Between Dasain rites and Tihar lights, the 21st edition of Surya Nepal Jazzmandu ended with a hearty deusi jam session at The Malla Hotel on Wednesday. The festival began last week with a concert for a lively young crowd at St Xavier’s School. Across town, the first bassline dropped at Jazz Upstairs with an impromptu ensemble as dusk fell over the city.&nbsp; Over the intervening days, Jazzmanduites faced a delightful dilemma of choosing between a lineup of intimate venues, each sending waves of music across the valley.&nbsp; “Because of the unrest, audiences from all over the world were inquiring and waiting for Jazzmandu,” said Navin Chettri, drummer of Cadenza Collective and co-founder of Jazzmandu. “The fact that they came was a testament to the power of music, and spoke of Nepal’s resilience.” German artist Leona Berlin’s R&amp;B was the one to watch, while cymbals echoed during the Swiss quartet mohs. set with Nu Jazz and neo-soul. The enthralling and soulful ragas from Jonisha Poudel rose over Patan’s brick courtyard as the sax joined in celebration. “Jazz was born from struggle and social unrest – and what emerged was something beautiful. In times like these, that spirit is something we can all aspire to,” said Jason Amirhadji, a first-time visitor to Nepal. Femke Smit and Mike Del Ferro from the Netherlands infused the air with the colourful, flowing spirit of Brazilian music. With Smit’s voice and Del Ferro on the piano, the audience was swaying to the music.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101044_387ec0041807e1fb237094607394533a0f0f940e297c56abf994cd3657ba9b06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251017101044_387ec0041807e1fb237094607394533a0f0f940e297c56abf994cd3657ba9b06" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025 NT 1"> <figcaption>Nick Aggs. Photo: LOCHAN GYAWALI</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101044_5178d79872a2495b486e3933f19e29ea3ab2538ae3ce50ca6f7117b73646f5a4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251017101044_5178d79872a2495b486e3933f19e29ea3ab2538ae3ce50ca6f7117b73646f5a4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Femke Smit"> <figcaption>Femke Smit. Photo: ADITYA KHARE</figcaption> </figure>  “This is a synthesis between Nepali folk music and international jazz,” explained flautist Roshan Putwar before hopping on stage to play a soulful set. Putwar has researched Dāphā music and performed across the world. For the past weeks, the city’s pulse has been political: streets echoing with demands for change, there are still aftershocks of the upheaval that left the city weary and voices raw. And in the evenings, jazz acts too resonated with a quiet defiance. Musicians bent notes in response to the disquiet, and the audience imbibed it with eyes closed. “It takes great courage to come to Nepal after what happened and with the artists’ support we are able to revive unity and healing through music,” says festival co-organiser Samir Chettri, bassist of Cadenza Collective. “Music heals, and this festival brought positivity and peace among all.” The Cadenza Collective shared the stage with Australian saxophonist and composer Nick Aggs, a Brisbane native and member of the fusion group Afro Dizzi Act in a mix called Afrodenza.&nbsp; “It’s a privilege to play with musicians all over the world, especially with Cadenza because I’ve known the boys since 1999,” said Aggs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101048_944c4fb4be1d7d33cb7979ae57ccbb084d9eafffc4a48fa8690802049dcdf74a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251017101048_944c4fb4be1d7d33cb7979ae57ccbb084d9eafffc4a48fa8690802049dcdf74a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101048_a903986ea8a49881f5d94c05a23141db4800e11d6121afb0ece354feabb9bf9c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251017101048_a903986ea8a49881f5d94c05a23141db4800e11d6121afb0ece354feabb9bf9c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>  On Saturday, musicians and fans gathered for an open-sky Jazz Bazaar at Gokarna Forest Resort. Brazilian singer and composer Catia Werneck’s quartet got the audience on its feet to their bossa nova and samba tunes. “It’s the highest music festival in the world,” Werneck beamed. Every solo, every exchange between tabla and drums, sounded the amalgamation of east and the west here at the heart of Nepal. On Tuesday, the audience clapped and danced as a mix of artists performed songs like ‘Blues Selo’ and ‘Shiva’s Dance’, at Yalamaya Kendra in Patan. There were jazz fans who came to Kathmandu just for the music, like Namrata Raju from India. She said: “This was our second Jazzmandu. The artists were thoughtfully curated. There were people from all over the world, and the festival sets an example of music, peace and cultural appreciation”&nbsp; Chethana Salian from Oman agreed: “This is my first time at Jazzmandu, and what a fabulous way to let your hair down with some foot-tapping music. Added a bunch of the artists to my morning playlist, especially Cadenza Collective.” &nbsp; Cadenza’s Navin Chhetri sipped his beer, satisfied at the success of the festival: “Jazzmandu is becoming a tourism draw for musicians and audiences alike.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251017101052_b4d1d7ff25f9c97c06f34916c6555a1ce5ccf415d3e7610d9ae6402e477b7bfe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251017101052_b4d1d7ff25f9c97c06f34916c6555a1ce5ccf415d3e7610d9ae6402e477b7bfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Jazzmandu 2025"> </figure>  The Samundra band representing Nepal’s Gandharva community opened the finale with rousing Tihar songs played on sarangi, flute and madal. Joelle Loretan from Switzerland, another first-timer in Nepal, spoke of the positivity of Nepalis: “The people here are so welcoming and in good spirits despite what they have been through.” &nbsp;

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The healing power of music

Saksham Shrestha grew up surrounded by music. His father owned a cassette shop in New Road, and his days were filled with everything from bhajan, Bollywood songs to the latest from international rock stars. Before long, Shrestha was picking up on these <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/jazzy-april-in-kathmandu">varied genres</a>, and started playing guitar. But he was drawn to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15955">hip-hop </a>and the platform it provides. Raised in Tebahal in Kathmandu, he drew inspiration from the heritage and culture of his Newa community. “I was exposed to Nepali and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/long-live-tradition-51t9e7x1">Newari culture</a> and heritage since childhood, so linking my music to it made sense,” Shrestha, famously known as <a href="https://omgspark.com/">OMG Spark</a>, told us after a recent performance in Patan for 20 Canadian exchange students. “Every song has some Newari words, so young people who do not understand it can go back and try to learn it. I aim to incorporate more languages in my songs to reach out to a larger audience,” he adds. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/making-the-sound-of-music-in-patan,3976">Traditional instruments</a> such as sitar, sarangi, dhime, and bhusyah are integral to Shrestha’s music, as is the mix of Nepali, Newari, and English in his lyrics. And Newari pops out of nowhere in the words, surprising audiences.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814090848_e25c4620335ee5812ca398d50d8ea5b4c17dbaf9f5e9d10294a847f6c74b14b1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250814090848_e25c4620335ee5812ca398d50d8ea5b4c17dbaf9f5e9d10294a847f6c74b14b1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1498" loading="lazy" alt="OMG Sparks NT"> </figure>  Interestingly, OMG in Shrestha’s rap name does not stand for Oh My God but Origami Music Group, a music collective that he started with Sagun Khadka and Sarthak Gautam, which specialises in hip-hop and rap music as well as R&amp;B and pop genres, providing a platform for young and aspiring artists to showcase their talent and creativity. And Spark? “Spark has been with me since childhood. While playing Counter-Strike and rap battling online, my name was Spark,” Shrestha adds. &nbsp; Shrestha started his musical career straight out of his studio, and has composed for the likes of Uniq Poet and rapper turned <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/kathmandu-s-balen-phenomenon">Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah</a>. In the last 10 years, he collaborated with both emerging and established artists. He has also composed for movies. But his biggest success yet is the single <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8mJQQrmfQ-U&amp;list=RD8mJQQrmfQ-U&amp;start_radio=1">Babal</a> which is a collaboration with Sisan Baniya and Nawaj Ansari and has over 12 million views on YouTube. Nepalese Brilliance, Gurkhali, Manakamana, Valley Jamz, and Jojolapa are some of his other popular songs. 'In the land where peaks touch the sky, man we shine Nepalese brilliance is divine, every day I’m learning, man I’m tryna see fine But they be telling me there’s a struggle for the nation The system, the progress, the schisms, the bondage …….This ain’t nation for a coward dog' Every day is do or die, so you gotta muscle up.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250814090848_d591020613bf5e916576c7dc071dc65f77929699965cf4611d36bddb0362f592.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250814090848_d591020613bf5e916576c7dc071dc65f77929699965cf4611d36bddb0362f592" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="OMG Sparks NT"> </figure>  These lyrics from his song Nepalese Brilliance depict the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/push-factors-driving-nepalis-out">frustration of young Nepalis</a>, the lack of opportunities that is pushing many out. “As youth are mostly migrating out, my music aims to inspire and connect with them and strengthen the hip-hop movement in Nepal,” Shrestha explains. He adds, “I am just tapping into whatever is inside of me. Nepalis relate to my songs because they have also had similar experiences.” For Shrestha, hip-hop is not just a genre, but a lifestyle and collective culture that empowers, elevates, and entertains. He separates the two words and brings out his interpretation of those two words -- ‘hip’ is being knowledgeable about the surroundings and finding a voice, whereas ‘hop’ is being free and letting loose.&nbsp; He aims to connect, create awareness, and anchor young Nepalis to their roots. Shrestha himself felt like a misfit once, but found solace in hip-hop. “Hip-hop resonated deeply with me, allowing me to be free-spirited,” says Shrestha. “The next step is to take Nepali hip-hop to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/music-without-borders">the global stage</a>.” &nbsp;&nbsp;

Hip-hop as a way of life

Nepal’s top maestro mixed the traditional sounds of Nepal with world music at the Culture in Sync concert at the Sydney Opera House on Thursday to bring a message of peace and healing to a troubled world. Hari Maharjan’s musical extravaganza had a rich blend of instruments, including the dhime drum and flute from Nepal, the Mongolian yatga, Iranian tanbur, Australian bass and piano, creating a diverse musical experience. “When music-enthusiasts from different places and paths of life are grooving to the same tune, we’re all speaking the same language,” Maharjan told us. The Hari Maharjan Project jammed with a multinational line-up blending traditional Nepali sounds with modern jazz. The performance offered a borderless cosmopolitan musical experience rooted in Nepal’s heritage as a healing response to wars and planetary climate breakdown. Maharjan grew up in Kathmandu surrounded by the sound of the dhime drum and was influenced by 1970s rock, mixing the sounds of east with west. He picked up the guitar in school and quickly formed a deep connection with the instrument. “Music to me is the play between sound and silence,” he told us. “All instruments have their own essence, but I am connected most with the guitar, not just because it’s glamorous, but because it carries melody, rhythm, and harmony all at once.” Over the years, Maharjan has explored other genres as well, collaborating with bands like Nepathya, Karma, Robin and the New Revolution, Kutumba, composing and performing. While each experience offered unique insights, he always returned to the folk rhythms of his Newari roots.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025062008064_8404d77030f5fe33d0d749fda4e57d7a91ce0b02fbed0746959ec70e4f514f27.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025062008064_8404d77030f5fe33d0d749fda4e57d7a91ce0b02fbed0746959ec70e4f514f27" data-rendition-name="original" width="1365" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Music without borders NT"></figure>  That homecoming takes shape in his album Swoniga, named after the ancient word for the Kathmandu Valley. The album draws inspiration from teeming streets, ringing of temple bells, and the songs of everyday struggles and shared solidarity. “These are the sounds Kathmandu Valley gifted me, and I am giving back with my album,” he added. Many of these tunes had their live premiere on the iconic stage of the Sydney Opera House on Thursday evening. Maharjan has released other instrumental albums: Kalakarmi in 2008, Sudina in 2012 and Going into Three before the pandemic in 2019. He served as Music Theory Professor at Kathmandu University, and is credited with introducing ‘Gypsy Jazz’ in Nepal, blending jazz and local tunes. Culture in Sync began as a bold idea two years ago when Gajendra Shahi of Sangam Productions approached arranger-guitarist Nirvana Bista with a vision to take Nepali music to the global stage, such as the Sydney Opera House. Once a student of Hari Maharjan, Bista has grown into a respected bandleader in his own right and now carries forward his mentor’s legacy through this ambitious collaboration. To guide the Sydney audience through this cultural journey, bilingual listening cards with introductions were handed out in both Nepali and English. With ambassadors attending, the event highlighted Nepal’s role in global dialogue where music became a language of shared harmony. Maharjan’s next project is to perform his music from the slopes of Mt Everest. But for now, his message to fans is: “Keep celebrating music. When you listen, we get to create. And when you truly hear us, you become one with the music.”

Music without borders

This is the 68th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father died before I was two, and I do not have any memory of him. In fact, I do not even have a picture with him. There were some faded photographs of him, but they were lost in the earthquake. From what I know, he was a mason and was bed-ridden after a work accident. So it has always been my mother. I cannot speak about her without getting emotional. She raised us five boys as a single mother. Despite our economic condition, she did not let us feel deprived of anything.&nbsp; All the neighbourhood children went to school except me, so I demanded my mother send me to school as well. I doubt that my mother even knew that it was important for children to have &nbsp;schooling.&nbsp; It was only after starting school that I realised that it was not a whole lot of fun. Somehow I did manage to study till Grade 12, but it was music that I was obsessed with. As Newars, we have many festivals that involve music.&nbsp; I played instruments during our festivals, and had a knack for picking up techniques just from watching the elders play. My passion for music overtook interests like sports and dance. As I grew older, I listened to music of all genres.&nbsp; We could not afford formal music classes, so I had to learn by watching others play. My friends and I started playing together and formed a band. We organised cultural programs and concerts. Our first metal bands were called Aspirin and Jadecula, names that my friend gave, but I do not think they mean anything. Since then, I have been part of many bands but what we earned was barely enough to cover taxi fares and maintain instruments.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250605110628_efc75f0da5b9c44ce2b4f1ba864dbfb8d0a36c11eb588d9d8eb7461fb6695f45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250605110628_efc75f0da5b9c44ce2b4f1ba864dbfb8d0a36c11eb588d9d8eb7461fb6695f45" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="480" loading="lazy" alt="Song of work and freedom NT"> <figcaption>Ashik dropped out of school, taught himself music, and posed with friends before leaving Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Many of my former band members are arrangers, vocalists, and instructors, but others left because a career in music was not worthwhile. Perhaps that is the story of many Nepalis who have to set aside their passion and talent to support their families. Passion for anything usually weakens as we get older. But not for me, my interest in music only grew. When the pandemic hit, life got very difficult. As a musician I was a free bird doing frequent gigs, but I felt suffocated and caged during the lockdown. It got intolerable, so I decided to go overseas, to Dubai.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yjoyzoU_jwQ?si=gwTIiUHK1mCxbYAp" 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> My plan was to take up a regular job and continue music on the side. I took my guitar with me, which was not a common sight on planes flying from Kathmandu to the Gulf. I remember stowing it in the overhead bin above my seat to ensure it was safe. A day or two after arriving I went to Kalba Beach in Fujairah, and was so excited to see the sea that I ran to the waves fully dressed. That happiness did not last because I realised that the recruiter in Nepal had screwed me over. There was no job waiting for me in Dubai as promised.&nbsp; I used up the money I had taken with me paying rent and buying food. It got so difficult that I could not even afford to eat. I ate khaboosh and missed Nepali dal bhat. I would think about my mother and pine for home. In our family in Nepal we could not even eat rice and my mother used to prepare dhindo. She had a soft spot for her youngest and managed to give me some rice, and that caused fights among us siblings. How did my mother manage, I wondered as I struggled out there in the UAE.&nbsp; Even now, she has never asked me for a single paisa, which surprises me. In her eyes, as the youngest son, I am still a kid. As you grow up, you think of your childhood memories that you took for granted. And when caught in difficult situations, those moments sting you even harder.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250605110628_1a46c780db290e848f57dbe51cb701981b4032d8075da969f6ea04b9d7fdacaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250605110628_1a46c780db290e848f57dbe51cb701981b4032d8075da969f6ea04b9d7fdacaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="853" loading="lazy" alt="Song of work and freedom NT"> </figure>  I did not tell my mother about how hard it was in the UAE, I did not want her to worry. I only told a few friends, and they offered help.&nbsp; I help others, but it is not in my nature to ask for help for myself. Maybe it is from fear of rejection, which I would not be able to handle. I am used to keeping my troubles to myself.&nbsp; I continued to practice singing despite the trouble I was in, but was not able to create new music because my mental state did not allow space for creativity. I decided not to come home because I had resolved to make something of myself before returning.&nbsp; As luck would have it, I was walking past a café in Dubai one day when I heard some music inside. I asked the Bangladeshi security guard about the live music and managed to get the number of the owner. The sound technician had quit, so I was hired for live performances.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2babCF13IDk?si=J7V5HVmJpgbcb1Zy" 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> After a year, I got poached by a Nepali customer who came to the café who had started a club in Dubai. I get to sing there in Nepali for Nepalis, and give them a respite from a hard day at work. The songs remind the workers of home, and some are in tears when I sing songs like यो मन त मेरो नेपाली हो.&nbsp; I came to Nepal recently to participate in the Mero Voice Universe competition. It is more stressful auditioning than performing in regular concerts, where a few small mistakes will not matter so much. In an audition the judges only give you one shot at it. Even so, platforms like this help struggling artists like me gain more exposure and reach a bigger audience.&nbsp; I have come a long way from the Rs650 I earned after my first gig in Kathmandu where I sang Teri Diwani by Kailash Kher, which I still perform today.&nbsp; But I need to do a lot more in my life.

Song of work and freedom

The winter air pollution season started early this year with emissions, Diwali firecrackers and crop residue burning making the air unbreathable across north India. Much of the pollution was transboundary, with prevailing winds carrying the suspended particulates from Pakistan, across India to Nepal and beyond. All this pollution and domestic emissions killed 41,300 in Nepal in 2023, and 85% of all deaths were because of noncommunicable diseases such as heart and lung disease, lung cancer, diabetes, and dementia, according to the State of Global Air (SoGA) 2025 report released Thursday. With the onset of winter, Kathmandu Valley’s own emissions are trapped in a surface inversion layer and as in previous years will have some of the worst air quality in the world.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131016_7c42a4e8b0dce01dfeeaaf89dbb10dbfa036b41163f3ebada88c7ce17dbded49.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251023131016_7c42a4e8b0dce01dfeeaaf89dbb10dbfa036b41163f3ebada88c7ce17dbded49" data-rendition-name="original" width="921" height="850" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  The SoGa report says air pollution has now become the leading risk factor for deaths in Nepal, ahead of tobacco and high blood pressure. Interestingly, while the health impacts due to environmental risk factors such as unsafe water and sanitation have reduced significantly since 2000, the opposite is true for ambient PM2.5 (particles smaller than 2.5 microns). Globally, 7.9 million deaths were attributable to air pollution– about 1 in 8 deaths – in 2023. Of this total, 4.9 million deaths were attributable to PM2.5 exposure, 2.8 million were from household air pollution, and 470,000 were from ozone. Similarly, dementia attributable to air pollution resulted in 626,000 deaths and 40 million healthy years of life lost. And 95% of air pollution attributable deaths in adults over the age of 60 are due to noncommunicable diseases. The burden of noncommunicable diseases in relation to air pollution is rising worldwide and in Nepal. The SoGA report shows that nearly nine of ten global air pollution deaths are from chronic ailments, and half of all respiratory disease deaths are attributable to air pollution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131020_8577f464b4a73007de5dd018b8ac91dae3a9c732dbb81a44b6aa5a0ced7df3df.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251023131020_8577f464b4a73007de5dd018b8ac91dae3a9c732dbb81a44b6aa5a0ced7df3df" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  In Nepal, air pollution is responsible for three out of four COPD deaths, one out of three heart deaths and one out of five diabetes deaths. More than one third of lower respiratory infection deaths were due to air pollution. “The data presented in the State of Global Air report highlight the significant impacts of poor air quality on the health and well-being of billions of people around the world, especially those living in Asia and Africa,” says Pallavi Pant of the Boston-based Health Effects Institute (HEI) that released the report in collaboration with the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation and the NCD Alliance. She adds: “Growing momentum on air quality management across those hard-hit locations, including expansion of air quality monitoring, adoption of air quality regulations, and sector-specific interventions are yielding improvements for those most impacted.” Low- and middle-income countries stand to gain most by reducing air pollution, with particularly strong impacts on children, older populations, and people with pre-existing health conditions. Indeed, of the 41,300 air pollution deaths in 2023 in Nepal, 31,600 were in adults over the age of 60 years and 3,500 in children below five years. Death rate for air pollution in Nepal, which is 178 per 100,000, is more than 10 times higher than high-income countries, which is at 17 per 100,000.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131020_604e852aed4ffde0dc7d1df72fcd3e73d904136dfb1bb2407e53b7445f3ef72c.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251023131020_604e852aed4ffde0dc7d1df72fcd3e73d904136dfb1bb2407e53b7445f3ef72c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="423" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  “Win-win solutions for air pollution and NCDs exist, with added benefits for climate, physical activity, nutrition, and many other global development priorities,” says Alison Cox, Policy and Advocacy Director at the Geneva-based NCD Alliance. “These policies are effective and deliver a strong return on investment - for the sake of our people and the planet we need to implement them faster.” Fine particle pollution (ambient PM2.5) is the largest driver of air pollution’s burden of disease worldwide as kit attributed to 4.9 million deaths and 124 million healthy years of life lost in 2023. Vehicles, power plants, factories, and homes, as well as agricultural and industrial activities, waste burning and wildfires are some of the biggest sources of pollutants. South Asia is among the regions of the world with the highest exposures to ambient PM2.5 , while more than 36% of people around the world live in areas where PM2.5 levels do not meet even the least stringent interim target. As per the report, 78% of Nepal’s 30 million population lives in areas where annual PM2.5 exposure exceeds the least stringent WHO Air Quality Interim Target of 35 µg/m3. Meanwhile, exposure to household air pollution due to the use of solid fuels for cooking remains an important driver for the disease burden in the country. “Ongoing efforts to meet global development goals are not achievable without directly addressing air pollution,” says Maria Neira, Commissioner of Our Common Air. “Countries and cities must focus their efforts toward reducing air pollution emissions, including household air pollution, which has particularly severe impacts on young children and older people across Asia and Africa.”

Air pollution killing season starts early

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.

Digitising the savant calligrapher

Nepal needs to enact and enforce animal law

This year, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/quo-vadis-un-80-9vthn7mg">United Nations is marking its 80th anniversary</a> and it is being celebrated with special events across the world to commemorate its establishment on 24 October 1945. It has also been 75 years since the first UN adviser, the Swiss geologist Toni Hagen, was sent to Nepal to explore development opportunities. In 1950, there were no roads and Hagen walked on foot across the length and breadth of Nepal’s mountains, valleys and plains. This year also marks the 60th anniversary of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) in Nepal, and much of Hagen’s work laid the basis for the UN’s involvement in education, health, and connectivity in Nepal’s future development. Despite frequent changes in government and political system, Nepal has made remarkable progress. The poverty rate has gone down by half in the past 30 years to 20.27% of the population. Much of it has to do with remittances from Nepalis working overseas, but it is also a result of the Nepal government’s investment in education, health care and social welfare.&nbsp; There have been special initiatives like the Prime Minister’s Employment Program that have provided jobs to nearly 800,000 people in the country’s 743 municipalities — especially in those areas with lower Human Development Index (HDI) like the far-west and the Tarai.&nbsp; This year’s HDI report by UNDP shows that Nepal’s score had risen to 0.622, whereas it was only 0.404 in 1990. In the past 33 years, the average lifespan of Nepalis has risen by 15.6 years to 70.4 years, whereas it was only 54.8 in 1990. However, the country’s HDI ranking is still 145 among the world’s 193 countries. “Yes, there has been significant improvement in living standards in the past 60 years, road connectivity has improved, the maternal mortality rate has gone down dramatically, almost everyone has phones, there are schools,” says Saru Joshi of the thinktank Nepal Policy Institute. But, she adds: “It is still difficult to get citizenship papers, especially in the name of the mother, and this has excluded many women from banking services, inheritance. After all our progress in physical infrastructure, Nepal now needs to prioritise inclusive social development.”&nbsp; Some of this is also happening. Eighteen years ago, Nabaraj Subedi, 49, of a village in Baglung decided not to join his peers &nbsp;fleeing the Maoist conflict to find work overseas. He invested Rs500,000 to buy a diesel generator and start a small furniture business.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nawaraj Subedi"> <figcaption>Nawaraj Subedi, 49, proprietor of Tarakhola Furniture Factory. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, with the installation of the 380 kilowatt small hydroelectric plant, he does not need to depend on his unreliable generator to power his equipment anymore. There is now a road connecting his village, and Subedi has generated local jobs, opened a sales branch in the city, and gets orders from as far away as Pokhara and Chitwan. “My costs have gone down drastically because of the electricity, and sales have gone up because of the road connecting my furniture to markets. My business has expanded,” Subedi says. Back in 1960 in a report he prepared for the Nepal government on behalf of the United Nations, Toni Hagen had emphasised just this: investing in electricity generation and connectivity to uplift the remote rural areas of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Tarakhola Furniture Factory"> <figcaption>Subedi's staff at the Tarakhola Furniture Factory.</figcaption> </figure>  Subedi’s furniture factory gets its electricity from the nearby Tarakhola Hydropower, a company set up eight years ago with financial and technical support from UNDP’s Renewable Energy for Rural Livelihood (RERL) project. &nbsp; “The project completely transformed living standards in this village,” says municipality chair Dhan Bahadur BK. “It has helped create jobs locally, there is now money to invest in education and healthcare. Households can pay their electricity fees electronically through smart billing.”&nbsp; After working with the government on rural electrification, UNDP is focussed on using that power for local employment creation. A women’s group, for example, has bought an electric-powered potato processing machine that can produce chips.&nbsp; “We are 12 of us mothers, daughters, daughters-in-law who process, package and market the potato that we grow ourselves, and it has raised our income,” says Sukmaya Roka, 57, who chairs the group.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Sukamaya Roka"> <figcaption>Sukamaya Roka, 57, chair of Sipa Aalu Chips Utpadan Samuha from Tarakhola Rural Municipality, Baglung. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, 6.1 million households in Nepal (92.2% of total) have electricity in their homes, up from 17.9% 30 years ago. Access to electricity has not just brought lights to homes, but improved everything from productivity, quality of education, healthcare and phone connectivity.&nbsp; “To see what electricity and roads can do, just look at our municipality,” says chair Dhan Bahadur BK, “citizens have become more self-reliant, more aware of the outside world.”&nbsp; NETTLES INTO CASH&nbsp; Just a little bit of training, resource backup and local empowerment can uplift the living standards of Nepalis. The progress made in harvesting abundantly-available allo (nettles) and turning it into household products is an example. When a landslide swept away his home and farm in a flood 40 years ago, Buddhi Purja of Parbat became destitute. But he took part in a government training program supported by UNDP and Australia to harvest the wild nettles that grew on mountain slopes and turn the fabric into bags.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rhitu Saugat Handicraft"> <figcaption>A worker at Rhitu Saugat Handicraft making a bag out of nettles.</figcaption> </figure>  “After the landslide, we had to go hungry if we did not get a day job,” Purja recalls, “but after this training we have found that we can turn nettles into cash.” His allo bags are now hanging in tourist shops in Pokhara Lakeside and Thamel.&nbsp; The idea that nettles can be processed into useful fabric has not spread across the country, and new ecologically conscious consumers in Europe and elsewhere now import Made in Nepal nettle products.&nbsp; Purja started out with an investment of Rs500,000, and had a Rs20 million business that employed 25 workers. The Covid crisis in 2020 affected the sales, but Purja has recovered from it, sent his daughter off to study abroad, and is thinking of diversifying his product range.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Buddi Purja"> <figcaption>Buddi Purja, proprietor of Rhitu Saugat Handicraft in Pokhara.</figcaption> </figure>  While UNDP’s project has made successful businessmen out of people like Purja, nationwide it has created 187,000 jobs in rural medium-scale industries. Much of what has worked in Nepal has been at the community level with decentralised projects like these that use the entrepreneurship of people like Buddhi Purja, Navaraj Subedi, and Sukmaya Roka. It is tantalising to imagine how much more progress Nepal would have made if their work could be replicated nationside and upscaled to the state-level.

nepali-musicians