<figure><img width="1280" height="588" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be7769c7e80680e087800jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photos: JEROME EDOU</figcaption></figure>Jerome Edou’s monochrome ink exhibition A Single Brushstroke marks the first physical exhibition at Siddhartha Art Gallery in nine months. Nepali Times got a glimpse as Edou and director/curator Sangeeta Thapa were busy making final preparations ahead of its opening on 11 December.Chan paintings or Zen in Japanese, are inspired by the Chinese Contemplative Buddhist Chan school and are characterised by the Qi—the Sanskrit prana that means vital energy— the simplicity, the suggestion, and the emptiness of life and nature. With only a few brushstrokes, Chan painters seek to express the inspiration of nature through their paintings rather than imitating and reproducing nature, or delving into much detail and technicality. The lack of colours plays into the simplicity of the painting, as the monochrome style removes all noises from the artwork. Painters use a lot of empty space to visually express the silence of nature.Chan painters use Chinese paper, water, ink, and about 10 different brushes—made from different animal hair. “Brushes made from goat hair are almost watery and not very strong, unlike those made from the hair of wild horses,” says Edou. Chan painters also make their own ink, which the Chinese papers absorb very quickly. “It’s a complicated process,” he adds. <figure><img width="1280" height="764" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be7789c7e80680e087801jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>There is no discernible style or theme to Edou’s paintings—he paints brooding cliffs, beautiful flowers, sprawling landscapes. An entire wall is dedicated to bamboo paintings. Bamboo shoot contains a fragment of the universe, say a couple of his paintings. In fact, bamboo is an integral part of training in Chan paintings. “In Zen painting, the bamboo is really the first exercise that shows the subtlety, simplicity, and the resilience of life. Some painters have been doing bamboo all their lives. I love it because it has a certain magnificence and simplicity to it,” says Edou. “Before moving up to birds, or landscape, you constantly paint what we call the Four Gentlemen, which are chrysanthemum, bamboo, plum trees, and orchids.” <img width="608" height="1280" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be77b9c7e80680e087802jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figure><img width="1000" height="1119" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be77d9c7e80680e087803jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Years worth of work are on display across two floors of the gallery. Edou jokes that it took him 15 years, as well as 10 minutes to complete all his paintings. “15 years of practice and 10 minutes to actually do the painting, the paintings themselves are done very quickly, but they require extensive training.” he explains.Edou studied Buddhism intensively and is a translator of Tibetan texts and teachings. But hadn’t delved into paintings until he was 55 when discovered Chan paintings by chance in France as he was exploring Chinese calligraphy. For the next 10 years, he learned to make Chan paintings at the International Academy of Ink Painting in South France. After graduating in 2018, he began teaching ink painting himself. A symbol stamped in red is striking against the minimalist, contemplative, sometimes bleak monochrome of Edou’s paintings. It is his seal, inspired from an 11th century Chinese practice. He has added calligraphy too in some of his works. He has built his crevice of a rock, his mind is at large, says one artwork—a Chen saying in western calligraphy. Going to see the silence—another one says in French. “I was trying to see if it works, and if there is a style to be found there,” he adds.One of the paintings that he did at the academy has seven seals, put there by his friends and teachers. “It was partly a joke, but it was also recognition of our achievements that we put in each other’s paintings,” he notes. <img width="1000" height="1792" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be7809c7e80680e087804jpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="1000" height="1103" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181144/636be7839c7e80680e087805jpeg.jpg" alt="">But why aren’t the seals stamped to the back of the painting instead of the front? Edou smiles and thinks for a moment. “For that I have no answer,” he says. “For one thing, the seals become a part of the painting, and for another, the precise pattern makes a contrast to the suggestive nature of the paintings.”A painting of Buddhist prayer flags titled Gone With the Wind is very close to his heart. One can almost hear the flags fluttering silently in a breeze. “I never managed to do another one like this,” Edou reflects. “I like it because it is my own inspiration, not something I reproduced.”Edou reflects on the small community of Chan painters, and the relative anonymity of the art form. “This practice is outside the mainstream,” he says, and that the idea was never to be a professional or to make a living out of it. “We are often called eccentrics, and cut off from academic circles. But eccentricity means thinking outside the box, being more concerned about inspiration and less about the technique or style. And I like being eccentric,” he adds, laughing.Despite the Covid crisis still looming large, Sangeeta Thapa is set on going ahead with socially distanced exhibition after being shut for almost a year. “If I’m not hopeful, I might as well shut down this place and wait until the vaccine is here. But people have started to go to malls and restaurants," she says. "Why should art have to suffer? The art must survive. Livelihoods must go on.”  Jerome Edou's A Single Brushstroke opens at Siddhartha Art Gallery on 11 December and ends on 10 January.

Shristi Karki

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A Single Brushstroke

<figure><img width="1674" height="1183" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be05c9c7e80680e083decjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Lain Singh Bangdel paints a portrait of Balkrishna Sama in 1975. Photos: AGAINST THE CURRENT</figcaption></figure>On 15 September, a UK-based art promotion site <a href="https://www.mutualart.com/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.mutualart.com/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE3SpprZpTpefc5k_Hh2j2r_Bj_CQ">MutualArt</a> sent an auction notification to its over 500,000 members. For sale was a rare <a href="https://www.mutualart.com/Artwork/Portrait-of-a-woman/C49A79DE6005AF77" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.mutualart.com/Artwork/Portrait-of-a-woman/C49A79DE6005AF77&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHf4cYX4xtCiZ-LCNgRJCxi9eagqQ">1955 watercolour painting of a woman</a>, and it bore the signature of Nepal’s foremost artist, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10689#.X6YzQvMzbIU">Lain Singh Bangdel</a>. Within two days of the announcement, the painting was bought for £100, and that price understandably left Nepal’s artist community, connoisseurs of Nepali art and Bangdel's own family members disappointed.  “The 100 pound auction price is extremely low for someone of Bangdel’s stature,” stated <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/sangeeta-thapa-siddhartha-art-gallery,1999" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/sangeeta-thapa-siddhartha-art-gallery,1999&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG0Y5AFU_KZiOpfahtSFiGUyvzn0A">Sangeeta Thapa</a>, art curator and director of Siddhartha Art Gallery. “Nepali artists and their artwork are finally getting the momentum they deserve, but this is dismal.” Thapa is a lifelong admirer of Bangdel’s work, and says she owes a lot to “Lainji” to launch her own career in art. She worked with Bangdel’s daugher, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/complete-projects-of-Dina-Bangdel,977" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/complete-projects-of-Dina-Bangdel,977&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNGN6hVbf3QAml5WljY2V0fa8OItlQ">Dina, in promoting Nepali art in the international arena</a>. Dina’s sudden death left a deep void in the country’s art scene,  Thapa says, and Nepal will probably never have a better father-daughter duo than of the Bangdels.   <figure><img width="575" height="506" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be05f9c7e80680e083dedjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The auction in September was organised by the UK-based <a href="https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHo7PvTRCwnTcPrJ8G6XcDcQ-EVGQ">Burstow &amp; Hewett </a>via <a href="https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/sales/fine-art/pisep20/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/sales/fine-art/pisep20/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH7rEVbHOY9c8O-eY4MYdBEIaVz9w">The Abbey Auction Gallery</a>, and the watercolour portrait was <a href="https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/Lot/?sale=PISEP20&amp;lot=1063&amp;id=173473&amp;fl=1" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.burstowandhewett.co.uk/Lot/?sale%3DPISEP20%26lot%3D1063%26id%3D173473%26fl%3D1&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNED8QGiR_Cc1dpZYGasp2TRYUAt3Q">under the lot #1063</a>. But this is not the only Bangdel painting that has been sold abroad at such a low price: three other abstracts were sold via a Canadian auction house, <a href="http://westbridge-fineart.com/site/past_auctions_artist.php?artistID=2434" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://westbridge-fineart.com/site/past_auctions_artist.php?artistID%3D2434&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFjfdJ_50ObljctOQ5i5PVeoV52uA">Westbridge Fine Art Auction House</a>, in 2016 and 2017, each at less than 700 Canadian dollars.  “In places like Canada, we can assume people haven't heard enough about Bangdel and that could be what determined the price,” says art crime professor Erin L Thompson at the City University of New York.  <figure><img width="2247" height="1780" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0619c7e80680e083deejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Dina’s husband Bibhakar Shakya is also saddened to see the latest auction price: “Most of the paintings are in our collection at home, and my father-in-law never really sold paintings, he mostly gifted them in the later years of his life.” Shakya has been keeping Lain Singh Bangdel’s legacy alive with their son Deven, cataloguing the collection of 300 to 350 of his father-in-law’s paintings at their home in Sanepa. He also plans to publish the English translation of Bangdel’s book Langada Ko Sathi, and find a permanent gallery for the paintings. “It was Dina’s dream to carry on in her father’s footstep, it is my responsibility to pick things up from where she left,” says Shakya, who says Bangdel could write as beautifully as he painted.  <figure><img width="2020" height="1538" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0649c7e80680e083defjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Lain Singh Bangdel was born to Ranglal Rai in 1919 near Darjeeling. As a child, he would paint everywhere, even on the walls of his home and street with images of gods and goddesses. Ranglal worked at a tea estate, and one day came home with a small collection of postcards given to him by his British employer. Bangdel was only eight then, but the images of various Impressionists and post-Impressionist artists, Corot, Millet, Monet, Manet and Turner were etched in his young mind. More than the others, Bangdel said later it was the French painter Corot whose work ‘captured his soul’ and inspired him to pursue his passion. <figure><img width="1649" height="1171" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0689c7e80680e083df0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It was only in high school that Bangdel came to realise that he wanted to be an artist. In 1939, he joined Calcutta Arts College. Calcutta was where that he met Indian filmmaker <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0006249/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0006249/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHNpaQ9mmB5ZQwZo_Mfl-lUXZmj_Q">Satyajit Ray</a>, and the two became lifelong friends.  <figure><img width="2896" height="2172" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be06b9c7e80680e083df1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In 1952, Bangdel enrolled at the French National Art School in Paris. Part of the cost was defrayed in a strange way. Bangdel had painted a portrait of <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5358#.X6UZz_MzbIV" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D5358%23.X6UZz_MzbIV&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEG3zMlfDX5XNzjDsUEoGIseToh8w">Balkrishna Sama</a> and it impressed <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9501#.X6UaAvMzbIU" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D9501%23.X6UaAvMzbIU&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNFrENWu78o6z5FCWgw9aUOc4ufOqw">General Keshar Shumsher Rana</a> so much that he sent over Rs5,000, quite a hefty sum in those days. In Paris, Bangdel was introduced to the works of Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque, and he was deeply influenced by their style. But he felt the tug of home, and was taken by Laxmi Prasad Devkota’s Muna Madan which impacted on his paintings and writings. Bangdel later used the epic as a theme for his most famous impressionistic works.  In later years, Bangdel went on to receive many national and international awards, including the French Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, the Order of the Crown of Italy (Commendatore) for his contribution to the study of Nepal’s early history and art. In 1987, Bangdel was awarded the honorary Knight Commander of the Victorian Order by Queen Elizabeth II. <figure><img width="1895" height="2110" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be06e9c7e80680e083df2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5250#.X6VWdC8RoWp" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D5250%23.X6VWdC8RoWp&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNHcf_62OVWo_-TUZkYijYXSL3krjA">Bangdel died in October 2002</a> in Lalitpur at age 83. Two decades have passed, and many young Nepalis have never heard of him. His son-in-law Shakya wants to change this. “It is due to Lain Singh Bangdel that Nepal’s modern and contemporary art started being noticed internationally, and we have to keep his works alive,” he says.Lain Singh Bandgel was not just a painter, he was also an established writer, art historian and to a select few, a passionate art teacher. His daughter <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=730#.X6QrN_MzbIU" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D730%23.X6QrN_MzbIU&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNG4e2MptePoy33qjAEsq7WCx5Aqsg">Dina Bangdel </a>carried forward his legacy until her own untimely death in 2017. After Paris, Bangdel travelled to London in 1957 where he received a letter from his friend B P Koirala to return to Nepal. Koirala went on to become Nepal’s first democratically elected prime minister, but within a year was removed in a coup by King Mahendra in 1960. It was then Mahendra who convinced Bangdel and his wife Manu to return from Europe to Nepal. <figure><img width="1663" height="1128" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0729c7e80680e083df3jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In 1961 after moving to Kathmandu, Bangdel got a job at the Royal Nepal Academy and eventually became its vice-chancellor. He later went on to become the founding general-secretary of Nepal Art Council and the New Art Circle, where he taught 15 talented new artists for free. Bangdel also wrote three Nepali-language novels between 1948 to 1951, Muluk Bahira, Maitighar and Langada Ko Sathi. They were tales of struggle and hardship of families in the mountains. Bangdel’s eyes saw the world: he lived through wars and revolutions, he saw pain, angst and misery all around him, and he transferred them to canvas and text.In later years, Bangdel went on to become an art historian and was an activist lobbying for the return of Nepal’s stolen religious objects. He wrote Early Sculptures of Nepal (1982), 2500 years of Nepali Art (1987), and Inventory of Stone Sculptures of the Kathmandu Valley (1995). However, his most important book, and one that is still as relevant today as when it was written in 1989, is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7311#.X6UZPfMzbIU" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id%3D7311%23.X6UZPfMzbIU&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNH5Yk-MQGvHmA-5UneCXMyxiOpucg">Stolen Images of Nepal</a> which documented 300 missing religious objects from Kathmandu. Most of them are still missing. <figure><img width="1653" height="949" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0759c7e80680e083df4jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bangdel built the home in Sanepa with his wife Manu Kumari Thapa, a nurse, who figures prominently in his biography, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Against-Current-Bangdel-Historian-Portraits/dp/9745240524" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.amazon.com/Against-Current-Bangdel-Historian-Portraits/dp/9745240524&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1604809161009000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEKKvPhdTxzG6gPTPEjJ4svNAbh3Q">Against the Current: Life of Lain Singh Bangdel</a>. In the book, Bangdel narrates his beautiful love story with Manu and her undying support for all his work. She went on to become a matron in Prasuti Griha, and is now in her mid-90s, still living in the home she built with her husband in Sanepa.  Dina was the sunshine of Lain Singh and Manu’s life. An only child, she was her father’s confidante in the later part of career as an art historian, and shared the same passion for Nepal’s heritage and their preservation. Dina Bangdel and Bandana Thapa were childhood friends, and they used to walk school from home together during which Dina would share extraordinary stories of her adventures with her father, of going to various heritage sites and taking pictures. “I remember Dina’s excitement when she narrated her father’s work to document stolen idols and we could all feel her passion even when young,” Bandana Thapa recalls.  <figure><img width="640" height="959" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0789c7e80680e083df5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Dina’s death left a lot of her work to preserve her father’s legacy incomplete. But Lain Singh Bangdel lives on through the brush strokes of his students, some of whom have now become accomplished artists themselves.Abstract painter Jeevan Rajopadhayay studied under Bangdel till the year he died, and has only fond memories of a gentle and patient teacher. “If it wasn’t for Bangdel Sir, maybe I would never have been an artist in the first place,” he said. Rajopadhayay was also shocked by how little his teacher’s painting fetched in an European auction. He said: “Even in the nineties, Bangdel’s paintings were selling for at least Rs500,000 in Japan’s Fukushima Museum. He is the father of Nepal’s modern art. We need to value his work more.” <figure><img width="2264" height="1766" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be07c9c7e80680e083df6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Excerpts from Against the Current: The Life of Lain Singh Bangdel:Bangdel’s life:Lain Singh changed his name from Rai to Bangdel in 1939, and as Lain Singh Bangdel he eventually became an able interpreter of Nepal’s economic and intellectual Diaspora, with its poverty and personal sorrows in villages existing side by side with the comparatively rich and inspiring intellectuals of towns. The socio-cultural traditions that the youthful Lain Singh grew up among profoundly flavored his life, guiding his scholarly development throughout a distinguished and multi-faceted career. B P Koirala's letter to Lain Singh Bangdel: <img width="640" height="683" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be07f9c7e80680e083df7jpeg.jpg" alt="">Meeting Satyajit Ray for the first time:The table where Lain sat belonged to someone named Ray who was away from the office for a few days, he was told. 'One morning near the end of my first week at about 10 o'clock, a tall and imposing man I'd never seen walked in and came directly to my desk. He spoke to me in Bengali: 'Arrey, kokhon eley?' (Hello, when did you arrive?) It was Ray's typical greeting on first meeting someone, a hallmark of his personality. Then he said, 'This is my table. Are you sitting here?'Lain did not know what to say. He had not been introduced. Then the stranger asked somebody, 'Why don't you provide another place for this gentleman?' Only then did Ganguli come over and introduce the stranger as Satyajit Ray whom he addressed familiarly as 'Manik Babu'.Space for Lain was arranged right next to Ray and in time they got to know each other, who each was, their interests and so forth. They were immediately attracted to one another, as fellow artists and inspired young intellectuals.  <img width="500" height="680" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181116/636be0829c7e80680e083df8jpeg.jpg" alt="">Against the Current: The Life of Lain Singh Bangdel Writer, Painter and Art Historian of Nepal by Don Messerschmidt with Dina BangdelOrchid Press, 21 July 2006258 pagesRead also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=730#.X6YzRfMzbIU">Dina, the daughter Bangdel</a>, Dhruba Simkhada<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=11342#.X6Yz7PMzbIU">Return of the gods</a>, Sujata Tuladhar<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10689#.X6Yz6PMzbIU">Lain's legacy</a>, Sraddha Basnyat

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Lain Singh Bangdel’s legacy lives on

When the Nepali Times morphed into a weekly newspaper from an e-platform in 2000, it was met at first with initial skepticism as the few English weeklies that existed back then had changed hands, declined in quality, or just faded into oblivion.However, this new paper swiftly made its mark as it brought on board a panel of writers and journalists whose reportage covered the nation’s socio-political struggles with insight and acumen. Nepal at this time was going through the curse or blessing of interesting times -- a turbulent transition from a monarchy to the planet’s newest federal republic.This boldness was at odds in a country where journalism had historically faced censorship. The editorials and articles were well researched and unequivocal, speaking for the disenfranchised and for those who were tortured, killed and disappeared by both the Maoists and the Army. Nepali Times  never compromised on fundamental issues like human rights, and even today continues to demand an inquiry into war crimes.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101148/636b77f89c7e80680e06466ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1491"/><figcaption>#851 24 - 30 March 2017</figcaption></figure>Well known writers and influencers such as C K Lal, Prashant Jha, Dewan Rai, Anil Chitrakar, Thomas Bell and Manjushree Thapa (to name a few) have written for the paper. The Nepali Times  archives give us a window onto 20 years of our nation’s socio-political and cultural history: the decade-long bloody civil war which led to 16,278 deaths, the peace process, the restoration of democracy, the promulgation of the new constitution that finally got written but is already contentious and why this is so, the nomination of our first President, the earthquake, the Blockade, the birth of the federal states, the political upheaval in the Tarai, load shedding and the hero Kulman Ghising who busted the darkness imposed on the nation by the power mafia.I have enjoyed the film column by Sophia Pande, Sewa Bhattarai’s art reviews, and Lisa Choegyal’s writings that  take us back to a time when Nepal was still Shangri-La and not the paradise lost it is today. Nepali Times also covered cultural activities and happenings: Nepathaya’s nationwide peace concert tours during the insurgency, Jazzmandu, booklaunches and reviews, various literature, film and theatre festivals, the Kathmandu International Art Festival, Photo Kathmandu, the Kathmandu Triennale  and reviews of art exhibitions in the city’s galleries. The preservation of Nepal’s tangible and intangible heritage has also been an area of focus with the Times.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101148/636b77fb9c7e80680e06466bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="474">Nepali Times has consistently covered the critical issue of climate change and its ramifications for a country where the melting of Himalayan glaciers can displace populations and create climate refugees. But my favourite pieces in the Nepali Times  are those by The Ass, which are befittingly featured on the back page. It gives us the opportunity to laugh during the darkest hours of our nation’s history, and at the absurdity of the Nepal’s present-day politics.Sangeeta Thapa is Director of the Siddhartha Arts Foundation and Siddhartha Art Gallery in Kathmandu.

History in (not such) a hurry

<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67049c7e80680e0599b7jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Lavkant Chaudhary</figcaption></figure>As they enter Lavkant Chaudhary’s Masinya Dastoor exhibition at the Siddhartha Art Gallery, the visitors are strongly drawn to one particular work on display.  They are three canvases titled DDT depicting circles within circles in the first one. Chakra, the circle of life, but it is also a bullseye, and the tiny figures of animals and people are rendered in the style of a traditional Tharu folk art. The figures are the size of an adult mosquito, and a greyscale exterminator points directly at the centre of the target, ready to spray dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane.The other painting are lifelike paintings of three DDT cans amidst a backdrop of insects, and the third is of a colourful cloud of butterfly silhouettes. <figure><img width="1500" height="1476" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67089c7e80680e0599b8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Chaudhary says the American-supported <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-mosquito-that-changed-nepals-history/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">eradication of malaria</a> from Chitwan and the Tharu homeland in the Tarai destroyed not just mosquitoes but but also the Tharu people. The paintings, he says are the “silenced histories of the Tharu community.”The Tharu were genetically immune to malaria, but once the disease was eradicated by killing mosquitos, settlers came in to clear the forests, land was bought at a pittance from Tharus unable to read the land deeds.The Masinya Dastoor is expression through art of an aboriginal people the rulers in Kathmandu treated as expendable. The works are housed in two floors with earthy acrylic on canvas paintings (pictured below), land title copies with ink superimposed, wood carvings, an art installation and video. Each artwork across these various medium connect back to the historical persecution of the Tharu people. <img width="1500" height="1573" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a670b9c7e80680e0599b9jpeg.jpg" alt="">Chaudhary says he used to be as ignorant about Tharu history as the rest of Nepalis, but was inspired when he began researching his community during a six-month art project initiated by Artree Nepal in Bhaktapur after the 2015 Earthquake.“All I came across were recurring stereotypical ideas about the Tharu. We were just <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/tharu-escargots/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">water snail eaters</a>  jungle dwellers, alcohol drinkers, and an honest tribe. That was our identity,” he recalls.Sangeeta Thapa of the Siddhartha Art Gallery says some indigenous groups in Nepal were taken as bonded labourers since Lichhavi times 1,400 years ago. Later on, under the Shah and Rana dynasties when the caste hierarchy was codified into the first Mulki Ain of 1854, indigenous groups were placed under the category of paani chalne masinya matawali (touchable but enslavable alcohol drinkers) which made them expendable by the state. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a670e9c7e80680e0599bajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Despite slavery being abolished in 1926, the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Modern-day-domestic-slaves-domestic-workers,3785" target="_blank" rel="noopener">kamaiya bonded labourer system</a> persisted until it was outlawed as late as 2004. But by then the Tharu had lost most of their land.One of Chaudhary’s art installations is of small wooden boxes hung from the ceiling, each filled with grain and a single brass bullet. Next to it, the Diary series recreates pages carved into wood from the diary of Jokhan Ratgainya, a Tharu journalist and revolutionary who was killed in June 2001. <figure><img width="1500" height="2078" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67119c7e80680e0599bbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In one corner, the Tamasuk series, with pen and ink drawings on Nepali paper, leads into the Dastoor series, stippling drawings of day to day activities on archival paper prints of the dastoor (legal orders).The second floor hosts large striking oil paintings that detail day to day scenes alongside violence: from the conflict years, and the Tikapur massacre of 2015. Another installation is of ghaila pots hanging inside a darkroom which projects light on the walls. On one wall, a video replays a barmasiya folk song and then shows a burning miniature village as eyewitness accounts of violence. <img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108151124/636a67149c7e80680e0599bcjpeg.jpg" alt="">Chaudhary writes in a description that he has used art to fill the gaps left by Nepal’s mainstream media to communicate the atrocities: “I found strength in unearthing what has remained silent and kept silent by the Nepali media, the state, and civil society.”His art speaks volumes about displacement and resistance, easily comparable to the struggles of indigenous peoples in the subcontinent and beyond. The mix of mediums, attention to detail and the historical narrative woven into each work makes for an exhibition that is an experience, one that sheds light on Nepali history and the indigenous peoples who have been silenced.Masinya Dastoorby Lavant ChaudharySiddhartha Art GalleryUntil January 9 2020

Atrocities against Tharu expressed in art

Recent outrage in Sikkim over an Indian Army expedition climbing <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>, the world’s third-highest peak, has spiked attention to the need to balance mountaineering jobs with indigenous reverence for sacred landmarks. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) is not a peak as much as it is a mountain range with 16 peaks above 7,000m on the border between India and Nepal -- the word itself means ‘five treasures of the snows’ in Tibetan. Some of the highest prominences like Kangchenjunga West and Kangbachen are in Nepal, while the Main, Central and South Peaks are on the border. Climbing the peak from the Indian side has been banned since 2001 because the indigenous Lepcha community there regard the mountain as the abode of Dzoe-nga, the patron deity of Sikkim, which was an independent Himalayan Kingdom until it was annexed by India in 1975.&nbsp; Buddhists in Sikkim say their saint, Padmasambhava, recognised the mountain as a protective spirit. The state has declared the base of the mountain Kangchenjunga National Park, which covers an area one-third of Sikkim. ‘The act of scaling this sacred peak is not only a matter of serious concern but also a violation of both the prevailing legal provisions and the deeply held religious beliefs of the people of Sikkim,’ read a letter from Chief Minister Prem Singh Tamang (Golay) to Amit Shah, India’s Minister of Home Affairs and Cooperation.&nbsp; Tamang continued: ‘We further request Your Honour to take up the issue with the Government of Nepal to ensure that no future expeditions are permitted on the sacred mountain, in deference to the deeply held beliefs and cultural values of the people of Sikkim.’ Kangchenjunga was climbed for the first time exactly 70 years ago by a British team who told King Tashi Namgyal, the Choegyal of Sikkim, that they would not set foot on the summit. Since then, there have been about 532 successful climbs of the peaks and 52 have died while trying.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250628060616_5c268e08cf49f36b79ef9b31933fc2d9bf9a6f65414e7ca06dd028bf04e7ccc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1782" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Indigenous communities in Sikkim held purification ceremonies following the Indian expedition to Kangchenjunga. Photo: THE VOICE OF SIKKIM / FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">This spring climbing season</a> alone, there were 70 climbing permits for foreigners issued for Kangchenjunga by the Nepal government, and made it to the top while one French climber died.&nbsp; One of the expeditions this year was an Indian Army team led by Col Ranveer Jamwal, who has summited the highest peaks on all seven continents, and Mt Everest thrice. Jamwal’s team was on the final leg of a ‘<a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/nimas-summits-mt-kangchenjunga-concludes-historic-har-shikhar-tiranga-mission-successfully/articleshow/121341315.cms?from=mdr">Har Shikhar Tiranga</a>’ (The Tricolour on Every Peak) mission to plant the Indian flag at the highest points of each of India’s 28 states. Kanchenjunga was the last peak they had left, and the hardest, but the expedition put five climbers on the summit. What seems to have incensed the Sikkimese is that while it has banned climbing the mountain from its side, it was an Indian military expedition that went to Nepal to climb the mountain. After news broke of the climb in May, the Sikkim Indigenous Lepcha Tribal Association asked people to observe purification ceremonies in temples across the state. Mayalmit Lepcha of the association acknowledged that the Sikkim government was also partly at fault: “I don’t think such an expedition could have gone forward without the state government being informed, so it could have done something to intervene. It shows weakness. What’s done is done, all we can do is carry out these sanctification ceremonies.”&nbsp; In 2000, one year before Sikkim’s ban, the state allowed an Austrian team to attempt Kanchenjunga’s northeast face for a fee of $20,000, on agreement that they would stop 10m before the summit. Despite this, there was outrage over the expedition on the grounds that it violated Indian laws regarding the defiling of religious sites and Sikkim’s rights to maintain its culture after merging with India. The Indian Army expedition was also seen to have circumvented Sikkim’s law and violated religious sensibilities by going through Nepal. While the team may have thought they were respecting Sikkim’s beliefs by finding a way to complete the mission, the people of Sikkim saw it as defilement.&nbsp; The somber mood of the Sikkim people at the ritual contrasts sharply with Jamwal’s sense of accomplishment. “Without a doubt, the most difficult summit of my life,” he told reporters after the climb. “It tested every ounce of our will.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250628060616_ccfe079c78dab788d19fe2080ee8a5d5dcb11de4157316f6d94e5964da097157" data-rendition-name="original" width="787" height="377" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb NT"> <figcaption>Prayer flags along the Sikkim-Kangchenjunga trekking route. Photo: TREKKINGININDIA.COM</figcaption> </figure>  The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">controversial Nepali-British mountaineer Nirmal Purja</a> was also on Kangchenjunga this spring the mountain, on a mission to summit all 14 8,000m peaks for a third time. He echoed Jamwal about the tough conditions: “The conditions above camp were extremely tough, with deep snow and challenging terrain—more crevasses than usual.” Nepal’s government has not said anything publicly, but it is unlikely that it will ban climbing on Kangchenjunga, since it is becoming popular with expeditions because of its technical challenges, and overcrowding on Mt Everest. Nepal does have bans in place for some of its mountains out of respect for local beliefs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/to-open-machapuchre-for-mountaineering-or-not">Mt Machapuchre</a> (6,990m) the imposing pyramid that looms over Pokhara, for example, is seen as an icon of purity by the Gurung people and a symbol of Vishnu by the Hindu communities who live at its base. A strict climbing ban has been in place since 1957, when a British expedition led by Col Jimmy Roberts stopped 45m short of the summit – either because the last bit was too difficult or out of deference to local sentiments.&nbsp; Khumbila that stands above Namche Bazar is only 5,761m high, but like Kanchenjunga is considered the protector deity of the Sherpa people. Gauri Shankar on the Nepal-China border, called Chomo Tseringma by the local community, was off-limits between 1965 and 1979 due to its association with Lord Shiva and Gauri, his consort. Although expeditions are now allowed, there are not too many takers. In Tibet, climbing Mount Kailash is prohibited by the Chinese government because it revered by the Hindus, Buddhists and followers of the Bon faith. Even Mt Everest is regarded as sacred, and its Sherpa name is Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the Earth.&nbsp; Economically, climbs on Kanchenjunga bring in decent revenue. This climbing season, the 41 permits, at $1,800 each, brought in $73,800. This is somewhat comparable to Makalu, Lhotse, and Annapurna I, but these numbers are dwarfed by the $4 million in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-everest-industry">Everest permits</a>. Revenue from Kanchenjunga climbing permits is something Nepal could potentially forgo if necessary, but the expeditions also provide jobs to hundreds of high altitude guides, porters, base camp support staff and other logistical costs.&nbsp; As the third highest mountain in the world and the tallest in India, there will always be significant motivation to climb it from the Nepal side, especially as climbers are drawn by the technical climbing at high altitude.

Kangchenjunga: too sacred to climb?

The debate about who is less accountable to the public: politicians or bureaucrats is as old as Nepal’s democracy itself.
Some blame politicians for being beholden to the businessmen who finance their electoral campaigns, and are forced to return the favour with contracts and kickbacks when in power.&nbsp;
Others say it is civil servants who are neither civil nor servants, and know the inner workings of the system to exploit loopholes – they then teach ministers, MPs, mayors, or ward chairs which juicy projects can be squeezed. And everyone gets their share.
In reality, it is probably not a case of either, or. Both have their hands deep in the honey pot. Corruption is now such a given that yet another exposé in the mainstream press, like the latest visit-visa scam, does not raise eyebrows anymore.
We may have to edit Lord Acton’s famous quote to say that in Nepal we do not even need absolute power to corrupt absolutely. The ruling cartel has divvied up the spoils, so that no one ever faces charges. The three parties all know about the skeletons rattling in each other’s closets, and they cancel each other out.
Politicians and bureaucrats get all the blame for taking bribes, but what of the givers of bribes? In this crony capitalism, businesses invariably need political patrons in an elaborate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">national network of give-and-take</a>.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-only-growth-industry-private-sector-corruption" target="_blank">Politicians and businesses work hand-in-glove</a> so that conflict of interest in contracts, insider trading, cartelling, and non-performing assets of banks become the norm. Our survey after the 2017 local election showed that out of the 753 newly-elected local government chairs, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elected-contractors" target="_blank">nearly 300 were contractors</a> involved in sand-mining, quarrying, or transportation syndicates.
Nepal’s tycoons have discovered that instead of donating to election war chests of politicians, it is a much surer return on investment to spend the money to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-business-of-politics-in-nepal" target="_blank">become legislators and politicians themselves</a>.
In democracies, there are checks and balances to control corruption when it becomes endemic. The Nepal Police and Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) are supposed to do the detective work without political interference. The courts are required to be independent in dispensing justice and punishing crooks.
But the less said about the judiciary the better. A writ petition in the Supreme Court last week accused our sister magazine <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> of contempt of court for two stories: one about how high courts have been overturning a majority of verdicts of district courts in cases of rape, and another about the Biratnagar High Court clearing a self-proclaimed holy man, Krishna Bahadur Giri, of rape despite police presenting physical evidence.
The doctrine of the separation of powers stipulates that it is when the other three pillars in a democracy are compromised that the role of the free press becomes even more vital. The world over, as soon as populist autocrats are elected to the executive, their first order of business is to co-opt the legislature and the judiciary. Then they buy off, intimidate, or neutralise the media with Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP).
Nepal’s officialdom seems to be taking midnight Zoom lessons from other despots on how to gag the media. Last month, popular talk show host Dil Bhushan Pathak was served an arrest warrant by the Kathmandu District Court for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CntsnTrtG8" target="_blank">a YouTube explainer</a> about the alleged involvement of the son of Foreign Minister Arzu Deuba Rana in a reported purchase of Kathmandu’s Hilton Hotel.
The Lalitpur District Court ruled that Pathak could not be arrested without fair trial, but this week the Kathmandu District Court filed another case against the journalist based on a complaint by the Cyber Bureau, and put him on a fugitive list.&nbsp;
Without going into the veracity of Pathak’s explainer, it is deeply problematic that the Electronic Transaction Act has been invoked – proof that politicians are getting the courts and investigating agencies to make an example of a high profile journalist.&nbsp;
The intention is to silence media investigations into the fake refugee scandal in which the main partner in the ruling coalition is implicated, and in which one of its former home ministers was jailed last year.
The Kathmandu High Court has been mysteriously active in targeting journalists these days. <a href="https://bizmandu.com/" target="_blank">Bizmandu</a> and <a href="https://nepalkhabar.com/" target="_blank">Nepalkhabar</a> were served a notice last month <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06" target="_blank">to withdraw a story they did</a> on the Chair of the <a href="https://www.sebon.gov.np/" target="_blank">Security and Exchange Board of Nepal (SEBON</a>) Santosh Narayan Shrestha allegedly demanding kickbacks from hydropower investors.&nbsp;
Incredibly, the court even asked the two portals not to report on the subject anymore – a ruling so absurd that the Patan High Court overturned it a week later.&nbsp;
The allegations against Shrestha were made in a public meeting of the <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Independent Power Producers Association of Nepal (IPPAN)</a>, and MPs demanded a <a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/parliament-demands-probe-into-sebon-chairman-over-alleged-commission-demand-40-32.html" target="_blank">Parliament inquiry</a> into the regulator. <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/144523/santosh-narayan-shrestha" target="_blank">HimalKhabar</a> reported this week that while Shrestha was reportedly demanding commissions from private investors for IPOs, he cleared primary share sales in Bajhang’s 10.75MW <a href="https://www.ippan.org.np/members/3060/bungal-hydro-ltd" target="_blank">Bungal Hydro</a> in which his family members have investments, company records show.
And then just on Monday, bureaucrats hoodwinked MPs by deleting references in a bill requiring a two-year ‘cooling off’ period under which retiring civil servants could be barred from holding constitutional positions for two years.
The contest for who is more corrupt: bureauacrats, politicians, or the private sector is on.
Kunda Dixit

SLAPPing Democracy

The monsoon this year arrived on time, and brought life-giving rain — irrigating paddy terraces, recharging groundwater, reviving springs, and increasing electricity generation.
But Nepal has to deal with either too much water or too little. On a clear April day before the monsoon, the hills of Sindhuli district were parched, and there were wildfires burning out of control. There had been no rain for the past six months.
And that has been the perennial crisis for Nepal’s farmers: that 85% of the rainfall occurs during just four months of the monsoon with little rain for the other eight months.&nbsp;
The water crisis is related to the powerful changes sweeping the mid-hill region of Nepal. With better roads, higher incomes and more exposure, many residents now aspire to have the kind of water supply seen in urban homes. They want hot or cold water at the turn of a tap, showers and flush tank toilets.&nbsp;
To meet this rising demand, many local and provincial governments are investing in large water supply projects often by lifting water from rivers hundreds of metres down the mountain. But these new systems may not be sustainable in the long run.
Many villages in Sindhuli are switching from local springs to piped systems, and even in rural homes, overhead tanks are becoming common.
But this new convenience comes with big challenges. Lifting water from rivers far below requires long pipes, electric pumps, and constant maintenance. These systems are costly, and the streams themselves often shrink to a trickle in the dry months. Big water-lifting schemes look impressive, but there is doubt if they can meet growing water demand.
A much more sustainable solution would be what some communities are doing: restoring old ponds or build new recharge systems. But those villages are exceptions, in most places traditional ponds and wallows are being filled up to be turned into sports fields, or make way for buildings.
Where there are new ponds, they are sometimes in the wrong places or without proper design. Roads and drains are not engineered properly and have increased landslides and erosion. Water management in hilly areas is not just about building things, it is about building in the right way, in the right place.
Traditional water systems were based on nature. They were not perfect, but they used the land wisely. Ponds used to hold rainwater and slowly refill springs which supported families, farms, and forests.&nbsp;
Not everything worked well in the past, but we can learn from traditional water management practices. Across Nepal, some rural municipalities have launched campaigns to store monsoon runoff — either in tanks, ponds or by recharging the aquifers.
But not all efforts have been successful. Some ponds are built without any hydrological study. Some are rushed to meet deadlines rather than real needs.&nbsp;
Now, the Muhan initiative hopes to revive springs to make households more resilient and help farmings. With the financial support of the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, research is being done to understand how springs work and how they are affected by changes in rainfall, land use, and development.&nbsp;
Instead of just building pipes and tanks, the project maps the entire springshed so we can understand the root cause of water shortage. In Sindhuli, the problem is not the amount of rain, but the loss of natural systems that store it and the social systems that manage water.&nbsp;
Nepal’s towns and villages now face a major challenge: how to manage water all year round as demand rises with people’s living standards. Depending only on river-lift systems is not a sustainable solution.&nbsp;
We need a mix of approaches that help store water from the rainy season to make it available for the rest of the year, whether by directly harvesting rainwater, restoring ponds, managing springsheds, or smart management of demand.
Rural Nepal is also seeing dramatic depopulation. Much of the outmigration can be stemmed if there is easier water supply for agriculture and household use. Across the mid hills, villages are emptying because springs are going dry. Government policy needs to catch up with the reality on the ground, and support solutions that work for people and nature. Every water supply plan should include recharge structures. Every road or building project should consider water flow and erosion. Local governments need more than budgets: they need training, tools, and data.
Ngamindra Dahal is with the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu. Hemant Ojha collaborated in this piece and is associated with the Australian National University.

Water for Life

<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-last-of-the-kusunda">The Kusunda</a> are among the last remaining hunter-gatherer communities left in Nepal, and it has only one fluent speaker left of a language that is not related to any other language group in South Asia.&nbsp; The Kusunda call themselves the King of the Forests ((गेम्येहाक़ in Kusunda,वन राजा in Nepali) and used to have a nomadic lifestyle till recently. But decades of exclusion from mainstream society and modernity have forced the Kusunda to assimilate. &nbsp; Today, most Kusunda live across Nepal’s mid-hills and western plains, choosing to identify themselves as Thakuri and adopting names like Sen, Shahi, and Khan to avoid ostracisation. Over time, inter-ethnic marriages between the Kusunda and other communities became increasingly common.&nbsp; However, the assimilation with other communities also meant that almost no one from the Kusunda community can speak their mother tongue – considered by linguists to be a ‘language isolate’ not related to any other language group in the world, and lacking set rules of grammar that are foundational to other languages. There are no words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ in Kusunda, nor are there words to signify direction. There are 23 languages with less than 1,000 speakers listed in Nepal's 2021 census, with Kusunda being the language with the least number of speakers. The number of people who identified as Kusunda has decreased with each subsequent census. Only 253 individuals identified themselves as Kusunda in the last National Census of 2021, down from 273 in 2011.&nbsp; <div class="embed-block"><iframe src="https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/raithane-bhakha/embed/episodes/Kusundas---the-last-of-the-forest-kings-e23ge6p/a-a9peei1" height="102px" width="400px" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe></div> The government’s decision to provide a social security stipend to the community for the past few years has prompted many from the Kusunda community to reclaim their identity and in the process, explore their culture and language. Kamala Sen Kusunda, who lives in Dang, is the only fluent native Kusunda speaker alive, although there are now other Kusunda and non-Kusunda people learning how to speak the language. By the time Kamala Sen Kusunda was born in 1975, her family had settled in a village in Rolpa. Although she did not experience the nomadic life of her forebears, she still roamed the forests freely as a child and many of the values and socio-cultural practices of her community were instilled in her and her siblings.&nbsp; This meant that Kamala grew up speaking Kusunda with her family. But by then, the Kusunda had increasingly begun to interact with people beyond their community, and inter-ethnic marriages had become a norm.&nbsp; Kamala herself married at 18 to a 52-year-old man from the Chhetri community. She would go on to have four children, but they were brought up with her husband’s culture and community rather than her own, and teaching them her mother tongue seemed impractical.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250628030648_afaa298bf8ea3b7086e2ed086b11eab463ef2b20a82a4aad74df3dd2e922a4c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="641" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Gyani Maiya Kusunda with Kusunda youth in 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  “If I had spoken my language to them when they were children, they would have learned,” she tells us ruefully. “But they were growing up in a different community, so I never pushed, and they never expressed interest.” At the time, she had other things to worry about, such as earning a livelihood and sustaining her family. To find work, Kamala and her family moved to Shimla in India, where she worked at an apple orchard for six years.&nbsp; Over the next years, Kamala and her family moved back and forth between India and Nepal for work, and Kamala was not actively conversing in the language of her people or being able to connect with members of her community now scattered across Nepal.&nbsp; Had she not forgotten her language after all those years? “How could I forget the language of my ancestors?” she replies. “Not speaking it did not mean that it ceased to be a part of me.”&nbsp; Kamala had been working at a brick kiln in Thimi seven years ago when the National Language Commission tracked her down, offered her a paid position as a Kusunda language consultant and source person for basic language training in Dang.&nbsp; It was there that Kamala met her cousin Gyani Maiya Sen Kusunda, the only other person able to speak Kusunda fluently, who had been working with the Commission to conserve Kusunda language and culture. It was also where Kamala met language researcher and lexicographer Uday Raj Ale. Ale had been in the middle of his research into the Tharu language and community 15 years ago when he met Gyani Maiya Kusunda’s son, who told him that his mother was one of the few people who spoke Kusunda, but that no one had shown an interest in studying and preserving the language and culture. Ale met Gyani Maiya, spending time with her learning and researching Kusunda. By 2017, Ale had collected enough words to put together a Kusunda dictionary. The Kusunda vocabulary currently comprises 2,000 words. His research into the Kusunda language and culture has taken him to every known Kusunda household in Nepal. Although the census puts the number of Kusunda at 253, Ale reckons there are only 158.&nbsp; “Kusunda language is endangered due to its lack of use in everyday life, literature, and religious and socio-cultural practices, as well as the prevalence of inter-ethnic marriages,” explains Ale. In 2019 the Language Commission began its language transfer programs for youth from indigenous communities. Since then, the Commission has completed multiple phases of Kusunda language classes in Dang facilitated by Uday Raj Ale. The classes have 20 students, not just from the Kusunda community, but also interested non-native students.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250626120632_c6c378bc00af450f2b7f0cf17af1c3b2b6f7b7226927c458c3e01ec389869d33" data-rendition-name="original" width="1485" height="1535" loading="lazy" alt="Kusunda NT"> <figcaption>Students learning Kusunda with instructor Uday Raj Ale (second row, left)</figcaption> </figure>  Khamba Rokaya, who worked as a caretaker for young Kusunda children in Dang, became interested in learning the language as she sat in with the children during their lessons, and for the last few years has been among the few non-native Kusunda language learners in Dang. “I am not from the Kusunda community, but now that I have learned the language, I hope to do my part to carry on the work and share my knowledge with as many people as possible,” she says. “One way to ensure that we preserve this language is to extend its speaker base, both within the Kusunda and non-native communities.” Ale and Kamala have continued to work together since Gyani Maya’s passing in 2020, expanding the Kusunda vocabulary and creating appropriate curricula to fit the needs of the students as their knowledge of Kusunda expands.&nbsp; But without any documentation of Kusunda history, the community’s traditions, stories, values and language were at risk of being lost to time. “The loss of an ethnicity, language or culture in a country is akin to losing a vital organ, and a unique perspective of looking at the world,” says Ale. Which is why Archive Nepal in collaboration with the British Council’s Cultural Protection Fund and the UK’s Department of Culture, Media, and Sport in February launched a book of creative writings in the Kusunda language titled पिन्डा (meaning ‘The First’ in Kusunda): A Compilation of Kusunda Literature. The book is a collection of informative essays about the Kusunda language and culture, short stories that explore themes from nomadic life to universal Nepali experiences of poverty and migration, letters to loved ones, as well as conversational pieces by five Kusunda students ranging from ages 16 to 30. The works in the Kusunda language are also translated into Nepali and English.&nbsp; “Language is an important part of ethnic identity, and our indigenous languages cannot evolve or be conserved unless they are spoken or taught,” said Ale during the launch of the book earlier this year. “But most importantly, language exists as long as there exists literature in that language.” Kamala was in Kathmandu for the launch of the book, and smiled proudly as she looked at the young writers who had contributed to the collection. She said: “I’m glad the young people have chosen to learn and preserve Kusunda. Otherwise, our language would have died with me.” &nbsp;

sangeeta-thapa