<img width="1500" height="825" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121148/636b939e9c7e80680e06f1b4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Last year was too unpleasant to remember, yet too hard to forget. I was expecting something totally normal. Nothing dangerous, nothing out of the blue. Just another ordinary year. However, 2020 turned out to be anything but ordinary.In December of 2019, as Covid-19 first appeared, starting to infect people in China, I was already disheartened. I had a premonition that things would not be the same for a very long time. By March, everything was locked down in Kathmandu, but I did believe that there was light at the end of the tunnel. This was just another pandemic. We have seen worse in Nepal, or so I thought. The lockdown was quite normal for me and life moved on as it did before. School was just different, and continued remotely since there was not much else anyone could do. Learning to play the piano months before the lockdown helped me pass the time. I spent my time writing some articles for The STEM Club at our school, and occasionally for my own blog. I was becoming quite accustomed to the fact that I was using my devices for a considerable amount of time, mainly for schoolwork. Otherwise, it was off-limits in our house prior to the lockdown.In December 2020, just when there was a glimmer of hope in Kathmandu that everything would be fine, I fell terribly sick. There was very little cough, I was breathing quite fine, but my temperature soared. This was not normal. We did multiple PCR tests, and all of them came back negative. I did not have Covid-19 after all. There was already this conviction in the general public that Covid-19 was a disease that afflicted the elderly, and the feeble. Those with pre-existing health conditions were supposed to be at higher risk, but young, healthier individuals usually fought back the virus. Nothing could go wrong, I assumed. I was dead wrong.Things did get worse. Over a few nights, my symptoms amplified. I was covered in rashes and a persistent abdominal pain. I was grey with fatigue on the day I reached hospital, but worse was yet to come. I stayed for a few check-ups which concluded that there was nothing life-threatening.However, in a matter of a few hours, my liver, heart and lungs were struggling to keep functioning. I had to be shifted to intensive care.In the next few days, I was spewing blood and gradually becoming weaker. It was not long until I was diagnosed with respiratory failure and myocarditis, a swelling of the heart muscle. Before I was put into the ventilator, I told my parents that I would be back soon, uncertain if I would ever see them again. Over the next few days, there was little hope of my survival. But at the nick of time, with the right treatment, I made it back to life after what seemed like eternity.I woke up after being asleep for four days, and was confused and baffled. I was bewildered when I found out that I had been lying there for days in a row with a pipe shoved down my throat and another, advanced to my heart. For the next few days, expressing myself became difficult, and when I tried to speak my voice oddly resembled that of Batman. I also had to learn to walk again, and I suddenly became detached and unhooked from reality. I still didn’t know what had happened to me. What was this odd disease?Later on, I found out that I had been diagnosed with Pediatric Multisystem Inflammatory Syndrome (PMIS), an extremely rare and dangerous disease discovered only in April 2020. However, my diagnosis came full circle, back to Covid-19, and my affliction was associated with the coronavirus. I seem to have been infected by the virus without any discernible symptoms at all, but it was my body’s response to Covid-19 that was more life-threatening than the virus itself. My immune response was the damaging factor, and once the doctors reversed this through other drugs, my condition finally improved. The odds of me getting this disease was highly unlikely, but apparently it can happen to anyone. The ordeal increased my respect and gratitude towards doctors, nurses and all other individuals working at the frontlines during the pandemic. It is indeed a daunting task to be a part of the fight against the global pandemic, and the work done by frontline workers and doctors are absolutely heroic. I am all right now, as I can walk and talk like before. But this experience also taught me about how uncertain things can be in life. Covid-19 has reminded me and many others how to cope with misfortune with courage, fortitude and perseverance. We always need to be grateful for what we have and make the best out of each memory. It has also taught me and many others about how the most unpredictable things can happen at any point in time. With this struggle, I have come to realise how precious life is, and the hurdles we need to overcome at its every step -- like water, dancing in the eddies and trickling down a stream no matter what comes in its way.Nirav Pandey is a 15-year-old student at Rato Bangala School in Kathmandu. A version of this essay was published in Time Magazine under the title <a href="https://time.com/6071300/kids-pandemic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">‘A Year Full of Emotions.' What Kids Learned From the COVID-19 Pandemic</a> <img width="90" height="109" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121148/636b93a19c7e80680e06f1b5jpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/had-covid-beware-of-long-covid/">Had Covid? Beware of Long Covid.</a>, Sajana Baral

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Life lesson from the pandemic

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef674b0ad905ca02efa6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="708"/><figcaption>105-year-old Chandra Kumari Joshi after beating the coronavirus. All photos: JOSHI FAMILY</figcaption></figure>Six weeks ago, the live-in nurse who takes care of my<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1608281673384000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEXylkJd6i9QhI2aGHlWa-nof2rmA"> 105-year-old grandmother-in-law (Muwa)</a> fell ill. She had developed cold-like symptoms and a headache, but not a fever. After she went back home for Tihar, Muwa developed a dry cough, but no fever.She began to take cough medicine, but we also applied every home remedy, steam treatments, turmeric water, honey, ginger, what have you. The fact that this could be indicative of Covid did not even cross my mind because I still somehow believed that having the coronavirus meant high fever. On the third day, Muwa’s cough got better.But then I developed a fever the day before भाइ टिका on 16 November and isolated immediately. I could only  get tested the day after Tihar, and the next day my husband developed a fever as well. My report came back positive 24 hours later, and all other seven members in our house -- including my grandmother-in-law--tested positive.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef6a4b0ad905ca02efa7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="440" height="681"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef6b4b0ad905ca02efa8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="418" height="681">The news of Muwa at her age testing positive was chilling. We had taken every possible precaution, ensured every measure to keep her safe. So the coming days were filled with worry.However, if we could look for a silver lining during this ordeal, it was that we did not need to follow strict measures of isolation, since everyone in our household had tested positive. We had been worrying about making different sleeping, cooking, and bathroom arrangements while we were waiting for all our results to come back, but that was not necessary anymore.So we shut the front gate, and sealed ourselves from the world. No one was allowed in or out. Our daughter and my sister-in-law had left enough essentials on our doorstep to last the duration of our isolation.Of the eight people in our home, my husband and I were the only ones who developed a fever, the others all had only mild symptoms. But while my fever peaked at 100°F, my husband, who is diabetic, had a high fever right from the start. When his oxygen level began to drop, he had to be admitted to hospital where he stayed for two weeks, completing a course of steroid and antibiotic treatments for secondary lung infection.It was an extremely stressful time back at home. On one hand, I worried about my husband alone in the hospital. On the other, I worried over what to tell his grandmother whenever she asked about her grandson.One day, Muwa said, “It’s so lonely here with just you and me.” Maybe she realised that it would just be the two of us in that family from now onwards. So when her grandson returned home after two weeks in hospital, she exclaimed in relief, “Finally, I can see you like this.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef6d4b0ad905ca02efa9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="952"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef704b0ad905ca02efaajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="544"><figcaption>Chandra Kumari Joshi sees her grandson, who recovered from Covid-19 after a hospital stay.</figcaption></figure>Muwa likes to watch the tv news every day, and when she asks, “What happened today?”. She wants us to know how many people died of Covid-19 that day, and we give her the figure.Muwa often asks when her great-grandchildren, who live abroad, are going to come back home. We told her that planes were not flying because the pandemic was spreading all over the world. But since the lockdown was lifted and flights resumed, she sits on the terrace and keenly watches the planes fly by.Some days she notices that there were very few planes. Other days, she muses, “Quite a lot of flights today.” The planes in the sky have become symbols of hope for her to be reunited with her family one day.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef734b0ad905ca02efabjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="438"><figcaption>Chandra Kumari Joshi meets her great-great granddaughter a month after testing positive for the coronavirus.</figcaption></figure>Muwa lost her only daughter-in-law, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1608281673384000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEXylkJd6i9QhI2aGHlWa-nof2rmA">Angurbaba Joshi, </a>during the pandemic. A month after her passing, she lost her sister Binda Shakya with whom she was very close. We broke the news of her passing two months later when Muwa began to ask why her sister had not been visiting.One day, as she was expressing her annoyance over Binda Didi’s continued absence, without thinking I said, “She can’t come anymore.” She immediately asked, “Why? Is she dead?” I answered, “Yes.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bef754b0ad905ca02efacjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1094">Muwa was inconsolable over the next three weeks. She has begun to forget a lot of things, but she has not forgotten that her sister has passed. In her grief, she has started to reconcile with her own mortality. “My time has come, this is it,” she said one day.The grief of her having outlived  all of her younger siblings, a son, a daughter-in-law, and other loved ones shows clearly on her face. Sometimes, she sees her own longevity as a  curse. “Why hasn’t god taken me away yet?” she asks.Muwa overcame ‘Karuna’ (what she calls the coronavirus, and a Sanskrit word that means ‘compassion’) better than any of us. The doctors have always told us that her lungs and her heart are as healthy as a young woman’s. Her immune system is strong, perhaps from the clean and fresh surroundings and food she grew up with. She has hardened, enduring  a great deal in life, as a child widow, and as an old woman who has seen many loved ones pass on.Muwa’s mental fortitude is a testament to the fact that she is still here with us. Her memories may be blurred, but she is not inactive and silent, and will never be.

How a 105-year-old beat the virus

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8749c7e80680e08785djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="708"/><figcaption>105-year-old Chandra Kumari Joshi after beating the coronavirus. All photos: JOSHI FAMILY</figcaption></figure>Six weeks ago, the live-in nurse who takes care of my<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1608281673384000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEXylkJd6i9QhI2aGHlWa-nof2rmA"> 105-year-old grandmother-in-law (Muwa)</a> fell ill. She had developed cold-like symptoms and a headache, but not a fever. After she went back home for Tihar, Muwa developed a dry cough, but no fever.She began to take cough medicine, but we also applied every home remedy, steam treatments, turmeric water, honey, ginger, what have you. The fact that this could be indicative of Covid did not even cross my mind because I still somehow believed that having the coronavirus meant high fever. On the third day, Muwa’s cough got better.But then I developed a fever the day before भाइ टिका on 16 November and isolated immediately. I could only  get tested the day after Tihar, and the next day my husband developed a fever as well. My report came back positive 24 hours later, and all other seven members in our house -- including my grandmother-in-law--tested positive.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8779c7e80680e08785ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="440" height="681"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8789c7e80680e08785fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="418" height="681">The news of Muwa at her age testing positive was chilling. We had taken every possible precaution, ensured every measure to keep her safe. So the coming days were filled with worry.However, if we could look for a silver lining during this ordeal, it was that we did not need to follow strict measures of isolation, since everyone in our household had tested positive. We had been worrying about making different sleeping, cooking, and bathroom arrangements while we were waiting for all our results to come back, but that was not necessary anymore.So we shut the front gate, and sealed ourselves from the world. No one was allowed in or out. Our daughter and my sister-in-law had left enough essentials on our doorstep to last the duration of our isolation.Of the eight people in our home, my husband and I were the only ones who developed a fever, the others all had only mild symptoms. But while my fever peaked at 100°F, my husband, who is diabetic, had a high fever right from the start. When his oxygen level began to drop, he had to be admitted to hospital where he stayed for two weeks, completing a course of steroid and antibiotic treatments for secondary lung infection.It was an extremely stressful time back at home. On one hand, I worried about my husband alone in the hospital. On the other, I worried over what to tell his grandmother whenever she asked about her grandson.One day, Muwa said, “It’s so lonely here with just you and me.” Maybe she realised that it would just be the two of us in that family from now onwards. So when her grandson returned home after two weeks in hospital, she exclaimed in relief, “Finally, I can see you like this.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be87a9c7e80680e087860jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="952"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be87d9c7e80680e087861jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="544"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Muwa likes to watch the tv news every day, and when she asks, “What happened today?”. She wants us to know how many people died of Covid-19 that day, and we give her the figure.Muwa often asks when her great-grandchildren, who live abroad, are going to come back home. We told her that planes were not flying because the pandemic was spreading all over the world. But since the lockdown was lifted and flights resumed, she sits on the terrace and keenly watches the planes fly by.Some days she notices that there were very few planes. Other days, she muses, “Quite a lot of flights today.” The planes in the sky have become symbols of hope for her to be reunited with her family one day.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be87f9c7e80680e087862jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="900" height="438"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Muwa lost her only daughter-in-law, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/who-runs-the-world-girls/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1608281673384000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEXylkJd6i9QhI2aGHlWa-nof2rmA">Angurbaba Joshi, </a>during the pandemic. A month after her passing, she lost her sister Binda Shakya with whom she was very close. We broke the news of her passing two months later when Muwa began to ask why her sister had not been visiting.One day, as she was expressing her annoyance over Binda Didi’s continued absence, without thinking I said, “She can’t come anymore.” She immediately asked, “Why? Is she dead?” I answered, “Yes.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be8829c7e80680e087863jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1094">Muwa was inconsolable over the next three weeks. She has begun to forget a lot of things, but she has not forgotten that her sister has passed. In her grief, she has started to reconcile with her own mortality. “My time has come, this is it,” she said one day.The grief of her having outlived  all of her younger siblings, a son, a daughter-in-law, and other loved ones shows clearly on her face. Sometimes, she sees her own longevity as a  curse. “Why hasn’t god taken me away yet?” she asks.Muwa overcame ‘Karuna’ (what she calls the coronavirus, and a Sanskrit word that means ‘compassion’) better than any of us. The doctors have always told us that her lungs and her heart are as healthy as a young woman’s. Her immune system is strong, perhaps from the clean and fresh surroundings and food she grew up with. She has hardened, enduring  a great deal in life, as a child widow, and as an old woman who has seen many loved ones pass on.Muwa’s mental fortitude is a testament to the fact that she is still here with us. Her memories may be blurred, but she is not inactive and silent, and will never be.

The newly-formed Himalayan Art Council is set to launch Nepal’s National Art Protection Platform that seeks to preserve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">Nepal’s unique cultural heritage </a>using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificial-censorship"> AI-powered tools</a>. The Council seeks to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali art works</a> from neglect, theft and counterfeiting as well as preserve existing artwork and celebrate living masters by giving them a cultural space to continue the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">sacred art traditions</a>. "We are introducing a new digital platform designed to preserve, verify and elevate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal’s art for generations to come,</a>” says a statement from the Council, adding that the digital platform will use AI told for authentication and blockchain to keep track of works of art. Artists can now be protected by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/ayo-ai?fbclid=IwAR1uwmTVq4gUB70ljfRezjzukD9ArWXPuMnUikopeQ8PoiZMjicToPSwhKE&amp;=1">AI tools</a> that detect forgeries, identify their work even when unsigned, and ensure they receive proper recognition and credit. The archives will be searchable with translated inscription and interactive guides. Says curator Meena Lama: “AI and blockchains are tools that give us the power to detect fakes and identify unsigned paintings and track every piece. With these tools we can restore trust, secure authorship and give artists the dignity they deserve.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum."> <figcaption>Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  The Council is also holding an exhibition of Nepali cultural masterpieces with 50 historical <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671">thangka and paubha </a>by past masters and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">contemporary works by current artists</a>. This curated collection is a living tribute to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">Himalayan culture</a> with economic depictions of deities, mandala and sacred narratives. The exhibition at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present">Patan Museum</a> also provides an opportunity to meet painters and custodians of art and culture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">Golden deities</a>, Sewa Bhattarai ‘The exhibition is only the first step in a long journey to ensure that Nepali art is no just seen but fully understood, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Narratives-of-Faith-and-Memory-Remembering-the-Lost-Sculptures-of-Kathmandu-exhibition,987">protected and remembered</a>,’ the Council says. Artist Kailash K Shrestha of Artudio has spent decades promoting thankha and paubha traditions because of their beauty and devotional meaning. But he also says artists are underpaid, exploited and ignored. He adds, “AI and blockchain are not just buzzwords, they are powerful tools that can protect Nepal’s artists from fraud, verify authenticity and build a permanent record of provenance.” Traditional Art Exhibition Till 17 May Patan Museum

Digital protection for Nepal’s art

India and Pakistan are twins separated at birth. Tensions between them have been at a hair trigger ever since independence and has erupted into full scale conflict at least four times in the past 80 years.
The 22 April terrorist attack in Kashmir that killed 25 Indian tourists and a Nepali citizen, threatens to escalate tension between the two nuclear-armed nations. India has squarely blamed Pakistan for the attacks, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi has given his military “operational freedom” to respond. Pakistan has said it has credible intelligence of an Indian military strike and its officials have promised a “full spectrum” response — a code for a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/thinking-the-thinkable">nuclear retaliation</a>.
For Nepal, the killing of its national in the Pahalgam attack comes as another stark reminder that in conflicts from Afghanistan to Iraq, from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-agree-an-armistice-in-ukraine">Ukraine</a> to Israel, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/10-nepalis-from-one-town-fighting-in-ukraine">Nepalis are getting caught in the crossfire</a>. The last time full-scale fighting broke out between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/peacemongers-at-india-pakistan-border">India and Pakistan</a> on Kargil in 1999, at least 22<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-trial-by-fire-for-soldiers-from-nepal?%27%5C%22="> Nepalis fighting for the Indian Army</a> were killed in action.
Three of Nepal’s immediate neighbours (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not have good relations. With China supplying weapons, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/war-and-warming">missile technology</a> and other support to Pakistan, this triangular friction could set off a regional conflagration.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> has calculated that even a week-long tactical nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would throw up so much smoke and debris into the atmosphere that it would block out the sun for years, and lead to a collapse of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grow-nourish-sustain-together-world-food-day">global food system</a>. This does not take into account the radioactive fallout that prevailing winds would blow up to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">the Himalaya</a>, contaminating glaciers that are the sources of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">Asia’s main rivers</a>.
The impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>on High Asia was already ringing alarm bells about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">shrinking ice cap</a> reducing the dry season flow of water downstream. Water was going to be the next strategic commodity, geopolitical experts warned, and the next wars in Asia would be over water.
That water war is already happening. India retaliated to the Kashmir attack by suspending the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/24/world/asia/india-pakistan-indus-waters-treaty.html" target="_blank">Indus Waters Treaty</a> of 1960 mediated by the World Bank that has withstood at least three wars between India and Pakistan. The treaty gives India control over the three eastern tributaries of the Indus (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beas_River" target="_blank">Beas</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_River" target="_blank">Ravi</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sutlej" target="_blank">Sutlej</a>), while Pakistan got water from the Indus and two of its western tributaries (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indus_River" target="_blank">Indus</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chenab_River" target="_blank">Chenab</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jhelum_River" target="_blank">Jhelum</a>.
Pakistan was assured of 70% of the annual flow, and India could use a reasonable amount of water for<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15231"> irrigation and hydropower</a>. &nbsp;Within days of its threat, India stopped water flowing down to Pakistan from the Chenab river and is reportedly preparing to do the same on the Jhelum.
The sabre-rattling has reached a crescendo. Besides threats and counter-threats there are also symbolic drills, with the Indian Air Force practicing landing on an expressway in Uttar Pradesh by its Rafale, Su-30 and Jaguar fighter jets to demonstrate ‘operational readiness’. In response Pakistan test-fired its Abdali ballistic missile that can carry a nuclear warhead and has a range of 450km.&nbsp;
The danger is that with ultra-nationalist rhetoric and the beating the war drums by both sides, India’s government and Pakistan’s military may have to ‘do something’ to appease domestic public opinion. But any tactical strike, an artillery exchange, or territorial incursion could quickly escalate out of control.
Expecting an Indian retaliation for the Pahalgam killings, Pakistan is using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/interfaith-collaboration-for-nuclear-disarmament"> nuclear deterrence </a>and warning of “catastrophic consequences”. The two neighbours came close to a nuclear exchange in 2019 after an attack on the Indian military in Kashmir, and prompt international intervention led by the United States cooled tensions.&nbsp;
This time, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">Trump administration</a> is too distracted and not as engaged. Pakistan has denied it was responsible for the terrorist attack and called on Washington to stop a possible Indian retaliation. India and Pakistan have stopped overflights by each other’s airlines, and some international carriers have even stopped flying over Pakistan fearing an air war.
Washington, Beijing, the UN and the EU have all urged restraint. Iran, which has good relations with both India and Pakistan has sent its foreign minister to urge both countries not to go into a tit-for-tat war. Iran has its own nuclear flashpoint to worry about with tensions in Israel, &nbsp;Yemen and Syria.
India and Pakistan both share similar problems of joblessness, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-s-poverty-rate-is-stuck">poverty </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-change-new-threat-to-nepal-s-rhinos">environmental threats</a>. Neither side needs the threat of a senseless war, and we in the neighbourhood do not need it either.&nbsp;
Kunda Dixit
This Editorial is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

Nukes in the neighbourhood

Most Nepalis thought they had seen the last of it after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/11-56-25-april-2015-wkc9q2an">the 25 April 7.8 magnitude </a>earthquake ten years ago. But the Himalaya had more surprises in store. On 12 May, another 7.3 magnitude tremor that some said was an aftershock, but was strong enough to itself be a major earthquake, struck Dolakha.&nbsp; Not many people had heard of Singati till then — a cluster of houses by the Tama Kosi River along a narrow gorge that is the roadhead to Rolwaling Valley.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  It was here that dozens were killed on 25 April in the first earthquake. Hundreds of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati-rising-from-rubble-rebuilding,3703">Singati survivors</a> had lined up for food and relief supplies in the morning of 12 May when the second earthquake triggered a rock slide that buried a nearby camp. At least 50 people were killed. &nbsp; Three hours later, a US Marine Corps UH-1Y Venom helicopter landed in a nearby cornfield to pick up the wounded, and flew off. The aircraft lost contact with air traffic control in Kathmandu and its wreckage was located high on Kalinchok four days later. Six American servicemen, two Nepal Army soldiers, and five wounded civilians from Singati were killed. Today, Singati bears little physical scar of the multiple tragedies that struck the town ten years ago. Most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">houses have been rebuilt</a> as urban-style concrete structures, and Singati has become an economic hub on the road leading up to several hydropower plants and a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal"> popular trekking destination</a>.&nbsp; The town looks less like a village and more like a suburb of the Dolakha district headquarter of Charikot, 47km away.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  “The demand for construction material, cement, iron rods and bricks peaked after the earthquakes,” says Suresh Khadka, who owns a hardware business here and now supplies material to the 456MW Upper Tama Kosi hydropower project that is undergoing repairs after it was damaged by a landslide last year. The demand for cement boomed since most residents believe, not necessarily correctly, that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">cement houses are safer</a>. Although Khadka did well selling construction material after the earthquake, he worries that most new structures do not follow seismic-resistant building codes.&nbsp; The construction boom financed by bank loans has in turn forced many from Singati to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">migrate overseas for work</a> so they can service their debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Suresh Khadka</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Phu Doma Sherpa (right)</figcaption> </figure>  “My family had no choice but to borrow money to rebuild our home since the government compensation was not enough, and ten years later we are still paying off the loan,” says Phu Doma Sherpa, 60. Because of the shortage of qualified masons and proper seismic engineering, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">many of the buildings are of questionable building standards </a>and the traditional architecture has been abandoned, admits Kul Bahadur Budathoki, deputy chair of the municipality. “But these buildings were more expensive than what the government grants could cover, many people here are heavily in debt and the men have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/every-day-is-closer-to-pay-day">migrated to the Gulf to pay their loans</a>,” Budathoki says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1079" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Kul Bahadur Budathoki</figcaption> </figure>  Singati is in a multi-hazard zone. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati,3091">12 May 2015 earthquake </a>could have led to the collapse of Nepal’s largest glacial lake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/stairway-to-heaven">Tso Rolpa</a>, upstream. Due to global warming, the glacier has turned into an expanding lake 3.5km long, and its collapse would have unleashed a catastrophic Himalayan tsunami down the Tama Kosi Valley, with Singati directly in its path. Singati has literally risen from the ashes of 2015, with its residents beginning to recover from the trauma and financial toll. But it is not out of danger as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>magnifies the risk from future earthquakes.

Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village

The streets of Patan are alive this month with lavender jacaranda trees under rain-washed skies as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the chariot of Rato Matsyendranath</a> is pulled across town. This is the festival of the rain god, and inevitably the heavens opened up and pre-monsoon showers pelted the chariot as it started being pulled in Pulchok last week. Thousands of devotees, onlookers and the chariot procession organisers thronged the streets on the first day last week. The rhythmic cymbals and drums exuded a vibrant energy as the enormous four wheels turned and the chariot lurched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  The<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141"> red rain god</a> has Hindu and Buddhist antecedents, alternatively called Bungadya and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival"> Karunamaya</a> — reflecting Kathmandu Valley’s syncretic mixture of the two religions.&nbsp; “Bungadya is a profoundly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/marketing-the-intangible">intangible form of heritage</a>,” explains heritage expert Monalisa Maharjan. “It embodies traditional knowledge,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reviving-nepal-s-craft"> artisanal skills passed down through generations</a>. Local communities and specific families have specified roles in being custodians of the heritage, ensuring their survival over the centuries.” There are many legends and stories about this annual tradition. Lichhavi king Narendra Dev is supposed to have brought Rato Matsyendranath from Assam to Kathmandu Valley to convince Guru Gorakhnath to lift a spell that created a two-year drought in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Matsyendranath was Gorakhnath’s mentor, and upon seeing him, the serpents were released, unleashing the rains. The chariot festival honours the return of this life-giving rain. The deity is seen as an icon for thriving agriculture, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">he arrival of monsoon</a> showers, and the welfare of the community. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">The reign of the god of rain</a>, Vidhu Prakash Kayastha Till this day, the Rato Matsyendranath festival is no ordinary celebration. Patan does not sleep for a month as the chariot is pulled through various neighbourhoods. It unfolds at a state level with the president (formerly the king) attending the climax of the Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel later this month.&nbsp; The intergenerational transmission of tradition is unique in the world, and the reason the festival is one of the most vibrant cultural expressions that thrives despite inroads of modernity. The other unique aspect is that it is a transnational festival, binding Patan with Guwahati in the Indian state of Assam.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  “Unlike Nepal, where the deity commands grandeur and devotion, many in Assam are unaware of Rato Matsyendranath,” says Khagen Sharma of Gauhati University, which convened <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">a symposium in February in Guwahati on the rain god</a>. Attending was a delegation led by Lalitpur Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan, organisers of the festival, and builders of the chariot. After the symposium, a committee was formed to explore and revive the tradition in Assam as well. Although the team had planned to visit Nepal this month, logistical challenges delayed the trip. Still, there are plans to build a Guru Matsyendranath statue in Assam to reestablish regular worship practices in the Guwahati shrine.&nbsp; The vines used to build the chariot in Patan are sourced from the jungles of Assam. But Sharma notes that in recent years unclear regulations have blocked the official import of the vines, although they are still brought to Nepal informally. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">chariot making</a> has also had a taste of modernisation in recent times. In the past, even a single nail or piece of steel was avoided. But over time, the wooden structure, particularly the shaft between the wheels, has been replaced with bronze. When that too proved unstable, metal clamps were introduced, which have become a pragmatic compromise.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Another welcome change is the focus on safety. Builders climbing the chariot’s tower now wear harnesses and there are efforts in crowd control. The most visible change in recent years has been the involvement of Patan’s enthusiastic youth in the festival — the tradition is now passing to a new generation. Says Matsyendranath expert Vidhu Kayastha: “There is more energy, the young people in red t-shirts this year were very organised, these modern touches aren’t diluting our culture, they’re keeping it alive in new forms.” He adds, “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">reconnecting with our roots</a>, we have more resources, more awareness than ever before. We must not be swept away by western values that may not serve us, and in some ways, cause more harm than good. We must revive our own culture.”&nbsp;

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