Traditional thangka and paubha painters spend months hunched in small rooms making meticulous pieces of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">devotional art </a>that follow ancient canons and style. These are not starving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-world-of-a-working-artist">artists </a>hoping to make it big, these are professionals who have trained for years under strict rules and masters. They know their level, and know that a piece will take about three months of full-time work. They set a standard price that reflects three months’ wages in Nepal. Local and foreign buyers visit the studios regularly, to acquire the pieces to keep or sell. That is often the last the artists see of their work -- they do not know where in the world it has gone, or how many times it has changed hands and for what prices. This can be a problem because<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-decades-of-lok-chitrakar"> traditional art</a> is often unsigned, so artists go unrecognised. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tsherin-sherpa-returns-home-to-takpa">Collectors and galleries</a> may also be hesitant to buy or exhibit a piece if they cannot say for sure where it came from. This is an even bigger problem in thangka and paubha because making pristine copies of the works of masters is not seen as forgery or a violation of intellectual property, but as a test of their ability to adhere to sacred tenets.&nbsp; “When senior masters paint a piece, and photos of it get out, it gets copied immediately. I have heard stories of collectors selling these copies as if they were the original,” says Thimi-based artist Sundar Shrestha, who made a switch from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-world-beyond-thangkas,3139">contemporary art to paubha</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250810140828_00b0ced5e1745c2c168fef4d4124f2165cf1a84a42376da96da2c7b62b00d870.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250810140828_00b0ced5e1745c2c168fef4d4124f2165cf1a84a42376da96da2c7b62b00d870" data-rendition-name="original" width="832" height="1248" loading="lazy" alt="Digital verification of traditional art"> </figure>  The Kathmandu-based <a href="https://himalayanartcouncil.org/">Himalayan Art Council</a> is trying to resolve the issues of ownership and provenance of traditional Nepali art by building a cutting-edge system that issues a tamper-proof digital certificate to each artwork.&nbsp; The system tracks each time there is a transaction involving the piece, and provides a royalty to the artist each time. In doing so, the system also creates a detailed inventory of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/unnamed-masters-of-nepal-s-art-identified?mibextid=Zxz2cZ">Nepal’s traditional artforms</a>, which will prove valuable for future scholars or repatriation efforts. THE TEAM Behind this initiative is a team with activist-entrepreneur Sean Howell, curator and museologist Meena Lama, Mercantile CEO Sanjib Rajbhandari, and blockchain expert Bijay Bogati. Howell’s interest in the project started out through a connection to Nepal that began with a love for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/red-panda-on-the-red-list">red pandas</a>, and an invitation to promote <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/shrinking-tourism-s-ecological-footprint">eco-tourism</a>. Howell has a diverse background in finance, the tech world and social communication. He has been art commissioner for Seattle, and knows all about blockchains, the technology underpinning this art initiative. “I saw that there were many people working in art preservation in Nepal, and that current, living artists were facing problems,” explains Howell. He &nbsp;recognised that these problems had already been solved elsewhere in the world. “This technology is a low-cost, high-value solution that ensures artists receive fair value for their work while also establishing a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/digital-protection-for-nepal-s-art">digital archive of Nepali art</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250810140832_65be31ea44d6076462ce36b2d96594a874f42c24915459f23c7f75471e1547ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250810140832_65be31ea44d6076462ce36b2d96594a874f42c24915459f23c7f75471e1547ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Digital verification of traditional art"> </figure>  "Trust is paramount for collectors," says Howell. "<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-craft-of-art">Thangka art</a> has high market value globally that is not reflected in local transactions due to the opaque nature of its sales." Building the actual system is a team of software engineers that works out of the Mercantile office in Kathmandu, led by Bijay Bogati. Bogati transitioned to blockchain in 2019 after working with Khalti as a founding engineer, and held remote senior software engineer positions for German and US-based companies. “The most interesting part of this project is how this futuristic technology is being used in Nepal to create a digital ledger of this huge legacy of traditional artists and art,” says the soft-spoken Bogati. Holding together the whole operation is curator Meena Lama, who has an MA in Museology and Buddhist Collections. She says, “While there is undoubtedly a commercial side to this project, the most important thing is that it helps digitally archive traditional Himalayan art and makes it much easier to study. Especially as many of the country’s finest works of art are held in private collections and risk being lost to time, damage, or disappearance. To kickstart the project, Lama and the team selected fifty significant pieces of thangka and paubha from different artists, certified them at no cost, and exhibited them at the Patan Museum last month. Lama’s connection to the art world and Bogati’s expertise in this new technology have also been important to get artists to buy in to the project. “Initially, other artists and I were a little skeptical,” admits Sundar Shrestha. “But I had worked with Meena on exhibits before, and Bijay’s grasp of the tech put me to ease and made me quite excited.” THE TECH In the big picture, blockchain technology is part of a movement in tech referred to as ‘Web3’, which is widely regarded as the next evolution of the internet. Instead of central authorities that control data and user-experience, such as Facebook or Google, Web3 aims to devolve power over many users, giving them more of a say over their identity, online interactions, and transactions. One of the goals is to make digital records as reliable as physical ones, and secure enough for banking or legal transactions. Art and cultural heritage can be protected by the same trusted tools. The Himalayan Art Council’s project follows long-established international standards by adding a secure, centralised digital layer to every record, which safeguards traditional art, gives it global credibility, and connects it to the same trusted systems used by leading institutions around the world. The key concept for Web3 and the Himalayan Art Council’s project is blockchain, a technology without central authority that records transactions in a way that is both secure and transparent. Each transaction is a ‘block’, and is linked mathematically to the transaction that happened before it to create a ‘chain’ of digital records across computers, following the same security protocols used in banking. Altering the details of any one transaction requires all the computers that are linked to agree, making tampering or fraud virtually impossible.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250810140832_5c4da6fbadb885af81ceab7f223a7ef041fb62d718a1c5543ec9cba5414b9499.png" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250810140832_5c4da6fbadb885af81ceab7f223a7ef041fb62d718a1c5543ec9cba5414b9499" data-rendition-name="original" width="1023" height="690" loading="lazy" alt="Digital verification of traditional art"> </figure>  Himalayan Art Council would take varied data about the painting: authorship, high-resolution images, chain of ownership, transaction history and feed it into an algorithm that creates a ‘hash’, or a unique identifier for that particular piece. This hash then is turned into a QR code included on the art. Then anyone can scan the code to check the piece’s history and legitimacy. A key feature is that every time the piece is resold, the original artist can opt to automatically receive royalties worth up to 10% of the value, and can choose whether this money goes directly to their family, a trust, or a monastery. Bogati points out a key caveat: “The word blockchain is strongly associated with cryptocurrency, which is not legal in Nepal, and not what we are doing. We are using the features of blockchain that make it an excellent system of digital registry.” THE ARTISTS As an artist, Sundar Shrestha says the Himalayan Art Council initiative inspires hope especially because it is finally about paying royalties.&nbsp; “This is a new concept in traditional art,” says Shrestha, who notes that his Newari traditional artist forebears painted their whole life, often with no recognition and remuneration.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250810140840_4103d15ff14d9042063f3ae2ee3ae159cd7a37b11b34f2c9edbe7cdccd5f520f.png" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250810140840_4103d15ff14d9042063f3ae2ee3ae159cd7a37b11b34f2c9edbe7cdccd5f520f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1804" height="2014" loading="lazy" alt="Digital verification of traditional art"> </figure>  Over the lifetime of a body of work through multiple re-sales, the royalty system could make traditional art more worthwhile as a profession, and get more Nepali artists to take it up.However, Shrestha admits that the traditional system also has its merits, and will not go away very soon. He says, “Artists are incredibly focused on their work, because they have to be. Collectors and sellers understand art markets in Nepal and abroad much better than we do, and they bring in regular work that gives us an income and keeps us from starving.” Part of the skill of a collector is the exhibitions they hold or the relationships they cultivate in high society, which they want to have some secrecy about, says Shrestha, who plans to use both channels to sell his work. The Himalayan Art Council’s digital initiative would also remove the taboo about talking about the price of traditional art. “Sometimes a student’s painting might sell for higher than the master’s, which can be disrespectful.” Says Shrestha. “And the general sentiment is that paubha are sacred and should be a meditation and a discipline, and that artists are not in it for commercial reasons.”

Vishad Raj Onta

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Digital verification of traditional art

Whenever Nepali art is mentioned, the first things that come to mind are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival/" target="_blank">thangka</a> paintings or bronze Tara. Now, an exhibition at Europe’s foremost ethnographic museum in Vienna &nbsp;paints a surprisingly vibrant picture of contemporary art in Nepal.
The <a href="https://www.weltmuseumwien.at/ausstellungen/nepal-art-now/" target="_blank">Nepal Art Now</a> exhibition at the <a href="https://www.weltmuseumwien.at/" target="_blank">Weltmuseum Wien</a> is the largest ever exhibition of modern Nepali art outside the country, and includes 130 paintings, sculptures, video art and installations by 40 artists from Nepal.
“This is an exhibition that showcases the creativity and energy of Nepali artists who redefine the influence of the West, and it shows how the local, national and global permeate each other,” said Christian Schicklgruber, director of the Weltmuseum Wien, who co-curated this exhibition.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-art-now-in-vienna/">Nepal Art Now in Vienna</a>
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Schicklgruber and the late <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/complete-projects-of-Dina-Bangdel,977" target="_blank">Dina Bangdel</a> came up with the idea for a major exhibition three years ago. Bangdel died suddenly in 2017, but the project went ahead in her memory with co-curator Swosti Rajbhandari Kayastha of the Nepal Art Council. In the mezzanine of the Weltmuseum is another presentation of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/mithila-art-with-a-message/" target="_blank">Maithil art</a> by female painters, put together by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Himalayan-style-kelly-burkert-book-review,2032" target="_blank">Claire Burkert</a>.
“The hardest part of the exhibition was to select art works from more than 800,” recalls Kayastha. “We worked extra hours to curate it, and had to leave behind many works by artists we knew. But these paintings represent the best of Nepali art today.”
Indeed, the works by <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2017/07/26/using-art-for-social-change/" target="_blank">Hit Man Gurung</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/nepali-artists-showcase-work-on-migrant-workers-in-dhaka-art-summit,1110" target="_blank">Sunil Sigdel</a>, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/amalgam-2014-review,1489" target="_blank">Sanjeev Maharjan</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-world-beyond-thangkas,3139" target="_blank">Ang Tsherin Sherpa</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5323" target="_blank">Asha Dangol</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2012/09/20/intolerance-of-tolerance/" target="_blank">Manish Harijan</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3817#.XLXCw4kza70" target="_blank">Ashmina Ranjit</a>, among others, represent world-class talent that blend traditional Nepali art forms like paubha, wood carving and metal work, with modern elements. Although ‘modern’ has come to mean ‘western’, the exhibition is proof that Nepal is now recognised as a centre for contemporary art that shuns western homogeneity, and has carved out its own space based on tradition, shared national history, and cosmopolitan influences.
“When you said Nepali art in the past, people expected traditional art forms. What we see at this exhibition is the vibrancy and creativity of contemporary Nepali art, the role of women, as well as the global and local impact of the works. Being an ethnographic institution, it makes sense to have the exhibition at the Weltmuseum,” director general Sabine Haag said at the inauguration here last week.
Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5941#.XLhM1jAzbIU">In Vienna museum, Nepalis worship stolen Buddha</a>, Erwin Melchart
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Even though some of the art works are rooted in Nepali culture and traditions, they use modern forms of oil and canvas, installations and sculptures to address contemporary issues like exclusion, social justice, gender, conflict, the 2015 earthquakes, the commodification of religion, migration and the environment. In fact, many of the works are not just aesthetic or spiritual in their function but are imbued with deep socio-political commentary.
The inaugural ceremony of the exhibition at the Weltmuseum featured the Himalayan Quartet, led by Nepali composer Rupak Kumar Shahisamuda, which played several fusion pieces based on popular Nepali folk songs. The Weltmuseum is located in Vienna’s Hofburg, the winter palace of the Hapsburgs that became infamous for a speech given by Adolf Hitler from one of its balconies after the Anschluss (forced unification of Germany and Austria) in 1938.
Nepal’s traditional carvings and paintings by anonymous masters that adorn temples and monuments have been worshipped over the centuries, and are still regarded as embodiments of the divine. However, they came to be regarded as ‘art’ after being stolen and exhibited in museums in Europe and America, and were detached from their original spiritual value.
The contemporary Nepali art on exhibit here is defined not by its style, but by paintings, sculptures and installations that were created in the past 50 years, with diverse themes ranging from devotional, social commentary, abstract and modern.
Most of the artists have shunned ‘Western’ techniques, and gone global to develop a unique grammar of their own. Says Schicklgruber: “Modernism had Paris, London and New York as its traditional centres of art. In the postmodernist age other cities have joined this exclusive club. One of them is Kathmandu.”
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/new-newa-art/">New Newa art</a>, Sewa Bhattarai
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Before going to Vienna, Nepal Art Now was <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-art-now-in-vienna/" target="_blank">pre-exhibited</a> at the Nepal Art Council in Kathmandu in December 2018. Most of the works on display are different from both traditional Nepali art and western postmodernism. You can see influences of Picasso, Matisse and Warhol, but almost as parody. Mona Lisa also appears in Manuj Babu Mishra’s famous ‘selfie portrait’.
Manish Harijan’s audacious renditions of deities duelling with modern cartoon characters are a critique of the commercialisation of religion, and got him into hot water with fundamentalists in 2012. Asha Dangol’s theme deals with disasters like earthquakes and environmental degradation.
One could say that Nepali artists are not influenced by the ‘West’ but by ‘trans-continentalism’, fusing Nepali religious and cultural visual metaphors with modern techniques giving our vernacular a new spin – turning the local into global.
Nepal Art Now
Open daily except Wednesdays
10AM – 6PM
Adults €12
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<h2>Maithil folk art now</h2>
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The mezzanine floor of the Nepal Art Now exhibition at the Weltmuseum in Vienna is devoted to Maithil art from the Janakpur Women’s Development Centre. The separate exhibit proves that contemporary Nepali art needs to look beyond Kathmandu Valley. In the 30 years since the establishment of the Centre, women painters in Mahottari have developed as individual artists, and used traditional techniques and styles to experiment with new expressions. The exhibit includes self-portraits of these ight artists, along with photos and their life stories in their own words: Anuraghi Jha, Remani Mandal, Rebti Mandal, Suhagbati Saha, Madhumala Mala, Manjula Thakur, Sailo Yadav, Sudhira Karna, Komal Purbe, Rajkumari Mandal, Nirmala Ram, Renu Yadav, Pano Das and Indrakala Nidhi. Their paintings are arranged by theme from traditional imagery to depictions of planes, motorcycles, radios, irons and sewing machines. The paintings are fresh, original, and give the artists of Maithil the recognition they are long due. Curated by Claire Burkert.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/mithila-art-with-a-message/">Mithila art with a message</a>, Prakriti Kanel
<h2>The Chitrakars of Kathmandu</h2>
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Ever since <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-life-and-times-of-arniko/">Arniko travelled to the court of Kublai Khan</a> in the 14th century, Nepali artists have ventured abroad, and picked up new techniques. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pencilling-in-kathmandu-rajman-singh-chitrakar,3379" target="_blank">Raj Man Chitrakar</a> did sketches and watercolours with British resident and naturalist <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3246#.XLbXFIkza70" target="_blank">Brian Houghton Hodgson</a> in the mid-19th century and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5358#.XLbXQ4kza70" target="_blank">Bhaju Man Chitrakar</a> accompanied <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/the-rest-is-history-for-john-whelpton/" target="_blank">Jang Bahadur</a> to Victorian England in 1850. It was <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2051#.XLbX2Ykza70" target="_blank">Dirgha Man Chitrakar</a> who travelled to England with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751" target="_blank">Chandra Shumsher Rana</a> in 1908, and there is a long line of Newa artists including <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2051#.XLbX2Ykza70" target="_blank">Tej B Chitrakar</a> right down to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671" target="_blank">Lok Chitrakar</a> in the present day, whose <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11339#.XLbYj4kza71" target="_blank">pauba</a> of Vasudhara is among the exhibits in Vienna.
Coinciding with the Nepal Art Now exhibition was <a href="https://www.dieangewandte.at/en/news/exhibitions/detail?artikel_id=1551192322335" target="_blank">Preserving a Legacy</a>, an exhibition of photographs by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Illustrated-history-of-chitrakars-nepal,3655" target="_blank">four generations of Chitrakars</a> at the <a href="https://www.dieangewandte.at/en" target="_blank">University of Applied Arts</a> in Vienna. The exhibition, which ended on 12 April, included prints by Dirgha Man Chitrakar, Ganesh Man Chitrakar, Kiran Man Chitrakar and Swaraj Man Chitrakar.
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Illustrated-history-of-chitrakars-nepal,3655">An illustrated history of the Chitrakars</a>, &nbsp;Sahina Shrestha

Kunda Dixit

Nepali Art going places

<h2>The cultural legacy of Nepal’s famous son can still be seen across East Asia</h2> <figure><img width="1000" height="614" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6609c7e80680e03147ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>An artist's rendering of the White Dagoba (stupa) built by Arniko, that still stands at the Miao Ying temple in Beijing. </figcaption></figure>Stamps have been issued, a highway has been named after him, he has been declared one of Nepal’s national icons. But 900 years later Arniko still remains very much an enigma in the country of his birth. In China, however, where Arniko went as a master architect to the court of Kublai Khan in 1260, he is still respected. He was given the title of Duke of Liang, and a memorial stele marks the spot where he was cremated in Hsiang Sheng near Beijing. A biography was written about him, and the Yuan genealogy contains a chapter on him.It is because of these reliable sources from Chinese sources that today we are able to trace the story of this remarkable historical figure from Kathmandu, even though details about him in Nepal itself are patchy.In 1260, the Mongol leader Kublai Khan asked his spiritual guru Phags-Pa to build a golden stupa in Tibet. When the patriarch of Tibetan Buddhism’s Shakya sect asked the king of Nepal, Jaybhimdev Malla, for a hundred artists the king could muster only 80. Sixteen-year-old Arniko, already known as a child prodigy, volunteered to lead them. “The fact that they needed Nepali artists proves just how developed Nepal’s art and architecture were at that time,” explains art historian Manuj Babu Mishra. “In fact, the sixth-century Changu Narayan Temple pre-dated Arniko and indicates the richness of Nepal’s artistic past.”Due to the decline of Buddhism in the subcontinent Tibet looked upon Nepal as the source of Buddhist wisdom and philosophy. Phags-pa was so impressed with Arniko’s stupas that he trained him into  monkhood and sent him to Beijing to meet the Great Khan himself. Arniko impressed Kublai Khan (Genghis Khan’s grandson) by repairing a bronze statue, and went on to build the White Dagoba, which is a Beijing landmark to this day.  <figure><img width="1750" height="2091" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6629c7e80680e03147fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“China’s art and architecture were already highly developed, so China was not looking for just any architect from Nepal. What Arniko took to China was Buddhist architecture with its philosophy and symbolism,” says historian Satya Mohan Joshi, whose treatise on Arniko was published in 1988.  “for example the Chaitya in Swoyambhu and Baudha symbolised Chaitanya, or consciousness.”It is supposed to be Arniko who took Kathmandu Valley’s famous tiered temple style to China, from where it travelled to Korea and Kyoto. But while that is difficult to prove, Satya Mohan Joshi says Arniko took many other Nepali  elements north: the wooden gate, stone steps and carved windows (tikijhya) at the White Dagoba, its bronze spire (gajur), Nepali-style statues of Dipankar, Shakyamuni and Maitreya Buddha, Paubha paintings of deities like Mahakala, White Tara, Green Tara, Avalokiteswar.Amidst the ruins of the Cloud Terrace near the base of the Great Wall is a huge stone arch containing  images like the Garud, Nagkanya, crocodiles, elephants, and Panchabuddha. The white stupa in Nanking and other sites actually have inscriptions in Ranjana script – all vestiges of Arniko’s influence in China.Read Also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7263#.WvqndKSFPIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Resurrecting Arniko</a> After Arniko constructed three stupas, nine great Buddhist temples, two Confucian shrines, one Daoist temple, he was made the ‘master of all classes of artisans’. Prof Jing Anning at Michigan State University writes that Arniko made ‘new symbols of the emperor’s sovereignty, based on designs from Indic culture such as the dharmacakra (Wheel of the Law) which was used to lead imperial processions, and the image of Garuda, the celestial bird that was displayed over the imperial throne’.In another research paper, late historian Dina Bangdel states that Arniko’s works were instrumental in the conversion of Kublai Khan to Tantric Buddhism. ‘Phags-pa directed Arniko to create an image of Mahakala that was used in a protection ritual to aid Khan in his battles (which he won). Arniko’s Mahakala image became a powerful symbol of a leader’s authority to rule,’ Bangdel has written.Arniko also crafted scientific instruments like armillary spheres and water clocks. However, art works  that can be definitely attributed to him are rare. The Cleveland Museum says its image of Green Tara is by Arniko, while portraits of Kublai Khan and his wife Chabi at the National Palace Museum of Taiwan are believed to be by Arniko. <figure><img width="1250" height="1613" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6669c7e80680e031480jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Although these claims cannot be proven, Prof Anning says a bronze statue of Manjushri (dated 1305) now in the Palace Museum in Beijing and a brocade image of a three-faced, six-armed Guhyasamaja now in the Potala Palace in Lhasa are by Arniko. Arniko established a school of Nepali art in China which trained at least two of his own sons and thousands of Chinese artists. ‘By drawing inspiration from the artistic traditions of Pala, Nepal and China, Anige (Arniko) single-handedly created a new form of court art and promoted it through the huge artisan agencies under his leadership,’ Prof Anning writes.   The Italian traveller Marco Polo, who journeyed to China from 1271-1295, was a contemporary of Arniko. If they ever met, history has no record of it. Marco Polo is not even named in Chinese history. Ironically, while Marco Polo gained lasting fame after he returned home and wrote of his travels, Arniko despite the respect he commanded in the Chinese court, disappeared from world history after his death in 1306 at age 62.Satya Mohan Joshi thinks Arniko’s legacy is the enduring bond between Nepal and China, and cites the White Dagoba which was left alone even during the Cultural Revolution, and is still cared for and renovated with high priority by the Chinese state.He adds: “Nepal needs to live by the policy of panchasheel, and we have historic proof that Arniko espoused it. That is why he deserves to be our national icon.” <h2>Arniko meets Kublai Khan in Beijing</h2> After he arrived, the Emperor looked at him at some length before asking, “Are you afraid to come the big country?”He answered, “The sage (Kublai Khan) regards people in all directions as his sons. When a son comes to his father, what is there to fear?”“Why do you come?”He replied, “My family has been living in the west (Nepal) for generations. I took the imperial edict to build the stupa in Tibet for two years. I saw constant wars there, and wish Your Majesty could pacify them. I come for sentient beings.”“What do you practice?”He said, “I take my mind as my teacher and know roughly painting, casting and carving.”The Emperor was greatly pleased.(Extract from Arniko’s biography) <figure><img width="360" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6689c7e80680e031481jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>

The life and times of Arniko

Exhibition showcases contemporary Nepali Thangka and Paubha painters <figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101152/6368d62d9c7e80680e03146bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="930"/><figcaption>Muna Photos: Michael Gordon</figcaption></figure>Walk into most <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Paubha</a> or Thangka shops in Thamel or Durbar Marg, and you will probably hear a story about Tibetan monks grinding stone pigments high in the Himalaya. ‘Exotic’ spirituality has become as much of a brand as Iphones used to Instagram it, but in reality most of these paintings are produced by Tamangs, Gurungs, and Newars using inexpensive poster colors in warehouses around Boudha and Bhaktapur.The painting factories may not seem ‘authentic’, but for the artist it puts food on the table. The demands of economic survival and the need for cultural preservation create new terms of authenticity for paubha and thangka.Thangka and paubha were originally ritual objects for Vajrayana Buddhists. Many would like to separate what is sacred and what is sold, but this is a false distinction. The paintings always involved financial transactions.However, as secular art collectors and tourists buy more of them, profit drives commodification.Tularam Lama has been painting for over 25 years, yet he is still at the mercy of gallery dealers who do not share their profits with artists.“We are compelled to sell cheap,” says Lama, who founded the Nepal Association of Thangka Artists. He still strives to maintain artistic integrity, teaching Tamang students to paint with inexpensive pigments as well as to understand the tradition's cultural heritage.Some painters use the market to build connections. Bhim Thapa, manager of Tara Thangka Center in Thamel, donates 25% of his sales to his community in Sindhupalchok. Prior to the earthquake, Thapa’s sales supported orphan children and women’s education. Today he focuses on basic necessities like blankets and food. "Thangka is not about perfect iconography, says Thapa, “to help is my dharma.”At the other end of the spectrum, internationally renowned <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2014/10/05/devoted-to-painting/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Lok Chitrakar</a> paints with traditional mineral colors and works with scholastic rigour. He will be the first to gently remind you that paubha and thangka are not the same thing.Paubha was developed by the Newars of Kathmandu Valley in the 7th century. Nepali Princess Bhrikuti is said to have taken some of the images with her when she introduced Buddhism to Tibet 1,300 years ago. Over centuries, Tibetans developed their own stylistic code known as thangka. After the exile of the Dalai Lama in 1959, Tibet and its people gained increasing global popularity. Today, many tourists flock to Nepal as a surrogate for Tibet, hoping to find the monasteries (and thangkas) they saw in TinTin in Tibet and National Geographic documentaries.But what they find may defy expectations: Lok Chitrakar’s use of Hindu gods like Ganesh as icons of Newari Buddhism is not just an artistic choice, but a testimony to Nepal’s unique religious coexistence.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6309c7e80680e03146cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="889">For many, however, maintaining these traditions is oppressive. Historically, thangka and paubha were made by men, but today the field is changing thanks to women artists like Muna Moktan. For her thangka means not just employment but also empowerment. She supports her family and a school of aspiring Tamang artists (mostly girls) with her paintings.“Women need to find a way to live on their own means, and I found it through thangka,” says Moktan.Read Also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The art of gods</a>, Tsering Dolker GurungSonam Dolma guides (rather than ‘teaches’) students in ritual pursuit of perfection.Many painting production centers now use transparent plastic overlays to rapidly reproduce outlines. Sonam’s students at the Tsering Art school use black wooden boards thinly coated with ghee and dusted with white chalk- to repeatedly draw until outlies are memorised, “by hand, mind, and heart.” The painters begin and end each day with prayer, to remember the true purpose of their craft.One of Sonam’s top students, Karma Rinchhen Gurung, paints to strengthen his practice as a Buddhist monk. At 15, he entered Samten Ling Monastery, and like his monastic vows, his painting brings him freedom through discipline. He considers his practice meditation, focusing his mind and brush on a single point. People often ask if he paints to make money. He himself wonders: “Am I doing this for dharma or for economic reasons?” Many students at Tsering Art School, including monks, paint for private dealers to afford living in Kathmandu.Read Also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Illustrated-history-of-chitrakars-nepal,3655" target="_blank" rel="noopener">An illustrated history of the Chitrakars</a>,  Sahina Shrestha<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107101156/6368d6329c7e80680e03146djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="986"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The foreign interest in thangka and paubha has also encouraged artistic individuality. <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3915#.WvP2AH_BXIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tenzin Norbu</a> comes from a 400 year old lineage of thangka painters.Each new generation <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-world-beyond-thangkas,3139" target="_blank" rel="noopener">broke away from the stylistic trends</a> of their predecessors. Norbu now illustrates modern Dolpo life and has shown around the world from the Rubin Museum in New York to Luxembourg Gardens in Paris. His ancestors never signed their paintings, believing in the collective accumulation of merit. Norbu now champions his distinct style as an emblem of personal entrepreneurship.For some, the craft is a way of maintaining cultural and spiritual lineage. For others, redefining not only what is painted, but who gets to paint affirms the rapid democratisation of the art from. To all artists, the paintings are a means of sacred survival, providing both sanctuary and subsistence.Sacred Survival, an exhibition of seven contemporary thangka and paubha artists 11 to 21 May, Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Curated by Michael Gordon.

Sacred survival

In 2003, the death by police firing of a student protesting a rise in fuel prices pushed Nepal’s student activists to join the प्रतिगमन विरोधी आन्दोलन (Movement Against Regression), which political parties had begun after king Gyanendra’s sacking an elected government a year before. The students’ participation elevated the movement and prompted more Nepalis to join in, leading to the People’s Movement that first sidelined the monarchy and then abolished it in 2008.&nbsp; That took five years to happen. But 12 years later, this month, a youth-led protest forced the prime minister to resign within 30 hours.&nbsp; Police massacred GenZ activists, many of them students, outside Parliament on 8 September. This intensified public anger, leading to targeted attacks, looting, and burning of the homes of political leaders, private businesses, and public buildings.&nbsp; Amid the smouldering ruins of state institutions, young Nepalis chose a new prime minister to lead an interim government and deliver a fresh mandate. All of this happened in five days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="8000" height="5760" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Parliament building up in flames during the GenZ protest on 9 September. Photo: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  Students have been central to Nepal’s democratic and political process since the mid 20th century. In her 2018 book Making New Nepal, researcher Amanda Thérèse Snellinger traces the history of student activism and politics against a background of &nbsp;Nepal’s socio-political history and party politics.&nbsp; Snellinger examines the interplay of ideology and identity, explores how student activists fit into a political landscape continually occupied by the traditional elite, and details how student leaders have established themselves through relationships with influential actors on local, national, regional, and transnational levels. The Rana regime’s repression caused students to be politically aware. In 1947, students held the first organised protest against the Rana autocracy demanding educational reforms. The breadth of student activism expanded during the Panchayat era after king Mahendra banned political parties, which drove mainstream politicians and parties underground. &nbsp;Student activists then became proxies for multiparty democracy because they were still able to organise.&nbsp; Student politics was institutionalised, and unions emerged as vanguard sister organisations of political parties. Student activism, more so than mainstream political parties, played key roles during &nbsp;both major movements in 1990 and the 2000s, as they mobilised the citizenry to join the democratic process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1952" height="2928" loading="lazy" alt="1990 people's movement Nepal"> <figcaption>The iconic image of the 1990 People's Movement agaist the autocratic Panchyat regime of the king. Photo: MIN RATNA BAJRACHARYA</figcaption> </figure>  Through extensive ethnographic research between 2003 and 2015, Snellinger investigates the political coming of age of student activists during the final years of the armed insurgency and their role in and beyond the movement that ultimately abolished the monarchy. Her research revolves around the political journeys of five student activists: Akash and Rishi from the Nepali Congress (NC) student wing Nepal Student Union (NSU), Salini from the UML’s All Nepal National Free Students’ Union (ANNFSU-Akhil), Gyanu from ANNISU-Revolutionary of the Maoists, and Lagan, who began his political journey from Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party’s student wing Nepal Krantikari Bidyarthi Sangathan. The ‘movement against regression’ in 2003 served as the entry point &nbsp;for activists into national party politics. Indeed, it was their &nbsp;participation in the movement that elevated the profile of the main subjects of Snellinger’s research. In the years that followed, the paths of the five activists diverged. Some made it into mainstream politics, even becoming lawmakers. In doing so, they have had to trade idealism for pragmatism, and their attempts realise their previous vision for Nepal’s democracy have been overshadowed by their political opportunism and position. And even decades after they began their journey as student activists, the generation that the book focuses on are still considered &nbsp;‘youth’ leaders. Snellinger quotes a former student leader who joined mainstream politics as saying: “I am still a youth because &nbsp;my aspirations remain unfulfilled.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="2006 People's Movement of Nepal"> <figcaption>A student protester wearing a paper crown and ridiculing Gyanendra with an impersonation, a day after king stepped down and left his palace. Photo: AJAY JOSHI / A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption> </figure>  Meanwhile, the refusal of Nepal’s octogenarian leaders to retire (even after The upheaval this month) has created a surplus of younger adults waiting in the wings, making the word ‘youth’ relative in Nepal’s political trajectory. Other subjects of Snellinger's research have retreated from student and mainstream activism, either in disappointment over their mother party’s retreat from some of their more radical positions, or to &nbsp;continue their work at the community level through education and journalism. One of them has leveraged her political connections to further women-led initiatives after unsuccessful election bids. Nearing the end of her research in 2015, Snellinger observes the disappointment of Madhesi communities whose movement to demand more inclusive provisions of the draft Constitution had gone in vain, even after 45 lives were lost.&nbsp; As the Constitution was promulgated in 2015, TVs were switched off in the Tarai, and there were sighs of resignation. In Kathmandu, Snelllinger noted that the student leaders that entered mainstream politics protesting for inclusive democracy had little empathy for the struggles and similar demands of groups in the Madhes. Despite the students’ role in ending the monarchy, Nepal’s political status quo has remained. The institutions and people that replaced the &nbsp;monarchy have allowed one set of Kathmandu elites to be replaced with another.&nbsp; The socio-political benefits promised during the movement two &nbsp;decades ago have remained tightly controlled by leaders who refuse to give up their hold on power. The political system was overhauled, but without concrete reform. It was only a matter of time before public frustration would boil over. Indeed, Snellinger concludes her book by predicting the inevitability of future movements in Nepal.&nbsp; She writes: ‘Leaders emerge through the andolan … a new generation will emerge shaped by Nepal’s accumulated socio-political heritage, which they will mediate to shape a liveable present and future for themselves in their country, perhaps by continuing the movement.’&nbsp; And that is exactly what happened on 8-9 September. Students marched in the streets demanding an end to corruption and impunity, but this time not as proxies of political parties.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Gen Z protest"> <figcaption>A student during the GenZ protest against acorruption on 8 September. Photo: SUDIKSHA TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Their desire for socio-political reform was apolitical at a time in Nepal’s history when the nation’s student organisations have weakened and lost credibility, mirroring the erosion of trust in their parent parties. Along with party-based student unions, the Free Student Union (FSU)— the umbrella body all student unions—has lost its reputation due to corruption and embezzlement. That is not to say there are no similarities in movements past and present. Whether political or apolitical, protests have been overshadowed by a lack of unity within the groups that spearhead movements. They have led to destruction of public and private institutions.&nbsp; Leaders of youth and student movements have also had to bear the brunt of the frustration of the people they represent when there is no delivery on their demands. The academics of students have suffered because of frequent lockouts of university and college administration. Youth andolan, whether political or apolitical, has been a rite of passage into Nepali democratic politics — dissensus is an integral part of political regeneration. It remains to be see how the fall &nbsp;from grace of political parties after the GenZ movement will affect their affiliated student unions. As elections approach, student unions and youth collectives will find their own footing in Nepal’s &nbsp;newly emerging socio-political landscape. The youth who took to the streets are asking for a complete overhaul for political parties. Establishmentarian leaders still have not seen the writing on the wall.&nbsp; NextGen leaders in their parties have been waiting for years for their turn &nbsp;to break through the glass ceiling. These established political actors will not go down without a fight in the run-up to March elections.&nbsp; Amanda Thérèse Snellinger perhaps needs a post-script or even a sequel to her book to see how a new generation of leaders, forged by their student activism, will compete in Nepal's new political arena.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Making new Nepal book details NT"> </figure>

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

What does a journalist do when young protesters are shot in front of her? Does she do her job and stay neutral? Can you stay neutral?&nbsp; As protests engulfed Kathmandu, Nepal's journalists found themselves reporting a story that was personal. While doing their job, some of them were even targeted by mobs.&nbsp; Dart Asia Pacific Fellow <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/arunkarki/" target="_blank">Arun Karki</a> visited their newsrooms and spoke with his colleagues on their experience of reporting the GenZ protests that erupted on 8 September. These are the first-hand accounts of journalists who witnessed the turmoil in the city they call home. Sunita Karki was at a workshop in a hotel on 8 September. She saw the first waves of protests through hotel windows. Curfew alerts flooded her phone, a vehicle belonging to a human rights group sat burning across the road, young boys were taking their wounded friends on motorbikes to the Everest Hospital, and police were beating a teenager with hands raised up.&nbsp; “I cried a lot,” she said, but the tears were not out of fear -- they were because she felt guilt. “I couldn’t write the news. We were witnessing these scenes from a five-star hotel.” By evening, the death toll had reached 19. On 9 September at about 3:35 p.m. &nbsp;her outlet, the Annapurna Post's office in Tinkune, Kathmandu, was set on fire. Staff had to leave the building as parts of the newsroom burnt down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dart Centre Asia Pacific"> </figure>  When she knew her office was burning, she anxiously told her husband that she would resign from the job: "If we have to hide our identification cards in every protest, what kind of journalist am I?" she asked herself. She filed a story the next day, but her emotions kept bouncing between that of a journalist’s duty and shock. She said that in moments like this, it’s hard to feel truly neutral. After watching the police beat people, she felt a strong urge to step in, not just stand back and report. The first real calm came later, when people came to the street and lit small candles together. “This was a sort of victory procession. I felt some relief after brutal days,” she said. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/angaddhakal/" target="_blank">Angad Dhakal</a> a photojournalist who works at Kantipur National Daily, was standing outside his office building when protesters stormed in and set parts of it on fire. He had already been informed that protesters were planning to torch his office building and &nbsp;rushed to his office hoping to save his hard drives containing ten years of photography work. He failed. He raised his camera and "forcefully" pressed the shutter - more to document the scene than out of "professional enthusiasm or duty".&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  “My office was burning. What should I photograph?” he recalled. A few moments later, a protester noticed the “PHOTO” label on his yellow Press jacket. Dhakal deflected it by saying he was an early career freelancer and YouTuber. So that protesters wouldn't find out, he went to one corner and took his jacket off. When it comes to covering street protests, &nbsp;Angad usually stands near the police because it feels safer. But on 8 September, fire and gunshots made even that area unsafe. A rubber bullet hit his friend Dipendra Dhungana that badly injured him.&nbsp; He thought, “Where do we go now? If we stay here, we’ll be hit.” After witnessing two days of protests, violence, and killings, and seeing his own office burning, he couldn't sleep for days. The same afternoon that government buildings burned and Kantipur was attacked, a message in a protest Discord forum talked openly of 'attacking Kantipur'.&nbsp; Rumours spread to other outlets. Outside OnlineKhabar's office, where <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/article/edit/7376157229248528384/?author=urn%3Ali%3Afsd_company%3A79132377#" target="_blank">Gaurav Pokharel</a> works, the newsroom manager saw “very suspicious people were walking around”. They lowered blinds, avoided windows, locked the front gate and dispersed staff to other places across the city. The outlet was threatened and effectively locked down, but not torched. Pokharel hid his press ID. “ I never showed the ID card. Sometimes I had to enter the crowd shouting slogans, just to blend in among the protesters,” he said. He watched people fall under gunfire, he helped pull one surrounded journalist out of a hostile crowd.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  As a freelancer, Gaurav also contributed articles for international outlets. Later, while transcribing an interview of a young protest organiser, he wrote to his editor at an international outlet : “This was very hard to write. I cried many times while doing it.” He had been working at a stretch for days battling bouts of exhaustion and low blood pressure.&nbsp; Protesters vandalised and set fire within the Singha Darbar complex housing Nepal Television and Radio Nepal. They tried to disrupt public broadcasting.&nbsp; Surendra Paudyal began the day with his press ID hanging on his neck, thinking it would let him move freely. But when he reached Singha Darbar around 3:30PM, the situation felt dangerous.&nbsp; He put the ID in his pocket. When asked what mattered most, he answered without pause: life comes first. In that moment, he felt real fear and a strong duty to protect his team.&nbsp; His focus narrowed to basic things: stay calm, find exits, get everyone out safely. Later, they were able to keep the 8 pm news on air through a regional link. He felt mixed emotions and a sense of relief that the broadcast continued, but also sadness and anger that their own studio had come under attack. Reprinted with permission from the Dart Centre Asia Pacific, a regional hub that provides trauma-informed support and advice to journalists.

"It is hard to feel neutral"

Among the songs GenZ protesters were chanting at the Mandala on 8 September was Amrit Gurung’s folk-rock rendition of the Panchayat-era patriotic song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iXnL31W93c">रातो र चन्द्र-सुर्जे जङ्गी निशान हाम्रो</a>. But amidst waving double pennants that day in Kathmandu were strands of Gopal Yonjan singing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7D8P-g3Uw4" target="_blank">बनेको छ पहराले</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57SlGf4m7R4" target="_blank">देशले रगत मागे</a>. The irony is that the message of Nepali nationalism the musician was trying to convey 50 years ago with his lyrics carries a new resolute relevance in today's context: I am a son of Nepal who will never kowtow to anyone.&nbsp; You can behead me, but I will never bend the knee. &nbsp; I can withstand fire, but will not stand injustice.&nbsp; If the nation demands blood, I will sacrifice myself. My mother will not weep, for she is the daughter of a Nepali. This was pure patriotic poetry that only someone like Gopal Yonjan could write. They are inter-generational and immortal — speaking as much for the GenZ today, as it was for the early days of nation-building when they were recorded in vinyl and broadcast over Radio Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan NT 1"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan was an adept flautist from a young age in Darjeeling.</figcaption> </figure>  Those two songs together have over 20 million views on the Music Nepal YouTube channel, and many of the comments have been posted after the 9 September massacre and the raging conflagration at the epicentre of the Nepali state&nbsp; They attest to the emotional depth of Nepali nationhood and love of motherland in every citizen of every generation no matter how dreadful the circumstances — and especially when the future looks fragile and uncertain.&nbsp; The release of Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music by his wife Renchin could not have come at a more momentous time in Nepal’s history to celebrate this iconic legend of modern Nepali music. Yonjan would have been 82 today, and as a poet, lyricist, singer innovated and improvised using Nepal’s folk traditions to infuse modern arrangements, meld melody with harmony, and lend them words that made the songs eternal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078" data-rendition-name="original" width="2712" height="3900" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan Narayan Gopal"> <figcaption>Narayan Gopal with Gopal Yonjan, the ‘Gopal Duet’ at Swayambhu circa 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  HOMECOMING Renchin Yonjan brings us an intimate family album of historic photographs of Gopal growing up in school in Darjeeling, his arrival in Kathmandu and the decision to make Nepal his home. She quotes Gopal: ‘I was deeply moved by the very glimpse of Nepal. I was enchanted by the greenery of Kathmandu, the gentle nature of the people, their pure thoughts, and their hospitality … how wonderful it would be to spend my live in such a beautiful and serene place.’ It was a kind of homecoming for Gopal Yonjan, the land his ancestors left to migrate to British India. In Kathmandu he found kindred spirits and musicians as passionate about their craft as himself: Narayan Gopal, Nagendra Thapa, Ratna Shumsher Thapa, Shiva Shanker, Pushpa Nepali  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1071" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan arriving at Kathmandu airport in 1963 and greeted by Nepali singers Pushpa Nepali, Dilmaya Khati, Shiv Shanker Shrestha, among others. </figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan and Narayan Gopal hit it off right away, complementing and inspiring each other with their shared love for meaningful music. They came to be known as the ‘Gopal Duet’, and Yonjan wrote in Nepali in his diary on 21 April 1963 about their first meeting: ‘I was immediately struck by his talent and presence. There was something in both his artistry and demeanour that drew me in. It didn’t take long for us to draw close.’ Towards the end of his life, Gopal Yonjan drifted away from themes of patriotism and unity to celebrate music in its purest form in his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu. It became art for art’s sake.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1304" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan at his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu in 1992.</figcaption> </figure>  The words of his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8ZHg3wkvzw" target="_blank">मेरो गीत मेरै प्रतिविम्ब होइन</a> immortalised by Narayan Gopal has lines that give goosebumps to anyone who listens to them: मेरो गित भन्ने अधिकार छैन, गित को पो म हूँ मेरो गित होइन (I have no right to call this my song. This song does not belong to me. I belong to this song.) &nbsp; In Nepal, Gopal Yonjan also found a more complicated story. There were grand historical narratives of nationalism, bravery and glory, but there was an undercurrent of fear and control. Renchin writes in the chapter, Tell Me Where My Country Lies: ‘[Gopal saw] national pride slowly erode in the face of social exclusion, political silence, and economic disenfranchisement.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1043" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Renchin and Gopal Yonjan in their garden in Kathmandu in the late 1980s.</figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan’s song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zru8yWSuRCI" target="_blank">भनिदे नेपाली दाइ मेरो देश कहाँ पर्यो</a> is ‘as much an elegy as a manifesto’ with searing lines like ‘Where is the river that ran red with Nepali blood? Where is the battlefield where our defenders wiped their khukri?’ Gopal Yonjan sings this song himself, reminding Nepalis of the sacrifices made to forge this nation, and for us not to squander them.&nbsp; In his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pVKpsK6Wy8" target="_blank">लाहुरे</a>, Yonjan celebrates Nepal’s illustrious history written in blood both to keep the nation free and then spilling it to defend other countries. Today, the same song takes on added meaning of Nepali lahure shedding not blood but sweat and tears as they toil abroad to send money to families back home. It evokes the pain of separation, and an anger at an uncaring state that drives them to leave. Gopal Yonjan died aged 53 in 1997 in a New Delhi hospital, leaving a legacy that still defines the Nepali nation in ageless musical compositions. The US-based <a href="https://www.gopalaya.org/" target="_blank">Gopayala</a> and the Gopal Yonjan Foundation have worked to remaster some of the tapes and recordings that are in safekeeping at Cornell University’s Carl A Koch Library.&nbsp; Renchin Yonjan has collected some of that valuable documentation in her book, Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music. Her concluding paragraph sounds prescient because of what Nepal has just been through: ‘Gopal’s patriotic compositions remain timeless not because they repeat old slogans, but because they ask new questions, and demand that we answer not with our voices, but with our lives.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="518" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> </figure>

Gopal Yonjan’s immortal songs

Harry Jackson was on an epic adventure ‘from Thailand to the UK on 2 wheels’ when he ran into the ultimate sidequest. Having just visited Zangla in Ladakh, Jackson had only landed in Kathmandu when he found himself in the middle of GenZ protests earlier this month. ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w">Arriving in Nepal - Chaos, Protest &amp; Curfews</a>’ is the title of his first video (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/@wehatethecold/videos">wehatethecold on YouTube</a>) about the protest. He shoots police as they shoot at protesters outside Parliament. Jackson is riding a Honda CT125, a retro lightweight motorbike with off-road capabilities. Strapped to the bike is his sparse luggage, flute, and a faded Union Jack. People are rioting on the streets and there is a heavy armed police presence as he makes his way to his hostel in Thamel. His vlog the day after on 9 September has 29 million views. In ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyxSqeFrlp0">The side of Nepal the media won’t show you</a>’, Jackson rides his bike straight at the crowd just past the Parliament building into Old Baneswar.&nbsp; He parks it and walks among the protestors, documenting it all: from the police firing capsules of tear gas into the crowd to the burning Parliament building as well as the jubilant, victorious crowd in the premises as they destroy police vehicles and dance. “I’m shocked at the scenes I’ve witnessed here today. I have truly witnessed history on a stupid trip from Thailand to England on a f***ing moped!” exclaims Jackson as he leaves the scene for the day, heading back to his hostel to edit the footage. The hostel is in direct contrast to the raucous scenes of the protest, as tourists and Nepalis sit and lounge at tables. ‘KUIRE VLOGGER’ Nepalis quickly called him the ‘kuire vlogger’, and attribute his skin colour to his popularity. Objectively, the videos are well made. Jackson goes full gonzo journalist, putting himself right in the heart of the action, talking directly to the people, all while narrating the events as they unfold. Despite being cut together in an entertaining way, the footage retains a raw, unpolished quality that outdoes what most professional journalists with a heavy duty camera crew could do. At a time when legacy media has been seen to be pushing biased narratives, Jackson wants to see for himself what happened, and make up his own mind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1604" loading="lazy" alt="WehateTheCold"> </figure>  This kind of video journalism takes a lot of skill and a certain personality. Many people, almost everybody, had their phones out at the protests, but only a handful were like Jackson. He interviewed people firsthand, edited the clips and uploaded them the same day. Jackson continued his vlogging over the next few days as the curfew was first put in place and then lifted. He explores the city as the Valley rebounds. By this time, Nepalis recognise him everywhere he goes. Jackson had achieved moderate fame as a 23-year old DJ in Birmingham, but what he has done in Nepal is something else. Almost everyone he talks to has already seen his vlog, and they are all eager to interact. He has been on multiple podcasts in Nepal too, and most videos online on the protests reference his vlogs. Before his Nepal blogs, Jackson had a modest 16k subcribers on YouTube, but after Nepal figure is now almost 700k, gaining over 100k each through 11-13 September. Most of them are Nepali viewers. “I’m just a regular dude who just did what he wanted to do,” says Jackson on a podcast. “I wanted to go on an adventure, learn about history, and learn languages. And I wanted to film it, document it, and have a wicked film for my life to show future generations.” &nbsp;

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