<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f519c7e80680e056e20jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="924"/><figcaption>Photo: KEDAR SHARMA</figcaption></figure>It is said that food is eaten first with the eyes. But on our two-month food tour across Nepal recently, we felt that food may be first eaten with the ears. Delicious descriptions drew us to dishes even before we saw them.We heard of many exotic dishes: milk buried underground for six months in Jumla until it fermented into yoghurt, meat marinated for a week before it is eaten in Kalikot, meat belonging to the entire community cooked in a single dish in Gulmi. Cake-like dishes made of rice, millet and other flour that are not known outside the districts they are eaten in.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tharu-escargots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tharu escargots,</a> Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/food-of-the-royals/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Food of the royals</a><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f549c7e80680e056e21jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="393" height="377">We have always been told that Nepalis don't have names that correspond to breakfast, lunch and dinner, but have only meals and snacks (khana and khaja). However, the Tharu have names for five different meals, according to the time of the day they are served in. Communities that migrated most, especially Brahmins and Chhetris, had lost most of their culinary heritage. Yet in Baitadi, we saw that those who had stayed behind retained their original foods.All of this led us to ask ‘What exactly is Nepal food?’ Is dal bhat tarkari the national dish? Are foods in Nepal original, and is there a commonality between the country’s varied cuisines?Bhat (steamed rice) cannot solely define Nepali food in a country where indigenous grains like wheat, corn, buckwheat, millet, barley and others are grown abundantly, and roasted and steamed into bread, boiled into porridge, or ground for storage. Any one of these can be taken as a staple food. Beyond that, lentils form an essential part of our diet, though their cooking varies according to geography and ethnicity.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33917&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The superfoods of the Andes and the </a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33917&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Himalaya,</a> Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33901&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Much more than dal bhat,</a> Anil Chitrakar<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/vegetables-and-famous-veggie-dishes-this-Dasain,3951" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Vegetables are eaten Nepalwide</a>, mostly fried, and sometimes boiled. Oil to fry them in, and turmeric for its colour and medicinal property, are essential to Nepali cuisine. Green leafy vegetables saag differentiate the Nepali thali from North Indian ones. Gundruk, sinki, tama, kinema, and other foods made by fermenting leaves, bamboo shoots, or beans are common across Nepali kitchens. So are dairy products like milk, yoghurt and buttermilk, and it is a tradition to flavour rice with a bit of ghiu.As for meat, there is no uniformity. Some like pork and others buffalo, both forbidden by other communities. Nepali cuisine is lacking when it comes to dessert, and many communities do not even have the tradition of eating sweets.Nepal’s most exotic dishes are not found in restaurants but eaten only at home. While this preserves their taste, it also limits the dish to a small family group.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/could-nepali-cuisine-go-global/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Could Nepali cuisine go global</a>, Thomas HeatonIn this age of easily available packaged food, we are losing slow-cooked foods that once used to enhance the taste, smell and nutritional value of foods. Not just our recipes and cooking techniques, but our entire agriculture system has fallen prey to commercial agriculture, and many indigenous foods are not grown any more.After our culinary journey across Nepal, our conclusion is that there is no standard ‘Nepali food’. It is our duty to define, and refine, our ethnic dishes and preserve their originality. We need to get these dishes to restaurant tables around the world by cooking, eating and propagating them ourselves. Nepali food deserves to go worldwide.<h2>Tharu</h2>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3h10eHDoRt4Tharus who live in the plains make use of all the ingredients around them, including aquatic animals like fish, snails, clams, shrimp and crabs. You name it and Tharus make a delicious dish out of it. They are also famous for eating healthy, with their staple grains and vegetables steamed or boiled.It used to be that Tharu food was only available during the Maghi festival at Tundikhel. But Tharu restaurants in Kathmandu now provide the food all the year round. Barghar Restaurant in Kirtipur provides all the traditional Tharu delights, even crabs and clams.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f569c7e80680e056e22jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="934"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Thakali</h2>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4SL3kYsqWqsThough Thakalis live in Mustang where rice does not grow, Thakali restaurants have become synonymous with the typical Nepali dal bhat tarkari. That might be because they were historically traders and were exposed to foreign foods. The Thakali thali  use Himalayan spices like jimbu and timur. They have also retained many indigenous dishes like kanchemba (pictured, left), fries made of buckwheat, which grows abundantly in Mustang. Thakali food needs to be branded and standardised so that it doesn't lose its originality, and the production of local ingredients can be promoted.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f599c7e80680e056e23jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="933"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Thakali food has come to mean tasty dal-bhat-tarkari, and spic and span Thakali restaurants can be found all over Nepal, and even abroad.<h2>Sherpa</h2>https://youtu.be/6Q_RbKoSQ2kSherpa cuisine is derived from Tibetan, and is designed for the cold harsh climate of the high mountains. Rigikur, a potato and buckwheat bread, is rich in butter and eaten with cheese sauce. Shyakpa, or meat soup, is consumed piping hot any time of the day. And su chiya, a unique salt and milk tea, is also had with dollops of butter. Tasmpa, a popular breakfast, is made by grinding grains like buckwheat, millet, wheat, or a combination of them, and is had with milk and honey.Though Sherpa food is rarely found  in most mainstream restaurants of Kathmandu, they are common in the Bouddha area. Newly opened Sherpa Cafe in Jhamsikhel caters to customers in Patan.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f5d9c7e80680e056e24jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="963"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>Newa</h2><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/food-review-Krishnarpan-Dwarikas,2542" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Newa cuisine</a> is rich and varied. Samye-baji is the standard mid-day snack and also a festive delight, where beaten rice is eaten with many vegetables and condiments. Spicy potato salad, bara (lentil flatbread), beans, soybeans and marinated buffalo meat are popular accompaniments.Almost every little alley in Kathmandu contains a Newari restaurant, serving samye-baji, bara, chatamari (rice bread), and other dishes. The choices range from low-end corner shops to high end outlets like Dwarika's Hotel in Battisputali.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f609c7e80680e056e25jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="446"><h2>Rai/Limbu</h2>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKKIEeGA3AQPork meat is a staple of the Rai and Limbu communities in eastern Nepal. Sargemba (pictured), or blood sausage, is made by stuffing blood and seasonings into pig intestines, and then cut and fried before it is eaten. The pork curry Yangben-Fakso (left) is also unique, flavoured with a lichen called yangben, soaked in warm water and mixed with pork blood. It goes well with chamre  (fried rice) and kinema  (fermented beans).<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f619c7e80680e056e26jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="342"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f639c7e80680e056e27jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="342"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rai/Limbu cuisine is rarely found in Kathmandu, except for a couple of restaurants in Nakhipot and Baluwatar. Raithane Resturant in Lalitpur promotes Nepali dishes and local ingredients, and includes a couple of these dishes in its menu.

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Exploring Nepal’s culinary diversity

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141148/636a5eff9c7e80680e056dfdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="925"/><figcaption>Photo: DWARIKA'S HOTEL</figcaption></figure>With so many Nepalis living outside of the country, those of us who remain are often asked what keeps us here. The standard answer is: home food. Which is why it is sad to see many menus featuring the same momos, chowmein and fried rice, when we have so much culinary heritage on offer.We live a country where food is regarded as sustenance, and not a luxury. We eat to live. We eat when we arrive at a place where food is being served, not necessarily when we are hungry.Nepal is synonymous with the Himalaya, and more recently the world has woken up to the fact that we also have plains in the south and a plateau to the north. It is our unique location the gives Nepal its ethnic and culinary diversity. Which is why we must position our food as a product, service and a true lifetime experience.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=34079&amp;preview_nonce=2924ca6ef5&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Exploring Nepal’s culinary diversity,</a> Kedar Sharma and Kiran Sharma<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tharu-escargots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tharu escargots</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWe have so much more than dal bhat -- why have we kept all those dishes hidden from the world? Japanese, Chinese, Indian, Thai and Vietnamese food are now served all over the world why have we not  branded Nepali cuisine? Thakali and Newari restaurants are doing well, others should follow.At Lakeside in Pokhara, there is a restaurant called Fresh Elements that sources local ingredients to create world-class meals. At Dhakhwa House in Patan visitors prepare, cook and enjoy a great meal as part of the homestay package. Bhojan Griha in Dillibazar has been serving Nepali food with local music and folk dances for many years now.At the award-winning Dwarika's Hotel, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/food-review-Krishnarpan-Dwarikas,2542">the Krishnarpan 18-course dinner </a>(pictured above) is now a global brand and a lifetime experience. The yogurt of Bhaktapur, the sisno (nettle) soup on trek routes, millet, buckwheat and Tibetan bread, are all part of many menus now.We need to involve creative chefs who will help transform these and many more local ingredients into world-class dining experiences. We could develop our own Nepali version of Masterchef Australia.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=33917&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The superfoods of the Andes and the Himalaya,</a> Sonia Awale<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141152/636a5f039c7e80680e056dfejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="393" height="377">We want to see Nepal’s globally unique culinary heritage featured as a separate and stand-alone tourism offering. It can be done with a bit of creativity and entrepreneurial skills from tour operators, such as the growing trend of cooking classes for tourists.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-superfoods-of-the-andes-and-the-himalaya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Exploring Nepal’s culinary diversity,</a> Kedar Sharma and Kiran Sharma<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tharu-escargots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tharu escargots,</a> Sewa BhattaraiDal bhat is all well and good but Nepal can offer so much more. We have some of the most unique spices and ingredients found nowhere else in the world. In Humla, for example, you can walk a whole morning across a meadow where thyme grows as far as the eye can see. Jhimbu gives Nepali dal the aroma and taste that Indian lentil cannot match. Mustang potatoes and lapsi are now much sought after.Global and domestic visitors travel to experiment, learn, have new and unique experiences, take photos, show off to friends and family back home, and then tell stories for the rest of their lives. A few may even write articles, or even a book, depending on how the experiences impacts them. Let us make Nepali food one of their ‘unforgettables’.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/satisfying-trekker-appetite-for-adventure/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Satisfying trekker appetite for adventure,</a> Sanghamitra Subba<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/could-nepali-cuisine-go-global/">Could Nepali cuisine go global?</a>, Thomas HeatenBranding Nepal as a culinary destination will create new jobs, help our farmers grow high-value ingredients, keep tourists here longer longer and spend more. It will also give Chainpur and Palpa brass dishes a boost, along with dhaka napkins and tablecloth.Many local ingredients will find their way to the global marketplace along with the handcrafted serving plates and pans, ranging from clay to silverware. Everyone has to eat, why not make it a very unique truly Nepali experience?Anil Chitrakar is the President of Siddharthinc

Anil Chitrakar

Much more than dal bhat

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141148/636a5efb9c7e80680e056dfbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1329"/><figcaption>Illustration: DIWAKAR CHHETRI</figcaption></figure>It is once more that time of year when Nepalis eat, drink, and make merry in family reunions. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/octoberfest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dasain</a> is what binds the Nepali world, together with our shared history and culture. The festival has transcended religion to become a time for society and the nation to unite in common celebration, and revive our collective hope for the future.Dasain is said to have its origins in a proto-Hindu harvest festival, the myths about the victory of good over evil and the goddess impaling a water buffalo came much later. With the monsoon over, paddy fields turn from green to gold, the clouds start blowing from west to east again, there is a nip in the air, and the hills are deep green. The snow mountains come out, shiny with new snow.In recent years, as more and more Nepalis travel overseas for work, study or to emigrate, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dasain-goes-global,3950" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the diaspora Dasain</a> is a stark reminder of how family members endure prolonged periods of separation. With more than 15% of Nepal’s population living and working abroad, the flights into Kathmandu are full of Nepalis coming home for the festival. Kathmandu itself empties out as people go home to their ancestral villages.Dasain has always had an escapist character. It is a time when people can forget their daily struggle against unemployment, inflation, shortages, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-klepto-republic/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">corruption</a> and the lack of basic services. Those problems can wait, while we re-establish family ties, and perhaps even reaffirm a hope for the future, holding out in the belief that things will get better. However dark the clouds are, the sun will come out -- Dasain gives us a booster shot of optimism.But, we have to admit, the weeks leading up to Dasain this year did not give us much reason to hope. Ruling party hotheads attacked and beat up self-styled royalist Gyanendra Shahi for having ridiculed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/nepali-times-search/?q=yogesh+bhattarai" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Minister of Civil Aviation and Tourism Yogesh Bhattarai</a>. Police just stood by. Minendra Rijal of the Nepali Congress was roughed up by NCP goondas in Tanahu. NCP co-chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal regularly threatens the opposition in his public speeches, while Information Minister Gokul Banskota does not even try to hide his disdain for a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/creeping-control-over-the-press-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">free press</a>.But perhaps nothing indicates the state of impunity and lawlessness in this country more than the rape charge against House Speaker Krishna Bahadur Mahara this week. Prime Minister Oli and Dahal probably realised how seriously this would affect the NCP’s public image, and acted swiftly to instruct Mahara to tender a written resignation, which he did reluctantly and in ambivalent language. Predictably, the woman who accused the speaker of unspeakable crime has been 'persuaded' to retract her complaint.The Prime Minister seems to be fully aware of the level of disillusionment among Nepalis about the party to which they gave a two-thirds majority in Parliament. Oli himself is having <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/in-wait-and-wait-mode/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">serious health issues</a>, the government had <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/four-year-itch/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">failed in service delivery</a>, it has a dismal record of non-performance, and Nepalis every day negotiate infrastructure that is in a dangerous state of disrepair.None of that had particularly worried the prime minister’s office, but the Mahara scandal appears to have seriously rattled the NCP, and forced it into crisis mode. By taking prompt action to force the Speaker out, Oli is showing belated decisiveness. The government shutting down for holidays will provide Oli some respite, but ultimately the prime minister will be tempted to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dangerous-driving/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">reshuffle his cabinet</a> -- an age-old method for Nepal’s rulers to buy time to defuse a crisis.This time, things may have gone a bit too far for a reshuffle to resolve. The rot goes to the top. When tycoons have access to Oli’s parlour at Baluwatar or his hospital bed in Singapore, one has to question how much the collusion between contractors and the government is hurting the country. Roads never get repaired, bridges never get built, national pride projects are a national shame.Nearly half-way through its tenure in office, Prime Minister Oli will have to do some serious thinking over the holidays. How is he going to make up for lost time and get this government machinery cranked up? If he <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/own-worst-enemy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">has not been able to govern and perform</a> in the past two years, it is unlikely he can get anything done.Oli is probably banking on the visit to Kathmandu by Chinese President Xi Jiping later this month to lift his stature and nationalist credentials. There will probably some grandiose announcement, perhaps of the trans-Himalayan railway.Being the wily politician that he is, Oli will not have to be told that people are looking for immediate and tangible hope that tomorrow will be better than today. This Dasain, most Nepalis will be trying not to think about tomorrow.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/octoberfest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Octoberfest,</a> Editorial<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dangerous-driving/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dangerous driving</a>, Kunda Dixit<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/four-year-itch/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Four-year itch</a>, Editorial<h2>10 years ago this week</h2>In his column, State of the State, ten years ago in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/471" target="_blank" rel="noopener">issue #471 of 25 September-1 October 2009,</a> C K Lal analyses the evolution of the Dasain festival:Ironically, those who gave Dasain pan-Nepal acceptability - the Janjatis of the mid-mountains from the east and west - have begun to call for its boycott. Within the British and Indian Gurkhas, the lahures kept the faith through their own secular celebrations of religious festivities such as Dasain and Tihar.Thus they kept in touch with the idea of Nepal and Nepalis rather than their own ethnic particularities. As long as these indefatigable fighters continue to serve abroad, Dasain celebrations there will retain their secular character.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/471"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141148/636a5efd9c7e80680e056dfcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="772"></a>

DASAIN ONCE MORE

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

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

This is the 76th 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. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

In a democracy, governments come and go. But Nepal had become so entangled in the triangular affair between Sher Bahadur Deuba, K P Oli and Pushpa Kamal Dahal that it was becoming impossible to tell who was canoodling with whom.&nbsp;
All three had long since abandoned their party ideologies. Staying in power was all that mattered as they turned Nepal’s democracy into a kleptocracy.&nbsp;
For the past at least 20 years, we have warned them to mend their ways. Democracy had to be rescued from the hands of such kakistocrats. Waiting to pounce were monarchists and anarchists of every ilk, outcast Maoists, and supporters of a leader jailed for fraud. Tycoon Durga Prasai said his rally in March was to restore a Hindu monarchy, but he was just a temporary royalist whom even the ex-king spurned.&nbsp;
All this converged into a perfect storm on 8 September. Commandos shot and killed 19 innocent young people outside Parliament, the anger boiled over into targetted arson and vandalism the next day. The government fell, and Sushila Karki was elected interim prime minister through Discord.&nbsp;
With not just their monopoly on power but also their very lives in danger, the triumvirate was at first in total shock. Then came conspiracy theories and an inability to gauge the rage from decades of misrule.
Nepalis had assumed that after September the old parties would see their folly, and step down to hand over the leadership to a new generation. But 10 weeks later, there is no sign of any act of contrition.
In the NC, Sher Bahadur Deuba has sidelined the caretaker he himself appointed, Purna Bahadur Khadka, and is active again as the party prepares for a showdown in its Convention next month. The UML is proceeding with its own General Convention, where Oli is fully assured of a third term as party boss. Dahal sees no alternative to himself in his newly-forged Nepali Communist Party and is eagerly eyeing becoming prime minister for the fourth time.&nbsp;
The three leaders who everyone had hoped would finally retire have reincarnated. It is obscene for obsolete politicians to still hanker for power after all that has happened.&nbsp;
SHOCK AND AWE
The three leaders who have been prime minister a dozen times between themselves want to cling on, but this is not abnormal if we apply <a href="https://www.bbc.com/audio/play/w3cszmjz" target="_blank">Elisabeth Kübler-Ross</a>’ theory of the five stages of grief. The author of <a href="https://www.google.com.np/books/edition/On_Death_and_Dying/GlSq0AEACAAJ?hl=en" target="_blank">On Death and Dying</a> was analysing how people with terminal illness deal with their situation, but her 5-stage theory may be applicable to the way heads of the NC, UML and NCP are reacting to the shock of being overthrown — first with denial, then anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.&nbsp;
On 9 September, distressed by what had befallen them, the three were in total denial. Then began the stage of anger. Oli ranted in public about a conspiracy to install an ‘unconstitutional’ interim government, blaming the Nepal Army, and vowing not to take part in election even while preparing for it.
The NC has decided to participate in elections, although it has to first sort out its internal power struggle. The NCP and the RSP have united with smaller parties and are actively preparing to campaign. GenZ groups are speaking in different voices, with Sudan Gurung and Miraj Dhungana openly trying to unseat an interim government they themselves installed.&nbsp;
The parties are now in the third stage: bargaining. Instead of asking himself in hindsight what he should have done, Oli wants Parliament restored but has also registered his party for elections. The UML won't allow elections unless the government lifts restrictions on Oli’s movement.
Likewise, GenZ groups are putting up conditions for supporting polls: arrest Oli and others. Karki is single-mindedly focussed on elections, even if it has to be put off by two months. The Army would also like polls on time because it does not want a repeat of September when it had to intervene to form the interim government.
If Karki’s 6-month mandate ends without elections, and if by then the GenZ’s trust in the interim government collapses, then UML and NC could plan to press for an all-party election government, restoration of Parliament which would then dissolve itself to appoint a new prime minister that Karki would also be agreeable to.
The current state of affairs makes it difficult to imagine elections being held on 5 March — mainly because polls would be incomplete without the three main parties taking part, and it is unlikely they would participate in polls that they are certain to lose since they have not reformed themselves. Amidst these ifs and buts, the role of the Army will be critical.&nbsp;
The fourth stage of grief is depression, and that is what will happen to the parties when the reality of their unpopularity finally hits them. Only then will they finally accept their fate, realise that it was all their own doing, and perhaps reinvent themselves.
Kübler-Ross said the five stages did not necessarily have to be in that order, or that sometimes there may only be three phases, which may be applicable to the parties. What is for sure is that the three leaders are in no mood to atone for their sins.
Rabin Giri is an editor with <a href="http://nepalnews.com/" target="_blank">nepalnews.com</a>.&nbsp;

festivities

Exploring Nepal’s culinary diversity

Much more than dal bhat

DASAIN ONCE MORE

A new normal

Things eventually work out

My father’s son

Stages of denial