As someone born and raised in Patan, I knew that the city was rich in art, architecture and intangible heritage. But I never realised just how rich, and how little I knew about its hidden treasures until this book. Yala Mhasika/Exploring Lalitpur/Lalitpurko Chinari is published by the Lalitpur Chamber of Commerce &amp; Industry and introduces the city to the world, as well as to its own inhabitants. Lalitpur is popularly known as Patan, probably because of the pastures for livestock in its outskirts. Its original name in Nepal Bhasa is Yala, and is a blend of urban and rural, old and new.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patan Dhoka</figcaption> </figure>  Like other kingdoms in the valley of Swoniga, the dense urban cluster of houses, temples, monasteries were situated along the higher ground, while the farmlands were on the slopes leading to the rivers below. This unique townscape combined an urban lifestyle within a distinctly agriculture-based rural setting. The fertile soil, replenished by organic nutrients washed down from the streets above, as well as Kathmandu’s location on the ancient trade route between India and Tibet, provided the Valley’s kingdoms with prosperity – and thus the flourishing of art and culture over centuries. Most of Yala’s residents were farmers, traders, or artisans. Chinese visitors who came to Nepal in the 6th century saw that there were more traders than farmers, and more temples than houses. An entire street is inhabited by the descendants of Lhasa traders. Arniko is supposed to have been born in Yala.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Kwonti area which houses five-storey Kumbeshwar temple dedicated to Shiva and Baglamukhi temple dedicated to Dasa Mahavidya shakti peeth.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal exported goods and even minted coins for Tibet, and had a virtual monopoly of the major trans-Himalayan trade routes. This prosperity was reflected in monuments and shrines like the Kwa Baha Golden Temple. More so than the other three kingdoms of Swoniga, architecture flourished in Yala making it the centre for metal, stone and wood craft. The name Lalitpur means ‘city of fine art’ but with its sense of community, it might as well be a city of fine living. Legend also has it that the name Lalitpur comes from a farmer called Lalit who helped bring the rain god Karunamaya from Assam when the Valley was suffering a prolonged drought. Lalit’s shoulder beam stands to this day in Jhatapol. Disasters, invasion and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-in-a-time-of-cholera">epidemics</a> were a recurring theme in Patan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal.</figcaption> </figure>  The book was put together by the heritage expert team of Rosha Bajracharya, Sunil Pandey and Anil Chitrakar and provides a socio-economic and political history of Patan – how it was always food surplus, thanks to sustainable farming until recently. Ground and drone images by Photo Venture Nepal in the book give us a rare new perspective on Patan. There is an entire chapter on the chariot festival of Karunamaya (Machhindranath), a community-managed festival with Barahi carpenters assembling the woodwork, vine engineers Yamva weaving rope and rattan for the 25m tall chariot, and Ghaku drivers controlling the speed and brakes as the structure rolls through narrow streets in the annual festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Te Bahal in Patan which houses Karunamaya six months a year.</figcaption> </figure>  WALKING, WORSHIPPING The book can help in exploring Patan along five routes starting in Patan Dhoka, Pulchok, Shankhamul, Mahaboudha and Lagankhel with maps and details of the baha and bahil, shrines, ponds, open spaces, dhyochenn, courtyards and phalcha along the way. Because of its coffee-table size and heft, however, the guidebook is not practical to carry around. And despite detailed descriptions of the past and present of each site, readers are left wanting to know more about those places. It is proof of Patan’s vast treasures that even this book barely scratches the surface.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patukodom where visitors can view what remains of the ancient Kirant palace.</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the lesser-known must-visit sites include Patukodom which is all that remains of a palace of the original Kirat inhabitants of Patan. An archaeological dig here would surely unearth hitherto unknown facets of pre-Newa Patan. Then there are the slightly out of the way shrines like Mahabouha, a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya which houses 3,341 terracotta Buddhas with 90 big statues and which took 35 years and four generations to complete.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mahaboudha is a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya.</figcaption> </figure>  In a recent Patan by Night heritage walk, we learnt that Pim Bahal was the labour of love of a lakhe demon (now popularised as masked dancer) who had fallen for a local girl, and he dug the pond so she would not have to walk to a faraway spout to collect water. Nearby is the Charumati Chaitya, built by the daughter of Emperor Ashoka when she visited the Valley in the 3rd century BCE to spread Buddhism in Nepal. Interestingly, if Kathmandu is a city of temples, Patan is the centre of monasteries which represent a unique Tantric melding of Buddhist and Hindu forms. Examples are: the Tadham Cuka with relocated Licchavi-era chaityas symbolic of the four major events in Buddha’s life, Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal, and Bignantak Ganesa temple which is a manifestation of Shiva mingled with Vajrayana Buddhism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Bignantak Ganesa temple.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;Besides spatial descriptions, the book also explains the temporal by curating a detailed cultural calendar of Lalitpur with dates and places of jatra, rituals, devotional dances and festivals that weave the agricultural cycle with the zodiac.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mipwa Lakhe of Patan which create fire in mid aid during performance.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Gan pyakhan or Astamatrika dance which is performed in Patan Darbar Squre during Dasain. </figcaption> </figure>  The very last chapter is dedicated to water and nature, what sustains lives and civilisations, and how Lalitpur continues to be the city it is because of the water supply system our ancestors left behind which function still, despite encroachment and pollution. ‘In the history of the world cities have been built, they thrived for some time and then became archaeological sites because they were not able to maintain the quality of air, water, and its soil,’ the authors write. ‘This led these cities to depopulate and ultimately die and are only referred to in history books. Lalitpur is not going to make the same mistake.’ &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur"> </figure>

Sonia Awale

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YALA

Georgia O’Keefe, a foundational modernist painter most known for her floral and landscape paintings once said: “One can’t paint New York as it is, but rather as it is felt.” O'Keefe's residency in the city occurred during its extreme architectural expansion. Her lesser known body of work is entitled ‘My New Yorks’ and the series of paintings are a bird's eye perspective of New York City. The ongoing exhibition ‘Under the Same Roof’ at Siddhartha Art Gallery by Subodh Bhandari and Sambridhi Ratna Shakya resembles O’Keefe’s ‘love letters to New York’.&nbsp; Bhandari, a Patan newcomer and Shakya, a Patan native, work together to honour their architectural surroundings using mixed media. ‘A Walk Through the City’ is a conglomeration of miniature window replicas.&nbsp; The duo took snapshots of rapidly changing communities, and both styles are similar in their directness. The two artists reconstruct observations through stylistic fabrication, and capture the sensation of traversing a street, suddenly making ordinary objects artistic.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025072210078_3297b124286d188c641120c0742ced23ea15d75906d4454135f758dde501b0fe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025072210078_3297b124286d188c641120c0742ced23ea15d75906d4454135f758dde501b0fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="2150" height="1438" loading="lazy" alt="From the outside looking in"> </figure>  ‘Under the Same Roof’ centres around Patan’s doors, powerlines, and most notably windows. The two artists roam alleyways looking for features that pique their interest, committing them to memory with photography.&nbsp; Bhandari and Shakya do not allow the objects to go unnoticed, forever examining details which others frequently overlook. For the artists, rendering everyday entities creates unification through relatability. Their overall message focuses on coexistence and interconnectedness. Specifically how easily accessible, recurring items, visible to all, establish familiarity and speak volumes via silence.&nbsp; The artists inject bits of lived experiences into their reproductions, concealing personal artefacts such as bed sheets or posters within windows. They place humanity upon inanimate objects, allowing for exploration of a unified history.&nbsp; Each window represents a personal memory rather than something imagined, as they are constructed from photographs the artists themselves took. Walking into the gallery feels as if you are entering a collective memory. The approximately 500 wooden windows, with photo transfer and acrylic details, engulf the first floor.&nbsp; The incredible amount of small windows establish an immersive experience, prompting the viewer to question, whose homes are attached, what type of people have lived there and for how long? The diversity of each piece astounds the eye. With so much repetition, how can the individual elements be entirely unique?&nbsp; Windows are a common occurrence, present in any building. Viewing this commonality clustered together reveals the personal rather than architectural elements which make them individualistic.&nbsp; Their quaint Patan studio is on the second floor of a residential building with a blindingly mint green room, slightly dusty from the drills and grinders used for constructing and polishing sculptures.&nbsp; Bhandari says he has always yearned for an artistic lifestyle, whereas Shakya picked up a knack for it after a classroom quarrel regarding his artistic abilities at Kathmandu University where both had the same motivation to capture their surroundings.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250722100712_b1d54221ed9e3806a48a98943e9fd4c80c535957144ce6d94b20e788f4a9a4b7.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250722100712_b1d54221ed9e3806a48a98943e9fd4c80c535957144ce6d94b20e788f4a9a4b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="1430" loading="lazy" alt="From the outside looking in"> </figure>  The two differ in being native and new to the Patan area. So, is this exhibition about new vs native? Bhandari replied: “The idea of new vs native is no more about new vs native, it’s more about new and native, both the things coexisting together.” This is a metaphorical representation of their windows: what can you know about someone from outside appearances? Each window represents a specific period in time, whether it was constructed yesterday or 20 years ago, whether it houses a young family or one which has lived there for generations. The message is to understand how these elements help us coexist, by placing these varying periods of life centimetres apart from each other. It creates a space in which being surrounded by others is inevitable regardless of differences.&nbsp; Star Ross is an undergraduate at Princeton University studying Medical Anthropology alongside Visual Arts and Climate Science.

From the outside looking in

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

Divine chariot

A sculpture workshop run by Mahendra Maharjan in Patan has over 100 specialised craftsmen skilled in sculpting gods. Maharjan is a third-generation artist preserving and practicing the art of bronze sculpting that the city is famous for. Bronze remains the most favored metal for cast metal sculptures. Maharjan's bronze alloy boasts a high copper content, ranging from 85% to 95%, resulting in a distinctive deep russet tone clearly visible in the pictures.&nbsp; At his workshop, craftsmen adhere to the traditional lost wax technique, which involves coating a wax model with a mixture of clay, dung, and rice husks. The wax is then melted away, leaving a hollow cast into which molten bronze is poured, giving the sculpture its shape. Skilled craftsmen then enhance the piece further, with one of them using a TIG welder and a rod of the same bronze alloy to weld the seams. Subsequently, the metal undergoes a thorough cleaning process to remove excess material and fill any pits. The weld lines are carefully sanded down, and carabid-tipped grinders are used to add surface texture, seamlessly blending it with the rest of the sculpture. The process then proceeds to a detailed phase, involving texture carving and precise painting of the eyes and lips. The final touch comes with the addition of precious stones, which enhance the sculpture's appearance, giving it its distinctive and captivating look.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030752_629a8b0d3d7f45023626c02ebb10d8566fb1467353f004be6be6aa2c7e3d889a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20230726030752_629a8b0d3d7f45023626c02ebb10d8566fb1467353f004be6be6aa2c7e3d889a" data-rendition-name="original" width="5104" height="3403" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 1"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030752_429be9b1c0d0d8545d83c3466ae2b70691726ca81d29059ed2190131e25fa25c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20230726030752_429be9b1c0d0d8545d83c3466ae2b70691726ca81d29059ed2190131e25fa25c" data-rendition-name="original" width="4761" height="3174" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030752_8e8c8b55023c9da6c311c67c50576bdadc62b926e62db71411d17620a3719ca0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230726030752_8e8c8b55023c9da6c311c67c50576bdadc62b926e62db71411d17620a3719ca0" data-rendition-name="original" width="4953" height="3302" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 3"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_6b52225ea6fa94f6d6f4ad5501543a41ea03964bf693b77b59e6510aaef6c416.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20230726030756_6b52225ea6fa94f6d6f4ad5501543a41ea03964bf693b77b59e6510aaef6c416" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Photo sory NT 4"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_b502f2a6190162e760c0e7d8537f0009225c929e5b7e935f0e9967b14b8afc90.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230726030756_b502f2a6190162e760c0e7d8537f0009225c929e5b7e935f0e9967b14b8afc90" data-rendition-name="original" width="5714" height="3809" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 5"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_c1c95715d0856e76f897e82e793782d377cc47dc6c6eccee3a06e1b32b09d15d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20230726030756_c1c95715d0856e76f897e82e793782d377cc47dc6c6eccee3a06e1b32b09d15d" data-rendition-name="original" width="5912" height="3941" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 6"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_1179245875ced308e3edd23e4a0c88ccefa122b8389fed46d30b9e8cbf80f0f6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230726030756_1179245875ced308e3edd23e4a0c88ccefa122b8389fed46d30b9e8cbf80f0f6" data-rendition-name="original" width="5520" height="3680" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 7"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_161147c6d64110c2bb5c68d2352560bede28e5fbcc9d642245aebe495c5a2467.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20230726030756_161147c6d64110c2bb5c68d2352560bede28e5fbcc9d642245aebe495c5a2467" data-rendition-name="original" width="3158" height="2105" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 8"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_b755ca79b3e500fb29d73a0d608a17aee5aa83973693ca34bfa75029d826e631.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20230726030756_b755ca79b3e500fb29d73a0d608a17aee5aa83973693ca34bfa75029d826e631" data-rendition-name="original" width="5520" height="3680" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 9"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_5345609d3dec962aad9462bb677e4d67ae2d3501707f889f2abcf2b14cf8ed40.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20230726030756_5345609d3dec962aad9462bb677e4d67ae2d3501707f889f2abcf2b14cf8ed40" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3456" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 10"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230726030756_966b3b52e009394658770962a417d515b16d49da185edb9af41e088d1c4a32f4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20230726030756_966b3b52e009394658770962a417d515b16d49da185edb9af41e088d1c4a32f4" data-rendition-name="original" width="5435" height="3623" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 11"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_4d645f16adad6c99191b12f515410992d7c827b87358680f9133e13452be5398.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2023072604070_4d645f16adad6c99191b12f515410992d7c827b87358680f9133e13452be5398" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3456" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 12"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_0d2db28c4b715fbc2761c24107b257dca4c52af851c781cf3fe08dc8cd6edd17.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2023072604070_0d2db28c4b715fbc2761c24107b257dca4c52af851c781cf3fe08dc8cd6edd17" data-rendition-name="original" width="5232" height="3488" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 13"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_da1e18c79f1e495a754b77590305e9254aeec9b377a58cd648908a96c1abf050.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2023072604070_da1e18c79f1e495a754b77590305e9254aeec9b377a58cd648908a96c1abf050" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3456" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 14"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_50198a48a50e1c694b7977051f0711fe11f33094d44669fc76026f5986565767.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2023072604070_50198a48a50e1c694b7977051f0711fe11f33094d44669fc76026f5986565767" data-rendition-name="original" width="5661" height="3774" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 15"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_3e6c5736f3a99111c74b30ba41062fbed3dedd1916f5083dd37a7eb56e7c3623.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2023072604070_3e6c5736f3a99111c74b30ba41062fbed3dedd1916f5083dd37a7eb56e7c3623" data-rendition-name="original" width="5104" height="3403" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 16"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604070_93ea3324e3a43df1dc0b7075c6bbb6708b3b5c068074ad093879954709680b6c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2023072604070_93ea3324e3a43df1dc0b7075c6bbb6708b3b5c068074ad093879954709680b6c" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3456" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 17"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023072604074_a97827002cd36d02fe0df30cd5eacfb72a9052cf05a16068f528b1d07b4da46c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="2023072604074_a97827002cd36d02fe0df30cd5eacfb72a9052cf05a16068f528b1d07b4da46c" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Photo story NT 18"> </figure>

Making of a god

<figure><img width="2456" height="1632" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237749c7e80680e0c732ejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: DEEPAK TOLANGE</figcaption></figure>When Kathmandu-based filmmaker Deepak Tolange visited the Museum of Asian Art in Berlin seven years ago, he sought out the collection from Nepal (pictured above). It was a large section around the corner from the Tibetan artefacts on the same floor.Among the items was an ornate 70.5cm tall two- storeyed <a href="https://id.smb.museum/object/1714079/buddhistischer-schrein">Buddhist shrine</a> richly decorated, inlaid with precious stones, gold and silver. Three standing bodhisatva were placed in niches on the lower level, and there were three other deities inside the upper chamber.The object represented elements of Newa architecture: the torans, the iconographies, the jala nhyaka, but the roof had Tibetan touches. And, upon inspection, Tolange noticed traces of vermilion and saffron powder on the idols, indicative of continued worship.The Nepali in him was intrigued, Tolange wondered if the antique shrine was stolen from a temple in Kathmandu Valley like many others.The first historical account of a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/who-looted-nepals-gods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">religious object stolen from Nepal</a> is from 1765, when the statue of Narayan disappeared from the Bhagwati temple in Hanuman Dhoka. Plunder peaked in the 1960s, as Nepal started to open up to the outside world. Today, after campaigning by citizen groups and the government, foreign museums and collections are <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-enigma-of-arrival-of-nepals-gods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">repatriating stolen deities</a>. According to the Department of Archaeology (DoA), in the past decades, 93 religious objects have been returned, of which as many as 19 were repatriated since July.Back in Berlin, Tolange reached out to Bernadette Broeskamp, a researcher of East Asian and Buddhist art at Freie Universität Berlin. Based on his findings, Tolange made a 6-minute short film Buddhist Shrine.“I thought that maybe, if it was indeed stolen, it would be possible to return the shrine to Nepal,” Tolange recalls.The museum dates the ritual object to the 19th century. Provenance record shows that it was sold to the museum in 1936 by one Heinrich Meinhard, but beyond that nothing is known. Tolange speculates that because war was brewing in Europe at the time, Meinhard might have been in need of money which prompted him to sell the object to the museum.There are no other documents, which were either never kept or were subsequently lost during the war. The only thing certain is that Meinhard told the museum that the object was indeed from Nepal.The short film was shown at the museum in 2015, where it was received well. “The Q&amp;A after the screening was very heated,” recalls Tolange. “Everyone wanted to know if the object was really stolen and, if yes, then would it be returned.” The question remained unanswered. <figure><img width="997" height="1200" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237789c7e80680e0c732fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tolange returned to Nepal for three months in 2016 for a field visit as part of his MA. He had been thinking about the altar, wondering if there was a bigger story behind it.He went to Patan to meet Bhim Ratna Shakya, senior sculpture artist, who recalled that his father had made six altars like the one in Berlin. That was a significant clue, and Tolange spoke with historians Satya Mohan Joshi, Sukra Sagar Shrestha, Mukunda Raj Aryal, KVPT’s Rohit Ranjitkar, and went to Boudha to meet the Buddhist monk S Dharmacharya.The conversations shed more light on stolen artefacts, even though he did not get a substantial lead on the shrine in the Berlin museum. “I found out that these shrines, or altars, were often for private use,” Tolange says. “And that people in Mangal Bazar continue to make them.”But the artisans still do not sign their names on the pieces, and that makes it difficult to track them down. “On top of this, when the dealers sell the altars, they sell it at the value of an art object -- while the artisans are paid only the rate of the labourer,” he adds. “Artists does not always get the recognition they deserve, and this practice is ongoing.”Upon graduation, Tolange proposed to the museum that he would add the Nepali side of the story and make another film with the new findings, this time a little longer and more detailed. Titled Buddhist Altar, the 16-minute film was completed in 2022 after much research.After Covid restrictions were lifted, Tolange visited Khenpo Gyaltsen from Rangjung Yeshe Institute and Loponma Ani Phuntsok Wongmo from Hasantar Nunnery. He also went to Buddhist temples and observed traditional rituals at the Golden Temple in Patan, Swayambhu, Boudha and other monasteries in Kathmandu.“I discovered that in many Buddhist shrines, the idol of the Buddha is at the centre, representing his body, with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/neighbourhoods-save-their-shrines/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">chaitya</a> to his right representing his mind and a book to his left representing dharma or his speech, teachings,” Tolange says.Other deities in the shrine depend on the people and the families. In fact, as Bhim Ratna Shakya remarked in the film, any god can go in the chambers.Historians are convinced that the person who crafted the Buddhist shrine in the Berlin museum was a Newa, possibly from Patan, although there is still some doubt regarding where it was actually made, since there are Tibetan influences on it as well. Historically, these shrines were commissioned by families for their use, and the one in Berlin was commissioned too, most likely by Meinhard himself.In the film, which is first and foremost about a quest, Tolange has tried to trace the craft behind the shrine, digging into its past and current practices. Intercut with images of the mountains, the hills and the temples, he also focuses on the religious syncretism in Kathmandu Valley to contextualize the artefact as still being a part of a living culture.The film has been selected to the permanent collection at the Humboldt Forum, where it will be screened next to the shrine itself to mark the inauguration of the Asian section of the Berlin-based centre on 16 September.Tolange also plans to show the film to Nepali audience.Says Tolange: “Working on the film helped me rediscover my country and its cultures. If I hadn't done it, I'd have known nothing about the object and its importance.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-nepali-antiquities-got-to-chicago-museum/">How Nepali antiquities got to Chicago museum</a>, Alisha Sijapati

Ashish Dhakal

How did a Nepali ritual altar end up in Berlin?

<figure><img width="1200" height="800" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204749c7e80680e0b2862jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Picture of Astaman Maharjan in Ananda Niketan</figcaption></figure>Ten years ago, Patan’s Astaman Maharjan donated a plot of land in a prime location and Rs5 million to build an old age home. Even though the devout Astaman did not live long enough to see his project completed, the facility now cares for the elderly who have been foresaken by the state and have no family. As a devotee of Shiva, Astaman used to visit Pashupatinath every Monday. There, he would see the condition of older people in the premises of the temple and would be disheartened by their <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19664#.YeQRvi2B3-Y">miserable living conditions</a>. Astaman made it his life’s goal to build a proper home for the elderly, where they would have friends, proper meals and comfortable rooms. But he did not know where to start. <img width="1920" height="1046" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204779c7e80680e0b2863jpeg.jpg" alt="">It was at a community picnic in 2012, that Astaman Maharjan suddenly and without consulting anyone, announced that he would donate land and money to the Jyapu Samaj Yala to build a home for the elderly. In February 2013, the foundation stone was laid and construction began for the ‘Jyapu Samaj Senior Citizen Ananda Niketan’.  Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19664#.YeQg9VIzbjA">Giving up on grannies</a>, Dambar Krishna Shrestha“It was his one big wish, and he would visit the construction site very day to supervise,” says Maharjan’s son Kiran. “Wherever he is, he will be happy that his project is finished.”Such was Astaman’s dedication that he was closely involved with every aspect of the structure and facilities, trying to make sure that the elderly who would one day live there would be comfortable.  <img width="1913" height="1065" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372047a9c7e80680e0b2864jpeg.jpg" alt="">The construction faced many delays, with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/lessons-still-not-learnt/">the earthquake</a>, Blockade in 2015 and then the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/3rd-wave-in-2-years/">Covid-19 pandemic</a>, during which Astaman himself succumbed to double kidney failure at the age of 77. However, with the money he left behind, the Jyapu Samaj of Patan completed the project.The Ananda Niketan building will start operating from next month and provide shelter for at least 110 senior citizens. “It is sad that Astaman couldn’t see the completion of the building, but he has set an example and we hope his generosity will motivate others to bring real change in the society,” says Bal Krishna Maharjan of the Jyapu Samaj. <img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372047d9c7e80680e0b2865jpeg.jpg" alt="">Despite the donation from the Maharjan family including the land in Bagdol which would be worth Rs80 million today, the project needed more financial support for completion. Several organisations and individuals stepped up after learning about Astaman’s generosity. The Indian Embassy donated Rs100 million, Bagmati provincial government provided another Rs30 million and Lalitpur Metropolitan Office chipped in Rs10 million. Members of Jyapu Samaj Yala, which has membership in 40 neighbourhoods in Lalitpur also made significant contributions.  <img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204819c7e80680e0b2866jpeg.jpg" alt="">The building itself is seismic resistant and can accommodate at least 110 elderly people. It has a hall for morning hymns, yoga and meditation, there is a library, guest rooms and a specialised canteen. The five-storey building made with traditional dachi appa bricks is surrounded by the garden, has elevators and is disabled friendly. Senior citizens can live here free of cost and there are different arrangements also for those willing to pay. It also has a clinic with an around-the-clock medical team as well as its own ambulance.Ananda Niketan also has a daycare facility such that throughout the day when their children are working, the elderly can enjoy the amenities at the facility and participate in interactive activities. The home also provides transportation services.“He is an inspiration for all of us,” says Kiran of his late father. “We don’t get to take anything with us when we die, so we should leave our possessions for the betterment of society.”  <img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204849c7e80680e0b2867jpeg.jpg" alt="">The average lifespan of Nepalis has increased from just 40 in 1970 to 72 today, and this demographic shift is leading to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">greater population of elderly</a>. About 12 working-age Nepalis support one senior citizen, and this ratio is set to drop to 5.6 by 2050. As early as 2028, Nepal will be an ‘aging society’ where 7% of its population will be above 65.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">A much older tomorrow</a>, Sonia AwaleThe Nepali state and society therefore needs to be better prepared to support and engage senior citizens. This means younger people and children today should be more productive, and the government must be prepared to outlay more for <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/guest-editorial/guest-editorial-old-is-gold,876">geriatric care</a>.This has led to a proliferation in the number of old age homes across Nepal. This has become more widespread also because of younger people living abroad either for work or study, leaving parents without the support in their old age. <img width="1919" height="1065" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410114/637204879c7e80680e0b2868jpeg.jpg" alt="">This is where initiatives like Ananda Niketan make a big difference, and the management of the home is getting queries from older Nepalis living abroad who want to be provided with better care in their advanced age instead of living alone. Says Bal Krishna Maharjan of Jyapu Samaj: “The elderly can live here in peace with minimal discomfort in the latter part of their lives. This is the legacy Astaman Maharjan left behind and what he will be remembered for.” Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19055#.YeQg9lIzbjA">Orphaned at old age</a>, Paavan Mathema

Home sweet home for older Nepalis

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204589c7e80680e0b2859jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="534"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372045a9c7e80680e0b285ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="547"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5065#.YeJVJKBBzOQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">8.3M earthquake that struck at 2:28PM on 15 January 1934</a> was the last major quake to hit Kathmandu before the 2015 Gorkha earthquake. Nearly 17,000 people were killed in Nepal and India.The disaster is commemorated in Nepal every 15 January as National Earthquake Safety Day.The Rana rulers at the time went about quickly rebuilding the heritage sites, with many thinking even today that the reconstructions closely resembled how the monuments looked before 1934. However, evidence indicates otherwise.“It may not be evident to the naked eye, but upon closer inspection one can see there are many anomalies in the way the reconstruction was handled after the 1934 earthquake,” says Rohit Ranjitkar of <a href="https://kvptnepal.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">KVPT</a>, who is documenting the changes and is working on a book about the same.Following the earthquake, rebuilding Kathmandu Valley was of utmost priority as it was the capital and had faced severe damages. Engineer Dilli Jung Thapa, who was 93 years old when Ranjitkar met him in 1990s, was tasked with the project.“According to him, the rulers had given a timeframe and the job was expected to be completed within that period," says Ranjitkar. "So, replicating them to look as they did in the Malla era was not possible. Temples around the palace complexes were given more priority, and materials from the peripheral monuments were used to rebuild them."Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-historic-kathmandu-beneath-our-feet/">The historic Kathmandu beneath our feet</a>, Sahina ShresthaWhen KVPT was renovating seven temples in the Kathmandu Darbar Square around 2007, they found that the struts used in the Narayan temple east of Kaal Bhairav were taken from other temples around it.In Patan, the Taleju Temple and the wings of Sundari Chok also have struts from other monuments. It is difficult to track their origins now because of lack of documentation.Using materials from one temple to reconstruct another also means that many temples lost their true forms or their history was completely erased.In Bhaktapur, while the city rebuilt the Bhairav temple in its original size, four temples in the Darbar Square were rebuilt as a one-storeyed structure, and four other buildings were never rebuilt.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372045d9c7e80680e0b285bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1217"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204619c7e80680e0b285cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3156" height="2220"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A black and white photo of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/Patan-town-as-a-museum-piece" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Patan Darbar Square</a> taken by Kurt Boeck in 1890 shows three shikhara-style stone temples. Only one, Chaysin Dega is still around in the original style. Materials from the other two, a Shiva temple and a Narayan temple, were used in rebuilding it.Further, individual materials from temples were not only used to rebuild structures in the same area. Some travelled in-between the cities too.For example, in the 1980s when the Germans were helping with the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/clash-of-cultures-in-bhaktapur/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">reconstruction of Bhaktapur</a>, they found that the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-beginning-of-history,3225" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Chyasalin Mandap</a>, which had collapsed nine hours after the 1934 earthquake, was missing its original pieces.The priests knew that parts of the building had been recovered and were used elsewhere. They finally located the former chauffeur of the-then governor who reported that 32 roof struts with depictions of Krishna had been transported to Kathmandu to be used in the New Road Gate.According to an article by <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/niels-gutschow-leaves-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Niels Gutschow</a> and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-guardian-of-the-shadows-%20Götz%20Hagmüller,3352">Götz Hagmüller</a>, they also found that the pillars, consoles, capitals and pedestals from the pavilion had been used as timber to construct a one-storeyed arcade in Sallaghari.The capitals had been shortened and lintels shred to pieces. Some of the pieces that had been preserved were reused in the reconstruction of the Chyasalin Mandap, but the struts from Kathmandu could not be returned.The team deliberately refrained from copying the design of the struts, and the roof was reconstructed with plain timber. They hoped that in the long-run, the components may be recovered.In Patan the once Shikhara-styled Shiva temple and Narayan Temple today are housed in stucco-dome style structures. As was the Bhaidega Temple after the original three-story structure fell down, but <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/restoring-a-piece-of-nepals-history/">it is currently being rebuilt in its original style and design</a>.The north wing of Mulchok, the largest and oldest of the three main choks in Patan Darbar was also damaged by the earthquake. During the renovation, the intricately carved window was replaced by another much simpler wooden window which can be seen today.Old photos also show that the dabali north of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Raze-retrofit%20-or-rebuild,3963" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the Gaddhi Baithak</a> actually had houses which did not go down completely but were later cleared to make the open space as we see it today.There is also photographic evidence of the original three-storeyed Patan District Court House. Nonetheless, after the top floor was damaged in 1934, it was renovated as a two-storeyed structure.Currently, there are plans to reconstruct the wing with support from the Indian Embassy but it has not moved ahead yet. In the case of Bhaktapur, Gutschow's and Hagmüller's team were assisted by oral history. But today, there are very few people around who can remember the details from before 1934. And without proper documentation, it is difficult to know what the monuments looked like originally.Says Ranjitkar: “While it is a given that the architecture of a place can change over time, there needs to be proper documentation of everything so that when the time comes to reconstruct and renovate, we <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">don’t repeat the same mistakes</a>.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/lessons-still-not-learnt/">Lessons still not learnt</a>

Sahina Shrestha

Kathmandu’s temple restoration after 1934 quake

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13489c7e80680e0a9915jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240"/><figcaption>All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>A vast circle is crammed with densely packed houses stacked on top of one another. Drawn in black ink, their edges merge as they jostle in space.The narrow strips between the houses have fluid shadows, but in the middle of this urban universe is a white hole. “That is a doughnut,” says a visitor, at the Siddhartha Art Gallery where artist Sujan Dangol’s meticulous line drawings are on display at the <a href="https://www.siddharthaartgallery.com/exhibition-events/342-tale-of-a-city-invitation">Tales of a City exhibition</a> till the end of the month.“I cannot impose my concepts or ideas on viewers, their interpretation is just as genuine and appropriate because they view it subjectively as their own background, thoughts and feelings come into play,” Dangol explains in his studio in Koteshwor. Light bounces off his round glasses as the 40-year-old artist's gaze turns to the large window on his left.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d134b9c7e80680e0a9916jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3024" height="4032"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The studio is an open space with sofas, bookstands and tables about. In one corner is a large painting — “A friend is working on that one,” Dangol says — and metal and clay sculptures sit on various shelves. He is dressed in a long, brown corduroy shirt, and his hand hangs above a work in progress: another large canvas, nearly filled to the brim with tiny houses and streets.It is clear that the drawings depict the tremendous transformation that has turned Kathmandu Valley’s rich urban-agro civilisation into <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19765#.YZDL21VByJA">a concrete jungle</a>. Dangol’s sketches represent dizzying, densely packed towns with teetering temples and dilapidated homes, almost like a cartoon, or satire.For Dangol, art is a three-point collaboration between an artist, the object and the viewers who exist in the space between the abstract and the real. The experience is incomplete even when only one of the three is missing. The drawings feel at once familiar and foreign — the sprawling urbanscape is part of our daily lives, but they have also acquired an almost metaphysical aspect.A giant vajra, for example, looks as though wrapped in a shawl of windows and roofs — and Dangol invites the viewers to fill in the gaps, recognise and rediscover their own stories.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d134e9c7e80680e0a9917jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240">Sujan Dangol grew up in Mahabouddha near the Kathmandu Darbar Square when the historical towns of this emerald valley were still located along ridges with the slopes down to the rivers below devoted to agriculture.“I still remember the sights, sounds and smells of eating rice on the balcony during the minpachas holiday in winter,” adds Dangol, lamenting that today none of the things he used to enjoy as a child are accessible or possible.The concrete canopy of houses block out the sun, there are no public open spaces for children to run around in, there is the ever-present din of the city’s perpetual motion machine.These feelings of loss and nostalgia permeate all of Dangol’s exhibits. The artworks are rigorous and complex: each cityscape is meticulously drawn in pen and ink, filled with stark emotional and intellectual intensity. He recreates history and architecture in a visual language that is uniquely his, built on the bedrock of his own memories and infused with elements of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/">folklore</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13529c7e80680e0a9918jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1475" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Big Bell is a rendition of the one that stands in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/good-as-old-after-two-earthquakes/">Patan Darbar Square</a>, but its base is crammed with little houses and temples. Dark hills stretch behind, and at the feet of the monument are slabs that look like funeral ghat with black blobs spread about them.It is an ominous piece, foreboding. The sun casts a shadow behind itself and, on closer look, the roofs are bare and have holes in them with wooden beams poking out. The bell itself looks weary, the roof above it is worn out, and it is almost like a deep sigh escapes this 38x48 inch-frame with an overwhelming sense of loss.The other drawings evoke similar pathos. Carved Malla-era windows stand next to neoclassical doors, and somewhere in the middle are tall, flat and bare walls. But between them the galli is quiet and temple eaves have come undone. The ever-watchful eyes on the stupas look aged and tired, perhaps by the desolation they have witnessed.With the touch of pen and ink, Dangol reinvents a visual vernacular of memory and loss. But Dangol does not want the messaging to be too direct or blatant. He says: “I am not a heavily conceptual artist … if I start a piece with too much intention, it disrupts my workflow.”https://youtu.be/eF4hwcbBhsAProud of his Newa heritage, Dangol aspires to develop a new grammar for Nepali contemporary art that builds on the culture and skills that he grew up around and the relics of which are still present. There is no western influence here: the styles are borrowed from gardeners, woodcarvers, tailors, masons and brick-layers, and also the struts, carved windows and exteriors of abandoned buildings.“The cross-hatching in my drawings are inspired by my wife’s straw mats,” says Dangol. Miniature installations featuring straw mats and seeds by his wife, Sharmila Shrestha are also on exhibit in Tales of a City.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13559c7e80680e0a9919jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240">Sujan Dangol traces the origin of this series to 2012, when as his graduation installation he built a city of 1,500 cardboard boxes and cartons of various brand names in the Nepal Art Council. The installation was complete with streets and roads that people could walk through and interact with. Architecture and heritage have since heavily influenced his art and outlook.“It takes over 500 or 1,000 years to build and develop an urban civilisation, and nurture its language, heritage, culture and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/exploring-nepals-culinary-diversity/">cuisine</a>,” says Dangol. “But when I look at Kathmandu today, I am saddened by the changes in the last 20-30 years, and especially following the 2015 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/">earthquake</a>. This is not normal. Development and progress should be gradual, not disorganised.”Houses, says Dangol, are not just places of residence. The traditional brick, timber and tiles of the buildings with their carved wooden columns, windows and doors represent an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303">invaluable legacy and expression</a> of craft, history, experience and expectations that span generations.“Individual houses are just as important as temples,” he says. And a street of houses has a collective ambience, so <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/deconstructing-reconstruction/">heritage conservation</a> must look beyond just monuments to these ordinary neighbourhoods and their old dwellings that are being torn down to be replaced with concrete.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13599c7e80680e0a991ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The bahal, falcha and hiti are being overrun with selfishness and greed, the accelerated consumerism and obsession with money do not value the history and heritage of Swoinga, Kathmandu Valley.Being passionate about literature, art and architecture, Dangol says depicting these changes in his drawings is an outlet for his aggravation with the accelerated and irreversible change happening all around.One particularly gloomy drawing is Kalki that depicts the deity, one of the ten avatar of Vishnu, with fiery hair and wings, riding a leaping horse above a city as contrails swirl behind him. Kalki looks straight at the viewer with a deeply unsettling expression on his face — the rage in his eyes is shared by his horse which has a chain of skulls looping around his neck.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d135e9c7e80680e0a991bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="849" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kalki is associated with destruction, and is the prophesied incarnation of Vishnu at the end of the current Kali Yug cycle of existence in Hindu cosmology. The destruction is followed by Satya Yug, when the chaos and darkness end.This is an important metaphor in Dangol’s drawing: destruction looming over a city, heritage on the verge of extinction. But, at the same time, Kalki is also the harbinger of cleansing and renewal.The exhibition ‘Tale of a City’ is open until 29 November at Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Revisted, Kathmandu.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18013#.YZDNdlVByJA">Whose heritage is it anyway?</a>, Marit Bakke<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-time-to-every-purpose-occupation,3023">A time to every purpose</a>, Sahina Shrestha<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/restoring-a-piece-of-nepals-history/">Restoring a piece of Nepal's history</a>, Sahina Shrestha

Between the lines with Sujan Dangol

<figure><img width="1080" height="1079" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19999c7e80680e0ac82ajpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Kuthu Math. All photos: ROBERT POWELL/TARAGAON MUSEUM</figcaption></figure>Robert Powell’s drawing of the courtyard façade of Kuthu Math in Bhaktapur is a prime example of his singular style: light enters from the left and the contrast between surface and shadow accentuate the depth of the carvings, guiding the viewer’s eyes.The windows are the many eyes on the wall, some open and some closed, some watchful and some resting. The blackness behind the openings contours the face and enhances the intricate latticework. There is a stillnessto the painting, but wait: is that a flying pigeon frozen in time under the second-floor window? The retrospective exhibition at <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nepali-times-buzz/taragaon-museum-boudha,1609">Taragaon Museum</a> is a tribute to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/robert-g-powell-1948-2020/">Robert Powell</a> who died in Thailand on 16 December 2020. It is also a celebration of talent that sheds light on the artist’s unique visual range, subtle playfulness and an austere dedication to detail.There are 30 of Powell’s works on exhibit, including the museum’s recent acquisition: the artist’s rendition of the 17th century Licchavichaitya at Vambaha in Patan. Individual pieces of the original chaitya date to the 7th century and was only later assembled. This is an intricate drawing of an exquisite sculpture, and Powell’s brush strokes add to the superior craftsmanship of its unnamed master. Directly beneath the dome sits a Buddha flanked by two ferocious lions looking in opposite directions. The fiery tails of the lions rise to frame the niche where the Buddha meditates and are swallowed by Kirtimukha above, who then regurgitates water, signifying rain.Where is the line between the opposites – fire and water? Where does one begin and the other end? Meanwhile wide lotus leaves jut out of the tails on each side. The details are immaculate, each curl of the tails and manes rendered to perfection.The drawing captures the essence of the sculpture in minute scale, carefully measured and rendered on paper. The chaitya itself is of special interest because unlike other Lichhavi era sculptures in Kathmandu, where the niches are empty, this has the Buddha meditating in it. <img width="288" height="560" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d199d9c7e80680e0ac82bjpeg.jpg" alt="">Powell does not just portray what is literal. These are hyper-realistic impressions taken to another realm by his artistic genius. There is an added dimension inaccessible to the human eye, or even to the camera. Reality mingles with the artist’s own impression.Take, for example, his drawing of Taka, a Magar village in Rolpa, which depicts a 3-storeyed structure seen from above. The surface appears as if in motion with the viewer almost hovering overhead, as the hat-like granaries on the flat roof leap out of the frame. The rows of houses represent the Magar marriage system in architectural form: matrilineal unions between cousins across 3 lineages.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-in-shadows-and-light/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mustang in shadows and light</a>, Kunda Dixit<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/niels-gutschow-leaves-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Niels Gutschow Leaves Home</a>, Ashish DhakalThe painting of a temple with an overgrown pipal shows the carved arch interlocked between the Kirtimukha and the trunk, both vying to devour it. Much of the front façade has crumbled and the bricks lie about as the tree lifts the shrine. Inside is a solitary shivalinga, displaced or at home among nature, one cannot say.The interaction between natural and human structures is what ties together Robert’s work, even though the paintings themselves are not peopled. The houses, windows, lonely temples, and even thowo (row of piled up stones) – all are either placed amidst nature or built of natural materials. Earthy pigments of ochre, yellow, white, colour the canvas in thin effervescent layers. <figure><img width="1114" height="630" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d199e9c7e80680e0ac82cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The lack of people could make the structures appear forlorn. A house in one of the drawings has visible cracks on its brick wall, looks worn out and abandoned, ready to give up. There is a sense of melancholy, but an aesthetic one. The landscape revels in its objective existence, seen as themselves. Robert is careful not to overlay his own influence onto the canvas, his point of view is reflected solely by what he selects to draw.This is architectural documentation at its best. Historians and conservationists draw lines with sharp pencil or ink, without using a T-square, aiming to depict an objective reproduction of the artefact without manipulating it, or completing the missing details. Powell famously counted the bricks in the courtyard of Kuthu Math in Bhaktapur and meticulously painted each of their colour, texture and size.Such exactitude adds a layer of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5455#.YXjm6lVBypo">poetry to Powell’s art</a> which aims not to influence but to uncover what was previously unseen or unnoticed, giving a more holistic image of the structure with surgical precision and mythic elevation.The Taragaon exhibition showcases Robert Powell’s powerful narrative quality that augments an archival contribution to architecture and ethnography, full of aesthetic and historical significance. The eyes on the windows watch us as we pass, and their doors open to remind us of the cities of the old from where we have come. These drawings are vessels for memory, since only the material world is transient. Robert Powell Exhibition<a href="https://taragaonmuseum.com/">The Taragaon Museum</a>, BoudhaTill 12 November 2021+977-01-6201035<a href="mailto:museumdirect@taragaon.com">museumdirect@taragaon.com</a>Pictured right, Rob Powell in his Koh Samui studio.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161132/636d19a19c7e80680e0ac82djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1334" height="1000">

Remembering Robert Powell

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01f59c7e80680e0a3655jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4032" height="3024"/><figcaption>Nepal Embassy in Washington receives the 10th century Uma Maheswar statue from Denver Museum on Monday. The figure was stolen from Patan neighbourhood fifty years ago. Photos: NEPAL EMBASSY WASHINGTON</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01f89c7e80680e0a3656jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01fb9c7e80680e0a3657jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853">Earlier this year, a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-our-gods-home/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">10th century stone figure of Uma Maheswar</a>, which had been stolen from Patan’s Gahiti 50 years ago was traced to the Denver Art Museum. This week, the museum handed over the antiquity to the Nepal Embassy in Washington DC.In an exclusive, the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-gods-return-from-exile/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepali Times reported in January</a> that the statue that was an object of daily worship by the local community had been torn out of a shrine in Patan in the 1960s, and had found its way through a private collector to the museum in Denver as ‘art’.Nine months later, in the latest in a slew of stolen artefacts being returned to Nepal from the United States, the Denver Art Museum handed over the statue to Nepal’s Ambassador Yuvaraj Khatiwada in Washington DC on Sunday.The statue had been in the collection of the museum since the 1980s, given by Jane F Ullman and Edwin F Ullman.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141148/636d01fd9c7e80680e0a3658jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="768" height="549">In an interview with Nepali Times earlier this year, Babulal Maharjan, 82, remembered the deity that had been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/replicating-nepals-stolen-gods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">stolen</a> from the shrine in his neighbourhood. For the past half a century later, Gahiti residents have continued to preserve the base of the structure below a graffiti-scrawled wall, hoping for its eventual return.When Nepali Times showed Babulal and his 78-years-old neighbour Babukaji Maharjan a photograph of the Uma-Mahesvar that is now in the Denver Art Museum, both immediately recognised the figure.https://youtu.be/XFzMHtqwZ3gThe thieves had failed to steal Uma-Maheswar in the first attempt, and the community managed to restore it to its base. But one morning when devotees came to the shrine to pray they found that their god had vanished.Since <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Nepal-needs-to-be-prepared-for-the-return-of-stolen-religious-figures,986" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Uma-Maheswar</a> was stolen more than half a century ago, youth in the community grew up hearing about the theft and knew that the preserved base held an importance, but they learned of its true significance only after the media reports this year that it had been tracked down to the museum in Colorado.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02009c7e80680e0a3659jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1728"><figcaption>The base of the Uma Maheswar statue in Patan's Gahiti that residents have preserved hoping for its eventual return.</figcaption></figure>Babukaji Maharjan had lost all hopes that he would ever see the homecoming of the lost deity Uma-Maheswar again. Even with the recent development, he has a hard time grasping its return.“Due to our economic condition we did not know how to file a complaint with the police, and nobody during the Panchayat era would have taken the theft seriously anyway,” he told Nepali Times. “But I am glad that the statue will now be returned to our shrine. We will celebrate its homecoming.”The Uma-Maheswar is just the latest in a series of objects of worship that have been <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-wants-stolen-antiquities-returned-from-france/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">stolen from Kathmandu Valley</a> and are in private collections or museums in Europe and the United States.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110141152/636d02039c7e80680e0a365ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="852" height="543"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>In the past nine months, six stolen gods have been successfully handed over to the Nepal authorities. A <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-homecoming-of-nepals-gods/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">12th-century Laxmi-Narayan statue</a> from Dallas Museum of Arts, a 13th century carved temple eave depicting an Apsara, a 14th-century gold seated Buddha in Bhumisparsa Mudra, and a 15th century seated Ganesh repatriated by the Manhattan’s District Attorney’s Office are already in Patan Museum and National Museum in Chhauni, respectively.A 13th-century Chaturmukhi Shivalinga was also handed over by the Art Institute of Chicago in April to the Nepal Embassy in Washington DC.

US returns another antiquity to Nepal

Everyone in the world is running some kind of race. Some chase recognition. Some chase money. Others run simply to stay ahead of others. But there are some who run for others. They are not trying to overtake anyone, they do not do it for fame, they are not getting paid to do it. But they run to pay for the upliftment of those less privileged. Bal Joshi, 41, is originally from Surkhet. His father was involved in the democratic movement during the days of absolute monarchy and he remembers frequent police searches of the house. And with his father in hiding, the young Joshi had to take care of the family. When the family’s small shop failed, his mother took the young Bal and his brother back to the village, and that is where he completed his education, walking four hours roundtrip every day between home and school. He ran most of the way, and without realising it he has been running ever since. Life was hard. Rent, food, education. His mother struggled constantly. There were days when there was no money even to buy kerosene for the stove. At one point, he sold his calculator, worth Rs 300, for just Rs 80 to get by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251229031252_edb16b64a3d362a8dc86870bfa5deaad03a84e67d47f37cfd0bb5a8e584691fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  At 15, Joshi moved to Nepalganj to continue his education. He initially stayed with his uncles, but eventually began living on his own. The transition to city life was difficult, and he experienced significant economic hardship while trying to pursue his studies. There were times when he struggled to meet basic needs, and at one point he sold his calculator just to get by. When he was 17, after hearing that his father was seriously ill, Joshi travelled to Gujarat to bring him back home. His father died soon after, and Joshi took on responsibility for supporting his family. It was his mother who taught him that despite scarcity, life had to be lived with dignity. Joshi started working at a newspaper at the age of 16 as a proofreader, and later became a journalist. During the Maoist war when children were being orphaned as a result of violence by both sides, he became active in the Sahara Group, and at 19, he began managing an orphanage that took in conflict-affected children. In Bajhang, after the army killed a man on suspicion of being a Maoist, his wife jumped into the Seti River and ended her life. Their two children were taken into army custody. During the rescue process, Joshi met Sunaina Adhikari of the ICRC and back in Nepalganj they decided to get married. The conflict was still raging in western Nepal in 2005, when Joshi went to the United States. In Maryland, he initially worked at a Bengali-owned Subway outlet, spending long hours on his feet behind the counter. He changed jobs frequently, financing his education along the way, and ultimately graduated with a degree in finance in 2008. He joined Hancock Whitney Bank in Texas, and has risen up the ranks to be Senior Vice President. A colleague inspired him to run as a way to stay healthy. But it soon turned into something more meaningful — running more than a dozen 50km marathons for charity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251229031252_165a6d935860cf6707178aa2ac7395733883158f425bbe0ebed125529d601f61" data-rendition-name="original" width="999" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Running for dear life NT"> </figure>  Last year, Joshi returned to Nepal to run the Everest Marathon, and raised $42,000 which he donated to <a href="https://onestepfoundation.org/" target="_blank">One Step Foundation</a> which works on health care, child welfare and cultural preservation in Nepal and around the world. In June this year, Joshi and his family climbed Kilimanjaro, raising $19,000 for 80 HIV-affected orphaned children in Tanzania. During the Diwali festival he ran 220km in Nevada’s Red Canyon and raised $25,000 for cataract surgeries through the the <a href="https://www.theruitfoundation.org/" target="_blank">Ruit Foundation</a> in Nepal for cataract surgeries.&nbsp; Joshi does not run competitions, and is not trying to break any records. His motto is: “My race, my pace.”&nbsp; Turning his childhood scarcity into helping others, he says: “We all share sunlight, rain, air, and soil, nothing is truly just your own. I grew up without shoes, and I am fortunate to be able to distribute shoes to those who walk barefoot.” We ask Bal Joshi what (and where) next? His answer: the <a href="https://www.worldmarathonchallenge.com/" target="_blank">World Marathon Challenge</a> that will go around the world to run seven marathons in seven continents in seven days beginning in Antarctica at end-January.&nbsp; Joshi aims to run wearing the daura suruwal and Nepal’s flag as to show where he comes from, and how far in life he has come.

Running for dear life

A day after Rabi Lamichhane and Balen Shah <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/old-vs-new-in-nepal-in-2026-z6l4fgrd">came together to form an electoral alliance</a>, Kulman Ghising has also joined forces with the two leaders, merging his Ujyalo Nepal Party with the RSP.&nbsp; Following last-minute negotiations before Monday’s midnight deadline for parties to file their list of candidates for the Proportional Representation (PR) seats, Lamichhane and Ujyalo Nepal chair Anup Kumar Upadhyay signed a seven-point agreement to unify the two parties, with Balen Shah as witness.&nbsp; Per the deal, Ghising will be the vice-chair of the RSP, joining DP Aryal and Swarnim Wagle as the party’s seconds-in-command. The earlier agreement between Lamichhane and Shah retained Lamichhane as RSP chief, and promised Shah prime ministership if the party wins a majority in Parliament in March.&nbsp; Ghising’s team reportedly has a 17% share on the list of PR candidates filed by the RSP at the Election Commission. Balen has also fielded his own picks, and together the party has the likes of cricketer Gyandenra Malla, actress Reema Biswokarma, rights activist Mohna Ansari, climate activist Tashi Lhazom, and singer Prakash Saput as PR candidates. Ghising had held multiple rounds of talks with the RSP chair and the Kathmandu Mayor to discuss possible collaborations, but had failed to reach a power-sharing agreement. On Monday, Ghising had met with Lamichhane heeding a last-ditch effort from GenZ leaders, in particular Sudan Gurung, as they tried for the final time to get the interim Minister on board with Lamichhane and Shah before the PR list submission deadline.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025123004128_99e23ae7b6a042e71d271e3e74f7527086a7bb55779e6781bc9e7b711c8303e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025123004128_99e23ae7b6a042e71d271e3e74f7527086a7bb55779e6781bc9e7b711c8303e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1595" height="1087" loading="lazy" alt="Sudan Kulman Balen"> <figcaption>Photo: SUDAN GURUNG / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025123004128_d9f530704ab4c6e27eebf51f8e9fb55fed1d4281c99d089d06455cc7448bfda7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025123004128_d9f530704ab4c6e27eebf51f8e9fb55fed1d4281c99d089d06455cc7448bfda7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1026" height="1084" loading="lazy" alt="Balen and Sudan NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BALEN SHAH / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  The three are now set to make a formidable team to challenge mainstream parties at the polls. News of this alliance has been welcome to Nepalis who are looking for any alternatives to break the stronghold of the Oli-Deuba-Dahal trio over Nepali politics in recent history.&nbsp; But they will also carry each other’s baggage.&nbsp; Lamichhane, who was jailed for defrauding cooperatives depositors last year, was welcomed back as RSP party chair with open arms after he was released on bail last week. And while he has maintained his base of loyal supporters, he was subject to widespread criticism after he walked out of detention amid the jailbreak during the September protests, prompting his eventual voluntary return to prison.&nbsp; His party’s silencing and expulsion of critics within the RSP has also drawn direct comparison with the leadership structure of Nepal’s mainstream parties. Prominent leaders like Sumana Shrestha have left the party over disagreements with leadership.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Balen’s impassioned campaign resonated with Nepalis disillusioned with establishment leaders during the 2022 election and made him mayor of Kathmandu. The mayor’s direct, no-holds-barred style of communication and commentary has attained him much support beyond his constituency.&nbsp; But his unyielding, often unempathetic leadership style and policies— like his dismissal of street vendors and informal businesses during his drive to free up Kathmandu’s footpaths— have also earned him detractors. His recent outburst on social media in November that included expletives against both of Nepal’s neighbours and the US, as well as Nepal’s three main parties and the RSP was also widely criticised.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251230041212_fc2088daf32bac93541ebf25ca07725d75a721ae83440749ac8fa09d8fe308f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251230041212_fc2088daf32bac93541ebf25ca07725d75a721ae83440749ac8fa09d8fe308f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="890" height="1255" loading="lazy" alt="Agreement NT"> <figcaption>The seven-point agreement between RSP and Ujyalo Nepal Party.</figcaption> </figure>  Ghising, credited with ending Nepal’s prolonged load-shedding during his tenure as the chief of Nepal Electricity Authority, has a reputation of getting the job done. His public goodwill earned him a seat on Prime Minister Sushila Karki’s interim Cabinet following the youth protest.&nbsp; But he has also been under scrutiny for funds misappropriation as well as controversial power purchase agreements during his tenure as NEA chief. Ghising had foregone the leadership position at his Ujyalo party, preferring to play the role of patron until closer to the election date, but was nonetheless criticised for his political and electoral aspirations while being a member of the transitional government. It now remains to be seen if and when Ghising will step away from his position in the interim Cabinet and begin campaigning with his new partners.&nbsp; As it stands, the involvement of prominent GenZ figures in bringing together Ghising, Shah, and Lamichhane has established youth leaders as major players in Nepal’s post-September political landscape. These leaders will have significant pull with young and first-time voters. But not all young leaders are impressed with this new triumvirate. Some have pointed out that the unity between these three leaders is no different from the political opportunism and quid-pro-quo power-sharing culture established and followed by Nepal’s mainstream leadership for the last three decades which culminated into the GenZ movement of September.

Kulman follows Balen to RSP

Koreana Coffee Guff begins with a scene where Narayan Wagle, the editor-turned-farmer, appears in reverse cameo, as a character in a novel. He has just landed at Incheon in the dead of winter.&nbsp; The opening premise reminds one of Tolstoy’s saying about how stories begin either when someone goes on a journey, or when a stranger comes to town. ‘The winds of each city are its original inheritance, shaped by its local language, its specific topography and the buffets of the airborne wings of birds and airplanes,’ Wagle writes.&nbsp; The author is both on a journey and a stranger to the town. The word ‘stranger’ might need to be redefined here, as he has visited Korea several times before. But if every journey is new, then he is a stranger of sorts — stranger to the people he meets for the first time in the book, stranger to the reader who will encounter him for the first time like I did in high school reading the English translation of his 2005 Madan Puraskar winning novel Palpasa Cafe.&nbsp; Koreana is non-fiction, and was first published in 2017 in Nepali, and recently rendered into English by Prawin Adhikari, who specialises in translating Nepali works into English in such a way that they do not read like translations at all.&nbsp; Even so, I turned to a few chapters from the original text, curious to see how ideas have morphed. Take Wagle’s journey to Ansan Mountain. It is the same mountain, but something different happens in the two languages. The inexplicable feeling is that the translation has to conquer the mountain itself. At its best, the book gives the reader a peek into Wagle’s mind, his internal monologues, his writing ideas, his thoughts on the people around him, his deep yearning and respect for nature, his exploration of Seoul and Korea, where he is attending the Asian Literary Creative Writing Workshop in 2017.&nbsp; BACK TO THE LAND ‘All cities appear the same everywhere,’ he writes of Seoul, speaking of how ‘development’ has masked the original charm of a city rebuilt after war. In recent years, Wagle has moved on from being the editor of Kantipur, to activism, and has now returned to his ancestral land in Tanahu to farm.&nbsp; Clues to this metamorphosis can be detected in this book, which was written nearly ten years ago and before his transition. Wagle used to write a column called Coffee Guff, and the book carries that conversational style.&nbsp; But not all monologues land. Thoughts rooted in a specific time and space like the hike to Ansan where the author reflects on buildings, birds, and trees feel connected with a context and background. Then there are those that bring in a new metaphor, a new reflection, a new connection in almost each new sentence which make it difficult to follow the author’s stream of consciousness.&nbsp; Halfway into the book, we finally meet the writers who have come from different parts of Asia for the workshop. Not speaking a common language, the writers have to rely on interpreters and Google, which turns their exchanges into quirky moments of laughter.&nbsp; Writers are an important part of the book, the lens through which Wagle invites us to see the world. Poets Manjul from Nepal and Shiva Ryu from Korea make guest appearances. Through two Korean writers who share the surname Kim, we get a glimpse into Korean history and society, and how writing is intertwined with politics.&nbsp; This Korea is different from the Kpop idols and skincare routine that has dominated recent imagination of the divided peninsular nation. Wagle writes, ‘Literature attempts to unite, politics impedes it. They are being continuously thwarted by the conflicts ongoing in the nation’s politics.’&nbsp; One of the Kims is Kim Min-jung (김민정), author of The World’s Most Expensive Novel, that explores what it means to be a writer in Korea.&nbsp; Reading Koreana feels like a hike through a jungle. If one is able to move past the tangled and stretched monologues, the book can hold moments of awe and wonder. But there is always a desire for a clearer trail to follow. &nbsp;&nbsp; Narayan Wagle’s characteristic witticism is there aplenty, his observations are astute. Writers exploring their craft and readers curious of what is churning inside Wagle’s mind will find treats -- sometimes well-crafted, other times to be searched between the lines. &nbsp; Alfa M Shakya is a writer, researcher, and podcaster. She runs and hosts ‘How’d You Create That?’, an art podcast about the creative process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251230071252_5503c9fb08d62adb328d8f817b353604429559d3d9c6542edf3663c3f8c554e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Korean coffee guff English translation review"> </figure>

Coffee guff from Korea

From stone spouts to cast-iron mains, Nepal’s water system and its struggle to provide safe water tells a larger story of power, disease, dependency — and lessons for the future. From 1823 to 1891, the Nepali state made just two notable interventions in Kathmandu’s drinking water system. The first was when Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa commissioned a stone pout (hiti) to tap groundwater within the valley’s traditional supply system. The second came nearly 70 years later with Nepal’s first industrial-era water system, the Bir Water Works in 1891 under Prime Minister Bir Shumsher Rana. Linking these two milestones was the spectre of cholera. From the 19th century on there were seven global cholera pandemics. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0264410X19309995#bb0325" target="_blank">Originating in Asia</a>, the disease reached Europe and the Americas, the Vibrio cholera bacillus breeding in poor sanitation wherever it found it. The first wave erupted in 1817, followed by others in 1829, 1852, 1863, 1881, 1889 and, finally, in 1961, the seventh pandemic which still lingers on. London, the epicentre of the Industrial Revolution, was repeatedly stricken. In Britain ‘miasma’ foul air was blamed. &nbsp;In Nepal, cholera was seen as divine damnation. By the late 19th century, as Nepal’s relationship with Britain deepened, the Bir Water Works was inaugurated in 1891 as a defence against cholera. Whether cholera also shaped Bhimsen Thapa’s decision in 1823 is less clear. Contemporary records note the commissioning of Sundhara, but do not refer to the cholera epidemic raging at the time. The silence itself is telling: Nepal’s elites were ruling in the shadow of the disease. Bhimsen Thapa first resided in Thapathali Palace, which was built in 1802 by Nain Singh Thapa, father of Mathabarsingh Thapa, who would briefly become prime minister in the 1840s. In 1806, Bhimsen Thapa moved to Bagh Durbar, a new complex on the western edge of Tundikhel. Historians are vague about the water supply in the residences of the nobility, but wells and water hauled from rivers, ponds, canals, and other sources were likely the primary sources. A small hiti north of Bagh Durbar, near today’s Sun Dhara, may have supplied the palace. In 1823, Bhimsen Thapa had it enlarged, making it the last and largest state-built hiti in Kathmandu. Even as Bhimsen Thapa was involved in palace intrigues and border conflicts, Britain was engineering pipelines. By the late 18th century, Sir Thomas Simpson had invented the bell-and-spigot joint, making long-distance pipes viable. Fluid dynamics, dealing with pumps, pipes, and filters, was becoming a foundational discipline. In Kathmandu, the scourge continued. Cholera struck Kathmandu repeatedly, in 1862, 1867, 1872, 1874 and 1875. The 1872 epidemic, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera" target="_blank">according to historian Tom Robertson</a>, claimed between 200 and 250 lives a day. On average, cholera killed between 1,200 and 1,500 people annually in Kathmandu Valley, an enormous toll for its small population. The summer of 1885 was especially calamitous: a cholera epidemic ravaged Kathmandu and its periphery from the beginning of June until late August. The disease even breached the royal palace, reportedly killing 23 people, mostly young girls. Records show that 909 people received treatment at the British Residency dispensary, and estimates suggest that as many as 10,000 people perished in a city of 50,000. In November that year, Bir Shumsher seized power in a coup. He inherited not only a premiership but a Valley ridden with disease. Cholera was endemic, and it was accompanied by typhoid, smallpox, goitre, syphilis, and chronic dyspepsia. The The British Residency dispensary at Lainchaur was inadequate. “In a poor country like ours, wealth means health,” Bir Shumsher remarked, an unusually pragmatic admission that epidemics were not divine punishment but structural afflictions of urban life. He soon pledged to expand health care. In 1889, he opened Bir Hospital and staffed it with Indian doctors to treat cholera, typhoid, smallpox, and other prevalent illnesses. PIPED WATER Bir Shumsher also recognised the need for safe drinking water. Between 1866 and 1872, he had served as Nepal’s ambassador in Calcutta, and he must have seen water mains already in operation there, and a filtration plant inaugurated in 1870. Madras had installed such a system as early as 1800, Bombay constructed the Vihar and Tulsi reservoirs in the mid-19th century. In Kathmandu British Residency personalities such as George Gimlette must have urged Bir’s government to quicken the construction of the hospital and water system, yet the archival traces of such exchanges still await historical scrutiny. By the late 19th century, the British had developed a technological ecosystem for water supply, intakes, pipes, fittings, reservoirs, and trained engineers. Bir Shumsher appealed to the British Government in India for engineering assistance. A British engineer named Mr Feigneur surveyed Kathmandu to prepare maps, and estimated the volume of water that could be brought from the Rudramati River. In 1889, a more experienced engineer, Lockhart Matthew Sinclair arrived. He was a Scotsman educated at Wellington College and the Royal Indian Engineering College, with prior experience in constructing waterworks in Jubbulpore and the Viceregal Palace in Shimla. Appointed State Engineer of Nepal (1889–1892), Sinclair reviewed Feigneur’s plans, updated them, and chose the Bishnumati River as the source of the city’s drinking water. Sinclair’s design included a reservoir at Panipokhari, at 1,330m elevation and 30m above &nbsp;Tundikhel, thereby enabling gravity-fed distribution in pipes. With a capacity of 7,327 cubic metres, the reservoir could store nine days of supply.&nbsp; The system was designed to serve about 70,000 residents through both private connections and public standpipes. The reservoir was a single-compartment tank with an arched brick roof covered in earth and turf. Its brick walls were bonded with lime mortar and aggregate, and its floor was dressed with fly stone. Work on the valley’s water supply began in 1888, three years after Bir Shumsher seized power. The following year, Bir Hospital and the Bir Water Works took shape. The project involved some 40km of imported cast-iron pipes, weighing 1.866 million kg and inscribed with the marks of Scottish foundries ‘Ally and McLean’ and ‘Glasgow’. Construction required 620,000 man-days of labour and cost over Rs600,000. Transport costs inflated prices: <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">a load of cement</a> costing Rs10 in Calcutta was worth Rs33 by the time it reached Kathmandu. Bir Water Works was inaugurated in September 1891, six years after the cholera epidemic. Water flowed out of 131 taps, including eight in Lainchaur, six in the royal palace, eleven in the prime minister’s palace, sixteen around Tundikhel, thirteen in Thapathali, seven in Thamel, and two in Naxal. The system’s designation, the term ‘works’ , echoes the Chelsea, Calcutta, and Glasgow Water Works, underlining its industrial pedigree. Water was also supplied to Phora Durbar, Bir Shumsher’s palace of music and dance whose fountains sprayed rose-scented water in a display of opulence. The <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-" target="_blank">Bir Dhara Works</a> was more than an engineering scheme: it was Nepal’s first modern public-health intervention. Safer drinking water curbed waterborne disease, and the number of cholera outbreaks declined, but were not eliminated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254" data-rendition-name="original" width="865" height="535" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971" data-rendition-name="original" width="2791" height="3859" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>  “Now we have water to fight cholera, and I believe cholera will no longer prevail. After four years of piped water, the benefits have been greater than expected,” Bir Shumsher said in a proclamation. Despite this, the prevalence of poor sanitation, open defecation, cramped housing, and malnutrition meant that typhoid, smallpox, and dyspepsia remained endemic. The Bir Dhara system marked Kathmandu’s transition from reliance on wells, rivers, springs, and hiti to piped water, operating for several decades and laying the foundation for the expansion of drinking water services across the country in the late twentieth century. <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">Extensions followed in Patan</a> under Chandra Shumsher, and Bhim Shumsher later added the Tri Bhim Dhara. Piped water systems were subsequently constructed in towns such as Kirtipur, Bhaktapur, Dhankuta, Pokhara, Dhulikhel, and Jajarkot which itself saw a deadly cholera outbreak in 2009.&nbsp; CHOLERA METAPHOR In 1933, Nepal’s first water bureaucracy, the Pani Goswara, was established, formalising state involvement in urban water supply. Yet even till the late 20th century, households continue to rely on a mix of sources, including public water networks, private vendors, rooftop storage tanks, borewells, wells, hiti, and household filtration. The lack of reliable water supply places disproportionate financial, physical, and psychological burdens on low-income households, underscoring how decades of infrastructure expansion have not translated into universal, reliable service. during challenges in governance, investment priorities, and regulation. Bir Shumsher also attempted to introduce <a href="https://www.ukaalo.com/news/cholera-in-kathmandu-1958/" target="_blank">basic hygiene measures</a>, such as pit latrines with squatting slabs. However, there is no record of these facilities being built in his palaces, later built palaces, or elsewhere. Sanitation conditions remained poor for both the elite and the general population. Open defecation or the use of crude pit latrines without proper waste disposal was common. With no drainage or sewer systems, human waste accumulated near homes, contributing to the spread of waterborne diseases. In 2019, Nepal declared itself ‘open defecation free’, a policy milestone, but this achievement masks the persistence of deeper problems. Urban areas generate some 867 million litres of wastewater daily, yet only 7% of it is treated before being discharged. Sewage flows untreated into rivers and streams, spreading cholera, typhoid, dysentery, and other diseases, particularly among children and vulnerable communities. Safe disposal of faecal sludge continues to be a major struggle for many communities and local governments. Besides Jajarkot, Godavari in Kathmandu Valley had a localised outbreak in 2024. This year, Birganj was struck by a cholera outbreak caused by a lethal combination of unreliable water supply, groundwater overpumping, poor drainage and hygiene, and unsafe waste disposal. And Nepal’s peacekeepers deployed after the earthquake in Haiti in 2010 were blamed for spreading cholera that ultimately killed 30,000 people in the Caribbean nation. The Bir Water Works was more than a reservoir and pipes. It was Nepal’s first brush with modernity, mediated through engineering and haunted by cholera. More than 134 years on, cholera remains a threat and a reminder of Nepal’s challenges in water and sanitation governance. The issue is not merely ensuring access to safe water but also building public trust that quality essential services can be delivered equitably, sustainably, and with resilience. Ajaya Dixit is a Kathmandu-based researcher exploring Nepal’s water history since the mid-eighteenth century to inform ethical water and river management in a changing climate.

patan