Last week was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/maha-shivaratri">Shivaratri</a>, and this week it is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/everyday-as-if-it-is-women-s-day">International Women’s Day</a> on 8 March. What better way to marry the two than to investigate Shakti, the feminine creative aspect of the universe.&nbsp; Shiva’s consort has many names: Parvati, Shakti, Durga, Uma, Gauri. She is the embodiment of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/midwives-to-the-rescue-in-nepal">motherhood</a>, love and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/future-proofing-nepal-s-population-strategy?s=04">fertility</a>, and she balances Shiva’s destructive attributes with creation.&nbsp; Alongside the triumvirate of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-hindu-gods-of-buddhist-thailand">Brahma the creator and Vishnu the preserver</a>, is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6983">Shiva the destroyer-creator</a>. He is the Lord of making things end so that the new can take their place.&nbsp; Hinduism may be perceived and practised as a multitheistic religion, but in its tenets, all is one, the gods and their many avatar are but different names given to the one truth of existence and reality. And in this, Shiva can be referred to as the Supreme Being. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tolerating-nepal-s-religious-tolerance">Tolerating Nepal’s religious tolerance</a>, Shekhar Kharel Shiva is considered masculine, and conceptualised as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/communicating-existence-through-art">pure consciousness</a> -- call it soul, transcendent spirit, whatever that exists beyond the material. Shakti is feminine energy and is a dynamic reality. The union of Shiva-Shakti symbolises creation and the coming together of male and female energy.&nbsp; One of the most sacred texts in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11957">Hinduism </a>is the Shiva Purana, and it describes Shakti as having a ‘parturient’ trait. Parturient is used to describe a woman in labour, so Shakti is thought of as fertile, and always on the verge of creation if the pure consciousness of Shiva wills something. This may seem to suggest that the feminine aspect is submissive and waiting for the masculine form to act and uphold the need for creation. But we have to see this as a human conceptualisation to make sense of our own existence and the need to explain reality.&nbsp; Another way to interpret the gendering could be that the masculine is not of much use if the feminine does not exist. In other words, what good would it be if there was nothing to be conscious of, and there was only a destroyer. It is the feminine form that holds the power of creation.&nbsp; Parvati may have been regarded as feminine because she creates, gives birth. And consciousness as masculine because of its association with Shiva, the yogi-ascetic.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-thousand-sadhus-and-a-hanuman">A thousand Sadhus and a Hanuman</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025030813038_5393d1feffb9952b8c3df26d0cd6142ffaef9cf503b163b0e866c478e64e0625.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025030813038_5393d1feffb9952b8c3df26d0cd6142ffaef9cf503b163b0e866c478e64e0625" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="Shiva"> <figcaption>This 12th century stele of Uma Maheswar depicting Shiva and Parvati was stolen from Tangal Hiti in Patan 45 years ago and returned to Nepal in 2018 from The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.</figcaption> </figure>  The Shiva Purana perspective is that both are balanced and the same, and neither can exist without the other.&nbsp; ‘Just as Shiva, so also the goddess. Just as the goddess so also Shiva. No difference shall be thought of between the two as between the moon and the moonlight’, says the text, which is part of the Shaivite literature corpus. In fact, the composite deity of &nbsp;‘Ardhanarishvara’ expresses precisely this union and can be translated as ‘the Lord who is half woman’. Ardhanarishvara is a depiction of a being that is split straight down the middle: the right half is traditionally Shiva with his masculine features and Nandi the bull consort, and the left side is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/swasthani-lecture">Parvati or Durga </a>with feminine traits and a tiger consort.&nbsp; “The paintings and statues of Ardhanarishvara show that Shiva and Shakti are both inseparable and the same,” explains historian and author Govinda Tandon.&nbsp; “This is all the Hindu concept of ekam sat vipra bahudha vadanti, that truth is one, but called by many names,” Tandon adds, pointing out that the the bull and tiger consorts co-exist in the divine pair, although they would be prey and predator, further reinforcing the concept that opposing characteristics can prevail in the same being.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/giving-a-face-to-a-deity">Giving faces to a deity</a>, Shaguni Singh Sakya The Shiva-Shakti postulation of the coexistence of opposites exists in other faiths as darkness giving way to light. It is an attempt to understand the universal truth that what appears to be antithetical are essential to reality, and meaningless without the opposite aspect.&nbsp; Other philosophies also share this understanding of dual oneness. Ancient Chinese belief systems came up with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=14536">Yin-Yang</a>, where Yin is receptive and dark, and Yang is active and bright, each containing a seed of the other.&nbsp; The message is not to rank one better than the other, but that maintaining a balance between the two is key to living in Tao, or the natural path of the universe.&nbsp; Western thinkers have also described the two as Chaos and Order, or Nature and Culture. Too much chaos, and nothing sustains itself (think <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">Nepal’s politics</a>). Too much order, and everything stagnates, like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-creeping-coup">in a dictatorship</a> where anything that deviates from the strict command is punished, and nothing truly new and revolutionary is allowed to foster. All of these ways to see the duality somewhat echo each other, although they may not be exactly the same. But what is common to all these ideas of Shiva-Shakti, Creation-Destruction, Ying-Yang, Light-Darkness, is the same overarching message: that both forces are inseparable and must exist in a cosmic dance for it to be optimal.&nbsp; Nataraja is another manifestation of Shiva, where he dances with wild abandon (Tandava), symbolising the creation and destruction of the universe. In Tantricism, creation follows destruction as Shiva and Shakti join in this union.&nbsp; This notion also aligns with the latest discoveries in<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17254"> astrophysics </a>of matter and antimatter, and the singularity in a black hole where time and space merge. The Shiva-Shakti duality can also be regarded as a singularity. A photon, for example, is a quantum of light and can be both a particle and a wave. In the ‘wave-particle’ duality, light can behave as a particle when hitting something, but act as a wave when travelling through space.&nbsp; Or, take the Observer Effect in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-destroyer-of-worlds">quantum physics</a>. Electrons fired at a card with two slits will behave like waves, creating ripple patterns beyond the slits. But introduce a detector, and the electron behaves like a particle, the ripples disappear.&nbsp; Shiva is tangible reality, Shakti is pure energy. Some physicists who study sub-atomic particles say that the deeper they investigate, the more they begin to see the hand of a Supreme Being.&nbsp; The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-script-of-the-scriptures">scriptures</a> and their depictions of the divine transcend and exist in the everyday world around us. Evolution, for example, is possible because of natural selection through the act of reproduction, the fusion of gametes from two parents that creates the genetic variation so they can ‘be fruitful and multiply’.&nbsp; Govinda Tandon used to be the chair of the Pashupati Area Development Trust committed &nbsp;to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-nepal-s-conservation-heroes">managing and conserving</a> the temple dedicated to the benign manifestation of Shiva, one of the holiest Hindu shrines in the world.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-healer-of-pashupati">The healer of Pashupati</a> The temple itself is regarded as the site where Shiva and Parvati once took the form of antelopes on the forested banks of the Bagmati. For Tandon, there is a strong message from the divine union of Shiva-Shakti, Uma-Maheswar, Gauri-Shankar, Shiva-Parvati: “The masculine and feminine principles existing in the same form as equals should inspire us. Societies, families work best when men and women respect each other as equals. One complements the other.”

Vishad Raj Onta

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

The sacred female energy of Shakti

<figure><img width="755" height="814" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a96159c7e80680e05dc49jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>The cover of Nepali Times Issue 478 (27 Nov-3 Dec 2009)</figcaption></figure>Mahagadimai Municipality of Bara district is preparing for an influx of millions of visitors next month for the practice of mass animal sacrifice that has <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Overkill-in-Gadhimai,1794">tarnished Nepal’s image</a> as a peaceful and compassionate nation.The little town of Bariyapur has gained international notoriety for the Gadimai Mela, where pilgrims from India and Nepal who have had their wishes fulfilled congregate every five years to offer mass animal sacrifice in gratitude. But the blood-letting has also sparked outrage and activists worked to get Nepal’s Supreme Court to rule against the wanton killings in 2016. "There are so many animals, and many are not even beheaded cleanly because the knives are blunted by the mass slaughter. Sometimes they have to hack the animal many times, and the animals take hours to die,” says media personality Saroj Nyaupane, who co-filed the writ petition at the Supreme Court with advocate Arjun Kumar Aryal.Nyaupane adds: “The animals are not even being killed for food. Nepalis take great pride in the Buddha being born in Nepal but such cruelty is against Buddhist principles.”Despite the court ruling, the government has not banned the practice. Bara's Chief District Officer Phanindra Mani Pokhrel told Nepali Times his administration is trying its best to discourage the sacrifices.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://time.com/3609356/the-worlds-largest-animal-slaughter-festival-has-begun-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The World's Largest Animal Slaughter Festival Has Begun in Nepal</a>  <figure><img width="896" height="1280" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181144/636a96189c7e80680e05dc4ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>"We have held discussions, and spread the message discouraging animal sacrifice through local radio and newspapers. But we cannot suddenly stop it right now. Activists also need to work on it constantly rather than just before the festival," Pokhrel said. Mahagadimai Municipality is preparing in earnest for the festival scheduled to begin 3 December. Mayor Shyam Yadav says tents are being erected and toilet facilities built for the huge influx of devotees and their animals. In 2014, there were an estimated 6 million visitors, and roughly 250,000 water buffalos and goats killed.  This time, fewer animals are expected to be killed because of court decisions in India and Nepal and growing public awareness. Activists have raised issues of not just <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.15px;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16522">animal cruelty</a>, but also the lack of visitor accommodation, environmental impact, hygiene, pollution and the health and condition of the animals. This year, the government and the Gadimai Operation and Development Committee have promised to take care of these issues. In earlier years, the Chamar community used to consume the dead buffaloes, but younger members of the community are boycotting the meat this year. Says Dalit activist Manoj Ram: "It's not just about the meat, but also self respect. Society looks at us with distaste because we eat leftover sacrificed buffalos. We want to stop that.”Legend has it that the Gadimai Mela started about 200 years ago when a man sacrificed five drops of his own blood to the goddess for a fulfilled wish. Over the years people substituted defenceless animals for human blood.The temple committee has refused to budge on the practice despite the outrage in Nepal and globally. "We do not sacrifice animals-- people come from far away bringing their animals. If they are not able to fulfil their vow, their faith is broken, and we cannot have that,” says Ram Chandra Sah of the temple committee.The temple's chief priest Mangal Chaudhary adds that it is not necessary to sacrifice animals. "YOu can just as well sacrifice a coconut, or offer flowers and swets to the goddess," he says in an interview with Bloodless Gadhimai campagin.While activists say the festival has <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2014/11/17/no-sacrifice-gadhimai-nepal/">brought shame on Nepal</a>, the temple is proud that it has put Gadimai on the world map. Devotees see criticism of the festival as an attack on Hinduism, and accuse western activists of double standards for not being outraged when millions of turkeys are killed at Thanksgiving. Frensh actress Brigitte Bardot and British actress Joanna Lumley have spoken out against it, earning the festival further notice and international criticism.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://edition.cnn.com/2014/11/29/world/asia/nepal-gadhimai-ritual-slaughter/index.html?fbclid=IwAR2uv0d-6x-e-CRFJRl6qyI2fXlVqkK1edzgsfNMg2QoXKf6Ejzlvz4dD_Y" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Death and the goddess: The world's biggest ritual slaughter</a>Yet, the strongest voices against the bloodletting are from Hindus, themselves who say the festival is not an ancient tradition and not deeply rooted in religion. Animal rights activist Pramada Shah says the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-sacrifice-of-animal-sacrifices/">sacrifices</a> go against religious teachings.She says: "They are done in the name of religion. But Hinduism does not teach people to torture animals. It is religious malpractice, like sati and untouchability, and we need to reform it. The Supreme Court decision is not enough. We need stronger laws, and an effective awareness campaign among communities who practise it."

Activists decry animal slaughter at Nepal temple

Sha Bahadur Gurung was 30 years old when he was arrested for participating in a peaceful protest. He died aged 65 last week in Bhutan’s Chamgang Central Prison. He was among 31 prisoners of conscience in Bhutan, many of whom are serving long sentences for opposing the regime’s forcible expulsion of 100,000 of its Lhotsampa people in the early 1990s. ‘Mr Gurung died on 15 December in his prison cell under circumstances that raise serious concerns about custodial negligence and long-term abuse,” said a statement by the Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) based in The Hague which demanded an external probe, justice and release of remaining political prisoners. Gurung was from Chirang and was arrested in 1990 while serving in the Royal Bhutan Army, and accused of having sympathies for the Lhotsampa people. He was mostly held at the notorious Rabuna Prison in Wangdi Phodrang District.&nbsp; Gurung’s relatives in the United States said he had endured prolonged physical and psychological abuse during his imprisonment, and repeatedly subjected to torture and inhumane treatment. They believe the decades of ill-treatment had damaged his health, ultimately leading to his death. Earlier this month, Gurung was transferred from Rabuna to Chamgang Central Prison. On 14 December. He had gone to bed after dinner without any visible sign of distress. He was found unconscious in his cell the next morning.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224151248_5fc8305ecd320d89b9e343c04a1a897dc1353353da55b6d277f5398034b265ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="1103" loading="lazy" alt="Sha Bahadur Gurung NT"> <figcaption>Sha Bahadur Gurung, who died at age 65 in prison in Bhutan after serving 30 years for expressing political opinion.</figcaption> </figure>  He was referred to a hospital in Thimphu, suggesting that he was still alive during transfer to a local health post. But it appears that he had already died before being taken from prison. Gurung’s death occurred two days before Bhutan’s National Day on 17 December, when families, supporters, and human rights advocates worldwide had hoped for the release of political prisoners through a royal amnesty. Instead, the death of one of the longest-serving political prisoners has caused grief and anger in the Bhutanese diaspora.&nbsp; “We strongly condemn the treatment and death of Gurung, a peaceful and justice-loving Bhutanese citizen,” the V statement said. ‘This tragedy raises serious questions about the treatment of political prisoners in Bhutan and stands in stark contrast to the country’s international image under the principles of Gross National Happiness, compassion, and mindfulness.’ Earlier this year, The <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/special-procedures/wg-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention/opinions-adopted-working-group-arbitrary-detention-its-101st-session" target="_blank">United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the Bhutan government was detaining citizens without parole for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/detainees-in-dire-straits-in-bhutan-s-prisons" target="_blank">expressing political opinion</a>. The New York-based Human Rights Watch (HRW) said in 2023 that there were least 37 <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">political prisoners</a> in Bhutan’s jails. Of them, 32 belong to the Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa community, which has faced <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2003/06/18/nepal-bhutanese-refugees-rendered-stateless" target="_blank">decades of discrimination and abuse</a> and eviction. Most of them were convicted because of prohibited political activity between 1990 and 2008. One political prisoner, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-country-for-dissent?fbclid=IwAR07lpitMBWAYSkny_3d_smQBlmoxAOQm1OxdNtl-27h8mV0RNO9IxVY2qs" target="_blank">Madhukar Monger</a>, who was released in 2023 after serving 29 years described brutal conditions in <a href="https://www.hrw.org/asia/bhutan" target="_blank">Bhutan</a>'s jails. Political prisoners were not given enough food, and medical care, he said, urging the internaitoonal community to press for the release of prisoners of conscience.&nbsp; In March, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/meenakshi-ganguly" target="_blank">Meenakshi Ganguly</a>, Deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch, urged Bhutan’s international partners to call on the Bhutan government to release all remaining political prisoners immediately.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251224161216_9d11a78ed5490091c595341900e4c26f5c0dd0328718f6930ef19c1e9b7f95a6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1422" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251224161216_176855f3d3df42d24ac7e77372bbf49115695b732a6c094a66267e969111dfca" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1420" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan political prisoners NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

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

The sins of our mothers

Nepal’s Gurkha soldiers have a well-deserved reputation worldwide for uncommon valour and loyalty. However, what happened in Hawaii in 1986 and the long struggle for fair pay and pension shows that the formidable fighters from Nepal also do not tolerate injustice. The Hong Kong-based 1st Battalion of the 7th Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Gurkha Rifles was in Hawaii for jungle warfare training exercises at the Joint Pacific Multinational Readiness Center when they beat up their commanding officer, Major Corin Pearce. &nbsp;&nbsp; The Gurkhas said Pearce had insulted them, and 111 soldiers were dismissed. Pearce suffered broken ribs and a head injury, and was himself also discharged. The incident got worldwide publicity and enforced the belief that the Nepalis were not treated fairly in the British Army. It also led some retired soldiers to begin a decades-long struggle for compensation at par with their British peers.&nbsp; Retired British Gurkha soldier Shankar Rai in his book Triumph and Tears revisits the Hawaii incident which he witnessed, and also his experience in the Falkland Islands/Malvinas war in 1982.&nbsp; He has lots of grievances: unequal treatment and injustice from the British Army towards himself and his comrades. This is an indignant and disillusioned account of the good, the bad and the ugly of being a British Gurkha, which he says let him down despite his service and belief in it.&nbsp; The book could also be a cautionary tale of how one person on a power-trip can tarnish two centuries of the shared history of Nepal and the UK, as well as ruin the lives of those involved. It also is proof that loyalty should never be taken for granted. Four years after defeating the Argentinians in the Falklands, several companies and platoons of Gurkha rifles were stationed in Hawaii in 1986 for joint US-UK ‘Exercise Union Pacific’ military exercises. The goal was to ‘perfect the art of marine warfare in collaboration with the US Marine Force’. The rules were that a British Gurkha company commander needed to have the rank of major and pass a Nepali language test. Captain Pearce was the son-in-law of a British Brigadier on extra-regiment employment, and this rule was waived. He was appointed Acting Major. Pearce didn’t bother to learn Nepali language or culture, and from Rai’s account took every chance to belittle and embarrass the Gurkhas as poor, stupid, rude, backward, and lucky to be there. He writes: ‘After Captain Pearce reached Hawaii, he began to project himself as a master and the Gurkhas as servants, to show off to the Americans.’ The author also recounts other slights, such as only receiving a fourth of the rations they were due during hard training, being forced to train even when some of the soldiers had high fever, and claims to have ‘civilised’ the Nepalis.&nbsp; Pearce had been to eastern Nepal before the training and seen the grinding poverty. He kept telling the Gurkhas how lucky they were to be in the job, and that they were making ‘more money than Nepal’s prime minister’. During the final farewell party in Hawaii, Pearce set up tables to form a saluting platform, and asked the Gurkha pipe and drum band to march around him while playing. The enraged soldiers could not take it anymore, and after the party an inebriated group ran Captains Pearce and Chandra Kumar Pradhan out of their tents and beat them up. Both officers broke ribs, and the major needed 15 stitches on his head. ‘This sorry and unseemly episode is considered to have been entirely at odds with the Brigade of Gurkhas’ tradition of loyalty and gallant service in the British Army. It is regarded as an isolated and untypical event, which will not be permitted to detract from the high esteem in which the Brigade is held,’ reads the report of an investigation. Most of the 1/7 company soldiers were dismissed whether they had been involved in the assault or not. The author describes the shame that followed, with dismissed soldiers returning to Nepal with lost face.&nbsp; ‘I burned with humiliation, and life scared me,’ writes the author, whose father told him that he was ashamed to call him his son. ‘Many of my friends’ girlfriends left them and married other people. Rifleman Khem Gurung (21162015) of Itahari committed suicide,’ writes Rai, adding that those dismissed were blacklisted, and could not get other jobs.&nbsp; They tried to pursue legal action against the British Government, but backed down when they could not afford expensive hotshot lawyers, and would not have the money to cover the British government’s legal fees in the likely case of a loss in court. Gurkhas who had served for four years in the UK were allowed to move there, an option that many of those dismissed in the Hawaii incident took, including the author, who now lives in Oxford. Rai pours out his hurt and emotion in the book. Towards the end, he writes: ‘I depend on small jobs for livelihood. In the remaining time, I actively raise the issue of the victims of the Hawaii incident. We are burdened with insults, hatred, and contempt for a lifetime. It was harsher than a court martial, too heavy to bear.’ The is a slim book, and is a quick, engaging read of an incident 30 years ago, and Rai writes with a soldier’s precision. Even though the anger shows even after all these years, there is no over-dramatisation in the narrative.&nbsp; The first part of the book is about sailing across the South Atlantic in the QEII, which had been converted into a troop ship to take the Gurkhas to war. The soldiers from landlocked Nepal were mostly sea-sick, but were happy to get two cans of beer a day. Barclays Bank even had a branch on board. Rai’s descriptions of the friendships he developed in the Company and on the battlefield are poignant. They braved Argentinian bombs, dug trenches and fought through the rain in the Southern Hemisphere winter. There are vignettes of sharing tea with fellow Nepalis, seeing comrades fall, and finding pictures of wives and children in the pockets of dead young Argentine soldiers. Behind the prestige, honour and myths of being a Gurkha soldier, it seems this is just another job with nepotism, horrible bosses and bad pay. But such is the desperation that up to 20,000 young Nepalis still apply for 300 openings in the British Army every year. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251227041256_694a253e782c83b0bf89fc1b9840b0ade3f7beca2d0b01dbc4fcd3e63c207f50" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Triumph and tears book details NT"> </figure>

Not taking loyalty for granted

This is the 77th 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. I was in Grade 3 when my father left for Saudi Arabia. Letters he sent occasionally contained photos. We had to get used to matching the person in the photos with him when he came home. Over two decades later, I left behind my son a day after he was born to go to Korea.&nbsp; He was five when I returned, and he just could not believe I was the same person he spoke on video calls. To convince him that it was indeed me, I had to call him on video from the other room.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251224021240_3eead7a26ee34bab17e1b462d3e53ae8b4dc95151478e55b09f2855989364015" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Technology, it turns out, is no replacement to proximity and physical presence.&nbsp; When my father was in Saudi Arabia, my mother died. My father could not return to Nepal immediately, and my grandmother took in my two sisters and me.&nbsp; My studies took a hit. I started working in a shoe shop, and earned Rs2,100 a month. I wanted to start a shoe shop with support from my father when he returned. He did not, and neither did my other relatives. Perhaps they doubted my business sense. Or they had other priorities.&nbsp; Whatever it was, this feeling of not having someone to back me up hit me deeply but give me confidence. Without alternatives, I decided to prepare to migrate to Korea. I studied for the language exam and was among the first cohort under the G2G scheme. When I was finally matched with a Korean employer, I could not be happier.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251224021248_5f681863a9aa99f31f3241158e636b32aca9fdaa7c3f5c19dd67e3de2068a3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="823" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  Not having received any support from those around me, the Korean offer made me feel like I had won in life. My grandmother was happy because it would increase family income. She had three additional mouths to feed, and we were quickly growing up. She worried about getting my sisters married. My first stint in Korea, however, was not what I expected. I had to change jobs multiple times, either because the company I worked for was unable to pay me, there was no work, or I had an accident. The odds just were not in my favour. The global financial crisis had taken a toll on the economy.&nbsp; Even so, I managed to help pay for my sisters' weddings and had modest savings. But there was not much to show for it compared to my peers. Never again, I thought, as I said goodbye to Korea.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251224021240_f303dd30f922776a30a1871b38e5420534e73b99b7b1444b4658c4eca535d043" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="1279" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I came home and got married. I started a mobile repair shop. But it did not work out well either, and I was soon headed back to Korea despite my misgivings. I left a day after my son was born, and this time I was determined to make it work in Korea. I was placed in a company that made golf balls. It paid well, but the job was just for money, I needed to do something more with my future that would help me stand on my own feet once I was back in Nepal. I was intrigued by the three-in-one instant coffee sachets in Korea that had coffee, milk and sugar. Back home in our village in Kaski, our cooperative grew coffee that either went to waste or fetched very low prices. My sisters and I used to pick the sweet and tasty coffee cherries.&nbsp; I saw a great business prospect in turning the beans into coffee sachets, and started exploring this. That was my mission: to make instant coffee packets widely available in Nepal. It was just a matter of understanding the process so I went to a migrant resource centre in Korea to inquire about where I could learn this.&nbsp; I was advised to take barista classes, and I found out that sachet coffee is actually not healthy and I should instead learn about fresh brewed coffee. That seemed even more exciting. How coffee beans could be ground and sold for over Rs450 in Korean cafes that people waited in line for bemused me. During my free time, I spent all my energy learning about coffee. I took training in barista, coffee sensory, machine repair and roasting. I had to rely on the generosity of Koreans who were willing to take a chance on me as I had different constraints such as lack of network, a busy work schedule at my regular job but even then, people offered to help.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251224021244_86bbfcdcbe8925c46efac526225aea226b7987290f8107e991d8e764cbb01155" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee NT"> </figure>  I was so obsessed that whenever I spent time on leisure activities during days off, I felt guilty. My golf ball job was just for income, I had to invest in my real post-Korea life. Balancing work and learning everything about coffee was not easy. Not only did I pay for some of the lessons, I even skipped overtime hours for them. But this was for my future. I must have consulted over a dozen coffee experts in Korea to share their experience and connect me to people. I could not afford to be shy about asking strangers for help. When the pandemic hit, we were granted a one-year visa extension, and I took it as an opportunity to invest in myself. I had seen great business prospects for coffee machine repair service in Pokhara because people had to rely on Kathmandu. But to learn machine repair and maintenance, I had to spend more time and weekend classes were not going to be sufficient.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251224021248_18996ee0b6292070add202cf948f5b0b5a09e5b11022b9d961a68a5a886fc5f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1138" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  I moved to a training company and worked just enough to maintain my legal status. I did not take overtime shifts. Even my roommates barely saw me because I used to come home long after our duty hours from my coffee training. I also needed actual job experience so I asked my trainer to let me shadow him at work.&nbsp; The on-the-job exposure to repair and maintenance work gave me more confidence and expertise. When I returned to Nepal, I came home with a suitcase full of coffee machine parts. I have started a coffee shop called Jumli, provide machine repair services and have also started growing my own coffee. The idea is to be a one stop shop for all players in the coffee industry, whether it is farmers or coffee shop owners who need Nepal-grown coffee or machine repair services or coffee lovers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251224021248_0fd28dab75d1eddbc16ab0aeda2ce7fcd4aceb07e7a381d4ce872b5184bea086" data-rendition-name="original" width="1321" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Jumli coffee DD"> </figure>  It is not always easy being an entrepreneur in Nepal. Sometimes, when I am on shaky ground, I close my eyes and talk to my mother in my head for clarity. Some of these conversations are replays of the things she told me when I was growing up. I didn’t take them seriously then, but now they offer important nuggets of wisdom about life, society, and how to navigate difficult times. I have a lot of hope for the future. I am now laying the groundwork to one day export Nepal’s specialty coffee to the international market, meeting global standards of quality. Programs like the Returnee Innovators for Nepal (RIN) help in equipping you with the skills to better pitch your business and give exposure and networks. Even now, I rely on my trainer in Korea for guidance or to access spare parts that are not available in Nepal. I have come a long way from the day I cluelessly chose ‘American-O’ coffee because it was the easiest drink to pronounce in the menu. I never thought I would be making a living from coffee back home in Nepal one day.&nbsp;

goddess

The sacred female energy of Shakti

Activists decry animal slaughter at Nepal temple

Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

The sins of our mothers

Not taking loyalty for granted

From ‘American-O’ to Jumli