‘Romans might not feel so proud of their Caesar.’ That is a sentence from Laxmi Prasad Devkota’s essay describing King Mahendra’s 1956 crowning ceremony in his book, Coronation Day in Kathmandu and Other Essays. Devkota is honoured as Nepal’s Great Poet (महाकवि) and mostly wrote essays, epics and poetry in Nepali language. His English was elaborate, effusive, and followed the grandiose style of the day. ‘I felt that if this delicate golden thread snapped, a long trail of woes and confusions would ensue,’ he wrote in fulsome praise of the monarchy. Devkota died of lung cancer three years after Mahendra’s coronation. The book has 27 other essays in English on various subjects and they range from tirades, odes, satires, to experiments of the imagination where Devkota invents a situation to make a point. His writings are characterised by an unrelenting barrage of metaphor. ‘But it is his type that have on the strength of mustard leaves, maize pulp or nettle lifted our nation into military glory!’ gushes Devkota about the miserable yet enduring lives of ‘The Wood Cutters of Nepal’. Although he was appointed Minister of Education in 1957, Devkota himself was used to hard times -- he writes about ducking creditors and how 12 pay days in a year are all he lives for. Devkota had a deep understanding of and love for Nepal, yet he is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5450">brutal in his criticism</a>. ‘The Electric Bulb’ was written out of deep frustration about a feeble light bulb so dim he could not work at night. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-genius-of-shakuntala-in-nepali">The genius of Shakuntalā in Nepali</a> These lines could be written about contemporary Nepal: ‘Dependence is a national virtue, with a verbal swagger about age-long independence. As a nation we have no vision and no attempt at self-sufficiency. We have no contribution to an advancing globe.’ He makes similar acidic observations about Indians: ‘The Benarasi is a true gentleman or political scoundrel whose god is pelf and creed. He intellectualises goondaism till it becomes a fine social art.’ Devkota understands the importance of tradition, pointing out how religious rituals bring with them discipline and exercise. Yet, in ‘The Joint Family and the Mother-in-Law,’ he describes how it is untenable for the whole clan to live under the same roof. Mother and wife fight for attention from the husband or son and play nasty tricks of jealousy on each other. In ‘A Dream in Politics’ Devkota conjures up himself dreaming that his wife has become a powerful politician. He then details how a candidate might start out with the best intentions, but would eventually see how impossibly corrupt it all was and resort to greed and unkept promises. Devkota’s literary achievements would have been great no matter what language he had been born into. The essays provide intimate details of his life as a writer, father, husband, and political adviser. They also are historical accounts of Nepal and Kathmandu at the time, and what stands out is how much Hinduism and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-caste-struggle">the caste system</a> seem to be a part of everyday life. In ‘Pleasure in Humiliation’ Devkota details his cash-poor student days when he had to borrow textbooks from friends because he could not afford his own. He tutored English six hours a day to get by. He struggles in science subjects, but seems to have an aptitude and memory for the English language. In one exam, after only two days of study, Devkota scores 75%, while his Rana classmates score much less. He tutors his classmates and is once summoned by a grandfather who complains about his higher scores in English. But he is vindicated when another tutor verifies his marks. There are parts of essays that are so dense and verbose that they are hard to read. In ‘Against Literature’ Devkota tries to make the point that a lot of contemporary writing had become insincere and removed from original experience. “If the beat of our heart must be rendered artificial or unnatural by the very intrusion of special attention upon its function, we may reasonably ask whether literature which is its expression as an over-conscious business may not be an abnormal expression in mechanical terms of the spiritual life of man, so often felt as the elusive quality of inner emotion harped upon with such frequency by the masters of the literary trade.’ See what I mean? All he is trying to say is that one should write how one feels, not how you think you should feel. The book was reprinted recently by FinePrint, and we do not know if the typos and mistakes in grammar were in the original. Nevertheless: a good way to be introduced to Nepal’s greatest poet via the English language.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024122206128_e6af094525e7ef7097f6493cd4215048b32357b6a3e07eb739e9a982b6600636" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Coronation Day Laxmi Prasad Devkota"></figure>

Vishad Raj Onta

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Laxmi Prasad Devkota in English

&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FVvNCLTlOiCs&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>
 
…To hell with poetry, with memories, &nbsp;
with my mother’s food- maybe not my mother’s biryani-&nbsp;
To hell the memory of turning nineteen&nbsp;
in quarantine. To hell with waiting. To hell
with this poem. To hell with how long.
(<a href="https://soundcloud.com/user-115260978/359-cooking-by-mukahang-limbu">Mukahang Limbu</a>)
Your friend sends you half a poem by <a href="https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/poets/mukahang-limbu/" target="_blank">Mukahang Limbu</a>, with a note at the bottom: Found this gem online and thought to share with you. You go back and read it a couple more times, the way you do with poetry that reaches into you to touch certain chords and you instantly know you’ve found a place to go to.&nbsp;
But home can also be just a memory and you find out why as you read When I first came from Nepal by Limbu:
Missing the feeling of home&nbsp;
I smell the iron rust
of the Municipal Gardens.
The sour tang of home still sits&nbsp;
on the tip of my tongue&nbsp;
like the zest of sweet citrus fizzing.
There are nights when you turn to poetry for reprieve. The world closes in upon you sometimes and sometimes pushes you away, leaving you on the fringes, staring at the inner circle, where you feel you do not belong.
You discuss the imposter syndrome with your friend. What can one really do to become authentic in a world that constantly tests? Often, there is only so much to do. Perhaps it is to be and to live as you are and bare yourself to the core, even between strangers.
<a href="https://www.voicedairy.com/spoken-word">Deepa Bohora</a> beams at the sight of you, asks you your name and smiles as though you are not a stranger but an old friend. She instantly engages with you in conversation about her childhood, about her struggle with Lupus.
“It is poetry that salvaged me. And Yukta Didi, who showed me that I could also write poetry,” she says of Yukta Bajracharya, poet and writer.
<div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DhM1ds0v9NSg&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>
As you navigate a busy street in Patan together, Bohora tells you about her father’s work in India and about a fan that was her friend when she was a child. And there is that poem she narrates, about this fan. The fan.
The fan is her friend. But in her poem, she becomes a friend to the fan. The fan goes on to tell us the story of the little girl with Lupus, strung in her own metaphor of healing. The device, which has been sitting in her house for years, gathering dust, warped with spider web, becomes a symbol of her own yearning to recover.
When the fan is repaired and once again starts spinning off cool air, Bohora writes a second installment about its restoration. And as the fan rises from its ashes to become a device of use again, what we really see is Bohora’s recovery.&nbsp;
“I write poetry because I like to tell stories. There are so many stories in me and in the people around me. That’s why I write poetry,” says Bohora. But poetry comes to her like a song, like the humming of the fan on a hot summer’s day in Surkhet, so she becomes the little girl again, who runs around her village telling everyone the fan has been fixed.
That healing she finds in poetry is shared experience for many. “They say we are all poets at least once in our lives. And that is when the heart breaks,” says Saras Chari. He says he started writing poetry as a form of expression away from a childhood scarred by bullies.
“First it was that, and then at some point, I realised that I had some talent, but as I grew older, I realised it was my only talent. And so I write to see where I fit in this society and to talk about issues that are misinterpreted,” says Chari.
<div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2FhTYmhSVUWJM&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>
When a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/peaceful-physically-distanced-protests/" target="_blank">series of anti-government protests</a> were staged in Kathmandu in 2020, Chari noticed how at each one of those events, the public was pitted against the government security personnel. “They’re not our foes. They’re one of us. Their families are one of us. But when they’re out there, defending the line, they become the ones who stand against us. And in that, they’re oppressed by the government, while being tasked at oppressing us,” says Chari.
And so his poem, Pyadha, traverses the minds of traffic police, police and soldiers:
Those toes locked inside boots bleed, too,
They get sucked on by leeches and
They yearn for the feel of the grass…
(translated from Pyadha)
&nbsp;“Look at how many ways poetry has been used in history,” Chari says. “Poetry was taught to us by pundits to propagate religions. Poetry was used to teach, but also to control. It has also been the medium for expressing love, just as much as it has been used to stir rebellion. Poetry is powerful,” says Chari.
Anand Vijay Gurung, who sits in the audience as Chari performs his verse on stage says that poetry serves its own purpose. “Or wait, why must it even serve a purpose? That’s a difficult question to answer. If a piece of poetry inspired you to feel more intensely, it has served its purpose,” says Gurung, who likes to think of poetry as a word game. And so in his poem, We Are All Migrants, he writes:
…to navigate their way in a world and find
The elusive perfect nest
etched in their mental maps.
“Poetry is pretty much everyone’s game,” says Chari. Like Deepa Bohora, he too found a community in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Review-from-the-page-to-the-stage,593" target="_blank">the Word Warriors</a>, a spoken word poetry group. And while Gurung calls writing a lonely task, Slam poets like Bohora and Chari have formed their own circles where poets come together to write and perform.
Chari and his friends Prakash Zimba, Rupesh Bhattarai and Shuvangi Khadka perform together under the name, <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Finstagram.com%2Fkavindrapur%3Figshid%3D16dc04x37mx12%26fbclid%3DIwAR0ODA8yTZBhHrFb4mDQXWyuTGANf04wl47UtkeeXhUMfXYrbaqfhdMyG2A&amp;h=AT2gylLtbTPg2QgDfSfe3jOP_z3o2IwdJ-yQvnn-hAhN4_ue4tA2asN8zbjw06-pJ9a8kCnD1cSi8qxEOy3QoDxQJJ1s4uPHlW8nn8UO2pq9D-n4CrO61UUIryNapDw0LA1iB8Q0pxA" target="_blank">Kavindrapur</a>, in memory of the &nbsp;forgotten poets that frequented a sattal rest house next to Kastamandap, during the reign of Pratap Malla.
The king was the patron of the poets. And there in a rest house in the heart of old Kathmandu, the streets would reverberate with verses as poets wove a mesh with their words. It is this memory that has been created into a legacy by the young poets, even as they struggle with other challenges of being poet.
“Poet, but paid” is painted in white on the black tee shirt Chari wears. “We get invited to events, often to perform or to judge, but no one cares to pay for our time or expression. Poetry is not respected,” Chari expresses his frustration.
And his sentiment is seconded by Gurung: “Nepali society respects writers and poets but there is no support system to serve that vocation. There is no reward monetarily and often, poets pay for their own books to be published.”
Gurung’s anthology of poetry, Dandelion Snow was published in 2020, and most of the people who bought his books have been friends. Poetry books are published with the expectancy of a prolonged shelf-life, he says.
<div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2Ffyx1OHnmvK8&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>
And yet that does not deter the courage of Bohora, who hopes someday to pull together a book of her poems. “That’s the dream, I’ve been carrying. Someday, I’d like to do a book of my own,” she says. “My words have done what my father’s sweat hasn’t.”
When the likes of Rupi Kaur and Nayyira Waheed stormed Instagram’s little boxes with their anecdotes, poetry appeared to have found a new platform for revival. While it has also given birth to debates about what really is poetry, then, if it can be dashed off in incomplete sentences and expressions.
“At least it’s helped other poets see, that it is possible to sell,” says Gurung.
In Kathmandu, a surge in performance poetry was seen in the last decade with Word Warriors performing at different events, raising pertinent personal and political questions, while also creating space for young writers to form their own groups.
But poetry has also been used to challenge. In the recent anti-government protests, the crowd cheered as Sapna Sanjeevani recited: Ab hum Sita Nai Banbo, refusing to the submission that Sita had to adhere to. And it is a sentiment that resonates with many women writers of the decade.
My country cries over&nbsp;
burnt flags,
borders,
the birth lore of gods,
not the bodies of desecrated dead girls;
My country says I am a Goddess.&nbsp;
Neha Rayamajhi's a poem published in <a href="https://lalitmag.com/my-country-loves-me/">LaLit magazine</a> is steeped in sadness and anger. There is sarcasm. There is mostly protest in her words:
My country asks me&nbsp;
for my father’s name.
Men who are dead,
or have become ghosts
they own me more than the women who birth me:
My country asks me to love this motherland.
<div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DpUCYMTNmnEs&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div>
“Writing poetry is creating something beautiful out of sometimes messy and ugly emotions. It also means clamining and reclaiming power from those experiences,” says Rayamajhi.
Her words are representative of the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/everyday-as-if-it-is-womens-day/" target="_blank">new generation of Nepali women</a>, who dare to question traditions passed down to them and laws that threaten to bind them. The refrain carries the irony of the idea of motherland while being force to disrespect mothers, who are allowed to birth children but never allowed to be citizens.
But to not be citizens is not limited to being <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-waits-for-an-unequal-citizenship-law/" target="_blank">unable to pass down your identity to your children</a>. It can sometimes be tangled in memories of who we were and who we have become.
Away in Oxford, Mukahang Limbu’s life unfolds to his audience on his Instagram stories as he cooks meals with fellow students and lives the life that has the semblance of a typical university life. But this award winning poet recreates the idea of home in his posts through foods as much as he does in unfinished, dangling sentences.
Away from home, we often discover ourselves more closely. Home, then becomes an idea. Home can be the taste of a vegan ice-cream made from cashew milk in Manhattan, sometimes. But home can also be fried-rice eaten on repeat when you live far away from home.&nbsp;
Home can also be friends who do not ask you questions, just as home can be a tandoori sandwich eaten during a conversation with strangers you have just begun to trust.
And so these lines by <a href="https://nationalpoetryday.co.uk/poem/when-i-first-came-from-nepal/">Limbu resonate</a> with so many of us:
I know now 
In this place, where I did not know, the things I did not know embrace me in ways 
I didn’t know.

Sahina Shrestha

Pratibha Tuladhar

Young Nepali poets in search of poetic license

This is the first instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal. Nepal’s Forest Railways As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-border-trains-that-connected-nepal"> India’s railway network </a>expanded in the 1890s and 1900s, the demand for wooden railway sleepers, called ‘ties’ in America, likewise increased. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Rana regime</a> realised that western Nepal’s dense forests, from which sal trees could be extracted and sold, represented a valuable source of revenue. There was a problem of accessing large tracts of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">Tarai forests</a>. However, once Indian railway lines are extended to Nepal’s border in several places, this issue could be resolved by constructing logging railways, also known as ‘tramways’ or ‘light railways’. The Nepal Government awarded a contract to Punjabi timber contractors to supply 15,000 sal sleepers to Chandan Chauki station of India’s Oudh &amp; Rohilkhand State Railway in 1908. The contractors also received a concession to construct a steam tramway to run 48km into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s forests</a> for cutting and transporting trees. The author found no records, however, indicating that such an ambitious tramway was built in 1908. The hewn logs were probably carried into India by bullock carts or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elephants-become-white-elephants">elephants</a>. The earliest known forest railway in Nepal was built in 1914 in the southwestern corner of the present-day Parsa district. A British engineer went to the Indian border town of Bikna Thori to plan a 4-mile portable light railway for the transport of timber from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">the forest of Chitwan </a>to the Thori depot on the Bengal &amp; Northwestern Railway. This short line was laid upon wooden sleepers, and its rails could be taken up and repositioned when logging in one section of the forest was completed. This forest railway was in operation at least through 1917.&nbsp; A few year down the line in 1923, J V Collier of the Indian Forest Service built a narrow-gauge railway in Kailali district also to export of timber to India. This line, the Nepal Government Forest Railway, departed Chandan Chauki in Uttar Pradesh and ran 48km northwest into Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1130" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's little railways"> <figcaption>A Nepal Government Forest train in Kailali District hauling sal sleepers in 1925. Photo: DAVID CHURCHILL </figcaption> </figure>  It was a 2-foot railway supported by 11kg rails. The line was ‘temporary’ in that as sal trees were thinned out in one area, railway tracks were shifted to uncut areas of the forest. The railway crossed seven small <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">rivers</a>, but the bridges were taken down during the summer and monsoon. Trains ran only from November to April. This forest railway purchased four 4-6-0T ‘tank’ engines built in Leeds, England. Each bogie could carry 100 broad-gauge sleepers, and two engines were needed to haul a 21-car train loaded with 2,100 sleepers. This huge commercial forest operation once employed about 14,000 men, most of them Indians. During one season, nearly 800,000 broad and metre-gauge sleepers were exported to India. When India suffered a depression in 1930, large scale operations came to an end. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rust-in-peace?fbclid=IwAR1_eg88TCOS6RGRW1af7WvaWx5mzh_rY8-vT1MnJxSs41QtCpaA988oXk8">Rust in peace</a>, Daniel W Edwards  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Rails extended north from this spot into the virgin sal forests of Bardia in western Nepal 100 years ago.  DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  A third railway was built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-big-bulls-of-bardia">Bardia </a>where some scattered rails and signs of an old roadbed were seen in the 1960s. It ran from Nishangada in India to Khairbhatti in Nepal. From there, stations heading south were Ranipur, Karmak, Taratal and Madhuwan. Collier likely <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-train-project-struggles-to-stay-on-track">built this railway </a>as well in the 1920s. An elderly man in Bardia in 2022, whose father had worked on this forest railway, was interviewed for this account. Kathmandu Valley’s Motor (Trolley) Railway Merchants importing goods from India via the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/business/ropeways-connecting-nepal,1749"> ropeway</a> Chandra Shamsher built in 1927 had to go to the ropeway’s terminus at Matatirtha near Thankot to claim their goods and then haul them 6km to the customs house Bhansar Adda at Teku for clearance and payment of customs duties. The Motor Railway was built to carry goods from the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16839"> ropeway station </a>directly to the customs office, making it cheaper and more convenient for merchants to receive their shipments. In December 1931, Prime Minister Bhim Shamsher issued an order (sanad) putting Lt Gen Singha Shamsher Rana in charge of building this rail line to Teku and on to ‘Nabalak Khana’ in Tripureswar, a distance of 10km. The project was subdivided into four sections or ‘phant’, and for each, budgets and timelines were established. There was bato phant (constructing the roadbed), lik sleeper and jordne phant (laying sleepers and joining the rails), culvert phant (installing culverts) and pul phant (building bridges). Colonel Kishore Narsingh Rana was put in charge of the sleeper and rail section, while Colonel Dilli Jung Thapa, an engineer at Ghar Kaj Adda, also was involved. The Motor Railway was completed by the end of 1933. In the beginning, the railway’s small wagons may have been pulled and pushed by men and bullocks. However, in 1938 a British railway manufacturer sent Nepal a four-wheel, 5½ ton, 2-foot narrow-gauge diesel-powered locomotive with mechanical transmission, hence the name motor railway. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive?fb_comment_id=3554227181262227_4263866616964943">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> Leaving Matatirtha, the trains passed Satungal, Naikap, the Bishnudevi Temple, crossed an iron bridge over Balkhu Khola, then to Ghattepakha, Sunagau, through what is now a section of Kuleshwor (‘Lik Marg’) to the Customs Office at Teku.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Lik Marg in Kuleswor, the former route of the Motor Trolley Railway. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1945, Motor Trolley had four engines, but spare parts was badly needed. The charge for transporting one maund (about 40kg) of cargo from Matatirtha to Teku was 50 paisa. Even though the trains ran slowly and only for a short distance, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fatalism-and-fatalities">accidents were not unknown</a>. A train loaded with rice, salt and cotton derailed on a curve in July 1946, and two railway employees were crushed under the cars and killed, five others were injured. Besides the driver and a brakeman, guards rode the trains to prevent theft of goods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>The author by the remains of the Balkhu Khola bridge built in 1932 with American steel. Photo: JEEVAN NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  By 1953, government budget estimates indicated the Motor Railway would break even with an income of Rs70,000 against Rs71,000 in expenditure. It appears the railway stopped service around 1957 with the opening of the Raj Path and the extension of the ropeway from Matatirtha to Bhansar Adda. Bent steel beams of the bridge across Balkhu Khola and two plaques recovered from the river a few years ago are the only remains of this railway today. Photos of the Motor Trolley Railway in operation are hard to come by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5189" height="1979" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The Kosi Project Railway (KPR) As early as 1941, India and Nepal considered building a dam on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kosi-s-sorrow-and-scope"> the Kosi River</a> to prevent destructive floods caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">monsoon rains</a>. Floods in 1950 inundated 500 villages in Bihar and left 500,000 people homeless. The two governments signed an agreement in 1954 to build a barrage on the Kosi, and King Mahendra and Prime Minister Nehru laid the foundation stone in April 1959. To transport stones from a quarry near Dharan to use in mixing concrete at the construction site, the Indian government, in charge of building the barrage, made plans to build a narrow-gauge railway linking Bihar and its border town of Bhimnagar with Nepal’s settlements at Chakraghatti, Chatra and Ghopa, the outskirts of Dharan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4011" height="2645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The section of the KPR in Nepal totaled 66km — the country’s longest railway to date. The stations south of Chakraghatti were Rajabas, Maduhuwan, Kushaha, Haripur and Bhantabari. The line built, operated and owned by the Indian Government, was opened in 1958 and known locally as Dhunge (stone) Rail. Procuring locomotives, wagons and other materials was a challenge. India’s Railway Board searched the country for old 41 lb rails, and located steam engines, most built around 1910, in poor condition, and stored in ‘retirement’. These decrepit locomotives were later cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining engines running, and six newer locomotives built in Yugoslavia were sent to the KPR in 1960 to prevent the railway from shutting down and halting construction of the barrage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b.bmp" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3171" height="2069" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>KPR locomotives, water tank and staff at Chakraghatti in Nepal. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Used bogie-wagons (gondolas) came from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-nepal-rail-diplomacy">Indian railways</a> that had been converted to metre-gauge, others were manufactured in Muzaffarpur without couplers due to the non-availability of steel. A hundred new wagons arrived from Japan, but only half could be put in service, as couplers from the other 50 were removed and attached to the Muzaffarpur wagons. This smorgasbord of equipment kept shop mechanics and work crews busy, but now-abandoned railways in Nepal always operated under less-than-ideal conditions. Although the purpose of the KPR was to transport gravel, stones and boulders to the site of the barrage, photographs show people riding in loaded wagons. Excluding Dharan, there was no bus service through the wild animal infested jungle between Dharan and Chakraghatti or along the dusty paths linking other small villages on the KPR, so patient locals sat in wagons at Dharan, waiting perhaps for hours for trains to depart.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_24" data-image-id="20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3965" height="2659" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ticketless riders on a train of gravel and stones in the forest between Dharan and Chakragatti in 1966. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Sons of former railway workers in Chakraghatti say that there were no fixed schedules, three or four trains ran both ways daily in the early 1960s. Southbound trains carried gravel, stones and boulders, while northbound trains would carry coal, cement and provisions, including sacks of coins to pay the workers. Trains even ran at night, and the crews worked long hours. Workers received free housing in project-built tenements but had to buy food supplies and items for personal use. The Babu Saheb or the superintendent lived at Chakraghatti, and at one time supervised more than 1,000 employees, nearly all of them from India. The barrage was completed in 1964, but by 1970, the Kosi Project Railway had passed into history. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal.

Nepal’s five little railways

· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Rain bombs

The cost of preserving Nepal’s past

Turkish Airlines is official airline partner for the second edition of the Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League (EWV). The league, scheduled for 5-13 September, will take place in Pokhara and feature 18 international players alongside elite Nepali volleyball talent. The agreement was signed by Turkish General Manager Serkan Başar, and EWV CEO Snevy Chapagain. “Turkish Airlines’ support ensures a seamless journey and adds immense prestige to the league’s goal of women’s empowerment through sports as well as the agenda of sports tourism,” said Chapagain. “We are thrilled to partner with Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League as the official airline. With this association, we aim to support women role models in sports. We believe this association will connect countries to Nepali volleyball,” remarked Basar.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Turkish"> </figure>

nepali-poets

Laxmi Prasad Devkota in English

Young Nepali poets in search of poetic license

Nepal’s five little railways

Rain bombs

The cost of preserving Nepal’s past

Turkish to sponsor women’s volleyball league