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

Pratibha Tuladhar

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Digitising the savant calligrapher

Chuden Kabimo is in Kathmandu to receive this year’s Madan Puraskar prize for his novel, <a href="https://thuprai.com/book/urmal/?srsltid=AfmBOopuAcN_Emi7s7ptdJNBJhP17OQEkWBwF2OjbkZik99xCWS4sqPn" target="_blank">उरमाल</a> that is set among the tea plantations and their workers in northeast India’s Dooar plains.&nbsp; The award ceremony was postponed due to Nepal's violent GenZ protests, and his trip had to overcome highways and bridges destroyed by this week’s heavy rains in the Darjeeling hills and across the border in Nepal.&nbsp; Kabimo’s previous work, <a href="https://thuprai.com/book/faatsung/?srsltid=AfmBOopwCankD0dycz4oef2BifQlIq1vWwHSawc33IPiBWExo_n8YAb3" target="_blank">फातसुङ</a> was the story of the Gorkhaland Movement in Darjeeling 30 years ago told through fictionlised characters and their friendships, their love for the land, and revolution. Song of the Soil is its English translation by Ajit Baral published in 2021, and there are also Hindi and Bengali translations.&nbsp; The Gorkhaland Movement sought to create a separate state for Nepali-speaking Indians of West Bengal. There is plenty of violence, arson, and young death in the book, and a poignant contemplation on the 8-9 September Gen Z protests in Nepal.&nbsp; The plot is structured as a story, inside of a story, inside of a story, and starts off as the narrator gets the bad news that his childhood friend Ripden was killed in a landslide. He heads back to the site, Malbung, where he was born.&nbsp; He reminisces about his days in school with the rebellious Ripden, who encouraged the narrator to skip school and led him on adventures instead. He remembers villagers who sold their farms for alcohol, and dedicated teachers who helped them dream of better lives.&nbsp; Ripden lives with his uncle. His mother died when he was four, and his father disappeared in the Movement. One day he hears that his father is in fact dead as well, and decides to run away to a village called Lolay. There the pair meet Nasim, who is involved in the Gorkhaland Movement as a child soldier.&nbsp; Chuden Kabimo is of the Lepcha community, a people fiercely proud of their identity, homeland, history, and myths. He weaves together the stories of the characters, detailing their motivation to rebel. ‘I may give up my life, I may give up my soul. But Gorkhaland, I will have anyhow,’ says one leader of the Movement.&nbsp; It is the story of all revolutions where young idealistic people join with the best of intentions, but things betray their initial hopes. The spirit of the revolution can get everyone to protest, even those who do not want to be so involved, but they get killed anyway. Much like what happened outside Parliament last month in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Others think of personal success through the movement, and dream of a day where even the pigs can eat rice and every house has a swimming pool. Others keep themselves going through with alcohol and remembering past, present, or potential lovers.&nbsp; Ajit Baral’s translation has short, crisp sentences that make the 200 pages move along at a fast clip. The sparse language allows the writer to recede to the background as the story unfolds by itself. &nbsp; Kabimo condenses love stories into a chapter or sometimes just a few paragraphs. This works because the story of the revolution must be at the centre, and all else is tangential. Characters are sometimes introduced only to be killed off quickly.&nbsp; Like in all revolutions, there are factions and they are fighting among themselves, against Communists, or against the police. Readers not familiar with Gorkhaland may find it difficult to keep track, but this also parallels the real confusion of a society in turmoil.&nbsp; Kabimo also tends to start his chapters with statements like ‘history is written by those who stumble in life’ which sounds better in Nepali, and something is lost in translation. &nbsp; Read with the recent Nepal protests in mind, there is almost a sense of relief that the fires that spread here burnt themselves out so quickly. But in Song of the Soil, the revolution is never-ending with villages and families living in terror and deprivation.&nbsp; It seems that the longer insurrections last, the more people die, and groups become divided making it easier to subvert the original goal of a revolution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251012051032_089e7a01ed5afdad35c7a298024e65893b8cf252eb2fce3b919e72c60a3c7a8f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251012051032_089e7a01ed5afdad35c7a298024e65893b8cf252eb2fce3b919e72c60a3c7a8f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Song of the soil NT"> </figure>  --- <h2>"I make sure I am always connected to the story"</h2> - Chuden Kabimo, the winner of this year's Madan Puraskar literary prize for the book Urmaal Nepali Times: Your journalism about the Gorkhaland Movement inspired your earlier novel, Faatsung. What was your process in learning about tea plantation workers for Urmaal? Chuden Kabimo: I had been reporting on the second Gorkhaland movement, so it was easy for me to write Faatsung. For Urmaal, I lived with the tea plantation community. I started work six months after Faatsung was published, heading to the Dooars and exploring it. I had gone with the intention of writing a story about child marriage in a community there.&nbsp; I talked to the locals and the workers, and the need to write Urmaal started pulling me. I would often think that I had enough material for my story, but then I would want to add certain elements, which kept me going back over the five years it took to write the book.&nbsp; How does all that information you gather develop into a storyline and characters?&nbsp; When I start the book I don’t know how the plot will start and end. I talk to many people from different backgrounds. Each person tends to introduce me to other people that I should speak to.&nbsp; I listen to their stories. As the stories start to fit together, I get a sense of the plot and that is where my characters come from. For a single character I need to bring together the stories of many people, maybe ten or twelve. It is not possible to base a character on a single individual all the time. I start where I want to, and as I keep writing the story slowly takes shape. I wrote what ended up becoming the last chapter for Urmaal, first.&nbsp; What about your actual writing process? I wake up early in the morning, then I either go cycling or play football. Then I get back and &nbsp;sit at my computer for sometimes two hours. I sometimes write only two lines in the two hours, sometimes I can write five hundred words. I don’t set a word count for myself. I cannot write a lot at once, I am a slow writer, but I strongly believe that you have to write daily.&nbsp; When you do not write daily, especially for a novel, you tend to lose the connection to the story. I just make sure that I am always connected to the story, which helps me always think about it even when I am on the bus or something.&nbsp; What does winning the Madan Puraskar mean to you?&nbsp; I feel that the Madan Puraskar is the biggest prize in Nepali literature, so it is a source of great pride for me.&nbsp; When I wrote my first book, I hadn’t thought of winning any prizes. When I wrote Faatsung I was thinking much more of Kalimpong and Darjeeling. What Faatsung did for me was make me recognised. A lot of people in Nepal liked it too. How to outdo Faatsung was a challenge for me when I wrote Urmaal. After the book was published, it was getting some good reviews but I didn’t expect it to win the Madan Puraskar. I was at home reading in Siliguri when I got the news.&nbsp; For other awards, like the JCB, they had contacted me to tell me that I had been shortlisted or that I won, but to not reveal it to anyone. It was the opposite with the Madan Puraskar. I was notified via Facebook!&nbsp; It was a unique type of happiness. It is also great motivation for me to work on my third novel. Perhaps I will do something about Sikkim, moving away from Gorkhaland.&nbsp; How does it feel being recognised in Nepal? Six years ago, readers in Nepal did not know who I was. I was new to Nepal and Nepal was new to me. I grew up in rural Kalimpong, and we only had a radio for entertainment. On the radio, we used to listen to Nepali programs, which developed an emotional attachment to the country.&nbsp; I came to Kathmandu for the first time for Faatsung, and it was a lot of fun seeing the places that I had heard about on the radio. The journey after that, of the love the readers have shown for the book and now the prize, has been very meaningful.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251012051032_98bbbef41bc3ca68f0e8c84edd40f7e6c5bd012186e09a08b4ed9631fd9a009b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251012051032_98bbbef41bc3ca68f0e8c84edd40f7e6c5bd012186e09a08b4ed9631fd9a009b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Urmaal NT"> </figure>

Vishad Raj Onta

Revolution song

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209f39c7e80680e0b5572jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="507" height="600"/><figcaption>Author Buddhisagar. Photo: BUDDHISAGAR/FACEBOOK</figcaption></figure>Buddhisagar’s novel Karnali Blues starts with a father, who says after seeing his newborn son for the first time, “He has a mole on the sole of his foot, so he will have to walk a lot but he won’t go off anywhere and leave us.”His mother then asks the baby, “Will you go off and leave us when you’re big?”A statement from one parent, a question from the other.In a Thamel restaurant on a sunny winter afternoon, Buddhisagar walks in wearing a brick-orange jumper and black pants, looking as if he just returned from a track meet-and-greet. He apologises for being late. “I walk everywhere,” he offers as an explanation.He does not look like any of the pictures on the Internet, those that make him out to be larger-than-life celebrated Nepali author. Maybe it is because he is not expecting to be photographed.Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/former-gurkha-soldier-turns-author/">Former Gurkha soldier turns authors</a>, Chun Bahadur GurungThis is the real Buddhisagar, in his most natural state. Perhaps this is how he looks writing in his own company, while sipping tea from a local vendor and building stories out of childhood nostalgia.Like Brisha Bahadur in Karnali Blues, Buddhisagar was also born in Matera, and brought up in Katasé and Kalikot. Like the main character of his novel, he was not academically gifted. But unlike his fictional counterpart, he was rather shy, Buddhisagar  confesses. So the prolific author most likely did not go around looking for mischief or drawing moustaches on pictures he found around the house.Many call Karnali Blues an autobiographical fiction. “Some parts of the beginning of the novel are real,” the author admits.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209f59c7e80680e0b5573jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="725" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The inspiration for the novel came in a hospital, a place of both birth and death. “My father was sick and like in the novel, he was in Kohalpur. He died later, from brain hemorrhage as well,” he says.But Buddhisagar does not think he is our protagonist. He explains, “A writer is never one character. They are inside the minds of young and old, of men and women - they are everywhere in fragments. There are some parts of me in Brisha Bahadur. There are some parts of my mother and father in him as well. He is not all me.”After a pause, he adds, “Just look at the poems he writes. If he was me, he perhaps could have written them better.”There is also the juxtaposition in the book between the two Harsha Bahadurs — one is the breadwinner of the family and the other lies paralysed in a hospital bed.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-literatures-thulnani-toya-gurung/">Toya Gurung: Nepali literature’s Thulnani</a>, Muna GurungThen, there are the two Brisha Bahadur: the child who looks up to his father, and the youth who still does so even as the father lies on his deathbed.Father and son oscillate between having to give and receive care to one another. There is also the pacing of the past and the present in the chapters of the novel. The present moves in a numbingly slow pace as the human mind goes through moments rejecting death, and yet accepting the hopelessness enveloping it whereas the past rushes up to the narrator like a deadly current in a moody river that catches up to those who do not want to be caught.“What matters the most to me is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/writing-about-nepal-from-afar/">authenticity</a>,” Buddhisagar says,  sipping on a single-shot Americano. “Regardless of whether a story is autobiographical or not, the readers must think that the events happening in the story can actually happen in reality.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209f89c7e80680e0b5574jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1222" height="900">Karnali Blues tells us about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-nepali-literature-to-the-world/">people and places that age</a> through immaculately detailed visuals of the great river’s tributaries weaving themselves into the story.Villages and towns also have characters and stories to tell. A tea shop by the river turns into a small market. The river becomes a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-the-bagmati-civilisation-is-becoming-uncivilised/">dumping site to accommodate modernisation</a>. The cattle get sick. A new bridge opens up a nearby town, and its population migrates, hoping for a better future.The village dries up, but the rivers stay polluted. There is death and abandonment, but even if one life ends, the other has to move forward. The title is apt, there is no other place to feel blue and desolate than in the Karnali.“The back-and-forth style of storytelling in Karnali Blues came from those hospital nights with my father,” Buddhisagar says, this time holding a freshly-lit cigarette between his fingers. “You start by reading about an unknown person, sick and on his deathbed,  and slowly, you walk along the story with him. Eventually, the readers get to know him and so when the end comes, it creates an emotional response.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-nepali-literature-to-the-world/">Taking Nepali literature to the world</a>, Ashish DhakalBecause we spend 400 pages with Harsha Bahadur, we know that he is a constantly caring patriarch whose love for blue waistcoats is immeasurable. We also know that Brisha Bahadur’s nameless mother is constantly forgiving. Despite being a troublemaker, we still adore Brisha Bahadur’s predilection for an expensive bicycle, or a leather jacket. His love for tea makes him the most relatable Nepali on earth. And thus we come to care for all of them.“Since I spent many years writing the novel, it opened a whole new world for me,” Buddhisagar says, blowing out blue smoke through his nostrils.It has been 12 years since he came out, and readers have come to love the world he created as well. It has now found new visitors with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/taking-nepali-literature-to-the-world/">Michael Hutt’s English translation</a> (see above).<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101124/637209fb9c7e80680e0b5575jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1080" height="792"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Language bridges distance, and so when asked whether he wishes to change the way he had written Karnali Blues, especially now that he has become a father himself, he shakes his head.“I don’t have any regrets about my past work. Whatever I had felt while writing the book has dissipated. If I read it now, I will do it as a reader,” says Buddisagar. “We are fathers of a different era. I don’t feel the need to change the way I have written about fatherhood in this novel.”Perhaps it is not Buddhisagar we should be looking for in our narrator, rather it is us readers that find ourselves in his characters. The way we were as children, the kind of parents we want to become.Maybe Buddhisagar has expertly hidden himself somewhere within lines like these in Hutt’s translation: “Once Father set out, he never looked back. He used to say, ‘If you turn to look back, your attachments will trap you and you won’t be able to go.’”Buddhisagar is working on his third novel. The English translation of Karnali Blues translated Michael Hutt is available in Kathmandu bookshops. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-story-of-books-in-nepal/">The story of books in Nepal</a>, Ashish Dhakal

The Man from Karnali

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8e69c7e80680e092e6ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: ROSE SCHWIETZ</figcaption></figure>When a woman carries herself around in the streets or even at her workplace or her home, she is constantly hounded by the anxiety of protecting herself. The fear for safety has been heightened with the series of cases of rape reported over the years, not to mention impunity of the assailants.Actors’ Studio’s performance of Rapemachine offered a final sobering note at Fine Print Fever Literature Festival at the Unnati Cultural Village last week.Directed by Suraj Malla, the play is stirred by the rape and murder of Nirmala Panta. It begins with three women in white kurta onstage, gazing silently outward. Suddenly, three men appear from the audience, stalk through the crowd, and shine flashlights at their faces.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8e99c7e80680e092e6bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">The women begin a movement sequence representing youth, learning, and beauty, presenting  a repeat of their innocence, over and over. Ranjana Bhattarai plays hopscotch, Hena Nagarkoti practices her alphabet, while Anu Dahal admires herself in a mirror.The men join the sequence, bringing actions of machinery, brute force, and vice: Suraj Malla operates a large vehicle. Pranav ­­­­­­­­­­­­KC digs piles of dirt, and Aashish Shrestha blows cigarette smoke at the audience. This codified mirror of society recycles itself until someone discovers an abandoned shoe – evidence of an assault.The individual characters become a village chorus and shout in unison: “छोटो छोटो लुगा लाएपछि यस्तै हुन्छ, यस्तै हुन्छ”, this is what happens when you wear short skirts. Accusations abound, but mirroring a real society, everyone returns to their individual cyclical actions— we protest, investigate, and accuse, then we return to ‘normal’.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8ec9c7e80680e092e6cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Rapemachine pushes this idea further. When the performers settle into their repetitive actions, another piece of clothing is found. Another. And another. Each time, the onstage society reacts with accusations, and each time they attempt to return to normal.The repetitive actions lull the audience into uncomfortable resignation: What can be done when the cycle seems bound to repeat itself indefinitely?Rather than offer solutions, Rapemachine emphasises that lack of action leads to continued devolvement. The male characters become a team of senseless monsters, cleverly staging violence that represents rape and murder to the audience.Effective use of items like tika vermillion powder, lollipops, and confetti, create a sense of affinity and loss we experience when reading about Nirmala’s case. Although it is clearly symbolic, watching the violence unfold leaves the audience in pin-drop, the silence speaking volumes about the impact.What the performance lacks in solutions, it makes up for in conversation opportunities. The performers’ intensity and vulnerability – particularly the women’s – leaves the audience in shock, stirring them towards dialogue. With sexual violence and victim-blaming in every corner of our world, these artistic conversations continue to be necessary.The Fine Print Fever Literature Festival was held at the Unnati Cultural Village on 12-13 March in Nawalparasi. The event, hosted by the Chaudhary Group stirred conversations around Nepal’s culture and art.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8ee9c7e80680e092e6djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111156/636cd8f19c7e80680e092e6ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960">The FinePrint Fever Festival also featured conversations around books, with Amar Neupane, Asim Sagar, and political conversations with the likes of Gagan Thapa, Rabindra Mishra. Actors Rajesh Hamal and Manisha Koirala were crowd pullers, with Koirala discussing Jijibisa, a translation of her book Healed, which maps her life’s journey as she batted and beat cancer.The authors gave well-attended talks about their work and relevant life experiences. The event also provided space for conversation with Niranjan Kunwar of Between Queens and the Cities, fame, a frank discussion of LGBTQ+ experiences, a pressing but under-discussed current issue.Unnati Cultural Village is a Chaudhary Foundation initiative, which has been captioned as ‘the prospect of the multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic and diverse geography of Nepal’. The venue is a resort-cum-art center, featuring low-hanging mango trees and meandering footpaths.The design, inspired by Tharu architecture, motifs, and sketches, crafted by the expert hands of local Tharu artisans Nanu Maya Mahato, Khem Kumari Mahato, Sundar Kumari Chaudhary and Durga Mahato. Ceramicist, Gopal Kalapremi, also provided training to local artists under a community initiative at the centre.The venue is also home to a Craft Museum and an artifact museum called Sampada Art Gallery, featuring contemporary Nepali artists, Rangmanch Amphitheatre, an open-air performance space and Atelier, artist studio spaces.Anusuya Gurung, one of the curators of the craft museum describes the centre as an educational opportunity to showcase the historical evolution of Nepal through craft and artisans. The museum begins with mythological references, and the times when craft existed as utility for agriculture, weaponry and ritual.It then moves into the medieval age, when craft transitions into art and architecture, with evidence of new materials like stone and metal. The third section shows modern and contemporary artifacts, and like the present time, is a ‘living work-in-progress’ with contemporary art pieces from pioneers in their artistry.

New venue showcasing Nepali society, literature and art

<figure><img width="1604" height="888" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba69e9c7e80680e073733jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Madhav Prasad Ghimire 1919-2020. Illustration: BHANU BHATTARAI</figcaption></figure>When national poet laureate Madhav Prasad Ghimire died on Tuesday 18 August at the age of 101, it marked the end of an era in not just Nepali literature, but in Nepal’s nationhood.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Class,307" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Class,307&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1597915531930000&amp;usg=AFQjCNExUAst_dTstdRKeq3qydRD79ghhA">Ghimire embodied the Nepali soul</a> in prolific poetry, many of which were rousing enough to be turned into national anthems. They resonated with love for country and its landscape, rich descriptions of mountains and valleys, rivers and forests. He wrote about the nurturing power of nature, observing and describing creation in all its spectacular glory and diversity.Born in the village of Pustun near Bahun Danda of Lamjung district, Ghimire was raised below Himalchuli, a mountain that crops up over and over again in his poetry. He grew up grazing goats in the high pastures, roamed forests picking wild berries, the hum of the Marsyangdi River constantly flowing through his mind – sadly whispering in winter, gurgling with happiness in the spring thaw, wild and angry in the monsoon.He ran away from home at age 12, stealing some money from the family coffers, so he could get a better education in Kathmandu – then known as ‘Nepal’. He got his college degree in Banaras, where many educated Nepalis sent their children in the Rana days when schooling was frowned upon by the state.Many of Ghimire’s poems have been rendered into song by Nepal’s famous musicians like Narayan Gopal and <a style="font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xt_IcS8sYfk">Ambar Gurung,</a> and his plays have been performed for decades in Nepal’s theatres. Generations of Nepali children have grown up memorising his <a style="font-size: 16px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfnpQX94NOY">'Gaunchha geeta Nepali...'</a>Ghimire has said he was always inspired by Nepal’s nature, and believed in its healing powers. This intimacy with the land and its inhabitants is a constant refrain in all his works. There were critics: he was deemed to be too close to the Panchayat rulers, helping Queen Aishwarya with her poetry (some say he even ghost wrote some of them), supporting King Gyanendra’s coup in 2005.Lately, some labeled him with retroactive correctness, as a proponent of a unitary Nepal. He was unapologetic about this, but also celebrated in his poetry the ethno-linguistic rainbows that make Nepal Nepal.He tread lightly through life, never taking himself too seriously, and did not have time for cynics and people with strong, too rigid, convictions. He made a distinction in his poetry between flag-waving nationalism and patriotism. And along with his deep affinity for this land, he had a special place in his heart for his birthplace in Lamjung. It became a matter of great regret for him that he could not go back more often in later years.His observational skills were phenomenal, using simple similes and rustic colloquialism to describe in the minutest detail the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKGlnbiQ0iA">sound of night rain on blades of corn during the monsoon</a>, Himalchuli glistening like a diamond in the moonlight, clouds massing up against the dazzling Himalayan sky, the slanting golden sun after a shower.Ghimire had vowed to finish his poetry epic Ritmbhara before he died. He did indeed finish it, working on it till he became frail. The poet was cremated in the midst of a spreading pandemic on Wednesday morning. He leaves behind a rich legacy of words and music, many of which are available in reprints of his books and in songs on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR_Z58RQiJA">YouTube channels.</a> <figure><img width="800" height="600" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6a19c7e80680e073734jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Madhav Prasad Ghimire with Satyamohan Joshi last year, the two Nepali centenarian littérateurs. “There is only me left,” Joshi said on Wednesday, on hearing of Ghimire’s passing.</figcaption></figure>One of his contemporaries and fellow centenarian is Satyamohan Joshi, who said upon learning of his friend’s passing: “There were two of us in Nepal’s literature scene who were older than 100. Now there is only me left. Maybe it is my turn next.”Ghimire wrote about death with acceptance, almost embracing it, using the power of verse to strip away the dread associated with a final departure. His poem <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSWFVJBbJJQ">Gauri, written in the traditional chhanda melody,</a> is a melancholic masterpiece about losing his first wife. One of his most famous poems is about dreaming that he was dead, and which was later turned into <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00FNkUH6Srk">a popular song by Narayan Gopal.</a>As death approached in recent years, he wrote openly about his own impending demise and about how he wanted to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zzox7qtB_3o">pass on like the night jasmine</a>, silently falling from the tree in the morning to spread its scent among those left behind. <img width="2000" height="1333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6a39c7e80680e073735jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figure><img width="2000" height="1333" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6a69c7e80680e073736jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption></figcaption></figure>               Madhav Prasad Ghimire was cremated with state honours at Pashupati on Wednesday morning.

Poet of the Nepali soul

Muna Gurung

Bimala Tumkhewa: Putting kinema on the map of Nepal

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101132/636b73dd9c7e80680e062361jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1095"/>If you like Nepali folk songs, you must have come across a hirsute man on Youtube, singing old, familiar songs with an unusual accent and lilt. The backdrops to the music videos are always mountains wrapped in clouds and B rolls of smiling Nepali children. The singer strums his ukulele gently, and through melancholy spreads calmness and positivity.This is Arko Mukhaerjee, a Bengali who grew up around Darjeeling, walking the mountains and dales on the other side of the border from Ilam and Sandakphu. The hills were alive with Nepali folk music, and he grew up steeped in its melody and beat.“As a boy, I hiked along the border with Nepal and have done the Singalila trek, walking up to the base of Kangchenjunga many times,” recalls Mukhaerjee, who has fond memories of tongba and sukuti sessions with Nepali-speaking friends who remain his best friends. He came to understand the difference between dai (brother) and daju (respected brother). It helped that his name ‘Arko’ (‘sun’ in Bengali) means ‘next’ or ‘another’ in Nepali, an icebreaker that is still the subject of endless jokes.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=40220&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Moving songs from the boys next door</a>, Sewa Bhattaraihttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EK0jZL0SlXcMukhaerjee was 11 when he heard his first Nepali folk song, Resham Firiri, from his trekking guide Arjun Sherpa. The whole village of Mane Bhanjyang, where the India-Nepal border runs through a house, would shut down for evenings of song and merriment, and people would dance to Mohani Lagla Hai and Tulsi Aagan ma Ropaunla. Because of Mukhaerjee’s background in Bengali music, it was easy for him to learn the songs from Sherpa.“My family came over to West Bengal from East Bengal, and as refugees we did not have much,” he relates. “Families like ours hold on to the intangible heritage, which is all they bring with them. In my family that heritage was classical music.”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0bJkyoGHd8But Mukhaerjee rebelled against the regimented nature of the classical tradition and turned to exploring and experimenting with melodies that touched his soul. He gave up formal training and learnt music by jamming and practicing. Today, he performs folk music in more than 20 languages and plays five different folk instruments, but he keeps coming back to Nepali music.Mukhaerjee’s connection to Nepal was forged in the Darjeeling mountains, through his friendship with Nepali-speaking Indians who sang songs of migration and their motherland. “Nepali music contains traces of the places Nepalis have been – Burma, Malaya, fighting world wars,” says Mukhaerjee. “Some Nepali musical instruments are similar to those found in Mongolia or Afghanistan, and there are also some harmonic aspects from British influence on Rana music.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101132/636b73e19c7e80680e062362jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="974">And then there are the characteristics of Nepali music that are typical of mountain music around the world: the use of more major notes and fewer minor notes, as with Irish, Mongolian, South American, and bluegrass music.Among Nepali singers, Mukhaerjee is fond of Jhalakman Gandharva, the pioneering minstrel. He first heard a Gandharva song on a taxi ride from Tribuvan International Airport to Thamel. “Jhalakman’s voice is unique not just in Nepal but in the whole world,” he says. “When you sing to the accompaniment of a single instrument for many years, your voice automatically follows the instrument. Jhalakman sang with the sarangi, and his voice had acquired some micro tonal aspects of the sarangi which are impossible to replicate.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/eastern-melodies-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Eastern melodies in Kathmandu</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWhile in Pokhara to perform in January, Mukhaerjee visited Batule Chaur, the historical home of the Gandharvas, and says it was an emotional moment. “It gave me goose bumps,” he says.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3r6bDmdNl_kMukhaerjee has sung many of Jhalakman’s songs, including Timro nai Maya, Allare Nani Kesi, and Bala Joban. He understands some of the lyrics, but gets a native speaker to transcribe the correct pronunciation. Ultimately, though, what matters to him is the feeling that the music inspires. Mukhaerjee recently discovered Mitrasen Thapa, and has started to upload videos of his renditions of the master’s songs.“When I sing to the Nepali communities in India, everyone sings along. That is so rare. You just forget all intellectual abstractions and enjoy the emotion the songs bring out,” says Mukhaerjee. “My objective in performing Nepali music is to spread love and connect people.”

Arko, the Nepali minstrel from Bengal

<figure><img width="2880" height="2048" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151128/636a679a9c7e80680e0599e7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SAKINA ABIDI</figcaption></figure>When asked how he balances writing about Kathmandu <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Kathmandu-wont-let-go-of-me-samrat-upadhyay,3649">while living abroad</a>, <a href=":/archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=17243#.XgRLnpP7TOR">Samrat Upadhyay</a> asks: “What do we mean by authenticity? According to whom?”“I come here often enough,” he says. “I did spend my formative years here. I understand the ubiquitous Nepali character, if there is one. Authenticity is such a curious term that implies there is like this one Nepali culture.”Upadhyay arrives at Himalayan Java in Thamel for the interview nursing a cold, a day after an award ceremony for a <a href="https://lalitmag.com/writing-nepal-2019-a-short-story-contest/%5d">short story contest of La.Lit</a> magazine, where Upadhyay was the sole judge.Popularly known as the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12241#.XgRCZpP7TOR">first Nepali-born writer to be published in the United States</a>, Upadhyay is Nepal’s most accomplished English language novelist, with seven books and various accolades.When Upadhyay started out, there were few people in Nepal writing in English. “There was no sense of community. There was nothing like La.Lit or <a href="http://qcbookshop.com/">Quixote's Cove</a>.” Now, he says, there are not just more people writing, but more people serious about writing – going on retreats, winning fellowships and getting published both here and abroad.We circle back to his depiction of Nepal and if he is afraid of missing something when he is away. “I don’t mean to say I don’t need to keep up at all, as if Nepal has remained ossified,” he adds, “but I am also not walking around with some mental diary saying ‘Okay, let me figure out what has changed and what has not.’ I just absorb things.” <figure><img width="995" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151128/636a679d9c7e80680e0599e8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Like many others who write about their home countries in English, Upadhyay is often criticised for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4483#.XgRLnpP7TOR">catering to a western audience</a>. His writing has also been characterised as one that <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4393#.XgRCT5P7TOR">injects sex where it doesn’t belong</a>, with readers <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4321#.XgRNHpP7TOQ">falling on both sides of the critique</a>.For his part, Upadhyay seems more concerned about <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4924#.XgRLn5P7TOR">pushing past what is publicly shunned</a> in what he considers traditional culture. He says La.Lit’s Writing Nepal 2019 shortlist had two stories that explicitly explored sexual boundaries: “People are becoming braver and bolder, expanding the notion of what it means to be Nepali.”Transcending language is an issue too. Writers try to overcome the barrier in their own way, whether it’s by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/debut-novelist-lets-afghans-speak-for-themselves/">publishing an entire chapter in their native script</a> or by approximating their language’s syntax quite literally into English.“That’s the craft of writing for those of us who write in English about a landscape where the majority of the people are not speaking English constantly,” Upadhyay says. “It is kind of a judicious thing you do. I believe language is fairly malleable.”It may depend on your command over your language, but it also speaks to who your intended readership is. Upadhyay waves off pages of Nepali dialogue with footnotes (‘It’s so passé’) describing it as something that will not reach a wider audience. On the other hand, he does not have his work translated into Nepali – although he has received, and rejected, samples by other people, yet found his own attempt at translating to take too long.  “I thought, ‘Do I want to spend like two years translating my own work or do I want to spend two years writing a new novel? Which would be more pleasurable for me?’ The answer was obvious.”His latest novel? “It’s still a work in progress,” says Samrat Upadhyay, “I am working on, I guess you could call it some type of a dystopian novel set in Nepal … Not full fantasy. It has strange moments, which I have enjoyed writing.”

Writing about Nepal from afar

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151120/636a66419c7e80680e05996fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1046"/><figcaption>Photo: NEPAL LITERATURE FESTIVAL</figcaption></figure>The <a href="http://nepalliteraturefestival.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal Literature Festival</a> (NLF) has expanded in scope and content since it started eight years ago, and the 2019 edition this weekend will bring even more <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2016/02/02/getting-to-the-heart-of-the-story/comment-page-1/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">international authors</a> to Pokhara.Over 35 sessions feature more than 70 writers and public personalities, who will discuss a host of issues, from writing and regional literature to conservation and gender. Since 2011 the festival has hosted international writers like Muhamed Haneef and Shobhaa De along with the entire spectrum of literature in Nepali and indigenous languages.As the space for literary and artistic expression and critical commentary shrinks across South Asia, Nepal remains a bastion of free speech. This year, civil society activist Devendra Raj Pandey will deliver a keynote on Democratic Development and Public Accountability.The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/2019-shortlist-announced-for-dsc-prize/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">prestigious DSC Prize</a>, awarded for fiction from South Asia, will be announced at NLF this year. (See box) Some of the shortlisted authors and jury members of the DSC will also participate in panel discussions, at a time of growing regional tensions and intolerance towards free expression."This year we were particular about giving space to new and unheard of voices. We are excited about the diverse topics and list of people that we were able to line up," says <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Nepal-literature-festival-pokhara,2819">festival director Ajit Baral</a>.NLF also offers plenty of commentaries on current social issues. Sportswomen <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/homemaker-and-bodybuilder,3445" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nanita Maharjan</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/mira-rai-racing-to-help-other-runners/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Mira Rai</a> will be reflecting on Nepal's recent successes at the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/south-asian-games-recap-10-december/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">South Asian Games</a>, in the context of the rise of women in sports. Dalit activist Aahuti will present a commentary on Nepal's social structure, while <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/miss-nepals-mission/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Miss Nepal Shrinkhala Khatiwada</a> will portray her vision of a dream Nepal in a discussion on menstrual taboos with journalist Menuka Dhungana from Achham and Mohna Ansari.Besides social issues, the festival also features literary topics, including the essay, the poem, the short story, jail literature and children's literature. Populism versus art in folk songs is also in the spotlight.The festival also includes lighthearted entertainment with a session of ghazal recitations, and ends with a spiritual and philosophical lecture by Saurabh about Nepal's rich civilisations.IME Nepal Literature FestivalTal Barahi Chok, Lakeside, Pokhara13-16 December<h2>DSC Prize Announcement</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151120/636a66449c7e80680e059970jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3762" height="2700">The $25,000 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/dsc-prize-in-pokhara-on-16-december/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">DSC Prize for South Asian Literature</a> is awarded to one novel about South Asia, and is presented in a different city every year. This year, six writers are on the shortlist, four of Indian and one each of Pakistani and Afghan origin. The prize announcement will conclude the festival.5-6PM, 16 Dec<h2>Notable sessions for international audiences</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151120/636a66469c7e80680e059971jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1796" height="887">Gunpowder in the airWith Manoranjan ByapariThe pioneer Bengali writer Manoranjan Byapari became a sensation because of his working-class background and lack of formal education. Scholar Dinesh Kafle will talk to the dalit activist and former rickshaw puller about caste and privilege, and how these inform writing in South Asia.Kabi Shiromani Lekhnathh Hall3-4PM, 14 DecWriting home and the homelandWith Jamil Jan KochaiJamil Jan Kochai, an American of Afghan origin, was born in a refugee camp. He writes about the turbulent times that Afghanistan has gone through. Poet Itisha Giri will chat with Kochai about using the homeland in a novel.Ali Miya Hall4-5PM, 14 DecPowering sustainablyWith Kulman Ghising, Soma Dutta, Priyantha WijayatungaAs Nepal’s energy needs grow and the climate crisis deepens, how do we balance the two? Journalist Rupak Sharma will engage panellists Kulman Ghising of the Nepal Electricity Authority and energy experts Soma Dutta and Priyantha Wijayatunga.Kabi Shiromani Lekhnathh Hall11-12AM, 15 DecTranslating South AsiaWith Arunava Sinha, Rifat Munim, Carmen WickramagamageMost South Asian authors still write in regional languages, but awards, recognition and sales happen in English. Writer Amish Mulmi will discuss these issues with translators Arunava Sinha, Rifat Munim and Carmen Wickramagamage.Ali Miya Hall2-3PM, 15 DecWriting in the age of populismIs literary writing getting lost in the age of click-bait? Writer Anagha Neelkantan will discuss with writers Jeremy Tambling, Harish Nambiar and Jamil Jan Kochai how to keep the literary spirit up, against market demands of saleable content.Kabi Shiromani Lekhnathh Hall4-5PM, 15 DecNepal in the international mediaWith Sumnina Udas, Deepak Adhikari, Rajneesh BhandariWith the rise of Nepali journalists in international media, Nepal is no longer seen only through the western lens. How does this define Nepal today? AFP journalist Paavan Mathema talks to former CNN journalist Sumnima Udas and freelance reporters Deepak Adhikari and Rajneesh Bhandari.Paavan MathemaKabi Shiromani Lekhnathh hall12-1PM, 16 DecEnglish and vernacular literatures in South AsiaThough writing in English brings more worldwide recognition to South Asian writers, it also comes at the expense of vernacular literatures. Writer and literature teacher Sanjeev Uprety discusses this dilemma with teacher and literature theorist Harish Trivedi, also a jury member of DSC this year.Kabi Shiromani Lekhnathh hall1-2PM, 16 DecWriting the pastThe themes of Amitabha Bagchi's novels about India's recent past echo around South Asia. Writer Ajapa Sharma talks to Bagchi about the common heritage of South Asians and how to go about excavating the past in literature.Ali Miya hall2-3PM, 16 Dec

Nepal (and international) Literature Festival

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151120/636a65e79c7e80680e059950jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="557" height="438"/>On the morning of 31 October 1954, 29-year-old William J Burke stepped on a red-gold carpet of fallen maple leaves outside his home as he made his way to the nearest port where his family and friends had gathered to bid him farewell on his journey to faraway India.None of them, not even the young easy-going Burke waving from the ship's deck would have guess that he would never return to his native Canada. Or, that he would go on to devote his life to a language few then had heard about – Nepali.Born in 1925, Burke decided to become a Jesuit when he was just 15. Eight years later, he set off to Montreal to study philosophy, graduated and set off for North Bengal, a mission first started by Belgian Christians in 1888.After sailing for seven weeks to Calcutta, and travelling overland, Burke reached Saint Joseph School in Northpoint, Darjeeling a day before Christmas. Within a week he was enrolled for Nepali language classes at St Mary's in Kurseong, and within few months he was teaching Nepali to other students. He also continued his theology lessons and attained priesthood in 1959.Between 1960-61, Burke worked with renowned Hindi language scholar and lexicographer Fr Kamil Bulke, who seems to have inspired in the Canadian priest his passion for Nepali language.Under Bulke’s tutelage, Burke quickly learned Hindi and was able to tutor in Hindi-medium schools. But he felt he lacked the basic knowledge of pedagogy and at the age of 38 went back to school for BEd in Kolkata. By the time he was 55, Burke had also mastered Bengali, and became the principal of Saint Roberts School.In 1990 Burke's desire to work on a Nepali corpus finally took shape, culminating in Sahi Sabda (The Right Word) which later won him the prestigious Madan Puraskar. "We have to address the young generation with the right words so that Nepali culture and language thrive,” said Burke during his acceptance speech in Kathmandu in 2014.In 2006 he published English-Nepali book Ukhaanharu Ajaka ka Nimti (Idioms for Today) in collaboration with P K Chettri. "Even if Burke was not Nepali, he never considered the Nepali language not his own, which is why his work primarily focused bringing life to a language by documenting its usage,” recalls Kamal Regmi, a teacher at St Joseph.Burke is also credited with completing what is now known as the ‘Red Bible’ when Fr Francis Farell died while working on a Nepali catholic bible. The book was published in 1999.Back in the day when the principal of Darjeeling's St Roberts High School Father John Pindergast went to Canada to give talks, the young Burke was responsible for setting up the projector during the lectures. When he was late Pindergast would ask him to set up the slides quickly. "Chito chito" was the first Nepali world Burke learned while still in Canada.The word pretty much sums up his life as well. He learnt languages quickly, and undertook many projects. On 29 November, after a full life, William J Burke has a stroke in Darjeeling and died a few days later at age 94.The Canadian Jesuit was as much a campaigner for the Nepali language as he was a missionary. A true tribute to him would be for the Nepali-speaking world to be inspired by his life.

Canadian's missionary zeal for Nepali

In the very first page of the first chapter of Nepal 2043: The Road to Prosperity are two maps. The first places Nepal right at the epicentre of Asia, and in the second the Kathmandu is at exactly the midpoint between Mumbai and Beijing. With his trademark optimism, author Sujeev Shakya says Nepal is not land-locked but land-linked to three billion people in China and India. We just need those two economic engines to pull us in the same direction. ‘With China and India becoming the two largest economies in the world in the next two decades … Nepal is the most valuable piece of real estate in the world,’ Shakya writes. For one thing, Nepal does not look beyond India and China for tourism — with the right policies it can attract millions of tourists just from those two countries. Nepal is set to graduate from a low- to a middle-income country by 2026 and to a high-income country in 2043 — hence the name of the book. The year 2043 in the Bikram Sambat calendar is also 2100 — a new Nepali century. The book delves into the past, present and future of Nepal and analyses enablers including hydropower, a fundamental transformation of which will drive the 2043 goal. The commoditisation of electricity will be the biggest transformation. Nepal can deploy ‘Cyber Gurkhas’ to attract foreign investors with the management of data centres with climate friendly renewable energy. Access to technology such as precision agriculture, a data-driven approach to farming to improve food production, reduce environmental impact and enhance profitability could be Nepal’s strategy into 2043 and beyond. ‘Earlier, we needed ploughs and strong hands in agriculture. Now, you need a computer and strong fingers,” Shakya writes, citing a neighbour’s son who inspects his crops from drone cameras. A farmer in an Ilam teashop tells the author he asks AI questions in Nepali, and it answers promptly. The biggest enabler of all is Nepal’s young demography with 62% of the population in the active 15-60 age bracket, while 28% are younger than 14. Nepal’s dependency ratio has dropped to the lowest in history with 100 Nepalis having to support 62 dependents. But this demographic dividend window is closing. Nepal’s total fertility rate declined from 2.62% in 1981 to 0.92% in 2021 — below replacement level. We have less than 30 years left to make the best use of the youth, many of whom are currently studying and working abroad. Nepal’s biggest resource, therefore, is its diaspora spread across the world who send home $20 billion a year. Migration is not just a necessity but an aspiration for many Nepalis, and they are an important source of contacts, investment and soft power. This young and educated group has taken advantage of connectivity and digitisation in all arenas of national life. TikTok and Instagram have become e-commerce platforms, or mobile app-riven digital services. Nepal’s software companies exported over $1 billion worth of IT products last year. Next we need a change in the bureaucratic mindset to eliminate paper and manual processes, which would also contribute to reducing corruption. Shakya comes up with many revelations: 81% of Nepalis live in houses they own, much higher than most other South Asian countries which means higher disposable income. Nepal has the highest tax-to-GDP ratio in South Asia. The banking sector is twice the size of Bangladesh despite Nepal having just one-fifth of its population. In 2021, 12.62% of the population had demat accounts in Nepal, while India had only 5.32%. For every five male investors, there are four women in Nepal while it is 10:1 in India. With such figures and prospects, how come Nepal just went through a violent uprising that took the shortest time to topple a democratically-elected government in modern history? One early chapter of 2043 is actually dedicated to how Nepalis have always thrived on chaos. When people faced up to 20 hours of power cuts a day, people worked around the load-shedding schedule, woke up at ungodly hours to cook and stock up on inverters. They did not put up a fight, or even protest. ''Generally, Nepalis are used to taking things lying down, and perhaps this also needs to change,' says Shakya, writing that line before last month’s uprising. ‘On the one hand, some of these issues speak volumes about the average Nepali’s patience and perhaps optimism that things will change in the long run. On the other hand, one is also forced to wonder how much longer they will be able to put up with unfavourable conditions if things don’t change.’ It does seem Nepali had enough with corruption, governance failure and political apathy to the concerns of ordinary people. The final chapter lists the non-negotiables to realise the 2043 Nepal Roadmap: democratic values and freedom of speech, a capitalist welfare state and socio-political transformation to tackle corruption and impunity. The book notes, ‘Countries transitioning to democratic rule experienced a 20% increase in GDP over a 25 year period compared to what they would have achieved under authoritarian regimes. After the end of the Shah rule in 2006, Nepal’s GDP rose from US$10 billion to US$44 billion by 2024.’ The government’s Vision 2030 document projects Nepal’s GDP at US$100 billion, and the Vision 2043 estimates that it will be a US$423 billion economy with a per capita of US$12,100. However, it will need more than optimism and practical action to make these projections real. China and India loom large throughout the book with examples of small city states like Singapore which have taken advantage of their strategic location. Despite the tension between India and China, the two will have to collaborate given the inherent advantages. China has replaced the United States as India’s biggest trading partner. Sujeev Shakya is a great admirer of former Singaporean diplomat and author Kishore Mahbubani, and he has written a blurb for the book. He quotes Mahbubani saying that for the past 2,000 years, apart from the last two hundred, Asian countries have dominated the world, and it is quite natural that the world’s economic centre is returning to Asia. And Nepal is strategically placed to make the most of it because of its location between two of the world’s fastest growing economies. We just have to get our politics right, and have a strategy for equitable growth in the new Nepali century.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251016091052_78b2d1495d59cd492a17693e0e770b65230c7cb749393ac6643f4676b73832ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251016091052_78b2d1495d59cd492a17693e0e770b65230c7cb749393ac6643f4676b73832ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Sujeev Shakya book details NT"></figure>

Retrofitting Nepal for future shocks

In the aftermath of the GenZ protests last month, as new PM Sushila Karki chose the first members of her Council of Ministers, youth collectives urged that it reflect the country’s diversity by including women, youth and people from various ethnic and socio-cultural backgrounds.&nbsp;
It took another couple of weeks for Karki to include &nbsp;bureaucrat and public health expert Sangeeta Mishra as &nbsp;Health Minister in her next tranche of ministers. Almost immediately, people dug up a video of Mishra calling herself “Nepali, but a native Indian”.
She was telling it like it was: Mishra is a naturalised Nepali citizen. But there was outrage in the ultra-nationalistic cybersphere. Mishra’s name was withdrawn from the list of ministers, with government officials citing an ongoing investigation at the CIAA.&nbsp;
With her Cabinet still incomplete a month after taking office, Prime Minister Karki was preparing to induct GenZ as ministers. A leak in the media floated the names, one of which was of Tashi Lhazom, a climate activist and filmmaker from Humla’s Limi Valley.&nbsp;
Almost immediately, social media erupted with discriminatory, xenophobic and misogynistic epithets against her: that she supported a separatist movement, that she was a foreign agent, that her citizenship was disputed, that she did not ‘look’ or ‘speak’ like a Nepali.&nbsp;
Political figures like Gyanendra Shahi, a prominent voice calling for the restoration of a Hindu monarchy, added fuel to the fire by making bigoted and false remarks about her heritage.
The former Commissioner of the National Human Rights Commission, Mohna Ansari, wrote on social media that it was shameful to question Lhazom’s identity: ‘Ms Tashi Lhazom is as Nepali as you are. Our society’s ugliest face and biggest flaw is doubting our own. Real patriotism embraces diversity — fake nationalism must end.’
Ansari, a human rights lawyer and activist, has also often been subject to Islamophobic and derogatory comments on digital platforms. &nbsp;
In response, the Indigenous GenZ Collective released Lhazom’s Nepali citizenship certificate to debunk the mistruths spreading on digital as well as mainstream media.
What makes a Nepali? What does a Nepali look or sound like? Who is a Nepali?
‘Had my name been Tashi Poudel, Thapa, Bhattarai or Ghimire, this would not have happened,’ Lhazom said in an interview with Kantipur following an avalanche of bigotry against her. ‘They questioned me because I do not look Nepali, or speak Nepali like a Khas. Because it is not my mother tongue.’
It is an indictment of Nepali society that indigenous Nepalis have to present proof, at the slightest inconvenience of mostly the dominant groups, of being a citizen of this nation simply because they might not fit into an imagined idea of Nepali nationhood by virtue of physical appearance, speech, geography, or faith.
And while we celebrate the successes of Nepal-born naturalised foreign citizens (some now hold elected office in the US) we refuse to afford the same respect to naturalised Nepali citizens, and those born in Nepal to excluded groups, nor do we expect them to work in the national interest if they are given responsibility to govern. And women are singled out twice as much for scrutiny.
Then cyber Nepal went into a tizzy when videos appeared of a biker’s group clad in black t-shirts emblazoned with the acronym ‘TOB’ which was interpreted to stand for ‘Tibetan Original Blood’ and linked to the Free Tibet movement.
The accusations snowballed into disinformation, xenophobia, and even calls for violence against Nepalis of Tibetan heritage and the Tibetan community in Nepal.&nbsp;
In the aftermath of the September protest, the hope was that politics and the bureaucracy would finally be rid of orthodox political actors. But first, we as a nation need to collectively examine the biases and bigotry that exist in Nepal’s socio-cultural space.&nbsp;
Otherwise, Nepal’s multiculturalism will be limited to just words in the Constitution and political tokenism.
No one who is in government now or in future can be expected to be completely free of subjective opinions, ideology, affiliation to a cause, or prior activism. And such criticism falls disproportionately on activists, advocates, and members from underserved and underrepresented communities.&nbsp;
One cannot be apolitical and hope to participate in politics, and as we move forward to rebuild the system it must not just reflect diverse communities, but also celebrate diversity of thought and beliefs.&nbsp;
Resorting to ethnocentrism, racism and chauvinism with conspiracy theories and discriminatory dog-whistling about fellow citizens is a disservice to Nepali nationhood. It is Nepal’s diversity that makes us strong.&nbsp;
Shristi Karki

What makes a Nepali?

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

Is Nepal reaching peak EV?

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

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