Every year in the first month of the Tibetan calendar, devotees observe the ritual of Lo Monlam Chenmo within the holy month of Saga Dawa to mark the birth, enlightenment, and parinirvana of the Buddha. Lo Monlam Chenmo literally translates into the Great Prayer Festival of Mustang and earlier this month was observed for a week during which devotees chanted mantras over a million times for the long life and wellbeing of all sentient beings, for the continuation, survival and spread of Dharma, and for world peace.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250612090640_4d20d5af25d55ea83e6ee9784a53e689b683172433678fc9cdf1566f53a08013" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The annual prayer vigil drew 578 monks and nuns and hundreds of local people to the monastery town of Jharkot near Muktinath. The festival has been observed for over 600 years, but saw a decline in the second half of the 20th century when Monlam Chenmo was used to pray for the long life of the Dalai Lama. “Lo Monlam Chenmo was revived in Nepal seven years ago with much donation from the locals, many of whom have migrated overseas,” says Kunjon Thakuri of the Norbusum Foundation in Jharkot supporting traditional culture, local education, and the preservation of Mustangi heritage. “The festival will be held in Upper Mustang next year and again in Lower Mustang the year after, as the two regions take turns every other year.”  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250612090640_d71a82b0d6f523a482d329177d8c477ec41ead13b23fab9fa96d558a85a0b003" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  The festival is also celebrated in Tibet, parts of Nepal including Kathmandu, Ladakh and Sikkim in India as well as Bhutan. The Monlam Chenmo festival was first conducted for two weeks at the start of the new year in Tibet in 1409 by Lama Tsongkhapa to commemorate the miracles performed by Shakyamuni Buddha. The final day is the full moon which was on 11 June this week, is also called the Day of Miracles when several festivals and rituals are held.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250612090640_f46dd6637308bec26b0d9416defe9173d40b2580734b1a9b76421715d19a48bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250612090640_c96c61cd0bd46b66f28eb1f436dcee2cd95a6b368b35c3ea1a44cb131e3e17bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1607" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  “The grande finale is considered an auspicious day for prayer and practice, and good deeds on this day are multiplied exponentially,” adds Thakuri. “As such, all major Buddhist shrines including Swayambhu and Boudhanath see prayers gather from midnight on the last day. Many attempt a 21 kora clockwise circumambulation of Swayambhu on the very day, a gruelling 30km on foot. Others do a 108 circumambulation of a sacred site during the month of Saga Dawa as a way of purifying one's karma and gaining spiritual merit.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250612090640_a8f518e680714a0a2f7227ffed1c321cfa4e424a150c09c1a9ed7ec90c2ef486" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  Throughout the festival, devotees can also choose to perform their own puja including श्राद्ध, a Hindu ritual to honour deceased ancestors. Jharkot’s proximity to Muktinath also means that the festival is observed by Hindus and Buddhists alike. Devotees also abstain from killing and harming living creatures as well as practice vegetarianism for the whole month of Saga Dawa, in line with the Buddhist principle of non-violence (अहिंसा). People can also choose to make donations (दान) including drinks and food to participating monks and monasteries in acts of compassion.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250612090640_db8325c332b9f794fa84748bbfac0b59a5061f042ab6eac592f74ae6074b9835" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="2217" loading="lazy" alt="A million mantras in Mustang NT"></figure>  In many ways, the festival bears similarities to another month-long celebration observed by Newar Buddhists, primarily in Kathmandu. Gunla, which translates into the month of merits, is the tenth month in the Nepal Sambat calendar which typically falls during the monsoon. Gunla is a time for spiritual reflection on the Dharma by reciting the scriptures, fasting, playing devotional music, going on pilgrimages and attaining the five moral precepts known as the (पञ्चशील) -- abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and taking intoxicants.

A million mantras in Mustang

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TikTok is the 'Powered By' partner of Himalmedia for this year's Media Mela on 25 July that will focus on mobile-first content creation and the increasing relevance of digital platforms in journalism.&nbsp;
TikTok will conduct exclusive sessions on mobile journalism and video storytelling. Manisha Pande of Newslaundry, Anup Kaphle of Rest of World and Sundeep Narwani of Narrative Research Lab are among presenters.

TikTok powers Himal Media Mela

The Kathmandu Kora mountain biking championship around Kathmandu Valley was held on Saturday 19 July with 6,200 participants in various categories. For the first time there was also a 160km circuit. The carrier also sponsored a photography competition of the rally of which winners will be announced next week and can win roundtrip tickets to Istanbul.
Meanwhile, the Turkish Airlines flight code ‘TK’ will now be on Airlink flights on domestic and regional routes in and around South Africa, which will make for smoother connections and more efficient ticket bookings. 
 “As Turkish Airlines, we give importance to this cooperation with Airlink so as to enhance our connectivity in South Africa and the region. We aim to improve our partnership to maximize the travel opportunities offered to our guests” said Turkish Airlines Chief Investment &amp; Strategy Officer Levent Konukcu.

Turkish Kora, Airlink

Minister of Finance Bishnu Paudel launched the Asian Development Bank’s Country Partnership Strategy for Nepal 2025–2029 that includes promoting private sector–led growth, boosting youth employment, and strengthening environmental sustainability and climate and disaster resilience.

ADB Nepal plan

The past, the present, and the future are really one: they are today. -Harriet Beecher Stowe  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024122609120_5c63a3201a7231b9334f98a3a1af867acfc1264e29fc3081810a565a270bde6f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2700" height="2700" loading="lazy" alt="Miss Moti #1241"> </figure>

The past, the present, and the future are really one

People who were 25 in 2000 when Nepali Times was launched are now 50.
Nepal has gone from monarchy to republic, from war to peace, but a lot has remained the same — same politicians in the same politics.
Our 25th anniversary Rewind Supplement (page A-L) in this edition shows that the more things change in this country, the more they remain the same. Nepal languishes and muddles along despite its enormous human capital and natural resources.
Nepali Times content has adapted to new English reading habits: it is less text-heavy, more visual, with better graphics. But issue #1271 does not look much different from #1: the same masthead and design, the same comprehensive coverage, and high quality printing and production values have been maintained for 25 years.
An entire generation has grown older reading this paper, joined now by a new cohort of younger readers. They are assured of consistently high quality journalism on Fridays and online to explain, interpret and analyse what is happening and what to expect. It is content with context.
Journalism is history in a hurry, and this is even more true in the age of social media, the great amplifier. Marshall McLuhan's 'the medium is the message' has never been truer.&nbsp;
Social media is an important tool for dissemination, significantly increasing access to information for everyone. But it is also a breeding ground for disinformation, online bullying, and hate speech.
In countries around the world, populist leaders have weaponised social media to silence critics to the point where the truth is drowned out by lies, disempowering people and paralysing democracy. We are better informed than ever before, but this has not resulted in knowledge and wisdom, &nbsp;tolerance and understanding.&nbsp;
In the midst of all this, there is growing public distrust of the media itself as it is slandered on the social web, pressured by political and corporate interests. You would expect this in authoritarian states, but it is now happening in democracies with elected rulers.
When journalists should be the vanguard to protect freedom, the media industry itself is in crisis with falling revenue and distraction from devices. The independence of a financially fragile media is being further compromised, its public service mandate undermined.
There is no choice but for newsrooms to reinvent ourselves: experiment with new revenue models, reorient content to engage and involve the new generation. This does not mean leaving it up to the algorithm to give them only what they like and agree with, but equip citizens with the information they need to make informed choices.
We journalists are creatures of habit. We like our facts, but we like our routine more. Journalists, mainstream or otherwise, need to be constantly updating themselves, not only on matters of the state but adapt to the new tools and technologies. We have to be on the platforms where our readers are, and learn to use the same tools that they are using.&nbsp;
Instead of fearing for our jobs because of AI, we have to learn to harness its ability to do repetitive or time-saving newsroom chores. AI is not and should not be about content generation, but finding ways to reach our target audience.
This frees up time for journalists to do journalism: investigate, hold power to account, call out malpractice and wrongdoing, while commending good work. This will help us maintain credibility and trust, our most valuable assets. Fact-checking should not be a fad, it is part and parcel of journalism.
For us at Nepali Times, this 25th anniversary is a milestone and a time to plan for the decades ahead. It is time to look back at the last 25 years, and to look ahead at where Nepal could be (or should be) in the next 25.&nbsp;
As we report on page 1 and 4-5, the prognosis for 2050 is not very good unless governance, accountability and transparency are improved. There is no silver bullet for this, it will come from the political will of a new generation of young leaders with the vision to overhaul the way this country is ruled. And that will depend most importantly on electoral reform — informed citizens electing representatives who show integrity and vision.
It has been a turbulent journey in Nepal for the last 25 years, and Nepali Times has tried to chronicle the highs and lows with honesty and fairness.&nbsp;
As the current Editor, I would like to thank all my predecessors and current colleagues for bringing us to this point.
Sonia Awale

Moving with the times

Sagar Tamang first met Laxmi Tamang in video calls between Malaysia and Pokhara. He was working as a security guard in Malaysia, and had sent her a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/facebook-nation">Facebook </a>request. Before long, between messages and calls, they were in love and planning a future together. Laxmi could see it clearly: after six years Sagar would <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/diaspora-diaries/migrant-worker-returns-to-create-work-at-home">return home</a> to Sankuwasabha, they would get married and have children, live in the home that Sagar had built, and she would open up her tailoring shop with Sagar’s savings from abroad. But Sagar revealed that he was experiencing shortness of breath and his legs had begun to swell. She pleaded with him to come back, but he would only return after his roadside property back home was built. Sagar’s parents had already built a new house with his income and were planning another nearby. The symptoms worsened over time, prompting Sagar to eventually consult a doctor. Both his <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/A-mysterious-rash-of-kidney-failures,3639">kidneys had completely failed</a>. A seemingly healthy, energetic 28-year-old suddenly turned into a dialysis patient. Sagar lived with his mother, father, five sisters and four brothers in Sankuwasabha, and the family depended entirely on a piece of land they farmed. An older brother left home to seek work elsewhere but that was not enough. So, after just finishing Grade 10 Sagar decided on an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">overseas job</a>. He arrived <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-malaysia-nepal-migrant-scam-nexus">in Malaysia</a> at just 20, saddled with loans, and an immense pressure to raise the economic status of his family. But upon arrival, he found that he would be working in agriculture, not as a security guard as per his contract. Toiling for 11 hours in the sun every day, he felt worn down and disillusioned with the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/push-factors-driving-nepalis-out?fbclid=IwAR0Og_Lv1SMmn69MAkgqu1Ywu8IoLuB_v9KpnjG2F8PR-OAOCDvL6kLoKlk_aem_AX_Vm0Bo8vLUzR_RAr8GpJ8dDX53u8v0zPMP1GzR590UiMfz5jHkg7k14WF5cAQOHwY"> promise of life abroad</a>. His living situation, made up of a tightly regulated, crowded compound with other migrant workers, was no better. Only when he heard the distorted voice of his mother through his flip phone did Sagar find a sense of solace. Over the next two years, Sagar developed friendships with other Nepalis working with him, and eventually accepted that his life abroad was nearly permanent. He planned to stay aboard at least 10 years. And after writing a letter to his company, he was able to successfully switch to security guard work. Although the hours were longer, it beat the difficult manual labour Sagar was previously forced to complete for a meagre salary. Sagar fell into a routine he thought he would follow for the next eight years: get ready, go to work, return to the compound, and call Laxmi before going to sleep. But two years ago, his health reached a breaking point, and he had to return to Nepal for dialysis. Upon his arrival, he was rushed to Bir Hospital for immediate treatment. To this day, Sagar has never stepped foot inside the houses his family built with his overseas earnings. Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating"> Dirty, Dangerous, Difficult ... and Dehydrating</a>, Pinki Sris Rana <h2>Dialectics of dialysis</h2>  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051509054_5b8972cf42e1d1ae531b7d32c0492380964f065432a8dd0a7e41674b7160b266.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025051509054_5b8972cf42e1d1ae531b7d32c0492380964f065432a8dd0a7e41674b7160b266" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dying to work overseas NT"><figcaption>HARD LABOUR: Sagar Tamang in a dialysis session at the National Kidney Centre in Kathmandu (right) after both his kidneys failed while working abroad in harsh conditions.</figcaption></figure>  It is estimated that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/dirty-dangerous-difficult-and-dehydrating" target="_blank">one in four </a>Nepali kidney patients is a returnee migrant. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/A-mysterious-rash-of-kidney-failures,3639" target="_blank">Factors </a>such as excessive heat, dehydration, and unhealthy diets can lead to chronic kidney disease, including kidney failure. Many returnees head straight to a dialysis bed in Kathmandu instead of taking the first bus home. In dialysis wards across the country, scores of young men under 40 sit in hospital beds, unable to work or earn for their families anymore. Many remain in debt for treatment, or have had to relocate to seek care. For patients with no source of reliable income, even finding a willing landlord to rent out a room in the capital can be almost impossible without the right connections. However, Sagar’s cousin, who had also developed chronic kidney disease while working abroad and had moved to Kathmandu from Sankhuwasaba for dialysis, took him in. Laxmi finally met Sagar two months later. She found it hard to hold back tears whenever she saw his face. She was able to stay with her brother in Bhaktapur for some time, but eventually the couple decided to marry. Laxmi’s mother and sisters urged her to put off the marriage until Sagar had completed a kidney transplant. The couple eloped. Two days after their marriage, Laxmi’s family called them to come to their home in Nagarkot to celebrate. Now, the couple lives in a rented house near the National Kidney Centre with other dialysis patients and their families. Sagar walks to his dialysis session three times a week. In this house, there is a sense of solidarity among patients, and Laxmi especially feels a comfort knowing that her neighbours understand her position as the wife and caretaker of a dialysis patient. Members of the house cook for each other, help with transport to the hospital, and sometimes even <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-disaster-strikes-home">lend money</a>. So far, Sagar has used his savings from abroad to pay for the direct and indirect costs of his treatment. However, the money is running out as the couple grapples with the city’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/is-free-health-care-possible-in-nepal?fb_comment_id=3363039693768713_5667191770020149">cost of living and medical bills</a>. The government offers free lifetime haemodialysis for patients, but the Rs5,000 monthly allowance does not come consistently, in full, or just never comes at all despite repeated requests to the patient’s municipal office. Those receiving treatment in the Kathmandu Valley also access medicine through Bhaktapur’s Shahid Dharmabhakta National Transplant Centre (SDNTC), but under the hospital’s insurance are required to pay for 10% of the cost.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025051509058_2001d2b6d07ca8406575bd1c89f714b5b224d64bf25437b55bda0e21475fdbc4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2025051509058_2001d2b6d07ca8406575bd1c89f714b5b224d64bf25437b55bda0e21475fdbc4" data-rendition-name="original" width="2773" height="4160" loading="lazy" alt="Dying to work overseas"><figcaption>Sagar with his wife Laxmi in Pokhara.</figcaption></figure>  Once his family’s primary earner, Sagar can no longer make or send money due to his condition. His family runs a goat and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/are-you-sick-of-chicken">poultry farm</a>, but has been forced to take loans to stay afloat and cannot send money for Sagar’s treatment. Until recently, Laxmi worked 12 hours a day as a tailor and house cleaner. Sagar, his mother and Laxmi, have been making trips to SDNTC in preparation for his transplant. In Nepal, only relatives or the spouse of the patient are allowed to be donors for their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/saving-kidneys-to-save-nepal">kidney transplant</a>. This can be debilitating for patients whose families are unwilling or unable to donate due to pre-existing health issues such as hypertension or diabetes. Wives and mothers are the most likely demographic to donate to a male patient. Due to Sagar’s inability to come home and officiate his marriage it is yet to be recognised by the municipality, making Laxmi an ineligible donor. After finding out his father’s blood type did not match and refusing his younger sister’s offer to give her kidney, he and his mother decided that they could start the transplant process together. Even Nepal’s prime minister K P Oli has had a double kidney transplant, but for those who cannot find a donor within the family, the remaining years of life is measured by the humming and erratic beeps of a dialysis machine three times a week. It is going to be a lengthy and expensive process, but it is the only hope for Sagar. And what are his immediate plans after a successful transplant? To return home, to finally see his siblings, father, neighbours and friends, he tells us. He has seen his father once since his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">return to Nepal</a>, but has not seen his siblings since he left for Malaysia. They have not visited him in Kathmandu yet, but he hopes that they will before his transplant. The couple believes that after his transplant, anything is possible: finally getting their marriage recognised, opening up a tailoring shop, having children, building a life in Sankuwashaba. Laxmi strongly objects to Sagar ever leaving Nepal again, but he remains open to the idea.

Dying to work overseas

A plate of momo filled with spiced meat served with an achar or jhol is often the go-to order after flipping through the multi page menus at Kathmandu’s eateries.&nbsp; In many ways Momo is the perfect meal: ubiquitous, affordable, quick, filling, fresh, and healthier than other fast food. &nbsp; Making the dumplings from scratch is fun, too. Momo parties require much labour but they bring families and friends together as each member takes responsibility for one of the steps: prepping the filling, rolling out the dough, cutting out circles, or blending the all-important sauce.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090524_8820f29eec104a6921e1273bf518f0656af604568bc68093e36f43fe8ecc51fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250516090524_8820f29eec104a6921e1273bf518f0656af604568bc68093e36f43fe8ecc51fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1001" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> <figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  This is where mastery of the vital skill of momo-folding can set you apart. And momo parties abroad can bring together long lost friends amid much nostalgia. Prashanta Khanal has two entries for momos in Timmur, his cookbook of dishes from across Nepal. One is momo-cha (‘dumplings with a buffalo meat filling and served with soupy jhol achaar made from sesame seeds and soybeans’). The other is the longer momo, often called Tibetan style. &nbsp; “The momo seems to have come to Kathmandu around the 17th century, when the long standing India-Nepal-Tibet trade route got more organised,” says Khanal. “At first, only trader families in the Valley made momo. They became wildly popular only about four decades ago, after they started being sold commercially.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090524_92d5ab4d34dccdbe592895fede973981f9021f864865d5be7f50c6a30e7d07d1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250516090524_92d5ab4d34dccdbe592895fede973981f9021f864865d5be7f50c6a30e7d07d1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> </figure>  Khanal reckons that momo was initially just a food of the valley, and he credits refugees from Tibet starting in the 1950s for spreading the food beyond the valley.&nbsp; Legend has it that dumplings were invented in northwestern China about 1,800 years ago by Zhang Zhongjing, a prominent physician in the eastern Han dynasty (25-220 AD). The legend goes that Zhongjing created ear-shaped dumplings to cure frostbitten ears, when he wrapped minced lamb, black pepper, and herbs in dough scraps. Eating these ‘Jiaozi’ would cure the patient by improving blood circulation.&nbsp; The food then spread through the region, through present-day China, Mongolia, and Tibet, and were actually already called momo. Each place developed its own variation. “The Mongolian momo has mutton or lamb, uses minimal spices, and is served not with sauce but with butter tea” explains Khanal, “and the Tibetan momo contains sheep, yak or mountain goat.”&nbsp; The Chinese retained a distinctive style of dumplings called dim sum. And when Newari traders brought the momo to Kathmandu, it was customised for local taste and ingredients. The strongly spiced buffalo meat is unique to the Valley. “Sherpa momos are usually spiced lightly, usually just with ginger, garlic and onion,” adds Khanal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090524_7e9d7e122c2bd64b248714e09aea84f9713eda930b563a3805aa642b79eb1918.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250516090524_7e9d7e122c2bd64b248714e09aea84f9713eda930b563a3805aa642b79eb1918" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> </figure>  Khanal has several recommendations for momos in Kathmandu: “Jazz Upstairs in Lazimpat has very juicy momos, and there is a store called Moti Didi Ko Momo in Thamel that is spiced mildly and comes with a cooked tomato achaar.”&nbsp; Some of the more unique vegetarian fillings can be found in the khuwa momos in Baneswor, the spinach-cheese momos at Shambala Cafe in Boudha, and sun-dried turnip-green momos in Mustang. Here are some other momo spots inside Ring Road that scored highest in a Nepali Times online survey: &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Cafe ‘97 (Sanepa)</h2> This is an understated eatery with pictures of the Annapurna range and faded lanterns as decor. A plate of steamed buff momo is Rs160 and takes about 15 minutes from freezer to steamer in the open kitchen, and to the table. Ten momo come arranged around a small bowl of a spicy thin achar that does not stick to the momo but tastes good. 7.2/10.&nbsp; <h2>Akabare Jhol Momo (Dhobighat) &nbsp;</h2> Akabare Jhol Momo is a franchise with branches in Dhobighat, Baneswor, Putali Sadak and more. The name references the famous Mughal and the Nepali idiom about not needing to peddle a quality product with super potent chillies. Despite ‘Jhol Momo’ in the name, the Dhobighat branch also has choila, bara, biryani in the menu. A plate of chicken jhol momo is Rs170 and you are even offered a choice of warm or cold jhol, plus tomato achar and a dry chili condiment. The momo is very good and the jhol tasting of toasted sesame seeds could even stand alone as a soup. 8.6/10.&nbsp; <h2>Drop In (Bhanimandal)&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090516_c95bd4d0236e31b23f4254703d55059fe60a67b5f8dcc9d573b36249bfdab270.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250516090516_c95bd4d0236e31b23f4254703d55059fe60a67b5f8dcc9d573b36249bfdab270" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> <figcaption>Photos: VISHAD RAJ ONTA</figcaption> </figure>  Drop In is a hallowed momo spot up a flight of stairs that lead to two small rooms near the Bhanimandal basketball court. A plate of pork momo costs Rs200 and comes with 12 dumplings, not ten. The elongated momo are accompanied by a generous bowl of orange achar in which you can mix in toasted dry chili pickle or green chili vinegar. While they could be more generous with the filling, the dough is thin and the momo are light and feel authentic Tibetan. 9.4/10. &nbsp; <h2>Narayan Dai ko Masangalli Ko Momo (Patan Darbar Square)&nbsp;</h2> Narayan Dai ko Masangalli Ko Momo is another popular momo-cha chain. This branch is tucked into the entrance into Patan Darbar Square from Mangal Bazaar. Seating is at low tables on tree stump stools, and a plate of buff momo is Rs180. Perhaps this was an off day, but the jhol left stuff to be desired and filling carried too much whiff of buff. Don’t know who Narayan Dai was, but he would probably have set things right. 5.1/10.&nbsp; <h2>Nice Momo (Pulchok)&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090516_88f6e60282d8be90fb16b0643cfe1f9d455de65ac2e2439f54bcc51a2bb40a54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250516090516_88f6e60282d8be90fb16b0643cfe1f9d455de65ac2e2439f54bcc51a2bb40a54" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1201" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> </figure>  This den behind Labim Mall has a rather shady ambience but there is outside seating too. A plate of chicken momo is Rs180, served up quick, and they are very light and almost sweet. There are two sauces, a red tomato achar and a darker red hot sauce. 7.6/10.&nbsp; <h2>House of Momo (Tripureswor)&nbsp;</h2> The House of Momo is a stall on the ground floor of the United World Trade Center Mall. The solo lady running the stall instantly serves up a plate of chicken momo for Rs150 in a leaf bowl. There are two strong achar, mild and hot. While the filling is bland and the momo falls apart on the fork, the sauces and the convenience sort of make up for it. 7.1/10 <h2>Tas and Sekuwa Mahal (Teku)&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090520_fadd2362d613bc1449c92998fe51b1d5ab667af2f4a17fccdeea274c7355180f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250516090520_fadd2362d613bc1449c92998fe51b1d5ab667af2f4a17fccdeea274c7355180f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco NT"> </figure>  It may not be the best idea to order momo at a place called Tas and Sekuwa Mahal, but it has a mutton momo on the menu at Rs280. Many plates of tas leave the kitchen before the momo are ready, which come with a peanut and a tomato achar. The mutton filling is chewy and dense, but with the spices it is pretty hard to tell apart from buff except for a slight aftertaste. 6.1/10.&nbsp; <h2>Bakery Cafe (Baneswor) &nbsp;</h2> The Bakery Cafe is a classic momo spot with a mascot of a man with a giant momo head, and staff wearing ‘I &lt;3 MOMOS’ t-shirts. This Baneswar branch has a huge interior with many unfilled seats, eerie compared to the bustling rallies and bus stop right outside. Get your momo any way you like: veg, buff, chicken, pork, mutton. Eight, ten or twelve-piece, steamed, Tibetan, T.S. Fried, C, jhol.&nbsp; The quality of the momo is undeniable. The filling has a perfect flavour and the two sauces complement each other and stick to the dumpling, which also holds up when you take a bite. But Rs350+ for an eight-piece chicken plate is above market rates. 8.7/10 <h2>Swadista Momo (Patan Dhoka)&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250516090516_8f8ab76fb12fcae799be632ab1a98d6ca2f058cbd060756e3e84c4d0191998ee.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250516090516_8f8ab76fb12fcae799be632ab1a98d6ca2f058cbd060756e3e84c4d0191998ee" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1063" loading="lazy" alt="Momo Loco"> </figure>  Located just past Patan Dhoka, a plate of buff is only Rs140 at Swadista and almost always instant, and a plate of chicken is on the cheaper side at Rs150 and takes about five more minutes to arrive. The best part is the three excellent jhol choices: the standard beige soybean-sesame, an orange tomato and a fiery red chili. The trick is to create a small opening in the momo skin and let the soup seep through. 8.7/10.&nbsp; <h2>Shandar Momo (Old Baneswor)&nbsp;</h2> Shandar Momo was recently in the news for tragic reasons. Its Baneswor branch looks small from the outside but opens into a large area, busy with both dine-in eaters and many takeouts being prepared. A plate of buff is only Rs145, and comes in a sectioned plate where you can separate different sauces. The place lives up to its ‘Shandar’ name, with a wonderfully spiced momo and toasty jhol with a distinct pleasant cardamom flavour that can be addictive. 7.9/10 <h2>Ghangri Cafe (Jhamsikhel)</h2> Ghangri Cafe’s signature open top momo is served with a trio of tomato, peanut and vinegar achar. The open top lets you experiment with different combinations of condiments poured straight into the filling. While deviating from the momo norm quite a bit, and expensive at Rs375 for a plate of open chicken steamed, the gimmick works and makes for an engaging, unique experience. 9.0/10.&nbsp;

MOMO LOCO

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The<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof"> flood on the Bhote Kosi</a> on Tuesday morning was a timely reminder about the risks Himalayan communities face from melting permafrost and glaciers, as well as the need for transboundary early warning. In the spring of 2024, I visited the Kanchenjunga Conservation Area (KCA) again. While in the village of Kampuchen (4,145) I visited Nupu Sherpa, friend and owner of the Kampuchen White House Lodge, to share <a href="https://tc.copernicus.org/articles/18/711/2024/">a new paper we had just published</a> about a massive ice-debris avalanche that had occurred in 2022 in the upper Nupchu valley. Although Nupu was interested in the results and implications of the avalanche, he was even more concerned about the recent and rapid development of several large, pro-glacial lakes upon the terminus of the Kanchenjunga glacier, an hour walk north of Kampuchen and across the seasonal yak pasture of Ramdang Kharka (4,375m).&nbsp; Like many high altitude, low gradient glaciers in the Himalaya, those in the Kanchenjunga region had shrunk to mere shadows of their former selves during the previous 125 years, leaving behind debris-covered remnant ice and small meltwater ponds.&nbsp; Nupu’s fear was that the lakes might soon coalesce to form a large and potentially dangerous glacial lake. Given a large enough trigger, such as a massive landslide or avalanche, a glacial lake outburst flood (GLOF) could result that could damage Kampuchen, Ghunsa, Phale, the Kangchenjunga Base Camp trail, and even beyond to the lower Tamor into India.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071204070_31e28d1fd0f5a976ad96fc5597cc386586d7de5b7d9714835d5b479104209fed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071204070_31e28d1fd0f5a976ad96fc5597cc386586d7de5b7d9714835d5b479104209fed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1635" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>The Kanchenjunga Conservation Area (KCA), eastern Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Since I was on my way to the village of Lhonak (4,792m) I stopped to take a look at the new lakes. Sure enough, from a lookout point on the lateral moraine of the Kanchenjunga Glacier I could see as many as ten newly formed and growing meltwater ponds upon the terminal moraine region of the glacier.&nbsp; The prospect was reminiscent of early satellite images taken of Imja Glacier in 1962 by the French, showing a number of meltwater ponds that within 15 years had grown and merged into a glacial lake half a square kilometer in size and containing 45 million cubic meters of water. Ten years after that Imja had grown to more than a square kilometer in size, was at least 120 m deep, and contained an estimated, and growing, 90 million cubic meters of water. Would the same scenario play out for the lower Kanchenjunga Glacier? To try and understand the situation better, glaciologist Sonam Wangchuk of ICIMOD put together a time series composite of lake development over time, from 2016 to 2024, where it was clear that the majority of the new lakes had only formed since 2019.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071204078_c65a5ec574a251489c502f3efdf842033e0d238fd57947f7eee2c5793aac2a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071204078_c65a5ec574a251489c502f3efdf842033e0d238fd57947f7eee2c5793aac2a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="602" height="686" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Time-lapse satellite images of glacial lake development from 2016 to present. Animation of the process can be seen at https://www.mdpi.com/article/10.3390/w17101457/s1.</figcaption> </figure>  Sonam Rinzin of Newcastle University estimated the potential depth and volume of the future glacier lake using standard procedures based upon the surface slope of the Kanchenjunga Glacier combined with volume-area curves for similar glacial lakes, estimating that the future lake would have a volume of approximately 33 million cubic meters of water and depth of more than 116 m. Other modeling methods enabled the mapping of probable ice, debris, and/or rock avalanches into the lake that could trigger a GLOF.&nbsp; A third model was then used to simulate four different avalanche scenarios that could trigger a GLOF: from small (debris avalanche of 3 million cubic meters) to the worst case (15 million cubic meters) of fast-moving debris. Even under the small magnitude scenario, avalanche-triggered outburst floods would travel distances of almost 120km downstream, and under the worst-case scenario the floods would reach the Indo-Gangetic Plain and cross the border into India, damaging or destroying up to 90 buildings and 44 bridges. The prospective triggers of a future GLOF, however, are not limited to a nearby rock avalanche. A <a href="https://tc.copernicus.org/articles/11/443/2017/tc-11-443-2017.html">sudden release of water</a> from water-filled caves further up the glacier could trigger a surge wave capable of breaching the terminal moraine complex holding in the lake water.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040716_20ed87368a9ac416b5d0232cf8e02211195ca6bc9fff960a1f7e43a95bdfbbf9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250712040716_20ed87368a9ac416b5d0232cf8e02211195ca6bc9fff960a1f7e43a95bdfbbf9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1621" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools"> <figcaption>Theoretical Kangchenjunga glacial lake of the future (blue) contained by a front moraine (purple) with a flood possibly triggered by a massive rock avalanche (red).</figcaption> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">Weakening permafrost</a> at the highest altitudes could result in massive ice-debris avalanches, such as those believed to have triggered recent and catastrophic floods in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">Seti River</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Barun Khola</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/non-climate-cause-of-nanda-devi-flood">Chamoli</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak lake</a>, and Tuesday’s Bhote Kosi flood in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">Rasuwa</a>. Weakening and eventual collapse of the terminal moraine complex through sub-surface piping could also result in an outburst flood. And a range of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">cascading processes</a> currently unknown to scientists could trigger a flood as well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040712_76336a4597c08dd735e57b09ae9840b6bd3d89c85907bb39424d9e6f3163581e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250712040712_76336a4597c08dd735e57b09ae9840b6bd3d89c85907bb39424d9e6f3163581e" data-rendition-name="original" width="740" height="565" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Jannu glacier in 1899. Note how the level of the debris-covered glacier reached the top of the lateral moraines over a hundred years ago. Photo: V. SELLA</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250712040712_707dd365923a002e889c64a88796b445695ea9ca692ec639179bc70217ed63c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250712040712_707dd365923a002e889c64a88796b445695ea9ca692ec639179bc70217ed63c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="5184" height="3888" loading="lazy" alt="Meltpools in the Himalaya"> <figcaption>Jannu glacier in 2022. The remaining debris-covered glacier is now several hundred meters below the crests of the lateral moraines. Photo: E. BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  But will a large and potentially dangerous glacial actually form at the Kanchenjunga glacier? There’s really no way to tell at this point, although the rapid development of lakes since 2016 is a strong indicator that a large lake is in the process of forming. And rather than wait and see, our current uncertainty does not diminish the need for a more proactive approach to the development of a large glacial lake at some point in the near future. For example, the lower Kanchenjunga Glacier clearly needs to be regularly monitored over the coming years to keep track of glacial lake growth and potential hazards. This could be done by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM), ICIMOD, or Kathmandu University with results regularly shared with local people and local governments.&nbsp; In fact, such a service could be developed into a program that is offered to other communities throughout highland Nepal who experience similar situations of glacial lake development, growth, and prospective danger, especially since most communities presently feel that they have no one to turn to for similar information. Inexpensive, locally appropriate, user-friendly early warning systems (EWS) need to be developed for the Kanchenjunga region now, instead of waiting for a tragedy to happen. While the different options and costs are being assessed, the installation of new cell towers in the upper Ghunsa Khola would assure that local residents have access to one of the most effective and proven EWS systems available: cell phones, combined with a lake level monitoring device that broadcasts data and connects to cell phone alarm systems.&nbsp; For example, hundreds of lives were saved when upstream witnesses called their family and friends downstream to warn them of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti River flood</a> near Pokhara in 2014. New zoning policies that prohibit the construction of lodges and other infrastructure in high-risk floodplain regions need to be developed now. Where the infrastructure already exists, villages should be encouraged to install gabion rock-filled wire cages along susceptible river channel or river interfaces to divert the flow of water during a flood event, a method used successfully in both highland and riverine Nepal. Local and national hazard training and response programs need to be developed now. Several examples of excellent programs developed by different organisations in the upper Khumbu region exist that provide excellent models, such as those tested by the US Agency for International Development <a href="https://www.hillarymedal.com/Khumbu-Nepal-Local-Adaptation-Plan-of-Action-%20report.pdf">(USAID) and ICIMOD</a> between 2011 and 2015. Glacial lake reduction&nbsp; Nepal was recently awarded a $36.1 million award by the Green Climate Fund (GCF) to directly confront many of hazards from glacial lake outburst floods jointly implemented by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and the DHM building on past successes at Tso Rolpa and Imja Lakes. There are some lessons learned over the past decades of field work based in Nepal and Peru: 1. The DHM wants to use the project to reduce GLOF risks in Kosi and Gandaki basins and glacial lake reduction programs are planned for Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes.&nbsp; However, the planned lowering depth for Tso Rolpa in 2000 was 20m, with the project ending once 3m lowering was achieved due to lack of funds. Imja lake, which scientists also determined needed to be lowered by at least 20m, was in fact lowered by 3m in 2016 ‘because that’s what they did at Tso Rolpa’.&nbsp; If glacial lake reduction programs are to be implemented under the GCF program they should be based upon good science, and lowered to an effective depth, otherwise the activity will be a waste of funds. <a href="https://sinia.minam.gob.pe/sites/default/files/siar-%20ancash/archivos/public/docs/usaid_glacial_lake_handbookrfs_0-ilovepdf-%20compressed_0.pdf">Peru offers experience</a> for glacial lake lowering. 2. Although large glacial lakes (more than 1sq km) will always command the most media and even scientific attention, it has become abundantly clear in recent years that even small glacial lakes can be just as deadly, given the correct sequence of cascading events, rainfall, snowmelt, and/or other triggers.&nbsp; The 2017 <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10346-018-1079-9">Barun flood</a> and September 2024 <a href="https://www.stimson.org/event/the-%20thame-glof-disaster-climate-related-disaster-risk-management-in-the-high-himalayas/">Thame flood</a> are two excellent examples. Methods for assessing the flood risk of glacial lakes will need to be revised accordingly to include many of these smaller glacial lakes as well, in addition to the 21 large lakes already considered to be dangerous. 3. Existing and expensive EWS might benefit by some consideration of cheaper, more local, and possibly more effective alternatives. In 2015, for example, <a href="https://digitalcommons.macalester.edu/himalaya/vol37/iss2/7/">villagers</a> living below Tso Rolpa complained that they had no idea how the recently installed EWS worked, what it sounded like, and what to do in the event that it went off. With improved cell service and real-time lake level monitoring apps, local people could check on the lake whenever they wished, as opposed to waiting for some kind of communication from Kathmandu. 4. The GCF grant has the opportunity to become the ‘go to’ place for communities throughout highland Nepal to report any of their concerns related to glacial lakes and/or other observed cryospheric processes. This service could facilitate local people’s ability to adapt to, mitigate, or prevent a range of climate change-related hazards largely unknown to previous generations. Alton C Byers is a faculty research scientist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR) University of Colorado at Boulder and has visited the KCA including a six-month residency in Ghunsa supported by the Fulbright Nepal Scholar Program. This article is largely based on Evolution of a Potentially Dangerous Glacial Lake on the Kanchenjunga Glacier, Nepal, Predictive Flood Models, and Prospective Community Response. <a href="https://doi.org/10.3390/w17101457">Water</a>, 2025. (Byers AC, Rinzin S, Byers E, Wangchuk S.)

Meltpools in the Himalaya

In 2023, northern India suffered record-breaking heat. In 2024, it broke its own record. In 2025, the Indo-Gangetic plains and the Nepal Tarai suffered a prolonged pre-monsoon heat wave and humidity, forcing closure of schools and workplaces. This week, <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/europe-heat-wave-intensifies-as-fresh-warnings-issued/live-73108302">southern Europe is suffering the worst heat wave</a> since temperature records began. Football matches, tennis tournaments have been affected, and tourist sites have been closed off. Qatar has ordered a midday work curfew for Nepali and other migrant workers are the maximum temperature this week touched 45°C.&nbsp; Kathmandu Valley experienced its highest temperature in 25 years in May 2024 at 35.3°C. This year, the maximum temperature exceeded 30°C on many days — heat that till a decade ago would be considered unusual. Rains in early June also meant that towns in the mountains sweltered under high heat plus humidity.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090748_6975cfc2ad573f3a09ca301a299a9e92a420da7f1c5c90b8e4d061a2053dcd3e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250703090748_6975cfc2ad573f3a09ca301a299a9e92a420da7f1c5c90b8e4d061a2053dcd3e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1935" height="801" loading="lazy" alt="maximum average temperature in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Source: DHM</figcaption> </figure>  Measuring just temperature does not give a true picture of how hot it is. When humidity is factored in, the heat index this summer has been much higher in northern India and Nepal. Also, the hotter the air temperature the higher the concentration of water vapour in it. “We feel it is getting hotter, and our statistics back that up,” says Shanti Kandel at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology, which issued two heat wave warnings this year, compared to 11 last year. “We need more research to analyse how humidity is make this situation worse.” <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-faces-alarming-30-rise-in-moist-heat-stress-over-40-years-affecting-wide-swath-of-country-imd-study/articleshow/109376863.cms?from=mdr">A recent analysis</a> by the Indian Meteorological Department has found that heat stress in that country has increased by nearly 30% over the past 40 years. Similarly, India’s Council on Energy, Environment and Water (CEEW) noted that cities like Delhi, Chandigarh, Jaipur, and Lucknow have experienced a 6-9% rise in relative humidity in the last decade.&nbsp; It also states that <a href="https://www.reuters.com/sustainability/climate-energy/majority-indian-districts-face-high-heatwave-risk-study-shows-2025-05-20/#:~:text=%22About%2057%20per%20cent%20of,usual%20number%20of%20heatwave%20days.">60% of Indian districts</a>, home to three-quarters of the country’s 1.3 billion people face a high to very high risk from extreme heat, with rising night-time temperatures and humidity. The heat index is also called ‘<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/north-indian-heat-wave-hits-nepal">wet-bulb temperature</a>’ and is a measure of how hot the human body feels when humidity levels are also high — usually much hotter than the recorded temperature. For example, a wet-bulb temperature of 35°C is considered the maximum limit of heat and humidity that humans can handle, beyond which the body cannot cool by perspiration, leading to death. One indicator of increasing humidity is a rise in average minimum temperature, and Nepal recorded the highest figure since 1981 last year, with a peak of 15.8°C. Higher minimum temperature denotes warmer nights, which in turn is an indication of heat stress caused by increasing humidity, which in turn is a result of global warming. Aside from higher average temperatures worldwide this year, what makes heat and humidity more unbearable is that cities are always hotter than their surroundings. This is due to the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/preparing-for-kathmandu-s-heat-waves">urban heat island (UHI) effect</a> – for example the temperature inside Kathmandu’s Ring Road can be hotter by <a href="https://www.epa.gov/heatislands/what-are-heat-islands">up to 4°C during the daytime and by 1 to 3°C in the evening</a> compared to the outskirts. “Climate change is one reason for rising temperature, but there are other factors like increased heat in urban spaces due to concrete buildings and infrastructure, emissions from vehicles, industries, and home appliances,” explains urban planner Bhushan Tuladhar. He adds: “Much of this comes down to how we have developed our cities, not just our roads and buildings but also our water system, waste management, culture and customs as well as economy.” There is a feedback loop at work: as it gets hotter, more energy is used for fans, coolers, and air-conditioners which in turn add to the urban heat bubble. The way to reduce the UHI effect is to have more parks, tree-lined streets and water bodies to cool cities down.&nbsp; <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S2212095525002093">A recent study published in the journal Urban Climate</a> by Nepali researchers at the University of Massachusetts, Tribhuvan University, University of Groningen, etc showed that even within Kathmandu, urban forests cooled neighbourhoods by as much as 1.2°C while ponds reduced the temperature by up to 0.85°C compared to nearby houses.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250703090748_e4de75dbdfb5fcfdeb0935eda364dc16b5dca8857ba335ab0f4586ebdc5093a9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250703090748_e4de75dbdfb5fcfdeb0935eda364dc16b5dca8857ba335ab0f4586ebdc5093a9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2580" height="1038" loading="lazy" alt="urban heat island in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Source: URBAN CLIMATE et al.</figcaption> </figure>  ‘Our results demonstrate that blue-green spaces provide significant cooling benefits across the Kathmandu Valley, with distinct patterns by type, size, design, and urban context,’ concluded the paper, whose lead author is Saurav Bhattarai at Jackson State University in the United States. The old towns in Kathmandu Valley with traditional brick and tile architecture, ponds and trees managed hot summers better. Compact houses around a courtyard gave people just the right amount of sunlight, and use of clay mortar and bricks insulated houses in winter while cooling them in summer. There were open spaces, fertile land along the floodplains for farming, and brick pavements that allowed for seepage. “Our cities were planned taking nature into account,” says Sangeeta Singh, a professor of urban planning at the Institute of Engineering. “Kathmandu Valley is now built up, but we can still reintegrate blue-blue spaces into town planning with vertical gardening, urban forestry, using local material and harvesting rainwater.”&nbsp; Kathmandu’s municipalities have by-laws controlling building design and structure, but strict enforcement of land use and zoning are missing. Extreme heat disproportionately affects the urban poor who may not have access to fans or air-conditioners, exacerbating poverty.&nbsp; Cities in the plains have it even worse. As heat and humidity rise simultaneously, it could <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/garmi-se-behal-chalo-nepal">reverse the current mass migration</a> of people from the mountains to the Tarai, where 53% of Nepal’s population lives. <a href="https://thedocs.worldbank.org/en/doc/92fbbbc6180238e18e7b239fad83e38a-0280032024/original/12-DHNT-Temperature-poverty-inequality-September-2024.pdf">A World Bank study</a> put the cost of a 1°C rise in temperature at 17.1% increase in poverty globally. Estimates put the total number of urban poor in developing countries exposed to the worst heat extremes at 26 million presently, this number is bound to grow to 215 million by mid-century, an over eight-fold increase. Meanwhile, 489,000 health-related deaths occur each year, 45% of them in Asia alone. “Heat has to be seen from a class perspective,” says Singh. “Those with money can afford gadgets and appliances to keep their homes and offices cool, but not day labourers or poor families living in cramped housing with poor ventilation.” Climate breakdown is going to widen the class divide in cities, as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/unthinkable-in-the-current-climate">summers become unliveable</a>. Says Singh: “We need policy intervention to address this class injustice. Our building by-laws and new town development must urgently integrate climate and energy efficiency elements.”

In the heat of the moment

On the afternoon of 28 May, a massive glacier avalanche destroyed the idyllic village of Blatten in the Valais region of Switzerland. Footage of the disaster rapidly circulated around the world, sparking renewed conversation about the increasing instability of the mountain cryosphere and climate-related risks. The population of nearly 300 people had been evacuated a week prior due to concerns that unstable slopes above the glacier could trigger a catastrophic event. This is remarkable, and a testament to the value of hazard monitoring and anticipatory action. Shocked by the intensity of avalanche impacts and devastating loss, people struggled to comprehend the alternative: what if the village had been full? In Nepal, the people of the Langtang Valley, survivors of a massive glacier avalanche that killed over 300 people in April 2015, know exactly what it feels like for an entire village to be <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/may/17/nepal-earthquake-langtang-village-everyone-was-dead">‘wiped off the map’</a> in a little more than a minute. The avalanche that buried the village of Langtang was similarly catastrophic, as the avalanche fell over 3,000m and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/19/world/asia/nepal-avalanche-langtang.html">carried nearly as much force as the Hiroshima atomic bomb</a>. Unfortunately, the people of Langtang had no warning. While these two disasters are quite different, there are some important connections between them. As the world contemplates the threat of increasing climate-related glacier hazards and wonders if and how Blatten will rebuild, I would like to draw attention to the ever-present risk of similar disasters in the Himalayas, where the scale of the problem is (arguably) larger and resources are (inarguably) more limited. As events like these become increasingly common, we need to build monitoring and <a href="https://www.undrr.org/implementing-sendai-framework/sendai-framework-action/early-warnings-for-all">early warning systems for all</a> at-risk communities. We also need more comparative analysis of the ways mountain people make sense of climate-related risks, particularly around wicked questions like hazard zoning and resettlement or relocation. How do institutions determine where to invest in hazard monitoring and early warning systems? Who gets to decide where people can rebuild, what kind of risks are ‘acceptable’, or whose uncertainties matter? As a survivor of the Langtang disaster and an applied anthropologist, this is not a thought exercise for me. I spent more than two years working with the Langtangpa community as a volunteer, and the last ten years conducting research focused on the aftermath of the Langtang avalanche and the ways people cope with disaster and climate risk in the Himalayan region. Since late 2022, I have been <a href="https://www.stimson.org/project/early-warning-systems-for-cascading-disasters-in-nepal/">working with the Stimson Center </a>to consider how we might build systems to assess and monitor the changing risks of cascading hazards in the Himalayan region. As the Swiss and a range of international organizations consider how they might provide warning for other Alpine villages living beneath glaciers, we need to expand the conversation to consider the many Himalayan villages that are similarly at-risk. The question of climate causality currently haunts the Blatten disaster -- just as it has for other similar events in recent years, including the Langtang avalanche. While attribution is incredibly complicated, many scientists have already highlighted the ways that melting permafrost and loss of seasonal snowcover and glacial mass created instability in the overall system above the Birch Glacier on Kleines Nesthorn. Not all glaciers are receding. In Blatten, recurring slope failures had also been piling debris on the glacier slowly over the years, pushing the ‘glacier tongue’ forward and weakening its integrity – and this acceleration attracted attention and focused monitoring. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:7334623807573278721/">A recent post from Christian Huggel, a leading cryosphere scientist based at University of Zurich</a> examined these details and clearly stated: “Considering all these processes it would be absurd, ignorant or dishonest to state that anthropogenic warming has not played any role in the ice-rock avalanche disaster in <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/search/results/all/?keywords=%23blatten&amp;origin=HASH_TAG_FROM_FEED">Blatten</a>. Interestingly, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2025/jun/01/this-is-ground-zero-for-blatten-the-tiny-swiss-village-engulfed-by-a-mountain">other scientists have indicated that “exact attribution is almost beside the point.”</a> Tellingly, it took almost ten years for formal scientific recognition (see <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s43247-024-01624-z">this Nature paper published in 2024</a>) in part because it was seismically triggered, overshadowing the climate-related signal.That said, many Langtangpa highlighted these connections immediately after the disaster, as many are doing in Blatten right now. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-courage-and-endurance-of-the-langtangpa">My friends in Langtang have spent the last ten years rebuilding their lives</a> while wondering if another event of this magnitude might be possible.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250607140612_5ccfd4786416a151e1c2d44f79add3c196da34e1c30af9188de10982b45d72f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250607140612_5ccfd4786416a151e1c2d44f79add3c196da34e1c30af9188de10982b45d72f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1250" height="885" loading="lazy" alt="Blatten NT"> <figcaption>Copernicus statellite image of the avalanche that buried the village Blatten in Switzerland on 28 May, 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250607140616_306112d2eb5330d0a5117bae3fc372861afce5137b52f793285e6b1cf89ca31a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250607140616_306112d2eb5330d0a5117bae3fc372861afce5137b52f793285e6b1cf89ca31a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1733" height="1053" loading="lazy" alt="Langtang NT"> <figcaption>The deadly earthquake-triggered avalance that destroyed Langtang village in Nepal on 25 April, 2015.</figcaption> </figure>  Like the people of the Swiss Alps, the Langtangpa have been living with avalanches for centuries, and they have used both situated knowledge and practical systems to adapt to changing risks. But, in Langtang as in Blatten, the scale and impact of this singular tragedy was both unprecedented and unforeseen. Tellingly, Langtang was not a scientific hinterland: groups from a dozen different countries were conducting glaciological, hydrological, and climatological research there prior to the disaster. Blatten is a case where the scientists knew where to look. But even in relatively well-studied places like Langtang, disasters can emerge in our blind spots.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya">Last year’s Thame glacial lake outburst flood</a> (GLOF) also began in an overlooked and understudied area – <a href="https://www.stimson.org/2024/rethinking-himalayan-cryosphere-risk-assessment-in-the-wake-of-nepals-thame-disaster/">prompting scientists to rethink the ways we assess glacial lakes</a>. Issues related to <a href="https://www.icimod.org/mountain/permafrost/">melting permafrost</a>, which seems to have been a factor for both the Blatten disaster and <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/posts/tashi-lhazom-5a433b22b_rebuildtil-limifloodrelief-fromtearstohope-activity-7332420946013691904-N0sH?utm_source=share&amp;utm_medium=member_desktop&amp;rcm=ACoAAADxlvsBK3zQKg0X2xPLPS94HyMEettoSU4">the cascading ‘thermokarst lake outburst flood’ that recently occurred in the Limi Valley</a>, are increasingly recognised as a pervasive risk but it is difficult to monitor and the science is young. A multitude of different cryosphere-related disasters are possible across the Himalaya, and background risk is increasing. How do we triage between these different kinds of hazards? How do we know where to look? While it might not have been possible to monitor the glaciers and cryosphere features that contributed to the Langtang disaster, we need to be actively looking for other places where monitoring systems and early warning is possible in Nepal and the broader Himalayan region. Of course, we do need to be precise in our analysis and communication around climate attribution, but consensus does exist on some general trends: climate change is driving new hazard interactions that can generate extreme flows. Therefore, we also need to recognise the undeniable: that background risk is undeniably rising, that lives are at risk, and that we need to invest in building systems that can help anticipate events like Blatten (which takes time, time that others don’t have) immediately. The fact that Langtang has been fully rebuilt and community leaders were effective in determining the shape of their own future and ‘building back better’ their way (as complicated as that may be), demonstrates that a future can be possible, amid uncertainty. But the future of many other communities in the Himalaya, who should never have to go through what the Langtangpa went through if we can avoid it, still remains at-risk without more scientific attention and investment. Meanwhile, the monsoon is arriving in Nepal and another disaster could happen any day now. Coverage of the Blatten disaster has been rightfully robust. Praise for the scientists and authorities who identified these risks and correctly analyzed the situation is also deserved, for that is difficult work. A wider call to learn from this event and use insights to inform policy on climate risk assessment or questions of managed retreat is also exceedingly necessary and urgent. As many scientists are saying: events like this will happen again. This is a scary time in the mountains, in the Alps, in the Himalaya, and many other regions. That said, not all places are equally exposed or vulnerable. To reiterate a core question that I have been asking for years: <a href="https://dialogue.earth/en/climate/opinion-climate-disasters-integrate-local-knowledge/">Whose uncertainties matter</a>? When and why? We know that climate-related loss and damage will not be equally or equitably distributed, and that is one of the core reasons for the UN’s Early Warnings for All program. Blatten is being talked about this week <a href="https://globalplatform.undrr.org/2025/preparatory-days/global-ew4all-multi-stakeholder-forum">while the Global Platform for Disaster Risk Reduction is going in Geneva</a>, from where some of my Nepali colleagues posted photos of them posing with a sign that speaks to the justice issue: ‘Early warnings work. They must work for everyone.” Working toward this noble goal will require a concerted and committed global effort. -- Austin Lord, PhD is a Senior Fellow at the Stimson Center and an environmental anthropologist who has been conducting research in Nepal for the past 13 years on disaster and climate risk management, water and energy policy, infrastructure development, and environmental governance.

Blatten, Langtang, and Disasters Yet to Come?

Frontpage topic

Year 2000. The world was gripped by the Y2K panic, The Millennium Bug that many feared would wreck global computer networks. The US waged punitive wars following 9/11. Google was launched in 1998, and its search engine and Gmail soon overtook AOL, Hotmail and Yahoo! The EU floated the Euro, and China was asserting itself on the world stage. Nepal was still a monarchy. The country’s population was only 23 million. Most people got their news on community radio. Evening news bulletins on tv channels had higher ratings than entertainment. Amidst political turmoil, readers bought national daily broadsheets at news-stands. Content was politically top-heavy. The Maoist conflict was entering its fifth year, and there was sporadic news of the government’s Kilo Sierra 2 operation which killed more civilians than guerrillas, adding fuel to the insurgency. The Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML were at each other’s throats, calling for national shutdowns and squandering the hopes of renewal from a democracy their leaders fought to restore in the 1990 People’s Movement. Hardliners in the royal family were getting restless. Scientific proof about global warming, erratic weather and media coverage spread public awareness about climate breakdown. Dire predictions about what was going to happen during the course of the century proved to be optimistic -- we are already seeing today what climatologists said would happen in 2100. Back then, facts still mattered, the mainstream press swayed opinion, investigative journalism exposed wrongdoing and held power to account. In Nepal, editors and foreign correspondents were opinion-makers, some as well-known as political figures, and sometimes as powerful. <h2>Nepali Times</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724110720_468fead795119919172c5f87adedc9524d3d1c687c481beb0c67136be80ff801.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250724110720_468fead795119919172c5f87adedc9524d3d1c687c481beb0c67136be80ff801" data-rendition-name="original" width="457" height="666" loading="lazy" alt="NT #1"> </figure>  Himalmedia Pvt Ltd was launched in 1998 with the flagship fortnightly Himal Khabarpatrika, and Nepali Times started in April 2000 with online content hosted on nepalnews.com. A practice issue was printed in May, and the #1 edition debuted in the week 19-25 July 2000 at the dawn of a new century and new millennium. We chose the ‘midi’ size between broadsheet and tabloid, also called the Berliner format. Indian graphic artist Rustam Vania did the design of a paper convenient to hold and read, an easy and visually rich digest of happenings around the country in lively, stylish English. But why English? We explained in the very first Editorial: ‘In the heyday of the Panchayat in the early 1980s, we were often asked why we worked for The Rising Nepal. Our stock reply: “Because His Majesty reads it.” Those were the days when few outside the charmed circle of Kathmandu expatriates and local elite read English. So what changed? First, the number of people who read English has grown … English is a global lingua franca. There is a class of Nepalis who want more than just make-do English, they want to be fluent in it. English has another advantage: it is easier to be rational in it. One is expressive and effusive in one’s mother tongue, feelings are stronger in the colloquial … In a language that is learnt formally and among readers of an international language, there is less tolerance or intolerance.’ Today in the age of trolling and hate speech, maybe English is not so ‘rational’ after all. The social web has changed so much: readers are drawn to entertainment on digital platforms that mine their personal data and preferences, the political views of users are entrenched and radicalised by algorithms, there is less space for coherent give-and-take to find the middle ground in disputes. The media’s business model has failed under the predatory onslaught of Big Tech. At a time when a free and independent press is needed more than ever to counter populism, resolve wars, or find solutions to the climate crisis, the media is on mute. There is overt political and corporate control of content, and intolerance of tolerance is increasing. Journalism has had to reinvent itself to balance disinformation and falsehoods in cybersphere. At the moment Nepal is a relatively open society, with one of the freest environments in Asia for media. There are efforts to curb that freedom by the other three branches of the state, but solidarity among journalists is strong. Nepali Times itself survived the digital transition with an agile strategy that straddles both print and online for content dissemination and revenue. Those who started reading Nepali Times straight out of university when they were 25, are now 50 years old. We have kept a loyal readership, while welcoming a new generation of users – some of them, surprisingly, preferring the print edition. We have emphasised multimedia content, preferring to show rather than tell through interactive digital infographics and a well-visited YouTube channel. The hardcopy and online editions complement each other.&nbsp; Nepali Times has 150,000 unique visitors per month on its website, and over 38% of you come in through the front door in organic searches, 39% through search engines, and the rest click links to stories on our social media posts. The average duration a reader spends on a Nepali Times article is relatively high compared to other media: 2 minutes. Despite the perception that the content is read by older people, it is still mostly popular in the 25-40 age group. Readers of the online pages are divided roughly 30:70 between Nepal and the rest of the world. &nbsp; In an age of mobile phone saturation, &nbsp;endless scrolling on a small screen, there is still something to be said about the impact of high quality photographs on a 30 inch spread in the centerfold on this paper.&nbsp; Which may be why despite print media worldwide either shutting down or in crisis, the number of subscribers buying the print edition delivered to their homes or offices every Friday morning in Kathmandu has been constant over the past 25 years. Nepali Times is also available as an e-paper on www.nepalitimes.com as well as a weekly newsletter emailed to about 4,000 subscribers through Substack every Sunday. Himalmedia has now been repurposed as a non-profit company. Its Himal Khabar magazine and Nepali Times will remain dedicated to fostering a national conversation of issues before they become problems.&nbsp; Media consumption is shifting, readers are fragmented by algorithm and devices, but it is good, old-fashioned reporting that keeps society informed of trends affecting their lives. Journalism that is fair and balanced provides perspective to make sense of the cacophony.&nbsp; We thank all readers, partners and well-wishers in Nepal and the rest of the world for being with us for the last 25 years. We look forward to the next 25 with a fresh and youthful newsroom team.&nbsp; Kunda Dixit Former Editor, now Publisher

Publisher's Note

Droughts are not uncommon in Nepal. In 1983, the monsoon failed and international food aid had to be parachuted into western Nepal to avert famine. The Tarai has long suffered from too much water or too little. This year it is too little. The monsoon arrived ahead of schedule on 1 June, but since then there has been only 20% of the normal precipitation in the eastern Tarai, and only one-third of paddy fields have been planted. On Wednesday, the Cabinet decided to declare Madhes Province a ‘disaster-hit zone’, and Prime Minister K P Oli told Parliament that the Nepal Army could be deployed if necessary to alleviate the water shortage. But government response could be limited since this is a crisis that took years to build up. Politicians have blamed climate breakdown, but the reality is more complicated. Denudation of the fragile Chure Hills, river-bed mining for boulders and sand, and over-extraction of ground water on both sides of the border, are more important factors. Climate change has just made the human-induced causes worse. The farmers of the Madhes are used to “gambling with the monsoon”. Precious paddy seedlings are transplanted, but since so much of the agriculture is rain-fed, failure of the monsoon does not just mean no harvest, but also the loss of seeds that could have been eaten. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724040752_bd7bb70c2eda9b421809d178610461f94aee645076cf3bc49900357b6f654d23.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250724040752_bd7bb70c2eda9b421809d178610461f94aee645076cf3bc49900357b6f654d23" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1204" loading="lazy" alt="Tarai districts gasp for water NT"> </figure>  Monsoons used to be like clockwork, vegetation in the highlands to the north controlled floods and recharged groundwater, population density and intensive agriculture in India and Nepal had not yet happened. The rains were something to celebrate. Although farmers here remember monsoon failures before, this year’s drought is happening after many years. And it is not just no rain, ponds and water pumps have gone dry, even deep tubewells provide limited water. Cities like Birganj and Janakpur are badly hit. The eight Madhes districts have the highest outmigration rates in Nepal, crop failure and lack of water is surely going to add to the push factor this year. If this is the situation during the monsoon, many wonder what will it be like in the dry season. It is said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Politicians do not have a magic wand to solve this crisis – it is the result of past mistakes and poor planning. The Prime Minister said on Wednesday that deep tube wells would be drilled to pump water, but this could exacerbate the problem by lowering the groundwater table even further. In the past month, the people of the borderlands are wondering what went wrong. There is not much they can do about global climate breakdown, but a responsive federal or provincial government could take measures to address the immediate crisis and launch mid- and long-term mitigation plans. The Madhes water crisis has exposed the historical inattention and neglect of the federal government. That is nothing new, Kathmandu has always disregarded the plains. Wards, municipalities and cities of the Tarai have had to deal with it on their own, in many places fire brigade tankers have been deployed to ferry drinking water.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724040752_5894923ae3375fb07caec431fcb5458a49fa92fdfe3b2694c00c2662ce3161e4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250724040752_5894923ae3375fb07caec431fcb5458a49fa92fdfe3b2694c00c2662ce3161e4" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Tarai districts gasp for water NT"> </figure>  Some of the reasons for the water emergency here is what has been allowed to happen in the upper catchment in the Mahabharat and Chure. Wells are going dry not just because of farms in Nepal over-pumping – groundwater does not respect national boundaries. Geographically, the plains, hills and mountains may look different but they are part of the same ecosystem, the same river basins. The Himalayan eco-biological domain is not only mountains, it includes the plains. There are also interventions that can be done at the local level. Wetlands, marshes and ponds that used to store monsoon water and recharge the aquifers have been built over in the past decades due to urban expansion.&nbsp; Traditional water conservation practices have been abandoned. Some of these were carried over since 1990 with Village Development Committees, but urban pressure, settlements along the highways &nbsp;and the almost complete disappearance of the dense jungle that used to cover the northern edges of the eight districts. The Tarai now has 53% of Nepal’s population, with Madhes Province alone having 6.5 million people. Private water tanker companies are doing a roaring business. But the water they distribute is neither clean nor cheap. It is enough only for household use, not for agriculture.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724040752_d068f249d0abd7e2766218de4ae4cb9e953d34fc920bcca1b0902b3abb4d695b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250724040752_d068f249d0abd7e2766218de4ae4cb9e953d34fc920bcca1b0902b3abb4d695b" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Tarai districts gasp for water NT"> </figure>  The Tarai used to be Nepal's rice bowl producing surplus grain to feed the whole country. The soil has been poisoned by chemical fertiliser and pesticides, and now there is no water. Loss of forest in the Chure slopes has also brought down sand and reduced the fertility of the soil. There is no reason the Tarai should suffer such a severe water shortage just because the rains fail. There is plenty of water flowing down snowfed Himalayan rivers that can be channeled for agriculture with schemes like the Marin-Kamala Diversion.&nbsp; What has to be understood is that this severe drought in the Madhes is not just the problem of Madhes Province, it is a problem for Nepal. It is an opportunity for Kathmandu to show that it cares for the people of the Tarai, and take steps to address the crisis before public outrage in the plains boils over again.&nbsp; Unless this crisis is tackled on an emergency footing, there is a danger of mass out migration due to the lack of water. Let’s set aside climate breakdown for now, let us tackle the man made causes first. The federal government declaring Madhes Province a disaster zone is a glimmer of home, but the people sweltering in the desiccated plains are waiting for that pronouncement to be followed by action. Chandrakishore is a Birganj-based political commentator who writes this monthly column BORDERLINES in Nepali Times. @kishore_chandra

Tarai districts gasp for water

In 2015, the landmark <a href="https://unfccc.int/sites/default/files/english_paris_agreement.pdf">Paris climate agreement</a> set the ambitious but necessary goal of limiting global warming to 1.5° Celsius above pre-industrial levels, and ensuring that the increase stays “well below” 2°C. With the average global surface temperature having <a href="https://www.ncei.noaa.gov/news/global-climate-202505">already reached</a> 1.1°C (1.98°F) above the twentieth-century baseline, time is running out to reach this goal. Yet governments have so far failed to agree on a strategy for doing so.
At last month’s 62nd session of the United Nations Climate Change Subsidiary Bodies (SB62) in Bonn – the mid-year negotiations intended to lay the groundwork for November’s UN Climate Change Conference (COP30) in Belém – countries got so <a href="https://www.climatechangenews.com/2025/06/16/bonn-bulletin-climate-talks-delayed-by-agenda-fight/">hung up</a> on the details of the agenda that little progress was made. Such delays have long characterised the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, but they are at odds with scientific reality, which demands rapid and unified action.
Building consensus is thus a key challenge facing Brazil’s COP30 presidency. The task ahead is formidable – not only because of the challenges inherent in the UNFCCC process, but also because four interconnected global developments are undermining trust and impeding multilateral cooperation.
First, the global-governance architecture, with the UN at its core, is showing signs of <a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2025/06/25/united-nations-80-year-birthday-war-peace/">disarray</a>. Institutions that were designed to nurture and facilitate cooperation are increasingly hamstrung by bureaucratic inertia and outdated organisational structures. With <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/dec/01/lets-summon-the-courage-for-un-reform">reform efforts gridlocked</a>, the UN system risks losing its relevance, and multilateralism its credibility.
Second, the rise of <a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2025/01/07/trump-transactional-global-system-us-allies-markets-tariffs/">transactional</a> diplomacy has meant countries prioritise their own short-term interests over collective long-term needs. This approach – based on a <a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2025/05/27/us-values-based-foreign-policy-trump-ideology/">narrow conception</a> of national interest – effectively precludes broad-based cooperation, as it erodes the norms that have traditionally underpinned international engagement.
Third, compromise is increasingly being rejected in favor of “<a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2025/05/29/realism-rules-trump-order-institutions/">realism</a>,” leading to extreme polarisation and entrenched negotiating positions. Multilateral negotiations regularly come <a href="https://www.climatechangenews.com/2025/06/27/countries-reach-hard-fought-compromise-on-climate-adaptation-metrics-in-bonn/">down to the wire</a>, and the results are often disappointing, further encouraging transactional engagement at the expense of cooperation and compromise.
Finally, climate change is increasingly taking a back seat to other challenges, with <a href="https://acleddata.com/conflict-index/">armed conflicts</a>, a global <a href="https://blogs.worldbank.org/en/voices/global-trade-has-remained-resilient-so-far-but-a-harp-slowdown-is-underway">trade slowdown</a>, intensifying <a href="https://www.worldbank.org/en/news/press-release/2025/06/10/global-economic-prospects-june-2025-press-release">growth headwinds</a>, and record <a href="https://unctad.org/news/debt-crisis-developing-countries-external-debt-hits-record-114-trillion">debt levels</a> consuming countries’ political attention, diplomatic space, and financial resources.
Brazil clearly has its work cut out for it. Above all, it must resist the tendency for COP presidencies to emphasise fresh agreements and ambitious commitments – the kind that grab headlines and make the negotiations look like a smashing success but often fall short when the hard work of implementation begins. Brazil’s COP30 presidency must eschew flashy results in favour of pragmatic pathways to deliver on past commitments.
Fortunately, Brazil recognises this. Its <a href="https://cop30.br/en/brazilian-presidency/letters-from-the-presidency/fourth-letter-from-the-presidency">Fourth Letter to the International Community</a> outlines an Action Agenda aimed at making progress on what the world has “already collectively agreed” during previous COPs and in the Paris climate agreement. Specifically, the Agenda seeks to leverage existing initiatives to complete the implementation of the first “<a href="https://unfccc.int/topics/global-stocktake/about-the-global-stocktake/outcome-of-the-first-global-stocktake">global stocktake</a>” under the Paris agreement, which was <a href="https://unfccc.int/topics/global-stocktake">concluded</a> at COP28.
This focus on previously agreed outcomes is well-suited to the current geopolitical context, in which any agreement can be difficult to reach. Representatives at the SB62 in Bonn did not achieve a consensus, and last month’s G7 summit <a href="https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/blogs/new-atlanticist/what-did-not-happen-at-the-g7-summit-in-canada-and-why-it-matters/">failed</a> to deliver a joint communiqué. Rather than perpetuating stalemates, the Action Agenda invites stakeholders to make progress where agreement already exists.
The Agenda also charts the way forward. It is organised into six thematic “axes,” including stewarding forests, oceans, and biodiversity; transforming agriculture and food systems; and building resilience for cities, infrastructure, and water. “Unleashing enablers and accelerators” in finance, technology, and capacity-building – the final, cross-cutting axis – will accelerate implementation at scale.
Since responsibility for the implementation and governance of climate policy is distributed among many actors – which must have some level of trust that others are doing their part – the Agenda also establishes “transparency, monitoring, and accountability” as top priorities. To this end, Brazil’s COP30 presidency should seek to deliver a set of shared principles and supportive mechanisms.
As COP30 Special Envoys, we extend our full support to the Action Agenda. By emphasising consolidation, rather than spectacle, Brazil is <a href="https://www.climatechangenews.com/2025/06/20/brazil-lets-deliver-on-our-old-climate-promises-before-making-new-ones/">setting the stage</a> for a highly productive COP30 – one focused on bridging divides, building trust, and delivering genuine progress. The task ahead is daunting, but the chance to rebuild momentum is real.
This commentary is signed by Adnan Amin, CEO of COP28; Arunabha Ghosh, CEO of the Council on Energy, Environment and Water; Carlos Lopes, Chair of the African Climate Foundation; Jacinda Ardern, former Prime Minister of New Zealand; Jonathan Pershing, former US Special Envoy for Climate Change; Laurence Tubiana, CEO of the European Climate Foundation; and Patricia Espinosa, former Executive Secretary of the UNFCCC. The authors are <a href="https://cop30.br/en/brazilian-presidency/special-envoys">COP30 Brazilian Presidency Special Envoys for Strategic Regions</a>.
Jacinda Ardern is a former prime minister of New Zealand.
Carlos Lopes, a former UN under-secretary-general and former executive secretary of the Economic Commission for Africa, is an honorary professor at the Nelson Mandela School of Public Governance at the University of Cape Town, a visiting professor at Sciences Po, and the African Union’s High Representative for Relations with Europe. He is the author of <a href="https://www.selfdeceptiontrap.info/">The Self-Deception Trap: Exploring the Economic Dimensions of Charity Dependency within Africa-Europe Relations</a> (Palgrave Macmillan, 2024).
Laurence Tubiana, a former French ambassador to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, is CEO of the European Climate Foundation and a professor at the École Normale Supérieure.

No copout at Belém

Local residents of Mustang, including a sitting MP and several politicians, submitted a petition to Prime Minister KP Oli in Kathmandu this week urging the government to lift the region’s ‘restricted’ status. This is not the first time such a demand has been raised, and as infrastructure the region’s accessibility improved over the years, calls to remove the long-standing restriction have grown louder.&nbsp; Upper Mustang is no longer weeks away <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/postcards-from-kathmandu">from Kathmandu.</a> Nearly 85% of the road from Beni to Kagbeni has been blacktopped, and one can drive from Kathmandu to Lo Manthang with an overnight stop in Pokhara. Between April 2024 and April 2025, Lower Mustang received 144,745 international tourists, a near 50% increase compared to the previous year. Most of these were <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/nepal-india-trans-boundary-bonds">Indian pilgrims </a>travelling to Muktinath. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Mustang</a> is also gaining popularity among Nepali visitors, with 700,000 visiting the region in 2024. A hotel operator in Kagbeni estimated that about 20% of Nepali visitors to Muktinath also travel to Korala, the trade and transit checkpoint on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/north-of-the-border">China border</a>. That would mean that nearly 100,000 domestic tourists visit Upper Mustang annually. In stark contrast, international tourist numbers to Upper Mustang (north of Kagbeni) have remained stagnant, hovering around 4,000 visitors per year. The primary reason is the continued enforcement of the region’s restricted status. Foreign visitors must pay a steep permit fee: a minimum of $500 for 10 days, with an additional $50 per day thereafter. Tourism some entrepreneurs, politicians, and residents want these fees to be abolished so Upper Mustang can attract a broader range of international travellers. The success of Lower Mustang, where relaxed restrictions have led to a<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/boom-time-in-central-tarai"> tourism boom</a>, is often cited as proof of what lifting restrictions could achieve. Upper Mustang is not the only region in Nepal with a restricted status. Several northern areas prefixed with ‘Upper’ (Upper Manaslu, Upper Dolpo, Upper Kanchenjunga, and Upper Arun) also need similar permits and fees. Although no clear official explanation exists, these areas were primarily restricted due to historical inaccessibility, ecological and cultural fragility and security concerns. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/upper-mustang-opposes-prohibited-areas">Call to scrap Upper Mustang tourist fee</a> In the 1960s and 1970s, these remote regions served as shelters for Khampa guerrilla fighters who launched cross border ambushes on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-last-days-of-the-khampa">Chinese military </a>across the border.&nbsp; Though the Khampa have long gone, security concerns rooted in that era seem to persist. The government in Kathmandu is seemingly unaware of the changed political and security landscape. If concerns do remain, they are not made public. One of the main reasons for maintaining the restricted designation is to limit visitor numbers. But with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-road-out-of-nepal">improved road access and services</a>, as Upper Mustang has seen, this justification no longer holds. When Upper Mustang first opened to international tourists in 1992, it had no formal lodges or hotels, and it took four to five days of trekking from Jomsom to Lo Manthang.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250716120744_4e4405cf10e6f127f90a1cd40feda0b9d8d69efd13093a2563530ca31489ba9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250716120744_4e4405cf10e6f127f90a1cd40feda0b9d8d69efd13093a2563530ca31489ba9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="509" loading="lazy" alt="Lift restrictions on Upper Mustang"> <figcaption>Photo: DINESH SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Without a nechyang (a household with traditional friendship), it was difficult to find a place to stay or get a proper meal. Only a few elite households offered accommodation. Today, there are now more than 80 lodges and hotels above Kagbeni, spread across nearly every village. Several upmarket hotels now struggle to stay afloat during the off-season, relying on low-spending domestic visitors to survive. Lo Manthang, once a remote destination, is now just a few hours’ drive from Jomsom, easily reachable by lunchtime for early starters. Once the remaining road sections are blacktopped, travel time will be further reduced. Yet, the government still charges a flat $500 fee for a 10-day permit based on outdated &nbsp;assumptions from a bygone era. There has been no serious review of the permit structure to align with current realities, nor any response to local aspirations to attract more international tourists and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-tourism-in-2023-9ukoi8iz">harness tourism for economic development</a>. Concerns about over tourism are valid. There is a risk that increasing visitor numbers could erode Upper Mustang’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-million-mantras-in-mustang">cultural heritage</a>, social fabric, and fragile natural environment, precisely the features that make it special. However, the region’s 33 years of tourism experience have been largely positive.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250716120744_5c7e5e05097cd0e5a1027b51c7e3db3be0bd67e0f7cbaea6d2c447b1dacafc8a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250716120744_5c7e5e05097cd0e5a1027b51c7e3db3be0bd67e0f7cbaea6d2c447b1dacafc8a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="1050" loading="lazy" alt="Lift restrictions on Upper Mustang"> <figcaption>Photo: MUKESH POKHREL / NT ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Tourism has contributed significantly to the restoration and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-history-of-heritage?%2F">preservation of religious and historical sites</a> like the Thubchen and Jampa monasteries in Lo Manthang, the ongoing conversion of the old palace in Ghami into a premium hotel, and the rehabilitation of many monasteries and chortens.&nbsp; These efforts, supported by international donors and heritage experts, demonstrate that tourism—when well managed—can be a powerful driver of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/shrinking-tourism-s-ecological-footprint">conservation</a>. The high permit fees have been somewhat effective in limiting international visitors, but they have no influence on the growing number of domestic tourists, particularly during the Dasain and Tihar holidays. The most pressing need now is for all levels of government—federal, provincial, and local—to<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-invest-in-nepal"> invest in </a>managing tourist flows and maintaining tourist sites. These efforts are essential not only to enhance visitor experience but also to build long-term resilience and sustainability for the destination. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/greening-nepal-s-tourism">Greening Nepal’s tourism</a>, Hanna Wells Visitor numbers are central to any tourism development strategy that aims to balance economic, social, and environmental goals. Clinging to obsolete policies and concerns to justify Upper Mustang’s restricted status is not only unfair, it also suggests an undemocratic and discriminatory attitude toward a remote district.&nbsp; Shailendra Thakali, PhD, is from Jomsom and is a freelance consultant on protected areas, tourism, conservation, and sustainable livelihoods.

Lift restrictions on Upper Mustang

In 2025, we stand at a crossroads in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/surveying-nepal-s-digital-landscape">the digital era</a>. Our platforms have become the new public squares, but rather than fostering democracy and dignity, many are optimised for manipulation, division, and profit. The Council on Technology and Social Cohesion's <a href="https://toda.org/assets/files/research/blueprint-on-prosocial-tech-design-governance.pdf">Blueprint on Prosocial Tech Design Governance</a> offers a systems-level response to this crisis. Digital harms are not accidental. They stem from deliberate choices embedded in how platforms are built and monetised. Infinite scroll, addictive recommendation systems, and deceptive patterns are not technical inevitabilities—they are design policies that reward engagement over truth, attention over well-being, and outrage over dialogue.&nbsp; These <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/avoiding-the-quicksand-of-social-media">antisocial designs</a> have proven devastating: eroding mental health, fuelling polarisation, spreading disinformation, and concentrating power in a handful of corporate actors. Tech companies blame users for<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ghiblification-is-more-than-cute-pixels"> harmful content online</a>, avoiding their own responsibility in how they design platforms. The Blueprint shifts the focus from downstream content moderation to upstream focus on platform design. No technology has a neutral design. Companies chose what their platform will allow you to do, prevent you from doing, and what the design will persuade, incentivise, amplify, highlight, or manipulate people to do or not do online. Like building codes in architecture, the report proposes a tiered certification system for prosocial tech, outlining five levels of increasing ambition—from minimum safety standards to fully participatory, socially cohesive platforms. This is not window-dressing. It is a structural intervention to address the root causes of harmful tech designs. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">Tech and transition in Nepal</a>, Ashutosh Mani Dixit Tier 1 begins with establishing baseline protections: Safety by Design, Privacy by Design, and User Agency by Design. These are not abstract ideals but concrete practices that give users control over what they see, how they are tracked, and whether manipulative features are opt-in rather than default. Tier 2 scales up with low-barrier user experience tools like empathy-oriented reaction buttons, friction to slow down impulsive posting, and prompts to reflect before sharing. In Tier 3, prosocial algorithms that highlight areas of common ground and diverse ideas replace engagement-maximising recommender systems that offer news feeds skewed toward polarising topics. Tier 4 introduces civic tech and deliberative platforms explicitly built for democratic engagement, and Tier 5 pushes for middleware solutions that restore data sovereignty and interoperability. The report highlights the need for research to understand how platform design impacts society and open data standards for measuring social trust and cohesion. It calls for mandated platform audits, researcher safe harbours, and public infrastructure to enable independent scrutiny of algorithmic systems and user experiences. Without these safeguards, crucial insight into systemic harms—such as <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/inoculation-against-misinformation">manipulation, bias, and disinformation</a>—remains inaccessible. The paper offers a set of prosocial metrics on three areas of social cohesion. This includes individual agency and well-being, or the ability of users to make informed choices and participate meaningfully, social trust and intergroup pluralism referring to the quality of interaction across diverse social, cultural, and political groups, and public trust or the strength of relationship between users and public institutions. Meanwhile, market forces drive antisocial and deceptive tech design. Venture capital (VC) funding is the main source of financing for many major <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/improving-internet-governance-in-nepal?fbclid=IwAR1_tBjAAj53rRCQrGx_vI2P4hts45NzXMo_702l3DmbVLzqCRUhBk68NJk_aem_ASUp6z3b9O_dvca3JUWg_kmf-Si29rn0_X_piNB9GqRu6q28Sjr3GOwfppZg8y2qeQw">tech platforms</a>, especially in their early and growth stages. It significantly entrenches antisocial tech design, expecting rapid scaling, high returns, and market dominance—often at the expense of ethical development. Market concentration inhibits innovation and confines users within systems that prioritise profit over well-being. Numerous large technology companies function as monopolies, employing opaque strategies and dominating value chains.&nbsp; Such technology monopolies pose significant challenges for smaller, prosocial platforms seeking growth. When a limited number of tech giants control infrastructure, data, and user attention, smaller platforms with ethical, inclusive, or democratic designs encounter difficulties in achieving visibility and viability. The report recommends shifting market forces by codifying liability for platform-induced harms, enforcing antitrust to level the playing field for ethical alternatives, and identifying a range of options for funding and monetising prosocial tech startups.&nbsp; Too often piecemeal tech regulation has failed to show the flood of toxicity online. Using a system’s approach, the report offers a comprehensive plan to make prosocial tech not only possible, but competitive and sustainable. Just as we expect bridges to be safe and banks to be audited, the Blueprint insists we treat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/makeshift/addressing-nepals-digital-divide">digital infrastructure</a> with the same seriousness. Platforms should not be allowed to profit from harm while hiding behind the myth of neutrality. At its core, the Blueprint argues that platform design is social engineering. Platforms that currently amplify outrage could, with the right design and incentives, foster empathy, cooperation, and truth. Now the question is political will. Will regulators adopt tiered certifications that reward responsibility? Will investors fund platforms that prioritise well-being over profit? Will designers centre the needs of marginalised communities in their user experience decisions? The Blueprint gives us the tools. The next step is collective action for governments, technologists, and civil society alike.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025070914078_7cf29b08f9f355820f578caa88b07ef9bdf244eb9e55daf658a9861cb575e5e0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025070914078_7cf29b08f9f355820f578caa88b07ef9bdf244eb9e55daf658a9861cb575e5e0" data-rendition-name="original" width="651" height="845" loading="lazy" alt="Rethinking Digital Platform Design"> </figure>  This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/rethinking-digital-platform-design-a-systems-approach.html">the original</a> with their permission. Lisa Schirch is Research Fellow with the Toda Peace Institute and is on the faculty at the University of Notre Dame in the Keough School of Global Affairs. Schirch is the author of eleven books, including <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Social-Media-Impacts-on-Conflict-and-Democracy-The-Techtonic-Shift/Schirch/p/book/9780367541057">Social Media Impacts on Conflict and Democracy: The Tech-tonic Shift</a>.

Rethinking Digital Platform Design

"Why are adults sexist?” my ten-year-old nephew, Paartha, asks in response to a scene where the parents threaten to marry off Asha Karki, if she fails her exams. I’ve been reading to him from an illustrated young adult fiction series by Anbika Giri. In the story, Asha, like many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/half-of-nepal-s-girls-may-drop-out-of-school?a=">girls in Nepal</a>, has to juggle between household chores and schoolwork. By the time she is done at night, she is too tired to study. In the mornings, she is always late for the school assembly because of chores. And as if the burden of household work wasn’t enough, there is constant threat from her parents to “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/too-young-to-marry">marry her off</a>” if she fails-- the idea of marriage, dangling like a dagger over her head the entire time. Asha is compliant to the daily needs of her family over her own desire to study. The elders do not appear aware of her aspirations as a schoolgirl, but it is her brother who shows up, becomes an ally. The boy starts to take up responsibility for household errand and is present for his sister in times of distress, eventually helping her to win the accolades and recognition she is deserving of. The series comes in the form of five books: Mother is Mighty, Nisha’s Life Lessons, Lakshu’s Silence, Superhero Sister and Payal Goes to School (आमाले सक्नुहुन्छ, नाक कसरी ठाडो हुन्छ, लक्षु किन बोल्दिन, मेरी दिदी र पायल पढ्न जान्छे). The series was completed in 2021 and was first published in Nepali -- they are taught at schools in Kathmandu and elsewhere. The English edition of the novellas, translated by our friend <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/of-crows-and-people">Prawin Adhikari</a>, hit the bookstores in June 2025.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250706080724_c9d3bf0c738b0b14e36ffe31fe82eb9317aa5b6e090687dd47f8e2f3b6cf89ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250706080724_c9d3bf0c738b0b14e36ffe31fe82eb9317aa5b6e090687dd47f8e2f3b6cf89ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="On life lessons"> <figcaption>Photo: PRATIBHA TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  In each of the novellas, the story pivots around a schoolgirl, either as the narrator or the protagonist. She is faced with a range of challenges-- from the yearning for a bicycle to the agony over confronting social afflictions. And in all of them, Anbika creates <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/educating-your-sons-will-protect-your-daughters?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">male allies</a> in the roles of family members, teachers or neighbours or government representatives. Her<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/she-is-the-story"> female characters </a>as mothers, sisters, friends, students are resolute, self-aware, astute, and feisty. If they are cast down because of life’s circumstances, they get up, pick their bicycles and pedal again. Anbika had started writing these books in 2017, when she and I used to be colleagues. She would disappear one weekend and would show up at work on Monday and announce she had sort of finished writing a novella. That’s right, one of the books was written in exactly three days. I recall her saying she wanted to create a series about how <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/educating-girls-to-break-cycle-of-poverty" target="_blank">girls in different parts of Nepal </a>commute to school, which appears in a different series. Her books for children all hinge on the idea of bringing books about Nepali girls to young readers. “I wanted to write these books for my daughter, Awani. I wanted to write books that are gender sensitive,<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/placing-nepali-women-first-past-the-post"> female-led</a>, and represent cultural diversity,” says Anbika. “Awani has never had books like that to read. Female leads do not exist in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/for-children-about-children">Nepali literature for children</a>.” Like many other children in Nepal, Awani too grew up on books by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/with-love-labour-and-writing">international writers</a>. And while the beauty of that is that a wide range of context is presented to children, which helps build empathy, but they lack the local context. And that is the gap Anbika tries to fill through her books. “I wanted to put into context some important questions. How can we change ourselves as humans? How can we have empathy, gain realisation and evolve as individuals? I wanted to write stories that carry morals,” she explains. “I wanted to introduce politics to children in the simplest way.” Anbika’s girl characters aim at becoming prime minister, local leader, doctor and riding bikes when they grow up-- challenging the traditional portrayal of women’s desire for beauty, love, marriage and home. She introduces topics like <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/can-nepal-end-child-marriage-by-2030-gmx92qf3">child marriage</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/menstruation-is-normal-period">menstruation</a>, casteism, bullying, property ownership, economic independence and the local governance system. And none of them are easy subjects to broach when writing for children.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250706080728_2bad0254f87d5f89cb31a1476a5079d68838a157ad4a0349ec6e619274bcf7fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250706080728_2bad0254f87d5f89cb31a1476a5079d68838a157ad4a0349ec6e619274bcf7fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1483" loading="lazy" alt="On life lessons"> <figcaption>Photo: HIMAL</figcaption> </figure>  “I’m a political writer and I have my own politics, and it shows in everything I write. I think of gender as my politics. And it shows in subtle ways in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/illustrating-innocence">children’s books </a>I write,” says Anbika. She says she hopes for the books to also be read by parents. “I thought of creating something that both adults and children can read, comment on.” The stories are mostly set against the rural Madhes backdrop. “Some have questioned me about the romanticisation of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/life-and-livelihood-in-remote-nepal">village life</a>, but that kind of life also exists and needs to be seen and understood,” she says. Some scenes slide into what could be difficult to read for some children, such as the mention of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-has-progress-in-saving-women-s-lives-stalled">maternal death</a>. There is no sanitised version of life in these books. But there is triumph and hope. Anbika says the details of village life and the core sentiment of the book have been earnestly transferred to the English iteration, something she had always hoped for when she had started writing the books. “Thanks to the thoughtful and sensitive translation by Prawin Adhikari, the dream has taken flight. I’m deeply grateful for the care he’s brought to every word and nuance. I chose him to translate these books because he understands the context of my stories.” Prolific and also deeply passionate about her projects, Anbika wants to eventually write her books in English. That passion is embodied by her characters. “My characters in Ama le Saknu huncha and Payal Padhna Janche carry books, dreams and strength on the handlebars of their simple bicycles. They are brave, determined, and ready to ride against the wind.” Each book has been illustrated by a different artist, some depictions better than the others. The books’ covers bear dreamy images by Anamika Gautam-- the one with a schoolgirl on a bicycle, a common favourite between Paarth and me. Paartha, was very impatient when we read the parts where the key characters went through difficulties. One of the questions he asked on repeat was why do adults treat girls unfairly, reminding me of the deep responsibility we bear towards children.&nbsp; When we had finished reading Superhero Sister, I told him: “That unfair treatment needs to change, so girls can live as boys do.”

On life lessons

Nepali Times #1269

Duthik: Stories from Dolpo at The Kala Salon is Chering Gyaoo Gurung’s ode to his homeland of Dolpo using its native textiles and jewelry. It is also an urgent call to preserve the region’s culture, eroded by encroaching modernity, migration, and a changing climate. ‘I have always loved the textiles of my home, and these, along with the lapis, coral and other minerals used in our jewelry, have inspired my art,’ writes Gurung in his artist’s statement. The famous Dolpo blankets, weighty, richly coloured with linear patterns, hang alongside his paintings in the Salon, on the top floor of the Chhaya Center in Thamel. One of the blankets is his grandmother’s. “It almost still smells smoky, since we only use firewood,” says the soft-spoken 25-year-old. Dolpo in the trans-Himalaya is to the north of the Dhaulagiri range. Most people, incluyding the artist’s family are pastoralists, herding 100 yaks, goats and sheep. Many families also collect yarsagumba, and at one point that would make enough money to last the year, but not anymore. “From Dolpo, it is pretty unheard of to pursue art,” says Gurung, who is not traditionally trained in thangka like other Himalayan artists like Tsherin Sherpa or Dorjee Karmarong. But his passion for art showed early, when he came to Kathmandu at five to study.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250723080712_be467c0e9b9f2fd01148efb464a1c785b8c9ba66f09dd8308c311859a3682a9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250723080712_be467c0e9b9f2fd01148efb464a1c785b8c9ba66f09dd8308c311859a3682a9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The fabric of society"> </figure>  “In Dolpo, we used to go to school for six months and work with our parents for six months. An aunt suggested that I might as well get some tuition during this time off. Once I came to Kathmandu, we found French sponsors and I stayed here to study,” recounts Gurung. Gurung lived in a hostel and studied under that sponsorship until grade ten. He got support from home for further studies until a bachelor’s in art, which he only finished two years ago. In the meantime, for him, art was a hobby he was good at, he would often win at competitions that this school took him to. Following graduation, many of Gurung’s peers did a lot of commission work and got burned out, while he received residencies, allowing him to stick to his own process and ideas, subsequently developing a style and a voice of his own. Gurung was the first of his family to move to Kathmandu like he did, and while that has led to a blossoming art career, he is wistful about the life he left behind. “The people I left behind lived sort of a perfect life in the village,” he says, even as it is clear herding yaks would not have been enough for his independent spirit. And migration is a big theme in his work, six of the paintings at the exhibition are named as much. Two of them show a mother walking with a baby on her back, and one depicts a snow leopard on the move with its cub.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250723080720_a916959c5a945e9d8c147219a094a548d9a08c8eb93d554a5e62105551a86592.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250723080720_a916959c5a945e9d8c147219a094a548d9a08c8eb93d554a5e62105551a86592" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="The fabric of society"> </figure>  “People migrate in generations, and because of this, they lose culture,” notes Gurung. Three others under the theme are spirals of clothes and masks, seemingly saying that migration causes deep changes in, and confusions about, one’s identity. The fabric of Dolpo and the outfits are prominently featured in almost every painting. “The women, in particular, are complete in how they dress up,” says Gurung. His women wear bhakkus and belts, and blankets and a complete set of necklaces and jewelry. An important detail is the vajra, traditionally a powerful Buddhist and Hindu mythical object and weapon, that the women use as a clip to hold the hems of their shawl together. “Note how the colours of the fabric are dull,” points out Gurung, explaining that these cloths are dyed naturally with ‘stone’ colours but fade quickly in the sun and the dust storms of Dolpo. To Gurung, the fabrics signify the Dolpo culture that he is so fond of, but disappearing. He laments that people would rather buy similar but cheaper blankets from Kathmandu or Tibet, and are abandoning traditional occupations, instead running hotels. “His feeling for Dolpo really shines through, and makes the paintings feel very warm,” says curator Sophia Pande. “I think the exhibition shows the unique style Chering has developed, and his range.” Another Dolpo detail that features heavily is bhoj patra, or birch bark paper which is used to write on as well as roofing material, given that it is waterproof. The sap of the birch tree is so sweet that it is also tapped and boiled for sugar. “People also carry it on yarchagumba trips, to use as light plates or cups. They can be washed and reused too,” adds Gurung.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250723080716_84ceef8066260cbe271158790e77bfc867dbab9cbaf23d13dc39202ef2a949f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250723080716_84ceef8066260cbe271158790e77bfc867dbab9cbaf23d13dc39202ef2a949f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The fabric of society"> </figure>  Like the Dolpo blankets, reams of this bhoj patra and a bowlful of yarcha are also displayed and give a nuanced understanding of the Dolpo way of life. Gurung also has a series of paintings on the bark paper, the first of which is a sky blue ‘DHARMA MASK’ or ‘MUKUT’. &nbsp;“I mixed acrylic paint with glue and diluted it to use like watercolour on the bhoj patra, and I was very happy with how it turned out,” he explains of the piece. Gurung works out of White Yak studio in Lalitpur, a name he chose for the rare and revered version of the animal. “I plan to carry on with this subject matter as I haven’t exhausted all my ideas,” he says, “and I can still get better with my colouring.” Duthik: Stories from Dolpo By Chering Gyaoo Gurung The Kala Salon Chhaya Centre, Thamel 11am-8pm Until 1 August

The fabric of society

Georgia O’Keefe, a foundational modernist painter most known for her floral and landscape paintings once said: “One can’t paint New York as it is, but rather as it is felt.” O'Keefe's residency in the city occurred during its extreme architectural expansion. Her lesser known body of work is entitled ‘My New Yorks’ and the series of paintings are a bird's eye perspective of New York City. The ongoing exhibition ‘Under the Same Roof’ at Siddhartha Art Gallery by Subodh Bhandari and Sambridhi Ratna Shakya resembles O’Keefe’s ‘love letters to New York’.&nbsp; Bhandari, a Patan newcomer and Shakya, a Patan native, work together to honour their architectural surroundings using mixed media. ‘A Walk Through the City’ is a conglomeration of miniature window replicas.&nbsp; The duo took snapshots of rapidly changing communities, and both styles are similar in their directness. The two artists reconstruct observations through stylistic fabrication, and capture the sensation of traversing a street, suddenly making ordinary objects artistic.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025072210078_3297b124286d188c641120c0742ced23ea15d75906d4454135f758dde501b0fe.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025072210078_3297b124286d188c641120c0742ced23ea15d75906d4454135f758dde501b0fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="2150" height="1438" loading="lazy" alt="From the outside looking in"> </figure>  ‘Under the Same Roof’ centres around Patan’s doors, powerlines, and most notably windows. The two artists roam alleyways looking for features that pique their interest, committing them to memory with photography.&nbsp; Bhandari and Shakya do not allow the objects to go unnoticed, forever examining details which others frequently overlook. For the artists, rendering everyday entities creates unification through relatability. Their overall message focuses on coexistence and interconnectedness. Specifically how easily accessible, recurring items, visible to all, establish familiarity and speak volumes via silence.&nbsp; The artists inject bits of lived experiences into their reproductions, concealing personal artefacts such as bed sheets or posters within windows. They place humanity upon inanimate objects, allowing for exploration of a unified history.&nbsp; Each window represents a personal memory rather than something imagined, as they are constructed from photographs the artists themselves took. Walking into the gallery feels as if you are entering a collective memory. The approximately 500 wooden windows, with photo transfer and acrylic details, engulf the first floor.&nbsp; The incredible amount of small windows establish an immersive experience, prompting the viewer to question, whose homes are attached, what type of people have lived there and for how long? The diversity of each piece astounds the eye. With so much repetition, how can the individual elements be entirely unique?&nbsp; Windows are a common occurrence, present in any building. Viewing this commonality clustered together reveals the personal rather than architectural elements which make them individualistic.&nbsp; Their quaint Patan studio is on the second floor of a residential building with a blindingly mint green room, slightly dusty from the drills and grinders used for constructing and polishing sculptures.&nbsp; Bhandari says he has always yearned for an artistic lifestyle, whereas Shakya picked up a knack for it after a classroom quarrel regarding his artistic abilities at Kathmandu University where both had the same motivation to capture their surroundings.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250722100712_b1d54221ed9e3806a48a98943e9fd4c80c535957144ce6d94b20e788f4a9a4b7.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250722100712_b1d54221ed9e3806a48a98943e9fd4c80c535957144ce6d94b20e788f4a9a4b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1078" height="1430" loading="lazy" alt="From the outside looking in"> </figure>  The two differ in being native and new to the Patan area. So, is this exhibition about new vs native? Bhandari replied: “The idea of new vs native is no more about new vs native, it’s more about new and native, both the things coexisting together.” This is a metaphorical representation of their windows: what can you know about someone from outside appearances? Each window represents a specific period in time, whether it was constructed yesterday or 20 years ago, whether it houses a young family or one which has lived there for generations. The message is to understand how these elements help us coexist, by placing these varying periods of life centimetres apart from each other. It creates a space in which being surrounded by others is inevitable regardless of differences.&nbsp; Star Ross is an undergraduate at Princeton University studying Medical Anthropology alongside Visual Arts and Climate Science.

From the outside looking in

Seldom do we see the smaller things, read between the lines, and realise that the little, fleeting moments are what shape our realities. As we trace the light &amp; dust, Haru Art Collective’s first group exhibition at Dalai-la Art Space revisits the value of these moments. Through the works of ten artists, the exhibition <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">details our everyday</a>, ordinary lives, making viewers relate, reflect, and bask in nostalgia. One such piece is Moulik Limbu’s यादहरु सपना जस्तो लाग्छ, a dreamy blue landscape rendered in watercolor and gouache where <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/where-wild-things-are">birds and animals</a> emerge subtly through still, royal-azure leaves. As children, Limbu would stay up late with his brother, imagining fantastical creatures from the shadows outside their window, but at dawn, they would discover they were just leaves. Those quiet nights formed lasting memories that continue to tug at Limbu’s heart which he now preserves in his art. Nischal Gurung’s Familiar Echoes captures the soft emotions of togetherness. Whether it is a person or familiar <a href="about:blank">household objects</a> we often overlook, they stay with us. In काक्रा र करेन्ट, the warmth of huddling together for a meal is carefully portrayed, highlighting how closeness often unfolds in the most mundane of moments.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250721130756_b567c9b5559a81bec03ba5417b6967c1f5849b7ddf7f33b4282e8e9479d40b82.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250721130756_b567c9b5559a81bec03ba5417b6967c1f5849b7ddf7f33b4282e8e9479d40b82" data-rendition-name="original" width="776" height="476" loading="lazy" alt="An ode to the ordinary"> <figcaption>Familiar Echoes by Nischal Gurung</figcaption> </figure>  In another piece, Anil Nepali’s work explores the haziness of distant memories. What seems like a normal painting from afar becomes increasingly blurred up close, much like how traffic lights lose clarity when seen through misty eyes. This visual metaphor mirrors Nepali’s own experience of fading recollections from home which he reconstructs through pixelated squares and muted monochrome tones. The result is a powerful reflection on the fragile, fading <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/etched-in-our-memory">nature of memory</a>. Viewers will see the attempt to reconnect with ancestral roots and traditional practices. The Arrival of Bun-Dyo by Kabir Kayastha, depicts the rain god Bunga Dyo during the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain">Rato Maytsendranath Jatra</a>. Meanwhile, Shrayam Shakya explores his lineage's deep connection with land and water in his piece, From the Ground. “The oral traditions and stories of my ancestors become the remnants of the land and the knowledge that existed,” he tells us. At the centre of his exploration is the Yaksha – a nature spirit that embodies land and governs the essence of water. For Shakya, the Yaksha is not just a mythological being but also a symbol of ancestry.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250721130728_4c1c4fb646df20bb7f72bc77dc2e71383468e0dc0a187c69e84a82f67ab49288.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250721130728_4c1c4fb646df20bb7f72bc77dc2e71383468e0dc0a187c69e84a82f67ab49288" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="An ode to the ordinary"> <figcaption>From the Ground by Shrayam Shakya</figcaption> </figure>  Terracotta, the material he uses, reinforces this rootedness. “It is used in the architecture of hitis and is connected to the land, so it carries the essence of the theme.” As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/morals-in-murals">oral histories</a> and traditions continue to fade, Shakya believes art becomes a vital archive. Jyotsna Udas explores themes of femininity in her work. She says, “In my work, I embroider objects <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/of-women-for-women-by-women">tied to femininity</a> – those that adorn, restrain, and define.” Using delicate strands of her own and her family’s hair, she weaves silent but powerful stories of inherited expectations, unspoken rules, and the confined spaces women are told to occupy -- a quiet testament to the strength and complexity of feminine energy. “I cut my hair short every once in a while. It makes me feel free, free from all the burdens, but I get scolded by people at home when I do, or when I dye it,” she tells us. “Long hair is still seen as the beauty standard. Hair colour is taboo. People stare. Women become self-conscious. And when people can judge just based on something as personal as hair, it makes me wonder – how much more do we have to hear in life?”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250721130736_05107d9661e5d210a6c522ed2909b1a93c6dc3f6eb46bb425737e9ce15163e79.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250721130736_05107d9661e5d210a6c522ed2909b1a93c6dc3f6eb46bb425737e9ce15163e79" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="An ode to the ordinary"> <figcaption>Not Just Hair by Jyotsna Udas</figcaption> </figure>  Sadishree Thapa’s A Room that Waits explores the subtle yet profound difference in a house that comes with the presence and absence of a person. When the person is there, it feels like home, otherwise, it is hollow. ‘A room waits, for the warmth of a presence, for the sound that you said were home,’ reads the artist's profound accompanying note. Places Where Dust Settles by Preeti Duwal captures the quiet beauty of everyday household objects, how they gather dust and the silent stories. Rojan Ghimire explores offerings and the subtle traces of life and birth, while Raunak Karanjit’s cyanotype work reflects on memory, identity, and the fading presence of a once-familiar marigold. The artists weave together objects, places, life, and memory, into layered <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-reading-compass">stories</a> shaped by our daily rhythms and reflections, and transform the familiar into the extraordinary. As we trace the light &amp; dust Till July 30 11am-7pm Dalai-la Art Space, Thamel

An ode to the ordinary

हिमालमिडियाले हरेक वर्ष मनाउँदै आएको हिमाल मिडिया मेलाको यो चौथो संस्करणमा उपस्थित सबैलाई स्वागत ।&nbsp; महिनै पिछे विश्वव्यापी सूचना र सञ्चार प्रणालीले अर्को फड्को मारेको हुन्छ। विगत २ महिनामा नै एआई-संचालित उपकरणहरू अचम्मसंग फैलिएका छन।&nbsp; सामाजिक सञ्जालका प्लाटफर्महरुले पाठकहरूलाई परम्परागत समाचार प्रदायकहरूसंग जोडिदिने क्रम जानिजानि घटाउँदै छन।&nbsp; बिग टेकले कन्टे्ट मोडरेसनको संरचना एक पछि अर्को गर्दै हटाएका छन ।&nbsp; यो एल्गोरिथ्म-मय अधिनायकबादले समाजलाई ध्रुवीकृत गर्दै, द्वन्द्व र असहनसिलतालाई बढावा दिएको छ। कलम चलाउने बितिक्कै झम्टी हाल्ने, बोल्योकि क्रोध र ईर्ष्या बर्षिहाल्ने। &nbsp;पत्रकारहरुलाई शत्रु ठान्ने, “१२ भाई” भनेर चिढ्याउने, “डलरबादी” भन्दै धम्क्याउने, “पत्रुकार”को बिल्ला लगाएर ट्रोल गर्ने क्रम बढ्दै छ । तर त्यही नै डिजीटल संजालहरु फेरि उत्पीडनसँग लड्न एक्यबद्यता जुटाउने, र सार्वजनिक हितको पत्रकारिता फैलाउने माध्यम पनि हुन। त्यसैले, अब इन्टरनेट उग्र भयो भनेर त्सलाई नियन्त्रण गर्दा, प्लाटफोर्महरु ब्लक गर्दा — असत्यसंगै सत्यपनि गुम्छ ।&nbsp; कसरी डिजीटल माध्यमहरुमा उपलब्ध अवसरलाई रक्षा गर्दै सामजिक संजालमा हुने उपध्रोलाई नियमन गर्ने। नेपालमा कडा गाइडलाइन र त्यसको पालना खोजिनुपर्छ, बिद्युतिय कारोबार एन प्रयोग गरेर पत्रकारलाई सजाय दिएर होइन। अंग्रेजीमा भन्ने गरिन्छ, अहिलेको नेपालमा सान्दर्भिक होला: “The exercise of my freedom should not violate yours”. Welcome everyone to this fourth edition of Himal Media Mela. The fact that most of you have paid to be here is proof that you value these interactions at a time of accelerated change in the media sphere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250725060748_949591d168fbf38f0e1d39b377b1cba0daeabd526ec387e64cc7eb7820ac9802.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250725060748_949591d168fbf38f0e1d39b377b1cba0daeabd526ec387e64cc7eb7820ac9802" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025"> </figure>  On World Press Freedom Day this year, Reporters without Borders published a map of the world in which each country was colour coded in varying shades of red to match the degree of press freedom there. Most of Asia was a sea of red. Only Japan, Korea — and Nepal — stood out as lonely white islands. Even so, we in Nepal cannot take our freedoms for granted. The forces undermining democracy and freedom of expression through disinformation and fake news are the same people who are also vaccine and climate deniers, warmongers who cheer genocide, fan flames of ultra-nationalism and sectarianism. Swimming against this tide, and fighting the good fight through brave, independent journalism is Manisha Pande of Newslaundry from a neighbouring country to our south with a name that begins with the letter ‘I’.&nbsp; Manisha, we are honoured to have you here, eager to listen to you, and be inspired by your journalism. Welcome.&nbsp; This year’s Media Mela will not dwell too much on the challenges faced by journalism. We all know what they are. So, instead of talkshops, we will have workshops. How can we cover the most important stories that affect the daily lives of Nepalis in such a way that it is watched and read to build public opinion and spur policy reform?&nbsp; In an age when facts do not matter, journalism has to be more proactive and go where the audience is. यसै अवसरको उपयोग गर्दै हिमालमिडिया र यसले लिने नयाँ बाटोको विषयमा अलिकति कुरा पनि राखि हाल्छु। हिमालमिडिया अब मुनाफा वितरण नगर्ने कम्पनीको रूपमा परिणत भएको छ। यसले अझ धेरै &nbsp;व्यक्ति, संस्थाहरूसँग जोडिन र सहकार्य गर्न सहज हुन्छ भन्ने विश्वास लिएका छौँ। यो नयाँ non-profit company मार्फत् हाम्रो पत्रकारिता अझै फराकिलो हुनेछ। समावेशी बन्नेछ। An advance thank you to all the workshop speakers for your time, thank you everyone for participating, and thank you to TikTok for powering this year’s Himal Media Mela. There was a social media post the other day in which someone said (and I quote): “Himal Media Mela powered by TikTok? TikTok requires no attention span, while Himal articles require substantial attention span. This is a bit like a Diabetic Convention powered by Lumbini Chini Karkhana.” जे भएपनि, अन्तमा: आजको कार्यशालाहरुले हामी मिडियाकर्मीहरूलाई एउटा नौलो मौका दिने अपेक्षा राखेका छौँ – कसरी डिजिटल औजारले पत्रकारलाई दिएको उपायहरु सिक्न । धैर्य गरेर सुनिदिनु भएकोमा धन्यबाद। एक पटक फेरि सबै सहभागीहरूमा हार्दिक नमन र स्वागत।&nbsp;

Journalism Reboot

Cabinet Shrestha of Agni Group and investor-slash-mentor was listening to a pitch recently from a bead shop owner from Chitwan on Himalaya TV’s new hit reality show Shark Tank Nepal. Shrestha liked what he heard, and offered Sandhya Gaire Poudel of Sandhya Pote House Rs2 million for 35% equity plus profit with an exit after three years. She had taught herself to make traditional Nepali glass bead necklaces, starting with just Rs5,000 and selling them straight to married women through TikTok. She has trained 5,000 women in necklace making, and with the Rs 2 million investment can expand to take bigger orders all over Nepal. “So after three years, I give you back 20 lakh?” asked Paudel. Cabinet Shrestha laughed and replied: “20 lakh plus profit, म त ब्यापारी हो नि.” Cabinet Shreshta handles the Mahindra dealership and has his hand in many other businesses. Paudel gleefully accepted the Rs2 million offer, and there was applause from the studio audience. Shark Tank Nepal, a franchise reality show, was first launched in Japan in 2001 as ‘Tigers of Money’ and has since been adapted in 54 countries under various names. Entrepreneurs pitch their businesses to a panel of investors, who grill them about the details of their venture before deciding whether or not to extend deals for stakes in the company. This is the first season with 20 episodes of the show in Nepal, each an hour-and-a-half long on Wednesdays and Thursdays on Himalaya TV, and will soon also be streamed on its YouTube Channel. Besides Shrestha, the four other sharks are: Hem Raj Dhakal of IME Group, Ritu Singh Vaidya of VOITH Group, Anand Bagaria of Nimbus, and Saurabh Jyoti of the Padma Jyoti Group of Companies. It is gripping television because the audience does not know which pitch will be successful. It is also educational because it shows what entrepreneurship is all about — all one needs is an idea that flies. But there is a larger message that Shark Tank Nepal is broadcasting: that not everyone is hell bent on leaving the country. “Its a step in the right direction, and a breath of fresh air,” says Ashutosh Tiwari, an entrepreneurship consultant himself. “The businesses are all different: their age, caste, gender, ethnicity, where they were born or raised in Nepal, what they studied (or didn’t study), and what work they’ve done.” He continues, “It also shows on national tv the important skill of having to persuade absolute strangers to invest in you. Business plans and advising events is great, but the real help for entrepreneurs comes from the exchange of other people’s cold hard cash that they are accountable for.” Social media is also a major player in the show. Not only as a medium to promote Shark Tank, with behind-the-scenes and meet-the-shark type content but also as a place where a lot of the businesses being pitched sell their goods. Most of the business ideas are related to tech, food and beverage, or clothing and skincare, and many of the entrepreneurs are women. Some of the more interesting pitches include a dehydrated carrot cake, a completely organic and bio-degradable skincare brand, and a couple who turned interior design careers into a booming furniture business. One of the biggest deals accepted was Hem Raj Dhakal’s decision to invest Rs60 million in the tech company Veda which started off as a simple notification app facilitating communication between schools and parents, and grew into an international company that provides complete employee resources for schools including payroll and analytics for student performance data.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250724130728_cfd2ca117499c0613fa271970aeac37b6e04c6a9f3194510c6b9253805746dd8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250724130728_cfd2ca117499c0613fa271970aeac37b6e04c6a9f3194510c6b9253805746dd8" data-rendition-name="original" width="928" height="594" loading="lazy" alt="Swimming with sharks "><figcaption>Photo: VEDA/ FACEBOOK </figcaption></figure>  “I feel that the sharks have learned as much from the pitchers that they have gotten from us,” says Shrestha. “We’ve learned a lot about markets that we have no expertise in. They have gotten us back in touch about how the younger generation is thinking.” Shrestha notes that Nepalis seem to be naturally gifted at tech, and he likes to see how the pitchers have ‘localised’ or put their own twists on business ideas. The show has received a lot of positive feedback, especially from young Nepalis studying abroad, some of whom may now be thinking of moving back. Despite its popularity, Shark Tank Nepal took a long time to get sponsors and entrepreneurs. Director Simosh Sunuwar, known for his adventure-based reality show Himalayan Roadies, says: “It was hard to get participants who were afraid that their business ideas would get stolen with Nepal’s weak trademark laws. Of the applications we did receive, many did not meet all the criteria. Some were missing balance sheets…” Sunuwar says given how busy the Sharks are, it was difficult to find a stretch of time in which they were all free. “Even when we have them, their phones are going off non-stop,” he says. The solution was a fifteen-day stretch that worked for all Sharks, with multiple sets of clothes for continuity. By the end, the Sharks were shooting up to 15 hours a day, hearing up to 13 pitches a day. While all the shooting is done early, post-production editing for clarity and length is still ongoing as the episodes air. Like all of reality TV, how much of Shark Tank Nepal is scripted? Tiwari thinks that the show feels “slick, a little over scripted at times”. Sunuwar reveals that it is a mix: “As director, I do have to coach the pitchers and the Sharks on how to say certain things, but at the end of the day the Sharks are who they are and they are all very nice and genuine people. My job is to make them comfortable being themselves. They get nervous too.” The Sharks are quick to sniff out iffy businesses, like a skincare brand that was only packaged in Nepal and claimed competitors were misrepresenting ingredients. The Nepali version of Shark Tank may lack the drama of the US version, and the Sharks do not live up to the ruthless reputation of the sea predator. This means it is a feel-good show that Nepali audiences prefer. When bowing out of deals, the Sharks are exceedingly graceful, often offering other sorts of help such as networking or contacts to soften the ‘no’. OLD MONEY Two or more Sharks often go in together on joint deals, maybe because there are only so many ‘shark-level’ entrepreneurs in Nepal. The funniest parts of the show are when Sharks talk ‘candidly’ in between pitches. But more shark-like Sharks would give the show a more dramatic feel. In one case, the Sharks agree to fund a business that repackages sanitary pads for ‘CSR’ purposes, which betrays the premise of the show. Some of the criticism online about the choice of Sharks is that besides Hem Raj Dhakal, they all come from old money families, and had considerable head starts in life and business. “But you can’t fault this right now,” says Tiwari, “there are very few self-made successful entrepreneurs in Nepal, and trading is a legitimate business that has made multimillionaires in the alcohol business in the US, for example.” The friendlier Sharks do make for more deals, though. In the first season, investment from the Sharks totaled Rs400 million, in contrast to Rs420 million in the Indian version of the show and Rs170 million for the Bangladesh version. While the show is pioneering, Tiwari notes that it is more glamorous, and glosses over the gritty parts of business in Nepal. “The reality is that there is a government, and a registrar that you have to visit every year. There are rental taxes, penalties, and fines. Businesses don’t get immediate payments, and are often only profitable on paper, which makes it very difficult for them to operate. The investment that they get from the Sharks will give them some working capital, some oxygen.” Director Sunuwar is grateful for the reception: “It’s great that viewers have welcomed Shark Tank, and I hope it will encourage young entrepreneurs. We’re already getting applications for the next season, and I am excited to make it better, perhaps with different sharks.”

Swimming with Sharks

Nepalis are living longer than ever. By 2028, the country is set to join the ranks of other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-demographic-window-is-closing">ageing societies</a> around the world, and by 2054, 1 out of every 7 people in Nepal will be over 65. Life expectancy at birth has risen dramatically from just 55 in 1990 to 71 today, &nbsp;thanks to improvements in public health and access. But as more people live longer, the country must also prepare for a parallel rise in age-related illnesses and the complex social and medical needs that come with an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/need-to-prepare-for-ageing-society,3624">ageing population</a>. Extended families have always acted as a safety net for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/home-sweet-home-for-older-nepalis">the elderly</a>, with children and grandchildren shouldering most caregiving duties. But with more than 1,600 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis">Nepalis migrating </a>every day, older parents are left behind with no one to care for them. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-new-equaliser">Remittances</a> from migrating youth, which account for nearly a third of Nepal’s GDP, have kept the economy afloat. But money sent home cannot make up for the chronic departure of kin and caregivers, who are often the first to catch the signs and symptoms of disease in elders. In rural areas where over 85% of Nepal’s elderly live, the absence of this daily vigilance means early signs of illness often go unnoticed until they become debilitating. As a result, chronic conditions like hypertension, diabetes, and depression are left unmanaged.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250720130748_213f2c65f2638872e9ac0550a7ac251e4960c3726dc5c76215962a23ba71dff1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1064" height="701" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Geriatric medicine is largely absent from medical curricula and there is no national plan in place to manage cognitive decline, memory loss and confusion. These are often mistaken for signs of normal ageing, instead of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/dementia-brings-new-problem-that-families-have-little%20knowledge-of,2151">dementia</a>, delaying care until it is too late. The same pattern plays out with strokes, osteoarthritis, and vision problems — conditions that could be managed early but are instead allowed to spiral into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/changing-disability-to-this-ability-h68f6sq2">disability</a>. Nepal is not ready for an older future. It needs a strategy for ‘smart ageing’ where the focus is not adding years to life, but enhancing years lived through the intelligent application of policy, infrastructure, and crucially, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/tech-and-transition-in-nepal">technology</a>. Many models of smart ageing, however, are sculpted around modern societies where independent living in later life is the norm. Furthermore, eroding traditional family care and an underdeveloped formal care system means there is a large gap that can’t simply be filled by copy-pasting from foreign models. Nepal must shape its own version of smart ageing. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/healthcare-moving-from-hospitals-to-homes?%2F">tech boom</a> has led to homegrown digital healthcare apps such as Hamro Doctor, Cura Health, Jeevee and Health Yaad Ayo which offer teleconsultations, online appointments, and at-home test bookings. As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/nepal-s-new-digital-landscape">smartphones and internet access</a> extend to the most rural fringes of the Nepali countryside, geography is no longer a barrier to the use of these digital tools. What limits their use is the lack of digital proficiency among the older generation. Others find the idea of turning to a device instead of a familiar, reassuring face unfathomable. That is why <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/addressing-nepals-digital-divide?ref=blog.togglecorp.com">digital literacy</a> efforts must be paired with guided human support to build trust alongside technical skill. Such a model of community-led digital mediation is already gaining traction elsewhere. In the UK, ‘digital health ambassadors’—often young people or even schoolchildren—are trained to co-design and advocate for online platforms that resonate with peers who might otherwise feel excluded from automated health services. A Nepali version could engage cohorts of nursing students, tech-savvy youngsters and returnee migrants to assist elders in navigating digital health platforms and troubleshooting problems, and most of all, normalising the idea of health apps being a reliable recourse.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250720130748_fcb94ab76e76b5574189757e88d76fccad4e115e78dd9eae92a3bd4c882c3431" data-rendition-name="original" width="2246" height="1590" loading="lazy" alt="Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier"> </figure>  Nepal’s own network of Female Community Health Volunteers (FCHVs), whose credibility is rooted in long-standing relationships across rural communities, could be similarly upskilled, their roles in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/target-2030-for-maternal-and-newborn-health">maternal and child health </a>expanded and repurposed to also include geriatric tech support. However, there is a limit to how much older adults can adapt to new technologies. So, Nepal should simultaneously invest in passive technologies—tools that monitor and act for the elderly, instead of demanding active use. That is where wearables and in-home smart health devices collectively known as 'gerontechnology' come in. Picture an 82-year-old in far-flung Rolpa, away from the facilities of an urban hospital. Installed in her home are low-cost motion sensors that monitor prolonged inactivity or signs of a fall, instantly triggering alerts to the nearest health post when necessary. On her wrist, a wearable bracelet continuously tracks her sleep, vital signs, oxygen saturation, and glucose levels. This data is encrypted and synced to a digital dashboard accessible by health staff at the local post. If the system flags an acute risk—such as a potential stroke or hypoglycemia—a nearby health worker is dispatched immediately to her home. If her readings over time indicate a trend toward a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/why-do-so-many-nepalis-have-high-blood-pressure">chronic condition</a> like diabetes, community health volunteers step in. They help schedule a virtual consultation with an endocrinologist in Butwal. Based on the advice received, she gets a prescription and picks up her medication from the local community pharmacy, along with a smart dispenser to ensure she sticks to her treatment plan without missing doses. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. Many of the individual devices forming this connected medical system called an Internet of Medical Things (IoMT) already exist in Nepal as imported commercial products. What is missing is a stronger framework for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/business/public-health-partnership">public-private collaboration</a>: one where health tech companies continue developing locally adapted tools, and the government actively integrates these innovations into public health delivery. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">Nepal’s tech ecosystem</a> is maturing, but policymaking must evolve in tandem, especially when it affects an older generation largely resistant to change. The backlash against the recent mandate requiring National Identity Cards for accessing social security benefits revealed the pitfalls of imposing top-down reforms without adequate preparation or support for seniors. For Nepalis to age well, community caregivers, doctors, innovators, and above all, the state, must step in where families have stepped away. The goal is not to replicate traditional care, but to build a coordinated system of support that connects everyone through technology. The future is older for Nepal, let us be wiser too. The writers are pursuing their undergraduate studies in biomedical engineering at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Smart ageing is Nepal’s next frontier

The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">Bhote Kosi flood </a>this month was a stark warning of the increased risk to Nepal’s hydropower plants due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">climate breakdown</a>, and the disaster has prompted a rethinking into solar energy options. Nepal has pursued an energy strategy that relies almost totally on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-first-hydropower-from-a-glacial-lake">hydroelectricity</a>, but grid-scale solar power is becoming cheaper and offers a viable alternative. Solar energy accounts for a mere 0.1% of Nepal’s total installed generation of nearly 3,800MW. The rest of the world can now afford solar power because of China’s production. The price of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">solar panels</a> has gone down by up to 90% in the past decade. “One advantage of solar over hydro is the speed at which projects can be set up,” says Kushal Gurung of WindPower, “a 100MW hydro might take ten years to build, while a solar plant of the same capacity can be set up in six months.” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/disasters-in-nepal-come-in-waves">Landslides, floods and earthquakes </a>frequently damage hydropower stations. The Rasuwa flood last week affected 230MW of generation capacity from four plants along the Trisuli. Last September’s flood badly damaged the 456MW Upper Tama Kosi.&nbsp; The <a href="about:blank">Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) </a>and private power producers lost much revenue, and Nepal had to stop exporting monsoon <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/securing-nepal-s-electric-future?%3Dhttps://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/securing-nepal-s-electric-future?%3D">surplus electricity</a> to India last year. Damaged solar projects, on the other hand, can be up and running after repairs within a few weeks.&nbsp; “The main limitation of solar is land,” explains Gurung. “While a relatively small hydro project can generate 5-10MW pretty easily, a 1MW solar plant requires 500 m2 of land.”&nbsp; Where the plant is situated matters as well. The best region is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang</a>, because it gets the most solar radiation per unit area over a specific period. The Tarai may get a lot of sun but cloud cover, fog and pollution makes it less ‘irradiated’. The efficiency of a photovoltaic cell also drops, the higher the ambient temperature. “A 1kW panel in Mustang might give you 6-7 units per day, while the same panel in the Tarai would give you half that,” says Gurung.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025072007078_a3d7a85cd25d15db78077a60a62d121a2e6aa8c7a669e13345297be142272333.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025072007078_a3d7a85cd25d15db78077a60a62d121a2e6aa8c7a669e13345297be142272333" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="810" loading="lazy" alt="Here comes the sun"> </figure>  Another advantage for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">solar in Nepal</a> is how decentralised it can be. An unreliable grid and difficult terrain make it hard to build <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/hydrocarbon-to-hydropower">hydropower stations</a> and transmission lines, but home solar systems can be set up easily and provide reliable energy especially when paired with batteries for &nbsp;morning and the night.&nbsp; Hydropower dams submerge large tracts of fertile valleys, impact ecosystems and displace people. But NEA and energy producers are locked into hydro, and are reluctant to shift to solar.&nbsp; <a href="https://ghampower.com/">GhamPower</a> is moving into solar in a big way, offering strategic funding to make panels available to poorer communities, and setting up solar microgrids.&nbsp; The company was one of ten winners, out of 2,500 applicants, of the $50,000 Keeling Curve Prize which honours high-impact <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-can-lead-in-zero-carbon">clean energy solutions</a>.&nbsp; The company sets up solar water pumps for farmers so that they can access water from boring wells year-round. It also set up solar systems that can power equipment needed during and after birthing such as baby warmers, incubators, sterilisers in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/this-is-how-to-upgrade-nepals-rural-health">remote health posts</a>. &nbsp; “Industries generally have large, unused rooftop spaces ideal for solar systems that can help reduce <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-electricity-demand-soars">electricity bills</a>,” says Pradip Humagain at Gham Power but points out a flaw in national policy, which caps the capacity of a solar power plant for a particular industry at 1MW. “This limitation makes no sense, and removing it would actually help the NEA by making them better able to provide electricity to industry.”&nbsp; Nepal’s energy mix should be expanded to other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">renewables</a> like solar, wind and even geothermal to reduce the risk of catastrophic damage to hydropower generation in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up">future glacial floods</a>. Reverse metering would allow solar producers to sell electricity to the grid, and time-of-day tariff would balance load. “Our energy policy is heavily biased: 90% hydro, and 10% ‘other’,” says Gurung, “we should aim for at least 30% solar.” Net metering involves <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-roof-is-the-limit">solar rooftop systems </a>that are connected to the grid, which would allow people to ‘export’ surplus energy generated during the day. This would offset the price of electricity the household uses at other times of the day, and the grid would essentially be like a battery.&nbsp; But NEA is fixated on hydro and has opposed net metering for decades, seeing it as a threat. The government actually passed a net metering policy in 2018, but the NEA never properly adopted it.&nbsp; In fact, despite hardly any solar energy systems that allow net metering having been installed, the NEA changed it to a ‘net billing’ system that makes exported energy cheaper than energy used in the home instead of a 1:1 offset.&nbsp; Then the NEA quietly dropped all net metering in July 2022. This blindsided consumers and developers who had implemented such systems, the distrust scared away <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/can-nepal-be-the-powerhouse-of-asia?fbclid=IwAR15ylL8qfMfhWxHahQYOj1e1WQjS6N7Ljs42cR9UDSw0fGRndr-M7c6lf0">potential future investors</a>.&nbsp; The technology is affordable, but solar energy needs political will in Nepal. The policy should be to generate as much renewable energy as possible, instead of making solar and hydro compete. Even more efficient than solar energy is wind power. In terms of area needed, wind is even more cost-effective, and much easier to set up than hydro. India and China are already the biggest producers of wind turbine blades. Even though Nepal lacks coastlines where wind power is most efficient, there are places in the trans-Himalaya where it is viable. The only problem is the lack of roads, says Gurung. This article 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.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250307140328_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250307140328_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>  &nbsp;

Here comes the sun

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Twenty years ago this week, we reported about how malnutrition was indirectly responsible for 70% of all child mortality in Nepal, and how inadequate food increased susceptibility to diarrhoea, measles and acute respiratory infection.
In 2025, malnutrition is still one of the biggest causes of child mortality, except now it is not simply a lack of food but also too much junk food in the diet. Purchasing power has increased, but we are eating more of what we should not be eating.
Excerpt of a <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=570">report </a>published in <a href="https://d1i1jdw69xsqx0.cloudfront.net/digitalhimalaya/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_256.pdf">issue #256 15 – 21 July 2005</a>:
Despite recent official statements about rising average living standards, grinding poverty and the conflict, the effects of junk food in cities have made undernourishment and malnutrition a serious national epidemic.
Protein-energy malnutrition affects 63 percent of Nepali children which means they don't get enough food to ensure normal physical and mental development. More than half of Nepali children are therefore physically stunted, and although this is reversible if the child starts eating enough after age two, they may suffer learning disabilities as well if undernourishment persists .
Hunger increases their susceptibility to diarrhoea, measles and acute respiratory infection. Diarrhoeal dehydration alone causes an estimated 30,000 child deaths every year as undernourished children are weaker and more likely to be brought down by the vicious spiral of disease and malnutrition. Combined with worms, undernourishment is seen by many as Nepal's primary health concern for children.
Malnutrition hits many Nepali children even before they are born because their mothers don't have adequate food while pregnant. Between 30-50 percent of Nepali children are born underweight, below 2.5 kg.
For archived material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/">nepalitimes.com</a>

Malnutrition

Many of us former Nepal Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) would agree that our time in Nepal changed in significant but very different ways our perspectives on life if not the future paths we chose to follow. Of no one was this truer than Dorothy Mierow. Dorothy was born in 1920, in Colorado Springs. Her father Charles C Mierow was a classics scholar and Latin professor, who served for ten years as president of Colorado College.&nbsp; Dorothy developed an interest in animals as a child, graduated with a BA degree in natural history from Carlton College in 1942, a Master’s in biology from the University of Pittsburgh, and another Master’s in geography from the University of Minnesota.&nbsp; As a young woman, Dorothy traveled with her father throughout Europe, including a visit to ancient Greek ruins, and took a Magellan Tour by cruise ship around the world in 1958.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025071901074_0bad133ab22aada319e74bbad95d563e191371db291c08f373839fbd15440262" data-rendition-name="original" width="903" height="1178" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>HOME AWAY FROM HOME: Dorothy Mierow as a college student in her native Colorado.</figcaption> </figure>  She was a college teacher during much of the 1940s, also teaching at a girls’ school in Hawaii. Then back to her native Colorado in 1953, where she became a curator and later director of the Colorado College Natural History Museum. She taught geography classes, and in her free time, Dorothy climbed 22 of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks. Traveling in India in 1960, Dorothy decided to spend two weeks in Nepal. In late 1961, she filled out an application to join the Peace Corps and specified that she wanted to go to Nepal, ‘because I admired the people so much when my father and I were there on our trip’.&nbsp; Dorothy reached Kathmandu in September 1962 as the first group of American Peace Corps volunteers in Nepal. She stood out from the others: one of the few women in that group, surely the oldest at age 41, a world traveler, and a woman who already had established a professional career.&nbsp; One doubts if Dorothy had had a husband and children whether she would ever have gone to work and spend much of the rest of her life in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025071901078_68e84ade1ffb0f6c83c7f8fa5c1e7315b5f6c543217f96cde012e4d86f171515" data-rendition-name="original" width="1259" height="910" loading="lazy" alt="How th Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life NT"> <figcaption>Pokhara Bazar in 1962.</figcaption> </figure>  The Peace Corps assigned Dorothy to teach geography at Tri-Chandra College. After the school closed in the winter due to lack of heating, USAID and the College of Education asked Dorothy to help train general science teachers.&nbsp; She taught for two months and became involved in a textbook-writing project, commenting: ‘I would like the children to know something about public health, conservation (the trees are going fast and so is the soil), and learn the names of some of their common birds, trees, and flowers. They are more impressed with electricity, airplanes, and cell structure.’ When a new college opened in Pokhara in 1963, Dorothy was transferred there and lived with a Nepali family. The college boasted 30 students and no permanent buildings.&nbsp; In October 1963, Dorothy wrote: ‘Pokhara is a town of almost 5,000 people … We are in a fertile valley surrounded by foothills … There is a small Mission Hospital … a Leper Hospital and Tibetan Refugee Camp started by the Red Cross and now run by the Swiss. With winter approaching, more Tibetans are appearing in town, often with pack horses or donkeys. Some have been carrying large boxes of powdered milk,donated (by USAID) to the camp from the airport … There is no electricity, and the transportation problems make many items scarce and expensive. I am really a sort of a museum. The landlord brings all kinds of people in to see how I live and count my shoes and dresses. They express amazement at my books, pictures, tin oven, Nepali dolls from Kathmandu, screened food shelves and curtained closet.’ The standard term for Peace Corps volunteers was two years, but Dorothy extended her term and was still at Prithvi Narayan College at the end of 1965, when she wrote that she had 20 Geography students in the first-year class and 6 in the second year preparing for the IA Examination. The college enrollment was 125 students, and the foundation for a new science building was being excavated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025071901074_c6a80e5e0db0c705b2f8733c6d30dc0386fe3abbd2238ea9d947b7d746f94a29" data-rendition-name="original" width="902" height="605" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow and friends at Phewa Lake.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy noted that she ate one meal a day at the (Shining Mission) Hospital but otherwise lived on dal-bhat, momo, and potato curry at local shops. However, she had developed a new passion: to build what she initially called the Pokhara Museum of the Himalaya. In commendable Peace Corps fashion, Dorothy always worked with Nepalis and respected the culture. ‘The greatest joy and satisfaction I have had has been from the building of a Museum-Library in memory of my parents … It has been possible to feel like a wealthy benefactor with the money saved by father for the family’s education and now available for the education of others… (Father) would have loved to be in on the founding of a new college and be able to plan a library. Several hundred of the books to be in the museum-library came from his collection and were carefully selected to be of use for students in Nepal…’&nbsp; ‘The museum part is to satisfy my own inclinations and was thought of when I found how little diversion there was for the people of Pokhara… It is part of the University requirements for the college that it should have a geography and biology museum. The museum building is small but adequate.&nbsp; I have tried to design it in harmony with Nepalese architecture and decorate it with some of the art of the best artists or woodcarvers… Posts holding up the porch roof are carved by Cottage Industries to represent different peoples of Nepal in typical costumes. The door was carved by a local wood carver and has typical birds of Nepal around it. Inside are 10 roof-support carvings designed by the retired Director of the National Museum in Kathmandu, Mr. C.M. Maskey.&nbsp; They were carved by the best wood carvers in Patan very skilfully. The building has three rooms: the library, the exhibition room, and a smaller workroom which can be used by our newly formed Woman’s Club as well as other groups or classes.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025071901074_03d3359c65389d30a0134e9a4862778994121e7e833b7d28b18e06e36fc76ff8" data-rendition-name="original" width="629" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow with local women in Pokhara in 1969.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy promoted her project to influential Nepalis connected with organisations whose support she solicited: The Department of Archaeology, the Department of Agriculture, the Godavari Botanical Gardens; Tribhuvan University’s Science and Education Department, Nature Conservation Society.&nbsp; The museum was opened officially in early 1967. The Annapurna Natural History Museum, the building Dorothy designed and had constructed, is still open and features some exhibits which she created many years ago.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025071901074_54326a8a0685e980e782378076de2f5cd02d2426e9b0d94eed972d3dbe83af26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>The Annapurna Natural History Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy returned to America in 1967, but she longed for Nepal. In the spring of 1969, she again tried to enroll as a Peace Corps volunteer but was told that as she had spent more than four years, she would not be eligible for another assignment. Undeterred, she persuaded the college in Pokhara to invite her to return as a teacher.&nbsp; UNICEF and the Forestry Department sponsored Dorothy to prepare charts on trees, birds, animals and flowers in colour for distribution to the schools of Nepal. Dorothy, back in the Peace Corps, returned to Pokhara and the Museum in 1972. She formed a friendship with her former geography student from Sikles, Chandra Prasad Gurung, and in 1974, she brought Chandra to America, where he enrolled in Colorado College and studied cultural anthropology.&nbsp; Chandra subsequently earned his PhD in geography from the University of Hawaii and returned to Pokhara to become director of the Annapurna Conservation Area Project. Gurung actively promoted ecotourism, landscape conservation, and biodiversity conservation in Nepal. His life was cut short along with those of 23 other Nepalis and foreigners who perished in a helicopter crash near Taplejung in September 2006.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025071901074_322d3c3ac6f1b08ffa07c44a19998b937a7db9eb43527f7539cf6481e1546314" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer's life"> <figcaption>Mierow's four books on Nepal and its biodiversity. </figcaption> </figure>  Dorothy worked with several well-known Nepalis to publish her paintings and photos in beautifully illustrated books. She and Hemanta Mishra of the National Parks and Wildlife Service wrote Wild Animals of Nepal (Ratna Pustak Bhandar, 1976). More than 400 photos Dorothy took on treks to the Everest region, Gosaikunda, Muktinath, Jumla and Rara Lake, as well as travels in the Tarai, appeared in Himalayan Flowers and Trees (Sahayogi Prakashan, 1978).&nbsp; The botanist Tirtha Bahadur Shrestha identified the species. Dorothy and Kesar Lall published This Beautiful Nepal (Sahayogi Press, 1981). Birds of the Central Himalayas (1988) contained Dorothy’s paintings of 250 species of birds found along the areas of the Kali Gandaki River, Pokhara, Chitwan and the central Tarai. Dorothy summed up her life and work in Nepal in Thirty Years in Pokhara (Pilgrims Book House, 1997). Dorothy returned to Pokhara and her adopted Gurung family several times during the 1980s and 1990s to celebrate festivals and meet old friends. Her final years were spent at her mountain cottage in Green Mountain Falls north of Colorado Springs. She died at the age of 79 in August, 2000. Nepal gave new meaning and purpose to Dorothy Mierow’s life. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. The author thanks Special Collections, Tutt Library, Colorado College.

How the Peace Corps changed a volunteer’s life

· On the night of 15 May, two glacial lakes burst in Tharka in Humla and the debris flow washed away homes and bridges.&nbsp; · Last week, a slurry surge on the Kali Gandaki in Upper Mustang caused at least Rs15 million in damage, and was traced to a melting glacier. · Dozens are feared dead after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">an expanding glacial lake in Tibet overflowed</a>, sweeping down into Nepal and damaging four hydropower plants generating 230MW, nearly 8% of the country’s total grid supply.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250718060748_45225dc707c1e9c2968ca8dbf6e564e01e4eb6e2ff254fb8eb940cf62cdd910b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2667" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Rasuwa flood"> <figcaption>Miteri friendship bridge connecting Nepal and China was swept away in the Rasuwa flood. Photo: PRAKASH CHANDRA TIMILSENA / NPL</figcaption> </figure>  And those are just in the past month. Climate scientists say Himalayan glacial lake outbursts are becoming more frequent and destructive, and a warning for Nepal not to put all its eggs in the hydropower basket.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">Record precipitation last September</a> unleashed floods that killed 200 people, and temporarily slashed Nepal’s total generation capacity of 3,000MW by nearly half. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepal-valley-suffers-quadruple-disaster">Melamchi flood of 2021</a> caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">permafrost melting</a> on a glacier upstream nearly destroyed a $800 million water supply scheme, Nepal’s largest infrastructure project which four years later still has not resumed full operation. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">glacial lake overflow in Sikkim</a> caused by record rainfall in September 2023 that destroyed the $1.2 billion Chungthung Dam and caused catastrophic damage to infrastructure on the Teesta River. This was a warning to the cascade of hydropower plants on the Arun and Marsyangdi river basins.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250718060736_6f61797a6be308321e3bae26e55d2f64cba4b9e5eb262adacb9e92fb5f3c6152" data-rendition-name="original" width="919" height="549" loading="lazy" alt="hydro disasters and hydropower plants"> </figure>  Nepal has set a target of generating an additional 28,500MW by 2035 -- out of the feasible 48,000MW -- but how viable is an energy strategy that is exposed to heightened risk due to climate breakdown? &nbsp; “As extreme weather events increase, we must design and build infrastructures respecting river flow and topography,” says former Energy Secretary Dwarika Nath Dhungel. “We must make the best use of our water resources, but not by letting excavators loose everywhere mining riverbeds and building haphazardly where we shouldn’t.”&nbsp; Although no project can be disaster-proof, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">climate smart design</a> can minimise damage from flash floods and landslides. Recent disasters have driven up insurance premiums for energy projects in Nepal, and smaller ones cannot even afford them. The 456MW Upper Tamakosi hydroelectric project which is still not fully functional after the September floods has claimed insurance worth Rs1.8 billion. The alternative to high risk high investment hydropower projects is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-s-cooking-in-nepal-besides-politics">energy diversification</a> to other renewables such as solar, wind or biogas. Nepal gets annual sunlight of 300 days with 6-7 hours on average to total 50,000 terawatt-hours (TWh) per year.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250718060744_4acd452b4117180ca9bb5d3be839ff46dfd5464e4d507f5ad3704cef6253bc48" data-rendition-name="original" width="1080" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="solar power"> <figcaption>Farmers in Tarai using solar powered water pump. Photo: GHAMPOWER</figcaption> </figure>  The Solar and Wind Energy Resource Assessment (SWERA) calculates that Nepal could source 3,000MW from wind energy alone, considering 10% of the area with more than 300W/m2 wind power density. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Solar energy</a> stations are cheaper and quicker to build, and would be an ideal alternative to reliance on hydropower.&nbsp; “There has been some investment in solar power, especially from the state sector,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “But there is an issue of land acquisition since the arrays need a lot of space. It is comparatively easier to get a permit to put up a hydropower plant on a river.” As for biogas, there is simply no incentive to build on past success with household level plants to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/more-bullshit">promote industrial-scale production</a>. Scaling up biogas by integrating it with urban biodegradable waste would still be a viable alternative to LPG.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250718060744_715d44afd5eb4ba8dafa209b0ad0f19400665797b5f078f5636821e600f96684" data-rendition-name="original" width="1419" height="954" loading="lazy" alt="windmill"> <figcaption>A wind mill in Hapsikot in Nawalpur. Photo: WINPOWER NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s public sphere is buzzing with excitement over the discovery of potentially 430 billion cubic metres of methane gas beneath Dailekh district that, if properly harnessed, would meet the country’s energy demand for the next 50 years. Even though a feasibility study is awaited, politicians from the prime minister down see this as a petro bonanza that will make Nepal rich. But drilling, storage and distribution of CNG in the country’s current kleptocratic state make that unlikely. If Nepal was to get rich solely on its hydro-energy potential, it could have done so in the past 50 years. Says Dhungel: “This is not exactly a new discovery, but it is premature to celebrate until its extraction is proven to be cost effective. And let us hope it does not get <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/balance-of-power">tangled in geopolitics</a>, since China is involved in the prospecting and drilling, which could make India uneasy.”&nbsp; The country suffers from the Dutch Disease curse even before its resource is fully exploited. And the same cronyism, corruption and rent-seeking structure cannot deliver the riches we expect from Dailekh’s methane discovery. Now, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/right-climate-for-nepal-s-energy-transition">with hydropower in jeopardy</a>, Nepal’s planners will have to evolve a new strategy for energy security into the future. But first, governance needs to be cleaned up with long-term strategic planning that takes climate risk into account. For example, do we need to mine fossil gas when there are renewable options? Will Dailekh take Nepal away from its climate commitments? Says Madhukar Upadhyay: “Nepal has always been resource rich and management poor. And the larger the resource, the bigger our management incapacity. It is a societal malaise.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s Resource Curse

चौतारा rest stops have long been an integral part of scenic touristic town of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-six-decades-ago">Pokhara </a>but are now rarely seen as the city bursts at the seams. They say inhabitants of Pokhara saw a plane before they saw cars. Indeed, the grass airfield was built in the 1950s, while the Kathmandu highway 20 years later. Before roads, people walked to get around, pausing to rest or even nap under the shade of banyan-pipal trees. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-s-desperation-and-hope">Pokhara airport’</a>s ‘terminal’ in those days was a shady chautara where passengers waited for their flights. The chautara bore silent witness to daily life, whether it was travellers seeking a brief respite from the summer heat or villagers gathering for a chat in the mornings and evenings. But with the roads came vehicles, and then houses started filling up spaces, even farmlands. Pokhara began transforming from a serene village to a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/pokhara-comes-alive-at-night">bustling city</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250719010724_d101fa482441ce67afdf5bc4e4547b334e7662c1cf0a20e9d31a0e8dff66f04b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2147" height="1581" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  The banyan-pipal trees were chopped down to make way for wider intersections and buildings. The once-iconic rest stops that carried Pokhara’s identity had all but vanished. “Building chautara was once considered a religious duty, which is why so many of them were constructed across Pokhara,” says archivist Sunil Ulak. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10927">Ekai Kawaguchi</a>, a Japanese Buddhist monk, who visited Nepal 120 years ago en route to Tibet, documented <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/no-visitors-in-pokhara-to-admire-view">the landscape of Pokhara</a> and its surroundings. In his book, Three Years in Tibet, he reflects on the natural beauty of the town and its shady trees. A chautara used to be surrounded by ponds, where shepherds would bring their cattle to drink from while they took a nap under the shade. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze lent a soothing melody as did the chirping of birds, while the insects took refuge in the branches and leaves. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pokhara-800-years-ago">Pokhara 800 years ago</a>, Kunda Dixit This ‘nature’s breeze’, as botanist Kalyan Panta puts it, is now history due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/cost-of-living-in-a-big-city">haphazard urbanisation</a>. “When the wind strikes against one leaf, it creates a domino effect and other leaves start waving as well,” he explains. There were 632 chautara in the city until 1977, and by 2000 the number had fallen to 278. But in some wards the number of trees fell from 55 in 1984 to only five now.&nbsp; The gradual loss of these resting places has meant habitat <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/between-existence-and-extinction-in-nepal">destruction of birds and insects</a>, it has also damaged the environment and natural beauty of the city.&nbsp; Researcher Jagannath Adhikari’s study showed that infrastructure projects ignored the environment, and concluded that that urbanisation in Pokhara was unsustainable.&nbsp; The destruction continues to this day. Recently, old chaurata in wards 6, 13 and 14 were cleared to make way for a sacrificial ritual. In fact, ward 6 got a permit from the local government to clear its remaining trees.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250719010724_cee1d4faf8376e7ba18b9c7012ea4215b7c3fbf7e0983b0c97005df5567d6de0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Trees of life and living NT"> <figcaption>Photo: DURGA RANA MAGAR</figcaption> </figure>  But in wards 13 and 14, the Human Service Foundation cut down some 33 trees for which it is in a dispute with the metropolitan city as there is no unclear jurisdiction regarding who gives the permit. The Kaski Division Forest Office is currently investigating the matter. Elsewhere in ward 19, the ward office had launched ‘मेरो रूख, म काट्छु’ campaign due to an alleged chaos caused by monkeys in the area. The decision was rescinded after an all-around opposition.&nbsp; To be sure, there are policies in place to protect trees such as the Gandaki Province Forestry Act, 2080, and the Regulations, 2081. The province government also introduced an act in 2019 per which no tree, including pipal, silk cotton and other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/suburban-tales/trees-trees?%2F">trees of natural and historical importance</a> shall be damaged, eroded or removed. But the local government, responsible for implementing the Act, is doing the opposite. “If this rapid rate of tree felling continues, neither trees nor chautara will survive for the future generation,” conservationist Ram Bahadur Poudel tells us, adding that old trees are being cleared under the pretext of pruning branches. Interestingly, Ulak notes that Pokhara-8 was called सिमलचौर in the past because there were so many majestic silk cotton trees, but there are very few left, if any, and hence altering the identity of a place. With modernisation, people have questioned the significance of chautara in this day and age. But they still have relevance. Urban centres in Pokhara and Kathmandu are much hotter than the outskirts because of the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/in-the-heat-of-the-moment-5xcycyot">urban heat island effect</a>. Says archivist Ulak: “While their original purpose was to provide rest, today they continue to play a crucial role in regulating temperature, beautifying the city, and preserving our environment.”

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