<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636baced9c7e80680e077f60jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>A milieu-matching restaurant on Freak Street from Desmond Doig’s book My Kind of Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure>Perhaps it’s the reflective, introspective mood brought on by the lockdown, or the re-examination of history as we seek to define Nepal’s border limits, but the media has recently seen considerable nostalgic chatter about the distant days when <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-gangster-of-love/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-gangster-of-love/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316531000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHRPD2GXfM-mgsEKKzI-MEOmlNgvw">Kathmandu was a hippie haven.</a>The freedom of the well-worn Hippie Trail of the early 1970s, overland from Istanbul to Kathmandu, seems unimaginable in today’s world of COVID-19 travel restrictions – during this pandemic we can only dream of the joys of the open road.From the mid-1960s, hordes of hippies in search of Shangri-La bussed or hitchhiked through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India before culminating in our Valley paradise, the end of the road. They came in tens of thousands pursuing enlightenment, preaching peace, finding themselves, escaping conformity, defying convention or fleeing the Draft, packed into gaudily-painted combis, busses and trucks resonating with Bob Dylan and Van Morrison.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Grass is greener in Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clothed-in-cannabis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Clothed in cannabis</a>, Pema SherpaConstrained by centuries of insecurity and conflict, the turbulent regimes along their overland route learned little from their legacy, persisting in more war than peace, more hate than love. Coinciding with the Haight-Ashbury movement, the respite in hostilities presented a brief window of opportunity. Seldom has this section of the Silk Road been safe for travellers to transit since Marco Polo passed this way, protected by the Mongol Khan’s engraved tablet laissez passez.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacf19c7e80680e077f61jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Back in London, the ebullient <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tony.jones.77312477" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.facebook.com/tony.jones.77312477&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316532000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEIPvciE8HtjuhYtJN5Oig4vOX_dw">Tony Jones</a> was one of the first to capitalise on the trend, organising truckloads of punters to drive to Kathmandu in his specially converted Encounter Overland vehicles. Keen to know more, one spring morning over a decade ago, I sat on a yellow cushioned cane chair in the garden of a dilapidated homestead just outside Nuwakot. The neat rows of vegetables and ranks of blossoming fruit trees in the orchard reflected Tony’s British army background.Long since settled in Pokhara, Tony was in the process of rebuilding what became the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/buzz-drive-through-nepal-dasain,746" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/buzz-drive-through-nepal-dasain,746&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316532000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG3I2HbjDFnVysMk6Nm211g_wEg_g">Famous Farm</a>, twinned with his game-changing Old Inn which he had cleverly and carefully restored in the centre of Bandipur, the original inspiration of the tourist rehabilitation of that by-passed Newar trading town. Tony and his team pioneered rural heritage accommodation in historic village houses.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/feeling-groovy" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Feeling groovy</a>, Lucia de Vries<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The unsuccessful hippie</a>, Lisa Choegyal“There’s a good chap, do get a move on, chito chito!” Tony Jones was hanging off a carved balcony of the rambling Newar farmhouse, waving his hammer and yelling at Laxman who laboured up the narrow staircase under a pile of wooden planks. Grinning, Laxman dumped them noisily on the exposed beams at Tony’s feet. Together, they laid and nailed them into place. Puffing with exertion, Tony continued to mutter in Nepali interspersed with English cockney expletives.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacf39c7e80680e077f62jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1082" height="754">[caption id="attachment_50470" align="alignnone" width="1082"]<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacf59c7e80680e077f63jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1082" height="796"> The Famous Farm was conceived and restored by Tony Jones in an old homestead outside Nuwakot. Photos: THE FAMOUS FARMDistracted by the hammering but enjoying the banter, his wife and I shared a companionable pot of tea. I wanted to know more about managing the logistics of those unique overland operations, plus Rinchen was planning a big drive from UK to Mongolia in a beat-up old car.“Two pieces of advice for your son driving to Ulaanbaatar. First is be careful not to cross the Thames too many times as you leave London – most of my drivers got lost on their way to Folkstone before even reaching the English Channel!” Tony has a deep deprecating laugh, his eyes glazing as he remembered those far off days despatching truckloads of eager overlanders.“And never be the last in a convoy of vehicles! Fatal.” Which is exactly what happened to Rinchen when his engine flooded going through a river on the edge of the Gobi Desert and he sat powerless and increasingly desperate whilst his mates disappeared over the sandy horizon – but that’s another story.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/hippinis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Hippinis</a>, Lucia de Vries<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/freak-me-out/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Freak me out!</a>, Marty LoganThe Hippie Trail’s terminus was <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/feeling-groovy" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/feeling-groovy&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316532000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEYph3yiqQWjLMwxU3SYVMDZpMP7w">Jhochen, Freak Street</a> and I arrived there from the opposite direction towards the end of their era in March 1974. Have travelled from Bali by train through Malaysia and Thailand, my first glimpse of the then-emerald Valley was through the grimy windows of a United Burma Airways plane from Yangon. As we circled over the rice terraces, the afternoon sun glinted off the golden spires of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/circumambulating-with-swayambhu-billy,2193" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/circumambulating-with-swayambhu-billy,2193&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316532000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGpXV9XSuoiwl5CWeXAEWRisLK0vw">Swayambhu</a> and the white dome of Bodnath flashed beneath us.The long-haired, beaded, colourfully-clad, chillum-toting hippies thronging the medieval streets of Basantapur when I first arrived in Kathmandu were no doubt free spirits, dropping out and hanging loose. Joints were rolled openly on table tops, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-grass-is-greener-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1594612316532000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEfvZdZiu-dZXiGinxGPp1pxaq0VA">ganja was legal</a> and hashish-laced cookies featured on menus in the cafes, restaurants and pie shops blaring western music that had flourished to cater to their alternative needs.More interested in getting high and higher trekking than tripping, I soon grew impatient with the smoke-blurred far-out cross-legged posturing, checked out of my six-rupee a night City Lodge, and headed for the hills.But it is simplistic and misleading to say hippies came to Nepal only for the dope. They were also tuned in to the chilled Himalayan hospitality, timeless culture, spiritual vibes, temple bells, chanting monks and exotic mountain mystery that the remote Kingdom offered in spades. They perched picturesque on the pyramid steps to witness Newar festivals and religious ceremonies, admired rooftop sunsets on the pink peaks, and pottered the streets amidst the ancient rituals of daily worship.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacf79c7e80680e077f64jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1498" height="1006"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacfa9c7e80680e077f65jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="886" height="761">Between the cycle rickshaws, tiger taxis, lounging bulls and grazing goats, their dusty decorated vans parked on palace cobbles or unmade bazaar lanes – the few other vehicles of the 1970s were UN-emblazoned SUVs, black palace limos with tinted windows, and the occasional vintage car carried in for the Ranas.The demise of Kathmandu’s hippie scene was not only precipitated by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ-ER0GdJd8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">President Nixon’s global crusade against drugs</a> that leveraged Nepal’s leaders to ban cannabis, marijuana and the harder stuff, but more that King Birendra wanted the Valley tidied up prior to the arrival of royal guests and world dignitaries for his lavish state coronation. By the time he and the Queen swayed down a spotless Durbar Marg on their jewel-encrusted elephant on the auspicious date of 4 February 1975, their death knell had sounded, visitor visas had evaporated and the hippies had departed.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141136/636bacfd9c7e80680e077f66jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="706" height="1064"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>When I came back in late 1975, only the hard-core were still to be found in Nepal – explorers, entrepreneurs, art dealers, dreamers, poets and devout students of Hindu and Buddhist philosophy. Many returned later in life with respectable friends and families to holiday in the ultimate destination of their errant youth. Thus the hippie subculture usefully kick-started Nepal’s nascent tourism with both American dollars and an enduring flower-power image.And some are still here to this day, including Tony Jones and myself, although neither of us would consider ourselves successful hippies. We just happened to be around at the time.

Lisa Choegyal

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Hippie Trail nostalgia in Kathmandu

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f4d9c7e80680e03c09cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2902" height="2223"/>The third edition of Nepal’s international <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Photo-Kathmandu-in-Patan,2669" target="_blank" rel="noopener">photography festival</a> is all set to kick off on Friday for a month-long festival of images. As a sign of the times, the shows will zoom in on gender, identity, as well as explore how patriarchy and sexuality affect power dynamics in societies around the world.This year, the extravaganza of images will spill over beyond <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/Patan-town-as-a-museum-piece" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Patan </a>to Kathmandu. The walls and alleyways of the two cities are once again plastered with photographs, projections, murals in preparation for the shows, exhibits, panel discussions and installations. They will use the visual medium to bring together the city and its citizens, join its past with its present and future, and connect it all to the outside world.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f509c7e80680e03c09djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">“This year Photo Kathmandu is curating works on gender, power, identity, patriarchy and sexuality through its exhibitions,” says festival director Nayantara Gurung Kakshapati.Read Also: '<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14825&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hippinis</a>', Lucia deVries'<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14836&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Gangster of Love</a>', Lucia de VriesThe festival will be inaugurated by Minister for Women, Children and Senior Citizens Tham Maya Thapa on 12 October. There are 14 print exhibitions, four slideshow nights, 17 talks by artists and panel discussions, and eight workshops and exchanges, and mixed media residency programs. This year <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/photography-festival,3322" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Photo Kathmandu</a> will also host a South Asia Incubator program. The media residency is a platform where artists will work for a month on individual projects to showcase it at the end.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f549c7e80680e03c09ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">More than 90 national and international artists, including photographers, curators, editors, writers from 25 countries are taking part in the festival which the organisers estimate will get half a million visitors. Artists and photographers from Italy, Germany, Bangladesh, India, United Kingdom, South Africa, USA, Hong Kong, Cambodia, Finland, Iran, Spain, Turkey, Canada, and Pakistan will be exhibiting.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f579c7e80680e03c09fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="631" height="443">Kakshapati adds: “This year <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/mycity/2015/11/04/photo-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Photo Kathmandu</a> is more focused on the process than the product itself." There will be a month-long mixed-media residency with Indian curator and art writer Veerangana Kumari Solanki and Nepali artist Sujan Chitrakar who oversee artists work together. Other artists include Nhooja Tuladhar and Bandana Tulachan from Nepal, Marco Panzetti and Valentina Abenavoli from Italy, Pakistan’s Fiza Khatri, and Ilgin Denix Akseloglu from Turkey who will delve into the intersection of photography, video, stage performance.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f599c7e80680e03c0a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The ‘Multimedia Storytelling and Web Documentary’ workshop by Uwe H Martin and ‘The Self and Representation’ workshop by Robin Hammond are highlights of this year’s festival. UK-based artist Robin Hammond is also exhibiting ‘Where Love is illegal’ creating a space for LGBTQI+ participants to share stories of discrimination and survival. There are also shows in Freak Street showcasing images and stories from <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/hippinis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the hippie era</a>.The month long Photo Kathmandu festival creates space for conversation with people around the world with multiple exhibitions, collateral events, workshops, public programs and much more.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Philip-Blenkinsop-and-Tuomo-Manninen-in-Photo-Kathmandu,2682" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Real people, real lives</a> , Hannan Lewsley<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f5d9c7e80680e03c0a1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">

Monika Deupala

Photo returns to Kathmandu

<img width="3592" height="1975" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f6c9c7e80680e03c0a6jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>When Nepal became a destination for overland travelers in the 1960s, one young man was ready: Trilochan Shrestha, probably Nepal’s first <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/feeling-groovy" target="_blank" rel="noopener">hippie</a>. Born in 1945 as the oldest son to a wealthy Newar family, he grew up in Jhhochen where his aunt lived. Trilochan used to skip school to swim in the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/encounter-with-bagmati-river" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Bagmati </a>at Pashupati, and it was there that he met the Aghori Babas, a cult of Shaivite ascetics. They took him under their wing, and inspired the young boy to grow his hair and to smoke. “I was always an overexcited child, nowadays I would be diagnosed with ADHD. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=879#.W78dD3szbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ganja </a>helped a lot, it cooled me down. For me, it is a herbal medicine,” says Trilochan, who easily connected with the overland travelers.“I was a hippie before the word was invented. Hippies are the babas of the twentieth century. I simply loved them.”Read also: '<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14825&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hippinis</a>', Lucia De VriesWith his Mediterranean complexion Trilochan was often mistaken for a Westerner, and the western hippies in Jhochhen were intrigued by his ability to light a chillum. “You smoke like a chimney,” they told him admiringly. Trilochan’s first hippie friend was Eight Finger Eddie, an American bohemian who is credited with popularising Goa as a tourist destination. Trilochan started living with overland travelers in Kimdol below Swayambhu, cultivating three longterm relationships with Western women, with whom he fathered two children. Trilochan tried various <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Store-drugs-lead-addicts-to-street-drugs,3201" target="_blank" rel="noopener">drugs</a>, starting with LSD and magic mushrooms, got addicted to coke but managed to kick the habit. Read also:  '<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14813&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Photo returns to Kathmandu</a>', Monica Deupala <img width="640" height="634" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f709c7e80680e03c0a7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="640" height="924" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f739c7e80680e03c0a8jpeg.jpg" alt="">In 1970 Trilochan and his Spanish partner Curry Ojeda opened Ying Yang Restaurant in Jhochhen. An artist at heart, he created an unforgettable design with drapes, funky lights, and the best sound system in town. “Ying Yang was a magic place, it was the only club in Nepal at the time and it had a view on the old palace and the souvenir market. It became <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3761#.W78ZCnszbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Freak Street’s</a> main meeting point and I was somehow in the middle of it all,” Trilochan recalls.‘On cleverly devised, carpeted levels and in an atmosphere of vermillion, and gilded gloom, seekers of bliss drift through before dinner beers, meals and after-dinner joints,’ wrote Desmond Doig about the place. At Ying Yang, people could dance any time of the day and stay late. The place never seemed to close, remembers a regular, Susan Burns: “Trilochan had all of us trapped in there.”Trilochan used to invite <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.15px;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4446#.W78ZjXszbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Pashupati sadhus</a> and beggar children to the restaurant to give them free food. When Trilochan registered the Ying Yang he put Jhochhen as its location, with ‘Freak Street’ in brackets – immortalising the name. He says: “I was a freak myself, so I figured it was a good name. I never thought it would become so popular.”  Trilochan feels hippies have been misunderstood, and were not given due credit. He says: “Freak just means ‘different’. We are all born freaky, but society wants to put us in a box. Hippies just want to get out of the box and create a peaceful, creative society.”  Trilochan went on to become a successful tourism entrepreneur, but also a black sheep of his family. “It was painful to listen to people criticising me for being a hippie who ruined the family reputation. What did they expect? That I would drive a Rolls Royce and live an artificial life?” In 1976, under pressure from the US government, Nepal banned the use and sale of marijuana. Trilochan started a campaign to revoke the decision, and was arrested with 30 other families. Although no drugs were found on him, Trilochan spent seven years in prison.  <img width="3499" height="2333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f769c7e80680e03c0a9jpeg.jpg" alt="">When he came out, the scene had changed, marijuana had been replaced by hard drugs like ‘brown sugar’ and heroine. A new breed of travelers started coming, but they went to Thamel. Trilochan went back to Pashupati and reconnected with his sadhus. He still lives ‘the baba life’ and practices sun meditation, which he considers to be his new ‘drug’. Despite suffering two strokes, he still visits trance parties, dancing all night. “Sometimes I look at myself and I think: Wow, beautiful, the child in me is still intact. I remain a gangster of love,” says the aging hippie. “I feel blessed having met many beautiful souls from all over the world. They taught me wonderful things.”  Trilochan Shrestha's photo collection is featured in ‘Something Big and Glorious and Magnificently Insane’ exhibition as part of the Photo Kathmandu festival in Jhochhen, 12 October-16 November.Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/feeling-groovy" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Feeling groovy</a>, Lucia de Vries <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7121#.W8COx_nBWUl" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Not so freaky anymore on Freak Street</a>, Alok Tumbahangphey<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/circumambulating-with-swayambhu-billy,2193" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Circumambulating with Swayambu Billy</a>, Lucia de Vries <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Philip-Blenkinsop-and-Tuomo-Manninen-in-Photo-Kathmandu,2682" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Real people, real lives</a>,  Hannan Lewsley

The Gangster of Love

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

You do not have to be a climate expert or atmospheric pandit to claim that Nepal is not pulling its weight on the grand narratives of the Anthropocene. As a heavily populated ‘country-on-an-incline’ from the Tarai to the Himalaya, Nepal is a thermometer of global warming.&nbsp; Its people are human witnesses to environmental and climate breakdown, but remain mute observers to the unfolding crises. Nepal should be leading the pack at the COP30 climate conference in Belém, backed by science and lived experience. But it is doubtful that two of the most crucial climate-related subjects central to the culture, economies and human wellbeing in the Himalaya and South Asia will be discussed at the summit that started this week in Brazil.&nbsp; The first topic that should be raised at COP is Black Carbon or the South Asian Brown Cloud, made up of tiny suspended particles in the air. This is not just a transboundary health hazard, there is now enough science to make the case that Himalayan snowmelt is accelerated significantly by the albedo effect that makes ice melt faster because of reduced reflectivity. But Kathmandu has not been able to make governments near and far listen. In 2014, I wrote a short piece published in Outlook magazine explaining why India’s Prime Minister Modi looking northward from a SAARC Summit retreat in Dhulikhel was unable to see the Jugal Himal range barely 30km away. His view was obscured by the pollution layer arriving from as far away as Lahore with substantial contribution from the Delhi region. That summit itself was an opportunity for Nepal to inform the Indian and Pakistani prime ministers that much of the haze, smog, dust and soot that settles on our slopes was generated in Sindh, Punjab, Punjab, Haryana, Western UP and Delhi NCR, carried by prevailing westerly winds up to the Himalaya. The forest fires within Nepal as well as Kathmandu Valley’s pollution contribute to the haze, but the shroud that suffocates the region through autumn, winter and spring is mostly transnational. Last year, these anthropogenic fine aerosols actually curled over the Bay of Bengal and invaded the airspace of Sri Lanka and Maldives.&nbsp; Even as the soot particles accelerate glacial melt and impact everything from infrastructure to public health, the most visible effect is on tourism. Nepal’s economic future is based on tourism, and much of this relies on being able to see the snow mountains. Why should travellers go to Pokhara if they cannot see the Annapurnas?&nbsp; Hoteliers in Nagarkot have started a campaign: ‘Visit Nagarkot 2025: More than Sunrise and Sunset’. While clever, the slogan is a response to the acclaimed Himalayan vista from Everest to the Annapurnas from the hill station, now obscured by the brown curtain of haze for most of the year. As the bellwether country of South Asia when it comes to the climate crisis, Nepal must build diplomatic confidence to reach out to the governments of Pakistan and India even in their present state of antagonism. Kathmandu must launch ‘haze diplomacy’ for its own sake and for the region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="695" loading="lazy" alt="permafrost"> </figure>  IMPERMANENT FROST&nbsp; Permafrost is understood mostly as a phenomenon of the Arctic, Antarctica, Siberia and Alaska. Mountains elsewhere did not figure, though it was natural for the ground to freeze all year round at high altitudes.&nbsp; In the Himalaya, besides the snowfields and glaciers, frozen moisture binds rocks and stabilises slopes. But global warming is melting the permafrost that used to cement mountain flanks, including boulders, sand and scree slopes. Some of the debris (गेग्रान) did tumble down, but much of it remained entombed on high, thanks to permafrost. Pokhara Valley and the Seti River reaching all the way up to the base of the Annapurnas, is the best place to observe this dance of geology between gravity and the mountain range. Rubble from the collapse about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">700 years ago of paleo-Annapurna IV </a>created the sediment field on which Pokhara is situated today. However, much of the debris from the crumbled mountain is still lodged up on and around Annapurna IV, but the binding is loosening with the warming earth. A <a href="https://www.icimod.org/event/analysing-permafrost-in-the-hindu-kush-himalaya-using-open-access-tools/">2024 report by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a> indicates that global warming is thawing the permafrost across High Asia. Among the unintended consequences of climate breakdown is that mountains and moraines are collapsing, with <a href="https://www.icimod.org/press-release/everest-region-a-hotspot-of-cryosphere-linked-hazards-icimods-new-study-on-nepals-2024-thame-flood-confirms/">cascading impact</a> that includes glacial lake outburst floods, reduced groundwater recharge as well as winter flow in the Ganga, Indus and Brahmaputra. No one has calculated the total volume of rubble locked in by permafrost across the Himalaya. Despite the increased risk, there is accelerated construction of highways, hydropower projects, housing and tourism infrastructure across the Himalaya. While the COP conferences discuss rising oceans and receding glaciers (without doing much about it), Himalayan permafrost has been melting unremarked. In their path-breaking September 2024 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">article in Nepali Times</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and Alton C Byers argued that the extreme events of the past few years that led to mountain and moraine collapses, unleashing destructive debris flows downstream, were the result of melting permafrost. Haeberli and Byers suggest that the avalanches and floods including those of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti (2012)</a>, <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/understanding-the-chamoli-flood-cause-process-impacts-and-context-of-rapid-infrastructure-development/">Chamoli (2021)</a>, Birendra Tal (2023), <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2772883825000251">Sikkim (2023)</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">Thame (2024)</a>, <a href="https://himat.org/publication/byers-rockfall-induced-2019/">Barun (2017)</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">Melamchi (2021)</a> were the result of the thawing of frozen ground. They say that the collapse of the lateral moraine on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak glacial lake</a> in Sikkim on 4 October 2023 that swept away more than 100 people, destroyed the $1 billion Chungthang Dam as well as houses, roads and farms far downstream, was also caused by cloudburst on a lateral moraine that had lost its permafrost adhesive. There will be permafrost sceptics, as there have been climate change deniers. But it is time to wake up to the reality that the Himalayan peaks are no longer the immutable sentinels as regarded by humanity since prehistoric times.&nbsp; Modern society has pumped so much greenhouse gas into the atmosphere that now even the mountains are giving up. And we have not even begun to think about the bacteria and viruses locked away in the permafrost up the slope.&nbsp; Loss of permafrost adds to the cumulative impact of climate breakdown, including extreme weather events, drought and cloudbursts, heat waves in the plains affecting lives and livelihoods, creating mass migration, social unrest, and upending politics and geopolitics. The government and polity of Nepal have a duty to themselves and the larger humanity to wake up to the climate breakdown. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conclave organised by the Government in May failed to emerge as a pulpit for global warming and associated ills. Our political class, bureaucracy and academia should make up for lost opportunities to rise to the occasion and take the lead.&nbsp; Kanak Mani Dixit is writer, commentator and founding editor of Himal Southasian.