<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121152/636b94d39c7e80680e06f222jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>On 15 June, 24-year-old Rupa Sunar, a Dalit media person went to the house of Saraswti Pradhan in Kathmandu’s Babar Mahal with two friends. They discussed and agreed on the terms and conditions of a rental agreement. House-owner Pradhan apprised Sunar of the rules: that she should not make noise, should to be out late, and cooperate with her.At the end of the meeting, Pradhan asked Sunar about her caste. Upon learning of her <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/black-lives-matter-but-dalit-lives-dont/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">‘lower’ caste status</a>, she said that she would convey her decision after family consultation. Pradhan called Sunar’s friend an hour later, and told that she could not rent the room to a ‘lower’ caste person.Sunar phoned Pradhan to confirm. She recorded the conversation: “I cannot rent you the room. Our elderly mother lives with us. She cannot share the house with a lower caste. But please let me know if other friends need a room.’According to the 2011 Census, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/caste-aside/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dalits</a> make up of 14% of Nepal's population. Many ‘higher’ caste people still do not consume food and beverages touched by a Dalit persons. To maintain ritual purity, the ‘higher’ caste families do not let Dalits enter their houses. In 2001, one study identified over 205 forms of such discriminatory practices.The 1990 Constitution outlawed caste-based discrimination anduntouchability. But historically, most laws remain on paper only. Violations mostly go unpunished.In 2011, the Constituent Assembly enacted the Caste-Based Discrimination and Untouchability (Offense and Punishment) Act. The Act prohibits <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/caste-aside-dalits-battle-sitgma/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">caste-based discrimination</a> ‘in any public or private place.’For example, the act forbids preventing someone from entering a house or evicting them on the ground of caste or race. The act made caste-based discrimination a crime against the state. Hence, in the caste-based discrimination cases, the state becomes a party, which requires it to file the cases in court, investigate and defend them.In January 2021, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-elected-to-2nd-term-at-unhrc/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal was re-elected for a second term</a> on the United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC), an international body responsible for the promotion and protection of human rights around the world.But in Nepal last week, a sitting minister interfered with and obstructed a police investigation of a caste-based discrimination case. International human rights laws define caste-based discrimination as human rights violations.On 17 June, two days after being refused the flat, Sunar lodged a complaint against Pradhan at the Metropolitan Police Office, Singha Darbar, accusing her of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6427#.YNqh0S2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">caste-based discrimination</a>.The police initially denied registering the complaint. Despite laws criminalising it, the Police, government attorneys, and judges often do not recognise caste-based discrimination cases as an offence, and in fact dissuade people from filing such complaints.Only after the case attracted public attention did the police finally register Sunar’s complaint, and initiate an investigation. On 20 June, the Police arrested Pradhan, and put her in custody.The case soon took on an ethnic colour, with some making it out to be a Dalit vs Newa issue. Some Newa organisations released statements asking the police to punish Sunar for disrupting social harmony. Former senior government officer Bhim Upadhyaya accused Sunar of fomenting societal tension. Instead of standing up against caste discrimination, the Mayor of Madhyapur Thimi on Monday called for Sunar to be prosecuted.Sudha Tripathi, the former Tribhuvan University registrar, described Sunar as a Dalit ‘gangster’. Thousands of their social media followers shared these statements.All Sunar wanted was a room to live in, just like anyone else in Nepal. Why was that such a problem?As we know, the story did not end there. On 23 June, the Minister of Education, Science, and Technology Krishna Gopal Shrestha drove to the station in his official car, pressured the Police to release Pradhan and even posed for a photoshoot with her in front of media.Nepal’s national flag fluttered from his ministerial vehicle as he drove Pradhan home. Not only did Minister Shrestha have no authority to handle this case, he misused state authority and state resources.As the minister belonged to the same ethnic group as Pradhan, he abandoned his state responsibility and took a communal stance. Minister Shrestha’s triumphant pose with Pradhan ignited a firestorm of hatred against Dalits on social media, prompting users to vow never to rent rooms to Dalits.There have also been threats of violence. Dalit activists have received death threats for speaking out. Dalit leaders and rights activists have called on the government to act against Minister Shrestha, and create a conducive environment for fair trial. Dalits and non-Dalits have even demonstrated in the streets to protest the state inaction and minister’s unlawful action.However, Prime Minister K P Oli has been silent on the issue. On 24 June, he even assigned Minister Shrestha four additional portfolios. But his government has not done anything to assure the victims and the Dalit community a fair trial and protection of their lives and human rights.The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-caste-attack-turns-deadly/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">failure of state to assure the Dalit community of justice</a> has made them feel unprotected and vulnerable. They fear that in the future no law enforcement agency will register and try cases of caste-based discrimination. They also fear the possibility of retaliation by members of ‘higher’ castes.Nepal is a party to Universal Declaration on Human Rights, theInternational Convention on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (ICERD), and International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. The ICERD specifically prohibits any form of state engagement in practicing, sponsoring, defending, or supporting any forms of racial or descent-based discrimination.The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) is supposed to protect Nepali citizens from violations. However, after the government appointed the new NHRC members bypassing parliamentary hearing on 3 February, UN human rights experts have expressed concern about its independence. This is proven by its complacency about Minister Shrestha’s involvement in the Rupa Sunar case.The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16791#.YNqh2S2B2b8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Dalit community in Nepal</a> is looking to international human rights groups, including the United Nations, to question the government’s accountability. Maintaining silence and inaction when human rights are violated will only escalate tension. Inaction will not create an environment for world-wide respect to human rights necessary for peace and justice.Kunjani Pariyar Pyasi is a human rights lawyer. Binita Nepali is a graduate of International Relations and Diplomacy from TU. They are also the participants of Dalit Reader’s Writing Workshop.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121152/636b94d69c7e80680e06f223jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="89" height="103"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121152/636b94d79c7e80680e06f224jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="89" height="103">

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Nepal’s caste struggle

<figure><img width="640" height="429" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022112916110/63861eb39c7e80680e0ccddejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Mildred and Richard Loving were sentenced to jail for their inter-ethnic marriage. They took the case to the Supreme Court, and won on 12 June, 1967.</figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022112916110/63861eb69c7e80680e0ccddfjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Families of Nabaraj BK and his missing friends.</figcaption></figure>On 23 May, Nabaraj BK of Jajarkot and five friends were reportedly killed because he had fallen in love with a young woman from a different caste, and they wanted to marry.He went to her village in West Rukum with a group of friends to bring her back, at her request, to his village to start their lives together.But their dreams met a violent end. A group of 50-60 men from her village attacked Nabaraj and friends. The next day, Nabaraj and his friend Tikaram Sunar, both Dalits, were found dead. The bodies of four others were pulled from the river -- Ganesh Budha, Lokendra Sunar, Ganesh Budha, and Govinda Shahi.It was a heartbreaking event. Caste hatred killing love.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-caste-attack-turns-deadly/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal caste attack turns deadly</a>, Prabir DadelMy own country, the United States, has a terrible, tragic history of discrimination and violence in opposition to inter-ethnic love.For many years, laws prohibited relationships between whites and blacks (or other groups). Today, 12 June is the 53rd anniversary of Loving v. Virginia, the landmark 1967 US Supreme Court case decision that eliminated these laws. <img width="640" height="190" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022112916110/63861eb99c7e80680e0ccde0jpeg.jpg" alt="">The case gets its name from the marriage of Mildred and Richard Loving. The 12 June anniversary is known as ‘Loving Day’.Mildred and Richard Loving had grown up near each other in a small community in the hills of Virginia, the state just south of Washington DC. One of America's original 13 states, Virginia had a tobacco economy based on slave labor from 1620s to the American Civil War in the 1860s. Mildred's family had lived in the area for generations, as had his. Mildred and Richard fell in love and got married in June 1958. They moved in with her family while Richard, a carpenter, built them a new house. One night five weeks after the wedding, police barged into their bedroom at 2 am to arrest them. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/african-americans-in-cold-war-nepal/" target="_blank" style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" rel="noopener noreferrer">African-Americans in Cold War Nepal</a>, Tom Robertson They were sentenced to a year in prison, or to leave the state for 25 years. Their supposed crime was violating a Virginia law prohibiting interracial marriages. Richard Loving was white. Mildred Jeter was mixed African American and Native American. To stay together, they decided to move to Washington, DC. Maryland created the first law against interracial marriage three centuries earlier, in 1661, and Virginia followed suit the next year. At the time, European settlement was only a few decades old, and the use of enslaved African people for arduous tobacco work was growing. Slavery lasted another 200 years, until the American Civil War in the 1860s. White slaveowners sometimes had sexual relations with black slaves. Rape was common. By law, children from these relations were considered black, not white or mixed, and became slaves. The American Civil War ended slavery in 1865, but afterwards white supremacists created 'segregation' laws to keep whites and blacks apart that would last for another century. Courtrooms, railroads, buses, and theaters had separate sections for whites and blacks. White and black children studied at different schools. Facilities for black Americans were far inferior to those for whites. Segregation was enforced by police, laws, and courts, but also by violence. Over the years, over 3,000 black Americans were killed in lynchings -- killings outside the legal system -- to enforce this unjust, hierarchical system. Nothing was more carefully policed than marriage separation. The Civil Rights freedom protests of the 1950s and 1960s ended most segregation laws. The last to fall were laws prohibiting mixed race marriage in 15 of the southern states, including Virginia. It was the case started by the Lovings that brought it down. After their arrest, Mildred and Richard Loving moved to Washington DC so they could avoid jail time, and be together. But they missed the place where they grew up, the hills of Virginia, and their families there. They filed a lawsuit. At the time, an elderly Virginia judge used religion to justify the law preventing interracial marriage. "Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents," he wrote. "The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix." The judge's argument used religion to deny love. It also shows a common strategy of calling one's own inaccurate and flawed ideas 'natural'. But across the world, racial groups had been intermingling and intermarrying for millennia. It was natural. Richard Loving boiled down his case to very straightforward logic. “Tell the court,” he instructed his lawyer, “I love my wife, and it is just unfair that I can’t live with her in Virginia.” In 1967, nine years after their wedding, the US Supreme Court decided 9-0 in favor of Mildred and Richard Loving. The Lovings and their three children moved back to their families in their beloved Virginia. In the US today, over 15% of marriages are between people of different racial groups. In 1990, even 25 years after the Loving v. Virginia decision, 63% of white and other non-black adults said they would opposed a close relative marrying a black person. Today only 14% say this. On Loving Day 2007, Mildred Loving shared these touching words: “My generation was bitterly divided over something that should have been so clear and right. The majority believed that what the judge said, that it was God's plan to keep people apart...But I have lived long enough now to see big changes. The older generation's fears and prejudices have given way, and today's young people realise that if someone loves someone they have a right to marry. Not a day goes by that I don't think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the 'wrong kind of person' for me to marry.” Mildred and Richard's granddaughter summarised the lesson that her grandparents taught the world: “If it’s genuine love, colour doesn’t matter.” Let's hope that today, on Loving Day, and every day, that message of love spreads from the beautiful hills of Virginia to the beautiful mountains of Nepal.

Love's victory over racial hatred

Muna Gurung

Pancha Kumari Pariyar: Still She Rises

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V1x6nUgo9g&amp;feature=youtu.beEver since Nepal’s founding king <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6592#.XVUiCuMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Prithvi Narayan Shah</a> described the nation state he forged as a garden of 4 castes and 36 ethnicities, besides considering themselves ‘Nepali’ most people have also kept a distinct sense of sub-national identity.The Muluki Ain of 1854 defined this social hierarchy, and the 2011 <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8616#.XVUpheMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">census</a> lists all 125 castes and ethnic groups, forming the basis on which the new <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/09/20/peoples-constitution/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Constitution</a> defines Nepal’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15798#.XVUpPuMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">reservation policies</a> for the civil service, government and Parliament. But with an increase in inter-ethnic marriages producing an even more multicultural society, there may be a need to redefine ethnicity as the country becomes even more diverse.“Growing up, my most cherished memories are visiting my grandparents from both sides of my family and being exposed to diverse beliefs, traditions and food,” recalls Rubeena Mahato, who has a Maithili father and Newar mother. “The two ethnic backgrounds merged seamlessly without one undermining the other.”But despite embracing her dual heritage and being raised in a household with no concept of caste hierarchy or religious superiority, and taught to respect people regardless of their ethnicity, Mahato says society kept her in a box as she grew up. (See box story below)Mahato recalls that the first question she was asked at school was about her caste and ethnicity. As children who didn’t know better, her classmates made assumptions based on what they had seen their parents do. Mahato was seen only as a Madhesi, leading her to feel self-doubt over her Newar identity. While she embraced her duality, her peers and teachers did not.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53aa9c7e80680e052362jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>INTERETHNIC LOVE: Prime Minister KP Oli presents rhododendron blossoms to his wife Radhika Shakya on 21 February during Kalu Pande Diwas in Dahachok. Pic: Krishna Paudel</figcaption></figure>The caste and ethnic categorisation in the Muluki Ain and a rigid perception of identity pose obstacles for Nepalis who want to adopt their hybrid identities. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16478#.XVUm4uMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Seira Tamang</a> is a political scientist whose research focuses on social exclusion. She says, “Regardless of how people might choose their ethnic and other identities, society at large will see and treat them according to the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7872#.XVUqB-MzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">singular homogenised identity and strata of the Muluki Ain.”</a>Historian <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11936#.XVUmpeMzbIV" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Pratyoush Onta</a> of Martin Chautari says Nepalis have three types of responses to multiethnic identities: embracing their hybrid ethnic identity, reasserting one ethnic identity while rejecting the other, or identifying themselves only as Nepali. Keeping a single ethnic identity as long as it abides by the ongoing patrilineal system aligns with the current perception of ethnic identity, but there is social and political confusion for many like Mahato who want to preserve their hybrid ethnic identity.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13361#.XVUnpOMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mahendra Lawoti</a>, professor of political science at Western Michigan University, who has written extensively on Nepal’s reservation policies, says, “Ethnic identity is not just shaped by the individual’s perception of themselves, but also society’s recognition of them. Ethnic identity, to some extent, is a social construct.”Indeed, the ethnicity of a person in Nepal is still largely determined by the father’s lineage. But this can lead to even more confusion over the freedom of women to change their ethnic identity and surname with marriage and the matter of reservation policies.Besides a mandatory quota for women in government and civil service, there is also <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4140#.XVUosOMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">affirmative action</a> for indigenous people, Dalits and other ethnicities. But as marriages create more <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12561#.XVUoO-MzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">multiethnic identities</a> and a weaker attachment to a single ethnicity, the future of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15753#.XVUn0OMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">reservation policy</a> comes into question.“The reservation policy should be reflective of society and should respond to changes in the social dynamic,” says Lawoti. “The state does not recognise multiethnic individuals, but it should respond to this new reality.”However, whether offspring of inter-ethnic marriages will seek to assert their hybrid identity, or take up one or other of their parental identity is also uncertain. Some may prefer to assume the identity of their Dalit or indigenous parent rather than their 'higher caste' parent in order to benefit from reservation.Lawoti and Onta both agree that policies should be more flexible to accommodate multiethnic individuals. different caste or ethnicity. Women should be allowed to either keep their birth surname or change it to their husband’s, but if they are allowed to change when it fits their immediate purpose, the system perpetuates unfairness.“Women should be allowed to change their ethnic identity when they get married but not to simply abuse the system,’’ says Lawoti. In Nepal’s patriarchal society, even with inter-ethnic marriages there is a tendency for wives to adopt the customs, traditions and culture of her husband’s ethnicity, forgoing her own. Children are raised with the culture of their father’s ethnicity. When doing so, the ethnic background of women erodes and hybrid identities are less likely to be formed.However, with greater geographical mobility, the spread of education, and people moving out of historical ethnic enclaves, there are more possibilities of mixed ethnicities. Politician Tripple P Gurung and journalist Ramyata Limbu raise their children with a fusion of ethnic customs and practices. Both Gurung and Limbu traditions are preserved flexibly within the home – a trend that many families with inter-ethnic marriages now practice.Basantapur of Sunsari district in eastern Nepal is perhaps one of the most multicultural, multilingual and multiethnic villages in Nepal. Anthropologist Chudamani Basnet researched inter-marriage in the town and found that although <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19885#.XVUo3eMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Janjatis</a> have been intermarrying people from higher caste groups, there were none of the expected cultural conflicts.A Limbu woman married to a Giri man found that as they had migrated away from their families and were more economically independent, they faced very little inter-ethnic conflicts.However, not all such marriages are accepted. 'Higher caste' people who have married Dalits, for instance, are <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15947#.XVUuxuMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">routinely ostracised</a> by their own community. Sometimes couples who have crossed caste or ethnic lines to elope have been publicly taunted, beaten, or driven out of their villages.Basnet attributes much of the opposition to the loss of cultural heritage and language. “Inter-marriage was made possible by a common language, Nepali, which has facilitated interaction between people of different ethnic groups, but at the cost of their mother tongues,” he adds.As offspring of inter-ethnic marriages create and practice their own fusion customs, some of the distinct cultural and linguistic attributes of the original ethnic groups tend to erode. The future of hybrid identities with the current social and political state of Nepal is therefore uncertain, even though Prime Minister KP Oli and his wife Radhika Shakya, and other senior politicians, themselves have married across ethnicities.Inter-ethnic marriages in Nepal came in waves. During the Panchayat, many underground Communist leaders, like KP Oli, developed relationships with young women in the households where they rented rooms, or in the neighbourhoods of inner city Patan and Kathmandu. During the National Development Service, college graduates were mandatorily required to serve a year in rural areas, and got married to locals. The third wave was during the conflict, when Maoist guerrillas could get married with the party's consent. Today, education, mobility and connectivity have unleashed a new wave of inter ethnic marriages.Uncertainty is also perpetuated by the lack of data regarding inter-ethnic marriages. The Department of National ID and Civil Registration refused this paper’s repeated requests to release data of inter-ethnic marriages or to comment on the trend, citing issues of privacy and discrimination.Regardless, Nepal is celebrated as a multicultural, multilingual and multiethnic nation, characteristics that have been embedded in the Constitution. But while the country as a whole may have a rich ethnic diversity, it is also becoming a new melting pot.Read Also:<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11202#.XVUid-MzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Happily ever after,</a> Shraddha Basnya<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15581#.XVUideMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Caste no bar,</a> Kong Yen Lin<a href="Nepal,%20an%20emerging%20rainbow%20nation" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal, an emerging rainbow nation,</a> Rubeena Mahato<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15775#.XVUjneMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's mutli-ethnic future,</a> Shyam Shrestha<h2>Tharu-Tamang</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53ad9c7e80680e052363jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1050"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Suksari Chaudhary was in her early 20s and working in a garment factory in Kathmandu Valley when she met Chhewan Lama. Amidst the hum of sewing machines and heaps of fabric scraps, the two fell in love.They went their separate ways, but five years later they both found jobs in a school in Lalitpur and got married soon after. Although she is Tharu and he is Tamang, the wedding ceremony reflected neither culture but was performed using Brahmin rituals.“I think it was easier for us to have an inter-ethnic marriage because both our parents were no longer with us and our other relatives also had inter-ethnic marriages,” says Chaudhary. Lama’s parents and Chaudhary’s father had passed away years before they met.The only time they faced any difficulty over their mixed marriage was when they returned to Lama’s home in Kavre for the first time after getting married. She recalls, “At first, his extended families didn’t really understand why he had married a Tharu.” But when Chaudhary was asked to sit in a traditional Tamang puja by Lama’s family, she felt welcomed and accepted. It was rare for a conservative family to allow a person from another ethnic background to worship with them.A year after their marriage, Lama and Chaudhary had a daughter, who grew up in a multiethnic household. She is now 22, and Chaudhary regrets not teaching her daughter Tharu customs, just as she herself never had the chance to learn about her heritage. As the only Tharu family in a predominantly Brahmin/Chhetri area, as a girl she was only familiar with the customs and practices of the ‘higher caste’ community.Today, the family has added other rituals to their celebrations. For example, during Dasain, they put white tika on each other in the evening as per Tamang custom. Lama says, “When we were raising our daughter, we neither raised her strictly as a Tharu nor a Tamang. She is a combination of both and a product of an interlaced family.”<h2>Maithil-Newar</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53b09c7e80680e052364jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="843">Growing up in a Maithil-Newar household, Rubeena Mahato embraced her colourful and multicultural heritage, celebrating both Rakshya bandhan and Bhaitika with Newari mandaps and eating Mithila dishes like thekuwa, khajuriya and daal puri during Chath and delicious yomaris during Newar Lapte bhoye bhoj. “My dual heritage merged seamlessly and they always have,” says Mahato.From a young age, Mahato was taught to respect everyone regardless of their ethnic or caste background. But she did not always receive the same treatment from others, and witnessed others get harassed because of their heritage.“Because of my upbringing, it was inconceivable for me to engage in ‘othering’ and exclusion, or to suffer it. I remember arguing with my friends over it and refusing to participate. Over the years, there have been multiple occasions where I have had to lecture perfectly educated young people for using caste slurs. Most are embarrassed, some are quite taken aback and some refuse to introspect. But I know that we cannot let such behaviour go unchallenged.”Now living in the US with her husband, Mahato remembers: “Our home is a riot of colours, tastes and flavours from our various heritages. What could be more Nepali than that?”

Nepal is turning into a nation of hybrid identities

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/636937829c7e80680e03fe3ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>Bikram Rai</figcaption></figure>The struggle with kerosene stoves, the relief when you move up to propane. The steady stream of uninvited guests from remote parts of the country, who live for months as they try to get a foothold in the capital. The graduation from outdoor squatting toilets to indoor commodes.Shradha Ghale’s novel The Wayward Daughter portrays a world familiar to many first generation migrants into Kathmandu, and much of it is autobiographical.“I took a lot of material from the experiences of my near and dear ones, however, none of the characters exist in real life as they do in the book,” she says.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=18384&amp;action=elementor" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Manisha Koirala’s new life</a>, Rupa Joshi The Wayward Daughter offers aspects of life in a Janjati family that make it unique from most other Nepali writings in English. The Tamule family celebrates Udhauli and Ubhauli, takes offerings of millet liquor, dried fish and a rupee coin for a marriage proposal. Ghale admits she knew her story had to be about a family from an indigenous community, because she herself had read very few such stories.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/636937859c7e80680e03fe3fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="174"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/636937869c7e80680e03fe40jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="640"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A smart Tamule child is complimented with “as clever as a Bahun’s son”. Some Tamules adopt Brahmin gods and traditions, bow down to priests, and look down upon other communities. The looking down is mutual because other communities also despise the “chimse bahun.” These nuggets from Ghale’s book are revelations even for Nepalis, and a reminder to readers about just how diverse Nepal is.The greatest strength of Ghale’s debut novel is this no-nonsense, lean, almost journalistic prose.But who exactly are the Tamule? Ghale gives an enigmatic smile to reveal that she made up the Tamule: “Creating an entirely new indigenous community gave me the freedom to explore my ideas, free of established stereotypes about particular communities.”The Wayward Daughter succeeds in her deliberate attempt to portray a rich cross-section of Nepali society, showing how caste, class, and gender influence everyday life in Kathmandu. The story is about growing up in a multifarious, almost dystopian world that Nepal has become. Youngsters abandon traditions for modernity, as they prepare to go abroad for higher studies.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=18456&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A hostage situation</a>, Prakriti KandelAt the Rhododendron High School that the protagonist Sumnima attends, students are fined for speaking in Nepali. Some readers will remember ‘boarding’ schools in the 80s, the rise of FM radios and the craze for celebrity RJs that Sumnima adores. She confesses (only to herself) that she eats dal-bhat twice every day, and yet in friends’ auto books she writes that her favourite food is ‘pizza’. Youngsters these days do the same: leave behind rustic roots, pretend they were never there, and head out for sophisticated western horizons.The meandering story does not necessarily have a plot, even though every little sub-plot about the extended Tamule family offers fascinating nuggets of life. Ghale confesses that she did not start out with a clear plot in mind, but accumulated sections she wrote at different times, and had to cut out many parts that did not fit.The stories are a continuation of the bits of fiction Ghale penned in her college days, imagining herself to be in league with great writers. “I loved Gustave Flaubert and Virginia Woolf, I did not just want to write like them, but sound as good as them. Writing this book became an exercise in humility for me, when I realised my own limitations. Every day you wonder where your work is going, if you will ever finish it, and if it will ever be any good,” says Ghale.Hopefully, acclaim for her first novel will motivate Ghale to write a sequel, which many have already advised her to do. The novel ends just when things are getting more interesting, with the country about to plunge into a civil war. Ghale ends it there with a riveting epilogue that leaves you yearning for more.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/shared-stories-shattered-dreams/" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Shared stories, shattered dreams</a>, Sonia Awalehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqipZqqPFuU&amp;t=4s

Shradha Ghale, the prodigal daughter

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922659c7e80680e03a127jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/>After staging plays by foreign writers, Mandala Theatre has forayed into an original Nepali folktale, with a sharp contemporary socio-political message.Jalini is a short story in Dhruba Satya Pariyar’s book Kairan that was shortlisted for this year’s Madan Puraskar, and adapted by the author and director Dayahang Rai into a play that is a satire with a message of inclusion.An arrogant king wants to stand out in history, and is told he will do so only if his daughter makes a sketch of him. He imprisons her in a palace so that she can see no other man.The folktale of Rapunzel springs to mind. Even the Buddha was confined to his palace so that he could not see the sufferings of the world. But, as expected, the unseen holds the most fascination, which is what happens to Jalini.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19506#.W6Io_s4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Highway</a>, Sophia Pande<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Degree-Maila-review,963" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Degree Maila</a>, Sunir Pandey<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/636922699c7e80680e03a128jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="939"><figcaption>Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Jalini's story attempts to trace how the imprisonment of women in homes leads to their subjugation, and secondary place in society. It is not just Jalini's body that is confined, but her heart and mind as well. And this just to satisfy the whims of a king unhinged with power. Jalini is not just a princess but a symbol of womanhood, and you will have to go watch the play if you want to find out if she finally breaks out of her confinement.The stage is taken up by a powerfully choreographed movement of the kingdom’s good citizens labouring to construct a palace for Jalini. A woman named Jaljala (so named perhaps to remind us of the mountain in Rukum that became a symbol of the Maoist revolution) speaks out boldly against tyranny, and the plot thickens as Jalini is brought to confront a world she had never seen.The king's attempts to force the people to do his bidding as he ignores their hardships is reminiscent of despotic regimes today. He takes pride in how he has decorated the walls of his palace with pictures of his long-suffering subjects, and thinks that passes for doing something to uplift them. This is obviously a satire on the tokenism and lips service to inclusion in present day Nepal.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/taandro-film-review,4036" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tandro</a>, Rabin Giri<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-the-men-and-women-merely-players/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">All the men and women merely players</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161120/6369226c9c7e80680e03a129jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The play entertains even as it subtly draws the audience to think about caste and gender discrimination. The music changes from dramatic to romantic and fantastic depending on the scenes, adding an audio element to the stagecraft. There are loose ends: some mysteries are not solved even till the end, and there is a distracting scene of a prime minister who does not have a major role in the plot.Bijay Baral as the king deserves special mention for his perfect comic timing. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Film-funny-man,1349" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dayahang Rai</a>, the film actor who began his career in theatre has come back a full circle to the stage. He tries not to make this  love story with a political message too preachy or predictable, and he largely succeeds in giving Pariyar’s fairy tale a hopeful and optimistic tint in a darkly cynical world.5:30 PM everyday except MondayMandala Theater, Until Oct 7Phone: 01-6924269

Once upon a time

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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