<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Yen Yaa</a> has many popular myths associated with it. But sometimes popularity is shallow. We must dig deeper and uncover the layers through which history has evolved. Only then will we fully appreciate how truly ancient and profound our culture is. Tuesday was a public holiday in Kathmandu Valley for Yeṃ Yāḥ. While we celebrate Yeṃ Yāḥ with much gusto and fervour for a week, ending Saturday, we also lament over how Indrāju, the chief deity worshipped during Yeṃ Yāḥ, and his consort Indrāṇi have been globetrotting, leaving us devotees in a spiritual void. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aC4pMWoYRek?si=m9P5ClcqPqtsczCS" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> As reported by the Facebook page Lost Arts of Nepal, this 38cm tall wooden image of Indrāju and Indrāṇi, originating in Nepāl Maṇḍala in the 17th or 18th century CE, was up for sale last year on 28 September at the Stallion Hill Gallery of Stamford, Connecticut — the same day the Nepal government had declared a holiday in honour of Indrāju. Yaḥsiṃ, also known as Indradhoj, the symbolic wooden pole of Indrāju, was erected Sunday morning at the former royal palace complex in Hanumāndhokā, marking the formal beginning of the mystical and colorful Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240919080912_5700bcba2227c375fbe652bff8dc990a3cfe21763c64c4397b6cf1ca8896d638" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="yashim/indradhoj before it is hoisted NT"> <figcaption>Yasih, the symbolic pole of Indra, before it is hoisted.</figcaption> </figure>  The legend goes that on the fourth of the dark half of Bhadra, lord of heaven Indra came to Kathmandu to get the Parijāt flower (night-blooming jasmine, Nyctanthes arbor-tristis), which his mother needed to perform a sacred ritual in honour of goddess Vasundharā. Kathmanduites caught him stealing the flower and tied him up in a wooden pole in a busy marketplace to shame his thieving act — this tradition continues till today by putting up his effigy in street intersections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240919080920_22694309d71b583f2bf9ada217c01eded6944af6f3d7fcc7cf5b70c0d8333e7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Indraju tied up on a pole NT"> <figcaption>Indrāju image tied up on a tall machan in Maru, Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  Says cultural documentarian Sandip Maharjan, “People worship Indra that night and offer him hard-to-chew roasted maize, wheat and beans — a kind of a punishment for his misdeed. On this day, Indra is called khuṃ dyaḥ, meaning thief god in Nepālbhāsā.” The festival is celebrated to glorify Lord Indra's visit — though unpleasant — to earth, and hence the name Indra Jatra. Says Jaa Dangol, founder of Lachhi that promotes ethnic food, living, and products, “The full moon day is celebrated in many parts of the Kathmandu valley as Samayabaji Punhi, when every Newāḥ household prepares special food items to distribute it in the neighborhood as a means of earning good karma to help deceased ancestors find their way to heaven.” The food items include puffed rice, black soybean, ginger pieces, marinated buffalo meat and lentil pancake — representing sky, wind, fire, water and earth respectively, the five building blocks of the universe as per Vedic philosophy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240919080912_69cf13389ff2a0a13c1ff706893fb282c25a93f68cf4cd1bd15d575982aea1e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Samaybhaji NT"> <figcaption>Ceremonial Samaybaji, the food that represents the universe.</figcaption> </figure>  Indra's celestial elephant Pulu Kisi, and eventually his mother Dāgīṃ, descended to earth looking for the erring Indra, the legend goes on. Both these events are mirthfully acted out in the streets of Kathmandu during Indra Jatra till today.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240919080916_f11397ca5db1dca01c0f949a92f39dc27e98f2db4e03fe3a1b37e9b1bdcfd812" data-rendition-name="original" width="1788" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dagim, Indra's mother NT"> <figcaption>Dagim, Indra's mother, parading the streets of Kathmandu.</figcaption> </figure>  The older — and possibly original — interpretation of the gala Indra Jatra fest is much more profound than the entertaining story of the thief god Indra. That explanation is connected with the agrarian civilisation of Kathmandu Valley, and its climatic conditions that determine the quality and quantity of agricultural produce. For the indigenous Newāḥ people of Nepāl Maṇḍala, all ancestors have supernatural powers, and hence are divinities. The autumnal festival Yeṃ Yāḥ is celebrated in honor of one particular ancestral deity — Indrāju — in appreciation of his rainmaking capabilities. Indrāju is the conjunct of Indra, the king of heaven, and Āju, the male ancestral divinity. Indrāju has blessed Nepāl Maṇḍala with plenty of rain during the monsoon, hence enabling a bountiful harvest. The people of Nepāl Maṇḍala are now celebrating Yeṃ Yāḥ, at the end of the monsoon, in honour of Indrāju for the rain he sent down to earth from heaven. Another name for Indrāju is Yemāḥ Dyaḥ, from which Indra Jatra's original name — Yeṃ Yāḥ — is derived. Indrāju is easily identifiable with the horizontal third eye on his forehead. He is usually accompanied by the elephant, his vehicle.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240919080924_ebbd7c0737721c747824d47703f0c44a5344ec90e41d3dd850366a5af840998f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="854" loading="lazy" alt="Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant "> <figcaption>Pulu Kisi, Indra's celestial elephant.</figcaption> </figure>  Indrāju is no doubt the protagonist in this week-long gala. But of equal — if not greater — importance is the exuberant display of Hāthu Dyaḥ, commonly venerated as Vedic deity Bhairava in recent centuries. Why is Bhairav so ubiquitous during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the festival that venerates Indrāju? Numerous images of Hāthu Dyaḥ are brought out from storage and displayed atop special wooden platforms at street intersections throughout the old settlements of Kathmandu Valley during the Yeṃ Yāḥ festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240919080916_477f02add39d232482ccc2f344098b6b66c9b072fe1cf219a6e4fe59409bccf5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Hathu Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Primordial image of Hāthu Dyaḥ.</figcaption> </figure>  According to Gautama Vajracharya, an eminent Sanskritist and scholar of Newāḥ heritage, Hāthu Dyaḥ is the ancestral sky god who bestows monsoon rains upon the earth. The cult of Hāthu Dyaḥ existed in Nepāl Maṇḍala before the arrival of the Licchavis from northern India in 300 CE. At that time, Hāthu Dyaḥ was venerated by Kathmandu Valley's agrarian population as the male ancestral deity and sky god who bestowed the valley with rain during the monsoon. Putting up a Hāthu Dyaḥ image on a raised platform in the street and carrying out the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual (pouring of home made rice beer from a container behind the Hāthu Dyaḥ image) every day for a week during Yeṃ Yāḥ was a way to thank him for the rains that enabled a good rice plantation season. It is believed that drinking the holy beer that flows from Hāthu Dyaḥ's mouth contributes to one's good health for the rest of the year. An imposing and elaborately decorated image of Hāthu Dyaḥ (specific name: Āju Dyaḥ, meaning male ancestral deity) is brought out from his temple at Vaṃghaḥ, nowadays also known as Indrachowk. This was a major intersection in old Kathmandu that was given the name during Rānā regime because of the image of Indrāju put up on a high platform during Yeṃ Yāḥ. Throughout Yeṃ Yāḥ, the blue Āju Dyaḥ is put up for a resplendent display on a wooden stage, complete with a glistening metal roof and three finials, built just for this purpose.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240919080920_0c3bf5f0340711727f1b5e768553ed170815ef5baa2247ea8f64215613b32447" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Aju Dyah NT"> <figcaption>Āju Dyaḥ image put up for display on the street.</figcaption> </figure>  Twice a day during Yeṃ Yāḥ, the Hāthu Hāyeke ritual takes place here. Āju Dyaḥ is also known as Yelam, derived from the archaic Nepāl Bhāsā word ailam, meaning sky. Hence, a modern name of Āju Dyaḥ is Ākāś Bhairava, literally the sky Bhairava. Hāthu Dyaḥ, Āju Dyaḥ and Bhairava are always depicted by Newāḥ artisans with abstract circular patterns in parts of the face, such as in the eyebrows and around the mouth. These metaphysical shapes are defined by art historians as water foliage — rain drops that make up the cloud. This connects Hāthu Dyaḥ with the sky and rain once more. The trend of giving continuity to Hāthu Hāyeke by using the physical form of Bhairava instead of the primordial Hāthu Dyaḥ took root in the post-Licchavi era (after 879 CE), according to Vajracharya. Essentially, Yeṃ Yāḥ is the autumnal festival that celebrates the end of the rainy season by thanking the ancestral rainmaker deity who underwent transformation from pre-Lichhavi period Hāthu Dyaḥ to the post-Lichhavi period Bhairava. &nbsp;Says Vajracharya, "During the Lichhavi period, he was mostly venerated as Indrāju, the combined form or Vedic god of rain Indra and male ancestor Āju."  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240919080928_6856416e04ecd74394fd05a3f0ee92af42309865e1f51183a38f73f6db1c9e22" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Devi Nach NT"> <figcaption>The ancient Devi Nach performed during the festival.</figcaption> </figure>  All modern forms of Hāthu Dyaḥ are depicted as the Vedic deity Bhairava, the wrathful form of lord Śiva. Hanumāndhokā's Hāthu Dyaḥ, nowadays commonly known as Śveta Bhairava, is a recent one — it was built in the early Śāh period (late 18th century CE). All Hāthu Dyaḥ images look irate and have a third eye. Alok Siddhi Tuladhar is a cultural preservation activist and documentary filmmaker. Tuladhar dedicates himself to preserving Nepal's cultural legacy, aiming to celebrate his roots and inspire younger generations of its value for a better tomorrow. He can be reached at <a href="mailto:alokstuladhar@gmail.com">alokstuladhar@gmail.com</a>.

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Yeṃ Yāḥ

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238229c7e80680e0c736cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"/><figcaption>The Gurju Paltan getting ready to kick off the Kumari chariot parade. ALL PHOTOS: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption></figure>Patan has Rato Machindranath, Bhaktapur has Biska, and the Newā people of Kathmandu have Yen yā as their biggest festival.Also known as Indra Jatra, the eight-day centuries old festival is marked by various masked dance prades representing different deities and demons performed in the choks and dabalis of the ancient town.The temples and intersections are lined with oblation of samaya baji and the chariots of Kumari, Bharaiv and Ganesh are paraded around different parts of town on different days.There are many origin stories of the festival, the more common of which is the one where Lord Indra comes to Kathmandu Valley disguised as a human, in search of a parijat flower for his mother Dagini. The locals catch him and parade him in the town center.Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The legend behind the myth of Indra Jatra</a>, Desmond DoigA part of the festival is an reenactment of this legend with a representative idol of Indra at the city center, pulu kishi, the white elephant going around town searching for his master and Dagini coming down to earth in search of her son.Some version also say that the festival is the worship of nature and ancestors. In Indra Chok, the Aju dya diety, commonly known as Akash Bhairav, the male ancestor of the indigenous Newā people, is brought down from his sanctum and kept in a raised platform for eight days.Lesser known than Kathmandu, Bhaktapur too celebrates Indra Jatra for eight days a part of which involves taking the idol if Goddess Indrayani for rituals and a Dipawali.Here are some of the different dances and aspects of Yen ya captured by Nepali Times photojournalist Suman Nepali.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238259c7e80680e0c736djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1406"><figcaption>Living god Ganesh looks out of a window during Indra Jatra festival in Kathmandu.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238289c7e80680e0c736ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Living goddess Kumari during the Indra Jatra Festival</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372382b9c7e80680e0c736fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>People gather at Basantapur Darbar Square to view the chariot procession and masked dances.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372382f9c7e80680e0c7370jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1428"><figcaption>Devotees pull the chariots of Ganesh, Bhairav and Kumari.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238329c7e80680e0c7371jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1234"><figcaption>President Bidya Devi Bhandari, Mayor of Kathmandu Balen Shah and Deputy Mayor of Kathmandu Sunita Dangol with other dignitaries in Gaddi Baithak.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238359c7e80680e0c7372jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1296"><figcaption>Halchok Bhairav dance</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238389c7e80680e0c7373jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Pulu Kisi</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372383b9c7e80680e0c7374jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1372"><figcaption>Living god Bhairav during teh chariot procession.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372383e9c7e80680e0c7375jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1306"><figcaption>People gather infront of Hatu dya (Swet Bhairav).</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238419c7e80680e0c7376jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1350"><figcaption>Majipa Lakhe</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238449c7e80680e0c7377jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1464"><figcaption>The idol of Akash Bhairav (Aju dya) is put on a raised platform in Indrachok.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/637238479c7e80680e0c7378jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Indra's mother Dagini, comes down to earth in search of her son.</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131144/6372384a9c7e80680e0c7379jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2048" height="1364"><figcaption>Dancers perform Di pyakhan (Devi naach).</figcaption></figure>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPI&amp;feature=emb_logoRead Also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-ready-for-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Are you ready for Indra Jatra</a>, Nepali Times<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/wine-and-women-during-yenya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Wine and women during Yenya</a>, Pratibha Tuladhar

Kathmandu marks the Yen yā festival

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d17989c7e80680e0ac777jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Women-only night at Indra Jatra festival where participants drink rice wine from Swet Bhairav’s mouth as a blessing. Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>Here is what the image shows:  her face turned towards the sky, her mouth open, catching a fountain of thwon (rice wine), flowing down Hatu Dyaa’s mouth, straight into hers.Her eyes are shut, like they were caging inside them a perfect moment of desire. It is an image from a day at the Indra Jatra week, now, popularly known as a women-only night at the festival.“How was it?” I ask her.“It was exhilarating!” she texts back.In 2017, the Yenya or Indra Jatra committee set aside a day for women to drink from Hatu Dyaa (Swet Bhairab) an activity which in the past had not been segregated by gender, and was therefore accessible mostly to men.“It gets quite rowdy,” my friend says. And explains she had gone prepared with a “quick dry tee and shoes and all”. She says she would love to do it again and I assure her I would join her.Growing up in Naradevi Tole, tucked away in old Kathmandu, Yenya was the focal point of the year for me, and not any other festival. In the evenings, the family would set out for a walk through the festivities.One time, my काका raised me through a crowd of men, taking me all the way to where the wine was trickling down the mouth of Swet Bhairav. I carry a faint memory of being scooped up from the ground and being flung under the massive face of the deity as some wine spray hit me.As a grown-up, however, I have only experienced the ceremony from a distance. I got on a call this week with some girlfriends who had attended the event in 2019, and felt an excitement rise in my belly, looking at images of them jostling to get under the wine tap.“I definitely want to do it again,” Anbika Giri laughed. “It was hard to push others and go all the way to the wine pipe, but I still managed. It splashed  over my face, body, mouth, my hair. But I also came away with a sense of achievement.”Bhawana Gurung, who was alongside Anbika that evening, did not exactly get to drink, but was definitely showered on as she got shoved around in the crowd: “I came home smelling like thwon.”Anbika recalls how everyone around her looked overwhelmed by the experience, despite clothes and hair that had become soaked in rice wine. She calls the experience a way of exercising your will. She calls it a symbol.“I saw it as a way of choosing. To push your way through the crowd and then to compete to drink — not everyone gets to do it. But the thing is, you’re not being hindered. You’re making a choice to experience it,” says Anbika. “Fun events for Nepali women are limited. We’re told that enjoyment is not right. We internalise it. So this activity is a symbol to reverse that. Even if it was water instead of wine, people would still go. It is about claiming space.”Coming from a Janjati community, Bhawana has experienced more “freedom” than her friends from other communities. “I think it’s a privilege that we don’t have to observe seclusion when we’re on our periods. I’ve also had freedom of mobility. But my mother would still bar me from drinking alcohol, which means that even within our community, my freedom is inferior to that of a man. So, the event for me was not so much about drinking, as much as it was about participating at free-will.”Bhawana’s main take away: “We have festivals where women aren’t allowed to go to temples or attend certain festivals. If this festival can be inclusive, so can the others.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161124/636d179c9c7e80680e0ac778jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Festivals, in different cultures, are known to restrict women’s freedom as they are mostly confined to kitchen duties, while men revel. Then, there is also the sunset curfew for women. The liberty for women to drink from a deity, has also been seen a mark of how women have the right to be outside their homes at night, participating in celebrations alongside their male relatives and friends.Ever since drinking from the Swet Bhairav spout opened to women five years ago, women clamouring before Hatu Dyaa, have been some of the most viewed photos on social media. While a lot of these images clearly come from the male gaze, there is also the photo-opportunity side to it, the two strands representing two very different things.Anbika says media has glamorised the event like it has always done with events where women and drinks come together. She also cites examples of front-page images from Tundikhel during festivals like Udhauli, Ubhauli and Sonam Lhosar, where it is always young women who are splashed across the pages. There is certainly the risk of over glamorisation of an event eclipsing the meaning of it, she argues.Some images of women drinking at Indra Jatra, however, have come to represent the other side of the gaze. They depict women as aspirants to be seen as equals in a society where the festive nightlights and the right of participating in a fun activity are male entitlement.Bhawana argues that the festival, with so many female deities at its centre, must have always had women at the heart of it. “When I watched <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPI">Anil Chitrakar</a> talking about how Indra’s mother makes the journey from Heaven to Earth to rescue her son, I instantly thought of how the festival’s crux was a <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">woman’s journey</a> and how that is an empowering story in itself.”Even though Bhawana moved to Kathmandu many years ago and lived in Patan, she says she has never felt like she could be a participant in the jatras of the valley, however, a sentiment that Anbika echoes: “People who are migrants to Kathmandu shy away from local festivals even though we live here. And no one invites us. Who takes the first step to make them more inclusive is also a thing.”Asha Thapa, who has been quietly listening to our banter interrupts: “I will surely attend the festival in a pandemic-free world for the experience. I come from a community where even as someone in my late 20s, I’ve never had alcohol with my parents and to give women an opportunity to drink publicly seems me like a way of saying that the culture is making space for women to be who they want. Whether to drink or not, is also a choice women should get to make, don’t you think?”For over a decade now, I have sauntered around Basantapur alone during Yenya, observing its many eccentricities and critiquing its ways that are beyond my comprehension and sense of agreement. But I have also thought that if a festival can keep improvising to make way for changes in society, it also means there is hope that the culture will keep up with its people.And so, in a pandemic-free world, I will probably jostle alongside my girlfriends, sharing a moment with them before Hatu Dyaa. For I have learned that sometimes it takes a moment in our memory to set us free.Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people (with some names changed) in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Wine and women during Yenya

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8839c7e80680e0737e7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Parijat night jasmine flowers for which, it is believed, lord of heaven Indra descended upon Kathmandu. Photo: KUNDA DIXIT</figcaption></figure>Indra Jatra, or Yenya, commemorates the descent of a god from heaven dressed in peasant's clothes and bent on a very human pursuit: stealing flowers.The deity concerned was no ordinary god. He was Indra, the Lord of Heaven. When he descended on Kathmandu wrapped in a concealing cloud, no one recognised him. So much so, that when he was discovered gathering parijat night jasmine flowers, people caught and bound him hand and foot like a common thief.For reasons best known to himself, Indra refused to reveal his identity and none suspected it even though his celestial elephant began searching the streets of Kathmandu for him. In heaven, Indra's mother, who had required the parijat flowers for the observance of a festival, grew so anxious at her son's disappearance that she also descended on Kathmandu and lost no time in letting it be known who she and her son were.Great was the people's rejoicing and, presumably, their embarrassment. King and commoner alike celebrated their amazing good fortune with feasts and processions, song and dance. And when their divine guests were about to depart they asked a boon of Indra's mother.Would she take with her to heaven the souls of all those who had died that year? This she readily granted, besides bestowing a gift of her own -- a gentle morning mist that would blanket the Kathmandu Valley during the autumn and winter months to ripen the harvest. Farmers are still apt to call it the gift of milk.As for the souls of the dead, she advised that they form a chain behind her holding on to each other, with the first taking a firm grip on her sari. Away they went like the tail of a great kite. They hadn't travelled far, when something as unfortunate as spiritual vertigo or fatigue caused the chain break and all the souls fell into a lake atop a mountain south of Kathmandu, where bereaved families went to worship and honour them.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109141116/636ba8869c7e80680e0737e8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1108" height="1500"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Today, Kathmandu celebrates Indra Jatra which, fused together with the festival of the living goddess Kumari, and the epic of the Nepali King Yalambar who was slain by Krishna at the battle of the Mahabharata, is Nepal's most colourful celebration. Everyone, from the king, the royal family, ministers, government servants, the general public-even foreign diplomats, are involved.For this is the time of the year when the king receives the blessings of the Kumari who places tika on his forehead. Superstition, well supported by strange circumstance or coincidence, enhances the belief that the Kumari, in fact, bestows upon the king the right to rule for another year. When, on occasion, she has mistakenly placed tika on the wrong forehead dire consequences have resulted.This too is the time when all the valley's Bhairab masks are displayed, particularly the great silver mask that Yalambar wore to battle, and the even larger, bejewelled golden mask of the white Bhairab in the old palace.All over the valley, in city, town and village are strange erections of wood, like wayside crucifixions, to which are tied masked dummies representing the captive Indra. Numerous images of other gods are brought out to watch the festival, for nobody, not even the hosts of heaven, would like to miss so wondrous an event.Hung from a tall pole in the old palace square of Kathmandu is a colourful banner representing the flag presented to Indra by Vishnu. As long as it is there it means that the lord of heaven is in Kathmandu, bestowing upon the city and the country, his blessings and protection. At the foot of the pole is a small cage, both confining and enshrining an image of Indra and a golden elephant, his traditional mount. They represent the god's captivity, so many long legends ago.The pole itself is invested with significance. Some days before the festival begins, a government appointed priest and a select group of men from Kathmandu make for a pine forest not far from Bhaktapur. There, following ancient ritual and on-the-spot portents, they select a tree, offer prayer and blood sacrifice and after felling it, drag it in procession to the potters' village of Thimi.Men of Thimi bear it to Kathmandu's Tundikhel from where it is finally taken to the old palace square in Kathmandu by men of the city. There follows a blessing by the royal priest, who comes accompanied by soldiers in the olden uniforms of King Prithvi Narayan's Gorkha army carrying muskets and swords, and marching to a military band out of history. As the pole is raised into position, cannons boom and music plays.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqG_okS_wPIWhen the festival is done, the great pole is taken in procession to the river Bagmati where it is immersed, cut into pieces to feed the perpetual flame that burns at yet another Bhairab shrine on the river bank. So much for the living, for whom the Indra and Kumari jatras are carnivals of numerous attractions: dances representing the demons Lakhe and Dagini, enactments of the mortal incarnations of Vishnu, folk dramas, processions of masked 'deities,' a dancing elephant made of bamboo, painted cloth and human legs, and the massive trundle of the Kumari's rath, followed by lesser chariots of the living Ganesh and Bhairab, virgin boys selected in much the same way as the Kumari. And there is the king who can be seen more closely and more relaxed than at any other official occasion.For the dear departed are processions of lights and symbolic processions of men and women, holding onto each other in the way the spirits of old held hopefully to the sari of Indra's heaven-bound mother. There are prayers and fasts and feasts, and finally every bereaved family sends at least one member to the mountain top lake where the spirits once fell.For those who like a more scholarly reason for festivals such as this, it is thought that the warrior king, whose Aryan forces overpowered India, inevitably turned his attention to the Himalaya. Perhaps the warlike hill people nagged his flanks. Leading an army against them, he was captured and held prisoner until he promised some boon of settlement. The great Nepali king Yalambar ruled Nepal at the time. No one less than a god, and the Lord of Heaven at that, could have fought and come to terms with him: an interesting thought as festival chariots toll through Kathmandu.An artist, writer, and designer, Desmond Doig moved from Calcutta to Kathmandu in the 1970s, and made the Valley his home. He died in Pokhara in 1984. Nepali Times has serialised chapters from his book, In the Kingdom of the Gods, from which this piece is extracted.

The legend behind the myth of Indra Jatra

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a587f9c7e80680e05483bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1886"/><figcaption>All photos: SAMIR SHRESTHA</figcaption></figure>As Kathmandu got ready to celebrate Yenya Punhi (Indra Jatra) with its Kumari chariot procession last week, the masked dancers were also getting ready for their popular street performances.Laxman Ranjit was inside the Lakhey House in the Basantapur Square in Kathmandu, preparing for the ritual. The dancers do not just don masks, leg bells, and colourful flowing skirts, they have to actually go into a divine trance where they become the embodiment of the gods and demons they represent.Whoever wears the mask gets energy from it, and is consumed by its holy aura. As other devotees help Laxman Ranjit get dressed up, his demeanour changes. It looks like the spirit is already entering his body.Finally, a white turban is wrapped on his head which will hold the mask on his head. Four men  hold Ranjit on either side to restrain him as the red lakhey mask is put on.As he is led to the door, there are some rituals to perform: an oil lamp is waved in front of his face as Ranjit’s body starts to shake – at first imperceptibly, but with more and more energy.  Outside on the street, hundreds of people are waiting eagerly for the first lakheys to emerge, as they have for centuries before.Once out of the Lakhey House Laxman Ranjit’s energy explodes like a volcano. The shouts and screams of the crowd seems to energise him even more as he leaps, and spins like a dervish.Masked dancers are ordinary people going about their daily jobs the rest of the year, but at Indra Jatra, designated masked dancers are possessed by the divine spirit and can change into powerful demons or gods just by putting on the holy mask.It is the power of faith, devotion and a responsibility to carry on the culture of their forebears that keeps this festival of the Kathmandu Valley Civilisation alive.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58829c7e80680e05483cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1762"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58859c7e80680e05483djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1887"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58889c7e80680e05483ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1869"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a588c9c7e80680e05483fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1765"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a588f9c7e80680e054840jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1950"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58929c7e80680e054841jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1933"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108141124/636a58959c7e80680e054842jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3000" height="1993">Read also:<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/kathmandu-celebrates-yenya/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kathmandu celebrates Yenyā</a>, Monika Deupala

Getting behind the divine mask

India and Pakistan are twins separated at birth. Tensions between them have been at a hair trigger ever since independence and has erupted into full scale conflict at least four times in the past 80 years.
The 22 April terrorist attack in Kashmir that killed 25 Indian tourists and a Nepali citizen, threatens to escalate tension between the two nuclear-armed nations. India has squarely blamed Pakistan for the attacks, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi has given his military “operational freedom” to respond. Pakistan has said it has credible intelligence of an Indian military strike and its officials have promised a “full spectrum” response — a code for a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/thinking-the-thinkable">nuclear retaliation</a>.
For Nepal, the killing of its national in the Pahalgam attack comes as another stark reminder that in conflicts from Afghanistan to Iraq, from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-to-agree-an-armistice-in-ukraine">Ukraine</a> to Israel, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/10-nepalis-from-one-town-fighting-in-ukraine">Nepalis are getting caught in the crossfire</a>. The last time full-scale fighting broke out between <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/peacemongers-at-india-pakistan-border">India and Pakistan</a> on Kargil in 1999, at least 22<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-trial-by-fire-for-soldiers-from-nepal?%27%5C%22="> Nepalis fighting for the Indian Army</a> were killed in action.
Three of Nepal’s immediate neighbours (China, India, Pakistan) have nuclear weapons, and they do not have good relations. With China supplying weapons, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/war-and-warming">missile technology</a> and other support to Pakistan, this triangular friction could set off a regional conflagration.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43016-022-00573-0" target="_blank">Research at Rutgers University</a> has calculated that even a week-long tactical nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan would throw up so much smoke and debris into the atmosphere that it would block out the sun for years, and lead to a collapse of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/grow-nourish-sustain-together-world-food-day">global food system</a>. This does not take into account the radioactive fallout that prevailing winds would blow up to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">the Himalaya</a>, contaminating glaciers that are the sources of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">Asia’s main rivers</a>.
The impact of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>on High Asia was already ringing alarm bells about its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">shrinking ice cap</a> reducing the dry season flow of water downstream. Water was going to be the next strategic commodity, geopolitical experts warned, and the next wars in Asia would be over water.
That water war is already happening. India retaliated to the Kashmir attack by suspending the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/24/world/asia/india-pakistan-indus-waters-treaty.html" target="_blank">Indus Waters Treaty</a> of 1960 mediated by the World Bank that has withstood at least three wars between India and Pakistan. The treaty gives India control over the three eastern tributaries of the Indus (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beas_River" target="_blank">Beas</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravi_River" target="_blank">Ravi</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sutlej" target="_blank">Sutlej</a>), while Pakistan got water from the Indus and two of its western tributaries (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indus_River" target="_blank">Indus</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chenab_River" target="_blank">Chenab</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jhelum_River" target="_blank">Jhelum</a>.
Pakistan was assured of 70% of the annual flow, and India could use a reasonable amount of water for<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15231"> irrigation and hydropower</a>. &nbsp;Within days of its threat, India stopped water flowing down to Pakistan from the Chenab river and is reportedly preparing to do the same on the Jhelum.
The sabre-rattling has reached a crescendo. Besides threats and counter-threats there are also symbolic drills, with the Indian Air Force practicing landing on an expressway in Uttar Pradesh by its Rafale, Su-30 and Jaguar fighter jets to demonstrate ‘operational readiness’. In response Pakistan test-fired its Abdali ballistic missile that can carry a nuclear warhead and has a range of 450km.&nbsp;
The danger is that with ultra-nationalist rhetoric and the beating the war drums by both sides, India’s government and Pakistan’s military may have to ‘do something’ to appease domestic public opinion. But any tactical strike, an artillery exchange, or territorial incursion could quickly escalate out of control.
Expecting an Indian retaliation for the Pahalgam killings, Pakistan is using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/interfaith-collaboration-for-nuclear-disarmament"> nuclear deterrence </a>and warning of “catastrophic consequences”. The two neighbours came close to a nuclear exchange in 2019 after an attack on the Indian military in Kashmir, and prompt international intervention led by the United States cooled tensions.&nbsp;
This time, the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/trump-shock-wave-hits-nepal">Trump administration</a> is too distracted and not as engaged. Pakistan has denied it was responsible for the terrorist attack and called on Washington to stop a possible Indian retaliation. India and Pakistan have stopped overflights by each other’s airlines, and some international carriers have even stopped flying over Pakistan fearing an air war.
Washington, Beijing, the UN and the EU have all urged restraint. Iran, which has good relations with both India and Pakistan has sent its foreign minister to urge both countries not to go into a tit-for-tat war. Iran has its own nuclear flashpoint to worry about with tensions in Israel, &nbsp;Yemen and Syria.
India and Pakistan both share similar problems of joblessness, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-nepal-s-poverty-rate-is-stuck">poverty </a>and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/climate-change-new-threat-to-nepal-s-rhinos">environmental threats</a>. Neither side needs the threat of a senseless war, and we in the neighbourhood do not need it either.&nbsp;
Kunda Dixit
This Editorial is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

Nukes in the neighbourhood

The streets of Patan are alive this month with lavender jacaranda trees under rain-washed skies as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-red-god-rises-again-in-patan">the chariot of Rato Matsyendranath</a> is pulled across town. This is the festival of the rain god, and inevitably the heavens opened up and pre-monsoon showers pelted the chariot as it started being pulled in Pulchok last week. Thousands of devotees, onlookers and the chariot procession organisers thronged the streets on the first day last week. The rhythmic cymbals and drums exuded a vibrant energy as the enormous four wheels turned and the chariot lurched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025051007050_81df97744db16f732a419dc1f1579d235ce3df37642b078f50b83bd4bd026688" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  The<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Red-rain-god,3141"> red rain god</a> has Hindu and Buddhist antecedents, alternatively called Bungadya and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-gravity-defying-chariot-festival"> Karunamaya</a> — reflecting Kathmandu Valley’s syncretic mixture of the two religions.&nbsp; “Bungadya is a profoundly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/12-full-opinion/marketing-the-intangible">intangible form of heritage</a>,” explains heritage expert Monalisa Maharjan. “It embodies traditional knowledge,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reviving-nepal-s-craft"> artisanal skills passed down through generations</a>. Local communities and specific families have specified roles in being custodians of the heritage, ensuring their survival over the centuries.” There are many legends and stories about this annual tradition. Lichhavi king Narendra Dev is supposed to have brought Rato Matsyendranath from Assam to Kathmandu Valley to convince Guru Gorakhnath to lift a spell that created a two-year drought in Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250510050520_347a9a398f8a9abc4a7fb4e2774fde8264cccbdce8bdab23851ab3f0e73c3e8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Matsyendranath was Gorakhnath’s mentor, and upon seeing him, the serpents were released, unleashing the rains. The chariot festival honours the return of this life-giving rain. The deity is seen as an icon for thriving agriculture, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">he arrival of monsoon</a> showers, and the welfare of the community. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">The reign of the god of rain</a>, Vidhu Prakash Kayastha Till this day, the Rato Matsyendranath festival is no ordinary celebration. Patan does not sleep for a month as the chariot is pulled through various neighbourhoods. It unfolds at a state level with the president (formerly the king) attending the climax of the Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel later this month.&nbsp; The intergenerational transmission of tradition is unique in the world, and the reason the festival is one of the most vibrant cultural expressions that thrives despite inroads of modernity. The other unique aspect is that it is a transnational festival, binding Patan with Guwahati in the Indian state of Assam.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2025051005058_8bc685ada13045d863b28e3eed91c931da2b510714586af6fd7eb5d1e298a24a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  “Unlike Nepal, where the deity commands grandeur and devotion, many in Assam are unaware of Rato Matsyendranath,” says Khagen Sharma of Gauhati University, which convened <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-assam-connection-revived">a symposium in February in Guwahati on the rain god</a>. Attending was a delegation led by Lalitpur Mayor Chiribabu Maharjan, organisers of the festival, and builders of the chariot. After the symposium, a committee was formed to explore and revive the tradition in Assam as well. Although the team had planned to visit Nepal this month, logistical challenges delayed the trip. Still, there are plans to build a Guru Matsyendranath statue in Assam to reestablish regular worship practices in the Guwahati shrine.&nbsp; The vines used to build the chariot in Patan are sourced from the jungles of Assam. But Sharma notes that in recent years unclear regulations have blocked the official import of the vines, although they are still brought to Nepal informally. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">chariot making</a> has also had a taste of modernisation in recent times. In the past, even a single nail or piece of steel was avoided. But over time, the wooden structure, particularly the shaft between the wheels, has been replaced with bronze. When that too proved unstable, metal clamps were introduced, which have become a pragmatic compromise.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250510050524_b2a819a5791612f14c81d30fc393dbd3f99f0c64b90a9110e8b0855d944bfa93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="998" loading="lazy" alt="Divine chariot"> </figure>  Another welcome change is the focus on safety. Builders climbing the chariot’s tower now wear harnesses and there are efforts in crowd control. The most visible change in recent years has been the involvement of Patan’s enthusiastic youth in the festival — the tradition is now passing to a new generation. Says Matsyendranath expert Vidhu Kayastha: “There is more energy, the young people in red t-shirts this year were very organised, these modern touches aren’t diluting our culture, they’re keeping it alive in new forms.” He adds, “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">reconnecting with our roots</a>, we have more resources, more awareness than ever before. We must not be swept away by western values that may not serve us, and in some ways, cause more harm than good. We must revive our own culture.”&nbsp;

Divine chariot

In 2025, two seemingly disconnected acts of violence shattered the illusion of stability in the region. In March, <a href="https://www.ft.com/content/16f7f947-1e96-4206-9844-891378adc683" target="_blank">militants hijacked a passenger train</a> near the Bolan Pass in Balochistan, executing soldiers in cold blood. A month later, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/22/world/asia/kashmir-terrorist-attack.html" target="_blank">gunmen in Kashmir’s</a> Pahalgam Valley massacred tourists. 
In both Islamabad and New Delhi, <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/4/25/were-cursed-kashmiris-under-attack-across-india-after-pahalgam-killings" target="_blank">the reaction was reflexive:</a> condemn the violence, <a href="https://www.economist.com/asia/2025/04/22/india-and-pakistan-could-come-to-blows-over-kashmir" target="_blank">blame external enemies</a>, declare the situation contained. But South Asia’s leaders are not fighting terrorists alone. They are fighting the consequences of their own betrayals.
Across <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-26272897" target="_blank">Balochistan</a>, <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-south-asia-11693674" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, <a href="https://www.crisisgroup.org/asia/south-asia/india/346-finding-way-out-festering-conflict-indias-manipur" target="_blank">Manipur</a>, and beyond, decades of <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/en/projects/enforced-disappearance-in-south-asia/" target="_blank">enforced disappearances</a>, broken promises, and brute militarisation have hollowed out the social contracts meant to hold these nations together. The grievances that drove rebellions from the 1940s through the 1990s – demands for dignity, recognition, and political agency – were never meaningfully addressed. They were buried beneath asphalt and propaganda, paved over by development projects and security checkpoints.
States may claim victory. But their victories are mirages, dissolving the moment anyone looks too closely. South Asia’s unfinished wars are not relics of a violent past. They are live ammunition, loaded into the future.
<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/mar/24/he-only-wanted-revenge-the-bloody-insurgency-in-balochistan-gaining-lethal-momentum" target="_blank">Balochistan</a> has been at war with Pakistan for most of its modern history. Rich in gas, minerals, and coastline, the province has been plundered for decades under the language of national development. 
Projects like the <a href="https://eastasiaforum.org/2020/11/26/pakistans-three-evils-cpec-and-good-governance/" target="_blank">China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC)</a> promise progress but deliver exclusion: minerals are mined, ports are secured, but Baloch homes are raided. 
The insurgency endures not because of foreign conspiracies, as Islamabad endlessly insists, but because the Pakistani state remains incapable of seeing its <a href="https://thebalochistanpost.net/2025/01/enforced-disappearances-in-balochistan-in-december-2024-tbp-report/" target="_blank">Baloch citizens</a> as anything other than a security problem to be managed.
In <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/ranisingh/2016/07/12/kashmir-in-the-worlds-most-militarized-zone-violence-after-years-of-comparative-calm/" target="_blank">Kashmir</a>, the Indian government claims to have <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/08/world/asia/kashmir-village-defense-committees.html" target="_blank">“normalised” the valley</a> after revoking its autonomy in 2019. It <a href="https://www.cfr.org/global-conflict-tracker/conflict/conflict-between-india-and-pakistan" target="_blank">looks a lot like occupation</a>. Soldiers outnumber local leaders, dissent is criminalised, internet shutdowns suffocate public life. Tourism campaigns and investment summits cannot erase a generation raised under curfew and surveillance.
<a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-66260730" target="_blank">Manipur’s descent into ethnic bloodshed</a> in 2023 exposed another fault line Delhi prefers to ignore. Long-simmering tensions between the Meitei and Kuki communities erupted into violence that shattered any illusions of northeastern integration. The central government’s delayed, politicised response made clear what many Manipuris had always suspected: they are citizens of India only when convenient.
Even the <a href="https://msf.org.au/rohingya-worlds-largest-stateless-population" target="_blank">Rohingya, stateless and exiled from Myanmar</a>, find themselves entangled in South Asia’s ethnonationalist calculus. Fleeing genocide, they are criminalised anew in Bangladesh and India – trapped between the countries that reject them and the memories that refuse to let them go.
South Asia’s states have excelled at suppressing rebellion. But failed at extinguishing the reasons rebellions rise in the first place. And the wars South Asia tries to forget at home have found new life abroad.
Across <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-06-17/modis-indian-government-accused-of-spying-silencing-critics/103974414" target="_blank">Canada, Australia, Britain, and the United States</a>, diasporic communities have become memory-keepers and, increasingly, <a href="https://www.business-standard.com/world-news/khalistan-supporters-hold-protest-outside-indian-consulate-in-vancouver-123092600087_1.html" target="_blank">the agitators</a> for the struggles their home states would rather erase.
Khalistan flags fly outside Indian consulates in Vancouver and <a href="https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/punjab/perturbed-over-waving-of-khalistani-flags-at-an-event-in-melbourne-india-warns-australia-of-khalistan-separatists-and-their-links-with-terror-groups-458320/" target="_blank">Melbourne</a>. Tamil activists march through London, demanding accountability for the <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/5/19/grim-reminder-sri-lankas-tamils-mark-15-years-since-end-of-civil-war" target="_blank">massacres in Mullivaikkal</a>. Kashmiri protests in Washington and New York refuse to let India’s crackdown slip into diplomatic amnesia.
For host countries, these movements pose uncomfortable questions. Freedom of expression collides with fears of extremism. Clashes erupt between communities carrying wounds that their new homelands.
Meanwhile, South Asian states pursue their adversaries across borders. India faces allegations of <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/canada-says-india-home-minister-ordered-campaign-against-sikh-activist-rcna177972" target="_blank">targeting Sikh activists for assassination in Canada</a> and the <a href="https://www.npr.org/2024/10/27/g-s1-29561/sikh-separatist-assassination-india" target="_blank">United States</a>. Pakistan continues to court Kashmiri separatists abroad while crushing Baloch dissent at home. <a href="https://apnews.com/article/sri-lanka-tamils-civil-war-dead-5b372b0bba567837c5a4d94250040e7d" target="_blank">Sri Lanka</a> lobbies furiously to brand Tamil diaspora organisations as fronts for terrorism, even as it stonewalls investigations into its own wartime atrocities.
The old insurgencies have not been defeated. They have been globalised. South Asia’s governments have long mistaken silence for stability.
In Punjab, India broke the back of the <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2023/10/06/india/india-canada-sikh-khalistan-analysis-intl-hnk/index.html" target="_blank">Khalistan insurgency</a> through brute force. The fields grew green again, the trains ran on time. But the wounds were never closed, the <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/why-is-indias-khalistan-separatist-movement-on-the-rise/a-65081729" target="_blank">movement’s heart beats</a> not in Amritsar but in Brampton and Surrey.
In Sri Lanka, the <a href="https://www.academia.edu/4738983/The_Man_Who_Destroyed_Eelam" target="_blank">military crushed the Tamil Tigers</a> with <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2011/01/17/death-of-the-tiger" target="_blank">overwhelming brutality in 2009</a>. <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/politics/article/3264148/we-want-our-children-back-sri-lankan-families-still-demanding-justice-their-missing-loved-ones" target="_blank">Tamil families still search for their missing</a>, still mourn their dead – and still organise across the diaspora for justice that remains undelivered.
In Kashmir, Delhi boasts of new <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/opinions/2023/2/4/kashmir-is-bleeding-its-economy" target="_blank">highways and investment corridors</a>, showcasing the region as a trophy of unity. But when the visitors leave and the cameras are packed away, <a href="https://harvardlawreview.org/print/vol-134/from-domicile-to-dominion-indias-settler-colonial-agenda-in-kashmir/" target="_blank">the checkpoints, the raids, and the quiet despair remain.</a>
Victory parades fade. Grievance endures. Suppressing insurgency may end battles. It does not end the ideas that fueled them. In a region where <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/23/world/asia/kashmir-attack-india-pakistan.html" target="_blank">history is rarely past</a>, and memory is rarely voluntary, states that rule through repression are only ever buying time. And often, not very much.
South Asia’s unfinished wars are not accidents. They are the inevitable consequences of states that confuse conquest with consent, and erasure with reconciliation. They cannot legislate memory out of existence.
Every <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c15qyyzz89lo" target="_blank">disappeared son in Balochistan</a>, every <a href="https://medium.com/the-wvoice/the-half-widows-in-kashmir-fef80c6b88e9" target="_blank">half-widow in Kashmir</a>, every <a href="https://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/what-we-do/focus/rohingya-refugee-crisis" target="_blank">refugee child born stateless in a Rohingya camp</a> carries forward the memory of betrayal – a memory that outlives soldiers, politicians, and peace accords alike.
The region’s future will not be decided by GDP figures or infrastructure projects alone. It will be decided by whether its governments can summon the political courage to face the truths they have long suppressed – or whether they will continue down a path <a href="https://theconversation.com/india-is-using-the-g20-summit-to-further-its-settler-colonial-ambitions-in-kashmir-205166" target="_blank">where forgetting is demanded</a>, and rebellion becomes inevitable.
Shyam Tekwani is a professor at the Daniel K. Inouye Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies in Hawaii. This <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/nexus_articles/ghosts-at-the-border-south-asias-unfinished-wars/" target="_blank">article</a> was originally published on <a href="https://dkiapcss.edu/security-nexus/" target="_blank">DKI APCSS Security Nexus.</a> The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of DKI APCSS, the Department of Defense, or the US Government. The appearance of external hyperlinks does not constitute endorsement by the United States Department of Defense (DoD) of the linked websites, or the information, products, or services contained therein. DoD does not exercise any editorial, security, or other control over the information you may find at these sites.

Balochistan to Kashmir

Most Nepalis thought they had seen the last of it after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/11-56-25-april-2015-wkc9q2an">the 25 April 7.8 magnitude </a>earthquake ten years ago. But the Himalaya had more surprises in store. On 12 May, another 7.3 magnitude tremor that some said was an aftershock, but was strong enough to itself be a major earthquake, struck Dolakha.&nbsp; Not many people had heard of Singati till then — a cluster of houses by the Tama Kosi River along a narrow gorge that is the roadhead to Rolwaling Valley.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250508110520_57b6e316656851f71eca56ca6f98d9bbcc820c1a00d62af3c990725b4361244d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250508110520_016534fb2b6a79957402281cda768efb83a146786377e39e11df3e251d37159e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  It was here that dozens were killed on 25 April in the first earthquake. Hundreds of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati-rising-from-rubble-rebuilding,3703">Singati survivors</a> had lined up for food and relief supplies in the morning of 12 May when the second earthquake triggered a rock slide that buried a nearby camp. At least 50 people were killed. &nbsp; Three hours later, a US Marine Corps UH-1Y Venom helicopter landed in a nearby cornfield to pick up the wounded, and flew off. The aircraft lost contact with air traffic control in Kathmandu and its wreckage was located high on Kalinchok four days later. Six American servicemen, two Nepal Army soldiers, and five wounded civilians from Singati were killed. Today, Singati bears little physical scar of the multiple tragedies that struck the town ten years ago. Most <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/bungamati-builds-back">houses have been rebuilt</a> as urban-style concrete structures, and Singati has become an economic hub on the road leading up to several hydropower plants and a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/off-the-beaten-trek-in-nepal"> popular trekking destination</a>.&nbsp; The town looks less like a village and more like a suburb of the Dolakha district headquarter of Charikot, 47km away.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250508110520_196f341d1df1403ba133e5dfeb837eec20d7cbcb4c8c56b17cc5598810de5df2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250508110524_ae66c4a92430f67db51b5e11e017059eedfbac4cb18c8e073f2a50cca1fe904e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> </figure>  “The demand for construction material, cement, iron rods and bricks peaked after the earthquakes,” says Suresh Khadka, who owns a hardware business here and now supplies material to the 456MW Upper Tama Kosi hydropower project that is undergoing repairs after it was damaged by a landslide last year. The demand for cement boomed since most residents believe, not necessarily correctly, that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state">cement houses are safer</a>. Although Khadka did well selling construction material after the earthquake, he worries that most new structures do not follow seismic-resistant building codes.&nbsp; The construction boom financed by bank loans has in turn forced many from Singati to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/making-overseas-migration-better">migrate overseas for work</a> so they can service their debt.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250508110524_50caa4530bd5ff9120cf7ab70a62173846d337ef448ff8bac339f3faa375a9e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Suresh Khadka</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250508110520_ef8b7d3993fc3b5df852bbf952feb3fbabc96d6883b0d5eb74ee5c60f4123b83" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Phu Doma Sherpa (right)</figcaption> </figure>  “My family had no choice but to borrow money to rebuild our home since the government compensation was not enough, and ten years later we are still paying off the loan,” says Phu Doma Sherpa, 60. Because of the shortage of qualified masons and proper seismic engineering, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/structural-problems">many of the buildings are of questionable building standards </a>and the traditional architecture has been abandoned, admits Kul Bahadur Budathoki, deputy chair of the municipality. “But these buildings were more expensive than what the government grants could cover, many people here are heavily in debt and the men have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/every-day-is-closer-to-pay-day">migrated to the Gulf to pay their loans</a>,” Budathoki says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250508110520_32f89e97b7e757fc9286c0bbb671f48ea8d4468e9634fa646d7247c650ad8480" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1079" loading="lazy" alt="Climate magnifies earthquake risk in Nepal village NT"> <figcaption>Kul Bahadur Budathoki</figcaption> </figure>  Singati is in a multi-hazard zone. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Singati,3091">12 May 2015 earthquake </a>could have led to the collapse of Nepal’s largest glacial lake, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/stairway-to-heaven">Tso Rolpa</a>, upstream. Due to global warming, the glacier has turned into an expanding lake 3.5km long, and its collapse would have unleashed a catastrophic Himalayan tsunami down the Tama Kosi Valley, with Singati directly in its path. Singati has literally risen from the ashes of 2015, with its residents beginning to recover from the trauma and financial toll. But it is not out of danger as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown </a>magnifies the risk from future earthquakes.