city rebuilt after war. In recent years, Wagle has moved on from being the editor of Kantipur, to activism, and has now returned to his ancestral land in Tanahu to farm.&nbsp; Clues to this metamorphosis can be detected in this book, which was written nearly ten years ago and before his transition. Wagle used to write a column called Coffee Guff, and the book carries that conversational style.&nbsp; But not all monologues land. Thoughts rooted in a specific time and space like the hike to Ansan where the author reflects on buildings, birds, and trees feel connected with a context and background. Then there are those that bring in a new metaphor, a new reflection, a new connection in almost each new sentence which make it difficult to follow the author’s stream of consciousness.&nbsp; Halfway into the book, we finally meet the writers who have come from different parts of Asia for the workshop. Not speaking a common language, the writers have to rely on interpreters and Google, which turns their exchanges into quirky moments of laughter.&nbsp; Writers are an important part of the book, the lens through which Wagle invites us to see the world. Poets Manjul from Nepal and Shiva Ryu from Korea make guest appearances. Through two Korean writers who share the surname Kim, we get a glimpse into Korean history and society, and how writing is intertwined with politics.&nbsp; This Korea is different from the Kpop idols and skincare routine that has dominated recent imagination of the divided peninsular nation. Wagle writes, ‘Literature attempts to unite, politics impedes it. They are being continuously thwarted by the conflicts ongoing in the nation’s politics.’&nbsp; One of the Kims is Kim Min-jung (김민정), author of The World’s Most Expensive Novel, that explores what it means to be a writer in Korea.&nbsp; Reading Koreana feels like a hike through a jungle. If one is able to move past the tangled and stretched monologues, the book can hold moments of awe and wonder. But there is always a desire for a clearer trail to follow. &nbsp;&nbsp; Narayan Wagle’s characteristic witticism is there aplenty, his observations are astute. Writers exploring their craft and readers curious of what is churning inside Wagle’s mind will find treats -- sometimes well-crafted, other times to be searched between the lines. &nbsp; Alfa M Shakya is a writer, researcher, and podcaster. She runs and hosts ‘How’d You Create That?’, an art podcast about the creative process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Korean coffee guff English translation review"> </figure>

Coffee guff from Korea

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Vishad Raj Onta

Not taking loyalty for granted

Menstrual stigma remains a lived reality in Nepal, where taboos and violence are still justified in the name of tradition. What is framed as cultural practice is often unsafe, excludes women and deprives them of dignity. Women are forced to face everyday restrictions, to isolate themselves, limit them from access to health information, sanitation, and timely care. Although with education, the practice is less prevalent, it is still entrenched in rural and marginalised communities. Which is why the book Celebrating Menstrual Activists in Nepal is an important reflective documentation of such experiences, practical interventions, lessons and possibilities, with grassroots activism against menstrual banishment from across Nepal. The dominant international narrative of menstruation in Nepal is often reduced to images of women confined in cowsheds on the internet. While the practice of chhaupadi is real and brutal, focusing just on this singular issue erases the diversity of menstrual experiences and activism all over Nepal. “Simply searching ‘menstruation’ in Nepal shows a starkly stereotypical narrative as compared to other countries, where activism, products, and choice dominate the imagery,” says the book’s curator Sara Parker: Parker and Laxmi Dhital interviewed activists from different walks of life, purpose, and responsibilities, all of whom are central to translating legislation into change at the grassroots, some through their focus on practical access and sustainability, others foregrounding gender norms and structural power. LOCAL SOLUTIONS Anupa Shrestha addresses fundamental menstrual health issues such as hygiene, irregular menstruation, menopause, and family planning, but her primary focus is on producing reusable menstrual pads. Anupa spent over two months researching reusable pad production online before locating a trainer in Kathmandu. She then organised her first training session with 15 women. The pads, made from cotton cloth and other absorbent materials, are designed to last at least one year, making them both cost-effective and environmentally sustainable, and has reached over 1,000 people. School-based training is particularly effective. Beni Rani Ghale’s Freedom Period Pads and Claire Lin’s Love Lovely Pads also integrate sustainability, livelihoods, and bodily education, employing local women and reducing menstrual waste. Gyan Maharjan, widely known as ‘Pad Man’, argues that menstrual stigma is rooted in patriarchy and cannot be dismantled without men’s involvement. He envisions a society where fathers can openly explain menstruation to their daughters without shame, and where adolescent girls are equipped with accurate information rather than fear. Maharjan founded X-pose Nepal to address sexual harassment and now employs local women to create reusable and disposable menstrual products. Youth activist Ashwin Karki believes in involving young people in awareness campaigns for behavioural change to ensure that the next generation experiences less discrimination. Babu Kaji Shrestha of Global Action Nepal (GAN), views education as essential for long-term change with improved teaching practices around reproductive and sexual health education. The book expands menstruation beyond hygiene, linking it to nutrition, mental health, and dignity. Bonita Sharma talks about diet, mental health, hygiene, and bodily changes, addressing cramps, hormonal fluctuations, weakness, and variations in bleeding and discharge. Pema Lhaki, a member of the Nepal Fertility Care Centre (NFCC) adapts campaigns to specific communities. She questions the term ‘dignified menstruation’, arguing that activists should focus on normalising menstruation rather than moralising it. In western Nepal, Durga Giri works directly with communities, politicians, teachers, and police to challenge chhaupadi practices, remaining optimistic that sustained engagement at the grassroots level can shift entrenched mindsets. Artist Ashmina Ranjitkar uses visual and political art to confront menstrual shame, saying it is life-affirming rather than impure. Journalists and advocates such as Ganga Khadka demonstrate how activism can influence national policy, most notably through the provision of free menstrual pads in schools. Despite threats, violence, and exclusion, Radha Paudel, founder of the Global South Coalition for Dignified Menstruation, frames menstrual discrimination as a human right violation rooted in the myth of impurity that sustains gender-based violence and inequality. The book shuns simplification and offers a layered, grounded account of why the fight to normalise menstruation must continue. It is a creative outcome of Dignity Without Danger (DWD), a British Academy–GCRF–funded research project. Illustrated by Sophie Maliphant, the book invites readers to engage, to reflect on their learnings and become a part of this movement by sharing the impact of reading these stories with #CelebratingMenstrualActivists, #MenstrualActivistStories and @DignityWithoutDanger. The funds raised from the book will be used to support further menstrual education initiatives by Global Action Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251225111244_29fdde4e907d5edbf98b629e1ab299f4dd59800711b377fe02e1df124b3cca36.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251225111244_29fdde4e907d5edbf98b629e1ab299f4dd59800711b377fe02e1df124b3cca36" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="That time of the month NT"></figure>

That time of the month

‘Get out of my house.’ ‘All my sickness is because of you.’ ‘You’re a millstone around my neck.’ Arundhati Roy heard these admonitions from her mother over and over throughout her life.&nbsp; This must be a singular, yet universal experience. There must be very few daughters who make it through life unscathed by their mothers. And vice-versa.&nbsp; How many of our mothers look at us and see in us the potential of all of the lives they could have lived? How many resent us for it, or want us to live those lives in their stead? And how many of us look back at our mothers and imagine what they would have achieved had they not been expected and assigned to play the role of wife, daughter-in-law, mother — had we never existed in their lives? How many mothers project their experiences onto their own daughters and continue the cycle? No daughter seems to escape it — no matter how well-behaved, docile, unruly, or rebellious. Certainly not the child who would go on to become a Booker prize-winning author. Arundhati Roy’s memoir Mother Mary Comes To Me chronicles her complex relationship with her mother Mary, or Mrs Roy, as her educator mother had her two children refer to her. In December, Arundhati Roy was in Kathmandu to sign books and briefly interact with readers at two bookshops in the city. She describes a childhood overshadowed by her mother’s volatility towards her and her brother. Mary herself was raised by an abusive father to escape whom she married the first man who proposed — Arundhati’s father who in her mother’s words turned out to be an alcoholic ‘Nothing Man’.&nbsp; Mary left her husband in Assam and eventually wound up with her two children in her town of Aymanam in Kerala, encountering other family members along the way who did not treat her, or her children with respect. The trauma and cruelty her mother endured could not be contained in her body, and spilled out onto her two children, towards whom she was physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive.&nbsp; While she treated her children with disregard, she would build a school in the nearby town of Kottayam from the ground up, educate thousands of children, take up a legal fight that led to the Supreme Court granting Syrian Christian women in India equal inheritance rights, and uplift many orphaned children and women in Kerala.&nbsp; Arundhati lived with both her mother’s brutality and brilliance. And like her daughter, readers must reconcile the indefensible parts of Mary Roy’s personality — the cruelty of calling her nine-year-old daughter a bitch, or shooting the family dog that mated with a stray — with her unyielding drive to educate thousands, fight for equal rights, and challenge the way her world viewed women.&nbsp; Mrs Roy had little kindness for her own children, but plenty for the students, children, and women whose lives she shaped, and made better. And her kindness was not rooted in empathy, but in anger at the hand she had been dealt in life. Eventually, Arundhati decided to temporarily cut all contact with Mrs Roy — not because she did not love her, she writes, but so that she could continue to love her. Her desire to get away from her abusive mother, and her fascination with the ideas inspired by the architect who built her mother’s school, would lead her to the Delhi School of Architecture at age 16. In Delhi, Arundhati became roommates with Hisila Yami before she and her Maoist ideologue husband Baburam Bhattarai went underground to lead Nepal’s decade-long armed struggle. &nbsp; But architecture was not her calling. In Delhi, the heart of India’s statecraft, Arundhati came into young adulthood against a backdrop of the country’s changing socio-politics, which began to take a turn for the hyper-nationalist, Hindu supremacist community that it has now largely become. The winds of those changes have now blown into Nepal. In the city, far from her mother, Arundhati met the man who would become her partner of many years, collaborating with him on several films and screenplays before finding the language (‘I needed to hunt [language] down like prey,’ she writes) she needed to become the writer she is now.&nbsp; She went on to write her Booker prize-winning novel The God of Small Things, but the wealth and status the book brought her did not sit comfortably. So she smashed her newly-built gilded cage, as she describes it, and became more political. Contrary to norm, she published several works of non-fiction, and would only publish her second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, in 2017, 20 years after The God of Small Things. &nbsp;&nbsp; Her fierce opposition to India’s nuclear policies, to a dam that would displace millions of indigenous people and ecologically damage the Narmada Valley, her championing of Kashmiri self-determination, and her time spent with Maoist rebels in the forests of Chhattisgarh as they took up arms to defend their land and resources against corporate interests made her an enemy of the state.&nbsp; Meanwhile, being raised by a single mother had never sat well within her Syrian Christian community. ‘I wasn't Christian enough. I wasn't Hindu enough. I wasn't communist enough. I wasn't enough,’ Roy writes in her memoir. For all her love for India, the nation did not seem to reciprocate. The circumstances might be different, but it might strike a chord with readers in Nepal, many of whom marched on the streets in September hoping for a better tomorrow, but were gunned down by the very institutions meant to protect them. It might resonate with those who are not seen as citizens of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood.&nbsp; Arundhati’s relationship with her mother, who was simultaneously proud and disdainful of her daughter’s accomplishments, continued to be tumultuous until the end of Mary Roy’s life.&nbsp; One of Mrs Roy’s last messages to her daughter before she passed was: ‘There is no one in the world whom I have loved more than you.’ Arundhati muses that her lifelong refusal to stop loving her mother must have finally breached her barriers. One wonders if that final declaration of love was solace enough, apology enough, for all the pain caused.&nbsp; But for Arundhati Roy, her love for her mother and her motherland outweighs the cruelty both have shown her. This, too, must be a singular, yet universal experience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Mother Mary Comes to Me review"> </figure>

Shristi Karki

The sins of our mothers

Samrat Upadhyay’s newest novel <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/10/books/review/darkmotherland-samrat-upadhyay.html" target="_blank">Darkmotherland</a> imagines a Kathmandu in political turmoil after a large earthquake. In the aftermath, Home Minister Giridharilal Bhagirath Kumar stages a ‘koo’, and has convinced people that he is the answer to the crisis.&nbsp; He is now known as ‘PM Papa’, and picks up classic dictatorial ways — propaganda, statue-making, history-revising, and a gang of Shiva-worshipping ‘Fundys’.&nbsp; We are introduced to two complicated protagonists. The first is Kranti, a fetching young woman and ‘Madam Mao’, her Communist professor mother. The chef father loved classic rock and died by gas cylinder suicide. Kranti hates her mother, and the Communist group which congregates at her home to plot against PM Papa, although they seem to take forever to get anything done.&nbsp; Kranti has a complicated relationship with the handsome Bhaskar, the middle son of the Ghimirey family oligarchy that is aligned with the dictator. She loves him, but as Bhaskar gets more and more involved with her mother and the Communist group, finds herself heading out to the ‘Bhurey’ (Bhu-kampa Rey-fugee) tents, to spend time with poet Kabiraj.&nbsp; Kranti is also given to delusions, paranoia, and psychosis, convinced that Bhaskar’s family is spying on her, and that one in the Communist group has supernatural powers of suggestion that led to her father’s suicide. Despite mental issues, she marries Bhaskar and into the Ghimirey clan, and the complex nexus between business and politics.&nbsp; The second is Rozy, initially the genderqueer lover of PM Papa who he discovered in the streets, and is described as a ‘gorgeous homosexual’. She turns heads due to her sexuality and beauty, and gets more and more politically powerful as the story moves along.&nbsp; Upadhyay tells us Nepali writers writing in English often feel a pressure to create an “all-embracing world” (interview), but that is what he seems to be getting at with the monumental plot of his novel. Unlike the realism in his previous novels, this one drifts off into magical realism. His narrative blends the ever-present risk of a big earthquake and the actuality of political tremors. The speed of political upheaval seems a little unrealistic for anyone who lived through the 2015 earthquake, although the GenZ protests showed just how quickly a regime can be reduced to a heap of rubble. The age-old question: oppression can be overcome, but what comes after? The PM Papa character is a Gyanendra-Oli-Deuba-Prachanda-Modi-Trump-Papa Doc composite who is good friends with the not even thinly veiled President Corn Hair.&nbsp; Through the character of Kranti, Upadhyay conveys the dynamic between a parent and a child who is now a full adult, on relationships in Kathmandu as marriage looms, on pervasive corruption which one might denounce but have to take advantage of to get things done.&nbsp; Through Rozy, Upadhyay brings attention to the non-binary identity, one that has existed forever in Nepal, and although is discussed a lot in the West lately but not so much here. Upadhyay explores the origins, the present, and the various advantages and disadvantages of the queer.&nbsp; Storytelling in the early parts of the book oscillates between the real and absurd fantasy amidst the physical and political backdrop that does not have to be Nepal -- it could be Modi's India or Trump's America.&nbsp; The reader sees the world through Kranti’s psychosis, or PM Papa’s displays of power, such as when a ‘Sweej’ wrestler is beaten to death with a mace in a wrestling spectacle.&nbsp; These elements <a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/authors/profiles/article/96329-samrat-upadhyay-wants-you-to-expect-the-unexpected.html" target="_blank">coagulate in the novel</a>, and Upadhyay has all the pages at his disposal to prod and push them against one another to see what happens. The novel is still at its best and most engaging when describing vulnerable scenes, of Kranti and her mister, or of Rozy’s messed-up childhood.&nbsp; Any Nepali reading his weighty novel can recognise the allusions and nudges such as the Tourist Area: Thamel, Open Stage: Khula Manch, Tri-Moon: Tri-Chandra etc. But anyone not from these parts may have a tough time keeping track. Keeping a notebook handy may be useful.&nbsp; Ultimately, the novel does work, it provokes and entertains. For best results, serialise the reading over 30 days, not 3 like this reviewer.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Darkmotherland NT"> </figure>  <h2>More things change, more they remain the same</h2> First US-published Nepali Samrat Upadhyay is the award-winning author of novels and short story collections like Arresting God in Kathmandu, The City Son, Mad Country, and Buddha’s Orphans. Upadhyay is also the Martha C. Kraft Professor of Humanities at Indiana University, where he teaches Creative Writing.&nbsp; Recently in Kathmandu, he talked to the Nepali Times over coffee in Boudha about his writing, his teaching, and his newest novel, DARKMOTHERLAND.&nbsp; Nepali Times: Darkmotherland is 732 pages long. What was it like writing a much longer book? Samrat Upadhyay: Torturous Ha ha ha. Around 2014 I started a story. I knew it was going to be a novel. It was about this woman who is accused of being a Mangalik. Then the big earthquake happened in 2015. I was in the US but my parents were still here, they were living in tents. Then I started thinking, what would happen if a dictator came to power. That’s how PM Papa was born. I think mostly because of his character the novel exploded. I had never written a character like him before. I don’t do any plot outlines when I write. Let’s see where it goes. I like the process of writing to lead to discoveries. If I knew everything then I’d get bored. Not knowing where the storyline might go is very exciting. All these different threads started coming in, the character of Kranti started taking on a big role. Her mother, a Communist-leaning professor, started taking shape. Kranti also had a love-interest from an oligarchical family. The novel just took off and I just continued writing. A novel is as long as it needs to be. The initial draft was 1,700 pages. I was writing pretty fast. I don’t pause to see if the sentences are pretty. I whittled it down, and by the time I sent it to my agent it was 1,100 pages. He was able to sell it to Soho Press. I worked with an editor who suggested some further cuts and expansions. The editing part was even harder than the initial writing, because by that time I was tired of looking at the novel. There was a bit of a delay because of Covid, then we got back on track. What’s your daily process of getting the words on paper? I am a morning writer. I get up in the morning and start writing. You can have all kinds of theories but there is this saying, Shut Up and Write. The writing is where the meat is. You encounter difficulties in writing that you may not encounter when thinking about it. I see this in my students. I knew this was a big project so I knew that if I wanted to get it out I would need to write a lot per day. I got a couple fellowships in the university that gave me a few semesters off teaching. I would write for about 4 or 5 hours. Sometimes I would give myself a 1,000 word deadline, but I’m flexible with it if I don’t get there. You have to be kind and patient. What is your inspiration behind the gender-queer character, Rozy? I’ve always been a strong supporter of LGBT. I would say that at this point half of my students are non-binary or on the gender spectrum. Some of them are going through transitions. In some ways Nepal has become more accepting, but in other ways not. I did a workshop with Blue Diamond Society, and heard pretty harrowing stories. I didn’t intend to create a gender-queer character, but it seemed like the novel was demanding that. Especially in terms of the tyrannical stronghold that PM Papa has over the entire country, it made sense that there would be a counterpart, I wanted to put these things in motion and see how they interact. As I was writing Rozy, her character became very formidable. How much do you draw from Nepali politics? Do you form characters off people you know? Not in a very concrete sense, but I’m always drawing from them. I grew up in the Panchayat System, and lived in Lainchaur. The palace was there. The monarchy was such an institution. But then I was in the US, so I wasn’t here when the pro-democracy movement happened. In some ways it felt like things had changed, but were the same in other ways. I feel the same way now. I do draw upon people. I think my father makes an appearance in my work in various forms, I disguise him, of course. You’ve taught creative writing for a while now, how is literature changing?&nbsp; My students are also writing non-binary characters, because they want to be reflected in the stories. This is something new that we didn’t have. White authors, characters were the default. People of Color on the margins. African American and then Hispanic, South Asian authors were always pushing back on this status quo. When I was growing up in the classroom we were reading a lot of white male authors, but in my own life I was reading Salman Rushdie, African, South African friends and writers. My students have a lot more interest in fantasy, many are writing dystopian. One student is writing a novel where the characters start playing a game, and then they enter the game, and an entire new world opens up. On the one hand there are complaints that students aren’t reading enough, which is true, but my students are producing smarter work. Writing that is a lot more insightful. The calibre of discussion in my graduate-level novel writing classes is mind-boggling to me, and makes me want to keep on teaching. Do Nepali writers who write in English feel a certain pressure, from the market or self-imposed, to make their stories more Nepali? My experience for a long time was that there was a pressure, I felt it true in my case, I was supposed to be the representative of every Nepali. But Nepali writers writing in Nepali are not asked, how are you representing Nepal. At that time there was a lot of pressure to write a novel that is all-embracing, that is supposed to speak on all aspects of the country. Politics felt like an integral part of it, that these novels had to make big political statements. I always felt like this was wrong. I mean, people have to write what they want to write. &nbsp;You write what you want to write, and if it resonates with readers, that’s great. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too. Art isn’t going to speak to everyone. We do a competition every couple of years called Writing Nepal. We make a call for stories, and we decide the best ones. I find it refreshing now that the writing isn’t all about Nepal. The best stories are quite varied. What are Nepalis writing about?&nbsp; Several of the stories are about the role of women in our society, done with a lot of nuance, about the sort of multitasking they have to do. Some of it was deeply historical, some dystopian, the coming of AI. Some of them have an old-timey type of feel, and some of them are very modern, contemporary. The general level of art in movies, TV shows, and novels seems to have regressed compared to say the 90s.&nbsp; I don’t think that’s entirely true. Publishing has been harder, for sure, but there are a lot of novels being published every year. My writing workshop had always been a good vehicle for short stories, but a lot of my students now—even undergraduates—are working on novels. I haven’t formulated my thoughts on AI, it is so new and has hit us so hard. Many of my students are using AI, especially when writing response papers to works of literature or peers, which I find appalling. That’s going to be a struggle. I tell my students, who are you fooling? If you feel that you want to be an artist, or a writer, then what’s the point of using AI? AI-generated stories are also just not that good. They’re almost too perfect, too well put-together, making moves that are easy to detect. There is something about human-written stories that are messy and exciting. But there are also plenty of students who want to do original work and don’t want anything to do with AI.

A dystopian motherland

When Winston Churchill addressed the Canadian Parliament in December 1941, he recalled that generals of Nazi-occupied France had said that England would “have her neck wrung like a chicken”. Churchill went on to quip: “Some chicken.” As the laughter and applause subsided, he added: “Some neck.” (Even longer laughter and applause) We do not know who first started calling the narrow corridor that joins India to its northeastern states a 'Chicken’s Neck', but there also was the hint of a Churcillian connotation. Akhilesh Upadhayay in his new book In the Margins of the Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck, uses this strip as an entry point to explore a region adjoining Nepal, Bhutan, China, Sikkim, Darjeeling, India’s northeast and the tectonics that shaped its geo-strategic terrain.&nbsp; Upadhyay’s Chicken Neck is an organic whole, connected through centuries by transboundary traders, travellers, monks, spies, missionaries, mountaineers, and more. And as infrastructure and connectivity improves, smaller countries like Nepal and Bhutan (and earlier Sikkim) are caught up in the region’s rivalries. The tri-junction of the Chicken’s Neck is a potential flashpoint that has obsessed India’s military strategists ever since Partition in 1947 and the formation of East Pakistan, and the Chinese annexation of Tibet. India found itself squeezed between Chumbi Valley in China to the north and Pakistan to the south. So, when Sikkim started acting too independent for its own good 50 years ago, India engineered its annexation and turned it into its 22nd state. The 1962 Sino-Indian war elevated its strategic importance even more. Alarm bells ring in New Delhi each time there is trouble around the Chicken’s Neck: the Naxalite uprising had to be swiftly crushed, the Indian military moved in to liberate Bangladesh, Gorkhaland and ULFA activities were dangerously nearby, Bhutan had to be appeased. Every once in a while things would flare up between India and China, as in the 2017 Doklam standoff.&nbsp; And last year’s regime change in Bangladesh has rattled New Delhi enough to deploy its Rafael fighters and BrahMos cruise missiles in the Chicken’s Neck. It is now the most densely militarised strip of real estate in this part of the world. &nbsp; As a journalist and former editor of Kathmandu Post, Upadhyay also peers at the Chicken’s Neck through Nepal’s perspective. After all, Jhapa (where the author is originally from) sits right there astride India’s strategic lifeline.&nbsp; Geopolitics is at the front and centre of the book that takes readers back to the time Nepal was a closed Himalayan kingdom.&nbsp; Nepal may be a yam between two boulders, but it may just as well be a thicker Chicken’s Neck as far as New Delhi and Beijing are concerned. Nepal’s rulers have always had to walk the tightrope between China and India. Khampa guerrillas, covertly helped by American and Indian intelligence, raided Chinese military convoys from bases in Nepal, and King Mahendra had to do some intricate diplomatic footwork. India is often described as Nepal’s closest friend, but our relations with China go back as long in terms of the Lhasa trade, Bhrikuti and Arniko, religious exchanges and people-to-people relations. While Nepali researchers are wary of touching on Chinese, Indian or American sensitivities, Upadhyay’s journalistic background means he has no qualms about tackling the subject head-on, and objectively. He spent more than a year researching the book, sniffing around Siliguri, Bagdogra, Naxalbari, Darjeeling and the villages on the Jhapa side. Then he travelled to Olangchung Gola to listen to ordinary people of the Himalayan rimlands. Despite the perception about rigid frontiers between nation states, the book hints at how absurd the notion is. The Chicken’s Neck is also a wild elephant migration corridor, disturbed by the India-Bangladesh border fence, new expressway embankments, airport runways, and expanding cities. Similarly, the people on the Nepal-tibet border used to cross over to graze yaks — this expanded the gene pools of not just the yaks but also the nomadic humans who moved with the herds.&nbsp; Despite the hard borders, trade flourishes. Upadhyay marvels that a shop in Phungling in Taplejung has embroidered saris from Siliguri and fluffy jackets from China. he finds that residents in the northeastern and southeastern tips of Nepal have more in common with kin across the border in Tibet or India than with someone from Kathmandu. Nepal was once one of the biggest trade hubs in ancient times, and our products were treated as equals in Indian border cities. People too, could move freely, especially if they were and are from bordering Tarai cities.&nbsp; Nepal’s rich history and culture was shaped by the proximity to neighbours, and despite borders it is still cemented by marriages and trade — especially in the Nepali-speaking lands to the east. Its geographical positioning makes Nepal not landlocked but land-linked, adjacent to the largest emerging economies of the world. Nepal needs to deploy its soft power with effective diplomacy to take advantage of these two empires, and not be choked by their rivalry. The book was going to press when the GenZ protests ignited in September, but Upadhyay nevertheless managed to insert the current political transition into the pages with deft editing. &nbsp;The final section of the book examines at least three possible scenarios that may unfold as South Asia continues to be shaped by great power rivalries and imperial contests that have weakened the unilateral influence of the west.&nbsp; Akhilesh Upadhyay extrapolates from the Chicken’s Neck, zooming out for a wider perspective on the Subcontinent. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="In the Margins of Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck NT"> </figure>

Some chicken, some neck

Mithila art has represented Nepal’s indigenous culture, passing down through generations in the Madhes. Now, noted artist S C Suman explores this tradition with a bit of modern touch that gives it added relevance. Each of his paintings at the ‘Mithila Cosmos VII: Journey of a Pilgrim’ exhibition at Siddhartha Art Gallery exudes culture, colours and feminism, but with added improvisations that make it contemporary. “Mithila is an art form that is mostly used by women. Women have been the ones who preserve culture and pass it to other people and upcoming generations. The art form is what it is today because of women,” explains Suman. Inaugurating the exhibition on oMonday, art historian Julia Llyod Williams spoke fondly of Nepal and Mithila art, relating how she once bought a Mithila painting she liked without knowing its historical and cultural importance to the Mithila civilisation.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216031232_729d03089084a1bc79b0678766a09e13dcd9236ebd628795eb3b8c3aafcf8981.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251216031232_729d03089084a1bc79b0678766a09e13dcd9236ebd628795eb3b8c3aafcf8981" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Mithala exhibition NT"></figure>  Suman is a self-taught artist, textile designer and a radio host from Biratnagar, and one of the country’s most celebrated artists, with national and international honours. He has held 14 solo exhibitions and numerous group shows in Nepal and all over the world. “With Mithila Cosmos, Suman brings his artistic evolution into a deeper, more traditional realm, where pilgrimage is shaped not only by movement but by cultural memory and sacred stories,” says Sangeeta Thapa of Siddhartha Art Gallery. The seventh edition of the exhibition explores and displays reflections of pilgrimage, sharing the artist’s physical and spiritual experience with viewers. The first of this series was exhibited in 2007. “I am confident that this edition will also win visitors’ hearts. In the past, different dimensions of Mithila art were presented through this series. This time around as well, I have tried to give viewers a new perspective,” says Suman.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216031232_2626f5a28e0051157af5d7f414128a1893645ddda02c955448103f4e92078385.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251216031232_2626f5a28e0051157af5d7f414128a1893645ddda02c955448103f4e92078385" data-rendition-name="original" width="1191" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Mithala exhibition NT"></figure>  The exhibition is displayed on two floors of the gallery and includes paintings of Swayambhu, Pashupati, Lord Ganesh, Krishna, Ram Sita Bibabah among other renderings. Explains Suman: “The Pashupatin painting depicts the evolution of the temple, and since I live near Swayambhu, the mantra chanted there gives me energy, inspiring me to paint the shrine.” Use of colour, especially hues of blue, grab the attention of the viewers creating a sublime experience. ‘Samundra Manthan’ depicts how Lord Shiva drank poison to save the world. All the elements of the episode including Vasuki Nag, Kamdhenu and others are elaborately depicted. This carries on the Mithila tradition of telling stories by showing them through art. ‘Ram Sita Bibah’ shows the story of Ram and Sita in an intricate and intimate manner, and this is followed by the Banbas series, where Lord Ram is expelled from the palace, owing to family politics for power. In ‘Banbas I’, when crossing a river, the person rowing the boat asks to cleanse Lord Ram’s feet and then only allow him to board the boat, and pictorialises the storyline of the Ramayana. Similarly ‘Nava Durga’ is painted over canvas, has mantra painted all over the background and comprises ten avatars of Goddess Durga that is worshipped throughout Dasain.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216031232_7a24f7f8d264d7bd204b8f475d1e86dc6fe70765487c37ebed85da8117081a80.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251216031232_7a24f7f8d264d7bd204b8f475d1e86dc6fe70765487c37ebed85da8117081a80" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1570" loading="lazy" alt="Mithala exhibition NT"></figure>  “I finished the Nava Durga painting in the ten days of Dasain. Each day I used to wake up, do my daily puja and then sit for painting. No matter what, I separated time to paint even during festivities,” Suman says, showing how the paintings are a deeply reverential devotional artform. ‘Geeta Saar’ is an equally breathtaking exposition from the Bhagavad Gita, the blues once again giving the show a tranquil ambience. Visitors at the exhibition do not just walk past the works hanging on the walls of Siddhartha Art Gallery, they stand in front of each of them for a minute or two, almost in prayer. The Mithila Cosmos exhibition series started when the Maoist conflict was still taking place, and today it is taking place in the aftermath of recent protests during which government buildings surrounding the gallery were all torched. Suman’s ‘Journey of a Pilgrim’ makes us ponder how it all fits in with Nepal’s history, culture and faith. Says Suman, “My aim is to bring stories of the Valley, Madhes and other cultures into a single canvas. I have tried to find ways to incorporate Nepal’s diversity in every single painting.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216031236_89a12ff1908123e079cb08b77e37a4a875544e6baa6c9c1f4bfdba52b99e4287.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251216031236_89a12ff1908123e079cb08b77e37a4a875544e6baa6c9c1f4bfdba52b99e4287" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1015" loading="lazy" alt="Mithila exhibition NT"></figure>  Mithila Cosmos VII: Journey of a Pilgrim Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Revisited Till 10 January 11:00am – 5:00pm

Pilgrimage to the Mithila cosmos

Violations of Nepal’s airspace during WWII

In 2025, Nepal’s Ministry of Tourism <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry" target="_blank">added six new 8,000m peaks </a>to those listed on its website. These are subsidiary summits of <a href="https://explorersweb.com/kangchenjungas-challenging-confusing-subpeaks/" target="_blank">Kangchenjunga</a> and <a href="https://explorersweb.com/through-the-unknown-to-the-impossible-lhotse-middle/" target="_blank">Lhotse</a>, which some view as insufficiently independent to be called separate peaks. In 2024, the international mountaineering federation (UIAA) responded to a request by the Nepal Mountaineering Association (NMA) and the government to officially recognise these peaks. While recognising that ‘there is no one definition of a “mountain” or a “peak” or a “top” or “point” in topographic terms’, and encouraging further debate the UIAA’s opinion was that the 8,000m peaks should continue to the ‘Classic 14’, first completed by Reinhold Messner in 1986. The degree of prominence and isolation of <a href="https://www.climbing.com/news/new-8000-meter-mountains-nepal/?scope=initial" target="_blank">the six new peaks </a>varies, with Yalung Kang having the strongest claim to being a separate peak with a prominence of 135m, but they are all separate enough to be included on some peak-bagging lists. The UIAA’s own list of 4,000m summits in the European Alps includes Punta Giordani with a prominence of only 6m. Whatever the case for the six peaks being geographically separate mountains, they represent significant climbing challenges. They are not minor tops that can simply be ‘bagged’ on route to a main summit. In the case of <a href="https://explorersweb.com/through-the-unknown-to-the-impossible-lhotse-middle/" target="_blank">Lhotse Middle and Lhotse Shar</a>, no one has ever managed to traverse between them and Lhotse itself.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260107080144_881321a6e46818beb7bbd4fe6f21589d89d19bf77ae8218474d373ef7ab0c431.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260107080144_881321a6e46818beb7bbd4fe6f21589d89d19bf77ae8218474d373ef7ab0c431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2888" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="New 8,000ers"><figcaption>Nepal’s 8 existing 8,000ers: Chomolungma 8,848.86, Kangchenjunga 8,586, Lhotse 8,516, Makalu 8,485, Manaslu 8,163, Dhaulagiri 8,167, Annapurna 8,091, Cho Oyu 8,201. Photo: GOOGLE EARTH PRO</figcaption></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260107080144_27bf905c1a559c46819dc96ca33d22c27fc301d415fc034f26b8acd105c12da7.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260107080144_27bf905c1a559c46819dc96ca33d22c27fc301d415fc034f26b8acd105c12da7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="976" loading="lazy" alt="New 8,000ers"><figcaption>Nepal has listed six additional 8,000ers: Yalung Kang (8,505, Yalung Kang West 8,077, Kanchenjunga Central (8,473, Kanchenjunga South 8,476, Lhotse Middle 8,410, and Lhotse Shar 8,400. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>  Several fine routes have already been climbed on these mountains, such as Slovenians Andrej Štremfelj and Marko Prezelj’s alpine style ascent of the South-West Ridge of Kangchenjunga South. The six peaks have not yet achieved universal acceptance, but it is possible that climbing an expanded list of 20 eight-thousanders could become a new mountaineering challenge, just as the 14 classic peaks are today. It is therefore interesting to analyse who is currently closest to achieving this goal, using data from The Himalayan Database and other Internet research. The first conclusion of my analysis is that these six additional peaks have received far less attention than the classic 14 eight-thousanders. One of them, Yalung Kang West, has never been climbed or even attempted: probably because it is a subsidiary peak of <a href="https://explorersweb.com/kangchenjungas-challenging-confusing-subpeaks/" target="_blank">Yalung Kang</a> which is itself a subsidiary peak. The other five peaks have seen a total of 138 ascents. Just 101 people have ever climbed one or more of the additional peaks, which compares with 354 people who climbed Everest on a single day: 23 May 2019. Russian Evgeni Vinogradski is unique in having climbed five of the six new peaks. He has also climbed six of the classic 8,000ers, giving him a total of 11 out of the 20 peaks on the expanded list. Vinogradski is now 80 and is unlikely to increase this total. Several other former Soviet climbers have climbed three of the new peaks, having participated in the 1989 traverse of the four main summits of Kangchenjunga. This includes two legends of Soviet climbing: Kazakh Anatoli Boukreev and Ukrainian Sergey Bershov, each of whom has climbed 13 out of the 20 peaks on the extended list. Boukreev died attempting Annapurna in 1997. Bershov, one of the only men to have ever climbed Lhotse South Face, is now 78 and, although he was in good form when I met him in Chamonix last summer, he is unlikely to further extend his tally. The addition of the new peaks does not take any of these climbers beyond the total of 14 peaks achieved by the 76 climbers who have completed the classic ‘Himalayan Crown’. Of those who have climbed all 14 classic eight-thousanders, only one, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/um-hong-gil-s-project-impossible" target="_blank">Korean Um Hong-Gil</a>, has climbed any of the six additional peaks.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260107080144_5651fc6445f5e5fd838f28e1eac1da45da136b309a4a00db1e4aafa7d4836251.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260107080144_5651fc6445f5e5fd838f28e1eac1da45da136b309a4a00db1e4aafa7d4836251" data-rendition-name="original" width="2142" height="1310" loading="lazy" alt="New 8,000ers"><figcaption>Only one mountaineer, Korean Um Hong-Gil, has climbed any of the six additional peaks.</figcaption></figure>  Um climbed both Lhotse Shar and Yalung Kang, giving him a total of 16 summits. He required four attempts to climb Lhotse Shar, including one attempt in which he turned back just 100m from the summit following the deaths of two teammates. He finally succeeded in 2007 via a route up the Lhotse South Face. If a race to climb all 20 eight-thousanders were to begin, Um is currently in the lead. <a href="https://www.himalayandatabase.com/" target="_blank">The Himalayan Database</a> also lists two additional mountains in Nepal not included among the peaks announced by the Ministry of Tourism: Annapurna Central and Annapurna East. If these are included, bringing the total to 22 peaks, a few additional climbers deserve mention. Poles Piotr Pustelnik and the great Jerzy Kukuczka have both climbed all 14 classic eight-thousanders as well as Annapurna East, giving them 15 out of 22. Swiss climber Erhard Loretan climbed all 14 as well, and both Annapurna subsidiary summits, giving him a total of 16 out of 22 peaks. Annapurna East has a greater prominence than some of the 6 new peaks proposed by Nepal, but Broad Peak Central in the Karakoram has the greatest prominence of any subsidiary 8000m summit. Kukuczka has also climbed Broad Peak Central, so if the list is extended to 23 peaks, he has 16, equal with Loretan and Um. Then, there is a case for Shishapangma Central in China, which further complicates the task of coming up with a definite extended list. At the moment, these subsidiary summits are not attracting a lot of attention: of the 138 summit climbs on them, only 12 occurred in the last 25 years and none since 2011. Most climbers like to have some wide recognition of a target before investing time and money in trying to achieve it, and this may make it hard to build interest. But as completing the classic 8,000m peaks starts to become a rather frequent occurrence, some may be attracted to the longer list. If this new challenge catches on, as the Ministry of Tourism presumably hopes, how long will it be before someone passes Um Hong-Gil’s total and how long before someone climbs all 20 or 22 or 23 summits? <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/dispelling-myths-about-climbing" target="_blank">Edward Morgan</a> is a British author and climber based in Switzerland. His first book, Lhotse South Face - The Wall of Legends, has been published in several languages and his second book, Chasing Mallory's Dream is due out in the UK this year.

The Man Who Shook Our Minds

Saving Panauti's murals

YALA

Coffee guff from Korea

Not taking loyalty for granted

That time of the month

The sins of our mothers

A dystopian motherland

Some chicken, some neck

Pilgrimage to the Mithila cosmos

YALA

Saving Panauti's murals

Violations of Nepal’s airspace during WWII

New 8,000ers may restart peak-grabbing race