<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d06359c7e80680e0a5f4ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"/><figcaption>The Kosi Barrage on the Indian border where the river funnels out into the inland delta in Bihar.</figcaption></figure><ul><li>Three decades after it was first proposed, a 26.5km tunnel starts supplying water from Melamchi to Kathmandu.</li> <li>A <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEISH8LehEm5nAihrdyEOSDxSXsUg">deadly flood</a> on the Melamchi-Indrawati in Sindhupalchok on 16 June kills at least 27 people, and destroys infrastructure.</li> <li>The much-delayed 465MW Upper Tama Kosi hydropower plant starts feeding electricity to the national grid.</li> <li>SJVN says it has completed half the work on the 900MW Arun III project and the Investment Board awarded it another contract to develop the 679MW Lower Arun as well.</li> <li>Work has begun on the Sunkosi-Marin Diversion, to channel water to the Bagmati Basin and irrigate much of Province 2.</li></ul>All five events have one thing in common: they are all on the trans-boundary Kosi Basin that drains 75,000 sq km of territory in China, Nepal and India.Last week, I was standing on the Pati Bhanjyang ridgeline at the northeastern rim of Kathmandu Valley. Pour a glass of water on one side, and it flows westwards into the Gandaki River Basin. On the other side the streams drain into the Melamchi, which meets the Indrawati, then the Bhote Kosi to become the Sun Kosi that flows 200km eastward until it merges with the Arun and Tamor to form the Sapta Kosi.At that point, the river makes a tight turn south to tumble into the Kosi megafan in the Tarai and Bihar to finally to join the Ganga at Kursela. The Kosi, in fact, is the largest tributary of the Ganges, bigger than the Gandaki, Karnali, Jamuna, and even bigger than the Ganga itself as it debouches into the plains at Haridwar.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d06389c7e80680e0a5f4fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Kosi’s origin in Nepal is near Kathmandu. But it largest tributary, the Arun, originates in Tibet where it is called the Phung Chu, makes a mighty arc in Tibet and cuts through the Himalaya between Mt Makalu and Mt Kangchenjunga to meet its siblings Sun Kosi and Tamor at Tribeni.Geologists say rivers like the Arun that slice through the Himalaya are older than the mountains, and cut their way through as the terrain rose over millions of years with the collision of the India and Eurasian tectonic plates.The Kosi watershed therefore drains an enormous vertical landscape stretching from Mt Xixapangma which lies just 80km on the other side of the Himalaya in China, both sides of Mt Gauri Shankar (Chomo Tseringma), Mt Everest and Mt Makalu, as well as the western slopes of Kangchenjunga. Six of the world’s 13 peaks above 8,000m are therefore a part of the Kosi catchment.These mountains block the monsoons, and in eastern Nepal their southern slopes get more than 3,000mm of rain a year, weathering them down relentlessly, making the sedimentation load of the Kosi the heaviest for any river in the world.The topography of this mighty river has shaped Nepal’s history and culture, and can determine the country’s future prosperity as well. But only if we respect its geology, hydrology and the climate of its basin.Watershed expert Madhukar Upadhyay says, “We have not even begun to understand the hydrological and geological specificities of our mountains and rivers and yet are rushing headlong into ever-larger infrastructure development. Nepalis will still be here 500 years from now, what kind of country and landscape are we leaving behind for them?”Last month, landslides blocked the Melamchi-Indrawati, unleashing a deadly debris flow that destroyed infrastructure, homes and livelihoods. It imperilled <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/light-at-the-end-of-the-melamchi-tunnel/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/light-at-the-end-of-the-melamchi-tunnel/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEaXQ5HnjB92xgkbHBEnnbl5xiwow">the Melamchi project</a>, and its tunnel supplying water to Kathmandu was saved only because the gates were closed for maintenance just hours before the onrush.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d063c9c7e80680e0a5f50jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This week, the Upper Tama Kosi project started generating electricity, that will provide one-third of Nepal’s total power demand. But there was a scare just days before the inauguration: China informed Nepal that a massive landslide had blocked the river upstream, threatening the Rs55 billion project. Fortunately, the river found its way around the blockage. The near escapes of the Melamchi and Upper Tama Kosi sites make us take Upadhyay’s warnings seriously.Other <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/monsoon-hits-nepal-with-a-bang/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/monsoon-hits-nepal-with-a-bang/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHkbbDluGypXbbgC1BQxVAVndFTvA">flash floods this year </a>in Manang, Kaski and Lamjung also showed that while our rivers hold great promise, we ignore the risk to settlements and major infrastructure along their banks. Our engineering methods have been inherited from the West, and do not account for cloudbursts and extreme Himalayan weather events. All these risks have been exacerbated by climate change.In Melamchi, the power of the flood last month is evident in the steel hulk of the Indrawati Bridge that lies crumpled in the muddy river 100m downstream amidst room-sized boulders. The new sand bank is 25m thick, indicating the flood’s maximum height.It is not clear what happened, for a bishyari or two (bursting of a landslide-damming of the river) would not be enough to generate such a massive debris flow. Some speculate there may have been centuries-old glacial deposits which suddenly got released through a combination of earthquake weakening and heavy rain.We also saw that <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-the-deluge-in-nepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/after-the-deluge-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFAaYeK5lUf9eY4-j8mOHnFIUOT5A">Melamchi Bazar </a>had expanded into the river’s flood plain, with buildings in place of rice paddies, which added to the loss of life and property. Less than a month after the disaster excavators and tipper trucks are already on the Indrawati river bed, scooping up sand and boulders to feed Kathmandu Valley’s voracious appetite for construction material.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d06409c7e80680e0a5f51jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It is the Kosi’s Melamchi tributary that augments Kathmandu’s water supply, while the sand and boulders from the Indrawati, Sun Kosi, Bhote Kosi and Rosi fulfil the Valley’s demand for sand and aggregates.While earthquakes, floods and landslides are seen as ‘natural disasters’, and indeed they are to some extent, they become ‘man-made’ calamities with unregulated sand-mining of rivers, quarrying on steep slopes, and haphazard road-building.The highway along the Indrawati is crowded with sand-laden tipper trucks bound for Kathmandu. Downstream towards the Kosi Barrage along the BP Highway, the road follows the river past the site where a part of the Sun Kosi is to be channeled through a 13km tunnel to irrigate farmlands in the Tarai of Province 2. A similar inter-basin diversion scheme on the Kali Gandaki is now pitting Gandaki vs Lumbini Province, and the central government.We finally get to the new bridge across the Sapta Kosi at Chhatara, connecting Udayapur and Sunsari districts. This is exactly the point where, after its epic journey from the Tibetan Plateau and between the highest mountains in the world, this great river fans out into the plains.https://youtu.be/34lmOgPv-zkNorth of the bridge is the site of the proposed mammoth <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2413#.YOQRoi8RoWo" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D2413%23.YOQRoi8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNF86VG9E0i8u5OqfG5NvKJKILpBEA">Kosi High Dam</a>. The 300m high dam will create a reservoir submerging huge tracts of the Sun Kosi, Arun and Tamor Valleys in a kind of ‘trishul’. India needs the dam for flood control, and to facilitate inland navigation by storing monsoon water and discharging it in the dry season. But there are many questions regarding the proposed mega project.To begin with, the high silt load means that a future Kosi Reservoir would soon fill up with sediment. There are alternatives to dams: people in the Kosi plains have learnt to live with annual floods which deposit valuable soil nutrients, and diverting water through earlier river channels would ease flood impact.The village of Hanuman Nagar had to be relocated because of the barrage, and 60 years later some of its families and those further upstream have still not got compensated. The barrage also destroyed an important wetland, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-great-trans-himalayan-bird-migration/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-great-trans-himalayan-bird-migration/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFOCjdWAUhLv8LM1mLEnBNbFZeVHQ">migratory birds </a>now alight in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15974#.YOQSqy8RoWo" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D15974%23.YOQSqy8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH9ndET9JXr1SU0_SRmfnAXaLeZ5A">Kosi Tappu Wildlife Reserve</a> instead.Extending the reserve further north and south could increase the habitat of endangered arna, wild elephants and freshwater dolphins, encourage ecotourism, and provide income to villagers whose grandparents had to move.The 60-year-old embankments that jacket the Kosi upstream and downstream from the Barrage have created the potential for a massive future disaster, an inland tsunami. Because of the river’s heavy silt content, the Kosi now flows on a deck 3-4m above the surrounding land. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15163#.YOQR6y8RoWo" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D15163%23.YOQR6y8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNELQRpfAALk_H4uMYlUohTJDiWrQg">In 2008, the Kosi breached the eastern embankment </a>at Kusaha, causing <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15193#.YOQTGy8RoWo" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D15193%23.YOQTGy8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGQbFvez-8I6Bv7_rYVwfQpczaNAg">destruction </a>downstream in Sunsari and Bihar. And that was when the river was not even in spate.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111015118/636d06439c7e80680e0a5f52jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1920" height="1080"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>With extreme weather caused by climate change, or a confluence of cloud-bursts in the mountain catchment, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3526#.YOQSOy8RoWo" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D3526%23.YOQSOy8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1625725666191000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEvH8AZlBKUPb68a4OulBhpsm0Q2w">a record-breaking flood in future</a> could cause an engorged Kosi to bypass the barrage altogether and unleash a catastrophic flood downstream.The Kosi Barrage was meant to be a temporary solution, and the Kosi High Dam was always in the minds of the Indian authorities. There is a need for transparent and independent study by water experts, social scientists and technocrats to study the pros and cons of the Kosi High Dam.Siltation, seismicity, adaptation and mitigation, all need to be factored in with projected future climate impact. Meanwhile, across the world, ecologists are warning that the price to pay for large dams is too great because of the destruction of river ecosystems.A massive rockfill dam on a seismically active zone, the geopolitical implications as well as the social and environmental costs may outweigh the planned benefits. To make up for the mistake of the Kosi Barrage, we may be making an even greater blunder with the Kosi High Dam.

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The Kosi’s sorrow, and scope

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

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

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

The Himalaya is not fragile

The Kangchenjunga Trek in far-eastern Nepal is a remote and less-crowded adventure that offers raw wilderness, diverse cultures, and breathtaking terrain below the world’s third highest mountain. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) grabbed the world’s attention before Mt Everest ever did because its imposing rampart dominated the northern horizon from Darjeeling, the summer refuge for the British in India. The Kangchenjunga massif is more a mountain range rather than a peak, its high ridge stretching 25km from Nepal to Sikkim.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c" data-rendition-name="original" width="938" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga trail map"></figure>  Sikkim considers the mountain sacred, and has banned mountaineering expeditions. But the various prominences of Kangchenjunga are increasingly popular for climbers via the north face in Nepal. For non-mountaineers, even the Kangchenjunga trek can be arduous, especially in winter. It is one of the last pure wilderness areas in Nepal, traversing sparsely populated valleys that are rich in biodiversity because of the high annual rainfall. Even when Nepal was a forbidden land, among the first foreign visitors was British botanist J D Hooker who explored the Nepal side of Kangchenjunga in 1850 to collect plant samples. The peak was first climbed in 1955, two years after the first ascent of Mt Everest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The establishment of Kangchenjunga Conservation Area in September 2006 was accompanied by tragedy when 24 people, including Nepal’s nature preservation pioneers were killed in a helicopter crash. The Conservation Area is now the only one managed completely by the local indigenous people. It has 70 varieties of orchids, 30 rhododendron types, and 15 out of 28 endemic plants of Nepal. Kangchenjunga still gets very few of the 200,000 foreign trekkers who visit Nepal every year, but improved road access in recent years is making it more popular. Trekkers have a choice of exploring the North Base Camp (Pangpema) or the South Base Camp (Yalung Glacier), or combine both for the full Kangchenjunga Circuit (map). This trek is considered strenuous, with long walking days, high altitude, and tea house accommodation that is much more basic than the Everest or Annapurna regions. Trekkers have to be fit and with prior hiking experience. Most teams take tents and camp, and carry most of their food.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  FULL CIRCUIT Because the region is restricted, trekkers must obtain a permit and be accompanied by a licensed guide. A full circuit can take three weeks, while doing only the North or South Base Camps will take two weeks, including flying from Kathmandu to Bhadrapur and jeep to Taplejung or a rough trail to Hellok. The lower forested stretches are teeming with wildlife, and this is red panda and snow leopard country. The streams and ponds have amphibians and reptiles, some of which have not yet even been classified. The route also passes the homelands of the Limbu, Rai and Tibetan communities with the local culture and architecture more intact than in most other mountain areas of Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The best seasons to trek are spring (March–May) and autumn (September–November). There are fewer trekkers and climbers in winter, and many of the birds and wildlife have migrated down to warmer climes. Despite its beauty, trekkers should be prepared for challenges like long distances between villages, unpredictable weather, and limited emergency rescue options due to the remoteness of the area — all even more challenging in winter. Norbu Lama is an international hiking guide with www.dolpocaravantreks.com and just returned after leading a trek to Kangchenjunga Base Camps.

Kangchenjunga in winter

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

kosi-high-dam

The Kosi’s sorrow, and scope

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

The Himalaya is not fragile

Kangchenjunga in winter

The war between people