Through the intricate lattice window on the western facade of the palace must have been from where the Malla kings of Patan looked down at the square below.&nbsp; Today, visitors to Patan Museum can sit at the exact corner and see the same square which, several centuries later, remains largely unchanged. Except for the tourists and devotees at Krishna Mandir and other temples.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_31791a3a564ecaf85ad9e9ee52488bff034a5336f6561a0df2cb6d8e740cacea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240329060316_31791a3a564ecaf85ad9e9ee52488bff034a5336f6561a0df2cb6d8e740cacea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Keshav Narayan Chok. All photos: SUMAN NEPALI(Photo: suman)</figcaption> </figure>  Inside is the best-designed museum in Nepal, the work of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Back-to-Basics-in-Bhaktapur,1377">Götz Hagmüller</a> and his team of architects, who had made Bhaktapur his home and who died in February. Hagmüller did not just restore the old palace, but also designed the museum interior and curated the exhibits. But most importantly, the team ensured that the museum would have an independent governing body that would use revenue from fees and events for the museum’s upkeep. This has given the museum a rare longevity for an institution in Nepal. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-s-legacy-is-goetz-hagmueller-s-legacy">Kathmandu’s legacy is Götz Hagmüller’s legacy</a>, Kunda Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_460c6ade80ae4064d3f761de57b7a004f9b755645db3185366754b1d2ffe82e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240329060316_460c6ade80ae4064d3f761de57b7a004f9b755645db3185366754b1d2ffe82e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> </figure>  The result is more than one of Kathmandu’s most popular destinations for visitors, but a museum that serves an educational function for Nepali students, supplementing what they learn in social studies and history classes in school. The carefully curated bronze, stone and wooden figures span Nepal’s religious faiths, historical periods and geographical zones, providing a striking experience of exploration and learning. Hagmüller led the restoration project of the Keshav Narayan Chok and the dilapidated palace structure, preserving the traditional architecture of the palace while modernising it to suit modern museum necessities. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/learning-from-nepals-past-to-rebuild-its-future/" target="_blank">Learning from Nepal's past to rebuilt its future</a>, Prakriti Kandel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_bfc89739080a1339c9db8a83c7bc332aea37893f6cd9cb506b1a369ac9a68d00.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240329060316_bfc89739080a1339c9db8a83c7bc332aea37893f6cd9cb506b1a369ac9a68d00" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> </figure>  At a time when technology has taken over, and patience to learn through real experiences has decreased, Patan Museum is a space for young students and visitors to learn about Nepal’s glorious past, its culture, and observe intricate Nepali craftsmanship. “Patan Museum is a place of learning regarding two major aspects: heritage and art, specifically relating to Hinduism and Buddhism,” explains Suresh Man Lakhe of Patan Museum. “Students may learn about Buddha’s life in their textbooks, but the museum supplements that learning by letting them visualise his legacy.” &nbsp; Only 200 of the Museum’s expansive collection of 1,100 objects are currently on view, and they are spread across eight themed galleries. Images range from major gods of the Hindu pantheon such as Vishnu, Shiva and Ganesh to benign or fierce representations of Bodhisattvas.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">Preserving Patan post-earthquake</a>, Claire Burket  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_40b0b223afe15566e200ac14f69a527eacc736b040f5b5d982930aa601c51b41.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240329060316_40b0b223afe15566e200ac14f69a527eacc736b040f5b5d982930aa601c51b41" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Dipankara Buddha</figcaption> </figure>  The section on Buddhist chaityas has clear explanatory notes about the significance of their design. No student will look at Swayambhu or Boudha after learning why the spire and cupola look the way they do. Indeed, all the exhibits have bilingual captions with comprehensive backgrounds about the myths and symbols present in the art pieces and their approximate age. This helps answer frequently asked questions from students such as the reason behind the multiple heads and hands of deities, the symbolic ornaments of Shiva and Vishnu, and the significance of the stupa design.&nbsp; The composition, medium, symbols, and expressions of bronze gilt copper repoussé are explained in detail, including the craftsmanship of the lost wax process. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/bedrock-of-buddhism">Bedrock of Buddhism</a>, Kunda Dixit  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_8e1bcf9bace65f4b7ba2c8b05cf92337b1f54d12776ebc0841bd179b56faf7a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240329060316_8e1bcf9bace65f4b7ba2c8b05cf92337b1f54d12776ebc0841bd179b56faf7a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Students can learn in detail the process of creating a repoussé mask at the Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Gallery B has explanations of Ganesh in a military avatar, ablaze with a flaming backdrop, and another of the elephantine god with six heads and six arms. He rests on snakes in one sculpture and is part of an oil lamp in another. There are nuanced variations in the depiction of Ganesh’s eyes and trunks in each of the objects. "Patan Museum, and indeed the whole Darbar Square, is a living heritage where our students learn history through the architecture, art, culture, and festivals,” says Rekha Pandey, a social studies teacher and educator at Rato Bangala Foundation. “It is ideal learning as the museum exhibits provide a multi-sensory experience that cannot be found in textbooks or lectures.” Museum staff are planning interactive worksheets and cards as learning devices with colourful and interactive worksheets ‘Let’s Discover Patan Darbar’ that allow students to navigate the historic square.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/itumbahas-living-museum">Itumbaha's living museum</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_1d6a101fa7f8c593070171abbf2866b73497ac3a10f5660bb716f1aa85da9aa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20240329060316_1d6a101fa7f8c593070171abbf2866b73497ac3a10f5660bb716f1aa85da9aa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>A 12th-century limestone sculpture of Uma-Maheswar depicting Shiva’s family on Mount Kailash.</figcaption> </figure>  Lakhe says the museum can expand its instructional function with a separate education department. “With additional resources devoted to education, we can focus on creating much more learning opportunities for students,” he adds. &nbsp; There is a story behind every exhibit at the Museum. Gallery B, for example, hosts a 12th-century limestone sculpture of Uma-Maheswar depicting Shiva’s divine family on Mount Kailash. This statue was stolen in 1982 and then returned by a museum in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-did-a-nepali-ritual-altar-end-up-in-berlin">Berlin</a> in 1990. Another piece shows Vishnu carried by the Sunbird, a copper alloy sculpture dating back to the 17th century, adorned with metallic Garuda wings. Students can learn in detail the process of creating a repoussé mask, from an initial pencil design to the feeling of the hammer hitting the bronze sheet. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-nepals-lost-and-the-found">Remembering Nepal's lost and the found</a>, Ashish Dhakal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240329060316_4431f200938cef4be6b390dbde827c0973d85c2ab36dcc1669e6b9dc92319f3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20240329060316_4431f200938cef4be6b390dbde827c0973d85c2ab36dcc1669e6b9dc92319f3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A portal into Patan’s past and present Page 6-7 #1025 NT"> <figcaption>Tusha Hiti where King Siddhi Narsingh Malla used to pray and meditate in the 1640s.</figcaption> </figure>  Patan Museum provides an open-air experience, it is not limited to a building but has access to multiple courtyards including the Mul Chok and Sundari Chok with the exquisite Tusha Hiti step well, and the Bhandarkhal Tank. One of the treasures of the Patan Museum is Tusha Hiti step well where King Siddhi Narsingh Malla used to pray and meditate in the 1640s overlooking a gilded copper spout depicting a Garuda and Laxmi Narayan, and embellished by over 50 carved stone deities in thrones of carved foliage. Visitors can retrace the steps of past royals and their court treading the same stone steps that have been polished by the passage of feet and time.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/patan-heritage-in-fantasy-fiction">Patan heritage in fantasy fiction</a>, Trishagni Sakya

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A portal into Patan’s past and present

Itumbaha is one of the 18 Buddhist monastic enclaves of Kathmandu with a rich history shaped by the Shakyas of Lumbini, who fled to Kathmandu. According to legend, the site was built by Keshchandra, the son of a king in the 11th century. The complex retains most of its original layout with monasteries, courtyards, and votive shrines. After the 1960s, many of Kathmandu’s sacred objects were stolen and smuggled out to collectors and museums in the West. Itumbaha was not spared. “It is said that there are many artefacts that have been stolen from here, but we do not have any documentation,” says Pragya Ratna Shakya of the Itumbaha Conservation Society.&nbsp; In 2022, the Rubin Museum of Art in New York returned two artefacts to Nepal after they were found to have been stolen from religious sites in Kathmandu Valley. The anonymous site Lost Arts of Nepal had located the items at the Rubin following which the citizen-led Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign (NHRC) wrote to the museum for their return. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/bedrock-of-buddhism">Bedrock of Buddhism</a>, Kunda Dixit One of the artefacts was a 14th-century Flying Gandharva (apsara) from Itumbaha. The Rubin also announced a partnership with the Itumbaha Conservation Society and Lumbini Buddhist University (LBU) to ‘research, preserve, and display the collection of one of the oldest, largest, and most important monasteries in Kathmandu, Nepal’. “While working on the return of the apsara, the Rubin expressed an interest in helping the community in any which way it could,” recalls Swosti Rajbhandari, a Museology lecturer at LBU who mediated the collaboration.&nbsp; The Itumbaha Conservation Society wanted to use vacant spaces to display its collection, and the Rubin contributed $20,000 for a three-room display. Rajbhandari and her students cleaned, researched, and catalogued some 500 artefacts. The Itumbaha Museum was set to be inaugurated on 29 July with nearly 150 of the documented objects on display.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230727100756_7274ecc982ef8128a2634cc52a4ecb75ac2e01197937f6399c8e7edb411ef036.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230727100756_7274ecc982ef8128a2634cc52a4ecb75ac2e01197937f6399c8e7edb411ef036" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Page 9 NT 2"> </figure>  The museum concept has been two decades in making, ever since the vihara was being restored in 2003. To construct the museum, the Itumbaha Conservation Society had previously approached Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) when Bidya Sundar Shakya was the mayor. Although they were promised a budget, the community never got the money. Pragya Ratna Shakya sees the museum as an attempt to save its heritage. “There is no point keeping the objects hidden in storage,” says Shakya. “If we display them, there is documentation including photographs and that will hinder theft. It will also help in claiming the artefact if it is stolen.” The Rubin Museum says it is seeking opportunities for meaningful exchange of knowledge, experience, and perspectives across Nepal and the Himalayan region.&nbsp; In an email interview from New York, Jorrit Britschgi, Executive Director of the Rubin Museum, who is traveling to Nepal for the inauguration, told Nepali Times: “For us, our return of the Garland Bearing Apsara demonstrates our commitment to continual collection, research, and our support of Itumbaha’s vision for these galleries is an example of what a return can lead to.”&nbsp; Swosti Rajbhandari, who is helping curate the museum, says that this is a positive step and can contribute to the repatriation of stolen artefacts. She says, “Lain Singh Bangdel said that more than 80% of Nepal’s best work is abroad. The reason we have not been able to bring them back is because we don’t have documentation and proof to show that they are ours. This can be a start.” Yagyaman Pati Bajracharya, intangible heritage conservationist and Buddhist priest, agrees that having a space to showcase the artefacts of the vihara is a positive step. “This will help the younger generation, educators, and researchers from all over the world learn about our culture and heritage,” he says. But not everyone is happy with the Rubin’s involvement or the idea of a museum in the vihara complex. "Itumbaha itself is a living museum," says Jyoti Ratna Shakya, a local of Itumbaha. "Having a museum there is counterintuitive. Moreover, why take money from the Rubin or anyone else? Itumbaha was built by our ancestors, why involve anyone else? It is a disgrace." Activists involved in repatriation also say the Rubin could be doing more to ensure stolen Nepal artefacts are returned.&nbsp; “We are happy that the Rubin Museum has returned the flying apsara once attention was drawn to the fact that it was stolen from Itumbaha,” says Kanak Mani Dixit of the NHRC campaign. “This is a starting point for the Rubin, which considers itself a museum of the Himalaya. It has accountability towards Nepal and other parts of the Himalayan region.” Dixit says the Rubin should go public with the result of its investigation on the provenance of the apsara that was returned, and the route it took to get to New York.&nbsp; “The Museum should conduct a systematic review of its holdings to ensure that there are no other stolen artefacts from Nepal and elsewhere, and must be proactive in returning such items to the host communities rather than wait for activists to come in pursuit,” adds Dixit.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072711070_1c8baa8146324f0c0d75e395e2079ccfdc8d20c9c7131e16027cc3d2e9f72bfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023072711070_1c8baa8146324f0c0d75e395e2079ccfdc8d20c9c7131e16027cc3d2e9f72bfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1029" loading="lazy" alt="Page 9 NT 3"> </figure>  A quick search on the Rubin’s website shows 101 artefacts from Nepal, but activists say there may be many more that have not been listed or on display, although not all of them may be stolen or smuggled. In a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0yKxj3KS3E">2018 documentary by Al Jazeera</a>, art dealer Deepak Shakya had named the Rubin as one of his family’s connections in New York. When the journalist Steve Chou approached the museum, it denied having anything from Shakya in its collection. Britschgi says provenance research is a critical and ongoing process for the Rubin, and recent returns have made the museum more aware of the continued need to dedicate resources to it. “The returns have also led us to re-evaluate elements of our acquisition policy,” says Britschgi. “If the Rubin learns, through its own research, or by another party, that objects in its collection are claimed to have been stolen, looted, or illegally excavated, the Rubin immediately addresses these claims carefully and seriously.” But activists are skeptical of Rubin’s motive and concerned that the museum is using Itumbaha to clean up its international image and blunt criticism that has come its way. By accepting the Rubin’s help and allowing it to host events, some say Nepal is legitimising the museum's past acts. “This is whitewashing,” says heritage conservationist Rabindra Puri, who chairs the Museum of Stolen Art. “If it is about good faith and goodwill, the museum should investigate its collection and return the Nepali artefacts that are rightfully ours.”&nbsp; “There could be potential conflict in future repatriation of other sculptures if discovered in the Rubin’s collection. There may also be other museums with stolen artefacts that may approach other communities in Nepal to absolve themselves. This is setting a negative precedent,” Puri adds. The bahas and bahis of Kathmandu Valley are already living museums, and are sacred spaces that have served as places of learning and worship for centuries. Critics say introducing the western notion of a ‘museum’ devoid of emotional attachment to the visitor is cultural invasion and a form of neocolonialism. Another activist who wished to remain anonymous said, “There are many &nbsp;examples of collectors and traffickers who have funded scholarly excavations and laundered their reputation by donating or helping museums with collections. The Rubin’s involvement can be viewed in a similar lens.” &nbsp;&nbsp;

Sahina Shrestha

Itumbaha's living museum

We often see ourselves reflected in the other. For someone who grew up in Kathmandu Valley in the eighties and nineties, this maxim comes alive with an even greater force. Nepal’s media ecosystem was dismal, the school curriculum was narrow and did not provide opportunities for creative expression. Perhaps that is why I became obsessed with MTV videos and Bollywood films. I saw my developing self reflected in these story-lines and razzmatazz. When the media and education system do not engage the public and reflect myriad interests, aspirations and lifestyles of the population, citizens get detached and disconnected from their roots. I left for America for further studies, and was somewhat determined to never return to Nepal. It was a country full of potholes and black-outs. But foreigners have been fascinated with our country for decades. In the early 19th century, Francis Buchanan-Hamilton led a pioneering expedition and documented more than a thousand species of plants native to the region. Almost a century later, in 1905, Frenchman Sylvan Levi published ‘the first attempt to produce a comprehensive study of Nepal’, drawing on not just indigenous but available Chinese and European sources as well. After Nepal opened up in the 1950s, different kinds of foreigners have traveled here -- most notably, cold-war era spies disguised as diplomats, and later came the hippies. I returned to Nepal in 2013 and was primarily struck by two major demographics - the artists and the expats. Energised by the recent revolution, the creatives were making vibrant, powerful works. The expats, on the other hand, demonstrated a different way to navigate life in Kathmandu Valley. These two groups of people re-introduced Nepal to me and I began seeing my country and my hometown with a renewed perspective. Which is why one particular image from Giovanna Caruso’s ongoing show at the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank">Kalā</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank"> Salon</a> curated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy" target="_blank">Sophia L Pandé</a> instantly caught my attention -- rather, it called out to me, as if it was composed for me, framing a key moment from my own life. Its title is, coincidentally, 2013. Like most of her other works, the pen-and-ink drawing is punctuated by an explosion of watercolour: a woman standing confidently in front of a Newa-style house, a leg arched up, as if she is fixing a strap around an ankle before stepping out on an adventure. The watercolour depicts a rainbow streaming out of a pot through a second-floor window. The rest of the details are rendered in realism – clusters of garlic and onion hanging to dry from the rafters, and further down a stack of corn. There are towels drying, even an old water pump.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="art review Kala Salon"> </figure>  When I walked over to this artwork with Caruso, she chuckled, “Ah, this work is a celebration of my 30 years in Nepal.” It was while trying to calm a restless group of students during her teaching days in Italy that Caruso first came across an iconic image of Kathmandu Darbar Square. She had found an old box of slides and while projecting images from the Himalaya to engage her students, the artist was determined to travel to Nepal. The first flat she rented was close to the square and the view from her rooftop was the same as the one she had encountered inside her classroom. She has been traveling to Nepal every year since. Some of her favourite drawings depict Khokana in morning fog. From 1993-2006, she drew murals at Ram Mandir and Pashupatinath, asking sadhus to guide her and correct her depictions. Caruso received a classical education, which means she was trained to focus on perspective and geometry while capturing mainly portraits and still lives. She is influenced by M C Escher and his explorations of mathematics and symmetry. No wonder she finds the Darbar Square architecture so compelling. She also names as inspiration Gustave Dore, whose style is different from Escher’s and I can see how she has fused these influences in her body of work: Escher’s austerity complimented and slightly dislodged by Dore’s comics and caricatures. “Before starting, the painting needs to be complete in my mind,” she explains as we pass a series of portraits titled Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali Dancing, and Durga dominated by a roaring tiger. “These are all real people, I ask my friends and family members to sit for me.” The Kali in the drawing has the artist’s fiery copper red hair and she is dancing, surrounded by various men with flowing hair. The artist seems to have experimented here, drawing the revelers from above, and indulging in playful abandon. Depictions of Nepal are often in danger of being exoticised. But Caruso is familiar with her subjects, knows our alleys and temples intimately. Her colours and compositions are passionate and dense. In an essay, Anirudh S Chari writes the artist’s work is splashed with rapturous energy and most drawings have a carnivalesque element. ‘Kali Dancing’ illustrates this idea perfectly in that she has turned Kali’s usual fearsome portrayal on its head by depicting and embracing another feminine principle - the capacity to celebrate and create joy. Apart from drawing inspiration from Hindu goddesses and Nepal’s multi-colored rituals, Caruso has also drawn the Sumerian Ianna and Lillith and the Egyptian Nut. She enjoys drawing Nataraja, and says it is because “Shiva is a good husband”. We stand another painting titled 100 Days a Lion. “There is a saying in Italian, Better one day as a lion than a hundred days as a sheep, but I thought why not 100 Days a Lion?” This sentiment captures this nomadic artist’s spirit spanning four decades, in which she has captured urban energy as well as the sacred imagery of ‘life diaries on canvas’. From Venezia to Kathmandu and Journeys In Between Giovanna Caruso The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre Mall, Thamel Till 12 December 10am- 8pm

Looking at Nepal from Venice

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

It is quite a feat for just two actors on a darkened stage to hold an audience spellbound for more than one hour. Yet, ‘के? Us.’ at Kausi Theatre does just that. It is a thought-provoking but baffling work that leaves the audience questioning reality, the recurring metaphors in this intriguing and powerful dark comedy haunting us for days afterwards.&nbsp; The unsettling sound of deep breathing mingles with percussive drumming and a driving guitar that pulsates amidst a red glow, dimly illuminating shadowy structures charred by fire. A door leads to what is later revealed to be the ancestral home of two brothers which is ‘under renovation’. One of the brothers Ashim (Bijaya Tamrakar) lives in Nepal caring for a supposedly comatose mother who is only depicted by a tree draped with red LED lights that circulate arterial blood corpuscles. Visiting him is a long-lost brother Aaryan (Eelum Dixit) who has returned (deported?) from America.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The stage is littered with scattered paper trash, a run-down motorcycle chassis, a tattered sofa, and beat-up table and chairs. The stage is set for a sinister plot. Are the characters to be punished in perdition?&nbsp; It does not take long for the audience to grasp that this is an apocalyptic Nepal that, following absurdist traditions, could exist at any time in the future or the present day <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/election-vs-escalation">post-GenZ protest state</a>. Ashim and Aaryan Adhikari have reunited after 15 years. Ashim, the younger brother, has been burdened with the responsibility of taking care of their brain-dead mother. Aaryan, returns after having migrated to the US, where he married, had children, divorced, and lost everything. He has been at “minus 20 and is now back to zero”.&nbsp; The brothers have intense back-and-forths that expose their cynicism, the conversation tangentially alluding to Nepal’s unstable political landscape, migration, an economy in shambles, aging population, alcoholism and other mental health issues. Even the sibling argument about the relative merits of momos and burgers seems metaphorical. The stagecraft uses lighting and sound effects brilliantly, transporting the audience to a surreal world in which Tamrakar and Dixit improvise their lines — no two shows are exactly the same, although the overall plotline has continuity.&nbsp; In the first scene, Aaryan approaches the house tentatively, creeping rodent-like, and carrying a briefcase and an old-fashioned lantern. And at the end, Ashim screams, “I am chaos.” Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end?&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Choas play review"> </figure>  At one point Aaryan seems perturbed by the sound of protest outside (the Gen Z movement?) and the taut atmosphere grips the audience with fear, shock, and apprehension of the recent death and destruction.&nbsp; Throughout the play there is the sound of breathing, as if through a ventilator, a thumping heartbeat, the morbid buzzing of flies and the glowing red LED veins -- signifying the presence of the comatose Aama. She is featured in a prologue-esque home video at the start of the play in which she reminisces about her two sons and rues her failing memory.&nbsp; The sound of breathing gets accentuated each time a brother gets closer to the tree, and it seems to fuel Ashim’s belief that Aama may be brain-dead but she is still among them. This play can go as deep as each individual in the audience wants it to go.&nbsp; The silenced, comatose mother could be Nepali Aama muted by an entrenched patriarchy. Or, she could be the symbol of a helpless country while her children fight over the ruins of what is left. The cake cutting is a delightfully Shakespearean subplot where we wonder if one of the brothers is going to poison, or knife, the other. The message is clear: how can we move forward if it is brother against brother? The stairs signify political transition (elections, constitutional change, new coalitions) promising upward movement, but eventually lead to falls, leaving the nation exactly where it started, or worse. The mother’s terminal illness evokes an ailing state apparatus, hollowed out by corruption and deep-seated social decay. Yet the brothers cling to an irrational hope — instead of confronting the harsh truth and pursuing radical solutions, suggesting a blind faith in the mother.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The brothers are lost. Aaryan climbs up stairs that lead nowhere, Ashim holds on to unrealistic hope that somehow Aama will get better. Tamrakar and Dixit deliver powerful performances, even more remarkable for the fact that they are improvising their lines as they go along. When Aaryan breaks a wall and directly addresses the audience, spectators turn from being passive observers to active participants (‘the society’). The audience then become oglers in this drama, suddenly made self-aware of our role as the scrutinising, cavilling voyeurs that society represents. There is some discomfort of being watched and judged.&nbsp; By asking his brother what he is afraid of while pointing at the audience, Aaryan suggests that the brother's (and perhaps the character's core) fear is not just of the house, or the mother's illness, but of external judgment and societal censure. After the stage goes dark, the applause takes some time. Audience members shuffle out in silence, minds reeling from the collective soul-searching they have just participated in.&nbsp; After ‘के? Us.’ the din at Teku intersection outside sounds different as we wait for our Pathao ride below the खरी tree where <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=Shukra+Raj+Shastri&amp;client=safari&amp;sca_esv=75e8315709cd5118&amp;rls=en&amp;sxsrf=AE3TifMJhwukjdBBT0n4QcQWe8IYSaEVsw%3A1764648053799&amp;ei=dWQuaYbIMOy94-EPn4ygyAE&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiU1ciogp6RAxXq3TQHHeo9LBIQgK4QegQIARAB&amp;uact=5&amp;oq=nepal+tree+where+martyrs+were+hanged&amp;gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiJG5lcGFsIHRyZWUgd2hlcmUgbWFydHlycyB3ZXJlIGhhbmdlZDIIECEYoAEYwwRIug5QAFiNC3AAeAGQAQCYAc4BoAHrCKoBBTAuNS4xuAEDyAEA-AEBmAIDoALlBMICBRAAGO8FmAMA4gMFEgExIECSBwUwLjEuMqAHzw-yBwUwLjEuMrgH5QTCBwcwLjIuMC4xyAcM&amp;sclient=gws-wiz-serp&amp;mstk=AUtExfCLIneLVW3SFBzxBc964wFcTJ936tcAPSDcvNKljck0PIqDJddMZ_t8Pg610M98MCx14aNdnyLHs9QM0jWLhI7JYmkPhugX1ZHfSQvdCHZE9E5m2_ZQY5Jr893UcGjQfpabtA_C48NfB9Pg56uYMOmTtEBEcGuvz3d96Qaifyb86sI8mAkrRNo_367cv_xmFjLZ55iQkfHtORuOvZSUkIdMvAdpweuf4jPjjI4anbv9lc-uCImdP0JSvtvEGL8ePxwsWWOzYpIbjNP1zofjcWXK&amp;csui=3" target="_blank">Shukra Raj Shastri</a> was hanged in 1941 by the Rana regime. Language and Literature Students, 2026.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  ‘के? Us.’ Kausi Theatre, Teku Till 7 December (except 2 December) Bookings: +977 9842156109, 9842574607

Staged chaos evokes state of Nepal

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

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