The past year will go down in history as one great global disaster with the coronavirus pandemic leading the pack of calamities from fires to floods that have left their stamp on a world sadly lacking in informed and enlightened leadership. It was therefore great pleasure to escape from Kathmandu in search of clean air and adventure in the wilderness of West Nepal.Road works leaving the capital and between Narayanghat and Butwal meant that a journey that I normally reckon to take seven hours, instead took nine and could have been worse if we had not had a fairly clear run, over the Chure Pahar at Daunne. To be fair to the Department of Roads, the work in progress will improve matters greatly in the long term and the absence of foreign tourists has provided an opportunity to do so with less disruption than might otherwise be the case. Hotels, meanwhile, are taking the opportunity to work on upgrades that will, hopefully make for a better future. We spent the night at an old favourite, Club de Novo, which is currently undergoing renovation.Life looked up as we continued to head West along the Mahendra Highway, making for <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/its-a-jungle-out-there/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bardia National Park</a>. We made good time and, on a whim, stopped at the headquarters of Banke National Park in search of information on this, the newest of Nepal’s National Parks.Covering an area of 550 square kilometers, Banke adjoins Bardia National Park to the West and the two are connected through a system of wildlife corridors comprising community and national forests to Suhelwa and Katarniaghat Wildlife Sanctuaries in neighbouring India. In its entirety, it forms one vast protected area for which both governments deserve credit. The Chief Warden, Shyam Kumar Saha, and his staff were most helpful and offered to provide a Game Scout as guide, should we wish to visit the Park on our return.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7769c7e80680e092ddfjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="924"/><figcaption>Golden Mahseer, Babai Bridge, Bardia National Park</figcaption></figure>We continued to Bardia, with a brief stop at the Babai Bridge to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepalis-go-salmon-fishing-in-kamchatka/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">look at the fish</a> and crocodiles in the pool below the barrage. We stayed at Bardia Jungle Cottage, just outside the Park gates at Thakurdwara and enjoyed a pleasant day exploring the Park’s buffer zones and taking note of the changes in progress since my last visit eighteen months ago.From Bardia we progressed westwards, visiting the garden built as a memorial to the late King Mahendra at Tikapur, also popularly known as Tikapur Park. The park has a historical connection to King Mahendra, who was taken ill there whilst on a hunting trip, and is now sanctified in the form of a beautiful, well- maintained lush garden.There is also a viewing platform adjoining the Park, where, in the past, I have observed Gangetic dolphins frolicking in the Mohana River. On this visit, the river was full and the current too strong for the dolphins to show themselves, but with luck, the waters may subside and return to their past tranquil state and we may once again be able to enjoy the company of these beautiful creatures.Our next stop was at Ghodaghodi Tal, a Ramsar listed wetland comprising a series of interconnected lakes that provide habitat for many species of both resident and migrant waterfowl. The small temple on the site has now expanded into a religious school and the increased human activity seems to have driven many of the birds away from the new view tower constructed for the purpose of watching them.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7799c7e80680e092de0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="3086"><figcaption>Tikapur Park, Kailali</figcaption></figure>There is also a gate nowadays in front of the lake and a ticket counter where one has to buy a ticket in order to see the site. Legend has it that a hermit cursed the Hindu god, Shiva and goddess Parvati and turned them into horses, leaving them to encircle the lake, and so a temple dedicated to them appears by the lake.Another story relates how, a great flood once inundated several villages in the area. The raja sent out his trusted advisor mounted on his best Ghoda stallion to investigate. They never returned. The raja then sent another of his men mounted on his best Ghodi mare to find out what had happened. They too, never returned. And that is how the lake came to receive its name. It is said that, on still nights, one can still hear the sounds of the ghosts of the villagers who were drowned in the flood. I have never stayed to test this story out!<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd77c9c7e80680e092de1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="864" height="399"><figcaption>Godaghodi Tal</figcaption></figure>Three kilometers East of Mahendranagar, we stopped to check in to Suda Farm Sanctum, a very pleasant little hotel with a garden and fish pond that attracted several species of waterbirds. In the evening we drove to the gate of Suklaphanta National Park to buy tickets for the next morning. The staff on duty seemed a little reluctant to sell us the tickets, saying that we would not be able to get a refund if our plans changed – which they very nearly did.The next morning, after an early breakfast we drove out onto the Highway only to be stopped immediately by the police who informed us that the road was closed due to a bundh! After explaining our plans they very kindly provided us with an escort to the Park gates, where we were met by our guide for the day, Mahananda Joshi. Once inside the Park, we were in a different world. Away from burning tyres and shouting mobs, we were able to enjoy the peace and quiet of the jungle, the only sounds being bird calls and the occasional alarm of a the Chital deer.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd77e9c7e80680e092de2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="932"><figcaption>Hikmat Bhist’s former Silent Safari campsite, Suklaphanta National Park</figcaption></figure>A visit to Hikmat Bhist’s former camp site reminded me of the many pleasant evenings spent in that place listening to Hikmat’s tales of the past around a blazing fire, cupping our glasses while food would be prepared by chef Mangal, who we sadly lost Mangal to a tiger attack. I remembered, too, Peter Byrne, who had been given permission by Prince Basundhara to hunt in the forests of West Nepal with his high paying clients and who did much to contribute to the development of the Park. Many of the friends with whom I enjoyed Hikmat’s hospitality have now passed on, as has Hikmat himself, but they will always be remembered in that very special place.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7829c7e80680e092de3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1498" height="928"><figcaption>Barasingha, Suklaphanta National Park</figcaption></figure>We pressed on to the grass plains that give the Park its name and enjoyed the sight of herds of not only Barasingha (Swamp deer), for which <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-villages-learn-to-cope-with-climate-crisis/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Suklaphanta</a> is famous, but also Laguna (Hog deer), Chital (Spotted deer), Ratuwa (Barking deer) and the occasional Bandel Wild boar. We drove to boundary pillar 26, that marks Nepal’s border with India.I recall that Hikmat had once asked me to come to photograph squatters who were encroaching on the Park from the Indian side. He wanted evidence to produce to the concerned authorities. Whether or not my photographs had any effect I have no idea, but the squatters are now gone and the Indian side is also protected as the Philibit Tiger Reserve.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7859c7e80680e092de4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="937"><figcaption>Boundary Pillar, Nepal – India border, Suklaphanta National Park</figcaption></figure>On our return to Suda Farm through the bazaar, we could see signs of the protests that had taken place during the day. The highway was still blocked in one place, but a short detour took us around this and back to the sanctuary of the hotel.The following day, we started our return journey by driving to Nepalgunj, where we spent a very comfortable three nights’ stay at the new Soaltee Westend Premier Hotel. The next day, we decided to go exploring East of Nepalgunj, where the Rapti River disgorges itself into India, in search of ruins from the 4th Century BC. We did not find any ruins, but did stumble across Kanchanpur Forest, a beautiful patch of greenery amidst picturesque villages. We returned early to the hotel to enjoy a sauna and a plunge in the very cold swimming pool.The next morning we left after an early breakfast and drove to the Kohalpur office of Banke National Park. There we purchased our tickets, samosas and pakoras before continuing to Obari, the Park Headquarters, where we picked up Game Scout, Gopal Chand, who was to be our guide for the day. He proved to be an excellent guide and was very knowledgeable about the Park and related conservation issues. Infrastructure is still a work in progress, but there were sufficient roads to cover a lot of ground and appreciate the beauty of this lovely wildlife sanctuary.We did not see many mammals, but mainly monkeys (Rhesus macaque and Grey Langur) and deer and quite a variety of birds and came across fresh leopard tracks on a river bank. What animals we did see had not yet become accustomed to seeing vehicles and fled at our approach, but this will change over time and the park looks set to become one of the finest wildlife tourism destinations in Nepal. There are a number of waterholes under construction and several machan towers have been built throughout the area. We thoroughly enjoyed our day out.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7889c7e80680e092de5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="729"><figcaption>Banke National Park</figcaption></figure>Next morning we enjoyed a slightly later breakfast before checking out of the hotel and heading for Butwal. We stayed at D’Arcy’s Hotel, next to the bus park, but were given a quiet room at the back where we were able to spend an undisturbed night after a pizza dinner at the appropriately named, Lavish Lounge.In order to avoid the highway construction works, we decided to drive South to Bhairahawa and take the Postal Road via Parasi to Bardaghat, just short of Daunne. This also allowed us to visit Ramagrama, the site of the only undisturbed <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/buddhist-relics-in-western-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Buddha relic</a> stupa. The other seven stupas where the ashes of Gautam Buddha were interred after his Mahaparinirvana and cremation, all in India, were opened by the Emperor Ashoka in the 3rd Century BC to coincide with the spread of Buddhism to countries such as Sri Lanka and Thailand.According to folklore, when Ashoka went to open the stupa at Ramagrama, he was prevented from doing so by a Nag cobra that was protecting the site. It is only relatively recently that the site has started to be investigated by the Department of Archaeology and it receives few visitors. A raised wooden walkway has been placed around the stupa in an attempt to prevent people from walking on the remains.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd78b9c7e80680e092de6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="729"><figcaption>Ramagrama Relic Stupa, Nawalparasi</figcaption></figure>We were fortunate to have a relatively clear run over the hills at Daunne and arrived in Narayanghat just after midday and continued on to Jagatpur Lodge, where we had reserved accommodation. This was my third visit to Jagatpur and only reconfirmed my opinion that it is the finest wildlife lodge in Nepal. Our accommodation was in a spacious safari tent, complete with air conditioning and bathroom with hot and cold running water and a deck overlooking the watercourse in front of the lodge. This pool is a remnant of the former course of the Rapti River, which now runs further to the South, but gives onto community forest that is the habitat of many wild animals.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd78e9c7e80680e092de7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="946"><figcaption>The view in front of Jagatpur Lodge</figcaption></figure>Hog Deer (Laguna) were an almost constant presence at the water, together with resident mugger crocodile, as well as many species of waterbirds. We also saw Chital, Ratuwa and on our last evening, a female rhino with a calf, come down to drink water. A member of the lodge staff once also saw a tiger right in front of the lodge. I have been most impressed, on recent visits to Jagatpur, with the network of community forests that form a buffer zone bordering the core National Park. Owned and managed by the local communities, from which they derive revenue, one’s chances of spotting many species are as good nowadays in the community forests as in the park itself.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7929c7e80680e092de8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="821"><figcaption>Dhurbe, the wild bull elephant</figcaption></figure>Our stay at Jagatpur was not planned in advance, but a last minute reaction to an announcement of political rallies across the country. Instead, we were able to enjoy a full morning in Chitwan National Park with guide Saran Darai and driver Resham, both of whom were excellent. Here, we were able to add Sambar to the list of deer species we encountered on our journey and were entertained by many dancing peacocks as a backdrop, while a rhino crossed the road. I also had my first wild elephant encounter in Chitwan in the form of Dhurbe, a wild bull, so named because he had killed a Nepal Army soldier of that name at a nearby outpost. The outpost is now also known as Dhurbe Post in memory of the unfortunate soldier.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110111148/636cd7949c7e80680e092de9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="729"><figcaption>Rhino crossing the road with Peacock dancing behind, Chitwan National ParkFdhur</figcaption></figure>After a second night in the comfort of our luxury tent, it was time to head back to Kathmandu. We had had a good time and were back home in the early afternoon, in time for a cup of tea.

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On the road in West Nepal

<figure><img width="1500" height="1125" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8ab19c7e80680e06b255jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Sodasha Higher Secondary School in western Nepal is undergoing retrofitting as an earthquake preparedness model for future quakes in the region. Photo: NSET</figcaption></figure>With the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/western-nepal-potential-covid-19-outbreak/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">detection of three new COVID-19 cases</a> in Kailali district on Saturday, one of them the country’s first case of community transmission, western Nepal could be the epicentre for two disasters: a coronavirus hot spot, and a ticking time bomb for a mega-earthquake.This is not scare-mongering. Public health experts say western Nepal’s rudimentary healthcare system will be overwhelmed by a possible COVID-19 outbreak because at least 120,000 Nepali workers have returned from India without screening before both countries went into lockdown.   The government is extending rapid diagnostic testing to hospitals in Nepalganj, Dhangadi, Surkhet and Dadeldhura and there may be a surge in positive cases in the days ahead.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/returnees-may-be-taking-coronavirus-to-rural-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Returnees maybe taking coronavirus to rural Nepal</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel and Sonia Awale<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rebuilding-five-years-after-2015-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Rebuilding five years after 2015 quake</a>, Alisha SijapatiHowever, there is another Damocle’s Sword that has been hanging over the region even before novel coronavirus – the likelihood of a catastrophic mega-earthquake. As Nepal marks the fifth anniversary of its 2015 earthquake, seismologists have warned that an even bigger megaquake is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8ab39c7e80680e06b256jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="252" height="128">The region between Pokhara and Nepal’s western border with India has not had a major earthquake since 1505 when an estimated 8.9M temblor killed one third of Kathmandu Valley’s population including the king, devastated north India, and created the debris fan from a cataclysmic flood on which Pokhara city is situated today.Speaking with Nepali Times, seismologist <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/aint-seen-nothing-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Roger Bilham warned</a> five years ago that the 2015 was not the Big One. He said the seismic gap in western Nepal had accumulated tremendous tectonic energy that had not been released for 500 years, and an earthquake was long overdue.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Past disasters foretold</a>, Om Astha Rai<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/editorial/aint-seen-nothing-yet/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ain't seen nothing yet</a>, Editorial“There’s a plenty of stress stored for an earthquake above 8 magnitude in western Nepal, and it could kill at least 100,000 people in Nepal alone,” says Surya Narayan Shrestha of the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET). “But despite being the most at risk, western Nepal is less prepared and has relatively low awareness about earthquake safety, and this doubles its vulnerability.”In two weeks, Nepal will mark the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/rebuilding-five-years-after-2015-quake/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">fifth anniversary of the 25 April 2015 earthquake</a> yet neither the government nor the people seem to have learnt the lesson. Western Nepal, in particular, is ill-equipped to handle another major earthquake. <img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8ab49c7e80680e06b257jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figure><img width="640" height="360" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8ab79c7e80680e06b258jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A major earthquake of greater than An 8M quake in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/past-disasters-foretold/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">western Nepal</a> would be felt even more strongly in Kathmandu Valley than the 7.8M disaster five years ago. Still, disaster preparedness experts say attention should now turn from the 14 districts in Central Nepal affected in 2015 to western Nepal.Before the COVID-19 lockdown, Nepal had begun to retrofit 2,200 classrooms in around 200 schools in four western districts Bardia, Surkhet, Jumla and Achham to be completed in four years with funding support of DFID UKAID under the Nepal Safer Schools Project (NSSP). NSSP is being implemented by a consortium led by Crown Agents together with NSET, Save the Children and Arup International and is aligned with and contribute to the Government of Nepal’s School Sector Development Plan (2016-2023) which includes a focus on School Safety and Disaster Risk Reduction. Prior to 2015, NSET had similarly retrofitted around 300 schools in Kathmandu Valley and surrounding areas which survived the earthquake and served as emergency shelters. However, <a style="letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/earthquake-an-opportunity-to-rebuilt-education-system-not-just-fallen-schools,2336" target="_blank" rel="noopener">nearly 8,000 schools were completely destroyed</a> in 2015, and colossal loss of lives was averted only because the earthquake struck on a Saturday.<a style="font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/quake-was-a-learning-experience-for-nepals-schools/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quake was a learning experience for Nepal's schools</a>, Prakriti Kandel“We selected the schools in western based on vulnerability, potential for replication, availability of masons and enthusiasm of the school management committee,” adds Shrestha. “Next step is to scale this up and this means more investment, technical support and massive mobilisation of human resources.”Hospitals in western Nepal at the moment are all on red alert for a possible outbreak of COVID-19 in the region and healthcare workers are keenly aware of shortages of live-saving medical equipment such as test kits, ventilators, ICU beds, oxygen and personal protective gear. In an event of a major earthquake, this situation will be even worse because the hospital buildings themselves may be damaged.Three components within a healthcare facility determine if a hospital will be functional during an earthquake: seismic resistance of the building, state of power supply and medical equipment, and an emergency preparedness system with health workers trained for mass casualties.Dadeldhura hospital has been identified as a disaster management hub in Far West Nepal with satellite facilities in other district hospitals.“For the kind of earthquake projected here, none of us is prepared, western Nepal the least of all. We might have big hospitals in city centres but can the buildings withstand the quake is the real question,” says Bikash Gauchan of Bayalpata hospital in Achham.Few weeks before the earthquake struck in 2015, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Bayalpata hospital had undergone reconstruction</a> to turn the institution into an eco-friendly, earthquake resistant facility. A disaster management protocol was also drawn up for triage in its emergency, as well as in and out patient buildings.Gauchan says hospitals in the Far West have to be prepared for multiple disasters: “We can’t overhaul our system every time a disaster strikes, be it the coronavirus or an earthquake. We need a standard operating protocol based on concrete national guidelines.”Back in 2003, Nepal government in collaboration with WHO had conduced earthquake vulnerability assessment of 15 major hospitals across the country that recommended they all be retrofitted. More than 15 years later, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/preparedness-saves-lives,2264" target="_blank" rel="noopener">except from minor strengthening of health clinics</a>, nothing has been done.Hope now rests on the newly formed National Risk Reduction and Disaster Management Authority (DMA) which will replace the National Reconstruction Authority set up after 2015. Experts hope the focus will now shift to strengthening infrastructure of public buildings, transmission lines, telecommunication, sewage and water supply.Says Surya Narayan Shrestha at NSET: “We spent the last fives years mostly in the reconstruction of residential building and heritage sites in Central Nepal. Our priority now is on reinforcing infrastructure and ensuring essential services are better equipped to survive the next big one.” <h2>Preparing to be prepared</h2> <img width="1754" height="1146" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110912118/636b8aba9c7e80680e06b259jpeg.jpg" alt="">Nepal was just beginning preparations for risk reduction and management of disasters like earthquakes, floods, landslides and epidemics when the 2015 earthquake struck. This year, the Disaster Management Authority (DMA) has been formed which has listed 22 different kinds of disasters Nepalis are exposed to.The winter of 2017 saw 48 fatalities in a cold wave in the Tarai. Two years later, no one died in a similar cold wave. The Home Ministry’s Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Working Committee is credited with such pre-preparedness for blizzards, cold and heat waves, and monsoon floods.An average of 700 people die every year in Nepal due to disasters, most of these are weather related. The climate crisis is exacerbating extreme rainfall events, and the ministry has drawn up a Monsoon Emergency Workplan to address increased frequency and intensity fo floods.“We have to be prepared, and preparation is most effective when it is at the local level since they are the first responders,” says Anil Pokhrel of the DMA. With the help of the British aid agency DfID and the world Food Programme (WFP) the government is setting up Humanitarian Staging Areas in all seven provinces for stockpiling food and relief material for disasters. The central station was in operation at Kathmandu airport during the 2015 earthquake.New staging areas  in Dhangadi and Nepalganj were inaugurated by British Ambassador Nicola Pollitt and WFP’s Pippa Bradford recently (pictured above). Western Nepal is important because of the special seismic risk there. Each staging area can address the emergency needs of up to 70,000 people at a time. The staging areas house tents,  health and sanitation kits, water purifying equipment, fuel storage, satellite phones, search and rescue equipment and pre-positioned water supply.Proximity to the airport allows the relief material to be helicoptered out to the affected areas, and also to be resupplied from Kathmandu, quickly.Laxmi Basnet in Dhangadi

Sonia Awale

Epicentre of two disasters in West Nepal

We often see ourselves reflected in the other. For someone who grew up in Kathmandu Valley in the eighties and nineties, this maxim comes alive with an even greater force. Nepal’s media ecosystem was dismal, the school curriculum was narrow and did not provide opportunities for creative expression. Perhaps that is why I became obsessed with MTV videos and Bollywood films. I saw my developing self reflected in these story-lines and razzmatazz. When the media and education system do not engage the public and reflect myriad interests, aspirations and lifestyles of the population, citizens get detached and disconnected from their roots. I left for America for further studies, and was somewhat determined to never return to Nepal. It was a country full of potholes and black-outs. But foreigners have been fascinated with our country for decades. In the early 19th century, Francis Buchanan-Hamilton led a pioneering expedition and documented more than a thousand species of plants native to the region. Almost a century later, in 1905, Frenchman Sylvan Levi published ‘the first attempt to produce a comprehensive study of Nepal’, drawing on not just indigenous but available Chinese and European sources as well. After Nepal opened up in the 1950s, different kinds of foreigners have traveled here -- most notably, cold-war era spies disguised as diplomats, and later came the hippies. I returned to Nepal in 2013 and was primarily struck by two major demographics - the artists and the expats. Energised by the recent revolution, the creatives were making vibrant, powerful works. The expats, on the other hand, demonstrated a different way to navigate life in Kathmandu Valley. These two groups of people re-introduced Nepal to me and I began seeing my country and my hometown with a renewed perspective. Which is why one particular image from Giovanna Caruso’s ongoing show at the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank">Kalā</a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thekalasalon/?hl=en" target="_blank"> Salon</a> curated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/facades-and-flowers-from-nepal-to-italy" target="_blank">Sophia L Pandé</a> instantly caught my attention -- rather, it called out to me, as if it was composed for me, framing a key moment from my own life. Its title is, coincidentally, 2013. Like most of her other works, the pen-and-ink drawing is punctuated by an explosion of watercolour: a woman standing confidently in front of a Newa-style house, a leg arched up, as if she is fixing a strap around an ankle before stepping out on an adventure. The watercolour depicts a rainbow streaming out of a pot through a second-floor window. The rest of the details are rendered in realism – clusters of garlic and onion hanging to dry from the rafters, and further down a stack of corn. There are towels drying, even an old water pump.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251201121216_f440de5b5402fe0877dc46d94f41647bd46b00035b61241d46fc9f7ffbd87d0f" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="3024" loading="lazy" alt="art review Kala Salon"> </figure>  When I walked over to this artwork with Caruso, she chuckled, “Ah, this work is a celebration of my 30 years in Nepal.” It was while trying to calm a restless group of students during her teaching days in Italy that Caruso first came across an iconic image of Kathmandu Darbar Square. She had found an old box of slides and while projecting images from the Himalaya to engage her students, the artist was determined to travel to Nepal. The first flat she rented was close to the square and the view from her rooftop was the same as the one she had encountered inside her classroom. She has been traveling to Nepal every year since. Some of her favourite drawings depict Khokana in morning fog. From 1993-2006, she drew murals at Ram Mandir and Pashupatinath, asking sadhus to guide her and correct her depictions. Caruso received a classical education, which means she was trained to focus on perspective and geometry while capturing mainly portraits and still lives. She is influenced by M C Escher and his explorations of mathematics and symmetry. No wonder she finds the Darbar Square architecture so compelling. She also names as inspiration Gustave Dore, whose style is different from Escher’s and I can see how she has fused these influences in her body of work: Escher’s austerity complimented and slightly dislodged by Dore’s comics and caricatures. “Before starting, the painting needs to be complete in my mind,” she explains as we pass a series of portraits titled Saraswati, Lakshmi, Kali Dancing, and Durga dominated by a roaring tiger. “These are all real people, I ask my friends and family members to sit for me.” The Kali in the drawing has the artist’s fiery copper red hair and she is dancing, surrounded by various men with flowing hair. The artist seems to have experimented here, drawing the revelers from above, and indulging in playful abandon. Depictions of Nepal are often in danger of being exoticised. But Caruso is familiar with her subjects, knows our alleys and temples intimately. Her colours and compositions are passionate and dense. In an essay, Anirudh S Chari writes the artist’s work is splashed with rapturous energy and most drawings have a carnivalesque element. ‘Kali Dancing’ illustrates this idea perfectly in that she has turned Kali’s usual fearsome portrayal on its head by depicting and embracing another feminine principle - the capacity to celebrate and create joy. Apart from drawing inspiration from Hindu goddesses and Nepal’s multi-colored rituals, Caruso has also drawn the Sumerian Ianna and Lillith and the Egyptian Nut. She enjoys drawing Nataraja, and says it is because “Shiva is a good husband”. We stand another painting titled 100 Days a Lion. “There is a saying in Italian, Better one day as a lion than a hundred days as a sheep, but I thought why not 100 Days a Lion?” This sentiment captures this nomadic artist’s spirit spanning four decades, in which she has captured urban energy as well as the sacred imagery of ‘life diaries on canvas’. From Venezia to Kathmandu and Journeys In Between Giovanna Caruso The Kalā Salon Chhaya Centre Mall, Thamel Till 12 December 10am- 8pm

Looking at Nepal from Venice

The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

Too little snow, too much rain

Shantanu Dhakal wakes up to a cold misty dawn, dons his college uniform and fastens his tie, tightening it carefully so as not to dislodge the tracheostomy tube protruding from his throat.
Gingerly, he brushes his teeth, mindful not to hurt the wound on his left cheek, where a bullet tore through during the GenZ protests on 8 September in the highway town of Itahari in eastern Nepal.&nbsp;
Dhakal, 18, came home from college that day three months ago and then took the bus to Itahari to join some friends who were protesting in front of the sub-metropolitan city office. It was mid-afternoon, and the crowd was chanting anti-corruption slogans and holding up placards.
Like most young Nepalis, Dhakal and his friends had been angered by videos on social media of the offspring of Nepal’s rich and powerful flaunting their lavish lifestyles.&nbsp;
"That was the trigger for me to join the protest, it opened my eyes to just how widespread nepotism and corruption was," Dhakal told Nepali Times.&nbsp;
The police arrested a few students, angering the crowd even more. They massed at the gate of a nearby police station to demand their friends be released. &nbsp;
Dhakal was standing across the street from the police station when the first shots rang out. The crowd scattered. As he ran for cover, there was a searing pain in his left jaw. Blood was streaming and it took some time for him to realise he had been shot.&nbsp;
“I was bleeding profusely and couldn’t speak. My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears,” Dhakal recalls. “I collected myself and continued to run, fearing that I would be shot a second time.”
Dhakal collapsed some distance away, and a fellow protestor took him to a nearby hospital, where doctors bandaged his jaw. He was referred to Birat Medical Teaching Hospital, where surgeons immediately performed an emergency operation. &nbsp;
The bullet had torn through his left jaw, shattering the bone, teeth, and soft tissue. Blood had rushed into his throat, obstructing the airway so doctors first performed a tracheostomy, installing a tube in his throat to help him keep breathing. A week later, the doctors reconstructed his jaw with metallic plates, grafting skin from his chest and transplanting it to the lower left side of his face.&nbsp;
Dhakal spent three weeks in hospital before being discharged. But the relief of being home was marred by disturbing thoughts. He says, “Just sitting there doing nothing began to take a toll on my mental health.” &nbsp;
Since he was always interested in content creation and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@docsbyshantanu">producing short documentaries</a>, he decided to document online his near-death experience and post-protest life.&nbsp;
Shantanu Dhakal’s Instagram and TikTok <a href="https://www.instagram.com/shantanu__dhakal/">posts are simple, short videos</a> every other day about his treatment process, dressing his wound and cleaning his tracheostomy tube, attending events with others injured during the protests, and scenes from everyday life in his family farm.&nbsp;
The comment section has Nepalis and people from around the world reaching out to ask how he is doing and keeping his spirits up. Dhakal now has a caring social media community, and he uses the platforms to keep in touch with other injured protestors across the country.&nbsp;
Life is returning to a new normal. This week, he returned to college to resume classes after more than two months and is making up for lost time. He has adjusted to speaking and eating with the tube, although the pain never quite goes away.&nbsp;
“I can eat mostly fine, but it is still difficult to speak,” he says. Soon, he will go to hospital for his fortnightly follow-up, and doctors will determine when his tracheostomy tube can be removed.
Like other young Nepalis, Dhakal is now even more politically engaged and actively reads the news of the interim government installed after the GenZ protests.&nbsp;
With the 5 March elections only three months away, young Nepalis like Dhakal hope that the elections will throw out the old and bring in the new. He is among the more than 800,000 new voters who have registered.&nbsp;
“The most important thing is that we have stable government,” he says. “As far as candidates go, an ideal one for me would be a person who prioritises health and education. But if the candidates in my constituency are not up to mark, I may not vote.”
Dhakal along with other injured protesters and relatives of those killed met &nbsp;Energy Minister Kulman Ghising, who has launched his own Ujyalo Nepal Party, and he is cautiously optimistic about the work of the current leadership. &nbsp;
It is a different story in Kathmandu, where Prime Minister Sushila Karki is struggling to manage the expectations of various youth collectives while trying to convince the old parties to participate in elections.&nbsp;
While the UML and NC are actively trying to delegitimise Karki’s government as they prepare to hold their respective general conventions, they are also preparing to give out tickets for elections.&nbsp;
Self-proclaimed GenZ leaders who used Discord to elect Karki prime minister are putting up their own conditions for the polls, even demanding her resignation for failing to meet their demands. This is in sharp contrast to the feelings of many of those injured during the protests who want elections so the nation can heal, and move on.

A new normal

It is quite a feat for just two actors on a darkened stage to hold an audience spellbound for more than one hour. Yet, ‘के? Us.’ at Kausi Theatre does just that. It is a thought-provoking but baffling work that leaves the audience questioning reality, the recurring metaphors in this intriguing and powerful dark comedy haunting us for days afterwards.&nbsp; The unsettling sound of deep breathing mingles with percussive drumming and a driving guitar that pulsates amidst a red glow, dimly illuminating shadowy structures charred by fire. A door leads to what is later revealed to be the ancestral home of two brothers which is ‘under renovation’. One of the brothers Ashim (Bijaya Tamrakar) lives in Nepal caring for a supposedly comatose mother who is only depicted by a tree draped with red LED lights that circulate arterial blood corpuscles. Visiting him is a long-lost brother Aaryan (Eelum Dixit) who has returned (deported?) from America.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251202071248_d3050fcd38e1ba471ea48e18fde6a8393a086a5b3afeef71eda190f3e01366e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The stage is littered with scattered paper trash, a run-down motorcycle chassis, a tattered sofa, and beat-up table and chairs. The stage is set for a sinister plot. Are the characters to be punished in perdition?&nbsp; It does not take long for the audience to grasp that this is an apocalyptic Nepal that, following absurdist traditions, could exist at any time in the future or the present day <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/election-vs-escalation">post-GenZ protest state</a>. Ashim and Aaryan Adhikari have reunited after 15 years. Ashim, the younger brother, has been burdened with the responsibility of taking care of their brain-dead mother. Aaryan, returns after having migrated to the US, where he married, had children, divorced, and lost everything. He has been at “minus 20 and is now back to zero”.&nbsp; The brothers have intense back-and-forths that expose their cynicism, the conversation tangentially alluding to Nepal’s unstable political landscape, migration, an economy in shambles, aging population, alcoholism and other mental health issues. Even the sibling argument about the relative merits of momos and burgers seems metaphorical. The stagecraft uses lighting and sound effects brilliantly, transporting the audience to a surreal world in which Tamrakar and Dixit improvise their lines — no two shows are exactly the same, although the overall plotline has continuity.&nbsp; In the first scene, Aaryan approaches the house tentatively, creeping rodent-like, and carrying a briefcase and an old-fashioned lantern. And at the end, Ashim screams, “I am chaos.” Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end?&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251202071252_a49af0960d3f6f61cd8e9d5ea9c5af64655b89865711f5566f3054b701840da1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Choas play review"> </figure>  At one point Aaryan seems perturbed by the sound of protest outside (the Gen Z movement?) and the taut atmosphere grips the audience with fear, shock, and apprehension of the recent death and destruction.&nbsp; Throughout the play there is the sound of breathing, as if through a ventilator, a thumping heartbeat, the morbid buzzing of flies and the glowing red LED veins -- signifying the presence of the comatose Aama. She is featured in a prologue-esque home video at the start of the play in which she reminisces about her two sons and rues her failing memory.&nbsp; The sound of breathing gets accentuated each time a brother gets closer to the tree, and it seems to fuel Ashim’s belief that Aama may be brain-dead but she is still among them. This play can go as deep as each individual in the audience wants it to go.&nbsp; The silenced, comatose mother could be Nepali Aama muted by an entrenched patriarchy. Or, she could be the symbol of a helpless country while her children fight over the ruins of what is left. The cake cutting is a delightfully Shakespearean subplot where we wonder if one of the brothers is going to poison, or knife, the other. The message is clear: how can we move forward if it is brother against brother? The stairs signify political transition (elections, constitutional change, new coalitions) promising upward movement, but eventually lead to falls, leaving the nation exactly where it started, or worse. The mother’s terminal illness evokes an ailing state apparatus, hollowed out by corruption and deep-seated social decay. Yet the brothers cling to an irrational hope — instead of confronting the harsh truth and pursuing radical solutions, suggesting a blind faith in the mother.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251202071252_e30df0ea03c2db1759a09e2e3e3111d9d238d5cd5595a68b8052bbbc8e9ec6b3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  The brothers are lost. Aaryan climbs up stairs that lead nowhere, Ashim holds on to unrealistic hope that somehow Aama will get better. Tamrakar and Dixit deliver powerful performances, even more remarkable for the fact that they are improvising their lines as they go along. When Aaryan breaks a wall and directly addresses the audience, spectators turn from being passive observers to active participants (‘the society’). The audience then become oglers in this drama, suddenly made self-aware of our role as the scrutinising, cavilling voyeurs that society represents. There is some discomfort of being watched and judged.&nbsp; By asking his brother what he is afraid of while pointing at the audience, Aaryan suggests that the brother's (and perhaps the character's core) fear is not just of the house, or the mother's illness, but of external judgment and societal censure. After the stage goes dark, the applause takes some time. Audience members shuffle out in silence, minds reeling from the collective soul-searching they have just participated in.&nbsp; After ‘के? Us.’ the din at Teku intersection outside sounds different as we wait for our Pathao ride below the खरी tree where <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=Shukra+Raj+Shastri&amp;client=safari&amp;sca_esv=75e8315709cd5118&amp;rls=en&amp;sxsrf=AE3TifMJhwukjdBBT0n4QcQWe8IYSaEVsw%3A1764648053799&amp;ei=dWQuaYbIMOy94-EPn4ygyAE&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiU1ciogp6RAxXq3TQHHeo9LBIQgK4QegQIARAB&amp;uact=5&amp;oq=nepal+tree+where+martyrs+were+hanged&amp;gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiJG5lcGFsIHRyZWUgd2hlcmUgbWFydHlycyB3ZXJlIGhhbmdlZDIIECEYoAEYwwRIug5QAFiNC3AAeAGQAQCYAc4BoAHrCKoBBTAuNS4xuAEDyAEA-AEBmAIDoALlBMICBRAAGO8FmAMA4gMFEgExIECSBwUwLjEuMqAHzw-yBwUwLjEuMrgH5QTCBwcwLjIuMC4xyAcM&amp;sclient=gws-wiz-serp&amp;mstk=AUtExfCLIneLVW3SFBzxBc964wFcTJ936tcAPSDcvNKljck0PIqDJddMZ_t8Pg610M98MCx14aNdnyLHs9QM0jWLhI7JYmkPhugX1ZHfSQvdCHZE9E5m2_ZQY5Jr893UcGjQfpabtA_C48NfB9Pg56uYMOmTtEBEcGuvz3d96Qaifyb86sI8mAkrRNo_367cv_xmFjLZ55iQkfHtORuOvZSUkIdMvAdpweuf4jPjjI4anbv9lc-uCImdP0JSvtvEGL8ePxwsWWOzYpIbjNP1zofjcWXK&amp;csui=3" target="_blank">Shukra Raj Shastri</a> was hanged in 1941 by the Rana regime. Language and Literature Students, 2026.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251202071252_f2dc03a35cba33b382a66bbd43905206d9d3eb5ec3ebdcf973aeefbb4a50b6b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="1350" loading="lazy" alt="Chaos play review"> </figure>  ‘के? Us.’ Kausi Theatre, Teku Till 7 December (except 2 December) Bookings: +977 9842156109, 9842574607

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