<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecd49c7e80680e09ad8bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Suka Bahadur Tamang, 60 (above) has spent half his life chopping logs that arrive at the Timber Corporation of Nepal's depot near the Pashupati temple which supplies wood for the traditional funeral pyres.From early morning to late at night, Tamang is ready with his trusty axe to supply the wood needed for funeral pyres.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecd79c7e80680e09ad8cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Day in and day out, in the fenced compound next to the country’s only electric crematorium, the seven staff work round the clock to ensure that the demand for wood is met. But Suka Bahadur is the only one who chops the wood by hand, the others use electric saws."If the crematorium runs out of wood at midnight, we wake up and start chopping wood," he says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecd99c7e80680e09ad8djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Even in normal times, the depot operates 24 hours to ensure a constant supply of wood for the cremation of bodies at the ghat on the banks of the holy Bagmati river. But never in his 30 years here has he seen a crisis like this. Demand for wood for the funeral pyres has risen so much that he is over-worked."My workload has increased a lot and I am chopping much more wood than I used to," says Tamang whose chopped logs now mostly go to the temporary crematory that has been set up in the open space and banks of Bagmati River for Covid-19 victims.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecdc9c7e80680e09ad8ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecdf9c7e80680e09ad8fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cece19c7e80680e09ad90jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cece49c7e80680e09ad91jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">One of the incinerators at the electric crematorium had to go for repairs, and the other which can only handle 16 funerals a day even if it works non-stop, could not cope with the demand. On Wednesday alone Nepal recorded 168 deaths with 9,238 new infections, with 3,924 in Kathmandu Valley alone.Before the pandemic, the depot supplied an average of 7,000kg of wood to the crematory every week. In the past ten days, it has dispatched over 100,000kg of after receiving orders from Pashupati Area Development Trust.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cece79c7e80680e09ad92jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The corporation normally sources the logs from government owned forests around Nepal. But since the pandemic hit, it has started buying logs from the private sector as well."We did not need to supply logs to the electric crematorium before. But now we have to send it there as well," explains Drona Prasad Pokharel, Depot Chief at Pashupati.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cece99c7e80680e09ad93jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecec9c7e80680e09ad94jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The electric crematorium in Pashupati has been set aside for Covid-19 patients, with the Nepal Army handling the bodies. And while it does not require logs to burn the bodies, the temporary platforms set up in the open space inside its compound as well as the banks of Bagmati River to cremate the bodies require nearly 300kg of logs for each pyre.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecee9c7e80680e09ad95jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecf19c7e80680e09ad96jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The Trust has set up 35 new pyres inside the electric crematorium compound and 16 along the banks of Bagmati for Covid victims.Says Pokhrel: "Every year, we supply around 2.5 million kg of wood for Pashupati. This year the volume will be far in excess because of the pandemic deaths.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110131120/636cecf39c7e80680e09ad97jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">

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Adding fuel to the funeral pyres

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84b69c7e80680e0677aejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Suka Bahadur Tamang, 60 (above) has spent half his life chopping logs that arrive at the Timber Corporation of Nepal's depot near the Pashupati temple which supplies wood for the traditional funeral pyres.From early morning to late at night, Tamang is ready with his trusty axe to supply the wood needed for funeral pyres.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84b89c7e80680e0677afjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Day in and day out, in the fenced compound next to the country’s only electric crematorium, the seven staff work round the clock to ensure that the demand for wood is met. But Suka Bahadur is the only one who chops the wood by hand, the others use electric saws."If the crematorium runs out of wood at midnight, we wake up and start chopping wood," he says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84bb9c7e80680e0677b0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">Even in normal times, the depot operates 24 hours to ensure a constant supply of wood for the cremation of bodies at the ghat on the banks of the holy Bagmati river. But never in his 30 years here has he seen a crisis like this. Demand for wood for the funeral pyres has risen so much that he is over-worked."My workload has increased a lot and I am chopping much more wood than I used to," says Tamang whose chopped logs now mostly go to the temporary crematory that has been set up in the open space and banks of Bagmati River for Covid-19 victims.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84be9c7e80680e0677b1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84c09c7e80680e0677b2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84c29c7e80680e0677b3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84c59c7e80680e0677b4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">One of the incinerators at the electric crematorium had to go for repairs, and the other which can only handle 16 funerals a day even if it works non-stop, could not cope with the demand. On Wednesday alone Nepal recorded 168 deaths with 9,238 new infections, with 3,924 in Kathmandu Valley alone.Before the pandemic, the depot supplied an average of 7,000kg of wood to the crematory every week. In the past ten days, it has dispatched over 100,000kg of after receiving orders from Pashupati Area Development Trust.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84c89c7e80680e0677b5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The corporation normally sources the logs from government owned forests around Nepal. But since the pandemic hit, it has started buying logs from the private sector as well."We did not need to supply logs to the electric crematorium before. But now we have to send it there as well," explains Drona Prasad Pokharel, Depot Chief at Pashupati.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84ca9c7e80680e0677b6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84cc9c7e80680e0677b7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The electric crematorium in Pashupati has been set aside for Covid-19 patients, with the Nepal Army handling the bodies. And while it does not require logs to burn the bodies, the temporary platforms set up in the open space inside its compound as well as the banks of Bagmati River to cremate the bodies require nearly 300kg of logs for each pyre.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84cf9c7e80680e0677b8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84d19c7e80680e0677b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">The Trust has set up 35 new pyres inside the electric crematorium compound and 16 along the banks of Bagmati for Covid victims.Says Pokhrel: "Every year, we supply around 2.5 million kg of wood for Pashupati. This year the volume will be far in excess because of the pandemic deaths.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109111144/636b84d49c7e80680e0677bajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667">

Nepal’s new political wave has been described in many ways: a generational shift, a technocratic shift, a shift in ideas, and a shift in political behaviour. Young leaders now sit in Parliament, many with international education and policy experience.
But amid this excitement, a quieter truth risks getting lost: this political transformation is also the ascent of people who, until recently, were the grassroots themselves.
For the first time, many of the people now sitting in government are not distant elites. They are people I have marched with, argued with, worked with, and been inspired by for more than a decade.
They are people who once stood ankle‑deep in floodwaters, not in front of press conferences. As optimism rises around the new government, we must not forget that the climate crisis has not slowed down. 
The monsoon is at our doorstep again. And if the disasters from previous years taught us anything, it is that climate impacts do not wait for political transitions. And our mountains and rivers do not care who sits in Singha Darbar.
What is different this time is who holds power.
During the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/flood-of-despair" target="_blank">September 2024 floods in Kathmandu</a>, the first responders were not the state or development machinery. It was ordinary young people. A loosely formed WhatsApp network coordinated everything from dispatching mountain bikers to landslide‑stranded areas, to pooling relief supplies, to delivering materials to army bases for airlifting. These were citizens acting out of necessity, not mandate.
Many from that very network are now part of the government. As I have argued before in Nepali Times, top‑down climate responses in Nepal have always been too little, too late, and too disconnected from lived experience. The only proven path is bottom‑up, community-led adaptation where those who face the risks daily shape the solutions. 
International research backs this: community-based adaptation has been central to success stories from Bangladesh’s cyclone shelters to Vietnam’s mangrove restoration to the Philippines’ barangay disaster committees. The world has repeatedly learned that resilience grows from the ground up, not the top down.
RARE MOMENT
Nepal now has a rare political moment where people with lived experience of crisis sit in positions of authority. The real test is whether this lived experience becomes policy and immediate action.
The expectation should not be that these new leaders deliver because of their degrees. It should be because they remember where they come from and use their privilege to strengthen and fund local institutions, networks and people who kept this country functioning long before governments did.
The monsoon that starts in June will test the government’s commitment to governing from the bottom up. Will these new leaders govern the way they once volunteered — listening first, acting fast, improvising where needed, and involving those closest to the danger? Or will the weight of the state push them back toward the familiar comfort of top‑down plans and consultant reports?
The challenges are complex. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu" target="_blank">Climate change is driving displacement</a>, deepening poverty, and exacerbating gendered vulnerabilities. Climate adaptation, therefore, needs cross-sectoral solutions that understand how these issues intersect.
Long-term transformation is essential. Our major cities like Kathmandu desperately need a future where rivers are protected instead of mined, where an urban forest cools our heat‑trapping city, and where mobility focuses on sustainability, not just shiny EVs. Our mountain villages and terai lowlands deserve a community resilient to climate impacts, with livelihoods protected.
These require years of work. But immediate, life-saving measures cannot wait.
Will the government finally rein in the sand mining and quarrying upstream of the Rosi and Nakkhu Khola? Will someone sit down with the communities on the riverbanks and listen to the early warning signs they’ve learned through pain? Will climate adaptation be prioritised amidst political noise and competing crises?
Or will we find ourselves, yet again, mourning damage that could have been prevented? I have been inspired by many of the individuals now in government — they questioned old hierarchies, challenged worn‑out norms, and believed that things could be done differently. 
But while the faces in Parliament have changed, the bureaucracy has not. Development organisations and civil society groups have not. And those systems are slow: too slow for the speed at which our climate is changing.
So something has to give. And that shift must begin with remembering where this political movement came from: the grassroots. Those now in power must not forget the urgency they once carried in their bones. They cannot forget the feeling of wading into murky floodwater, holding a bag of rice over their heads. 
And it is our responsibility — mine <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/turning-green-policies-into-greenbacks" target="_blank">as a writer</a>, yours as a reader, and ours as citizens — to remind them. The real spark for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/measuring-climate-impact-on-culture-and-heritage" target="_blank">climate action</a> comes from personal stories of loss, fear, survival, and solidarity. And suddenly, those stories are no longer outside the halls of government. They are inside.
The question is no longer whether our leaders understand the stakes. They do. They lived it. The real question, as the skies grow heavier again, is this: What will we do with this moment?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/a-pre-monsoon-deja-vu">Rastra Raj Bhandari</a> is a co-founder and fellow at the Himalayan Water Project, where he leads the research on climate finance opportunities for the Himalaya. He contributes regularly to Nepali Times on climate change.

Soon, the monsoon

Sometimes, we need to take a step back to realise what a tectonic movement Nepali politics witnessed this month.
In a region and world ruled by elected authoritarians, Nepalis &nbsp;went to the ballot box freely to express a collective will for change.
These faces in this group photo of the RSP’s 180 freshly-minted MPs at the ballroom of the Royal Tulip Hotel on Wednesday is symbolic of what Nepal has come through.&nbsp;
The ship of state righted itself after the September Storm, installing an interim government that held an election within six months in which voters banished obsolete politicians and their parties into oblivion.
Nepalis, fed up with the inept kakistocracy of the past three decades, took the country into a post-ideological phase — replacing Marxists, Maoists and monarchists &nbsp;with a belief in a new governing culture that rewards delivery and accountability. And they have trusted the RSP to carry it through.
Nepal’s history has never been linear, it jerks ahead in lurches. The polity also tends to take one step forward and two steps back, so the public’s great expectations is tempered by a sense of cautious optimism and guarded pessimism.
This could be the great leap forward that Nepalis have waited for and deserve, but it could also be a Gramscian interregnum in which the old is dead and the new is not yet born. We will have to wait to see whether this transitional period will also see ‘morbid symptoms’.
As disruptor-in-chief, it was the Balendra Shah ‘wave’ or ‘craze’ that propelled the RSP to power. The former Kathmandu mayor needed a party platform, and the RSP’s tainted leader Rabi Lamichhane required a booster. Nepal's voters were looking for a saviour.
Personality-wise Shah and Lamichhane are poles apart: one is Type B and the other Type A. One is enigmatic, the other phlegmatic. But yin and yang do also tend to complement each other.&nbsp;
Kathmandu’s chattering class is already making self-fulfilling prophecies about the two falling out, and are fishing for hints that they already have. Shah’s absence from the RSP’s orientation this week was taken as a clue.&nbsp;
Closing the two-day tutorial on Wednesday, Lamichhane delivered a fiery 30-minute speech that laid out the RSP’s main agenda: to function differently from the old parties, serve the people, avoid middlemen, become true lawmakers without taking the law into their own hands.&nbsp;
“The old political parties contributed to history, we will build the future with a new political contract with citizens,” he said, trying to rise over past controversies and his abrasive rhetoric to sound statesmanlike.&nbsp;
GIVE AND TAKE
Lamichhane is said to be in touch with the reclusive Shah to announce a compact cabinet next week. Its composition will be an indication of how much give-and-take there was, and whether the criteria for selecting ministers is competence or loyalty.
Will RSP ministers behave like rulers or service providers? The new government will dive right into the economic fallout of the West Asia war with soaring fuel &nbsp;prices, inflation and uncertainty about remittance inflows.
On Thursday, Gagan Thapa resigned as NC chair, taking moral responsibility for the party’s election loss. The UML’s unrepentant K P Oli does not share the same sentiment about who is responsible for his own party’s historic downfall.&nbsp;
NCP chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal, who was luckier than his cross-party cohort, is now a comparative relic in a Parliament largely comprised of freshmen and sophomore lawmakers.
But the NC, UML and NCP still control provincial and most municipal governments. The old parties could try to make things difficult for the RSP at the centre, but it is also an opportunity for them to clean up their act ahead of local elections next year.&nbsp;
Another test for the RSP will be dealing with a heavily-politicised klepto-bureaucracy which has to frontend its policy decisions. &nbsp;

People’s power

This week, the RSP held a two-day closed orientation camp for its newly elected members of Parliament. The party has also decided to assign parliamentary and Cabinet roles to leaders only after the new MPs are sworn in on 28 March.&nbsp;
This means the new prime minister and his cabinet of 15 ministers are likely to be installed closer to the Nepali New Year, and the expectation is that it will also usher in a new era of governance and politics in Nepal.&nbsp;
Between now and then, there is much speculation regarding who will become new ministers and from which camp—Balendra Shah's or Rabi Lamichanne’s. Meanwhile, the final argument in the petition against the Rabi Lamichanne case revision is set for Thursday, with a verdict expected on the same day.
“In the past, parties did anything to form coalitions and to keep them from splitting ministries and appointing anyone they wanted to, even going against the spirit of the Constitution, but the RSP doesn’t need to partake in any such activities,” says political analyst Indra Adhikari.
Adhikari notes that governance failures in the past was often the result of coalition governments formed through political bargaining that meant the primary party often had to compromise on their agenda.&nbsp;
“But nothing is stopping the party from fulfilling its election manifesto,” she says. “And if they aren’t able to deliver, we know Nepalis are prone to protests, so another revolt is also a possibility.”
Journalist and author Mohan Mainali agrees that the everyday Parliamentary proceedings should go smoothly for new government because of their majority.&nbsp;
But there are questions as to what a near two-thirds majority allows the RSP to achieve in Parliament. Its 182 seats in the Lower House allows the party to enact and amend laws without hurdles and bypass Upper House’s request for Bill revisions. But the RSP has no presence in the National Assembly, and that means that its majority in the Lower House is not enough to amend the Constitution.&nbsp;
“The Constitution poses no obstacles for the RSP to work on improving governance, development and delivery,” says Mainali. &nbsp;“If they do show some performance, it will be easier for them to go into the next election and ask for a two-thirds majority to also amend the constitution,” he adds.
The last coalition government of the UML and Nepali Congress before the GenZ protests had been built upon a primary agreement to make amendments to the Constitution. So, depending on the nature of amendments, the RSP might find some support within the National Assembly at a time when some of the older parties, such as the Nepali Congress, have committed to supporting the new government as well as internal party reforms.
“What we need is a structural overhaul, from our laws and foreign policy to economy and security apparatus, and for this the RSP needs to champion collaboration and consultation for the sake of nation building,” says Indra Adhikari. “So it all comes down to the understanding and judgment of the RSP’s leadership. If they try to go at it alone, it will lead nowhere.”
To be sure, the provincial government could also clean up their act before the next local and provincial elections, which would help the older parties to regain some of their lost footing and rebuild trust.
As it stands, RSP lawmakers will also have to learn to work with each other. Mainali notes that the RSP not being bound by one clear ideology might lead to future problems, including the rumoured animosity between party president Rabi Lamichhane and prime minister-in-waiting Balendra Shah.
“Parties that came before the RSP had an ideology, whether they followed them or not, but the RSP is made of different kinds of people,” says Mainali. “If they are not motivated by a common goal of achieving something tangible in the next five years, it might be difficult for them to stay together.”
Adds Adhikari: “Balendra and Rabi don’t seem to be compatible. Rabi has already failed when it comes to the matters of governance, and Balendra won’t carry that burden. Additionally, there is a struggle between the two in terms of party hierarchy.”
Speaking at the closing of the two-day orientation, from which Balendra Shah was noticably absent, Rabi Lamichanne said that the RSP’s image as intolerant needs to be changed, and that the country is not heading towards totalitarianism but is in the hands of good, new people.
Regardless of the assurance, the general public has seen Balendra Shah and Lamichanne’s disposition in the last several years, and analysts are worried that their personalities and ambition might lead to an environment of increased intolerance.&nbsp;
As it stands in absence of a strong opposition, the responsibility falls on the media and the civil society to be the watchdog and play an effective check and balance role.&nbsp;
“Seeing how Balendra has ignored the media so far and Rabi has made inflammatory remarks in the past, they are probably more intolerant than the likes of Trump and Modi,” says Mainali. He notes that the party does not just have technical human resource and cyber army but a large number of dedicated supporters.&nbsp;
The media must thus continue to build trust by highlighting good work, educating the public on the importance of impartial journalism in democracy and debate any Bill purposed in Parliament, Mainali adds.&nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “The media should praise the government when they do well, motivate them, but it should also point out wrongdoings without fear, and provide recommendations to do better. Otherwise, absolute power corrupts absolutely, which we have seen happen happen in America with Trump and in India with Modi, where extremism has taken over and democracy has been curtailed.”

Balancing act

The sense of sight is front, centre, and everywhere else as hundreds of eyes follow visitors while they move from one painting to the next at Nikhil Bahadur Shakya’s ongoing exhibition at Siddhartha Art Gallery. Shakya has used blank canvases as well as partially-done thangka and paintings as a base for more than 50 works on display. The exhibit takes visitors beyond the physical world into a surreal spiritual realm. Shakya strips the human body down to muscle, tendon, networks of nerves, and skeleton. But all the while, eyes are a constant presence.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_dddbfedc57433dc528fbf032642abea4ee67e63875091b06a7804cecdc7716cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031708034_dddbfedc57433dc528fbf032642abea4ee67e63875091b06a7804cecdc7716cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Nikhil Bahadur Shakya"> <figcaption>Artist Nikhil Bahadur Shakya with a visitor.</figcaption> </figure>  The central theme is self-reflection and the journey from one’s outward to inward self, and the works offer a glimpse into the artist’s world of mindfulness.&nbsp; Shakya grew up watching his artisan grandfather design jewellery, which he says cultivated in him an interest for art. During the Covid-19 pandemic, confronted by the fragility of life and the stark reality of death, his art took an introspective turn. The paintings have splashes of neon yellow, pink, red, orange, green, and gold, and Shakya combines them with black and white to create the human body, sunflowers, geometrical shapes, and the cosmos — turning these motifs into elements of devotion and spirituality. In Wheel of Life, Shakya adds to an incomplete thangka, contrasting traditional Buddhist devotional imagery with contemporary mosaic art to create a demon holding on to a wheel with a yin and yang symbol.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_f2a8e10c73aa83a67e5de06a3f0acff9aa35c1cda278b36fed76ed03e71a7014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026031708034_f2a8e10c73aa83a67e5de06a3f0acff9aa35c1cda278b36fed76ed03e71a7014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nikhil Bahadur Shakya"> <figcaption>Wheel of Life (centre)</figcaption> </figure>  “I wanted to reflect the elements of life and the balance of good and bad in this painting,” explains Shakya. “I took a lot of time to complete this particular piece, but it felt as though my vision flowed out of the brush onto the canvas.” The neon colours used means that visitors can see his artwork under blue light as well, giving viewers a chance to look at a single artwork from two different perspectives. His Sunflower series draws from a field of blossoms, and the eyes stare back at visitors in an almost-hypnotic gaze. In An Ancestral Visit, Shakya goes transcendental to depict the connection of living beings to their forebears.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708038_0fbe465b3af872d04f699030ba093d97aad182221730aef535dbf7d059fb57cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026031708038_0fbe465b3af872d04f699030ba093d97aad182221730aef535dbf7d059fb57cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1431" loading="lazy" alt="sunflower painting"> </figure>  “In my father’s last days, he was unwell and often unable to eat, it left his body very frail,” explains Shakya. “An Ancestral Visit was inspired by a dream in which I saw my father as his former healthy self. That dream made me feel deeply connected to my ancestors.” In another one of his works titled Devotion, a woman prays to a Shivalinga against a background of red-and-white stripes, which was inspired by the tradition of women being at the forefront during religious and spiritual ceremonies.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708038_75e30a4fd339257fbc108e3a326f732fd33d25af0428add0d305b8b7824c558c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031708038_75e30a4fd339257fbc108e3a326f732fd33d25af0428add0d305b8b7824c558c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="devotion"> <figcaption>Devotion</figcaption> </figure>  In Sunyata, which shows a skeletal figure meditating as they are surrounded by flames, Shakya captures the chaos of the outside world with peace of the inner self. Shakya was compelled to create Sunyata when he saw a monk, his body thin and face gaunt, meditating peacefully. “Many viewers might find the painting frightening, but when they take it home, I think it will give them strength whenever they feel like they need it,” says Shakya. The exhibit also includes a gigantic painting of Masan Bhairav spread across two canvases, capturing the majesty of the original work housed at Banepa’s Chandeswori Temple. Shakya met the artist who painted it, and asked to reproduce it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031708034_0216eac587827b02982f5addbd67c6f852fd7f9f47b477267ea7430d5f862a9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026031708034_0216eac587827b02982f5addbd67c6f852fd7f9f47b477267ea7430d5f862a9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1030" loading="lazy" alt="art review"> </figure>  Geometric figures are another recurring motif on Shakya’s creations, which he says were inspired by mathematics textbooks from his school days. He says, “Art channels the strength of our minds and brings about change in our lives. My paintings reflect the fact that we are all made up of some madness, magic, and love.” Journey to a Visionary Artworld by Nikhil Bahadur Shakya Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Till 6 April 11AM-5PM

covid-in-nepal

Adding fuel to the funeral pyres

Adding fuel to the funeral pyres

Soon, the monsoon

People’s power

Balancing act

In the mind's eye