<figure><img width="640" height="736" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc5b9c7e80680e08bc1ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photos: MINGMA GYALJE SHERPA</figcaption></figure>When he was a boy, Mingma Gyalje Sherpa, used to look out the window of his home in the Rolwaling Valley at the imposing west face of Mt Chobutse. It was dwarfed by higher nearby peaks like Gauri Shankar and Melungtse, but the 6,686m high mountain’s sheer beauty had an irresistible pull.His village was at 4,200m and the boy used to take the family yak herd to graze in high pastures up to 5,300m every monsoon and gaze at the surrounding peaks from sunrise to sunset.“My relatives would bring back chocolates from foreign climbers, and I used to think that if I became a porter, I would also get to eat lots of chocolates,” he smiles.At age 19, he joined his uncle who was with a Japanese expedition on Manaslu. He reached 6,400m but had to turn back due to bad weather. He joined another expedition on Lhotse, which also abandoned the climb halfway. In 2009, he climbed Mt Everest, and later climbed it five times, but he always had the urge to climb for himself and not for others.Mingma G, as he now calls himself, decided to climb Chobutse solo to fulfill his childhood wish, and also because it was more difficult than the higher peaks he had climbed. Everyone told him it was a crazy idea, and he himself agreed. He made it to the top in 2015, and was snowed in for two days on the way down, but survived.He then went on to climb other challenging Rolwaling peaks like Chekigo and Parchamo, as well as other climbs of Ama Dablam, Paldor and Himlung. <img width="1230" height="663" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc5e9c7e80680e08bc1bjpeg.jpg" alt="">Mingma G is that new breed of Nepali mountaineers who do not just help foreigners get to the top, but climb for the sheer adventure. That is why he decided to take a team to K2 in December 2020—because the second highest mountain had never been climbed before in winter.  Located in the Karakoram on the Pakistan-China border, K2 lives up to its nickname as 'the savage mountain'. One in every five climbers has been killed in trying to climb it. This year alone, four climbers died on K2. K2 is steep, has frequent rockfalls and avalanches, and demands technical skills at high altitude. To do this in winter, when temperatures reach -50 Celsius with hurricane force winds had been considered impossible. "It was very difficult. It was very cold,” says Mingma G with typically laconic understatement.     Given the background of the Nepali climbers he grew up around, Mingma G empathises with the plight of the porters from Baltistan, Pakistan. "While trekking base camp, they were carrying our load but they were eating less, sleeping on snow in thin sleeping bags and think mattresses...they are the ones who made our K2 successful in the beginning," he writes on his Instragram. Mingma’s all-Sherpa Nepali expedition arrived at Base Camp in December after a four-day march-in and immediately started fixing ropes on the mountain. As founder of Imagine Nepal, Mingma and other Nepalis had financed their expedition with a GoFundMe campaign because of loss of income due to the Covid-19 pandemic. After numerous setbacks due to weather and poor health, Nepali member of three other expeditions decided at Base Camp to make their own attempt to climb K2. This was his chance to make an assertion of national pride and endorse homemade Himalayan mountaineering competence.  "It was a spontaneous decision, we met Nims Purja on the mountains and talked about climbing together not for individual glory, but for national pride, so we teamed up,” he recalls.On the night of 16 January, the ten Nepali climbers were in Camp III at 7,365m. The wind was howling, it was bitterly cold, and team members were reporting signs of frostbite, and the altitude was beginning to take its toll."It took us three or four minutes to cover every step," Mingma recalls. "K2 is much more difficult than Mt Everest.”The ten climbed all day, past the Bottleneck, the treacherous near-vertical slopes with blue ice,  and finally the gentle slope before the summit dome. There, the Nepalis had decided not to go to the top one by one, wait for everyone 10m below the summit, and walk up collectively. <img width="1227" height="1543" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111011110/636ccc629c7e80680e08bc1cjpeg.jpg" alt="">It was 5PM on 16 January when they joined hands, sang the Nepali national anthem and took collective steps to the summit where they waved Nepali double triangle flag. They had done it: the first ever winter ascent of K2, the latest and greatest feat in mountaineering for the team.“We did it to make the argument about who arrived first, irrelevant. We climbed the peak together, we sang the national anthem together,” says Mingma, who considers it his most important climb.  After all those Everest summits, Lhotse, and even the difficulty on Chobutse, K2 in winter was a whole new dimension. But Mingma has barely any time to rest. He has a busy schedule ahead in 2021, with plans to climb Annapurna in March, Mt Everest and Lhotse again in April-May with clients. In June, he is going back to K2 and other Karakoram peaks. In September, he will be in Kathmandu only for two days before heading off to Manaslu.Even with all the physical and mental toll that climbing takes, Mingma is happy doing what he is doing. There is a tinge of concern that he puts his family members through so much worry, but they also understand that climbing is his passion.Mingma’s other worry is that he can only sustain his own climbing by guiding clients to summits. This is a dangerous profession, and as he gets older he will have to find ways to pay for his own future adventures. But the smile on his face shows that he is not really that worried: “I'm young now, I'm strong, everyone wants me to climb.”

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K2 and life’s other mountains

<figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd3089c7e80680e08f946jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Sonu Sherpa of Seven Summit Treks on the top of K2 on 16 January at 5pm. Photo: Seven Summit Treks</figcaption></figure>While their political leaders back home in Kathmandu fought tooth-and-nail for power, ten Nepali climbers from different expeditions decided to work together last week to achieve the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/all-nepali-winter-first-on-k2/">first-ever winter ascent of the last 8,000m peak</a>.In a remarkable show of solidarity, ten exhausted Nepali mountaineers waited 10m below the summit for everyone to catch up, and then took the final steps together to the top of K2, singing Nepal’s national anthem in unison.  This unique demonstration of unity put the leaders of Nepal’s ruling Nepal Communist Party (NCP) and other political parties to shame for wasting nearly three years in an endless power struggle that has paralysed governance.Immersed in rancorous name-calling, none of Nepal’s political leaders (except the RPP’s Kamal Thapa) has found it necessary to mention or congratulate the climbers for their record-breaking climb that has been praised by the mountaineering community worldwide. <iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Ffb.watch%2F3de6cPZqPR%2F&amp;width=500&amp;show_text=false&amp;appId=975519809274828&amp;height=626" width="500" height="626" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; picture-in-picture; web-share"></iframe> The winter ascent of the 8,611m high mountain on the Pakistan-China border had been attempted many times in the past 30 years, and the successful climb by the Nepalis has been hailed as a singular mountaineering achievement.Nepal’s high altitude guides have assisted many international expeditions on K2 and other mountains in Nepal to get to the top, this time they united their effort to set a world record and demonstrate that anything is possible when Nepalis work together.The ten Nepalis from three different expeditions were Nirmal Purja, Gelje Sherpa, Mingma David Sherpa, Mingma G, Sona Sherpa, Mingma Tenzi Sherpa, Pem Chhiri Sherpa, Dawa Temba Sherpa, Kili Pemba Sherpa and Dawa Tenjing Sherpa. Despite unrelenting wind and cold, with temperature dipping to -70Celsius, the Nepalis decided not to go individually for the record, but collectively claim the achievement on behalf of Nepal. <figure><img width="1440" height="1800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd3099c7e80680e08f947jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Nims Purja on the summit of K2 on 16 January. He reached the top with other Nepalis, but did not use supplemental oxygen. Photo: NIMS PURJA/FACEBOOK</figcaption></figure>Nima Purja, who set <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nims-purja-does-it/">his own record in 2019</a> by climbing the world’s 14 eight thousanders in a record-smashing six months and six days, was back on K2 to repeat the climb in winter. After descending to Base camp, he disclosed that he had climbed without the use of supplemental oxygen – which makes the feat even more remarkable.“I took a calculated risk this time and I pressed on without supplementary O2. My self confidence, knowing my body’s strength, capability and my experience from climbing the 14 x 8000ers enabled me to keep up with the rest of the team members and yet lead,” Purja wrote on Facebook, laying to rest criticism from some that climbing with oxygen was not fair.He added: “There are many cases, where climbers have claimed no O2 summits but followed our trail that we blazed and used the ropes and lines that we had fixed. Some of which are widely known within the inner climbing community. What is classified as fair means?”  <img width="640" height="623" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd30c9c7e80680e08f948jpeg.jpg" alt="">Another member of the summit team, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/climbermingma">Mingma G</a> is also said he was climbing without using bottled oxygen. K2 is regarded as even more difficult to climb than Mt Everest because of the need for technical climbing in the ‘death zone’ above 8,000m. And winter expeditions face the additional challenge of hurricane force winds and blizzards.In an interview from his Base Camp tent on Monday, Purja told the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-asia-55710125">BBC</a>: “It was super cold and every step we climbed was an effort… just 10m before the summit the whole team stop together and sang the national anthem of Nepal... the team members were quite emotional as well as myself, to make this impossible possible.” But K2 did claim a life this winter – that of Catalan climber Sergi Mingote who fell into a crevasse while descending from Camp I on the same day that the Nepalis were on top.This winter’s K2 climb has been hailed in the international mountaineering community as a major milestone. Mountaineering chronicler <a href="https://www.alanarnette.com/blog/2021/01/16/winter-k2-update-first-winter-k2-summit/?fbclid=IwAR2QJkW8QHwe-oyg_n0zfC7vcK-8IvDWB1Tb20PPQ5YKYE4XmLtENqjBzps">Alan Arnette, who has climbed Everest and K2, wrote on his blog</a>: ‘There have been questions why this Nepali national team was able to accomplish what world-class teams since 1987 have not. My opinion is that they worked as a unified team to get the camps and fixed line in early, they got lucky with the weather, especially in December and early January and on the summit push, they were able to stay healthy and avoid the objective dangers of avalanche and rockfall, they had a strong support team … and they were determined to show the world that Nepali climbers were amongst the best.’ <img width="640" height="512" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111128/636cd30f9c7e80680e08f949jpeg.jpg" alt="">Canadian author of mountaineering books, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bernadette.mcdonald.5">Bernadette McDonald</a>, said the Nepali team had written an important chapter in the history of high-altitude winter climbing. She added in a Facebook post: ‘This remarkable Nepali success is the result of many things: their strength, their abilities in the mountains, their motivation, their willingness to suffer, an amazing weather window and an outstanding collaboration between multiple teams. They formed one unstoppable team, one that paused only once, when they stopped 10 metres below the summit to ensure that all ten members reached the top together. Brotherhood of the Rope!’ McDonald, who is updating her most recent book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Winter-8000-Climbing-Highest-Mountains/dp/1680512927">Winter 8000</a> with the Nepali success on K2, added: ‘It’s hard to imagine a more perfect group of climbers to make the first winter ascent of K2, climbers who have been the backbone of so many successful ascents in the Himalaya, but have rarely reaped the glory.’ Nims Purja used to be in the British special forces, and unfurled a banner with the British and Nepali flags at the summit at 5PM on 16 January. He said: “What kept everyone going was that everybody wanted this to their bone to make the Nepali climbing community proud. It was that mutual support between each other that kept us successful.”

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Nepalis on K2 make the impossible possible

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

You do not have to be a climate expert or atmospheric pandit to claim that Nepal is not pulling its weight on the grand narratives of the Anthropocene. As a heavily populated ‘country-on-an-incline’ from the Tarai to the Himalaya, Nepal is a thermometer of global warming.&nbsp; Its people are human witnesses to environmental and climate breakdown, but remain mute observers to the unfolding crises. Nepal should be leading the pack at the COP30 climate conference in Belém, backed by science and lived experience. But it is doubtful that two of the most crucial climate-related subjects central to the culture, economies and human wellbeing in the Himalaya and South Asia will be discussed at the summit that started this week in Brazil.&nbsp; The first topic that should be raised at COP is Black Carbon or the South Asian Brown Cloud, made up of tiny suspended particles in the air. This is not just a transboundary health hazard, there is now enough science to make the case that Himalayan snowmelt is accelerated significantly by the albedo effect that makes ice melt faster because of reduced reflectivity. But Kathmandu has not been able to make governments near and far listen. In 2014, I wrote a short piece published in Outlook magazine explaining why India’s Prime Minister Modi looking northward from a SAARC Summit retreat in Dhulikhel was unable to see the Jugal Himal range barely 30km away. His view was obscured by the pollution layer arriving from as far away as Lahore with substantial contribution from the Delhi region. That summit itself was an opportunity for Nepal to inform the Indian and Pakistani prime ministers that much of the haze, smog, dust and soot that settles on our slopes was generated in Sindh, Punjab, Punjab, Haryana, Western UP and Delhi NCR, carried by prevailing westerly winds up to the Himalaya. The forest fires within Nepal as well as Kathmandu Valley’s pollution contribute to the haze, but the shroud that suffocates the region through autumn, winter and spring is mostly transnational. Last year, these anthropogenic fine aerosols actually curled over the Bay of Bengal and invaded the airspace of Sri Lanka and Maldives.&nbsp; Even as the soot particles accelerate glacial melt and impact everything from infrastructure to public health, the most visible effect is on tourism. Nepal’s economic future is based on tourism, and much of this relies on being able to see the snow mountains. Why should travellers go to Pokhara if they cannot see the Annapurnas?&nbsp; Hoteliers in Nagarkot have started a campaign: ‘Visit Nagarkot 2025: More than Sunrise and Sunset’. While clever, the slogan is a response to the acclaimed Himalayan vista from Everest to the Annapurnas from the hill station, now obscured by the brown curtain of haze for most of the year. As the bellwether country of South Asia when it comes to the climate crisis, Nepal must build diplomatic confidence to reach out to the governments of Pakistan and India even in their present state of antagonism. Kathmandu must launch ‘haze diplomacy’ for its own sake and for the region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="695" loading="lazy" alt="permafrost"> </figure>  IMPERMANENT FROST&nbsp; Permafrost is understood mostly as a phenomenon of the Arctic, Antarctica, Siberia and Alaska. Mountains elsewhere did not figure, though it was natural for the ground to freeze all year round at high altitudes.&nbsp; In the Himalaya, besides the snowfields and glaciers, frozen moisture binds rocks and stabilises slopes. But global warming is melting the permafrost that used to cement mountain flanks, including boulders, sand and scree slopes. Some of the debris (गेग्रान) did tumble down, but much of it remained entombed on high, thanks to permafrost. Pokhara Valley and the Seti River reaching all the way up to the base of the Annapurnas, is the best place to observe this dance of geology between gravity and the mountain range. Rubble from the collapse about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">700 years ago of paleo-Annapurna IV </a>created the sediment field on which Pokhara is situated today. However, much of the debris from the crumbled mountain is still lodged up on and around Annapurna IV, but the binding is loosening with the warming earth. A <a href="https://www.icimod.org/event/analysing-permafrost-in-the-hindu-kush-himalaya-using-open-access-tools/">2024 report by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a> indicates that global warming is thawing the permafrost across High Asia. Among the unintended consequences of climate breakdown is that mountains and moraines are collapsing, with <a href="https://www.icimod.org/press-release/everest-region-a-hotspot-of-cryosphere-linked-hazards-icimods-new-study-on-nepals-2024-thame-flood-confirms/">cascading impact</a> that includes glacial lake outburst floods, reduced groundwater recharge as well as winter flow in the Ganga, Indus and Brahmaputra. No one has calculated the total volume of rubble locked in by permafrost across the Himalaya. Despite the increased risk, there is accelerated construction of highways, hydropower projects, housing and tourism infrastructure across the Himalaya. While the COP conferences discuss rising oceans and receding glaciers (without doing much about it), Himalayan permafrost has been melting unremarked. In their path-breaking September 2024 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">article in Nepali Times</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and Alton C Byers argued that the extreme events of the past few years that led to mountain and moraine collapses, unleashing destructive debris flows downstream, were the result of melting permafrost. Haeberli and Byers suggest that the avalanches and floods including those of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti (2012)</a>, <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/understanding-the-chamoli-flood-cause-process-impacts-and-context-of-rapid-infrastructure-development/">Chamoli (2021)</a>, Birendra Tal (2023), <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2772883825000251">Sikkim (2023)</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">Thame (2024)</a>, <a href="https://himat.org/publication/byers-rockfall-induced-2019/">Barun (2017)</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">Melamchi (2021)</a> were the result of the thawing of frozen ground. They say that the collapse of the lateral moraine on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak glacial lake</a> in Sikkim on 4 October 2023 that swept away more than 100 people, destroyed the $1 billion Chungthang Dam as well as houses, roads and farms far downstream, was also caused by cloudburst on a lateral moraine that had lost its permafrost adhesive. There will be permafrost sceptics, as there have been climate change deniers. But it is time to wake up to the reality that the Himalayan peaks are no longer the immutable sentinels as regarded by humanity since prehistoric times.&nbsp; Modern society has pumped so much greenhouse gas into the atmosphere that now even the mountains are giving up. And we have not even begun to think about the bacteria and viruses locked away in the permafrost up the slope.&nbsp; Loss of permafrost adds to the cumulative impact of climate breakdown, including extreme weather events, drought and cloudbursts, heat waves in the plains affecting lives and livelihoods, creating mass migration, social unrest, and upending politics and geopolitics. The government and polity of Nepal have a duty to themselves and the larger humanity to wake up to the climate breakdown. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conclave organised by the Government in May failed to emerge as a pulpit for global warming and associated ills. Our political class, bureaucracy and academia should make up for lost opportunities to rise to the occasion and take the lead.&nbsp; Kanak Mani Dixit is writer, commentator and founding editor of Himal Southasian.

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