<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yen Yaa</a> has many popular myths associated with it. But sometimes popularity is shallow. We must dig deeper and uncover the layers through which history has evolved. Only then will we fully appreciate how truly ancient and profound our culture is. Tuesday was a public holiday in Kathmandu Valley for Yeṃ Yāḥ. While we celebrate Yeṃ Yāḥ with much gusto and fervour for a week, ending Saturday, we also lament over how Indrāju, the chief deity worshipped during Yeṃ Yāḥ, and his consort Indrāṇi have been globetrotting, leaving us devotees in a spiritual void. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aC4pMWoYRek?si=m9P5ClcqPqtsczCS" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> As reported by the Facebook page Lost Arts of Nepal, this 38cm tall wooden image of Indrāju and Indrāṇi, originating in Nepāl Maṇḍala in the 17th or 18th century CE, was up for sale last year on 28 September at the Stallion Hill Gallery of Stamford, Connecticut — the same day the Nepal government had declared a holiday in honour of Indrāju. Yaḥsiṃ, also known as Indradhoj, the symbolic wooden pole of Indrāju, was erected Sunday morning at the former royal palace complex in Hanumāndhokā, marking the formal beginning of the mystical and colorful Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="yashim/indradhoj before it is hoisted NT"> <figcaption>Yasih, the symbolic pole of Indra, before it is hoisted.</figcaption> </figure>  The legend goes that on the fourth of the dark half of Bhadra, lord of heaven Indra came to Kathmandu to get the Parijāt flower (night-blooming jasmine, Nyctanthes arbor-tristis), which his mother needed to perform a sacred ritual in honour of goddess Vasundharā. Kathmanduites caught him stealing the flower and tied him up in a wooden pole in a busy marketplace to shame his thieving act — this tradition continues till today by putting up his effigy in street intersections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Indraju tied up on a pole NT"> <figcaption>Indrāju image tied up on a tall machan in Maru, Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  Says cultural documentarian Sandip Maharjan, “People worship Indra that night and offer him hard-to-chew roasted maize, wheat and beans — a kind of a punishment for his misdeed. On this day, Indra is called khuṃ dyaḥ, meaning thief god in Nepālbhāsā.” The festival is celebrated to glorify Lord Indra's visit — though unpleasant — to earth, and hence the name Indra Jatra. Says Jaa Dangol, founder of Lachhi that promotes ethnic food, living, and products, “The full moon day is celebrated in many parts of the Kathmandu valley as Samayabaji Punhi, when every Newāḥ household prepares special food items to distribute it in the neighborhood as a means of earning good karma to help deceased ancestors find their way to heaven.” The food items include puffed rice, black soybean, ginger pieces, marinated buffalo meat and lentil pancake — representing sky, wind, fire, water and earth respectively, the five building blocks of the universe as per Vedic philosophy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Samaybhaji NT"> <figcaption>Ceremonial Samaybaji, the food that represents the universe.</figcaption> </figure>  Indra's celestial elephant Pulu Kisi, and eventually his mother Dāgīṃ, descended to earth looking for the erring Indra, the legend goes on. Both these events are mirthfully acted out in the streets of Kathmandu during Indra Jatra till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812" data-rendition-name="original" width="1788" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dagim, Indra's mother NT"> <figcaption>Dagim, Indra's mother, parading the streets of Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  The older — and possibly original — interpretation of the gala Indra Jatra fest is much more profound than the entertaining story of the thief god Indra. That explanation is connected with the agrarian civilisation of Kathmandu Valley, and its climatic conditions that determine the quality and quantity of agricultural produce. For the indigenous Newāḥ people of Nepāl Maṇḍala, all ancestors have supernatural powers, and hence are divinities. The autumnal festival Yeṃ Yāḥ is celebrated in honor of one particular ancestral deity — Indrāju — in appreciation of his rainmaking capabilities. Indrāju is the conjunct of Indra, the king of heaven, and Āju, the male ancestral divinity. Indrāju has blessed Nepāl Maṇḍala with plenty of rain during the monsoon, hence enabling a bountiful harvest. The people of Nepāl Maṇḍala are now celebrating Yeṃ Yāḥ, at the end of the monsoon, in honour of Indrāju for the rain he sent down to earth from heaven. Another name for Indrāju is Yemāḥ Dyaḥ, from which Indra Jatra's original name — Yeṃ Yāḥ — is derived. Indrāju is easily identifiable with the horizontal third eye on his forehead. He is usually accompanied by the elephant, his vehicle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant "> <figcaption>Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant.</figcaption> </figure>  Indrāju is no doubt the protagonist in this week-long gala. But of equal — if not greater — importance is the exuberant display of Hāthu Dyaḥ, commonly venerated as Vedic deity Bhairava in recent centuries. Why is Bhairav so ubiquitous during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the festival that venerates Indrāju? Numerous images of Hāthu Dyaḥ are brought out from storage and displayed atop special wooden platforms at street intersections throughout the old settlements of Kathmandu Valley during the Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Hathu Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Primordial image of Hāthu Dyaḥ.</figcaption> </figure>  According to Gautama Vajracharya, an eminent Sanskritist and scholar of Newāḥ heritage, Hāthu Dyaḥ is the ancestral sky god who bestows monsoon rains upon the earth. The cult of Hāthu Dyaḥ existed in Nepāl Maṇḍala before the arrival of the Licchavis from northern India in 300 CE. At that time, Hāthu Dyaḥ was venerated by Kathmandu Valley's agrarian population as the male ancestral deity and sky god who bestowed the valley with rain during the monsoon. Putting up a Hāthu Dyaḥ image on a raised platform in the street and carrying out the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual (pouring of home made rice beer from a container behind the Hāthu Dyaḥ image) every day for a week during Yeṃ Yāḥ was a way to thank him for the rains that enabled a good rice plantation season. It is believed that drinking the holy beer that flows from Hāthu Dyaḥ's mouth contributes to one's good health for the rest of the year. An imposing and elaborately decorated image of Hāthu Dyaḥ (specific name: Āju Dyaḥ, meaning male ancestral deity) is brought out from his temple at Vaṃghaḥ, nowadays also known as Indrachowk. This was a major intersection in old Kathmandu that was given the name during Rānā regime because of the image of Indrāju put up on a high platform during Yeṃ Yāḥ. Throughout Yeṃ Yāḥ, the blue Āju Dyaḥ is put up for a resplendent display on a wooden stage, complete with a glistening metal roof and three finials, built just for this purpose.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Aju Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Āju Dyaḥ image put up for display on the street.</figcaption> </figure>  Twice a day during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual takes place here. Āju Dyaḥ is also known as Yelam, derived from the archaic Nepāl Bhāsā word ailam, meaning sky. Hence, a modern name of Āju Dyaḥ is Ākāś Bhairava, literally the sky Bhairava. Hāthu Dyaḥ, Āju Dyaḥ and Bhairava are always depicted by Newāḥ artisans with abstract circular patterns in parts of the face, such as in the eyebrows and around the mouth. These metaphysical shapes are defined by art historians as water foliage — rain drops that make up the cloud. This connects Hāthu Dyaḥ with the sky and rain once more. The trend of giving continuity to Hāthu Hāyeke by using the physical form of Bhairava instead of the primordial Hāthu Dyaḥ took root in the post-Licchavi era (after 879 CE), according to Vajracharya. Essentially, Yeṃ Yāḥ is the autumnal festival that celebrates the end of the rainy season by thanking the ancestral rainmaker deity who underwent transformation from pre-Lichhavi period Hāthu Dyaḥ to the post-Lichhavi period Bhairava. &nbsp;Says Vajracharya, "During the Lichhavi period, he was mostly venerated as Indrāju, the combined form or Vedic god of rain Indra and male ancestor Āju."  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Devi Nach NT"> <figcaption>The ancient Devi Nach performed during the festival.</figcaption> </figure>  All modern forms of Hāthu Dyaḥ are depicted as the Vedic deity Bhairava, the wrathful form of lord Śiva. Hanumāndhokā's Hāthu Dyaḥ, nowadays commonly known as Śveta Bhairava, is a recent one — it was built in the early Śāh period (late 18th century CE). All Hāthu Dyaḥ images look irate and have a third eye. Alok Siddhi Tuladhar is a cultural preservation activist and documentary filmmaker. Tuladhar dedicates himself to preserving Nepal's cultural legacy, aiming to celebrate his roots and inspire younger generations of its value for a better tomorrow. He can be reached at <a href="mailto:alokstuladhar@gmail.com">alokstuladhar@gmail.com</a>.

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Yeṃ Yāḥ

Halucha is a carpenter living a happy life with his big family in Kathmandu’s Maru Hiti in the 1960s handcrafting chairs, tables and temple woodwork. He observes festivals of his Newa community including <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yenya</a>, Indra Jatra, enjoys his favourite choila baji and with friends, and occasionally momocha. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240914040936_b1f8b03dc37e18d45a24c93422715ea0f6480b050683893d0fc5f3a8d6a290ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1833" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT2"> </figure>  But then a big new furniture factory is set up nearby, which takes away the jobs of those with the ancestral occupation of carpentry. Halucha loses his customers.&nbsp; One thing leads to another and by the 1970s, Halucha travels to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">England for work</a> after borrowing money at a high interest rate. London is rainy and dreary, he struggles with the language and at his job. He has no friends, people look at him differently and treat him poorly. He feels lonely and homesick. The isolation affects his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-other-pandemic-mental-health">mental health</a> and before long, he loses his job and is homeless.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240914040952_5ff460d094ce67737cfcdf0bbf88edaadeffd58571806fe91bfc37a962d1390f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1320" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT3"> </figure>  Author Ojesh Singh weaves a layered tale that delves into the universal themes of migration, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">diaspora</a>, mental health, racism, heritage and identity in simple, engaging storytelling style with vibrant illustrations by Sahanshil Dangol in the new Nepali children’s book, London Lakhey. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/brain-gain-into-brain-drain">Brain gain into brain drain</a>, Sonia Awale “Children are smarter than we give them credit for, they have genuine reactions and responses, and the earlier they are exposed to difficult emotions, the sooner they will learn to express them openly and grow up better able to deal with them,” says Dangol on some of the heavier themes underlying London Lakhey. Indeed, as children’s literature, the book does not shy away from difficult topics. This was a very conscious choice, says Singh, who himself went to England in 1999 and is now an aerospace engineer running two restaurants specialising in Newa cuisine in London. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/passing-the-baton-on">The Unstoppables</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar&nbsp; “The story is inspired by some of my own experience when I moved to England and that of people close to me, the not-so-easy beginning, the loneliness,” adds Singh, who is in Kathmandu to launch the book.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240914040956_bc4f28cd93c2b2c568d979707bc0d8a04f37e0fe519e1d8752f952b91a5fdea2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1141" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT"> </figure>  “The first thing we Nepalis seek abroad is a plate of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dal-bhat-power">warm dal bhat</a> and not getting that can be so hard, then there are our festivals, dance and music that we miss so much.” Singh had it relatively easy as his father was already in the UK. But even then, he had to support himself and for the first five years he studied by day, while working at a restaurant at night. Finally, he bought his own restaurant, and another one a few years later. He calls them “Nepali-Indian” restaurants but actually specialise in Newa food, the first of few in the London area. “I do a lot of work virtually so the restaurant for me is like a living room and it is as if I am cooking for my friends and family, it keeps me feeling alive,” says Singh, whose clan home is in Basantapur. He is actively involved in the Pasa Pucha Guthi in London as one of the founding member since its inception in 2000. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepalis-in-the-garden-of-england">Nepalis in the Garden of England</a>, Joy Stephens The Newa-English community in London organises cultural events including performing the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-spirit-that-is-fire">Lakhey mask dance</a> during Mha Puja, also the Newari New Year. This real-life tradition in London serves as an inspiration for the book. “The new generation of Nepali diaspora should know the struggles of their parents, what they went through, some were asylum seekers, others came for better opportunities,” says Singh, stating how this was one of the ideas behind the book, especially as he is himself a father now. A mutual contact brought animator and illustrator Sahanshil Dangol onboard for the book, and the two would go on to work closely for the nearly two years it took for the volume to develop. Dangol works for London-based studios and was previously involved in making commercials and music videos for up-and- coming Nepali artists like Yugal Gurung and Ankit Shrestha.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/memories-of-a-london-nepali-hangout">Memories of a London Nepali hangout</a>, Sunil Pun But what really got him passionate about the book project was the Lakhey element. During his undergrad, Dangol was working on a film to document his cousin’s mask dances in Pokhara but had to shelve it. He has since come across the Nepali Creative Gang, an online collective of artists, writers, game developers, animators and others which helps young talent with guidance and feedback as well as protection for their work. Dangol went on to develop a 4-minute-long stop motion film called Death and Exposure but he always had the Lakhey project at the back of his mind. “It felt like a second chance to work on something close to my heart,” he told Nepali Times in a video interview from London. It also helped that the characters spoke to him. Having moved to London at 11 following his father who was in the army, Dangol never felt like he quite fit in, neither in London, nor in Kathmandu. “Growing up, I didn’t have Nepali friends, and in any case, I didn’t feel like I completely belonged anywhere, and while I didn’t go through everything that Halucha went through in the story, I could still resonate with the character and sympathise with him, it is a relatable story with so many of our friends and families migrating today.” Dangol based the physical attributes of Halucha and other characters on people around him. The last few pages of the book are dedicated to the process of illustration including doodles and sketched studies of Lakhey and his masks. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/getting-behind-the-divine-mask">Getting behind the divine mask</a> The Lakhey mask depicted in the book is a variation of the real thing which is supposed to give devotees divine powers when they wear them. In fact, communities in Kathmandu did not want their actual mask to be represented in the book for fear of offending the deities.&nbsp; Lakhey is a demon in the carnival of God but is worshipped as a deity protecting townspeople of the Newa civilisation. He is depicted as having a ferocious face, protruding fangs, and a mane of red or black hair.&nbsp; During festivals including Indra Jatra which falls on 17 September this year (below), he comes out on the streets and dances in a trance whirling and jumping to the thump of drums.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20240914040936_0d60bd64fe6b3db69c9654e3a90569768ba0caeaaaacd1b46b5ca4e357b21a6e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2170" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 4"> </figure>  On the surface, London Lakhey is a children’s book but since its release, it has found as many adolescent and adult readers who have requested most copies, says Dangol. “I want our children to remember their roots and not be ashamed of it. They can so easily feel embarrassed because they are eating dal bhat for lunch and not burgers and pizza,” says Singh.&nbsp; “We have to own up to our roots but we don’t have to stick to one singular identity either, it can be a mix of Newa and British like in my own persona. This is important for stability and a peace of mind.” ­­  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20240914040936_4af67a538381c66209f7cc834a6b2056857275cc12c2b3a5e3bf6f3f1c1c78c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="London Lakhey review MASK NT 5"> </figure>

Sonia Awale

MASK

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238229c7e80680e0c736cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"/><figcaption>The Gurju Paltan getting ready to kick off the Kumari chariot parade. ALL PHOTOS: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption></figure>Patan has Rato Machindranath, Bhaktapur has Biska, and the Newā people of Kathmandu have Yen yā as their biggest festival.Also known as Indra Jatra, the eight-day centuries old festival is marked by various masked dance prades representing different deities and demons performed in the choks and dabalis of the ancient town.The temples and intersections are lined with oblation of samaya baji and the chariots of Kumari, Bharaiv and Ganesh are paraded around different parts of town on different days.There are many origin stories of the festival, the more common of which is the one where Lord Indra comes to Kathmandu Valley disguised as a human, in search of a parijat flower for his mother Dagini. The locals catch him and parade him in the town center.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The legend behind the myth of Indra Jatra</a>, Desmond DoigA part of the festival is an reenactment of this legend with a representative idol of Indra at the city center, pulu kishi, the white elephant going around town searching for his master and Dagini coming down to earth in search of her son.Some version also say that the festival is the worship of nature and ancestors. In Indra Chok, the Aju dya diety, commonly known as Akash Bhairav, the male ancestor of the indigenous Newā people, is brought down from his sanctum and kept in a raised platform for eight days.Lesser known than Kathmandu, Bhaktapur too celebrates Indra Jatra for eight days a part of which involves taking the idol if Goddess Indrayani for rituals and a Dipawali.Here are some of the different dances and aspects of Yen ya captured by Nepali Times photojournalist Suman Nepali.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238259c7e80680e0c736djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1406"><figcaption>Living god Ganesh looks out of a window during Indra Jatra festival in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238289c7e80680e0c736ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Living goddess Kumari during the Indra Jatra Festival</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372382b9c7e80680e0c736fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>People gather at Basantapur Darbar Square to view the chariot procession and masked dances.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372382f9c7e80680e0c7370jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1428"><figcaption>Devotees pull the chariots of Ganesh, Bhairav and Kumari.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238329c7e80680e0c7371jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1234"><figcaption>President Bidya Devi Bhandari, Mayor of Kathmandu Balen Shah and Deputy Mayor of Kathmandu Sunita Dangol with other dignitaries in Gaddi Baithak.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238359c7e80680e0c7372jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1296"><figcaption>Halchok Bhairav dance</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238389c7e80680e0c7373jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Pulu Kisi</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372383b9c7e80680e0c7374jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1372"><figcaption>Living god Bhairav during teh chariot procession.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372383e9c7e80680e0c7375jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1306"><figcaption>People gather infront of Hatu dya (Swet Bhairav).</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238419c7e80680e0c7376jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1350"><figcaption>Majipa Lakhe</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238449c7e80680e0c7377jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1464"><figcaption>The idol of Akash Bhairav (Aju dya) is put on a raised platform in Indrachok.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238479c7e80680e0c7378jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Indra's mother Dagini, comes down to earth in search of her son.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372384a9c7e80680e0c7379jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Dancers perform Di pyakhan (Devi naach).</figcaption></figure>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPI&amp;feature=emb_logoRead Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-ready-for-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Are you ready for Indra Jatra</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar

Kathmandu marks the Yen yā festival

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d17989c7e80680e0ac777jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Women-only night at Indra Jatra festival where participants drink rice wine from Swet Bhairav’s mouth as a blessing. Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Here is what the image shows:  her face turned towards the sky, her mouth open, catching a fountain of thwon (rice wine), flowing down Hatu Dyaa’s mouth, straight into hers.Her eyes are shut, like they were caging inside them a perfect moment of desire. It is an image from a day at the Indra Jatra week, now, popularly known as a women-only night at the festival.“How was it?” I ask her.“It was exhilarating!” she texts back.In 2017, the Yenya or Indra Jatra committee set aside a day for women to drink from Hatu Dyaa (Swet Bhairab) an activity which in the past had not been segregated by gender, and was therefore accessible mostly to men.“It gets quite rowdy,” my friend says. And explains she had gone prepared with a “quick dry tee and shoes and all”. She says she would love to do it again and I assure her I would join her.Growing up in Naradevi Tole, tucked away in old Kathmandu, Yenya was the focal point of the year for me, and not any other festival. In the evenings, the family would set out for a walk through the festivities.One time, my काका raised me through a crowd of men, taking me all the way to where the wine was trickling down the mouth of Swet Bhairav. I carry a faint memory of being scooped up from the ground and being flung under the massive face of the deity as some wine spray hit me.As a grown-up, however, I have only experienced the ceremony from a distance. I got on a call this week with some girlfriends who had attended the event in 2019, and felt an excitement rise in my belly, looking at images of them jostling to get under the wine tap.“I definitely want to do it again,” Anbika Giri laughed. “It was hard to push others and go all the way to the wine pipe, but I still managed. It splashed  over my face, body, mouth, my hair. But I also came away with a sense of achievement.”Bhawana Gurung, who was alongside Anbika that evening, did not exactly get to drink, but was definitely showered on as she got shoved around in the crowd: “I came home smelling like thwon.”Anbika recalls how everyone around her looked overwhelmed by the experience, despite clothes and hair that had become soaked in rice wine. She calls the experience a way of exercising your will. She calls it a symbol.“I saw it as a way of choosing. To push your way through the crowd and then to compete to drink — not everyone gets to do it. But the thing is, you’re not being hindered. You’re making a choice to experience it,” says Anbika. “Fun events for Nepali women are limited. We’re told that enjoyment is not right. We internalise it. So this activity is a symbol to reverse that. Even if it was water instead of wine, people would still go. It is about claiming space.”Coming from a Janjati community, Bhawana has experienced more “freedom” than her friends from other communities. “I think it’s a privilege that we don’t have to observe seclusion when we’re on our periods. I’ve also had freedom of mobility. But my mother would still bar me from drinking alcohol, which means that even within our community, my freedom is inferior to that of a man. So, the event for me was not so much about drinking, as much as it was about participating at free-will.”Bhawana’s main take away: “We have festivals where women aren’t allowed to go to temples or attend certain festivals. If this festival can be inclusive, so can the others.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d179c9c7e80680e0ac778jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Festivals, in different cultures, are known to restrict women’s freedom as they are mostly confined to kitchen duties, while men revel. Then, there is also the sunset curfew for women. The liberty for women to drink from a deity, has also been seen a mark of how women have the right to be outside their homes at night, participating in celebrations alongside their male relatives and friends.Ever since drinking from the Swet Bhairav spout opened to women five years ago, women clamouring before Hatu Dyaa, have been some of the most viewed photos on social media. While a lot of these images clearly come from the male gaze, there is also the photo-opportunity side to it, the two strands representing two very different things.Anbika says media has glamorised the event like it has always done with events where women and drinks come together. She also cites examples of front-page images from Tundikhel during festivals like Udhauli, Ubhauli and Sonam Lhosar, where it is always young women who are splashed across the pages. There is certainly the risk of over glamorisation of an event eclipsing the meaning of it, she argues.Some images of women drinking at Indra Jatra, however, have come to represent the other side of the gaze. They depict women as aspirants to be seen as equals in a society where the festive nightlights and the right of participating in a fun activity are male entitlement.Bhawana argues that the festival, with so many female deities at its centre, must have always had women at the heart of it. “When I watched <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPI">Anil Chitrakar</a> talking about how Indra’s mother makes the journey from Heaven to Earth to rescue her son, I instantly thought of how the festival’s crux was a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">woman’s journey</a> and how that is an empowering story in itself.”Even though Bhawana moved to Kathmandu many years ago and lived in Patan, she says she has never felt like she could be a participant in the jatras of the valley, however, a sentiment that Anbika echoes: “People who are migrants to Kathmandu shy away from local festivals even though we live here. And no one invites us. Who takes the first step to make them more inclusive is also a thing.”Asha Thapa, who has been quietly listening to our banter interrupts: “I will surely attend the festival in a pandemic-free world for the experience. I come from a community where even as someone in my late 20s, I’ve never had alcohol with my parents and to give women an opportunity to drink publicly seems me like a way of saying that the culture is making space for women to be who they want. Whether to drink or not, is also a choice women should get to make, don’t you think?”For over a decade now, I have sauntered around Basantapur alone during Yenya, observing its many eccentricities and critiquing its ways that are beyond my comprehension and sense of agreement. But I have also thought that if a festival can keep improvising to make way for changes in society, it also means there is hope that the culture will keep up with its people.And so, in a pandemic-free world, I will probably jostle alongside my girlfriends, sharing a moment with them before Hatu Dyaa. For I have learned that sometimes it takes a moment in our memory to set us free.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Wine and women during Yenya

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02849c7e80680e0a3685jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"/><figcaption>President Bidya Devi Bhandari and Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba attend Constitution day celebration at the army pavilion on Tundikhel on Sunday. Photos: RSS</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02889c7e80680e0a3686jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="426"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d028b9c7e80680e0a3687jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="426">Nepal’s new federal constitution was promulgated in 2015, but even six years later it is a contested document. While President Bidya Devi Bhandari, Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba were attending a regimented celebration at the army pavilion on Tundikhel, demonstrators nearby were getting ready to march to Parliament to protest the document.The anniversary of the Constitution on 19 September also this year coincided with the start of the Indra Jatra festival, which was much better attended and had more public attendance than the events both for and against the Constitution.After they watched an Army Parade and helicopter flyby, President Bhandari and Prime Minister Deuba went over to Hanuman Dhoka to observe Nepal’s Living Goddess Kumari being pulled in a chariot in front of the Gaddi Baithak.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d028e9c7e80680e0a3688jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02909c7e80680e0a3689jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">Nepal's Constitution day this year coincided with Kathmandu's Indra Jatra festival, which was much better attended than the events both for and against the Constitution. Photos: AMIT MACHAMASICritics of the Constitution say that it is not an inclusive document, treats women and minorities as second-class citizens, and guarantees social justice and human rights only on paper. The Constitution Amendment March was organised by civil society activists calling themselves the ‘Brihat Nagarik Andolan’ (People’s Movement).‘The 'Constitution Amendment March' with the excluded and maginalised communities including Madhesi, Tharu, Janajati, Dalit, minorities, Muslim and landless squatters who consider the constitution incomplete will head to the parliament on Sunday 2PM.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02949c7e80680e0a368ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="533"><figcaption>Writer and activist Narayan Wagle was part of the 'Brihat Nagarik Andolan' protest demanding the amendment to the Constitution on Sunday.</figcaption></figure>Nepal’s Constituent Assembly adopted the new constitution in 2015 after deliberating on it for seven years, even as the draft was contested by some sections of the society, most notably the politicians from the Tarai, leading to the unrest in the southern plains. This was the precursor for the five months long blockade imposed by India.For the past six years, Madhes-based­ parties have been up in arms about the new constitution. This year, the Janata Samajbadi Party (JSP) decided not to take part in the Constitution Day celebrations and the newly-formed Democratic Socialist Party led by Mahanth Thakur marked the day as a black day.‘The Maoist insurgency, the Madhes Movement, the Tharu Rebellion, and struggles of women, indigenous people, Dalits, Muslims delivered Nepal its democratic, secular, federal republic that constitutionally guaranteed inclusion, but it is well known that the state has created obstacles to attain those objectives at every step,’ read a statement by the rally organisers.It went on: ‘The actions of the political parties and main pillars of the state since the Constitution was promulgated prove the necessity of continued vigilance and struggle to protect and institutionalise the gains.’<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02979c7e80680e0a368bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="533"><figcaption>People with a placard that calls Constitution Day as as the black day.</figcaption></figure>Nepal’s Constituent Assembly had to be elected twice in 2008 and 2013 to finally adopt the new constitution in 2015 after deliberating on it for seven years, even as the draft was contested by some sections of the society, most notably the politicians from the Tarai, leading to unrest in the southern plains. This precipitated the five month long border blockade by India.For the past six years, Madhes-based parties have been up in arms about the new Constitution, and have been agitating for greater representation and autonomy. This year, the Janata Samajbadi Party (JSP) which is part of the ruling coalition decided not to take part in the Constitution Day celebrations and the newly-formed Democratic Socialist Party led by Mahanth Thakur marked the day as a ‘black day’.Meanwhile, more than two months after he became prime minister, Deuba has still not been able to form a complete Cabinet as haggling goes on over division of ministerial portfolios. Internal divisions within parties and between them have threatened to split the coalition even before it can form a full government.

Nepal’s contentious Constitution Day

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be09c9c7e80680e083e01jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1508" height="1126"/><figcaption>A rare Blue Moon rising over Kathmandu on 31 October. There will not be another one till 2039. Photo: Kunda Dixit</figcaption></figure>The lichened terrace wall chaffs the back of my legs and jasmine scent floods the night air as I wait for the blue moon to rise. The gradated rosy glow of sunset has etched the forest trees a black silhouette against the sky fading along the Kathmandu Valley rim. A chorus of crickets shrills in the bushes, and my bare feet can just detect the lost glow of afternoon sun in the terracotta tiles.Blocked by the bulk of Shivapuri looming behind the house, the dappled golden orb was slow to reveal herself above the horizon, sailing stately into the navy night sky. The rare spectacle of a spooky full moon on Halloween 31 October visible all around the globe has not occurred since 1944, 76 years ago deep in the last dark days of World War II. The next one will not be until 2039. I shivered, even though it was not a cold evening.It’s complicated, but a so-called blue moon is when a year has 13 full moons instead of the usual 12, the name given to the third full moon in a season that has four moons (normally a quarter year has three full moons). However more recent usage refers to when two full moons fall within the same month, as happened the other night very exceptionally on Halloween.But one thing is sure - the moon never looks blue and the event is not particularly unusual. A normal lunar cycle is 29.53 days, so two full moons are squeezed into one month about every two or three years, or seven times in 19 years to be exact. Although the origin of the name is hazy, I like the fanciful speculation that the term is derived from archaic English belewe or belaewe meaning ‘to betray’ because the extra moon "betrays the usual perception of one full moon per month."<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0a09c7e80680e083e02jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1424" height="1058"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>So why ‘once in a blue moon’ to denote something that almost never happens, extremely seldom, absurd or an indefinitely long time? Under extraordinary and rare atmospheric conditions the moon has been known to appear blue, and indeed sunsets turn green and the sky red, due to dust and smoke particles caused by prolonged droughts and the volcanic explosions of Krakatoa, Mount St Helen, and Pinatubo.In the West we have become dislocated from the celestial cycles, preferring our high days and holiday dates fixed and predictable on the annual calendar. Moons get a bad rap, unreliably made of green cheese and linked with lunacy, and blue moon crooners allude to sadness and loneliness in their songs. Easter is one of the few annual moveable feasts in the liturgical year, preceded by Lent and Holy Week and finishing with Pentacost, fifty days later. This week we mark Poppy or Remembrance Day in memory of all those lost in conflict, fixed at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the moment that the Armistice was signed in 1918.On the other hand, people of the Himalaya are totally at ease with the mystery of lunar calendars which determine all religious festivals, life celebrations and even government rule in Nepal, as well as tsechus in Bhutan, purnima Hindu rituals and Buddhist traditions. Comfortable with uncertainty, astrologers presided over everything from royal decision making to sacred ceremonies, to ordinary existence, rites of passage, and practical concerns such as auspicious dates for travelling, initiating projects and even finding missing property.Soon after arriving in Nepal, some cash went missing from a bedroom in the Sanepa guest house where I was staying. To resolve the acrimony and accusations, the whole household repaired to a low dark room deep in the Kathmandu bazar, traipsing up a narrow staircase with bowed heads to settle around a lady psychic seated against the wall. A blue shawl shrouded her head and a shy little boy leaned against her knee. Swaying forward she muttered incantations, then consulted the boy’s palm that had been carefully smeared with a shiny black paste. We waited in awed expectation. Sure enough, the revelation on that tiny hand was able to describe a clear vision of someone entering the room, opening the trunk and taking the money. The thief was identified, and we all returned home satisfied and relieved.Cosmology governs the sequence of spectacular festivals that mark the Valley’s seasons and 12-year cycles, integral to normal existence for local inhabitants and core tourism attractions for visitors. I used to bike and hike through the dirt lanes and paddy fields to distant villages and far-flung temples, sampling the celebrations, witnessing the pujas, and processing with the pilgrims. I mixed with the colour-drenched crowds who concentrated in the Durbar Squares for vibrant festivals observed unchanged over centuries.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0a39c7e80680e083e03jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0a69c7e80680e083e04jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1160"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0a99c7e80680e083e05jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1602" height="1142"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One Indra Jatra I found myself in the royal rana magnificence of the great room of Kathmandu’s Hanuman Dhoka Durbar, overlooking the square thronged with worshippers and pyramids of people packed onto the temple steps. As privileged guests we mingled with ministers, generals and diplomats in that imposing space beneath the sculpted columns, glittering glass chandeliers and grand vaulted windows. From our vantage on the stucco balcony, we could look directly into the intimacy of the Kumari’s chariot and feel the fervour of the masked dancers.For me it was a once in a blue moon memory, especially precious as that wing of the palace was later destroyed in the 2015 earthquake.

Lisa Choegyal

Once in a Halloween Blue Moon in Kathmandu

Walkabout with Anil: Indra Jatra

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8839c7e80680e0737e7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Parijat night jasmine flowers for which, it is believed, lord of heaven Indra descended upon Kathmandu. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>Indra Jatra, or Yenya, commemorates the descent of a god from heaven dressed in peasant's clothes and bent on a very human pursuit: stealing flowers.The deity concerned was no ordinary god. He was Indra, the Lord of Heaven. When he descended on Kathmandu wrapped in a concealing cloud, no one recognised him. So much so, that when he was discovered gathering parijat night jasmine flowers, people caught and bound him hand and foot like a common thief.For reasons best known to himself, Indra refused to reveal his identity and none suspected it even though his celestial elephant began searching the streets of Kathmandu for him. In heaven, Indra's mother, who had required the parijat flowers for the observance of a festival, grew so anxious at her son's disappearance that she also descended on Kathmandu and lost no time in letting it be known who she and her son were.Great was the people's rejoicing and, presumably, their embarrassment. King and commoner alike celebrated their amazing good fortune with feasts and processions, song and dance. And when their divine guests were about to depart they asked a boon of Indra's mother.Would she take with her to heaven the souls of all those who had died that year? This she readily granted, besides bestowing a gift of her own -- a gentle morning mist that would blanket the Kathmandu Valley during the autumn and winter months to ripen the harvest. Farmers are still apt to call it the gift of milk.As for the souls of the dead, she advised that they form a chain behind her holding on to each other, with the first taking a firm grip on her sari. Away they went like the tail of a great kite. They hadn't travelled far, when something as unfortunate as spiritual vertigo or fatigue caused the chain break and all the souls fell into a lake atop a mountain south of Kathmandu, where bereaved families went to worship and honour them.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8869c7e80680e0737e8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1108" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Today, Kathmandu celebrates Indra Jatra which, fused together with the festival of the living goddess Kumari, and the epic of the Nepali King Yalambar who was slain by Krishna at the battle of the Mahabharata, is Nepal's most colourful celebration. Everyone, from the king, the royal family, ministers, government servants, the general public-even foreign diplomats, are involved.For this is the time of the year when the king receives the blessings of the Kumari who places tika on his forehead. Superstition, well supported by strange circumstance or coincidence, enhances the belief that the Kumari, in fact, bestows upon the king the right to rule for another year. When, on occasion, she has mistakenly placed tika on the wrong forehead dire consequences have resulted.This too is the time when all the valley's Bhairab masks are displayed, particularly the great silver mask that Yalambar wore to battle, and the even larger, bejewelled golden mask of the white Bhairab in the old palace.All over the valley, in city, town and village are strange erections of wood, like wayside crucifixions, to which are tied masked dummies representing the captive Indra. Numerous images of other gods are brought out to watch the festival, for nobody, not even the hosts of heaven, would like to miss so wondrous an event.Hung from a tall pole in the old palace square of Kathmandu is a colourful banner representing the flag presented to Indra by Vishnu. As long as it is there it means that the lord of heaven is in Kathmandu, bestowing upon the city and the country, his blessings and protection. At the foot of the pole is a small cage, both confining and enshrining an image of Indra and a golden elephant, his traditional mount. They represent the god's captivity, so many long legends ago.The pole itself is invested with significance. Some days before the festival begins, a government appointed priest and a select group of men from Kathmandu make for a pine forest not far from Bhaktapur. There, following ancient ritual and on-the-spot portents, they select a tree, offer prayer and blood sacrifice and after felling it, drag it in procession to the potters' village of Thimi.Men of Thimi bear it to Kathmandu's Tundikhel from where it is finally taken to the old palace square in Kathmandu by men of the city. There follows a blessing by the royal priest, who comes accompanied by soldiers in the olden uniforms of King Prithvi Narayan's Gorkha army carrying muskets and swords, and marching to a military band out of history. As the pole is raised into position, cannons boom and music plays.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPIWhen the festival is done, the great pole is taken in procession to the river Bagmati where it is immersed, cut into pieces to feed the perpetual flame that burns at yet another Bhairab shrine on the river bank. So much for the living, for whom the Indra and Kumari jatras are carnivals of numerous attractions: dances representing the demons Lakhe and Dagini, enactments of the mortal incarnations of Vishnu, folk dramas, processions of masked 'deities,' a dancing elephant made of bamboo, painted cloth and human legs, and the massive trundle of the Kumari's rath, followed by lesser chariots of the living Ganesh and Bhairab, virgin boys selected in much the same way as the Kumari. And there is the king who can be seen more closely and more relaxed than at any other official occasion.For the dear departed are processions of lights and symbolic processions of men and women, holding onto each other in the way the spirits of old held hopefully to the sari of Indra's heaven-bound mother. There are prayers and fasts and feasts, and finally every bereaved family sends at least one member to the mountain top lake where the spirits once fell.For those who like a more scholarly reason for festivals such as this, it is thought that the warrior king, whose Aryan forces overpowered India, inevitably turned his attention to the Himalaya. Perhaps the warlike hill people nagged his flanks. Leading an army against them, he was captured and held prisoner until he promised some boon of settlement. The great Nepali king Yalambar ruled Nepal at the time. No one less than a god, and the Lord of Heaven at that, could have fought and come to terms with him: an interesting thought as festival chariots toll through Kathmandu.An artist, writer, and designer, Desmond Doig moved from Calcutta to Kathmandu in the 1970s, and made the Valley his home. He died in Pokhara in 1984. Nepali Times has serialised chapters from his book, In the Kingdom of the Gods, from which this piece is extracted.

The legend behind the myth of Indra Jatra

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a587f9c7e80680e05483bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1886"/><figcaption>All photos: SAMIR SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>As Kathmandu got ready to celebrate Yenya Punhi (Indra Jatra) with its Kumari chariot procession last week, the masked dancers were also getting ready for their popular street performances.Laxman Ranjit was inside the Lakhey House in the Basantapur Square in Kathmandu, preparing for the ritual. The dancers do not just don masks, leg bells, and colourful flowing skirts, they have to actually go into a divine trance where they become the embodiment of the gods and demons they represent.Whoever wears the mask gets energy from it, and is consumed by its holy aura. As other devotees help Laxman Ranjit get dressed up, his demeanour changes. It looks like the spirit is already entering his body.Finally, a white turban is wrapped on his head which will hold the mask on his head. Four men  hold Ranjit on either side to restrain him as the red lakhey mask is put on.As he is led to the door, there are some rituals to perform: an oil lamp is waved in front of his face as Ranjit’s body starts to shake – at first imperceptibly, but with more and more energy.  Outside on the street, hundreds of people are waiting eagerly for the first lakheys to emerge, as they have for centuries before.Once out of the Lakhey House Laxman Ranjit’s energy explodes like a volcano. The shouts and screams of the crowd seems to energise him even more as he leaps, and spins like a dervish.Masked dancers are ordinary people going about their daily jobs the rest of the year, but at Indra Jatra, designated masked dancers are possessed by the divine spirit and can change into powerful demons or gods just by putting on the holy mask.It is the power of faith, devotion and a responsibility to carry on the culture of their forebears that keeps this festival of the Kathmandu Valley Civilisation alive.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58829c7e80680e05483cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1762"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58859c7e80680e05483djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1887"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58889c7e80680e05483ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1869"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a588c9c7e80680e05483fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1765"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a588f9c7e80680e054840jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1950"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58929c7e80680e054841jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1933"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58959c7e80680e054842jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1993">Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-celebrates-yenya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu celebrates Yenyā</a>, Monika Deupala

Getting behind the divine mask

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57119c7e80680e0547bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4096" height="2730"/>This week Kathmandu celebrates Indra Jatra — the chariot festival presided over by none other than the Living Goddess Kumari.Locally known as Yenyā, the festival dedicated to the god of rain Indra, is marked with much enthusiasm and devotion by Hindus and Buddhists alike in Kathmandu Valley, and is celebrated for eight days with singing, dancing and feasting.Ritual dances — featuring masked demons, gods and goddesses are performed in various parts of the Valley. Kathmandu’s famous Lakhey dancers are also part of the chariot procession.Monika Deupala on Monday was in Basantapur to capture glimpses of the first day of the annual festival.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57159c7e80680e0547bfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57189c7e80680e0547c0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a571b9c7e80680e0547c1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a571e9c7e80680e0547c2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57219c7e80680e0547c3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a57249c7e80680e0547c4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2106" height="1404">A Nepali Times video of last year's Indra Jatrahttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqjg2X00SCQRead also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/prepping-for-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Prepping for Indra Jatra</a><a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10881#.XXdTLC4zaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">When Indra was caught stealing</a>, Desmond Doig

Are you ready for Indra Jatra?

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

When Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) president Rabi Lamichhane was arrested in October on charges of defrauding depositors of cooperatives, the party’s vice president Swarnim Wagle gifted him Fareed Zakaria’s book, Age of Revolutions.
Since then, Lamichhane has been shunted around from Kathmandu to Pokhara to Chitwan and back to Pokhara to attend police investigations and court proceedings. He was being flown to Birganj via Kathmandu on Buddha Air on Monday. There is another pending case in Janakpur.
Human rights groups and civil society have criticised the government for hounding Lamichhane with inhumane treatment that borders on physical torture. The two parties in the coalition, Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, see Lamichhane’s RSP as a potentially formidable challenge to their power.
Even if the fraud charges against Lamichhane are true, the Nepali public is increasingly looking at the government’s actions through the police and courts as political vendetta.
Despite all the travelling, sometimes by plane and often by road at night, Lamichhane appears to be in high spirits, waving to supporters who often gather if they know he is going to be driven around. A social media video shows him giving high fives to fellow passengers on a recent flight to Pokhara.&nbsp;
In the past weeks, streets in Pokhara have erupted with parallel protests by Lamichhane’s supporters as well as depositors of cooperatives who lost their savings to the scam.&nbsp;
Although family visits are allowed, prison officials in Pokhara told Nepali Times that not many people visit Lamichhane these days. He added, “When he does get visitors, he asks them to bring him books.”
Lamichhane is currently Nepal’s most high-profile public figure in custody, and highlights the stark difference between how influential prisoners are treated compared to ordinary inmates.
There are six prison cells at Kaski District Police Office’s two-story detention centre, three on each floor. And while authorities pack prisoners into already overcrowded cells, Lamichhane has an entire room on the second floor to himself.&nbsp;
He has also been allowed to call his family every few days. Other prisoners are not permitted phone calls except for emergencies.
Meanwhile, Lamichhane’s former business partner Chhabilal Joshi, an ex-Deputy Inspector General of Police with whom he established his Gorkha Media Network, is in custody under the same charges in the prison cell next to him.
Lamichhane is accused of siphoning off depositors' money to the tv network in which he was part-owner and anchor. &nbsp;
Both Lamichhane and Joshi are able to buy food from the police canteen instead of being served the regular meal like other prisoners. Joshi has also given his statement to authorities in Rupandehi and Kathmandu for his alleged role in the scam. Lamichhane is yet to be presented in Kathmandu for questioning.
While he was in custody at the Kathmandu District Police Complex, Joshi expressed his desire to sleep in a police officer’s office, reportedly assuring authorities that he would not run away and he was entitled to certain facilities as a former officer of the law.
“He seemed to be under the impression that he is still a police officer,” says a source at the Kathmandu District Police. “We made it clear to him that as someone accused of a crime, he was not entitled to special treatment.”
Former ministers Balkrishna Khand and Top Bahadur Rayamajhi, and ex-home secretary Tek Narayan Pandey, who were arrested in connection with the fake refugee scam last year, were similarly housed in the offices of law enforcement officials instead of prison cells. Khand has since been released after six months in jail.
While there is no legal provision to keep high-ranking officials in separate detention centres when they are arrested, authorities granting them special facilities is not uncommon. Law enforcement officials say VIP detainees expect preferential treatment while in police custody.
Among those is former Kosi Province minister Lila Ballav Adhikari, who was arrested from Biratnagar on 10 November over his alleged involvement in human trafficking and brought to Kathmandu. Adhikari had flown to Japan without government approval with three individuals on 29 October to attend a cultural conference, but had been sent back to Nepal from Narita.&nbsp;
His three companions were arrested at Kathmandu airport upon their arrival, but Adhikari was able to exit unscathed from the VIP lounge. Adhikari had resigned as the Kosi Province Minister for Internal Affairs and Law when it became public that his companions had been taken into custody, and was himself arrested shortly after. He has since been cleared by the courts.
Throughout his detention, Adhikari was kept separately from other inmates. Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP) Basant Rajouri, head of the Bhadrakali complex, says that while there is no separate detention area for VIPs, some detainees are kept separately depending on the nature of their crime.
However, sources say that arrangements were made for retired judges and others to visit Adhikari frequently worked at the office of a Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) during his time in custody.&nbsp;
“He used to constantly pester the authorities to let him sit outside in the sun, and to be able to use the police officer’s shower area,” added an officer.
Adhikari was released on 25 November after the government prosecutor’s office decided not to charge him in a move that was seen to expose the government’s double standards.
Over at Kathmandu’s Dilli Bazar Prison, former Kist Bank CEO Kamal Gyawali emerges from his prison cell into the courtyard of the prison’s ‘Ka (क)’ block every morning with a thick book in his hands, ready to give his daily sermon.
With his long beard, Gyawali, who is serving a prison sentence for banking fraud, looks the part of a religious guru as he implores his rapt listeners to “walk the right path, abandon bad thoughts and turn to scripture and spirituality”.&nbsp;
Afterward, the attendees gather to discuss politics and current affairs. Inmates at his daily sermons at the prison include other high-profile detainees, including former MP Ichchha Raj Tamang, who is in jail for money laundering and cooperatives fraud, former joint secretary Chudamani Sharma, who was convicted of corruption, as well as NC leader Chandra Bahadur Lama and Krishna Bahadur Upreti of the UML both of whom are on trial for embezzling billions of rupees.
Victims of the cooperatives scam that former lawmaker Tamang was involved in have made trips to the prison and requested visits, but he has refused to meet with any of them.
“Tamang often complains that the state has prevented him from returning the money to the victims by locking him up,” says a police officer at the Dili Bazar jail.
“All you hear every day from the VIP prisoners is that they have been framed,” adds the officer. “No one admits that they were involved in misdeeds.”
But while most high-profile prisoners complain about prison conditions, one exception is former provincial lawmaker Deepak Manange, who is serving a sentence at Dilli Bazar Jail for attempted murder.
“He is the happiest prisoner here,” says a warden. “Unlike the others, he doesn’t claim to have been framed, in fact he doesn’t seem to care that he is in prison.”
Manange is detained in the ‘Kha (ख)’ block of the prison complex, which he renovated at his own expense. The block previously housed female prisoners, but Manange used his influence to transfer them elsewhere. He faces no shortage of visitors, who range from political leaders to people from the underworld.
Along with Manange, other well-known prisoners in this block include Nepal Telecom Managing Director Sunil Poudel, and former executive director of the Surakshan Printing Centre Bikal Poudel, who are serving time for corruption.
Former prisoners at Dilli Bazar prison include ex-ministers Khum Bahadur Khadka and Shyam Sundar Gupta, NC leader Ganesh Lama, Maoist MP Balkrishna Dhungel, Nagarik Unmukti Party leader Resham Chaudhary, as well as former IGs Ramesh Chand Thakuri, Om Bikram Rana, and Hem Bahadur Gurung.
Section 54 of Nepal’s Prison Act assigns each prison’s internal administration the
responsibility of governing its prisoners, which means the more favourable the jail management is, the more comfortable it is for prisoners.
Dilli Bazar prison has been the prison of choice for many high-ranking prisoners, especially those convicted of white collar crimes, due to its more accommodating administrators. The prison, which has the capacity to house 700 inmates, is also less crowded than other jails.
Anuj Bhattarai, spokesperson of the Department of Prison Management, says that there is no legal classification in Nepal for felons to be assigned prisons based on the nature of their crimes.
“That Dilli Bazar Jail has a higher number of prisoners convicted of crimes like corruption is most likely a coincidence,” says Bhattarai. “There is no provision for influential people to be able to choose where they will be incarcerated.”&nbsp;
Translated by Shristi Karki from the Nepali original published in himalkhabar.com

What Nepal’s VIP prisoners do in jail

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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