<h2>“My brother died right in front of my eyes”</h2> - Dhanu Bishwakarma  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401110456_de4a04720790ed70067d7ad74a16b72cee179e99e85fb78a093edadd592be5a0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250401110456_de4a04720790ed70067d7ad74a16b72cee179e99e85fb78a093edadd592be5a0" data-rendition-name="original" width="640" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Suresh Rajak"> <figcaption>Avenues TV journalist Suresh Rajak, who died last Friday as he was filming the pro-monarchy protests from a building that was eventually set on fire by royalist rioters.</figcaption> </figure>  Sujani Magiya was busy preparing for a family gathering that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/republicans-and-royalists-on-nepal-s-streets">fateful Friday</a> at her home in Chandragiri as her husband, television journalist Suresh Rajak, got ready to head to work.&nbsp; Sujani reminded him to be home early for the get-together. “I’ll come back early,” Suresh promised and left to cover the royalist rally at Tinkune.&nbsp; As confrontation between riot police and demonstrators unfolded, he had climbed up an office building for a vantage point to film the events below. Just then, some in the crowd shouted that there were police on the roof of the building and started stoning the green glass façade.&nbsp; Suresh was last photographed filming through the broken windows, and kept on filming even as the rioters set fire to the building after blocking the front door. Suresh was either asphyxiated or was burned to death. His body was discovered hours later. Back in Kirtipur, Sujani was too busy preparing dinner for the family gathering to check her phone, and was unaware of what was happening across town.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401120416_60a4b7e5ceb0cd6879f6682013f365f26562154025821ec29a8e9322f448e29b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250401120416_60a4b7e5ceb0cd6879f6682013f365f26562154025821ec29a8e9322f448e29b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Suresh Rajak Family"> <figcaption>Ramesh Rajak (left) and Dinesh Rajak, older brothers of Suresh Rajak. Dinesh and Suresh, both video journalists, were covering the protests for their respective media outlets. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  When she finally saw the news, she dialled her husband’s number but his phone was switched off. The rest of the family had already heard that Suresh was dead, but did not have the heart to break the news to his wife. “My brother-in-law told me around 6PM that my husband had met with an accident and had been taken to hospital,” Sujani recalled. “They stopped me from going to the hospital.”&nbsp; She feared the worst, and prayed fervently. It was on Saturday evening that she finally got confirmation that her husband had lost his life. Her tears have not stopped since. “I have lost everything,” she told us, weeping. Suresh was the youngest of four siblings, and the family could not afford to send him to college. The eldest brother Ramesh took care of the brothers, but his police job did not pay enough.&nbsp; Suresh migrated to Malaysia to work for two years to supplement the family income. He came back after his mother died, and his other brother Dinesh, who is a video journalist with Lokpath, suggested that he also get a job as a reporter. He had been a video journalist at Avenues TV for the past seven years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401110452_22ab2d4c9652aeb5007db4b69d07b15e24d5b70a6b0b7e60c07141c1b3f537c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250401110452_22ab2d4c9652aeb5007db4b69d07b15e24d5b70a6b0b7e60c07141c1b3f537c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="579" loading="lazy" alt="Building set on fire by protestors in Tinkune"> <figcaption>Suresh Rajak was seen filming the protests from this building shortly before it was set on fire. His body was found hours later. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Dinesh and Suresh left home together on 28 March to cover the pro- and anti- monarchy rallies and had agreed to be home early for dinner. Dinesh reached Tinkune as the royalists were gathering, but was too busy to look for his brother.&nbsp; At around 4PM, when he was filming the building that had been set alight, a colleague informed that there was a reporter trapped inside. Dinesh immediately dialled his brother’s phone, but could not reach him.&nbsp; Dinesh stood frozen as the rioters swirled and shouted around him, unable to get ahold of his brother. No one, including Suresh’s film crew knew where he was. He called hospitals with no avail, and that was when Dinesh felt the journalist in the burning building could be his brother. “I had been filming the very house that my brother was burned to death in,” he said, weeping. “I will never be able to forget that.” Dinesh has not been able to face his sister-in-law because he has no answers to the questions she might have. Suresh and Sujani had got married seven years ago after a long-term relationship. She had been with him through much of his journalism career, and was increasingly frustrated that he was often required to work overtime. Suresh dismissed her worries.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401110452_a74962b765a26e9046ddd4a9fa920a5d02d9cf43cf4fd6df361ba4723ec4c97d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250401110452_a74962b765a26e9046ddd4a9fa920a5d02d9cf43cf4fd6df361ba4723ec4c97d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1024" height="683" loading="lazy" alt="Suresh Rajak receiving award"> <figcaption>Suresh Rajak was the 2022 recipient of the Hem-Sunil Risky Journalism award.</figcaption> </figure>  He had been injured once before while filming anti-MCC protests in Baneswor three years ago. “I had asked him to quit his job back then, but he would not listen,” Sujani recalls. Dinesh says that his brother would often take risks to take exclusive photos and videos. He was well regarded by colleagues for his passion for reporting, and was the 2022 recipient of the Hem-Sunil Risky Journalism award. His body is still at Teaching Hospital, and his family met the prime minister on Monday and demanded that he be eligible for a martyr’s compensation, and to punish those who set fire to the building. The Federation of Nepalese Journalists (FNJ) has organised memorials nationwide for Suresh and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-deja-vu-on-black-friday">condemned the various attacks on Nepal’s media and press institutions</a> during Friday’s protests. Dinesh says that while the rioters were guilty of setting fire to the building, he faulted the police for not helping rescue his brother even when repeatedly told that there was a reporter inside. He says, “Had they gone to that building, my brother’s life could have been saved.” <h2>The last time Sabin left home</h2> - Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401120416_12ba007525d427fb9136ad20da45c28e71e397089efc23c1a70ed66d022240d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250401120416_12ba007525d427fb9136ad20da45c28e71e397089efc23c1a70ed66d022240d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1343" loading="lazy" alt="Sabin Maharjan"> <figcaption>Sabin Maharjan had left his house on Friday telling his wife he was going to pick up his vehicle from the garage. His family does not know how he ended up at the pro-monarchy demonstration in Tinkune, where he was shot to death after police fired live rounds to disperse protestors.</figcaption> </figure>  There may have been a few thousand pro-monarchist demonstrators at Tinkune on 28 March. But many of those caught up in the melee were either bystanders, or walking past to get to their destinations because there was no public transport. There are at least a dozen people in hospitals across Kathmandu being treated for bullet wounds who were not protesters, but were hit when the police resorted to live rounds to disperse the angry crowds on an arson rampage. One of them was Sabin Maharjan, 29, from Kirtipur who drove a public van on the Hetauda-Kathmandu route. He left home that morning telling his wife Bhavisha Thakuri Malla that he was going to pick up his vehicle from a garage.&nbsp; Sabin was passionate about driving, and had learnt to drive at the age of 14. He met Bhavisha in Hetauda and got married in 2016. He would often stay nights in Hetauda unless his vehicle needed repairs, in which case he drove back to Kathmandu. Last Wednesday, Sabin had come back to Kathmandu in the evening after spending a week in Hetauda, leaving his Tata Sumo at a garage in Balkhu for repairs before heading home to Kirtipur.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250401120420_52efc283b4578b8e951fb695d81d8967e5cdf52e39326db82854c76d1e97cdc1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250401120420_52efc283b4578b8e951fb695d81d8967e5cdf52e39326db82854c76d1e97cdc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Bhavisha, Sabin's wife"> <figcaption>Sabin's wife Bhavisha Thakuri Malla. The couple have a seven-year-old daughter. Photos: ANITA BHETWAL</figcaption> </figure>  Relatives and co-workers say they have no idea why a man who had said he was going to pick up his van from the garage had ended up across town at a violent protest. “Maybe someone took him to Tinkune from the garage, or he could have gone there for some other work,” Bhavisha says, her voice breaking.&nbsp; Bhavisha was doing her chores with her daughter when she got a call from TU Teaching Hospital. She rushed to Maharajganj, but was informed that Sabin had died.&nbsp; Bhavisha stares listlessly at her daughter Subisa beside her, as mourners file into the room to offer words of consolation. “The bullet wound was on the left side of his chest, he must have died instantly, without knowing what hit him,” she says. “Those here ask what they can do for me. Can they bring my husband back?” Relatives say Sabin had no interest in politics, and had never joined any political rally. The only time he left home was to drive his van.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025040112040_be268599be04b0738465410af93f93938c6ac5206355edd7c3938b7b7c610abf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025040112040_be268599be04b0738465410af93f93938c6ac5206355edd7c3938b7b7c610abf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="894" loading="lazy" alt="Sabin Maharjan"> <figcaption>Mourners have gathered for the last few days to pay respects at Sabin Maharjan's house in Kirtipur.</figcaption> </figure>  Bikash Maharjan raised his nephew, Sabin, since he was five after his mother’s death and father’s remarriage. He says: “Sabin was not the least bit interested in politics. We just cannot understand what took him to Tinkune.” Family and neighbours were not the only ones at Sabin’s house in Kirtipur to offer condolences. There were some participants from the pro-monarchy protests, as well as government representatives.&nbsp; But Bhavisha has no interest in meeting them. “I do not know what this protest was for. All I know is that if it had been peaceful, this would never have happened.” Bikash Maharjan, Sabin's uncle, says his death should not be exploited by any political side for propaganda purposes. “We are ordinary people, we do not want anyone to use the name of the son we have lost for any political purpose.”&nbsp; “Since Sabin cannot take care of his family now, it is up to the government to support them,” he adds.

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A Tale of Two Deaths

The Kangchenjunga Trek in far-eastern Nepal is a remote and less-crowded adventure that offers raw wilderness, diverse cultures, and breathtaking terrain below the world’s third highest mountain. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) grabbed the world’s attention before Mt Everest ever did because its imposing rampart dominated the northern horizon from Darjeeling, the summer refuge for the British in India. The Kangchenjunga massif is more a mountain range rather than a peak, its high ridge stretching 25km from Nepal to Sikkim.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c" data-rendition-name="original" width="938" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga trail map"></figure>  Sikkim considers the mountain sacred, and has banned mountaineering expeditions. But the various prominences of Kangchenjunga are increasingly popular for climbers via the north face in Nepal. For non-mountaineers, even the Kangchenjunga trek can be arduous, especially in winter. It is one of the last pure wilderness areas in Nepal, traversing sparsely populated valleys that are rich in biodiversity because of the high annual rainfall. Even when Nepal was a forbidden land, among the first foreign visitors was British botanist J D Hooker who explored the Nepal side of Kangchenjunga in 1850 to collect plant samples. The peak was first climbed in 1955, two years after the first ascent of Mt Everest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The establishment of Kangchenjunga Conservation Area in September 2006 was accompanied by tragedy when 24 people, including Nepal’s nature preservation pioneers were killed in a helicopter crash. The Conservation Area is now the only one managed completely by the local indigenous people. It has 70 varieties of orchids, 30 rhododendron types, and 15 out of 28 endemic plants of Nepal. Kangchenjunga still gets very few of the 200,000 foreign trekkers who visit Nepal every year, but improved road access in recent years is making it more popular. Trekkers have a choice of exploring the North Base Camp (Pangpema) or the South Base Camp (Yalung Glacier), or combine both for the full Kangchenjunga Circuit (map). This trek is considered strenuous, with long walking days, high altitude, and tea house accommodation that is much more basic than the Everest or Annapurna regions. Trekkers have to be fit and with prior hiking experience. Most teams take tents and camp, and carry most of their food.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  FULL CIRCUIT Because the region is restricted, trekkers must obtain a permit and be accompanied by a licensed guide. A full circuit can take three weeks, while doing only the North or South Base Camps will take two weeks, including flying from Kathmandu to Bhadrapur and jeep to Taplejung or a rough trail to Hellok. The lower forested stretches are teeming with wildlife, and this is red panda and snow leopard country. The streams and ponds have amphibians and reptiles, some of which have not yet even been classified. The route also passes the homelands of the Limbu, Rai and Tibetan communities with the local culture and architecture more intact than in most other mountain areas of Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The best seasons to trek are spring (March–May) and autumn (September–November). There are fewer trekkers and climbers in winter, and many of the birds and wildlife have migrated down to warmer climes. Despite its beauty, trekkers should be prepared for challenges like long distances between villages, unpredictable weather, and limited emergency rescue options due to the remoteness of the area — all even more challenging in winter. Norbu Lama is an international hiking guide with www.dolpocaravantreks.com and just returned after leading a trek to Kangchenjunga Base Camps.

Kangchenjunga in winter

Ancient heritage meets dern distillery craft as the US-based The Nepali Spirit Company this month makes its global debut with Kathmandu Ayla. Inspired by Nepal’s ancient rice whiskey tradition, the product is the first of four handcrafted spirits that brings Kathmandu Valley’s 1,000-year-old ayla tradition to the world stage. “The first four products combine history, culture, and tradition and it has taken eight years to get to this launch point,” says CEO of The Nepal Spirit Company Kashish Das Shrestha, who is also publishing a book on the history of alcohol in Nepali culture. The other three ayla products are Masala Whiskey aged in Brazilian Amburana casks and spiced with black cardamom from Nepal, Annapurna Ayla, and Haku Chaku Himalayan Espresso Liqueur made with organic Nepali coffee, and chaku (dark molasses).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141244_ab74945dc60ce5ff83fe7a88596fc032c18705e7cda9dc62df21694d3ad83b85.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251216141244_ab74945dc60ce5ff83fe7a88596fc032c18705e7cda9dc62df21694d3ad83b85" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>  “I started visiting international whiskey auctions six years ago and after reading about distilling, my passion for spirits grew, and I felt the urge to tell the story of Nepal’s heritage spirits to the world,” explains Shrestha. Once poured in Nepal’s royal courts, ayla is a clear rice whiskey that is a millennia-old living heritage of Kathmandu used in rituals from birth to death and traditional life milestones of its inhabitants. Ayla is distilled to capture the classic aromas and flavors, with a soft sweet after taste. It can be enjoyed neat, sipped through meals, or enjoyed as shots. With more than 15% of Nepal’s population living and working abroad, there is a cultural demand for ayla in the diaspora from Asan to Amstredam to Australia.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216121236_0db0ec396832736fef60b636d7012a917be65471408c81383a40613f928f9e78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251216121236_0db0ec396832736fef60b636d7012a917be65471408c81383a40613f928f9e78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1270" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141236_a84ede74c67a61e75af2f0cc1c985b4d04ff2292c6bd0bd0b841f4d2c7b593aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251216141236_a84ede74c67a61e75af2f0cc1c985b4d04ff2292c6bd0bd0b841f4d2c7b593aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;“We also believe ayla is a wonderful way to tell Nepal’s story to the world,” says Lilu KC Shrestha, Chief Operating Officer of the company. “We intend to use our platform to promote Nepal in any way we can, and also find ways to give back to the country. It was high time a world-class Nepali spirits brand entered the global market, and we are proud to take the lead.” Aside from the ayla itself, the bottle and packaging was conceived by New York-based designer Sahara Shrestha to reflect a complete Nepaliness. “Each bottle and box is a love letter to Nepal, and every detail is an expression of respect and appreciation of Nepali heritage and our desire to share it with the world,” says Kashish Das Shrestha. “And ayla itself is a sacred part of our culture, so we wanted to make sure the bottle reflects this reverence.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141244_d2746204c64802ff81453d7a8749f516bf3c62538fe3c98400a9b3978c03b273.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251216141244_d2746204c64802ff81453d7a8749f516bf3c62538fe3c98400a9b3978c03b273" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1475" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> <figcaption>Aylarita</figcaption> </figure>  The bottom of each bottle has an embossed Mandala representing the universe and its interconnectedness. A glass molding of Himalayan peaks Chomolungma and Nuptse signifies the earth and heaven. The bottle cap is a black and gold rendering of the metal plates that hang from Kathmandu’s temples. The logo of The Nepali Spirit Company is also inspired by the unti, a traditional vessel used to pour ayla. While its top is typically adorned with a peacock, the company’s design replaces it with rice stalks. This motif is also on the label of Annapurna Whiskey named in honour of both the mountain and the goddess, the giver of grain. For a new take, ayla can be paired with a lime wedge lathered in honey, cumin, and salt, or on the glass rim. It can also be mixed into cocktails to make Aylarita, Aylatini, or Aylapolitan. <a href="http://www.thenepalispirit.com/" target="_blank">www.thenepalispirit.com</a>, @TheNepaliSpirit

The American Ayla

When Winston Churchill addressed the Canadian Parliament in December 1941, he recalled that generals of Nazi-occupied France had said that England would “have her neck wrung like a chicken”. Churchill went on to quip: “Some chicken.” As the laughter and applause subsided, he added: “Some neck.” (Even longer laughter and applause) We do not know who first started calling the narrow corridor that joins India to its northeastern states a 'Chicken’s Neck', but there also was the hint of a Churcillian connotation. Akhilesh Upadhayay in his new book In the Margins of the Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck, uses this strip as an entry point to explore a region adjoining Nepal, Bhutan, China, Sikkim, Darjeeling, India’s northeast and the tectonics that shaped its geo-strategic terrain.&nbsp; Upadhyay’s Chicken Neck is an organic whole, connected through centuries by transboundary traders, travellers, monks, spies, missionaries, mountaineers, and more. And as infrastructure and connectivity improves, smaller countries like Nepal and Bhutan (and earlier Sikkim) are caught up in the region’s rivalries. The tri-junction of the Chicken’s Neck is a potential flashpoint that has obsessed India’s military strategists ever since Partition in 1947 and the formation of East Pakistan, and the Chinese annexation of Tibet. India found itself squeezed between Chumbi Valley in China to the north and Pakistan to the south. So, when Sikkim started acting too independent for its own good 50 years ago, India engineered its annexation and turned it into its 22nd state. The 1962 Sino-Indian war elevated its strategic importance even more. Alarm bells ring in New Delhi each time there is trouble around the Chicken’s Neck: the Naxalite uprising had to be swiftly crushed, the Indian military moved in to liberate Bangladesh, Gorkhaland and ULFA activities were dangerously nearby, Bhutan had to be appeased. Every once in a while things would flare up between India and China, as in the 2017 Doklam standoff.&nbsp; And last year’s regime change in Bangladesh has rattled New Delhi enough to deploy its Rafael fighters and BrahMos cruise missiles in the Chicken’s Neck. It is now the most densely militarised strip of real estate in this part of the world. &nbsp; As a journalist and former editor of Kathmandu Post, Upadhyay also peers at the Chicken’s Neck through Nepal’s perspective. After all, Jhapa (where the author is originally from) sits right there astride India’s strategic lifeline.&nbsp; Geopolitics is at the front and centre of the book that takes readers back to the time Nepal was a closed Himalayan kingdom.&nbsp; Nepal may be a yam between two boulders, but it may just as well be a thicker Chicken’s Neck as far as New Delhi and Beijing are concerned. Nepal’s rulers have always had to walk the tightrope between China and India. Khampa guerrillas, covertly helped by American and Indian intelligence, raided Chinese military convoys from bases in Nepal, and King Mahendra had to do some intricate diplomatic footwork. India is often described as Nepal’s closest friend, but our relations with China go back as long in terms of the Lhasa trade, Bhrikuti and Arniko, religious exchanges and people-to-people relations. While Nepali researchers are wary of touching on Chinese, Indian or American sensitivities, Upadhyay’s journalistic background means he has no qualms about tackling the subject head-on, and objectively. He spent more than a year researching the book, sniffing around Siliguri, Bagdogra, Naxalbari, Darjeeling and the villages on the Jhapa side. Then he travelled to Olangchung Gola to listen to ordinary people of the Himalayan rimlands. Despite the perception about rigid frontiers between nation states, the book hints at how absurd the notion is. The Chicken’s Neck is also a wild elephant migration corridor, disturbed by the India-Bangladesh border fence, new expressway embankments, airport runways, and expanding cities. Similarly, the people on the Nepal-tibet border used to cross over to graze yaks — this expanded the gene pools of not just the yaks but also the nomadic humans who moved with the herds.&nbsp; Despite the hard borders, trade flourishes. Upadhyay marvels that a shop in Phungling in Taplejung has embroidered saris from Siliguri and fluffy jackets from China. he finds that residents in the northeastern and southeastern tips of Nepal have more in common with kin across the border in Tibet or India than with someone from Kathmandu. Nepal was once one of the biggest trade hubs in ancient times, and our products were treated as equals in Indian border cities. People too, could move freely, especially if they were and are from bordering Tarai cities.&nbsp; Nepal’s rich history and culture was shaped by the proximity to neighbours, and despite borders it is still cemented by marriages and trade — especially in the Nepali-speaking lands to the east. Its geographical positioning makes Nepal not landlocked but land-linked, adjacent to the largest emerging economies of the world. Nepal needs to deploy its soft power with effective diplomacy to take advantage of these two empires, and not be choked by their rivalry. The book was going to press when the GenZ protests ignited in September, but Upadhyay nevertheless managed to insert the current political transition into the pages with deft editing. &nbsp;The final section of the book examines at least three possible scenarios that may unfold as South Asia continues to be shaped by great power rivalries and imperial contests that have weakened the unilateral influence of the west.&nbsp; Akhilesh Upadhyay extrapolates from the Chicken’s Neck, zooming out for a wider perspective on the Subcontinent. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121912124_0ae772e7736a65f53a99599b5724ca133a64fdea0e61c7170ea81f9dd95c7af0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="In the Margins of Empires: A History of the Chicken’s Neck NT"> </figure>

Some chicken, some neck

This is the first instalment of our new series Nepal Made, where we profile world-class Nepali products and the people behind them. The Himalaya is the home to Ayurveda, the preventive and curative medicinal practice that relies on the tremendous diversity of plant life. This is where Hanuman is said to have come to find a specific rare herb when Ram was wounded in battle. When he could not find it, he tore off a whole mountain and hauled it down to Lanka. Since then, herbal medicines and care products have been steadily modernised in India and Nepal. Now, one Kathmandu-based company, Herveda, is going global with an all-natural skincare brand that blends traditional knowledge of medicinal plants with modern technology. Originally a Sanskrit word, Ayurveda literally means ‘the science of life’ and promotes physical and mental wellbeing through a holistic knowledge system that is 4,000 years old. Ayurvedic products have gotten more popular as global demand rises for all-natural, chemical-free cosmetic and wellness products, instead of wasteful fast fashion and beauty trends. Herveda was founded by Prativa Pandey, a scientist-entrepreneur and mother of two. She did her PhD in nanotechnology chemistry from Northwestern University in the United States and returned to Nepal in 2015 after the earthquake, staying back to explore the market and launch her brand.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251218141216_b699e74ee82333951b99b22648705dc916deb8eef3d425c77c1e2f3b1058a64d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  “I wanted to do something in Nepal, but didn’t want to be a doctor or engineer,” says Pandey at the elegant Herveda showroom in Jhamsikhel. “Whatever knowledge that I had gathered, I wanted to spread it in my own country.” Nepal is rich in traditional medicinal herbs and Ayurvedic plants, but proper utilisation and mobilisation has always been lagging. Most of the benefits are reaped by large companies and not local farmers. Pandey wanted to change that. To ensure that it gives back to the community, Herveda collaborates with farmers and local traders for fair trade. “I have always been fascinated by the medicinal herbs found in Nepal, and wanted to create high value products with them. It was a way to combine valuable indigenous knowledge with my academic research background,” adds Pandey. “I did not require a huge investment, just a proper marketing strategy.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251218141216_350f6eb1511523ea54a8aba468f20a7dffcb5def3fade4dcced30324417f83bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  According to the Trade and Promotion Center under the Ministry of Industry, Nepal’s import of cosmetic products is increasing every year, driven by demand from a younger population. These younger customers are also more conscious about the products they use. For brands like Herveda, it is important that customers engage in wellness and skincare in an ethical and sustainable manner. Apart from being all natural, Herveda’s flagship store in Jhamsikhel has a reuse box where consumers can drop used bottles, which are then recycled. The store also displays products from 35 local businesses. Pandey believes that Nepali brands should cross-promote and complement each other: “Rather than competing, I believe we should support each other. 1+1 can be 11, and not two.” Effectiveness and functionality hold great importance for Herveda. which employs 25 scientists to develop and lab test its products at its research institute. Currently, there are products ranging from Rs400-2,000, which include lip balms, serums, and essential oils. A signature product is the Berry Boost Radiance Mask, which contains Spikenard (Jatamansi), Ashwagandha, Orange Peel, and Rhododendron.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251218141216_7ec1104e0dd63db2fbbfe666034b468fe5b7e6876fde8b5446cb9d9fe27566cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Looking good by doing good NT"></figure>  Herveda exports to the United States and plans to expand to China and Europe. The products get a 50-100% markup in the international market. The company recently received a grant from UKAid to expand the market as well as build capacity to scale up. It has partnered with Agriplayer software to help to develop QR codes on its products, which consumers will be able to scan to track the product sources and evaluate pricing. Nepal lags behind in rules and regulations, and the lack of monitoring has allowed low quality cosmetic products to penetrate into the market. Herveda has got an international certification from USFTA, which is important for its foray into the export market. “For the cosmetic industry to scale up, there should be a central testing facility that is well equipped and meets international standards. Additionally, export should be made easy,” adds Pandey. “If there are too many barriers to entry, no one will be willing to invest.”

royalist-movement

A Tale of Two Deaths

Kangchenjunga in winter

The American Ayla

Some chicken, some neck

Looking good by doing good