Since the release of Nepal’s 2021 census data on ethnicities, languages, and religions earlier this month, Hindu nationalists, royalists and anti-secularists have been raising a fuss because the number of people who say Nepali is their mother tongue and are Hindus has marginally declined from past censuses. Clearly, it does not seem to matter that Nepali is still the most spoken language in the country and Hindus continue to make up by far the majority of the population of Nepal. The 2021 census put the number of mother tongues spoken in Nepal at 124, just one more than 123 in 2011. Twelve foreign languages previously included in the 2011 census were grouped in the ‘Others’ category this time, and 13 new languages were added: Bhote, Lowa, Nubri, Baragunwa, Nar-Phu, Ranatharu, Karmarong, Mugali, Tichhurong Poike, Sadri, Done, Mudiyari and Kewarat.&nbsp; Nepal first listed languages in its census in 1952, when only 44 mother tongues were documented. The number of languages declined dramatically over the next three censuses, and started to increase again from 1991 onwards after the Panchayat era. &nbsp; The drop in languages from 1961 to 1991 is attributed to the ‘one language, one nation’ assimilation policy of the Panchayat regime as well as a lack of ethno-linguistic awareness during those times.&nbsp; However, Nepali has remained the lingua franca and the most common language spoken throughout this period.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/census-or-consensus">Census or consensus?</a>, Editorial  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230630050644_e2c4a6fded005c5e477e51496c28f13cf7de0fb444a09f2296fcc573740614f3.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230630050644_e2c4a6fded005c5e477e51496c28f13cf7de0fb444a09f2296fcc573740614f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="758" height="660" loading="lazy" alt="Languages"> </figure>  All unknown languages and vernaculars had been lumped together as ‘Nepali’ during previous censuses, but in 2011 several dialects of Nepali like Doteli, Baitadeli, Achhami, Bajhangi, Dailekhi, Darchuleli, Jumli, Dadeldhuri and Gadhwali were classified as independent languages. This meant the total number of languages jumped from 92 in the 2001 count to 123 ten years later. &nbsp; Linguistics expert Yogendra P Yadava, &nbsp;former head of Tribhuvan University's Central Department of Linguistics who authored census reports including the language chapter of the 2014 Population Monograph of Nepal, says that the record of the languages was more accurate in this census because enumerators were able to reach almost every village. In previous counts, lack of roads or war meant that enumerators just gathered data from the District Administration Offices without going door to door. “It would not have been possible to record a language like Nar-Phu, which is known by very few outside of the community, if enumerators had not reached every household,” explains Yadava. However, the number of Nepali speakers has gone up slightly once again for the first time in three decades. While 44.64% of Nepal’s population spoke Nepali as their primary language in 2011, 44.86% recorded Nepali as their mother tongue in 2021. Nepali remains vibrant, and there has been an increase in those who speak the language at home. Of those counted, 0.34% said their mother tongue was Hindi, while 1,323 were English speakers. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/counting-on-nepal">Counting on Nepal</a>, Editorial <h2>Faith in numbers</h2> The census recorded 10 religions in 2021, the same number as ten years ago. Hinduism remains the predominant belief system by far, followed by Buddhism and Islam.&nbsp; In 2021, 81.19% of Nepal’s population identified as Hindu, slightly down from 81.34% a decade ago. Buddhists have also declined slightly from 9.04% to 8.21%, while the Islam, Kirat, and Christian populations have all increased marginally compared to the last census.&nbsp; Christians make up 1.76% (up from 1.41%) while Muslims constitute 5.09% (compared to 4.38% in 2011).&nbsp; But Hinduism remaining the majority faith by a large margin has not stopped some groups from spreading alarm about a perceived increase in Muslims and Christians. They have even accused the government of keeping the true numbers down in order to avoid public backlash.&nbsp; Interestingly, some Christian groups have also raised concerns about the census not being a reflection of their true numbers. Experts and religious groups have weighed in to say there could be a data discrepancy. There is also the possibility that many Christians, fearing reprisal, told &nbsp;enumerators they were Hindu. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-demographic-dividend">Nepal’s demographic dividend</a>, Shristi Karki  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230630050648_dc177c4ebcc9c1ffa77990b43cb32405d2fc3040651cc6d6bb2321e01cd2de7a.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230630050648_dc177c4ebcc9c1ffa77990b43cb32405d2fc3040651cc6d6bb2321e01cd2de7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="734" height="528" loading="lazy" alt="Religion"> </figure>  Concerns over data inaccuracy may not be entirely unfounded. While more than 61,000 people did not state their religion in 2011, data from this census shows that every Nepali counted has ticked a religion box. It is surprising that not a single person refused to mention any other faith than the 10 included in the census. Prior to releasing the detailed report on ethnicities, languages, and religions, the National Statistics Office admitted it had difficulty in classifying caste, religion and language accurately because many respondents claimed to belong to a previously unknown caste and religion.&nbsp; Deputy chief statistician Hemraj Regmi defended this, saying:“Groups with different surnames within the ethnicity, which were previously considered to be Rai, Limbu, or Magar, have argued that they do not belong to that ethnic group. Others have complained that their language should be mentioned separately, such as Jhapali or Nuwakote.”&nbsp; Some said that their religion was Kavirpanthi, Musto, and Yakthung instead of identifying themselves as traditional Hindus and Buddhists, Regmi said. The confusion has provided fertile ground for Hindu supremacist groups as well as those from minority religions to claim that data has been manipulated.&nbsp; All this also provides grist for populist politicians who want to abolish secularism or to ban the screening of movies under the banner of pseudo-nationalism. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-populist-party-balenist">Nepal Populist Party (Balenist)</a>, Editorial

Shristi Karki

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Decoding diversity

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5759c7e80680e09670cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1168"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Nepal is being engulfed by a second Covid-19 wave, but that has not deterred the <a href="https://cbs.gov.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://cbs.gov.np/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHjpdB6VBkaD12OSHCdtm5WKfbnAA">Central Bureau of Statistics</a> (CBS) as it puts finishing touches to an <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/everybody-counts-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/everybody-counts-in-nepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHWsKnBlwWEq9HjHve2mVa1kbn0OQ">ambitious National Population and Household Census</a> scheduled for 8-22 June.CBS has devised three phases of training at the central, provincial and local levels, and has completed the central and provincial briefings. In the final phase, officials trained in previous sessions will instruct 8,000 census supervisors and 39,000 enumerators during week-long sessions in late April and late May respectively.The data collection will be more comprehensive and detailed, with the use of three separate questionnaires: House and Household Listing, the main questionnaire, and the Community Questionnaire. The main questionnaire with 55 questions will be the longest questionnaire out of any other country that conducts a census, while the Community Questionnaire will be the first of its kind used in a national census.The census will also make more prominent use of technology in the data collection process with enumerators deployed within Kathmandu Valley set to use electronic tablets to record information.Each national census since the first one has shown increased diversity in terms of ethnicity, religion and languages spoken. This year’s census is Nepal’s 12th and because of greater social awareness, inclusion and empowerment, the results are expected to reflect the country’s changing socio-political and demographic landscape more accurately, and add to the country’s linguistic, cultural, and ethnic richness.The first four census from 1911 to 1941 were primarily head-counts conducted to gather data about able-bodied Nepalis who could be sent to fight the British Empire’s wars overseas. However, the censuses since 1952 have documented the country’s changing social demography.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5789c7e80680e09670djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="626"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>‘The democratic wave in Nepal after 1990 played a major role not only in collecting better census data on ethnic/caste, linguistic and religious groups but these data have also become instrumental in understanding the interethnic and inter-religious relationships among various groups of people,’ writes Dilli Ram Dahal in the 2014 <a href="https://www.google.com.np/url?sa=t&amp;rct=j&amp;q=&amp;esrc=s&amp;source=web&amp;cd=&amp;cad=rja&amp;uact=8&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjCnuuJioPwAhV_wzgGHVVVBkgQFjAAegQIBBAD&amp;url=https://nepal.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/pub-pdf/Population%2520Monograph%2520V02.pdf&amp;usg=AOvVaw31jW_JvStlSNQMJhlKSRuN" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.google.com.np/url?sa%3Dt%26rct%3Dj%26q%3D%26esrc%3Ds%26source%3Dweb%26cd%3D%26cad%3Drja%26uact%3D8%26ved%3D2ahUKEwjCnuuJioPwAhV_wzgGHVVVBkgQFjAAegQIBBAD%26url%3Dhttps://nepal.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/pub-pdf/Population%252520Monograph%252520V02.pdf%26usg%3DAOvVaw31jW_JvStlSNQMJhlKSRuN&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGADSwyVNWu0nLEuMTaNEfkVJRLMQ">Population Monograph of Nepal</a>.Nepal’s topographical range and its location astride the Himalaya has given the country ethno-linguistic diversity unparalleled in the world. The first modern census of 1952-54 was also the first to collect data on languages spoken, and all following census has asked respondents their ‘mother tongue’ and their ‘second language’.The 1952 census put Nepal’s language count at only 44, and the number actually decreased in the three subsequent censuses, to 36 in 1961, then more dramatically to 17 in 1971. In fact, responses to census questionnaires on social demographic data show a direct correlation to Nepal’s political and socio-cultural evolution. For example, the number of languages began to increase from the 1991 census onwards.“Since the restoration of democracy in 1990, there has been a sharp rise in ethno-linguistic awareness among linguistic minorities, including indigenous peoples about their mother tongues,” writes Yogendra P Yadava in the Population Monograph.The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/09/27/nepals-population-26-6-million/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2011/09/27/nepals-population-26-6-million/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH25d0c3bd_PGzngduCr1m3tzb0-w">2011 census</a> puts the official number of languages at 123. Of them, 19 are non-Nepali languages, some of which include Arabi, Russian, Chinese, Spanish. However, the National Language Commission has identified eight more languages since its establishment in 2016, and this is expected to be reflected in this year’s count.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce57a9c7e80680e09670ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1119" height="822"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Yet, even as new languages are identified, some of Nepal’s indigenous languages are in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/lost-in-translation/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGpgoEsPRha7u6Ds9SWg0FHV6X6ZQ">danger of becoming extinct</a>. The 2011 census identified 37 languages having less than 1,000 speakers as being endangered. Among them, the Dura, Kusunda, and Tillung languages have only one speaker each left, and may not even register in this year’s census.“The status of Nepal’s languages and linguistic diversity have reflected well in Nepali censuses only during periods of democracy, and not in times of tyranny and autocracy,” explains Lok Bahadur Lopchan of the Nepal Language Commission. Indeed, fluctuations in the language count correspond with major political upheavals in Nepal’s history.In a bid to better understand Nepal’s linguistic diversity and identify the status of languages spoken, the Commission and CBS have introduced a new question to the language section in the census forms. In addition to ‘mother tongue’ and ‘second language’, respondents this time will also be asked to mention their ‘ancestral’ language.“Because the language of teaching and communication is predominantly in Nepali, the mother tongue for many people across Nepal’s ethnic communities has become Nepali as well. Adding ancestral language to the questionnaire will help us ascertain which languages have lost speakers,” Lopchan explains.In fact, Dilli Ram Dahal notes in his analysis that “dominant groups, such as Newa, Magar and Rai are switching over in large numbers to the Nepali language, not only because it is an official language but also because of their day to day interaction with the Nepali language speaking communities.”“If the respondents answer openly, we might get more accurate data, and there is a possibility that the total number of endangered languages will be double of what it is now,” adds Lopchan.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce57d9c7e80680e09670fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="652"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Meanwhile, data collection in the census could also be affected by an increasing number of inter-ethnic, multi-lingual families as the country goes through a cultural shift."We are inherently a patriarchal society, so the data about ancestral language might be dominated by the male side of the family in case of inter-ethnic or inter-caste families, even if the first language the respondent has learned is that of the mother’s,” notes Lopchan. “In such cases, respondents might record their father’s language as the ancestral language and their mother's language as their mother tongue. Or, they might have learned to speak only in Nepali for convenience.”Unlike fluctuations in data related to language, the number of Nepalis practising various religions has continued to increase ever since Nepal began to keep faith records in the census of 1952/54. The 1952 census recognised only three major religions: Hindu, Buddhist, and Islam. Jainism and Christianity were added to the census in 1961, Kirat in 1991, Sikh and Baha’i in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8345#.X6oMhi8RoWo" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D8345%23.X6oMhi8RoWo&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHiGzP6IHzsdfSl1d-rW4IeZK7QuA">2001</a>, and Bon and Prakriti Dharma being the latest additions in 2011.However, even as the absolute number of Nepalis practising various religions increase, the percentage of Nepalis who identify as Hindu has declined over the years from 89% to 81% of the total population. Meanwhile, the percentage of Nepali Christians has continued to increase from zero in 1952 to 1.4% of the population in 2011.The gradual decline in the percentage of Nepal’s Hindu population has brought to the forefront conversations about religious freedom after the country became secular, but has also been a cause for concern about religious conversion and proselytisation by western and Korean Evangelical groups in recent years.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5809c7e80680e096710jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1125" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Revealingly, the 2011 census showed that the number of Nepalis identifying as Christians was 85,000 in urban areas and almost 290,000 in rural areas.‘As most of Nepali people live in rural areas, it is natural that there are more people following a particular type of religion in rural areas. But it also gives a strong message that rural people could be motivated more easily to change their religion if external factors play a role in following their religious faiths or values,’ writes Dilli Ram Dahal in the Population Monograph.This also raises concerns about how individual respondents might hesitate to be forthcoming about their religious identity due to a pressure to say they belong to the same faith as their family members, or fear of ostracisation if they admit to following a different religion. But census officials do not believe these issues will affect the accuracy of data this year.“Religion is an individual choice, and as such, respondents are free to disclose their religion regardless of family or ethnic background,” says Tirtha Raj Chaulagain of the CBS. “Our enumerators are trained to ask questions individually to each member of the household, so we anticipate little error in data as far as religion is concerned.”CBS has identified 10 major religious groups from the previous census, in addition to having an ‘others’ section. Yet even as data and discourse around religious diversity have increased, there is a distinct lack of conversation surrounding individuals who might be atheist or agnostic. This can be attributed to the intricate links between religion, culture and tradition in Nepali society that informs the everyday lives of Nepalis. Additionally, the reluctance to be open about one’s religious identity might also extend to a disinclination towards disclosing the absence of any religious faith.“While we do not have a section for such individuals, we do have an ‘others' section, where respondents are free to specify that they do not identify with any religion,” says Chaulagain. “The fact is, if enough respondents had previously specified being atheist or agnostic, we would have coded and categorised it immediately."<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5839c7e80680e096711jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="636"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Even though an individual or community’s ethnic identity is intricately tied to a sense of linguistic and religious belonging, caste and ethnicity were only included for the first time in the 1991 census, 40 years after Nepal began to keep records of language and religion. Sixty caste or ethnic groups were identified in the 1991 census, 100 in 2001 and 125 in 2011.“The rise in the consciousness of identity, and the consequent desire to project one’s group as distinctive and unique, has also contributed to the increase in the number of caste and ethnic groups,” writes Pitambar Sharma in his 2014 analysis of the 2011 census, <a href="https://soscbaha.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/some-aspects-on-nepals-social-demography.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Some Aspects of Nepal’s Social Demography</a>.In fact, rising ethnic awareness and openness have resulted in a sharp population increase of some ethnic communities like the Kami and Badi that previously went underreported. The Kami population increased by 40.4% from 2001 to 2011, going from almost 0.9million to more than 1.2 million. Meanwhile, the Badi population went from 4,893 in 2001 to 38,603 in 2011, increasing by 678%.“In the case of Kami, many of them had concealed their own caste identity, putting down a surname of either the high-caste Hindu groups or simply reporting themselves as Dalit, without identifying their own caste in the 2001 census,” writes Dilli Ram Dahal. “Recording of Badi was also the same in the 2001 census. Many of them simply put their family name “Nepali”, and later the CBS labelled them as Dalit or unidentified Dalit.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5869c7e80680e096712jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="626"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Indeed, ethnic and caste groups counted in the ‘other’ category have also decreased over the years, with the numbers going down from more than 800,000 in 1991 to a little more than 100,000 in 2011. This signifies that CBS has been collecting more accurate data and is becoming more inclusive and aware of Nepal’s diverse ethnic landscape.Meanwhile, internal migration has led to depopulation in the mountains and hills of Nepal in the last decade, with people moving South to the Tarai in search of better opportunities. 'Ethnic groups who have moved away from their native areas were more concentrated in the Tarai areas adjoining their hill habitats,' writes Pitambar Sharma in his analysis. This has made the Tarai more ethnically diverse and more heterogeneous than the hill and mountain populations. In comparison, major Tarai caste/ethnic groups were less mobile, continuing to reside in their native areas.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5899c7e80680e096713jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="876" height="715"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The effects of urban migration are also clear in cities like Kathmandu, where significant migration by people of other ethnic communities has led to the Newa community no longer remaining a majority in terms of population, according to the 2011 census.Yet even as Nepalis seek to carve out separate identities in the current socio-cultural climate, studies and experts acknowledge that there is a gap in data due to the absence of extensive surveys to identify Nepal’s distinct ethnic compositions and cultures.Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/lies-damned-lies-and-statistics/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/lies-damned-lies-and-statistics/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGs5AKAqBxWcsFpWndSFaItFSLfSg">Lies, damned lies, and statistics</a>, Ramesh Kumar<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/remembering-the-1961-census/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/remembering-the-1961-census/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1618706386602000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFNnRId5olOIWaMI35aM8tnwor0xA">Remembering the 1961 census</a>, Bhairab Risal

Nepal to conduct census amidst Covid-19 surge

The Kathmandu Valley has attracted an exceptional number of outstanding and accomplished foreigners over the decades, but few as extraordinary as Marilyn Silverstone (1929-1999).&nbsp; Frances Klatzel’s book A Portrait of Ourselves, Marilyn Silverstone: From Photojournalist to Buddhist Nun, is a fitting and fascinating biographical celebration of this American woman whose life of unusual choices took her, as the title suggests, from an affluent Jewish childhood in Scarsdale, New York to becoming an acclaimed and adventurous Magnum photographer.&nbsp; Roving the world, her camera captured many of the most iconic events of the 20th century, her images were published in Time, Life, Newsweek, Look, National Geographic, Paris Match, Vogue and other magazines. Following the teachings of Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, Marilyn Silverstone devoted the last twenty years of her eventful life to living quietly and practising Buddhism in Nepal. Ordained as a Buddhist nun, she took vows in the sanctified Solukhumbu precincts of Thubten Choling with Venerable Trulshik Rinpoche in the spring of 1977. Living in Kathmandu until her death in Shechen Monastery, which she helped create, Marilyn wrote: ‘When I look back over the years, although I did not know it at the time, ending my life as a Buddhist nun was logical and inevitable.’&nbsp; Ani Marilyn was a familiar figure amid the sacred spaces of the Valley, the lanes of Boudha and even Kathmandu’s drawing rooms during my early years in Nepal, a large smiling presence draped in maroon robes, dyed sneakers, slightly whiskered, robust.&nbsp; As a wedding gift she gave Tenzin and I an inscribed copy of her slim volume, Ocean of Life, aptly named for the span of her achievements and expansive embrace – editor, translator, writer, filmmaker, photographer, journalist and Buddhist nun. Marilyn’s nephew wrote: ‘Her legacy was that she was always herself no matter what chapter of her life that she was living.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100124_70d489c3d161f59668f315ede60cbb213d365357b0a9f2d7aad3b537a14dcb5e.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260122100124_70d489c3d161f59668f315ede60cbb213d365357b0a9f2d7aad3b537a14dcb5e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1164" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Ani Marilyn"> <figcaption>Ani Marilyn as a Tibetan Buddhist nun at Shechen Monastery in Boudha.</figcaption> </figure>  Working with a wide range of impeccable sources, Frances Klatzel has assembled first-hand the personal recollections and unsparing insights from Marilyn’s most intimate friends. One of these, Jane Abell Coon, wrote the Introduction. She was a well-known person in 1980s Kathmandu whose husband Carlton Coon served as American Ambassador to Nepal and she simultaneously as American Ambassador in Bangladesh.&nbsp; The book begins with a rare message from the 14th Dalai Lama and a touching Foreword by Venerable Rabjam Rinpoche. It ends with exquisite excerpts from a Buddhist religious tract that Marilyn had translated from its traditional Tibetan text. Marilyn’s initial trip to India was to photograph Ravi Shankar in 1955, the classical sitar maestro. Increasingly fascinated by ‘the complex and compassionate culture’ of Tibet, her Himalayan archives include images throughout India, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan.&nbsp; The first internationally accredited photojournalist to base herself in India, from 1959 Marilyn lived in Bombay then Delhi, with her lifelong partner Frank Moraes, the Goan journalist, writer, commentator and first Indian editor of the Times of India after Independence. INDIAN INFLUENCERS I remember being taken to meet the legendary Frank Moraes in 1973, by then politically exiled in Marilyn’s elegant but chaotic London house, a magnet for South Asian intellectuals. She was not there, but Frank’s son the poet Dom Moraes was slumped desultory on a sagging sofa. My impression of Frank was well-dressed, polite and slightly distracted. Marilyn’s talent for friendship and wide network of Indian influencers and princely connections gave her unique access to historic events, as well as recording refugees, rituals, droughts, floods, famines and funerals. In addition to maharajahs and global leaders, her images portray personal moments, ordinary people, unflinching pain and flashes of joy. She said: ‘In my job, the closer you get to people, the better off you are.’ This book is illustrated with a thrilling trove of pictures of and by Marilyn, many of which reflect the impact of Henri Cartier-Bresson who signed her up as one of the first women to join his prestigious Magnum photo cooperative.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100124_6dfdef41da5945aea0a8bbd8c1514af5de2adb36361d4e20c29914c59f2039e0.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100124_6dfdef41da5945aea0a8bbd8c1514af5de2adb36361d4e20c29914c59f2039e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2124" height="1404" loading="lazy" alt="Ani Marilyn"> </figure>  Her assignments ranged across warzones in Vietnam, the Shah of Iran’s coronation, and Russian tanks rolling into Prague. Marilyn’s 1960s involved constant travel, her Magnum beat was the ‘Far East’, from Pakistan and Bangladesh to China, Korea, and Japan.&nbsp; With a knack at being in the right place at the right time, Marilyn was the only western woman journalist to record the arrival from Lhasa into ‘safety and exile’ of the young Dalai Lama in 1959. She was at Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s funeral in Delhi, the Chogyal of Sikkim’s marriage to Hope Cooke, and with Jacqueline Kennedy on a small boat at the Lake Palace of Udaipur.&nbsp; Marilyn snapped the Pope giving blessings in Bombay, Mother Teresa attending to the poor, and the Beatles on their way to meet the Maharishi. With Frank, she travelled to Africa and shot Emperor Haile Selassie in Ethiopia, Nigeria’s independence celebrations, and a very old and solar-topied Dr Albert Schweitzer in his jungle hospital in Gabon.&nbsp; A Portrait of Ourselves, Marilyn Silverstone: From Photojournalist to Buddhist Nun, is a highly recommended tribute to an inspirational life, told with discerning honesty and private perceptions by those who knew her best.&nbsp; Her monastic years living in Nepal continued to feature travel, hard work, undiminished curiosity, dogged fights for right, uncompromising support for others, disdain for conformity and battles with ill health, but all with her characteristic good humour. Marilyn leaves us with some sound advice in her own words: “I can say that I did it all. The secret though is just keep walking through life without analysing it too much or clinging to it too much. Just walk on.” &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100140_dc0c465e462bd14e92b2a2e79b5349f23fa039bcda81cc02a9a70adbcee35c7b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100140_dc0c465e462bd14e92b2a2e79b5349f23fa039bcda81cc02a9a70adbcee35c7b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="marilyn silverstone"> </figure>

“Just walk on”

The pale green ice on the top of the lake gleams in the pale January sunlight. The dark waters beneath are visible through the translucent frozen surface. This is Thulagi Glacial Lake at the foot of Mt Manaslu in central Nepal, classified as one of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">most dangerous lakes </a>to appear in the Himalaya due to climate heating.&nbsp; The place is breathtaking not just because of its 4,050m altitude, but the scenery all around. The beauty belies the threat this expanding lake poses downstream along the Marsyangdi Valley. &nbsp; The lake lies at the terminus of the 4.5km long Thulagi Glacier. The local Gurung inhabitants call it Dona Tal. They say it started appearing in the 1960s. Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung, 47, has been ferrying trekkers to the spot for about 20 years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>MELTING MOUNTAINS: Thulagi Glacial Lake in Manang has been identified among 47 lakes in Nepal at risk of an outburst flood because of climate breakdown. All photos: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Yaks graze below Thulagi Himal (7,059m) and Mt Manaslu (8,163m) along the Dona Khola that drains the lake.</figcaption> </figure>  “Dona used to be small, but it has now grown bigger,” he says, gesturing to how the glacier has receded and shrunk. Trekkers used to be able to go to the other side, but now the glacier is riddled with ponds and boulders falling off the moraine that make it dangerous.&nbsp; Gurung adds rather matter-of-factly: “The lake will burst sooner or later.”&nbsp; Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) has been studying Thulagi for the past two decades. Topographic maps from the 1960s and early satellite images show the lake being much smaller.&nbsp; When the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-resource-curse">Marsyangdi Hydropower Project</a> project was being built in 1994, the German Institute of Geology and Natural Resources with the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology measured the lake to be already 2km in length. More recent surveys show the lake has increased its size since then to more than 1 sq km. &nbsp; The lake is among 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya">dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal and Tibet </a>&nbsp;identified by ICIMOD in 2020 due to its size, the risk of landslides and avalanches, and the gradual collapse of the lake’s ice-core moraine dam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung has been taking trekkers up to Thulagi Lake for 20 years.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2018 a team of glaciologists led by Umesh K Haritasya <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/10/5/798">published a journal article</a> about the evolution of three glacial lakes including Thulagi, Lower Barun, and Imja. Even back in 1976, Thulagi was twice the size of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja glacial lake</a> in the Khumbu and six times the size of the Lower Barun. The team measured the lake’s depth at 79m, and calculated that it held 36.1 million m3 of water. Since then, Thulagi has been growing at a slower rate than the other two lakes because it is shielded by shadows of mountains. There is also not as much glacial calving in the narrow valley.&nbsp; Nonetheless, scientists and experts have long warned that a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from Thulagi poses a big risk to four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and settlements like Besisahar and Dumre (map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504" data-rendition-name="original" width="2076" height="1444" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi map"> </figure>  The lake feeds into Dona Khola, a tributary of the Marsyangdi where the 49.9MW Dona Khola hydropower project is being built at a cost of Rs10 billion. Another 42MW Super Dona Khola project is planned on the river. “One of the trigger points that could lead to a glacial lake outburst could be the steep lateral moraine, which might be weakened by rapidly melting permafrost,” says Scott Watson, a University of Leeds researcher who was part of the team that conducted the 2018 study. Locals are already witnessing what Watson describes. They say that it was easy to reach Thulagi’s headwaters even until a few years ago, but that is now dangerous because of ice and rockfalls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>The 50MW Upper Marsyangdi Hydropower Project station in Lamjung. A Thulagi Lake outburst would damage four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and its tributaries.</figcaption> </figure>  GLOF WARNING&nbsp; Glaciologist Rijan Bhakta Kayastha has been studying Thulagi since 1994, and was part of a team that discovered that the lake’s terminal moraine was made up of rocky soil on top and ice at its core.&nbsp; In 2020, Kayastha's team published a study that modelled the route of a possible GLOF. They found that if the lake burst, it would take 2.5 hours to reach Dharapani, and 4 hours to reach Bahundanda 39km downstream. The surge would be 13.7m high at Dharapani and 15m by the time it reached Taal, the village most at risk because it is situated only a few metres above the Marsyangdi. ‘Considering the size of the Thulagi glacial lake and its dam, it seems unlikely that a rock fall or avalanche would cause the lake to breach the moraine dam,” concluded the study. “But an earthquake or climate change would require a separate study. At present, there is no immediate or imminent threat of this glacier bursting.” MEMORIES OF 2021 Across Manang valley, residents are haunted by the memories of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">2021 flood on the Marsyangdi</a> that swept away parts of Chame, Dharapani, Naso, and Taal villages.&nbsp; Kamarkali Gurung, grew up on the banks of the Marsyangdi in Dharapani, and had never imagined that the tranquil river she knew could become such a monster. She had saved up to build her own three-story property with 17 rooms.&nbsp; Her family was away that June evening when the flood swept away her hotel. “Not even a spoon remained, everything was gone,” says Kamarkali. “Losing the hotel hurt like losing a loved one. The Marsyangdi flows through my house now, I can never go back.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>SURVIVORS: Kamarkali Gurung's hotel was swept away by the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi. She now operates her hotel from a rented house in Dharapani.</figcaption> </figure>  Surendra Gurung, also a hotelier, was in Dharapani the night of the flood, and can still remember the fear as the river roared towards the village. “I did not know if I would live or die,” he says.&nbsp; Sirantal village was merely 10m above the Marsyangdi, and was completely destroyed by the flood. Thirty-two people were rescued by army helicopters, and most of the families have now relocated to Taal.&nbsp; One of them is Singha Bahadur Gurung who also ran a lodge for 20 years. “We did not have to buy anything except rice, the soil in Sirantal was so fertile,” he remembers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Singha Bahadur Gurung operated a lodge in Sirantal before the flood swept it away in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  Marsyangdi now flows through where Singha Gurung’s village used to be. “Ever since the flood, I am terrified every time it rains from June to August,” he says.&nbsp; The 2021 flood was during the monsoon, and was caused by unusually heavy rainfall in the catchment. A GLOF on the Marsyangdi would be much more destructive. Roshni Ghale, 46, runs a hotel in Taal, and escaped with her family to a nearby cave as the flood engulfed nearby homes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Roshni Ghale spent six months after the 2021 flood rebuilding her hotel in Taal. Tourism has steadily picked up in the four years since the flood. </figcaption> </figure>  “We spent the next six months after the flood rebuilding our lives, going to bed hungry many a night,” she recalls. In the four years since, tourism has picked up again, but the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters"> community is still traumatised</a>. In the wake of the floods, the government had begun talks to rehabilitate and repatriate the community, but until now, they have been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/from-one-disaster-to-the-next">empty promises</a>. In any case, the people here, most of them experienced hoteliers whose livelihood depends on tourism, are unwilling to uproot their lives and start over elsewhere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Most of the survivors of the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi from villages like Sirantal have relocated to the upstream village of Taal, which itself was hit by a monsoon flood in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  DISASTER PREPAREDNESS Even though studies have assessed the risk of GLOFs in Manang and across Nepal, and warned about the damage that such floods could cause, it took until 2021 for early warning systems to be installed on the banks of the Marsyangdi and in the town of Taal.&nbsp; But beyond that, there has been little preparedness. Early warning systems and disaster preparedness are necessary not just along the Marsyangdi but also at and around Thulagi itself, say experts. Locals here are becoming increasingly aware of the risk posed by the expanding lake up the valley, but are reluctant to leave homes and communities that they have lived in for generations. The hydropower projects on the Dona Khola promises jobs, and the local government is upgrading the hiking trail to Thulagi Lake which has become a tourist attraction. “Manang now gets <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/too-little-snow-too-much-rain">too little snow and too much rain</a>, and the Marsyangdi charts its own course,” says Min Rashi Gurung, chair of Ward-1 of Naso rural municipality, where Thulagi is located. &nbsp; But help may be on the way.Last year, the Green Climate Fund (GCF) approved a $36.1 million grant to help Nepal reduce risk of GLOFs in Thulagi and four other glacial lakes. The project is managed by the government and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The project is set to begin next fiscal year, and will reduce the water level in the four glacial lakes including Thulagi, similar to what was done in Imja and Tso Rolpa, says Dinkar Kayastha at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. &nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

This is the 81st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I went to Australia in 2008 because everyone was headed there. It was my first time leaving the country and my first job. My college helped me find work as a kitchen helper at a Brisbane restaurant.&nbsp; I did not know that being a kitchen helper meant washing dishes. I was young and did not know how to wash dishes or how to handle the steam, the hot water, and the busy kitchen. The utensils were thrown at the dishwashing station continuously, and water splashed on my face. My shoes and clothes were always wet. It was an on-call job. A couple of days into the job, I was asked to come in when I was at the movies. I refused. They fired me. That was that. I then worked on a farm, picking lemons and oranges. The lemon work was particularly hard because I would get cuts all over my hands. This hustle was not for me.&nbsp; Within a year in Australia, I decided to return to Nepal because the foreign life did not suit me. After spending eight months in Nepal, reality sank in. Nepal was not all that great either. I went back to Australia. On the plane, I befriended a Nepali woman who was homesick and a first time traveler. At the immigration in Australia, the officer noticed my long absence and started interrogating me. He noticed the Nepali woman waiting for me and asked who she was. Without thinking I lied that she was my girlfriend. That seemed to do the trick because he did not want us to be separated. He stamped my passport. She went her way. I went mine.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f" data-rendition-name="original" width="987" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81 NT"> </figure>  In Sydney, I again found a dishwashing job at a fine dining restaurant. A Sri Lankan colleague helped me learn the job. The pace at which I had to do the dishes was insane but I got the hang of it in two weeks. I always dreamt of one day wearing the chef’s white coat. It commanded respect, I could tell. In addition to becoming good at my job washing dishes, I also had good language and networking skills so I built good relationships with colleagues. There was a need for a pizza chef at the restaurant. It was expensive to hire someone new, and they asked me if I was up for the job. I said yes even though I knew nothing about making pizzas. My Italian colleagues coached me and before I knew it, I became better than others at the job. Soon, I realised that I did not just want to make pizzas. Whatever I wanted to learn, I just asked seniors to take me under their wings and I would help without pay. They would agree but still pay me. It wasn’t a strategy per se, I genuinely wanted to learn. At some point, a Japanese sous chef in my restaurant and I had coincidentally applied to the same restaurant, and there, under him, I got to learn even more. Working with a Japanese chef is really difficult, but you learn a lot. He would sometimes even hold my hand with tongs dipped in hot water when I screwed something up. I worked in a few restaurants after this and was earning well. When one of my colleagues, a dishwasher, was let go unfairly, I decided to leave because I did not want to be a quiet bystander to this act. I returned to Nepal immediately after this.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="DD 82"> </figure>  I started a restaurant called Ghumti, but it was struggling. The location of the restaurants was not good and it failed. I bought another restaurant in Darbar Marg. I was managing two restaurants when Covid hit. The rent kept piling up, and there was no revenue. I took a huge loss. I gave them up and returned to Chitwan and started making migration plans. I came across a job vacancy for Alba in Qatar by the famous Enrico Crippa. I still remember the heat when I got out of the airport in Doha, it was like entering an oven. Thankfully, I had a Nepali roommate who showed me around and helped me adjust.&nbsp; The hotel was still under construction, but training had started. We worked really hard for the opening and things went well. In 2023, we even won the Best MENA Restaurant award. But at some point in 2024, the international Crippa chain decided to leave.&nbsp; Some colleagues including the head chef left and I suddenly was put in charge. I had some head chef experience from Australia and had previous experience working in high pressure environments, so I stepped up. We had to start from scratch again, this time as Alba in Raffles, Doha.&nbsp; The name of our restaurant comes from the Alba white truffle, which is the best available and is expensive, selling at around 40,000 QAR per kg. We had heard the official announcement that the Michelin was coming to Qatar, and we worked even harder.&nbsp; Michelin inspections are strict, highly secretive and you have no idea you are being investigated. Even then, we were up for the game. We were ‘selected’ which meant we had potential.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="697" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81"> </figure>  I went to the award ceremony with low expectations. But because they announce the name alphabetically, Alba came first. I was very happy and felt validated. Being recognised as a Michelin one star restaurant is a huge achievement for us. My MD reminded me of a promise I had made of getting a Michelin tattoo if we got the award. I guess I will get it done when I come to Nepal next. My plan is to get a tattoo that captures my journey right from the dishwashing days.&nbsp; I have cooked for Obama, Beckham, Kaka, Trump, 50 Cent, Lindsay Lohan, you name it, because our restaurant is visited by high profile guests. At first, I used to feel the pressure. Now I view all guests as the same. The food you make is the same no matter who is eating it. I love the work. In fact, it does not feel like work. The rush in the kitchen, the atmosphere, the heat, the scent, I live for it. When I am not working, I get bored. It is like an addiction without which I get withdrawals. I want to contribute in introducing Nepali cuisine and ingredients in the worldstage. Nepalis overseas have a lot of potential in the hospitality sector. But my advice to youth is to focus on building a strong base and invest in learning. It is increasingly common for Nepalis to job hop for a salary jump. While other skills like language are also important, it is the hard skills that we really need to focus on. In our field of work, it is the plate that needs to speak.

Sky is the limit

A mighty metal bird, ‘Heron on Hunt’ spreads its wings and unhinges its mouth hungrily. It looks down at ‘The Defending Crab,’ which has windshield wipers for legs and opens its pincers defiantly at the heron, daring it to attack. The crab shell is made of a ceiling fan, the blades of which have been cut up to form the bird’s wings. “The story is that you are what you eat,” says artist <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Saurab Koirala</a>, whose solo exhibition ‘<a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a>’ at <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/archiving-for-the-future-an-intersection-of-heritage-and-architecture/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next </a>has sculptures made of material retrieved from garbage warehouses. Koirala was in the studio when protestors ransacked the adjacent Hyatt Hotel on 9 September. The windows of the iconic museum designed by <a href="https://www.archdaily.com/957728/carl-pruscha-an-architect-investigating-overlooked-territories" target="_blank">architect Carl Pruscha</a> in the 1960s were all shattered, but the studio survived. He used the broken glass to make fins for his fish sculptures and wings for insects.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026012409010_0c6c0f6d69472940e1c623db7bae62235a18ded418066b1c8ecc89485d76dcd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Metamorphosis is a reference to the transformation of trash into art, but it is also fitting because many of the repurposed items are of insects: a firefly, a dung beetle, a spider, a dragonfly, a queen ant. The most striking are the pair of praying mantises, the smaller one is black, made of windshield wipers, and the larger grey one is made of a motorcycle silencer, bicycle parts, and a fluorescent tube holder. About the unrealistic size difference, Koirala notes that each piece is made of a component that defines its size. For the larger grey mantis, the defining piece is the silencer that makes up its torso. “The mantises are mating,” Koirala explains. “The female mantis will cannibalise the male afterwards, and the dragonfly witnesses the whole scene.” It is possible to look at each installation and immediately recognise what it is meant to be, but on looking closer we see what the parts are made of, and how. The exhibition is from Koirala’s Taragaon Next residency program sponsored by the Saraf Foundation.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026012409010_35d47a71c3e357d4cdba166cdcbf37019639c68a3d69a158f19fe97ea48065ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  Koirala thinks of himself as primarily a painter and a caricature artist, and not a sculptor. His mother was a teacher, and would make miniature animals, gods, houses for her students. “Seeing how happy she was doing that made me want to do it too, although she did not want me to be an artist,” Koirala recalls. Some of his mother’s creations are also on display at the exhibition. Koirala got more experience working with 3D models digitally in his work at Incessant Rain animation studio, especially animals. This seems to have given him strong visualisation skills that he has put to use in the art pieces, using minimal bending and cutting. Koirala participated in the WastArt Competition in 2018, where his Danphe sculpture made from colourful coke and soda cans was so striking that it became a part of the permanent collection at the Sagarmatha Next Art Gallery in Syangboche. Koirala worked in the studio in Khumbu, fashioning yaks and bees out of trekking trash.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026012409010_253578bca93f136dca51102fc03a675cc3a8f47ba0b2d31ae2a4020c2c6e7485" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Saurab Koirala exhibition Taragaon Next NT"></figure>  “My back hurts,” he grimaces as he opens the doors to the studio, an unassuming shed a short walk from the exhibition which is littered with metal spare parts for future art. He has gone through three whole bicycles with a power saw. Koirala seems to want to alter the scrap as little as possible, and it is uncanny how well some of it fits the pieces. The aerodynamic curved fuel tank of a Bajaj Avenger motorcycle becomes the abdomen of a gigantic queen ant. A mosquito repellent becomes the green body of a spider. A stapler and a coconut turn into a snail. The steel legs of a rolling office chair curve exactly into the legs and paws of a fox in motion. “I did not want the animals to be in static poses. I wanted to capture dynamic movement,” says Koirala. Fittingly, most of the parts he has chosen have come from vehicles: bicycles, motorcycles, scooters, car horns, air filters. While Koirala’s work in his Sagarmatha Next residency was about waste encroaching into nature in the mountains, his work in Metamorphosis is a nostalgic memory of a happy childhood in Biratnagar. ‘There used to be abundant dragonflies in my hometown,’ writes Koirala in his description. “As kids, we would catch them and tie threads to their tails and fly them like kites.” The message about the degradation of nature is more valid than ever. The world is seeing the mass extinction of insects, and uncontrolled urbanisation of polluted Kathmandu Valley means only ants and some spiders survive. Artist in Studio #9: <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/events/artist-in-studio-9-metamorphosis-by-saurab-koirala/" target="_blank">Metamorphosis</a> <a href="https://taragaonnext.com/" target="_blank">Taragaon Next</a> Till 30 January 10AM-5:30PM

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