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Nepal needs to enact and enforce animal law

Every morning at dawn, Nashir Khan wakes up to the ruckus of dogs he shelters at his home in Chobhar, all hankering to be fed. As he goes about his day, providing meals for countless community dogs across Kathmandu, he will likely make some ruckus of his own, outraged by those who mistreat the animals. Khan’s dedication to the wellbeing of Kathmandu’s dogs spans many years, administering medicine, taking them to the vet, advocacy through radio, and confrontation with those abusing dogs. Khan has been engaged in charity work most of his life, beginning at age 7 carrying food to imprisoned or hospitalised members of his community. “I don’t think about what I might gain. I don’t even like the word ‘gain’,” he tells us. He was drawn to the plight of dogs after he started caring for a dog a neighbour had neglected. That was where his lifelong commitment to dog care began. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kalle-s-cross-continental-journey">Kalle’s cross-continental journey</a>, Nepali Times  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024080211088_0e2d6dd658460bde513bc9ba252f7098ccf1f46d4373e6935d1613dc25290552.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024080211088_0e2d6dd658460bde513bc9ba252f7098ccf1f46d4373e6935d1613dc25290552" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Must love dogs NT"></figure>  “More than people, dogs have many hardships,” he explains. “I needed to help them.” Although city residents are increasingly accommodating of pets, the same affection is not afforded to street dogs who face much mistreatment and neglect, including from local governments which have used poison to control the stray population. However, the growth of dog-care organisations and social media attention has promoted more humane methods like neutering. The Kathmandu Metropolitan City funded Manumitra project began in 2016, focusing on community awareness and population control. While official records indicate declining numbers and healthier dogs, animal organisations are skeptical. Sneha Shrestha of the Federation for Animal Welfare Nepal, says that the street dog population exceeds 100,000. “On World Rabies Day there are programs publicising vaccination of 40 or 50 dogs, but after that there is very little done,” adds Shrestha who works with a network of street dog organisations. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-street-smart-dogs">Kathmandu’s street-smart dogs</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024080211088_582c0526f411dc35a08e1ab137a55a8f3e9ff083894191eac02c0b21ab61451b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024080211088_582c0526f411dc35a08e1ab137a55a8f3e9ff083894191eac02c0b21ab61451b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Must love dogs NT"></figure>  Despite increased advocacy and awareness, the perception of menacing, unclean creatures persists. Between 2022-23 the Epidemiology and Disease Control Division reported 106,993 dog bites, the majority in Kathmandu. To mitigate the risk of diseases such as rabies, organisations working in dog welfare and veterinary services must shoulder the cost of vaccines themselves. Khan was previously involved with animal hospital projects and street dog programs, and has since developed mistrust for the organisations, believing their primary goals are recognition and financial gain. Khan’s work is entirely self-funded, as he patrols the city in a motorbike that serves as a dog ambulance. But he often faces public opposition, and he has been beaten up, once the injuries kept him in bed for more than two weeks. Angry locals challenged his care of dogs when there were so many people in need of help. Still, he remains unfazed, claiming: “When they curse at me I either laugh or just ignore it.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/microchipping-nepals-dogs/">Microchipping Nepal’s dogs</a>, Aria Shree Parasai  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024080211088_ea83e6246929af1b2d3835d244dfd502a95bba455a07059db788f9590be9e3a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024080211088_ea83e6246929af1b2d3835d244dfd502a95bba455a07059db788f9590be9e3a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1777" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Must love dogs NT"></figure>  Encountering canine abuse has spurred Khan into aggression himself. Recently, when a cyclist ran over a dog sleeping on the road, the initial verbal confrontation escalated into Khan threatening the man with a hacksaw. “I just cannot watch dogs being harmed,” he says. Independent filmmaker Shyam Karki is producing a documentary on Khan titled ‘Unholy Love’. The filmmaker first met Khan in 2015 while he was feeding dogs on the streets of Chhetrapati. The documentary explores how a part of the reason for Khan’s ostracisation is that he is a Muslim. “In other countries Muslims are very strict about don’t do this and don’t do that, but whether I go to heaven or hell is of little relevance to me,” says Khan who is married to a Hindu Newar person. Both faced social exclusion from their communities because of their marriage, but Khan credits his wife for transforming his wayward ways into passion for social work. Lately, Khan has added collective mobilisation to his work, decrying injustices on Facebook and uniting the efforts of other street dog carers. With or without support, his work continues. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/bhaktapurs-dog-catchers/">Bhaktapur’s dog catchers</a>, Monika Deupala

Must love dogs

<figure><img width="991" height="445" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19a59c7e80680e0ac82fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>An illustration from the book 'Sathi' by Jenny Campbell </figcaption></figure>Nepal is a land of despair and hope. Despite enormous hardships, Nepalis have learnt to survive, and indeed surmount them. There is injustice and exclusion, but also a surge of youthful activism. The present may look hopeless, but we still hold out hope for a better tomorrow.We <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/activists-against-animal-cruelty-at-nepal-temple/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">treat our animals badly</a>, yet we worship them as manifestations of our gods.This contrast between cruelty and compassion is this most pronounced in the lives of street fauna, creatures with whom we share our urban space. Dogs are mistreated, tortured and killed, but there are also many families which have adopted dozens of street dogs to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/wanting-nothing-in-return-but-love/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">feed and care</a> for, despite not having spare income. They may not be rich, but they display a richness of compassion for fellow beings.On <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/every-day-is-dog-day/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kukur Tihar</a> on 3 November this year, we will worship our pets and community dogs, garlanding and feeding them treats. But in the evening, many of the same families will light firecrackers to frighten the living daylights out of their dogs. This Tihar, like in previous years, many pets will get lost – desperately fleeing the explosions, until they have run too far to find their way back home.It is to draw attention to how street animals bring out the best (and sometimes the worst) in human beings that this Kukur Tihar will see the launch of another book about a Nepali dog. She is named Sathi, a dog that finds <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/angel-meets-an-angel/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a new life</a> thanks to kind hoomans. Appropriately, ‘Sathi’ means ‘friend’ in Nepali – after all, we are talking about man’s best friends.Sathi is an exquisitely illustrated bilingual book for children and adults that tells a fairy tale story of an abandoned dog, who is scalded on Kukur Tihar by a city shopkeeper. She is so angry that the dog is messing up her shop, she throws a bucketful of boiling water on the hapless pooch. Sathi is miserable and in pain as she licks her wounds at a garbage pile, until she finds a benefactor who takes her to the real-life animal shelter called KAT Centre in Kathmandu.Sathi is cared for at the dog home, and the burns on her back heal slowly. She makes friends with other dogs at the shelter who have also been attacked, abandoned, or hit by cars. There is Moti, Momo, Karma, Tashi – all with heart-rending stories from the streets.“You know, dogs are often not treated very well here in Kathmandu,” a dog named Karma who lost one eye to a knife-wielding attacker tells Sathi. “Not all people like dogs and they only honor us one day a year, on Kukur Tihar. The rest of the time, they don’t really care about us.”   Like most fairy tales, Sathi has a happy ending. But unfortunately, that is not the case for most of Kathmandu’s street dogs.Julu is the pseudonym of the author, a world traveler who cares about animals, and who has three dogs of her own. She was prompted to write the book after learning of a dog who had been burnt on her back because a neighbour did not want the dog bothering her. After seeing the dog lying in the rain, licking its burns, Julu decided to help. She got the dog into a shelter, and ultimately adopted by a family in Canada.This true story on which the book is based is explained in the Epilogue that also contains a list of animal shelters in Kathmandu that care for abandoned dogs and find homes for them. Part of the proceeds of the book will go to support some of these shelters.The last paragraph of Sathi is moving reminder to us that every day should be Kukur Tihar in Nepal: ‘Sathi closed her eyes and promised never to forget what life had been like for her and her friends, and what it was still like for the dogs still living on the streets. She vowed in her heart to spread the word to all the dogs of Kathmandu, about what it could be like, to be adopted into a loving family.’Sathi is available for sale to worldwide audiences on the <a href="https://www.vajrabookshop.com/categories/children-books/products/sathi--the-street-dog-from-kathmandu">Vajra Books website</a>. For US and Canadian residents, it is also sold <a href="http://www.SathiStreetDog.org">here</a>.Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SathiStreetDog/">Sathi</a>Author’s Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100070971172156">page</a>. <a href="mailto:SathiStreetDog@gmail.com">SathiStreetDog@gmail.com</a> <a href="mailto:Vajrabooksktm@gmail.com">Vajrabooksktm@gmail.com</a>SathiThe Street Dog from Kathmandu, Nepalसाथीकाठमाडौँ सडकको एक कुकुरJuluillustrations by Jenny CampbellNepali translations by Angeela Shrestha and Suraj ShresthaRs600, $14.95ISBN: 978-9937-624-10-7<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19a79c7e80680e0ac830jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="882" height="668">

Adventures of a Kathmandu street dog

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be1f99c7e80680e083e7bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Safari elephants on the streets of Sauraha. Photo: ISAZ</figcaption></figure>Humans and elephants have shared environments for thousands of years, but what might surprise readers is that a quarter of the world’s Asian elephants live in captivity.These elephants are a vital and vibrant part of Nepal’s history, and their use has been documented since at least the fifth century in areas as diverse as war machines, living monuments to regal power and wealth, rewards for service and currently as tourist transport.Elephant tourism has become a major financial windfall for businessmen in the Chitwan National Park area, and photos of elephants on the streets of Sauraha have become synonymous with the location. Visitors to the area often mention their desire to ‘see elephants’ in both the wild and in captive settings. Tourism vendors must keep up the appearance of happy animals in idyllic settings in order to maintain a steady flow of income.However, there is no ‘sound science’ supporting elephant-backed tourism as indicated in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0cRf5xREKUphszMHgItcIk">a Nepali Times article of 4 October, 2020</a>, and no animal welfare studies that provide data that shows anything but substandard conditions in the majority of stables within the area.Waxing poetic about grand experiences on elephant-back does not change the data. In fact, I have spent the last four years as a rhino and elephant researcher in Nepal, and have just completed an assessment of not only the stables in Chitwan, but an overall review of captive elephant health and welfare throughout the US, UK and Asia.In a series of articles, Brown, et al found that elephants in tourism venues varied in weight, fecal glucocorticoid measurements (a sign of stress), and other hormonal studies depending upon their management techniques and expected performance of duties.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be1fd9c7e80680e083e7cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="412"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In a few studies, the elephants used in safari rides showed better weights and lower concentrations of certain stress hormones than those used in exhibition-only venues. However, while these analyses were conducted by reputable sources, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0cRf5xREKUphszMHgItcIk">the Nepali Times article</a> misrepresents their results. Rather than conclusively exonerating elephant captivity, these studies called for further research, acknowledging that the weight differences may be due to the practice of overfeeding sweet treats such as bananas and sugar cane to elephants kept in exhibition/visitation stables.In addition, being chained or kept in one place impacts exercise habits of these individuals, and increasing their activity via non-riding activities may be needed. Further studies showed that simply being exposed to humans was a stressful event, causing spikes in the stress hormones of captive elephants.Hopefully, new measures such as an examination of secretory hormones, will allow researchers to assess positive or negative experiences in elephants. Bansiddhi, et al and others in their studies have stated that the information is of limited value until a baseline study of normal levels in wild elephants can be obtained, and a determination of harmful levels can be gathered.Without this data, comparisons between elephants under varying management styles are more informational than diagnostic. In fact, at the EMA Conference 2020 last month, the need for better assessment tools and baseline studies in order to properly assess welfare were discussed.Other oft-quoted studies used by tourism agencies to promote elephant rides include those which say that the bullhook is not a danger in and of itself. This is a very true statement, just as any weapon is essentially harmless when disconnected from a human.Sadly, much traditional mahout knowledge regarding safe elephant handling has been lost, and bullhooks are now used nearly exclusively for fear and beating-based training, along with nails, knives, and sticks.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be1fe9c7e80680e083e7djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="318" height="241"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2009c7e80680e083e7ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="320" height="240"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Experienced mahouts have moved on to better jobs to escape the stigma of being low-caste or poorly-paid, researchers have found, leaving younger or inexperienced men to handle elephants using dominance and violence. Beatings often take place in view of visitors, and present tourists with a negative view of Nepal. There are no laws specifically protecting elephants in Nepal, and this lack of legislation (despite support for it from various government agencies) puts an uncomfortable spotlight on the country.A reality that animal welfare advocates (both Nepali and western) must acknowledge is that one cannot simply expect elephant rides to stop overnight. Those of us working in elephant research and welfare acknowledge the need for a gradual change which provides training and better employment opportunities for mahouts, financial stability for owners, and opportunities for local community members who rely on elephant tourism for their survival.Having a long-term plan in place is key for the well-being of all stakeholders. By pushing for better elephant standards, we are not clamouring to immediately eradicate elephant tourism. In fact, most researchers realise that government-owned elephants are a necessary part of anti-poaching, emergency rescue and wildlife census activities. During the monsoon season, these elephants remain the only way to enter the park.Happy elephantsThe elephants at Tiger Tops Tharu Village, who were participants in my study as well as being mentioned in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw0cRf5xREKUphszMHgItcIk">Lisa Choegyal’s article</a>, have significantly different lives than most elephants in Nepal. These elephants are kept in chain-free enclosures, and have a large number of well-trained and experienced mahouts to care for them and are allowed more agency in their daily activities.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2019c7e80680e083e7fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In addition, the staff of Tiger Tops has agreed that they will <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/elephants-born-free,3302" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/elephants-born-free,3302&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2uQ2YkyaSKvngH-Nqafm_y">no longer purchase elephants</a> once this herd passes. But these humane conditions are aberrant for captive elephants in Nepal.Surveys into the health and welfare of privately-held elephants have shown nutritional deficiencies, physical deformities and injuries, wounds from abuse and abscesses from saddles, death from preventable disorders, stillbirth and near-constant reproductive issues. Injuries and some disease processes are common in tourism venues throughout Asia, but are manageable with changes to management and husbandry styles.Furthermore, the majority of elephants in the Sauraha area are not allowed to recline for rest, get dirty or dig (a necessity for foot and joint health), but are instead chained by front and back legs. Recumbancy for sleep is incredibly important for elephant health, as is digging.  Simple, inexpensive changes to stables — such as providing dirt for the expression of natural behaviours or more appropriate nutrition — would be a game changer for the elephants of Nepal.Look, don’t touchThe captive elephants of Nepal also represent a population which may impact the life span of wild elephants in the area. Because they carry diseases such as TB, found in at least 23% of the captive population and has recently resulted in the deaths of two government-owned elephants, they risk passing along a variety of bacteria to wild populations.Furthermore, studies have shown that the pressure placed on forest resources by captive elephants impacts the availability of resources for wild elephants. Preserving these endangered species in their natural habitats should be a priority for the government of Nepal, and allowing the keeping of captive elephants in shared spaces is a risky practice.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2039c7e80680e083e80jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="480" height="640"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2059c7e80680e083e81jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="480" height="638">IllegalityBecause Nepal is a CITES signatory, the trade and sale of these endangered species is illegal. Yet, it continues unabated, and owners openly acknowledge this fact in newspaper articles and emails. No amount of description of peaceful jungle walks or ‘ethical’ activities will change the fact that the use of these animals for commercial purposes is illegal.Until the government of Nepal enforces CITES there will be no effective changes. Owners should refrain from buying or selling elephants in the future, as a sign of their commitment to creating lasting changes in Sauraha. Visitors to the area should be aware of the laws surrounding elephant trade, and consider this fact when booking travel to areas advertising elephant tourism.The upsideCurrently, there are multiple plans in place to create a non-riding sanctuary in the Chitwan National Park area of Nepal, and NGOs such as Jane Goodall-Nepal and World Animal Protection have been in talks for years with the local elephant owner’s cooperative group about this issue.If all owners agreed to stop tourist elephant riding, these organisations, and others, have indicated that there would be a great deal of financial support available. But because there have been holdouts among cooperative members, talks have stalled for the time being.There is now discussion of a cooperatively-owned facility housing a few of the members' elephants which will provide viewing of elderly individuals and riding of younger ones. However, this hardly fits the definition of a true sanctuary.Instead, Sauraha has the unique opportunity to become a completely ride-free, chain-free venue due to the relatively small number of captive elephants, and the acknowledgement by owners that these elephants now require a change in treatment and management.These owners have the chance to establish Sauraha as a more ethical tourism venue, while still creating income for themselves and maintaining employment opportunities for marginalised communities of mahouts. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for Nepal, and the elephant owners, to create a world-recognised facility. Hopefully, owners will embrace this opportunity and create lasting changes in the elephant industry.Luckily, there is already one smaller NGO in the Chitwan area working with local stakeholders to purchase elephants out of riding situations, and quietly transfer them to true sanctuaries. In addition, other organisations are working with hotel owners to lease elephants, keeping them off safari.In addition, there are other ethical venues open for tourist visits. One way to ensure your destinations are animal-friendly or ethical is look at the access offered to living animals. If the venue allows human touching of animals, then it is best to avoid. Use your tourist dollars to support facilities that care about animal health and welfare. Look, but don’t touch.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2069c7e80680e083e82jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="480" height="638"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The bottom lineNo one wishes to ban tourism in Nepal. It is a beautiful location with much to offer, and has set a high standard in preserving natural habitats for wildlife. Visitors to Nepal can enjoy jungle walks, home stays, local food and products, and enjoy the sight of wildlife crossing the Rapti River at sunset.What must change, however, is for tourists to take responsibility for their own impacts on both wild and captive elephants as well as local communities. This endangered species deserves our respect and better treatment in return for their years of hard work.They deserve a life with proper nutrition, agency, and space. Well-informed tourists will continue to visit the area, and should use their tourist dollars to support ethical activities and stay in hotels that promote chain-free corrals and well-nourished elephants.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181120/636be2089c7e80680e083e83jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="155" height="200">If you would like to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/speaking-for-elephants/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/speaking-for-elephants/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2quOJmNVbFWhDn_B2t3uUW">discuss elephants</a>, tourism, or my research, feel free to comment on this article, and I will reach out to you.<a href="https://socialsciences.exeter.ac.uk/ease/people/michelleszydlowski/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://socialsciences.exeter.ac.uk/ease/people/michelleszydlowski/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw2zQRnF4ajftgPJeObTtrDF">Michelle Szydlowski</a> is a PhD candidate with the <a href="https://www.exeter.ac.uk/postgraduate/courses/anthropology/anthrozoology/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.exeter.ac.uk/postgraduate/courses/anthropology/anthrozoology/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1605948955641000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1UB0aiC8CQ-v65K0u8kWuD">University of Exeter Anthrozoology </a>Department. Her research focuses on pachyderm-people relationships in Nepal, captive elephant welfare, and sustainable tourism.

Set the elephants free

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181112/636be0419c7e80680e083de4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="916" height="1377"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Lisa Choegyal’s column ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Elephant Dilemma</a>’, 4 October 2020 elicited many comments from readers, some of which are excerpted here:<ul><li>As a group of animal welfare organisations we have to disagree with Lisa Choegyal’s stand on elephant safaris.</li></ul>Just because elephants are part of Nepal’s heritage does not mean traditions should not change. Many outdated practices have been abandoned, including widow sacrifice and child labour, because they were against the ethics of the time. In any case, even if elephant tourism stopped today, elephants would remain an integral part of Nepal’s heritage.Just because elephants in Nepal are not used in ‘alien’ environments such as beaches and temples, does not mean that Chitwan’s tourist safaris are ‘natural’. Most elephants live in ‘unnatural’ shelters, usually a simple structure of zinc sheet with 4 poles. They are tied 24/7 unless taken for a ride. With a lack of fresh greens, their diet is ‘unnatural’. Even the carrying of four tourists and a mahout is ‘unnatural’:  even though elephants look invincible, science says that their skeleton is not designed to carry great weight on top of their spines.Just because of a concern for loss of tourism, elephant riding and bathing does not need to be continued. The quick growth of non-contact tourism projects across the world shows there is great potential. Nepal introduced many humane alternatives for safaris (by canoe, car or on foot) and a pioneer company has already unchained its elephants. There is a growing market for a more ethical kind of tourism that involves elephants, be it in sanctuaries, elephant walking or viewing, kuchi and paper making, etc.We feel there is enough evidence to show that elephant safaris generally are a cruel business. We have shown that over 80% of elephants live under ‘unsuitable conditions’. This is in line with World Animal Protection’s more recent findings that claim that more than three-quarter of captive elephants are kept in ‘severely-cruel conditions’.Other groups have used video evidence to show present training techniques certainly do not ‘mostly employ kindness and positive reinforcement’. Instead sharp objects, fire, fireworks and noise continue to be used to break in young elephants. Even the presumption that Nepal’s safari elephants are no longer taken from the wild cannot be confirmed. The origins of elephants brought in from India are largely unknown as there is no proper documentation and no government control.Ms Choegyal argues that people like us ‘are shamelessly manipulating this emotion to convince the world that it is cruel to keep elephants in captivity’. This kind of languages creates an unnecessary and unbeneficial divide. We certainly do not try to manipulate anyone. We use evidence to show the realities of elephant tourism and to propose change.We also introduce feasible alternatives and are ready to support such initiatives. At present we need all parties to save Nepal’s precious wildlife and the country’s tourism industry. The sooner we join hands, the better.Animal NepalAnimal Rights ClubAssociation Moey - Helping Captive ElephantsElephant Aid InternationalHelp Animals IndiaNepal Elephant Walk Sanctuary People's Alliance for Nature NepalStand Up 4 Elephants  <ul><li>Domesticated elephants play a major role in providing employment and economic opportunities to the local people through tourism, and in also provide invaluable help to conservationists in researching and protecting Nepal’s wild places.</li></ul>Hemanta Mishra<ul><li>Cruelty to animals is a worldwide phenomenon. Dogs caged in China and Vietnam meat markets. Whale massacres in Japan. The Gadimai sacrifices in Nepal. There are so many other forms of abuse of animals that need to be stopped more urgently. I agree with Lisa Choegyal that elephant safaris in Nepal are much more benign, and many livelihoods depend on it.</li></ul>Erin Petersen<ul><li>Having seen the way elephants are taught ‘obedience’ and ‘tamed’ in Sri Lanka and Thailand, it is unconscionable that human beings in countries that practice the Buddhist ethos of compassion should be treating sentient beings in this way. In fact, elephants in the wild have a sophisticated family structure, respond to stress just like human beings when chained and confined. Elephants belong in the wild, and ‘elephant safaris’ should take on a new meaning, venturing into the jungle to observe them in their natural habitat.</li></ul>Nandita Ghosh<ul><li>Those critical of captive elephants in Chitwan’s tourism industry should not keep dogs as pets. There should only be wild dogs, and they should be allowed to roam freely in the wilderness.</li></ul>K B Limbu<ul><li>I find it astonishing that so-called elephant activists do not seem to consider the fact that their blanket call for a ban on all captive elephants would leave thousands of them with no way to be supported, nowhere to live (since there is not enough wild land to release them to), and thousands of associated families with no work. Their plight would be worse.</li> 	<li>It would be a great differentiating point for Nepal to have every elephant facility audited to a recognised set of international standards. It would be the only country to do this.</li> 	<li>I'm all for a spirited debate on captive, domesticated elephant tours that meet the highest animal welfare standards, benefit communities, contribute to the stewardship of protected areas and create high-quality nature-based visitor experiences.</li> 	<li>Without delving too deep into the nuances of the issues associated with owning elephants … the most important aspect is how you look after captive elephants and not really what you do with them. With that in mind I feel husbandry standards across the board can be improved in Nepal. Having an independent body to advise and monitor owners is a very good idea.</li> 	<li>At the moment it does look like a losing battle to keep elephants working, at least in India. If there is a ban on elephant safaris, it will mean more neglect of the captive animals.</li> 	<li>Dr Ingrid Suter makes a compelling case for captive elephant conservation and tourism. Particularly interesting is her belief in a grassroots, bottoms up consultation which I think is an excellent approach for Nepal.</li> 	<li>It is time for Nepal to end all forms of cruelty to animals, including cruel mass sacrifices, poisoning street dogs, and mistreatment of elephants in the name of tourism. If nothing else, it is bad karma.</li> 	<li>I agree, the welfare of captive elephants used for tourism is a concern in many countries and probably the certification model could address the critical welfare issue in Nepal.</li> 	<li>Nepal has always been unique in the use of domestic elephants for shoots in the old days and safari in more contemporary times. The good thing is Nepal has never used domestic elephants for work such as logging, etc.</li></ul>(Names supplied)

Speaking for elephants

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

A new normal

This is the 75th 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 was a country boy from Sarlahi, and my mother a city girl from Kathmandu. They had an inter-ethnic marriage, which was difficult until the two families gradually began to accept it. My parents, who worked in development, viewed the world through a social lens. They often traveled overseas for their INGO work, leaving me and my sister behind. We spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house, or in rented apartments with guardians. Between Grades 1 and 10, I must have switched schools seven times. Our parents prioritised our education, and enrolled me in the most expensive schools. I was shocked by my school fees, and often wondered how they managed with their salaries.&nbsp; I wanted to become a businessman, so I could have the kind of life some of my well-to-do friend had. My family was not from a business background, and social services didn’t lend themselves to that kind of lifestyle. Now I realise what my parents gave me was already over the top, a truth that becomes clearer as I get older. Our family was getting along fine until our father died while working on a project in Dhading in September 2021. The official reason was ‘heart attack’. We do not talk about this much, perhaps as a way of dealing with the loss.&nbsp; He was our rock, and everything got harder. At least we had good people around us who reminded us to take care of our mother and to work hard. And we did. My sister and I made TikToks during the lockdown, initially in a joint account which reached its peak in 2022-2023. I had always wanted to be an actor, but I knew the film industry does not pay well. My parents also urged me to keep my interest in acting as a passion project. TikTok enabled us to showcase our talent for comedy. We figured out how to crack TikTok’s algorithm and stayed on top of trends. People liked our duo and the raw and authentic content. It required a strategy, luck, planning, and understanding the game.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251204121236_1afc10a8107e0aef5b94977860bc2cb138ddd1a100cadc7324da675b7ca0810c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1778" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  We use a hashtag #NakarmiKhanalAF in all our content drawing from my parents’ last names although they did not need to know what ‘AF’ stood for.&nbsp; My first viral content involving a humorous take on a Marvel character hit over 500k. That fusion combining international trends with Nepali humor worked really well, and I started making it my niche, adapting content.&nbsp; My father was always thick-skinned and did not have to try to be cool or tough. He was unapologetically himself, sometimes to the point where my sister and I felt embarrassed. When he was invited as a chief guest at a cricket game, for example, I remember feeling proud to be the child of an ‘important person’, but he grabbed the mic and told everyone to start cleaning the ground.&nbsp; Many of our friends came from wealthy families because of the schools we attended, and he proudly lectured them about our humble background and the importance of social service. Growing up, we tried hard to get his validity. My proudest moment was gifting him a shirt bought with my first salary. My father did not get to see our rise on social media, but I know he is watching over us just as he always did. The first brand deal I got was memorable but awkward. It was for a grooming package for private parts. I used to think about how movie actors start their journeys with advertisements for underwear, and this was going to be my story, my ‘humble beginning’ as a content creator.&nbsp; They did not even pay me money but just gave me the items. Other brands started coming in and with them, money. I earned as much as Rs40,000 per content and tried to make one every day. This was a big contrast to my monthly salary of Rs35,000 in a clothing store. All along, I was acutely aware that fame would not last forever. Just like one of my singer friends Wangden had said in a podcast: he was going to have fun while fame lasted.&nbsp; After TikTok was banned in India, there was even more uncertainty about social media. The alternates were also not assuring: people running businesses had to close up or were stuck, and the political uncertainty was scary. This pushed me to think about migrating, and Australia was a safe backup. I uploaded content right upto two hours before my flight from Kathmandu. I wanted to have enough savings so I did not have to start working right away in Australia. I was buying freedom. Since I had to change schools frequently, Rodin was one of few enduring friends I had. He was in Australia and assured me that he would take care of everything, and he did. He was my family there, and I did not have to go through the initial struggle that other international students had to endure.&nbsp; In Australia, I have done multiple jobs over the last two years and completed my MBA. My interviewer challenged me to make him laugh with one of my content videos. He did and I started work the very next day though I know I got the job because a hardworking friend had recommended me. To the boss, I was just another Nepali who could work swiftly. I mopped floors, washed dishes, and served customers. This was Australia, and I hustled. But I knew there had to be more to life. The long hours and little sleep eventually caught up with me. One day I slept 14–15 hours straight, and when I woke up, it hit me that I should try networking.&nbsp; I reached out to admins of Australia-based Facebook groups. Some replied, some did not, some offered jobs that were not for me. Then came an email from 8848 Momo House, and I travelled to Brisbane to meet the owner Hom Pyashi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251204121232_ef61cf49eaa208293eecc7e2c5c075644ca6dd4bb844881249889586ae91025e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1548" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  “Do you want momos?” was the first thing he asked warmly. He told me to stop by one of his new outlets and make a video. I did, and I was hired the next day.&nbsp; It was that easy, and I have been working there ever since. My boss would later share in a conversation that he did not hire me because of the video but because I was young and he saw hunger in my eyes. To him, I was clay that he could help shape. I am now the marketing head, and the chain is doing well. Content creation is still a side job that brings in money. But just as my parents said, it remains a side passion.&nbsp; Then came the GenZ protests. On social media I compared Nepal’s youth to relaxed backbenchers who finally act when provoked enough to get things done. I could relate to the rage and suffocation. A song I was featured in was supposed to be released just when social media was banned in Nepal, and that fuelled my anger. But from the onset, I was wary of the headless nature of this movement, there was no ठुलो मान्छे leading and no one would be accountable if something went wrong. There was so much uncertainty, and I am not comfortable with uncertainty. We were glued to social media as the protests happened, at work and in the gym. When we learnt of the deaths of young Nepalis back home, a part of me died. The grief of unexpectedly losing my father came back.&nbsp; I left the gym early because I just could not take it. My friend and I just drove quietly to a nearby waterside. We did not even sit together because neither of us wanted to notice that we were in tears.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251204121236_99d662d9b4239e22410217146f87d7bed694d6543fa62d3b145401a5cf1cc7aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  One of the messages I received was a GoFundMe link to support the victims. I shared it, but someone asked if it was genuine. That is when it hit me that I had a large social media following and could not just share things without verifying them. I removed the link. The only person I felt I could trust was myself, so I decided to start my own fundraiser. I felt emotional and helpless, and had to do something.&nbsp; I assumed we could raise around AUD5,000. I was wrong. Within hours, we had raised nearly AUD60,000. Fellow content creators Avash and Manzil from Minority Report had also started a GoFundMe, and we decided to join forces.&nbsp; Partnering with them was going to be a lifesaver because I was not at all prepared for what was ahead. Over 11,000 people contributed across our two campaigns, raising AUD514,386. But we had not thought through the logistical challenge, the online hate and the delays. We needed to release the money to the right organisations in Nepal, get complete information about the families of the martyrs and injured — our primary target groups.&nbsp; We faced a huge amount of backlash after a hate narrative instigated by a few people spread online. We just could not get our message across that it was not as simple as raising the money and handing it over. People believed what they wanted to believe. Internet hate can take you to very dark places, even when you believe in your cause and know it can bring some comfort to grieving families. You try to focus on the positive message, because many people did support us, but the hate and accusations do bring you down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251204121232_3045b4b91371fa210362f49a8d9ff279e1bb1cbee9fb8cc0641dbcbd6594aa98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="2868" loading="lazy" alt="Things eventually work out NT"> </figure>  When I was paralysed by the internet hate to carry out even the most mundane activities like cooking and cleaning, my roommate Bibek took over. He even made me watch an episode from the Mahabharat capturing Krishna’s teachings on karma without worrying about the fruits, a lesson that did not just help me get out of that depressive episode but has become a guiding principle for life. How would I have emerged out of that darkness when I was battling with suicidal thoughts if people had not showed up for me? We worked day and night to find the right partners, and because of the large amount of money and the level of transparency we asked for, many influencers or organisations turned us down.&nbsp; This was not easy because we had our own jobs to take care of, our own bills to worry about that were not linked to the fundraiser. It helped that my team at 8848 let me deal with this during work hours, and assured me that they will stand by me no matter what. Thankfully, we finally partnered with Nepal Rising (Daayitwa US), a professional and transparent organisation that stepped in and saved the day. GoFundme finally released the funds to their account and it has begun reaching the right people. My sister helped ensure the money is delivered properly. As a final check, I speak with the families in Nepal and offer my condolences. I honour their loved one’s contribution to our country and we will make sure it is never forgotten. But no matter what we say or how much we try to help, the heartbreaking truth is that their young son or sibling is not coming back. The narrative is slowly changing. Slaps are now claps. But the trauma of the public hate is so great that it still gnaws at me, I have anxiety about attending Nepali gatherings like concerts here. I remember when a dance I had created for Bola Maya went viral on TikTok, with tens of thousands of people picking it up. A chef friend told me it was time to use that influence for a social cause. Those words stayed with me. As I navigated the backlash, I was also reminded of my parents who worked on social causes and asked my mother if they had faced similar cases. She had, and she reminded me that all we can do is stay focused on the cause and drown out the noise. Things will eventually work out.

Things eventually work out

This is the 76th 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. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

In a democracy, governments come and go. But Nepal had become so entangled in the triangular affair between Sher Bahadur Deuba, K P Oli and Pushpa Kamal Dahal that it was becoming impossible to tell who was canoodling with whom.&nbsp;
All three had long since abandoned their party ideologies. Staying in power was all that mattered as they turned Nepal’s democracy into a kleptocracy.&nbsp;
For the past at least 20 years, we have warned them to mend their ways. Democracy had to be rescued from the hands of such kakistocrats. Waiting to pounce were monarchists and anarchists of every ilk, outcast Maoists, and supporters of a leader jailed for fraud. Tycoon Durga Prasai said his rally in March was to restore a Hindu monarchy, but he was just a temporary royalist whom even the ex-king spurned.&nbsp;
All this converged into a perfect storm on 8 September. Commandos shot and killed 19 innocent young people outside Parliament, the anger boiled over into targetted arson and vandalism the next day. The government fell, and Sushila Karki was elected interim prime minister through Discord.&nbsp;
With not just their monopoly on power but also their very lives in danger, the triumvirate was at first in total shock. Then came conspiracy theories and an inability to gauge the rage from decades of misrule.
Nepalis had assumed that after September the old parties would see their folly, and step down to hand over the leadership to a new generation. But 10 weeks later, there is no sign of any act of contrition.
In the NC, Sher Bahadur Deuba has sidelined the caretaker he himself appointed, Purna Bahadur Khadka, and is active again as the party prepares for a showdown in its Convention next month. The UML is proceeding with its own General Convention, where Oli is fully assured of a third term as party boss. Dahal sees no alternative to himself in his newly-forged Nepali Communist Party and is eagerly eyeing becoming prime minister for the fourth time.&nbsp;
The three leaders who everyone had hoped would finally retire have reincarnated. It is obscene for obsolete politicians to still hanker for power after all that has happened.&nbsp;
SHOCK AND AWE
The three leaders who have been prime minister a dozen times between themselves want to cling on, but this is not abnormal if we apply <a href="https://www.bbc.com/audio/play/w3cszmjz" target="_blank">Elisabeth Kübler-Ross</a>’ theory of the five stages of grief. The author of <a href="https://www.google.com.np/books/edition/On_Death_and_Dying/GlSq0AEACAAJ?hl=en" target="_blank">On Death and Dying</a> was analysing how people with terminal illness deal with their situation, but her 5-stage theory may be applicable to the way heads of the NC, UML and NCP are reacting to the shock of being overthrown — first with denial, then anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.&nbsp;
On 9 September, distressed by what had befallen them, the three were in total denial. Then began the stage of anger. Oli ranted in public about a conspiracy to install an ‘unconstitutional’ interim government, blaming the Nepal Army, and vowing not to take part in election even while preparing for it.
The NC has decided to participate in elections, although it has to first sort out its internal power struggle. The NCP and the RSP have united with smaller parties and are actively preparing to campaign. GenZ groups are speaking in different voices, with Sudan Gurung and Miraj Dhungana openly trying to unseat an interim government they themselves installed.&nbsp;
The parties are now in the third stage: bargaining. Instead of asking himself in hindsight what he should have done, Oli wants Parliament restored but has also registered his party for elections. The UML won't allow elections unless the government lifts restrictions on Oli’s movement.
Likewise, GenZ groups are putting up conditions for supporting polls: arrest Oli and others. Karki is single-mindedly focussed on elections, even if it has to be put off by two months. The Army would also like polls on time because it does not want a repeat of September when it had to intervene to form the interim government.
If Karki’s 6-month mandate ends without elections, and if by then the GenZ’s trust in the interim government collapses, then UML and NC could plan to press for an all-party election government, restoration of Parliament which would then dissolve itself to appoint a new prime minister that Karki would also be agreeable to.
The current state of affairs makes it difficult to imagine elections being held on 5 March — mainly because polls would be incomplete without the three main parties taking part, and it is unlikely they would participate in polls that they are certain to lose since they have not reformed themselves. Amidst these ifs and buts, the role of the Army will be critical.&nbsp;
The fourth stage of grief is depression, and that is what will happen to the parties when the reality of their unpopularity finally hits them. Only then will they finally accept their fate, realise that it was all their own doing, and perhaps reinvent themselves.
Kübler-Ross said the five stages did not necessarily have to be in that order, or that sometimes there may only be three phases, which may be applicable to the parties. What is for sure is that the three leaders are in no mood to atone for their sins.
Rabin Giri is an editor with <a href="http://nepalnews.com/" target="_blank">nepalnews.com</a>.&nbsp;

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