<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfde49c7e80680e0a0c0djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>A dancer impersonating Goddess Nil Barahi at the festival. All photo: SAURAV THAPA SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>More than 500 years after they were first performed, Kathmandu Valley’s tantric dance festivals are seeing something of a revival.The Lichhavi and Malla era <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandus-festival-of-the-mysterious-dancing-goddess/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nil Barahi Dyo Pyakhan</a> (निलबाराही द्यो प्याखँ), a mystical ancient dance, is a part of Kathmandu Valley’s rich intangible heritage that is staging a comeback.Residents of Bodey, a quaint Newa settlement north of Thimi, have been performing the tantric dance consisting of different deities including Bhairav, Barahi, Kumari, Simha, Dwarpal and Ganesh.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfde89c7e80680e0a0c0ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>All the deities line up with the Bhairab at centre during a special ritual called Kha Tyeligu that takes place every 12 years.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdeb9c7e80680e0a0c0fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="667" height="1000"><figcaption>An offering of Kisli (prepared with rice, coins and betel nuts) to the deity</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfded9c7e80680e0a0c10jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="667" height="1000"><figcaption>Devotees wait for their turn to provide offerings to the deities.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdf09c7e80680e0a0c11jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"><figcaption>A musician playing mwali</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdf29c7e80680e0a0c12jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"><figcaption>Dwarpal at Nilbarahi Naach</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdf59c7e80680e0a0c13jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Simha jump (Simha ti nwoigu) is one of the most spectacular shows during the festival. Here it is being performed at Nil Barahi Temple premises in Bodey.</figcaption></figure>Legend has it that a Bodey farmer with the surname Dhon (धों) was abducted by the Nil Barahi herself in her deer form and carried into the nearby dense forest of Tigini. The deity taught him a tantric dance, which the locals would go on to perform every year ever since.Some believe that the ritual dates back to an even earlier Lichhavi era, 1,000 years ago. But the first record of the dances being performed are from 1514 (Nepal Sambat 633) when King Subarna Malla commissioned the performance of the Navadurga Naach (नवदुर्गा नाच) in the drought-hit <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhaktapur-shows-the-way-by-rebuilding-itself/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bhaktapur</a>.He also organised Layaku Bhaila (लायकु भैलः) in Thimi and Nil Barahi Naach in Bode. Later in 1718, King Bhupatindra Malla offered ‘Chhati Kathi’, the Royal Sceptre (राजदण्ड) and land for the ritual. The sceptre is intact, and still has the date inscribed on it.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdf99c7e80680e0a0c14jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Ganesh deities during one of the performances.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdfc9c7e80680e0a0c15jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Ganesh deities take a short rest in between the performances.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfdff9c7e80680e0a0c16jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>A participant holding the Sukunda of Bhairab in Nilbarahi Naach Festival.</figcaption></figure>Others state that the dance is the celebration of a peaceful victory in an ancient battle. According to local folklore, three dances took place at the time. Mahakali Naach at Nagadesh portrayed preparation for the war, Navadurga Naach represented the war itself, and Nil Barahi was the celebration.The four days preceding <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saparu-the-festival-of-death-and-rebirt,2543" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Gaijatra</a>, mark the beginning of the festival which this year is held 24-27 August. On these days, the Bodey locals representing the deities are taught the dance in the process called Pyakha Syenegu (प्याखं स्यनेगु), which translates into ‘teaching the dance’. As patrons of the dance, the attendance of Bhairav, Barahi and Ganesh is mandatory.The individuals representing deities draw on heavenly power once they put on their masks. With tantric ability, they dance for four nights and three days despite all hardships. The entire time they dance, the deities and their families cannot consume anything, cannot talk, and only use hand gestures.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe039c7e80680e0a0c17jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe069c7e80680e0a0c18jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1500"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe089c7e80680e0a0c19jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe0c9c7e80680e0a0c1ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe109c7e80680e0a0c1bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Various accessories adorned by the deities.</figcaption></figure>Each deity is accompanied by Jwokalu (ज्वकालु, a helper) to help them with their needs. If the performers need to rest, they can do so only for a few minutes. If a dancer dies before the ritual or during it, one of the family members must step in.The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/patans-dance-of-the-deities/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">animated dance procession</a> has 19 masked dancers but it is acted out by an ensemble of some 100 residents of Bodey. This includes deities, gurus, dancers, musicians and helpers.A variety of musical instruments accompanies the dance. An individual carries a ‘Sukunda’, which has to be aflame throughout the festival. In the past when the lamp had turned off, deities had gotten sick.As soon as every member arrives at Dyo Chhen, the parade begins. But before that, all the masks are brought to Naskuti (नासःकुथि), inside the Dyo Chenn where Jwokalu carries them. An accompanying musical tune is played during the mask-wearing procession.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe149c7e80680e0a0c1cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>The crowd gathered to watch the masked dance.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe199c7e80680e0a0c1djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>The gathering of all the deities.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe1c9c7e80680e0a0c1ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>The pwonga musical team at the festival.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe209c7e80680e0a0c1fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe239c7e80680e0a0c20jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>The procession has a sequenced lined up: flag (ध्वाय्), sword and shield (सँय्), Chilakh (flames), sceptre (rajdanda), Bhairab, Barahi, Kumari, Simha, Dwarpal, Ganesh and musical team at the back.From the Dyo Chhen, the parade takes you to Lachhi (लाछी), Lyaku (लाय्कु), Bishnughat (विष्णुघाट), Bhangu (भाँगु), Khansi (खाँसी) and back to Akha through Lachhi. The deities’ march through the gallis is accompanied by traditional musical instruments like dhaa baja (two-headed drums), ta and bhusyah (cymbals), ponga and mwali (flutes).A variety of rhythmic music is played based on four different dance styles: Nhyakhin Taal (न्ह्याखीं), Dhaa: Taal (द्यःताल), Lisa: Nyosa: (लिसाः न्ह्यसाः ताल) and Simha ti nwoigu Taal (सिंद्य तिं न्वइगु ताल). Deities receive offerings from the locals and relatives as part of the ritual.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141132/636cfe269c7e80680e0a0c21jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Those who can't make it to the procession can still worship the deities with offering at Dyo Chhen at nights during the festival.</figcaption></figure>The enthusiasm and passion of the inhabitants in Bodey is the key to preserving this <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12277#.YSd36i2B2CR" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">ancient tradition</a>, which is why the ritual has continued to this day for the past five centuries. For viewers, it is a unique taste of our culture, for the performers, it is a life-long commitment.The 19 dancers who represent Bhairav, Nil Barahi, Kumari, Singha, Dwarpal and Ganesh take the responsibility for life until a new group is appointed in what is called Dyo Gan Hilegu (द्यःगं हिलिगु; where the deities are changed). The current group has been performing the ritual since 1958 and most of them are in their 70s and 80s.

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Kathmandu Valley’s Nil Barahi Dyo Pyakhan

Laxman Ranjit walks on past the Kasthamandap, one of the Valley’s oldest buildings, from which the city gets its name. There are days when he stops by it briefly. The structure that dates back to the 7th century is in scaffolding as it is being rebuilt after being destroyed on 25 April 2015 earthquake. It was here that Ranjit, his wife Nilu and five-year-old son, Aryan, found themselves during a blood donation drive when the earthquake struck. When the earth started trembling, and the wooden beams and columns of the structure started to shake, Ranjit immediately clasped Aryan to his chest and leapt out of the balcony. He saved his son’s life, but could not save his wife Nilu, whose body was pulled out of the rubble with nine other <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/The-fall-of-Kasthamandap,2234">blood donors who died</a> that day at Kasthamandap. A national level athlete, Ranjit had had the presence of mind and the agility to pick his son up and jump out as the ancient structure collapsed behind them, breaking his leg at several places during the fall. “I never thought Nilu would die,” he recalls. “As they rushed me to hospital I was in excruciating pain, but I remember thinking they must have taken her to hospital as well.” When the dust from the earthquakes had settled, Ranjit suddenly found himself a widower, a single father, left to care for his son and an ageing father. He would spend several months recuperating at the National Trauma Centre, undergoing surgery and counselling. Every time Ranjit leaves his home in Chikamuga in the past six years, he has had to walk past Kasthamandap, and this has become a constant reminder to him of that tragic day. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5cf9c7e80680e09672fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"> Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</div> Laxman is a torch bearer of the Ranjit clan, which has to perform the Majipa Lakhe ritual mask dance during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-celebrates-yenya/">Indra Jatra festival</a> every year. Aside from that, he also leads a parallel mortal existence as a policeman and a national level weight lifting champion in the feather weight category. In <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/getting-behind-the-divine-mask/">his guise of the Majipa Lakhe</a> he used to put on a memorable performance every year, making him the undisputed, celebrated member of the clan of masked dancers. But 25 April 2015 changed his life. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d39c7e80680e096730jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="559" height="278"></div> The days in hospital were an awakening. He recalls how impatient he was to get out into the world again, and how he would walk around the wards, raising the spirits of other injured survivors like himself. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d49c7e80680e096731jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1933"> </div> “There was this bahini who had injured her back. I said to her, you have a life ahead of you, look at me, I lost my wife, I have a child and I might no longer be able to do my job. It is the spirit that keeps us alive, life is not over,” he recalls. Ranjit was not going to let a broken leg strap him, and he knew he would have to don his mask and go back gyrating into the Indra Jatra throng. He missed being behind the ferocious mask, the flowing brocade frock, with the bells clanking around his waist, and dashing through the streets without restraint. He also missed his life as an athlete. Even while recovering from his injury, the next Indra Jatra saw him supporting his brothers who were upholding the responsibility of performing the mask dance. And that is when he met Amrita Maharjan, who he would eventually marry. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5d79c7e80680e096732jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="853"> Phoot curtesy of Laxman Ranjit.</div> “I had heard about what he had been through,” Maharjan tells us. “We met through a cousin. I finally saw who the lakhe really was, and he was a child.” As Amrita spent more time with the father and son, she understood that she would soon have a role to play in their lives. They had a small wedding on the side of Aryan’s Bratabandha ceremony last year. “She has filled a void in our lives,” says Ranjit. “Nilu left me because I spent too much time at work. I will try to spend more time with my family now.” Ranjit is now back to work as the red-haired masked demon at Indra Jatra. He says, “Once I wore my gear, I was the lakhe. My body found the rhythm again.” Because of his injuries, the 41-year-old finds that he can no longer compete as a weight lifter and is considering other professional options. “I could remain a policeman until I retire and wait for a pension, but that will not be enough to give my son a good education,” says Ranjit, who has turned down offers to cameo as Lakhey at national events. Ranjit is troubled by the projection of lakhe as characters in YouTube videos, which have been criticised as cultural misappropriation. “There’s nothing wrong with culture. One needs to understand the history of the land and its connection to the people first,” he says. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121148/636ce5db9c7e80680e096733jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="798"> Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</div> Like all boys in the Ranjit clan, someday Aryan will inherit the mask and fiery attire, which the family regards as a source of strength, but until then the father hopes to build his son’s emotional resilience. “The spirit of the lakhe is indomitable, it does not cower down to anything. The demon is actually a representation of who we are as humans,” Ranjit explains. “We fall, but we have to rise and we have to keep going. It is all about will power.”

Pratibha Tuladhar

The spirit that is fire

We were used to getting stuck in Kathmandu’s notorious traffic with gas fumes and horns blaring. We are still stuck in traffic, but now it is mostly the quiet hum of EVs, and street-level air is noticeably cleaner. Alongside Norway, Nepal has the highest combustion-to-EV conversion rates in the world. And we are not even a middle-income country yet. How did we get here?&nbsp; For the first time in Nepal’s history, 2025 saw an unprecedented turn of events: two back-to-back auto shows a week apart in August, independent of each other. This was timed for the warm up to the Dasain season. &nbsp;&nbsp; The first auto show 6-11 August was the <a href="https://naimanepal.org/mobility-expo" target="_blank">NAIMA Mobility Expo 2025 </a>by the newly established Nepal Automobile Importers and Manufacturers Association which saw 35 new models, many of them EVs with 50 participating brands like Toyota, BYD, Hyundai, Kia, MG, Mahindra, Omoda &amp; Jaecoo, Proton and Leapmotor.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_d8c03f5141f0086814d866543af4d95310f340a7191363e4705aedda8e4b73d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025101711108_d8c03f5141f0086814d866543af4d95310f340a7191363e4705aedda8e4b73d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1770" height="1097" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The exhibition had a strong focus on two-wheelers aimed at affordable and easy mobility in a town now known for long traffic jams (see report). NAIMA attracted a record 100,000 visitors in six days.&nbsp; The second one was the Nepal Automobile Dealer’s Association Auto Show 2025 (<a href="https://youtu.be/emSd0mUuMjU" target="_blank">NADA</a>) to address the growing demands for cars and two-wheelers. It was a natural expression of new market forces at work, on one hand, and popular taste, on the other — one influencing the other.&nbsp; This year’s NADA Auto Show was its 17th iteration, and carried a hefty legacy: exhibiting a contemporary lineup from manufacturers such as Tata, Suzuki, Xpeng and Nammi, but also classics for vintage car lovers like the 1928 Ford Model A and a rare 1955 Austin Princess Dm4 sedan.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_dda7d264ddb12448cc10d9b1cb699632eee975741fc4c56055e4df904579c34f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025101711108_dda7d264ddb12448cc10d9b1cb699632eee975741fc4c56055e4df904579c34f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1381" height="848" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  It also showcased the Deepal eVTOL (a 2-seater drone), and a humanoid robot with dog. Curious onlookers at Bhrikuti Mandap thronged the show with footfall crossing 170,000.&nbsp; Earlier this year, I had traveled to attend India's largest auto show, the <a href="https://youtu.be/OgIIvXx6yOM?si=zNmMgklzCJpagTye" target="_blank">Bharat Mobility Global expo</a> in January in New Delhi. It was part of a <a href="https://youtu.be/GT6LBKiJvyg?si=r7YaxahjSAnsIfBY" target="_blank">roadtrip</a> from one capital to another with BYD Nepal on a Dolphin. The journey took three days through Bhairawa and then the Lucknow-Agra Expressway, covering a distance of 1200km one way.&nbsp; The drive through the horrid Narayanghat-Butwal corridor alone was testimony that EVs are no longer fragile and could handle a beating. And while both Nepal's economy pales in comparison to India, it was evident that the private passenger segment is well on its way to electrification. More than 70% of all vehicles sold in Nepal last year were electric. Sales representatives are unanimous: inquiries for EVs are at an all-time high and overshadow demand for ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) vehicles. Besides four-wheelers, a fast-growing proportion of scooters were also electric.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111016_e4cd988ca915ddd283a86d48fac332f22f98ff776b3d22391e10156ad56d7a1a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251017111016_e4cd988ca915ddd283a86d48fac332f22f98ff776b3d22391e10156ad56d7a1a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1389" height="863" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal"> </figure>  I have spent the last two years <a href="https://youtu.be/256YQa37Ol8?si=Sv1wQ8EdvgMCiTM_" target="_blank">reviewing</a> many of these EVs. The days of batter-powered cars being small toy cars, with sub-par build quality and the range of golf carts have long gone.&nbsp; Fit and finishing in both Chinese and Indian EVs are comparable to established brand names even in Japanese and European markets. But most significantly for us in Nepal, battery technology and range have made inter-city travel on our highways imaginable. The media sometimes portrays Nepal as a prime testing/dumping ground for EVs due to lack of regulation and the proximity to the world’s largest EV exporter (China) and our tough geographical conditions. That is just a part of the story. What actually stands out is the incredible appetite for risk among Nepali buyers.&nbsp; Since the Covid pandemic charging infrastructure has spread across the country. My early trips between Kathmandu and Pokhara saw the possibility of topping up with just one charging gun at the <a href="https://rsr.com.np/" target="_blank">Riverside Springs Resort in Kurintar</a> – and I would have to wait in line, or the charger simply would not be working.&nbsp; These days, by the time I cross Kurintar from Koteswor in my Kona, I will have passed at least 10 charging stations with multiple guns. &nbsp; On my <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">YouTube reviews</a>, people from across the globe ask about range and handling EVs on poor road conditions like ours. The occasional skeptics also leave comments like: ‘If this works in the higher altitudes and mountainous roads of Nepal, then it should be a breeze down here in the flats of Australia and/or hills around Auckland!’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111016_8b4fbe59884538849be6428eb2ce9249627a8970ed9ef4cd3c792682bf26dbed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251017111016_8b4fbe59884538849be6428eb2ce9249627a8970ed9ef4cd3c792682bf26dbed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1139" height="787" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal"> </figure>  SATURATION? However, both the NAIMA and NADA auto show also confirmed that we could be hitting a peak EV. From having just one car in one budget segment, there are now multiple alternatives stretching from the entry of below Rs3 million to the premium and high-end Rs 10 million price point.&nbsp; Furthermore, the price wars on EVs that started in China a year ago have also trickled across to Nepal. Models such as the <a href="https://youtu.be/3wFN2I81Tq0?si=T6L4SAfRpoyNNvYC" target="_blank">MG S5</a>, Nammi Vigo, BYD Atto 2 (and 1) and <a href="https://youtu.be/y214kWbWTc4?si=bIevanDZEPQdkEs4" target="_blank">Deepal S05</a> saw aggressive pricing schemes and discounts that disrupted pre-existing quotas. Consumers can suddenly afford a lot more cars, and travel a lot further for a considerably smaller price tag.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_276afec1bdbd37497572939a4eada4bef74c9d075cd5851892c4dd1985edb9c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2025101711108_276afec1bdbd37497572939a4eada4bef74c9d075cd5851892c4dd1985edb9c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1953" height="1107" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  However, booking numbers at both auto shows did not necessarily translate into actual deliveries. The fact remains that almost 80% of registered vehicles in Nepal are still two-wheelers, and GDP per capita stands at just $1500 — among the lowest in the world.&nbsp; This means that early first-adopters are first-time buyers, and the remaining customers in the market are more skeptical and less willing. But there are also those that are unlikely to consider the EV suitable to travel to off-road rural areas. For the average Nepali family, upgrading or purchasing a new car is no small decision. It happens in five years or more with resale values being a big determinant. The EV boom may be reaching saturation.&nbsp; Both NADA and NAIMA shows drove home the message that Nepal’s transport sector is on an electric fast-track, but the road ahead will be bumpy.&nbsp; Soon after the shows, the glacial debris flow on the Bhote Kosi knocked out the Rasuwa-Kerung border with China, and earlier landslides had already blocked the Koradi checkpoint. Manufacturers are now using the less convenient Korala border in Mustang. BYD, Leapmotor and Omoda &amp; Jaecoo have begun rerouting their vehicles to make up for delivery deadlines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101711108_62fd70a476656062005959c247b38178d8efabf8570c73929295c0a103ff4013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2025101711108_62fd70a476656062005959c247b38178d8efabf8570c73929295c0a103ff4013" data-rendition-name="original" width="1438" height="1031" loading="lazy" alt="Electric cars in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Although the distance from the capital to the Korala border (470km) is four times longer than from Rasuwa (128km) &nbsp;and Tatopani (112km), it is still considered faster and more cost effective than shipping via India using sea routes.&nbsp; And then Nepal was engulfed in turmoil after the youth-led protests of 8-9 September and its aftermath. Many automobile showrooms around Thapathali including Tata, Hyundai and CG were vandalised and torched.&nbsp; Sushila Karki leads a caretaker government till elections are held in March, and the unsettled situation will affect the economy and investment climate as well as the automobile sector. Arnav Upadhyay reviews automobiles and promotes road safety under the handle Casually Annoyed Driver on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">Youtube</a>, <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@casuallyannoyeddriver" target="_blank">Tiktok</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/casuallyannoyeddriver/" target="_blank">IG</a>, and this monthly column Drive Line in Nepali Times.

Is Nepal reaching peak EV?

While the streets of Kathmandu were erupting violent GenZ protests that brought down the government, Nepal’s athletes were achieving different kinds of breakthroughs on Spain’s mountain trails and in the cricket qualifiers in the UAE.&nbsp; On 27 September, two weeks after the uprising back home, Nepal's cricket team stunned the sporting world with their first-ever victory against a full member nation — defeating two-time World Cup champions West Indies by 19 runs, then crushing them by 90 runs two days later to seal a historic 2-0 series victory. On that very day, 5,000km away in the Spanish Pyrenees Sunmaya Budha stood on a podium alongside American and European champions, clutching a silver medal from the 3rd World Mountain and Trail Running Championships. No Asian athlete had ever finished this high in the Long Trail competition at the World Championships. While youth back home showed they would not tolerate injustice and could carve their own future, young Nepalis were securing it on the global sports stage even in moments of national crisis.&nbsp; The Long Trail event at the 2025 World Championships was designed to break even the strongest athletes. Stretching 82km through the Spanish Pyrenees, the course features an unrelenting 5,413m of elevation gain and descent.&nbsp; Athletes faced everything from steep scree slopes to narrow ridge lines, from boulder fields requiring scrambling to precipitous descents demanding total concentration. One misstep could mean injury, one lapse in focus could cost precious minutes.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_81152b4754331c4858ed2d0d28204e6a92559faf089fea9ebc84156766ff228a.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025101909108_81152b4754331c4858ed2d0d28204e6a92559faf089fea9ebc84156766ff228a" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="731" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>The Nepal team at the World Championships 2025 with the final four: Sangge Sherpa, Sunmaya Budha, Suman Kulung, Man Kumar Roka Magar. Photo: PREETI KHATTRI</figcaption> </figure>  WOMEN'S COMPETITION Katie Schide (USA) - Winner • Time: 9:57:59 • Average pace: 7:18 per km&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sunmaya.budha.942">Sunmaya Budha </a>(Nepal) - Silver Medal • Time: 10:23:03 • Gap behind winner: 25 minutes and 4 seconds • Average pace: 7:36 per km Most recreational trail runners need 18-24 hours to complete this course, if they can finish it at all. Budha's pace means she was running at a speed that most casual runners could not maintain on a flat course, let alone while constantly climbing and descending mountains. MEN'S COMPETITION Jim Walmsley (USA) - Winner • Time: 8:35:11 • Average pace: 6:17 per kilometer (10:07 per mile) &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/runnersumankulung">Suman Kulung (Nepal)</a> - 32nd Place • Time: 10:06:25 • Average pace: 7:24 per km • Finished 1 hour 31 minutes behind the winner • Best performance by an Asian male athlete &nbsp; <a href="https://www.facebook.com/rokamagarmankumar764">Man Kumar Roka Magar (Nepal)</a> - 37th Place • Time: 10:10:53 • Average pace: 7:27 per km • Finished just 4.5 minutes behind Kulung <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Yetimannnnn">Sangge Sherpa (Nepal)</a> - 116th Place • Time: 12:33:09 • Average pace: 9:11 per km  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_2255845b43e68b14d3b111099124f9c98898bbe9016299b9af278aca8b4377f7.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025101909108_2255845b43e68b14d3b111099124f9c98898bbe9016299b9af278aca8b4377f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="977" height="904" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Sangge Sherpa organising himself post gear check in Can-Franc.</figcaption> </figure>  The men's winner averaged about 6:17/km on a course where elite mountain runners were struggling. Kulung and Roka Magar maintained a 7:24-7:27/km pace—faster than many recreational runners' easy flat road pace. They were faster than dozens of European athletes who train in the Alps. Even Sherpa's 9:11/km average pace over 12+ hours represents an extraordinary feat of endurance, maintaining forward progress on some of the most challenging mountain terrain in competitive trail running. “What set Budha apart was her exceptional descending ability. She recorded the fastest downhill speed among all women in the competition—a skill honed through years of training on Nepal’s steep mountain trails,” said her team director Ryan S Blair.&nbsp; Sunmaya Budha, ranked world 8th for 100km category events and 17th in the world by the International Trail Running Association (ITRA), entered the race having recently recovered from injuries to both legs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_38d8bee04beaa6443480ecf4765e6b34f91d2d105128f292f73702072a820d25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025101909108_38d8bee04beaa6443480ecf4765e6b34f91d2d105128f292f73702072a820d25" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Sunmaya storming in 2nd position. Photo: WMTRC2025 CANFRAC </figcaption> </figure>  While American Katie Schide dominated from the front, Budha found herself in an intense battle for second place with Italy's Fabiola Conti, a specialised skyrace and mountain marathon runner. The two runners remained locked together through much of the course, running side-by-side at key checkpoints and pushing each other through the mountain wilderness. In ultra-trail racing, where climbs are often win by fractions of minutes, the ability to descend fearlessly and efficiently can make the difference between podium positions. Budha's technical prowess on the descents gave her a advantage over her European competitors. The decisive moment came in the final 20km. At the 65km mark, Budha held a 90-second lead over Conti. By 71.5km she had extended her advantage to eight minutes — a commanding gap she maintained to the finish. In a powerful display of national pride, she approached the finish wrapped in the Nepali flag, showing the world what Himalayan athletes can achieve on the global stage. Said Preeti Khattri, team lead for Nepal: "Standing right beside the USA and European peer. Proud. No Asian athletes have ever made it this far.” MEN, TOO While Budha captured headlines with her silver medal, the performances of Suman Kulung and Man Kumar Roka Magar were equally significant. Both athletes topped Asian athletes and numerous European competitors. Suman Kulung delivered a performance that demonstrated extraordinary mental toughness and racing intelligence. What makes his 32nd place finish even more impressive is that 1.5km he encountered a severe bottleneck on narrow technical trails.&nbsp; This critical delay pushed him back to around 92nd position—a devastating setback in a world championship race where every second counts. Many athletes would have been demoralised by such an early disaster.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025101909108_e2f358723ea8abaa262e749a4c6afb0a179cf9f3e0bb4eab1d973e25b9b00f09.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025101909108_e2f358723ea8abaa262e749a4c6afb0a179cf9f3e0bb4eab1d973e25b9b00f09" data-rendition-name="original" width="668" height="445" loading="lazy" alt="World Mountain and Trail Running Championships"> <figcaption>Suman Kulung coming through 65km Assisted Checkpoint. Photo: DR SIGRID FOUNDATION</figcaption> </figure>  But Kulung showed why he is Nepal's top-ranked trail runner: he launched a spectacular comeback. By the 30km mark, he had charged through the field to reach approximately 20th position — recovering over 70 places in less than 30km.&nbsp; His final time of 10:06:25 placed him ahead of runners from traditional mountain running powers including Switzerland, Austria, and Germany, and was the highest-finishing Asian male athlete in the competition.

Nepali runners score breakthroughs

Edmund Hillary once said that the Sherpa were the most researched, dissected and blood-taken ethnic group in the world. Living below the highest mountains in the world, the trans-Himalayan traders were genetically adapted to high altitude, their culture spanning both sides of the border, and with average per capita income of the Khumbu five times that of the rest of Nepal. But there are other less-known Sherpas in Nepal’s periphery: in the Langtang, Barun and Rolwaling valleys.&nbsp; Norwegian mountaineer Jon Gangdal’s latest book, Guilt &amp; Glory: Climbing with Sherpas is about his deep personal and four-decade long association with his climbing partners from Rolwaling. Guilt &amp; Glory reads more like Gangdal’s memoir and the mountains he has climbed, but it is also a tribute to the selfless friendship with fellow climbers from Nepal. It also exposes the inherently asymmetric relationship between expeditions and their employees in the Himalaya. Earlier mountaineering narratives overlooked the role of Nepal’s climbing guides in putting their clients on summits. But in recent years there has been increasing recognition that most expeditions would just not be possible without them. SUMMIT SUPPORT And that is where Gangdal’s book fits in: between the glory of a successful summit and guilt about not giving due credit to the sacrifice and professionalism of a people whose surname and ethnicity is now a synonym for support staff of G-7 Summits. After failure and tragedy on a 1994 expedition on Everest West Ridge in which his climbing partner Mingma Norbu was killed in an avalanche, Gangdal is tormented by guilt and supports his widow Ang Sona and her family. ‘The Art of Succeeding When You Have Failed’ was the title of his lecture series in which Gangdal became an outspoken critic of military-style assaults on Himalayan peaks, and self-seeking climbers on them. In a comment he wrote for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/everest-dangerous-place-to-work,1316" target="_blank">Nepali Times in #704 in 2014 </a>after an avalanche killed 16 Nepali guides on the Khumbu Icefall, he argued that equality and safety of climbing Sherpas could only happen ‘if we turn the whole Everest pyramid upside down’. He wrote: ‘We can feel nothing but grief and pain with the families of the brave boys who gave their lives for … for what? For the glory of their nation, like at war? For the glory of their attention-seeking sahibs who have had the highest mountains in the world as their playground for more than a century? Or for what we all have to do: our daily duty to feed ourselves and our families.’ Guilt &amp; Glory expands on that theme, weaving in his climbing adventures. He realises that the egalitarian Norwegian approach in decision-making does not work in the East’ where the prevalent notion is that a leader should lead. Gangdal notes that with a few tweaks, the twain of East and West can indeed meet. In 1996 on the north face of Everest while a major tragedy was unfolding on the Nepal side, Gangdal tries to ‘play Sherpa’ hauling twice the load of his Sherpa companions and is knocked out with exhaustion and has to abandon the climb. Climbers have often justified not helping fellow climbers in distress in the Death Zone saying that ethics at sea level do not apply at eight thousand metres high on a mountain. But Gangdal quotes expedition doctor Morten Rostrup: ‘When you pass climbers who are sick or in danger on the way to the summit, you should always do something … continuing to the summit shows a lack of humanity.’ Foreign climbers are on top of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and in a monastery below Manaslu, Gangdal once held a long one-sided discussion with the abbott on why people’s basic needs need to be met before higher aspirations can be pursued. The asymmetry in the relation between sahibs and porters is less glaring than it used to be. Many mountaineers have struck life-long friendships with bonds with their employees and their families in Nepal. And, as Gangdal writes, ‘Education … has helped reduce the asymmetry between the Sherpa people and us foreign climbers.’ Unlike other books about Himalayan mountaineering &nbsp;this one focuses on the Rolwaling, the less visited and wilder valley in the shadow of Gauri Shankar, and protected by the goddess Tseringma.&nbsp; Noted Rolwaling Sherpas include Chhiring Dorje who made the heroic rescue on K2 in 2008, Dawa Yangzum, the first Nepali woman to summit all 14 eight-thousanders, Tamting Sherpa who has also climbed all 8,000m peaks, TGemba Tsheri who became the youngest person to climb Everst at age 16 in 2001. <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/power-of-the-periphery/deep-ecologists/75228182BC490F8AC31C8E4C8335F435" target="_blank">Rolwaling also has a strong Norwegian connection</a>, it is where <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2009/jan/15/obituary-arne-naess" target="_blank">Arne Næss</a> who coined the term ‘deep ecology’, and mountaineer and eco-philosopher <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/norway-nepal-a-love-story" target="_blank">Sigmund Kvaløy</a> did their research and exploration in 1971.&nbsp; There is one interesting tidbit with contemporary non-mountaineering relevance from Guilt &amp; Glory: Næss and Kvaløy’s Rowaling research was bankrolled by Arne’s brother Erling Dekke Næss, a Norwegian shipping magnate. But Rolwaling was a restricted area in those days because of Khampa activity, and the Norwegians approached Prince Gyanendra who granted them permission in return for setting up the Royal Nepal Shipping Corporation. Gyanendra became chair of that controversial company and Erling Næss was adviser. Guilt &amp; Glory is not just about mountaineering, and is sprinkled with anecdotes and encounters with everything from Maoists to yetis. It is written with compassion and a deep respect for Nepal and its people.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251017111028_3fd1da00a1362a6c3f07807ec55b9e5d9163c11fb759aa09530a5ea486751d24" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Guilt &amp; Glory book"> </figure>

West meets East in the Himalaya

In 2004, Poet Durga Lal Shrestha asked me to translate 223 little poems from Newa into English. They were each written as sestet-- terse in their form but heavy in imagery and sentiment. The novice translator in me struggled to find the best way to convey his poetry in English-- but the process became a tour as I discovered my mother tongue anew. The highlight, however, was Shrestha’s handwriting. His calligraphy is immaculate. He had given me photocopies from the notebook he had written the poems in and each page looked as though they were freshly out of the press. The letters bore a consistency, unswayed by the emotions of his poetry. Sometimes, I would just stare at the handwriting in admiration.&nbsp; Someone else had been similarly besotted by his writing: “I met him 25 years ago in the UK when he was the chief guest at a Mha Puja event organised by Pasa Pucha,” recollects Ojesh Singh, writer and engineer. “We were roommates. I noticed he couldn’t stop writing.”&nbsp; Shrestha, an octogenarian now, was a teacher at Kanya Mandir School for many years, where his writing was admired by colleagues and students. Known as Janakavi or People’s Poet, a title bestowed on him by the Nepal Bhasha Parishad, Shrestha is also the recipient of the Jagadamba Shree Puraskar for his contribution to literature.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> <figcaption>From left to right: Suman Shrestha, Ananda Kumar Maharjan, Durga Lal Shrestha, Ojesh Singh, and Arbindra Man Singh. Photo: SUCHITA SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  “He would write on anything he could lay his hands on. On tissue paper, envelopes, cigarette boxes. It struck me how neat and tidy his writing was,” says Singh. “The structure and size were perfectly in sync-- and as an aspiring graphic designer then, I fell in love with his writing. Later, whenever I read his books, I thought it would be nice to read them in his writing.” After sitting with the notion of turning Shrestha’s writing into a digital font for years, in 2024, he reached out to a small group of people who he thought might be allies.&nbsp; “It was during Ojesh Ji’s book launch that we met and talked about the possibility of turning Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing into font,” recalls Ananda Kumar Maharjan, who has designed the Durga Lal Shrestha font and is affiliated with Callijatra, an organisation promoting Newa calligraphy.&nbsp; For Singh, the desire to immortalise the poet's handwriting wasn’t only coming from personal admiration, it was also about preserving the writing of a language and literature leader and activist. He offered to fund the font project, which meant paying for Maharjan’s time and dedication. He also drew into the conversation Shrestha’s son Suman, who has been an integral part of the process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374" data-rendition-name="original" width="616" height="728" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  The others involved in the process were journalist Arbindra Man Singh, who had been scanning Shrestha’s writing for the book Hastakshar, a collection of poems printed in the author’s handwriting. Also an enthusiast of converting Shrestha’s writing to a font, Singh provided help in bringing together the scans, based on which Maharjan picked the best letter for each alphabet to create a complete set.&nbsp; “Doing this was different from other font developments I have done in the past,” explains Maharjan, who has also digitised his own handwriting into a font, called Anand. “To create Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing as font, I had to analyse his writing archive and pick the best.”&nbsp; He adds: “There was a book published in his writing, so there were scans and digital archiving done by Arbindra Ji, which became the foundation for my work.” He had to find a prototype for each alphabet based on the scans. He traced the letters on Illustrator and copied them to a MAC software called Glyphs where he had to enter each letter, using a traditional Devanagari keyboard instead of Unicode.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb" data-rendition-name="original" width="818" height="766" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  “I had to be very careful to keep it accurate. Conjunctions need attention,” Maharjan says. “There are half letters, saint letters, ligatures and open type features to pay attention to, this is more advanced than the fonts I’ve created in the past.” &nbsp; Maharjan has designed this font in three different variations that users can play with. “Writing changes with age. While young, people write better, but with age, it starts to change. Since Durga Lal Shrestha hasn’t been very well lately, his hand shakes when he writes. So, we had to pick the best of his writing from the records,” he adds. “People also tend to write in different styles depending on their mood so we took the best four of every letter and traced and picked one.”&nbsp; Handwriting is deeply intimate and in this day and age of tech, becoming lost.&nbsp; What bothers me about the day of phones is that I no longer know what the writing of those close to me look like. I no longer know how you press the pen between our fingers or how you tilt it against the paper or how you pause to write periods or how the nib makes a perfect tiny orb before you drag it just so, to turn it into a comma. The familiarity of the nuances of someone’s writing is lost on us.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654" data-rendition-name="original" width="992" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  Ojesh Singh agrees with me. He says it’s important to keep handwriting alive as people become more and more tech-dependent. People are likely to interact even less with letters on paper, but at least we can have fonts, he says.&nbsp; A set of six books by poet Durga Lal Shrestha is set to be launched on 31October. One of them, entitled, Kawa, is typeset in the Durga Lal Shrestha Font. The font will be made available to the general public after the books have been released. In July, I had visited Shrestha, who I also call Durga Lal Taaba, as many Newa people in my generation do. Seated in the quiet of his home, he conversed about literature and language with my father and my uncle. Coming out of Taaba, Newa, which has a utilitarian function for me to communicate with my parents, sounded more like a lyric.&nbsp; I asked him what he thinks about his handwriting being archived as a font. He replied: “This body is going to be gone eventually, so I thought maybe my handwriting could live on.” Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people in Pratibha’s life.

masked-dance

Kathmandu Valley’s Nil Barahi Dyo Pyakhan

The spirit that is fire

Is Nepal reaching peak EV?

Nepali runners score breakthroughs

West meets East in the Himalaya

Digitising the savant calligrapher