It was a bitterly cold night in January 1980, and I was guarding the family's gilded Dipañkara Buddha image at Kathmandu Darbar Square. The white palace wall was defaced with political graffiti, a sign of the anti-Panchayat street demonstrations that were going on at the time. It was also the occasion for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/samyak-mahadan">Samyaka Mahādāna</a>, a 12-yearly mega alms-giving Buddhist festival usually graced by the head of state.&nbsp; I was supposed to collect the money offered by devotees who thronged there to pay homage to Dipañkara, and the coins made a bulge in my right pocket (pictured below).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_a2cba433bd4fdc7566ca6b0dc4901a19febf06256b98da4195e9e9a9bd18c2d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250807080852_a2cba433bd4fdc7566ca6b0dc4901a19febf06256b98da4195e9e9a9bd18c2d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1013" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> <figcaption>Samyaka Mahādāna in Kathmandu Darbar Square in 1980. Photo: PADMADHAR TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/traders-barter-tradition-for-modernity">Newāḥ traders</a> of Kathmāndu Valley spent some of the riches they earned from the profitable trans-Himalayan trade with Tibet organising these grand Samyaka Mahādāna festivals.&nbsp; In 1882 CE, one such trader who was my ancestor, Gyān Bir Singh Tulādhar of Wonemā, had funded an exclusive Samyaka Mahādanā festival. All Newāḥ Buddhist priests in Nepāla Maṇḍala are invited to receive alms, and at the end it is obligatory for the patron to commission a large idol of Dipañkara, usually of gilded copper, with an abundance of ornaments bedecked with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/written-in-stone-swayambhu-sila-lekh,1596">precious stones</a>. The fire-gilded statue is then consecrated so that it is elevated to the status of deity, worthy of worship. The god is handed down from generation to generation as a living testimony of one’s ancestors having paid for the elaborate Samyaka ceremony. Succeeding generations proudly display the Dipañkara image every year along with other religious and<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=604"> ritualistic artefacts</a>, such as a long, narrow scroll painting (Bilañpau) that depicts life stories of legendary figures. The exhibit is put up for several days during the holy month of Guñla, especially on the full moon and the day after, which this year fall on 9 and 10 August.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_0910828ee66c9d74d1ff1319e417c910c87c9debb8e787a188aad75c30da576c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250807080852_0910828ee66c9d74d1ff1319e417c910c87c9debb8e787a188aad75c30da576c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1511" height="1497" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> <figcaption>The idol of Dipañkara Tathāgata of Kvābahāh being exhibited at the house of the eldest member of the clan upon completion of communal feast which is part of the Itilahnè Samyaka. Photo: BAJRARAJ SHAKYA</figcaption> </figure>  The practice of communal recitation of hymns and prayers in front of the image of Bahi Dyo, known as Tutaḥ Bwonegu, adds tranquillity and humbleness to a festival that otherwise flaunts wealth. Entire neighbourhoods throng to pay homage to the golden Dipañkara Buddha, propped up on a wooden frame, behind latticed wooden windows in a room on the ground floor of a house in the sacred courtyard to which the family belongs.&nbsp; The exhibition is known as Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu (bahi = sacred courtyard; dyo = deity; bwoyegu = to exhibit). The day after the full moon, scores of religious Dhāḥ and Khiñ drum ensembles parade around town, visiting the colourful Bahi Dyo exhibits. Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu essentially is the age-old practice of publicly showcasing the religious, artistic, and economic heritage of Newāḥ Buddhist families of Kathmandu Valley.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_848190d0fcd785e80d8422f444f5dd233b60ddbdf4c91b7b78b01ab9120a8fe8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250807080856_848190d0fcd785e80d8422f444f5dd233b60ddbdf4c91b7b78b01ab9120a8fe8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  According to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-script-of-the-scriptures">Buddhist scriptures</a>, a Samyaka Sambuddha – an all-knowing supreme being – makes his appearance on earth after the passage of an eon. Twenty-eight such Buddhas have taken birth so far, the latest one being the Śākyamuni Gautama Buddha born in Lumbini in the 6th Century BC.&nbsp; One of the earliest in the series was the Dipañkara Buddha, a great proponent of the merits of giving alms, and the one who forecast the coming of Siddhārtha Gautama, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/telling-the-story-of-buddha-s-lumbini">the historical Buddha</a>. Legend goes that while on his way to receive alms at a magnificent ceremony organised by a affluent king, Dipañkara stopped en route to receive offerings of a handful of grain from an impoverished elderly woman who had made it a habit of keeping aside a portion of her meagre income for giving away. When asked by the puzzled king about the reason for stopping to receive such a scanty handout, Dipañkara gave a lengthy discourse about the virtue of selfless charity and the demerits of giving away riches collected by unscrupulous means. Suitably convinced, the king took up a menial job with a blacksmith, using his earnings to organise another alms giving ceremony at a later time, albeit on a much smaller scale.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_3cadf664097a8594ebb8cdd207f030ac123c1d279ef7d455f12f4549be314d11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250807080856_3cadf664097a8594ebb8cdd207f030ac123c1d279ef7d455f12f4549be314d11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  This lore has been venerated to this day by the Newāḥ Buddhist community by virtuously perpetuating the tradition of giving alms on several occasions throughout the sacred month of Guñlā. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Legends-of-pragya-paramita,3281">Guñlā </a>means the month (lā) that you spend in the nearby forest (guñ) engaging in meditation and devotional activities. Also known as Varśāvās, it is the period of the annual retreat of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/monsoon-culture">the monsoon</a> (Varśā = rain in Sanskrit) and coincides with the month of Śrāvan in the solar calendar when followers of Śaivism perform special prayer rituals and weekly fasts in reverence of Lord Śiva. As part of the Guñlā celebrations, during the Pañcadāna festival all Newāḥ Buddhist households in Kāthmāndu offer alms of grain, money, and rice pudding to members of the Śakya and Bajrācārya priest clans, who go from house to house seeking alms as required by religious duty, regardless of their financial status. The Pancadāna festival is held in Pātan on the eighth day of the bright half of Śrāvan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_b669c26806561dd032840fd6aa04ee8096e9d46786efc7ce3d9d9b4e5caa2fd5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250807080856_b669c26806561dd032840fd6aa04ee8096e9d46786efc7ce3d9d9b4e5caa2fd5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_097db9c053352e79919afaf6557bec2067d1497fbeeeb793c1c3f4a3ec2c4ab3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250807080856_097db9c053352e79919afaf6557bec2067d1497fbeeeb793c1c3f4a3ec2c4ab3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  In line with the same philosophy, the monumental two-day alms-giving festival Samyak Mahādāna is held every 12 years in Kāthmāndu, where hundreds of Dipañkara images are paraded through the city thoroughfares and assembled at Bhuikhyaḥ, a large open public space at the base of the sacred hill of Swoyambhu. This important event is now several years behind schedule because of the encroachment of Bhuikhyaḥ, where the alms-giving ceremony takes place. A downsized version of the Samyaka festival takes place in Pātan every five years. Predictably enough, this display of affluence and opulence comes with its share of risks. A large gilded Dipañkara image was found missing from a reputed monastic complex in Pātan several years ago, together with many smaller images and other accessories. Later, most of the stolen items, including the Dipañkar image, surfaced at an auction house in Europe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_1c40d5fcc3b3735acbb9c9d21bf6c488904a89573d2c578d9c7b3e45d4a35520.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250807080856_1c40d5fcc3b3735acbb9c9d21bf6c488904a89573d2c578d9c7b3e45d4a35520" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  GODS IN SAFEKEEPING Continuous efforts by the local community in Pātan, the Nepal government, and the ‘host’ government helped bring back the image safely to its original place of residence two years after it was stolen. But some of the pieces of the Bahi Dyo set are yet to come home. This case has alerted other Bahi Dyo owners about the very real threat of theft, leading to many of them exhibiting the image privately in their residences only for a day or two. But while this allows for their family members to pay homage to Dipañkara, the public gets no access to them, a practice that is becoming increasingly common. Some families have resorted to entrusting the safekeeping of the deity to one of the government museums in the city for the rest of the year after the exhibition is over.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_fd81e4fb96e06ef8ffe48e0502f6846fb83994b876b781bf035119bd9f32b5ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250807080856_fd81e4fb96e06ef8ffe48e0502f6846fb83994b876b781bf035119bd9f32b5ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_8b464cc3a2746f76dd0ee9a4cef6b5371bc1dfce319a7dd436cdfe0d4e94d9c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250807080852_8b464cc3a2746f76dd0ee9a4cef6b5371bc1dfce319a7dd436cdfe0d4e94d9c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  However, some families which held the Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu ceremony privately earlier are now putting together resources and security measures to display their god openly in the courtyard for all to venerate. Conditions governed by changing times have forced Bahi Dyo owners to adopt newer and more pragmatic practices. The Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu festival is the proudest moment of the year for communities — an opportunity to showcase the achievements of their ancestors with full religious endorsement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_095a1b99ac4b37b4b02664ff62ca92890c526bd287255d52ce4b645a42bff4cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250807080856_095a1b99ac4b37b4b02664ff62ca92890c526bd287255d52ce4b645a42bff4cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_da11420b61e4ba204b7eafea878cf2ebbbd545f8a265f4d6fb2ecf7c6b197800.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250807080856_da11420b61e4ba204b7eafea878cf2ebbbd545f8a265f4d6fb2ecf7c6b197800" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  This event is also a reflection of the deep devotion of the people, their uncompromising social values, and extraordinary artistic skills. The razzmatazz of the Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu tradition may seem in sharp contrast with the merits of philanthropy preached by Dipañkara Buddha, but it has survived for centuries. In fact, this glorious intangible heritage is thriving again. &nbsp; Alok Siddhi Tuladhar is a cultural preservation activist and documentary filmmaker.

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Kathmandu’s religious opulence

The streets of Patan are alive this month with lavender jacaranda trees under rain-washed skies as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the chariot of Rato Matsyendranath</a> is pulled across town. This is the festival of the rain god, and inevitably the heavens opened up and pre-monsoon showers pelted the chariot as it started being pulled in Pulchok last week. Thousands of devotees, onlookers and the chariot procession organisers thronged the streets on the first day last week. The rhythmic cymbals and drums exuded a vibrant energy as the enormous four wheels turned and the chariot lurched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  The<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141"> red rain god</a> has Hindu and Buddhist antecedents, alternatively called Bungadya and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival"> Karunamaya</a> — reflecting Kathmandu Valley’s syncretic mixture of the two religions.&nbsp; “Bungadya is a profoundly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/marketing-the-intangible">intangible form of heritage</a>,” explains heritage expert Monalisa Maharjan. “It embodies traditional knowledge,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reviving-nepal-s-craft"> artisanal skills passed down through generations</a>. Local communities and specific families have specified roles in being custodians of the heritage, ensuring their survival over the centuries.” There are many legends and stories about this annual tradition. Lichhavi king Narendra Dev is supposed to have brought Rato Matsyendranath from Assam to Kathmandu Valley to convince Guru Gorakhnath to lift a spell that created a two-year drought in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Matsyendranath was Gorakhnath’s mentor, and upon seeing him, the serpents were released, unleashing the rains. The chariot festival honours the return of this life-giving rain. The deity is seen as an icon for thriving agriculture, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">he arrival of monsoon</a> showers, and the welfare of the community. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">The reign of the god of rain</a>, Vidhu Prakash Kayastha Till this day, the Rato Matsyendranath festival is no ordinary celebration. Patan does not sleep for a month as the chariot is pulled through various neighbourhoods. It unfolds at a state level with the president (formerly the king) attending the climax of the Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel later this month.&nbsp; The intergenerational transmission of tradition is unique in the world, and the reason the festival is one of the most vibrant cultural expressions that thrives despite inroads of modernity. The other unique aspect is that it is a transnational festival, binding Patan with Guwahati in the Indian state of Assam.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  “Unlike Nepal, where the deity commands grandeur and devotion, many in Assam are unaware of Rato Matsyendranath,” says Khagen Sharma of Gauhati University, which convened <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">a symposium in February in Guwahati on the rain god</a>. Attending was a delegation led by Lalitpur Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan, organisers of the festival, and builders of the chariot. After the symposium, a committee was formed to explore and revive the tradition in Assam as well. Although the team had planned to visit Nepal this month, logistical challenges delayed the trip. Still, there are plans to build a Guru Matsyendranath statue in Assam to reestablish regular worship practices in the Guwahati shrine.&nbsp; The vines used to build the chariot in Patan are sourced from the jungles of Assam. But Sharma notes that in recent years unclear regulations have blocked the official import of the vines, although they are still brought to Nepal informally. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">chariot making</a> has also had a taste of modernisation in recent times. In the past, even a single nail or piece of steel was avoided. But over time, the wooden structure, particularly the shaft between the wheels, has been replaced with bronze. When that too proved unstable, metal clamps were introduced, which have become a pragmatic compromise.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Another welcome change is the focus on safety. Builders climbing the chariot’s tower now wear harnesses and there are efforts in crowd control. The most visible change in recent years has been the involvement of Patan’s enthusiastic youth in the festival — the tradition is now passing to a new generation. Says Matsyendranath expert Vidhu Kayastha: “There is more energy, the young people in red t-shirts this year were very organised, these modern touches aren’t diluting our culture, they’re keeping it alive in new forms.” He adds, “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">reconnecting with our roots</a>, we have more resources, more awareness than ever before. We must not be swept away by western values that may not serve us, and in some ways, cause more harm than good. We must revive our own culture.”&nbsp;

Divine chariot

The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141">Rato Matsyendranath Chariot Festival</a> started in Patan this week, one of the longest such carnivals in the world. Matsyendranath is a festival that spans South Asia and is revered as a rain-giver god by both Hindus and Buddhists. It has close historical links to the Indian state of Assam. Legend has it that 1,500 years ago, a 12-year drought threatened famine in Kathmandu Valley because the sage Gorakhnath was sitting on a bed of serpents preventing rain from falling. In despair, the Lichhavi King Narendra Dev travelled to Guwahati to bring Guru Matsyendranath to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">the town of Bungamati</a>. Gorakhnath was a disciple of Matsyendranath, and upon seeing his guru, promptly stood up, thus setting the serpents free. The heavens then opened up with life-giving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">rain</a>. Ever since, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the Rato Matsyendra idol</a> is brought from Bungamati and taken around Patan in a month-long chariot festival. Matsyendranath is also known as Bungadyo in Kathmandu Valley and revered as the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/attaining-divinity-through-art">Buddhist divinity </a><a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival">Karunamaya</a>, his teachings influenced Hatha Yoga and Tantric practices. It is believed that Matsyendranath was an actual sage, and while it is not clear when exactly he lived, it is thought that he was incarnated from a fish and became a great yogi, carrying divine wisdom from his early spiritual experiences. Matsyendranath started being worshipped as the god of rain and fertility around the 7th century CE during the reign of King Narendra Dev in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/time-capsule-of-kathmandu">Kathmandu Valley</a>. Researchers have been unable to agree on the exact dates and the actual historical details of his life are connected to Nepal and Bengal, Assam, and Karnataka in India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050544_18c6ebf38935591d1b0e327a79ecfb52ba7155c12df76d56cdb6cc0a1a4168ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250509050544_18c6ebf38935591d1b0e327a79ecfb52ba7155c12df76d56cdb6cc0a1a4168ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  This festival is celebrated according to the lunar calendar and it holds great significance for the people of Kathmandu Valley. Millions of devotees travel to the chariot during its month-long journey through<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/patan-for-beginners"> the streets of Patan</a>. Once every 12 years, the procession travels from Bungamati to Jawalakhel and it becomes a grand religious and cultural event, with tens of thousands thronging the route to offer respects. Local communities from 21 neighbourhoods along the way take turns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/police-stop-patan-chariot-pulling-citing-covid-19-9wbzmxtq">pulling the chariot</a>, providing drinking water, sanitation, and health services. The 30m high wooden chariot is built and dismantled every year, without the use of any nails. The timber beams are strung together with vines especially imported from Assam. The chariot is pulled by various guthi communities along the route, and there are strict procedures that have to be adhered to in the construction and the locomotion of the four-wheeled chariot.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050552_6fc306bccfa097c71e71fda24b0bed1c87f1e7a9bffa7ceb09c97608b822f07d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250509050552_6fc306bccfa097c71e71fda24b0bed1c87f1e7a9bffa7ceb09c97608b822f07d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  The climax of the festival is the viewing of a jewel-encrusted vest (bhoto) in the presence of the king of Nepal when the country was still <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal">a monarchy</a> and now before the President. The bhoto is not only a piece of jewelry but also a physical manifestation of the god’s blessings.&nbsp; The festival fosters <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/my-sweet-lord?%2F">religious devotion </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-is-turning-into-a-nation-of-hybrid-identities">cultural identity</a> not just among Kathmandu Valley’s Newar population, but it also connects Nepalis emotionally and spiritually.&nbsp; In the coming weeks, the chariot procession of Matsyendranath and the smaller accompanying Minnath chariot will pass through <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">Patan Darbar Square</a>, on to Lagankhel and then Jawalakhel. The streets are cleaned and cleared as though it is a divine path, transforming the physical world into something celestial. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">The chariot itself is the result of a collective effort</a>. Designated teams take one month to construct a new chariot every year, the act of assembling the chariot itself is a devotional act, with the technique passed down from one generation to the next. The artisans believe they are receiving blessings from Rato Matsyendranath through their work.&nbsp; The guthi devotees contribute financially to the costs of maintaining and repairing the chariot, the donations are not merely physical exchanges, but also serve as expressions of devotion. This creates a reciprocal relationship between people and their god. From a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">tourism</a> perspective, the festival also holds great importance, benefiting the local economy. In living religions, physical culture is often linked to tourism and pilgrimage. The chariot festival attracts visitors from Nepal and abroad, creating a blend of religious pilgrimage and cultural events that bring people together.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250509050552_1dd01605a22f3d3ba5cc1f94c3aa89ed4deb44ca6b0ad5be8d9ddf8aacf55773.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250509050552_1dd01605a22f3d3ba5cc1f94c3aa89ed4deb44ca6b0ad5be8d9ddf8aacf55773" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The reign of the god of rain"> </figure>  The festival also requires close coordination between various agencies of government, and it works more seamlessly than in other spheres of national life: Lalitpur District Administration, Department of Roads, Drinking Water Corporation, and the Nepal Electricity Authority. &nbsp; The government’s Guthi Sansthan is responsible for managing cultural programs and fundraising efforts, ensuring that the festival’s cultural heritage is preserved. Alongside this, the Lalitpur Metropolitan City, the local governing body, oversees the festival’s organisation.&nbsp; Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan himself led a delegation of chariot construction and pulling teams to Guwahati earlier this year to revive <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived?fbclid=IwY2xjawIYRjxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHa9fxIFIz8qRyff36GlX3JQhEi4z7qZ_xQmzs6TO73QzSP7H_9zcEi8XFg_aem_v9DlVc1cB2QuEOcqYYPGjg">the connection between Nepal and Assam</a>. <h2>Teamwork</h2> Many organisations and professions are involved in the Matsyendranath Chariot Festival: Jyapu Samaj: a community-based volunteer organisation that works closely with various ethnic groups across Patan, coordinating festival activities and ensuring effective collaboration.&nbsp; Paneju Sangh: an organisation of priests from the Matsyendranath tradition overseeing religious activities. They perform daily prayers and other religious rituals to uphold the spiritual sanctity of the event.&nbsp; Astrologers: play a critical role by determining the auspicious time for the deity’s transfer, ensuring that the process is conducted according to divine timings.&nbsp; Bosi: are responsible for selecting and preparing the appropriate timber for the chariot, ensuring its readiness for the journey.&nbsp; Barahi: are the carpenters who handle the construction and leadership of the chariot ensuring its craftsmanship and precision.&nbsp; Yenwa: are tasked with reinforcing the chariot’s structure using bamboo, rope, and other materials, and they also guide the chariot during the procession.&nbsp; Ghaku: steer the movement of the chariot carefully through Patan’s narrow streets.&nbsp; Pun: are painters responsible for repairing and painting the deity’s face to maintain its visual integrity throughout the procession. Dila Chahre: they go before the chariot procession to Kwoduwa twice a year to receive blessings from the deity and manage the morning puja throughout the chariot procession. Kuma: prepare clay containers needed for the Dashakarma puja.&nbsp; Suwa: offer sacrifices during the puja, bring water from Bungamati during the bath procession, and cover the deity with a canopy while bringing the deity from the Kuduwama twice a year. Guruju: participate in the Ivu bath procession, offer sacrifices at Nasalchok, and engage in the Mahabali puja.&nbsp; Rakami: participate in the pre-procession rituals before the chariot procession begins. Tole Sudhar Samiti: 21 local wards take turns pulling the chariot and provide essential services such as drinking water, sanitation, and health support to participants.&nbsp; Vidhu Kayastha, PhD, has been conducting research on Rato Matsyendranath since 2011.

The reign of the god of rain

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yen Yaa</a> has many popular myths associated with it. But sometimes popularity is shallow. We must dig deeper and uncover the layers through which history has evolved. Only then will we fully appreciate how truly ancient and profound our culture is. Tuesday was a public holiday in Kathmandu Valley for Yeṃ Yāḥ. While we celebrate Yeṃ Yāḥ with much gusto and fervour for a week, ending Saturday, we also lament over how Indrāju, the chief deity worshipped during Yeṃ Yāḥ, and his consort Indrāṇi have been globetrotting, leaving us devotees in a spiritual void. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aC4pMWoYRek?si=m9P5ClcqPqtsczCS" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> As reported by the Facebook page Lost Arts of Nepal, this 38cm tall wooden image of Indrāju and Indrāṇi, originating in Nepāl Maṇḍala in the 17th or 18th century CE, was up for sale last year on 28 September at the Stallion Hill Gallery of Stamford, Connecticut — the same day the Nepal government had declared a holiday in honour of Indrāju. Yaḥsiṃ, also known as Indradhoj, the symbolic wooden pole of Indrāju, was erected Sunday morning at the former royal palace complex in Hanumāndhokā, marking the formal beginning of the mystical and colorful Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="yashim/indradhoj before it is hoisted NT"> <figcaption>Yasih, the symbolic pole of Indra, before it is hoisted.</figcaption> </figure>  The legend goes that on the fourth of the dark half of Bhadra, lord of heaven Indra came to Kathmandu to get the Parijāt flower (night-blooming jasmine, Nyctanthes arbor-tristis), which his mother needed to perform a sacred ritual in honour of goddess Vasundharā. Kathmanduites caught him stealing the flower and tied him up in a wooden pole in a busy marketplace to shame his thieving act — this tradition continues till today by putting up his effigy in street intersections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Indraju tied up on a pole NT"> <figcaption>Indrāju image tied up on a tall machan in Maru, Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  Says cultural documentarian Sandip Maharjan, “People worship Indra that night and offer him hard-to-chew roasted maize, wheat and beans — a kind of a punishment for his misdeed. On this day, Indra is called khuṃ dyaḥ, meaning thief god in Nepālbhāsā.” The festival is celebrated to glorify Lord Indra's visit — though unpleasant — to earth, and hence the name Indra Jatra. Says Jaa Dangol, founder of Lachhi that promotes ethnic food, living, and products, “The full moon day is celebrated in many parts of the Kathmandu valley as Samayabaji Punhi, when every Newāḥ household prepares special food items to distribute it in the neighborhood as a means of earning good karma to help deceased ancestors find their way to heaven.” The food items include puffed rice, black soybean, ginger pieces, marinated buffalo meat and lentil pancake — representing sky, wind, fire, water and earth respectively, the five building blocks of the universe as per Vedic philosophy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Samaybhaji NT"> <figcaption>Ceremonial Samaybaji, the food that represents the universe.</figcaption> </figure>  Indra's celestial elephant Pulu Kisi, and eventually his mother Dāgīṃ, descended to earth looking for the erring Indra, the legend goes on. Both these events are mirthfully acted out in the streets of Kathmandu during Indra Jatra till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812" data-rendition-name="original" width="1788" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dagim, Indra's mother NT"> <figcaption>Dagim, Indra's mother, parading the streets of Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  The older — and possibly original — interpretation of the gala Indra Jatra fest is much more profound than the entertaining story of the thief god Indra. That explanation is connected with the agrarian civilisation of Kathmandu Valley, and its climatic conditions that determine the quality and quantity of agricultural produce. For the indigenous Newāḥ people of Nepāl Maṇḍala, all ancestors have supernatural powers, and hence are divinities. The autumnal festival Yeṃ Yāḥ is celebrated in honor of one particular ancestral deity — Indrāju — in appreciation of his rainmaking capabilities. Indrāju is the conjunct of Indra, the king of heaven, and Āju, the male ancestral divinity. Indrāju has blessed Nepāl Maṇḍala with plenty of rain during the monsoon, hence enabling a bountiful harvest. The people of Nepāl Maṇḍala are now celebrating Yeṃ Yāḥ, at the end of the monsoon, in honour of Indrāju for the rain he sent down to earth from heaven. Another name for Indrāju is Yemāḥ Dyaḥ, from which Indra Jatra's original name — Yeṃ Yāḥ — is derived. Indrāju is easily identifiable with the horizontal third eye on his forehead. He is usually accompanied by the elephant, his vehicle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant "> <figcaption>Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant.</figcaption> </figure>  Indrāju is no doubt the protagonist in this week-long gala. But of equal — if not greater — importance is the exuberant display of Hāthu Dyaḥ, commonly venerated as Vedic deity Bhairava in recent centuries. Why is Bhairav so ubiquitous during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the festival that venerates Indrāju? Numerous images of Hāthu Dyaḥ are brought out from storage and displayed atop special wooden platforms at street intersections throughout the old settlements of Kathmandu Valley during the Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Hathu Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Primordial image of Hāthu Dyaḥ.</figcaption> </figure>  According to Gautama Vajracharya, an eminent Sanskritist and scholar of Newāḥ heritage, Hāthu Dyaḥ is the ancestral sky god who bestows monsoon rains upon the earth. The cult of Hāthu Dyaḥ existed in Nepāl Maṇḍala before the arrival of the Licchavis from northern India in 300 CE. At that time, Hāthu Dyaḥ was venerated by Kathmandu Valley's agrarian population as the male ancestral deity and sky god who bestowed the valley with rain during the monsoon. Putting up a Hāthu Dyaḥ image on a raised platform in the street and carrying out the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual (pouring of home made rice beer from a container behind the Hāthu Dyaḥ image) every day for a week during Yeṃ Yāḥ was a way to thank him for the rains that enabled a good rice plantation season. It is believed that drinking the holy beer that flows from Hāthu Dyaḥ's mouth contributes to one's good health for the rest of the year. An imposing and elaborately decorated image of Hāthu Dyaḥ (specific name: Āju Dyaḥ, meaning male ancestral deity) is brought out from his temple at Vaṃghaḥ, nowadays also known as Indrachowk. This was a major intersection in old Kathmandu that was given the name during Rānā regime because of the image of Indrāju put up on a high platform during Yeṃ Yāḥ. Throughout Yeṃ Yāḥ, the blue Āju Dyaḥ is put up for a resplendent display on a wooden stage, complete with a glistening metal roof and three finials, built just for this purpose.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Aju Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Āju Dyaḥ image put up for display on the street.</figcaption> </figure>  Twice a day during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual takes place here. Āju Dyaḥ is also known as Yelam, derived from the archaic Nepāl Bhāsā word ailam, meaning sky. Hence, a modern name of Āju Dyaḥ is Ākāś Bhairava, literally the sky Bhairava. Hāthu Dyaḥ, Āju Dyaḥ and Bhairava are always depicted by Newāḥ artisans with abstract circular patterns in parts of the face, such as in the eyebrows and around the mouth. These metaphysical shapes are defined by art historians as water foliage — rain drops that make up the cloud. This connects Hāthu Dyaḥ with the sky and rain once more. The trend of giving continuity to Hāthu Hāyeke by using the physical form of Bhairava instead of the primordial Hāthu Dyaḥ took root in the post-Licchavi era (after 879 CE), according to Vajracharya. Essentially, Yeṃ Yāḥ is the autumnal festival that celebrates the end of the rainy season by thanking the ancestral rainmaker deity who underwent transformation from pre-Lichhavi period Hāthu Dyaḥ to the post-Lichhavi period Bhairava. &nbsp;Says Vajracharya, "During the Lichhavi period, he was mostly venerated as Indrāju, the combined form or Vedic god of rain Indra and male ancestor Āju."  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Devi Nach NT"> <figcaption>The ancient Devi Nach performed during the festival.</figcaption> </figure>  All modern forms of Hāthu Dyaḥ are depicted as the Vedic deity Bhairava, the wrathful form of lord Śiva. Hanumāndhokā's Hāthu Dyaḥ, nowadays commonly known as Śveta Bhairava, is a recent one — it was built in the early Śāh period (late 18th century CE). All Hāthu Dyaḥ images look irate and have a third eye. Alok Siddhi Tuladhar is a cultural preservation activist and documentary filmmaker. Tuladhar dedicates himself to preserving Nepal's cultural legacy, aiming to celebrate his roots and inspire younger generations of its value for a better tomorrow. He can be reached at <a href="mailto:alokstuladhar@gmail.com">alokstuladhar@gmail.com</a>.

Yeṃ Yāḥ

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba4359c7e80680e073657jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"/>People in Kathmandu celebrate Janai Purnima today amid the increasing risk of COVID-19 in the capital, with worshippers flocking to Pashupati to observe the festivities wearing masks. Over 600 individuals have been infected with the coronavirus in Kathmandu Valley.On this day, devotees visit Pashupati to worship Lord Shiva and take a dip in the holy river, after which men replace the sacred threads (janai) worn across their torsos with new ones. Newa households in the Valley feast on kwati, a soup based on nine different types of sprouted beans.The day is also celebrated as Rakshya Bandhan, and people tie red, yellow, and orange threads (doro) around their wrists to shield themselves from harm. Rakshya Bandhan is also a day when siblings celebrate their bond, with sisters tying rakhi on their brothers' wrists.In Khokana, frogs are worshipped as the rain gods on Janai Purnima, and for the protection of crops. Food is prepared for the frog, which includes green leaves, rice, kwati, roti, meat, and cow milk. The frogs are then fed in the fields. It is believed that feeding the frogs will bring a good harvest, and ward off evil.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba4399c7e80680e073658jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba43c9c7e80680e073659jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1884" height="1256"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba43f9c7e80680e07365ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba4429c7e80680e07365bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba4469c7e80680e07365cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1365"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba4499c7e80680e07365djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba44c9c7e80680e07365ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1150"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109131156/636ba44f9c7e80680e07365fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1150"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba4549c7e80680e073660jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1150"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914110/636ba4589c7e80680e073661jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1150">Photos: Bikram Rai and Hari Bhakta Dangol

This year’s Janai Purnima with extra strings attached

<figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20221107171116_63692f9b9c7e80680e03c0b4jpeg.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20221107171116_63692f9b9c7e80680e03c0b4jpeg" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt=" "> <figcaption> </figcaption> </figure>  When Deepak Gautam’s wife was pregnant with their second child, his older daughter came to him with a worried look. “I want a sister, but someone told me to wish for a brother. Otherwise I will have no one to celebrate Bhai Tika with,” said the then 7-year old. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17564#.W77-bXszbIU" target="_blank">Bhai Tika is the last day of Tihar</a> when sisters and brothers bless each other, and this year, it falls on 9 November. Gautam reassured his daughter she could celebrate the festival, no matter what. When his wife Usha gave birth to a second daughter, the family started a new tradition: their daughters, now 10 and 3, put tika on each other. “Our daughters do not need to miss tika just because they do not have a brother,” says the couple, “they can give each other gifts, pray for each other’s happiness. We even decided to rename Bhai Tika as Tihar Tika.” Bhai Tika is an opportunity for reunions and celebration of sibling affection. There is a growing sense that like other festivals, it prioritises men and the rituals entrench a gender hierarchy. <div class="embed-block"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171116/63692f989c7e80680e03c0b3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1992" height="1121"> </div> “Women pray for the longevity and prosperity of brothers, but brothers do not wish for the same for their sisters, so the sisters are given less importance,” explains the girls' mother Usha Acharya. The hierarchy is even more evident in the festival of raksha bandhan, marked in southern Nepal and India in spring. That festival also celebrates siblings, but places men in the role of protectors of their sisters. “Seeing men as protectors and women as objects that need protection promotes aggressive masculinity in society,” says Pallavi Payal, 27, who has always celebrated raksha bandhan with her sister. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14876&amp;preview=true" target="_blank">Go easy on the booze this holiday season</a>, Sonia Awale <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14800&amp;preview=true" target="_blank">Octoberfest</a>, Editorial In other festivals like jitiya celebrated in the Madhesi community, women fast for the longevity of their sons, but not daughters. Says Indian feminist scholar Kamala Bhasin: “Patriarchal traditions like these harm not just women but also men. Little six-year-old brothers are sent to guard their teenage sisters. It places burdens upon men that they cannot possibly carry. It is worse for women, of course, because it entrenches their secondary status in society.” Women are barred from rituals if they are menstruating, which reinforces their ‘impure’ status. Many women then blame themselves for ‘spoiling the festival for everyone’. Nirmala Bhetuwal, 40, of Jhapa checks the calendar before Dasain, wondering if she will have to spend it in a corner. She has been taking hormone pills to delay her periods during major festivals at great cost to her health. Her husband has no idea she has to put herself through this. “Thank god these medicines exist, otherwise, the festivals would be soured for everyone,” says Bhetuwal. Read also:&nbsp; <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=14883&amp;preview=true" target="_blank">The sacrifice of animal sacrifices</a>, Aashish Mishra <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/where-are-you-going-this-dasain/" target="_blank">Where are you going this Dasain?</a>, Sikuma Rai Dasain and Tihar also come with added chores for women already over-burdened with day-to-day work. Saraswati Niraula, 48, of Tehrathum has not visited her parents during Dasain for ten years because she is too busy making festival arrangements for her husband’s family. She says: “My Dasain starts a month ahead, I walk seven hours to get the white clay to decorate my house. Then I beat rice for sel-rotis, and prepare for the Dasain feasts.” Dasain this year falls on 16-20 October, and men spend time in family reunions, card games, eating and drinking, while the women are usually busy cooking and cleaning up. Nepali women have traditionally accepted these unwritten rules as ‘their work’. Gender rights activist Meera Dhungana says discrimination prevails because of the sense of duty instilled in women by society: “The women’s economic, social and educational status, which are still low, are at the root of discriminatory festivals." Activists say that Nepal’s festivals must now change with the times, and many men have also begun to ask these questions and advocate for change. Read also:&nbsp; <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8860#.W77-UHszbIU" target="_blank">Between Dasain and Tihar</a>, Kunda Dixit <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dasain-goes-global,3950" target="_blank">Global Dasain</a>, Julia Thomas Men Engage Alliance, a group formed in North America in 2004, found its way to Nepal in 2007 and since then, has continued to raise its voice against the culture of masculinity. “While we worship women as goddesses during Dasain, they are barred from many Devi temples. Yet, the burden of organising the rituals lies disproportionately on women,” says Kapil Kafle, former South Asia coordinator of the alliance. “It benefits men if they share the labour. If a man portrays himself as an intimidating head of household, he may escape the work, but will not be loved. Men who help out at home gain the affection of family members.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20221107171116_63692f959c7e80680e03c0b2jpeg.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20221107171116_63692f959c7e80680e03c0b2jpeg" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="933" loading="lazy" alt=" "> <figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI </figcaption> </figure>  As more young women are educated and their socio-economic status improves, things have begun to change. They now participate in rituals that were forbidden earlier, including last rites of parents. Families now make time for women to also enjoy festivals. “Men rarely visited their in-laws during Dasain in the past, but it is now the norm,” says Usha Acharya. Pallavi Payal also believes things are changing for the better. Women now fast not just for their sons, but also daughters during jitiya. And her inclusive raksha bandhan and bhai-bahini tika is not so rare anymore. Says Payal: “People used to accuse us of distorting culture and tradition, but our parents insist that we should celebrate our sisterhood as well.” Read also:&nbsp; <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/vegetables-and-famous-veggie-dishes-this-Dasain,3951" target="_blank">This dasain, vegetate</a>, Sonia Awale <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16337#.W77_zXszbIU" target="_blank">Enduring relevance of Dasain</a>, CK Lal <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/mycity/2015/11/10/kukur-tihar/" target="_blank">Kukur Tihar</a>, Gopen Rai

Festivals of sisterhood

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P59ri5M1KM&amp;feature=youtu.beTij has been called a festival of women, and indeed it is a time Nepali women let their hair down, dance their troubles away, visit their maternal homes and sing bittersweet songs of longing and separation. In times when violence against women, domestic violence and rape are seemingly on the rise, Tij has taken on an added role of social protest.Yet, critics say Tij is also seen as a festival that has entrenched woman’s secondary status in Nepali society. The ritual fast they are required to undertake ostensibly for the longevity of their husbands is singled out for special condemnation. And lately, Tij feasts and parties have become somewhat decadent and commercialised.Many, however, argue that the festival has nothing to do with men anyway, and women actually fast to emulate Shiva’s consort Parvati who fasted to rebel against gender discrimination even in heaven.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921b99c7e80680e03a0ebjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="964"/>“The qualities that Parvati embodies is being revered, not the person. At Tij, women aspire to emulate those qualities, not necessarily Parvati the goddess,” explains Nitya Pandey, a PhD student and teacher of literature who observes the festival.The way Tij was traditionally celebrated had a lot to do with women’s empowerment and freedom: they were free from housework and it was even a chance for them to pass disparaging comments about their husbands and marriage. Tij is a festival in which women infiltrate a patriarchal festival to subvert that very patriarchy.Indira Acharya Mishra has analysed Tij songs for her doctoral thesis, and says women used to mostly sing about how they did not get to eat good food, and how their in-laws did not let them celebrate Tij. Today, women sing about how much fun they have on Tij, and how they look forward to visiting their parents.“Traditional songs were sad and full of pathos, now they have become bolder and full of humour,” Mishra explains. “But the sense is the same: women use the songs to parody the patriarchy, and raise their voices for equality.”What has also changed is that Tij has become more secular, and more commercial, while identity has added a new significance to the festival. “Tij is a tradition of Brahmin Chhetri women, so they want to celebrate it as part of their identity,” says Mishra. “But some aspects of it are also seen as being disempowering, and modern women have removed the more regressive aspects of it.”Today, everyone is included in the merrymaking: schools celebrate Tij with children's mothers, offices and organisations hold Tij parties, and women of all ages eat and drink.“It is good to see women enjoying Tij as a celebration of womanhood, and I enjoy celebrating with them,” says Margaret Donahue, who has lived in Nepal for 40 years and has observed the transformation of Tij.There will always be criticism of Tij, but women seem inclined to ignore it and have a blast, and use the festival to take a jab at patriarchy.Tij this year falls on Wednesday, 12 September<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921bd9c7e80680e03a0ecjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2500" height="1667">

Parodying patriarchy at Tij

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

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

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

French citizen Louis arrived in Nepal for the first time earlier this year, planning to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-abcs-of-a-winter-trek-in-nepal">trek the Annapurna Circuit </a>before heading down to Bardia to hopefully catch a glimpse of some<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-counting-its-tigers"> tigers</a>. Before he began his journey from Besisahar, Louis (who only revealed his first name) had imagined breathing crisp mountain air, and following the melodious gurgle of the Marsyangdi.&nbsp; Instead, he had to breathe fumes and dust all the way to Chame. Louis says he masked his face with a handkerchief: “It was not what I expected, this is not right.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304080_f03fce1527cf8a63178e4e82589a1a7096c8cfa28893ca4a5f7fe82d91a6e38a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025080304080_f03fce1527cf8a63178e4e82589a1a7096c8cfa28893ca4a5f7fe82d91a6e38a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2419" height="1814" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails NT 1"> </figure>  Many other trekkers are similarly disappointed as roads have been built along what used to be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-walk-back-in-time-chandragiri-hatiban">walking trails</a>. Manang and Humla are the last remote regions in the Himalaya to be connected to the national road network. &nbsp;Construction of the 87km Besisahar-Manang road began in 1994, but was stalled during <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/14-years-after-conflict-no-closure-in-nepal">the Maoist conflic</a>t, and finally finished in 2012.&nbsp; Most of it has not yet been blacktopped, and sections have been carved out of vertical cliff faces, making them treacherous. But it has allowed road access to Manang, a journey that previously took a week on foot.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304084_32b3ca875a0df9f1dd42dbe915e6f6a2cd4f2e53f1cf2d3ee5cbdb3435905000.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025080304084_32b3ca875a0df9f1dd42dbe915e6f6a2cd4f2e53f1cf2d3ee5cbdb3435905000" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="1505" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails NT 1"> </figure>  While the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-road-out-of-nepal">road has improved access</a>, it has impacted on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/trekking-in-the-time-of-climate-change"> trekking tourism </a>— the mainstay of Manang’s economy. The number of tourists visiting the scenic valley behind the Annapurnas grew from 21,245 in 2023 to 30,866 in 2024. The Annapurna Circuit is known for unique sights like <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9194">Tilicho</a>, one of the highest lakes in the world, the Thorong La pass that connects Manang to Mustang, and the valley’s own rich cultural heritage. Thorong La at 5,416m is the highest hiking pass in the world, and was used by locals for trade with Mustang before it became a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/lift-restrictions-on-upper-mustang">popular trekking route</a>. &nbsp; “For guests, the excitement of reaching Thorong La is now overshadowed by their disappointment of having to journey through dusty roads to get there,” says Manang lodge-owner Ongma Gurung. “That is the complaint we get the most.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/tourism-that-treads-lightly-on-the-land">Local tourism </a>operators are trying to get the government to build alternative foot trails. But there have been delays due to a lack of budget.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080304084_c5f76e398182785bb17846a148e3ca89de5687b4623580f8e2d725a7a287edfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2025080304084_c5f76e398182785bb17846a148e3ca89de5687b4623580f8e2d725a7a287edfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="2419" height="1762" loading="lazy" alt="Manang trails"> </figure>  The Naso Rural Municipality has identified other routes along the Annapurna Circuit in Chyamche, Tal, and Khotro so trekkers can bypass heavy vehicles involved in the construction of the Manang-Marsyangdi Hydropower Project. “But the local government cannot do everything,” admits the chair Dhan Bahadur Gurung. “And for leaders in Kathmandu, Manang is out of sight and out of mind.” Munindra Jung Gurung represents Manang in the Gandaki Provincial Assembly, and says he has raised the issue in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-s-tourism-woes">Pokhara</a>. He is hopeful there will be a hearing. To be sure, the road is not all bad news. Locals benefit, the number of visitors has grown, and trekkers can now also save time and use it to explore <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5960">side valleys in Manang</a>, visiting the villages like Nar and Phu. Annapurna Conservation Area (ACA) chief Rabin Kadariya concedes that the road to Upper Manang was crucial to connect the remote region with the rest of Nepal, but adds: “We have built an alternative trail connecting Talgaun, and we will consult local communities about their priorities on other hiking trails.”&nbsp;

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