<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110101156/636ccac39c7e80680e08bb87jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="2000"/>There was a time when smartphone shoppers looked for phones packed with every feature they could possibly need. Everybody wanted a phone that is a radio, torch, camera, Internet portal, gaming console, alarm clock, calculator, map, calendar, personal assistant, notepad and more – all rolled into one block of various metals, wrapped in plastic (or glass).These days, phone users are just looking for a great camera to capture moments to share. Yes, battery life and physical features are still important when making a purchase, but with most premium phones averaging at a battery capacity of 3500-5000mAH, the power bank is hardly a matter of contention.Regarding the physical appearance, snazzy phone covers and pop sockets are still trending, making it easy for people to regularly reinvent the way their phone looks. Turns out that choosing a smartphone is like choosing a romantic partner -- it helps to have good looks, of course, but quality and performance are what will determine whether the relationship is a lasting one.So, the camera is queen. The key point to keep in mind is whether the smartphone you have your heart set on has the camera quality you want or need.In most cameras, the image sensor plays an important role. The bigger the pixel size, the better the camera performance. For example, a 48 MP camera with a 1/2-inch sized sensor is considered pretty good. You want your pixels to be large, as a larger pixel can capture more light than a smaller pixel.The ability to capture more light means better performance when you’re taking pictures with friends at a dimly lit bar, when light is at a premium. A lot of phone makers tie up with well-known brands to bump up their camera setup, which allows Nokia to offer a Carl Zeiss lens and Huawei to partner with Leica.However, bigger, better sensors and a larger pixel size is not always possible. Enter a technique called pixel binning, a powerful process that sees data from four pixels combined into one.So, a camera sensor with tiny 0.9 micron pixels will produce results equivalent to 1.8 micron pixels when taking a pixel-binned shot. Smartphone manufacturers use this to keep customers happy with camera quality, especially in the budget phone segment.Ultra high resolution cameras may take time to come to the Nepal mobile market, but the current crop of 40MP and 48MP sensors are already showing impressive results when using pixel binning. With ever-improving capabilities like night modes, better zoom, and AI smarts, there is plenty of potential for better smartphone photos right now.The tiny hole that you can see inside your phone camera lens concerns the opening of the lens, or the aperture. Let’s pretend there are doors sliding in front of your camera lens: you may call these doors Aperture. How much these doors open and close, and how much light they let in, determines the quality of picture.The lower the number next to the ‘F’ (signifying Focal Length), the brighter and more visible your photo will be. Unlike DSLR cameras, most smartphones come with a fixed aperture, but luckily, nowadays the ‘Pro’ mode on your phone camera offers customisation of the aperture.Google Pixel is a great example of a phone that excels with a single lens, but multi lens is an added bonus. Instead of counting the visible camera lenses on your phone (triple cam, anyone?), you are better off judging the phone’s image processing skills.This is a software that processes the data that is captured by the camera. Unlike a sensor or a lens, which cannot be changed or replaced after you get your phone, image processing is an AI system based on algorithms that can actually be altered or improved post-purchase.Tip: To test the power of image processing, try installing G Cam (the Google Camera app) on your Android phone and check out the different it makes to your picture quality.Basic features to look out for:HDR Mode: High Dynamic Range mode allows the camera to click over-exposed, under-exposed and normal images which it combines to produce a well-balanced high-definition photograph with great clarity, excellent detailing and accurate colouring.Portrait Mode: This premium feature blurs the background, and keeps the object in the foreground sharp and clear. Portrait Mode plays with the depth of field to give a unique, dreamy effect that will garner heavy Likes.Optical Zoom vs. Digital Zoom: Optical Zoom uses the actual lens of the camera to zoom into a frame before clicking. Digital Zoom uses digital software to zoom into the frame and crop it to produce the picture, but this compromises the quality of image.EIS and OIS: Often photographs and videos come out blurry or shaky because of manual handling of the phone without a stabilising accessory like a tripod or gimble (popular with professionals). This is when EIS and OIS come to the rescue. EIS (Electronic Image Stabilisation) helps make the video recording smoother by cropping some of the bad frames automatically. OIS (Optical Image Stabilisation) is hardware-related and not a digital shortcut to perfection. This means that phones that offer camera setups with OIS support tend to cost more, usually because high-end flagship models offer it.Panorama Mode: Labelled ‘Pano’ on many phones, this feature was once a novelty, but now an expected ‘essential’ that allows the phone to capture more of a scene by combining images to create a horizontally wide panoramic photo. This is a great addition for people in Nepal who regularly capture mountain views on treks.Time Lapse: A filmmaker’s favourite this feature lets you take a sequence of frames at set intervals to record changes that take place slowly over time. When the frames are shown at normal speed, the action seems much faster, as you may have seen the sun setting bit by bit really quick, or flowers blooming in movies.

Saniaa Shah

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The full picture on phone cameras

<figure><img width="1623" height="741" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba65c9c7e80680e073717jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>+ When <a href="1)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/the-kathmandu-airlift-begins/">Kalim Miya in the UAE and Bhumika in Kuwait</a> found themselves stranded abroad after the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic, they took to social media via Facebook Live videos to seek help. Both of them are back in their villages in Nepal now, and attribute the early repatriation to their online outreach that drew them widespread attention.+ The Nepal Embassy in Malaysia holds <a href="2)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/preparing-for-nepals-returnees/">weekly Facebook sessions</a> with updates and answers to questions which are viewed by hundreds of thousands of Nepali migrants in the country.+When a video of a <a href="3)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepali-guard-beaten-in-malaysia-goes-viral/">Nepali security guard getting beaten up mercilessly</a> by his supervisor in Malaysia went viral earlier this month, it drew attention of the Malaysian authorities, even though similar cases happen on a daily basis and go unnoticed.+ Soon <a href="4)%09https:/www.nepalitimes.com/latest/nepalis-caught-up-in-beirut-blast-recount-horror/">after the explosion in Beirut, Nepalis based in Lebanon</a> were quick to inform their families and each other about their safety via social media.These are just a few of recent examples where social media has played a key role in spotlighting stories of Nepali migrant communities and their families cope with this unprecedented global crisis. On the one hand, the pandemic demands isolation but on the other the Internet offers connectedness across borders.“It barely feels like we are abroad these days because we are in such close contact with frequent real-time updates,” says Yubraj, who is working in Qatar and the son of Kuma Bahadur, a 60-year-old returnee who had himself worked in Saudi Arabia in the 1990s.Yubaraj recalls growing up and writing letters to his father in longhand and mailing it by post. It would sometimes take months to get a reply.  <figure><img width="200" height="269" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6609c7e80680e073718jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="606" height="870" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6619c7e80680e073719jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“My father tried to write at least once a month. I remember he used to be very curious about tiny  details about the condition of our farm and the livestock,” Yubaraj says. “He did not share much about his life in Saudi Arabia.”Perhaps Yubaraj’s father had nothing to say about Saudi Arabia because he never got to see much of the country. He was brought straight from the airport to the majara farm where he worked, and after a few years he was taken right back to the airport to fly back to Nepal.Yubaraj’s letters to his father were mainly messages from his younger siblings, trivia from the neighbourhood, whose water buffalo gave birth, the harvest, and updates about his studies.“There wasn’t anything new or exciting to share about our lives, and the letters were more to keep him connected to home, and to let him know we missed him,” adds Yubaraj, who went to the local post office every two weeks to see if there was a letter from his father. He used to get anxious if there was no letter for over a month.Three years after Kum Bahadur left for Saudi Arabia in the 1990s, the village got its first landline phone. One day the didi from the shop rushed to Yubaraj’s house to say there was a call. My grand-aunt spoke to my father first and broke down when she heard his voice for the first time in years.“It was an emotional moment,” Yubraj says, adding that the calls were expensive. “Phone calls were short and rare, it was just to hear each others’ voices. The details were in our letters.”Years later, in 2007, it was Yubraj’s turn to seek his fortune in Qatar. By this time, there was already a landline in his house, but calls were still expensive. So, he still wrote letters to his father, but this time their roles were reversed – his father was in Nepal and he was abroad.“I still remember the first letter I wrote to my family from Qatar,” remembers Yubraj. “I told them about my struggles in the desert heat and the stark contrast with the cool air of Lamjung. I also described to them showers did not help cool off because the water was warm no matter which knob I used.”He tried to sound positive in his letters, just like his father, so his family would not worry too much. But he also wrote to them that he could have achieved more in Nepal itself, had he been willing to work as hard as he did in Qatar. One day, Yubaraj saw his manager get a new Nokia 6300, but it took him two years to be able to save enough to afford one so he could stay in touch with his family.   <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6639c7e80680e07371ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kum Bahadur used to farm in a majara in Saudi Arabia, growing watermelon and camel fodder. He had never understood what a majara was until he visited Nepalis toiling in a farm in the desert.He says: “It brought tears to my eyes, thinking about how hard my father had to struggle in Saudi Arabia. We have it much easier now. At least we are in close touch.”***In his 24 years in Qatar, Kareem Bakhsh Miya has seen how advances in communication technology have changed the way migrant workers communicate with families back home.“We used to send letters or cassettes with 60 minute voice recordings to our family members,” he recalls. “I even had pen-friends all over Nepal to whom I wrote frequently. I spent a lot on postage because my letters were so heavy. As a loyal customer, the post office rewarded my family so they were able to send six months of letters for free.” <figure><img width="640" height="492" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6659c7e80680e07371bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Phone calls were not that frequent, and the closest shop with a landline was 22km from his house in Tanahun. Miya’s family had to be notified by the shopkeeper via messengers, including drivers of mini-buses or shoppers, about the day and time when they had to come to the shop for the next call.“The calls were very expensive, and I had to make chit-chat with the shopkeeper to return the favour,” says Miya, adding that a call usually meant there was some kind of emergency. Finally, Miya was able to send home a mobile phone in 2007, after which they could call more often.“Look how times have changed,” he says, “it is more expensive to send letters now than to make video calls.”*** <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6689c7e80680e07371cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tilu Sharma, who also spent 16 years in Qatar used to send detailed instructions to his family about how to call someone from his labour camp who had a mobile.“We dreaded calls. For me and other Nepalis in the camp, we knew that if there was a call from home, it usually meant bad news.” <figure><img width="610" height="368" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66a9c7e80680e07371djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tilu did not write too many letters home, but when he did, he made sure he sent regards and remembrances to  everyone in the community, without leaving anyone out. He also knew that the letter would be read and re-read aloud many times, so it was a public document and had to be simple and legible.“You didn’t just write to your parents and siblings, the letter had to include your neighbors and extended family out of respect,” recalls Tilu, who used to send letters with other Nepalis going home.*** <img width="593" height="1024" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66c9c7e80680e07371ejpeg.jpg" alt="">Om Thapa was in the UAE from 2001-2005 and Saudi Arabia from 2007-2016 and received the first photos of his newborn daughter by mail in the UAE. “I only got to see her for the first time when she was three. I missed a lot of her early years growing up,” says Om.Om still remembers the rush of excitement when a colleague used to walk in with a pile of envelopes, and call out the names of recipients. “There is nothing like the depth of words and emotion exchanged via letters with my wife in those days, they felt like actual conversations,” he remembers.When his second child was born, Om was working in Saudi Arabia. But by this time there was social media, so he felt more connected because of Facebook.Pictured left, Om Thapa in the UAE in 2001.*** <figure><img width="2212" height="1638" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba66f9c7e80680e07371fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bishnu, a seasoned migrant has worked in Malaysia for the past 20 years, and seen the Nepali migrant population grow rapidly since then. He remembers how the Kuala Lumpur neighbourhood of Kotaraya evolved to be ‘Little Nepal’ because Nepalis hung out there on their days off to meet in Nepali restaurants.  “Before Facebook and phones, this is where we came hoping to meet friends and exchange news from home. We received or sent letters home through acquaintances. It was also a spot to find out if there are newcomers from our villages which was always very exciting,” Bishnu remembers. “Now we have all the news from home and information about Nepal through social media.”But Bishnu misses the old days: “There was beauty in the simplicity and longing in receiving hand-written letters, meeting someone unexpectedly from your village, or the monthly phone calls that we eagerly waited for.”

Upasana Khadka

From letters to landlines, phones to Facebook

<img width="1400" height="875" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22fa9c7e80680e0417bfjpeg.jpg" alt=""/>The aptly titled movie <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7668870/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Searching </a>is a film for our times. In an era where youngsters haven’t touched a physical newspaper for the past five years, when they spend more time on the mobile monitor than looking at the real world. Searching plays out almost entirely on-screen with a nearly all-Asian cast, and most of the script is not voiced dialogue but through apps like Facetime and Skype, Google searches, Instagram and Facebook posts. When David Kim (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0158626/?ref_=tt_ov_st_sm" target="_blank" rel="noopener">John Cho</a>) realises his quiet, studious teenage daughter Margot <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm8045046/?ref_=nmbio_bio_nm" target="_blank" rel="noopener">(Michelle La</a>) is missing, he starts a search for her. He files a police report, but starts a search of his own, going through her contact records and chats on their shared computer. Telling you whether or not David finds the culprit and saves his daughter would be a spoiler, but suffice to say that the ending is unexpected and dramatic, as every good mystery should be. The movie has also received praise for its Asian-American cast, the first time they have headlined a Hollywood thriller. But much more than all these factors, it is the contemporary storytelling style that makes Searching stand out. The movie goes virtual right from the start: the opening scene is of a computer logging in. Calendar entries and reminders tell us how Margot is doing at school, and also how her mother’s health is progressing. When Margot creates, postpones, and finally deletes the entry ‘Mom comes home’, we realise the tragedy, but without an accompanying melodrama. If this sounds a little impersonal, that is what the world has become as the lines between online and offline get blurred.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ro9ebQxEOYDavid does not recognise the daughter he knows in her online persona with her intimacies and random people she chats with. This and other paradoxes ring true to our experiences of how social media exaggerates and distorts our perceptions. As the search progresses, sensational lists appear on gossip websites, including ‘21 reasons why David could have killed his daughter’, and an unflattering photo of David soon makes the rounds, labeled ‘Father of the Year’ – indicating the trolling phenomenon. Teens who were never particularly close to Margot post teary videos claiming to be her best friend, to thunderous (virtual) applause.Directed by one-time Google filmmaker <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3792134/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Aneesh Chaganty</a>, the movie gets all its technology tones right, from the ubiquitous sounds of computers opening and ring tones of various communication apps, to David not knowing the new age social media like tumblr (he googles ‘tumbler’). Technology-based movies are not new in Hollywood, nor is the sci-fi genre. But Searching is part of a new generation of movies where the technology showcased is real, but its content is virtual. Sci-fi is not about aliens or futuristic worlds any more. In 2013, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1798709/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Her </a>featured Scarlett Johansson’s voice as an alluring artificial intelligence assistant that the protagonist falls in love with. In 2016, we saw <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3713166/?ref_=nv_sr_2" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Unfriended</a>, where a ghost haunts online chats. Since 2011, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2085059/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Black Mirror</a> has been projecting how the technologies we know could grow to control our lives, in an eerily familiar manner. Searching is part of this genre, where sci-fi is not about unrealistic fantasies but about how the technology we live with is changing the way we live and process information. And it is all the more scary because it is true.Searching is not just for youngsters and techno buffs. And if it does not make it to Nepali screens, readers of this review can always search and find it online!

Searching

At the stroke of the midnight hour, it finally came to something everyone in Nepal’s oldest and biggest party had been dreading — a split.
Not that this was anything new. The Nepali Congress (NC) had splintered twice before and the main protagonist both times was five-time prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba. After the GenZ uprising and being physically mauled and his house looted and set on fire on 9 September Deuba had said he was stepping aside, but it seems old ambitions die hard.
The showdown between the Gagan Thapa-Bishow Prakash Sharma camp and Deuba came to a head on Wednesday as the establishment leadership decided to suspend Thapa, Sharma, and Farmullah Mansoor for five years to punish them for daring to challenge the leadership and hold a special general convention.&nbsp;
Bhrikuti Mandap in the centre of Kathmandu is the venue for trade exhibitions, but this week it was where an exhibition of everything that is wrong with Nepali politics was on full display — lack of internal party democracy and an unaccountable gerontocracy clinging on to power.&nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma had gathered the support of 62% of the NC membership at their convention and chose Gagan Thapa as the new party leader and proposed him as a prime ministerial candidate after the 5 March election.
Deuba’s allies had refused to attend or endorse the special general convention, and were adamant about holding a general convention to choose a new party head after the election. Thapa, Sharma and their supporters argued that the party faced ignominious defeat in the polls if Deuba insisted on being prime minister again.
The events of September 2025 have cast a long shadow over Nepali politics, with many new parties and alliances pledging to represent the aspirations of the GenZ movement. However, that realisation does not seem to have dawned on the tried, tested and failed leadership of the NC, UML and the NCP where the party leaders have held on to power by sidelining all rivals. &nbsp;
Thapa and Sharma were NC general secretaries held multiple rounds of discussions to convince Deuba to accept their eight-point demand that for the party’s and the country’s sake his time was up, and he should cut and cut cleanly. Despite having already handed over the party leadership to Purna Bahadur Khadka in September, Deuba refused to step down.&nbsp;
‘What demands has the Nepali Congress been unable to reconcile that it is headed for a split? There is no ideological dispute, just a proposal to make it easier to go for the election,’ noted journalist and author Narayan Wagle. ‘If those who have been in politics for so many years cannot reach an agreement, what have they learned in life and what hope is there for the country?’
Gagan Thapa was elected unopposed as the new party president on Thursday midnight, with Sharma and Pushpa Bhusal appointed vice-presidents. Thapa has said backroom talks are still ongoing though mediators, but for all intents and purposes the split seems irreconcilable.&nbsp;
The million dollar question now is: who gets to be the real Nepali Congress? Who gets the NC’s tree election symbol at the polls?
Both the Thapa and Deuba factions have written to the Election Commission (EC) laying claim to the party and its symbol. Whatever the EC decides, with less than two months to go for the polls, the dispute over its legitimacy will almost certainly have to be decided in the courts.
Deuba and his counterpart K P Oli in the UML have been unwilling or unable to fathom the level of outrage that young Nepalis feel about their parties. They have shown an inability to heed the call for institutional overhaul within parties and in Nepal’s political culture post-September. Second generation leaders within those parties who have grown old waiting for reform, seem to have better internalised the need for internal restructuring.&nbsp;
Oli has managed to hold on to power after displaying increasing authoritarianism within his UML, while Deuba has shown an unwillingness to bow out of leadership with grace. Both have squandered away their legacy.
For Gagan Thapa, the events of Thursday was a culmination of his long-standing claim for leadership change within the NC coupled with a compulsion to address the demands of the youth movement to maximise gains for his party this election. Just like Deuba, Thapa’s house was also looted and torched during the September protests.
Thapa told Onlinekhabar on Thursday: “Our belief was that we cannot go into elections under the present circumstances under [Sher Bahadur Deuba’s] leadership and with him as the party’s prime ministerial candidate. We would lose.”
The special general convention has taken further steps for reform, endorsing amendments to the party statue, which has set term limits for key leadership positions, including a one-term limit for party president, two-term limit for prime minister, three for a ministerial position, and four terms for a directly elected member of Parliament. Meanwhile, party members are only allowed to become lawmakers through the Proportional Representation system for one term.&nbsp;
If Thapa’s leadership holds legitimacy, this new chapter for the NC might come as a welcome change to young Nepalis who have been calling for leadership overhaul and internal party reforms within the establishment parties. But it may also come at the cost of the NC’s core base. It remains to be seen which side tips the scale at the polls.&nbsp;
The NC’s infighting and institutional shake-up has also posed fresh concerns about how it will affect the election schedule just as it looked as though all the mainstream political parties were finally on board and preparing for the polls. With voting barely weeks away, Nepal’s political parties are still too busy cleaning up their own house to give too much time to work on their platforms, agendas and serious campaigning
Historically, political break-ups and make-ups in Nepal are not set in stone. Even the newest alliance between Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP and Kulman Ghising’s UNP did not even last 12 days. &nbsp;Balen Shah is set to resign from his mayor position in the next and has gotten into the thick of election preparation with the RSP. His next step will be to choose which constituency he is going to contest from.
Meanwhile, in the light of a new day, the two NC factions may still decide that breaking up is hard to do when they are so close to elections, and the political stakes are so high.&nbsp;

Grand split in Nepal’s grand old party

Only a handful of people who witnessed the 1934 megaquake as children are still alive. And the memories of 2015 are fading fast.&nbsp;
We were shaken, but have not stirred into action. We have not even started preparing to be prepared for the inevitable, for it is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’.&nbsp;
Thursday 15 January was National Earthquake Safety Day commemorating the 1934 disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu Valley at a time when its population was barely 100,000.
Nepal is in an active seismic zone, and a really big one is overdue in the seismic gap in western Nepal where there has not been a megaquake for 500 years. The 7.8M quake in 2015 did not completely release the tectonic stress below Central Nepal.
An 8M+ earthquake epicentred in western Nepal will be even more violent than the 2015 one in Kathmandu and will be powerful enough to cause destruction across northern India as well.&nbsp;
We Nepalis are resilient, but we are also complacent and fatalistic. How else does one explain the unsafe and unplanned building construction in Kathmandu, Pokhara and other towns despite frequent reminders of what quakes can do?&nbsp;
Most designs are ad hoc and follow no engineering logic. Reinforced Cement Concrete (RCC) is now widespread across the country since such structures mostly withstood the 2015 event. But structural engineers say most concrete buildings are substandard, and can be death traps. Also, the country lacks equipment and training for search and rescue in cement houses.&nbsp;
FIRE HAZARD
If an earthquake struck Kathmandu on a windy winter evening, there is the added risk of fires from gas cylinders in collapsed buildings spreading across the densely packed city core. Fire trucks will not be able to reach those areas because the streets will be blocked.
Seismic risk is now amplified by climate breakdown. Nepal now needs to factor in the co-hazard of massive avalanches and Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) triggered by future earthquakes. There are 41 potentially dangerous glacial lakes in the region, and 27 of them are in Tibet feeding rivers that flow into Nepal. A megaquake there could cause multiple simultaneous GLOFs.&nbsp;
If the 2015 earthquake had not happened on a Saturday, tens of thousands of children could have been killed in the 7,000 schools that were flattened. More than 2,500 government buildings came down, and would have killed and trapped many if it had not been a weekend.
Schools and health facilities retrofitted before the disaster were unscathed, and served as shelters for survivors. Chhatrapati Free Clinic (CFC) was reinforced three years before the earthquake for Rs5.2 million, and with support from National Society of Earthquake Technology (NSET), 800 community members were trained in search and rescue.
Bhuwaneswori Secondary School in Bhaktapur and Bal Bikas Secondary School in Kathmandu both survived 2015 because they had been retrofitted. Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court and the Department of Roads buildings were also made seismic resistant after 2015 quake, but the arson attacks on 9 September gutted them.
While many private residential homes built after 2015 continue to flout building codes, municipalities are now stricter. New schools and colleges, hospitals and high rises now have to meet stringent requirements for seismic resistance.
Nepal is a hotspot for many types of disasters — earthquakes, floods, droughts, glacial outbursts, wildfires. These are not ‘natural’ disasters, they are human induced. Earthquakes do not kill people, poorly-built buildings do. Climate breakdown is anthropogenic.&nbsp;
Waiting for a disaster to strike means we have waited too long. Search and rescue readiness are well and good, but much more important is preparedness — seismic resistance structures especially of public buildings, strict zoning to establish open spaces, pre-positioning supplies and simulated drills.
We do not know how much time we have before the next one. But it is not too late to start preparing. &nbsp;
Sonia Awale

Shaken, but not stirred

The India Art Fair (IAF) advertises itself as ‘the biggest event in India’s cultural calendar … a leading platform’ for art collectors who can discover modern and contemporary art from South Asia.&nbsp; For this year’s ticketed event on 5-8 February in New Delhi, more than 133 exhibitors from 14 countries will be representing top artists from their networks. Danfe Arts, a touring art space from Kathmandu, will participate in the Galleries Section of IAF’s 17th edition featuring a booth with works by six Nepali artists.&nbsp; One of them is Sanjeep Maharjan, Assistant Professor for Sculpture at Kathmandu University, who will showcase his claywork as part of Danfe Arts’ entourage. In 2024, Maharjan curated a show for Danfe Arts at Takpa Gallery titled, ‘Unfolding the City’. The IAF prefers to showcase skilled artists who have honed their practice over many years. Much like various biennales and residencies that have been popping up increasingly in Asia, the Fair delves into sociopolitical issues of the region such as many comissioned works including <a href="https://indiaartfair.in/exhibitor/yogesh-barve-supported-by-art-charlie" target="_blank">Yogesh Barve</a>’s installation entitled ‘I am not your Dalit’ featured at the feastival last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260115110136_13f262546fca46c0fe4d76f758a694afe7c0c1cfee5bf74eb4f257f78734f8f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="989" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali artists at India Art Fair"> <figcaption>Anil Shahi's Hand of Hope, Oil on Canvas, 36 x 60 inches. Exhibiting work at IAF.</figcaption> </figure>  As the name implies, it is a grand bazaar where artists and their agents show up, to be seen — a powerful regional platform where creativity merges with commercial interests. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Artists have a reputation for being weak at business.&nbsp; And in Kathmandu, where the contemporary art scene has been steadily expanding since the early aughts, more and more creatives are seeking platforms like IAF and collaborators like Danfe Arts in order to boost their portfolios. A NEW COURSE In 2022, I was invited to participate in a formal group discussion by founder of and curator at Danfe Arts Shivangi Bansal who was preparing to chart a new course with her Danfe Journal. The journal included photos of artworks as well as writings about art and helped bridge the gap between art and the Nepali public’s understanding of associated processes. Contemporary art and literature is considered a niche activity. Proper marketing and outreach is required to make the product accessible to the average consumer. Besides, consistency can also be an issue. Too often, energetic graduates might register organisations and launch initiatives only to burn out within a year or so. Nepali society would benefit more from a sustained effort with a long-term vision rather than trendy initiatives that look bright and shiny. Danfe Arts discontinued the journal but continued to engage with Nepal’s art community, like facilitating a commission for Mini Tamang by the India Art Fair (IAF) in 2025, as part of IAF’s Young Collector’s Program. Tamang’s artwork, ‘Evocative Waves’, was installed at New Delhi’s Stir Art gallery last year. In 2024, Danfe Arts had organised a group exhibition called ‘A Lake That Once Was’ in New Delhi’s Bikaner House to coincide with the India Art Fair, which listed the exhibition as part of its parallel programs. This meant the Nepali artists received more visibility and value among IAF’s much larger audience.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026011804014_2a15d57a63c375503965a41396b22c006152368a018450d2617f4c8c076ccc74" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> <figcaption>A Lake That Once Was, 2024 at Bikaner House, Delhi.</figcaption> </figure>  Since its inception, Danfe Arts has put out an eclectic mix of programs, demonstrating innovative thinking and effort. With its multi-platform approach, Danfe Arts has collaborated with restaurants like Mezze, putting up an exhibition in November 2025, ‘Bhoye - The Feast’. Danfe Arts is also cultivating relationships with specific artists based on synergies and sensibilities.&nbsp; The history of art practice in Nepal is long and illustrious, but due to political and geographical constraints, esteemed artists have been sheltered and confined within our national borders.&nbsp; By featuring these six artists for the 2026 edition of IAF, Danfe Arts is helping them make regional connections. And as our artists and gallerists show up on global platforms, they might in turn compel Nepalis to view more critically the value of art and how creative practices can contribute positively to society. As technology takes over and AI bots spam the Internet, the issue of originality might become tantamount to survival. We should take risks in our professional pursuits in order to design new communal models of exchange. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; India Art Fair New Delhi 5-8 February&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026011804014_f226a31af8a33f8da5e7359886289de3fd1b2db17697b96b909404e582d75124" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1875" loading="lazy" alt="arts"> </figure>

Nepali artists at India Art Fair

The series <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/looking-good-by-doing-good">Nepal Made</a> profiles world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. Deepak Acharya was born and raised in Simara, before his uncle took him to Pokhara when he was only in sixth grade. After class, he helped sell jackets and outdoor gear at his uncle's Lakeside store. &nbsp; Twenty-two years later, &nbsp;Acharya is still selling jackets. Not international brands like he used to, but products of his own outdoor gear company, DOLPO.&nbsp; Acharya and his brother-in-law, Krishna Ammai, started making and selling jackets and gear for international companies out of Thamel. After losing his business partner in the 2015 earthquake, he was done selling imported items. He launched his own line of outerwear, named after Nepal’s rugged and remote district, known for its stunning arid landscape. The careful selection of the name DOLPO paid off. It took off, providing a high-quality, affordable Nepal-made alternative to foreign companies.&nbsp; “A lot of work went into choosing the name Dolpo,” says Acharya, who considered what came into people’s minds when they heard the name of a place with double-O sound. “I wanted a brand that local customers would instantly relate to toughness and mountains.” The elegant logo reflects this as well, made up of two overlapping rounded triangles denoting mountains with a third peak in the middle. Underneath is ‘DOLPO’ in upper case sans serif.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260116120148_968d9354094049265372d851d0e44e16ae4fc86b5631481e365e6e977f13d37d" data-rendition-name="original" width="854" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Dolpo NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DOLPO</figcaption> </figure>  RIGHT QUALITY, RIGHT PRICE “Our philosophy is Right quality, Right price,” says co-founder Deepak Acharya, adding with a smile that the pricing strategy of a particular competitor has made business easy: “The employees at North Face may sell North Face, but they wear Dolpo.” The rebranding was so successful that Acharya regrets not launching it sooner. The reason for the success is that the outdoor gear market in Nepal has taken off with more and more domestic tourists trekking in the high mountains to share their adventures on social media.&nbsp; Nepalis seem to be consciously choosing sustainable, Nepal made products of international quality. Acharya says: “Of course, there will always be a demographic that only wears North Face, or Sonam. But we have the right design, right price philosophy.”&nbsp; DOLPO uses fabric and material mainly from Japan, and adheres to strict quality control. The reversible down jackets, windcheaters, shorts, fleece-lined pants, trekking trousers, backpacks, and polo shirts can be bought through its website, or two exclusive flagship stores in Sorakhutte and Thamel Chok. “After the rebrand, we slowly made a digital platform, marketed online, and worked with a delivery company to get items directly to buyers,” says Acharya. “We have no brokers or middlemen to keep prices low for the consumer.” DOLPO is a family business with Acharya’s mother and sister also involved, and nephew Nishant Ammai driving digital sales. Acharya points out that there is a lot of business opportunity in Nepal, as there are too many low-quality products being sold at too high a price. &nbsp;“The market is begging for an auto-correction,” he says. For Nepal’s pessimistic youth who are fleeing the country, Acharya urges patience: “The younger generation wants shortcuts. The mindset is to set up a venture and in three years they will be set for life. But this is not how success works.” “Choose a field, put in ten years of effort, really learn about it, and then you will see the vast possibility present in Nepal,” he continues.&nbsp; Last month, the DOLPO logo was seen on the jerseys of the Biratnagar Kings in NPL 2. The company made hats, jackets, and jerseys for star-studded cricket players including Lokesh Bam, Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf Du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. The Kings finished second in the group, and although Acharya is a football fan, he is happy to contribute to the rise of cricket in Nepal. &nbsp;&nbsp;