At 11:56AM on 25 April 2015, the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rebuilding-new-structures-using-old-traditions,2827">ancient Newa town of Bungamati </a>on the southern fringes of Kathmandu Valley suffered more damage than most-- it was completely razed.&nbsp; Some 700 buildings collapsed and at least seven people were killed. The iconic Bungadyo temple dedicated to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the rain god Machindranath</a> collapsed in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/11-56-25-april-2015-wkc9q2an">7.8 magnitude quake</a>. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Ten years later, Bungamati was rebuilt. But the original architecture of two-storey houses with tilted tile roofs have been replaced with modern concrete boxes, their façades still gleaming with fresh paint.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250409040432_d7083d8b65119dd1f989c17eaab1f837a067e14d4a55a22fb67d4cbb2ceff138.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250409040432_d7083d8b65119dd1f989c17eaab1f837a067e14d4a55a22fb67d4cbb2ceff138" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Bungamati builds back"> <figcaption>All photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The Bungadyo complex at the heart of the town, however, is being restored to its original grandeur as it prepares for this year’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/delayed-machindranath-festival-resumes">Machindranath chariot festival.</a> For many residents here, the horror of that day is still fresh in their minds. They remember narrow escapes, losing loved ones and the numerous <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/after-the-aftershocks-the-survivors,3006">aftershocks</a>. The survivors took refuge in tents and had just started drifting back to their damaged homes when the 7 May aftershock hit. “We got exactly one tent,” says a local Kamala Tuladhar, 40, of the earthquake rescue and relief, recalling the financial strain of rebuilding. “We rebuilt everything by ourselves, that money could have gone to our children’s education.” Some families in Bungamati received financial aid of up to Rs50,000 for reconstruction but most families here say that they never got any help and rebuilt on their own. Jogmaya Maharjan, 52, received only Rs20,000 from the Red Cross despite<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/broken-promises-reconstruction,3627"> government promises of reconstruction grants</a>, and had to sell a plot of land to build a new house. “Everything is new now, which is good for progress, but it doesn’t feel the same,” she says, adding that she misses the cosy warmth of her old mud-mortar house.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250409060416_3f2810530af9c5f1bbfd2e113485444e0ff1771e6f4cac04c089e2e46de92345.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250409060416_3f2810530af9c5f1bbfd2e113485444e0ff1771e6f4cac04c089e2e46de92345" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Kamala Tuladhar"> <figcaption>Kamala Tuladhar</figcaption> </figure>  Kamala currently runs a small eatery in the town and says almost everyone now has <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/A-concrete-future,2251">concrete houses</a>, as well as increased awareness about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared">earthquake safety</a>. “We have a concrete house now, it is stronger but we lost our ancestral building,” she adds. Ratnaman Maharjan’s five-storey Bungamati Homestay offering a panoramic view of the Valley to the north is a popular lodging destination for tourists looking to stay over the weekend.&nbsp; “Without the earthquake, Bungamati would have remained a sleepy town that few people visited,” he says. “The earthquake was a tragedy, but it forced a much-needed change.” Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/khokana-and-bungamati-strive-to-save-heritage">Khokana and Bungamati strive to save heritage</a>, Prabhas Pokharel Bungamati has always embodied a quintessential Newa ambience of the kind that had steadily disappeared from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/preserving-patan-post-earthquake">Patan</a> or Kathmandu. It is a compact and densely-packed town sitting on higher ground with vegetable and paddy terraces below.&nbsp; This <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=1885">unique urban-rural symbiosis</a> was the hallmark of the Kathmandu Valley culturescape. Despite its proximity to Kathmandu, Bungamati was essentially a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/migrants-return-home-to-do-commercial-farming,3929">traditional farming village</a> — but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake">after the earthquake </a>it has transitioned into a modern suburb.&nbsp; The rebuilding of the Machindranath temple has been a rather long and arduous journey, and is only now nearing completion. Unlike in Kathmandu, Patan and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bhaktapur-2-0-d8m66qhb">Bhaktapur</a>, there were no aid agencies to help rebuild the temples here. The local chair of the reconstruction committee also died by suicide, further delaying the process.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040904048_7adb77af2fad4d4f9b389649c20a945e5d2534fea02dc03c7a4c02a3d3f7791e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025040904048_7adb77af2fad4d4f9b389649c20a945e5d2534fea02dc03c7a4c02a3d3f7791e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Bungamati builds back"> <figcaption>Amir Shakya</figcaption> </figure>  “In the immediate aftermath, it was all about survival, so gods and religion were the last thing on our minds,” recalls Amir Shakya, chair of the rebuilding committee for Rato Machindranath. But as the dust settled after the earthquake, it became clear that unless the community took charge, the temple would never be built. The National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) formed a rebuilding committee, officially putting efforts in motion. Restoring the temple was no easy feat, particularly during <a href="about:blank">the Covid-19 pandemic</a>. Even transporting construction material was a logistical nightmare while prices skyrocketed. The community had to arrange for highly specific materials and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present?%27%22=">intricate craftsmanship</a>, both of which were not readily available in the market.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250409040444_925c58caffe447f392818e75de7851c17d47db1461447bc2ccc7c18016c89de8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="20250409040444_925c58caffe447f392818e75de7851c17d47db1461447bc2ccc7c18016c89de8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Bungamati builds back"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250409030456_163d1aeabf3918541f9196b91a0c85cf3a97ed0bb7c8015295543234b8c85e53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="20250409030456_163d1aeabf3918541f9196b91a0c85cf3a97ed0bb7c8015295543234b8c85e53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="563" loading="lazy" alt="Bungamati builds back"> </figure>  “Rebuilding had to be meticulous and precise to truly preserve the cultural essence of the old Machindranath temple,” adds Shakya. “We lost more than just structures, we lost the very heartbeat of our heritage. Even now, it feels like we are still struggling to recover, and despite the reconstruction, something is still missing.” Ward chair Sagar Tuladhar says that the situation remained dire until the 2017 local elections, when the elected municipal council finally stepped in. The European Union provided help for mapping and technical support. "Before the earthquake, most families lived in ancestral homes—structures built using raw bricks and mud. In hindsight, we realise this was a major reason why so many of them collapsed,” says Tuladhar.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040904048_5eb476e0f3a722ae7c114e7d9f7a96abba44a85a8503cfe2dd7a993866280a6b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025040904048_5eb476e0f3a722ae7c114e7d9f7a96abba44a85a8503cfe2dd7a993866280a6b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Bungamati builds back"> <figcaption>Sagar Tuladhar</figcaption> </figure>  But today, while houses are stronger and more reliable, the challenge of balancing structural resilience with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dapcha-s-old-world-charm-awaits?fbclid=IwAR0EtIozNL7a0xiKnQSpHSxsoCACXltEUQj1xd2Fo7dRLUiqPMKt4c029ik_aem_AYAPWpOme51Fm9ZIGgneMuZKanrc3Y1IwEfpKmg7oxGwFoxjp0So1_xDNzkuA1acRYc">the preservation of traditional settlements</a> remains. There is also a danger of substandard concrete buildings which will not be able to withstand<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> stronger earthquakes in the future</a>, becoming death traps. In response, regulations have been introduced to prevent haphazard building as well as to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">cultural integrity</a>. &nbsp;The cultural resettlement map design was approved after the earthquake, and requires the maximum height of buildings to be no more than 35m.&nbsp; “Many resist restrictions on the number of floors and construction materials,” admits ward chair Tuladhar. “Despite <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16161">modern housing trends</a>, we have also made every effort to uphold the distinct Newa architectural identity. Residents are not allowed to install shutters, use iron reinforcements, or plaster over traditional façades.” He adds that nearly all the homes and heritage structures have now been rebuilt, with only a few remaining to be completed in the next two years. Concrete structures stand where mud-brick homes once did, yet the soul of Bungamati endures in its traditions and its people as it prepares for next month’s Machindranath festival. &nbsp;

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Bungamati builds back

Gyalbu Tamang had spent the night in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal">Langtang village</a> for a prayer vigil, and was on his way back to his home in Kyanjin, three hours up the valley. It started drizzling, and he took shelter at a friend’s place. Just before noon as tea was being served, the ground shook violently. It was strangely dark, large lumps of snow started falling like in a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/heavy-snowfall-over-nepal-himalaya">blizzard</a>.&nbsp; Tamang knew it was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal?fbclid=IwAR3P8YkAGim9rZo5oPMMDTfsUD29TVo9heuh378KH5Lo-TVA6YjotithQg8">big earthquake</a>, and rushed on to Kyanjin to see if his two daughters were safe. His heart sank when he looked down from a bluff overlooking the village. His house and much of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-buddha-was-born-in-lumbini">monastic town</a> were piles of rubble and ice.&nbsp; His daughters had been taught in school to take cover in an earthquake, and this saved them when it hit. Tamang's sister Sumjo was outside and blown off by the blast. When she came to, she could not move because of a broken leg and her baby daughter had been thrown away but safe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250405030444_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250405030444_dd47ceaf71a505e075f4a3628baf70161a40ebd21bcec1b1a2ebe03b28da4293" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> <figcaption>As a boy, Gyalbu Tamang learnt cheesemaking from his father who was trained by the Swiss in the 1950s.</figcaption> </figure>  Tamang then ran back down to Langtang where the rest of his extended family lived. He passed people fleeing in the opposite direction who said <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-courage-and-endurance-of-the-langtangpa">there was nothing left of Langtang</a>. His parents, sisters and their families were all buried by the avalanche. “If I had not left that morning, I would have been dead too,” says Tamang, now 49.&nbsp; The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/lost-in-reconstruction">7.8 magnitude earthquake</a> unleashed an avalanche from Mt Langtang Lirung (7,234m) that bulldozed a glacier, burying the village below in debris 100m deep. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down">Five years after avalanche, Langtang is locked down&nbsp;</a> At least 310 people were killed, 80 of them <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trekkers-welcome-in-nepal-but-conditions-apply">international trekkers</a>. Most were never found, some were blown off by the shock wave to the other side of the valley. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/langtang-before-after-earthquake-nepal">Langtang village was wiped off the map</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504048_d8c71171ea5b41fb9fb5d919f671567ea4e326590b4a2ff340951e1c1713f9b0.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025040504048_d8c71171ea5b41fb9fb5d919f671567ea4e326590b4a2ff340951e1c1713f9b0" data-rendition-name="original" width="834" height="447" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley map"> </figure>  Tamang returned to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-revives-its-cheese-heritage">Langtang Cheese Production Centre</a> which he heads. It was set up in the 1950s by the Swiss, and now run by the government’s<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/land-of-milk-and-money"> Dairy Development Cooperation (DDC)</a>.&nbsp; The factory was flattened by the earthquake. What was left of the equipment, raw material and 150kg of cheese in the storeroom were destroyed. Of the yak herders who supplied milk to the plant, 22 had been killed and 700 of their yaks. Langtang's survivors, including Tamang’s family, were evacuated to Phuntsok Choeling Monastery in Kathmandu for safety as aftershocks rattled Langtang.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504044_e44f7d2697ff5b49528b44792dab75efa34ecf549555ce4b6a589833e54b0df8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="2025040504044_e44f7d2697ff5b49528b44792dab75efa34ecf549555ce4b6a589833e54b0df8" data-rendition-name="original" width="5312" height="2988" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  That was where Tamang reconnected with film-maker Kesang Tseten, who was so moved by the tales of survivors who had lost family members, that he made his award-winning documentary Trembling Mountain. “I wasn’t initially thinking of making a film, however, the story started unfolding itself,” recalls Tseten.&nbsp; Trembling Mountain became not just the story of the rebirth of Langtang but also about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-yak-cheese-is-on-world-map">yak herders and cheese makers</a> who had lost their livelihood.&nbsp; “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Mountain people</a> struck by disaster with the tangible goal of rebuilding a cheese factory was a metaphor for the community getting back on its feet,” Tseten explains. The film crew visited Langtang five times over the next year, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal">trekking across trails </a>made treacherous by landslides and rockfalls. The Nepal Army was still recovering bodies, and Kesang filmed a masked Gyalbu Tamang chanting with prayer beads as he identified the decomposed bodies of relatives.&nbsp; After watching the film, the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation (SDC) in Kathmandu helped rebuild the cheese plant. &nbsp; Gyalbu Tamang’s father was one of the first cheese makers trained by the Swiss 70 years ago, and he grew up milking yaks in high pasture and learning the art of cheese-making which he is now passing on to a younger generation. Trembling Mountain also prompted the DDC to raise the buying rate of yak milk from Rs70 per litre to Rs100.&nbsp; The Langtang cheese factory survived a catastrophic earthquake and was rebuilt, but ten years later its very existence is in doubt again because the herders are getting older and the youth have migrated. It is also too expensive to rear yaks.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/langtang-revives-its-cheese-heritage">Langtang revives its cheese heritage</a>, Gyalbu Tamang&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250405030456_916e23555795fd3e5f618ad328192e486fe1bc08c40edb1a038d3827123a0402.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250405030456_916e23555795fd3e5f618ad328192e486fe1bc08c40edb1a038d3827123a0402" data-rendition-name="original" width="2485" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> <figcaption>Langtang Cheese Production Centre was set up by the Swiss 70 years ago, and was destroyed in the 2015 disaster (left). It was rebuilt after the earthquake (right) but has been impacted by dwindling yak herders.</figcaption> </figure>  “Even a cup of black tea costs Rs120, so why would yak herders do such hard work?” asks Tamang, who was in Kathmandu this week to lobby with the DDC to increase the price of milk.&nbsp; The number of herders <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/so-far-so-good/nepal-s-milk-heartland-rebounds">supplying milk </a>to the cheese plant has come down from 36 to five. Some of the yaks are already being bought by other cheese factories down the valley or in Gatlang. Langtang cheese has strong brand value, and Tamang hopes that a private investor will be interested. This would not just revive the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-family-that-works-together-stays-together">dairy business</a>, but also the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/culture-cannot-be-an-afterthought">cultural heritage</a> associated with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-salt-of-the-earth">yak herding</a> that is in decline. &nbsp; The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">climate crisis</a> has added to the problem. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">Less snow in winter </a>affects grass in spring, leading to lower nutrition levels in yaks and less fat content in their milk.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504044_3c6e268b1704f7803fbe6ff1a070fc490afe437bed6adbf9c3dbaeeded5dda4a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_25" data-image-id="2025040504044_3c6e268b1704f7803fbe6ff1a070fc490afe437bed6adbf9c3dbaeeded5dda4a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1692" height="1232" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  This has a direct impact on cheese production at the factory, which has fallen to 2,300kg per season from a high of 7,000kg when Tamang’s father Pasang Norbu used to head the plant. “My father had 15 yaks himself, and he bought more with his retirement money so that his children would continue to be in the dairy business,” says Tamang. “My son is in Grade 6 in Kathmandu, and I hope he grows up to be a cheese maker too.” In the 10 years after the earthquake and avalanche, Kyanjin has become the new tourism hub with 46 lodges and has been dubbed ‘Thamel on the Mountain’. &nbsp; Karma Tamang, a lodge owner in Kyanjin whose relatives also perished, told us in 2021 that perhaps the earthquake was punishment to people of the valley for becoming too money-minded and greedy. “Back then immediately after the earthquake, many of us said that we have to fall back on religion again. After all, we cannot take anything with us when we die.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-reincarnation-of-a-holy-valley">The reincarnation of a holy valley</a> Besides cheesemaking, Gyalbu Tamang owns a small lodge in Kyanjin. He says, “That feeling is long gone, people are back to their old ways. Trekkers have returned, it is business as usual, and there is envy and competition.” &nbsp; <h2>Cheesemaking for beginners</h2> Technically, yak cheese is a misnomer. Yaks are male, and the female is a nak. There are also specialised names like zopkyo or dzom depending on whether they are male or female crossbred with cattle. Nepalis, even<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/The-way-%20we-were,968"> in the highlands</a>, do not traditionally eat cheese, but do turn surplus yak milk into churpi, a hard cheese with a long shelf life. It was the Swiss 70 years ago who wished to make Nepal in their image and introduce cheese making to places like Langtang and Jiri. The yak cheese production window is between March to November. Langtang Cheese Production Centre staff travel to high pastures up to 5,000m with their yaks. Yala has the highest quality milk as yaks graze on lush grass, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/giving-yarsagumba-a-chance-for-regrowth">yarsagumba </a>and panchaunle in the spring season. When they have grazed on one slope, they move on to the next. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040504040_8515e2f307c674d811da80e0c05e8d3afc0b9c8376ac39a360f9a5b5830ec464.jpg" data-media-id="editor_29" data-image-id="2025040504040_8515e2f307c674d811da80e0c05e8d3afc0b9c8376ac39a360f9a5b5830ec464" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1313" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang Valley"> </figure>  At camp, the milk is boiled to 65°C using firewood already stacked up during the off-season. The milk is then cooled to 35°C and the fat content brought down to 3.5-3.6% from 6.5-7%.&nbsp; Once the mixture attains the required fat content, an enzyme is added at about 32°C and left for five minutes after which the milk turns jelly-like. For the next 15 minutes, the smaller pieces are stirred in the vat by slowly increasing the temperature up to 52°C. At this point, the fire is stopped, but manual stirring continues for the next hour. Next, the curd is separated using cheesecloth every few minutes throughout the night, and filled into circular moulds. The whey byproduct is traditionally used as a home remedy for gastritis. The cheese disks are transported down to the factory in Kyanjin and dipped in salt water for 48 hours and then stored in racks for three months. They are moistened with salt water every once in a while before the cheese disks ripen. Today, churpi has become popular in Europe and the US as dog chew, and last year Nepal exported nearly 1,000 tonnes of dog chew worth $90 million to the United States. Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/churpi-lifecycle-in-nepal">The Churpi Lifecycle: An Infographic</a> &nbsp;

Sonia Awale

Langtang after 10 years

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114121112/637222d59c7e80680e0c0319jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800"/><figcaption>Bhaktapur Darbar Square. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption></figure>Restoration of monuments damaged in the 2015 earthquake have been carried out differently in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-monumental-rivalry/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu</a>, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/restoring-a-piece-of-nepals-history/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Lalitpur</a> and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhaktapur-shows-the-way-by-rebuilding-itself/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bhaktapur</a>, and this has depended a lot on the political will and community involvement to adhere to traditional building methods and materials.The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/righting-heritage-%20reconstruction-gone-wrong,3670" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">cohesiveness of the community</a> living in the historic core of the three cities has also determined the pace and accuracy of reconstruction after the 2015 earthquake.Since Bhaktapur and Lalitpur have retained much of the historic sense of community and have elected more accountable mayors, restoration there has gone much better than in Kathmandu.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114121112/637222d89c7e80680e0c031ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="750"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>For example, restoration work on the Trailokya-Mohan Narayan temple in Kathmandu is now complete. The plastered walls, wooden colonnade, cornices and tile roofs of the three-storey shrine on a five-stage brick plinth at Hanuman Dhoka have returned to their pre-2015 state.However, for specialists like German architect <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/love-of-heritage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Wolfgang Korn</a>, the restoration is not quite what it should be. He was surprised to see that the temple had been rebuilt with unpainted plaster that is Rana-style, and not Malla-era as it should be.“The struts in Malla-era temples are always carved, with the red dachi appa used as veneer bricks,” says historian Dinesh Raj Panta, according to whom the temple was originally built in the late 17th century by Parthivendra Malla, Pratap Malla’s son. This makes the white walls uncharacteristic.Restoration of the nearby Maju Dega is not yet complete, and scaffolds and green net cover the construction. Korn, who made detailed measurements of the temple in the 1970s (see accompanying piece, below) fears that Maju Dega will also repeat the mistakes on the Trailokya-Mohan Narayan.“The Department of Archaeology requires only traditional materials and methods be used in rebuilding these sites,” says Korn. “So, I ask myself why this Rana-style on a Malla-era temple? Where are the carved struts?”Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The history of heritage</a>, Ashish DhakalSanjeev Man Shrestha, who is a retired engineer with the Department of Archaeology (DoA) and was involved in the reconstruction of the Trailokya-Mohan temple, says that the verification of the rebuilt structure is in fact based on photographic evidence. And photos taken before 2015 show both temples with white plaster walls and, in the case of the Narayan temple, with some uncarved struts on the second and third tiers.“We do not know if it was indeed renovated previously,” Shrestha adds, “but we have used all original materials in the rebuilding wherever possible, even renovating the broken and cracked timber, and replacing with replicas where necessary.”Architect Amit Bajracharya at the Hanuman Dhoka Darbar Square Conservation Program says that 80% of the wooden windows, doors, pillars and struts were recovered after the earthquake and they have been used in the restoration.It could be that some of the temples in Kathmandu have been restored to their pre-2015 form, but this is not necessarily what they looked like before the 1934 earthquake. This has thrown up questions of how far back we should go when restoring a monument.Kathmandu has also seen geopolitical competition in restoration, with the Chinese helping rebuild the Hanuman Dhoka Palace, the Americans involved in the restoration of Gaddi Baithak, and the Japanese of other temples in the palace complex.Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandus-temple-restoration-after-1934-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> Kathmandu's temple restoration after 1934 earthquake</a>, Sahina Shrestha<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114121112/637222da9c7e80680e0c031bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Over in Bhaktapur, the town’s main gate was plastered white during the Rana-era. It was damaged again in 2015, but architects there have retired it to its Malla-era state with exposed bricks.“We wanted it to look traditional, keeping with how it must have appeared when it was built,” explains architect Ram Govinda Shrestha of Bhaktapur Municipality.Nearly all of Bhaktapur’s monuments damaged in 2015 have been restored because of active cooperation between the local communities and the municipality.Shrestha says the municipality used three approaches for renovation: by the community, by the municipality and through DoA contractors: “In all three approaches, the community was involved in supervision. Woodworkers, masons and craftspeople were also selected by the people, and the municipality helped with finding funds.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114121112/637222dd9c7e80680e0c031cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In Lalitpur, most renovation and rebuilding projects were undertaken through the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust (KVPT) with active community participation.Says KVPT’s Rohit Ranjitkar: “There was minimal bureaucracy, and the work was completed through coordination of the local government and the community. KVPT has also been working in Patan since 2008, which means that the locals trust us.”It is different in Kathmandu because it does not have the level of expertise that the other two cities of the Valley have, and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/rebuilding-kasthamandap-nepal,4012" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">community participation</a> is also not at the same level.“Kathmandu lacks the skilled artisans, and therefore is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/resurrecting-rani-pokhari-right/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">dependent upon Bhaktapur</a>,” admits Amit Bajracharya. “There is also less public participation or interest, as many locals in and around the old town have moved away.”Ranjitkar says this has meant that the people around the heritage sites in Kathmandu are not original residents but people who rent rooms or shops. “As fewer and fewer locals remain, there is also less and less ownership and engagement,” he adds.This has also meant that much of the rebuilding in Kathmandu is being done through the DoA’s bidding process, adding to the inaccuracy in restoration.For instance, the medieval Chilancho Chaitya in Kirtipur which was damaged in 2015 was quickly renovated by the DoA. But just a year later, a crack appeared from the finial to the dome.Read Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/rebuilding-kathmandu-after-the-1934-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> Rebuilding Kathmandu after the 1934 quake</a>, Alina BajracharyaEach rebuilding and renovation is particular to the monument, as there is not one such treatment for every building: but a contractor may not be aware of this. Indeed, the lowest bidder with experience in working mostly with concrete, and building modern houses and roads are involved in Kathmandu’s heritage restoration.“On top of lack of expertise and resources, this is also a result of a lack of forethought and patience,” explains Bharat Maharjan of Nepal Heritage Documentation Project. “Brick walls are different from concrete, sometimes it may take days between one layer and another, work may be paused because a decoration needs to be set. Each step is sensitive and significant. But when people don’t know much about heritage conservation, they don’t consider the quality of work, but only deadlines.”Further, there are also traditional dimensions to consider in a temple, and processes that are no longer practiced in residential buildings, but integral to heritage restoration.“With tender, it becomes overly bureaucratic, with a lot of interference,” says Bajracharya. “And the lowest bidder with no expertise in heritage conservation leads to inferior work and compromises to the structure and design.” However, he adds that workers and artisans involved in Hanuman Dhoka have been trained: “Even though it is the lowest bidder who gets the contract, we have tried to make the restoration as authentic as possible.”Sanjeev Man Shrestha agrees, saying that the DoA has its criteria when selecting the contractor, which takes into account their experience in working with wood, bricks and other traditional materials.But it may not always be possible to use traditional materials and practices. Korn believes that if the Malla architects had known of ways to make buildings even more structurally sound, they would have used them.While traditional practices, designs and methods should be preserved and utilised, Rohit Ranjitkar says that architects should also be pragmatic. In a few cases, modern elements, such as steel beams, have been used in Patan just to make the structures stronger.“We also have to think about our place in an earthquake-prone region and it is not prudent to blindly remake a structurally unsound temple or monument,” Ranjitkar adds. “We should also think about how we may improve a previously collapsed building so that more lives may be saved in time of the next disaster.”<h2>Measuring up to Kathmandu's heritage</h2><h5>Restoration of monuments is made easier because of scale drawings by a German architect done 50 years ago</h5>https://youtu.be/GOBtQaqQg0wWolfgang Korn leads the way up to the top floor of Lalit Heritage Hotel in Patan. Through the glass doors, the terrace opens almost like a stage for a view of Patan Darbar.Under the grey sky, the oblique roofs, red bricks and stone temples look restful, against rows of people on benches. Among the scaffolds, spires and baked tiles, the two-tiered Char Narayan Temple stands out.This is one of many monuments of Kathmandu Valley that Korn surveyed in 1970, producing detailed drawings.Born in Dessau in what was then East Germany, Korn first arrived in Nepal when he was 25 in 1968. Having studied architecture, he had applied for a German Development Service project in West Africa. They asked him if he would like to go to Nepal instead.He was fascinated by his first walk around Kathmandu past gods and goddesses, quaint brick houses along narrow streets, wood carvings and stone monuments.Korn worked for the Physical Planning Section of the government designing the office buildings. There, he met architect <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/taragaon-museum-boudha,1609" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Carl Pruscha</a> who was then mapping out two Ring Roads to give Kathmandu an urban plan for future growth, and started surveying sacred sites.“It is important to know where the heritage sites are when one plans a town,” explains Korn. “Very often, I went alone with the driver, as people in the government did not want to leave their office.”This work brought him closer to the ancient Newa architecture of Kathmandu Valley that used wood and bricks to create a highly structured network of urban buildings and open spaces.“I am not a historian or a researcher but a curious craftsman,” says Korn, recalling how he climbed into the shrines to measure, collect and draw cross-sections.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114121112/637222df9c7e80680e0c031djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Once in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/ancient-panautis-french-connection/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Panauti</a>, he had to convert to Hinduism for 17 minutes to study the damage to the Indresvar Temple.“I was staring up at the carvings when the pujari came over and asked what I was doing,” recounts Korn. “When I explained to him my profession, he asked me my opinion regarding the topmost, third tier of the temple that was leaning to one side.”When Korn said that he would not be able to say much from the ground, the priest brought out a copper plate with flowers, vermilion and rice grain. He then started chanting a prayer, sprinkled water and put a red tika on Korn's forehead, declaring him a temporary Hindu so he could enter the sanctorum to study it.Keeping to the walls, Korn climbed up to the topmost tier, made some quick pencil sketches, and came down covered in dust and pigeon muck. He briefed the priest about the kind of repairs needed, after which he performed the ceremony in reverse, wiping the tika off his forehead, and restored Korn back to Christianity.The experience at Indresvar also confirmed to Korn that the Valley's temples were historically two-tiered, and the third roof was often a later addition.Between 1970 and 1977, Korn prepared scaled drawings of many structures, including the Indra Sattal in Bhaktapur, Kasthamandap, Lakshmi-Narayan Sattal, Chusya Baha in Kathmandu, and Char Narayan Temple in Patan.After an extensive survey of Pujari Math in Bhaktapur in 1971 and 1972, Korn embarked solo on the Temple Catalogue Project to prepare an inventory of all tiered temples of the Valley with a photographic catalogue and typologies.His later work with the Hanuman Dhoka Renovation Project in 1973 and private documentation of temples, monasteries, falcha, private houses, carved windows, led to the publication of the first book on Newa architecture, <a href="https://archive.org/details/TraditionalArchitectureOfTheKathmanduValleyByWolfgangKorn_201712" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Traditional Architecture of the Kathmandu Valley</a>, in 1976.After the 2015 earthquake destroyed many historical monuments in the Valley, Korn’s detailed scale drawings of the Maju Dega, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/resurrecting-kasthamandap-from-the-rubble/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kasthamandap</a>, Char Narayan and Vatsala Temple have been instrumental in their accurate restoration.Despite this, Korn is not happy about the haphazard urbanisation of Kathmandu Valley, especially post-2015. He was surprised by the restoration of the Malla-era Trailokya Mohan Narayan Temple in Kathmandu where the walls have been plastered and painted white in the Rana-era style. The same methods are being used in rebuilding Maju Dega, another Malla-era temple dating back to 1692, of which Korn had also taken detailed measurements 50 years ago.“It looks like the contractor wanted to save money and got away with it,” Korn says, shaking his head.He believes rebuilding heritage sites should never be given to the lowest bidder, especially when they know nothing about struts, carvings and dimensions.“To rebuild heritage, you need architects who understand the specific materials traditionally used, such as dachi appa in Newa buildings,” he says.These rejections of standard building practices are perhaps the reason why the Valley’s towns look the way they do today: residences, offices blocks and view towers rising in a babble of concrete and steel.Fortunately, the dramatic transformation of the Valley has not deterred Korn’s caring and curious spirit. He has been visiting Nepal several weeks a year to work with the Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust (KVPT) on renovations at Patan Darbar Square.He also lectures to Nepali architecture students, inspiring a new generation to care about heritage. “Because,” he adds, “you kill the past by not caring.”

Ashish Dhakal

A tale of three cities

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

There is nothing like an election to focus the minds of politicians. So, with less than three months to go for the 5 March political parties both new and &nbsp;old are in full preparation mode.&nbsp; The UML and the NC are following a two-pronged strategy: filing separate writ petitions in the Supreme Court for the reinstatement of the House even as they prepare for their general convention to decide on tickets for candidates. election. Following the alliance of Nepal’s left-aligned parties into the new Nepali Communist Party, the RSP and Bibeksheel parties have also joined forces. “Old political parties that were supposed to defend democracy are themselves hegemonic, oligarchic, and exclusive, and patriarchal, and the only strong voices inside political parties seem to be coming from women like Binda Pandey, Usha Kiran Timilsina and Sumana Shrestha,” says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal.&nbsp; She adds: “These parties are responsible for Nepal’s political decay, and there is little hope they will mend their rent-seeking ways and become more democratic and egalitarian.” The new post-September political parties are trying to change that perception by projecting themselves as reform minded and clean, and navigating the dynamics of election preparation. There are over 800,000 new young voters, and their ballots will be a key determinant in the outcome in March. Only a few youth leaders have formed their own parties, others are trying to decide which party to team up with. Others have partnered with career politicians who left their mainstream outfits out of frustration with their leaders.&nbsp; “The newly-formed parties are relatively more inclusive, but they are also led by strongmen,” says Pyakuryal. “It remains to be seen how long we can sustain democracy if our only choices are these personalities.”&nbsp; Activist Ojaswee Bhattarai is part of the five-member chair council of the Pragatishil Loktantrik Party launched by former Maoists Baburam Bhattarai and Janardan Sharma. Other members in the council include youth leader Ashok Jaiswal, Durga Sob, formerly of the Nepal Samajwadi Party, former RSP chief whip Pariyar, and another ex-Maoist leader and minister Sudan Kirati.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211151216_fe46c9dde8ca8680a2264e9cb3340cd005d2f1464e2893b99121cab2cdd99e6b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211151216_fe46c9dde8ca8680a2264e9cb3340cd005d2f1464e2893b99121cab2cdd99e6b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ government agreement"> </figure>  Bhattarai told a roundtable last week: “The movement exposed youth exclusion from decision making and resistance of political leaders, who themselves have been part of Nepali politics since their youth, to make space for a new generation.”&nbsp; She added: “It is now crucial for young people to come forward and seek leadership positions, and take part in a process that has so far been limited to the political elite.” It remains to be seen whether seniors in politics want to genuinely do a better job, or if they are simply looking for opportunities that were denied them in their old parties.&nbsp; And not everyone is happy with older leaders pretending that they are with the youth.&nbsp; Janardan Sharma, who left the Maoists after falling out with his former comrade Pushpa Kamal Dahal was heckled this &nbsp;week in his home district of Rukum West. Although there is a youth wave, the three mainstream parties still have their ballot banks among older rural voters. And even in the cities, the disparate new parties and young candidates may dilute the vote allowing the established parties to retain their foothold.&nbsp; Without a clear agenda, ideology, and institutional know-how, the new parties either risk being a flash in the pan or lose momentum after initial success.&nbsp; “There is a huge opportunity for these new parties to onboard young political figures to push the agendas of young and marginalised Nepalis,” says Pyakuryal. “These new parties will also have a better chances in the polls if they unite under a single banner.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211151216_8126915535a657004bf730b4df98096d1dbaea26959160614b121a96bc660d1c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251211151216_8126915535a657004bf730b4df98096d1dbaea26959160614b121a96bc660d1c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ government agreement"> </figure>  Former RSP minister Sumana Shrestha is yet to join any political party, but was present at the launch of the Ujyalo Party last week. She also urged new political actors emerging from the September movement to unite.&nbsp; “Not working together will be like rolling out the red carpet for old parties,” she said. There is anticipation about what plans Shrestha and Kathmandu mayor Balen Shah. Also closely watched are emergent figures like Birendra Basnet of Buddha Air, who may be keeping his options open for candidacy through the &nbsp;Gatishil Loktantrik Party he recently formed.&nbsp; Basnet has put forward a strategy to overhaul the aviation sector as a metaphor for a new vision so Nepal can take off &nbsp;in future.&nbsp; Kulman Ghising has faced some criticism for launching his Ujyalo party while still serving in the interim Cabinet. He is reportedly planning to resign as the election approaches to declare his candidacy.&nbsp; Says Pyakurel: “Any new leader who contests the election needs to have political acumen as well as a strong sense of responsibility and ethical accountability, not just charisma. They will need to approach Nepal’s socio-political and economic needs in a more technical, less political manner as they put forward their ideas of reforms before voters.”&nbsp;