Denizens of Kathmandu need to know that there is a wilderness area of super rich biodiversity just a 30-minute drive from the Ring Road. The 2,750m high Pulchoki is the highest point on the Valley rim, and a favourite picnic spot for the citizens of Kathmandu. Every weekend and on holidays hundreds of noisy picnickers flood the forest of Pulchoki in Godavari, and the blaring music and shouting scares the animals away. They also leave piles of trash. Unlike national parks like Shivapuri or Chitwan, Pulchoki is not guarded by the army. Yet its forests have been largely protected because of its steep slopes and community forestry groups lower down. And despite the destruction of trees by charcoal burners in the past, Pulchoki still shelters a wide variety of interesting mammals, rodents and reptiles. Though these denizens are not as large or outstanding as their relatives in national parks, they are still fascinating for wildlife spotters. The slopes are steep, some rocky cliffs, thickets, ravines, all cloaked in a cloud forest of oak and rhododendron covered in orchids and lichen and an undergrowth thick with ferns. This makes it nearly impossible to see the animals, which is why any fleeting glimpse is so rewarding. The motorable road that meanders to the telecommunication tower at the summit is convenient for walking along, but that is not where the wildlife are. It is a matter of being at the right place, so the wildlife goes unnoticed as a result. But they are all there in the green shadows. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-dragonflies-to-save-pokhara">Saving Dragonflies to save Pokhara</a>, Durga Rana Magar <h2>Friends of the Forest</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023082519088_5a2a1b7707abd0f0b6883ae5fbbff843e502fb37440015629cc6c9c57ec4f1e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023082519088_5a2a1b7707abd0f0b6883ae5fbbff843e502fb37440015629cc6c9c57ec4f1e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Where wild things are"> <figcaption>Barking Deer</figcaption> </figure>  I have been fortunate over the years to spot some of these friends of our forest, and here they are:&nbsp; If you hear a dog-like bark in the middle of Pulchoki forest (regardless of the hours), it is a harmless Barking Deer (Muntiacus muntjac) that is voicing an alarm. This small deer is very shy and is more often heard than seen. The only species of the deer family in this forest, it frequents wild bamboo thickets (Arundinaria sp.), especially when they sprout young shoots with the pre-monsoon rains. It travels along ravines and steep slopes, an instinctive precaution in avoiding danger from its predator, the only large resident carnivore (aside from human poachers), the Hill Leopard (Panthera pardus). Its grating raspy call during the mating season (generally in the summer and winter) often becomes the only indication that a leopard is lurking nearby. They prey on Barking Deer, and will occasionally lift a dog, a goat or a cow. It is only when a female is tutoring her young in the art of a ‘clean kill’ that the action seems irrational. Some years ago, three cows were killed in a single night in a village at the edge of the forest but were not eaten at all. They rarely harm humans, and do not deserve their blood-thirsty reputation. But one that is by definition blood-thirsty is the leech, which erupts from the undergrowth during the monsoon months.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-wild-dogs-also-need-to-be-saved">Nepal’s wild dogs also need to be saved</a>, Maheshwar Acharya  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023082519088_acc609dd49e32e287e27f002275e926d98ecd4e84123e6d7c853e25d214eca52.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023082519088_acc609dd49e32e287e27f002275e926d98ecd4e84123e6d7c853e25d214eca52" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Where wild things are"> <figcaption>Yellow-throated Marten</figcaption> </figure>  The Yellow-throated Marten (Martes flavigula) is slightly larger than a rabbit with a black face, black feet and a long bushy black tail. This animal almost always hunts in pairs, both at night and in the day. This is a smart animal, which can open the hole of a bee hive with its sharp teeth, insert its tail, wriggle it around and pull it out along with angry but tasty bees. It also hunts the Indian Hare (Lepus sp.) and this is where working in pairs yields results as they zigzag to zero in on the quarry. The Marten also raids chicken coops in villages, to kill as many as it can with a clean bite through the head. The nocturnal Gray Himalayan Palm Civet (Paguma larvata) likes cherry-berries of the painu (Prunus sp.) when it ripens in April. The tree is tall, and the animal defecates just before its descent, which it does head first with utmost caution. The Indian Civet (Viverra zibetha) is comical in appearance, looking like a cross between the zebra and the raccoon. It visits the outer fringes of the villages and occasionally falls victim to dogs. It dines on smaller animals and likes to scavenge kitchen waste. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">Between existence and extinction in Nepal</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023082519088_06a62ff5f1173a5da9101d90dca2ff66086a3d53a1f0159724f38270d31a5ad7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023082519088_06a62ff5f1173a5da9101d90dca2ff66086a3d53a1f0159724f38270d31a5ad7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Where wild things are"> <figcaption>Orange-bellied Squirrel</figcaption> </figure>  The Jackal (Canis aureus) hunts chickens, stranded goats, insects and anything that hops, skips, jumps or flies is in its eat-if-you-can-catch menu. Its howls are like a saxophone "Boo-bah, booah, boooha…" and local people believe hearing it is inauspicious. It definitely is eerie, but what makes it even more eerie is the superstitious belief of the local people. The author has heard this call on six different occasions and this belief has come to pass in five of them. The Jungle Cat (Felis chaus) is much larger than the domestic house cat and its coat has a brownish dirty tint. Besides hunting rodents, wild cats have been known to make off with goat kids from the village. The Otter (Lutra sp.) has a plump dark-brown body but very few people have seen this animal colloquially known as “Oat”. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/economic-benefits-of-saving-the-ecology">Economic benefits of saving the ecology</a>, Diya Rijal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023082519088_7b212b019285fadf1e1cb2b0ee7f484235352ec76163da38a308a6017f5d7eb1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023082519088_7b212b019285fadf1e1cb2b0ee7f484235352ec76163da38a308a6017f5d7eb1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Where wild things are"> <figcaption>Mongoose</figcaption> </figure>  The Mongoose (Herpestes sp.) is very cautious and keeps a safe distance from humans but can frequently be seen around settlements. Though this agile creature is noted for its skill in killing snakes, this activity has not been reported by any locals. Young chicken do fall prey. &nbsp;&nbsp; Among the snakes on Pulchoki is the Himalayan Pit Viper (Agkistrodon himalayanas) which is quite common and is most active during the night. Brownish with black patterns on its body makes it easy to spot as a poisonous one but its venom is not usually fatal. The other poisonous snake is the Green Pit Viper (Trimeresurus albolabris ) with striking iridescent green scales that camouflages it well in the foliage while it waits for prey, and is as poisonous as the Pit Viper. The King Cobra is a newcomer, though old texts mention it has been recorded in this area. A male and a female have been sighted on different occasions, both in and around ICIMOD Living Mountain Lab. Hibernation is in holes, under rocks, and sometimes in piles of rotting vegetation (including compost heaps). Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/republic-of-nepal-s-animal-kingdom">Republic of Nepal’s animal kingdom</a>, Sonam Tashi Lama and Janam Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023082519088_12e0513cfd2de58f8e99ecfcf0b1ab4e4ec60673fc69bbf744286a006dfb12fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2023082519088_12e0513cfd2de58f8e99ecfcf0b1ab4e4ec60673fc69bbf744286a006dfb12fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Where wild things are"> <figcaption>Pangolin</figcaption> </figure>  The Himalayan Black Bear (Selenarctos thibetanus) can be dangerous if startled and can charge. There have been no reports of such attacks on Pulchoki, but it is prudent to be cautious. They climb trees to get at the acorns, leaving claw marks on the bark. The rare Pangolin (Manis sp.), the Giant Flying Squirrel (Petaurista petaurista), the Orange-bellied Squirrel (Dremomys lokriah) and the Indian Porcupine (Hystrix indica) are all harmless and have their homes in the forest. The last known Himalayan Tahr (Hemitragus jemlahicus) of Pulchoki was wiped out by poachers some years ago but the Wild Boar (Sus scrofa) has made a successful comeback. Actually, too successful because it has multiplied prolifically and raids farms. Pulchoki is also a birder’s paradise, with 360 of the 890 species of birds found in Nepal spotted here. It is also a refuge for a vast variety of butterflies, dragonflies and other insects. There are very few places in Nepal that have such a rich repository of wildlife in such a small area.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/it-s-a-small-world">It’s a small world</a>, Ajay Narsingh Rana

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Where wild things are

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f2c9c7e80680e0af44fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1802"/><figcaption>Manang. Photo: NABIN LAMICHHANE.</figcaption></figure>Kathmandu Valley and the surrounding areas experienced rains from Tuesday night with moderate snowfall in Chandragiri and Pulchoki in the outskirts.Heavier snow has blanketed the mountainous districts of Dadeldhura, Doti, Baitadi, Bajhang and Darchula, as well as trans-himalayan Dolpo, Manang and Mustang, while vehicular movements in different sections of the Tribhuvan, Bhimdatta and Jayaprithvi highways have been obstructed by snowfall.The Department of Meteorology and Hydrology has predicted rain into Wednesday morning.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f309c7e80680e0af450jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1600"><figcaption>Myagdi. Photo: SONTOSH GAUTAM.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f339c7e80680e0af451jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="854" height="481"><figcaption>Lukla. Photo: RAJENDRA B. SINGH.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f359c7e80680e0af452jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="816" height="612"><figcaption>Bhojpur. Photo: YUVRAJ BISTA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f379c7e80680e0af453jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1353" height="902"><figcaption>Bhaktapur. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f3b9c7e80680e0af454jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1304" height="870"><figcaption>Bhaktapur. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f3e9c7e80680e0af455jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1107"><figcaption>Chandragiri. Photo: ACHYUT REGMI.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f419c7e80680e0af456jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1350"><figcaption>Doti. Photo: BIMAL BAHADUR BISTA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f449c7e80680e0af457jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1350"><figcaption>Doti. Photo: BIMAL BAHADUR BISTA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f479c7e80680e0af458jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="800" height="450"><figcaption>Simkot. Photo: DANE BOHARA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f499c7e80680e0af459jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1350"><figcaption>Humla. Photo: DANE BOHARA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f4d9c7e80680e0af45ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="1834"><figcaption>Jajarkot. Photo: HEMANTA KC.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f509c7e80680e0af45bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="454"><figcaption>Rasuwa. Photo: HIMNATH DEVKOTA.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f539c7e80680e0af45cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2400" height="2112"><figcaption>Jajarkot. Photo: HEMANTA KC.</figcaption></figure>

Nepal lashed by winter rain and snow

The pale green ice on the top of the lake gleams in the pale January sunlight. The dark waters beneath are visible through the translucent frozen surface. This is Thulagi Glacial Lake at the foot of Mt Manaslu in central Nepal, classified as one of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">most dangerous lakes </a>to appear in the Himalaya due to climate heating.&nbsp; The place is breathtaking not just because of its 4,050m altitude, but the scenery all around. The beauty belies the threat this expanding lake poses downstream along the Marsyangdi Valley. &nbsp; The lake lies at the terminus of the 4.5km long Thulagi Glacier. The local Gurung inhabitants call it Dona Tal. They say it started appearing in the 1960s. Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung, 47, has been ferrying trekkers to the spot for about 20 years.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260122100136_a34407fbb58b41554f08d392933ea32360649deaf712e2221686533f81507f58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>MELTING MOUNTAINS: Thulagi Glacial Lake in Manang has been identified among 47 lakes in Nepal at risk of an outburst flood because of climate breakdown. All photos: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260122100136_4d3c25c9b4f6eaff3e538b36346471c301d38338514bfdfa9ee63ccd77d20489" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Yaks graze below Thulagi Himal (7,059m) and Mt Manaslu (8,163m) along the Dona Khola that drains the lake.</figcaption> </figure>  “Dona used to be small, but it has now grown bigger,” he says, gesturing to how the glacier has receded and shrunk. Trekkers used to be able to go to the other side, but now the glacier is riddled with ponds and boulders falling off the moraine that make it dangerous.&nbsp; Gurung adds rather matter-of-factly: “The lake will burst sooner or later.”&nbsp; Kathmandu-based International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) has been studying Thulagi for the past two decades. Topographic maps from the 1960s and early satellite images show the lake being much smaller.&nbsp; When the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-resource-curse">Marsyangdi Hydropower Project</a> project was being built in 1994, the German Institute of Geology and Natural Resources with the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology measured the lake to be already 2km in length. More recent surveys show the lake has increased its size since then to more than 1 sq km. &nbsp; The lake is among 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya">dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal and Tibet </a>&nbsp;identified by ICIMOD in 2020 due to its size, the risk of landslides and avalanches, and the gradual collapse of the lake’s ice-core moraine dam.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260122100136_9b9fea3665494614c2d89e4202c735fd642a13552d67ca2be3da5c390320ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Local guide Chandra Bahadur Gurung has been taking trekkers up to Thulagi Lake for 20 years.</figcaption> </figure>  In 2018 a team of glaciologists led by Umesh K Haritasya <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/10/5/798">published a journal article</a> about the evolution of three glacial lakes including Thulagi, Lower Barun, and Imja. Even back in 1976, Thulagi was twice the size of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/Diverting-danger,3172">Imja glacial lake</a> in the Khumbu and six times the size of the Lower Barun. The team measured the lake’s depth at 79m, and calculated that it held 36.1 million m3 of water. Since then, Thulagi has been growing at a slower rate than the other two lakes because it is shielded by shadows of mountains. There is also not as much glacial calving in the narrow valley.&nbsp; Nonetheless, scientists and experts have long warned that a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from Thulagi poses a big risk to four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and settlements like Besisahar and Dumre (map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260125130136_eac3ccf38d2f91619825ab977bb21ea3eee84d6e87939721f9a8dbb7f0f22504" data-rendition-name="original" width="2076" height="1444" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi map"> </figure>  The lake feeds into Dona Khola, a tributary of the Marsyangdi where the 49.9MW Dona Khola hydropower project is being built at a cost of Rs10 billion. Another 42MW Super Dona Khola project is planned on the river. “One of the trigger points that could lead to a glacial lake outburst could be the steep lateral moraine, which might be weakened by rapidly melting permafrost,” says Scott Watson, a University of Leeds researcher who was part of the team that conducted the 2018 study. Locals are already witnessing what Watson describes. They say that it was easy to reach Thulagi’s headwaters even until a few years ago, but that is now dangerous because of ice and rockfalls.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260122100136_217a1951a620e8efe11e5936600be172874976a0c04a1031495cf6687ce8f82c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1426" height="1070" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>The 50MW Upper Marsyangdi Hydropower Project station in Lamjung. A Thulagi Lake outburst would damage four hydropower projects on the Marsyangdi and its tributaries.</figcaption> </figure>  GLOF WARNING&nbsp; Glaciologist Rijan Bhakta Kayastha has been studying Thulagi since 1994, and was part of a team that discovered that the lake’s terminal moraine was made up of rocky soil on top and ice at its core.&nbsp; In 2020, Kayastha's team published a study that modelled the route of a possible GLOF. They found that if the lake burst, it would take 2.5 hours to reach Dharapani, and 4 hours to reach Bahundanda 39km downstream. The surge would be 13.7m high at Dharapani and 15m by the time it reached Taal, the village most at risk because it is situated only a few metres above the Marsyangdi. ‘Considering the size of the Thulagi glacial lake and its dam, it seems unlikely that a rock fall or avalanche would cause the lake to breach the moraine dam,” concluded the study. “But an earthquake or climate change would require a separate study. At present, there is no immediate or imminent threat of this glacier bursting.” MEMORIES OF 2021 Across Manang valley, residents are haunted by the memories of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/himalayan-floods-a-sign-of-worse-to-come">2021 flood on the Marsyangdi</a> that swept away parts of Chame, Dharapani, Naso, and Taal villages.&nbsp; Kamarkali Gurung, grew up on the banks of the Marsyangdi in Dharapani, and had never imagined that the tranquil river she knew could become such a monster. She had saved up to build her own three-story property with 17 rooms.&nbsp; Her family was away that June evening when the flood swept away her hotel. “Not even a spoon remained, everything was gone,” says Kamarkali. “Losing the hotel hurt like losing a loved one. The Marsyangdi flows through my house now, I can never go back.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260122100136_925087c286f18a0374f5d2fae5cc528b6e8b5a55e02813e470c49b923b4f193a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>SURVIVORS: Kamarkali Gurung's hotel was swept away by the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi. She now operates her hotel from a rented house in Dharapani.</figcaption> </figure>  Surendra Gurung, also a hotelier, was in Dharapani the night of the flood, and can still remember the fear as the river roared towards the village. “I did not know if I would live or die,” he says.&nbsp; Sirantal village was merely 10m above the Marsyangdi, and was completely destroyed by the flood. Thirty-two people were rescued by army helicopters, and most of the families have now relocated to Taal.&nbsp; One of them is Singha Bahadur Gurung who also ran a lodge for 20 years. “We did not have to buy anything except rice, the soil in Sirantal was so fertile,” he remembers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20260122100136_9da9290e59a6d565ae9cb81a850f725ccd937fd658d0adfabccfe4114ec94bed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Singha Bahadur Gurung operated a lodge in Sirantal before the flood swept it away in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  Marsyangdi now flows through where Singha Gurung’s village used to be. “Ever since the flood, I am terrified every time it rains from June to August,” he says.&nbsp; The 2021 flood was during the monsoon, and was caused by unusually heavy rainfall in the catchment. A GLOF on the Marsyangdi would be much more destructive. Roshni Ghale, 46, runs a hotel in Taal, and escaped with her family to a nearby cave as the flood engulfed nearby homes.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20260122100136_7a6b74a4c33b597e2815b035ec5d56ffea35923016518f0fb35bcc4fc925dccd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Roshni Ghale spent six months after the 2021 flood rebuilding her hotel in Taal. Tourism has steadily picked up in the four years since the flood. </figcaption> </figure>  “We spent the next six months after the flood rebuilding our lives, going to bed hungry many a night,” she recalls. In the four years since, tourism has picked up again, but the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters"> community is still traumatised</a>. In the wake of the floods, the government had begun talks to rehabilitate and repatriate the community, but until now, they have been <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/from-one-disaster-to-the-next">empty promises</a>. In any case, the people here, most of them experienced hoteliers whose livelihood depends on tourism, are unwilling to uproot their lives and start over elsewhere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20260122100136_9a13c863422806eefdcd826ed12f9906e2372bd8f60f83c5351652eccf050384" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="844" loading="lazy" alt="Thulagi glof"> <figcaption>Most of the survivors of the 2021 flood on the Marsyangdi from villages like Sirantal have relocated to the upstream village of Taal, which itself was hit by a monsoon flood in 2021.</figcaption> </figure>  DISASTER PREPAREDNESS Even though studies have assessed the risk of GLOFs in Manang and across Nepal, and warned about the damage that such floods could cause, it took until 2021 for early warning systems to be installed on the banks of the Marsyangdi and in the town of Taal.&nbsp; But beyond that, there has been little preparedness. Early warning systems and disaster preparedness are necessary not just along the Marsyangdi but also at and around Thulagi itself, say experts. Locals here are becoming increasingly aware of the risk posed by the expanding lake up the valley, but are reluctant to leave homes and communities that they have lived in for generations. The hydropower projects on the Dona Khola promises jobs, and the local government is upgrading the hiking trail to Thulagi Lake which has become a tourist attraction. “Manang now gets <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/too-little-snow-too-much-rain">too little snow and too much rain</a>, and the Marsyangdi charts its own course,” says Min Rashi Gurung, chair of Ward-1 of Naso rural municipality, where Thulagi is located. &nbsp; But help may be on the way.Last year, the Green Climate Fund (GCF) approved a $36.1 million grant to help Nepal reduce risk of GLOFs in Thulagi and four other glacial lakes. The project is managed by the government and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). The project is set to begin next fiscal year, and will reduce the water level in the four glacial lakes including Thulagi, similar to what was done in Imja and Tso Rolpa, says Dinkar Kayastha at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. &nbsp; Centre for Investigative Journalism - Nepal

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

This is the 81st episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. I went to Australia in 2008 because everyone was headed there. It was my first time leaving the country and my first job. My college helped me find work as a kitchen helper at a Brisbane restaurant.&nbsp; I did not know that being a kitchen helper meant washing dishes. I was young and did not know how to wash dishes or how to handle the steam, the hot water, and the busy kitchen. The utensils were thrown at the dishwashing station continuously, and water splashed on my face. My shoes and clothes were always wet. It was an on-call job. A couple of days into the job, I was asked to come in when I was at the movies. I refused. They fired me. That was that. I then worked on a farm, picking lemons and oranges. The lemon work was particularly hard because I would get cuts all over my hands. This hustle was not for me.&nbsp; Within a year in Australia, I decided to return to Nepal because the foreign life did not suit me. After spending eight months in Nepal, reality sank in. Nepal was not all that great either. I went back to Australia. On the plane, I befriended a Nepali woman who was homesick and a first time traveler. At the immigration in Australia, the officer noticed my long absence and started interrogating me. He noticed the Nepali woman waiting for me and asked who she was. Without thinking I lied that she was my girlfriend. That seemed to do the trick because he did not want us to be separated. He stamped my passport. She went her way. I went mine.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260127130112_5e7bfa6acc5f94d5f1905537e387c2d4169469679ace2b71de368912f3bd514f" data-rendition-name="original" width="987" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81 NT"> </figure>  In Sydney, I again found a dishwashing job at a fine dining restaurant. A Sri Lankan colleague helped me learn the job. The pace at which I had to do the dishes was insane but I got the hang of it in two weeks. I always dreamt of one day wearing the chef’s white coat. It commanded respect, I could tell. In addition to becoming good at my job washing dishes, I also had good language and networking skills so I built good relationships with colleagues. There was a need for a pizza chef at the restaurant. It was expensive to hire someone new, and they asked me if I was up for the job. I said yes even though I knew nothing about making pizzas. My Italian colleagues coached me and before I knew it, I became better than others at the job. Soon, I realised that I did not just want to make pizzas. Whatever I wanted to learn, I just asked seniors to take me under their wings and I would help without pay. They would agree but still pay me. It wasn’t a strategy per se, I genuinely wanted to learn. At some point, a Japanese sous chef in my restaurant and I had coincidentally applied to the same restaurant, and there, under him, I got to learn even more. Working with a Japanese chef is really difficult, but you learn a lot. He would sometimes even hold my hand with tongs dipped in hot water when I screwed something up. I worked in a few restaurants after this and was earning well. When one of my colleagues, a dishwasher, was let go unfairly, I decided to leave because I did not want to be a quiet bystander to this act. I returned to Nepal immediately after this.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026012719010_f33ba38bb5f86f1d33262fd0d7ccd09ed01f6cc52148ca3d4cd66c434b695730" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="DD 82"> </figure>  I started a restaurant called Ghumti, but it was struggling. The location of the restaurants was not good and it failed. I bought another restaurant in Darbar Marg. I was managing two restaurants when Covid hit. The rent kept piling up, and there was no revenue. I took a huge loss. I gave them up and returned to Chitwan and started making migration plans. I came across a job vacancy for Alba in Qatar by the famous Enrico Crippa. I still remember the heat when I got out of the airport in Doha, it was like entering an oven. Thankfully, I had a Nepali roommate who showed me around and helped me adjust.&nbsp; The hotel was still under construction, but training had started. We worked really hard for the opening and things went well. In 2023, we even won the Best MENA Restaurant award. But at some point in 2024, the international Crippa chain decided to leave.&nbsp; Some colleagues including the head chef left and I suddenly was put in charge. I had some head chef experience from Australia and had previous experience working in high pressure environments, so I stepped up. We had to start from scratch again, this time as Alba in Raffles, Doha.&nbsp; The name of our restaurant comes from the Alba white truffle, which is the best available and is expensive, selling at around 40,000 QAR per kg. We had heard the official announcement that the Michelin was coming to Qatar, and we worked even harder.&nbsp; Michelin inspections are strict, highly secretive and you have no idea you are being investigated. Even then, we were up for the game. We were ‘selected’ which meant we had potential.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026012719010_bab3a904af69603e9e79f333aeea89b035401c0c8d1750930107f3594ff1f565" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="697" loading="lazy" alt="DD 81"> </figure>  I went to the award ceremony with low expectations. But because they announce the name alphabetically, Alba came first. I was very happy and felt validated. Being recognised as a Michelin one star restaurant is a huge achievement for us. My MD reminded me of a promise I had made of getting a Michelin tattoo if we got the award. I guess I will get it done when I come to Nepal next. My plan is to get a tattoo that captures my journey right from the dishwashing days.&nbsp; I have cooked for Obama, Beckham, Kaka, Trump, 50 Cent, Lindsay Lohan, you name it, because our restaurant is visited by high profile guests. At first, I used to feel the pressure. Now I view all guests as the same. The food you make is the same no matter who is eating it. I love the work. In fact, it does not feel like work. The rush in the kitchen, the atmosphere, the heat, the scent, I live for it. When I am not working, I get bored. It is like an addiction without which I get withdrawals. I want to contribute in introducing Nepali cuisine and ingredients in the worldstage. Nepalis overseas have a lot of potential in the hospitality sector. But my advice to youth is to focus on building a strong base and invest in learning. It is increasingly common for Nepalis to job hop for a salary jump. While other skills like language are also important, it is the hard skills that we really need to focus on. In our field of work, it is the plate that needs to speak.

Sky is the limit

During the 2022 election, populist candidates campaigned with algorithms and were elected mayors. In 2026, they are campaigning with AI-generated memes and videos. Four years ago, the idea that the most potent weapon in the next election in Nepal would be artificially generated clips of politicians beating each other up would have been science fiction. Yet, here we are: at a fever pitch of AI-based political content. Some are generated by the IT cells of political parties, while most are just produced and posted by young tech-savvy supporters of the new candidates. Most of them ridicule older leaders, and the predominant target is former prime minister K P Oli who was forced to resign after the September protests. On 20 January the TikTok account ‘iamfunnyman88’ posted a slapstick video in which former Kathmandu Mayor Balendra Shah is seen accosting ex-prime minister K P Oli with a giant bell (pictured), swinging it in Kung Fu Hustle style in what looks like Patan Darbar Square. Oli is sent splattered on the ground. K P Oli has become a symbol of the legacy parties and their aged leaders, and everything that is wrong with them. Balendra Shah represents the new protest candidate. The two are contesting from Jhapa-5, and it is turning out to be a prime ministerial race for 5 March. In another video, the RSP vs UML clash played out as a high-stakes war from the Mahabharat. Oli is a young warrior with a chiselled jaw and wearing a heavy golden armour ready to lead his followers to battle (pictured). A stylised Nepal flag flutters above him to the accompaniment of filmy dialogue.&nbsp; The videos are everywhere on TikTok, YouTube and Facebook. Many of the posts are hitting over 200,000 likes and 5 million views. Such content seems to be engaging more voters than speeches and door-to-door campaigning at the hustings. The videos are fake, but the numbers, and the attention they command, are very real.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026013014010_ed52fe3248b54eb4f9f391ee718e874a86c1b98297dde203800ad7b114bdacda" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal election memes"> </figure>  At first, it looked like the RSP’s digital media presence was a joke aimed at getting easy-to-access publicity via the far-reaching arms of the algorithm. But it is looking like a carefully designed strategy promoting Balen Shah as the RSP’s star player in this election.&nbsp; In 2022, it was just for the mayor of Kathmandu. This time, Balen Shah is already being promoted in these videos as a winner who has defeated the legacy politicians.&nbsp; In previous elections in Nepal, political parties used to spend lavishly on the ‘masu bhat’ strategy — feeding heavy plates of mutton curry and rice to constituents in return for votes. Ideology was swapped for immediate caloric gratification often accompanied by free-flowing alcohol.&nbsp; But surely, the new voter is too sophisticated for this. Politicians insist they have rebooted their operating systems to serve this enlightened demographic. We are talking, after all, about the generation that brought down a government over 36 hours in September.&nbsp; The assumption is that young voters today are too aware and far too proud to trade democratic agency for something as crude as a plate of steaming mutton curry and rice.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026013014014_983476ba334f895b64cd8ea34bd0ad79c1632c428feb119c84477d8e929eb057" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  But the question is: are voters today any different? Aren’t these social media memes digital versions of the masu bhat that delivers a dopamine rush to voters? Watching the videos is entertainment that delivers a state of bliss, a protest against what is old but no enlightenment about how to get to the new. &nbsp; The I-cannot-go-a-single-minute-without-checking-my-phone demographic has leaned firmly towards politicians whose main focus is to be a social media star first, and an accountable politician second. More than 70% of Nepalis have smartphones now and most are hooked on data plans. The public has acquired a taste for a different kind of masu bhat - the digital kind. Instead of being made to slurp up the free spicy, fatty goat curry with deep guttural satisfaction, voters are being made to swallow easy-to-digest online clips to make serious voting decisions.&nbsp; After all, it is more fun than paying attention to a candidate’s policy proposals and actually thinking critically about the candidates.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026013014014_eb3a9e0c50f4a47706a6695e78ae41556c3d9754c15d564d42fb0de3f4199999" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal elections meme"> </figure>  TURNING POINT An important moment for the evolution of this digital masu bhat is the 2020 pandemic. It was just six years ago that the entire population was cut off from physical interaction. The phone screen became the sole mediator of social existence.&nbsp; Technology changes what we see as important, and this prolonged immersion fundamentally alters our perception of reality, training us to accept the flattened, binary logic of the algorithm as a substitute for the complex, multisensory texture of political reality. What is on the phone has started to dictate the questions we ask and the answers we accept. If it is not on the phone, it is starting to look irrelevant. The memes manufacture consent. Gerontocratic politicians habituated to legacy media have not fathomed the implications of this new virtual world. Everyone has been swayed by a good story since the beginning of time. Now, the phone has allowed millions of Nepalis to tell, retell, consume, and remix stories that would traditionally have huge barriers to entry. Consider the vegetable vendor killing time between customers, Gen-Z youth with no memory of the Maoist conflict, or the grandad who cannot distinguish an AI video from real footage.&nbsp; When they finally step into the voting booth, what is guiding their hand? Is it a careful calculus of policy proposals, demonstrated competence, and leadership integrity? Or is it the cumulative impact of those AI-generated dopamine hits they have been fed on a loop? This digital fog of war cuts both ways. In a twist of supreme irony, actual footage of candidates behaving badly is now routinely dismissed as ‘AI-generated’ by their PR teams. This was a convenient get-out-of-jail-free card that Balen’s camp used when a video of him shoving cadres went viral.&nbsp; Meanwhile, completely fabricated tear-jerkers of old leaders like Prachanda weeping are consumed by the public as gospel truth. We have arrived at a point where the inconvenient real is dismissed as a glitch, and the emotional fake is embraced as history.&nbsp; In Society of the Spectacle, Guy Debord argued that images eventually replace real life. Today’s voters in Nepal and elsewhere are not even consuming the actual meat-and-bones of mutton curry; they are swallowing the 15 second digital imitations of it.&nbsp; Welcome to the age of digital मासु भात.

Nepal’s AI-generated election

We walk past familiar neighbourhoods and wonder how much it has changed. An ongoing exhibition at The Kalā Salon titled Changing Times by The Pagoda Group aims to do just that -- capture ever-changing society within a captivating display of colourful canvases. Brick-lined houses, local tea shops, ancient temples, quiet devotion are themes in Pradhumna Shrestha’s series Shangri-La, much of which is an imagined past filled with nostalgia of the place he grew up in. By keeping people out of the frame, he allows space for what he calls a divine aura to surface.&nbsp; “I was born and brought up here and my canvases echo the nostalgia of cities like Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Lalitpur which are dense with myth, folklore, religion, and an ever-present divinity. All of this is truly what is ours, and we must treasure it,” says Shrestha. “Whatever I truly felt in my heart, I translated it into my work.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260128100132_32a8f9e9816595f12ec0da357528feffbb249fd19adbb658c18e72e2b721f9df" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1036" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  The swirling clouds that drift across Shrestha’s canvases borrow from thangka and paubha traditions, lending the scenes a sense of mysticism and otherworldliness. Within this dreamscape are red circular forms which represent wheels of chariots. &nbsp;The presence of divinity dominates from above, its presence asserted in soft blue brushstrokes below, as if the deity’s gaze itself has seeped into the land. Gods linger as guardians and temples hum with enigma in his paintings. In his much earlier work, Cultural Bond, a lakhe masked dancer bursts forward in vibrant red, dancing against a backdrop of molten gold clouds. The lakhe’s trance signifies protection and where it steps, the evil cannot follow. Hence, the skulls that surround but never fall beneath its feet but, one leg hangs suspended in midair, suggesting uncertainty, raising questions.&nbsp; Is this a symbol of culture and tradition, secure, or is it endangered by modernity? The work captures a society at a crossroads, honouring tradition while grappling with the risk of drifting away from it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260128100132_c78307920acc7b14fb9f469a011043661accec66c230b5e7587bcba0199bcbf1" data-rendition-name="original" width="979" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In Panchatatva Mandala, Pasang Bikram Lama fuses two mandalas into a single visual meditation, suggesting unity where each colour carries symbolic weight: yellow evokes the soil of the earth, blue flows as water, red burns with fire, and black opens into the vastness of the spatial sky. Together, these elements form a quiet cosmology that speaks of creation and dissolution, of life folding endlessly into death and returning again. Says Lama, “Everyone has a mandala of their own being, and the elements represent their cycle of life.” Mala Shrestha’s works Water of the Divine Mother and The Spirit of Serenity unfold in a dreamy and delicate fusion of nature and religion, suggesting that divine forms are not separate from the natural world. Trees and branch-like motifs appear as origins of sacred sculptures and spiritual presences.&nbsp; Her goddesses, adorned in alluring ornaments, emerge from trunks and streams, painted in aqua green, pink pastels, and rustic browns, as if grown rather than created, affirming that the divine is inseparable from nature and present everywhere.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260128100132_1f8cce84b4515a0d6d8b8fc169367bf5d39a7479c2c30038dafe90ec2bb3c4c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Kishor Nakarmi’s Essence of Nepal, where Gautam Buddha appears embedded within leaves, brick walls, birds, and wilderness, dissolving boundaries between the sacred and the earthly. These canvases radiate calm and their subtlety is enriched by finely observed details. Similarly, Rudra Bahadur Pun captures the vitality of mask dances and ritual movements found in the monasteries of Mustang, weaving together tradition, landscape, and daily life. The essence of the exhibition comes together in Roshan Pradhan’s works. His paintings reflect a contemporary tension where technology collides with ancestral myth and the power of tradition. A fierce Garud rises within a landscape saturated by technological apparatuses, while at its feet a human form representing AI clings tightly, attempting to assert control.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260128100132_dc2c1ad4a4cefea6c6c7d02e9ed500309b7c862535247fe6451038e1d053d6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  In another work, Bhairab confronts a human embodiment of AI in a theatrical standoff, with the deity ultimately prevailing, reaffirming endurance over technological dominance. The human figures in Pradhan’s paintings are drawn from life with his friends volunteering as models, photographed and later translated onto canvas.&nbsp; “Technology has taken over our lives. Many can probably not even imagine life without it now. But, culture, too, is integral to human existence. Our life would be much different without our culture; it is a part of us,” notes the artist. Rather than framing technology as purely antagonistic, Pradhan explores coexistence, and while acknowledging its destructive potential, he affirms his belief in the power of our myths and traditions.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260128100132_bc831a663ca8977c39979a363a95bcae5e41cfe624d78152c546579caa3e680f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="The Kala Salon exhibition NT"> </figure>  Pradhan adds, “These paintings are also an archive of its time. Viewers centuries from now may read these paintings as records of the age we inhabit. While technology is important, cultural continuity must walk alongside it. Festivals must still be celebrated, oral traditions must be sustained, and our roots must be remembered, especially by future generations.” Curator Sophia L Pande says the exhibition took more than a year to put together:&nbsp; “It responds to a shifting world, seeking to capture both transformation and the quiet fear of loss. Its themes move fluidly across environment, technology, artificial intelligence, and climate change, reflecting the diverse yet interconnected practices of the artists, providing a glimpse into the evolving landscape of contemporary Nepali art.” Changing Times The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre, Thamel 11AM-8PM

pulchoki

Where wild things are

Nepal lashed by winter rain and snow

Hotter Himalaya melts glaciers

Sky is the limit

Nepal’s AI-generated election

Time, transience, transition