<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b93409c7e80680e06f194jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>British Gurkha veterans and their families march in London on 15 June, asking the British government, among other demands, to rush vaccine supplies to Nepal.</figcaption></figure>Outrage is growing against India and Britain, despite Nepal’s long association with  their militaries, for not responding to the country’s desperate pleas for vaccines as the second wave of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepals-humanitarian-emergency/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepals-humanitarian-emergency/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHVGIddnZ9UzqWuLtmnXkMev6XBRw">Covid-19 ravages the country</a>.Critics on social media and press commentators have reminded India and Britain that Nepal’s nationals have shed their blood to defend them through wars in the past two centuries, and Nepal’s Rana rulers had been particularly generous in donating money to institutions in British India and the UK itself.On 15 June, Gurkha veterans in kilts and blowing bagpipes staged a demonstration in the heart of London, with family members carrying banners that read ‘We fight for you. Help us fight Covid-19 in Nepal’, and ‘Gurkha Lives Matter’.In May, British celebrities, war veterans, mountaineers, public health specialists and vaccine researchers wrote an open letter to Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab appealing for emergency medical equipment and vaccines to Nepal. They included Sir Jeremy Farrar, Sarah Gilbert, Andrew Pollard, Sir Chris Bonington, Joanna Lumley, Michael Palin, Gen Sir Sam Cowan, and many others. Gurkha veteran Capt Ram Bahadur Limbu, one of only five living recipients of the Victoria Cross, signed the letter from his home in Kathmandu. A similar appeal was made to the US government through the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/vaccines-are-the-only-solution/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/vaccines-are-the-only-solution/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH4O1v0Y8hS89Y5bXDp44hB7rMf8w">Covid Alliance for Nepal</a> as far back as early May.Although Britain, the United States, and other European countries continue to fly in  oxygen generators, PPEs and medical equipment to Kathmandu on relief flights, they have not sent <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/aid-pours-into-nepal-but-where-be-vaccines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/aid-pours-into-nepal-but-where-be-vaccines/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEhfRWccAnQ-tbn2DyKJ_XRyVObsg">what is most needed now: vaccines</a>.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/south-asias-vaccine-geopolitics/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/south-asias-vaccine-geopolitics/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHQ4XSlNRhn40f365N34hfPSwbC_Q">China, </a>on the other hand, has donated 2 million doses of its Sinopharm VeroCell vaccines, and Nepal is poised to order another 4 million jabs from Beijing.To be sure, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-gift-of-the-jab/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-gift-of-the-jab/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHwBMIBC-6KR33qGaxYHOmT96YiaQ">Nepal was gifted 1 million doses</a> of the Covishield AstraZeneca by India as early as March as a part of its ‘neighbourhood first’ policy, and the government paid an advance to the Serum Institute India for another 2 million doses. Only 1 million were delivered.Britain also co-funded 2.268 million Covishield vaccine doses to Nepal via the COVAX facility, but only 348,000 were delivered in April before India stopped its export.Kathmandu has <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-urgent-american-vaccine-support/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-urgent-american-vaccine-support/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHEjmaVIxRqFBfE5UwpeKxAv6cBRA">repeatedly made special appeals</a> to New Delhi to at least send the remaining 1 million Covishield doses it paid for, and to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-is-a-priority-for-vaccine-shipments/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-is-a-priority-for-vaccine-shipments/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985560000&amp;usg=AFQjCNERDV63Evdml3D3N257h0RgHYNi-g">Britain to rush supplies</a> so that 1.4 million elderly Nepalis who have been waiting for their second doses now for more than 12 weeks get their jabs before their immunity runs out.Even though some individual European countries are willing to donate their surplus or unused AstraZeneca vaccines directly to Nepal, the EU has has insisted that it go through the COVAX channel which has pledged 100 million doses by the end of the year. But that would be too late for those waiting for second doses.Last month, US President Joe Biden announced that 7 million doses will be given to countries in South and Southeast Asia, but there is no mention of when and how many are for Nepal. The G-7 leaders last week pledged another 1 billion doses of Covid-19 vaccines, half of it to be delivered by end-2021. But there are no signs of actual vaccines being readied for shipment to Nepal.Most <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/vacillating-on-vaccines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/vacillating-on-vaccines/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1624103985561000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHnk6e_HurSuOgrRmr028cDkfFK_Q">Nepalis blame their government </a>for being too busy with internal power struggles to secure adequate vaccines in time. Nepal’s embassies, especially in New Delhi, London and Washington DC have come under special criticism for not being able to convey Nepal’s urgency. However, there is also deep hurt that Nepal is being treated so shabbily in its time of great need, especially by India and Britain.Blood sacrificeOf the 400,000 young Nepali men conscripted to fight alongside the British in the two world wars, nearly 50,000 were killed in action. Thousands of Nepali soldiers have died fighting in the Indian Army against Pakistan and China since Indian independence.Archivist Santosh Khaderi says the sacrifice of Nepali soldiers should be honoured, and also the generosity shown by Nepal’s Rana rulers towards institutions in British India and in the UK in the past.Prime Minister Chandra Shumshere Rana gifted Rs330,000 (a lot of money in those days) to buy machine guns for its soldiers in British regiments. And in 1914, an emissary of Chandra Shumshere handed over as a ‘personal gift’ to the British War Office in London 31 machine guns for immediate dispatch to the front.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b93439c7e80680e06f195jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="556" height="638"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b93459c7e80680e06f196jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="476" height="705">Photos: SANTOSH KHADERI“Nepal was a poor country, but it is shocking to see how generous its Rana rulers were in supporting the British,” Khaderi says. “They were giving away what was essentially taxes paid by poor Nepalis in the name of diplomacy. It is time for Britain to return the favour.”Another newspaper clipping from The Toronto World in 1916 reports on a ‘special gift’ of Rs200,000 from the Nepal government and Rs100,000 from the prime minister personally to Viceroy Lord Chelmsford in India as donation towards the British war effort.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b93489c7e80680e06f197jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1002" height="734"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Although the second wave appears to be cresting in Nepal, just as it has in India, the disease is still spreading in the community in the remotest parts of the country where there are scanty testing or treatment facilities. Public health officials say the death toll and infection rate is probably three times higher than what is officially reported.On Friday, 2,768 confirmed Covid-19 cases were reported nationwide, with 44 fatalities. This pushes the total number of deaths so far to 8,641. There are still     65,000 active cases, with most in home isolation, but there are 872 in ICU and 246  on ventilator support.Next week, the authorities are expected to ease the restrictions on movement in Kathmandu after nearly two months with a ‘smart lockdown’. However, public health experts say that relaxing the rules when only 4% of the population has been vaccinated is sure to mean another surge.After inoculating the 1.4 million people above 65 who are waiting for their second doses, Nepal needs to vaccinate at least 70% of its adult population for which it will need more than 40 million doses soon.Former  United Nations Under Secretary-General and Nepali diplomat Gyan Chandra Acharya told Nepali Times, “I don’t see a possibility of Nepal getting vaccines from India now, but the West is hoarding more vaccines than it needs. What is stopping them from sending the urgently needed second doses to Nepal?”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b934a9c7e80680e06f198jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>What rankles Archivist Khaderi the most is the historical injustice of it all. Having studied Nepal-Britain relations, he is most disappointed at the way Britain is treating Nepal. The UK may be Nepal’s main donor today, but in the past successive Rana prime ministers lavished presents on the British royalty.Khaderi, who lives in Qatar, has uncovered archival material about Bir Shumshere Rana gifting 14 gold coins to Queen Victoria, even Jang Bahadur, who was the first royalty from the Subcontinent to visit Britain in 1850, showered expensive presents on Queen Victoria. Later, Dev Shumshere contributed Rs15,000 to Queen Victoria’s Memorial Fund.“It is really disappointing to see Britain and India bring so unwilling to help Nepal despite the sacrifices of our soldiers, the generosity and flattery that our rulers lavished upon them in the past, and to this present day through Gurkha recruitment,” he says.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109121144/636b934e9c7e80680e06f199jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="204">Indeed, what is most telling for foreign policy analysts is that despite the ‘special relationship’ between Britain and Nepal and the military ties, not a single British prime minister has ever visited Nepal even though British royals have been here.Public health expert Sameer Mani Dixit of the Centre for Molecular Dynamics says the nature of Nepal’s second wave is changing. While hospitals in Nepal needed oxygen during the peak of the infections in May, now it is vaccines that is most needed.“Nepal has historical relations with India and the UK, but it is disappointing that particularly Britain has not done much in terms of vaccines. There have been pledges, but when will they get here? In 2023?” he asks. “Why get stuck with COVAX,  Britain should send us doses directly since we helped defend their Empire. We are not begging. Nepalis died for Britain, now Britain should help Nepalis live."

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Anger grows in Nepal over Covid vaccine delays

<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

Collateral benefits

<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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5f8s9Ed928Shakha Ratna Rai, 61, was at Kathmandu Airport last month, waiting to return to the UK after a family visit. Like many army wives, she had left Nepal with her husband, former British Gurkha soldier Bal Bahadur Rai, 78. The Rais feel more at home in Nepal, but were attracted to stay in the UK because of the monthly allowance, free medical facilities, house rent, and even an extra heating allowance for the winter for ex-Gurkhas – but most of all it is the free health care. Rana Bahadur Thakali, 76, and Krishna Sherchan, 65, have been living in the UK for four years now, and are happy they came here. “If I was in Nepal I would have suffered or even died by now,” says Thakali who has hypertension and thyroid problems. Sherchan shows a drawer full of medicines she and her husband have to take.  <figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a235b9c7e80680e0417e1jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Homesick: Rana Bahadur Thakali and Krishna Sherchan with Bishnu Maya Bangshi.</figcaption></figure>“If we had stayed in Nepal, we would have had to sell our house to afford these medicines,” she says. Despite the free drugs, however, elderly Nepalis have to find someone to take them to hospitals, which are sometimes far away. Because they lack English, many cannot even call for an ambulance.  “We have everything we need here, but it is not home. We miss our families in Nepal,” says 75-year-old Jan Bahadur Rai who was waiting outside a Nepali shop in Feltham near London for his wife, Ganga Maya Limbu, whom he married after his first wife died. “It is even harder to live here if you don’t have a partner,” he adds ruefully.Indeed, most elderly Gurkhas and their spouses here say they are living in the UK for the sake of their extended families, and the medical care. <figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a235e9c7e80680e0417e2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“All we do here is sit around and pass the time, but at night many thoughts run through my mind and I cannot sleep,” confides Jan Bahadur Rai in one of his fellow ex-Gurkha's room. Here, there is no tv, no radio, a table, two chairs and pages of a newspaper on the table to protect it from bidi ashes. If the sun is out, Nepali retirees take the free public transport to the park to get some fresh air. But English weather being what it is, the couples mostly stay indoors. “Some people even die within a few months of coming here from Nepal,” says Binda Maya Limbu, another Gurkha wife. “One Limbu lady down the road died a few days ago, she had been here only five months. Her relatives took her body back to Nepal in December.” <figure><img width="1400" height="1050" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a23619c7e80680e0417e3jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>When Rana Bahadur Thakali and Krishna Sherchan lived in the cantonment town of Aldershot, they recall the Council asked Gurkha retirees to avoid using public transport during working or school hours since the buses were getting too crowded with Nepalis. Some Nepalis have taken to drink, but mostly they can be seen strolling through malls while their grandchildren shop. Bishnu Maya Bangshi, a 67-year-old widow, has been living by herself for two years, and to overcome her loneliness takes English lessons twice a week, and uses a smartphone to keep in touch with relatives back home. “The first year was the most difficult time for me. I would sit on my bed looking outside the window feeling homesick and sad. I had to come here for the sake of my three children in Nepal for whom I am applying for visas,” she says.  <figure><img width="1400" height="1013" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a23649c7e80680e0417e4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After the end of numerous wars, there was a significant reduction in the number of serving Gurkhas in the British Army. Many had not served the 15 years needed to qualify for an Army pension.These Gurkha veterans or widows have been provided with welfare pensions by The Gurkha Welfare Trust. After a long agitation, the British government in 21 May 2009 officially allowed settlement visas for all former Gurkhas who have served in the British Army for at least four years, along with their spouses and dependent children. Even some widows of ex-soldiers have been allowed to stay since then. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-time-has-come-for-a-gurkha-peace-corps/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The time has come for a Gurkha Peace Corps</a>, David Seddon<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Gurkhas-dying-for-others,2938" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dying for others</a>, Om Astha RaiMost of the elderly Gurkhas interviewed for this report admitted that they would go back if Nepal offered better medical facilities. One ex-Gurkha who was reluctant to relocate to Britain was 81-year-old Tej Bahadur Gurung, a veteran of the Malayan Emergency and his wife Kesari Gurung, 77. Both appeared infirm. They were happy enough living in their ancestral village near Pokhara, but the 2015 earthquake destroyed their home. They had the choice of either coming to the UK, or using a grant from Gurkha Welfare Centre to rebuild. They chose to come here.  <h2>Timeline of How Retired Gurkhas Ended Up Residing in the UK</h2> <img width="1400" height="275" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a23679c7e80680e0417e5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1400" height="273" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101136/636a23699c7e80680e0417e6jpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lest-we-forget/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lest we forget</a>, David Seddon Himal Rai, a retired British Gurkha Captain and an activist now says, “After a long struggle Gurkhas who could not complete full service were provided a redundancy package,” says Rai, “however the protests are still ongoing to review the package and for other benefits.”When asked which country they would choose to stay in, nearly all ex-Gurkhas and their families said they would return to Nepal if there was better health care there. On a recent flight back from Heathrow to Kathmandu, the plane was full of elderly Gurkha couples heading back to Nepal to avoid the English winter. One ex-soldier and his wife had re-entered the UK a month ago, but are heading right back to Nepal. He said: “We miss our children, and the land we were born in. We had enough of England, we are going back to Nepal for good.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/cold-comfort/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cold comfort</a>, David Seddon <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-military-migrant-economy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A military-migrant</a> economy, Amanda Chisholm<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/gallipoli-and-the-gurkhas,2271" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Gallipoli and the Gurkhas</a>, David Seddon

Gurkha Grandparents

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

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

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

The Himalaya is not fragile

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

My father’s son

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

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