<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151112/636bb61c9c7e80680e07bc42jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1228" height="850"/><figcaption>Bagmati River in the 1950s.</figcaption></figure>“As far as I know, there is no one conducting the ritual these days,” began Ganesh Maya Khadgi as she gazed out from her home on the banks of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Bagmati River</a> to the grey, slow-moving water just outside her door.She is referring to Naworatri, a ritual practiced by the Newas of Kathmandu during first nine days of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/dasain-once-more/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Dasain festival</a>, which this year fall in end-October. When she was young, she would join crowds of worshippers at two or three in the morning and they would walk together to the tirtha, holy sites on the banks of the river.On each day of the nine-day festival, they would travel to a different tirtha to cleanse themselves with holy water and offer puja to the river in the form of flowers placed on chaitya, small mounds of riverbank sand.“Why would anyone participate in this ritual anymore?” Ganesh Maya’s friendly, open face clouded over as she further poured out her disappointment.The communal pilgrimage along the rivers facilitated contact with the sacredness of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-ecology-of-worship-bagmati,3380" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the holy river</a>, she says, but due to the highly degraded quality of the water, even the most devout worshippers no longer want to make that connection. In some places, worship is not possible due to the accumulation of solid waste on the banks.Even if people are willing to make the holy ablutions with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/page/15/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the polluted water</a>, Ganesh Maya says that there is not enough sand left in the riverbanks to construct the chaitya. She speaks fondly of her memories of conducting the rituals despite the pain she feels from their loss.Neither her children nor her grandchildren have visited the tirtha for Naworatri, but she understands their reasoning for changing their ritual practice. Due to river pollution, the entire purpose of the ritual has been lost.***<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151112/636bb61f9c7e80680e07bc43jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1362" height="1322"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Across South Asia, rivers are regarded as sacred and are often worshipped as gods and goddesses, revered for the way they link heaven and earth. Some believe the rivers are homes to the divine, while others pray to the life-giving power inherent in the water. Because of this, rivers have historically played an essential role in the daily functioning of the communities built upon their banks.This is especially true in Kathmandu where the history of life in the valley is intimately connected with the rivers that define the landscape, so much so that its residents have often been referred to as members of the ‘<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/resurrecting-bagmati-the-river" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bagmati Civilisation</a>’.Early settlements within the valley were clustered on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">hilltops with farmland below on the river floodplains</a> to utilise the natural flow fluctuations of the monsoon. Despite the way that the rivers served agricultural functions, they were perceived as more than as natural economic assets.Instead, people saw themselves as living a balanced life with the environment, a belief that was reinforced by the traditional rites and rituals that have historically been tied to the rivers. Therefore, a harmony that emphasised co-existence and regeneration existed in the name of culture and religion.Now, however, those ties are being severed due to pollution and ideas about modernisation that relies upon the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/Comment/rivers-fighting-back,993" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">exploitation of natural resources and spaces</a>. But what happens to the Bagmati Civilisation when its people can no longer bear to stand on the banks of their sacred river?***<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6239c7e80680e07bc44jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tej Maya Maharjan also grew up going to the rivers for ritual events, watched this change occur throughout her life. She was elderly at the time of this interview, and has since passed away. Tej Maya visited the Kankeshwori Temple almost every morning for 70 years, and said the time she spent there was the highlight of her days.These visits were essential parts of both her religious and social life. She was widowed at a young age without children, and spent most of her life as a single woman. Instead, she found a family and a sense of community at Kankeshwori Temple. Tej Maya and her friends would gather along the river at the temple and whether they were singing songs, performing puja, or gossiping about their daughters-in-law, these morning trips for religious and social connection brought her joy throughout her entire life.Tej Maya emphasised the importance of conducting rituals at the temple for their role in childhood development. From a very young age, she would join her friends at the Bishnumati River every day during the Newa month of Yalaato collect Nil La:, sacred water, and make chaitya.“We would collect leaves from the pipal tree which had fallen on the ground. We would put some rice grain, tika power, and flowers on the leaf and twist the top and bottom ends, light a wick on the leaf then put it on the flowing water and watch it flow down the river. Then we would all walk to the temple with Nil La: to offer it to all the shrines present in the temple and offer puja,” Tej Maya said.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6269c7e80680e07bc45jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>For Tej Maya, conducting this ritual was the first time she and her friends had done puja or gone to the temple unaccompanied by adults, and therefore, they learned the procedures of the rites and how to take responsibility for the rituals on their own. Because children are no longer spending time at the rivers and riverside temples, with or without family members, Tej Maya and many others say that the youth of Kathmandu does not have the same understanding of the rituals or how to conduct puja.Although religious activity continues, increasingly, people say that the rituals are often conducted simply because they are tradition but there is less consideration for, or knowledge of, the meaning behind the actions being performed. This has a fundamental impact on the practice of religion and some of the most foundational tenets of the Bagmati Civilisation.One example of this is the way that the practice of bara (gufa halne in Nepali) is shifting. In a Newa girl’s life, the bara has traditionally been one of the most important and celebrated milestones. In this marriage to the sun, girls who are approaching puberty are kept in a dark room for eleven days, during which they cannot be exposed to the sun, nor see any men. This is not a period of isolation though, and instead, the days are filled with visits by female friends and relatives.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb62a9c7e80680e07bc46jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In the past, parents would bring pebbles from the nearby river to the room for the girl to play with. But these days, since there are no pebbles in the river, people use construction gravel instead. After the marriage to the sun was completed on 12th day of the ritual period, the girl would return the pebbles to the river on 13th day and perform puja on the banks, using her newfound knowledge to give thanks to the river for all that it provides.Increasingly though, families are sending their daughters to monasteries for a few days where they are taught the rituals by religious practitioners. In this changing practice, there is no connection with the river, and many say that a key component of bara is lost. Instead of being a coming-of-age period for elders to teach young girls about womanhood and religious practice that culminates with puja on the riverbank, the ritual is now frequently celebrated in banquet halls and party palaces staged for Instagram-worthy spectacles.Just as elements of bara are changing partially out of convenience and partially to distance the ritual from the polluted riverbanks, residents of Kathmandu, both religious practitioners and lay people, have observed a gradual shift in conceptions of the water that can be considered jal, or holy water.Chudamani, a Bajracharya priest, explains that river water is the purest of all forms and sources of water and has therefore traditionally been considered the only source of jal. “But instead of trying to preserve and restore river water, which is so essential for religious purposes, people are making changes in their cultural rituals due to the pollution,” he continued. In practice, this means that the definition of what counts as sacred water has expanded as an adaptation to changing environmental conditions.Macha Bhai Maharjan is a Niti Puja Pujari meaning he performs puja daily to the deity of the Kankeshwori Temple. He has spent innumerable hours at the temple and on the banks of the river, collecting sacred water for cleansing the temple. The river was a source of life for him but after he saw human feces floating in the water when collecting jal for a ritual, he says he has never returned to the banks of the Bishnumati.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb62d9c7e80680e07bc47jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCnPUqlrZJcMacha Bhai’s experience is not an anomaly. As <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/when-it-comes-to-water-pollution,3196" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the rivers became more polluted</a>, people began sourcing jal from wells bored near the river, their proximity affording the water extracted from them the same ritual significance as the river water once held. However, due to the rapidly depleting groundwater table, many of those wells have gone dry, or have become just as contaminated as the rivers that worshippers were trying to avoid. Once again, the devout were forced to search for alternative sources.***In the Hindu belief system, while river water is considered the most sacred, all water that is moving is pure. Under this definition, people could interpret the water coming out of the taps and dhunge dhara also as jal. Initially, water stored in tanks was not considered to be suitable for ritual purpose, but for many, this has changed once again. Now every temple has a tank that is filled by the municipality and there is no longer a need to visit the river.Macha Bhai’s experience with contamination in the Bishnumati was the moment he says he realised the sacred river no longer held its religious significance. He too uses water sourced from a tank at Kankeshwori Temple for his daily puja. While changes like this are upsetting to Chudamani, he says that despite his role as a priest, he and the others in his lineage profession “cannot do anything about it” and that he too limits his exposure to the once sacred water.The dissociation from the rivers, which have historically been considered the lifeblood of the city, happened gradually over a couple of generations. Just 30 years ago, many residents of Kathmandu remember swimming in the rivers and creeks that cross the valley. The rivers were wide and shallow with sandy bottoms that they could wade across. But a population growth rate that places Kathmandu among the fastest-growing cities in South Asia, coupled with the widespread adoption of water-intensive household and commercial amenities including flush toilets, washing machines, and solar water heaters without the construction of adequate wastewater treatment infrastructure has resulted in vast amounts of grey and black water end up in the riverways. Additionally, direct solid waste dumping, encroachment, and illegal and uncontrolled <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/crushing-tale-of-Chure" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">sand mining have all contributed to the degradation of the riverscapes</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6309c7e80680e07bc48jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>When this period of urban development first began in the 1980s, sewer and stormwater lines were directed to the Bagmati River intentionally with the idea that all pollutants would be washed away. Although the Bagmati naturally experiences wide fluctuations in flow rates because it is a seasonal, monsoon-fed river, now regardless of the season, the dilution capacity of the river is so low, and the level of contamination is so great, that the flow is predominately wastewater. In many places in Kathmandu Valley, the river is considered dead, meaning it can no longer support biodiversity. Many say that with the death of the Bagmati, the Bagmati Civilisation has also been lost.Despite the biological and spiritual death of the Bagmati and its tributaries, the rivers have become points of focus for infrastructure development in the name of modernisation. Currently, the construction of walled river corridors, managed by the Kathmandu Valley Development Authority (KVDA), is used as the primary intervention to address <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/deep-water,3883" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flooding in the urban core</a>. These corridors are also meant to help improve the flow of traffic and to reduce congestion in other parts of the city.Now almost every stream and river in the valley has been straightened and confined by concrete walls, the widths of which are set as per the 20-year flood provisions. But due to changing monsoon rainfall patterns and the concretisation of the valley, 20-year floods are occurring every five years or less.The riverbeds have also long since been depleted of sand, mined for concrete to fuel the construction boom of the metropolis. Now that the rivers contain few natural resources, some have gone as far as to advocate that they are covered completely in concrete. In some places, they already have been.***<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6339c7e80680e07bc49jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Shiv Kumar Basnet, the Executive Director of the Water Resource, Research, and Development Center at the Ministry of Energy, Water Resources and Irrigation says that encroachment on the rivers and settlement in the rivers’ right-of-way has made it so that normal flooding events now cause property damage and seem even more devastating.“Constraining the rivers is like putting a bird in a cage,” Basnet says. He thinks that from an ecological standpoint, as well as when considering what is best for urban development, the rivers ought to flow freely.Many agree with him, including <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Hutaram-Baidya-passes-away-at-93,994">the late Huta Ram Baidya</a>, a prominent social activist who spoke extensively on the need to save the Bagmati to save its civilisation. Baidya used to say: “The river is our nature, we should never destroy with nature, but live side by side with it. Instead of controlling its rivers, Kathmandu must work to conserve them.”When Huta Ram Baidya looked out across the Bagmati from his home near its banks at Thapathali, he wondered about one thing: “Can modernisation exist without culture?” For truly sustainable development of cities such as Kathmandu, the centuries-old cultural rites and rituals associated with the rivers, which incorporate knowledge of both spiritual beliefs and sustainable land-use practices accumulated over thousands of years, must be preserved to help the city grow in harmony with natural ecological systems.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109151116/636bb6369c7e80680e07bc4ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rajani Maharjan is an environmental anthropologist affiliated with the Small Earth Nepal (SEN), an environmental research group.Madison Wrobley is a 2019-2020 Fulbright-National Geographic Storytelling Fellow who studies water insecurity, primarily in Kathmandu Valley, and is now based in Colorado.

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How the Bagmati Civilisation is becoming uncivilised

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70569c7e80680e060072jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2088" height="1474"/><figcaption>Aerial view of Baudha</figcaption></figure>Swiss geologist <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2692#.VRzIePmUdQ4" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Toni Hagen</a> first came to Nepal in 1950, crisscrossed the mountains and plains on foot to find out the kind of rocks the country was made of. His detailed stratigraphic cross sections of Nepal for the first time gave us an idea of what lay beneath our feet.Along the way he also took thousands of photographs and film which have been carefully archived by his family in Switzerland. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2692#.XhlEIy2Q0Wo" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Toni Hagen died in 2003</a>, but the images represent a time capsule of the land and people, and show us the way we were.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70599c7e80680e060073jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1327"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Some of these photographs were included in the multiple editions of <a href="http://nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19173" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal</a>, the classic book about the country first published in 1962 which <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/a-serious-swiss-toni-hagen-nepal,888" target="_blank" rel="noopener">introduced Nepal to the world</a>, and through its Nepali language edition, to Nepalis themselves.Now, the Nepal Heritage Society has published another collection of Toni Hagen’s photographs of Kathmandu Valley, some of which were included in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/kathmandu-valley-then" target="_blank" rel="noopener">an exhibition at the Nepal Art Council</a> in 2015 on the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/tony-hagen-kathmandu-exhibition,3946" target="_blank" rel="noopener">centennial of Toni Hagen’s birth.</a><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b705c9c7e80680e060074jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="423"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70609c7e80680e060075jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="423">Vishnumati flowing clean and blue with Langtang peering over Shivapuri ridge. The Bagmati at Thapathali with a monsoon cumulus looming above Pulchoki.Toni Hagen: Photos of Kathmandu Valley 1950-1960 is edited by his physician daughter, Katrin, with extended captions by history professor Poonam Rajya Laxmi Rana. The book contains photographs that have not yet been published combined with accompanying historical text. This is an important work that shows us Kathmandu in aerial photography 70 years ago, neighbourhoods and street scenes that have long gone, but there are also plenty of reminders of how the inner city bahals and squares have not changed much in the six decades since the photographs were taken.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70639c7e80680e060076jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2638" height="1778"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>‘The photos and films by my father have immense value not only for the archives but for the studies of glaciers, as many of them have changed due to climate change,’ write Katrin Hagen in her preface. ‘The pictures of the old days are somehow a cultural heritage … there was no water supply, no sanitation facilities. But the water of the Bagmati was clean, there was no plastic waste.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70669c7e80680e060077jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1267"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Indeed, the book allows us to travel back in time to a Kathmandu where the Bagmati reflects the deep-blue monsoon sky, dark rain-heavy monsoon clouds draping the familiar outline of Pulchoki, the green paddy terraces  encircling towns with earthy brown sloping tile roofs. And, possibly because he was from Switzerland, almost all of Hagen’s photographs have as their backdrop snow mountains in the background.Buffaloes wallowing in Chapagain have Dorje Lakpa in the background. Oxen pull a plough with Ganesh Himal glistening on the horizon. Women in Not Danda carry firewood, with the entire panorama of the Central Himalaya on the horizon. In one photograph from Sanga on a clear day, you can see clear across Nepal to the Annapurnas.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b706a9c7e80680e060078jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1301"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Hagen chartered a six-seater Haviland biplane in Patna and flew it into Gauchar to take the first ever aerial photographs of Kathmandu Valley in 1950. One black-and-white photograph from above Hanuman Dhoka looking east towards Tundikhel shows just how much the city has changed and how much of it remains the same. There is Tundikhel with the khari tree in the middle, the temples of Kathmandu Darbar Square, Bhugol Park, the open space around Dharara and the two-storey buildings of Khichapokhari.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b706d9c7e80680e060079jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1347"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Ambica Shrestha, President of the Nepal Heritage Society that published the book, says in an introduction: ‘Sharing these photos reminds those who witnessed Kathmandu’s past, and those who did not have the good fortune to do so, to see and experience the scenes and atmosphere of the time.’Rana’s explanatory text provide the background to the images, giving he historical context. The words accompanying the rare aerial photograph of Singha Darbar, for instance, traces the history of neo-classical Rana architecture. There is one anecdote about Jung Bahadur being asked by a foreign visitor why his palace did not have an indoor toilet. His answer: “We do not go to the toilet, the toilet comes to us.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70709c7e80680e06007ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1318"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Toni Hagen: Photos of Kathmandu Valley 1950-1960Edited by Katrin Hagen, Text by Poonam Rajya Laxmi RanaNepal Heritage SocietyVajra Books, 2019176 pages     Rs4,000<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101116/636b70739c7e80680e06007bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="451">For more photographs from the book <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/kathmandu-valley-then" target="_blank" rel="noopener">click this link to the 2015 exhibition</a> of Toni Hagen’s photographs.

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Time capsule of Kathmandu

‘One early morning, we heard the ambassador’s wife cry out, “Ram, Ram, Ram!” A disaster has befallen Nepal!” She had heard on the radio that a fire had consumed Singha Durbar." This is not about the arson attack on 9 September 2025, but the one on 8 July, 1973. It started in the South Wing of the then single-largest building in all of Nepal. It took two days to bring the blaze under control, requiring the use of explosives to demolish one wing to protect the imposing western facade. As Bhekh Bahadur Thapa recalls in the English translation of his memoir A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy, he was then on leave from the Nepal government serving with the IDRC in Ottawa.&nbsp; He had already served as Nepal’s Finance Secretary at age 25, went on to be Finance Minister and Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank. He was already younger than some of the GenZ ministers in Nepal’s present RSP government. Thapa, now 89, was at the launch of the book in February which was attended by former diplomats and bureaucrats. After speeches by panelists, there was a question from the audience about how Thapa had managed to be the diplomat he was, managing Nepal’s international relations on the world stage.&nbsp; Writer and journalist Akhilesh Upadhyay, who was moderating the panel, responded by going into the section of the book where we see Thapa as an ambassador to the US, playing tennis with White House officials, cultivating a network of contacts to project the identity and welfare of Nepal, and making it possible for a state visit by King Birendra to Ronald Reagan’s America. The book is full of anecdotes that suggest Thapa was a clever and strategic diplomat, always calm and unruffled, easily making friends in high places with his maturity and engaging sense of humour. Thapa’s memoir is heavy on details about Nepal’s administrative history during the years he was active in public service, serving as minister and ambassador under three kings: Mahendra, Birendra and Gyanendra, and alongside five prime ministers.&nbsp; Aside from an insider look on how certain treaties, development deals and research projects in Nepal came into fruition, Thapa goes into great detail about his personal and professional relationships with the kings, ministers, ambassadors, foreign leaders and politicians.&nbsp; As a reader, one is struck by the level of detail around the events that unfolded in Nepal over the years during Thapa’s tenure. Was Thapa recording a journal over the years of the events and the conversations that transpired, or were they committed to his phenomenal memory? Either way, the reader gets a glimpse of Nepal’s recent history from the early days of the Panchayat, through the People’s Movement and the democracy period, the Maoist insurgency, Royal Palace massacre of 2001, and Gyanendra’s coup of 2005.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041204048_125dc8ae300a1e33124f394abe724d42727f83e067b0201d2008b58d60c459a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1584" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How to win friends and influence nations NT"> </figure>  Not enough is said about the political parties of the time whose presence led to the way Nepal’s multiparty democracy came to be shaped. The book keeps its focus on the administration and the key figures around it, mostly those in the Panchayat era. Towards the second half of the book, we do start to hear about political parties, but not in great depth. Another figure whose presence in the book is conspicuously less prominent is that of his wife, Rita Thapa — the person who seems to have rescued him every time financial quandary or family care became a challenge. Yet, we do not see her as a full person. Perhaps because of the personal tragedies in his life, the children are also barely mentioned.&nbsp; The book is therefore less personal and more technical. Throughout, we learn about Thapa’s thinking as he navigated the world of diplomacy to win him the trust of those who mattered. There are tips here for a new generation of Nepali officials and diplomats about how much commitment and focus is needed to be good at one’s job and serve the national interest. This book adds to tomes that have been written on Nepal’s fragile relationship with India. ‘India has always wished for Nepal to remain dependent on it,’ writes Thapa, who served as Nepal’s ambassador to India and later in the Eminent Persons Group &nbsp;on Indo-Nepal relations that has been allowed to languish. The book has several insights into the Indo-Nepal trysts with diplomacy and agency.&nbsp; China’s role is also recorded, viewed through conversations during a visit to Beijing, but all that was before Nepal’s neighbour to the north emerged as a world economic and military power. The book also has such sudden instances of quirkiness and humour. For instance, we see a young Thapa in America explaining to a government official why he would like to return to Nepal instead of settling down in the US. “Because, Nepal is beautiful,” he said. The text is immaculate and does not read much like a translation, credit for which clearly goes to the team that put the edition together: translator Prawin Adhikari, &nbsp;Anagha Neelakanthan and Bhekh Thapa’s daughter, Manjushree. As Nepal enters a new era of governance and diplomacy, A Life in Public Service: Nepal from Autocracy to Democracy should be essential reading for students of political science, economics and foreign affairs who can gain a fresh perspective on the country’s trajectory.&nbsp; There are dozens of forgotten state secrets recorded in the book, but the reader must also remember this is a story told from one person’s perspective and there may be others.&nbsp; So, what really made Thapa the diplomat he was? I met him in 2004 at the Kantipur TV studio when he was serving as king Gyanendra’s foreign minister. He was there for a studio interview, and I was just done with my English newscast.&nbsp; He surprised me at the door: “Pratibha! I’ve been reading your articles in The Kathmandu Post. You must keep writing.” I thanked him, glad to have been noticed for my work by a stranger. That was perhaps one of the things that set Thapa apart — he excelled at staying close to those in power, while also noticing those who were not.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260412040412_213e706136a038ec9f5e2b8c6d7f7c1e9ceed9479e22fe2884872ad7bd20955f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Book details"> </figure>

How to win friends and influence nations

This is the 91st 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. I have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

The nation’s daughter

Nepalis are insured but not covered

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

bagmati

How the Bagmati Civilisation is becoming uncivilised

Time capsule of Kathmandu

How to win friends and influence nations

The nation’s daughter

Nepalis are insured but not covered

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes