<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be7f69c7e80680e087831jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photos: BNMT</figcaption></figure>Drone therapy for tuberculosis diagnosis in Nepal’s remote and hard to reach mountains has won at the <a href="https://tiaca.org/tiaca-press-release/pelican-biothermal-and-nepal-flying-labs-win-2020-tiaca-air-cargo-sustainability-awards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">2020 International Air Cargo Association (TIACA)</a> Sustainability Awards and will receive $10,000 in prize money as a start-up category winner.The winning project, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tests-and-treats-tb-with-a-flying-pharmacy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Drone Optimised Therapy System</a> (DrOTS) by Nepal Flying Labs links rural health posts with high-end diagnostic tool via drones to improve the accessibility of tuberculosis diagnostic tests.“In a year marked by a global pandemic which disrupted our industry, problem solving and forward-thinking companies like Nepal Flying Labs bring hope that air cargo can come out of this crisis stronger and more resilient,” says Céline Hourcade of TIACA, which celebrates and encourages outstanding industry initiatives driving sustainability in air cargo.Under DrOTS, drones fly from a central district hospital to health posts in the mountains to collect sputum samples and deliver both diagnoses and treatment to patients living in up-country villages. The samples are tested using a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/for-nepal-a-game-changer-in-tb-control/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">high-end GenExpert kit</a>.If they are positive, patients are given DOTS (directly observed treatment short course) treatment using smart pill boxes, which keep electronic records of whether or not patients have taken the antibiotics regularly.The highly competitive award evaluated humanitarian projects based on three aspects of sustainability -- economic social and environmental -- as well as innovation and practicality of the applied solution. The winners were announced online on 10 December.The project had also won the prestigious industry award from the <a href="https://www.auvsi.org/industry-news/winners-2020-xcellence-awards" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Association for Unmanned Aerial Vehicles</a> – the AUVSI XCELLENCE Award 2020 in Humanitarian and Public Safety category in October.The goal of this project is to assist Nepal’s Ministry of Health in generating data on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tb/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tuberculosis</a> and support it in its efforts to reduce the prevalence of the infection. This perfectly curable medieval disease is the biggest infectious killer in the world today, more than HIV or malaria.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xf4OpwoblRc&amp;feature=emb_logoWhile Nepal is a role model in the community-based DOTS treatment, which ensures index patients are taking their medicines, this alone will not suffice in the battle against TB, since a patient would often have already infected others in the household and workplace. Which is why active case finding and early treatment is the key.The first comprehensive national TB prevalence survey 2018-19 in Nepal showed that the burden of TB in Nepal is much higher than previously estimated. There are now known to be 245 TB cases per 100,000 people – which means there are 69,000 new cases each year. Some 6,000 people in Nepal die every year because of the infection while every other Nepali is a carrier of TB.“Tragically over 35,000 cases of TB are not due to difficulties reaching the basic health services. To accelerate progress towards the end of TB in Nepal we must increase efforts to reach remote and disadvantaged populations with high quality TB services,” says Maxine Caws, epidemiologist with BNMT. “The drone project project represents one such approach to solve this problem, and also has the potential to address many other health challenges facing rural populations of Nepal.”The DrOTS test flight was conducted successfully in Piuthan district in western Nepal last year. Since then, over 106 flights have been carried out, collecting and delivering more than 742 sputum samples, with a result of 26 positive cases from eight remote health facilities. The technology has also been used for TB control in Zimbabwe and Papua New Guinea.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be7fa9c7e80680e087832jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption>Locals wait for drone to arrive.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181148/636be7fe9c7e80680e087833jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption>Using the drone interface.</figcaption></figure>The drones weigh 9kg when empty and can carry another 7kg in a cargo hold designed to protect against biohazards; they can be airborne for 30 minutes. The craft flies at speeds of up to 1km per minute, and is controlled by a pilot at the take-off point who coordinates with a health worker at the destination.The DrOTS project is a multidisciplinary consortium of Birat Nepal Medical Trust (BNMT Nepal), DroNepal, Nepal Flying Labs, Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, UK and WeRobotics, Switzerland working in partnership with the Nick Simons Institute, National Tuberculosis Centre, and Stony Brook University, USA.Says Biplav Pageni of Nepal Flying Labs: “We hope to scale our drone cargo technology to other rural locations and establish networks of medical cargo drones to help more people in the coming days. Drones are said to be the future of air cargo but I believe they are the present and we are using it to save lives in Nepal.”

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Nepal anti-TB drone project awarded

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636beef44b0ad905ca02ef7ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photos: BNMT</figcaption></figure>Drone therapy for tuberculosis diagnosis in Nepal’s remote and hard to reach mountains has won at the <a href="https://tiaca.org/tiaca-press-release/pelican-biothermal-and-nepal-flying-labs-win-2020-tiaca-air-cargo-sustainability-awards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">2020 International Air Cargo Association (TIACA)</a> Sustainability Awards and will receive $10,000 in prize money as a start-up category winner.The winning project, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-tests-and-treats-tb-with-a-flying-pharmacy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Drone Optimised Therapy System</a> (DrOTS) by Nepal Flying Labs links rural health posts with high-end diagnostic tool via drones to improve the accessibility of tuberculosis diagnostic tests.“In a year marked by a global pandemic which disrupted our industry, problem solving and forward-thinking companies like Nepal Flying Labs bring hope that air cargo can come out of this crisis stronger and more resilient,” says Céline Hourcade of TIACA, which celebrates and encourages outstanding industry initiatives driving sustainability in air cargo.Under DrOTS, drones fly from a central district hospital to health posts in the mountains to collect sputum samples and deliver both diagnoses and treatment to patients living in up-country villages. The samples are tested using a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/for-nepal-a-game-changer-in-tb-control/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">high-end GenExpert kit</a>.If they are positive, patients are given DOTS (directly observed treatment short course) treatment using smart pill boxes, which keep electronic records of whether or not patients have taken the antibiotics regularly.The highly competitive award evaluated humanitarian projects based on three aspects of sustainability -- economic social and environmental -- as well as innovation and practicality of the applied solution. The winners were announced online on 10 December.The project had also won the prestigious industry award from the <a href="https://www.auvsi.org/industry-news/winners-2020-xcellence-awards" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Association for Unmanned Aerial Vehicles</a> – the AUVSI XCELLENCE Award 2020 in Humanitarian and Public Safety category in October.The goal of this project is to assist Nepal’s Ministry of Health in generating data on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tb/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">tuberculosis</a> and support it in its efforts to reduce the prevalence of the infection. This perfectly curable medieval disease is the biggest infectious killer in the world today, more than HIV or malaria.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xf4OpwoblRc&amp;feature=emb_logoWhile Nepal is a role model in the community-based DOTS treatment, which ensures index patients are taking their medicines, this alone will not suffice in the battle against TB, since a patient would often have already infected others in the household and workplace. Which is why active case finding and early treatment is the key.The first comprehensive national TB prevalence survey 2018-19 in Nepal showed that the burden of TB in Nepal is much higher than previously estimated. There are now known to be 245 TB cases per 100,000 people – which means there are 69,000 new cases each year. Some 6,000 people in Nepal die every year because of the infection while every other Nepali is a carrier of TB.“Tragically over 35,000 cases of TB are not due to difficulties reaching the basic health services. To accelerate progress towards the end of TB in Nepal we must increase efforts to reach remote and disadvantaged populations with high quality TB services,” says Maxine Caws, epidemiologist with BNMT. “The drone project project represents one such approach to solve this problem, and also has the potential to address many other health challenges facing rural populations of Nepal.”The DrOTS test flight was conducted successfully in Piuthan district in western Nepal last year. Since then, over 106 flights have been carried out, collecting and delivering more than 742 sputum samples, with a result of 26 positive cases from eight remote health facilities. The technology has also been used for TB control in Zimbabwe and Papua New Guinea.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636beef84b0ad905ca02ef7bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption>Locals wait for drone to arrive.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191116/636beefb4b0ad905ca02ef7cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption>Using the drone interface.</figcaption></figure>The drones weigh 9kg when empty and can carry another 7kg in a cargo hold designed to protect against biohazards; they can be airborne for 30 minutes. The craft flies at speeds of up to 1km per minute, and is controlled by a pilot at the take-off point who coordinates with a health worker at the destination.The DrOTS project is a multidisciplinary consortium of Birat Nepal Medical Trust (BNMT Nepal), DroNepal, Nepal Flying Labs, Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, UK and WeRobotics, Switzerland working in partnership with the Nick Simons Institute, National Tuberculosis Centre, and Stony Brook University, USA.Says Biplav Pageni of Nepal Flying Labs: “We hope to scale our drone cargo technology to other rural locations and establish networks of medical cargo drones to help more people in the coming days. Drones are said to be the future of air cargo but I believe they are the present and we are using it to save lives in Nepal.”

Night Alight

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y85epyHUvjo&amp;feature=youtu.beFor those who think that Nepal is too underdeveloped to make full use of <a href="https://fusemachines.com.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">artificial intelligence</a> (AI), think again. That is exactly what they used to say about computers and mobile phones in the 1990s.It may come as a surprise to many that Nepal has been gaining ground in AI, developing not only software using machine learning algorithms but producing world-class engineers. One company at the forefront is <a href="https://fusemachines.com.np/">Fusemachines Nepal</a>, which has started using industry experts to train AI students with cutting-edge technology to deliver intelligent solutions.“I wanted to see if I can contribute in bringing the best AI education to Nepal and make Nepal known around the world as one of the best sources of AI talent,” says the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Sameer-Maskey-revolutionalizing-customer-service-through-Fuse-Machines,1069" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali founder of Fusemachines, Sameer Maskey</a>, a professor at Columbia University.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95dd9c7e80680e05dc32jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA/SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>This is the age of surveillance capitalism, where algorithms determine election outcomes, Siri knows what you want before you do, wearables correctly deduce the state of the heart and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/so-you-want-to-quit-facebook/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Facebook</a> recognises friends.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/natural-intelligence/">Natural Intelligence</a>, Duksangh Sherpa<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547">Kathmandu's Silicon Alley and the Law</a>, Sonia AwaleAI simply imitates human thinking by recognising patterns in data, so that repetitive everyday work can be done by machines that learn as they go along.Nepal missed the bus on natural resource processing, manufacturing and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/outdated-laws-limited-ecommerce-hold-back-tech-industry%20,3547" target="_blank" rel="noopener">information technology</a>. But experts say that training a critical mass of engineers in AI can allow the country’s economy to leapfrog and become globally competitive.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e09c7e80680e05dc33jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e29c7e80680e05dc34jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img title="page-14-15d" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e49c7e80680e05dc35jpeg.jpg" alt="page-14-15d"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e69c7e80680e05dc36jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="450"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Fusemachines Director of Academic Affairs Bülent Uyaniker, who was in Nepal recently, rejects the notion that Nepal is not ready for artificial intelligence applications. “It is happening already, it is inevitable. If there can be 8<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-message-is-the-medium/">.5 million Facebook users</a> in Nepal, then it has the special conditions for AI.”Proof of this is the increasing number of software companies in Nepal using local engineering talent to work on software solutions for customers in North America or Europe. However, most of the engineers and recent graduates need training in AI to keep up with customer requirements. America alone will need 200,000 data scientists in the next five years, and most of these will come from the UK, Finland, Canada, Singapore, China and India.Which is why Fusemachines Nepal is also emphasising education. Says the head of its global operations and strategy, Sumana Shrestha: “You cannot learn AI in a one-day bootcamp, it needs intelligent mathematics, but there is a huge demand versus supply gap for engineers proficient in machine learning or other AI components everywhere.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95e89c7e80680e05dc37jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Read also:<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/it-is-all-about-it-in-nepal,3887" target="_blank" rel="noopener">It's all about IT</a>, Sahina Shrestha<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Drones to the rescue</a>, Lucia de VriesNepal established itself as a sought after destination in the past 20 years <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/it-is-all-about-it-in-nepal,3887" target="_blank" rel="noopener">for outsourcing services</a> such as software and app development, website design and big data management to overseas clients, mostly due to the country’s inexpensive English-speaking workforce.This move from IT to AI will not just create jobs in Nepal, but also allow the country to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">increase efficiency and productivity in the workplace</a>. General practitioners in rural hospitals will be able to make diagnoses faster so they can spend more time with patients, high-risk individuals can be identified with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/think-pink-breast%20cancer-diagnosis-treatment,3877" target="_blank" rel="noopener">cancer screening</a>, and targeted advertising and customised itineraries will lure <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/bringing-in-two-miilion-tourists,3551">potential tourists during Visit Nepal 2020</a>.Recently, a group of engineering students developed a model to help <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-sick-of-chicken/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">poultry</a> entrepreneurs understand fowl behaviour and the state of their animals’ health, helping them to raise the farm’s business profile.“With precision livestock farming we can generate patterns to help farmers recognise symptoms before an outbreak of a disease by implementing AI components such as image processing and deep learning,” explained engineering student Sajil Awale at Pulchok Engineering Campus. “This allows for timely intervention to prevent mass deaths and reduce losses.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/tap-and-tour%20,3638" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tap and tour</a>, Clara BullockComputer vision (which enables computers to see and process images as humans would) can also help identify rotten fruit swiftly, and prevent <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/banned-pesticides-are-widely-used-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">misuse of pesticides</a> by identifying areas on the farm that require chemicals, and the amounts needed. AI can also estimate future harvests, allowing farmers time to find markets for produce.Engineers at Fusemachines Nepal are working on Nepal’s first optical character recognition (OCR) system so forms filled out with Nepali handwriting can be digitised and translated into English. This will have huge scope in Nepal’s banking, hospital and government sectors, where pen and paper continues to be the norm.Sixit Bhatta, CEO of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/three-toots-for-tootle/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ride-sharing startup Tootle</a>, says Nepal is ripe for AI applications: “Our efforts now should be on preparing for a world in which machines perform skills-oriented tasks and for humans to take on the roles that require creativity and empathy. But before that, the government should design policies that allow AI to grow, and not restrict it.”Sumana Shrestha at Fusemachines Nepal says that as long as salaries for clerical staff are low, there is less potential for AI to flourish. But she adds: “The curse of cheap labour means companies will prefer to employ people to do repetitive work. But sooner or later, AI will be here. Nepal needs to develop despite government. And the private sector needs to prepare itself for disruption.”Coming to terms with AI Artificial Intelligence: Ability of computer systems or machines to make a decision like humans, or the ability to perform tasks requiring human intelligenceMachine Learning: A subset of artificial intelligence that provides a system with the ability to automatically learn and improve from experience without being explicitly programmed, relying on patterns generated from dataDeep Learning: Machine learning that is applied on a large set of data, also known as deep neural learning that uses deep neural networks to model complicated dataNatural Language Processing: Interaction between computers and human languages, deals with programming computers to process and analyse natural (human) language, this field of AI processes, analyses, interprets and distills information from human languagesComputer Vision: Enables computers to see, identify and process images in the same way that human vision doesImage Processing: Part of computer vision that entails analysis and manipulation to find insights from a digitised imageBig Data: Extremely large data sets on which AI is applied to reveal patterns, trends and associations and make decisions<h2>Making Nepalis artificially intelligent</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a95ec9c7e80680e05dc38jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="990"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>During a visit to Nepal six years ago, Columbia University professor Sameer Maskey handpicked three students from engineering schools across Kathmandu who were able to solve a mathematical equation. The three went on to become the core of <a href="https://www.fusemachines.com/">Fusemachines</a>, a global company that aims to democratise artificial intelligence (AI) through education and software solutions.Headquartered in New York, Fusemachines has since opened branches in Canada, UK and the Dominican Republic to develop intelligent software solutions that have transformed brands and businesses around the world. One of its biggest operations is in Nepal, Fusemachines employs 100 top Nepali software engineers who work on projects that use AI applications in fields ranging from telecommunications and banking to hospitals and governance.Unlike other back office companies that work on outsourced software development, Fusemachines is a school in itself, training engineers while coming up with product solutions.“We employ senior engineers and industry experts with PhDs along with upcoming engineers, who work together to solve client-specific problems though AI,” explains <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/share-a-ride-Kathmandu,2738" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sumana Shrestha</a> who heads Fusemachines’ global operations and strategy. “Such collaborative approach allows young talent to continuously learn and grow.”Following Maskey’s vision, Fusemachines tries to make AI accessible to everyone through education, which is why it initially offered training fellowships and then, to meet the demand for engineers, launched AI Shikshya — a year-long, in-house training program.“With our own proprietary platform and content we have partnered with engineering colleges in Kathmandu to offer AI,” says Shrestha. “The program is a blend of online and on-site, the course material is not too academic, is industry focused and instructors are seasoned engineers up to date with new algorithms.”The company also has its own AI schools, open to professionals who want to grow their business or anyone interested. Fusemachines also offers a foundation course, open to high school graduates. A year-long, micro-degree program consisting of four major courses — including machine learning, deep thinking, natural language processing and computer vision — will be the next step.“In school we were always presented with clean data sets to work on but that is rarely the case on the job. But this year-long training program gets people ready to take on real-life problems and provide AI solutions,” says Rojesh Shikharkar, engineer at Fusemachines Nepal and a post-grad at Pulchok Engineering Campus.Apart from training, Fusemachines has given engineers who would otherwise have migrated to work in the US and Europe an opportunity to find meaningful work in Nepal.Says Shrestha: “If you create opportunities here, people might actually stay, and once we have mass education in artificial intelligence, companies here will start adopting and see the value of AI products, ensuring more opportunities at home.”

Sonia Awale

Bringing Silicon Valley to Kathmandu Valley

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

A new normal

We often see ourselves reflected in the other. For someone who grew up in Kathmandu Valley in the eighties and nineties, this maxim comes alive with an even greater force. Nepal’s media ecosystem was dismal, the school curriculum was narrow and did not provide opportunities for creative expression. Perhaps that is why I became obsessed with MTV videos and Bollywood films. I saw my developing self reflected in these story-lines and razzmatazz. When the media and education system do not engage the public and reflect myriad interests, aspirations and lifestyles of the population, citizens get detached and disconnected from their roots. I left for America for further studies, and was somewhat determined to never return to Nepal. It was a country full of potholes and black-outs. But foreigners have been fascinated with our country for decades. In the early 19th century, Francis Buchanan-Hamilton led a pioneering expedition and documented more than a thousand species of plants native to the region. Almost a century later, in 1905, Frenchman Sylvan Levi published ‘the first attempt to produce a comprehensive study of Nepal’, drawing on not just indigenous but available Chinese and European sources as well. After Nepal opened up in the 1950s, different kinds of foreigners have traveled here -- most notably, cold-war era spies disguised as diplomats, and later came the hippies. I returned to Nepal in 2013 and was primarily struck by two major demographics - the artists and the expats. Energised by the recent revolution, the creatives were making vibrant, powerful works. The expats, on the other hand, demonstrated a different way to navigate life in Kathmandu Valley. These two groups of people re-introduced Nepal to me and I began seeing my country and my hometown with a renewed perspective. Which is why one particular image from Giovanna Caruso’s ongoing show at the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank">Kalā</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank"> Salon</a> curated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy" target="_blank">Sophia L Pandé</a> instantly caught my attention -- rather, it called out to me, as if it was composed for me, framing a key moment from my own life. Its title is, coincidentally, 2013. Like most of her other works, the pen-and-ink drawing is punctuated by an explosion of watercolour: a woman standing confidently in front of a Newa-style house, a leg arched up, as if she is fixing a strap around an ankle before stepping out on an adventure. The watercolour depicts a rainbow streaming out of a pot through a second-floor window. The rest of the details are rendered in realism – clusters of garlic and onion hanging to dry from the rafters, and further down a stack of corn. There are towels drying, even an old water pump.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="art review Kala Salon"> </figure>  When I walked over to this artwork with Caruso, she chuckled, “Ah, this work is a celebration of my 30 years in Nepal.” It was while trying to calm a restless group of students during her teaching days in Italy that Caruso first came across an iconic image of Kathmandu Darbar Square. She had found an old box of slides and while projecting images from the Himalaya to engage her students, the artist was determined to travel to Nepal. The first flat she rented was close to the square and the view from her rooftop was the same as the one she had encountered inside her classroom. She has been traveling to Nepal every year since. Some of her favourite drawings depict Khokana in morning fog. From 1993-2006, she drew murals at Ram Mandir and Pashupatinath, asking sadhus to guide her and correct her depictions. Caruso received a classical education, which means she was trained to focus on perspective and geometry while capturing mainly portraits and still lives. She is influenced by M C Escher and his explorations of mathematics and symmetry. No wonder she finds the Darbar Square architecture so compelling. She also names as inspiration Gustave Dore, whose style is different from Escher’s and I can see how she has fused these influences in her body of work: Escher’s austerity complimented and slightly dislodged by Dore’s comics and caricatures. “Before starting, the painting needs to be complete in my mind,” she explains as we pass a series of portraits titled Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali Dancing, and Durga dominated by a roaring tiger. “These are all real people, I ask my friends and family members to sit for me.” The Kali in the drawing has the artist’s fiery copper red hair and she is dancing, surrounded by various men with flowing hair. The artist seems to have experimented here, drawing the revelers from above, and indulging in playful abandon. Depictions of Nepal are often in danger of being exoticised. But Caruso is familiar with her subjects, knows our alleys and temples intimately. Her colours and compositions are passionate and dense. In an essay, Anirudh S Chari writes the artist’s work is splashed with rapturous energy and most drawings have a carnivalesque element. ‘Kali Dancing’ illustrates this idea perfectly in that she has turned Kali’s usual fearsome portrayal on its head by depicting and embracing another feminine principle - the capacity to celebrate and create joy. Apart from drawing inspiration from Hindu goddesses and Nepal’s multi-colored rituals, Caruso has also drawn the Sumerian Ianna and Lillith and the Egyptian Nut. She enjoys drawing Nataraja, and says it is because “Shiva is a good husband”. We stand another painting titled 100 Days a Lion. “There is a saying in Italian, Better one day as a lion than a hundred days as a sheep, but I thought why not 100 Days a Lion?” This sentiment captures this nomadic artist’s spirit spanning four decades, in which she has captured urban energy as well as the sacred imagery of ‘life diaries on canvas’. From Venezia to Kathmandu and Journeys In Between Giovanna Caruso The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre Mall, Thamel Till 12 December 10am- 8pm

Looking at Nepal from Venice

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

Things eventually work out

It is quite a feat for just two actors on a darkened stage to hold an audience spellbound for more than one hour. Yet, ‘के? Us.’ at Kausi Theatre does just that. It is a thought-provoking but baffling work that leaves the audience questioning reality, the recurring metaphors in this intriguing and powerful dark comedy haunting us for days afterwards.&nbsp; The unsettling sound of deep breathing mingles with percussive drumming and a driving guitar that pulsates amidst a red glow, dimly illuminating shadowy structures charred by fire. A door leads to what is later revealed to be the ancestral home of two brothers which is ‘under renovation’. One of the brothers Ashim (Bijaya Tamrakar) lives in Nepal caring for a supposedly comatose mother who is only depicted by a tree draped with red LED lights that circulate arterial blood corpuscles. Visiting him is a long-lost brother Aaryan (Eelum Dixit) who has returned (deported?) from America.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The stage is littered with scattered paper trash, a run-down motorcycle chassis, a tattered sofa, and beat-up table and chairs. The stage is set for a sinister plot. Are the characters to be punished in perdition?&nbsp; It does not take long for the audience to grasp that this is an apocalyptic Nepal that, following absurdist traditions, could exist at any time in the future or the present day <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/election-vs-escalation">post-GenZ protest state</a>. Ashim and Aaryan Adhikari have reunited after 15 years. Ashim, the younger brother, has been burdened with the responsibility of taking care of their brain-dead mother. Aaryan, returns after having migrated to the US, where he married, had children, divorced, and lost everything. He has been at “minus 20 and is now back to zero”.&nbsp; The brothers have intense back-and-forths that expose their cynicism, the conversation tangentially alluding to Nepal’s unstable political landscape, migration, an economy in shambles, aging population, alcoholism and other mental health issues. Even the sibling argument about the relative merits of momos and burgers seems metaphorical. The stagecraft uses lighting and sound effects brilliantly, transporting the audience to a surreal world in which Tamrakar and Dixit improvise their lines — no two shows are exactly the same, although the overall plotline has continuity.&nbsp; In the first scene, Aaryan approaches the house tentatively, creeping rodent-like, and carrying a briefcase and an old-fashioned lantern. And at the end, Ashim screams, “I am chaos.” Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end?&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Choas play review"> </figure>  At one point Aaryan seems perturbed by the sound of protest outside (the Gen Z movement?) and the taut atmosphere grips the audience with fear, shock, and apprehension of the recent death and destruction.&nbsp; Throughout the play there is the sound of breathing, as if through a ventilator, a thumping heartbeat, the morbid buzzing of flies and the glowing red LED veins -- signifying the presence of the comatose Aama. She is featured in a prologue-esque home video at the start of the play in which she reminisces about her two sons and rues her failing memory.&nbsp; The sound of breathing gets accentuated each time a brother gets closer to the tree, and it seems to fuel Ashim’s belief that Aama may be brain-dead but she is still among them. This play can go as deep as each individual in the audience wants it to go.&nbsp; The silenced, comatose mother could be Nepali Aama muted by an entrenched patriarchy. Or, she could be the symbol of a helpless country while her children fight over the ruins of what is left. The cake cutting is a delightfully Shakespearean subplot where we wonder if one of the brothers is going to poison, or knife, the other. The message is clear: how can we move forward if it is brother against brother? The stairs signify political transition (elections, constitutional change, new coalitions) promising upward movement, but eventually lead to falls, leaving the nation exactly where it started, or worse. The mother’s terminal illness evokes an ailing state apparatus, hollowed out by corruption and deep-seated social decay. Yet the brothers cling to an irrational hope — instead of confronting the harsh truth and pursuing radical solutions, suggesting a blind faith in the mother.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The brothers are lost. Aaryan climbs up stairs that lead nowhere, Ashim holds on to unrealistic hope that somehow Aama will get better. Tamrakar and Dixit deliver powerful performances, even more remarkable for the fact that they are improvising their lines as they go along. When Aaryan breaks a wall and directly addresses the audience, spectators turn from being passive observers to active participants (‘the society’). The audience then become oglers in this drama, suddenly made self-aware of our role as the scrutinising, cavilling voyeurs that society represents. There is some discomfort of being watched and judged.&nbsp; By asking his brother what he is afraid of while pointing at the audience, Aaryan suggests that the brother's (and perhaps the character's core) fear is not just of the house, or the mother's illness, but of external judgment and societal censure. After the stage goes dark, the applause takes some time. Audience members shuffle out in silence, minds reeling from the collective soul-searching they have just participated in.&nbsp; After ‘के? Us.’ the din at Teku intersection outside sounds different as we wait for our Pathao ride below the खरी tree where <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=Shukra+Raj+Shastri&amp;client=safari&amp;sca_esv=75e8315709cd5118&amp;rls=en&amp;sxsrf=AE3TifMJhwukjdBBT0n4QcQWe8IYSaEVsw%3A1764648053799&amp;ei=dWQuaYbIMOy94-EPn4ygyAE&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiU1ciogp6RAxXq3TQHHeo9LBIQgK4QegQIARAB&amp;uact=5&amp;oq=nepal+tree+where+martyrs+were+hanged&amp;gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiJG5lcGFsIHRyZWUgd2hlcmUgbWFydHlycyB3ZXJlIGhhbmdlZDIIECEYoAEYwwRIug5QAFiNC3AAeAGQAQCYAc4BoAHrCKoBBTAuNS4xuAEDyAEA-AEBmAIDoALlBMICBRAAGO8FmAMA4gMFEgExIECSBwUwLjEuMqAHzw-yBwUwLjEuMrgH5QTCBwcwLjIuMC4xyAcM&amp;sclient=gws-wiz-serp&amp;mstk=AUtExfCLIneLVW3SFBzxBc964wFcTJ936tcAPSDcvNKljck0PIqDJddMZ_t8Pg610M98MCx14aNdnyLHs9QM0jWLhI7JYmkPhugX1ZHfSQvdCHZE9E5m2_ZQY5Jr893UcGjQfpabtA_C48NfB9Pg56uYMOmTtEBEcGuvz3d96Qaifyb86sI8mAkrRNo_367cv_xmFjLZ55iQkfHtORuOvZSUkIdMvAdpweuf4jPjjI4anbv9lc-uCImdP0JSvtvEGL8ePxwsWWOzYpIbjNP1zofjcWXK&amp;csui=3" target="_blank">Shukra Raj Shastri</a> was hanged in 1941 by the Rana regime. Language and Literature Students, 2026.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  ‘के? Us.’ Kausi Theatre, Teku Till 7 December (except 2 December) Bookings: +977 9842156109, 9842574607

drone

Nepal anti-TB drone project awarded

Nepal anti-TB drone project awarded

Night Alight

Bringing Silicon Valley to Kathmandu Valley

A new normal

Looking at Nepal from Venice

Things eventually work out

Staged chaos evokes state of Nepal