The Nepal government is all set to launch a Rs25 billion project to build a dam inside Shivapuri National Park to flush the Bagmati, wash away its waste and stanch its stench as it flows through Kathmandu. However, critics say it is an extravagant undertaking that carries financial, seismic and environmental risks, and that the Bagmati can be more effectively cleaned with a sewage network, water treatment plant and better <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/where-to-take-a-dump">urban solid waste management</a>. &nbsp; The Department of Water Resources and Irrigation is planning to build the 95m high dam on the Nagmati stream to also augment Kathmandu Valley’s drinking water supply and generate some electricity. The scheme is an extension of a project funded by the Asian Development Bank (ADB).&nbsp; Engineer Nishchal Chhatkuli of the ADB-supported <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-gets-first-pump-track">Bagmati River Basin Improvement Project </a>says the environmental impact assessment is awaiting approval and clearing trees and construction of an access road will begin soon. The project is expected to be completed by 2032 by when the reservoir will be capable of storing 9.4 billion litres of monsoon runoff and releasing 450 l/s into the Bagmati River as it starts to flow through Kathmandu 18km downstream.&nbsp; The primary purpose of the dam is said to be to flush out the polluted Bagmati River, although some of the water will also be added to the mains connected to the Melamchi tunnel, as well as generate 1.86MW of electricity.&nbsp; The Project started in 2013 to improve Kathmandu’s river system under which another 24m high dam has already been built at Dhap, upstream from the proposed dam.&nbsp; But the Dhap reservoir was deemed to have insufficient storage to flush the Bagmati all year round, and the ADB supported a detailed feasibility study completed by an Australian company in 2017 that endorsed a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-creeps-up-surrounding-mountains"> higher dam downstream </a>near Mulkharka, 3km above the confluence of the Nagmati and Bagmati.&nbsp; “Since water cannot be brought from elsewhere, stored rainwater drained from this lake is the only way to deliver it to Bagmati during winter and take the river back to how it was three decades ago,” Chhatkuli explains.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024020301024_c7f7c1a0165e10d96afa0244389de367da0c24c99b5e864a9a275e455ecf20cc.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024020301024_c7f7c1a0165e10d96afa0244389de367da0c24c99b5e864a9a275e455ecf20cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="761" height="403" loading="lazy" alt="Nagmati NT"> <figcaption>Shivapuri-Nagarjun National Park showing Dhap Dam and the proposed Nagmati Reservoir.</figcaption> </figure>  The dam construction itself will cost Rs19 billion, and additional money will be spent on protecting the watershed, construction of the power house, drinking water use and building tourism facilities. &nbsp; Although the Nagmati project’s stated aim is to protect the river basin, critics say it will come at significant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/development-destruction-yt3t1yhu?amp=1">ecological cost</a> to the national park. The environment impact assessment itself says more than 80,000 trees will have to be cut, and the access road will add to human disturbance in the wilderness area.&nbsp; ‘Permanent effects of the project include loss of local biodiversity, destruction of wildlife habitat, and construction activities that will alter local topography, increase soil erosion, and increase turbidity in the river,’ the report states.&nbsp; Nature activist Shrawan Sharma argues that impounding a reservoir of this size will harm the already fragile ecosystem of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/frozen-shivapuri">Shivapuri- Nagarjun National Park</a> and the Bagmati watershed.&nbsp; The current government policy is to replace every tree cut with 10 saplings, which would mean that 800,000 saplings would need to be planted. But there is no land area for so many trees in Shivapuri. D P Jaisi, an engineer formerly with the Department of Irrigation says the construction of a big dam in an area with high seismic risk directly upstream from a densely populated city is a bad idea. Climate change adds to the risk.&nbsp; “Large infrastructure projects need to be future-proofed to withstand major disasters, but such structures are always a risk,” says Jaisi. “If the Nagmati Dam were to collapse, it would be catastrophic for Kathmandu.” The project’s detailed report does look at a potential dam collapse, and shows that 3.47 million litres per second would rush down to Kathmandu, reaching Sundarijal in 15 minutes and Pashupati within 90 minutes. “The debris flow in the event of a Nagmati Dam collapse will affect 500,000 people all the way down to Chobhar and even change the course of the Bagmati as it flows through Kathmandu,” Jaisi warns. Water resources professor at Pulchok Engineering Campus Hari Pandit says the damage would be large-scale and long-lasting. “We simply cannot rely on dam design in a country like ours with its weak governance and weak construction,” he adds. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024020301024_b34372ab9e8091db5abbd59d604d01b5a3bc566616e3951b3fb0f77db895ec93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024020301024_b34372ab9e8091db5abbd59d604d01b5a3bc566616e3951b3fb0f77db895ec93" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="3333" loading="lazy" alt="Nagmati NT"> <figcaption>The Nagmati inside the national park near the proposed dam site is a boulder-strewn stream. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption> </figure>  Project officials like Chhatkuli say all this is scare-mongering and there is no reason to be alarmed because the dam is designed with the worst-case scenario for seismic and cloudburst risk in mind. But critics are not assuaged, especially considering the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-monsoon-mess-in-melamchi">disaster that struck the Melamchi water supply scheme</a> in 2021, Nepal’s biggest infrastructure project so far. An investigation showed that Melamchi headworks and tunnels did not take into account clear and present danger from climate change in the river's headwaters. Hydraulic structures expert Ravi Rajbhandari with Cemat Consultants says the dam, which will have concrete slabs on one side and rock-fill on the other, will be "like a sword hanging over Kathmandu’s head". He says we should learn lessons from last year’s catastrophic dam breaches in Libya and Sikkim. Experts also question why the Department of Irrigation is involved when the project has nothing to do with agriculture, and when the Rs25 billion lavished on another big project in Kathmandu could have been spent to irrigate rain-fed farms in rural areas and increase harvests.&nbsp; Some experts say the Nagmati project will mire Nepal in another <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/soaring-debt">debt trap</a>. The country’s public debt has reached Rs2.38 trillion and now accounts for more than 44% of the country’s GDP. Pouring money into a low-return project like Nagmati will push generations of Nepalis into indebtedness. Ravi Rajbhandari and Hari Pandit also doubt whether water released from the dam will actually make the Bagmati cleaner if sewage and garbage continue to be dumped into the river. The money could have been spent on extending the Melamchi tunnel to Larke and Yangri to increase water volume. But the project’s Nishchal Chhatkuli argues that the return on investment from the Nagmati Dam should not be measured only from an economic standpoint. “The price that locals have had to pay for living and being in proximity to the polluted Bagmati is incalculable,” he says. “The advantage of a cleaner Bagmati goes beyond purely financial benefit.”

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Dam dangerous

Nepal’s public debt quadrupled in the last eight years, growing from Rs540 billion after the earthquake in 2015 to Rs2.38 trillion this month, half of it external debt. It now makes up over 44% of the country’s GDP.&nbsp;
The revenue growth rate fell in the last fiscal year, reducing capacity to cover expenditure. The government is attempting to compensate by borrowing from within and outside the country. 
Officials have attributed <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/till-debt-do-us-part">Nepal’s debt load</a> to post-earthquake reconstruction, a bloated federal machinery, and the pandemic.
This year, the government earmarked Rs330 billion to pay back domestic and external loans and interest, which is more than 18% of the budget. Another Rs302 billion is for capital expenditure.
Nepal has reached a point where it is now borrowing more money to pay back its debt. Of the Rs162 billion borrowed internally and externally since last July, Rs116 billion was spent on loan repayment.&nbsp;
While Nepal’s debt burden is still significantly less than India or Japan, for instance, the difference is that debt-financed projects in Nepal have not yielded tangible returns. &nbsp;
The $120 million Prime Minister's Employment Program funded by the World Bank was declared ‘unproductive’ by the Auditor General. The Bank itself found that funds had been misused in the Project for Agriculture Commercialisation and Trade (PACT). The Rs1.5 billion Chobhar Dry Port is in limbo. &nbsp;
Agriculture imports continue to grow despite loans from the World Bank and the IFAD. The Rs22 billion Pokhara International Airport funded by China’s Exim Bank, and Bhairawa Airport built with an ADB loan have no international flights. &nbsp;
Another ADB scheme, the Melamchi Water Supply Project cost more than Rs35 billion, but supply is still cut after a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">flood</a> destroyed its headworks in 2021. The proposed Rs25 billion dam on the Nagmati also financed by the ADB has been called extravagant and risky by critics.
“Loans are currently being wasted on unproductive projects,” says economist Nara Bahadur Thapa. “As debt increases, the government's spending on citizens decreases, leading to more public disillusionment.”&nbsp;
<div class="embed-block"><iframe title="Debt Trap" aria-label="Interactive line chart" id="datawrapper-chart-4LFcO" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/4LFcO/1/" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" style="border: none;" width="600" height="400" data-external="1"></iframe></div>
Nepal’s governments have not just poured borrowed money into high-risk, low-reward projects, but unnecessary ones like view towers, city halls and minister’s villas.
&nbsp;Meanwhile, health, education, agriculture, drinking water, and roads remain in a state of permanent neglect.&nbsp;
“Nepalis are not aware of the country’s debt burden, but are concerned about the government’s mishandling and wastage of loans,” says former Finance Ministry Secretary Rameshore Khanal.
The debt burden reduces the government’s ability to spend on development, and passes on the debt to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">future generations</a>. “Domestic debt is similar to a tax that we are forcing on our grandchildren,” says Khanal.
Some economists say a debt of up to 50% of GDP is normal for a country like Nepal. Finance Ministry spokesperson Dhani Ram Sharma says most foreign loans are low-interest and subsidised, but concedes that the government has wasted funds on projects that did not guarantee returns.
“The ministry has become more sensitive to risks associated with securing internal as well as foreign loans without designating the funds to a particular project and ensuring maximum returns,” says Sharma.&nbsp;
Economist Biswo Poudel says that although Nepal’s public debt is not yet unmanageable, planners must exercise caution while borrowing, control wasteful expenses and take initiatives to increase revenue and prevent <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/fueling-nepal-s-economic-crisis">revenue leakage</a>.&nbsp;
Poudel says the priority should be a debt cap, more care should be given to what loans are for, not to borrow indiscriminately and be profligate. &nbsp;&nbsp;
“If the debt continues to grow without increase in revenue, the economy will be unsustainable,” he adds, “it will be like a Ponzi scheme where we take new loans to pay off old ones.” &nbsp;

Soaring Debt

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

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>

The war between people

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.

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Kangchenjunga in winter