<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181148/636a966f9c7e80680e05dc68jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Photos: EPIC MOUNTAIN BIKE</figcaption></figure>Rupesh Shrestha was nearly paralysed after a spinal injury, and his business was on the verge of bankruptcy. Just when he thought things could not get much worse, he lost his wife to cancer.Today, Shrestha is a living example of someone who turned adversity into accomplishment, using a positive mental attitude and persistence to transform a small bicycle shop into one of Kathmandu’s top mountain bike stores.“When you are on the edge you learn so much about life, and it was my passion for business that drove me to success,” says Shrestha. “You can either get stuck or move forward.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/migrant-worker-finds-farming-in-nepal-more-rewarding/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Migrant worker finds farming in Nepal more rewarding</a>, Naresh NewarFive years ago, after suffering a prolapsed disc, he was hospitalised then bedridden at home for months. It was rigorous physiotherapy and yoga that saved him from paralysis.Against his father’s advice, he had set up Epic Mountain Bike in 2000, when he was just 20. Shrestha was ahead of his time because Kathmandu was not yet ready for mountain biking, and the business did not do well.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76OS31e_2iUThen tragedy struck: his wife was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and despite treatment she died in 2016.“This was a very difficult time for me, but during the 13-day mourning period I did a lot of self-reflection about life. It was the support and counselling from my friends and family that helped me to move on,” recalls Shrestha.The trick was to put his energy completely into his mountain bike store, understand the market, promote cutting-edge technology and focus on making the venture successful.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15137#.XdZnjdUzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cycle city</a>, Roma Aryal“At that time, 80% of my clients were westerners and 20% Nepali — today it is just the reverse,”  says Shrestha, who sees many urban Nepalis now adopting the sport, taking advantage of the country’s challenging topography and stunning scenery to undertake adventures on two wheels.He went to Singapore to train himself in the potential for mountain biking, and read and researched the subject starting with the bible of the sport, The Complete Book of Mountain Biking, by mountain biking pioneer Gary Fisher.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108181148/636a96749c7e80680e05dc69jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1050">Back in Nepal, Shrestha re-started his shop in Jhamsikhel and trained staff to become mechanics. “I was very passionate about this business, not only to sell bikes but to get more Nepalis interested in going out to the great outdoors. This is both fun and environment-friendly.”Shrestha started mapping mountain-biking routes around Kathmandu Valley, giving enthusiasts on-the-spot training to develop biking skills and techniques. Outside Kathmandu, his sister company, Epic Rides Nepal, started guided tours, taking cyclists for one-day trips to Hetauda and Chandragiri Ridge, and then longer and tougher 10-day grinds in Mustang and Annapurna.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/no-city-for-cyclists/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">No city for cyclists</a>, Sewa BhattaraiThe company organised even longer 21-day trips to Lhasa, cycling 1,000 km. This September, Shrestha’s team organised the first of a kind, 12-day biking trip for Nepali riders in Colorado and Utah.“Since the beginning we targeted Nepalis because that made the business sustainable,” says Shrestha, adding that his Nepali customers have helped his company grow to an annual turnover of Rs20 million today.Shrestha is also involved in various charities, organising awareness campaigns through annual bike rallies on <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/think-pink-breast%20cancer-diagnosis-treatment,3877" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Breast Cancer</a> Day in memory of his wife, donating the proceeds to hospitals to treat cancer patients who cannot afford treatment. He also helps with an HIV/AIDS treatment centre in Kirtipur.Rupesh Shrestha’s advice for success is to muster courage, patience and passion, and learn from failures. And finally: “Only get into a business doing something you are really passionate about, and don’t rush it. Never give up.”

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

Rupesh’s epic journey

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e309c7e80680e04fca0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2274" height="1536"/>Human trafficking makes for dramatic stories of suffering, struggle and survival, which is why it is frequently the theme on stage and screen performances. But few, perhaps, with the grace and poignancy of The Flight, presented by Solis Performing Arts and One World Theatre at the Russian Cultural Centre 4-7 July.This immersive musical dance-drama directed by Alizé  Biannic portrays not just the victimisation of young women and their emotional journeys, but tells their story through contemporary European-style dance steps.The sheer physicality of the play makes the strongest impression, whether it is the women with the trembling knees, the exhibition of half-dressed, cowering women in front of leering men who, measuring each woman with their eyes and hands, menacingly circle them and haul them over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/all-the-world-is-a-stage-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">All the world is a stage</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWith minimal dialogue, every emotion -- terror, anger, guilt, hope -- is communicated  through body movements, which is fitting because the subject matter revolves around physical relationships. Every action sequence has been framed carefully for visual appeal even when the emotions depicted are negative.“I wanted every scene to look like a painting, because visual impact is very important in such a performance,” explained director Biannic, who trained the actors, most of whom Nepali non-dancers, in ballet-inspired moves so that they look almost as graceful as her.The play does not just take us through the physical journeys of the characters, but also their emotional, spiritual and psychological ones. It starts with a young man whose family is involved in the ‘flesh trade’, and he wonders if he should join in. His journey begins with confusion, then acceptance, then guilt and finally abandonment of this trafficking activity.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/private-is-political/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Private is political</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e349c7e80680e04fca1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="843"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“I want to depict the phenomenon from many aspects, including the story of how young men are unwittingly trapped in this vicious circle. Violence breeds violence, and you cannot expect love out of someone who has never seen it. This creates a chain of negativity where young men reproduce the behaviour they have seen,” says Biannic who met with several trafficking victims before writing and directing this play.She wants to draw attention to continued trafficking of Nepali women to brothels in Nepal and abroad. The journey of the women is artfully invoked through symbols and visual metaphors. An eagle, a bird associated with power and spirituality, brings hope to the women. The women bathe, suggesting a spiritual cleansing even when their bodies have been defiled. The women look for an escape from their hell, their bodies writhing and contorting with agony. When they together overcome their pain, the choreography  turns fluid and lithe.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/why-is-female-sexuality-still-a-taboo-in-Nepal,2908" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Taboo no more</a>, Ayesha ShakyaBiannic has blended classical Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky to create an intense background score that plunges and soars with the storyline. This and the ballet lends the production a strong European flavour, but the story and performance packs an emotional punch that is distinctly Nepali.The FlightDirected by Alizé BiannicRussian Cultural Center4-7 July, 1:30 PM &amp; 6:00 PM<h2>Biannic brings new edge to the Nepali stage</h2>With her flitting butterfly moves and gravity-defying leaps, Alizé Biannic is mesmerising on stage. The ballet-trained artist’s approach to dance may be European, but her animated conversation and emotionally charged approach to art certainly strikes a chord here in Nepal. The French national has been living here for the past six years, creating and acting in plays that have added a cosmopolitan flavour to Nepali theatre.Biannic started learning dance when she was 13 in Germany and Spain before working at The Royal Ballet in London. She developed her own style which merged acting and dancing because she thinks the combination works better. In 2013, she came to Nepal to take a year off, and has stayed here ever since.She met a child while working in a Kathmandu orphanage who is acting in her current production, The Flight. “I realised that I wanted to work with people who are clear and open minded because it made me realise that my life was missing something,” confesses Biannic. “I want my life to have meaning, which I found in Nepal.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108131140/636a4e379c7e80680e04fca2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960">Biannic takes the same approach to her work, where she likes to imbue every frame with meaning. Her actors do not just stand in the background, their body positions and movements are minutely choreographed, conveying specific emotions relevant to the scenes. Each person or object has a well-defined role to play in every scene, and every frame looks like a painting.Biannic recently opened Solis Performing Arts, a school which teaches dance, acting and music. And when she is not teaching, she is acting or directing, and has since produced six plays and acted in others, including Arjuna’s Dilemma.“I want to make the best of available resources to create quality drama right here in Nepal,” says Biannic, while adjusting the props, lighting, music, and costumes during a dress rehearsal on Wednesday. “Proper attention to technical details really raises the quality of production, and that should not be neglected.”

Dance-drama takes trafficking head-on

<figure><img width="1400" height="934" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29569c7e80680e0458bejpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: SONIA AWALE</figcaption></figure>I'm not sure how to tell my story. There is so much pain inside me that I never get to share … I am terrified to voice them.” Originally from Chapagaun, Rupa Maharjan used to travel to Patan every day for work. Born in a poor farming family, she never went to school. So, getting a job even as a daily wage worker at a metal craft factory in the city meant a lot. <img width="430" height="210" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29599c7e80680e0458bfjpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 0.01em; background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar <a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiThis is also where she met Babu Ratna Maharjan. They were soon married and lived happily despite limited resources. But seven years later, Babu Ratna was diagnosed with brain tumour. His family had to sell a part of the ancestral land to pay for his treatment, but first they had to win a court battle against relatives.The money was soon gone, and so was Rupa’s husband. He was 30, she was 29 and her son Bishal was eight. She shared an old three-storey house in Kapinche Tole of Patan with her in-laws, two brothers-in-laws and their families. Half of Bishal’s school fees was sponsored by a monastery, but she had to work herself to the bone to pay the other half. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki Lama<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai When earthquake struck on 25 April 2015, she and her son lost their home. But her husband’s oldest brother kindly decided to give her his share of the house, and with a Rs400,000 bank loan Rupa has started rebuilding. She was not eligible for the government’s reconstruction grant, as the design did not meet the standards set by the National Reconstruction Authority.Rupa is now 39, but her small, thin frame, tired eyes and wrinkled hands make her look frail. She shows a visitor around the building, which is still under construction four years after the earthquake. She shares a tiny bedroom with her son and the open kitchen is bare. “I will continue pushing myself for my son’s future, he is all I have got left, and I am all he has,” says Rupa. “I worry about being able to afford his higher studies because I still have to pay off my loans.” Rupa’s job at the metalcraft shop entails working with solvents to clean metal for gold plating, and this has given her allergies. The work is also not paying as much because Kathmandu’s handicraft industry is suffering due to cheap Chinese imports. Bishal is now 16 and will be taking his Secondary School Examination later this year. Unlike other boys his age at school who are exploring their interests and planning ahead for engineering and computer science studies, Bishal does not have big dreams and is considering to learn Chinese and become a tour guide."All I know is that I have to support my mom as soon as possible," says Bishal, who can barely bring himself to mention his father who could have guided him.  “My nephew has accepted the reality of our family and does not ever demand a thing,” said Rupa’s brother-in-law, Karma, 50. “I worry he won’t be able to continue his studies and that he will end up not having a choice in what does in life, just like us.”The next morning, it is just another day for Rupa Maharjan as she prepares a simple meal for her son before he goes off to attend extra tutorials to prepare for his exams. Then she is off to the workshop, where she will spend next eight hours bringing bronze figures of deities to life.

Sonia Awale

Making gods for a living

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29619c7e80680e0458c4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1400" height="1078"/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>At 65, Ishwori Bhandari is a happy-go-lucky woman. She has no family, no obligations, and lives alone. She recently went to India to attend the Kumbha Mela with a hundred other devotees from Nepal, and says god has given her a good life.But ask her about her sorrows, and her eyes well up. “Don’t ask me about that, it hurts me deeply,” she says. “I must ignore it and look only to the positive so that I can live.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a29649c7e80680e0458c5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="210">Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiAfter her husband died 25 years ago, she fought a long legal battle for her husband’s share of ancestral property, but got only a small portion which she had to sell to pay the lawyers.Bhandari’s long and hard life was made worse by the 2015 earthquake. Her third brother-in-law helped her get joint ownership for the house she was living in. The earthquake destroyed that house, and she wanted to build a new one. But her brother-in-law died, and his wife refused to sign over the legal rights. Without it, Bhandari could not get the housing grant from the Nepal Reconstruction Authority (NRA).Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki LamaBhandari is among tens of thousands of single women who have been disenfranchised by a patriarchal system that gives men the advantage in property ownership.The earthquake made all this worse for single mothers and widows who needed land titles and house ownership certificates to get compensation. Single women like Ishwori Bhandari are particularly vulnerable because they cannot afford lawyers and have no family support.Four years after the earthquake, Bhandari lives in a small tin shed she has constructed beside her destroyed house. “It is very difficult to get through the winter and now the rains will come,” she says.Still, Bhandari calls herself fortunate to at least have a shed. She is much better off than the really poor earthquake survivors she has come across.“I saw one woman who did not even have a hut, she was living in a cave and could not walk,” says Bhandari, who helped the woman by referring her to social workers. “She blessed me, and it is because of that blessing I am able to live an independent life despite the misfortunes.”Bhandari suffered a heart attack after the strong aftershock on 12 May 2015 and is on expensive and lifelong medication. She had broken her left leg 20 years ago and walks with a limp because it swells from time to time.She says: “I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I want to live long and help others. I just wish my shed was warmer and did not leak.”

Staying positive

<figure><img width="1400" height="933" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295a9c7e80680e0458c0jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>Pampha Nepali never learnt to read and write, and yet at age 50 uses a measurement tape to stitch blouses for her customers. It is that determination that led her to start building a house in Sitapaila two years after the earthquake, even though she had no money for it.Nepali lost her husband 17 years ago when her children were very young. She continued to live in their home, even though her in-laws tried to drive her out. She and the two children now live in a small plot even though her father-in-law refused to pass the property in her name, fearing she might run away with another man if he did.  <img width="430" height="210" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295d9c7e80680e0458c1jpeg.jpg" alt="">Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai When the earthquake destroyed their home, Pampha Nepali and her children built a little tin shed in the corner of the property and lived there for two years. She toiled in her tailoring shop 12 hours a day, never taking a break, to feed and educate her children.Ideally, Nepali would have signed an agreement with the NRA and got money from the government to build her home. But since the land deeds were not in her name, she was unable to do so. Instead, she took loans from friends and started construction. The money kept running out, and it took her 15 months for the structure, which still lacks a proper roof. Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/surviving-the-aftermath/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Surviving the aftermath</a>, Sonam Choeyki Lama<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa Bhattarai The family has a house to live in, but Pampha Nepali is now starting to worry about paying her loans. Her son just passed Grade 12 and decided to stop studying and start working to help out with expenses. Nepali also worries what will happen to the house when she is no longer around. Everyone knows that the land belongs to my husband and it is mine by right. So I have stayed there by force of will, even though my in-laws continue to ostracise me,” she says. “But I still don’t have the deeds, and they could throw out my children when I am gone.”

A house for the Nepali family

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aE07W6QOG6A&amp;feature=youtu.beIt has been four years, but for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/2000-widows-of-Nepal-earthquake-need-special-attention,2503" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nanmaiju Prajapati</a> it seems like yesterday. She was preparing lunch for her family when their home in Sankhu on the northeastern edge of Kathmandu Valley started shaking violently.It was just before noon on Saturday 25 April, 2015. Prajapati immediately realised it was an earthquake and shouted at everyone to get out of the building.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295d9c7e80680e0458c2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="210"/>Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/3-4th-of-the-sky/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">3/4th of the sky</a>, Editorial<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-better-halves/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Nepal's better halves</a>, Anil Chitrakar<a style="letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px; font-weight: 600;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-alive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying alive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiShe was hit by falling bricks, but made it out. The rest of her family could not leave on time. Her husband, daughter, son-in-law and their two children were all killed. Only her son, Suraj, survived.There was a big roar as buildings in her neighbourhood collapsed in clouds of yellow dust. People were screaming, and there was a fearsome grinding sound from beneath the earth.Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-house-for-the-nepali-family/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The house for the Nepali family</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-gods-for-a-living/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Making gods for a living</a>, Sonia Awale<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/staying-positive/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Staying positive</a>, Sewa BhattaraiPrajapati is now 50, and looked surprisingly composed as she recounted the horror of that day while she knitted a woolen sweater. After living for three years in a tin hut, she has managed to start rebuilding her house.Without her husband, no income, and having lost her land titles and other documents, it was a struggle to rebuild. But she sold her land, and with savings from her knitting work, she managed to put up concrete columns for her future home.“The government hasn’t given us much, so I had to put this together myself,” she says, gesturing at the unfinished first floor that is incomplete even after one year.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811110/636a295f9c7e80680e0458c3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="783">Prajapati says she is reminded of the impermanence of existence by the tragedy. “What do we do with money? We have to leave it all behind when we go, still we need money to survive and to rebuild,” she adds, knitting away.She has tried to get her surviving daughter-in-law, Anita, to also knit to augment the family income, but she says she doesn’t know how to. “Do I knit, or do I take care of the baby?” asks Anita.Prajapati says her son is sick, and cannot work. The house is incomplete but the money is finished and she has to earn by knitting. She says: “I have to do everything around here.”But as the memory of the earthquake and the death and destruction it caused begins to fade, and Nanmaiju Prajati starts coming to terms with the loss, another generation of the family is being raised. It is the baby that gives her hope for the future.

Surviving the aftermath

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4g5rSiWEhMShe was just 19 when she starred in her first movie in Bollywood. As a fresh face from the mountains and with her enormous talent, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0463539/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Manisha Koirala</a> shone in the Indian film industry in the 1990s, winning many prestigious awards.At one point in her busy career, she was doing a dozen movies a year, working exhausting 18-hour days. Fast forward to 2012 through a string of unsuccessful romances and films, a failed marriage, and alcoholism, Manisha came face to face with death.In 2012, she was diagnosed with last-stage ovarian cancer. How she dealt with the crisis and how she came out a survivor, extricating herself not just out of the clutches of the disease, but also the rut that her life had fallen into, is the dominant theme in her new book Healed.Always a headstrong girl with a passion for details and love of nature, Manisha was raised under the loving care of her grandmother <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6808#.XBtl5FUzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Sushila Ama</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=3099#.XBtlwVUzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">B P Koirala’s</a> wife.Growing up with the egalitarian outlook of the Koirala household moulded her.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/6369378a9c7e80680e03fe42jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="174"/>Reaching out to those in need was instilled into her young mind, and it has stayed with her: lending a helping hand, including for cancer patients, or rooting for women’s health and wellbeing as <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://(UNFPA) http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7019#.XBtim1UzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">goodwill ambassador for the UN Population Fund</a>.And now, with <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.amazon.in/Healed-How-Cancer-Gave-Life/dp/0670091979" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Healed</a>, she decided to open up her life and its learnings to benefit the public at large. “Now that I am healed, I wish to help others,” Manisha Koirala told Nepali Times in an interview this week ahead of the Nepal Literature Festival in Pokhara, where her parents will unveil the book on 22 December.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/think-pink-breast%20cancer-diagnosis-treatment,3877" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Think Pink</a>, Sonia AwaleManisha was among the lucky quintile of women who have been diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer but beaten the disease. She has now been cancer free for six years, and now follows a ‘reformed” regimen of meditation, prayer, yoga, pranayama and vegetarian diet, with a huge dollop of mindfulness. She went back to Bollywood after a five year break, and is now focused on taking on fewer, yet more meaningful films.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/6369378b9c7e80680e03fe43jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Manisha considers herself lucky for the unflinching support of her family (especially her parents and brother) and friends, as well as the resources and connections to battle cancer. Cancer treatment is expensive, she says, and wants the Nepal Government to do more on prevention by checking toxic contamination of air, water and food, promote healthier lifestyles, and to  provide world class affordable cancer treatment for the needy. And the rest is up to individuals.“Cancer is not a death sentence, so one should not lose hope,” she says.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=9322#.XBtn01UzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Cancer refuge </a>Healed is co-authored with Neelam Kumar, also a cancer survivor, in which we join Manisha in a roller-coaster ride as she struggles against the disease. Through the highs and lows of her emotions as she learns about the diagnosis in Kathmandu, the confirmation in Mumbai, the final verdict and treatment in New York, and then her slow and bumpy recovery towards being cancer free.In the process, Manisha’s tale meanders through the darkness of her feelings of fear, panic and pain and oscillates between glimmers of hope and shadows of hopelessness.  It is a book of self-discovery, where the author honestly and minutely analyses her own life, her decisions, her ‘toxic relationships’ and  mistakes. It combs through events and people that shaped her, and allowed her to overcome the disease.The fluid narrative borrows on memories of an actress who has starred in over 80 Bollywood movies, and lays bare the ordinary human being behind the trappings of the spotlight and glamour. Nothing is spared, the raw emotions are laid out in agonising detail: her post surgery ‘ruthlessly stapled’ abdomen, the time she lets out a ‘guttural cry’ in the privacy of her shower, or when she likens the agony of the first chemotherapy session to ‘…dark, wild wolves, their mouths open, fangs bared, seeking out each vein of my body, tearing forward at great speed, hell-bent on destruction.’Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Communicati-about-non-communicable-diseases,1153" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Communicating about non-communicable diseases</a>, Elina Pradhan and Bigyan R BistaIt is a frank book, where the movie star has not hesitated to share even not-so-flattering photos of her post-chemo self, sans hair, eyebrows or eyelashes. And all the time as the narrative moves forward, she intersperses it with reflections from the past, detailed description of sights, sounds and smells in the world around her – the sea, sunlight, birds, flowers, forests and mountains, the scent of incense. The book even has descriptions of what her doctors in Kathmandu, Mumbai or New York were wearing.There are tales within tales that make the reader keep turning the pages, whether it is the roles of the magic mala, the Maori healers and the redhot ovaries, the Cherokee parable, the trapped butterfly, or the references to words of wisdom and spiritualism, the mantras, and even quantum physics, that helped her in the path to being healed.We travel along with Manisha as she turns from a ‘weak tree’ to a ‘deep-rooted banyan’ in this journey of self-discovery. We learn from the abundant tips and tricks she shares about self-healing, whether it is ‘visualisations, affirmations, and talking to the body’ or the auto-suggestion of repeating ‘I’m cured, I’m strong, I’m healthy, I’m fine.’<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/6369378e9c7e80680e03fe44jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960">Manisha admits that cancer came into her life ‘as a gift, that left her with many learnings, just like a flooded river that leaves behind rich deposits of silt’. And she shares these learnings with her readers, more so her female readers.She dissects her life choices, her habits, and directs us to pay attention to everyone’s ‘inner compass’, to embrace life and live in the moment just as she learnt to.Healed: How cancer gave me a new lifeManisha Koirala with Neelam KumarPenguin Random House India, 2018INR: 499219 pagesBuy Healed on <a href="https://amzn.to/2rOTmAV" target="_blank" rel="noopener">amazon</a><a href="https://amzn.to/2rOTmAV"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107171148/636937919c7e80680e03fe45jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="307"></a>Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19634#.XBtovVUzbIV" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A win-win battle</a>, Buddha Basnyat<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=12756#.XBtn7VUzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Peaceful end</a>, Jemima Sherpa