As a struggling photographer in Bhaktapur 30 years ago, Kishor Kayastha could not even afford furniture. Buying a new lens was out of the question. Later, as one of Nepal’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1520">top fashion and travel photographers</a>, Kayastha toured the world, doing shoots in exotic places for famous brands. Money was not as much a limiting factor anymore. Then came the accident. The shoot team was caught in a blizzard in Mustang in 2019, when Kayastha and the horse he was riding tumbled down a steep slope in whiteout conditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025010810014_4df10f4086c81192b5e9fdda030c3d2b2b186b549c9b0683a6922dc4b4699ce6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3714" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250108050116_fe7e94e613c7c6de648043252095475c789260a9a66f88d5d7e349bab9f21c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “My whole life flashed before me,” he recalls, “I was filled with regret for all work I had not done. I suddenly realised all the money in the world cannot buy you life. Miraculously, Kayastha survived and the near-death experience was an epiphany that changed the trajectory of his life. Since then, his photographs have a more dreamlike tone, the visuals documenting an observed reality but transcending it. Which is why a visit to Kishor Kayastha’s ongoing exhibition of 30 ultra-wide panoramas at Nepal Art Council, MUSTANG: A Two-Decade Odyssey, feels like a pilgrimage to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/hibernating-students-of-the-himalaya">Mustang</a>: it is the next best thing to being there oneself. The high resolution prints are vast, some of them 6m wide, and do justice to Mustang’s big sky and the wrinkled, ochre terrain of this arid trans-Himalayan district. Kayastha has been going to Mustang at least four times a year for the past two decades, and the exhibition spans the time in which much has changed with the arrival of the highway, outmigration and climate breakdown. But a lot remains the same. “I first went in 2004 mainly because I could not go to Tibet,” Kayastha relates. “And I found there is a Tibet in Nepal, too. Mustang has always been a refuge, a beyul, to escape the materialistic world of Kathmandu.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250108050116_41d004484b0a3471cc441b23360fe187eda813c19ca26314795215f428ddcbaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250108050116_131a471fb81aa7d0d314bf08bd5912951bb20d0d3b6977e1c1ff523da6456500" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="912" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Kayastha, now 47, was born into photography. His <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14249">parents owned a studio</a> in Bhaktapur, and as a boy he helped his mother in the darkroom, dipping black and white prints into developers and fixers under a dim red light. Today, everyone with a mobile device is taking pictures, but Kayastha believes photography is more relevant than ever: “Selfies have become selfish. Like they said that the invention of the camera would make paintings obsolete, photography is not going away either.” &nbsp; Anyone who has travelled north of Kagbeni, especially <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/mustang-in-shadows-and-light">in the old days</a> before Sumo jeeps replaced mule trains, will appreciate the tranquility of this windswept plateau where time stood still.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250108050116_d478c15cb66377326d0ef88b70f38eaeb9f20b97bd06d7753f04671550881545" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  “The horizon is so wide, the sky so immense, the land so unending that Mustang makes you feel small in the scheme of things. It brings you down to size, both physically and spiritually,” Kayastha says. The extra-wide prints were so big, even the Nepal Art Council’s walls could not accommodate all of them, so Kayastha had to scale some of the photographs down. The sheer size of the images evoke in visitors the finiteness of human existence in time and space.&nbsp; Kayastha speaks to us as he unrolls a stitched panorama of Kagbeni he took in 2004. That image and another one taken from the same spot in 2024 serve as bookends at the exhibition, revealing through repeat photography the passage of time. Kagbeni’s monastery complex is now much bigger, there are new concrete buildings, and scars from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-is-lost-cannot-be-repaid">the great flood last year</a> that tore through town.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250108050116_063acabfe6e991f69e1d5eaace3620b4136f2212135f899a5ac0c4e5011e31e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250108050116_cb401c5d83a34e999f96ab24a69dae2cbe525d575a3a798182ab09bab2490628" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="Eyes wide open in Mustang NT"> </figure>  Yet, beyond and above the Kali Gandaki’s fossil-strewn banks, the russet brown folds in the rock strata remind us that in geological timescale human beings have been here for less than a millisecond of a camera’s shutter speed. Kishor Kayastha’s exhibition forces us to think that Mustang’s fierce afternoon winds will keep sculpting its dyed organ pipe cliffs long after we are not here to see them.&nbsp; MUSTANG: A Two Decade Odyssey by Kishor Kayastha Till 14 January, 11AM-4PM Nepal Art Council

Kunda Dixit

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Review

Eyes wide open in Mustang

For the last thirty years, Kapil Mani Dixit has been obsessed with the naked human figure. All he has painted are female and male nudes.&nbsp; He has drawn the human body so often that he can paint them from memory. The intention is not to draw perfect bodies like Greek statues, but evoke emotions about human force, frailty or beauty among viewers. “I don’t need models anymore,” says Dixit, who has a solo exhibition Lines of Emotions: Nude Expressions at Takpa Gallery this month. The works break the rules to convey human emotions in a raw, unprocessed style. Fingers can look like toes, and eyes can take the place of heads.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/south-asia-in-the-abstract">South Asia in the abstract</a>, Vishad Raj Onta Only seeing it as nude art would not do justice to Dixit’s pieces. In one painting, a warped female figure is lying on her side, her body spilling onto the ground. “The inspiration for this one was when I saw a woman reclining comfortably in a park,” explains Dixit, moving on to another painting also inspired by a park spectacle: a couple embracing, one figure behind the other making the body look double-headed, multi-armed and hugging itself.&nbsp; Dixit keeps the colours simple and does not hide the underpainting on the canvas. The bodies are jarring but fascinating to look at, they are deliberately imperfect as the artist lets his intuition guide the process.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103130144_402251ccfa231c45e24caa509dda3b111c3de2c119605db8473cf02fa03fe5d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250103130144_402251ccfa231c45e24caa509dda3b111c3de2c119605db8473cf02fa03fe5d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="ART"> </figure>  “I don’t paint over mistakes. They don’t matter to me. Sometimes there are six fingers instead of five,” he says. “I work every day, all the time, fast, in flow. I don’t know what’s going to come out when I sit down to paint.” &nbsp; In many of the paintings at his show, Dixit has abandoned the brush and painted with his fingers, likening this to the feeling of sculpting with clay. The spontaneity and improvisation is different from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">traditional Nepali art forms</a>.&nbsp; But Dixit has faced criticism throughout his career for the nudity he portrays, with some saying it is ‘un-Nepali’. When asked, he replies with the air of someone who is tired of answering this question: “That does not make a lot of sense to me, since I am a Nepali and this is my work. Just look at the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-temple-restoration-after-1934-quake">temples in Kathmandu</a>, you see nudity everywhere.” &nbsp;&nbsp; And yet Nepal deserves a lot of credit: it is a lot more tolerant than many other places in the world today. Even in the US, one of Dixit’s exhibitions was deemed suitable only for people 18 and over. There is no such label at Takpa.&nbsp; “Actually, the art audience in Nepal is quite open-minded to new ideas,” he says. “But I still wish my work would start to be seen more as a form of self-expression, rather than just focusing on the nude aspect. My children have no problem saying in school that their Dad is a nude painter.”&nbsp; Indeed, Dixit thinks he was inspired by his father who used to sketch the human body. He shifted later from drawing landscapes to painting the humanscape.&nbsp; Dixit always knew he was going to be an artist, but it was while pursuing fine art at the University of Texas in Austin that he began drawing nudes. “It was pretty unheard of, for a Nepali, to study art. People were always pushing me towards more sensible fields, like tech,” recalls Dixit, who worked fast food, pizza delivery, and gas station jobs to pay his way. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Manandhar-fourth-exhibit-Nepal,2641">Empowering expressionism</a> Dixit says he has gone through phases as an artist, and currently he is fascinated by eyes. Large, complex eyes are present in almost all of the pieces at the Takpa exhibition.“The human eye reveals a person’s naked emotion,” he says. “I started painting eyes during the pandemic after noticing how people’s eyes were full of fear and confusion. And with everyone having masks on, the eyes were much more prominent.”&nbsp; Given the modern taboos about nudity and the lack of understanding of post-impressionist art in Nepal, Kapil Mani Dixit’s exhibition is courageous and contemporary. &nbsp; Lines of Emotions: Nude Expressions by Kapil Mani Dixit Takpa Gallery &nbsp;(4 January - 1 February)

Vishad Raj Onta

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Visible to the naked eye

Four Nepali and four Dutch artists will feature in a project to draw attention to what has been lost as Kathmandu Valley is transformed from an integrated rural-urban society to a metropolis of 4 million people. The transition has happened just in the last 30 years with the growth accelerating after the start of the 10-year conflict in 1996. What was once an emerald valley has turned into a concrete jungle. The NEDNEP3 2024/2026 art project of the eight artists will unfold in two phases with a current show till 5 January in the Netherlands, and during the Kathmandu Triennale in February 2026. The ongoing exhibition is in the northern Dutch city of Haarlem at <a href="https://www.devishal.nl/kunst/from-burning-rice-fields-to-urban-growth/" target="_blank">De Vishal</a>, a popular hub of contemporary art.&nbsp; The exhibition is curated by Dutch artists Erna Anema and Renate Schwarz, who have been frequent visitors to Nepal and they have selected the works of four Nepali artists (Sujan Dangol, Kripa Tuladhar, Sunita Maharjan and Sagar Chhetri) along with artists Maartje Smits and Liesbet Bussche and themselves from The Netherlands. Anema and Schwarz spent five weeks at the ceramics workshop of Dil Bahadur Prajapati in Thimi, making their ceramic sculptures for this project and meeting Nepali artists and planning their collaboration. Sujan Dangol was in The Netherlands during the preparations and the grand opening of the exhibition at De Vishal in Haarlem. He also conducted workshops there and at the renowned Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam.&nbsp; Erna Anema’s work is titled Moraines to Clay and uses clay, oil on canvas in a large installation. She says, “I want to take you on a journey from the pressed clay circles of the Kathmandu Valley supported by sculptures representing the moraines to the towering ice giants of the Himalayas, which are represented on the left wall in sculptural forms.” Anema’s installation includes two clay tiles sourced from one of the valley’s remaining fertile rice fields.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804128_04e9ed612274775036fc408a7d957e446b84402926b535c7b740ccd0b4a84442.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122804128_04e9ed612274775036fc408a7d957e446b84402926b535c7b740ccd0b4a84442" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Erna Anema's Moraines to Clay</figcaption> </figure>  Liesbet Bussche’s Building Rings are grinded and sanded out of clay blocks, a light building material often used in quick expanding areas of the city. The installation of the carved rings is combined with brick dust and explores urban materiality from a makers perspective. Liesbet’s first project with clay was realised with Pukar Risal in 2008 in the streets of Kathmandu during NEDNEP 1. Kripa Tuladhar’s Remembrance of Shadows is made of traditional lokta paper and thread and evokes the Asan neighbourhood, which she says becomes a canvas of its people, marked by those who have passed through it. “Layers of movement from the footsteps of our ancestors, crumbling bricks and windows, and the future pushing its way against the old reshaping it,” she adds, “cutting out these traces in paper, layering them, like the city’s layers of history, memories of the city are encapsulated in fleeting shadows.” Renate Schwarz has sculptures titled Jars of Then and Now with clay and plastic taps that draw attention to water. The abundance of it in the lake that was once Kathmandu Valley, torrential rain, the glacial streams in the mountains. Water irrigated the Valley’s soil, making it fertile. Says Schwarz: “The transformation of the Kathmandu Valley has struck me ever since my first visit in 1984. What a mega tsunami of change has come over this valley … with my sculptures I express the delicate balance between water, clay and craftsmanship.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_92e1b1a2b10f9fc3e91691989bf44302d9b1ce81c77b0187db2c9f0e3579667d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024122804124_92e1b1a2b10f9fc3e91691989bf44302d9b1ce81c77b0187db2c9f0e3579667d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Renate Schwarz's Jars of Then and Now</figcaption> </figure>  Nepali photographer Sagar Chhetri’s Brutality of Geometry explores the definition of land and how earth, soil, vegetation all become monetised commodities. The photographs depict the greed that drives the ecocide of hillsides by real estate ‘plotting’ on the Valley’s rim. The photos show maps of property, and Chhetri explains: “As an artist, I wish to respond to and investigate this geometry of brutality on the land in depth.” Sujan Dangol’s Mandala is a mixed media tribute to the original fertility of Kathmandu Valley with a collection of 54 types of grain, beans, and spices that used to grow here. He also collected bamboo, copper, glass, plastic, and steel utensils to represent the shift from an agricultural era to an industrial one. “The place which we call home—the Earth—is not only ours. Coexistence with animals, birds, plants, insects, water, and soil is essential for the well-being of our Ecosystem,” Dangol says.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_058b88c5a00c1a8ab178b37a734cfb900eeb090d8e5602eb6469049e28300a98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122804124_058b88c5a00c1a8ab178b37a734cfb900eeb090d8e5602eb6469049e28300a98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> <figcaption>Sujan Dangol's Mandala</figcaption> </figure>  Sunita Maharjan’s Curtain of Change is stencil print on handmade cotton and depicts her hometown of Kirtipur, where the ancestral lands of her ancestors are now occupied by Tribhuvan University. “The continuous influx of students has altered the fabric of Kirtipur - both figuratively and literally,” Maharjan says. “In Curtain of Change I want to document and comment on the evolving identity of my hometown, where urbanisation, industrialisation, and educational migration intersect, leaving both visible and invisible marks on the community.” In Wild Bees in the Netherlands Maartje Smits uses letterpress prints on paper to show the &nbsp;sudden disappearance of honeybees in Europe, and how the artist decided to become a beekeeper, hoping it would help. But honeybees are competing for survival with wild bee species. “Just as with the Kathmandu Valley, the Dutch landscape has been hollowed out and built up.” She says. “Food and nesting places for flying pollinators are scarce, so trying to save one species can mean the demise of another.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122804124_16461120522a119da0966d714da5e20f67c123fccc8a029419dc344e5d6b35ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024122804124_16461120522a119da0966d714da5e20f67c123fccc8a029419dc344e5d6b35ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1658" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth"> </figure>  NEDNEP3 2024/2026 From Burning Rice Fields to Urban Growth De Vishal, Haarlem (29 November-5 January) Kathmandu Triennale in Nepal (February 2026)

Rice fields to concrete terraces

This year’s Miami Art Week brought high-profile openings and exhibitions with some exciting exhibitions and installations from South Asia and Nepal. The event was a dynamic mix of galleries, immersive installations and schedule packed with must-see art fairs, pop-ups, and cultural events with Art Basel taking centre stage.&nbsp; This was the 22nd edition of Art Basel and brought in 286 galleries from 38 countries, the largest contemporary art event in US with 75,000 visitors, collectors and art lovers.&nbsp; The Art Week has the NADA fair featuring the work of Nepali ceramic artist Shushank Shrestha, who had a whole booth by the French Gallery, Galerie Lefebvre &amp; Fils. Louis Lefebvre, director of the gallery had reached out to Shrestha last year after seeing photos of his graduating show in New York. &nbsp; A whole booth for a single artist is an honour, and it showcased Shrestha’s 14 brightly coloured ceramic figures that playfully explore mythical characters from Nepali culture and blends it with the artist’s fascination for super-heroes. The figures evoke a touch of humour, childhood memories of fun and family moments.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122508128_49675d8240747eaa76403605db7a0b6767952b0198ab565f65026e3dc9ec9870.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122508128_49675d8240747eaa76403605db7a0b6767952b0198ab565f65026e3dc9ec9870" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artist at Miami Art Week NT"> </figure>  Shrestha’s mastery in the techniques of ceramic making can be observed from the glazed gigantic, free-standing multi-coloured Garuda with extended wings that take centre stage. It has minute details providing an emotional connection to viewers familiar with Nepali culture.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/amalgamation-of-nepali-art">Amalgamation of Nepali art</a> The exhibition drew much attention from visitors, with many marveling at its attractive presentation and the artist’s ability to maneuver the flexible medium into imaginative characters through the coiling technique.&nbsp; The challenge of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/take-to-pottery-during-the-pandemic">ceramic making</a> is that the process from the start to the finish is delicate, the clay itself being sensitive to moisture when moulding and to heat when firing.&nbsp; Shrestha’s booth is a powerful reminder that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali artists have entered the world stage</a> following the footsteps of Lain Singh Bangdel, Siddhimuni Shakya, Lok Chitrakar, Mukti Singh Thapa, Udaya Charan Shrestha, Ang Tsherin Sherpa, Hitman Gurung, Koshal Hamal, Sneha Shrestha, and others.&nbsp; Shushank Shrestha is a Kathmandu-based artist and a graduate of New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University. He received his BFA from Kathmandu University School of Arts in 2016, and his work has been exhibited in Nepal, Pakistan, China, France, and the United States.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122508128_ebfae6a66c43872b968e76df82ca8189b93ca28a5ffe17e5c93ae295953b4ba4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024122508128_ebfae6a66c43872b968e76df82ca8189b93ca28a5ffe17e5c93ae295953b4ba4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artist at Miami Art Week NT"> </figure>  Galerie Lefebvre &amp; Fils was founded by Henri Lefebvre in 1880 with an eclectic collection and has a legacy of exchanges with museum curators and ties with private collectors. In 2009, the gallery started to focus on contemporary ceramics, highlighting the renewing nature of the medium and its relevance to society.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-art-now-in-vienna">Nepal Art Now in Vienna</a> Another highlight of the art week was the Great Elephant Migration from India. The installation on Miami’s South Beach featured a hundred life size elephants from the <a href="https://www.unesco.org/en/mab/nilgiri">Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve</a> in South India. The individual elephants were all hand crafted by <a href="https://www.therealelephant.com/coexsistence-collective">Coexistence Collective</a>, a group of 200 local indigenous artisans and designed by <a href="https://www.shubhranayar.com/">Shubhra Nayar</a>.&nbsp; The elephants are made from an invasive weed that crowds out other native species and reduces biodiversity threatening to overtake the natural habitat of Indian elephants. The project also provides sustainable income for the local community through 20 villages with workshops that make the elephants.&nbsp; Ashish Kapoor, a London-based Indian artist, sucks viewers into a vertiginous concavity that confound our perception. &nbsp;Wangechi Mutu, a Kenyan American multi-disciplinary artist presents culturally specific and transnational presentations of contemporary realities, while offering new models for a radically changed future informed by feminism, Afrofuturism, and interspecies symbiosis.&nbsp; Swosti Rajbhandari Kayastha is curator at the Nepal Art Council.&nbsp;

Nepali artist at Miami Art Week

The Rosi River today flows serenely through the sacred 13th century town of Panauti, nestled amidst green hills east of Kathamandu. But on 28 September it was a disaster zone.&nbsp; Rainfall of biblical proportions lashed the valley for three straight days, and the angry brown water of the Rosi bulldozed through the town. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Climate breakdown </a>played a part, but the destruction was magnified by unregulated stone and sand mining upstream that fed Kathmandu’s demand for construction material. Across central Nepal, 250 were killed, 25 in Panauti alone. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tarai-learns-from-past-floods">Encroachment of rivers</a> here in Panauti and elsewhere is not new. Gwancha Deula, 70, would know. He used to catch up to 15kg of fish in a single day from the Rosi. He proudly remembers once lifting a Bam Macha nearly a metre long. But garbage dumping and contamination with insecticides has killed the river. ‘Let alone those cold water trout, even the insects have disappeared,’ Deula tells photographer Prashant Shrestha in his new book 10 People’s Stories -- a compilation of photo stories and archival images of inspirational Panauti people. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">The revenge of the rivers</a>, Shamshad Ahmad in Kavre Shrestha’s own grandfather, Narayandas Shrestha, ran a local watermill when he was 16 and served the community. Then, the construction of a Soviet-aid hydropower plant generating electricity for Kathmandu, urban encroachment, and availability of processed food made his profession obsolete.&nbsp; ‘The stream died,’ Shrestha writes, “and traditional watermills evolved into the modern mills.’ Two chapters about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/somewhere-else/think-locally-act-locally">local political activists</a> speak of a bygone era when idealism was still held in high esteem. One is a lifelong Kangresi and the other a Soviet-returnee Communist. ‘Physically, he limps, but his spirit has never faltered in his 78 years of life,’ writes Sunil Sainju, who wrote the text for the book, of Madhav Narayan Pasache, who started his political activism during the Rana regime and remains dedicated to the Nepali Congress. Pasache played a crucial role in an anti-government movement 70 years ago, and was jailed five times, and tourtured. Once, he was left to die after being tied up and thrown into a deep well. He managed to live and was thrown back into jail. He worked in the prision’s kitchen, but was not allowed to eat what he cooked.&nbsp; Thakur Bhakta Karmacharya has been a life-long Communist, and became a card-carrying member soon after the party was established 70 years ago. He was invited to the Soviet Union, and spent much of his time in what is now Uzbekistan. He is pictured above, arriving at Moscow airport.&nbsp; ‘I travelled to Russia via Delhi and then Kabul,’ he calls. ‘I got to see progress in Russia and attended many political meetings, but what impressed me the most was their love for books. That inspired me to start a library in Panauti…’&nbsp; A book about Paunati or its people cannot be complete without touching on its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/ancient-panauti-s-french-connection">French connection</a>. One chapter looks into an unlikely friendship between Ananta Madhikarmi and French ethnologist Gérard Toffin in 1974.&nbsp; The two explored the valley together, and their research was published. The book generating much interest in France, leading to the French government's involvement in the restoration and urban renewal of Panauti from 1979-1989. The slim volume also has profiles of a photographer, a musician, the once-in-12-year Makar Mela and a month-long Swasthani ritual. Each chapter could be much longer, there is so much more we would like to know about the person profiled.&nbsp; 10 People’s Stories is a tribute to the spirit of the people of Panauti who have worked tirelessly to uplift their community while keeping a low national profile.&nbsp; Published by Panauti Municipality, the volume is proof that despite the doom and gloom among Nepalis about their future, the past holds lessons in resilience and determination. &nbsp;Because nothing is quite as uplifting and inspirational as growing up with local heroes one can look up to.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241222091236_8db32259e6d5e908300b18bac3306487ee3cf18b7c90b875a3bac07f144bf57b" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="395" loading="lazy" alt="People's stories"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Sonia Awale

Panauti People

Chandra Prasad Gurung grew up in the village of Sikles below the Annapurnas where he was steeped at a young age in the rhythms of the seasons that determined planting, harvesting, herding livestock to high pasture, and sustainable natural resource management. These were indigenous practices of the Gurung community passed down through generations: collective decision-making to take just enough from nature to allow it to recover. That was how the seed of a new conservation ethos was planted in Chandra Gurung’s mind, later to flower when he went on to complete two masters degrees and a PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii. On return to Nepal, the King Mahendra Trust for Nature Conservation included him in a task force to design a national park for the Annapurnas with Mingma Sherpa and Broughton Coburn. The team crisscrossed the entire region in 1985 for two months on foot from Sikles to Ghorepani, from Manang to Lo Manthang just as trekker numbers on the circuit were increasing.&nbsp; What the team heard from people in tea shops and verandahs was almost unanimous: we do not want a national park here. Locals had heard about Chitwan, Sagarmatha and Rara where residents were either evicted or restricted from taking part in traditional activities by national park authorities.&nbsp; So, the team methodically planned interventions to allow a balance between lifting living standards with environmental protection. What if conservation itself paid for development and improved the lives of residents?&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Conserving-conservation,151">Conserving conservation</a>, Sara Parker Their findings were presented to the government, and approved. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/municipalities-want-to-manage-annapurna">The Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) </a>was a departure from the western-inspired model of complete wilderness protection by resettling people out of their ancestral lands. The Conservation Area concept was later replicated in Manaslu, Rolwaling, Kangchenjunga and Api Saipal. Chandra was working on a book documenting details of the step-by-step approach to establishing ACAP and other protected areas. At age 56, Gurung and Mingma Sherpa along with Nepal’s top conservationists were among the 24 people killed in a helicopter crash in 2006 after a handover ceremony of the 2,000 sq km Kangchenjunga Conservation Area to local communities in Ghunsa.&nbsp; Chandra’s manuscript had been lost, but was fortuitously located at the Blue Mountains National Park in the garage of an Australian academic by Hum Gurung, a student of Chandra. Hum then worked with the Chandra Gurung Conservation Foundation to posthumously publish the book, Caring for the Annapurna, which was launched last week in Kathmandu. “It was Chandra Gurung’s dream to document the history and evolution of ACAP, which was the first program that integrated conservation and human development,” says Hum Gurung, who is now with BirdLife International. “It was a paradigm shift in how to protect nature while ensuring community development.” Indeed, the belief in the conservation academia at the time was that Nepal’s poorest were responsible for deforestation and people had to be evicted from national parks which needed to be guarded by the army. This meant indigenous communities were resettled outside nature reserves, and their traditional conservation practices were gradually lost. Chandra Gurung was the Nepal representative of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/world-lost-2-3-of-its-animals-in-50-years-wwf-report">World Wildlife Fund (WWF) </a>when he died, and this book has to be read in conjunction with A Boy from Sikles: The Life and Times of Chandra Gurung by Manjushree Thapa that reveals more of Chandra’s personal life, his efforts to appease Nepal’s royalty, and the struggles he waged as an outsider against the Kathmandu bureaucracy.&nbsp; The book Caring for the Annapurna encapsulates Chandra Gurung’s ethos that biodiversity is threatened because responsibility for its protection has been taken away from local communities who know best how to live in harmony with nature, and national parks were fenced off to be managed by civil servants in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/protecting-nepal-s-parks-by-saving-buffer-zones">Protecting Nepal’s parks by saving buffer zones</a>, Teri D Allendorf ‘It became obvious to us that unless the local people’s basic needs are addressed, the conservation program, no matter how carefully designed, would not succeed,’ Chandra writes. Such thinking may sound like development cliché today, but was a revolutionary new way to look at conservation in the 1980s. Forty years later, Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA) and other reserves are being threatened by a recentralised structure despite Nepal’s 2015 Constitution having theoretically devolved decision-making to local governments. The Ministry of Forests seems to think trees are a resource to be monetised rather than protected. One of Chandra Gurung’s close conservation comrade was Hemanta Mishra, a tiger conservationist who was instrumental in getting Chitwan declared a national park in 1973. Mishra writes in the Foreword to the book, ‘Chandra was a key member of the band of brothers in our battle to save the natural and cultural heritage of our motherland. His mantra was: hard-working, networking and team working … and that was the secret of his successful model of balancing human needs with nature conservation.’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241222081256_699c373772ad66faaa68ecd0b98cefedadbd3417ba5d430a1955470c34cc7fd9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241222081256_699c373772ad66faaa68ecd0b98cefedadbd3417ba5d430a1955470c34cc7fd9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Caring for the Annapurna book details NT"> </figure>

Chandra’s Annapurna

‘Romans might not feel so proud of their Caesar.’ That is a sentence from Laxmi Prasad Devkota’s essay describing King Mahendra’s 1956 crowning ceremony in his book, Coronation Day in Kathmandu and Other Essays. Devkota is honoured as Nepal’s Great Poet (महाकवि) and mostly wrote essays, epics and poetry in Nepali language. His English was elaborate, effusive, and followed the grandiose style of the day. ‘I felt that if this delicate golden thread snapped, a long trail of woes and confusions would ensue,’ he wrote in fulsome praise of the monarchy. Devkota died of lung cancer three years after Mahendra’s coronation. The book has 27 other essays in English on various subjects and they range from tirades, odes, satires, to experiments of the imagination where Devkota invents a situation to make a point. His writings are characterised by an unrelenting barrage of metaphor. ‘But it is his type that have on the strength of mustard leaves, maize pulp or nettle lifted our nation into military glory!’ gushes Devkota about the miserable yet enduring lives of ‘The Wood Cutters of Nepal’. Although he was appointed Minister of Education in 1957, Devkota himself was used to hard times -- he writes about ducking creditors and how 12 pay days in a year are all he lives for. Devkota had a deep understanding of and love for Nepal, yet he is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5450">brutal in his criticism</a>. ‘The Electric Bulb’ was written out of deep frustration about a feeble light bulb so dim he could not work at night. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-genius-of-shakuntala-in-nepali">The genius of Shakuntalā in Nepali</a> These lines could be written about contemporary Nepal: ‘Dependence is a national virtue, with a verbal swagger about age-long independence. As a nation we have no vision and no attempt at self-sufficiency. We have no contribution to an advancing globe.’ He makes similar acidic observations about Indians: ‘The Benarasi is a true gentleman or political scoundrel whose god is pelf and creed. He intellectualises goondaism till it becomes a fine social art.’ Devkota understands the importance of tradition, pointing out how religious rituals bring with them discipline and exercise. Yet, in ‘The Joint Family and the Mother-in-Law,’ he describes how it is untenable for the whole clan to live under the same roof. Mother and wife fight for attention from the husband or son and play nasty tricks of jealousy on each other. In ‘A Dream in Politics’ Devkota conjures up himself dreaming that his wife has become a powerful politician. He then details how a candidate might start out with the best intentions, but would eventually see how impossibly corrupt it all was and resort to greed and unkept promises. Devkota’s literary achievements would have been great no matter what language he had been born into. The essays provide intimate details of his life as a writer, father, husband, and political adviser. They also are historical accounts of Nepal and Kathmandu at the time, and what stands out is how much Hinduism and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-caste-struggle">the caste system</a> seem to be a part of everyday life. In ‘Pleasure in Humiliation’ Devkota details his cash-poor student days when he had to borrow textbooks from friends because he could not afford his own. He tutored English six hours a day to get by. He struggles in science subjects, but seems to have an aptitude and memory for the English language. In one exam, after only two days of study, Devkota scores 75%, while his Rana classmates score much less. He tutors his classmates and is once summoned by a grandfather who complains about his higher scores in English. But he is vindicated when another tutor verifies his marks. There are parts of essays that are so dense and verbose that they are hard to read. In ‘Against Literature’ Devkota tries to make the point that a lot of contemporary writing had become insincere and removed from original experience. “If the beat of our heart must be rendered artificial or unnatural by the very intrusion of special attention upon its function, we may reasonably ask whether literature which is its expression as an over-conscious business may not be an abnormal expression in mechanical terms of the spiritual life of man, so often felt as the elusive quality of inner emotion harped upon with such frequency by the masters of the literary trade.’ See what I mean? All he is trying to say is that one should write how one feels, not how you think you should feel. The book was reprinted recently by FinePrint, and we do not know if the typos and mistakes in grammar were in the original. Nevertheless: a good way to be introduced to Nepal’s greatest poet via the English language.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Coronation Day Laxmi Prasad Devkota"></figure>

Laxmi Prasad Devkota in English

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)

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

Villages along the proposed alignment of Nepal’s ambitious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/putting-nepal-on-the-right-track">east-west train project</a> are excited about the connectivity and development it will bring. But here in Hariban village there is only apprehension. While elsewhere, there are environmental concerns about the train track slicing through national parks and protected forests, here along the densely populated Tarai plains there is worry about losing farmlands. “This project will cost me a big chunk of my land,” says Dinesh Mahato, who farms a small plot in the Ghurkauli village near the East-West Highway. “Why should I agree to give it all away when I will only be compensated partially?” Hari Narayan Mahato echoes his brother’s anger. “The map shows that I have to give up nearly 700 sq m of land, but I know the area is going to be three times bigger once construction begins,” he says. “It’s just not worth it.” There is also opposition in the Dhanpati locality, and 10 households from these two villages have refused to accept the government’s compensation rate for land which they say is much less than market value.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250105050152_41071574c82ba8f9698b8b7fdecb3ebf280dd314b1175262d961f76dc6d6ad5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1292" height="821" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The East-West Electric Railway project will ultimately be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">Nepal’s transportation </a>artery stretching from the eastern border with India in Jhapa to Kanchanpur, connecting 24 districts. It will intersect with the proposed Birganj-Kathmandu railway at a junction in Sarlahi district. When completed, Nepal’s 950km long ‘gateway to prosperity’ as it has been dubbed, will have 123 stations, 10 tunnels, 334 bridges, a dam, and a 132kV transmission line to supply electricity to the locomotives. The project will require the acquisition of about 4,520 hectares of land, including 518 plots belonging to 4,000 households. Some of this will be along corridors through Chitwan, Bardia, Banke and Sukla Phanta <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/does-nepal-need-the-army-to-guard-parks">National Parks</a> and other nature reserves. Controversy about land acquisition and compensation as well as environmental impact have stalled the project since 2010. “The biggest issue has been compensation for land,” admits Kamal Kumar Shah of the Department of Railways. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/india-china-rail-race">India-China rail race</a>, Shristi Karki This means less than half of the work along the 70km Bardibas-Nijgad segment has been completed and 16 bridges built, and this is the first section of the railway where construction started 15 years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250105050148_9e1de8c104dcbd239a70d4a3abda71579f86502c8b9f4cdd7e184aeef90eb638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Says Senior Division Engineer Kiran Karki: “It is difficult to work here, people have built houses in public land, knowing that the railway is coming. How do we ask them to leave?” Part of the delay is also due to lack of budget, and this has increased the initial estimate of the total cost because of the increase in land value. The government has nationalised over 190 hectares for the Kakadbhitta-Inaruwa section of the railway in the eastern Tarai for which it will have to distribute Rs24.41 billion in compensation. But the budget allocated for that is only Rs1.5 billion. This means farmers have lost their land, but have not yet been compensated. The East-West Railway line was initially estimated to cost around Rs1 billion per km, but this has increased to Rs1.5 billion per km. Just the first Bardibas-Nijgad section will need an additional Rs50 billion to complete. The estimate for the entire project was estimated at Rs955 billion, but a revised budget has already surpassed Rs1.5 trillion. A major bridge across the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/kosi-now-kathmandu-next">Kosi</a> north of the barrage on the Indian border is expected to cost more than Rs410 billion. The &nbsp;Detailed Project Report (DPR) has been revised to build an elevated line over towns in the Butwal section, for example, to avoid paying exorbitant compensation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> “This project works on multi-year contracts, which have been difficult to award due to a lack of budget,” says Shah. “So the date of completion of the project depends on money being forthcoming.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250105050148_addd8a08b727efb1bf1f71752dce1a28d6ea2e9d5f76dafe5dbc9a53a223c5e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Meanwhile, activists have raised concern over the project’s environmental cost. The Railway Department has prepared DPRs for four sections of the railway, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/from-nowhere-to-nowhere">Environmental Impact Assessments (EIA)</a> have not been carried out. In Chitwan, the proposed route was realigned to avoid Chitwan National Park following a Supreme Court stay order. However, Chitwan residents have now formed a Railway Victims’ Struggle Committee, saying that the new route would cut through their densely populated communities. “We only found that our land would be part of the railway line when the people from the Railway Department came here last year,” says Hari Thapaliya of Bharatpur Municipality. “The decision to reroute the track was made overnight without any consultation with us.” Angered locals had set fire to a Railway Department vehicle when a survey team reached Krishnapur in July. Bharatpur Deputy Mayor Chitrasen Adhikari says the Railway Department did not even coordinate with the municipality about the new route. “We have proposed an alternate route to the Department,” she adds. “This project affects the livelihoods of people across <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/fogbound-tarai">the Tarai</a>, their concerns must be heard, and they must be included in the decision-making process,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250105050148_682ed3ef3e398592f098d1ac638faa4d3b7517515e0f1b2014cb9c4383e6d9c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  The problem is that 53% of Nepal’s total population now lives along the narrow strip of plains along the Indian border through which the railway line will pass. The Railway Department is squeezed between the need to balance environmental concerns with high compensation demands of locals. Conservationists have maintained that the railway alignment will go through ecologically sensitive areas, disturbing and fragmenting the habitat of endangered species, blocking their migration routes and disrupting water and food sources. All of this could in turn increase <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/human-animal-interface-in-nepal-wildlife-corridor">human-wildlife conflict</a>. Experts have suggested measures to invest in ‘ecological offsetting’ programs that help in the creation of new protected areas, restoration projects, and wildlife underpass and overpass corridors. There is also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-pre-monsoon-forest-fires-in-nepal">concern about the forests </a>that have to be sacrificed. Already, 13,500 trees have been cut down in the Bardibas-Nijgad section alone. The Sagarnath Forest, which stretches from Sarlahi to Mahottari, and areas under the Rautahat Division Forest also lie along the proposed alignment. Surya Raj Acharya blames inadequate monitoring and evaluation during the preparation of the DPR because government agencies lack sufficient technical capacity and experience in the railway sector.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250105050148_7823653d3f037122441c11f6485c5407acc716811bedf464255aefe3a76d97f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  He adds, “Transparent financial planning and management are necessary to ensure the project’s sustainability and economic viability. But the contracts have been hurriedly awarded without proper land acquisition. An urgent review is necessary.” All this needs stronger political will and coordination between various agencies which is sorely lacking not just in the east-west railway project, but in other infrastructure schemes as well. When built, the nearly 1,000 km long railway will streamline cargo and passenger traffic, making it cheaper and more convenient for ordinary people. Railway junctions can also facilitate the north-south transshipment of goods and passenger traffic when coordinated with public transport. Transport costs for exports and imports from India will also be slashed. “A high-speed train running at 200 to 250km per hour will mean that trains will get from Kathmandu to Dhangadi faster than planes, and at much cheaper fares,” notes Acharya. Trains will also reduce carbon emissions by up to 30% compared to trucks and buses. Train lines will be the backbone of Nepal’s transportation system, boosting tourism in the Kathmandu, Chitwan and Lumbini triangle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250105050148_ee137f417c5712be9d2d16f295ba7e30fc207e878214103e387346dfed3a9815" data-rendition-name="original" width="577" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal train project struggles to stay on track NT"> </figure>  Ultimately, the Kerung-Kathmandu trans-Himalayan railway will connect with the Birganj-Kathmandu line and in future be a future non-maritime corridor for India-China trade. Nepal has been trying to get the East-West railway project funded through foreign investment, but so far there has not been much interest. There also needs to be a better viability study for future railway links, otherwise Nepal may be straddled with loans it cannot repay. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-china-to-study-trans-himalayan-railway">Nepal and China to study trans-Himalayan railway</a>, Ramesh Bhushal “The border region along the Tarai remains behind in terms of education, health, and the economy,” says economist Bishwo Poudel. “A railway line alone will not do much to improve their quality of life, there have to be other interventions.” Poudel adds that a north-south railway through Kathmandu to connect India and China through Nepal makes much more economic sense. China has been studying the Kerung-Kathmandu track with tunnels under <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cleaning-up-high-places">Langtang National Park</a>, which would have technological and financial challenges. India is also working on a railway alignment to connect Kathmandu to its border town of Raxaul. At present the only operational passenger railway in Nepal is the 35km cross-border Jaynagar–Janakpur–Bardibas line. The former Department of Railways Director General Rohit Kumar Bisural is a road engineer, and says: “Very few people in Nepal have experience in railways.”

Nepal train project struggles to stay on track

Between the 1980s and 2000s, over 5,000 <a href="https://download.ssrn.com/11/01/06/ssrn_id1736064_code1383023.pdf?response-content-disposition=inline&amp;X-Amz-Security-Token=IQoJb3JpZ2luX2VjEBkaCXVzLWVhc3QtMSJIMEYCIQCiYUc7BuJ7zaDn%2BOTCFOWBgNKqYarnapqY%2FWZbamFVsgIhAOC%2FPFXHR9Dx6xTicWMj5%2BJXdIEGZ7LxKRyjrCe61Ng9KsYFCPL%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2F%2FwEQBBoMMzA4NDc1MzAxMjU3IgzWD1Y1XNz2kaOS3jEqmgX0TbxyBTTrZrpd%2B5N72pFzJAwc%2BxTF8Dc0GnVG2tUGUYyxBt1YmfEqAw5cdOuRCZV23SSKkJwndg9IwI3yrjZGBp9XKxg4lK4Vq0Qy9RMmma5hNCVnA2T0MwGghlnmkgWPZA5ouZPiKFAecf4PE5qml2fu1wj72LEAig5R77cN6nC6%2BxTcygMiuiHrR9yZB4RyvTD9s58avGqUcn9hcIUdku3ydvAGVEgczzgEMCesRMtSgqzHz3E9bju9QLR5RpcDRp0wptfQ89uGXgyBGLCX%2BAl6uareSxQCSaDOthP4PmswWI7y7kBJbQp1pZq8r56Yoa3Qf5WVtmxbsWmDtbOsaSBa0yB6EIS8RKFGeQ%2Bcz%2BnEsOoPHIS%2BqO1k1%2BQuihjN0T66SnWFo8rl8Cv2g4GghY9p9DR3wopBJ6cE%2FtDJMY%2BZ03LkUwS%2Fc7ckyaRpfPX5g6Bb9J56a%2BNA5lnIV5o%2Fpjp%2BZJaVIvEzciyzzTwP58wznmcy3xppvK%2BwXBzBR96cPMXKTdNv9%2FqJ5jlnsgSRJpHWE3UyHbFucwQYXi19i7mCglFSuSkkL5Tg9nQWvXpuP9Z9VmMlQfQ%2F%2FpsfA6KlL81K3UK%2Bp%2FJB2mxQD9SYexZvAf1g21NUSF%2F8I19orsNrT6LutAnoJU%2FOTgO3qMbdgnR%2FuBytI3POnQAEIfbG0Za%2FrEDJ9j8CEbasNXsBMqkx8JKGRG2PUHMRC2xl5Z%2BNIbpsqGB8t%2BvAt40osDpgZStiyeiGdC1nMakUzZtBjWlttzoirCdemwPKJ8M%2BEohj2%2BLEN92yaOKdFewns0gjh%2BUxcotGvBo%2F7QZFappBNjLlR0PyanjcuB4MndEQjeIrd67ntscTKiLDI%2FfzwCHulsl6nbMpewpWFAYwg67guwY6sAGb3VJ2q%2F36hWhrVa8igP2hswnnLlcIU2uhOZa5ge2hCXkUYhL1BcSJfoWy2LwrWCXtdFo%2BT7KMU3p6O3jySdxSop8F4iO%2BJBiXVjSiXm%2FqZo3ri8sVwUgo4ksJI%2BT4AbfK3D3VGYapBgU5LdX%2FjkNwSVoR1vz4vMIyF56i7MKeYG1nFLgc0l9cIjrQI6eY869uIbgZ1XKqqBsuavCbYjSbSy7dMP0QSym%2FgmoWILGE0Q%3D%3D&amp;X-Amz-Algorithm=AWS4-HMAC-SHA256&amp;X-Amz-Date=20250103T172339Z&amp;X-Amz-SignedHeaders=host&amp;X-Amz-Expires=300&amp;X-Amz-Credential=ASIAUPUUPRWE65YAH56X%2F20250103%2Fus-east-1%2Fs3%2Faws4_request&amp;X-Amz-Signature=9b654b526e0779da4fa9f54e2fcde04ac9f7e91fb50d4f8094b1039ebb19e21b&amp;abstractId=1736064">Nepali children were adopted abroad</a>, primarily to the United States, France, and Spain. While international adoption was intended to provide vulnerable children with better opportunities, child trafficking and irregular practices prompted Nepal to suspend adoptions in 2007, and overhaul its policies. By 2010, stricter regulations aligned with the <a href="https://www.hcch.net/en/instruments/conventions/specialised-sections/intercountry-adoption">Hague Adoption Convention</a> drastically reduced adoption numbers. Today, many of these children, now adults, are returning to Nepal in search of their roots, only to encounter a society that no longer recognises them, legally or socially. Behind the statistics lie the <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01GRNPPXAC1Z3AETV9HARNCG5Q">deeply personal and emotional journey</a> of adoptees returning to reconnect with their past, seek family, and rediscover a sense of belonging. These stories reflect a broader struggle for identity and the complexities of bridging two worlds. Maya Adopted at 9 by a family in Barcelona, Maya carried fragmented memories of her early life in Nepal including the painful recollection of the day her mother and sister vanished, leaving her and her younger siblings behind. She had faint images of her mother, elder sister, and the village where she once lived. In June 2017, Maya came to Nepal accompanied by Chandra Kala and two friends, Jay and Vikram. With only a few photographs of her mother Tulsi, her elder sister Pargati, and her brother-in-law Kamal, along with a street name, Maya arrived in Birendranagar after a 20-hour bus ride from Kathmandu. “Now that we’re close, I feel like I can’t face them,” she confessed to Chandra Kala, wrestling with anxiety about what she might uncover. “I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’ll recognise them or if they’ll recognise me. I don’t know how they’ll react or what they’ll say. And then there’s him [Kamal]. I have such bad memories of him. I don’t know if I can handle this.” Chandra Kala reassured her, reminding her of her courage and the importance of this moment. Maya and her companions asked around the town with little success until a shopkeeper recognised Kamal and directed them to a nearby village. Jay went to confirm and returned excitedly, shouting, “It’s her! It’s your sister!” Maya froze, paralysed by fear and anticipation but she pushed ahead. At the village, Maya’s sister Pargati initially struggled to recognise her. Jay introduced Maya: “Do you recognise her? This is your younger sister. She’s come all the way from Spain to find you.” Slowly, realisation dawned, and the two women embraced, bridging the decades of separation with tears and disbelief. The next day, Maya met her mother Tulsi in an emotionally overwhelming reunion. Tulsi rushed into the room and embraced Maya tightly, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mero chhora-chhori, gaye, gaye… my children they went, they went …” Once the tears subsided, Tulsi and Pargati began recounting the heartbreaking circumstances of their separation. After the death of her husband, Tulsi faced relentless judgment in their village when Kamal stayed with the family before his marriage to Pargati. The villagers accused Tulsi of impropriety, calling her पापी (sinful) and demanded that the family leave. “We didn’t want to leave, but the village didn’t want us here,” explained Pargati. “We left intending to bring you and your siblings later. But when we returned, you were gone.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250103120140_da7482d222e0a03b783c5e1df25536ed416d7b7475442e7fd40e54451572142e" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>An adoptee and companion return to Bal Mandir in Kathmandu after 19 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  Tulsi recalled how she had entrusted Maya and her siblings to relatives, hoping they would be cared for temporarily. However, when she returned, the children had been sent away without her knowledge. “I only trusted them because I had no other choice,” Tulsi said through tears. “I didn’t know they would send my children away. What kind of mother does that make me? They called me a bad mother, but what else could I have done?” The reunion brought healing and answers but it also exposed the societal pressures that had fractured Maya’s family. Despite the challenges, Maya spent the rest of her visit bonding with her sister, nieces, and younger half-sister, Sunita, slowly bridging the gaps created by time and distance. Maya’s journey was a testament to the courage required to confront the past, the pain of uncovering difficult truths, and the hope of rebuilding connections once lost. Her story highlights the enduring emotional complexity faced by adoptees navigating their history and identity. Ashmita Unlike some adoptees whose main focus is reuniting with their biological family, 26-year-old Ashmita’s priority has been to uncover the institutional details surrounding her adoption. She wanted to understand what the orphanage and the government knew about her background and why so much information seemed concealed. “I just want to know where I come from,” she said. “Even if I never find my biological family, having a better sense of the places and people connected to my story would mean so much.” For many adoptees, returning to Nepal is not just about reconnecting emotionally, it is about seeking formal recognition as members of the Nepali community. However, the legal framework in Nepal often fails to acknowledge their unique status.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250103120144_bf0158b7829cf5db44382d7386d3b123032adad3f9e10e28096b80cd09170ba6" data-rendition-name="original" width="384" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>A mother reunites with her don after 18 years. Photo: CHANDRA KALA CLEMENTE-MARTINEZ</figcaption> </figure>  In Nepali law, adoptees are left in limbo: their birth parents are not considered legal parents, and their ties to the country are effectively erased upon adoption. This lack of recognition creates significant hurdles, particularly in two key areas: accessing pre-adoption records and obtaining Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) status. Despite international norms like the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which guarantees the right to know one’s origins, institutions often refuse to cooperate. Orphanages and non-profits in Nepal, which hold critical pre-adoption records such as birth certificates and citizenship documents, frequently withhold this information, reflecting the systemic reluctance to provide transparency. In numerous cases, records that should include family names, addresses, or relinquishment agreements were either incomplete or falsified. These practices not only prevent adoptees from reclaiming their histories but also perpetuate their disconnection from their heritage. Ashmita’s initial requests for information from her adoption agency were met with delays and incomplete responses. When she turned to the orphanage where she spent her early years, she encountered even greater resistance. At one point, the director of the orphanage issued veiled threats. Nevertheless, Ashmita persisted and managed to find the name of the individual who had brought her to the orphanage. However, the person had disappeared, leaving yet another gap in her story. A breakthrough came when Ashmita accessed a police report that suggested she might have been born in a different municipality than the one in her adoption records, prompting her to seek help from local authorities. The police took an interest in her case and began investigating possible connections to her birth family. While progress was slow, they meticulously followed leads to help her trace her origins. “It’s not easy,” Ashmita said of the process. “But every small step feels like I’m piecing something back together.” She also noted that societal perceptions could add to the difficulty. At times, she felt questioned about her identity and her right to seek answers. “People have asked me why I care so much or even suggested that I’m not Nepali anymore because I was adopted abroad,” she reflected. Ashmita’s story is a complex account of persistence in the face of institutional and personal challenges. While her search has not yet provided all the answers she seeks, it continues to offer her insights into her early life and the systems that shaped her adoption journey. &nbsp;“These records are sealed for a reason. They are not meant to be reopened,” said a government official. Even an NGO representative said: “It’s better for everyone if the past remains in the past.” An orphanage director asked: “Why are you asking these questions? This is not your place anymore.” Hari Prasad Sacré The Non-Resident Nepali (NRN) card is a lifeline for Nepali diaspora members, granting them residency and property rights in Nepal. Yet, adoptees are notably excluded from this framework. While the law stipulates eligibility for individuals whose parents or grandparents were Nepali citizens, it makes no provision for adoptees whose legal ties to their Nepali parents were severed by adoption. When Hari Prasad Sacré, a Nepali adoptee, sought to obtain an NRN card at the Nepal Embassy in Belgium, he encountered officials unfamiliar with processing an NRN request from an adoptee. His case was the first of its kind, setting a precedent but also highlighting the systemic barriers adoptees face. "You are not eligible; your surname is Sacré, it is not a Nepali name," an embassy staff said.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250103120140_9bdc24b7e34930059f895048ab7dc0ad3ca23b16907c572f01a8d5404a5feac5" data-rendition-name="original" width="446" height="512" loading="lazy" alt="Searching for a homeland away from home NT"> <figcaption>Hari Prasad Sacré receives tika from his father Khul Prasad Adhikari during Dasain, a few weeks after receiving his NRN card. Photo: HARI PRASAD SACRÉ</figcaption> </figure>  Sacré’s situation was legally ambiguous. Although his biological parents, including his father, Khul Prasad Adhikari, are alive and he maintains contact with them, he no longer had “legal” ties to Nepal due to the adoption process. Carrying a Belgian surname the embassy staff was initially convinced the adoptee couldn’t claim Nepali origin. Nepali law, which does not recognise biological parents as legal guardians once a child is adopted, created complications for the NRN application. To navigate this complexity, Sacré relied on a testimony from his father. Issued by a local government body in Kaski, the testimony affirmed that Hari had been put up for adoption and was of Nepali origin. While this enabled the embassy to approve his NRN card, the process was unnecessarily protracted and emotionally charged, highlighting the inadequacy of current policies to accommodate the unique situations of adoptees. Sacré’s case represents a rare instance where biological parents were alive and willing to provide testimony, but many adoptees are not as fortunate. A large number of adoptees were declared “orphans” during the adoption process, even when their parents were alive. This severed their legal ties to Nepal, stripping them of documentation that could later prove their origin. For others, the absence of living biological relatives or access to their original adoption records creates insurmountable barriers. Without clear documentation or a family member to vouch for their Nepali heritage, adoptees are excluded from the NRN framework. This denies them the rights and privileges afforded by the card, including property rights, legal recognition, and a formal connection to their homeland. Current laws fail to account for the complexities of adoptees’ legal status, leaving them disconnected from their cultural and legal heritage. Adoption papers, as evidence of Nepali descent, should be accepted as proof, granting adoptees rightful access to the NRN card and ensuring their inclusion in Nepal’s diaspora. Such reforms are crucial to ensure that all adoptees, regardless of their circumstances, can reclaim their heritage and establish a sense of belonging in Nepali society. Without these changes, the systemic exclusion of adoptees will persist, perpetuating inequities and denying them the opportunity to step up as active members of the Nepali diaspora. Sacré’s case serves as both a precedent and a call to action. It exemplifies the challenges and triumphs of adoptees navigating complex bureaucracies and advocates for a more inclusive and equitable approach to reconnecting adoptees with their homeland. Nepal can draw inspiration from South Korea, where the government has actively supported the reintegration of adoptees into their society. The F4 visa, established through efforts by organisations like the Global Overseas Adoptees’ Link (GOA'L), grants adoptees the right to live and work in Korea, while dual citizenship acknowledges their dual identity as members of the diaspora and their country of origin. GOA’L further fosters reconnection by offering language classes and cultural exchange programs, creating opportunities for meaningful reintegration and belonging. As Nepal refines its NRN citizenship framework, explicitly including adoptees could address the severance of legal and cultural ties caused by international adoption. Such inclusion would provide adoptees a pathway to residency, citizenship, and rights, enabling them to reconnect with their heritage. Complementing this with programs for language acquisition, cultural immersion, and historical education would honour Nepal’s responsibility to the approximately 5,000 children sent abroad. Nepal could establish a dedicated organisation similar to South Korea’s GOA’L and help adoptees access pre-adoption records, navigate legal processes, and engage in cultural exchange initiatives. It would also serve as a bridge between adoptees and Nepali society, fostering mutual understanding and collaboration. This article is based on doctoral studies by <a href="http://hdl.handle.net/1854/LU-01H4Z85GPS63ZWDJ3WB2E6KS70">Hari Prasad Sacré</a> and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/10357823.2022.2142932">Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez</a>. Hari Prasad Sacré, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at Ghent University in Belgium, specialising in cultural translation, multilingualism, and identity in education. His PhD, Reading Illiteracy, explored fractured multilingualism and illiteracy in displaced identities such as adoptees, with work published in leading journals like Critical Arts and the European Journal for Cultural Studies. Chandra Kala Clemente-Martínez, PhD, is a postdoctoral researcher at the AFIN Research Group, Autonomous University of Barcelona, with a PhD in Social Anthropology. Her research focuses on family strategies, reproductive decisions, and adoption, with extensive fieldwork in Spain and Nepal examining adoptee reunions and related governance and rights.

Searching for a homeland away from home

Prime Minister K P Oli returned from his China visit in December with the freshly re-inked<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/china-syndrome"> Belt and Road Initiative Framework Cooperation Agreement</a>.&nbsp;
Ten infrastructure projects proposed by Nepal were approved by China as part of the BRI deal which will fund projects through ‘aid-assistance’, a wordage used to get around political sensitivity about more loans from China.
One of them is the ambititious <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/which-way-will-the-tibet-nepal-railway-go">Kerung-Kathmandu Railway</a>, with financing, geotechnical and geopolitical challenges. Nepal sought better connectivity with China after the 2015 earthquake-blockade crisis as a way to counterbalance India’s dominance.
China was looking to expand its sphere of influence in South Asia, and got Nepal to already sign the BRI framework in 2017 which included extending its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bri-and-trans-himalayan-connectivity">Trans-Himalayan Multi-Dimensional Connectivity Network </a>to Kathmandu.&nbsp;
Not to be outdone, India signed a MoU in 2018 with Nepal to survey the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/birganj-waits-for-the-boom">proposed Raxaul-Kathmandu railway</a>, followed by another agreement in 2021 to prepare a Detailed Project Report. Konkan Railway Corporation handed over its Final Location Survey (FLS) to the Nepal government in 2023.
“We have added our comments and feedback to the draft after review and sent it to India, but haven’t got back the final report,” says Kamal Kumar Shah of Nepal’s Department of Railways. The 141km long broad gauge railway will reportedly include 42km of tunnels, 124 bridges, and 13 stations, and will cost more than $3 billion.&nbsp;
More expensive and difficult will be the trans-Himalayan railway that is an extension of China’s Lhasa-Xigatse line. A Chinese pre-feasibility proposed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-light-at-end-of-trans-himalayan-train-tunnel">tunnels between Kerung to Kathmandu below Langtang National Park</a>. The tunnel will have to spiral to offset the gradient drop from 4,000m on the Tibetan Plateau to 1,400m in Kathmandu. More than 98% of the 73km standard gauge railway will burrow under the Himalaya, costing $5.5 billion.
A feasibility study of the Kerung-Kathmandu railway by Chinese consultants is underway, and is expected to be completed by June 2026. The team is drilling into the mountains for the geotechnical investigation.&nbsp;
The northern rail alignment is expected to face delays because of land compensation and environmental concerns.
For China, the trans-Himalayan railway has strategic connectivity value that goes beyond Nepal to facilitate a future non-maritime trade route with India. China is India’s biggest trade partner and its ocean route could be affected by tension in South China Sea.&nbsp;
Ultimately, the Kerung-Kathmandu railway will have a terminal at Tokha, while the Raxaul-Kathmandu line will approach from the south at Chobhar.&nbsp;
“As far as technical challenges are concerned, there are no limitations as such to connect China and India via railway, should both countries be open to it,” says infrastructure expert Surya Raj Acharya. "But there have been strong reservations from India, apparently due to geopolitical concerns, as already manifested in its opposition to the BRI.”
Despite a trans-Himalayan rail line also being in India’s interest, the present geopolitical climate is not conducive to cooperation to improve connectivity. &nbsp;New Delhi refuses to buy electricity from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/missing-pieces-of-the-hydropower-jigsaw">hydropower</a> project in Nepal with Chinese involvement, and also embargos imports of Nepali goods with Chinese components. New Delhi is also not too happy with Prime Minister Oli after he signed the BRI deal in Beijing last month. &nbsp;
Some analysts say Nepal should stick to building better highway connectivity rather than invest in expensive railway lines, especially with its two neighbours. &nbsp;
“The biggest concern with both projects is that there is zero technical input from our side, which means they have been designed according to Indian and Chinese parameters,” says Paribesh Parajuly, one of Nepal’s few railway engineers who was a consultant at the Department of Railways for the Kerung-Kathmandu project.&nbsp;
He says China and India have their own <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">geopolitical interests</a>, but Nepal should be more assertive in what it wants and needs, and stipulate the technical standards it wants followed. One of the hurdles for a China-India train connection through Nepal will be that the northern line is standard gauge, while the southern one is broad gauge. &nbsp;
“It seems that India's proposal for the Raxaul-Kathmandu railway as a broad gauge line is a risk-mitigation exercise to prevent China from getting directly to the Indian border from Kerung through a standard gauge railway,” says Acharya.
Nepal will now have to play the waiting game until India decides on the next step of the project and whether China deems the mega trans-Himalayan project worth undertaking. &nbsp;
But waiting should not mean that Nepal sits on its hands, there is much strategic planning to be done both for the trans-national railways as well as a future domestic network running on Nepal’s surplus electricity, and training railway technicians.&nbsp;

India-China rail race

The new year 2025 started literally with a bang. The 7.1M jolt in Xigatse on Tuesday swayed buildings in Kathmandu 400km away, and coincided with the approaching 91st anniversary of the 1934 Great Earthquake. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared">National Earthquake Safety Day </a>on 15 January commemorates the 1934 8.3M disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu, leaving many collapsed buildings. Thousands of people of Kathmandu took shelter in tents in Tundikhel as aftershocks rattled the country (pictured).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Tents"> <figcaption>Tents at Tundikhel housed survivors as aftershocks following the 1934 earthquake rocked the country for days.</figcaption> </figure>  This year is also the tenth anniversary of the 2015 7.8M Gorkha Earthquake that killed 9,000 people in central Nepal. These are all warnings about the ‘seismic gap’ in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/past-disasters-foretold" target="_blank">western Nepal</a> where there has not been a major quake for more than 500 years.&nbsp; That one that is overdue, and for which the country is woefully unprepared. Despite the distance, an 8M earthquake will not spare Kathmandu and other urban centres. “It will be catastrophic, and yet, there is no preparedness among the public or policymakers despite increased awareness,” warns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/turkey-and-nepal-face-similar-seismic-risks" target="_blank">Surya Narayan Shrestha</a> of the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET Nepal) which has been involved in retrofitting public buildings.&nbsp; “The warning of the 2015 earthquake was not heeded, it has not translated into building safer or enforcing building codes,” Shrestha adds.&nbsp; There have been a series of smaller earthquakes in Jajarkot and Bajura in the past year, and it is an indication of the lack of preparedness that even <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal" target="_blank">moderate quakes like Jajarkot</a> killed so many and caused so much damage. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) in its <a href="https://bipad.gov.np/uploads/publication_pdf/EPR_report_July_2022_Final_V4_(1)138720.pdf" target="_blank">Emergency Preparedness and Response Assessment</a> quantified earthquake preparedness levels in 23 municipalities. Kathmandu nearly failed with just 39.8%, while Doti in western Nepal scored the lowest at 11%. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">Disastrous preparedness</a> ‘This means that most criteria for emergency preparedness and response systems in Nepal are weak,’ stated the 2022 assessment. It underlined severe lack of search and rescue equipment for different hazards, dysfunctional emergency operations center network, and poorly constructed houses and public buildings.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1140" loading="lazy" alt="Dharara "> <figcaption>Ruins of Dharara tower after the 1934 earthquake. It was later reconstructed which again collapsed in 2015 earthquake killing many.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af" data-rendition-name="original" width="1380" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="Singha Durbar"> <figcaption>The gate of Singha Darbar after the 8.3M earthquake in 1934.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1993" loading="lazy" alt="Earthquake"> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state" target="_blank">Western Nepal</a> has seen a swarm of smaller quakes in the past year, and this could either be releasing some of the tectonic tension, or a warning of a big one to come. The National Earthquake Monitoring and Research Center recorded 10 earthquakes between 4.1-5.2M from 17 December to 3 January, most of them in western Nepal. “We need thousands of these minor tremors or hundreds of moderate 6M earthquakes a year to be able to release the stress that has accumulated beneath western Nepal,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-disaster-resilient-nepal-is-possible" target="_blank">Anil Pokhrel</a>, who heads the NDRRMA.&nbsp; Today, Nepal’s seismic risk is magnified by climate breakdown. Rising temperature is melting glaciers, and turning them into lakes dammed by fragile moraines. A megaquake in the Himalaya increases the risk of multiple Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) downstream. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Nepal’s mountains are melting</a>, Alton C Byers A few hours before two small glacial lakes burst destroying the village of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">Thame in August</a> last year, a 4.5M earthquake had struck nearby on the Tibetan Plateau. The Journal of Basic and Applied Geomorphology in February 2023 <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0169555X22004329" target="_blank">published a study</a> highlighting how earthquakes exacerbate climate-driven cascade processes of the glacial lakes failure in the Himalaya. ‘Global warming drives glacial retreat, and uncover loose sediment that can be mobilized as debris flows, triggering small glacial lake outbursts in high mountain regions. Sediment generated from earthquake-induced landslides exacerbates the flow magnitude in a valley to increase the disaster risk,’ the paper warns. Of the 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up" target="_blank">high-risk lakes</a> on glaciers that threaten Nepal, 25 are in China and feed tributaries of the Arun and Bhote Kosi that flow into Nepal. Pokhrel says he initially feared that the Xigatse earthquake on Tuesday would cause glacial lakes in Tibet to burst. He adds, “It is important to be prepared for cascading, complex disasters that combine the climate crisis with earthquakes, permafrost melting, GLOFs, landslides.” Pokhrel was in Thame in August, and says, “The two lakes that burst were the size of Olympic swimming pools and yet managed to wipe out half the village. We have lakes 600 times bigger which are now at a higher risk of bursting in an earthquake due to climate breakdown.”