Shakti (शक्ति) in Hinduism is the all-powerful feminine goddess without whom the masculine form is just a shadow. The mother goddess is also प्रकृति (nature), signifying the intimate link of all life forms with the female creator being. &nbsp;
This week, women across Nepal have been celebrating the runup to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/women-celebrate-tij">nationwide carnival of Tij,</a> and the main day this year falls on 6 September.&nbsp;
Tij has traditionally been a symbol of entrenched patriarchy in Nepali society and a festival to put women in their place. They are required to fast all day to ensure longevity of their husbands, reinforcing the idea that a woman’s worth is tied to a man.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/parodying-patriarchy-at-tij">Parodying patriarchy at Tij</a>, Sewa Bhattarai
However, Nepali womanhood has coopted Tij and turned it into a festival of emancipation, independence and even defiance. Leading up to the festival, artists and singers have released music videos on social media platforms with scathing satire, commentary, and protest. Tij has become the stage on which to highlight continued discrimination, abuse, even rapes and murders of women which have gone largely unpunished.&nbsp;
The way Nepalis celebrate our myriad post-monsoon festivals has changed with increased disposable income, and in the process become more commercialised and consumerist. But just to show who is in charge, the Kathmandu District Administration on Tuesday issued a notice saying any ‘unnecessarily extravagant celebration’ of Tij would result in legal action.Why does Kathmandu’s moral police feel it is necessary to control merry-making on the one day that Nepali women have reclaimed for themselves? Don’t they have bigger fish to fry? Like arresting convicted rapists? &nbsp;
The 2015 Constitution has ensured better representation of hitherto excluded groups like women across all sectors. In theory. &nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16252">Re-inventing Tij</a>, Mallika Aryal
Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/songs-of-rebellion,3249">Songs of rebellion</a>, Smriti Basnet
Even though the amendment to Nepal’s Civil Service Act has reserved 33% of civil service seats for women, they make up just 7.41% of the total jobs. Women from underserved communities suffer double discrimination.&nbsp;
Women and minorities in politics tend to be token nominations just to fulfil quota requirements. Women were elected to every local council as either a mayor or deputy mayor in 2017, but electoral alliances between political parties in the 2022 elections at all three levels of government gave politicians loopholes to bypass this requirement.
Indeed, while the number of female mayors and chairpersons rose slightly from 18 in 2017 to 25 in 2022, the number of deputy chiefs in 761 local governments fell steeply from 718 women to 564 at the same time.&nbsp;
Similarly, the 2015 Constitution mandated that 33% of MPs had to be women. Most female parliamentarians were never given a ticket for direct elections by their parties, they had to get into Parliament via the Proportional Representation (PR) system and are therefore not taken seriously by their male peers.&nbsp;
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/more-things-change-more-they-remain-the-same">current coalition government of the NC and UML</a> came to power two months ago on the purported agenda of scrapping the PR system with a constitutional amendment, arguing it has brought political instability.&nbsp;
Forget for a moment that it is serial septuagenarian prime ministers of the three main parties who are more responsible for decades of instability, but women and other excluded communities are in real danger of losing guarantees of political representation.&nbsp;
The 2021 census shows the female population over the age of 10 who are economically active has increased from 29.2% to 60.4%. Women manage nearly 30% of all small and medium businesses.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-enterprising-women-in-politics">Nepal’s enterprising women in politics</a>, Samjhana BK
Female land and property ownership has increased since women were guaranteed inheritance rights. But while businesses registered by women are on the rise, this is largely so that male family members can use up subsidies for female-owned enterprises.&nbsp;
However progressive the laws, that is only the first step. True equality cannot be achieved until women are socio-culturally empowered to make their own decisions: whether or not to get married, when and to whom, to join the workforce after marriage or be a homemaker, have children (and how many) or not have them, get divorced, or remarry.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/50-outstanding-women-of-nepal">50 outstanding women of Nepal</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar
There is no right or wrong in all this, it is a woman’s choice. Family, society and community have no right to critique their decision. Patriarchy has contributed to gender inequality, but internalised misogyny lurks deep within society.
This is reflected in how Nepali families (including some matriarchs) continue to treat their daughters-in-law as slaves. Socialisation is so entrenched that in many cases, it is female family members who banish daughters to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518">chhau huts</a> during their periods because of fears of divine retribution.
Recently, it was women who defended a self-proclaimed ‘godwoman’ who sermonised that women must endure abuse and exploitation at the hands of the husband and his family because divorce is “unnatural”. &nbsp;
Nepali society has a lot to learn and unlearn so that the next generation can finally break free of the shackles of discrimination, exploitation, abuse, and inequality.
Shristi Karki

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Quality of equality for women

Despite where the Gender Inequality Index may rank Nepal, this country is taking rapid strides to achieve equality among men, women, and others.No sooner had we marked Guy Jatra, a day dedicated to they/them/theirs, than Nepalis are busy preparing to go overbored to mark Tij, a festival dedicated to those of the female persuasion no matter which personal or collective pronoun they use to identify themselves, and when.Women from all walks of life will walk the talk on Tuesday by undertaking 24-hour relay hunger strikes at major city intersections to wish their present or future hubbies health, wealth and tickets to stand in the forthcoming federal and provincial elections.This just goes to prove that femaledom in this country is now 100% emancipated, and we are far ahead of even Scandinavian countries. Whereas Finland is about to ditch a prime minister just because she was caught inflagrante dancing  at a party, Nepali women are twerking left right and centre on TikTok to demonstrate that, as far as they are concerned, there are no if’s and butt’s when it comes to the fair sex.Tij is a celebration of women’s empowerment. Female members of the species are essentially saying that they command so much control over their male counterparts that they have their respective husbands by their gonads, and can make or break their destiny at the drop of a hat.Let say, for sake of argument, that a wife refuses to undertake a Tij fast for the material wellbeing and longevity of her spouse. The guy is done for. He is screwed. By not fasting, Mrs Wife has put such a voodoo spell that Mr Hubby Boy will likely lose his entire life saving in a Ponzo scheme, and he is sure to catch dengue on the weekend. In no other country, not even Finland, do women hold so much power over their menfolk as they do here in Nepal.Whereas Guy Jatra was a festival when some of us macho men got temporary license to make complete he-asses of ourselves by behaving like we always do on any other day of the year, Tij is a festival where women can get their annual chance to amass even more power just by bingeing and then not eating for a day.So, this Tij women will go on hunger strike as they have for millennia so that their husbands will be forever indebted to them. And those women who, for whatever technical reason, do not wish their current spouses to live to be 100, can easily stop at the Himalaya Bhojanalaya (free basement parking available) and gorge themselves on buff momos.What all this means is that being total dorks anyway, men will be left further and further behind in terms of their status in society. But what is going to happen to broad-minded men who are holding up half the sky? (Ok, ok one-third.) Us he-asses will be left high and dry and out in the wilderness.Should we guys be getting worried? You bet. And what should we gentlemen be doing about it? Here, Mao Zedong’s dictum comes handy (and I paraphrase): “Offensiveness is the best form of defence.” Which means us comrades have to behave even more like jerks than we already do. We will protect the bastions of our manhood from female encroachment till the last hombre is left standing.So, let this be a warning: we are not going to sit idly by while women outscore us in Lok Sewa Exams, and take away our jobs. This Tij, we will launch a counter-offensive by being even better househusbands than our housewives.

Ass s

Twerking at Tij

<figure><img width="931" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba68f9c7e80680e07372djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: VSO</figcaption></figure>Despite <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-valley-back-to-lockdown/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">restrictions on gatherings</a>,  women across Nepal mark Tij this week, the festival of women, on Friday. Increasingly, Tij songs are less about lamenting gender justice and more about striving for equality.One manifestation of entrenched patriarchy in Nepal is menstrual taboo, an extreme form of which is chhaupadi, the practice in parts of Nepal of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/women-speaking-out-against-chaupadi,3518" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">monthly banishment</a> of women to an outhouse during their periods.In a country where period stigma is still prevalent young women, adolescent girls are facing extra barriers under lockdown to maintain their period in a safe and dignified way.During the pandemic girls are mostly confined to the household, and during their periods are forbidden to touch communal objects in the household. Added to this, the economic crisis hitting these communities is leaving young women and girls unable to afford period products.Under a unique <a href="https://www.vsointernational.org/our-work/inclusive-education/system-strengthening/sisters-for-sisters" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.vsointernational.org/our-work/inclusive-education/system-strengthening/sisters-for-sisters&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1597908281944000&amp;usg=AFQjCNE0R0d69AjenpkQ1LnCoIEncENunQ">Sisters for Sisters' Education</a> started by the UK-based VSO (Volunteer Service Overseas), big girls in rural Nepal who were already mentoring younger ones have stepped in during the lockdown to guide them about using and accessing period products.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/?p=21465&amp;preview=true" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s superwomen beat superstition</a>, Aruna Upreti <figure><img width="932" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6919c7e80680e07372ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Muni Kumari Gupta is a ‘Big Sister’ who has been mentoring 11 little sisters in her community in a village in Parsa, the district in Nepal hardest hit by the Covid-19 pandemic. “These days we are all living in a fear of the coronavirus,” Muni Kumari says, “ever since the first case was found in our village, there has been more fear.”</figcaption></figure>Muni Kumari Gupta is a ‘Big Sister’ who has been mentoring 11 little sisters in her community in a village in Parsa, the district in Nepal hardest hit by the Covid-19 pandemic.“These days we are all living in a fear of the coronavirus,” Muni Kumari says, “ever since the first case was found in our village, there has been more fear.”Because the lockdown has been re-imposed in Parsa, Muni Kumari keeps in touch with her little ‘sisters’ through the mobile phone telling them to wear masks, maintain distance and keep elderly relatives safe.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/communicating-to-remove-menstrual-taboo/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Communicating to remote menstrual taboo</a>, Sewa BhattaraiWhen the lockdown eased for a few weeks in July, she visited the homes of her ‘sisters’ to coach them in school lessons. Most schools in Parsa had been converted into quarantine centres for returnees from abroad, and had been closed.Muni Kumari herself takes classes through the radio and joins her ‘sisters’ to learn English through the remote radio classes.“It has been very difficult to communicate properly with girls and their families. I was allowed to visit a few families near my home so that I could teach them how to wash hands and use a face mask properly,” says Muni Kumari, who had been trained in making reusable sanitary pads, and she shares this skill with family members and girls in the community.“During the lockdown, we were unable to buy sanitary pads at the shops. Therefore, the skills helped us to make our pads at home,” she adds.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/pad-power-nepal,4147">Pad Power</a>, Ziyu LinAnjali Patel is now in Grade 10, and is thankful that she has her ‘Big Sister’, Muni Kumari Gupta to help her navigate the dangers of the pandemic, the shortages of everything during the lockdown, and setbacks to education because of the closure of schools.“My Big Sister is the closest person I can share my problems with,” says Anjali, “she lives nearby and is always available to guide us and the other small sisters. She helps me with my studies, and tells me how to stay safe during the pandemic.”When Anjali was 10, her parents made her do household chores so she missed school a lot. Her parents also did not find school to be that important for a girl child. It was Muni Kumari who convinced her parents that Anjali should get an education.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/removing-menstrual-shame,4148" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Removing menstrual shame</a>, Clara Hare-Grogg <img width="933" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6949c7e80680e07372fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><img width="931" height="619" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6969c7e80680e073730jpeg.jpg" alt="">Anjali Patel is at home listening to a remote classroom on the radio, and helping her nephews with school lessons.After the lockdown started in March, Anjali found it difficult because she could not meet her mentor face-to-face. But Muni Kumari called her on the phone and gave her confidence, instructing her how to protect herself and the family against the virus.The Sister for Sisters program is supported by UK Aid through VSO and has distributed sanitary hygiene packs to nearly 1,200 families in Surkhet, Lamjung, Dhading and Parsa districts of Nepal. The kits include soap, towel, toothbrush, reusable sanitary pad, underwear, nail cutter, hygiene kit bag and liquid chlorine. The project is implemented by Global Action Nepal and Aasaman Nepal. Nitu Gupta is also a ‘Big Sister’ for 13 smaller girls in an adjoining village in Parsa district. As elsewhere in Nepal, the young girls cannot go to school, their families are in a precarious economic situation, and there is the need to protect themselves from the spread of the coronavirus.<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/that-time-of-the-month/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">That time of the month</a>, EditorialNitu was already helping to educate her 13 ‘sisters’ before the lockdown, and she has been carrying on that work to make up for the closure of schools.  “During the lockdown, our economic situation became much more difficult, and the girls were mentally affected because there have been suicides in the community,” Nitu says.Sisters for Sisters helped girls like Nitu with remote training through radio to stay safe during the pandemic. She kept in touch with the girls under her care, teaching them to wash hands frequently. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/menstruation-is-not-private-business-it-is-everyones-business/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">“Menstruation is not a private business, it’s everyone’s business”</a>, Reeti KC <figure><img width="932" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba6999c7e80680e073731jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Nitu Gupta is another mentor in the Sister for Sisters project, raising awareness about Covid-19 and supporting the education of girls who are out of school in Bahubari of Parsa district. Here she is handing over a hygiene kit to the mother of one of her little 'sisters'.</figcaption></figure>She adds, “The most challenging has been the lack of access to reading materials and menstrual products during the lockdown. But we have been able to provide the families with hygiene kits. This has helped the girls stay clean and comfortable.” Joya Parvin,18, is also a ‘Big Sister’ with 13 younger girls under her charge, but during the lockdown she has only been able to keep in touch with four of them who live nearby. She says the biggest challenge for the girls in her group is accessing menstrual products, soap and sanitser and masks.When she first became a ‘Big Sister’ her main role was to convince parents from her Muslim community to send their daughters to school. But now that schools are closed, he mentoring is different – to make sure the girls keep up with their studies through radio, and have the necessary support to maintain hygience and stay safe.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/GUEST-COLUMN/blood-sisters-menstruation,839" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Blood sisters</a>, Sangita Thebe-Limbu <figure><img width="930" height="620" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110914118/636ba69b9c7e80680e073732jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption>Joya Pravin showing the little 'sisters' under the charge how to make their own sanitary napkins.</figcaption></figure>One of the little ‘sisters’ in the group that Joya mentors is Rami Khatun, and she says she was seized with panic when Parsa became a coronavirus hotspot in July. “But she gave us tips on how to stay safe, and when the shops ran out of sanitary pads, Joya taught us how to make our own,” says Rami.Rami spends her lockdown days at home helping with chores, and taking care of her nephews. Even though the schools are closed, Joya used to visit when the lockdown was eased. But now that are restrictions of movement, she calls frequently and Rami listens to the radio program to improve her English.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/tipping-point-on-menstrual-banishment-in-nepal/">Tipping point on menstrual banishment in Nepal</a>, Marty Logan

Ensuring menstrual hygiene during Nepal lockdown

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56639c7e80680e054787jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/>Hindu women celebrate Tij all over Nepal, wearing red saris, jingling red bangles and colorful ornaments. They sway to the beat of Tij songs, as they fast all day.Traditionally, women of Nepal celebrated Tij for the long life of their husband or to find a good husband. Shiva temples all over the country are flooded with devotees today as women wait in line for hours to pray and get blessings from lord Shiva.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56679c7e80680e054788jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Women gather at Sanga, Bhaktapur, on 2 Sep 2019 to celebrate Tij. Photos: Monika Deupala</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a566a9c7e80680e054789jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>Women dress up in colorful ornaments for the day.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a566e9c7e80680e05478ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>A woman's plate full of offerings for the worship.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56729c7e80680e05478bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Most women dress up in red for the day, which is considered an auspicious colour.</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56769c7e80680e05478cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a567a9c7e80680e05478djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>A woman puts on auspicious red tika on her forehead for Tij.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a567e9c7e80680e05478ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>A woman prays at Doleshwar temple, Bhaktapur.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56829c7e80680e05478fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>A woman on the premises of Doleshwar temple, Bhaktapur.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a56869c7e80680e054790jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>A woman whispers into the ears of Nandi, Lord Shiva's bull, in the hope that he will get her wishes to the god faster.</figcaption></figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141112/636a568b9c7e80680e054791jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56909c7e80680e054792jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141116/636a56939c7e80680e054793jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="5616" height="3744"><figcaption>Women dance to entertain themselves during their fast on the day of Tij.</figcaption></figure>

Women celebrate Tij

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F323tUAS99w&amp;feature=youtu.beInside buses on their daily commute Nepalis are used to listening to familiar-sounding songs that feature alternating female and male voices, responding to one another, often cheekily.Called lok dohori (people’s duet) this genre originated with the Gurung community and its tradition of the rodi ghar dance halls. After a hard day of harvests on the terrace farms, young men and women challenged each other with duets in which the musical repartee had to come within 30 seconds.“The rodi tradition had gone by the time we grew up in Gorkha, but our elders still sang the duets and we learnt it from them. We sang about love, happiness and sadness,” recalls noted folk singer Harimaya Gurung. “But the songs have changed a lot. These days it is not as emotional as before.”Cultural historians agree that the commercialisation of the entertainment industry and the advent of YouTube and Facebook have cost Nepali folk songs their cultural value. Still, every Tij festival folk singers come up with new numbers in which the lyrics delve into contemporary issues like migration, patriarchy or even corruption in government.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/on-a-high-note/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Tibetan music in Nepal’s sacred valley</a>, Sewa Bhattarai“We must change as the trend develops,” notes folk singer Chandra Sharma of the National Folk and Duet Song Academy. “They may be commercial hits, but they have mostly added to the continued appeal of the lok dohori genre.”However, there are complaints about folk songs being too explicit or provocative, even obscene. Sharma admits there are some extreme examples, but his Academy has set standards and criteria for song lyrics.The folk songs are changing in other ways, too. The popular and controversial song by Pashupati Sharma, Lutna sake lut (Loot all you can) was a satirical critique of rampant corruption, and became an anthem for frustrated Nepalis, especially when it was censored after the singer received threats from ruling party youth.“These voices have brought positive changes. There are many songs about corruption, freedom for women, against caste discrimination and songs about the state of the country. That means folk duets are relevant and playing a constructive role in society,” hit folk singer Badri Pangeni told Nepali Times.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/eastern-melodies-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Eastern melodies in Kathmandu</a>, Sewa Bhattarai<h2>Message or entertainment?</h2><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a54259c7e80680e052390jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/>New generation lok dohori singers who want to send a message sometimes find themselves up against traditional expectations. “I have sung songs with social content, but when I sing on stage I focus on romantic songs, because that is what people want to hear,” says Kala Lamsal, a contemporary folk duet singer who recently released her Tij song, Patali.Singer Mina Lama tries to find a balance. “It depends on the place and time,” she says. “I prefer to sing songs that give a message as well as entertaining songs to sing with friends and family.”Generally, fans who attend a stage performance want fast-moving entertainment, says Lama. “People today want to dance and have fun. While there are people who listen to the lyrics, the crowd during festivals and mela (fairs) include more young people, who enjoy dancing.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/fire-in-the-belly-2/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Still dancing and singing for Nepal revolution,</a> Sewa Bhattarai<h2>Changing Tij tunes</h2><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a54289c7e80680e052391jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Tij is traditionally celebrated by women all over Nepal either for the long lives of their husbands, or so they can find good husbands. Dressed in red saris, red and green bangles, and other colourful ornaments, they sing and dance on the streets while thronging Pashupati and other temples to pray to Shiva and Parbati, the celestial couple.Although some activists boycotted Tij because of its patriarchal overtones, today the festival's songs carry a message of gender empowerment and poke fun at the patriarchy, while at the same time promoting solidarity. However, as women get more educated, even that is changing. Many women just want to have fun with their female relatives and friends and do not want to sing only depressing songs about victimhood.“People asked me why women were only singing about suffering because not all women suffer. This made me change my mind,” says folk duet singer Chandra Sharma. “It seemed that women just want to let their hair down and make Tij their festival of sisterhood.”Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/parodying-patriarchy-at-tij/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Parodying patriarchy at Tij,</a> Sewa Bhattarai<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110814114/636a542a9c7e80680e052392jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="1173"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It’s not only the content that is changing, male singers are also performing Tij songs, which would have been rare 20 years ago. For example, the 2018 Tij song, Motiram ra Jamuna by Badri Pangeni delivered the positive message about husband Motiram supporting his wife Jamuna when she gets elected in local elections. Because of her busy schedule, the husband begins doing all the household work:“Barsaudekhi nariharu le gare chulochaukaMahila le ni paunu parcha desh banaune mauka”“For years women worked in the kitchen station,Now, she need the chance to build the nation.”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdGQaphxrxMSays folk singer Harimaya Gurung: “Tij is a festival of women but men also sing Tij songs. I think this is a good trend because it means they are supporting us women.”Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16252#.XV5_LuMzbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Re-inventing Tij</a>, Mallika Aryal

Nepali folk songs move beyond love and loss

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P59ri5M1KM&amp;feature=youtu.beTij has been called a festival of women, and indeed it is a time Nepali women let their hair down, dance their troubles away, visit their maternal homes and sing bittersweet songs of longing and separation. In times when violence against women, domestic violence and rape are seemingly on the rise, Tij has taken on an added role of social protest.Yet, critics say Tij is also seen as a festival that has entrenched woman’s secondary status in Nepali society. The ritual fast they are required to undertake ostensibly for the longevity of their husbands is singled out for special condemnation. And lately, Tij feasts and parties have become somewhat decadent and commercialised.Many, however, argue that the festival has nothing to do with men anyway, and women actually fast to emulate Shiva’s consort Parvati who fasted to rebel against gender discrimination even in heaven.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921b99c7e80680e03a0ebjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="964"/>“The qualities that Parvati embodies is being revered, not the person. At Tij, women aspire to emulate those qualities, not necessarily Parvati the goddess,” explains Nitya Pandey, a PhD student and teacher of literature who observes the festival.The way Tij was traditionally celebrated had a lot to do with women’s empowerment and freedom: they were free from housework and it was even a chance for them to pass disparaging comments about their husbands and marriage. Tij is a festival in which women infiltrate a patriarchal festival to subvert that very patriarchy.Indira Acharya Mishra has analysed Tij songs for her doctoral thesis, and says women used to mostly sing about how they did not get to eat good food, and how their in-laws did not let them celebrate Tij. Today, women sing about how much fun they have on Tij, and how they look forward to visiting their parents.“Traditional songs were sad and full of pathos, now they have become bolder and full of humour,” Mishra explains. “But the sense is the same: women use the songs to parody the patriarchy, and raise their voices for equality.”What has also changed is that Tij has become more secular, and more commercial, while identity has added a new significance to the festival. “Tij is a tradition of Brahmin Chhetri women, so they want to celebrate it as part of their identity,” says Mishra. “But some aspects of it are also seen as being disempowering, and modern women have removed the more regressive aspects of it.”Today, everyone is included in the merrymaking: schools celebrate Tij with children's mothers, offices and organisations hold Tij parties, and women of all ages eat and drink.“It is good to see women enjoying Tij as a celebration of womanhood, and I enjoy celebrating with them,” says Margaret Donahue, who has lived in Nepal for 40 years and has observed the transformation of Tij.There will always be criticism of Tij, but women seem inclined to ignore it and have a blast, and use the festival to take a jab at patriarchy.Tij this year falls on Wednesday, 12 September<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921bd9c7e80680e03a0ecjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2500" height="1667">

Parodying patriarchy at Tij

https://youtu.be/4adGA4P0k54The buses to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2013/06/17/distress-call-from-darchula/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Darchula</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10816#.W5EAds4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Baitadi</a>, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16115#.W5D_Ss4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Doti </a>or <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/kundadixit/2013/03/13/not-so-far-west/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dadelhura </a>were all packed last week for the annual Gaura Festival of womanhood, celebrated in Western Nepal, and wherever people from the west of Nepal live.Across the districts of Far Western Nepal, towns are deserted and villages are abuzz with women engaged in weeklong fasting, feasting and revelry. This religious festival has deep agrarian roots, and celebrates the closes ties women have to the land and their crops.Saraswati Bhatta is shaping an image of the Goddess Gaura from rice stalks and decorating it like a bride with a red dress and jewelry. The doll god is then treated like a woman visiting her maternal home for her family’s pampering.Gaura is another name for Gauri, Shiva’s consort. Unlike Tij, which is marked on 14 September in the rest of Nepal, the Gaura Festival is more ritualistic with women soaking grains, fasting and then eating the sprouts. Unlike Tij, on the main day the men fast too until their wives’ puja ends.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369215f9c7e80680e03a0cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>A woman throws down her walking stick to join hands with other women and sing along. All pics: BIKRAM RAI</figcaption></figure>But like Tij, Gaura is essentially a festival of, by and for women. Gaura songs are performed at predetermined times encapsulating the lifestyle and values of the entire community here in the remote mountains of western Nepal. The songs are about the courtship of Gaura and Maheswor (Siva and Parvati for easterners), a woman’s experience of childbirth, and many other social events.The lyrics outline social customs like the dates of festivals, and behaviour expected from men and women. Some songs describe which food is found in what season, and even where to find water. The festival serves as an elaborate information and communication system set in song long before mass media served that purpose. The songs instill a knowledge of roles, values, and social mores, and help people feel rooted in the community.The Gaura platform still gives women in a society steeped in patriarchy a rare chance to voice their perspective and provide valuable insight into women’s lives and thoughts. On the fourth day of the festival, women dance with the image of Gaura and send her off to her husband’s home, singing songs of bereavement.However, the Gaura Festival, like Tij, while allowing women to let off steam hand serve an emancipating role, also establishes the gender status quo, instructing women them about their place in society.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18795#.W5EfLM4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Songs of our past</a>, Amar Gurung<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921629c7e80680e03a0cbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="960"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The festival is followed by popular mela, and people from all over the region congregate here in Malikarjun of Darchula situated amidst lush mountains above the clouds. Food stalls and shops line the site, damaha players strike drum beats rousing people with deeply devotional music. The strong feeling of community is enhanced by women in traditional clothes and jewelry who do slow walk-dances while singing in circles for hours.“Both men and women sing songs of local histories and epic poems, and express their feelings spontaneously, this might seem like just entertainment, but it is also a way of preserving and passing down our history,” says Mohan Dhami, an expert of local culture.Despite its continuing popularity, the significance of Gaura in communicating the spirit of community is losing out to modern lifestyles with mobility and mass communication. However, it still carries a strong sense of identity for the people of Western Nepal wherever they may live.Read also: <a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16252#.W5Eeys4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Re-inventing Tij</a>, Mallika Aryal<a style="background-color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.01em; font-size: 15px;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/songs-of-rebellion,3249" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Songs of rebellion</a>, Smriti Basnet<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921659c7e80680e03a0ccjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921689c7e80680e03a0cdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369216c9c7e80680e03a0cejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369216e9c7e80680e03a0cfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921729c7e80680e03a0d0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1010"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921759c7e80680e03a0d1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/636921789c7e80680e03a0d2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="2000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221107161116/6369217c9c7e80680e03a0d3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="2000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>

Fasting, feasting and festivities of Gaura

One smoggy winter morning in February 2019, Ekta regretted coming to her sculpture class. It was the first day of her period, and the 19-year-old wished she was home, curled up in bed with a hot water bag to soothe her cramps.
Her class was at Kalapremi Ceramic Studio, a dark room on the ground floor of a house in Maharajganj, and Ekta’s teacher was the artist Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’, a noted sculptor.
Two other students were already there, using all their muscle strength to knead the sculpting clay. Ekta, now 24, recalls how Kalapremi asked her if she was feeling all right. She avoided him, as she did not want everyone to know she was menstruating.
Kalapremi repeatedly asked Ekta what was wrong. She finally muttered that she was having her period, after which he grabbed her hand and led her to a partitioned corner of the studio and sat her on a chair. Before she could stop him, he slid his hand under her dress, and started massaging her abdomen.
“I was horrified,” Ekta recalls. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t listen, asking me not to be shy, saying he knew how to relieve my pain. He stopped only after I protested furiously.”&nbsp;
The art tutor then said, “You’re like my daughter. I’m doing it out of love to make you feel better, but you’re so stubborn.”&nbsp;
“Instead of saying sorry he acted like I was the one having crazy thoughts,” remembers Ekta, adding that from April 2016 to August 2020 beginning the time she was 16, the artist sexually abused and harassed her on several occasions. &nbsp;
Now, Ekta and the artist’s other former students are finally sharing their experiences and some are pressing legal charges against him, hoping that others do not have to endure what they did.&nbsp;
Award-winning artist and teacher Gopal Das Shrestha ‘Kalapremi’ (the name means ‘Art Lover’) is known for his ceramic art, sculpture, and contemporary pottery. He was <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-house-of-kalapremi">profiled in Nepali Times after a collaborative exhibition</a>, ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ at the Siddhartha Art Gallery three years ago.&nbsp;
His pieces, titled Gaalis, featured sculpted female figures with the heads of dogs, sheep, and donkeys (pictured) to depict derogatory terms for women. Some critics said the collection was a satire on feminists.
Kalapremi started his artistic and teaching career in 1983 and over the years taught at Bhanubhakta School, Kathmandu University School of Arts, Lalitkala Campus and at his private Kalapremi Ceramic Studio. He has also lectured at Jeonju University in South Korea and recently at Tabor Academy in the United States.
Seven of Kalapremi’s former students were interviewed for this story. Five female students said he touched them inappropriately in his studio or at Kathmandu University. Two male students said they witnessed him abuse and harass the women. In all cases, the students struggled to recognise the abuse when it occurred, and the lack of reporting systems left them to cope on their own for years.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, students shared a social media post hinting at Kalapremi’s history of abusive behaviour following which more students of the artist reached out sharing similar experiences. Some students spoke of abuse that happened as long as 20 years ago.
Kalapremi, 60, has denied the allegations. He told Nepali Times: “Some years ago, there was a movement encouraging people to hug and kiss. I used to do it purely out of friendship and love. But after seeing posts on social media last year calling out my behaviour, I realised my actions may have hurt some people. I understand now that I should have been more mindful.”
He added: “I am also an auxiliary health worker, so I know the exact points to massage to relieve menstrual pain. It’s not just menstruation, I take anyone who is ill to the hospital.”
Sexual abuse is much more rampant than reported given how difficult it is to prove it in court. The law defines sexual abuse as occuring when someone touches another’s private parts, coerces them into touching theirs, uses vulgar language, shows degrading images, or behaves indecently towards them without consent.&nbsp;
Ekta and her fellow students are consulting lawyer Suneeta Regmi Pokhrel, who says they know that even if the court decides in their favour, it is difficult to survive after speaking up, and influential men defend themselves saying they are being framed.&nbsp;
“They are in a lot of pain and weep when recalling how he abused them,” Regmi Pokhrel told us. “They are angry and have filed a case against him, but they are also terrified. They know he is a powerful man and they have seen how our society treats women who speak up against abusers. Unless people speak up, perpetrators will be emboldened.”
Art and academia in Nepal simply reflect the power imbalances in society where people with intersecting identities experience worse forms of abuse. Theatre actors Raj Kumar Pudasaini, Rajan Khatiwada, and Sunil Pokhrel were called out during the #MeToo movement in the Nepali theatre scene in 2019. Even after the allegations Pokhrel went on to receive national awards, while others continued to work without repercussions.
“If you speak up against abusers, you gradually get sidelined from projects,” explained a theatre artist who wished anonymity fearing professional setbacks. “The theatre scene in Nepal is quite small, you just have to make peace with the perpetrators and work with them if you want to sustain yourself.”&nbsp;
In academia there is a history of faculty members sexually harassing students and getting away with it. After Tribhuvan University (TU) lecturer Krishna Bhattachan was accused of harassing women students, the university said it would follow Nepal’s sexual harassment law and set up a reporting mechanism. But nothing happened to the professor, who had already retired. Instead, he counter-accused the students of 'attacking the indigenous people’s movement with baseless allegations' as <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/letters/2019/01/29/bhattachan-responds">he told the Kathmandu Post in 2019</a>. He continues to be featured as a prominent speaker including at TU.
Other faculty members previously accused of sexual harassment include Jagadish Murti Koirala from TU, Bishnu Prasad Acharya from Ratna Rajya Campus, and Bodha Raj Tripathee from Lalitpur Madhyamik Vidhyalaya. A woman staff member from TU also filed a sexual abuse complaint against Dambar Chemjong from TU.
Prominent figures like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-rise-and-fall-of-nims-purja">mountaineer Nims Purja</a> have been <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/sports/mountaineering-sexual-harassment-abuse-nims-purja.html">accused of sexual assault</a>, and cricketer Sandeep Lamichhane, actor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/celebrity-rape-case-spotlights-nepal-laws">Paul Shah</a>, and former speaker of Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mahara-arrested">Krishna Bahadur Mahara</a> have been accused of rape, but society-at-large has let off the alleged perpetrators amdist a larger debate about justice for survivors and punishment of perpetrators.&nbsp;
‘Gaushala-26’ is the court name given to the 18-year-old who accused Sandeep Lamichhane, former captain of Nepal’s national cricket team and skipper of Biratnagar Kings in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/here-comes-the-nepal-premier-league">ongoing Nepal Premier League</a>, of rape. She left the country citing society questioning her character affecting her mental health while Lamichhane got an outpouring of support. In May, the Patan High Court overturned a prior verdict that found Lamichhane guilty of rape and had sentenced him to eight years in prison. During the 23-month legal battle to pursue justice, Gaushala-26 faced threats of gang rape and acid attacks.&nbsp;
Exhausted by the struggle, Gaushala-26 sought to “move to a new world” where she could live free without hiding her identity.
Actress Samragyee Rajya Laxmi Shah in an Instagram video now deleted detailed the harassment she faced from a filmmaker during a movie shoot. She did not name any name but veteran actor Bhuwan KC filed a defamation case against Rana, but the court ruled that the charge lacked sufficient evidence.&nbsp;
Former Kathmandu mayor <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/theytoo">Keshav Sthapit also mocked the #MeToo movement</a>, calling accusations against him by journalists Rashmila Prajapati and Ujjwala Maharjan “a rape of men’s rights”.
Serial Abuse
Back at the Kalapremi Ceramics studio, another former student, 24-year-old Rajiv, says he felt the need to speak out after seeing his female classmates being abused.&nbsp;
“He frequently kissed them on their cheeks,” he told Nepali Times. “Whenever they walked into the studio he flailed his arms like a child asking for a hug. They awkwardly hugged him from the side, but he pulled them closer, held their chin, and kissed their cheeks.”&nbsp;
Rajiv says he also saw Kalapremi pull the women’s bra straps, touch their breasts, and slap their buttocks. The young students would freeze, not knowing how to react, and if they protested, he would say it was “normal in art”. Rajiv, 19 at the time like his classmates, remembers thinking perhaps the well-respected artist was right after all.
Another student, Luna, who took lessons at Kalapremi’s studio from 2020 to 2022 did try to confront the tutor after he made an obscene proposal to her. She recalls: “One day when the other students had left the studio and it was just the two of us, he told me that God had given him special artistic talent and he could transfer those powers to me. But to do that both of us will have to be naked, inside a dark room, and have sex.”
Luna, who was 18 then, was livid and told him she did not want any of his powers, but she says he laughed at her as if he was joking. She did not tell her family about the incident because she thought no one would believe her.&nbsp;
“They were all in awe of this famous artist and felt I should be grateful that to be learning sculpting from him,” she says. “I was scared to be alone with him in case he talked about sex again. My coping mechanism was to be rude so he wouldn’t try to come close to me.”
Seeing how some classmates were standing up to Kalapremi, Ekta too tried to push back against his advances, but she said he found ways to coerce her. Since Ekta, Rajiv, and Luna could not afford Kalapremi’s Rs30,000 monthly fee for lessons, he had offered them all a stipend to assist him in the studio.
“He had spondylosis and took me to his therapy sessions to learn massage techniques, then he often made me and other students massage him,” says Ekta. Whenever she refused, he would feign pain to make her feel sorry for him. “He would insist that I put my hands under his shirt so that I could massage him better,” she adds.
The art tutor often tried to “seduce sympathy” from Ekta by sharing how he had never been loved as a child and was “sexually frustrated” as an adult.&nbsp;
“At 7PM, he would pour himself Signature whiskey and immediately go off again about how he was sex-starved. I didn’t know how to respond. It took me time to realise alcohol was just an excuse to talk about sex,” Ekta says.
If convicted, Kalapremi could face financial penalty and/or a prison sentence of up to three years according to Section 224 of National Penal (Code) Act 2017.&nbsp;
Data suggests that victims of child sexual abuse on average take nearly 24 years to tell someone about their trauma, and some may never disclose it at all.&nbsp;
“In our culture, children are rarely taught about boundaries. They often react, show anger when adults pinch their cheeks. But adults insist they did it out of love, and force the children to accept it,” says Sita Lama, a psychotherapist at Manka Kura. “And even when someone touches them inappropriately they struggle to identify and verbalise it.”
When perpetrators claim to be “acting out of love”, Lama says survivors are likely to perceive it as something safe, rather than recognising it as abuse.&nbsp;
“It may take years for them to realise they were abused,” she explains. "And even when they become aware, the power imbalance with the abuser and the associated shame often prevents survivors from speaking up."
Other former students from the School of Art at Kathmandu University have also come forward years later, saying Kalapremi sexually abused them. As young adults, they felt his behaviour was off but were uncertain if it was inappropriate, illegal, or they did not know how to respond. After having understood that it was indeed abuse, they say they are speaking out now to protect others.&nbsp;
Amina Singh, a visiting faculty member at Kathmandu University, says there is no clause against sexual abuse in contracts of teachers, and there is no formal grievance handling mechanism for the students.&nbsp;
“So the only way students can to deal with sexual abuse is approach someone they trust,” she says.
Eight other former art students of Lalit Kala Campus and Srijana College of Fine Arts of Tribhuvan University and other private art studios in Kathmandu say they were also sexually abused by their art teachers. Three faculty members interviewed from these institutions said they saw the abuse, but felt it was futile to report it given how powerful the teachers were.
In the absence of a formal system, some longtime women artists warned each other about “problematic” artists. They shared &nbsp;a “heads-up” to be more cautious when collaborating with them, and avoided responding to their calls and texts after work hours.
To ensure art institutions are safe for all, galleries, museums, artist studios, and smaller art spaces need to develop policies on sexual harassment. This would include a code of conduct or studio policies that hold the leadership accountable and outline the principles of professional ethics.&nbsp;
Students and employees should inquire about accountability mechanisms for raising concerns, both formally and informally, advocates say.
Three years after Ekta left the ceramics studio, she learnt that Kalapremi had harassed many other women. Still trying to get a footing in the art industry, she attended a workshop in Kathmandu where women artists discussed ways to stay safe in the art sector.&nbsp;
Since it was a close-knit group Ekta opened up about how she felt violated and realised she was not alone, he had been abusing underprivileged students for years, and this was common knowledge among artists in Nepal.
Ekta says that even after she quit, Kalapremi continued sending her text messages like ‘I am thinking of you’, ‘Why have you stopped speaking with me’, or ‘I am waiting for your call’.&nbsp;
But what really forced her to act was when Ekta found out that he was sending similar texts to her younger sister.&nbsp;
“I’ve had enough,” she told us. “He abused me all these years but I won’t let him abuse my sister.” &nbsp;
Ekta, Rajiv and Luna are not the real names of the students.&nbsp;

‘Art Lover’ accused of sexual abuse

It was 8:15 in the evening of 25 March 1968 when everyone in the village of Batulechaur near Pokhara heard a deafening sound like thunder as a bright flashing object hurtled down to land in a field.&nbsp; That field belonged to Kul Timilsina, and the next morning he retrieved a sheet of metal about 2m by 1m and carried it home with the help of a few others, thinking it would be useful for his buffalo shed.&nbsp; Before he died at age 83 three years ago, Timilsina had told photo archivist Sunil Ulak that the black metal sheet was not rectangular and had rounded corners. There are a few witnesses still alive who have a clear recollection of the object that fell from the sky that night.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024120707128_75cc85aac56b9cc4a77366471f058d7b3eb6868776811b0923845c2d0a61f014" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="601" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>The field in Batulechaur belonging to Kul Timilsina where fragments of a flying object fell from the sky in 1968.</figcaption> </figure>  One of them is Timilsina’s wife Gyanu, who was 22 at the time. She had been at home, and remembers hearing the big bang and the sky becoming very bright. “We saw the thing in the field in the morning,” she told us. “It looked like a lid, a covering of some sort. The way it was stuck in the ground, it must have fallen from the sky. We thought we could use it to dry clothes on, and took it home.”&nbsp; Another witness is Kul Narayan Paudel. “I was only eight then. We ran to the field to see what had fallen. It was a four-sided metal sheet. The elders took it away, and I don't know what happened to it.” &nbsp; Ram Bahadur Baniya, a teacher at the local school, says he had heard the sheet had been brought to the school, and later handed over to the Zonal Commissioner at the time, Nanda Prasad Malla. “But that is all hearsay,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024120707128_0bf207a12063fb8155b3c8d9a00a94887b126380c9e0627527c84cf5e1101f54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1170" height="610" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Gyanu Timilsina, wife of Kul Timilsina.</figcaption> </figure>  There are two versions of what happened to Kul Timilsina’s metal sheet. One is that an American Peace Corp Volunteer teaching at the nearby Bindyabasini School took it, and another is that it was handed over to the government. Recently declassified Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and US State Department documents from the time say that the US Embassy in Kathmandu tracked down the object two years later and had it shipped back to the US. A telegram from the Department of State and Department of Defense tagged as ‘MOON DUST / Space Fragments’ dated 1 March 1972 stated: ‘1. Restored space fragment will be on board Embassy support flight 115 arriving Kathmandu on or about March 10. Fragment is packed in shipping crate (cargo no. 72-33365) marked in care of DAO.&nbsp; 2. State and Defense representatives examined fragments prior to shipment finding restoration acceptable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241207071212_929d903ee06d41baa4f6040e981cd7c7d7bd75cc9c37c9b617d307fc8538d2df" data-rendition-name="original" width="856" height="568" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> <figcaption>Declassified CIA documents about the investigation into the object sighted in Pokhara. </figcaption> </figure>  The documents show that the US government, military and intelligence agencies investigated this incident thoroughly when it occurred, and have continued to revisit it ever since, as recently as five years ago. What is even more intriguing is that the object that fell in Pokhara was not the only unidentified space object that fell to earth that year. There were similar sightings of objects falling from the sky in Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan between 19 February and 25 March 1968.&nbsp; These mysteries were the subject of a CIA investigation in 1968 titled ‘<a href="https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP81R00560R000100070007-8.pdf">Sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects in Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan</a>’, and the report is part of the recent online declassification of 800,000 top-secret documents from the period.&nbsp; &nbsp;Although unidentified flying objects (UFOs) have a connotation now of being alien craft, it could be pieces of satellite, missile, rocket or even aircraft. The CIA report documents six sightings in 1968 and quotes local sources as describing all of them having similar characteristics: bright blue or red streaks in the sky accompanied by loud sounds like lightning and thunder and objects falling to the ground. Aside from the metallic object that was found in Batlechaur, there were other items also found nearby in Tallakot, Tureypasal, Armalakot and Maidan. Whatever the object was, it seems to have disintegrated even before it hit the ground.&nbsp; The CIA report records the first sighting on 19 February 1968 in various parts of Sikkim and Olangchung Gola and Ghunsa in eastern Nepal. The light was said to be ‘long and thin’ and giving out ‘green and red light’. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241207071212_c3c825027d966a2aedc846970390eebe063957503c7eacc8e01e0517843f9bbb" data-rendition-name="original" width="892" height="596" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara "> </figure>  Two days later on 21 February, a soundless blue object was seen traveling fast across the sky above Thimphu in Bhutan. Then on 4 March there were multiple daytime sightings or white streaks in the sky at Chang La Pass, Fukche and Koyul in Ladakh. There were more sightings in Ladakh on the very day fragments fell near Pokhara on 25 March 1968.&nbsp; After the sightings in Pokhara, rumours started flying in Kathmandu that these were aliens trying to land on Earth, it could be Russian or Chinese spy planes or satellites, and some even say it as a sign from heaven that the end of the world was near. This was at the height of the Cold War. The Russians and Americans were testing their thermonuclear devices as well as intercontinental ballistic missile delivery systems. The Washington-Beijing rapprochement had not yet happened, and China was making quick progress testing atomic bombs. Within two years after its first atomic test, in 1966 China exploded its first hydrogen bomb at the Lop Nur site in Xinjiang, 3,000km to the north from Nepal. After neary six decades, what is still intriguing is that all the sightings within a few months of each other in 1968 were along the Himalayan arc bordering Tibet: from Bhutan, Sikkim Nepal, to Ladakh. The US military intelligence seems to have concluded that this was not a coincidence and there were frequent research trips to the site in Pokhara by American officials in the months after the incident. With the help of the Royal Nepal Army, the region north of Pokhara was thoroughly searched.&nbsp; A confidential memo dated 25 June 1968 by Jerry C Trippy to a ‘Mr Farley’ mentions that the US Air Force’s Foreign Technology Division had decided that the debris could be important because it may be related to a Chinese missile test or a Soviet ‘Vehicle Venik’ rocket.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20241207071216_feb5425692dc36b20187de4e4fcc2ce9fd12b6d9e1b8724398e50bcdbf9032fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  On 28 August 1968 the US Embassy in Kathmandu sent a letter to Washington DC saying that the object could be of Soviet origin, possibly from when the rocket carrying the ‘Kosmos 208’ satellite re-entered the atmosphere. But why were the fragments falling to earth several weeks apart, and in the same region? No one knows where the metal sheet that Kul Timilsina recovered is now. It was definitely packed in a crate and taken to the US, and although it is rumoured that it was returned that is not very likely. Archivist Sunil Ulak heard from the Timilsina family that CIA officials had returned to the site five years ago. &nbsp; Interest in UFOs peaked in the US in the 1950s, with the Cold War space race and tests of atomic weapons and delivery rockets. CIA and scientists were being sent to investigate sightings, both publicly and privately. Could the Pokhara fragments as well as the sightings in Ladakh and Bhutan actually be alien craft falling to earth? The renewal in interest in space travel in large part due to Elon Musk’s SpaceX, UFOs and sightings are again subjects of public interest.&nbsp; Even 57 years later, even if there was definitive proof about whether the Batlechaur fragment was from a Chinese missile or a soviet rocket, it has not been made public in documents declassified so far. We may never know.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241207071216_b6938795f40731e7657fd6dcbb3cf460a326186a15eb11d4f832f602201ff598" data-rendition-name="original" width="642" height="320" loading="lazy" alt="UFO over Pokhara"> </figure>  Sunil Ulak speculates if the debris actually came from an American aircraft, perhaps on an intel mission upon China. “Which could explain why they were so thorough in collecting the fragments in Pokhara,” he says. But that still does not explain the multiple sightings weeks apart in 1968.&nbsp; Indeed, US military aircraft were at that time flying frequent night-time missions from air force bases in India to supply weapons to Khampa guerrilla camps in Nepal located north of Pokhara in Mustang. It could very well be that the Chinese shot down one such aircraft. The other sightings could have been contrails of US spy planes, or Chinese anti-aircraft missiles.&nbsp; There were quite a few developments regarding UFOs in 2024. In a US congressional hearing in July, former intelligence officer David Grusch claimed that the government had long been involved in a program to investigate and retrieve non-human craft crashes, and then try to reverse engineer them. However Grusch did not show any evidence.&nbsp; The UAP Disclosure Act of 2024 was signed into law by Joe Biden in December 2023. It plans to oversee the public disclosure of UFO information. However, there is a clause in it that prevents disclosure if it would cause threats to military defense, intelligence operations or foreign relations.&nbsp; It is unlikely that the declassified documents about sightings in the Himalayan will cause any real surprise about definite evidence of alien life even if it was found. It seems humanity will continue, at least for now, to wonder about curious lights in the sky and whether there is anybody out there.&nbsp;

UFO over Pokhara

Four international names in architecture, Shigeru Ban, Rem Koolhaas, Tadao Ando and Louis Isadore Kahn, all left their mark in Nepal. But despite their best intentions, the ambitious designs fizzled out. Ban, Koolhaas and Ando won Pritzkers, the best known international award for architecture, and Kahn could have won it had the prize been given in his lifetime. But their designs fell short of transforming Nepali architecture and did not help inspire local architects.&nbsp; Why were these four ‘starchitects’ unable to pull off their Nepal projects and enrich the country with exemplary contemporary designs? The failure, especially the violation of Kahn’s design, also raises larger questions about how much contemporary architecture is valued in Nepal.&nbsp; Whereas Sri Lanka had Geoffrey Bawa and Bangladesh had Mazharul Islam, the pioneers of contemporary architecture in Nepal have had far less public appreciation. One wonders if Nepali architecture only refers to the monuments and heritage of the past. Nepal does have examples of outstanding modern architecture such as the &nbsp;पाङ्रे घर ‘Wheel House’ and खुट्टे घर &nbsp;‘House on Legs’ by Shankar Nath Rimal in the 1960s. These are the best examples of how some Nepali designers successfully tailored modern architecture to the Nepali context.&nbsp; Ten years ago, Nepal had three architecture magazines, SPACES, praXis and Business Architecture, but none of these survived. This newspaper has prominently covered contemporary architecture, and the built environment, but these are exceptions in Nepal’s media. There have been a few encouraging signs. The 2024 exhibition Modern Encounters in Architecture in Kathmandu Valley (1945-1985) at the Taragaon Museum had many visitors and its accompanying book is a seminal document.&nbsp; In 2023, the Mountain Architecture Dialogue (MAD) that focused on examples of good-practice sustainable contemporary architecture for the mountainous terrains of Nepal was a packed event with over 300 young architects, engineers, environmentalists and architecture students. <h2>Shigeru Ban</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122003128_8bb8dde080c5698c2585966bef27ce4c08e4ee488d3432b2caac98b9de762dfe" data-rendition-name="original" width="990" height="1074" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  Shigeru Ban had already built a name for himself in post-disaster construction when he came to Nepal following the 2015 earthquakes in which 500,000 people lost their homes. The basic design and its 3D-rendered images were reviewed in upbeat articles on DOMUS, Architectural Review, Dezeen, and Arch Daily.&nbsp; But his signature cardboard tubes could not handle the monsoon and the roof structure had to be re-designed with timber. Only two shelters were completed in Sindupalchok, and only one of them still stands at the Hyatt Regency grounds today, as Ban’s souvenir to Nepal.&nbsp; <h2>Rem Koolhaas</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024122003128_58afec9b57accfa38327af0936648c6eb2f2e11ff18f1af8ca27383dc57dc222" data-rendition-name="original" width="750" height="722" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  The designs of Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas have a specific signature: bold shapes and an intriguing architectural typology that challenges standard building blocks. Some designs even seem to defy gravity, like the CCTV headquarters in Beijing: an angular, continuous geometry of glass and steel.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241220031216_a18dc8a8d6b97bc6fa9d590036cf374f9dc3709c699fe5c5787304bbd05cb17d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1812" height="1168" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Rem Koolhaas' design for Ullen's School in Khumaltar.</figcaption> </figure>  Koolhaas was commissioned by Belgian billionaire Guy Ullens to design a new building for Ullens School in Khumaltar. The most prominent feature is its vertical glass block staircase. Some interior spaces have lowered windowsills, which provide ample views and daylight. But the school building has gone unremarked in Nepal. <h2>Tadao Ando</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241220031212_cc16bd6feb8be07a7198285b847a45d2126dc3a479e0cc7370331861fc544675" data-rendition-name="original" width="626" height="628" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> </figure>  Doctors providing aid to victims of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995 in Japan requested Tadao Ando, who had donated his Pritzker money to the victims, to also make a design for a hospital in Butwal.&nbsp; Ando’s contribution would be pro-bono and the construction was funded by the Hanshin Earthquake victims and by the popular Japanese newspaper Mainichi, as a tribute to Nepali doctors. The first block that Ando designed for the Siddhartha Children and Women’s Hospital (SCWH) was the out-patient department. He quickly realised that he would not be able to pull off structures with his typical style of smooth-finished, high-quality concrete.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20241220031216_73ec0950d52320277ccc81d4a66fa6aa6acb38141e7b7633683e4cf8179dc579" data-rendition-name="original" width="1594" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Tadao Ando's Siddhartha Children and Women Hospital in Butwal.</figcaption> </figure>  Ando wrote in the online architectural catalog Architectuul, that the two main problems with the project were costs and the availability of local technology. ‘It became a facility that has a slightly different expression from the buildings I have completed so far,’ he wrote. He designed a colonnade for the west façade that would provide shelter from harsh sunlight, and the exposed brick walls were locally manufactured bricks.&nbsp; The hospital is characterised by modernist cuboidal massing, but the outer brick façades now appear unintentionally badly weathered by monsoons. The interiors lack both sufficient natural light and natural ventilation. <h2>Louis I Kahn</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024122003128_612e199d62fb3e72b6b8f6a936b0fa0451d8c0aa3d831c071320bf423ee3d67f" data-rendition-name="original" width="694" height="926" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal NT"> </figure>  American architect Louis I Kahn had experience of projects in South Asia, and several were under construction when he died suddenly in 1974. Amongst these were the National Assembly complex in Dhaka, the Indian Institute of Management in Ahmedabad and the Family Planning and Maternal Child Welfare Centre in Kathmandu.&nbsp; Kahn had started the USAID funded project in Nepal by developing a master plan for the government institutional zone in Kathmandu, which included a building for the Health Ministry. The building’s façade in exposed brick has deeply recessed vertical windows for shading.&nbsp; The balancing of accentuated horizontal lines in the brickwork with the verticality of the larger composition is the work of a master. The brick walls rise up into punctured parapet walls at the roof level. These square apertures ‘frame the sky’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241220031216_69c2e4972dbe38773e0a3a3f1129485c9c87033ee84cd454e24ae0dc772d05cf" data-rendition-name="original" width="1924" height="1242" loading="lazy" alt="Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal"> <figcaption>Louis Kahn's plan for the Ministry of Health.</figcaption> </figure>  When Kahn died, only the eastern half of the building was finished. The Western part was never built and Nepal’s bureaucrats decided that without paint, the exposed brick façade was not finished. Then in 1995, citing roof leakage and a space crunch, the Health Ministry added a floor.&nbsp; The frames-to-the-sky in the roof parapet were converted into windows and topped off with a sloping roof of corrugated steel sheets, whose only virtue was that it was cost-effective.&nbsp; Kahn’s orthogonal composition, which clean horizontal and vertical lines, was desecrated despite a public outcry and legal challenges from architects and cultural organisations. A version of this article was first published in HIMAL Southasian. Illustrations by Varun S Bapu.

Forgotten international starchitects in Nepal

If you were raised in Nepal, you must have picked up its unique set of vocabulary: आन्दोलन, चक्का जाम, बन्द, राँके जुलुस, आफ्नो मान्छे, हाम्रो दल, कर्फु and many more words connoting political protest.
We became familiar with the acrid smell of burning tyres, and eyes smarting from tear gas. And yet, everyone speaks of another revolution in the making. Not by desire, but by suffocation.
We heard speeches about नयाँ नेपाल, but the New Nepal never arrived. The governance system changed, but it did not reflect on people’s lives — except for those close to centres of power. The state is still unreachable and is not bothered about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/matter-of-life-and-debt">victims of loan sharks</a>, cooperative scams and other injustices.
Politicians continue to speak in sound bites, but fail to deliver. They have mastered the game of pointing fingers towards an external enemy and convincing people that they are never at fault. The political narrative is so disconnected from the actual analysis of the problem that suffocation doesn’t go away after every revolution.
No genuine effort has been made to deliver at all, which is why there is a palpable sense of disillusionment in the air forcing us to seek another revolution, even if Nepal may not be able to afford it.
How has the current system successfully held power, even if the public is deeply frustrated? How is it that for three decades we continue to be led by the same faces, who have time and again, proved to us that they may be great politicians but not national leaders?
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal">My experience at the epicentre of politics</a> has led me to identify three cultures that have enabled political parties to keep a tight hold on power: acceptance, silence and dependency.
We accept things the way they are. We use fatalistic phrases like “नेपालमा यस्तै हो” or “नेपालको कानुन दैब जानुन”. While this resilience enables us to rise back up from devastating calamities, it is also a reason for our compliance with the status quo.
Despite so many ‘revolutions’ that have led to significant reforms, these phrases keep getting reinforced, to the point that the upcoming generations have made it their lingo.&nbsp;
This acceptance is not a symbol of law-abiding citizens, but citizens living in fear of those in power, unable to ask the whys and why-nots.
Innovation suffocates in this culture of acceptance of the status quo. This is manifested in remarks like “but we don’t have any laws for this,” or “we don’t have the capacity to implement this”. An innovator or entrepreneur therefore has to spend that energy to become a political lobbyist, often educating and convincing the bureaucracy.&nbsp;
Remember when locally assembled <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/designed-and-made-in-nepal">Yatri motorbikes</a>, despite having willing customers, had to suffer to secure license numbers because of a lack of regulations? Instead of creating new laws, the government kept chanting the “We will promote Nepal-made goods” mantra, leaving entrepreneurs in a labyrinth of bureaucracy. The weight of acceptance of the law lies heavily on innovators. Fatalism is a tactic used by those in power to generate mass fear in society.
When we accept, we become silent. This is a pervasive phenomenon. We are trained to keep quiet, lest we ruffle feathers, burn bridges, or not get the help we need in future. We know, yet we don’t speak.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">Bureaucratic hurdles in researching Nepal's bureaucracy</a>, Daniel W Edwards
Here is one example: the 2021 census shows that the number of baby boys born for every 100 baby girls is 112. This is a clear indication of female foeticide because of boy preference in society.
Despite such horrifying realities, there is finger-pointing within the government between the Ministry of Health and Population with the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the citizen level, we know those who are involved in killing girls. Yet, we don’t speak up. The Nepal Medical Council reports state that despite this gender imbalance at birth, there is no indication of any action.
But why would anyone speak against one's own fraternity, no matter how vile the act is?
When we accept and keep quiet, we become dependent on those who yield power. From getting our government procedure completed on time to getting transfers, to accessing any of our legally protected rights as well, we are forced to depend on our networks of चिनेको मान्छे people we know by blood, village, relations, political affiliation.
The culture of dependency has been the established way in Nepal. If you drive a two-wheeler or four-wheeler, and you get into a small accident, you will be asked to sort it yourself, dialing up the most powerful person you know. It becomes a competition of who knows who.
Recently I was told that there were calls from the Ministry of Health and Population and another from the Prime Minister's Office for just one medical position in a private hospital. Each was pushing its own candidate. Guess which candidate got the position.&nbsp;
The dependency of people is not on the laws or the state, it is with people in power, a reliance on the network of somebody who knows somebody, including those not officially in power.
These cultures are deeply ingrained in our heads, and in society. Collectively they form a vicious circle that helps those in power to retain power. This is not the society we want to live in.
Then, what do we do as a collective to break away from this? How do we break away from the cultures of acceptance and silence that have created this dependency? What can we do to ensure that our children do not have to learn the jargon of आन्दोलन before they learn about the state?
These are the cultures political parties need to shed rather than use them to perpetuate their power. This is what <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/an-alternative-to-alternative-politics-in-nepal">alternative politics</a> needs to be about.
Sumana Shrestha is a member of Parliament’s Education, Health and Information Technology parliamentary committee and represents the Rastriya Swatantara Party.

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