<figure><img width="1623" height="741" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba65c9c7e80680e073717jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>+ When <a href="1)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-kathmandu-airlift-begins/">Kalim Miya in the UAE and Bhumika in Kuwait</a> found themselves stranded abroad after the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic, they took to social media via Facebook Live videos to seek help. Both of them are back in their villages in Nepal now, and attribute the early repatriation to their online outreach that drew them widespread attention.+ The Nepal Embassy in Malaysia holds <a href="2)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/preparing-for-nepals-returnees/">weekly Facebook sessions</a> with updates and answers to questions which are viewed by hundreds of thousands of Nepali migrants in the country.+When a video of a <a href="3)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-guard-beaten-in-malaysia-goes-viral/">Nepali security guard getting beaten up mercilessly</a> by his supervisor in Malaysia went viral earlier this month, it drew attention of the Malaysian authorities, even though similar cases happen on a daily basis and go unnoticed.+ Soon <a href="4)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-caught-up-in-beirut-blast-recount-horror/">after the explosion in Beirut, Nepalis based in Lebanon</a> were quick to inform their families and each other about their safety via social media.These are just a few of recent examples where social media has played a key role in spotlighting stories of Nepali migrant communities and their families cope with this unprecedented global crisis. On the one hand, the pandemic demands isolation but on the other the Internet offers connectedness across borders.“It barely feels like we are abroad these days because we are in such close contact with frequent real-time updates,” says Yubraj, who is working in Qatar and the son of Kuma Bahadur, a 60-year-old returnee who had himself worked in Saudi Arabia in the 1990s.Yubaraj recalls growing up and writing letters to his father in longhand and mailing it by post. It would sometimes take months to get a reply.  <figure><img width="200" height="269" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6609c7e80680e073718jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="606" height="870" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6619c7e80680e073719jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“My father tried to write at least once a month. I remember he used to be very curious about tiny  details about the condition of our farm and the livestock,” Yubaraj says. “He did not share much about his life in Saudi Arabia.”Perhaps Yubaraj’s father had nothing to say about Saudi Arabia because he never got to see much of the country. He was brought straight from the airport to the majara farm where he worked, and after a few years he was taken right back to the airport to fly back to Nepal.Yubaraj’s letters to his father were mainly messages from his younger siblings, trivia from the neighbourhood, whose water buffalo gave birth, the harvest, and updates about his studies.“There wasn’t anything new or exciting to share about our lives, and the letters were more to keep him connected to home, and to let him know we missed him,” adds Yubaraj, who went to the local post office every two weeks to see if there was a letter from his father. He used to get anxious if there was no letter for over a month.Three years after Kum Bahadur left for Saudi Arabia in the 1990s, the village got its first landline phone. One day the didi from the shop rushed to Yubaraj’s house to say there was a call. My grand-aunt spoke to my father first and broke down when she heard his voice for the first time in years.“It was an emotional moment,” Yubraj says, adding that the calls were expensive. “Phone calls were short and rare, it was just to hear each others’ voices. The details were in our letters.”Years later, in 2007, it was Yubraj’s turn to seek his fortune in Qatar. By this time, there was already a landline in his house, but calls were still expensive. So, he still wrote letters to his father, but this time their roles were reversed – his father was in Nepal and he was abroad.“I still remember the first letter I wrote to my family from Qatar,” remembers Yubraj. “I told them about my struggles in the desert heat and the stark contrast with the cool air of Lamjung. I also described to them showers did not help cool off because the water was warm no matter which knob I used.”He tried to sound positive in his letters, just like his father, so his family would not worry too much. But he also wrote to them that he could have achieved more in Nepal itself, had he been willing to work as hard as he did in Qatar. One day, Yubaraj saw his manager get a new Nokia 6300, but it took him two years to be able to save enough to afford one so he could stay in touch with his family.   <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6639c7e80680e07371ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kum Bahadur used to farm in a majara in Saudi Arabia, growing watermelon and camel fodder. He had never understood what a majara was until he visited Nepalis toiling in a farm in the desert.He says: “It brought tears to my eyes, thinking about how hard my father had to struggle in Saudi Arabia. We have it much easier now. At least we are in close touch.”***In his 24 years in Qatar, Kareem Bakhsh Miya has seen how advances in communication technology have changed the way migrant workers communicate with families back home.“We used to send letters or cassettes with 60 minute voice recordings to our family members,” he recalls. “I even had pen-friends all over Nepal to whom I wrote frequently. I spent a lot on postage because my letters were so heavy. As a loyal customer, the post office rewarded my family so they were able to send six months of letters for free.” <figure><img width="640" height="492" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6659c7e80680e07371bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Phone calls were not that frequent, and the closest shop with a landline was 22km from his house in Tanahun. Miya’s family had to be notified by the shopkeeper via messengers, including drivers of mini-buses or shoppers, about the day and time when they had to come to the shop for the next call.“The calls were very expensive, and I had to make chit-chat with the shopkeeper to return the favour,” says Miya, adding that a call usually meant there was some kind of emergency. Finally, Miya was able to send home a mobile phone in 2007, after which they could call more often.“Look how times have changed,” he says, “it is more expensive to send letters now than to make video calls.”*** <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6689c7e80680e07371cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tilu Sharma, who also spent 16 years in Qatar used to send detailed instructions to his family about how to call someone from his labour camp who had a mobile.“We dreaded calls. For me and other Nepalis in the camp, we knew that if there was a call from home, it usually meant bad news.” <figure><img width="610" height="368" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66a9c7e80680e07371djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tilu did not write too many letters home, but when he did, he made sure he sent regards and remembrances to  everyone in the community, without leaving anyone out. He also knew that the letter would be read and re-read aloud many times, so it was a public document and had to be simple and legible.“You didn’t just write to your parents and siblings, the letter had to include your neighbors and extended family out of respect,” recalls Tilu, who used to send letters with other Nepalis going home.*** <img width="593" height="1024" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66c9c7e80680e07371ejpeg.jpg" alt="">Om Thapa was in the UAE from 2001-2005 and Saudi Arabia from 2007-2016 and received the first photos of his newborn daughter by mail in the UAE. “I only got to see her for the first time when she was three. I missed a lot of her early years growing up,” says Om.Om still remembers the rush of excitement when a colleague used to walk in with a pile of envelopes, and call out the names of recipients. “There is nothing like the depth of words and emotion exchanged via letters with my wife in those days, they felt like actual conversations,” he remembers.When his second child was born, Om was working in Saudi Arabia. But by this time there was social media, so he felt more connected because of Facebook.Pictured left, Om Thapa in the UAE in 2001.*** <figure><img width="2212" height="1638" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66f9c7e80680e07371fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bishnu, a seasoned migrant has worked in Malaysia for the past 20 years, and seen the Nepali migrant population grow rapidly since then. He remembers how the Kuala Lumpur neighbourhood of Kotaraya evolved to be ‘Little Nepal’ because Nepalis hung out there on their days off to meet in Nepali restaurants.  “Before Facebook and phones, this is where we came hoping to meet friends and exchange news from home. We received or sent letters home through acquaintances. It was also a spot to find out if there are newcomers from our villages which was always very exciting,” Bishnu remembers. “Now we have all the news from home and information about Nepal through social media.”But Bishnu misses the old days: “There was beauty in the simplicity and longing in receiving hand-written letters, meeting someone unexpectedly from your village, or the monthly phone calls that we eagerly waited for.”

Upasana Khadka

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From letters to landlines, phones to Facebook

The monsoon has got bad press because Nepal’s tourism operators actively told visitors to avoid <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/managing-the-monsoon?%2F">the rainy season</a>. It is time to change that. The reason can be found right here in the vast alpine meadows of Central Nepal where this time of year you can walk on velvet grass of pastures abloom with delicate pink, red and yellow flowers as the mist rolls up the valley. There is no sound except the hum of bumble bees. &nbsp;&nbsp; There are dozens of places across high Nepal called Chaurikharka, which means yak pasture. But this particular Chaurikharka in Rukum East located at an altitude of 4,000m stands out for its serene beauty, rustic charm and bucolic setting. There is just the occasional chime of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">yak bells</a> in the distance, and the sharp whistle of herders corralling sheep. &nbsp;&nbsp; The grass shoots are so fragile that one hesitates to step on them, the rounded ridges appear and quickly vanish in waves of mist. With the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon"> arrival of monsoon</a>, these meadows are a soothing shade of green dotted with millions of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-anatomy-of-a-flower?%2F=">multi-coloured flowers</a>. Until very recently, it took a week or so to hike up to places like Chaurikharka, but with the expansion of the road network even to these far-flung mountains in the lap of Dhaulagiri, they are much more accessible. It is just a three-hour uphill from the Mid-Hill Highway on the border between Baglung and Rukum East.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250802130828_a0b06b494d751b2144ffbbf10894ea64b29e8aed844bc8c66171783abfaf4e16.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250802130828_a0b06b494d751b2144ffbbf10894ea64b29e8aed844bc8c66171783abfaf4e16" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon"> </figure>  Purists would say that such easy access devalues the sanctity of these remote high meadows, but it also means more people will be moved to treasure the experience, appreciate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/natures-fragile-gift-to-nepal">the value of nature </a>so they can take steps to protect it.&nbsp; To be sure, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/deadly-monsoon-in-nepal-turns-deadlier">monsoon season can be challenging for road travel</a>. The roads are rough even at the best of times, and in the monsoon they become muddy and treacherous, often blocked by<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/monsoon-deluge-in-nepal"> landslides</a>. But that could be precisely the kind of adventure that the more intrepid visitors crave. Improved road connectivity has already made Chaurikharka and places like Badimallika &nbsp;and other sacred lakes in the mountains of western Nepal popular with domestic tourists. What is driving this traffic is the urge to go to exotic new places and share videos and selfies on social media. Several of Nepal’s travel vloggers have visited Chaurikharka and popularised the place, enticing followers on TikTok or YouTube to retrace their footsteps. But even as they become more popular, these fragile and once-remote places should be protected from over-tourism.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110736_f97110b7cdc3e7f80d5877690948fc9f4c95a09c583deb23b07355491e6c5446.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250731110736_f97110b7cdc3e7f80d5877690948fc9f4c95a09c583deb23b07355491e6c5446" data-rendition-name="original" width="1083" height="699" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon NT"> </figure>  <h2>INCREASING FOOTFALL</h2> Chaurikharka is located in Bhume Rural Municipality of East Rukum, near the scenic valley of Dhorpatan in Baglung district. Even in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/monsoon-culture">middle of the monsoon</a>, there is a steady stream of Nepali hikers trooping to these high pastures – especially during festival days like Saune Sankranti which this year was on 17 July and actually marks the auspicious beginning of the monsoon here. “This year the rains have not been as heavy and there have been some clear mornings when we could see everything from Dhaulagiri to Machapuchre,” says Khageswar Bhandari, who trekked up here from the road. “The flowers, the greenery and the snowy mountain views make this an incredibly unique place.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250802130824_1b9e26f2e9853fdfe69154bb42a7c9ea6da4bf4940efc1da99b304dcfbd7d3d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250802130824_1b9e26f2e9853fdfe69154bb42a7c9ea6da4bf4940efc1da99b304dcfbd7d3d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1152" loading="lazy" alt="Visit Nepal in the monsoon"> </figure>  Chaurikharka is worthwhile to get to in any season, but it has a different charm during the monsoon. Word has spread and because it is now easy to get to from Baglung or even Pokhara, people have been flocking here.&nbsp; “Holidays and Saturdays see the largest crowds, with up to 500 visitors every day,” says ward chair Mankaji Pun of Bhume.&nbsp; There was a time not too long ago when local herders brought sheep, goats, cows, buffaloes, horses, and mules to graze here during the monsoon. Although there are still livestock around, animals have been replaced by visitors taking selfies. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-monsoon-and-nature-s-arithmetic">The monsoon, and nature’s arithmetic</a>, Tom Robertson Ward Chair Pun says infrastructure development is his main priority. A foot trail to Chaurikharka was built last year by the Tourism Division Office in Kohalpur, but access via the Raniwas-Koipa road section still remains challenging.&nbsp; “If we get more budget, we can improve the road and facilities to make Chaurikharka the main tourist attraction of this region,” says Bhume Municipality Chair Hom Prakash Shrestha. “After that, we hope to promote Chaurikharka as a top tourist spot.”&nbsp; Economic activity is also picking up with the arrival of visitors, but there seems to be a need to manage the makeshift sheds made of corrugated sheets that spoil the beauty of the place. Tea shops and lodges are also available but facilities are basic. Kuldeep Neupane took a three-day trip from Ghorahi in Dang to visit Chaurikharka recently, and says: “This is an ideal trip to make a quick getaway and let nature recharge your mind and body. And it is much more fun with a tent, to watch the sunrise over the Himalaya or the mist blowing in.”

Visit Nepal in the monsoon

Two weeks ago, Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli announced jubilantly on social media that Nepal had achieved a historic annual growth of 81.8% in exports. He was right. Nepal’s trade did take a great leap forward compared to last year. But the dramatic rise was mainly due to processed soya bean oil.&nbsp; However, Nepal does not produce the edible oil it exports. In fact, the soya and palm oil that make up 44% of total exports are imported from Southeast Asia and South America, and simply re-exported, mostly to India.&nbsp; Under the SAFTA (South Asian Free Trade Area) Agreement, Nepal can export products to India duty-free if it has at least 30% value-added. Nepal’s traders have taken advantage of SAFTA even though the edible oils they export do not reach that value addition threshold. “The 30% value addition requirement is often only on paper,” says former commerce secretary Purushottam Ojha. “It is clear that simply packaging edible oils in Nepal does not fulfil the terms of the trade agreement.” Prime Minister Oli is aware of this, and even called Nepal’s export figures “fake” at an earlier event. The government is relying on other iffy figures to suggest that Nepal’s economy is strong and getting stronger. For example, the value of imports rose by 13.25% in 2024-25 compared to the previous fiscal year.&nbsp; Some of it was due to a jump in electric vehicle imports worth Rs 31.76 billion, but mostly it was because more wholesale soya oil was imported to be re-packaged and sold in India. The very fact that the government boasts about increased imports is an indication of how much it relies on taxing them for revenue. Touting such trade figures cannot be the basis to claim an economic rebound.&nbsp; “A jump in the value of imports can be interpreted as an increase in purchasing power, but it is not evidence of a stronger economy,” says economist Keshav Acharya. “Even though imports have increased, Nepal's domestic production and productive capacity have not improved.” Nepal Rastra Bank's semi-annual economic activity study report shows that industrial production was down in the first six months of the last fiscal year. This despite an increase in the number of new industries registered and investment commitments. Out of the Rs70.2 billion proposed foreign investment, Nepal received only Rs17.9 billion last year.&nbsp; Meanwhile, the rate of capital formation was limited to 24% last year, which is lower than the year before, suggesting that new investment, job creation and economic expansion all declined. If domestic production does not improve in relation to this year’s inflated trade figures, the outflow will put pressure on foreign exchange reserves like it did three years ago. At that time, Nepal borrowed from the IMF under its Extended Credit Facility Program to kickstart the economy.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080710084_2cdaaa5795828c4a7de93a0604ba884ef0a8b8f24cccd939f6c24e279ab6058f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025080710084_2cdaaa5795828c4a7de93a0604ba884ef0a8b8f24cccd939f6c24e279ab6058f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1633" height="723" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's bubble economy NT"> <figcaption>Source: NEPAL RASTRA BANK</figcaption> </figure>  The macroeconomy is on firm footing with foreign exchange reserves at a comfortable Rs2,520 billion in May, up 23% from last year. This was largely due to remittances, and partly due to a falling NPR exchange rate. Real estate transactions and the stock market index have also been climbing as a result of government policies to revive the sector.&nbsp; However, former executive director of Nepal Rastra Bank Nar Bahadur Thapa cautions: “This is not organic growth, it is the result of deliberate policy decisions to relax rules on real estate and stock markets transactions.” In reality, the sharp rise in land prices have increased the cost of production, and excessive monetisation of the real estate has become the main source of Nepal’s economic woes. The central bank has announced a slew of new policies, shifting the terms of loan repayment for industrialists and entrepreneurs, reducing interest rates, and injecting more working capital — all designed to inject adrenaline into the real estate and stock market sectors.&nbsp; When he was governor, Mahaprasad Adhikari made several financial reforms during the latter half of his tenure to stimulate the economy, including tightening credit flow.&nbsp; By the last fiscal year, additional financial reforms had resulted in a credit expansion rate of around 8%. As the pace of credit expansion slows, real estate prices have started to fall. This is actually beneficial to the economy, because it lays the foundation for improvements in land-related entrepreneurship, production, and the construction sector. Just because real estate and the stock market transactions increase, it does not indicate an economic turnaround — especially when manufacturing and productive sector continues to languish.&nbsp; “It is foolish to believe that real estate and the stock market have magically revived our economy. Agriculture employs more than half of the population, but it is in decline. Investment in the productive sector has not increased, and job creation has not increased.” Two years ago, Nepal’s industrialists, business leaders, and political leadership predicted a recession amidst a sluggish business, declining market demand, large-scale job loss, and a shrinking real estate and share market.&nbsp; Still, the economy grew by 3.36% in fiscal year 2023/24. In fact, Nepal’s economy has grown nominally over the last two decades even when all sectors of the economy are in decline.&nbsp; Says Keshav Acharya: “The growth in trade, real estate, and the stock market are bubbles. The real economy remains stagnant.”

Nepal’s bubble economy

The final investigation report on the crash of a Saurya Airlines jet on 24 July 2024 at Kathmandu airport has revealed flaws in the carrier’s technical operation procedures, poor monitoring by the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) and gaps in the airport’s emergency response. Eighteen people including a child were killed, and only the captain survived as the plane plunged seconds after takeoff, crashing within the airport perimeter. This was the latest in a series of aircraft accidents in previous years, and further tarnished Nepal’s already poor aviation safety record and contributed to the country being retained in the EU’s air safety list. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The circumstances in the Saurya crash were different from the Yeti Airlines crash in Pokhara in January 2022 that killed all 72 on board, and two Tara Air crashes in February 2016 and May 2022 on approach to Jomsom that together claimed 45 lives. However, all four tragedies were a result of negligence of carriers and crew, failure to follow procedures, regulatory slackness, and overconfidence. The Saurya crash, especially, was a glaring example of how an ailing airline broke its own rules to allow passengers, including non-employees, a joy ride to Pokhara on a maintenance ferry flight. CRASH REPORT The Final Investigation Report prepared by the Aircraft Accident Investigation Commission and released on the first anniversary of the crash last week carried a long list of rules that were ignored or broken, and of regulatory failure. The first mistake was to cram spares, tools and inflammable chemicals needed for the aircraft’s C-Check in Pokhara into the cargo hold flouting its own ground handling procedures.&nbsp; There was no check-in of passengers, some of whom were not even employees – even though regulations say only flight and maintenance crew should be on board a maintenance positioning flight. Many brought their own luggage into the plane and stored it unsecured in the cabin. There was no flight attendant to give a safety briefing to passengers. The load and trim charts given to the flight crew were rough estimates, and the total takeoff weight of the plane was 18,300kg plus or minus 200 kg. That would still have been all right, but there was a glaring mistake in the speedchart Saurya pilots were using to calculate the minimum takeoff speed (known as VR), and it had been wrong ever since the 21-year-old aircraft entered service with the airline in 2017. FAULTY DATA&nbsp; The Commission probed Flight Data Recorder inputs from previous takeoffs of the Canadian-built CRJ200-LR in 2023-2024 and found that the undetected error in the speedchart had caused the plane to pitch up at an abnormal rotation rate at least 18 times on previous takeoffs.&nbsp; Any rotation rate more than 3°/sec is regarded as unusual. But on at least two occasions, this aircraft with tail number 9N-AME had rotation rates of 5.8°/sec and 5.5°/sec, the second one was when the pilot who survived was flying in March 2024.&nbsp; On this particular day, the plane’s rotation rate was 6.5°/sec, causing it to go into a deep stall soon after takeoff, the Commission report said. Essentially, the plane was not flying fast enough down the runway to take off safely.&nbsp; It is not yet clear whether excess weight, unsecured luggage, wrong centre of gravity were also factors, but relying on a faulty speedchart for the given takeoff weight, the captain flying pulled back on the yoke before the plane had reached takeoff speed and at a pitch angle that was too steep. The investigation report says the plane then went into a deep stall and started banking right with the stick shaking. At this point, the flight officer on the right hand seat is heard on the cockpit voice recorder saying: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Sir, Sir, Sir…” It then banked left before the pilot flying turned the plane sharply to the right again in an evasive action to avoid the parking aprons of the international and domestic terminals. Had he not done so, there would have been a disaster of a much greater magnitude at Kathmandu airport that day. The plane scraped the runway with its right wingtip, collided with a container having helicopter spare parts, and plunged into a gully east of the runway, exploding in a fireball. The investigation also noted that the impact forces seemed to be survivable for some occupants. The fire trucks took unnecessarily long to reach the site even though it was inside the airport perimeter. The absence of an ICAO-standard runway strip, inadequate rescue drills, lack of training, and a blocked emergency service gate leading to the crash site were cited as other factors. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Timestamp of a Disaster</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110724_39cdd04693994ce6e55a5b302905c0fa4884fe85bed21ff0779bb1439f3a5725.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250731110724_39cdd04693994ce6e55a5b302905c0fa4884fe85bed21ff0779bb1439f3a5725" data-rendition-name="original" width="778" height="826" loading="lazy" alt="Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy NT"> </figure>  11:10:34 - The Saurya Airlines CRJ200 on the takeoff roll from runway 02. It had a takeoff weight of about 18,300kg, but the pilot’s speedcard had a previously undetected mistake about the minimum takeoff speed. 11:10:55 -The plane with tail number 9N-AME goes into deep stall soon after takeoff because it does not have enough speed to lift its weight. The plane also has an abnormally steep nose-up attitude.&nbsp; 11:11:03 - Without enough speed to generate lift, the plane banks right, then left and right again in CCTV photos taken from the domestic apron (below). If it had not banked right, it could have hit the aprons and terminal buildings. Seen parked is Saurya’s other CRJ200 with tail number 9N-ANM.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110732_608132f7225c649125cca2691dd6a6bf930984c5b359e888d7ad9e5eacce3afd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250731110732_608132f7225c649125cca2691dd6a6bf930984c5b359e888d7ad9e5eacce3afd" data-rendition-name="original" width="770" height="555" loading="lazy" alt="Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy NT"> </figure>  11:11:08 - The plane scrapes the runway with its right wingtip, and falls into the gully. The captain is thrown off the left side of the cockpit and survives. 11:11:15: Plane explodes in a fireball inside the airport perimeter. Firefighters take time to reach the site because of lack of access road and a blocked gate. Read the full investigation report <a href="https://www.tourism.gov.np/files/9N-AME%20AIC%20Final%20Report.pdf">here</a>.

Flouting rules caused Saurya tragedy

American artist Peter Makela was in Nepal in 2022 on a Fulbright scholarship when he experienced the Matya festival in Patan in which devotees made the rounds of the city’s shrines.&nbsp;
He joined the procession, walking through 2,600 stupa and 140 bahal of the town. That immersion left a lasting impression.
As part of Gallery Mcube’s international residency program in Patan, he put his inspiration to canvas in the exhibition Yala Yatra: Walking, Working, Worshipping. The exhibition also coincides with this month’s Matya festival.&nbsp;
Makela has visited Nepal often in the past 11 years but he mostly stayed in and spent his time around Boudha. “This time I stayed in Patan, put the sites I wanted to visit on my map, and off I went,” he tells us. “Each of my artwork is inspired by the stupas and shrines in Patan that I visited.”
The stupa and Ganesh are recurring motifs in his watercolours, and the elephant gods are located in chaityas — reflecting the interplay and blending of the Hindu and Buddhist faiths in Kathmandu Valley.&nbsp;
The stupas and Ganesh are painted in vivid red, yellow, blue and green against abstract backgrounds meant to represent the sky.
“I use the sky as a backdrop because the sky has no border,” says Makela. “The four colours represent the four elements, the different Buddha families and also lights bouncing off of a rainbow.”
The use of just four colours for all the artwork stands out, and combined with the absence of heavy canvases, frames or stands render Makela’s art striking in its simplicity.&nbsp;
The Ganesh is always holding something and the art also portrays the elephant god’s sacred vehicle, the mouse.
While his vibrant stupas and Ganesh reflect the tangibility of Patan’s tradition and heritage, it is as if the backdrops with their shades of grey and red and yellow capture the soul of the city’s shrines.
“If you look closely, there is a sense of form and formlessness at the same time,” he says.&nbsp;
Makela walked 108 kora around the shrines during his exploration of the town, and in the process developed a spiritual connection with Patan’s heritage and traditions.&nbsp;
The exhibition connects with visitors on a deeper, more spiritual, level as well. And with it, they feel a sense of pride as well as the need to urgently preserve Patan’s heritage for future generations.
“Peter’s inclination and approach towards Nepali art and culture is fascinating, and it reflects in his work,” says Mcube curator Manish Lal Shrestha, whose international artist residency program promotes Nepal’s cultural heritage. &nbsp;&nbsp;
Yala Yatra: Walking, Working, Worshipping
1-5 August&nbsp;
10AM-7PM
Gallery Mcube, Patan

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