For someone who is considered a pioneer of abstract expressionism in Nepal, Kiran Manandhar is abstract about his craft. At age 68, Manandhar does not see the need to explain himself, or his art. His bold and vibrant brush strokes on canvas capture movement in the temporal and spatial planes. “I still do not understand what is abstract, there is no way to define it,” Manandhar told us while showing us around his exhibition. “Sometimes, even before I decide what I am about to create, a drop of colour hits the canvas. That’s the beginning of a dialogue.”&nbsp; The ongoing exhibitions are bursting with the products of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/art-for-arts-sake">Manandhar’s lively palette and wide imaginings</a>. The visuals are quick to grab the visitor’s attention, but the emotional depth lingers longer.&nbsp; In his series, Women, what initially look like distorted, animalesque forms reveal themselves to be powerful abstractions of the essence of womanhood. It is all there: strength and vulnerability, nurturing and rebellion, solidarity and sorrow, compassion and love.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090820_0152fa0ff18278c9bdec0710052244332deb3b4eaf030071df4eeab890610776.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250807090820_0152fa0ff18278c9bdec0710052244332deb3b4eaf030071df4eeab890610776" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Kiran Manandhar"> </figure>  The works portray the patriarchy, and how Nepali women have become each other’s pillars. The <a href="about:blank">complexities of womanhood </a>are often best understood only by women themselves, but Manandhar seems to have the heart, mind and eyes to explore them artistically. Several pieces from the Women series and Manandhar’s other artworks, are currently on display across Kathmandu Valley in the <a href="https://mona.com.np/">Museum of Nepali Art</a>, <a href="https://kathmanduarthouse.com/">Kathmandu Art House</a>, Kathmandu Guest House and Patan Museum. The exhibitions honour the maestro’s five decades of artistic exploration and features not just his iconic works, but also represent a timeline of his life journey. As a child, Manandhar used to accompany his mother to the Bishnumati River, which at the time was clean and wide. During her evening puja, he would watch the flicker of votive lamps as they floated down the dark waters. &nbsp; Later, he sculpted sand figurines on the banks or rendered flowers in watercolour. Painting soon became a passion, but the young Manandhar was a rebel: rigid schools never held his interest and he preferred to roam by the river. Growing up without a job, he survived on little, searching for free meals outside mosques, and spent hours fishing and observing life unfold around him.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090816_774263f821feba7a3353ac2959d24d7e2e306a00f91ccf3a9f34cfedb33cac51.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250807090816_774263f821feba7a3353ac2959d24d7e2e306a00f91ccf3a9f34cfedb33cac51" data-rendition-name="original" width="1499" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Kiran Manandhar"> </figure>  He ended up in Varanasi. He remembers sleeping on railway platforms, eating leftovers from garbage piles and being beaten and chased away by the police. Yet, in letters home, he wrote that he was staying in hotels and dining lavishly.&nbsp; “No one rises easily in art. There’s always struggle, pain, and relentless effort,” he reflects. “Almost every artist has had to fight their way up.” Eventually, he enrolled in Banaras Hindu University and &nbsp;earned both a BFA and an MFA in painting. As he came to his own, Manandhar began exploring the broader Nepali art scene and travelled to France, Germany, and Japan for art programs and residencies.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090820_c19ed015bc1ba7f1fb90c329c7fb45d60066288631631f9ed472c14a0d5ebd2a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250807090820_c19ed015bc1ba7f1fb90c329c7fb45d60066288631631f9ed472c14a0d5ebd2a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Kiran Manandhar"> </figure>  Along the way, he imbibed influences of contemporary movements in art but was mostly drawn by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Manandhar-fourth-exhibit-Nepal,2641">expressionism</a> in a cubist style — but infusing it with influences of his Nepali roots. Manandhar has plenty of heartfelt advice for younger artists: “One reason art hasn’t progressed as much as it could is that we often dismiss young people and their potential. Wisdom is hoarded instead of shared. But these learnings must be passed down.” Which is exactly what he seems to be doing with his multiple exhibitions around the Valley. TUG-O-WAR Manandhar describes his creative process as a playground with three players: colours, canvas, and himself. From that moment, the painting unfolds on its own terms. He begins to see possibilities and builds upon them, even as he is caught in a constant, dynamic tug-of-war. What emerges from this push and pull are masterpieces. “As soon as I see colours or even think of painting, I’m completely consumed by it. My only fear is: what if one day there are no more colours? What if one day I cannot paint anymore?” His Aatma Series takes us on a spiritual journey. The aatma (soul) transports visitors somewhere beyond the visible to unknown terrain. In Aatma IV, we are pulled into a hypnotic spiral, falling into Manandhar’s own Bermuda triangle of emotions and abstraction.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250809060824_1bfea0c248ecca3d8543f7e9e77b71eb756be4b9aab65f46ed197561ea3edc50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250809060824_1bfea0c248ecca3d8543f7e9e77b71eb756be4b9aab65f46ed197561ea3edc50" data-rendition-name="original" width="4000" height="6000" loading="lazy" alt="KIRAN MANANDHAR"> <figcaption>Aatma IV</figcaption> </figure>  His Ganesha paintings take a more serene approach with soft curves and muted tones that emanate wisdom. In contrast, the Bhairava radiates the raw ritualistic energy of a mask dance. Both are deeply rooted in Nepali tradition, yet boldly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/painting-a-painter">contemporary in expression</a>. Then there are the Self-Reflection and Untitled works perhaps intentionally open-ended. Viewers will find human forms, birds, fleeting figures, and swirling emotions scattered across canvases and lokta paper with acrylic, oil pastels, charcoal, and mixed media.&nbsp; Even by Kiran Manandhar’s standards this is as abstract as art can get. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; KIRAN Till 18 September&nbsp; 10am-6pm Museum of Nepali Art Kathmandu Art House&nbsp; Kathmandu Guest House&nbsp; Patan Museum

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Kiran Manandhar in the abstract

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

Visible to the naked eye

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d013e9c7e80680e0a361ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1487"/>The genre of ‘abstract expressionism’ may be best described as artwork resulting from ‘controlled accidents’, where artists periodically and purposefully collide their conscious mind with the subconscious to create a work of art.Such art becomes surreal, but with insinuations of sublime realism. They do not seem to belong in this worldly realm, and yet evoke poignant emotions.How do we even begin to understand such art? It may feel like one has to take a few courses on art and art history just to scratch its surface. Curators and art connoisseurs go on and on about strokes, colours, palettes, and influences of the period. But how much of even that is really understood?Art is not like having a glimpse at a picture, but rather watching events unfold in a movie that is continually being directed by the moviegoers themselves.Jeevan Rajopadhyay’s ‘Untitled’ sounds abstract in the title itself. At first glance, it stirs a disparate range of emotions. While viewing this piece with a small group of art enthusiasts, one will likely focus only on a few prominent aspects, and let the imagination and thoughts run wild.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwXqkV-twR4&amp;t=214sAs we seep into the bleed of colours, we come across two distinct squares of white and grey which can be appreciated aesthetically and philosophically. Aesthetically, they give certain visual breaks within the blurriness of the colour mix. We stop and look at it again, this time a new set of colours unveils itself. Distinct figures shaped like rocks in the river serve as eddies of emotions.Philosophically, the work exudes uncertainty and impermanence, which after all is what life is in a nutshell. But there are also certain aspects to life we can count on. This perspective radiates hope, no matter how bleak the future may seem.As we shift our focus to the centre, we see busy palettes with multiple strokes and dabbing of the brush. This brings the artist to our attention and his state of mind. What is he trying to express? Is he confused, or in emotional flux? Is he trying to impart lived experiences, the impermanence of the present, or the lack of surety about tomorrow? Is he trying to hold on to something so tightly that he loses everything in the process?Art, if understood, lets you into the heart and the soul of its maker. Jeevan recently lost his loving wife and now lives with his ageing mother who has Alzheimer’s.Art is his only outlet, a realm where he can express himself and find some peace. Here the conspicuous bull signifies movement to a hopeful future, but the past still haunts him in the form of a frowning girl seated backward on the bull.Trained under Lain Singh Bangdel for over 12 years, Jeevan holds the highest regard for the late artist. “Bangdel Sir never took a single rupee from us. Instead, he would buy paint, brushes, canvases for us,” Jeevan recalls. “Teaching was his passion and he used to say — all I have learned I want to pass onto the future generation.”We do see certain influences of his mentor in Jeevan’s work, but he believes that his art should be sufficiently different and have its own elements. He is humble nonetheless. “These are my works, my experiences. With the great teachings of Bangdel Sir, I want to represent myself.”“Immature”, “reckless”, “childlike”, “wacky”, “illogical”, are some of the words whispered in museums exhibiting contemporary art. Art is not about logic or how easily it was created, it is not even about what you see in it — it is about how it moves you.In this particular work, we were fortunate to have an intense in-depth conversation with Jeevan for hours. Without insights into his life and into the motivation and circumstances of this creation, we could not have been able to decipher the emotions behind his brushstrokes, drips of paint, and dabs of colours.“When I look at a blank canvas long enough, I see my art,” says Jeevan. And if you look at a work of art long enough, you can see yourself in the art.A free-flowing mind is a must to be able to create such a masterpiece. Abstract expressionism is the artistic equivalent of stream-of-consciousness narrative, and hence could be the purest and rawest creation of the human mind.For artists like Jeevan Rajopadhyay the paint paints itself, the creation creates itself, and the artist is just the medium holding the brush.Rajan Sakya is the founder of the Museum of Nepali Art at Kathmandu Guest House, Thamel and contributes this monthly column For Arts Sake in Nepali Times. Meet the Artist<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01429c7e80680e0a361fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="844">When Jeevan Rajopadhyay was studying fine arts at Lalit Kala Campus in Kathmandu, many of his contemporaries tried to discourage him. There is no future in this field, they told him.But the young man was not thinking of making a living, he was just pursuing what had always captivated him. Even as a schoolboy, he was more interested in drawing and sketches than getting good grades in the exams.“It is indeed difficult to make a living as an artist,” concedes now 61-years-old Rajopadhyay. “But there is also no greater peace than working as one.”For a long time, Rajopadhyay worked with landscapes, until one day he got tired of it with a realisation that the mountains and the trees in his paintings were limiting his creativity. He then started experimenting and returned to his roots of abstract art, the skill which he had honed training under the late Lain Singh Bandgel.“I found happiness in the fact that I could break free from the limitations of predetermined shapes and boundaries of landscape paintings,” says Rajopadhyay.But it was not easy, the artist had to transfer his style from one technique to another, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it right until he presented his new works at an exhibition. The public loved it.Says Rajopadhyay: “I felt like I was on the right track. My longing for something new led me to the path I am in now -- the correct path, as far as I am concerned.”Rajan Sakya is the founder of the Museum of Nepali Art at Kathmandu Guest House, Thamel and contributes this monthly column For Arts Sake in Nepali Times.

Rajan Sakya

Jeevan Rajopadhyay’s Untitled

Nepal has shut down dozens of social media platforms in a move that is widely seen as an effort to tax the revenue they generate in the country, and to control content critical of government. The sites were blocked as of midnight on Thursday, 4 September and affects all Meta products including WhatsApp and Messenger, Threads, and others. Although YouTube, Google and X are also on the government’s list, they were still working as of Friday midday.&nbsp; The government says it took the action after repeated warnings to the platforms to open offices in Nepal, a Cabinet decision last month setting a deadline, as well as a 17 August Supreme Court ruling also requiring them to register and pay requisite taxes. However, the Bill cited in the ban, ‘The Operation, Use, and Regulation of Social Media in Nepal’ has not yet been passed by Parliament. Some social media platforms which were already paying taxes in Nepal even though they are not officially registered, have also been blocked. The move is the latest in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/big-beautiful-bills" target="_blank">a slew of draft legislations</a> designed to undermine Nepal’s open society. A Bill amending the Print and Publications Act would allow district bureaucrats to shut down media. Another draft Bill would allow political appointees to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke the licenses of journalists.&nbsp; A counter-intelligence Bill would let just about anyone in government to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens. On Wednesday the government announced new immigration requirements that would allow it to track the movement of all foreigners in the country. Yet another draft Bill has been set to Parliament to dissolve the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675" target="_blank">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> and move registration and monitoring of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities to the Ministry of Social Welfare. Seen in this light, the blockage of social media platforms this week is seen as the latest government attempt to constrict freedom of press. Nepal is one of the few remaining open societies in Asia, and now appears to be drifting towards authoritarianism. The government’s sudden shutdown of social media has been greeted with howls of protest on platforms that still remain open, like Viber and TikTok, as well as in Nepal’s mainstream press. Even senior members of the ruling UML-NC coalition have sharply criticised the move, asking if the government is trying to “turn Nepal into North Korea”.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656" data-rendition-name="original" width="4280" height="5187" loading="lazy" alt="social media ban in Nepal"> </figure>  The Regional Director of the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) Beh Lih Yi said in a statement: ‘Nepal’s sweeping ban on social media sets a dangerous precedent for press freedom. Blocking online news platforms vital to journalists will undermine reporting and the public’s right to information. The government must immediately rescind this order and restore access to social media platforms, which are essential tools for exercising press freedom.’ Besides undermining press freedom, blocking social media platforms will also hurt commerce and the economy since so many small and medium business trade through Instagram, Facebook and other platforms. Nepal’s vibrant social media has also been a boost or citizens to assert identity, build solidarity against injustice and play an adversarial role when the mainstream media does not do it. Social media platforms have also become the tenuous link for Nepali families scattered across the world to keep in touch with each other — its importance growing with the increasing size of the diaspora. The government wants social media platforms to register, pay taxes and remove posts on their sites that ‘undermine the national interest and Nepal’s territorial integrity, disturb social and religious harmony’.&nbsp; In response, rights activists have said while there is need for the government to regulate extreme content and hate speech, officials appear to be more intent on clamping down on free speech and trying to force platforms to share the revenue. On Friday, the government had allowed WhatsApp back online, but there were reports that it had instructed the Nepal Telecommunication Authority (NTA) to instruct mobile and internet service providers to block by Friday night all platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, Messenger, WhatsApp, X (Twitter), YouTube, LinkedIn, Reddit, Threads, Snapchat, Pinterest, Signal, Clubhouse, Rumble.&nbsp; Platforms that have registered and are allowed include TikTok, Viber, Nimbuzz, Popo Live, WeTalk, Global Diary and the Nepali portal Hamro Patro. TikTok was banned last year for ‘disturbing social harmony’ and it was lifted after the platform registered its office in Nepal. But even while it was banned, many users simply switched to VPN. Telegram was also banned for ‘financial crimes’ and it has since also been allowed back. NTA officials confirmed that some Asia-Pacific regional offices of platforms, including Meta had been in touch overnight inquiring about the registration process.&nbsp; Nepal is not alone in regulating social media. China bans most Western platforms, Russia and Turkey regulate their and require platforms to locate their data servers in the country. Gulf countries allow social media but keep a tight control on dissent.&nbsp; Experts have said even the government will not dare close down YouTube since so many Nepali individuals and companies make money with posts on that platform, and closing it would also impact on Google and Gmail. Facebook had also just launched a monetisation scheme for videos and reels, and Nepalis uploading content would lose revenue.&nbsp; Blocking the platforms has already hit content creators, influencers and cut small businesses from reaching customers. A survey of social media use in Nepal by Sharecast Initiative showed that 94% of those with smart phones used YouTube, followed by Facebook (92%) while TikTok was in the 50-60% range. X and Instagram were in the single digits. A YouTube ban will also hurt the mainstream media since up to 20% of the revenue of Nepal’s main tv channels came through YouTube. Some 11.1 million Nepalis watch YouTube content every day, the survey showed. ‘For global giants like Meta or Google, Nepal is a small market, and they may not even flinch — but for millions of Nepalis, these platforms are central to daily life, livelihoods, and connections across the world,’ wrote AI consultant Naresh Newar in a LinkedIn post. Some experts said the government’s sweeping ban on social media networks was untenable and the government would be forced to rollback sooner or later. Said editor Shiva Gaunle: “The platforms had given citizens a voice and broken the monopoly of the government, legislators, the courts and journalists over public opinion. This is an effort to reassert that monopoly, but Nepal can never be turned into a North Korea.”

Protest grows against Nepal’s social media ban

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fZXyjsE28" target="_blank">Yog Narendra Malla</a> became king at age 18, and ruled Patan from 1684-1705 — his reign marked by a cultural and architectural renaissance of the city state. He put up a statue of himself in the palace square with a little bronze bird sitting on the guardian serpent above his head. It is said he told his subjects that he would look after their welfare till the day the bird flew off. During<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> the 2015 earthquake</a>, the pedestal collapsed and the statue was damaged. The bird was lost, only to be located in a pile of debris and reinstated when the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/piece-by-piece-patan-darbar-square-reconstruction,3782" target="_blank">statue was consecrated</a> two years later. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x2fZXyjsE28?si=jYfIb4p6zCLXYQ1T" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> History remembers Yog Narendra Malla as a wise king, but like most<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home"> royalty of the day</a>, he had a weakness for women. He is supposed to have consorted with 30 queens and numerous concubines. At least 33 of them self-immolated themselves on the king's funeral pyre when he died, adhering to the prevailing <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Jhola,947">practice of sati</a>. When Yog Narendra Malla’s favourite queen found out that he was carrying on with yet another woman, she got the local community of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood to stage a shadow sex play to quite literally expose his unfaithfulness. Actors enacted the explicit exploits of the king and his mistress, a bright butter lamp projecting the moving shadows of their lovemaking on a thin white drape to entertain those gathered in the square below. The queen made sure that the show was designed to face the home of the king’s paramour to shame them both. She also paid for a group to chant a bhajan with lyrics that ridiculed the king’s extramarital affair. The Jhyalcha Guthi community trust that the queen set up three-and-half century ago is still active to this day, and performs the annual shadow play in the same building in Kwelachhi the day before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Indra Jatra </a>every year. This year’s show is on Friday evening, 5 September. The opening lines of the chants that accompany the play are the same words approved by the queen all those years ago: “Raja Yog Narendra ya aparadh…” (King Yog Narendra’s crime…) The community leader of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood, 62-year-old Baburaja Awale, explains the importance of the event: “This Jhyalcha is our<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303"> intangible heritage</a> and oral history. We do not have a written format, it has been passed down from generation to generation. Every word of the bhajan is the story of King Yog Narendra Malla.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1167" loading="lazy" alt="Sex and the city of Patan"> <figcaption>The statue of Yog Narendra Malla being reinstated after it toppled in the 2015 earthquake. Photo: GOPEN RAI/ NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Jhyalcha Pyankha, as the ceremony is called, starts with a puja for the Bhimsen — the god of wealth and prosperity, a popular <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-homecoming-of-nepal-s-gods">deity in Patan</a> who has a temple dedicated just to him in the palace square. This is immediately followed by a bhajan of Bhairab performed with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-house,670">traditional Newa musical instruments</a>. Community members serve snacks consisting of samay baji beaten rice, water buffalo chunks, soybean, green veggies, lentils, ginger, garlic and aila liquor. “In the first act of the shadow play, the man initiates the lovemaking, and in the third it is the woman,” says Laxmi Lal Awale, also a member of the trust that organises the show. The shadow action is all uncensored, but interspersed with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">scenes of everyday life</a>: the woman is spinning a thread, the king is going about his royal chores, and the two sit down to share sanacha fermented pickle that is popular this time of year. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3twuG1wNQ?si=yRfkoC3A-X9cIl8r" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> “Back then, there was no tv, films or YouTube, and yet we managed to stage the shadow play using our own resourcefulness,” says Baburaja Awale. “It is important to continue the tradition.” The challenge now is to ensure that the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain"> younger generation takes over</a>, learning the lyrics of the ancient bhajan. The dafa khala group that performs all over Patan during festivals and religious events is now training teenagers to play the musical instruments and act in the shadow play. The Jhyalcha was staged even after the 2015 earthquake when the falcha where the bhajan is performed collapsed and they made-do in a tin shed. The structure was later rebuilt with a grant from the group, Photo Circle. Lalitpur Metropolitan City sets aside a budget of Rs50,000 to organise the Jhyalcha Pyankha every year, but this is not enough and is supplemented by individual donations. The performers including musicians and actors are all volunteers, and take part in it because it is their community duty. The erotic shadow play was way ahead of its time, not just in its graphic content but the use of contemporary local technology as well as improvisation and pure imagination. Says Laxmi Lal: “Whatever its origin in the legend of King Yog Narendra Malla and his queen, Jhyalcha also served as a medium of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lets-talk-about-it">sex education</a>. In the past, women were discouraged from watching the shadow play, but today everyone is welcome, we all watch it together.” Jhyalcha Pyankha Kwelachhi, Chyasal, Patan 7PM onwards Friday, 5 September

Sex and the city of Patan

Unlike many countries, there is not much incentive in Nepal for the private sector to fund charities and non-profits. Donations and grants are not tax-deductible.
Yet there are corporate entities that have Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) in their portfolio of activities through foundations that they have set up. Some do it loudly to gain public relations mileage, while others are quiet about their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/norway-supports-himalayan-climate-research?mdrv=www.nepalitimes.com&amp;=1">generous support</a>.
The CSR outlay of factories and manufacturing companies is regulated by Industrial Enterprise Act (IEA), while the Nepal Rastra Bank oversees grants banks and financial institutions contribute and requires them to set aside 1% of their net profit for CSR activities.
The guideline requires banks and financial institutions to donate to activities covering education, health, environment and financial literacy, among others. Recently, the Supreme Court directed the government to formulate a Bill in the parliament to standardise and regulate the private sector’s CSR activities.
“We receive guidelines from Nepal Rastra Bank and follow them,” says Pranisha Shrestha who heads the CSR Department at NMB Bank. “We have got a notice about updates on those guidelines, and we will adapt accordingly.”
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/greening-nepal-s-tourism">Environmental sustainability </a>is one of the important components of CSR for Nepali companies, and there have been many initiatives aimed at urban renewal. One of the most visible is of the telecommunication company Ncell, which is among Nepal’s largest taxpayers.
Five years ago, Ncell adopted a 6km stretch of the Ring Road from Ekantakuna to Koteswor-Kalanki, planting 12,000 saplings. They have now grown into<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/seeing-the-forest-and-trees-in-nepal"> a thick forest</a> along the embankment of the road.
Not only is the lush greenery in an overbuilt part of Lalitpur soothing to the eye, it also helps in reducing temperature within <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">the urban heat bubble</a>, and also contributes to reducing air pollution and traffic noise.
“We started a pilot project along 600m of the Ekantakuna section of the Ring Road during the pandemic,” recalls Bishakha Lakshmi Khadka, Director of Corporate Communications and Sustainability at Ncell. “It went really well, and after that we extended the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-cities-with-trees"> tree planting</a> and upkeep to Kalanki.”
Sustainability also means making younger Nepalis aware of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">the value of nature </a>and environmental sustainability, which is why Ncell has also undertaken a Green School initiative in and around Kathmandu Valley. Besides its One-Tree-One-Youth and 1 Million Trees campaigns, the initiative also aims at behavior change about littering with its waste hackathon in schools.
“The young students can be catalysts with a multiplier effect beyond their schools to society at large, and it has inter-generational impact into the future,” explains Khadka.
Indeed, while <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tree-mendous">Nepal has doubled its forest cover </a>in the past 30 years to 46% of the country’s area, urban centres like Kathmandu do not have much open spaces and greenery left. And that is where companies like Ncell, Jawalakhel Group of Industries, and others have focused on CSRs.
NMB Bank also runs financial literacy programs for youth where they can learn more about social media safeguards, digital payment systems, with a focus on safety and security. Such training not only helps build skills for the future but also protects young Nepalis from online crime.
“<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/protecting-children-from-anti-social-media">Threats to young minds through social media</a> use are growing as platforms feed algorithm-driven content,” says Shrestha. “We felt media and digital literacy are important in all seven provinces not just to protect young people, but also give them the confidence to use digital financial systems.”
The bank has a special focus on women in leadership programs, and provides scholarships provided in schools across Nepal on environment and sustainability in higher education. Health is another sector where private companies have worked with donating medical equipment, sponsoring health camps and conducting blood donation drives.
CSR or PR?
Other companies heavily involved in CSR include NIMB Bank which contributes to heritage conservation and education, Buddha Air helps farmers in Morang to increase productivity, VOITH with its motto ‘Little things We Do’ provides scholarships to students and has gifted &nbsp;vehicles to hospitals and nature conservation groups, Dwarika’s Hotel promotes organic farming and zero waste initiatives, heritage conservation and helps revive traditional handicrafts.
Although some CSR activities have been criticised for masquerading as PR and for greenwashing, many Nepali companies are actually contributing to improve the situation for individuals in need and underserved communities.
It also brings a sense of accountability to the corporate sector so they look beyond shareholder profit with greater involvement in the public good. In Nepal, where government delivery mechanisms are not up to speed in the social sector and environmental sustainability, CSR is a vehicle for public-private partnerships.
Collaboration with the government is an important aspect of these initiatives since that allows localised campaigns to be scaled up by showing what is possible. For example, the three Metropolitan Cities of the Valley and other private companies are trying to emulate what Ncell has achieved on the Ring Road.
“The Ring Road plantation project has been massively successful,” says Khadka “We were recognised by the Lalitpur Metropolitan City and the Forestry Department for adding greenery to what would have been just an asphalt strip.”

Corporates responsible to society

This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;