<img width="500" height="750" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372043d9c7e80680e0b284fjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><img width="1000" height="1500" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372043f9c7e80680e0b2850jpeg.jpg" alt="">Photos: BIKRAM RAI/NEPALI TIMESEarthquakes are inevitable in Nepal. It is not a question of ‘if’, but ‘when’. And ‘when’ was 2:28PM on 15 January 1934. It was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2015/05/27/a-month-that-felt-like-a-year/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">11:56AM on 25 April, 2015</a>. Another memorable and tragic date in future is certain.But Nepalis have short memories. As long as aftershocks shook us, we were reminded about the horrors. But seven years after 2015, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/tall-order/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the fear has evaporated</a>.This is not panic-mongering, or crying wolf. It is reality: every part of the central Himalaya is hit by a megaquake above 8 magnitude every 500 years or so, and a moderate intensity quake every 100 years.The 2015 disaster was not a Big One, 1934 was. Nonetheless, both released some of the built-up tectonic tension underneath us. What worries Himalayan seismologists is that there has been no <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/epicentre-of-two-disasters-in-west-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">major earthquake in western Nepal</a> in the last 500 years. The rock strata beneath are stretched to breaking point.Experts tell us that if an 8M earthquake strikes in this seismic gap between Pokhara and Dadeldhura, it will also rock Kathmandu and be even more damaging than 2015.That <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rebuilding-five-years-after-2015-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">7.8M earthquake seven years ago</a> was comparable to the 7.7M quake in Gujarat in 2001, and the 7.6M temblor in 2005 in Kashmir. In 2015, Nepal saw greater physical damage, but India and Pakistan had much higher casualties. One reason was that we were lucky 25 April 2015 was a Saturday, and students were not in classrooms.To mark National Earthquake Safety Day on 15 January, we recap the past seven years. There is some good news: over 80% of reconstruction is complete. Nepal’s recovery has been smoother than other developing countries hit by mega disasters.  Despite initial delays due to political muddles and the Blockade, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reconstruction in most sectors</a> picked up in 2016. Today, only health facilities and heritage sites are lagging at about 65% completion. Most rebuilt homes follow national seismic resistance guidelines because masons were trained, and there was monitoring before grants were released in installments.However, reconstruction in Kathmandu and other towns have not even passed the 60% mark, and could take another five years. The Rs300,000 reconstruction grant was just not enough for families to rebuild urban homes. More worrisome is that whatever has been rebuilt in Kathmandu Valley mostly flout building codes and permits.The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/building-back-unsafe,3674" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Gongabu neighbourhood saw 160 deaths</a> in 2015, most of them were crushed under illegally built concrete structures. Most of those high rises have been rebuilt using the same faulty techniques.Except in Gongabu, most concrete structures survived the 2015 quake in Kathmandu. This has <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/false-sense-of-security-about-strength-of-reinforced-concrete-structures,2240" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reinforced public misconception</a> that cement houses, regardless of how they are built, are stronger than brick and mortar ones.However, seismologists say that if the tremors in 2015 were only a few seconds longer and the magnitude slightly higher, many of Kathmandu’s concrete buildings would have also collapsed. They are unlikely to be spared in the next big one.Seven years after the earthquake, it is back to business as usual. In fact, Kathmandu is now more dangerous because it is even more densely packed, and there are more multi-storey blocks. Clearly, awareness about earthquakes has not translated into safer construction — we have forgotten that earthquakes do not kill people, poorly built structures do.Surya Narayan Shrestha at the National Society for Earthquake Technology – Nepal (NSET) tells us that building codes need to be strictly enforced with stringent monitoring mechanisms. Municipalities must be stricter with building permits.Next, masons and concrete moulding workers need skills upgrading in earthquake resistant building technology. Security personnel now need <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Search-locate-%20rescue-in-collapsed-concrete-houses,3676" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">training in search and rescue</a> under collapsed concrete structures.Shrestha says schools, hospitals and public buildings need to be retrofitted urgently. Many schools NSET had <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/preparedness-saves-lives,2264" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">helped retrofit</a> withstood the 2015 earthquake, and this model needs to be replicated across western Nepal.Nepal’s towns are losing open spaces, which are vital as shelters in the aftermath of future earthquakes. Kathmandu must <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-artists-butterfly-effect/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">protect remaining open spaces</a>, and these efforts need to be scaled up not just for earthquake safety but also to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mini-forests-to-make-kathmandu-more-liveable/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">restore the city’s lungs</a>.   Preparedness will mean life or death for all Nepalis, not just for those in the seismic gap in the western part of the country. This should be the main message on the National Earthquake Safety Day. Earthquakes are beyond our control, but we can <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">make ourselves safer</a> when they happen.Sonia Awale

Sonia Awale

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Lessons still not learnt

<figure><img width="3600" height="3000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a53ce9c7e80680e05236ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>External Affairs Minister of India S Jaishankar meets with Prime Minister KP Oli in Kathmandu on Wednesday.</figcaption></figure>The overnight visit to Nepal by India’s Minister for External Affairs S Jaishankar was an effort to reboot relations with Nepal, deeply wounded by New Delhi’s <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/autopsy-of-a-blockade%20,2863" target="_blank" rel="noopener">five-month border blockade in 2015</a>. India never acknowledged it as a blockade, and effectively pushed the narrative that it was an internal Nepal problem. But the truth eventually got out.A BJP leader for the first time has publicly acknowledged it was a “foolish thing” to do. During a visit to Kathmandu last month, senior BJP leader Subramaniyam Swami was quoted as saying the blockade had been carried out “on the advice of bureaucrats”, and that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tsu-namo-2-0-and-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Prime Minister Narendra Modi</a> was now addressing the “hurt feelings” among Nepalis.That could have been what Jaishankar was trying to do in Kathmandu, with Pashupati chandan conspicuous on his forehead all day Thursday. In meetings with Nepali leaders across the political spectrum, his message was that India wanted to re-establish a “new era of partnership” with Nepal. That is a desirable sentiment, and Nepal should respond in kind. After all, we can choose our friends, but not our neighbours.If resetting ties was the intention, however, perhaps Jaishankar was the wrong person to send to Kathmandu. Nepal’s public sphere and the press this week were replete with references to his previous visit here exactly four years ago. Nepal had just suffered a devastating earthquake, and the government was trying to fast track the new Constitution even though it did not satisfy the demands of Madhesi activists. Ensuing violence in the Tarai claimed 56 lives. <figure><img width="1800" height="1200" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a53d29c7e80680e05236fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>S Jaishankar who was in Kathmandu for the 5th Joint Commission on his way to airport for his flight back on Thursday.</figcaption></figure>We know now that Jaishankar was rather blunt in his sometimes heated meetings with Nepal’s leaders, who refused to listen to his suggestion to postpone the Constitution by two weeks. Soon after he flew back to New Delhi, border checkpoints with India were sealed. The blockade lasted till January 2016 – imports of fuel, food and essentials stopped, as did earthquake relief.Jaishankar’s return this week was for many a bitter reminder of 2015. A hashtag campaign on the Nepali Twittersphere did not exactly go viral, but got irreverent shares. Jaishankar brought a message from Prime Minister Modi to Nepal’s Prime Minister KP Oli that said he wanted India-Nepal relations to reflect the ‘closeness and affinity’ between the two peoples.The message added that leaders of the two countries trust each other, and they should build on this to complete past cooperation agreements that are languishing. They should move ahead in the spirit of mutual benefit. Oli reportedly reciprocated the sentiments and promised to work together to restore ties.What was left unsaid was New Delhi trying to get public support for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/kashmir-and-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">its actions in Kashmir</a> from the neighbourhood. In fact some Indian outlets misleadingly reported that all of India’s neighbours had done so, when they hadn’t. If they value stability in Nepal, BJP leaders in India must also refrain from trying to pressure Nepal on its secular <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-constitution-3-years-later/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Constitution</a>. We crossed that bridge, and there is no going back.Although the formal reason for this visit was a meeting of the Nepal-India Joint Commission, attention throughout the two days was elsewhere. For example, the bilateral <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/eminently-beneficial-for-india-and-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Eminent Person’s Group</a> that presented its report last year recommending reform in ties and amendments to the 1950 Rana-era, India-Nepal friendship treaty is still in limbo.It is also not in Nepal’s <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/national-interest-or-nationalism/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">national interest</a> to keep rocking the boat, and irritating New Delhi. It may be tempting at election time, and Prime Minister Oli did cash in on anti-Indian sentiment after the blockade for his landslide in the 2017 elections, but he more than anyone else, should know that this is counterproductive. Leaders in Kathmandu never really made an effort to understand India’s security sensitivities, and its need for regulating water from our rivers.Nepal’s strategy in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-now-has-to-balance-not-just-india-and-china-but-also-the-west/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">dealing with its larger neighbour</a> should be guided by pragmatism, and not petulant stubbornness. We should do our homework before negotiations and work in the spirit of give and take. On the other hand, Indian leaders must also realise that heavy-handedness has never worked. Under-handedness also does not because ultimately it will hurt India.India’s rulers may have behaved like boors in the past, but our own <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/toxic-pseudo-nationalism/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">nationalistic bravado</a> is not backed up by an ability to stand on our own feet. A state may be weak, but it must compensate for its smallness with smarts. We must fix our domestic issues ourselves, and understand Indian concerns to negotiate for the concessions we need. <h2>10 years ago this week</h2> The factional fighting in the NCP this week has seen a re-alignment. Sound familiar? Here is the Backside column by the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16210#.XV53a-MzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ass</a> from <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16236#.XV56jOMzaUk" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali Times #465</a> of 7-13 August 2009:‘JNK now thinks he’s waited long enough and is making his move against MKN and KPO. In so doing, he is either knowingly or unknowingly playing right into the hands of the Mau Mau, who can only get into govt if they manage to split the Eh-Malaise. The party is already running parallel district committees with pro and anti-JN cliques. With Upadro Yadav and Jhallu both speaking Maoist lingo, it is pretty clear what PKD meant by "strategic offensive" before he jetted off to the Woolwich Town Hall.PKD is off to Moscow, where he will meet Comrade Vladimir Ilyich in his mausoleum. But a pilgrimage to Georgia to pay respects to Uncle Joe’s birthplace was scrapped because Russia is massing troops for another putsch into Georgia. It’s a good thing PKD has gone to the Land Where Communism Collapsed. Maybe it’ll be an eye-opener.’<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16236#.XV56jOMzaUk"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a53d59c7e80680e052370jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="506" height="809"></a>

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JAISHANKAR RETURNS

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53239c7e80680e052335jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5058" height="4500"/>Earlier this month, India’s BJP government abruptly told all tourists and pilgrims to leave Kashmir, it shut off the phone system and blacked out the Internet. The entire Himalayan state is still under <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/curbs-eased-in-srinagar-people-throng-streets-to-buy-essentials/article28979258.ece">lockdown</a>.On 8 August both Houses of the Indian Parliament amended the Constitution to abolish Articles 370 and 35-A that had given Kashmir a special autonomous status. For the past 69 years since 1950, Kashmir was allowed to be governed locally, except in matters pertaining communications, security and foreign policy. At a theoretical level, this was a deal not very different from how New Delhi directs Bhutan’s foreign policy and defence.At India’s independence Kashmir was a ’princely state’ governed by a Hindu dynasty even though the state’s population was predominantly Muslim. After partition in 1947, the last King of Kashmir, Hari Singh, decided to stay with India in return for assurances from <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/tamil-nadu/nehru-never-kept-his-promise-on-kashmir/article28919026.ece?utm_source=taboola">Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru</a> (himself a Kashmiri Pandit) of a plebiscite and autonomy. By then, Kashmir had already been carved out by Pakistan which laid claim its western half, and China which took the Askai Chin region of Ladakh.Last week, Hari Singh’s descendant <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/karan-singh-backs-move-to-make-ladakh-a-ut/article28906722.ece">Karan Singh</a> gave qualified support for the BJP move to abrogate Article 370, welcoming Ladakh being turned into a union territory, while supporting statehood for Jammu and Kashmir so as to maintain communal harmony.Kashmir has been a strategic flashpoint for seven decades now, with India and Pakistan having gone to war at least thrice over the territory, while India fought briefly with China over Askai Chin in 1962. Kashmir is a volatile and emotive issue for Indians and Pakistanis, and has held the entire South Asian region hostage.India’s security clampdown and communication blackout has meant that the world is not getting the full picture of Kashmir. There is a trickle of videos showing Kashmiris out in the streets, and hospitals full of injured demonstrators. Meanwhile, in the Hindu-dominated regions of Jammu as well as the mainland Prime Minsiter Narendra Modi’s move has been welcomed as “bold” and “decisive”.Except for Pakistan and China, there has been only muted reaction internationally, with the United Nations and the United States calling for “calm and stability”. Interestingly, India's Minister for External Affairs is in Beijing as China itself tries to come to grips with its own pro-democracy protests in Hong Kong.Here in Nepal, there has been surprisingly little interest. There has been no official comment yet from the government. Prime Minister Oli was away, and his often voluble party co-chair Pushpa Kamal Dahal who goes out of his way to comment on places like <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/a-yam-between-3-boulders/">Venezuela</a> has had nothing to say about Kashmir.There are many reason why Nepalis should take Kashmir seriously. Firstly, there are many Nepalis working in Kashmir and Ladakh this time of year in the tourism industry. There are also tens of thousands of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2016/03/22/the-sharp-edge-of-history/">Nepali nationals serving in the Indian Army</a> who are eye-ball-to-eye-ball with Pakistan across the Line of control, and with the Chinese Army in Ladakh. As in previous hostilities between India and Pakistan, and between India and China, Nepalis have <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8497#.XVE0Dt4za70">shed their blood for the Indian side</a>.It is in Nepal’s interest that a future war over Kashmir should be prevented at all cost. Unfortunately, instead of de-escalating tensions New Delhi’s move on Kashmir has damaged already bad relations even further. The people of Kashmir, who have historically been ignored by both India and Pakistan, have now become like the Kurds or Palestinians – stateless and even angrier.Kashmir is now a triangular flashpoint (astride another hot spot, Afghanistan) and it involves conflicting territorial claims by three nuclear-armed nations. A future conflict there could easily escalate, and drag in the other global power, the United States.The other factor that should engage the minds of Nepal’s rulers is that a BJP government that could overturn India’s own Constitution on Kashmir for populism could attempt a reversal of Nepal’s secular constitution. BJP leaders have <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/03/23/a-u-turn/">often voiced support</a> for Nepal becoming a Hindu state again, and some have even pushed for a return of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/back-to/">Hindu monarchy</a>.Ironically, when Nepal’s monarchy was abolished in 2008 there was a centre-left coalition in India. Politicians in New Delhi and left-leaning bureaucrats then <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15246#.XVE0qN4za70">had no love lost for Nepal’s kings</a>, but tables have turned and it is the BJP that now calls the shots. Kashmir’s message should be heard loud and clear in Kathmandu.Nepal’s secular constitution is the result of a ten-year war and a decade of instability during which Nepal nearly got sucked into a multi-ethnic internal conflict. If our neighbours want a stable Nepal, they should not tamper with this reality.New Delhi’s mistake in Kashmir should also teach Kathmandu’s rulers a lesson not to retreat from the assurances of provincial autonomy inherent in our federal constitution. Guarantees of territorial integrity come not from brute force or taking away people’s rights, but from true devolution and self-governance.<h2>10 years ago this week</h2><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16211#.XVEacd4za70">An Editorial</a> in Nepali Times ten years ago (#464) of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/464" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">4-11 August 2009</a> took the government’s decisions to close an eco-tourism resort in Chitwan and delays of Melmchi as examples of the country held hostage by extortion. Nothing has changed. Excerpt:‘Trust our rulers to try to wreck what is working. In a country where there are so many other priorities (ensuring there is no famine by winter, planning now to avert next year's cholera epidemic, keeping prices down, creating jobs) you'd expect any sane government to be in permanent crisis management mode. Not here. Here, we are too busy trying to fix things that ain't broke.Chitwan and Melamchi the possibility of kickbacks sway decision-making in times of political transition. Fine, we'd be naive to assume that corruption can be eradicated. The least our MPs investigating Chitwan, Melamchi and other issues this weekend in the Parliamentary Accounts Committee can do is to minimise the harm caused by mismanagement, poor planning and corruption.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/464"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814110/636a53279c7e80680e052336jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="506" height="808"></a>

KASHMIR AND KATHMANDU

<h2>Tibet’s Muslims settled in Nepal in waves, but they all have one thing in common: Ramadan</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6d79c7e80680e0314aajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Ahmed Dulla with his 20 month old daughter Meherin, enjoying his iftar meal after fasting all day. Pic: Bikram Rai</figcaption></figure>Mention Tibet, and the first thing that comes to mind is the Dalai Lama and Buddhism. However, Muslims have been as much a part of the fabric of Tibetan culture as their Buddhist counterparts.It is hard to distinguish <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Tibetan-muslims-celebrate-ramadan,1505" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Muslim Tibetans</a> from their Buddhist compatriots since they share the same language, food, clothing, culture and heritage. Tibetan Muslims have also contributed to the preservation of Tibetan culture wherever in the world they have settled. It is only their faith that sets them apart.Historically, Muslim traders from Kashmir and Ladakh settled in Tibet in the 17th century, during the time of the fifth Dalai Lama. They were granted permission to build mosques and have burial ground along with other privileges such as being able to buy land and continue their trade. They started marrying Tibetan Buddhist women, who later converted to Islam. As the community expanded, it later included Tibetans of Nepali origin.Lhasa still has four mosques, the first of which Bada Masjid was built in 1716 with a smaller one built in the 1920s. The remaining two mosques are in Gyangda Linka, where the burial ground is located. There are two more mosques in Xigatse and Changdu.Tibetan Muslims in Lhasa were always allowed to freely practice their religion. But after the Chinese annexation in 1950, most Muslims migrated to Nepal and lndia with the Dalai Lama and other Tibetans.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6da9c7e80680e0314abjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Business was always good in Tibet, and it was booming even during the Cultural Revolution. The political tension did not hamper our trade, but we moved out of Tibet because of concern for our religion,” recalls Abdul Rehman (pictured above), 68, who was born in Lhasa but moved to India in the 1960’s. After university, he moved to Kathmandu 28 years ago to start his own jewellery business in Thamel.Returning from the afternoon prayers at Jame Masjid, as he settled down in his antique jewellery boutique, Rehman echoed the feeling of most Tibetan Muslims in Nepal: "In all these years, I have never ever been made to feel like an outsider here in Nepal. The tourist business is good, and the people too are very friendly."There are about 120 Tibetan Muslim families in Kathmandu, of which some like Rehman are of Kashmiri ancestry who moved to Kathmandu for trade and business. Tibet, Nepal and India have always shared a special connection because of interlinked trade which translated into new communities such as Tibetan Muslims who trace their ancestry mainly to Kashmir and Ladakh.Tibetan Muslims in Nepal are further categorised as 'Khache' (from Kashmir and hold Indian passports) and 'Khazar' (who have Nepali ancestry and nationality). The only difference between the two is that the Khache regard the Dalai Lama as the Tibetan leader and mark his birthday. Most of them have now intermarried, blurring the distinction between the two.<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Dulla%20,345" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ahmed Dulla</a>, 30, born in Nepal, belongs to the ninth generation of Tibetan Muslims. His family moved from Lhasa to Kathmandu in the 1970's, because their ancestors were from Nepal. Dulla studied in India and returned eight years ago to start a shoe business. His wife Bushra Yusuf is a Tibetan Muslim of Kashmiri ancestry.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6dd9c7e80680e0314acjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>"We Tibetan Muslims have relatives all over. We still have family in Lhasa, Ladakh, Kashmir, and in Kalimpong and Darjeeling. It is only geographically that we are apart, otherwise we are all the same, culturally and religiously," Dulla tells us.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6e09c7e80680e0314adjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Dulla's uncle Karimullah, 55, was born in Lhasa and moved to Kathmandu in 1969. His grandfather was a Nepali Hindu who worked at the Nepal Consulate in Lhasa, and grandmother was a Nepali Buddhist. They both converted to Islam while in Tibet and mingled with the Tibetan Muslim community.Despite being a small group, Kathmandu’s Tibetan Muslims are a strong, tightly-knit community who this month are observing Ramadan like Mulsims all over the world, not eating all day and breaking their fasts after sundown with a feast."The purpose of Ramadan is to purify your thoughts and have control over yourself. It helps bring self awareness within us," says Dulla as he breaks his fast with customary dates, followed by a great variety of kebabs, curries and desserts like sewai and kheer.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19550#.Wwb7_TSFN0w" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ramzan Kareem</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2047#.Wwb7lDSFN0w" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepali Muslims</a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/assimilating-generations-of-Newari-muslims,2937" target="_blank" rel="noopener">How to braid two cultures together</a>

There are Muslims in Tibet, too

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

Bhutan political prisoner dies in detention

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

The sins of our mothers

Samrat Upadhyay’s newest novel <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/10/books/review/darkmotherland-samrat-upadhyay.html" target="_blank">Darkmotherland</a> imagines a Kathmandu in political turmoil after a large earthquake. In the aftermath, Home Minister Giridharilal Bhagirath Kumar stages a ‘koo’, and has convinced people that he is the answer to the crisis.&nbsp; He is now known as ‘PM Papa’, and picks up classic dictatorial ways — propaganda, statue-making, history-revising, and a gang of Shiva-worshipping ‘Fundys’.&nbsp; We are introduced to two complicated protagonists. The first is Kranti, a fetching young woman and ‘Madam Mao’, her Communist professor mother. The chef father loved classic rock and died by gas cylinder suicide. Kranti hates her mother, and the Communist group which congregates at her home to plot against PM Papa, although they seem to take forever to get anything done.&nbsp; Kranti has a complicated relationship with the handsome Bhaskar, the middle son of the Ghimirey family oligarchy that is aligned with the dictator. She loves him, but as Bhaskar gets more and more involved with her mother and the Communist group, finds herself heading out to the ‘Bhurey’ (Bhu-kampa Rey-fugee) tents, to spend time with poet Kabiraj.&nbsp; Kranti is also given to delusions, paranoia, and psychosis, convinced that Bhaskar’s family is spying on her, and that one in the Communist group has supernatural powers of suggestion that led to her father’s suicide. Despite mental issues, she marries Bhaskar and into the Ghimirey clan, and the complex nexus between business and politics.&nbsp; The second is Rozy, initially the genderqueer lover of PM Papa who he discovered in the streets, and is described as a ‘gorgeous homosexual’. She turns heads due to her sexuality and beauty, and gets more and more politically powerful as the story moves along.&nbsp; Upadhyay tells us Nepali writers writing in English often feel a pressure to create an “all-embracing world” (interview), but that is what he seems to be getting at with the monumental plot of his novel. Unlike the realism in his previous novels, this one drifts off into magical realism. His narrative blends the ever-present risk of a big earthquake and the actuality of political tremors. The speed of political upheaval seems a little unrealistic for anyone who lived through the 2015 earthquake, although the GenZ protests showed just how quickly a regime can be reduced to a heap of rubble. The age-old question: oppression can be overcome, but what comes after? The PM Papa character is a Gyanendra-Oli-Deuba-Prachanda-Modi-Trump-Papa Doc composite who is good friends with the not even thinly veiled President Corn Hair.&nbsp; Through the character of Kranti, Upadhyay conveys the dynamic between a parent and a child who is now a full adult, on relationships in Kathmandu as marriage looms, on pervasive corruption which one might denounce but have to take advantage of to get things done.&nbsp; Through Rozy, Upadhyay brings attention to the non-binary identity, one that has existed forever in Nepal, and although is discussed a lot in the West lately but not so much here. Upadhyay explores the origins, the present, and the various advantages and disadvantages of the queer.&nbsp; Storytelling in the early parts of the book oscillates between the real and absurd fantasy amidst the physical and political backdrop that does not have to be Nepal -- it could be Modi's India or Trump's America.&nbsp; The reader sees the world through Kranti’s psychosis, or PM Papa’s displays of power, such as when a ‘Sweej’ wrestler is beaten to death with a mace in a wrestling spectacle.&nbsp; These elements <a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/authors/profiles/article/96329-samrat-upadhyay-wants-you-to-expect-the-unexpected.html" target="_blank">coagulate in the novel</a>, and Upadhyay has all the pages at his disposal to prod and push them against one another to see what happens. The novel is still at its best and most engaging when describing vulnerable scenes, of Kranti and her mister, or of Rozy’s messed-up childhood.&nbsp; Any Nepali reading his weighty novel can recognise the allusions and nudges such as the Tourist Area: Thamel, Open Stage: Khula Manch, Tri-Moon: Tri-Chandra etc. But anyone not from these parts may have a tough time keeping track. Keeping a notebook handy may be useful.&nbsp; Ultimately, the novel does work, it provokes and entertains. For best results, serialise the reading over 30 days, not 3 like this reviewer.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025122005124_88d92d9a2c5718436354d9c1ce6a2576931ef3242a37f6b90d84da15fe96dd8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Darkmotherland NT"> </figure>  <h2>More things change, more they remain the same</h2> First US-published Nepali Samrat Upadhyay is the award-winning author of novels and short story collections like Arresting God in Kathmandu, The City Son, Mad Country, and Buddha’s Orphans. Upadhyay is also the Martha C. Kraft Professor of Humanities at Indiana University, where he teaches Creative Writing.&nbsp; Recently in Kathmandu, he talked to the Nepali Times over coffee in Boudha about his writing, his teaching, and his newest novel, DARKMOTHERLAND.&nbsp; Nepali Times: Darkmotherland is 732 pages long. What was it like writing a much longer book? Samrat Upadhyay: Torturous Ha ha ha. Around 2014 I started a story. I knew it was going to be a novel. It was about this woman who is accused of being a Mangalik. Then the big earthquake happened in 2015. I was in the US but my parents were still here, they were living in tents. Then I started thinking, what would happen if a dictator came to power. That’s how PM Papa was born. I think mostly because of his character the novel exploded. I had never written a character like him before. I don’t do any plot outlines when I write. Let’s see where it goes. I like the process of writing to lead to discoveries. If I knew everything then I’d get bored. Not knowing where the storyline might go is very exciting. All these different threads started coming in, the character of Kranti started taking on a big role. Her mother, a Communist-leaning professor, started taking shape. Kranti also had a love-interest from an oligarchical family. The novel just took off and I just continued writing. A novel is as long as it needs to be. The initial draft was 1,700 pages. I was writing pretty fast. I don’t pause to see if the sentences are pretty. I whittled it down, and by the time I sent it to my agent it was 1,100 pages. He was able to sell it to Soho Press. I worked with an editor who suggested some further cuts and expansions. The editing part was even harder than the initial writing, because by that time I was tired of looking at the novel. There was a bit of a delay because of Covid, then we got back on track. What’s your daily process of getting the words on paper? I am a morning writer. I get up in the morning and start writing. You can have all kinds of theories but there is this saying, Shut Up and Write. The writing is where the meat is. You encounter difficulties in writing that you may not encounter when thinking about it. I see this in my students. I knew this was a big project so I knew that if I wanted to get it out I would need to write a lot per day. I got a couple fellowships in the university that gave me a few semesters off teaching. I would write for about 4 or 5 hours. Sometimes I would give myself a 1,000 word deadline, but I’m flexible with it if I don’t get there. You have to be kind and patient. What is your inspiration behind the gender-queer character, Rozy? I’ve always been a strong supporter of LGBT. I would say that at this point half of my students are non-binary or on the gender spectrum. Some of them are going through transitions. In some ways Nepal has become more accepting, but in other ways not. I did a workshop with Blue Diamond Society, and heard pretty harrowing stories. I didn’t intend to create a gender-queer character, but it seemed like the novel was demanding that. Especially in terms of the tyrannical stronghold that PM Papa has over the entire country, it made sense that there would be a counterpart, I wanted to put these things in motion and see how they interact. As I was writing Rozy, her character became very formidable. How much do you draw from Nepali politics? Do you form characters off people you know? Not in a very concrete sense, but I’m always drawing from them. I grew up in the Panchayat System, and lived in Lainchaur. The palace was there. The monarchy was such an institution. But then I was in the US, so I wasn’t here when the pro-democracy movement happened. In some ways it felt like things had changed, but were the same in other ways. I feel the same way now. I do draw upon people. I think my father makes an appearance in my work in various forms, I disguise him, of course. You’ve taught creative writing for a while now, how is literature changing?&nbsp; My students are also writing non-binary characters, because they want to be reflected in the stories. This is something new that we didn’t have. White authors, characters were the default. People of Color on the margins. African American and then Hispanic, South Asian authors were always pushing back on this status quo. When I was growing up in the classroom we were reading a lot of white male authors, but in my own life I was reading Salman Rushdie, African, South African friends and writers. My students have a lot more interest in fantasy, many are writing dystopian. One student is writing a novel where the characters start playing a game, and then they enter the game, and an entire new world opens up. On the one hand there are complaints that students aren’t reading enough, which is true, but my students are producing smarter work. Writing that is a lot more insightful. The calibre of discussion in my graduate-level novel writing classes is mind-boggling to me, and makes me want to keep on teaching. Do Nepali writers who write in English feel a certain pressure, from the market or self-imposed, to make their stories more Nepali? My experience for a long time was that there was a pressure, I felt it true in my case, I was supposed to be the representative of every Nepali. But Nepali writers writing in Nepali are not asked, how are you representing Nepal. At that time there was a lot of pressure to write a novel that is all-embracing, that is supposed to speak on all aspects of the country. Politics felt like an integral part of it, that these novels had to make big political statements. I always felt like this was wrong. I mean, people have to write what they want to write. &nbsp;You write what you want to write, and if it resonates with readers, that’s great. If it doesn’t, that’s fine too. Art isn’t going to speak to everyone. We do a competition every couple of years called Writing Nepal. We make a call for stories, and we decide the best ones. I find it refreshing now that the writing isn’t all about Nepal. The best stories are quite varied. What are Nepalis writing about?&nbsp; Several of the stories are about the role of women in our society, done with a lot of nuance, about the sort of multitasking they have to do. Some of it was deeply historical, some dystopian, the coming of AI. Some of them have an old-timey type of feel, and some of them are very modern, contemporary. The general level of art in movies, TV shows, and novels seems to have regressed compared to say the 90s.&nbsp; I don’t think that’s entirely true. Publishing has been harder, for sure, but there are a lot of novels being published every year. My writing workshop had always been a good vehicle for short stories, but a lot of my students now—even undergraduates—are working on novels. I haven’t formulated my thoughts on AI, it is so new and has hit us so hard. Many of my students are using AI, especially when writing response papers to works of literature or peers, which I find appalling. That’s going to be a struggle. I tell my students, who are you fooling? If you feel that you want to be an artist, or a writer, then what’s the point of using AI? AI-generated stories are also just not that good. They’re almost too perfect, too well put-together, making moves that are easy to detect. There is something about human-written stories that are messy and exciting. But there are also plenty of students who want to do original work and don’t want anything to do with AI.

A dystopian motherland

From its headwaters near Mansarovar on the Tibetan Plateau to its confluence with the Ganga in India, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/faith-to-reality">the Karnali</a> remains one of the last great free-flowing rivers in the Himalaya. At a time when most major Asian rivers have been dammed by concrete, the Karnali still surges, migrates, floods and recedes according to its own natural rhythms. This sustains an entire living system -- wildlife, communities and cultures — that cannot be replicated once a river is turned into a staircase of reservoirs. The Karnali is a natural artery for western Nepal. It nourishes fertile floodplains, recharges aquifers, supports fisheries and connects remote communities.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251221101240_213faa0e9da42af63e6c4f8a41e23a96efbd9f29a1d148227d65d2f16bb64b53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251221101240_213faa0e9da42af63e6c4f8a41e23a96efbd9f29a1d148227d65d2f16bb64b53" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Confluence of the Humla and Mugu Karnali.</figcaption> </figure>  Bardia National Park and its rich biodiversity, including the tiger and fresh water dolphins, depend on the river and its seasonal interaction with the floodplain and wetlands. Riverine birds, crocodilians, endemic fish, all depend on the river. Millions of people in Nepal and India rely on the Karnali (called Ghaghara in India) for household use, irrigation and livelihoods. This living river now faces <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dams-and-dreams-a-journey-down-the-karnali">a cascade of proposed hydropower projects</a>. So far, the Upper Karnali &nbsp;(900MW) and the massive Karnali-Chisapani (10,800MW) have been purposed. Both have been mired in controversy and have been delayed. Construction of smaller projects like the Bheri-Babai Diversion are already underway.&nbsp; The Upper Karnali is a Rs146 billion project first purposed in 2006. It started construction earlier this year with the Indian conglomerate GMR leading the task. Even so it faces a setback as Bangladesh cancelled the power purchase deal of 500MW.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109124_80c381c4299dd7e18dbbcacb26e567edc5cfffba76d428e3b325dd194eae8a47.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025122109124_80c381c4299dd7e18dbbcacb26e567edc5cfffba76d428e3b325dd194eae8a47" data-rendition-name="original" width="4284" height="5712" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Free-flowing Upper Karnali.</figcaption> </figure>  The project is located on the stupendous Karnali Bend where the water can be pushed through a 2.5km tunnel over a drop of 130m, creating a huge generation capacity. But Nepal’s move towards big dams comes at a time when scientists warn of more extreme weather events like floods and landslides in the already fragile Himalayan landscape. Nepal now needs investment in storage projects as most hydropower plants are of the run-of-river type, which means power generation drops in the dry season. But a piecemeal dam-by-dam approach risks destroying a unique resource for benefits that could be achieved elsewhere with far less ecological cost. Once a free-flowing river is fragmented, its sediment delivery is choked, fish migrations are cut off, floodplains dry out and local cultures that revolve around seasonal flows begin to unravel. These changes are effectively permanent.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109120_4f59b09b6e03889457b9b98d72d6b604d3519895f8825b4b03f486d67ea299af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025122109120_4f59b09b6e03889457b9b98d72d6b604d3519895f8825b4b03f486d67ea299af" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Local children play indigenous musical instrument.</figcaption> </figure>  “The Karnali is the last and most pristine Himalayan River left, most others are already exploited. It should be protected as a wild, scenic, free flowing river as a gift to future generations,” says activist Megh Ale, who wants the river to be developed as an eco-tourism corridor on the pilgrim trail to Mt Kailash and Mansarovar.&nbsp; “We have many big tributaries to the Karnali,” Ale adds. “We can keep the main stream of the river as free flowing, and develop hydro projects on the tributaries. More than 6,000MW can be produced without touching the main river stem.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109128_223faf7f50c43f3bf008a7745b90131fa91975689109533b71ed7d9dcdb8c53e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025122109128_223faf7f50c43f3bf008a7745b90131fa91975689109533b71ed7d9dcdb8c53e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1875" height="2500" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Rafters say Karnali is one of the best places for white water rafting in the world.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal has abundant alternatives to hydropower: solar energy has been hardly tapped, and integrating them with pump storage systems are cheap, quick to build and are low impact. Smarter siting and design, modern transmission links and regional power trading can deliver reliable energy without sacrificing the country’s last pristine river. Preserving the Karnali would also pay dividends in climate resilience: free-flowing rivers buffer <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-denial-in-the-himalaya">extreme floods and droughts</a>, carry sediment that builds deltas and replenishes nutrients on farmland, and provide insurance against glacial and monsoon variability.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109124_a5726642ee785b624ee3e6d81a051091c91a8d388dba8c33f4a03bab1fddc97f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025122109124_a5726642ee785b624ee3e6d81a051091c91a8d388dba8c33f4a03bab1fddc97f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Tharu women repair a channel fed by the Karnali, which is a life line for their farms.</figcaption> </figure>  The Karnali is also a cultural and economic asset in its own right. As a rare, undammed Himalayan river, it underpins nature-based tourism, scientific research, and a way of life for Indigenous and local communities. Kalashtham Tharu, 32, is an elephant mahout in Bardia, and says the Karnali is an important source of water for animals and farming. Diversion for irrigation near Chisapani has meant that a channel going into Bardia National Park has gone dry, affecting biodiversity and nearby farms. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109120_6d3a45a440263e859d64c427a8543c6ede5a447a411797d25a6a41d713d33e91.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025122109120_6d3a45a440263e859d64c427a8543c6ede5a447a411797d25a6a41d713d33e91" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="2000" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Panning for gold on the banks of the Karnali. She makes Rs200,000 per year. </figcaption> </figure>  Similarly, the Sonahar community in Bardia relies on the river to pan for gold, their sole source of income. Anita, 40, says there is much less water in the Karnali this year. On an average, she makes Rs200,000 from middlemen for the gold she pans during non-monsoon months. &nbsp; WILD RIVERS Around the world, countries are beginning to recognise the value of keeping a few great rivers wild. Protecting the Karnali would place Nepal at the forefront of that movement and strengthen efforts to seek international recognition for the river’s outstanding natural heritage. Any decision should be grounded in a transparent, basin-wide assessment that weighs the full social, ecological and economic costs—not just the megawatts on a project spreadsheet. That means evaluating alternatives, safeguarding critical habitats and migration routes, and recognising the rights and knowledge of the people who live along the river. It also means asking a simple question: If Nepal can meet its energy goals without damming the Karnali’s main stem, why wouldn’t it?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109128_3e357c863de55b397f09cfd666c762de297a8b07ac024a41a8bb5b9e8d3a76cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025122109128_3e357c863de55b397f09cfd666c762de297a8b07ac024a41a8bb5b9e8d3a76cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>River mining the Karnali in Kalaili district causing uneven landscape with the river flowing away from Bardia National park.</figcaption> </figure>  Advocates have petitioned Nepal’s Supreme Court to protect the Karnali, with a hearing scheduled in Kathmandu on 22 December. International lenders and investors should take note: Financing high-impact dams on the Karnali would run counter to emerging global standards on biodiversity, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/dancing-with-the-river">climate resilience</a> and free-flowing river protection. Funding clean energy in Nepal should not require sacrificing the country’s most pristine river. For three decades, I have documented the Karnali from its source in Tibet to its entry into India, capturing the river’s seasons and the lives it sustains. The images I have captured and the voices of people who depend on the river, tell a simple truth: a free-flowing Karnali is irreplaceable. Once the concrete is poured, there is no going back.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025122109128_760ae5218d5f7e961c198da0a6c8696247e34281752a2857de935f9e8aec2c5c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2025122109128_760ae5218d5f7e961c198da0a6c8696247e34281752a2857de935f9e8aec2c5c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1504" height="1502" loading="lazy" alt="Karnali"> <figcaption>Inner sanctum of Mt Kailas in the vicinity of Manasarovar and Rakshas lakes in Tibet.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal has many options for generating power. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-karnali-portrait?%2F">It has only one Karnali</a>. Keeping this river wild would be a gift to the living Earth and to future generations — a legacy measured not in megawatts, but in life. Says Megh Ale: “We are very rich in natural resources but manage them very poorly. We want instant solutions but do not have a long-term vision. We are not against development but there needs to be a good balance with nature.” &nbsp;

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