<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d17f49c7e80680e0ac796jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="768" height="967"/><figcaption>Meditation, Poster Color, 74 x 58 cm, MoNA Collection</figcaption></figure>In a society where we spiritualise the tangible through our imagination and creativity, we also turn into tangible art forms our spiritual experiences.Traditional devotional art uses various imaginative forms to represent a thought or emotion: compassion, impermanence, detachment. To this day we echo the artists who thousands of years ago translated mudra, objects, and nature into iconography.The very form of everyday devotion and ritual in our culture and religion is an abstraction of our imagination for practical, tangible, and visual purposes – most vividly in stones and rocks.For example, an oval rock, when powdered with red tika, turns into a Ganesh. An oblong stone becomes a Shiva linga just by having milk sprinkled on it. Any roadside rock when smeared with vermillion and covered in flowers is revered as a deity. We dare not pass these totems without bowing our heads as a manifesstation of unshakeable faith.This is because in those objects we see what is not there, and interpret it according to what we want, imagine, and believe.Abstract art, on the other hand, is a purposeful collision of an artist’s conscious and subconsious minds to give instinctual expression. The subconscious mind is best understood as a recollection of actions and experiences, which the contemporary abstract artist piques when crafting and contemplating a masterpiece.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/jeevan-rajopadhyays-untitled/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Jeevan Rajopadhyay’s Untitled</a>, Rajan ShakyaSuch is the case of Uttam Nepali’s I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N. which brings out untainted, unbiased, and unsolicited inquisitiveness in all of us. Staring in-depth into this painting screams out the purity of childlike innocence. The conscious and the subconscious instincts are unleashed, evoking a time when right and wrong were not determined by rigid rules, but through love and affection.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d17f79c7e80680e0ac797jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="960" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Uttam Nepali merged art and poetry into a kind of original expressionism not seen before in Nepal. The artist died on 21 July 2021 in a Kathmandu hospital aged 84, and as a tribute the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-first-private-art-museum/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Museum of Nepali Art (MoNA)</a> in Thamel organised an individual and group viewing of his painting  I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N.This is what we saw and what we felt, how this work by Uttam Nepali moved, and moved us. We were very lucky to have met and interviewed the artist about this particular work before he passed away.The acquisition of I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N. came out of a necessity. I did not even look at the painting and I did not ask for its price. I had been looking to acquire one of Uttam Nepali’s pieces for a long time.The only thing I knew was that I wanted his work in MoNA because a museum dedicated to Nepali artists would not be complete without Uttam Nepali in it.The painting hung in my office wall for at least six months, and it was amazing to observe how a painting of this calibre speaks differently from different perspectives and temperaments. After all, moods and emotions dictate the emergence of different shapes and colours as a form of artistic expression.Some days the red seemed prominent, other days it was the blue that provoked, and strokes of white suddenly made sense. When I am alone, I see something but when looking at the painting in a group, something else emerges. It feels like a different painting every time you look at it. What an investment!Eventually, the painting becomes a part of the viewer's personality, and adds to it. How you explain this artwork to others hints at your own depth of understanding and place in the world.I met Uttam Nepali only a month before he passed away, and at that time I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N. communicated with me in an entirely new way. Here was a man who had devoted his entire life to art and Nepal's art community. His studio stacks over 300 of his paintings. Some of the artwork is as personal as his representation of his grandchildren in the womb.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/n-a-r-i-by-mukti-singh-thapa/">N A R Ì by Mukti Singh Thapa</a>, Rajan SakyaUttam Nepali rarely sold his art. Instead, he presented them to people he met and who showed interest in his work. I was trying to persuade his family to allow us to hold a solo exhibition at MoNA of his incomparable contribution to the contemporary art of Nepal.We had only given a day’s notice before visiting Uttam Nepali at his home. As we sat down, his son Udhyam told us how his father had become rather forgetful after a surgery five years ago. He was on oxygen support most of the time, and his memory was deteriorating day by day.But when we showed him his painting that we were acquiring, there was a sudden sparkle in his eyes. He sat up and spoke nonstop for 20 minutes about when he made it, why he made it, and what feeling he had at the time. This is what he said:“When everyone comes to a state of quietness and calm, every person shares a similar kind of impression and expression. However, they have different façades. The temptations on their faces are different. Their attitudes differ as well. Nevertheless, the emotions that they portray may be the same ... in the sense that everyone looking at the same painting will be observing the same feelings. The closeness of the visitor’s expression and emotions with what is depicted in the painting will be unavoidable after a certain time.”He added, “Abstract art depicts something that is expressed without saying a word. It shows what is hidden. It is simultaneously easy and hard to understand. Hence, the power of impression and expression is like walking upon a dark alley without the light and discovering its rare and unique idiosyncrasy. It will have the verity of essence.”MoNA manager Jenisha Maharjan is also moved by what the painting depicts, and the emotions it evokes in her. “At first glance, one can see half a face with its eyes closed,” she says. “They express serenity and tranquillity as the subject is in a deep state of meditation. Then upon deeper reflection, the face looks like the meditating Buddha.”“The other half of the face has a darker coat. We also see brush strokes in the middle of the canvas with a red rectangular shape towards the edges, resembling a thumb with the nail painted red, maybe a woman’s hand. Could this be a modern depiction of Buddha Maar?”<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/lain-singh-bangdels-sigh/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Lain Singh Bangdel’s ‘Sigh’</a>, Rajan SakyaMaharjan says the grip looks very powerful, yet, surprisingly, the face remains calm, peaceful, and unbothered. “A little too dramatic and explosive use of colours,” she says, “yet amazing how even closed eyes can be so expressive.”Ursula Manandhar is head of research at MoNA and says I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N. may actually represent what concentration, or trying to concentrate, may look like. It feels as if a person is struggling, or fighting their inner demons with brighter and more positive thoughts.“The power of our mind and its capacity for imagination is so vast that it could be a joyous journey across, or overwhelming. Sometimes darkness overshadows the mind and at other times a bright light dispels the darkness,” Ursula Manandhar says. “The curiosity for abstract art starts in us before we even know how to speak or write. As toddlers we looked into the sky and interpreted the formation of clouds as we wanted and felt.”But as we grow older our unique creativity is eclipsed by other people’s perceptions, and what is brought in front of us. Individual creativity has been blighted by the transient mass-market visualisations and the decadence of modern-day superficiality.Rajan Sakya is the founder of the <a href="https://www.mona.com.np/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Museum of Nepali Art</a> at Kathmandu Guest House, Thamel and contributes this monthly column For Art's Sake in Nepali Times.  Turkish Airlines has partnered with Museum of Arts Nepal (MoNA) to bring 33 Nepali artists together for a day-long live art congregation at Kathmandu Guest House, Thamel from 7-9 October. Visitors also have the chance to win a trip to Europe via lucky draw.

Rajan Sakya

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I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N by Uttam Nepali

This is the 91st 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 have still not come to terms with the reality that my daughter Ruby Thakur is now the Deputy Speaker of Nepal’s Parliament. Sometimes, when I am walking, the thought hits me, and I cannot believe it.&nbsp; Things changed for my daughter in a very short time. I had dreamt that the best my daughter could achieve was a good engineering job. Fate had bigger plans for her. She is no longer just my daughter, she is the nation’s daughter. Nepal’s daughter.&nbsp; My children’s education was always my foremost priority. That is the main reason I went overseas for employment. I realised the value of education while working in Saudi Arabia. In my office, colleagues with good education earn $8,000 per month working on computers. Those with low education toil outdoors in the heat for much lower wages. A good education or skills can change everything. I am in Nepal on vacation and will soon return to my job. Ruby is all set now. But I still have to take care of my other children's education. As the eldest son, I myself never got a chance to prioritise my own education. I dropped out in Grade 7 because I had to take care of my ageing parents and younger siblings. I have done all kinds of jobs. I worked in a landlord’s field for a share of the harvest. Even now my wife and I farm for the land owner and have to give away half of what we grow.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260413120444_051b61e01a5189af538aa1e011acd3e2b38d5f42825116b2afd325d93d0c519b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> <figcaption>Sogarath Thakur during a break in Nepal with wife tending to his farm.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260413120448_8a1c3ac3fd559026bc6f981cc8dc82cb8ad09a3a4f55fb9f6f7fd5f49c3d5571" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  Then I worked as a barber, my family’s line of occupation. I went door to door cutting people’s hair and later worked in a relative’s saloon. Hairstyles were simple back then, and I got to keep half the fee. I also worked in a brick factory where I was paid weekly. &nbsp; I married when I was 16, and my wife was a year younger. As my family and responsibilities grew, I had to migrate leaving behind my three children including Ruby who was just three months old.&nbsp; I went to Qatar where I continued working as a barber. It was a large saloon and the standards for cleanliness and professionalism were higher. I had to hand over 70% of my daily earnings to the employer. I had to rely on my colleague to translate what the customer wanted. But I slowly became fluent in Arabic. I used to jot down words in Nepali and Arabic and memorise them. In Qatar, customers even came at night for haircuts, and people stayed up late. I would work till 3AM.&nbsp; Communicating with my family was one-way. I would go to Bismillah and ask someone to type out questions to my family about their whereabouts, how the harvest was that season. I would offer very little information about my life in Qatar because it was not easy. What was the point of getting them all worried? What could they do? I never received a letter in return, so throughout my time in Qatar, I never knew how my family was faring. When I appeared in the village after five years without any advance notice, it was a bittersweet reunion, and I had no gifts. I still remember how unfamiliar my village felt when I came home after so many years. I had to ask for directions. When I came home, Ruby was already in school. I had left her in my wife’s arms five years prior. I missed her growing up, and did not even see her pictures. My wife had to introduce her to me as her father. But it took just 15 minutes for her to warm up to me.&nbsp; The Arabic skills I had picked up in Qatar came in handy when I remigrated two years later to Saudi Arabia. I worked as a labourer in the desert heat, but once my company found out I spoke Arabic, I was hired for an indoor job as an office boy. The struggle in Qatar had paid off. I worked in an air conditioned office serving tea or coffee, doing bank runs or getting documents signed and photocopied. I have worked in the same company for the past 20 years, sending money home.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20260413120448_f083fa873a6d77b19c8b0bdde623415c643a151fb550c57ff4e52b3c2431355f" data-rendition-name="original" width="5712" height="3213" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260413120452_5ccd9a01ee05ce26b71381725108215d0f0d3806508b0cb482aabcfea09bbaef" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="DD"> </figure>  My wife is not just my children’s guardian, but also mine throughout the two decades I was away. I trust her with all my earnings, and she manages our household finances well. She makes sure that the children’s school fees and other expenses are paid on time. These days, with video calls, things have become much easier for me to stay in touch with home.&nbsp; When Ruby told me she wanted to do an engineering diploma, I was happy. Later, her friends inspired her to join politics so she started getting involved with Shram Sanskriti Party. I first found out she got the proportional representation nomination through social media while on my work duty in Saudi Arabia. I was so excited, but even more so when she was elected Deputy Speaker. I was back home in Dhanusha on my vacation at the time.&nbsp; We are overjoyed and waiting for her to come back to the village for a visit when she gets a chance so we can celebrate properly with everyone. I plan to go back to Saudi Arabia as originally planned, I have a good job and will work for maybe five more years. Ruby has taken 75% of the load off my back. She can help take care of her siblings.&nbsp; I sleep at 8PM every day and wake up at 5AM to exercise before my day in Saudi Arabia begins – I have stuck to the same routine for the last two decades and it has worked well for me and my health. I have a good rapport with my boss who is an Egyptian. My requests to resign have often been met with counter-offers to stay on. My honesty and hard work have won me the company's trust. I will go back and resume working as I have, despite my daughter’s huge achievements. I am still a farmer’s son, a simple man who has to fulfil his family responsibilities. My colleagues in Saudi Arabia are aware that Ruby is Deputy Speaker in Nepal’s Parliament, they are all happy for me and have congratulated me. This time, when I go back, I have promised them that I will throw a bakhri party to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.

The nation’s daughter

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Nepalis are insured but not covered

The series Nepal Made profiles Nepali products and the people who make them possible. Named after the mythical bird-like creature, GarudX is Nepal’s first precision manufacturer of UAV platforms. They offer a wide range of drone products and services. Last month, GarudX won first place at the US-Nepal Startup Weekend Challenge, a three-day accelerator-style program that gathered 25 of Nepal’s most promising early-stage companies. These include custom drones, cinematography, virtual tours, first-person-view (FPV), drone racing, 3D reconstruction, ground control software, and drone light shows. “I think they liked that we pitched the company as a Drone Enterprise System, as a company providing large-scale, integrated drone services,” says Dipawoli Malla, an AI software engineer with GarudX. The company sees a lot of potential in AI-based aerial computer vision, which is already used for infrastructure planning and land surveys, and could be vital in tracking wildlife poachers and assisting search and rescue during disasters. “Our vision for the company has always been to be the one stop solution for every drone problem,” says GarudX CEO Avash Thapa, who also oversees video production. Drones have gained high profile in the past five years due to their widespread adoption in war. While they do work with the Nepali army, GarudX wants to focus on the idea of drone for good. For Nepal, the potential is great for civilian applications especially because of the country’s terrain. Past efforts have been experimental, like a project to deliver tuberculosis treatment in Piuthan in 2019, and for wildlife censuses in Chitwan. Journalists now regularly use drone footage to get a bird’s-eye view for investigative stories on illegal sand-mining or delays in infrastructure projects. Drones were vital during the GenZ protests last September, in which aerial videos provided clues about what actually happened when the crowd surged towards Parliament. They also captured the dramatic aftermath of the destruction of government buildings featured in this paper. “A lot of people do not know or appreciate that drones are also made in Nepal,” notes Malla. “We export a lot of technology as software. It is a big achievement that we can also export hardware.” GarudX was informally started and active on social media since 2018, and officially registered as GarudX Multipurpose in 2024. Founder and Managing Director Adarsha Raj Bhusal had experience working with robotics and FPV drones when he launched the company, as an engineering group interested in custom-built high-performance aerial robotics. “I design our products,” says Bhusal. “We send designs to China where they are manufactured as individual parts. Costs are low when importing from China. Then we assemble and sell them here. It's a system that works well for us.” Among the UAVs GarudX makes include the Skyreaper, which is a long-range drone with advanced obstacle sensing; the GX8 Pyro which is Nepal’s first cinema-grade cinelifter; and the Aether Zoom which is a 4K UAV camera designed for tactical, industrial, or reconnaissance missions.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260417150440_d9f36b32e0b4d65dedded3e705aa7bf8769fd72417fc53669e77ce7a32f8ccd1.webp" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260417150440_d9f36b32e0b4d65dedded3e705aa7bf8769fd72417fc53669e77ce7a32f8ccd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="garudx"></figure>  NO CERTIFICATION The main obstacle to GarudX's growth has been the lack of a national certification system. Permits to use drones are convoluted and require applications to various government agencies. “We miss out on so many international projects, for national park footage for example, since there is no way to get our drones registered — even after the army thoroughly checks our craft,” says Adarsha Raj Bhusal. GarudX says it now has the capacity to export its drones overseas at competitive prices, but Nepal does not have a registration system in place. “We can’t legally ship them,” says Avaya Pokharel, Chief Operating Officer who oversees service and repairs. With a new RSP government in place with an ambitious blueprint for digitisation, things could soon change. Relevant bodies are the Home Ministry, the Civil Aviation Authority and the Ministry of Defence because of privacy, aviation safety and national security issues. “There are meetings going on, and there is hope that progress will be made. Of course we want certification to be easy, but it is hard for the government as they have to understand the technology and what is coming in future,” says Bhusal. Legislation could look like a Remote ID system to register every drone. It could also specify pilot verification, placing limitations on what a pilot can do based on their skill level. It could also look at revising drone policies in the capital. Most of Kathmandu Valley is technically a no-fly zone for drones at present because of the concentration of government buildings, army bases and the international airport flight path. To comply with current regulations, GarudX has focused on lightweight FPV drones: small, nimble craft that can be maneuvered at high speed in tight spaces, operated by a pilot wearing immersive goggles. This results in exciting fast-paced footage, particularly useful for clients like Redbull or vehicle companies. “It feels like you are flying,” testifies Bhusal, who has flown FPV for commercials and movies, and ranks way ahead of runner ups in drone races. His work can be seen @adars_fpv on Instagram. The company has built a community of FPV drone racers, and is working with the government to certify it as a sports competition. It holds race events at colleges in Kathmandu and also consults for FPV events in in India.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260417150440_43b27b1b6890e47028c5e780c2ed0147a057f625d9d551221ddbd504dc03a356.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260417150440_43b27b1b6890e47028c5e780c2ed0147a057f625d9d551221ddbd504dc03a356" data-rendition-name="original" width="923" height="619" loading="lazy" alt="garudx"></figure>  MULTIPURPOSE Drones can be versatile tools, but they are particularly helpful in Nepal and the Himalaya. Powerful drones have been used for the last two years to transport ropes and ladders up Mt Everest to reduce the dangers on the Khumbu Icefall, and to bring trash down. If scaled with many pilots and drones, this could be a complete solution to the Everest trash problem while massively reducing risk to human lives. GarudX has also tested its products in the mountains. A recent blog entry on their website is titled, ‘Flying at 6,120m: What We Learned Testing Drones on Lobuche Peak’. They document the process of using different battery tricks and propellers to see what combination allows for more flight time in the thin, cold air. It is refreshing to see a Nepali company making such progress in a unique industry while also documenting advances.

rajan-shakya

I.M.A.G.I.N.A.T.I.O.N by Uttam Nepali

The nation’s daughter

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Nepalis are insured but not covered

Nepal drone startup takes off