As with all spheres of national life that make up our social and cultural fabric, Nepal’s film industry has also been hit hard. Cinemas are closed, shooting has stopped, and there is even less investment in new movies.As with the global film industry, Nepali producers are also disseminating directly through YouTube and other streaming platforms. Film festivals are being held online.The Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival (KIMFF) <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/kimff-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">took place virtually</a> from 10-14 December and had 300 entries this year, out of which 12 films were chosen for the Nepal Panorama and 18 for the international competition.“Because we went virtual, many people outside Nepal were able to see the films, and the number of entries was surprisingly high even given the times we’re in,” KIMFF director Ramyata Limbu told Nepali Times.“If you can’t get people to the hall in terms of logistics and time, doing festivals online in this multimedia era would make it more accessible for people who don’t have the time or inclination to make it to the theatres,” says Limbu. “The more accessible we can make it, the more people will take the time to view independent films.A selection of notable films from 2020: <figure><img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf0284b0ad905ca02eff4jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: NISHON SHAKYA</figcaption></figure>The CrematorNishon Shakya’s, documentary which <a href="https://kimff.org/the-cremator/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">premiered at KIMFF</a>, follows elderly cremator Gyan Bahadur, who is nearing the end of his professional life at the Bhasmeshwar ghat at Pashupati. Gyan Bahadur’s narration of his life is accompanied by powerful visuals of cremations at Pashupati. Caution: Viewer Discretion Advised. Shakya is uncompromising in his visuals of the dead, in a way a macabre reminder of the times we live in.  Gyan Bahadur cremates the dead, a cigarette held tight between his lips, discusses politics, offers medical advice, and tells the story of his life. Having himself lost two of his sons in their childhood, Gyan Bahadur says he makes money off other people’s losses. At times, he is scathing about the living, who like to send off their dead with style but have no words of kindness to the people who help them pass on. Surrounded by mortality, he speaks matter-of-factly about his own death, accepting that he will eventually find his way back to Pashupati and move on from this world the same way he helped countless others. <figure><img width="1440" height="645" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf02b4b0ad905ca02eff5jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Day 33Filmed in the throes of the Covid-19 lockdown, LSM’s (Sailesh RC) <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSFRDsh9kX8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">relevant short film</a> captures a young man’s increasing agitation as he searches for food in his room on the 33rd day of the shutdown. In the barely furnished space, surrounded by empty food containers and an empty wallet, he doesn’t find any. And so, he must settle for anything that he can find within the space that he can move in.The brevity of the film works in its favour — there are no unnecessary drawn-out scenes that attempt to force more meaning or gravitas to the story. There are no dialogues, no angry soliloquies, not one word from the protagonist. The film doesn’t need them. There is just weariness and resignation. <figure><img width="733" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf02d4b0ad905ca02eff6jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Come Over for a Drink, Kanchhi Sikuma Rai’s documentary played at the Pame Film Festival, NHRIFF, and KIMFF. <a href="https://festival.kimff.org/nepal-panorama/come-over-for-a-drink-kanchhi/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Come over for a drink, Kanchhi</a> is a deeply personal narrative of the Rai women of Bhojpur for whom alcohol is woven into the fabric of their daily lives. The women sing and smile and drink in groups throughout the film, even as they hold immense sadness within themselves. Weathered by the loss of children and loved ones to disease and suicide, they make and drink alcohol to deal with grief and trauma. Because alcohol is as much a part of ceremony and celebration as much as melancholy, the women are not apologetic about drinking. “There is a big hole in my heart,” says one of the women, who all suffer from depression. In a country where mental health is stigmatised, the film shines a light on how people deal with depression in rural areas. <figure><img width="1991" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf02f4b0ad905ca02eff7jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Snow Leopards CallingTshiring Lhamu Lama was inspired to work for the conservation of snow leopards when she saw how the endangered Himalayan cats were tortured and poisoned by locals in Dolpo in retaliation for killing their livestock. Sonam Choekyi Lama’s award-winning short documentary is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the story of her sister Tshring’s drive and determination</a> to save and protect a part of her world through snow leopard conservation. Tshiring treks across the freezing, harsh but stunning winter landscape of Phoksundo to capture the movement of Snow Leopards, recognising the importance of the footage for conservation as well as much-needed tourism in the area.The film includes heartbreaking footage of snow leopards being dragged by their tails and kicked by locals into holes in the ground. However, Tshiring’s joy and enthusiasm at having captured snow leopards on film end the visually beautiful documentary on a hopeful, optimistic note. <figure><img width="1600" height="592" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf0324b0ad905ca02eff8jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bare Trees in the MistFilmmaker Rajan Kathet’s Bare Trees in the Mist made its rounds in festivals around the world, including <a href="https://tiff.net/events/bare-trees-in-the-mist" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Toronto in 2019</a>, South Korea, Turkey, Italy, the UK, Finland and India before being screened at home during KIMFF 2020. In this stunning drama, Kaali’s son informs his mother that a neighbour’s husband has returned from abroad bearing gifts for the two of them. Kaali, whose own husband has left home telling his wife that he’s going to Arab (“Which Arab?” her neighbour’s husband asks. Kaali doesn’t know) makes the journey to visit them. Kaali’s tense yet hopeful wait in silence, the choice of aspect ratio, everything adds to the film’s atmosphere, underlying urgency and anxiety of the protagonists. <figure><img width="1440" height="773" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf0354b0ad905ca02eff9jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>BabuIn <a href="http://www.arpafilmfestival.com/short-film-babu-by-eelum-dixit-2020-arpa-iff/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Eelum Mani Dixit’s film</a>, the eponymous Babu finds his village and home torn apart by the 2015 earthquake that takes the life of his mother, and takes his desperate father away to India in search for work. A story of three generations of men in post-earthquake Nepal, the film brims with a young boy’s anger and heartbreak, a father’s helplessness, and a grandfather’s sorrow.Dixit packs a lot of emotion into subtle gestures throughout the film, like when Babu’s father hands him sweets before he leaves for India. Or when Babu gives a marble to the girl he likes-- someone he is probably never going to see again-- as she and her family move away to India. And especially when Babu buys his grandfather, with whom he has a tumultuous relationship, a pen for his journal with the money he had painstakingly saved up working to bring his father back home sooner. The film is not only emblematic of the mass exodus of Nepali men and women to foreign lands, but also a look at how out-migration can be a ‘trend’ that turns working-class Nepalis into hard-bitten cynics unwilling to work their own land, even when it is available and possible.  <figure><img width="734" height="543" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf0384b0ad905ca02effajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Song of CloudsAnkit Poudel’s film is an ethereal, empathetic, abstract story of life and death shifting from this world to the next as the dead communicate with the living they leave behind. Described as a fever dream, there is no plot or narrative structure to the film. There are long stretches of silence punctuated by sudden disjointed communications about regret and longing. A story without direction or an end told through still photographs.Premiering at Sundance earlier this year and making rounds in <a href="https://www.sundance.org/projects/song-of-clouds" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">festival circuits around the world</a>, Poudel’s film has garnered multiple awards, including the Grand Prix at the Split Film festival in Croatia and the Best Fiction award in Nepal Panorama at KIMFF 2020. <figure><img width="1422" height="794" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf03a4b0ad905ca02effbjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Winter Tap In the hills of Sankhwasabha, a young man has undertaken the solo task of building a water tap that will take water right to his home during the dry winter. Working methodically in silence, he cuts bamboo into pipes and tree branches to prop up the bamboo against. He then cuts strips out of some more bamboo and ties the pipe and the branches to make a long and winding canal wrapped around the hills.  As with Day 33, words are unnecessary, the only sound is the wind blowing across the hills as the man lays his bamboo pipe, the rhythmic thwack of his khukuri as he cuts branches to support his canal, and the final, musical sound of the water flowing through the pipes toward his home. Simple, meaningful, and immensely satisfying, this film by Aashish Limbu and Debin Rai won Best student film at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/film-southasia-2019/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Film South Asia 2019</a> and was screened during KIMFF 2020. <figure><img width="500" height="260" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109191120/636bf03d4b0ad905ca02effcjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Big-headed Boy<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.idfa.nl/en/film/17008744-6908-4c0a-bbee-b06b148431a6/the-big-headed-boy-shamans-samurais" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Big-Headed Boy, Shamans &amp; Samurais</a> was screened at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam this November. Made by Pooja Gurung and Bibhusan Basnet, award-winning creative minds behind The Contagious Apparitions of Dambarey Dendrite and Dadyaa, the black-and-white travelogue is an account of the filmmakers’ quest to find an actor for their movie. When they do find an actor, the village Shaman is reluctant to let him go.

Shristi Karki

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2020 vision

As with all spheres of national life that make up our social and cultural fabric, Nepal’s film industry has also been hit hard. Cinemas are closed, shooting has stopped, and there is even less investment in new movies.As with the global film industry, Nepali producers are also disseminating directly through YouTube and other streaming platforms. Film festivals are being held online.The Kathmandu International Mountain Film Festival (KIMFF) <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/business/kimff-2020/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">took place virtually</a> from 10-14 December and had 300 entries this year, out of which 12 films were chosen for the Nepal Panorama and 18 for the international competition.“Because we went virtual, many people outside Nepal were able to see the films, and the number of entries was surprisingly high even given the times we’re in,” KIMFF director Ramyata Limbu told Nepali Times.“If you can’t get people to the hall in terms of logistics and time, doing festivals online in this multimedia era would make it more accessible for people who don’t have the time or inclination to make it to the theatres,” says Limbu. “The more accessible we can make it, the more people will take the time to view independent films.A selection of notable films from 2020: <figure><img width="1920" height="1080" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be93b9c7e80680e0878abjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Photo: NISHON SHAKYA</figcaption></figure>The CrematorNishon Shakya’s, documentary which <a href="https://kimff.org/the-cremator/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">premiered at KIMFF</a>, follows elderly cremator Gyan Bahadur, who is nearing the end of his professional life at the Bhasmeshwar ghat at Pashupati. Gyan Bahadur’s narration of his life is accompanied by powerful visuals of cremations at Pashupati. Caution: Viewer Discretion Advised. Shakya is uncompromising in his visuals of the dead, in a way a macabre reminder of the times we live in.  Gyan Bahadur cremates the dead, a cigarette held tight between his lips, discusses politics, offers medical advice, and tells the story of his life. Having himself lost two of his sons in their childhood, Gyan Bahadur says he makes money off other people’s losses. At times, he is scathing about the living, who like to send off their dead with style but have no words of kindness to the people who help them pass on. Surrounded by mortality, he speaks matter-of-factly about his own death, accepting that he will eventually find his way back to Pashupati and move on from this world the same way he helped countless others. <figure><img width="1440" height="645" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be93f9c7e80680e0878acjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Day 33Filmed in the throes of the Covid-19 lockdown, LSM’s (Sailesh RC) <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSFRDsh9kX8" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">relevant short film</a> captures a young man’s increasing agitation as he searches for food in his room on the 33rd day of the shutdown. In the barely furnished space, surrounded by empty food containers and an empty wallet, he doesn’t find any. And so, he must settle for anything that he can find within the space that he can move in.The brevity of the film works in its favour — there are no unnecessary drawn-out scenes that attempt to force more meaning or gravitas to the story. There are no dialogues, no angry soliloquies, not one word from the protagonist. The film doesn’t need them. There is just weariness and resignation. <figure><img width="733" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9429c7e80680e0878adjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Come Over for a Drink, Kanchhi Sikuma Rai’s documentary played at the Pame Film Festival, NHRIFF, and KIMFF. <a href="https://festival.kimff.org/nepal-panorama/come-over-for-a-drink-kanchhi/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Come over for a drink, Kanchhi</a> is a deeply personal narrative of the Rai women of Bhojpur for whom alcohol is woven into the fabric of their daily lives. The women sing and smile and drink in groups throughout the film, even as they hold immense sadness within themselves. Weathered by the loss of children and loved ones to disease and suicide, they make and drink alcohol to deal with grief and trauma. Because alcohol is as much a part of ceremony and celebration as much as melancholy, the women are not apologetic about drinking. “There is a big hole in my heart,” says one of the women, who all suffer from depression. In a country where mental health is stigmatised, the film shines a light on how people deal with depression in rural areas. <figure><img width="1991" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9449c7e80680e0878aejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Snow Leopards CallingTshiring Lhamu Lama was inspired to work for the conservation of snow leopards when she saw how the endangered Himalayan cats were tortured and poisoned by locals in Dolpo in retaliation for killing their livestock. Sonam Choekyi Lama’s award-winning short documentary is <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the story of her sister Tshring’s drive and determination</a> to save and protect a part of her world through snow leopard conservation. Tshiring treks across the freezing, harsh but stunning winter landscape of Phoksundo to capture the movement of Snow Leopards, recognising the importance of the footage for conservation as well as much-needed tourism in the area.The film includes heartbreaking footage of snow leopards being dragged by their tails and kicked by locals into holes in the ground. However, Tshiring’s joy and enthusiasm at having captured snow leopards on film end the visually beautiful documentary on a hopeful, optimistic note. <figure><img width="1600" height="592" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9479c7e80680e0878afjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Bare Trees in the MistFilmmaker Rajan Kathet’s Bare Trees in the Mist made its rounds in festivals around the world, including <a href="https://tiff.net/events/bare-trees-in-the-mist" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Toronto in 2019</a>, South Korea, Turkey, Italy, the UK, Finland and India before being screened at home during KIMFF 2020. In this stunning drama, Kaali’s son informs his mother that a neighbour’s husband has returned from abroad bearing gifts for the two of them. Kaali, whose own husband has left home telling his wife that he’s going to Arab (“Which Arab?” her neighbour’s husband asks. Kaali doesn’t know) makes the journey to visit them. Kaali’s tense yet hopeful wait in silence, the choice of aspect ratio, everything adds to the film’s atmosphere, underlying urgency and anxiety of the protagonists. <figure><img width="1440" height="773" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9499c7e80680e0878b0jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>BabuIn <a href="http://www.arpafilmfestival.com/short-film-babu-by-eelum-dixit-2020-arpa-iff/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Eelum Mani Dixit’s film</a>, the eponymous Babu finds his village and home torn apart by the 2015 earthquake that takes the life of his mother, and takes his desperate father away to India in search for work. A story of three generations of men in post-earthquake Nepal, the film brims with a young boy’s anger and heartbreak, a father’s helplessness, and a grandfather’s sorrow.Dixit packs a lot of emotion into subtle gestures throughout the film, like when Babu’s father hands him sweets before he leaves for India. Or when Babu gives a marble to the girl he likes-- someone he is probably never going to see again-- as she and her family move away to India. And especially when Babu buys his grandfather, with whom he has a tumultuous relationship, a pen for his journal with the money he had painstakingly saved up working to bring his father back home sooner. The film is not only emblematic of the mass exodus of Nepali men and women to foreign lands, but also a look at how out-migration can be a ‘trend’ that turns working-class Nepalis into hard-bitten cynics unwilling to work their own land, even when it is available and possible.  <figure><img width="734" height="543" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be94c9c7e80680e0878b1jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Song of CloudsAnkit Poudel’s film is an ethereal, empathetic, abstract story of life and death shifting from this world to the next as the dead communicate with the living they leave behind. Described as a fever dream, there is no plot or narrative structure to the film. There are long stretches of silence punctuated by sudden disjointed communications about regret and longing. A story without direction or an end told through still photographs.Premiering at Sundance earlier this year and making rounds in <a href="https://www.sundance.org/projects/song-of-clouds" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">festival circuits around the world</a>, Poudel’s film has garnered multiple awards, including the Grand Prix at the Split Film festival in Croatia and the Best Fiction award in Nepal Panorama at KIMFF 2020. <figure><img width="1422" height="794" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be94f9c7e80680e0878b2jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Winter Tap In the hills of Sankhwasabha, a young man has undertaken the solo task of building a water tap that will take water right to his home during the dry winter. Working methodically in silence, he cuts bamboo into pipes and tree branches to prop up the bamboo against. He then cuts strips out of some more bamboo and ties the pipe and the branches to make a long and winding canal wrapped around the hills.  As with Day 33, words are unnecessary, the only sound is the wind blowing across the hills as the man lays his bamboo pipe, the rhythmic thwack of his khukuri as he cuts branches to support his canal, and the final, musical sound of the water flowing through the pipes toward his home. Simple, meaningful, and immensely satisfying, this film by Aashish Limbu and Debin Rai won Best student film at <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/film-southasia-2019/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Film South Asia 2019</a> and was screened during KIMFF 2020. <figure><img width="500" height="260" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109181152/636be9529c7e80680e0878b3jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Big-headed Boy<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.idfa.nl/en/film/17008744-6908-4c0a-bbee-b06b148431a6/the-big-headed-boy-shamans-samurais" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Big-Headed Boy, Shamans &amp; Samurais</a> was screened at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam this November. Made by Pooja Gurung and Bibhusan Basnet, award-winning creative minds behind The Contagious Apparitions of Dambarey Dendrite and Dadyaa, the black-and-white travelogue is an account of the filmmakers’ quest to find an actor for their movie. When they do find an actor, the village Shaman is reluctant to let him go.

The winter air pollution season started early this year with emissions, Diwali firecrackers and crop residue burning making the air unbreathable across north India. Much of the pollution was transboundary, with prevailing winds carrying the suspended particulates from Pakistan, across India to Nepal and beyond. All this pollution and domestic emissions killed 41,300 in Nepal in 2023, and 85% of all deaths were because of noncommunicable diseases such as heart and lung disease, lung cancer, diabetes, and dementia, according to the State of Global Air (SoGA) 2025 report released Thursday. With the onset of winter, Kathmandu Valley’s own emissions are trapped in a surface inversion layer and as in previous years will have some of the worst air quality in the world.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131016_7c42a4e8b0dce01dfeeaaf89dbb10dbfa036b41163f3ebada88c7ce17dbded49.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251023131016_7c42a4e8b0dce01dfeeaaf89dbb10dbfa036b41163f3ebada88c7ce17dbded49" data-rendition-name="original" width="921" height="850" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  The SoGa report says air pollution has now become the leading risk factor for deaths in Nepal, ahead of tobacco and high blood pressure. Interestingly, while the health impacts due to environmental risk factors such as unsafe water and sanitation have reduced significantly since 2000, the opposite is true for ambient PM2.5 (particles smaller than 2.5 microns). Globally, 7.9 million deaths were attributable to air pollution– about 1 in 8 deaths – in 2023. Of this total, 4.9 million deaths were attributable to PM2.5 exposure, 2.8 million were from household air pollution, and 470,000 were from ozone. Similarly, dementia attributable to air pollution resulted in 626,000 deaths and 40 million healthy years of life lost. And 95% of air pollution attributable deaths in adults over the age of 60 are due to noncommunicable diseases. The burden of noncommunicable diseases in relation to air pollution is rising worldwide and in Nepal. The SoGA report shows that nearly nine of ten global air pollution deaths are from chronic ailments, and half of all respiratory disease deaths are attributable to air pollution.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131020_8577f464b4a73007de5dd018b8ac91dae3a9c732dbb81a44b6aa5a0ced7df3df.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251023131020_8577f464b4a73007de5dd018b8ac91dae3a9c732dbb81a44b6aa5a0ced7df3df" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  In Nepal, air pollution is responsible for three out of four COPD deaths, one out of three heart deaths and one out of five diabetes deaths. More than one third of lower respiratory infection deaths were due to air pollution. “The data presented in the State of Global Air report highlight the significant impacts of poor air quality on the health and well-being of billions of people around the world, especially those living in Asia and Africa,” says Pallavi Pant of the Boston-based Health Effects Institute (HEI) that released the report in collaboration with the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation and the NCD Alliance. She adds: “Growing momentum on air quality management across those hard-hit locations, including expansion of air quality monitoring, adoption of air quality regulations, and sector-specific interventions are yielding improvements for those most impacted.” Low- and middle-income countries stand to gain most by reducing air pollution, with particularly strong impacts on children, older populations, and people with pre-existing health conditions. Indeed, of the 41,300 air pollution deaths in 2023 in Nepal, 31,600 were in adults over the age of 60 years and 3,500 in children below five years. Death rate for air pollution in Nepal, which is 178 per 100,000, is more than 10 times higher than high-income countries, which is at 17 per 100,000.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251023131020_604e852aed4ffde0dc7d1df72fcd3e73d904136dfb1bb2407e53b7445f3ef72c.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251023131020_604e852aed4ffde0dc7d1df72fcd3e73d904136dfb1bb2407e53b7445f3ef72c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="423" loading="lazy" alt="Air pollution killing season starts early NT"> </figure>  “Win-win solutions for air pollution and NCDs exist, with added benefits for climate, physical activity, nutrition, and many other global development priorities,” says Alison Cox, Policy and Advocacy Director at the Geneva-based NCD Alliance. “These policies are effective and deliver a strong return on investment - for the sake of our people and the planet we need to implement them faster.” Fine particle pollution (ambient PM2.5) is the largest driver of air pollution’s burden of disease worldwide as kit attributed to 4.9 million deaths and 124 million healthy years of life lost in 2023. Vehicles, power plants, factories, and homes, as well as agricultural and industrial activities, waste burning and wildfires are some of the biggest sources of pollutants. South Asia is among the regions of the world with the highest exposures to ambient PM2.5 , while more than 36% of people around the world live in areas where PM2.5 levels do not meet even the least stringent interim target. As per the report, 78% of Nepal’s 30 million population lives in areas where annual PM2.5 exposure exceeds the least stringent WHO Air Quality Interim Target of 35 µg/m3. Meanwhile, exposure to household air pollution due to the use of solid fuels for cooking remains an important driver for the disease burden in the country. “Ongoing efforts to meet global development goals are not achievable without directly addressing air pollution,” says Maria Neira, Commissioner of Our Common Air. “Countries and cities must focus their efforts toward reducing air pollution emissions, including household air pollution, which has particularly severe impacts on young children and older people across Asia and Africa.”

Air pollution killing season starts early

This year, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/quo-vadis-un-80-9vthn7mg">United Nations is marking its 80th anniversary</a> and it is being celebrated with special events across the world to commemorate its establishment on 24 October 1945. It has also been 75 years since the first UN adviser, the Swiss geologist Toni Hagen, was sent to Nepal to explore development opportunities. In 1950, there were no roads and Hagen walked on foot across the length and breadth of Nepal’s mountains, valleys and plains. This year also marks the 60th anniversary of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) in Nepal, and much of Hagen’s work laid the basis for the UN’s involvement in education, health, and connectivity in Nepal’s future development. Despite frequent changes in government and political system, Nepal has made remarkable progress. The poverty rate has gone down by half in the past 30 years to 20.27% of the population. Much of it has to do with remittances from Nepalis working overseas, but it is also a result of the Nepal government’s investment in education, health care and social welfare.&nbsp; There have been special initiatives like the Prime Minister’s Employment Program that have provided jobs to nearly 800,000 people in the country’s 743 municipalities — especially in those areas with lower Human Development Index (HDI) like the far-west and the Tarai.&nbsp; This year’s HDI report by UNDP shows that Nepal’s score had risen to 0.622, whereas it was only 0.404 in 1990. In the past 33 years, the average lifespan of Nepalis has risen by 15.6 years to 70.4 years, whereas it was only 54.8 in 1990. However, the country’s HDI ranking is still 145 among the world’s 193 countries. “Yes, there has been significant improvement in living standards in the past 60 years, road connectivity has improved, the maternal mortality rate has gone down dramatically, almost everyone has phones, there are schools,” says Saru Joshi of the thinktank Nepal Policy Institute. But, she adds: “It is still difficult to get citizenship papers, especially in the name of the mother, and this has excluded many women from banking services, inheritance. After all our progress in physical infrastructure, Nepal now needs to prioritise inclusive social development.”&nbsp; Some of this is also happening. Eighteen years ago, Nabaraj Subedi, 49, of a village in Baglung decided not to join his peers &nbsp;fleeing the Maoist conflict to find work overseas. He invested Rs500,000 to buy a diesel generator and start a small furniture business.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251024071044_eeef308e19a73de507a425b2c6afc47269884549cf4c8fac07ca9a4898c8e031" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nawaraj Subedi"> <figcaption>Nawaraj Subedi, 49, proprietor of Tarakhola Furniture Factory. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, with the installation of the 380 kilowatt small hydroelectric plant, he does not need to depend on his unreliable generator to power his equipment anymore. There is now a road connecting his village, and Subedi has generated local jobs, opened a sales branch in the city, and gets orders from as far away as Pokhara and Chitwan. “My costs have gone down drastically because of the electricity, and sales have gone up because of the road connecting my furniture to markets. My business has expanded,” Subedi says. Back in 1960 in a report he prepared for the Nepal government on behalf of the United Nations, Toni Hagen had emphasised just this: investing in electricity generation and connectivity to uplift the remote rural areas of Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251024081024_188ab121dc3cf2816ee71a72cb3687493eda37ab99ecc04802d647c8c9b4cd2d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Tarakhola Furniture Factory"> <figcaption>Subedi's staff at the Tarakhola Furniture Factory.</figcaption> </figure>  Subedi’s furniture factory gets its electricity from the nearby Tarakhola Hydropower, a company set up eight years ago with financial and technical support from UNDP’s Renewable Energy for Rural Livelihood (RERL) project. &nbsp; “The project completely transformed living standards in this village,” says municipality chair Dhan Bahadur BK. “It has helped create jobs locally, there is now money to invest in education and healthcare. Households can pay their electricity fees electronically through smart billing.”&nbsp; After working with the government on rural electrification, UNDP is focussed on using that power for local employment creation. A women’s group, for example, has bought an electric-powered potato processing machine that can produce chips.&nbsp; “We are 12 of us mothers, daughters, daughters-in-law who process, package and market the potato that we grow ourselves, and it has raised our income,” says Sukmaya Roka, 57, who chairs the group.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251024071044_70b22418699178bcdd0abb0aa308796980ecd29634bcda6ff113a7624e709751" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Sukamaya Roka"> <figcaption>Sukamaya Roka, 57, chair of Sipa Aalu Chips Utpadan Samuha from Tarakhola Rural Municipality, Baglung. </figcaption> </figure>  Today, 6.1 million households in Nepal (92.2% of total) have electricity in their homes, up from 17.9% 30 years ago. Access to electricity has not just brought lights to homes, but improved everything from productivity, quality of education, healthcare and phone connectivity.&nbsp; “To see what electricity and roads can do, just look at our municipality,” says chair Dhan Bahadur BK, “citizens have become more self-reliant, more aware of the outside world.”&nbsp; NETTLES INTO CASH&nbsp; Just a little bit of training, resource backup and local empowerment can uplift the living standards of Nepalis. The progress made in harvesting abundantly-available allo (nettles) and turning it into household products is an example. When a landslide swept away his home and farm in a flood 40 years ago, Buddhi Purja of Parbat became destitute. But he took part in a government training program supported by UNDP and Australia to harvest the wild nettles that grew on mountain slopes and turn the fabric into bags.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251024071048_56c440c478dffbc13911369b6f4133baf658cc3667773cdb44b7c40e006463ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rhitu Saugat Handicraft"> <figcaption>A worker at Rhitu Saugat Handicraft making a bag out of nettles.</figcaption> </figure>  “After the landslide, we had to go hungry if we did not get a day job,” Purja recalls, “but after this training we have found that we can turn nettles into cash.” His allo bags are now hanging in tourist shops in Pokhara Lakeside and Thamel.&nbsp; The idea that nettles can be processed into useful fabric has not spread across the country, and new ecologically conscious consumers in Europe and elsewhere now import Made in Nepal nettle products.&nbsp; Purja started out with an investment of Rs500,000, and had a Rs20 million business that employed 25 workers. The Covid crisis in 2020 affected the sales, but Purja has recovered from it, sent his daughter off to study abroad, and is thinking of diversifying his product range.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251024071044_ab6d15abcbb9a643e12a384f4bc488b7e210a8c95303fbe1b2f77716d26eede9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Buddi Purja"> <figcaption>Buddi Purja, proprietor of Rhitu Saugat Handicraft in Pokhara.</figcaption> </figure>  While UNDP’s project has made successful businessmen out of people like Purja, nationwide it has created 187,000 jobs in rural medium-scale industries. Much of what has worked in Nepal has been at the community level with decentralised projects like these that use the entrepreneurship of people like Buddhi Purja, Navaraj Subedi, and Sukmaya Roka. It is tantalising to imagine how much more progress Nepal would have made if their work could be replicated nationside and upscaled to the state-level.

Think locally, invest locally

Public anxiety about immigration has become a powerful political currency across many liberal democracies. In Australia, as elsewhere, legitimate concerns about housing and economic fairness can be, and increasingly are exploited by anti-democratic actors who frame migration not as a policy issue but as a cultural threat.&nbsp;
When these narratives move from online spaces to public rallies, they do more than divide opinion; they erode the social trust and pluralism on which democracy depends. Understanding how populist and far-right movements weaponise migration debates is crucial to recognising the early challenging signs of liberal democracy.
Immigration has become one of the most politically charged issues in Australia, not only because of the numbers but because of its entanglement with cost-of-living pressures, housing shortages, and rent spikes.&nbsp;
The latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia (HILDA) <a href="https://www.unimelb.edu.au/newsroom/news/2025/september/how-we-live-latest-hilda-data-gives-insight-into-a-changing-australia">data</a> shows rising household financial stress as Australian households spending more on rent and income tax. These changes likely reflect a mix of economic and policy factors but create a lot of room for people to hold inaccurate and occasionally contradictory attitudes on these issues.&nbsp;
While net overseas migration has started to decline from its post-pandemic peak, public concern remains high, amplified by populist rhetoric. Some surveys have <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/04/australians-want-less-migration-but-oppose-cutting-international-student-numbers-study-finds">revealed</a> a nuanced picture: most Australians want lower migration overall but oppose cutting international student numbers, and support targeted skilled migration to address workforce gaps.&nbsp;
As former Home Affairs Minister Clare O’Neil <a href="https://minister.homeaffairs.gov.au/ClareONeil/Pages/how-australia-broke-its-migration-system.aspx">argued</a> in 2023, Australia’s migration system is “broken and un-strategic”, not delivering for business, for migrants, or for the larger population. This is a situation that frustrates both sides of the debate and makes immigration an easy political flashpoint.
The recent <a href="https://marchforaustralia.org/">March for Australia</a> rallies turned these anxieties into street-level mobilisation. Tens of thousands <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czjmre371l1o">protested</a> at what they called ‘mass immigration’, while far-right groups seized the opportunity to inject xenophobic slogans and calls for ‘remigration’ into the public space. These demonstrations were not only about visa caps or housing and jobs; they became performances of who is entitled to belong.&nbsp;
When immigration is framed not as a policy question but as a cultural test of Australianness, it risks shrinking the demos, the very community that democracy is meant to represent.
What made the March for Australia so striking was not only its size but its composition. Recent investigative reporting <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/politics/victoria/don-t-mention-hitler-and-you-re-sweet-the-great-march-for-australia-deception-20250909-p5mtlc.html">revealed</a> that neo-Nazi groups were not merely present at the March for Australia rallies but played a role in covertly organising them. They amplified messaging online, coordinated attendance, and sought to mask their involvement to broaden appeal.&nbsp;
This highlights that democratic erosion is rarely spontaneous; it requires actors who deliberately exploit social grievances, mistrust, and polarisation to mobilise anger for their anti-democratic ends. The banners reading ‘<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">Stop Immigration</a>’ revealed that public hostility towards migrants, <a href="https://www.afr.com/politics/federal/pressure-mounts-for-price-to-apologise-to-indian-australians-20250908-p5mt7x">particularly</a> from the Indo-Pacific, is growing.
For many migrants, these displays are more than conceptual debates about white national identity. They are experienced emotionally. Writing shortly after the rallies, Melbourne-based writer Jafrin Kabir <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">reflected</a> that she had never felt so foreign on Australian soil. She pays taxes and inflated rents, contributes skills in the national interest, cheers for the Tillies and calls Melbourne “home”, yet suddenly felt unsafe because of the origin and colour of her skin.&nbsp;
Similarly, Chinese national interviewed by media outlet <a href="https://www.scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/article/3325127/i-feel-insecure-chinese-nationals-australia-blindsided-anti-immigration-marches">reported</a> cancelling weekend plans and feeling “blindsided” by the scale of the marches.
Scapegoating migrants especially in times of economic stress is an age-old phenomenon and is not just limited to Australia. Across the democratic world, from the United States to the UK and parts of Europe, hostility toward migrants and minorities has become a route for anti-democratic forces. Populist actors often <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/mar/27/peter-dutton-keeps-blaming-migration-for-the-housing-crisis-but-can-it-really-be-that-simple">use</a> cultural anxiety and demographic change to justify illiberal and undemocratic measures, claiming to restore order while actually dismantling checks and balances.
By analysing democratic decay, scholars like Lydia Khalil at the Lowy Institute, <a href="https://interactives.lowyinstitute.org/features/democratic-erosion/">argue</a> that democracies rarely break down at once. Instead, they incrementally weaken through vicious cycles: declining trust in institutions, entrenched division based on hate, the normalisation of political violence, and the bit by bit removal of norms and guardrails.&nbsp;
Though some of the conditions are present in Australia to be exploited by anti-democratic actors, for example, almost two-thirds of Australians believe their leaders intentionally mislead them, according to the <a href="https://www.edelman.com/au/trust/2025/trust-barometer">2025 Edelman Trust Barometer</a>, &nbsp;but their presence is not determinative.
Australia’s democratic guardrails remain strong: independent courts, transparent elections run by the AEC, and a free press continue to hold power to account. Federalism and active civil society further diffuse power and create space for contestation.&nbsp;
But if public trust continues to erode and social divisions deepen, these safeguards will come under strain. Early recognition and action are crucial to ensure that today’s street-level hostilities do not translate into institutional regression.
Preventing such outcome requires a socially embedded understanding of migration, an understanding that goes beyond simplistic optimistic and pessimistic views. Policy makers should go beyond Push-Pull models, functionalist and neoclassical and historical-structural theories.&nbsp;
Consulting the work done by <a href="https://www.guilford.com/books/The-Age-of-Migration/Haas-Castles-Miller/9781462542895#:~:text=International%20Population%20Movements%20in%20the%20Modern%20World,-Hein%20de%20Haas">Hein de Haas</a> et-el, migration should be conceptualised as an intrinsic part of broader processes of development, social transformation and globalisation rather than a 'problem to be solved'. We need more nuanced views that have an eye for the complexity of migration processes and the diversity of its causes and impacts.
Sohail Akhtar is a Melbourne- based researcher focusing on governance, public policy, and migration. He contributes to Lowy Institute Sydney.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/is-street-level-hostility-a-challenge-to-liberal-democracy-reflections-from-australia.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Is street-level hostility a challenge to liberal democracy?

Intricately painted Buddha, Aryatara, Krishna, and Parvati gaze serenely at visitors at the Kathmandu Art Gallery under muted amber lights. Moving from one artful devotion to the next, a quiet, profound connection to the divine envelopes the visitor. This transcends art to the realm of the spiritual. &nbsp; The gallery’s latest exhibition, Masters of Devotion, features art by 22 artists all from Bhaktapur. They also include Ajay Karmacharya, Purna Prasad Hyoju, Nhuche Kaji Bajracharya, Rajani Sinkhwal, Shashi Dhar Sainju, Surya Bahadur Chitrakar and Sundar Sinkhwal from the Khowpa Paubha Chowmi Pucha. Paubha are religious and devotional art depicting deities and mandala that date back to the 7th century, when Newa artists began to paint images of the gods on cloth. For the artists who practice this craft, the art form is as meditative as it is meticulous.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251025041028_de34b51d48bcee50ae391301e2ff1890be7ecba3df7e563537c273818825aad5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art review "> </figure>  The exhibition at the newly-opened space Kathmandu Art Gallery coincides with the festival season and is a collection of extravagant works done in mineral and stone colour, sakura and gouache. The vintage art space is located at Babar Mahal Revisited and is a fitting accompaniment to the paubha featured in the exhibit.&nbsp; Sundar Sinkhwal’s vividly painted Harihara is among the more eye-catching works. “Half of the painting is Shiva and half is Vishnu, hence the name Harihar,”explains Sinkhwal. “Together with their consorts Parvati and Laxmi, I have painted Uma-Maheswor and Laxmi-Narayan.” Nandi and Garuda, the vehicles of the two gods, complete the vibrant painting.&nbsp; In contrast, for his piece titled Lakshmi, Sinkhwal shrouds his canvas in dark colours to paint Kuber, the deity revered as the custodian to the wealth in the Hindu pantheon, accompanied by two khyak apparitions —one black, the other white— both mythical creatures in Newari folklore.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251025041032_1bde6de442b742c300bb8c9278ea8886445aa8df47076fd9aa362ce1f8bef903" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  “The black khyak is considered inauspicious, while white ones are a symbol of good luck,” explains Sinkhwal. Purna Prasad Hyoju has used mineral paint on canvas for a powerful depiction of Ardhanareswar, the composite form of Shiva and his consort Parvati.&nbsp; “I drew inspiration from the Newari Swasthani story about the separation of Shiva and Satidevi,” says Hyoju. Legend has it that Shiva, unwilling to part from his consort, reincarnated as a unified dual gender form of himself and Parvati. Hyoju has painted goddess Parvati in bright yellow, in homage to one of her other manifestations, Gauri, which means radiant.&nbsp; Meanwhile, Ratna Gopal Sinkhwal’s Kurkula Devi, done in stone pigment, is radiant on the cotton canvas. “Kurkula Devi is a tantric goddess whose traces are found in the Sadhana Mala,” says Sinkhwal. “The stone pigment is what makes the goddess look like she is gleaming.” One of Sinkhwal’s other works draws from stories in the Mahabharat to depict Bhimsen, Draupadi, Dushasan and Akash Bhairav in confrontation, expressions fierce.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251025041028_72eea52c8504eccb8b3be7cd4cef616dfb8efd821e8b1e1ae8f440f10782be11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="art exhibition"> </figure>  The opening of the exhibition last week also featured a music session, during which some of the artists sang traditional songs. Their voices joined the rhythm of the madal and melody of the harmonium, adding warmth to the crisp autumn evening.&nbsp; Each painstakingly detailed paubha reflects the artists’ devotion to divinity and mythology, as well as their heritage. Masters of Devotion showcases the work of veritable masters of their craft, and is a must-visit for art connoisseurs and devotees alike. Says the gallery’s Sangeeta Rana Thapa: “It is our honour to celebrate the artists’ work—to stand among pieces that embody both devotion and mastery, and to witness a tradition that continues to inspire us.” Masters of Devotion Kathmandu Art Gallery Baber Mahal Revisited Until 22 November

the-cremator-33days

2020 vision

2020 vision

Air pollution killing season starts early

Think locally, invest locally

Is street-level hostility a challenge to liberal democracy?

Artful devotion