<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08219c7e80680e0a5ffejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="595"/><figcaption>Pokhara on a clear autumn day. All photos: KRISHNA MANI BARAL</figcaption></figure>The once pristine Phewa Lake that used to reflect the majestic Annapurnas and Machhapuchre <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/pokharas-shrinking-lakes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">is shrinking</a>, depriving Pokhara of its main attraction.Siltation from the river and streams feeding into it have reduced its area, the lake has become an urban garbage and sewage dumping site, and real estate speculators have encroached on the banks. Geologists have calculated that the lake accumulates more than 142,000 tonnes of sediment every year.Tourism-driven urbanisation and pollution mean that the famous lake is now devoid of its aquatic life, and there has been a visible decline in the number of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-great-trans-himalayan-bird-migration/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">migratory birds</a> nesting here. Indicator insects such as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/night-of-the-firefly/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">fireflies</a>, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/project-dragonfly/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">dragonflies</a> and butterflies that depend on clean water sources have also started to vanish.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08239c7e80680e0a5fffjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1067"><figcaption>Parts of Phewa Lake have become an urban garbage and sewage dumping site.</figcaption></figure>But more worryingly, this important <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18976" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">wetland</a> in Pokhara and a major Ramsar site is shrinking rapidly due to increased sediment load due to haphazard building and road construction on the slopes above the lake.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/monsoon-hits-nepal-with-a-bang/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Unusually heavy monsoon downpours</a> last month in the Phewa watershed washed down silt into the lake, turning the water turbid brown, and submerging paddy fields in the river delta.In 1957, Phewa Lake was 1,119 hectares, but a survey earlier this year by Gandaki Province showed it had shrunk to 572 hectares. “At this rate, Phewa taal will be reduced to a mere pond in the next two decades,” says local Pame resident Shankar Aryal.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08269c7e80680e0a6000jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2568" height="1584"><figcaption>The original extent of Phew Lake. It has shrunk by half today.</figcaption></figure>Phewa Lake was originally <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/pokhara-six-decades-ago/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">stretched as far west as Chankhapur, </a>and boats would go up to Pame to transport goods. Traders from as far as Parbat district used these boats to bring their produce to lakeside, transfer them to mules bound for Pokhara’s market. But with the extension of the road to Pame in 1994, people started using vehicles for transportation.What used to be a boat dock is now a swamp and has been filling up with sediment for the past two years. The land mafia has encroached further on the lake by using tipper trucks to dump soil on the lake to sell for new residential plots.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d082a9c7e80680e0a6001jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2500" height="1667"><figcaption>Boats docked at the shore of Phew lakeside in Pokhara last week on water made turbid by sediments.</figcaption></figure>“Wetlands are the earth's kidneys, they filter water at the source, which then flows into the lake. Their deterioration and disappearance do not bode well for our water bodies and causes the lake to shrink further,” explains conservationist Raju Acharya.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-braces-for-monsoon-pandemic-double-hit/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Irregular precipitation patterns due to the impact of the global climate crisis</a> have added to the problem. Pokhara receives the most rain in Nepal even at normal times. Earlier this month, it recorded 210mm of rain (10% of the annual average) in just 24 hours, bringing down huge quantities of sediment and raising the lake bed in the shallow shore near Chankhapur.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d082e9c7e80680e0a6002jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="683"><figcaption>Much of what used to be Phewa Lake has already been turned into paddy fields as the lake shrinks.</figcaption></figure>On one hand, the rise in water level allowed for invasive species such as water hyacinth found on the mouth of the lake to spread further and clog up the fish cages, resulting in financial losses for local businesses.But <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/heavier-than-usual-monsoon-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">heavy, incessant rains</a> also bring in large amounts of deposits. Landslides in the catchment area flow through the Khare River and into the Harpan River, the main source of Phewa lake. This in turn raises the bed of the lake, which like Pokhara’s other lakes, were formed after a catastrophic flood 800 years ago on the Seti River after a landslide dam burst upstream, covering the valley in debris 100m deep.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08309c7e80680e0a6003jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="683"><figcaption>The eastern edge of Phewa Lake has filled up with sediment, and this process is accelerating.</figcaption></figure>Much of what used to be Phewa Lake has already been turned into paddy fields as the lake shrinks. Pokhara Mayor Man Bahadur GC has vowed to clean up the lake and turn it back to its original condition. But his words have not been turned into action yet.Pokhara Metropolis with the Gandaki Province built <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/pokhara-lake-lowered/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cofferdams and siltation ponds</a> last year to prevent soil and pebbles from the Harpan, Andheri River, Lauruk and Betayani Khola flowing in and then filling up the lake.But the check dam on Harpan Khola is already filled with sand and boulders from last month’s floods.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08339c7e80680e0a6004jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Tourism-driven urbanisation and pollution have depleted Phewa's aquatic and bird life. Increased siltation due to haphazard road construction in the watershed has turned the water brown this monsoon.</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08369c7e80680e0a6005jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1067"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d08399c7e80680e0a6006jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">A total of four dams were approved, their construction began in December 2019 and by July 2020 they were completed at Rs281.6 million. But even as they were under construction, locals and experts alike claimed that they were not strong enough to check the siltation.“The water flow is too strong and the dams are too shallow for them to be of much use,” says local resident Bishu Dahal. “But the project people didn’t even listen to the experts, so it has just been a waste of money.”<h2>How big is Phewa Lake? Depends whom you ask.</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110151116/636d083d9c7e80680e0a6007jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2600" height="1733"><figcaption>National and international surveyors have tried to calculate the exact area of Phewa Lake for the past 100 years, with different results.</figcaption></figure>Phewa Lake has a close to a century-long history of survey data from national and international experts to calculate its exact area:1924: British Survey of India 3.46 sq km1957: Survey of India 4.39 sq km1960: Nepal-India Support Mission 10.35 sq km1974: First Fort measurement 4.43 sq km1980: Nepal-UNDP Survey 5.80 sq km1994: IUCN Report 4.49 sq km2000: District Development Committee, Kaski 4.2. sq km2006: Pokhara Valley Urban Development Committee 5.03 sq km2011: Bishowoprakash Lamichanne Report 6.5 sq km2014: Ministry of Land Reform 5.07 sq km2020: Pokhara Metropolis 5.08 sq km2020: Gandaki Province Report 5.726 sq km

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Pokhara’s shrinking Phewa Lake

<figure></figure> <img width="1024" height="683" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110101156/636ccae59c7e80680e08bb93jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: KRISHNA MANI BARAL</figcaption> Visitors to Pokhara this week have been disappointed to see that the famous Phewa Lake has receded, leaving a large expanse of mud flats by the shore.The reason is maintenance of the dam that was built 40 years ago and had started leaking because the rubber seal on its gates had not been repaired since. The municipality has also taken the opportunity of the water level being lowered by 2m to strengthen the foundation. “We decided to do all the repairs at once before the monsoon and it will mean that the water level will be below normal for another two months or so until the lake fills up again,” said chief engineer of the Department of Irrigation, Kiran Acharya. <img width="1024" height="683" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110101156/636ccae89c7e80680e08bb94jpeg.jpg" alt=""> The dam was built mainly to provide irrigation to 600 hectares downstream to the Seti basin, but also to generate 1MW of electricity.But Phewa is such an attraction that it has attracted visitors from far and wide who have come to see the dry lake bed. However, it has affected fisher folk who have been using the lake for aquaculture who complain that they were not informed about the repairs and lost up to 16kg of fish.The municipality has also increased vigilance against land grabbers who might want to take over parts of the dry lake bed. This is to prevent a repeat of the encroachment of the Phewa Lake after damage to the dam 25 years ago which required the water level to be lowered.

Pokhara lake lowered

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

The Kangchenjunga Trek in far-eastern Nepal is a remote and less-crowded adventure that offers raw wilderness, diverse cultures, and breathtaking terrain below the world’s third highest mountain. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) grabbed the world’s attention before Mt Everest ever did because its imposing rampart dominated the northern horizon from Darjeeling, the summer refuge for the British in India. The Kangchenjunga massif is more a mountain range rather than a peak, its high ridge stretching 25km from Nepal to Sikkim.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c" data-rendition-name="original" width="938" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga trail map"></figure>  Sikkim considers the mountain sacred, and has banned mountaineering expeditions. But the various prominences of Kangchenjunga are increasingly popular for climbers via the north face in Nepal. For non-mountaineers, even the Kangchenjunga trek can be arduous, especially in winter. It is one of the last pure wilderness areas in Nepal, traversing sparsely populated valleys that are rich in biodiversity because of the high annual rainfall. Even when Nepal was a forbidden land, among the first foreign visitors was British botanist J D Hooker who explored the Nepal side of Kangchenjunga in 1850 to collect plant samples. The peak was first climbed in 1955, two years after the first ascent of Mt Everest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The establishment of Kangchenjunga Conservation Area in September 2006 was accompanied by tragedy when 24 people, including Nepal’s nature preservation pioneers were killed in a helicopter crash. The Conservation Area is now the only one managed completely by the local indigenous people. It has 70 varieties of orchids, 30 rhododendron types, and 15 out of 28 endemic plants of Nepal. Kangchenjunga still gets very few of the 200,000 foreign trekkers who visit Nepal every year, but improved road access in recent years is making it more popular. Trekkers have a choice of exploring the North Base Camp (Pangpema) or the South Base Camp (Yalung Glacier), or combine both for the full Kangchenjunga Circuit (map). This trek is considered strenuous, with long walking days, high altitude, and tea house accommodation that is much more basic than the Everest or Annapurna regions. Trekkers have to be fit and with prior hiking experience. Most teams take tents and camp, and carry most of their food.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  FULL CIRCUIT Because the region is restricted, trekkers must obtain a permit and be accompanied by a licensed guide. A full circuit can take three weeks, while doing only the North or South Base Camps will take two weeks, including flying from Kathmandu to Bhadrapur and jeep to Taplejung or a rough trail to Hellok. The lower forested stretches are teeming with wildlife, and this is red panda and snow leopard country. The streams and ponds have amphibians and reptiles, some of which have not yet even been classified. The route also passes the homelands of the Limbu, Rai and Tibetan communities with the local culture and architecture more intact than in most other mountain areas of Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The best seasons to trek are spring (March–May) and autumn (September–November). There are fewer trekkers and climbers in winter, and many of the birds and wildlife have migrated down to warmer climes. Despite its beauty, trekkers should be prepared for challenges like long distances between villages, unpredictable weather, and limited emergency rescue options due to the remoteness of the area — all even more challenging in winter. Norbu Lama is an international hiking guide with www.dolpocaravantreks.com and just returned after leading a trek to Kangchenjunga Base Camps.

Kangchenjunga in winter

People like myself were too young during the decade of the Maoist War to remember its horrors. We often wonder what life was truly like back then. Perhaps the closest we have come to experiencing a national crisis of that scale – with the protests, violence, curfews, and political maneuvering – was the GenZ movement in September. How did people cope? What did they fear? What was it like in the cities and &nbsp;villages? How was it that the king still held so much power? What motivated the guerrillas? And, how did &nbsp;ordinary people adjust and endure the war? My curiosity about the war that ended 20 years ago &nbsp;was met with a rollercoaster of emotions with Monica Rana’s debut novel, The Paths We Choose. The novel is not a retelling of events from the vantage of leaders, rebels. It is not about the violence, but a carefully curated perspective of ordinary people caught up in it. It is a glimpse into how the war altered or defined their paths. This is the 'People’s War' from the people’s own perspective. Readers are immediately invested into the lives of two central characters, the sister duo, Sumnima and Rita. The elder radiating from the beginning with her brave and cunning aura, and the latter, more timid and obedient, much of her time absorbed in awe of her sister. The writer’s language flows as effortlessly as the sisters’ strides up the hills to steal mangoes from Dhire Dai’s trees, only to race back down to Rato Mato, carrying us through their journey into adolescence. Amidst the rolling hills, mango trees, life is filled with laughter, adventures, and everyday banter, scenes so serene that they carry an unsettling calm that hints at what lies ahead. Village life is not all painted in romantic hues. The stark reality of poverty, subsistence, and contrast with the comfort of city living are never far away. Amidst these reminders, there runs a humbling truth: happiness once rested on small things, not on the material excess that define urban life. As the pages turn, the title begins to resonate: two sisters, once bound by the same bloodline, shared dreams, and the same roof, are caught in the crosshairs of war and forced onto separate paths. One by choice, and the other by necessity. The story unfolds with the seasons: the relentless monsoon rains, the scorching heat of summer, and a liberating winter that carries bittersweet truths. The year is 2001, as the insurgency intensifies. Against this backdrop, the cousins’ lives diverge. Sumnima is drawn into the rebels’ ranks to 'fight for equality and freedom', while Rita is uprooted, carried across distances, and placed in Seto Bangala as a helping hand among the higher-ups, in her family’s desperate attempt to secure her a better life after their village is reduced to a 'ghost city' by violent attacks. There are betrayals and beginnings, high palaces and humble hills, royals and rurals, identity and ideology, loss and lament, distance and discovery. Through upheavals, tears, and struggles, one thing remains constant: both sisters wonder about the other. They care. They long to reconnect. They hold fast to the dream they once shared to open a guesthouse in their village someday. A dream to simply live with no fear. To be free. To be happy. And, to be together. The writing illuminates vital themes: innocent people caught up in strife, the vast chasm of class from royals dining on silver plates to villagers back home hiding their last grain to save it from looters. And discrimination so stark it was as if people carried labels on their foreheads, marked by caste, skin colour, and gender. The sisters eventually reunite, but their journey is not an easy one, and what lies ahead is far from the future either of them once imagined. One might romanticise it as fate, or might recoil at the harsh reality Monica Rana lays bare: it is often the innocent who bear the heaviest burdens of war. Civilians are trapped between warring sides, enduring hunger, displacement, and violence through no fault of their own. Wars continue to rage across the world. Though the novel does not particularly focus on exposing the horrifying depths of war crimes, it remains a timeless reminder of what the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once said: “The war will end, and leaders will shake hands. The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son. And those children will keep waiting for their hero father. I don’t know who sold our homeland, but I saw who paid the price.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The paths we choose book review"> </figure>

phewa-lake

Pokhara’s shrinking Phewa Lake

Pokhara lake lowered

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

The Himalaya is not fragile

Kangchenjunga in winter

The war between people