<img width="1500" height="1083" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a54889c7e80680e0523b4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Lee and Austin are brothers who don’t seem to have much in common. Austin is a cultured man with an Ivy League degree trying to make it as a screenplay writer. Lee is a wanderer who lives in the shadows. But when they come together in a difficult situation, it seems they are not different at all: each brims with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-roots-of-rape/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">toxic masculinity</a>.Nepal-based director <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2016/08/23/bhagvad-gita-as-opera/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Deborah Merola</a> has chosen to stage this Pulitzer-nominated 1980 play by American playwright Sam Shepard without translation or much adaptation. You can Google the plot, spoilers and all, but we are just going to tell you that Austin suddenly stands to lose his dreams, despite his superior education and manners. And Lee, though on the brink of gaining everything, knows he cannot make it without his brother’s refined education. And so the brothers blame each other for their plight and battle it out, with an alcoholic father and a passive mother added to the mix.Brothers envying one another is familiar to most of us: while Lee thinks that Austin — with his fancy degree and a foothold in Hollywood — is living the glamorous life, Austin thinks that Lee is a daredevil racking up new adventures every day.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/the-violence-of-violation/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The violence of violation</a>, Sewa BhattaraiThis intense drama simmers with an undercurrent of violence that threatens to explode. And sitting in the present, we cannot help remind ourselves of masculinity today — that however much things change, they remain the same. Lee’s desire to dominate everyone around him is an obvious example but so is Austin, whose manners are a mere veneer for what lies underneath.“This drama is relevant today in the era of Donald Trump, when toxic male machismo is on the rise,” Merola tells us after a rehearsal this week at Kausi Theatre.Perhaps because of its contemporary resonance, the drama is enjoying a revival today with a recent Broadway production starring Ethan Hawke and another starring <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/game-of-thrones-familiar-to-nepalis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Game of Thrones</a> protagonist Kit Harington. Set in the US 30 years ago, it is considered a quintessentially American play, but the cast here feel that it has universal resonance today.“We in Nepal think the grass is greener on the other side, and many of us go abroad with great expectations. But often what awaits is disillusionment,” says Divya Dev, who plays the younger Austin. Dreams can come crashing down any time and when that happens, Austin has nothing to hold on to, and reverts to base instincts.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/hop-over-the-gender-gap/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Hop over the gender gap</a>, Reeti K.C.Alejandro Merola, who is menacing as the older Lee, feels every well-written drama has a wide resonance. “The lone alcoholic who slowly drifts out of respectable social circles and lives a criminal life on the edges is a universal character,” he says. “The play reminds us that there is an increase in such characters today.”Eelum Dixit has a powerful stage presence as the easily manipulated producer Saul who doesn’t speak up against bullies, and Kurchi Dasgupta makes an impact as the lost, possibly depressed, mother who stays indifferent even as her sons fight. Divya Dev is at his best as the melancholy Austin, who appears a gentleman but is full of passive aggression. Alejandro Merola frightens us with his outright hostility until he makes an unbelievable transformation.The drama is a stark portrayal of the unrealistic standards of success that modern society demands, and of the loss of simplicity and innocence. We see these mores manifesting now in Nepal, as well. Says Kurchi Dasgupta, who plays the mother: “Even though it is set in a particular time and place and has a distinctly American feel, you can draw allegories to the current time.” True WestKausi Theatre, Teku6-15 Sept

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Replaying male machismo

<img width="640" height="417" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a35e09c7e80680e0482d4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><img width="640" height="461" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108111156/636a35e39c7e80680e0482d5jpeg.jpg" alt="">Every Monday morning for the next few months a lot of Nepalis young and old will be up early to watch tv. No, not for the Champions League, but for the latest episode of the last season of the<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0944947/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Game of Thrones.</a> Our own bloody history of palace intrigue and royal feud perhaps make Nepalis familiar with the conspiracies, back-stabbing, violence, and belief in the supernatural that are staple fare of the HBO series based on the novels of <a href="http://www.georgerrmartin.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">George RR Martin</a>. Those who think there is too much blood-letting, gratuitous gore, or an unrealistic plot only have to look back at Nepal's own history of massacres at the Kot, Bhandarkhal and Narayanhiti to know that the stuff is all too real. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.atavist.com/three-kings-in-four-days-nepal-massacre" target="_blank" rel="noopener">royal massacre of 2001</a> is still fresh in many minds, and would have made a great tv series to beat any melodrama that  Bollywood or Hollywood could concoct. We in Nepal may be ahead of the rest of the world in real-life bloodbaths, but are still behind in their artistic representation. That must be why we from the land of the erstwhile 24 Kingdoms take vicarious pleasure in bloody feuds in the 7 Kingdoms of Westeros. And if you miss the next episode (who wants to wake up at 6:45 AM?) there are plenty of cafes in town that have started holding screenings on Monday evenings, some free and some paid, where you can join fellow GoT addicts. There is nothing earth-shattering in the first episode of Season 8, in fact it leaves the viewer distinctly underwhelmed. There are some predictable meetings that flash back to Season 1 Episode 1 almost ten years ago. Sure, Jon gets on his dragon for the first time and flies off with Danaerys to romance in a mountain, and sure, Arya faces her captor The Hound, but there is nothing extra-dramatic or memorable. Especially after a searing end to Season 7, these plot lines barely create a ripple. That was perhaps to be expected of the first episode, however, because it is only setting the scene for the finale. The episode did have its moments: one of which was that Cersei, as usual, has a new lover, but this time her brother is not by her side to save her from her foolish dalliances. The fact that she orders her beloved (pun intended) brother Jaime killed is quite a shocker, even for Cersei. Meanwhile, the other queen Danaerys, known to flirt with women when she likes to, misses it badly this time, as she comes across a battle-hardened Sansa Stark whose looks belie her steeliness. The interaction between the two women, friendly up front but simmering with resentful sparks below, is something to behold. And this brings us to the crux of the finale, which has been plaguing fans for two blank years: what is going to happen now? You know it is the beginning of the end when the episode goes back to the very beginning, with a huge retinue marching into Winterfell. Nothing seems changed, and yet, everything has changed. The Starks are not the innocent fools they used to be, and yet, they continue to be noble fools. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlR4PJn8b8IGame of Thrones is famous for decapitations galore and moral ambiguity in a plot that is like a cross between Rana sibling infighting and The Sopranos. For the past few seasons, as the story focuses on the threat of the Night King's Army of the Whitewalkers, there have been clearer heroes and anti-heroes. Everything is looking good for Jon Snow, and the much admired Danaerys Targaryen. Is the show moving towards a typical happy ending after all?Viewers will also notice that the colour palette for this season is relatively muted. Blacks, grays, and the occasional white on Danaerys, but none of the vibrant blues of Margery or the flamboyant yellows of Ellaria. The colour range owes a lot to the fact that winter has come to the wintry north. But it also befits the sombre mood as the White Walkers' Army of the undead has finally broken through the magical ice wall. The costumes are stunning as usual, and there is much to enjoy visually, even apart from the drama. The revamped title sequence, for one, includes new locations, new stories, and interiors of the castles that we previously only saw from outside.The big reveal of the episode, Jon Snow's lineage, was not a big surprise to viewers at all, who have known for quite some time who he is. But finally, something has changed, and the next episode will hopefully see more action along these lines. All along, Jon Snow knew nothing, and now, he knows something.

Game of Thrones familiar to Nepalis

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21b69c7e80680e041753jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Photos: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Amrita Acharia arrived at the children’s shelter in Godavari on Friday morning wearing a pastel shawl with intricate woven patterns. When complimented, she replied with a smile: “This is Palpali Dhaka, we went all the way to Tansen to get it.”Daughter of a Nepali father and Ukrainian mother, the Game of Thrones actress is in Nepal after 16 years on a journey to reconnect with her roots, and a long-awaited to visit the <a href="https://www.chorachori.org.uk/">ChoraChori</a> children’s charity <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/amrita-acharia-in-charity-drive/">she is involved with</a>.ChoraChori rescues <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/runaway-boys-brought-home-to-%20Nepal,2950">trafficked Nepali children</a> from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2478#.XC9w9S0Q0Wq">circuses</a> as well as victims of rape and abuse in India, giving them skills-training, rehabilitating them, and reuniting them with families when possible. Acharia helps the UK-based charity with fundraising dinners and other promotional activities.After leaving Nepal at the age of seven, Acharia grew up in different parts of Europe and turned to acting. The HBO series Game of Thrones made her a household name seven years ago. She acted in the role of Irri, maid to the heroine Daenerys, in the show reputed to be the world’s most watched.“People get killed so easily in that show, I was lucky to have survived for two seasons,” she laughs.  “That was so long ago, but it was a good start for me. It opened the door for me to work in other shows.”Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/amrita-acharia-in-charity-drive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Amrita Acharia in a charity drive</a>After that, Acharia appeared in many British and Norwegian productions, and is currently busy as a doctor in Good Karma Hospital. She doesn’t know whether her father, a real-life doctor, finds her take on the medical profession convincing. “He enjoys it as a show, but he is also aware of the artistic liberties we take,” she says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21b99c7e80680e041754jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1148" height="1500">Good Karma Hospital is set in Kerala, but filmed in Sri Lanka. It was while on location there that she was reminded a visit to Nepal was long overdue both to see the land she grew up in, and also to visit ChoraChori.“I like how ChoraChori hosts children in a safe environment, provides them with education and skills, and makes them independent, and that is what drew me to help them,” she says. “A lot of people know me, and I want to use that fame to shed some light on the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepali-children-rescued-from-India,3618">issues of Nepal’s children</a> and the efforts by charities like ChoraChori to address them.”On this trip, Acharia also trekked to Ghandruk, visited Butwal, Bhairawa, and Arghakhanchi to meet her father’s side of the family. She does not remember the Nepal of her childhood much, and her impression of this trip is that Nepal is a little busier, but otherwise the same.Does it feel like home? “I have lived in so many places that I adapt easily,” she answers. “So I am always partly at home, and partly an outsider everywhere. In Nepal, I found there are still people who think of me as family. And that feels good.”Raised in Britain and Norway, Acharia calls herself multilingual and multicultural, but has not been typecast as someone from a minority community in films. She says: “I don’t look like a typical Asian. I could be cast as anything, from Caucasian to Latina to Asian. So being of mixed race is actually an advantage for me.”Acharia’s parents spoke to each other in Ukranian and Russian, so she lost touch with Nepali. But she says she enjoyed being immersed in Nepali everywhere on this trip. In Godavari, Acharia asked in halting, accented Nepali what the girls learnt in tailoring class.She has never watched a Nepali movie, but says she is open to acting in one if she likes the project. “But I do not like my voice to be dubbed, so I must first learn Nepali,” she adds in English. “Maybe next time I can answer your questions in Nepali.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101128/636a21bd9c7e80680e041755jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4000" height="3000">

Amrita Acharia comes home

<img width="1131" height="1700" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/6369349d9c7e80680e03e006jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>Game of Thrones actress Amrita Acharia has joined the online appeal for funds for the charity <a href="http://www.chorachori.org.uk/">ChoraChori</a> that has rescued 147 trafficked and displaced Nepali children from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/runaway-boys-brought-home-to-%20Nepal,2950">slavery and abuse</a> in India.The 31-year-old Nepali-Ukrainian actress is based in Norway and acted in HBO’s Game of Thrones, UK tv series The Good Karma Hospital, the Norwegian tv series Acquitted and in the forthcoming animation The Missing Link.Says Acharia: “My father was educated, and he made sure we were educated and taught self-respect. When we moved away from Nepal, it was that education that gave us stability and the chance to follow our dreams. I love it that ChoraChori works on empowering young girls after these experiences, and gives them tools rather than just rescuing and dumping them in an orphanage”.Acharia was born in Kathmandu but her family moved to England when she was seven and after spending some years in the Ukraine, attended High School in Norway where her father is an obstetrician. She is now looking forward to going back to Nepal after 16 years to visit ChoraChori’s facilities in Thaukel. <img width="750" height="744" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171136/6369349f9c7e80680e03e007jpeg.jpg" alt="">Most of the rescued children are boys whom ChoraChori has reunited with their families who hadn’t heard from the boys in years and had come to believe them to be dead. Most of the children had left home in search of work before being trafficked, were apprehended by the Indian authorities and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2478#.W_yxTy2ZMWp">later rescued</a> and brought back to Nepal.Some of the children were runaways from domestic abuse whom ChoraChori funds through vocational training and into good employment. ChoraChori last year <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepali-children-rescued-from-India,3618">rescued Nepali girls</a> from a notorious children’s home in Muzaffarpur where at least 34 residents were gang raped by care home officials and outsiders. These girls are currently supported at ChoraChori’s child trauma management centre alongside a growing number of domestic child rape victims.“We’ve only just begun” says ChoraChori Founder Lt Col (retd.) <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17939#.W_yxeS2ZMWp">Philip Holmes</a>. “We know that there are still scores of Nepali children trapped in Indian institutions and the Muzaffarpur case has brought into sharp focus just how dangerous these centres are for children.”With Brexit, ChoraChori is feeling the effects of a financial squeeze in the UK charitable sector. Which is why it is launching ‘The Big Give’ online Christmas appeal. For one week only from noon GMT on Tuesday 27 November, all online donations are automatically being doubled in value in the charity’s main annual fundraising drive.Says Holmes: “The truth is that some of the rescued children are so young that they even lack the vocabulary to describe what has been done to them. That is heart-breaking, but I have been encouraged and inspired by how ChoraChori-Nepal has risen to the challenge.”To see Amrita’s video appeal and donate to ChoraChori through The Big Give visit <a href="http://www.chorachori.org/">www.chorachori.org</a>

Amrita Acharia in charity drive

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

People like myself were too young during the decade of the Maoist War to remember its horrors. We often wonder what life was truly like back then. Perhaps the closest we have come to experiencing a national crisis of that scale – with the protests, violence, curfews, and political maneuvering – was the GenZ movement in September. How did people cope? What did they fear? What was it like in the cities and &nbsp;villages? How was it that the king still held so much power? What motivated the guerrillas? And, how did &nbsp;ordinary people adjust and endure the war? My curiosity about the war that ended 20 years ago &nbsp;was met with a rollercoaster of emotions with Monica Rana’s debut novel, The Paths We Choose. The novel is not a retelling of events from the vantage of leaders, rebels. It is not about the violence, but a carefully curated perspective of ordinary people caught up in it. It is a glimpse into how the war altered or defined their paths. This is the 'People’s War' from the people’s own perspective. Readers are immediately invested into the lives of two central characters, the sister duo, Sumnima and Rita. The elder radiating from the beginning with her brave and cunning aura, and the latter, more timid and obedient, much of her time absorbed in awe of her sister. The writer’s language flows as effortlessly as the sisters’ strides up the hills to steal mangoes from Dhire Dai’s trees, only to race back down to Rato Mato, carrying us through their journey into adolescence. Amidst the rolling hills, mango trees, life is filled with laughter, adventures, and everyday banter, scenes so serene that they carry an unsettling calm that hints at what lies ahead. Village life is not all painted in romantic hues. The stark reality of poverty, subsistence, and contrast with the comfort of city living are never far away. Amidst these reminders, there runs a humbling truth: happiness once rested on small things, not on the material excess that define urban life. As the pages turn, the title begins to resonate: two sisters, once bound by the same bloodline, shared dreams, and the same roof, are caught in the crosshairs of war and forced onto separate paths. One by choice, and the other by necessity. The story unfolds with the seasons: the relentless monsoon rains, the scorching heat of summer, and a liberating winter that carries bittersweet truths. The year is 2001, as the insurgency intensifies. Against this backdrop, the cousins’ lives diverge. Sumnima is drawn into the rebels’ ranks to 'fight for equality and freedom', while Rita is uprooted, carried across distances, and placed in Seto Bangala as a helping hand among the higher-ups, in her family’s desperate attempt to secure her a better life after their village is reduced to a 'ghost city' by violent attacks. There are betrayals and beginnings, high palaces and humble hills, royals and rurals, identity and ideology, loss and lament, distance and discovery. Through upheavals, tears, and struggles, one thing remains constant: both sisters wonder about the other. They care. They long to reconnect. They hold fast to the dream they once shared to open a guesthouse in their village someday. A dream to simply live with no fear. To be free. To be happy. And, to be together. The writing illuminates vital themes: innocent people caught up in strife, the vast chasm of class from royals dining on silver plates to villagers back home hiding their last grain to save it from looters. And discrimination so stark it was as if people carried labels on their foreheads, marked by caste, skin colour, and gender. The sisters eventually reunite, but their journey is not an easy one, and what lies ahead is far from the future either of them once imagined. One might romanticise it as fate, or might recoil at the harsh reality Monica Rana lays bare: it is often the innocent who bear the heaviest burdens of war. Civilians are trapped between warring sides, enduring hunger, displacement, and violence through no fault of their own. Wars continue to rage across the world. Though the novel does not particularly focus on exposing the horrifying depths of war crimes, it remains a timeless reminder of what the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once said: “The war will end, and leaders will shake hands. The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son. And those children will keep waiting for their hero father. I don’t know who sold our homeland, but I saw who paid the price.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The paths we choose book review"> </figure>

The war between people

There is nothing like an election to focus the minds of politicians. So, with less than three months to go for the 5 March political parties both new and &nbsp;old are in full preparation mode.&nbsp; The UML and the NC are following a two-pronged strategy: filing separate writ petitions in the Supreme Court for the reinstatement of the House even as they prepare for their general convention to decide on tickets for candidates. election. Following the alliance of Nepal’s left-aligned parties into the new Nepali Communist Party, the RSP and Bibeksheel parties have also joined forces. “Old political parties that were supposed to defend democracy are themselves hegemonic, oligarchic, and exclusive, and patriarchal, and the only strong voices inside political parties seem to be coming from women like Binda Pandey, Usha Kiran Timilsina and Sumana Shrestha,” says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal.&nbsp; She adds: “These parties are responsible for Nepal’s political decay, and there is little hope they will mend their rent-seeking ways and become more democratic and egalitarian.” The new post-September political parties are trying to change that perception by projecting themselves as reform minded and clean, and navigating the dynamics of election preparation. There are over 800,000 new young voters, and their ballots will be a key determinant in the outcome in March. Only a few youth leaders have formed their own parties, others are trying to decide which party to team up with. Others have partnered with career politicians who left their mainstream outfits out of frustration with their leaders.&nbsp; “The newly-formed parties are relatively more inclusive, but they are also led by strongmen,” says Pyakuryal. “It remains to be seen how long we can sustain democracy if our only choices are these personalities.”&nbsp; Activist Ojaswee Bhattarai is part of the five-member chair council of the Pragatishil Loktantrik Party launched by former Maoists Baburam Bhattarai and Janardan Sharma. Other members in the council include youth leader Ashok Jaiswal, Durga Sob, formerly of the Nepal Samajwadi Party, former RSP chief whip Pariyar, and another ex-Maoist leader and minister Sudan Kirati.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211151216_fe46c9dde8ca8680a2264e9cb3340cd005d2f1464e2893b99121cab2cdd99e6b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211151216_fe46c9dde8ca8680a2264e9cb3340cd005d2f1464e2893b99121cab2cdd99e6b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ government agreement"> </figure>  Bhattarai told a roundtable last week: “The movement exposed youth exclusion from decision making and resistance of political leaders, who themselves have been part of Nepali politics since their youth, to make space for a new generation.”&nbsp; She added: “It is now crucial for young people to come forward and seek leadership positions, and take part in a process that has so far been limited to the political elite.” It remains to be seen whether seniors in politics want to genuinely do a better job, or if they are simply looking for opportunities that were denied them in their old parties.&nbsp; And not everyone is happy with older leaders pretending that they are with the youth.&nbsp; Janardan Sharma, who left the Maoists after falling out with his former comrade Pushpa Kamal Dahal was heckled this &nbsp;week in his home district of Rukum West. Although there is a youth wave, the three mainstream parties still have their ballot banks among older rural voters. And even in the cities, the disparate new parties and young candidates may dilute the vote allowing the established parties to retain their foothold.&nbsp; Without a clear agenda, ideology, and institutional know-how, the new parties either risk being a flash in the pan or lose momentum after initial success.&nbsp; “There is a huge opportunity for these new parties to onboard young political figures to push the agendas of young and marginalised Nepalis,” says Pyakuryal. “These new parties will also have a better chances in the polls if they unite under a single banner.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211151216_8126915535a657004bf730b4df98096d1dbaea26959160614b121a96bc660d1c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251211151216_8126915535a657004bf730b4df98096d1dbaea26959160614b121a96bc660d1c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ government agreement"> </figure>  Former RSP minister Sumana Shrestha is yet to join any political party, but was present at the launch of the Ujyalo Party last week. She also urged new political actors emerging from the September movement to unite.&nbsp; “Not working together will be like rolling out the red carpet for old parties,” she said. There is anticipation about what plans Shrestha and Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. Also closely watched are emergent figures like Birendra Basnet of Buddha Air, who may be keeping his options open for candidacy through the &nbsp;Gatishil Loktantrik Party he recently formed.&nbsp; Basnet has put forward a strategy to overhaul the aviation sector as a metaphor for a new vision so Nepal can take off &nbsp;in future.&nbsp; Kulman Ghising has faced some criticism for launching his Ujyalo party while still serving in the interim Cabinet. He is reportedly planning to resign as the election approaches to declare his candidacy.&nbsp; Says Pyakurel: “Any new leader who contests the election needs to have political acumen as well as a strong sense of responsibility and ethical accountability, not just charisma. They will need to approach Nepal’s socio-political and economic needs in a more technical, less political manner as they put forward their ideas of reforms before voters.”&nbsp;

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