<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9189c7e80680e08789fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Gurkhas on parade during the 2015 G200 celebrations in London 2015. All photos: JOHNNY FENN PHOTOGRAPHY</figcaption></figure>’Twas the night after Christmas 1993 and we all thought the bumps were just someone else going to the bathroom. Next morning downstairs was devastation. Christmas gifts were strewn amongst the chintz-covered sofas, draws emptied onto the carpets, the silver candlesticks gone along with a camera, binoculars and the children’s new toys.The night-time robbery with a houseful of sleeping friends and family was all the more daring as this was the home of the head of the special elite Gurkha force hired to protect the royal family, deep within the Sultanate of Brunei.I was visiting the Colonel during a break from one of my first consulting jobs with New Zealand teammates in neighbouring Sabah and Sarawak – marketing specialist for the Malaysian states’ tourism master plans. Lessons learned from the jungle, wildlife and ecotourism experiences in Nepal were being applied to the bio-rich rainforests of Borneo.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be91b9c7e80680e0878a0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>At <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/recreating-tiger-tops-in-the-tropics/">Tiger Tops</a> we had a long association with the military – British Gurkha as well as the Royal Nepal Army who guarded the wildlife of Chitwan National Park manned the guard posts, and whose major would often drop by the Lodge for a cup of tea.A retired Nepal general reminded me recently of the occasion in the mid-1970s when as a junior officer he led parachutist’s training at Meghauli. Camping overnight on the grass airstrip, I had accepted their invitation for a दाल भात meal around the campfire, complete with customary Nepali dancing featuring squaddies dressed as women. What most impressed him, he told me, was my bare feet in the jungle.Our boss <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15828#.XE1Al1UzaUk">Jim Edwards</a> favoured running jungle tourism operations along military lines, and many of my colleagues had army backgrounds, especially Nepali officers trained in admin, engineers, drivers and mechanics. As did our ancient green Land Rovers, their legacy of action evidenced by bullet holes that riddled their chassis, along with the occasional dent made by a charging rhino.One of Jim’s proudest moments in later life was being made an honorary British Gurkha, and he regularly sported the green and red striped regimental tie with the iconic crossed <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3679#.X-AppVUzaUk">खुकुरी</a> knives.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be91e9c7e80680e0878a1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Colonel was one of a long line of commanders of the Brigade of Gurkhas Nepal, who now hold the multiple roles of Defence Attaché and director <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/cold-comfort/">Gurkha Welfare Trust</a>, based in the British Embassy compound Kathmandu.These British officers speak fluent Nepali with a clipped Gurkhali accent, and most would find any excuse to leave the diplomatic confines of the office to escape into their beloved hills with the soldiers to whom they are so dedicated.Not only are Nepalis still being recruited as an integral part of the British Army, but significant funding and energy goes into pension paying and ensuring veterans returning to Nepal are well supported. The British Gurkha connection put over <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10937#.X-Ap91UzaUk">£140 million into Nepal’s economy</a> last year, and the Gurkha Welfare Trust works in health and education throughout the length of rural Nepal.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9209c7e80680e0878a2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="399"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The first British Defence and Military Attaché appointed to Kathmandu in 1958 was mountaineer <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-himalayan-odyssey/">Lt Col JOM Roberts MVO MBE MC 2GR</a>, distinguished for his war service in India and founder of Nepal’s trekking industry, providing employment for the Sherpas he so admired. Jimmy made Nepal his home and stayed on rearing rare pheasants in Pokhara retirement until his death in 1997. He was followed by some fabled and highly decorated army names in the 1960s, Wylie, Kemmis Betty and Hickey.Others are remembered for less illustrious traits. One officer’s Land Rover mowed down the white posts that line the Embassy driveway after an evening of revelry, and another was infuriated when his wife eloped with the tennis coach. One colonel astounded the congregation by bursting into tears during a remembrance service, and another enjoyed slipping into army fatigues with an officious clipboard at the slightest provocation.My favourite story about Col David Scotson, DA in the late 1980s, was how he got married on crutches, both legs encased in plaster casts, having wandered out of the first-floor window of his future in-law’s Swiss chalet to admire the view only to realise too late that there was no balcony.The curfew that accompanied the end of the single-party system provided the perfect cover for one officer to pursue an extra-marital affair, whilst others preferred mahseer fishing, rafting and camping on the remote rivers of western Nepal. During a royal visit, at a pre-trek mess dinner under a military camp shamiana, the colonel’s wife was overhead counselling the Prince of Wales not to listen to ‘his mother’ about marital difficulties with Princess Diana, and to ‘follow his heart.’The British Gurkha Khukris team were a fixture at Tiger Tops’ annual elephant polo championships, often attracting the top brass from Hong Kong HQ and always handy as reliable timekeepers to monitor the matches. The players were most celebrated as winners of the best-dressed award with their natty uniforms, whilst actual goals scored were usually few and far between.One Defence Attaché, Col Mike Allen, pursued his passion for moths, and could regularly be found at dusk with bright lights and a white sheet, adding new species to scientific collections for Nepal. Col Mike Kefford led a British joint services expedition to scale Everest before abandoning his military career to sail around the world.One commander went on to become Prince Philip’s private secretary living in Kensington Palace. And a couple of former incumbents have remained closely connected to Nepal, reinventing themselves in new Pokhara-based jobs supervising privately funded agricultural and livelihood projects throughout the countryside.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9229c7e80680e0878a3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Gurkha recruitment dates back over 200 years to 1815, even before the Treaty of Sugauli formalised the Nepal British relationship and ended the Anglo-Nepal war 1814-1816. Highly impressed by the fighting spirit shown by his opponents, General Sir David Ochterlony had led the East India Company attack, a colourful character alleged to have kept thirteen concubines and gifted each an elephant whilst British resident to the Mughal court in Delhi.In the early 1960s, the British Gurkhas numbered nearly 18,000 men, recruited from their headquarters near Dharan in southeast Nepal, with brigades stationed in Singapore, Malaysia and Hong Kong as well as the United Kingdom. Today they total about one-quarter of that and are all assigned in the UK except for a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-forgotten-gurkha-rebellion/">battalion in Brunei</a>. The selection process remains famously hard-won –- last year 12,000 young men competed for just 400 places.I took my mother to the Gurkha bicentenary pageant celebration at the Royal Hospital in Chelsea one chilly June evening in 2015 – lots of smart green uniforms, precision marching, wailing bagpipes and whirling खुकुरी. The purpling London night sky faded above us, and tall windowpanes glowed gold in the elegant Wren building backdrop to our ringside seats.Actress Joanna Lumley made a speech, and the VVIP stand contained a full hand of all the immediate British royal family led by Queen Elizabeth II, a tribute to the legendary esteem in which Gurkha servicemen continue to be held in Britain.In the words of Sir Ralph Turner MC 1888-1983, former Gurkha, linguist, philologist and Professor of Sanskrit: ‘Once more I see you in your bivouacs or about your fires, on forced march or in the trenches, now shivering with wet and cold, now scorched by a pitiless and burning sun. Uncomplaining you endure hunger and thirst and wounds, and at the last, your unwavering lines disappear into the smoke and wrath of battle. Bravest of the brave, most generous of the generous, never had country more faithful friends than you.’

Lisa Choegyal

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<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101144/636a257f9c7e80680e0439cfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1115"/>In her recent article in this paper ‘<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/gurkha-grandparents/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gurkha Grandparents</a>’ (#944) Sikuma Rai movingly describes the plight of many elderly Nepalis now living in the UK, most of them <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-military-migrant-economy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">ex-Gurkhas</a> and their wives. The families get regular pension, heating allowances and rent support, free public transport, as well as access to the British National Health Service.But there are also costs, which include living away from their home country in a strange land among strangers, without the personal, social and cultural comforts of their villages. Many pine for Nepal, and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/No-place-like-home,1123" target="_blank" rel="noopener">some decide to return home</a>. But women, particularly widows who speak little English, have few non-Nepali friends, and remain isolated in their homes in towns like in Salisbury or Aldershot. The weather does not help, and most remain house-bound or within a limited area of the city missing their children and grandchildren.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/gurkha-grandparents/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gurkha Grandparents</a>, Sikuma Rai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.gwt.org.uk/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Gurkha Welfare Trust</a> runs advice centres which work closely with government bodies like the Royal British Legion to support army veterans. Numerous local charities unconnected with the army also help, as well as community services for older people, including mental health diagnosis, treatment and support, provided by the local council and by the health services.But much of this is cold comfort to elderly Nepali men and women who have settled in Britain, and who would, ideally, flock back to Nepal to be with their families and friends -- if only they could be assured of more financial support, including better and less costly health care.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101144/636a259b9c7e80680e0439d0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624" target="_blank" rel="noopener">elderly in Nepal</a> have traditionally been able to count on family support. But, as more older people live longer the financial burden on families has increased. Nepal’s average life span has increased from 35 for men and 37 for women in 1961, to 69 for men and 72 for women in 2014. By 2018, there were nearly 3 million people over 60 in Nepal. Family fragmentation has also resulted in physical separation between older grandparents and their children and grandchildren.Consequently, even back in Nepal, more elderly men and women are <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/guest-editorial-old-is-gold,876" target="_blank" rel="noopener">living apart from their closest family members</a> than ever before. Many are now suffering from the same problems as do those settled in the UK, but without pensions, allowances, and access to free medical services.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A much older tomorrow</a>, Sonia AwaleThere are relatively few specialised institutions for support and care of the elderly in Nepal. The Gurkha Welfare Trust cares for ex-<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/the-gurkhas-an-interactive-timeline" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gurkhas</a> and their families with Welfare Pensions to veterans and widows and medical treatment. But there are very few examples in Nepal of private ‘care homes’ and ‘retirement villages’ that exist in the UK.There is now some state support, but it remains pitifully limited. The non-contributory social pension scheme introduced in 1995 was intended to provide allowances to older people aged 70 and above, to older dalits and people living in the Karnali Zone aged 60 and above, and to poor widows aged 60 and above. The allowance was doubled to, Rs2000 and the age of eligibility reduced to 65, but scheme remains inadequately implemented.It is estimated by Pension Watch (Help Age International) that the number of people receiving an allowance is around 636,000, and 47% over 65 in Nepal receive a non-contributory pension, while 9% have a contributory pension. The total cost of the scheme is Rs15 billion, or 0.7% of GDP. By 2050, when the estimated number of Nepalis over 60 will be around 6.5 million, the cost will have more than doubled even if the same proportion of the budget is allocated to the scheme.Last year, Prime Minister Oli proposed a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/social-insecurity/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">social security scheme</a> for private sector employees to provide for life-long pensions and reduce the fiscal burden by demanding that employers deposit 31% of the basic salary (20% from employers and 11% from employees) into a Social Security Fund. After 15 years, private sector employees would then be entitled to lifelong pensions, just like retired government employees.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/social-insecurity/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Social insecurity</a>, Om Astha Rai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/not-just-social-security/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Not just social security</a>, Josh GloverBut even were this scheme to be introduced, it would still <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/not-just-social-security/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">leave out millions working in the informal sector and agriculture</a>, and would be too late for those already of pensionable age.The Nepal government spends 6% of its budget on basic health care and in 2012, launched a pilot program for universal health insurance in five districts. This was followed up in 2017 by the National <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/national-health-insurance-not-as-easy,4028" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Health Insurance</a> Act and in 2018 by the National Health Institution Quality Authority Act, providing the legal framework for a National Health Service.Although Nepal's 2015 Constitution guarantees basic health care as a fundamental right, however, access to high-quality care remains a privilege, and out of reach of most including elderly Nepalis who may want to come back home.<h2>Fighting for equality</h2>In May 2009, the Labour government under Tony Blair was obliged by public pressure to enable Gurkhaswho retired before 1 July 1997 with at least four years’ service to settle with their families in the UK, that being the date when the Gurkha Brigade headquarters moved from Hong Kong to Britain.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-time-has-come-for-a-gurkha-peace-corps/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Time has come for a Gurkha Peace Corps</a>, David SeddonEven before that, in March 2007, pay, pensions and terms of service of serving Gurkhas were equalised with those of regular British Army personnel and equal pensions were granted to those enlisted from 1 October 1993, but about 15,000 pensioners and 6,000 widow pensioners did not benefit.On 10 June 2011, the British Gurkha Welfare Society lodged a case with the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) claiming that Gurkhas had been paid significantly lower pensions than their British counterparts. On 15 September 2016, the ECHR shattered the hopes of thousands of ex-Gurkhas for equal pensions.

Cold comfort

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

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

With Saturday's deadline on Malaysia’s announcement of new criteria for selecting private recruiting agencies for migrant workers having lapsed, Nepal and Bangladesh have rejected the conditions.
The Malaysian move three weeks ago came in the aftermath of deadly GenZ riots in September, when Nepal’s interim government does not have designated heads in the Foreign Ministry and the Labour Ministry.
Interim Prime Minister Sushila Karki instructed the Labour Ministry to examine the implications of the standards and recommend appropriate steps to address them, but it has said it cannot send Nepali workers to Malaysia based on those criteria.
“In line with Nepal’s foreign employment policy and regulations, we are currently unable to accept or implement the proposed criteria,” says Pitambar Ghimire, spokesperson at the Ministry of Labor, Employment and Social Security in Kathmandu.
In response to the government’s request for their opinion on the Malaysian stipulation, the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA) has also flatly rejected the criteria, saying it could create a harmful syndicate and restrict fair competition, violate Nepal’s Constitution and laws, and increase recruitment fees that workers must pay.
On 25 October, the Malaysian Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent letters to the governments of Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Pakistan and India with 10 criteria meant to ‘rationalise the number of licensed private recruitment agencies permitted to facilitate recruitment and placement of workers to Malaysia’.
The proposed criteria include: at least five years of operating experience, deployment of 3,000 workers in the past three years of operation, experience sending workers to at least three countries, valid licenses and good conduct certificates, five employer testimonials, operating their own training and accommodation centres, and even a requirement for the staffing agency to have a 10,000 sq m office maintained for three years.
“We have communicated our views to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and have proposed discussing various labour related matters with our Malaysian counterparts diplomatically through bilateral dialogue and negotiations including renewal of the Nepal-Malaysia labour agreement,” Pitamber Ghimire said.
NAFEA has urged the government to prevent this measure from moving forward using diplomatic channels, and has held &nbsp;several gatherings and press conferences opposing the proposal since the Malaysian letter was received three weeks ago.
“We have taken commitment letters from members that they will not be engaged in activities related to the syndicate,” said Sujit Shrestha of NAFEA. “And if they break the commitment, they will face consequences including the revocation of their NAFEA membership. These letters also send a strong message to the government that this is irrevocably and collectively rejected by the industry.”
Bangladesh has also not accepted the proposal despite the 15 November deadline to send a list of recruiters that meet the criteria. That in itself would have been an impossible task to complete to begin with even if the government had accepted the proposal.&nbsp;
According to media reports, Bangladesh has sent a letter to the Malaysian government requesting that three of the proposed criteria be relaxed. This includes flexibility regarding the requirements for a 10,000 sq ft office, a dedicated training center, and the condition of having deployed 3,000 workers in the last five years. Despite the official request to Malaysian authorities, the Bangladeshi Government has also been collecting applications from recruiters who meet Malaysia’s proposed criteria, raising confusions about the contradictory stance.&nbsp;
Just like NAFEA, the recruitment association in Bangladesh, the Bangladesh Association of International Recruiting Agencies (BAIRA) has also outright rejected the proposal including in a letter to the Bangladeshi government, calling the criteria ‘unprecedented and exclusionary, unreasonable, discriminatory and syndicate-driven &nbsp;that would effectively disqualify 99% of legitimate agencies from participation’.&nbsp;
Now that the ball is back in Malaysia’s court and the proposal has not gained much support from two of the major origin countries, it will be interesting to see how they respond.

Nepal, Bangladesh reject Malaysian conditions

The sixth edition of PhotoKTM will mark a decade of visual storytelling and continue its role as a vital platform for photographers and visual artists to explore the politics of photographs and their role in shaping our histories and futures.&nbsp; The month-long festival across Kathmandu Valley features 18 exhibitions, slideshows, workshops, artist talks, panel discussions, portfolio reviews, and film screenings. While Nepal Art Council will be the anchor venue, the festival will go on the road in Mangahiti and Chyasal in Patan, Nigu Pukhu in Madhyapur Thimi, Nandi Keshar Bagaincha in Naxal and Tribhuvan University. The curatorial themes of PhotoKTM 6 Global South Solidarities draws inspiration from the historic 1955 Bandung Conference in Indonesia, which marks its 70th anniversary this year.&nbsp; The festival explores the political and cultural legacy of the Third World Project, exploring the history of global resistance and solidarity, and how they have shaped contemporary processes to reclaim sovereignty of regions battered by centuries of colonialism, exploitation, and violence.&nbsp; The festival spotlights the work and curatorial voices of artists from over 40 artists based in the Global South, from Santiago to Lubumbashi and Quito to Dakar, alongside Nepali photographers and filmmakers. “We hope this year’s coming together will deepen cultural understanding among artists and cultural communities across the Third World, strengthen reciprocal transnational solidarities through the sharing of our histories, stories, struggles and hopes, and open up pathways for more south-south collaboration and exchange across geographies,” says NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati, co-founder and festival director.&nbsp; Also featured are eight Nepali artists from the 2025 photo.circle fellowship cohort, whose works explore questions, challenges, and contradictions surrounding the notions of ‘development’ and ‘progress’ in contemporary Nepal.&nbsp; The festival comes two months after the GenZ protests, at a pivotal moment when Nepal is navigating significant political transitions. Says curator Diwas Raja KC: “From anti-colonial struggles to the Bandung Conference, to the non-alignment movement and revolutionary cultural exchanges, these histories continue to shape how countries like Nepal imagine their place in the world.”&nbsp; PhotoKTM6 is supported by the Shikshya Foundation Nepal, the Embassy of Switzerland in Nepal, as well as independent non-profit organisations FreeMuse and Cultural Workers Solidarity Front. “I think it is particularly relevant that these spaces are created and maintained because it is only if people meet and continue to do this important work, in which they think collectively, they work collectively, and they hold up certain values, that they will be capable of contributing to what I would call a ‘free world’,” says yasmine eid-sabbagh, who is the invited interlocutor to this year’s festival. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Ji ta Newa Bhyaa Mawa (I don’t know Nepal Bhasa)&nbsp;</h2> Jyoti Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: JYOTI SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Jyoti Shrestha was born to Newar parents in Kathmandu but grew up without learning the mother tongue, Nepal Bhasa. ‘My parents, with the best of intentions, taught us English and Nepali—languages of success and survival in a world that had set ours aside... A Newar without language, I felt alien in the very culture that was meant to be mine,’ writes Shrestha in her testimony. Nepal Bhasa is in UNESCO’s ‘definitely endangered’ list. Shrestha has begun to learn her language with help from her parents, and in doing so, their relationship has shifted for the better. She adds: “No census counts the intimacy of a shared memory, the tenderness of language passed between generations, or the weight of an inherited silence.” <h2>The Land Remembers Our Name&nbsp;</h2> Rejin Purja  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RENJIN PURJA</figcaption> </figure>  The Department of Mines and Geology has confirmed the presence of iron ore in Jhumlawang in East Rukum. Iron mining has not started yet but a Kathmandu-based private company is said to have won the bid at Rs40.3 million. If the project indeed takes off, most of the families will have to be evacuated. “Not only will they lose their houses, land, and forests, but their roots, culture, and autonomy are also at stake. How can this project be considered of national benefit when it forces the very people it should serve to live in fear of their future?,” Rejin Purja writes in his testimony. Economic development exploits the natural resources of native and indigenous communities. Such projects may boost GDP and corporate profits, but they rarely improve the lives of the people whose land is being extracted from. This work reflects the uncertainty felt by the local people about their village’s future. <h2>Fragmented Land and Me</h2> Sujata Khadka  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUJATA KHADKA</figcaption> </figure>  Sujata Khadka’s ancestral home in Godavari’s Jharuwarasi was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake, after which her family built a new house on a small plot of land nearby. In the decade since the earthquake, rapid land trade has turned the farmland surrounding her home into a housing development. For the past 10 years, Khadka has been watching natural and man-made events unfold on the plots from her window on the second floor of her house. The land has been witness to playing children, negotiating brokers, bulldozers, and prowling wildlife. But despite relentless hemming and hawing by buyers and sellers over the past decade, no houses have been built on the land. &nbsp;“This misshapen land feels like a stage where a cast of characters performs an ongoing act,” says Khadka. “Perhaps this land and I are spectators to this drama.” <h2>Why doesn’t home feel like home?</h2> Karma Tshering Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TSHERING GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Karma Tshering Gurung was born in Manang to a Manangi family, where he was raised with his siblings. But in recent times, whenever he has visited his family in Manang, he has felt a sense of unease, like the place sees him as an occasional visitor, an outsider who no longer understands the aspirations of his people. As Manang becomes a tourist spot, Gurung’s brother thinks it is a good idea to tear down their ancestral house and build a snooker house in its place. But Gurung thinks the house is their Appa’s legacy, and worth preserving. The brothers’ ideas of home have diverged. &nbsp; &nbsp;“With a camera in hand, I am trying to rediscover my relationship with this place, with my past, navigating ideas of home and belonging tied to Manang,” he says. “Maybe home for me is no longer just a place, but this search for identity, memory and connection.” <h2>Life and Struggle of Garment Workers&nbsp;</h2> Taslima Akhter (Bangladesh)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: TASLIMA AKHTER@Taslima Akhter</figcaption> </figure>  This project focuses on the millions of workers who leave their villages and move into crowded worker barracks in the cities of Bangladesh, in search of a better life. <h2>Between Us, a Thread&nbsp;</h2> Ahmed Alaqra (Ramallah)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RUBA ALFARAOUNA</figcaption> </figure>  A quiet gesture between photographers, image-makers, and those who hold memory like a fragile light. Palestinian, Arab, scattered — yet orbiting the same wound.&nbsp; <h2>Possible and Imaginary Lives&nbsp;</h2> yasmine eid-sabbagh / Rozenn Quéré  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo Courtesy: YASMINE EID-SABBAGH AND ROZENN QUÉRÉ(Photo: ) </figcaption> </figure>  An exhibition, based on family photographs and taped interviews, tells the story of four strong and feisty Palestinian-Lebanese sisters, exiled to the four corners of the globe. <h2>Martyrs, Saints &amp; Sellouts&nbsp;</h2> Siona O’Connel (South Africa)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BENNY GOOL</figcaption> </figure>  Comprised of photographs by Benny Gool, Zubeida Vallie and Adil Bradlow, documenting apartheid South Africa, this exhibition presents a vivid narrative of violence, loss and injuries that continue to reverberate under the rhetoric of the post apartheid landscape. <h2>Humo, Semilla, Raíz</h2> Isadora Romero (Ecuador)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ISADORA ROMERO</figcaption> </figure>  An alternate look into environmental issues through the prism of possibility, instead of catastrophic consequence is what this exhibition brings. Romero’s visual research engages with how the loss of ancestral memory and Indigenous knowledge resulting from colonisation, forced displacement, and racism is causing seeds to disappear at an alarming rate. <h2>First week schedule (selected)</h2> Friday, 14 November Bhandarkhal Garden, Patan Museum, 5:30pm -7:30pm Festival Opening + Award of Excellence Saturday, 15 November Yala Maya Kendra, Patan Dhoka 3pm-4pm Demounting Louis Agassiz – Artistic Renegotiation of Archive, Memory &amp; Place. Talk by Sasha Huber (moderated by Diwas Raja Khatri) 4:30pm-6pm Witness or Accomplice: Photography, Human Rights and the Question of Freedom. Talk by Prof. Siona O’ Connell (moderated by NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati) Sunday, 16 November Yala Maya Kendra July, Unfinished. Jaheen Faruque Amin in conversation with Sabnam Lama, 3pm- 4pm When The World is Blind – Images by Palestinians. Ahmed Alaqra in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh, 4- 6pm Manga Hiti, 7pm-8pm Slideshow – Who Does The River Belong To? Monday, 17 November Yala Maya Kendra, 3pm - 4pm Memory is an Inaccurate Place: Dialogues Across Time, Territories, and Histories. Isadora Romero in conversation with Tanvi Mishra 4:30pm-6pm Third Camera – a Film Series: Ernest Cole: Lost and Found Dir. Raoul Peck 2024 | 1h 46m | English Tuesday, 18 November Yala Maya Kendra Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 1 Paola Farran in conversation with Jessica Lim, 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 2 Chelsea Chua in conversation with Tif Ng, 4pm:30-6pm Khapinchhen, Patan A Photographer’s Fifty-Year Journey in Nepal. A Slideshow and Talk with Kevin Bubriski, 7-7:30pm PhotoKTM Bhoé, 7:30pm-9:30pm Rs1,800 (early bird), Rs2,000 (door sale) Wednesday, 19 November Yala Maya Kendra 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 3 Andrea Thal in conversation with Diwas Raja Khatri 4:30pm-6pm We must refuse silence! Samir Eskanda, Shahidul Alam, and Tabara Korka Ndiaye in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh Thursday, 20 November Nepal Art Council, 4pm- 6pm Walk-thru at NAC with Enuma Rai, Jyoti Shrestha, Karma Tshering Gurung, Manoj Bohara, Manjit Lama, Rejin Purja, Sujata Khadka, Sushila Bishwakarma More details <a href="https://photoktm.com/photoktm6-schedule/">here</a>. PHOTOKTM6 14 November-14 December Kathmandu Valley All events free and open

gurkha-welfare-trust

Collateral benefits

Cold comfort

Party Time

The periphery cannot hold

Nepal, Bangladesh reject Malaysian conditions

The politics behind photographs