“एकादेशमा…” is how every bedtime story that Nepali parents tell children starts. It is a portal to shared childhood memories, and a collective moral code.&nbsp; The stories live in our hearts, and as adults quietly mould the way we see the world. The jolts of everyday life and distance from parents fade treasured oral traditions, and fairy tales that once stitched generations are lost.&nbsp; Some of these tales come to life in Roshan Bhandari’s exhibition, Once Upon A Time / एकादेशमा at Takpa Gallery. Folktales have been transformed into visual stories, showing fables passed down through generations, heard crackling through old radios, and discovered in the pages of well-worn books. Bhandari moves between abstraction and figuration, creating a masterpiece of deliberate fusion. Yet, they remain grounded in the figurative, allowing viewers to follow a narrative thread. The result is a dramatic, emotional landscape of unfolding stories. He explains: “A lot of it is abstract because it carries the soul. And the soul has no shape. You cannot shape the soul and the subconscious. It flows.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061308068_ca93afbf07dc2dac0e8d4a5c7011ddd3c555ba4cce553686700be1fdd3746e11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025061308068_ca93afbf07dc2dac0e8d4a5c7011ddd3c555ba4cce553686700be1fdd3746e11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="Morals in murals NT"> </figure>  The final piece in Bhandari’s previous series, The Story of Mountain - Contemplation, now stands as the opening to this new collection. The painting captures a young girl in a moment of introspection, embodying the quiet inner strength of Nepalis. &nbsp; She is suspended in time, mirroring the weight of everyday life in the mountains, marked by limited access to roads, healthcare, and education. The bold brushwork reflects the layered complexity of her emotions, caught between the harshness of reality and the strength it takes to endure. Around her, mountain goats graze calmly, life goes on, but she pauses. Not necessarily in defeat but in reflection. It is a moment of stillness we so often overlook in our own fast-paced lives. “She’s my kind of Mona Lisa,” Bhandari says with a broad smile. The aggression of the brushstrokes speaks to the intensity of her struggles, while the vibrant colour palette suggests that there is hope even in hardship. Life, the painting reminds us, is a balance between chaos and calm. Whispers of Nature tells the story of a radiant woman from the Tarai who can speak to birds and animals, but is an outcast, accused of witchcraft.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025061308068_31790cb4120cfe78f79e868fccbfa91617bf534acb4b9e339f1fb5a6d57ced53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025061308068_31790cb4120cfe78f79e868fccbfa91617bf534acb4b9e339f1fb5a6d57ced53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="Morals in murals NT"> </figure>  A Tale of Virtue and Reward on the other hand highlights the timeless truth that compassion, even when quietly practiced, never goes unnoticed. It portrays the contrasting outcomes of benevolence and malevolence -- a moral reflection on how the intentions behind our actions shape the fate that follows. Many of the wildlife-inspired tales in Bhandari’s work echoes a bygone era, when humans and animals lived in closer harmony. Though fantasy made animals talk, reason and relate, the core of these stories remain real. They make us ponder the growing rift between humans and nature today. &nbsp; Tied by Love, Freed by Empathy echo themes of freedom, coexistence, and justice, while From Humble Roots to Golden Roads offers lessons in how small acts of goodness can pave the way to hopeful outcomes. Each piece carries tales of timeless truths and its own distinct moral core. “Roshan Bhandari’s visual form is incredibly attractive. There is a sense of movement within the paintings, almost as if something is alive inside them,” says Tsherin Sherpa, artist and founder of Takpa. “The narratives are woven in such a unique and engaging way. These age-old stories are presented through a contemporary visual lens, which makes them feel both timeless and fresh.” &nbsp; Once Upon A Time / एकादेशमा Till 21 June Tuesday-Thursday: 11AM-6PM Friday-Sunday: 11AM-7PM Closed on Mondays Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat

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Morals in murals

When Tsherin Sherpa was growing up, his grandmother told him tales about spirits that were attached to mountains and rivers. That bond with the spiritual resides deep within Sherpa’s psyche still, and informs his art to a large degree. After living and working painting thangkas professionally in the United States for 10 years, he realised that he wanted to use the skills he had developed after years in that rigid art form to paint in his own voice, and comment on personal, political, and social issues. “I saw exhibitions adapting traditional art techniques, and thought I could do something similar with thangka,” Sherpa told us in an interview at Takpa Gallery in Lazimpat, which is showing Spirits in Transition, his latest work. “I realized that I needed a secular form of art to communicate to a non-Buddhist, non-Nepali audience.” Sherpa returned to Nepal in 2018, and a lot had changed in the 20 years he had been away, and so had he. The changes in Nepal were both good and bad, but the artist decided to focus on the positive. He was commissioned by the Visit Nepal 2020 Campaign to make 108 larger-than-life fiberglass sculptures of the yeti mascot to be displayed in public places. But because of the pandemic, the Visit Nepal campaign was shelved. The yetis vanished, but not before stirring some controversy because some of them had religious motifs deemed to be irreverent. This was an attempt to create a buzz around Nepal's tourism by having a mascot, just like Berlin’s Buddy Bear, or the New York Cow Parade. But many Nepalis were not exactly ready for it. These days, many of Sherpa’s paintings and sculptures have the figures blowing pink bubble gum. Intrigued, we ask him about it. “It’s a small, modest object that can signify a lot,” he explains. “In my art it tells about the modern time, and also lends a certain playfulness to a rather serious art piece.” He adds, “Having said that, I love it when viewers relate to it in their own way. People see what they see: nobody’s perception of the art is valid or invalid.” Although rooted in Nepali and Tibetan devotional art, Sherpa’s work transcends cultures. It is as if the spirits travelled with the artist to the US, and returned after assimilating the new world. “In our generation, the West had a grandeur about it. We had limited media and no internet, and thought West was best,” he says. “What I found in the US was that many of my heroes, like George Lucas, were inspired by the East. I realised that I had been ignoring my own identity.” Sherpa noticed that the new generation already regarded all cultures, heritage and identity as being valuable, and none of them were superior to any other. “Look at any of my spirits,” he says. “You can see their posture. There’s a confidence, a self-pride in who they are.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241212091252_3a6582865573e0ccf9935b76751a3bcbff99b3ce143da9551fb29801fdd7539b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5163" height="4313" loading="lazy" alt="Tsherin Sherpa"><figcaption>Photo: RICCARDO TOSETTO(Photo: Riccardo Tosetto)© Riccardo Tosetto Photography</figcaption></figure>  For the artist, this exhibition also represents a transition as he explores what creative arena he wants to pursue next. He says, “In Buddhism, when a person dies, there is a 49 day period called ‘bardo’ before the consciousness takes rebirth. This work is also a transition, like a layover on a long flight.” All of the paintings at the Spirits in Transition exhibition have already been booked, by the same collector. Each painting takes Sherpa about a week. He starts with a small drawing of a figure, and undertakes a rigorous step-by-step process, influenced by his thangka background. “Once I find a posture I like, I keep playing around,” he says. “Painting the pattern on the spirit takes at least four layers. The first is almost translucent, and each layer adds vibrancy and makes the colours pop. This is the most time consuming part. I add the bubblegum last.” And what’s with the fiery red hair? Sherpa remembers while learning the discipline of thangka, there were very strict, rigid rules. Every line had to be exactly how it should be. But with the bubble gum and red hair, he says he wants to explore an abstract, fluid aspect. Sherpa is drawing from a technique he first did in Grade 3: dipping a thread in ink or watercolour, and dragging it across the page. “It’s what I paint last, because the red hair has to be done in one stroke. You can’t make mistakes. There is no room for a correction.” The artist uses 3D generated models to decide on the postures, starting with a skeleton, and adding features to the shape. “I am very bad at drawing straight from imagination,” he adds, laughing. Despite modern elements in Sherpa’s work, keen viewers can detect elements of thangka painting: rocks, water, curly clouds. And all figures wear snake jewelry. In the context of a thangka painting, that represents conquering your anger. Tiger skins represent overcoming fear. “After I came back to Nepal, I started combining my protector series with the spirit. The meaning is: whatever we are on the outside, we carry an appreciation for our identity on the inside,” he says. He just follows his instincts when painting and lets his imagination take over. He says, “My style has emerged out of a collision of thangka, comics, and Bollywood. I read a lot of Marvel and DC when I was young, and hand-painted billboards of Bollywood movies at the movie theatre fascinated me." Spirits in Transition by Tsherin Sherpa Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat Until 29 December 11am-7pm (Friday to Sunday) 11am-6pm (Tuesday to Thursday)

Vishad Raj Onta

Tsherin Sherpa in body and spirit

Gregor Samsa wakes up from his bed one day and realises he has changed into an insect. This is the opening act of Franz Kafka’s novella ‘The Metamorphosis’. Gregor now has to navigate his life as an insect and he sees a change in how the world including his family views him and alternatively, him the world and himself. One of the opening paintings of Hannah Grace’s solo exhibition has amoeba-like patterns in vibrant colours. Upon closer look, viewers find a grasshopper in the right corner. The grasshopper is a misfit and yet seems to belong there. Grace tells us she sees herself as the grasshopper navigating a symmetric world. Kafka’s Gregor metamorphosing into a bug symbolises his alienation from society resulting from the exploitation he faced all his life. Grace’s paintings, on the other hand explore <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-struggles-to-balance-nature-and-industry">human exploitation of the natural </a>world, to a point where both are in irreversible decline.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-nation-built-on-sand">A nation built on sand</a>, Ramesh Kumar In her ‘Where My Home and Allegiance Lie’ exhibition at Takpa Gallery, Grace brings California’s Napa Valley to Kathmandu through depictions of living organisms in vivid detail. The artworks are precise, albeit repetitive, and create a “sense of buzz” like she experienced as a dyslexic child.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024081412088_70087676d9e0d3a2c938653662aaeb5a1f8c874b46a6bb33a01d37408893fbc1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024081412088_70087676d9e0d3a2c938653662aaeb5a1f8c874b46a6bb33a01d37408893fbc1" data-rendition-name="original" width="3106" height="2337" loading="lazy" alt="Where My Home and Allegiance Lies NT "> </figure>  Growing up in the Grace Family Vineyards founded by her grandparent Dick Grace, she learned early on about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/families-that-farm-together-stay-together">sustainable agriculture</a> and practiced “compassionate animal husbandry” from her parents. This upbringing later turned into passion as she pursued environmental science in college. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-vanishing-land">The vanishing land</a>, Taylor Mason Even then, something was missing, and Grace decided to take on studio art. “Science helps me understand where I fit in the world and art helps me explore and showcase the interaction I have with nature,” the 25-year-old artist told us. Interestingly, in a painting titled ‘A Place Called Home’, Grace puts together a diagram of an ecosystem which has an uncanny resemblance to a mandala, like the ones in<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-nepals-lost-and-the-found"> Buddhist artworks</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240814110824_044b06bc590dcd8b2abf406ea2711b8a267a29c3bd9683f48fe34d6577e1cdd6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240814110824_044b06bc590dcd8b2abf406ea2711b8a267a29c3bd9683f48fe34d6577e1cdd6" data-rendition-name="original" width="2872" height="2831" loading="lazy" alt="Where My Home and Allegiance Lies NT 3"> </figure>  “Buddhist paintings were part of my childhood. It felt natural to do that,” says Grace as she talks about how her grandparents who frequent Nepal to support <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/changing-disability-to-this-ability">disabled children</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepali-women-flee-abuse-for-overseas-work">abuse survivours</a>, and children with cancer had Mandala paintings on their walls.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-mandal-in-manhattan">Nepal Mandal in Manhattan</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit “For me, the circular expression of the mandala represents the cyclic life of the ecosystem,” she adds. In 2016, Grace came to Nepal herself and volunteered in a monastery, teaching English, mathematics and art to the young monks. Eight years later, Nepal is also where she chose to exhibit her art for the first time as a professional.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240814120816_5f3ac03dd3dbf33b0aecc2837ea24fe7eb02a0585d9519d8b8d2343aeb6f3196.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240814120816_5f3ac03dd3dbf33b0aecc2837ea24fe7eb02a0585d9519d8b8d2343aeb6f3196" data-rendition-name="original" width="5689" height="4271" loading="lazy" alt="Where My Home and Allegiance Lies NT 4"> </figure>  Most of the paintings here are acrylic, but Grace has experimented with different techniques for unique texture and feel. In ‘Fantom Flowers’, she used her fingers to paint the background, while for ‘Rainbow Trout and the Rainbow’ and ‘Salmonberry Thorn’, she used beads. “I have always liked mixing and matching colours, and trying out different tools which give me different sensory inputs. It is exciting and calming at the same time,” says Grace of her methods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240814120816_babb538f7136ded1ccf44b09e99910ca6743d2aa07513c5422f66f5720cfd94b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20240814120816_babb538f7136ded1ccf44b09e99910ca6743d2aa07513c5422f66f5720cfd94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2627" height="3318" loading="lazy" alt="Where My Home and Allegiance Lies NT 5"> </figure>  All 15 artworks at the exhibit are bright, colourful and vibrant even as the artist is trying to portray a grim future brought on by anthropogenic ‘development’ and ‘progress’. Grace says it is a strategic move. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/vibrant-mithila-art-thrives-in-nepal">Vibrant Mithila art thrives in Nepal</a>, Anita Bhetwal  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240814120828_4f1d75cc31b5117a397bfee3cc975345a08a1ceef398f335caa68a2de8a40c95.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20240814120828_4f1d75cc31b5117a397bfee3cc975345a08a1ceef398f335caa68a2de8a40c95" data-rendition-name="original" width="451" height="638" loading="lazy" alt="Where My Home and Allegiance Lies NT 6"> </figure>  She adds, “This is a prayer for the future. I want to remind people of all the beautiful things that exist simultaneously with us in nature and do our part in preserving them.” Where My Home and Allegiance Lies 11AM-7PM (Fridays to Sundays) 11AM-6PM &nbsp;(Tuesdays to Thursdays) Till 25 August&nbsp; Takpa Gallery&nbsp;

Pinki Sris Rana

Artistic prayer for our common future

Photographer Tashi R Ghale is known for his work in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/studying-snow-leopards-in-Nepal/1000">protecting snow leopards</a> through which he won the Disney Conservation Hero Award in 2018. During his research he saw the impact of climate breakdown in the Himalaya with receding glaciers and melting ice that was affecting the traditional habitat of the snow leopard. &nbsp; “I notice that global warming is bringing other species to snow leopard territory. Common leopards move up, and Himalayan grey wolves come down,” says Ghale, known for his exquisite <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/snow-leopard-redux">photographic documentation of the rare snow leopards</a> in Manang. Lowland leopards are now overlapping with snow leopards and competing for prey. But for his new photo exhibition ‘Shifting Perspectives’, Ghale has shifted gears — changing his focus from snow leopards to the impact of climate change.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240515060528_dc4b5af0dc39e6d104175f691035201a3863cfefe2b8193ac44c88511023b3e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240515060528_dc4b5af0dc39e6d104175f691035201a3863cfefe2b8193ac44c88511023b3e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1538" loading="lazy" alt="Ice to water NT"> <figcaption>Tashi R Ghale (right) with artist Tsherin Sherpa of Takpa gallery at the inauguration of the exhibition on 11 May. Photo: @tsedorje </figcaption> </figure>  But he uses his photographic skills, this time with more of an artistic eye than just for documentation purposes. He has captured some striking images of Gangapurna Lake in Manang to convey the impact of the rising temperatures on the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/nepal-pallas-cat,1934">Himalayan ecology</a>. The images in Shifting Perspectives which are on exhibit at Takpa Gallery are close-ups of ice on the shores of Gangapurna Lake, which itself is expanding as the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">glacier recedes rapidly</a> up the mountain.&nbsp; Ghale has captured ephemeral bubbles, ripples, currents, shapes and textures of ice on the lake, and are separated into three categories: Illusion, Composition, and Frozen.&nbsp; Ghale used powerful telephoto lenses to zoom in on snow leopards, but here he uses macro lenses for extreme closeups.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240515060540_be31d82614bfadd01f573ff4daa3a40ed24afcc2fe3003a6f1b1d1622c517615.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240515060540_be31d82614bfadd01f573ff4daa3a40ed24afcc2fe3003a6f1b1d1622c517615" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Ice to water NT"> </figure>  One of his pictures, ‘Illusion VI,’ shows clusters of bubbles of various sizes entombed in ice just below the surface, casting small shadows on the lake floor.&nbsp; ‘Illusion III,’ has the dark blue, green and purple lake as the background while frozen ripples have formed in the ice that look like contour lines on a map.&nbsp; Some of the most striking images in the exhibition feature a contrast between warm and cool colours. ‘Frozen I’ shows ice-bound waves that catch the golden rays of the sunrise sending streaks of light in the direction the water was moving before it froze. ‘Composition I’ shows sunrise on the north face of Gangapurna reflected in the icy surface of the lake, the roughness of the ice giving the photograph an impressionist touch.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240515060528_5a24c2a63fa09d5e2beee9e20cb5d93398e93636f41ca3028ddf18de7ab33bfa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240515060528_5a24c2a63fa09d5e2beee9e20cb5d93398e93636f41ca3028ddf18de7ab33bfa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Ice to water NT"> </figure>  Other photos show mountains reflected partly on the water and the frozen surface of the lake. The contrast between the hard ice and the flowing water underneath is visual poetry — making us notice the turbulence of the water flowing beneath the smooth and unmoving ice.&nbsp; One element present in most of the photographs is that of ice next to mud on the shore with jagged textures. “During the night, the ice freezes hard into the ground, and in the morning it melts away but the patterns formed in the mud stay,” explains Ghale. ‘Composition IV,’ looks like a drone photograph of a big river flowing through jagged hills, but a leaf in the bottom right corner gives away the scale. The exhibition truly presents shifting perspectives using closeups of the ice and water as a metaphor for the larger scale impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">global warming</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240516060556_446298e12391d3c45cdce8e4f1e4d1182afd5e653d000ff30a86e815b0f89ca2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240516060556_446298e12391d3c45cdce8e4f1e4d1182afd5e653d000ff30a86e815b0f89ca2" data-rendition-name="original" width="3600" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Composition VII"> <figcaption>Composition VII</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240516080520_3a69d2644dd6f0105ec367e9445eb6acedf94ce84225d5e5aa75c066d5ae06e8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240516080520_3a69d2644dd6f0105ec367e9445eb6acedf94ce84225d5e5aa75c066d5ae06e8" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Ice to Water"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240516080520_5ae61de1167da77d411c2bed91ba24c09d39017dd13972aa4be530b7a48598f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240516080520_5ae61de1167da77d411c2bed91ba24c09d39017dd13972aa4be530b7a48598f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2400" height="2400" loading="lazy" alt="Ice to water"> </figure>  &nbsp;Shifting Perspectives 11AM-6PM Tuesday-Thursday 11AM-7PM Friday-Sunday Until 26 May Takpa Gallery, Lazimpat <a href="https://takpagallery.com/">https://takpagallery.com</a>

Ice to water

The art scene in Nepal is witnessing a renaissance, and at the centre of this resurgence is <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/The-world-beyond-thangkas,3139">Tsherin Sherpa</a>, the internationally renowned artist known for his distinctive, and sometimes provocative, fusion of traditional and contemporary. Sherpa has now embarked on a new chapter in his career by returning to Nepal to open <a href="http://www.takpagallery.com/">Takpa</a>, Kathmandu’s newest art gallery strategically located in Lazimpat. ‘Takpa’ is a playful spin on the Buddhist expression of ‘Mitakpa’ which means impermanence. So, Takpa is permanence and for Sherpa this name encapsulates his exploration of the dynamic interplay between the sacred and the secular and reflecting his journey from traditional thangka painting to the unique, hybrid approach he eventually mastered. “Growing up, I never thought I would be an artist. My father was an established thangka painter, and he always wanted to hand over his knowledge to one of the children. For better or worse, it happened to be me,” quips Sherpa who started <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">painting thangkas</a> at 12.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023083104084_36f4866caba6ddf21f17b1c3ef85a936ef4797b11b3a844db1c95db0ef9fc2ac.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023083104084_36f4866caba6ddf21f17b1c3ef85a936ef4797b11b3a844db1c95db0ef9fc2ac" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Takpa Gallery"> </figure>  But in the late 1990s venerated thangka art was becoming commodified as in tourist souvenir shops. “I was discouraged seeing this, and did not want to follow my father’s footsteps,” recalls Sherpa who enrolled in a computer science course in Taipei and later went to the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/us-nepali-art">United States</a> in 1998 to live there for the next 20 years. Away from home, Sherpa needed an emotional outlet which he found in art. He visited museums and exhibitions, and rediscovered the real sacred significance of thangka paintings.&nbsp; Two exhibitions of South Asian and Chinese art pushed him to experiment with traditional techniques like Chinese brush in contemporary art. &nbsp; But Sherpa does not regret his Computer Science degree, in fact it allowed him to integrate technology into his art. He explains, “Computer science actually helped me visualise my work, allowing me to spend less time drawing sketch after sketch. I do one sketch, scan it, work on the computer and finalise it.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023083104084_b7cd3d76c665505d343a523cbb911185159514dde895797dfc984e1f5a95fa37.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023083104084_b7cd3d76c665505d343a523cbb911185159514dde895797dfc984e1f5a95fa37" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Takpa Gallery"> </figure>  <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-craft-of-art">Sherpa’s shift</a> from traditional thangka painting has been shaped by encounters with diverse art forms during his time in the United States.&nbsp; For instance, his first experience of painting something non-traditional was a marketing poster for Jamba Juice. This made him realise that he could go beyond the traditional confines to express himself and bridge the gap between older and modern art forms. Sherpa now divides his time between California and Kathmandu and draws inspiration from diverse cross-cultural lifestyles to imbue vitality in his artistic expression.&nbsp; “Your work becomes stagnant if you are just in one place. Travelling allows me to go to new places and learn, so I keep moving,” he says. And yet, each of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/god-and-superman">Sherpa’s works</a> is a visual representation of his heritage. The modernised thangka themes represent his heritage and identity.&nbsp; Collaboration has become a hallmark of Sherpa's artistic approach, and he works with local artisans to develop skills and offer them platforms to exhibit. His tie-up with traditional copper repoussé artists after the 2015 earthquake resulted in exhibitions spanning continents and landing collaborative work at the Rubin Museum in New York. Back in 2018 when he relocated back to Nepal, Sherpa noticed that there were not enough platforms for emerging artists to showcase talent. In 2022, Nepal participated in the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-pavilion-afloat-in-venice">Venice Biennale</a> for the first time, where Sherpa collaborated with many local artists, sculptors and installations, providing them with the exposure they deserved.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023083104084_961a0d2fecc3aecf134463af308fbddefbb83b781d025d46de32c2532b455128.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2023083104084_961a0d2fecc3aecf134463af308fbddefbb83b781d025d46de32c2532b455128" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Takpa Gallery"> </figure>  Takpa is an extension of this collaboration with Nepali artists, which comes after <a href="https://windhorseartgallery.com/">Windhorse Gallery in Jhamsikhel</a> which he also had a hand in opening three years ago. Takpa is currently showing artist Pooja Duwal’s first solo art exhibition Stranger Is a Friend.&nbsp; Takpa also showcases Tsherin Sherpa’s work from time to time, but the artist says his main intention is to help Nepali artists.&nbsp; “I am more visible internationally and I want to use that opportunity to create a platform for other emerging artists so they get more visibility,” he says.&nbsp; Sherpa also has a non-profit, the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/HimalyanARTinitiative/">Himalayan Art Initiative</a> that provides training to young artists in Nepal teaching both traditional thangka painting as well as contemporary art styles.&nbsp; He says, “If there is potential, we showcase the work at our gallery and then internationally. It all comes back to not letting art die.” Strangers no more With an array of both large and small oil on canvas and charcoal created in six months, Pooja Duwal’s exhibition Stranger Is a Friend invites viewers to contemplate the transformation of Bhaktapur.&nbsp; The charcoals are strikingly monochromatic and melancholic, and are a commentary on what Nepal risks losing in its frenzied march to modernity. The portraits depict Duwal’s family members, with her sister as a recurring muse. These alla prima creations exude an immediacy and authenticity.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023083104088_306323233dbbe6603137a258741e36e1d29d19d98c5722573a779ade93b0471a.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2023083104088_306323233dbbe6603137a258741e36e1d29d19d98c5722573a779ade93b0471a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1927" height="1207" loading="lazy" alt="Takpa Gallery"> </figure>  &nbsp;Duwal paints Bhaktapur’s labyrinthine alleys and hidden corners meticulously capturing the mundane yet profoundly meaningful everyday activities: laundry drying a terrace, people sipping tea, reading a newspaper or strolling down by a pond.&nbsp; Stranger is a Friend is a visual documentary of the tangible and intangible threads, and an enduring spirit in life’s fleeting moments. In two pieces, Duwal employs diptychs and triptychs, weaving together narratives that transcend individual frames, drawing viewers to complex connections between specific instances, individuals, and the city itself. Duwal's art serves as a reminder to slow down and savour memories and moments of life as time races by. The paintings offer a haven for contemplation.

Tsherin Sherpa returns home to Takpa

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

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Only 70 years ago, Kathmandu was the isolated capital of a country that had no modern surface transport link with the rest of the world.&nbsp; The idea of building a road to connect Nepal with India actually first came up during the last years of the Rana regime, after the British had left India. Construction actually began in 1952, and the serpentine route took five years to complete.&nbsp; Named Tribhuvan Rajpath, after the reigning king who initiated it, the alignment was from Thankot (1,301 m) at the western edge of the Kathmandu Valley to Nagdunga, Naubise, Tistung, Palung, Daman, Sim Bhanjyang (2,504m), Lamidanda, and Bhainse.&nbsp; At Bhainse, the highway joined the existing road to Bhimphedi and it was another 31km to Hetauda and Amlekhganj. There was a railway line between Amlekhganj and Birganj.&nbsp; After regular bus and truck service from Raxaul to Kathmandu began in 1961, the entire road popularly became known as the Tribhuvan Rajpath.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The village of Chitlang on the main route to Kathmandu before the Rajpath was built. In the distance is the Chandragiri ridge above Thankot. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Chronology&nbsp;</h2> (Based on US State Department cables and media reports) November 1945: Gen Bahadur SJB Rana asked an American official if a road could be constructed from the Indian border to Kathmandu. Nepal wanted such a road built across the mountains after first constructing an East-West artery road in the Tarai, and the government was interested in purchasing US surplus war equipment. Gen Rana inquired if there were US firms who could conduct a survey. April 1947: The Nepal government told a US official it was important to upgrade the 20-mile trail from Bhimphedi over the mountains to the Kathmandu Valley into an all-weather road and sought an estimate from the US for doing so. May 1948: Bijaya SJB Rana informed a US official that a survey for a one-lane motor road between Kathmandu and the Tarai had been completed. The road was to follow the Bagmati River to Makwanpur, then connect at Bhimphedi with the road to Amlekhgunj. The road from Tripureswor to Bhainse along the Bagmati River and via Bhimphedi would have been about 60km. (The distance from Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath is 122 km.)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The road climbing the hills toward its destination of Kathmandu. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  July 1948: The government decided to go ahead and build a motorable road from Amlekhganj to Thankot and complete it in two years. December 1948: Construction of the motor road from Kathmandu to Amlekhgunj via the Bagmati River corridor was started. April 1949: Gen Singha SJB Rana told a US official that the motor road from Kathmandu to the Tarai and the Indo-Nepal border would be completed by the spring of 1950. February 1950: Nepal sanctioned Rs300,000 to make the 6-foot-wide road from Kathmandu along the Bagmati River to Hetauda. Of this, Rs100,000 was allocated for road-building material and machinery. Subsequently, the road would be developed into a broader motorable road at a cost of Rs7.5 million. February 1952: Nepal’s budget speech noted that a plan was underway for a road between Bhainse and Kathmandu. PM Matrika Prasad Koirala laid a foundation stone near Teku for construction of the ‘Kathmandu Hetauda Roadway’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Rajpath winding its way north of Bhainse. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  February 1952: A party of Indian engineers came to Nepal to determine the best route for a road from Raxaul to Kathmandu. March 1952: Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru told Parliament: “So far as India’s security is concerned, we consider the Himalayan mountains as our border.” Ministry of External Affairs official (S.N. Hakar) told a US official that the Indian government was willing to proceed with constructing the Raxaul-Kathmandu road and had sent a survey party to determine the most suitable mountain route. May 1952: Swiss experts had made surveys for a proposed new road between Bhimphedi and Thankot. Nepal government requested financial help to build the road, and India was considering the project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>With a constant stream of trucks, buses and jeeps, the narrow Rajpath once was Nepal's busiest highway. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Summer 1952: Work on a new road was at a standstill, so Nepal asked India for assistance. Indian engineers surveyed two routes: one following the Bagmati River, the other road through Daman that was later adopted. July 1952: Nepal’s Ministry of Planning decided to construct a road between Kathmandu and Raxaul, awaiting Cabinet approval soon. Prime Minister Matrika Koirala said the proposed road was longer than necessary, but it was a better route ‘for strategic reasons’, because it did not require many bridges. August 1952: King Tribhuvan said road construction from Kathmandu to Bhimphedi would “begin soon”. September 1952: An Indian Military Team began construction of the Kathmandu-Bhainse road without a formal agreement being signed with the Nepal government.&nbsp; February 1953: The Indian Ambassador said the road would be hard surfaced within a year. September 1953: Prime Minister Matrika Koirala inspected the completion of a ‘jeepable track’. December 1953: The road was named ‘Tribhuvan Rajpath’. April 1954: Reports circulated that Swiss engineers criticised the alignment, arguing it would have been easier, faster, and cheaper to build over the existing foot trail between Bhimphedi and Thankot through Kulekhani. July 1954: Heavy monsoon rain damaged much of the roadway that had been built.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="1123" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Crown Prince Mahendra inspecting construction progress on the Tribhuvan Rajpath in October 1954. Photo: ROYAL PALACE</figcaption> </figure>  November 1954: The Indian ambassador said flood damage was so great that the road would be delayed by two years. May 1955: Twenty military trucks brought rice from Amlekhganj to Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath. King Tribhuvan died in Zurich. December 1956: A gravel road was completed, with trucks and buses plying between Amlekhganj and Kathmandu. December 1956: Nepal government abolished regulations that required Nepali nationals to carry permits for travel within Nepal, except for women below the age of 45. 1957: Reduction in price of goods carried to Kathmandu by truck: Sugar, Rs0.13 per kg. Wheat flour Rs0.13 per kg. Kerosene Rs0.25 per litre. February 1957: An article in The Motherland newspaper in Kathmandu noted urgent action was needed to avoid Kathmandu being cut off from the Tarai during the monsoon. The correspondent wrote, ‘In a recent journey from Amlekhganj I found that almost all the bridges are in a very bad state…Now, because of the dry rivers the scores of vehicles that ply the road cross the rivers on the water level. But during monsoons… these rivers will be impossible to cross without bridges. On the road itself, landslides and big holes have made the journey a great undertaking.” April 1957: The first regular passenger bus left Amlekhganj at 12:30PM and arrived in Kathmandu completing a journey of 14 hours.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df" data-rendition-name="original" width="5211" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Daman, one of the highest points on the Rajpath, often saw snow in winter. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c" data-rendition-name="original" width="648" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Travelers could view the Himalayas from a view tower at Daman. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  June 1957: Eight thousand Nepali workers and about 500 Indian Army personnel were at work on the road.&nbsp; 30 June 1957: India officially handed the road over to Nepal. India had spent INR32.5 million on the project.&nbsp; January 1958: The road from Amlekhganj to Bhainse was upgraded. July 1961: The gravel road from Raxaul to Birganj was blacktopped. Trucks began transporting goods from Raxaul directly to Kathmandu, avoiding the need for transshipment from train to truck in Amlekhganj, or use the ropeway from Bhimphedi. 1961: Passengers could travel from Raxaul to Kathmandu in a day, whereas it took a week by train to Amlekhganj, bus to Bhimphedi and then on foot. September 1962: Nepal’s 3-Year Plan aimed at broadening and black-topping the road between Bhainse and Raxaul, bypassing the Chure tunnel, and constructing several bridges along the route. 1963: Travelers going to Kathmandu by land: Road, 158,000, Nepal Government Railway, 66,500. Railway passenger service ended in June 1965.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1344" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>A bus providing ‘deluxe service’ in 1963 is ready to leave Amlekhganj for Kathmandu. Note the railway tracks of the Nepal Government Railway. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1352" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Vehicles found it difficult to pass on many parts of the Rajpath in 1963. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>  1965: Tribhuvan Highway was considered a useful addition to Nepal’s economic infrastructure, but it could not act as a prime mover in the nation’s economic development. It did play a major role in the 1960s in transporting material and equipment needed to implement development projects in the Kathmandu Valley. September 1966: Nepal took over maintenance of the Tribhuvan Rajpath from the Indian Aid Mission.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397" data-rendition-name="original" width="1764" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Trees still lined the Rajpath near Thankot in 1967. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  1971: A UN-Nepal study said the best alignment for an alternative road was from Kathmandu, Pharping, Kulekhani, Bhimphedi to Bhainse. 1975: Nepal's Department of Roads’ engineer concluded: ‘The Tribhuvan Rajpath has been built without design speed consideration… The pavement was not constructed to any designed standard… irrespective of quality of material, and later the road was black topped without consideration of traffic intensity and load-bearing capacity of sub-base… utilisation of low-quality material in the Bhainse-Thankot section… Quality control was neither maintained in Bhainse-Thankot nor the Bhainse-Raxaul section. Local materials were used irrespective of their quality to complete the work in the earliest possible time and in the cheapest possible manner. Brick work was done in negligible quantity. Cement used was ordinary portland cement…’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2368" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Bhainse in 2017. The road divided here, one going to Bhimphedi on the right, the main road proceeding to Kathmandu on the left. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294" data-rendition-name="original" width="649" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Highway info NT"> </figure>  Even 70 years after it was built, there is still speculation about India's security concerns vis-a-vis China, and how Indian Army engineers purposely made the road longer than it needed to be over the 2,500 Sim Bhanjyang pass instead of following the river route.&nbsp; There is also some evidence that although the Rana regime had first requested the US for help with the highway, Nehru did not want the Americans involved in Nepal. Which is why the Tribhuvan Highway became an Indian military project.&nbsp; There was similar concern from India about the Kodari Highway linking Kathmandu to China, and King Mahednra is famously supposed to have said: "Communism will not come here in a taxi."&nbsp; Geopolitics still affects Nepal's strategic highways. After decades, links to China are still rough and often blocked. Kathmandu-Tarai Fast Track is delayed by years, and not expected to be completed during this decade. Trucks and buses still bypass the Tribuvan Highway with a 200km detour via Mugling because the other alternative routes like the Tika Bhairav or Chhaimale routes are not suitable for heavy vehicles.&nbsp; The shortcut through Chitlang that the Swiss proposed in the 1950s is still too difficult. And a 25km section of the Japanese-built BP Highway to the eastern Tarai has been knocked out by the 202 flood. Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the fourth instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

The long and winding road to India

Nepalis are insured but not covered

Sudan Gurung is dancing. It is 2009. He has an emo fringe falling over one eye and is spinning on a polished floor. His dance shows dedication — moves that take years of bruised elbows to land. The clip is 16 years old, and had been sitting in the dead archives of YouTube and old Facebook pages, watched by almost nobody. This month <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">it has 1.9 million views</a>. Because Gurung is now Home Minister, and is embroiled in a scandal barely two months into office. Within days of becoming an RSP candidate, his pre-political life became public and was put back into circulation. The b-boying, the DJ sets, and the YouTube video of him dancing in a music clip. The youth of Nepal, well-versed in snappy TikTok edits and aura compilations, immediately turned to making <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@aayvik/video/7626069452177542408">videos of Sudan Gurung's swag</a>.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178" data-rendition-name="original" width="2300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"></figure>  TikTok remixed the footage to trap beats. The comments settled on a nickname that has now crossed into everyday speech: ‘Homie Minister’. <div class="embed-block"><blockquote class="tiktok-embed" cite="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal/video/7622325255792512276" data-video-id="7622325255792512276" style="max-width: 605px;min-width: 325px;"> <section><a target="_blank" title="@yalexthwreal" href="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal?refer=embed">@yalexthwreal</a> <a title="sudangurung" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangurung?refer=embed">#sudangurung</a> new home minister of Nepal😎 <a title="fyppppppppppppppppppppppp" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/fyppppppppppppppppppppppp?refer=embed">#fyppppppppppppppppppppppp</a> <a title="sudangrg" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangrg?refer=embed">#sudangrg</a> <a title="home" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/home?refer=embed">#home</a> <a title="minister" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/minister?refer=embed">#minister</a> <a target="_blank" title="♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧" href="https://www.tiktok.com/music/original-sound-%E2%80%A2%E2%AA%A8%D0%BD-%D1%94-%CE%B1-%D1%8F-%D1%82-%E2%9D%A4%D0%BD-%CE%B1-%C2%A2-%D0%BA-%D1%94-%D1%8F-%E2%AA%A9%E2%80%A2-7308733170064231170?refer=embed">♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧</a> </section></blockquote> <script async src="https://www.tiktok.com/embed.js"></script></div> Home Minister Gurung is in charge of the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force, Department of Immigration, and the country's internal security apparatus. Calling him ‘homie’ collapses the distance between that office and the Discord server where the movement that brought him into power organised itself. What is harder to explain is why these nostalgic clips are doing the narrative work for Gurung's political standing. A teenager on a dance floor in a Thamel club, filmed before smartphones had decent cameras, is now functioning as political currency for a powerful, but embattled, home minister. The footage is not an argument. Gurung is not doing anything in it that relates to home affairs. He is just dancing. The comments compare him to <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">Korean film heroes</a>. A separate <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@tandavyt7/video/7622151050128018708">48,000-like edit</a> is captioned ‘Our New Home Minister Aura’. The replies are full of people saying they get chills listening to him speak. Political legitimacy in Nepal has been built out of many things over the last 70 years, but it has never been built out of this. The question is: what happens when the job starts demanding things his style, boldness, and swag cannot provide. Because political aura in Nepal used to be a slow harvest, now it isn’t. BP Koirala spent eight years in prison under the Panchayat. He wrote fiction at Sundari Jal. The writing survived, the prison sentences survived, and that experience became the template for what a serious Nepali politician looked like: someone the state had tried to break and failed. Legitimacy was accumulated by having their lives taken away, and refusing to bend the knee. The old mechanics of legitimacy produced politicians who could be audited. The record was made of words, dates, votes, and years behind bars. A voter who wanted to know what a leader stood for could read his writings. A journalist digging for inconsistency had somewhere to look. The system was slow, often corrupt, and frequently boring. In fact, boring used to come with the job. A minister was supposed to be slightly dull — evidence that the person was doing the unglamorous work of reading files and sitting through committee meetings. Today, boring is a disqualification. The attention economy rewards velocity and visual charge, a politician who cannot generate either does not exist in the feed, and that means does not exist at all. The legacy parties are still issuing press statements criticising the new guard in the grammar of paper trails and procedural failure. But the audience has stopped reading, they scroll for their next viral bite. Sudan Gurung, unlike the old parties, understands exactly which grammar the feed rewards. Just look at what he has been up to. On his first evening as Home Minister, he posted a photo of himself sleeping on a sofa inside the ministry. Caption: creation cannot be greater than the creator, government is not above the people. The image travelled further in 12 hours than any ministerial press release has ever done. A minister napping on a sofa, phone-shot, zero production, read by the public as evidence of a minister who had skipped the motorcade and got straight to work. Gurung used Facebook to announce, the names of former ministers and businessmen he intended to arrest. Each name was posted before the arrest, not after. The feed became the announcement venue for state security action.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="926" height="868" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"></figure>  This is not how the Ministry of Home Affairs has ever been operated. It is how a YouTuber releases a series. Sudan Gurung is a political content creator. As home minister, he is an influential influencer constantly, kinetically doing something in the visual medium. Much like Prime Minister Balendra Shah's sunglasses, Gurung's aura, authenticity and swag are a brand asset, instantly recognisable at thumbnail size. Balen's rap career supplies a pre-political archive that authenticates him the same way Gurung's DJ sets and b-boying clips authenticate him. The aesthetic is doing the work a manifesto used to do. The work is authenticity, and the strategy is auramaxxing. The emo fringe predates the ministry. The DJ sets predate Hami Nepal. The b-boying predates the earthquake, the NGO, the September uprising, the interim cabinet, all of it. Whatever Gurung is now, he was already that person before the office existed. This is the real spectacle of the Homie Minister: authenticity. Nepal’s youth have grown up watching heavily-polished, talking-point ministers speak in a language aimed at nobody in particular, But this grainy archival clip of the current Home Minister from 2009 is honest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit NT"></figure>  The effect has transcended the GenZ. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ektapokharel/video/7623242573481561365">A TikTok trend </a>captioned NOT ONLY OUR HOME MINISTER, WE ARE ALSO FROM THAT ERA now has <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@sonykhadka/video/7624106790266948872">millennials posting their own</a> archive photos from the same period, aligning themselves with Gurung's pre-political aesthetic. The aura is doing <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@_thakuri/video/7623397397556645141">cross-generational work</a>. It is a shared legibility, spanning at least 15 years of Nepali youth culture, and the current Home Minister is standing at its centre. The traditional politician’s entire adult life is a performance of identity. Every photograph is lit for the media, every statement is vetted. The persona is the product, and the product has been in development for 30 years. This makes the old guard legible but, suspect in the attention economy. A generation raised on authenticity-as-currency reads the decades of careful performance as evidence of something to hide. The polish is the problem. The nostalgic Sudan Gurung party clips invert this. The polish is absent. The footage cannot be performance aimed at the viewer, because the viewer did not exist in 2009 and neither did the political stakes. The clip is therefore read as real, in a way a press conference can never be. It is just a kid dancing, and he happened to grow up to be the Home Minister. But Sudan Gurung's job is not to go viral. The Ministry of Home Affairs requires the person running it to file a complete asset declaration and to avoid holding financial interests in entities that might come before the state. None of this work is content. A correctly filed asset declaration does not get remixed into a trap beat. A functioning immigration database is not a TikTok. The paperwork that constitutes actual governance is structurally boring in exactly the way the old parties are structurally boring, and for the same reason. It is the slow, procedural, checkable apparatus that the old system was built to produce and that the new system has not yet learned to replace. And it is ironic that it is painstaking follow-the-money paper trail investigative journalists in the legacy media who have uncovered the evidence. You cannot auramaxx your way out of a share registry. You cannot post your way past a conflict-of-interest statute. No amount of fire outfits and wild DJ transitions does anything for you when a journalist pulls the initial shareholder list of a micro insurance company and finds your name at number 49. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@blox.drop/video/7622173520981658900">Auramaxxing was engineered</a> for the mechanics of reaching office. It is the reason Sudan Gurung is Home Minister and Gagan Thapa is not. The question that has not yet been tested, and is now being put to public test, is whether the same weapon works when the terrain changes. The terrain does change when you assume power. TWO CLOCKS Two clocks are running, and they do not sync. The first clock was built for auramaxxing. A clip posted at eight in the morning peaks by noon. A sofa photo is already remixed before the minister has left the building. The feedback loop is fast and legible, and a politician playing this clock gets real-time data on what to post next. The old guard never learned to read it, which is a large part of why they lost the election. The second clock is the one the ministry actually runs on. It measures in quarters, court calendars, and the slow grind of investigation files moving between offices. A share registry takes weeks to pull. A money-laundering case moves at the speed of the prosecutor's office, which is to say, it often does not appear to move at all, until one morning it does. The second clock does not care whether the minister is currently trending. These two clocks have collided. The first one made Sudan Gurung home minister in weeks. The second is pulling out documents that may take months to fully surface and years to adjudicate. The mechanics that won the office are not the same that determine whether the office holds. This is the asymmetry. A politician whose legitimacy is built on <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@s.u.m.e.e/video/7622165783254158613">high velocity videos</a> is structurally exposed to a process that runs slower than the news cycle, because the archive of aesthetic proof was not engineered to answer documentary evidence. It was engineered to displace the demand for documentary evidence in the first place. When that demand returns, as it always does once a politician takes office, the digital archive keeps performing, but the documents keep getting uncovered. And the two tracks do not communicate. The old guard knew this clock because they had no other clock to know. What they lost in charisma they gained in durability: a politician built over 20 years of parliamentary record is harder to dislodge with a single document because they have already survived thousands of documents. The new guard has not been stress-tested against its own paper trail. Sudan Gurung is now being tested. If he survives this, and he might, a new template will have been proven. A politician can enter office on the strength of a dance clip, face a paper trail that would have ended the career of a politician in a previous era of Nepali politics, and continue to govern because the public has decided that an old dance clip is more persuasive than the hard copy document of the company registrar. The clip is still in circulation, the sofa photo still reads as sincerity. The arrest of a former prime minister that the courts reversed has faded from the feed, which runs faster than judicial reversal, and that is the whole point. If Sudan Gurung does not survive it, a different lesson gets written. Auramaxxing turns out to be a weapon that works in one direction only: it gets you the job, and then it leaves you exposed. The movement that installed Gurung in the name of ending elite capture will have to decide whether its own hero is subject to the same audit it demanded of everyone else. If the answer is yes, the movement retains its moral coherence. If the answer is no, the movement becomes the thing it replaced, only faster. Both outcomes are live. If Gurung walks through this, the technique gets copied. If he does not, the technique gets revised. Whether the gap closes on him, or he rewrites the gap, is the thing to watch.

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