<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a369c9c7e80680e04831ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"/><figcaption>RENEWABLE TRANSPORT: Symbolic gestures like President Bidya Devi Bhandari using an electric limousine, and more practical tax breaks for EVs have won Nepal international praise for a proactive energy policy. However, reforms are still needed to encourage electric public transport. Pic: THE PRESIDENT’S OFFICE</figcaption></figure>Residents of Kathmandu by now know that they breathe some of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/every-breath-you-take-air-pollution" target="_blank" rel="noopener">dirtiest air in the world</a>. But unlike elsewhere, that awareness has not created the public opinion pressure to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/open-air/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">force politicians to act</a>.Up to 35,000 Nepalis lose their lives annually due to diseases caused by air pollution. One in every 10 people in Kathmandu suffers from chronic lung diseases like COPD, bronchitis and emphysema. The average life expectancy of Nepalis <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/air-pollution-decreases-life-span,3999" target="_blank" rel="noopener">is reduced</a> by over two and one-half years because of air pollution.“We have seen that electric public transportation <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/public-transport-is-equal-to-public-health,844" target="_blank" rel="noopener">can improve public health by reducing pollution</a>,” says Sajha Yatayat Executive Director Bhushan Tuladhar. “Recent advances in electric transport provide the solution. What is sorely lacking in Nepal is political will, long-term commitment and strategic planning for electric mobility.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=25485&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Life in the time of tornados</a>, Ajaya DixitIndeed, Nepal’s policy makers no longer have an excuse to do nothing about air pollution: they can follow the example of China and India and announce a national campaign to switch to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/cleaner-air-with-greener-buses/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric public transport</a>.India is rolling out 7,000 electric buses this year. The Delhi Metro is now powered by solar energy and plans to go fully solar by 2021.All 16,000 public buses in Shenzhen are electric. China has replaced all its petrol two-wheelers with electric motorcycles and scooters.Global demand for electric vehicles is rising rapidly, and manufacturers are having a hard time meeting demand, mainly because of the shortage of lithium ion batteries. The sale of electric vehicles overtook fossil-fuel cars in Norway last month.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Electri-City Cars</a>, Sikuma Rai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/20-electric-by-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">20% electric by 2020</a>, Om Astha RaiHere in Nepal, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric cars</a> now make up 10% all of all new sales. The first 40 Hyundai Kona EV sold out as soon as they arrived, and the next batch of 40 are already booked. In fact, Hyundai launched Kona in Nepal before it did so in Australia and the US. The Korean car-maker listed Nepal as a top priority market in the Asia- Pacific because of tax breaks for electric vehicles here.“We were able to convince the manufacturers that Nepal was ready to go electric because of our hydropower potential and the tax difference between electric and non-electric vehicles that showed a strong government commitment,” explained Nirakar Shrestha of Laxmi InterContinental, which represents Hyundai in Nepal.While the retail price of petrol and diesel reaches up to 261% above the cost price, electric vehicles carry just a 10% tax on the purchase price.  Electric cars are exempt from road tax, which can be Rs30-50,000 per year for fossil-fuel cars. Nepal is the only country in the world with such a huge relative tax difference.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/from-a-fossil-past-to-an-electric-future/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">From a fossil past to an electric future</a>, Om Astha Rai<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/cleaner-air-with-greener-buses/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cleaner air with greener buses</a>, Bhushan Tuladhar<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a369f9c7e80680e04831bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>However, there are still challenges to overcome before electric vehicles gain greater public acceptance, including the lack of charging stations, undependable electricity supply, and inadequate parking lots. A fast-charge electric station costs a minimum of $30,000 and can charge only 25 vehicles a day. Establishing one requires a government subsidy as well as a regulator to permit the charging of different EV models.Kathmandu Valley alone has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/poisoning-the-air-we-breathe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">750,000 motorcycles</a>, which are a major source of toxic gases like carbon monoxide and ozone. Introducing tax incentives for bikes and scooters similar to those for private cars could be a pivotal move. Also, at the moment there is no registration policy on electric two-wheelers, discouraging buyers.In October last year, Prime Minister KP Oli unveiled an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/20-electric-by-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">electric mobility action plan</a>, proposed to transform at least 20% of the fleet of public vehicles into battery-operated ones by 2020. Amidst much fanfare he inaugurated the first five Chinese, BYD electric buses inducted by Sajha Yatayat. President Bidya Devi Bhandari herself has a BYD electric limousine.Last year, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mayoral-airs/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu Valley’s 18 mayors gathered for a workshop</a> organised by ICIMOD to discuss an air pollution reduction strategy. Since then, beyond lip service little has been done to establish electric public transport and make emission tests for fossil vehicles more effective.Local and provincial governments have shown an interest in providing financial support to develop electric public transport, but the plans are sketchy and ad hoc. A case in point is the confusing and conflicting proposals for electric bus rapid transit, monorail and light rail transit along the Ring Road. The proposals are restricted to speeches and slogans, but nothing concrete has been done.One reason is the high investment cost of electric public transport, which requires government to step in with subsidies.Over the years, revenue from the Petroleum Tax has grown to a whopping Rs5.2 billion. Some of this could be invested in a clean-energy electric transportation strategy.The Seoul-based Global Green Growth Institute (<a href="http://gggi.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">GGGI</a>) has been helping the central government with just such a strategy on electric mobility, and to find potential investors. General Director Frank Rijsberman was in Kathmandu last week to sign an agreement to implement e-mobility in Nepal. GGGI is keen to help Nepal with its first purchase of 300 electric buses for cities across Nepal.  (See interview below)“Operating an electric transport fleet is more complex, requires higher initial investment and more infrastructure than traditional buses, but in the longer-term, renewable energy sources are not only ecologically but also economically viable,” said Rijsberman. “We believe that it is not only the right thing to do but also the best way of growing in the 21st century. In the coming years we hope to see a breakthrough and electric buses on the streets of Kathmandu.”Electric vehicles are now a necessity, not just an environmental statement. Neighbouring India and China have committed to manufacturing only electric automobiles by the year 2030. This means Nepal will be forced to go electric since most vehicle imports are from those two countries.Said Bhushan Tuladhar of Sajha Yatayat: “Like it or not, Nepal will have to go all electric in about a decade. So we may as well start planning for it. That way, the transition will be much smoother, efficient and advantageous.”<h2>Investing in renewables</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a36a29c7e80680e04831cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="799"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Frank Rijsberman of the Korea-based <a href="http://gggi.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Global Green Growth Institute</a> was recently in town to sign an agreement with the government and Sajha Yatayat on electric mobility. Nepali Times asked him about the future of electric public transport globally and in Nepal.Nepali Times: Why is your Global Green Growth Institute so involved in electric mobility around the world?Frank Rijsberman: We are a young intergovernmental organisation set up in 2012 with 32 member countries and 20 more in the process of becoming members, like Nepal. We help governments plan green growth, a model of economic development that is both more environmentally sustainable and socially inclusive. In Nepal, we helped the government develop a national electric mobility strategy, and we have also helped members mobilise $1 billion in climate finance.We are also working to make cities greener by managing water, sanitation and solid waste. I met with Nepal’s minister of forests and environment and he asked us if we could start working on forests as our next priority. We have done similar work in Indonesia and Myanmar, and that is likely to be our next priority here.Do you see Asian countries moving towards renewable energy?It is challenging to switch from big investments in coal and nuclear energy, because all those investments have become stranded assets. China and India are making enormous progress in renewable energy. Many other Asian countries are a bit behind — Vietnam is still planning to build 25 new coal fire power plants. We are working with governments to introduce large-scale renewable energy sources. The private sector will invest only if the government has the right policy, so we work with governments for that.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-playing-victim-to-proactive-leadership-on-climate/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">From playing victim to proactive leadership on climate</a>How can Nepal mitigate on carbon, while adapting to climate change?Adaptation is still very much the number one priority for Nepal but it must grow to middle-income status by 2030, without increasing emissions, by investing in renewable energy. This is now the cheapest form of energy and decentralised solar energy is a much easier way to reach remote communities that were very poorly served by a centralised grid.So I would call it adaptation with mitigation co-benefits. It may well be possible to trade those emissions with countries that should reduce more but cannot on their own. You can have mitigation measures too, but the first priority for countries like Nepal that rely on agriculture is to make sure that society is no longer vulnerable and is more resilient to climate change.Also, many governments still want growth. But the quality of growth really matters; it should be environmentally sustainable. It used to be the right thing to do, but being sustainable is also commercially attractive.What progress are other Asian countries making to become low-carbon economies?China has become a real leader in electric transport. Shenzhen is the first city in the world with an all-electric fleet of buses. Beijing has also taken big steps in curbing air pollution. India has also made considerable progress in renewable energy. The next big thing will be energy efficiency in buildings.What are the prospects for electric public transport in Nepal?We have done electric bus projects in a number of countries and while it is more expensive initially, and also for infrastructure like charging stations and batteries, its operational cost is much cheaper. We are helping the Nepal Government find interested investors, and hope to see a breakthrough in coming years with electric buses on the streets of Kathmandu.

Sonia Awale

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Nepal’s electric transport future is here

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933419c7e80680e03df86jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1008"/><figcaption>PIPE DREAM: Part of a 69km petroleum pipeline connecting Amlekhganj in Nepal to an oil refinery in India, under construction in Patlaiya. The pipline is proof to many that the Nepal government has no intention of switching to renewable energy any time soon. Pic: Jiyalal sah</figcaption></figure>President Bidya Devi Bhandari will be leading the Nepali delegation at the Climate Summit (CoP24) in Poland next month, and environmental activists are lobbying with the Nepal government to get her to make a far-reaching policy statement on renewable energy.They say Nepal’s commitment of turning <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/20-electric-by-2020/">20% public vehicles into battery-operated ones by 2020</a> is not ambitious enough, and the President can announce in Katowice more meaningful steps towards electric mobility.In a symbolic move to end Nepal’s fossil fuel addiction, President Bhandari is already riding an electric  but activists say that is not enough. She needs to create political momentum by getting her government to announce a cut-off date for Nepal to turn all public vehicles into electric ones.Manjeet Dhakal, adviser to the Least Developed Countries (LDC) support group at the UN Framework Convention on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-thin-ice-in-the-khumbu/">Climate Change</a> (UNFCCC), says: “Nepal can move towards electric mobility if its head of the state announces a goal to this effect at the international climate change conference in Poland.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/electri-city-cars/">Electri-City Cars</a>, Sikuma Rai<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933449c7e80680e03df87jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="327" height="327"><iframe id="datawrapper-chart-CZIOW" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important;" src="//datawrapper.dwcdn.net/CZIOW/4/" height="472" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe><iframe id="datawrapper-chart-2DG41" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important;" src="//datawrapper.dwcdn.net/2DG41/3/" height="472" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe>Last week, Prime Minister KP Oli flagged off Nepal’s first five electric buses in Kathmandu, and unveiled the country’s first National Plan of Action for Electric Mobility.Bhushan Tuladhar of Sajha Yatayat, the public transportation company that got the first lot of electric buses on loan from the Lumbini Development Trust for Kathmandu routes, says: “Public transport is directly related to public health, and it is also linked to Nepal’s economic well-being. This can be the beginning of a new era in clean transportation.”The National Plan of Action envisages a separate unit at the Ministry of Environment for the promotion of electric transport, but many are skeptical about it, given Nepal’s poor track record in implementing commitments.A recent <a href="http://www.cansouthasia.net/wp-content/uploads/N-CANSA-State-of-Climate-Action-in-Nepal-FINAL-7-October-2018.pdf?fbclid=IwAR0IOLO0TREa5UjbdMLsBnUyTRyeaRfP-iDMW-bI2-tFyddYbj5KstNKOCI">report by Nepal Climate Action Network South Asia (N-CANSA)</a> says Nepal is actually moving in a reverse, non-renewable direction despite many past policies, strategies and international obligations to lower its dependency on fossil fuels – the biggest source of CO2 emissions.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/climate-climax/">Climate Climax</a>, Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/decarbonise-now/">Decarbonise now</a>, Ajaya DixitNepal’s Climate Change Policy 2011 and the Environment-friendly Vehicle and Transport Policy 2014 aimed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by steadily reducing imports of petrol, diesel and LPG. In 2016, Nepal passed its National Determined Contributions (NDC) aiming to turn 20% public vehicles into battery-operated ones.But since then, the country’s addiction to fossil fuel has only deepened. All the policies and strategies did not make a dent on imports. In 1993/94, the year Nepal ratified the UNFCC, Nepal’s total import of petroleum products was worth only Rs5 billion. By 2008, it had grown to nearly Rs40 billion, and in the past ten years it has more than tripled to an annual Rs150 billion. (See graphs)The reason is the explosive growth in the number of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2018/01/24/electric-cars-shock-fossil-industry/">fos</a>sil fuel vehicles from only 84,000 ten years ago to 438,000 today. Most of the increase was during the tenure of Maoist finance minister Baburam Bhatttarai in 2008-9. Part of the reason for the growth in petroleum imports was also the corruption-driven artificial shortage of electricity which saw a proliferation of diesel generators. Import of diesel grew five times in the past ten years.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933469c7e80680e03df88jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="848"><iframe id="datawrapper-chart-hKFc3" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important;" src="//datawrapper.dwcdn.net/hKFc3/4/" height="390" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe>For every Rs100 earned from its exports, Nepal spends Rs169 just to import petroleum from India. Nepal is now also importing half of its electricity need from coal-fired thermal plants in India. Although it went down slightly with monsoon supply and new hydro powerplants coming on stream, Nepal imported 424MW of electricity from India this summer, which was about 35% of peak demand.Says Durga Upadhyay, a co-author of the CANSA report: “If it was not for remittances, our foreign currency earnings from exports would not even pay for petroleum imports.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-cost-of-light/">The cost of light</a>, Om Astha RaiDespite policies and symbolic moves to reduce petroleum imports, Nepal’s consumption is growing as the road network spreads and vehicle imports increase. The government’s plans to build a 36km cross-border petroleum pipeline from India and storage stockpiles in each Province indicates that there is no end in sight to the country’s fossil fuel addiction.Manjeet Dhakal says these moves indicate that Nepal’s policymakers believe the cost of ending the dependence on petroleum is too high. “But that is an outdated concept,” he says, “it is now possible to drive a country’s economy without using fossil fuels. PM Oli should learn from Costa Rica, a country he visited recently.”<iframe id="datawrapper-chart-ny5IE" style="width: 0; min-width: 100% !important;" src="//datawrapper.dwcdn.net/ny5IE/5/" height="400" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171132/636933489c7e80680e03df89jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="351" height="555">Some argue that Nepal’s economy is so petroleum dependent that it cannot switch suddenly to renewable without assistance for the conversion of cars, and to add new hydropower plants. Nepal’s per capita <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/half-full/A-carbon-neutral-Nepal-is-possible-clean-Nepal,1064">carbon</a> footprint is negligible, they add, so whether or not Nepal goes for electric mobility is not going to save the planet.However, former energy minister Dipak Gyawali says: “The volume of carbon emitted by Nepal might be small, but the rate at which we are increasing it is even higher than the industrialised West.”Gyawali says Nepal should immediately declare a peak emission year, pass a policy to gradually replace all government vehicles with electric ones and impose a tax on fuel that can be used to subsidise electric vehicles.Nepal needs to do this more importantly to reduce its balance of payment deficit, save the country from bankruptcy, and reduce its political dependence on India, than to save the world from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/melting-mountains-shake,3073">global warming</a>.

From a fossil past to an electric future

When Winston Churchill addressed the Canadian Parliament in December 1941, he recalled that generals of Nazi-occupied France had said that England would “have her neck wrung like a chicken”. Churchill went on to quip: “Some chicken.” As the laughter and applause subsided, he added: “Some neck.” (Even longer laughter and applause) We do not know who first started calling the narrow corridor that joins India to its northeastern states a 'Chicken’s Neck', but there also was the hint of a Churcillian connotation. Akhilesh Upadhayay in his new book In the Margins of the Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck, uses this strip as an entry point to explore a region adjoining Nepal, Bhutan, China, Sikkim, Darjeeling, India’s northeast and the tectonics that shaped its geo-strategic terrain.&nbsp; Upadhyay’s Chicken Neck is an organic whole, connected through centuries by transboundary traders, travellers, monks, spies, missionaries, mountaineers, and more. And as infrastructure and connectivity improves, smaller countries like Nepal and Bhutan (and earlier Sikkim) are caught up in the region’s rivalries. The tri-junction of the Chicken’s Neck is a potential flashpoint that has obsessed India’s military strategists ever since Partition in 1947 and the formation of East Pakistan, and the Chinese annexation of Tibet. India found itself squeezed between Chumbi Valley in China to the north and Pakistan to the south. So, when Sikkim started acting too independent for its own good 50 years ago, India engineered its annexation and turned it into its 22nd state. The 1962 Sino-Indian war elevated its strategic importance even more. Alarm bells ring in New Delhi each time there is trouble around the Chicken’s Neck: the Naxalite uprising had to be swiftly crushed, the Indian military moved in to liberate Bangladesh, Gorkhaland and ULFA activities were dangerously nearby, Bhutan had to be appeased. Every once in a while things would flare up between India and China, as in the 2017 Doklam standoff.&nbsp; And last year’s regime change in Bangladesh has rattled New Delhi enough to deploy its Rafael fighters and BrahMos cruise missiles in the Chicken’s Neck. It is now the most densely militarised strip of real estate in this part of the world. &nbsp; As a journalist and former editor of Kathmandu Post, Upadhyay also peers at the Chicken’s Neck through Nepal’s perspective. After all, Jhapa (where the author is originally from) sits right there astride India’s strategic lifeline.&nbsp; Geopolitics is at the front and centre of the book that takes readers back to the time Nepal was a closed Himalayan kingdom.&nbsp; Nepal may be a yam between two boulders, but it may just as well be a thicker Chicken’s Neck as far as New Delhi and Beijing are concerned. Nepal’s rulers have always had to walk the tightrope between China and India. Khampa guerrillas, covertly helped by American and Indian intelligence, raided Chinese military convoys from bases in Nepal, and King Mahendra had to do some intricate diplomatic footwork. India is often described as Nepal’s closest friend, but our relations with China go back as long in terms of the Lhasa trade, Bhrikuti and Arniko, religious exchanges and people-to-people relations. While Nepali researchers are wary of touching on Chinese, Indian or American sensitivities, Upadhyay’s journalistic background means he has no qualms about tackling the subject head-on, and objectively. He spent more than a year researching the book, sniffing around Siliguri, Bagdogra, Naxalbari, Darjeeling and the villages on the Jhapa side. Then he travelled to Olangchung Gola to listen to ordinary people of the Himalayan rimlands. Despite the perception about rigid frontiers between nation states, the book hints at how absurd the notion is. The Chicken’s Neck is also a wild elephant migration corridor, disturbed by the India-Bangladesh border fence, new expressway embankments, airport runways, and expanding cities. Similarly, the people on the Nepal-tibet border used to cross over to graze yaks — this expanded the gene pools of not just the yaks but also the nomadic humans who moved with the herds.&nbsp; Despite the hard borders, trade flourishes. Upadhyay marvels that a shop in Phungling in Taplejung has embroidered saris from Siliguri and fluffy jackets from China. he finds that residents in the northeastern and southeastern tips of Nepal have more in common with kin across the border in Tibet or India than with someone from Kathmandu. Nepal was once one of the biggest trade hubs in ancient times, and our products were treated as equals in Indian border cities. People too, could move freely, especially if they were and are from bordering Tarai cities.&nbsp; Nepal’s rich history and culture was shaped by the proximity to neighbours, and despite borders it is still cemented by marriages and trade — especially in the Nepali-speaking lands to the east. Its geographical positioning makes Nepal not landlocked but land-linked, adjacent to the largest emerging economies of the world. Nepal needs to deploy its soft power with effective diplomacy to take advantage of these two empires, and not be choked by their rivalry. The book was going to press when the GenZ protests ignited in September, but Upadhyay nevertheless managed to insert the current political transition into the pages with deft editing. &nbsp;The final section of the book examines at least three possible scenarios that may unfold as South Asia continues to be shaped by great power rivalries and imperial contests that have weakened the unilateral influence of the west.&nbsp; Akhilesh Upadhyay extrapolates from the Chicken’s Neck, zooming out for a wider perspective on the Subcontinent. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="In the Margins of Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck NT"> </figure>

Some chicken, some neck

‘Get out of my house.’ ‘All my sickness is because of you.’ ‘You’re a millstone around my neck.’ Arundhati Roy heard these admonitions from her mother over and over throughout her life.&nbsp; This must be a singular, yet universal experience. There must be very few daughters who make it through life unscathed by their mothers. And vice-versa.&nbsp; How many of our mothers look at us and see in us the potential of all of the lives they could have lived? How many resent us for it, or want us to live those lives in their stead? And how many of us look back at our mothers and imagine what they would have achieved had they not been expected and assigned to play the role of wife, daughter-in-law, mother — had we never existed in their lives? How many mothers project their experiences onto their own daughters and continue the cycle? No daughter seems to escape it — no matter how well-behaved, docile, unruly, or rebellious. Certainly not the child who would go on to become a Booker prize-winning author. Arundhati Roy’s memoir Mother Mary Comes To Me chronicles her complex relationship with her mother Mary, or Mrs Roy, as her educator mother had her two children refer to her. In December, Arundhati Roy was in Kathmandu to sign books and briefly interact with readers at two bookshops in the city. She describes a childhood overshadowed by her mother’s volatility towards her and her brother. Mary herself was raised by an abusive father to escape whom she married the first man who proposed — Arundhati’s father who in her mother’s words turned out to be an alcoholic ‘Nothing Man’.&nbsp; Mary left her husband in Assam and eventually wound up with her two children in her town of Aymanam in Kerala, encountering other family members along the way who did not treat her, or her children with respect. The trauma and cruelty her mother endured could not be contained in her body, and spilled out onto her two children, towards whom she was physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive.&nbsp; While she treated her children with disregard, she would build a school in the nearby town of Kottayam from the ground up, educate thousands of children, take up a legal fight that led to the Supreme Court granting Syrian Christian women in India equal inheritance rights, and uplift many orphaned children and women in Kerala.&nbsp; Arundhati lived with both her mother’s brutality and brilliance. And like her daughter, readers must reconcile the indefensible parts of Mary Roy’s personality — the cruelty of calling her nine-year-old daughter a bitch, or shooting the family dog that mated with a stray — with her unyielding drive to educate thousands, fight for equal rights, and challenge the way her world viewed women.&nbsp; Mrs Roy had little kindness for her own children, but plenty for the students, children, and women whose lives she shaped, and made better. And her kindness was not rooted in empathy, but in anger at the hand she had been dealt in life. Eventually, Arundhati decided to temporarily cut all contact with Mrs Roy — not because she did not love her, she writes, but so that she could continue to love her. Her desire to get away from her abusive mother, and her fascination with the ideas inspired by the architect who built her mother’s school, would lead her to the Delhi School of Architecture at age 16. In Delhi, Arundhati became roommates with Hisila Yami before she and her Maoist ideologue husband Baburam Bhattarai went underground to lead Nepal’s decade-long armed struggle. &nbsp; But architecture was not her calling. In Delhi, the heart of India’s statecraft, Arundhati came into young adulthood against a backdrop of the country’s changing socio-politics, which began to take a turn for the hyper-nationalist, Hindu supremacist community that it has now largely become. The winds of those changes have now blown into Nepal. In the city, far from her mother, Arundhati met the man who would become her partner of many years, collaborating with him on several films and screenplays before finding the language (‘I needed to hunt [language] down like prey,’ she writes) she needed to become the writer she is now.&nbsp; She went on to write her Booker prize-winning novel The God of Small Things, but the wealth and status the book brought her did not sit comfortably. So she smashed her newly-built gilded cage, as she describes it, and became more political. Contrary to norm, she published several works of non-fiction, and would only publish her second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, in 2017, 20 years after The God of Small Things. &nbsp;&nbsp; Her fierce opposition to India’s nuclear policies, to a dam that would displace millions of indigenous people and ecologically damage the Narmada Valley, her championing of Kashmiri self-determination, and her time spent with Maoist rebels in the forests of Chhattisgarh as they took up arms to defend their land and resources against corporate interests made her an enemy of the state.&nbsp; Meanwhile, being raised by a single mother had never sat well within her Syrian Christian community. ‘I wasn't Christian enough. I wasn't Hindu enough. I wasn't communist enough. I wasn't enough,’ Roy writes in her memoir. For all her love for India, the nation did not seem to reciprocate. The circumstances might be different, but it might strike a chord with readers in Nepal, many of whom marched on the streets in September hoping for a better tomorrow, but were gunned down by the very institutions meant to protect them. It might resonate with those who are not seen as citizens of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood.&nbsp; Arundhati’s relationship with her mother, who was simultaneously proud and disdainful of her daughter’s accomplishments, continued to be tumultuous until the end of Mary Roy’s life.&nbsp; One of Mrs Roy’s last messages to her daughter before she passed was: ‘There is no one in the world whom I have loved more than you.’ Arundhati muses that her lifelong refusal to stop loving her mother must have finally breached her barriers. One wonders if that final declaration of love was solace enough, apology enough, for all the pain caused.&nbsp; But for Arundhati Roy, her love for her mother and her motherland outweighs the cruelty both have shown her. This, too, must be a singular, yet universal experience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025122208128_32b171acb09df2184495367b74efd91fe2896b0f5ba75b276e1533276268761c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Mother Mary Comes to Me review"> </figure>

The sins of our mothers

This is the first instalment of our new series Nepal Made, where we profile world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. The Himalaya is the home to Ayurveda, the preventive and curative medicinal practice that relies on the tremendous diversity of plant life. This is where Hanuman is said to have come to find a specific rare herb when Ram was wounded in battle. When he could not find it, he tore off a whole mountain and hauled it down to Lanka. Since then, herbal medicines and care products have been steadily modernised in India and Nepal. Now, one Kathmandu-based company, Herveda, is going global with an all-natural skincare brand that blends traditional knowledge of medicinal plants with modern technology. Originally a Sanskrit word, Ayurveda literally means ‘the science of life’ and promotes physical and mental wellbeing through a holistic knowledge system that is 4,000 years old. Ayurvedic products have gotten more popular as global demand rises for all-natural, chemical-free cosmetic and wellness products, instead of wasteful fast fashion and beauty trends. Herveda was founded by Prativa Pandey, a scientist-entrepreneur and mother of two. She did her PhD in nanotechnology chemistry from Northwestern University in the United States and returned to Nepal in 2015 after the earthquake, staying back to explore the market and launch her brand.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  “I wanted to do something in Nepal, but didn’t want to be a doctor or engineer,” says Pandey at the elegant Herveda showroom in Jhamsikhel. “Whatever knowledge that I had gathered, I wanted to spread it in my own country.” Nepal is rich in traditional medicinal herbs and Ayurvedic plants, but proper utilisation and mobilisation has always been lagging. Most of the benefits are reaped by large companies and not local farmers. Pandey wanted to change that. To ensure that it gives back to the community, Herveda collaborates with farmers and local traders for fair trade. “I have always been fascinated by the medicinal herbs found in Nepal, and wanted to create high value products with them. It was a way to combine valuable indigenous knowledge with my academic research background,” adds Pandey. “I did not require a huge investment, just a proper marketing strategy.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  According to the Trade and Promotion Center under the Ministry of Industry, Nepal’s import of cosmetic products is increasing every year, driven by demand from a younger population. These younger customers are also more conscious about the products they use. For brands like Herveda, it is important that customers engage in wellness and skincare in an ethical and sustainable manner. Apart from being all natural, Herveda’s flagship store in Jhamsikhel has a reuse box where consumers can drop used bottles, which are then recycled. The store also displays products from 35 local businesses. Pandey believes that Nepali brands should cross-promote and complement each other: “Rather than competing, I believe we should support each other. 1+1 can be 11, and not two.” Effectiveness and functionality hold great importance for Herveda. which employs 25 scientists to develop and lab test its products at its research institute. Currently, there are products ranging from Rs400-2,000, which include lip balms, serums, and essential oils. A signature product is the Berry Boost Radiance Mask, which contains Spikenard (Jatamansi), Ashwagandha, Orange Peel, and Rhododendron.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  Herveda exports to the United States and plans to expand to China and Europe. The products get a 50-100% markup in the international market. The company recently received a grant from UKAid to expand the market as well as build capacity to scale up. It has partnered with Agriplayer software to help to develop QR codes on its products, which consumers will be able to scan to track the product sources and evaluate pricing. Nepal lags behind in rules and regulations, and the lack of monitoring has allowed low quality cosmetic products to penetrate into the market. Herveda has got an international certification from USFTA, which is important for its foray into the export market. “For the cosmetic industry to scale up, there should be a central testing facility that is well equipped and meets international standards. Additionally, export should be made easy,” adds Pandey. “If there are too many barriers to entry, no one will be willing to invest.”

Looking good by doing good

Samrat Upadhyay’s newest novel <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/10/books/review/darkmotherland-samrat-upadhyay.html" target="_blank">Darkmotherland</a> imagines a Kathmandu in political turmoil after a large earthquake. In the aftermath, Home Minister Giridharilal Bhagirath Kumar stages a ‘koo’, and has convinced people that he is the answer to the crisis.&nbsp; He is now known as ‘PM Papa’, and picks up classic dictatorial ways — propaganda, statue-making, history-revising, and a gang of Shiva-worshipping ‘Fundys’.&nbsp; We are introduced to two complicated protagonists. The first is Kranti, a fetching young woman and ‘Madam Mao’, her Communist professor mother. The chef father loved classic rock and died by gas cylinder suicide. Kranti hates her mother, and the Communist group which congregates at her home to plot against PM Papa, although they seem to take forever to get anything done.&nbsp; Kranti has a complicated relationship with the handsome Bhaskar, the middle son of the Ghimirey family oligarchy that is aligned with the dictator. She loves him, but as Bhaskar gets more and more involved with her mother and the Communist group, finds herself heading out to the ‘Bhurey’ (Bhu-kampa Rey-fugee) tents, to spend time with poet Kabiraj.&nbsp; Kranti is also given to delusions, paranoia, and psychosis, convinced that Bhaskar’s family is spying on her, and that one in the Communist group has supernatural powers of suggestion that led to her father’s suicide. Despite mental issues, she marries Bhaskar and into the Ghimirey clan, and the complex nexus between business and politics.&nbsp; The second is Rozy, initially the genderqueer lover of PM Papa who he discovered in the streets, and is described as a ‘gorgeous homosexual’. She turns heads due to her sexuality and beauty, and gets more and more politically powerful as the story moves along.&nbsp; Upadhyay tells us Nepali writers writing in English often feel a pressure to create an “all-embracing world” (interview), but that is what he seems to be getting at with the monumental plot of his novel. Unlike the realism in his previous novels, this one drifts off into magical realism. His narrative blends the ever-present risk of a big earthquake and the actuality of political tremors. The speed of political upheaval seems a little unrealistic for anyone who lived through the 2015 earthquake, although the GenZ protests showed just how quickly a regime can be reduced to a heap of rubble. The age-old question: oppression can be overcome, but what comes after? The PM Papa character is a Gyanendra-Oli-Deuba-Prachanda-Modi-Trump-Papa Doc composite who is good friends with the not even thinly veiled President Corn Hair.&nbsp; Through the character of Kranti, Upadhyay conveys the dynamic between a parent and a child who is now a full adult, on relationships in Kathmandu as marriage looms, on pervasive corruption which one might denounce but have to take advantage of to get things done.&nbsp; Through Rozy, Upadhyay brings attention to the non-binary identity, one that has existed forever in Nepal, and although is discussed a lot in the West lately but not so much here. Upadhyay explores the origins, the present, and the various advantages and disadvantages of the queer.&nbsp; Storytelling in the early parts of the book oscillates between the real and absurd fantasy amidst the physical and political backdrop that does not have to be Nepal -- it could be Modi's India or Trump's America.&nbsp; The reader sees the world through Kranti’s psychosis, or PM Papa’s displays of power, such as when a ‘Sweej’ wrestler is beaten to death with a mace in a wrestling spectacle.&nbsp; These elements <a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/authors/profiles/article/96329-samrat-upadhyay-wants-you-to-expect-the-unexpected.html" target="_blank">coagulate in the novel</a>, and Upadhyay has all the pages at his disposal to prod and push them against one another to see what happens. The novel is still at its best and most engaging when describing vulnerable scenes, of Kranti and her mister, or of Rozy’s messed-up childhood.&nbsp; Any Nepali reading his weighty novel can recognise the allusions and nudges such as the Tourist Area: Thamel, Open Stage: Khula Manch, Tri-Moon: Tri-Chandra etc. But anyone not from these parts may have a tough time keeping track. Keeping a notebook handy may be useful.&nbsp; Ultimately, the novel does work, it provokes and entertains. For best results, serialise the reading over 30 days, not 3 like this reviewer.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Darkmotherland NT"> </figure>  <h2>More things change, more they remain the same</h2> First US-published Nepali Samrat Upadhyay is the award-winning author of novels and short story collections like Arresting God in Kathmandu, The City Son, Mad Country, and Buddha’s Orphans. Upadhyay is also the Martha C. Kraft Professor of Humanities at Indiana University, where he teaches Creative Writing.&nbsp; Recently in Kathmandu, he talked to the Nepali Times over coffee in Boudha about his writing, his teaching, and his newest novel, DARKMOTHERLAND.&nbsp; Nepali Times: Darkmotherland is 732 pages long. What was it like writing a much longer book? Samrat Upadhyay: Torturous Ha ha ha. Around 2014 I started a story. I knew it was going to be a novel. It was about this woman who is accused of being a Mangalik. Then the big earthquake happened in 2015. I was in the US but my parents were still here, they were living in tents. Then I started thinking, what would happen if a dictator came to power. That’s how PM Papa was born. I think mostly because of his character the novel exploded. I had never written a character like him before. I don’t do any plot outlines when I write. Let’s see where it goes. I like the process of writing to lead to discoveries. If I knew everything then I’d get bored. Not knowing where the storyline might go is very exciting. All these different threads started coming in, the character of Kranti started taking on a big role. Her mother, a Communist-leaning professor, started taking shape. Kranti also had a love-interest from an oligarchical family. The novel just took off and I just continued writing. A novel is as long as it needs to be. The initial draft was 1,700 pages. I was writing pretty fast. I don’t pause to see if the sentences are pretty. I whittled it down, and by the time I sent it to my agent it was 1,100 pages. He was able to sell it to Soho Press. I worked with an editor who suggested some further cuts and expansions. The editing part was even harder than the initial writing, because by that time I was tired of looking at the novel. There was a bit of a delay because of Covid, then we got back on track. What’s your daily process of getting the words on paper? I am a morning writer. I get up in the morning and start writing. You can have all kinds of theories but there is this saying, Shut Up and Write. The writing is where the meat is. You encounter difficulties in writing that you may not encounter when thinking about it. I see this in my students. I knew this was a big project so I knew that if I wanted to get it out I would need to write a lot per day. I got a couple fellowships in the university that gave me a few semesters off teaching. I would write for about 4 or 5 hours. Sometimes I would give myself a 1,000 word deadline, but I’m flexible with it if I don’t get there. You have to be kind and patient. What is your inspiration behind the gender-queer character, Rozy? I’ve always been a strong supporter of LGBT. I would say that at this point half of my students are non-binary or on the gender spectrum. Some of them are going through transitions. In some ways Nepal has become more accepting, but in other ways not. I did a workshop with Blue Diamond Society, and heard pretty harrowing stories. I didn’t intend to create a gender-queer character, but it seemed like the novel was demanding that. Especially in terms of the tyrannical stronghold that PM Papa has over the entire country, it made sense that there would be a counterpart, I wanted to put these things in motion and see how they interact. As I was writing Rozy, her character became very formidable. How much do you draw from Nepali politics? Do you form characters off people you know? Not in a very concrete sense, but I’m always drawing from them. I grew up in the Panchayat System, and lived in Lainchaur. The palace was there. The monarchy was such an institution. But then I was in the US, so I wasn’t here when the pro-democracy movement happened. In some ways it felt like things had changed, but were the same in other ways. I feel the same way now. I do draw upon people. I think my father makes an appearance in my work in various forms, I disguise him, of course. You’ve taught creative writing for a while now, how is literature changing?&nbsp; My students are also writing non-binary characters, because they want to be reflected in the stories. This is something new that we didn’t have. White authors, characters were the default. People of Color on the margins. African American and then Hispanic, South Asian authors were always pushing back on this status quo. When I was growing up in the classroom we were reading a lot of white male authors, but in my own life I was reading Salman Rushdie, African, South African friends and writers. My students have a lot more interest in fantasy, many are writing dystopian. One student is writing a novel where the characters start playing a game, and then they enter the game, and an entire new world opens up. On the one hand there are complaints that students aren’t reading enough, which is true, but my students are producing smarter work. Writing that is a lot more insightful. The calibre of discussion in my graduate-level novel writing classes is mind-boggling to me, and makes me want to keep on teaching. Do Nepali writers who write in English feel a certain pressure, from the market or self-imposed, to make their stories more Nepali? My experience for a long time was that there was a pressure, I felt it true in my case, I was supposed to be the representative of every Nepali. But Nepali writers writing in Nepali are not asked, how are you representing Nepal. At that time there was a lot of pressure to write a novel that is all-embracing, that is supposed to speak on all aspects of the country. Politics felt like an integral part of it, that these novels had to make big political statements. I always felt like this was wrong. I mean, people have to write what they want to write. &nbsp;You write what you want to write, and if it resonates with readers, that’s great. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too. Art isn’t going to speak to everyone. We do a competition every couple of years called Writing Nepal. We make a call for stories, and we decide the best ones. I find it refreshing now that the writing isn’t all about Nepal. The best stories are quite varied. What are Nepalis writing about?&nbsp; Several of the stories are about the role of women in our society, done with a lot of nuance, about the sort of multitasking they have to do. Some of it was deeply historical, some dystopian, the coming of AI. Some of them have an old-timey type of feel, and some of them are very modern, contemporary. The general level of art in movies, TV shows, and novels seems to have regressed compared to say the 90s.&nbsp; I don’t think that’s entirely true. Publishing has been harder, for sure, but there are a lot of novels being published every year. My writing workshop had always been a good vehicle for short stories, but a lot of my students now—even undergraduates—are working on novels. I haven’t formulated my thoughts on AI, it is so new and has hit us so hard. Many of my students are using AI, especially when writing response papers to works of literature or peers, which I find appalling. That’s going to be a struggle. I tell my students, who are you fooling? If you feel that you want to be an artist, or a writer, then what’s the point of using AI? AI-generated stories are also just not that good. They’re almost too perfect, too well put-together, making moves that are easy to detect. There is something about human-written stories that are messy and exciting. But there are also plenty of students who want to do original work and don’t want anything to do with AI.

electric-mobility

Nepal’s electric transport future is here

From a fossil past to an electric future

Some chicken, some neck

The sins of our mothers

Looking good by doing good

A dystopian motherland