<figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd2809c7e80680e0d3027jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Illegal construction in Khula Manch as seen in this photo from May 2020. All photos: GOPEN RAI</figcaption></figure>Over the centuries, as Kathmandu expanded, the vast open space of Tundikhel that was once on the fringes of the old town has become the heart of the new city.The name comes from the Newa Tinkhya, a ‘khya’ means large open space on the outskirts of town set aside for social and cultural events. As dynasties came and went, Nepal’s rulers used the public space for their own convenience, and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/let-tundikhel-be-what-tundikhel-was/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer"> </a><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=5876#.Y4qyrS2B3ow" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tundikhel</a> went from a place for festivals, to supposedly being the largest military parade ground in Asia, and started being occupied piecemeal by the Army.Today, not even 15% of Tundikhel’s original expanse is open to the public. It is fragmented into sections under either institutional and/or military control. After the 2015 earthquake, even the area with public access has mounds of debris and is fenced off to park tipper trucks.In the latest instance of blatant encroachment, Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) under its <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/making-kathmandu-great-again/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">new mayor Balen Shah</a> has revived the idea of turning Khula Manch in Tundikhel into a parking facility.The area behind the Army pavilion with its Panchayat-era open air theatre has been the site for historical events like the People’s Movements of 1990 and 2006, and political rallies. After the earthquake it housed a tent city for survivors.Earlier this month, the 10th executive meeting of KMC set aside a budget to prepare a detailed project report for a three-storey underground parking in Khula Manch. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd2849c7e80680e0d3028jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Activists and experts are up in arms, saying the decision was taken without proper homework and consultation, and would threaten one of the last remaining <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-loses-its-open-spaces/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">open public spaces in Kathmandu</a>.“The authorities have never understood the essence of Tundikhel,” says activist Ganapati Lal Shrestha of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/let-tundikhel-be-what-tundikhel-was/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Occupy Tundikhel</a>, a citizen-led movement to reclaim encroached open spaces. “We had hoped that at least the newly elected local representatives would understand its importance, but even they have not.”The KMC has not divulged details, but activists are concerned that an underground parking will be detrimental to Kathmadu’s ecology and culture.“Underground parking will disturb the aquifer and water flow in the hiti around the area,” says Shrestha. “If it is about managing traffic, the basement of the commercial buildings which the Mayor previously cleared, and new parking facilities would be enough. Why target Tundikhel? And they should have consulted local stakeholders.” Kathmandu’s historic heart does not have much space left for new development. The plan should have been to use and improve what already exists.“Traffic management in the city core has been a challenge for KMC, and adding parking space makes sense. But from an ecological point of view, underground parking would impact the environment. How much are you willing to compromise on that front is a political decision,” says land and water management engineer Padma Sundar Joshi.Like other open spaces in Kathmandu Valley, Tundikhel plays an important role in the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/water-table-of-kathmandu-valley-falling-fast-recharge-to-replenish,4100" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">groundwater recharge system</a>  While surface water is replenished every monsoon, deep aquifers need to be recharged. “Underground parking can help in traffic management but there has to be a proper design and it should be carried out only after conducting a geological study,” says Joshi. “If the new mayor does not follow due process and consult the public, how is he any different from the previous mayors?” KMC spokesperson Nabin Manandhar admits that an economic feasibility study and geological investigation has not been conducted. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd2899c7e80680e0d3029jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Apart from the ecological impact, Khula Manch is also culturally important. To its northwest is Dui Maju, the goddess of grain which is considered the unseen energy linked to Goddess Taleju.According to Uddhab Karmacharya, the priest of Taleju temple, Dui Maju is always established where the goddess Taleju Bhawani exists. A special worship for Dui Maju takes place in April to coincide with special puja at Hanuman Dhoka. “The state cannot do whatever it likes, but they need to understand the importance of the space for Dui Maju and work to preserve it,” says Karmacharya. “They are turning Kathmandu into concrete with no regard for heritage conservation. They should leave Khula Manch alone.” This is not the first time the KMC has tried to turn the place into a parking lot. A feasibility study was conducted in 2016 for underground parking coverinf 23,133 sq m for 2,000 light vehicles.That year, the KMC started work on the 17-storey Kathmandu View Tower across the road, and moved the bus park from there to Khula Manch. After the bus park moved out, the area became a dumping site for construction material and temporary rooms for contractors. The KMC only acted to clear the area in 2019 after a public outcry by activists and heritage conservationists.The plot belonging to Dui Maju was leased for five years by the Guthi Sansthan to a certain Amrita Bhattarai who was supposed to upkeep the holy site. Instead, she leased the prime real estate to Marin Thakur International which sublet it to vendors. After widespread public protests in 2019, then Deputy Mayor Hari Prabha Khadgi padlocked the gates and announced that the city would take charge of the upkeep and cleanliness of the religious site.Urban Planner and Former VC of National Planning Commission Jagadish C Pokharel says adding underground parking will not ease <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/cars-vs-people-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">congestion in Kathmandu’s core</a>.“Underground parking is not a good idea in Kathmandu. We must keep in mind the soil condition and seismic aspects, and also how it will impact the water table,” says Pokharel.Concentrated parking there will affect the traffic in the surrounding roads, and it will need other infrastructure to ease traffic flow in and out.“The wiser route to go”, says Pokharel “is to decentralise traffic and study pocket parking areas above-ground with earthquake resistant technology.” <h2>Fragments of Tundikhel</h2> <figure><img width="780" height="1044" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd28d9c7e80680e0d302ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The first mention of Tundikhel was in a 1709 scripture engraved in Taleju Bhawani temple by Queen Bhuwan Laxmi. This was during the Malla period, when Tinkhyo (Tundikhel) was a vast open space set aside by Kathmandu's rulers for social and cultural events. The Italian Jesuit Ippolito Desderi who visited Kathmandu in 1721 in his chronicles mentions a two- mile long plain. In the 1850s, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/250-years-of-nepals-history-through-art/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Henry Ambrose Oldfield</a>, the British resident surgeon in Kathmandu, wrote in his book Sketches of Nepal that Tundikhel originally stretched from where the stadium is today to Rani Pokhari in the north. He estimated that it measured 2-3 miles in length, and 300 yards in width. Over the centuries, rulers as far back as <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/no-time-like-the-past/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Pratap Malla</a> divided it up for their own convenience. Today only 15% of the space is open to the public. In 1671, King Pratap Malla constructed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/building-back-rani-pokhari-even-better/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Rani Pokhari</a> on the northern part of Tundikhel. In the 1800s and early 1900s the Rana Regime used Tundikhel mostly for military parades and the pronouncements of edicts. When Bhimsen Thapa built a palace for himself in Lagan Tole south-west of Tundikhel, it brought the army even closer to Tundikhel. Barracks were constructed, and a canon foundry went up on the south-western side. Before Jang Bahadur, it used to be Chhauni that military drills were held. Once he returned from England, he turned Tundikhel into a parade ground for the Nepali army. There were two trees that stood at the centre of Tundikhel for many years, and one of them was a Chakala sima (खरीबोट in Nepal) around which a marble platform was later built. The other tree was called Yaka sima, the lone tree. Both are now gone. Major proclamations were made by the Rana rulers from the platform. In 1885, Bir Shumshere proclaimed himself prime minister from there, an in 1924, Chandra Shumshere announced the emancipation of the slave. In 1945, the end of World War 2 in which 20,000 Nepali soldiers fighting for the British Army were killed in action, was announced in the same place. In 1956, the southern part of Tundikhel was turned into a stadium for sporting events to mark the coronation of King Mahendra. In 1960, Sahid Gate was constructed with a road dividing Tundikhel into two halves. The Nepal Army then built a permanent pavilion for parades, and this Panchayat era structure is still used and is fenced off from the public. In 1962, Tundikhel was further fragmented to build Ratna Park dedicated to Queen Ratna and in 1973 Khula Manch was added with an open-air theatre. <h2>The demon of Tinkhya</h2> Tundikhel is steeped in folklore in which demons and deities once inhabited its open spaces <figure><img width="1500" height="983" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd2939c7e80680e0d302bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One of the more popular stories about Tundikhel begin in the monastery in Itumbaha.Keshchandra came from an affluent family, but was addicted to gambling. Over time he frittered away his posessions until he had no money even to buy food. He went to his sister’s home in Bhagawan Bahal where his sister gave him food in a plate made of solid gold.After eating the food, he gambles away the golden plate. A few days later he goes to his sister’s house again. This time she serves him food in silverware. Keshchandra once again gambles it away.The next time he goes to his sister, she serves him food on the floor. Humiliated and chastised, Keshchandra picks up the food food in a piece of cloth and goes on a pilgrimage to Gosaikunda.A few days into his journey, he becomes hungry and opens the cloth bundle. But the food is mouldy and he goes to sleep on an empty stomach. While Keshchandra is asleep, birds feast on the food. A voice comes from the heavens, ordering the birds to compensate Keshchandra for the food. <figure><img width="1500" height="1000" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100124/63bfd2989c7e80680e0d302cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The birds offer him droppings which turn into gold flakes. The shrewd Keshchandra pleads with Gurumapa to help him take the gold home, calling the demon his paju (mother’s brother).After much persuasion Gurumapa agrees, but on one condition, Keshchandra must feed him. Keshchandra permits him to eat any child in Kathmandu who cries. The two make their way to Itumbaha, where Gurumapa lived on the top floor of the northern wing of the monastery complex.Gurumapa proceeded to eat disobedient children, terrorising Kathmandu. Mothers would warn their children that if they were disobedient and cried, the Gurumapa would gobble them up.Soon, the demon had devoured most of the children in the town. Keshchandra was not bothered, until one day his own son cried and Gurumapa ate him up as well.Bereft with grief Keshchandra banishes Gurumapa to the open fields of Tinkhya, present day Tundikhel, in return for a feast of rice and buffalo meat.It is said that Gurumapa lived under the yaka sima, the lone tree in Tundikhel. And to this day, every year, in keeping with the deal made in Kathmandu's mythical past, a feast of rice and meat is laid out for him.As told by Amrit Man Shakya, priest of Keshchandrakrit Paarawat Mahavihar.

Sahina Shrestha

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

Giving Tundikhel back to the people

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

You do not have to be a climate expert or atmospheric pandit to claim that Nepal is not pulling its weight on the grand narratives of the Anthropocene. As a heavily populated ‘country-on-an-incline’ from the Tarai to the Himalaya, Nepal is a thermometer of global warming.&nbsp; Its people are human witnesses to environmental and climate breakdown, but remain mute observers to the unfolding crises. Nepal should be leading the pack at the COP30 climate conference in Belém, backed by science and lived experience. But it is doubtful that two of the most crucial climate-related subjects central to the culture, economies and human wellbeing in the Himalaya and South Asia will be discussed at the summit that started this week in Brazil.&nbsp; The first topic that should be raised at COP is Black Carbon or the South Asian Brown Cloud, made up of tiny suspended particles in the air. This is not just a transboundary health hazard, there is now enough science to make the case that Himalayan snowmelt is accelerated significantly by the albedo effect that makes ice melt faster because of reduced reflectivity. But Kathmandu has not been able to make governments near and far listen. In 2014, I wrote a short piece published in Outlook magazine explaining why India’s Prime Minister Modi looking northward from a SAARC Summit retreat in Dhulikhel was unable to see the Jugal Himal range barely 30km away. His view was obscured by the pollution layer arriving from as far away as Lahore with substantial contribution from the Delhi region. That summit itself was an opportunity for Nepal to inform the Indian and Pakistani prime ministers that much of the haze, smog, dust and soot that settles on our slopes was generated in Sindh, Punjab, Punjab, Haryana, Western UP and Delhi NCR, carried by prevailing westerly winds up to the Himalaya. The forest fires within Nepal as well as Kathmandu Valley’s pollution contribute to the haze, but the shroud that suffocates the region through autumn, winter and spring is mostly transnational. Last year, these anthropogenic fine aerosols actually curled over the Bay of Bengal and invaded the airspace of Sri Lanka and Maldives.&nbsp; Even as the soot particles accelerate glacial melt and impact everything from infrastructure to public health, the most visible effect is on tourism. Nepal’s economic future is based on tourism, and much of this relies on being able to see the snow mountains. Why should travellers go to Pokhara if they cannot see the Annapurnas?&nbsp; Hoteliers in Nagarkot have started a campaign: ‘Visit Nagarkot 2025: More than Sunrise and Sunset’. While clever, the slogan is a response to the acclaimed Himalayan vista from Everest to the Annapurnas from the hill station, now obscured by the brown curtain of haze for most of the year. As the bellwether country of South Asia when it comes to the climate crisis, Nepal must build diplomatic confidence to reach out to the governments of Pakistan and India even in their present state of antagonism. Kathmandu must launch ‘haze diplomacy’ for its own sake and for the region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="695" loading="lazy" alt="permafrost"> </figure>  IMPERMANENT FROST&nbsp; Permafrost is understood mostly as a phenomenon of the Arctic, Antarctica, Siberia and Alaska. Mountains elsewhere did not figure, though it was natural for the ground to freeze all year round at high altitudes.&nbsp; In the Himalaya, besides the snowfields and glaciers, frozen moisture binds rocks and stabilises slopes. But global warming is melting the permafrost that used to cement mountain flanks, including boulders, sand and scree slopes. Some of the debris (गेग्रान) did tumble down, but much of it remained entombed on high, thanks to permafrost. Pokhara Valley and the Seti River reaching all the way up to the base of the Annapurnas, is the best place to observe this dance of geology between gravity and the mountain range. Rubble from the collapse about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">700 years ago of paleo-Annapurna IV </a>created the sediment field on which Pokhara is situated today. However, much of the debris from the crumbled mountain is still lodged up on and around Annapurna IV, but the binding is loosening with the warming earth. A <a href="https://www.icimod.org/event/analysing-permafrost-in-the-hindu-kush-himalaya-using-open-access-tools/">2024 report by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a> indicates that global warming is thawing the permafrost across High Asia. Among the unintended consequences of climate breakdown is that mountains and moraines are collapsing, with <a href="https://www.icimod.org/press-release/everest-region-a-hotspot-of-cryosphere-linked-hazards-icimods-new-study-on-nepals-2024-thame-flood-confirms/">cascading impact</a> that includes glacial lake outburst floods, reduced groundwater recharge as well as winter flow in the Ganga, Indus and Brahmaputra. No one has calculated the total volume of rubble locked in by permafrost across the Himalaya. Despite the increased risk, there is accelerated construction of highways, hydropower projects, housing and tourism infrastructure across the Himalaya. While the COP conferences discuss rising oceans and receding glaciers (without doing much about it), Himalayan permafrost has been melting unremarked. In their path-breaking September 2024 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">article in Nepali Times</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and Alton C Byers argued that the extreme events of the past few years that led to mountain and moraine collapses, unleashing destructive debris flows downstream, were the result of melting permafrost. Haeberli and Byers suggest that the avalanches and floods including those of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti (2012)</a>, <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/understanding-the-chamoli-flood-cause-process-impacts-and-context-of-rapid-infrastructure-development/">Chamoli (2021)</a>, Birendra Tal (2023), <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2772883825000251">Sikkim (2023)</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">Thame (2024)</a>, <a href="https://himat.org/publication/byers-rockfall-induced-2019/">Barun (2017)</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">Melamchi (2021)</a> were the result of the thawing of frozen ground. They say that the collapse of the lateral moraine on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak glacial lake</a> in Sikkim on 4 October 2023 that swept away more than 100 people, destroyed the $1 billion Chungthang Dam as well as houses, roads and farms far downstream, was also caused by cloudburst on a lateral moraine that had lost its permafrost adhesive. There will be permafrost sceptics, as there have been climate change deniers. But it is time to wake up to the reality that the Himalayan peaks are no longer the immutable sentinels as regarded by humanity since prehistoric times.&nbsp; Modern society has pumped so much greenhouse gas into the atmosphere that now even the mountains are giving up. And we have not even begun to think about the bacteria and viruses locked away in the permafrost up the slope.&nbsp; Loss of permafrost adds to the cumulative impact of climate breakdown, including extreme weather events, drought and cloudbursts, heat waves in the plains affecting lives and livelihoods, creating mass migration, social unrest, and upending politics and geopolitics. The government and polity of Nepal have a duty to themselves and the larger humanity to wake up to the climate breakdown. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conclave organised by the Government in May failed to emerge as a pulpit for global warming and associated ills. Our political class, bureaucracy and academia should make up for lost opportunities to rise to the occasion and take the lead.&nbsp; Kanak Mani Dixit is writer, commentator and founding editor of Himal Southasian.

underground-parking

Giving Tundikhel back to the people

Party Time

The periphery cannot hold

Chronic instability in the Madhes

Climate of tragedy and apathy