It was a bitterly cold night in January 1980, and I was guarding the family's gilded Dipañkara Buddha image at Kathmandu Darbar Square. The white palace wall was defaced with political graffiti, a sign of the anti-Panchayat street demonstrations that were going on at the time. It was also the occasion for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/samyak-mahadan">Samyaka Mahādāna</a>, a 12-yearly mega alms-giving Buddhist festival usually graced by the head of state.&nbsp; I was supposed to collect the money offered by devotees who thronged there to pay homage to Dipañkara, and the coins made a bulge in my right pocket (pictured below).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_a2cba433bd4fdc7566ca6b0dc4901a19febf06256b98da4195e9e9a9bd18c2d6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250807080852_a2cba433bd4fdc7566ca6b0dc4901a19febf06256b98da4195e9e9a9bd18c2d6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1013" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> <figcaption>Samyaka Mahādāna in Kathmandu Darbar Square in 1980. Photo: PADMADHAR TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/traders-barter-tradition-for-modernity">Newāḥ traders</a> of Kathmāndu Valley spent some of the riches they earned from the profitable trans-Himalayan trade with Tibet organising these grand Samyaka Mahādāna festivals.&nbsp; In 1882 CE, one such trader who was my ancestor, Gyān Bir Singh Tulādhar of Wonemā, had funded an exclusive Samyaka Mahādanā festival. All Newāḥ Buddhist priests in Nepāla Maṇḍala are invited to receive alms, and at the end it is obligatory for the patron to commission a large idol of Dipañkara, usually of gilded copper, with an abundance of ornaments bedecked with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/written-in-stone-swayambhu-sila-lekh,1596">precious stones</a>. The fire-gilded statue is then consecrated so that it is elevated to the status of deity, worthy of worship. The god is handed down from generation to generation as a living testimony of one’s ancestors having paid for the elaborate Samyaka ceremony. Succeeding generations proudly display the Dipañkara image every year along with other religious and<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=604"> ritualistic artefacts</a>, such as a long, narrow scroll painting (Bilañpau) that depicts life stories of legendary figures. The exhibit is put up for several days during the holy month of Guñla, especially on the full moon and the day after, which this year fall on 9 and 10 August.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_0910828ee66c9d74d1ff1319e417c910c87c9debb8e787a188aad75c30da576c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250807080852_0910828ee66c9d74d1ff1319e417c910c87c9debb8e787a188aad75c30da576c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1511" height="1497" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> <figcaption>The idol of Dipañkara Tathāgata of Kvābahāh being exhibited at the house of the eldest member of the clan upon completion of communal feast which is part of the Itilahnè Samyaka. Photo: BAJRARAJ SHAKYA</figcaption> </figure>  The practice of communal recitation of hymns and prayers in front of the image of Bahi Dyo, known as Tutaḥ Bwonegu, adds tranquillity and humbleness to a festival that otherwise flaunts wealth. Entire neighbourhoods throng to pay homage to the golden Dipañkara Buddha, propped up on a wooden frame, behind latticed wooden windows in a room on the ground floor of a house in the sacred courtyard to which the family belongs.&nbsp; The exhibition is known as Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu (bahi = sacred courtyard; dyo = deity; bwoyegu = to exhibit). The day after the full moon, scores of religious Dhāḥ and Khiñ drum ensembles parade around town, visiting the colourful Bahi Dyo exhibits. Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu essentially is the age-old practice of publicly showcasing the religious, artistic, and economic heritage of Newāḥ Buddhist families of Kathmandu Valley.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_848190d0fcd785e80d8422f444f5dd233b60ddbdf4c91b7b78b01ab9120a8fe8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250807080856_848190d0fcd785e80d8422f444f5dd233b60ddbdf4c91b7b78b01ab9120a8fe8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1501" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  According to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-script-of-the-scriptures">Buddhist scriptures</a>, a Samyaka Sambuddha – an all-knowing supreme being – makes his appearance on earth after the passage of an eon. Twenty-eight such Buddhas have taken birth so far, the latest one being the Śākyamuni Gautama Buddha born in Lumbini in the 6th Century BC.&nbsp; One of the earliest in the series was the Dipañkara Buddha, a great proponent of the merits of giving alms, and the one who forecast the coming of Siddhārtha Gautama, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/telling-the-story-of-buddha-s-lumbini">the historical Buddha</a>. Legend goes that while on his way to receive alms at a magnificent ceremony organised by a affluent king, Dipañkara stopped en route to receive offerings of a handful of grain from an impoverished elderly woman who had made it a habit of keeping aside a portion of her meagre income for giving away. When asked by the puzzled king about the reason for stopping to receive such a scanty handout, Dipañkara gave a lengthy discourse about the virtue of selfless charity and the demerits of giving away riches collected by unscrupulous means. Suitably convinced, the king took up a menial job with a blacksmith, using his earnings to organise another alms giving ceremony at a later time, albeit on a much smaller scale.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_3cadf664097a8594ebb8cdd207f030ac123c1d279ef7d455f12f4549be314d11.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250807080856_3cadf664097a8594ebb8cdd207f030ac123c1d279ef7d455f12f4549be314d11" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  This lore has been venerated to this day by the Newāḥ Buddhist community by virtuously perpetuating the tradition of giving alms on several occasions throughout the sacred month of Guñlā. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Legends-of-pragya-paramita,3281">Guñlā </a>means the month (lā) that you spend in the nearby forest (guñ) engaging in meditation and devotional activities. Also known as Varśāvās, it is the period of the annual retreat of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/monsoon-culture">the monsoon</a> (Varśā = rain in Sanskrit) and coincides with the month of Śrāvan in the solar calendar when followers of Śaivism perform special prayer rituals and weekly fasts in reverence of Lord Śiva. As part of the Guñlā celebrations, during the Pañcadāna festival all Newāḥ Buddhist households in Kāthmāndu offer alms of grain, money, and rice pudding to members of the Śakya and Bajrācārya priest clans, who go from house to house seeking alms as required by religious duty, regardless of their financial status. The Pancadāna festival is held in Pātan on the eighth day of the bright half of Śrāvan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_b669c26806561dd032840fd6aa04ee8096e9d46786efc7ce3d9d9b4e5caa2fd5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250807080856_b669c26806561dd032840fd6aa04ee8096e9d46786efc7ce3d9d9b4e5caa2fd5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_097db9c053352e79919afaf6557bec2067d1497fbeeeb793c1c3f4a3ec2c4ab3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250807080856_097db9c053352e79919afaf6557bec2067d1497fbeeeb793c1c3f4a3ec2c4ab3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  In line with the same philosophy, the monumental two-day alms-giving festival Samyak Mahādāna is held every 12 years in Kāthmāndu, where hundreds of Dipañkara images are paraded through the city thoroughfares and assembled at Bhuikhyaḥ, a large open public space at the base of the sacred hill of Swoyambhu. This important event is now several years behind schedule because of the encroachment of Bhuikhyaḥ, where the alms-giving ceremony takes place. A downsized version of the Samyaka festival takes place in Pātan every five years. Predictably enough, this display of affluence and opulence comes with its share of risks. A large gilded Dipañkara image was found missing from a reputed monastic complex in Pātan several years ago, together with many smaller images and other accessories. Later, most of the stolen items, including the Dipañkar image, surfaced at an auction house in Europe.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_1c40d5fcc3b3735acbb9c9d21bf6c488904a89573d2c578d9c7b3e45d4a35520.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250807080856_1c40d5fcc3b3735acbb9c9d21bf6c488904a89573d2c578d9c7b3e45d4a35520" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  GODS IN SAFEKEEPING Continuous efforts by the local community in Pātan, the Nepal government, and the ‘host’ government helped bring back the image safely to its original place of residence two years after it was stolen. But some of the pieces of the Bahi Dyo set are yet to come home. This case has alerted other Bahi Dyo owners about the very real threat of theft, leading to many of them exhibiting the image privately in their residences only for a day or two. But while this allows for their family members to pay homage to Dipañkara, the public gets no access to them, a practice that is becoming increasingly common. Some families have resorted to entrusting the safekeeping of the deity to one of the government museums in the city for the rest of the year after the exhibition is over.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_fd81e4fb96e06ef8ffe48e0502f6846fb83994b876b781bf035119bd9f32b5ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250807080856_fd81e4fb96e06ef8ffe48e0502f6846fb83994b876b781bf035119bd9f32b5ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1503" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080852_8b464cc3a2746f76dd0ee9a4cef6b5371bc1dfce319a7dd436cdfe0d4e94d9c7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250807080852_8b464cc3a2746f76dd0ee9a4cef6b5371bc1dfce319a7dd436cdfe0d4e94d9c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1066" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  However, some families which held the Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu ceremony privately earlier are now putting together resources and security measures to display their god openly in the courtyard for all to venerate. Conditions governed by changing times have forced Bahi Dyo owners to adopt newer and more pragmatic practices. The Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu festival is the proudest moment of the year for communities — an opportunity to showcase the achievements of their ancestors with full religious endorsement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_095a1b99ac4b37b4b02664ff62ca92890c526bd287255d52ce4b645a42bff4cc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250807080856_095a1b99ac4b37b4b02664ff62ca92890c526bd287255d52ce4b645a42bff4cc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807080856_da11420b61e4ba204b7eafea878cf2ebbbd545f8a265f4d6fb2ecf7c6b197800.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250807080856_da11420b61e4ba204b7eafea878cf2ebbbd545f8a265f4d6fb2ecf7c6b197800" data-rendition-name="original" width="1503" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Alok SIddhi Tuladhar NT"> </figure>  This event is also a reflection of the deep devotion of the people, their uncompromising social values, and extraordinary artistic skills. The razzmatazz of the Bahi Dyo Bwoyegu tradition may seem in sharp contrast with the merits of philanthropy preached by Dipañkara Buddha, but it has survived for centuries. In fact, this glorious intangible heritage is thriving again. &nbsp; Alok Siddhi Tuladhar is a cultural preservation activist and documentary filmmaker.

Kathmandu’s religious opulence

Bottom

Turkish Airlines has added daily flights to Seville, one of Spain’s most prominent tourism hubs. This is the carrier's sixth destination in Spain after Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Malaga, and Bilbao. There are an esstimated 30,000 Nepalis in Spain. &nbsp;Also, Turkish Airlines and Bahrain's flag carrier Gulf Air are partnering to foster mutual growth, through reciprocal loyalty program benefits, shared ground handling services and more. “We believe this agreement will pave the way for long-term collaboration between Türkiye and Bahrain,” said Turkish CEO Bilal Ekşi. “Thanks to this agreement, we will combine our flight networks and increase the number of connections to Bahrain, offering our passengers additional travel destinations,” added Gulf Air Group CEO Jeffrey Goh.

Turkish to Seville

India’s latest revision to its GST took effect on October 6, leading to price reductions for many consumables, garments, and electronics. Nepali consumers will gain from cheaper imports, but domestic industries are concerned that increased imports, especially informal, could harm local production and employment.

Indian goods cheaper

Shangrila Motors has begun delivering the Leapmotor B10 EV, which was showcased at NADA. The model features 180mm ground clearance and a driving range of 600km. It is priced starting at Rs4.99 million.

Leapmotor B10 EV

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

The meeting called by Prime Minister Sushila Karki at Baluwatar on 4 October was supposed to be about completing the interim cabinet with GenZ representatives. But it ended with factions putting up rival demands.
It is ironic that a movement that voted for Karki on Discord is itself marred by discord.
But such jostling was to be expected. This was an amorphous and leaderless group of young Nepalis that was suddenly elevated to fill a national power vacuum, and is now expected to redesign the country from scratch. &nbsp;
At least two camps have emerged within the youth groups. One is led by Sudan Gurung of Hami Nepal with Barsa Raut, Anil Baniya, Purshotam Yadav and Ojaswi Raj Thapa, while the second under Rakshya Bam has Pradeep Gyawali, Aditya Karn, Yujan Rajbhandari and Dheeraj Joshi.
Just like it was at Nepal Army Headquarters on 10 September, there is distrust and dissent within these disparate group. For the sake of stability, and in memory of the 72 who lost their lives last month, Nepalis want these groups to be more united in their stances. &nbsp;
Prime Minister Karki did not attend the Baluwatar meeting last week, wanting the GenZs to first work out their differences. Home Minister Om Prakash Aryal and Finance Minister Rameshore Khanal were present, and entreated the young delegates to cooperate.
Sudan Gurung has demanded the resignation of the Chief Justice and the head of the anti-graft body, the CIAA. However, some even within Gurung’s camp are said to want constitutional provisions to be respected, and do not agree with some of his eight demands.
Rakshya Bam accuses Gurung of trying to do away with the Constitution and issuing arbitrary statements on governance. Her group also issued a statement warning against any attempt to deviate from the values of democratic change.
The conflict between various GenZ groups has exposed the nature and limitations of street revolt, proving that it is always easier to destroy than to rebuild. A revolution can bring rapid and transformative change, but then comes the task of agreeing on new structures and processes — while dealing with the ego and ambition of the protagonists.
TIGHT-ROPE WALK
One year after a similar student-led uprising, Bangladesh is struggling to stabilise the system and preparing for elections while dealing with extremism and geopolitical fallout. Sri Lanka held elections and brought in a new youthful leader, but it has not been smooth sailing.
Prime Minister Karki’s caretaker government is on a tight-rope walk. Moving too fast on arresting the previous prime minister and investigating others for corruption risks igniting renewed street violence, but delaying justice will anger the impatient youth, who want immediate results.&nbsp;
The longer the uncertainty and instability lasts, the more likely it will be for radical forces to take advantage of the fluidity. The communal clashes in Birganj and Janakpur over Dasain, inspired by what is happening across the border, should be a wakeup call. Hate speech and ethnic slurs on social media could be incendiary if left unregulated.
The Prime Minister has said her foremost priority is to ensure free, fair and inclusive elections on 5 March — mindful that various forces are out to sabotage it for their own interests.
Amending the Constitution to meet GenZ demands may have to wait for polls next year, and real change that improves lives, creates jobs and makes the bureaucracy cleaner and more efficient will take longer.
But till then, the interim administration could deliver tangible benefits to people with do-able improvements like speeding up the driving license process, removing middlemen from all levels of the bureaucracy, expeditiously completing highway repairs, controlling food prices.
The youth want immediate course correction, given how the old political parties, politicians and bureaucracy had plundered the state for years. But idealism alone cannot make a state machinery function. Every decision during this sensitive transition must be taken without undermining previous gains.
Factional friction within the GenZ will allow the old leaders in the old parties to regroup and plot revenge. Meanwhile, the three main parties, which fuelled the youth and class rage with their corruption and reckless disregard for the public good for the past three decades, do not seem to have learnt their lessons.&nbsp;
Despite being disgraced, K P Oli of UML, Sher Bahadur Deuba of the Nepali Congress and Pushpa Kamal Dahal of the Maoist Centre, are still not willing to retire. The tragic loss of life and the mayhem that followed does not seem to have opened their eyes to the writing on the wall. They are intent on blaming everyone but themselves.
The Election Commission has already set a deadline for party registration by 16 November. Some in the GenZs want provisions to vote for a directly elected executive head of the country by even changing the Constitution.
There is a lot of confusion about what exactly the mandate of the interim government is, what it can and cannot do. With the dissolution of Parliament, the interim government cannot amend the Constitution, its only mandate is to conduct elections to form a new government that would then work on amendments.&nbsp;
At most, it can pass ordinances but only for the peace and good governance of the country or when there is an immediate need to enact a law.
To make things murkier, Sudan Gurung in a widely-shared interview on Al Jazeera said that he would run for prime minister, and that he would not accept the old parties and their leaders even if they win the elections unless they completely reform their political stance. He is also willing to work with pro-monarchists if they are for the betterment of the country.
Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang has already registered a new party called Shram Sanskriti Party while the likes of Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah, Energy Minister Kulman Ghising and for RSP Sumana Shrestha are expected to follow another corporate backer for a new party.
All parties, including any new ones representing the youth, must learn from the failures of the newer alternatives such as Sajha, Bibeksheel and more recently RSP. Parties go nowhere without a clear ideology, organisation and a vision and pathway post-elections.
The interim government is made of most capable technocrats and a Prime Minister with zero tolerance for incompetence and who says she has no intention of continuing in the position a minute longer than necessary.&nbsp;
We now have to move beyond destruction to rebuilding, and not be distracted by discord.
Sonia Awale

Discordant Democracy

This is the first instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal. Nepal’s Forest Railways As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-border-trains-that-connected-nepal"> India’s railway network </a>expanded in the 1890s and 1900s, the demand for wooden railway sleepers, called ‘ties’ in America, likewise increased. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Rana regime</a> realised that western Nepal’s dense forests, from which sal trees could be extracted and sold, represented a valuable source of revenue. There was a problem of accessing large tracts of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">Tarai forests</a>. However, once Indian railway lines are extended to Nepal’s border in several places, this issue could be resolved by constructing logging railways, also known as ‘tramways’ or ‘light railways’. The Nepal Government awarded a contract to Punjabi timber contractors to supply 15,000 sal sleepers to Chandan Chauki station of India’s Oudh &amp; Rohilkhand State Railway in 1908. The contractors also received a concession to construct a steam tramway to run 48km into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s forests</a> for cutting and transporting trees. The author found no records, however, indicating that such an ambitious tramway was built in 1908. The hewn logs were probably carried into India by bullock carts or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elephants-become-white-elephants">elephants</a>. The earliest known forest railway in Nepal was built in 1914 in the southwestern corner of the present-day Parsa district. A British engineer went to the Indian border town of Bikna Thori to plan a 4-mile portable light railway for the transport of timber from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">the forest of Chitwan </a>to the Thori depot on the Bengal &amp; Northwestern Railway. This short line was laid upon wooden sleepers, and its rails could be taken up and repositioned when logging in one section of the forest was completed. This forest railway was in operation at least through 1917.&nbsp; A few year down the line in 1923, J V Collier of the Indian Forest Service built a narrow-gauge railway in Kailali district also to export of timber to India. This line, the Nepal Government Forest Railway, departed Chandan Chauki in Uttar Pradesh and ran 48km northwest into Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1130" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's little railways"> <figcaption>A Nepal Government Forest train in Kailali District hauling sal sleepers in 1925. Photo: DAVID CHURCHILL </figcaption> </figure>  It was a 2-foot railway supported by 11kg rails. The line was ‘temporary’ in that as sal trees were thinned out in one area, railway tracks were shifted to uncut areas of the forest. The railway crossed seven small <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">rivers</a>, but the bridges were taken down during the summer and monsoon. Trains ran only from November to April. This forest railway purchased four 4-6-0T ‘tank’ engines built in Leeds, England. Each bogie could carry 100 broad-gauge sleepers, and two engines were needed to haul a 21-car train loaded with 2,100 sleepers. This huge commercial forest operation once employed about 14,000 men, most of them Indians. During one season, nearly 800,000 broad and metre-gauge sleepers were exported to India. When India suffered a depression in 1930, large scale operations came to an end. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rust-in-peace?fbclid=IwAR1_eg88TCOS6RGRW1af7WvaWx5mzh_rY8-vT1MnJxSs41QtCpaA988oXk8">Rust in peace</a>, Daniel W Edwards  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Rails extended north from this spot into the virgin sal forests of Bardia in western Nepal 100 years ago.  DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  A third railway was built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-big-bulls-of-bardia">Bardia </a>where some scattered rails and signs of an old roadbed were seen in the 1960s. It ran from Nishangada in India to Khairbhatti in Nepal. From there, stations heading south were Ranipur, Karmak, Taratal and Madhuwan. Collier likely <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-train-project-struggles-to-stay-on-track">built this railway </a>as well in the 1920s. An elderly man in Bardia in 2022, whose father had worked on this forest railway, was interviewed for this account. Kathmandu Valley’s Motor (Trolley) Railway Merchants importing goods from India via the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/business/ropeways-connecting-nepal,1749"> ropeway</a> Chandra Shamsher built in 1927 had to go to the ropeway’s terminus at Matatirtha near Thankot to claim their goods and then haul them 6km to the customs house Bhansar Adda at Teku for clearance and payment of customs duties. The Motor Railway was built to carry goods from the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16839"> ropeway station </a>directly to the customs office, making it cheaper and more convenient for merchants to receive their shipments. In December 1931, Prime Minister Bhim Shamsher issued an order (sanad) putting Lt Gen Singha Shamsher Rana in charge of building this rail line to Teku and on to ‘Nabalak Khana’ in Tripureswar, a distance of 10km. The project was subdivided into four sections or ‘phant’, and for each, budgets and timelines were established. There was bato phant (constructing the roadbed), lik sleeper and jordne phant (laying sleepers and joining the rails), culvert phant (installing culverts) and pul phant (building bridges). Colonel Kishore Narsingh Rana was put in charge of the sleeper and rail section, while Colonel Dilli Jung Thapa, an engineer at Ghar Kaj Adda, also was involved. The Motor Railway was completed by the end of 1933. In the beginning, the railway’s small wagons may have been pulled and pushed by men and bullocks. However, in 1938 a British railway manufacturer sent Nepal a four-wheel, 5½ ton, 2-foot narrow-gauge diesel-powered locomotive with mechanical transmission, hence the name motor railway. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive?fb_comment_id=3554227181262227_4263866616964943">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> Leaving Matatirtha, the trains passed Satungal, Naikap, the Bishnudevi Temple, crossed an iron bridge over Balkhu Khola, then to Ghattepakha, Sunagau, through what is now a section of Kuleshwor (‘Lik Marg’) to the Customs Office at Teku.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Lik Marg in Kuleswor, the former route of the Motor Trolley Railway. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1945, Motor Trolley had four engines, but spare parts was badly needed. The charge for transporting one maund (about 40kg) of cargo from Matatirtha to Teku was 50 paisa. Even though the trains ran slowly and only for a short distance, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fatalism-and-fatalities">accidents were not unknown</a>. A train loaded with rice, salt and cotton derailed on a curve in July 1946, and two railway employees were crushed under the cars and killed, five others were injured. Besides the driver and a brakeman, guards rode the trains to prevent theft of goods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>The author by the remains of the Balkhu Khola bridge built in 1932 with American steel. Photo: JEEVAN NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  By 1953, government budget estimates indicated the Motor Railway would break even with an income of Rs70,000 against Rs71,000 in expenditure. It appears the railway stopped service around 1957 with the opening of the Raj Path and the extension of the ropeway from Matatirtha to Bhansar Adda. Bent steel beams of the bridge across Balkhu Khola and two plaques recovered from the river a few years ago are the only remains of this railway today. Photos of the Motor Trolley Railway in operation are hard to come by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5189" height="1979" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The Kosi Project Railway (KPR) As early as 1941, India and Nepal considered building a dam on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kosi-s-sorrow-and-scope"> the Kosi River</a> to prevent destructive floods caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">monsoon rains</a>. Floods in 1950 inundated 500 villages in Bihar and left 500,000 people homeless. The two governments signed an agreement in 1954 to build a barrage on the Kosi, and King Mahendra and Prime Minister Nehru laid the foundation stone in April 1959. To transport stones from a quarry near Dharan to use in mixing concrete at the construction site, the Indian government, in charge of building the barrage, made plans to build a narrow-gauge railway linking Bihar and its border town of Bhimnagar with Nepal’s settlements at Chakraghatti, Chatra and Ghopa, the outskirts of Dharan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4011" height="2645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The section of the KPR in Nepal totaled 66km — the country’s longest railway to date. The stations south of Chakraghatti were Rajabas, Maduhuwan, Kushaha, Haripur and Bhantabari. The line built, operated and owned by the Indian Government, was opened in 1958 and known locally as Dhunge (stone) Rail. Procuring locomotives, wagons and other materials was a challenge. India’s Railway Board searched the country for old 41 lb rails, and located steam engines, most built around 1910, in poor condition, and stored in ‘retirement’. These decrepit locomotives were later cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining engines running, and six newer locomotives built in Yugoslavia were sent to the KPR in 1960 to prevent the railway from shutting down and halting construction of the barrage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b.bmp" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3171" height="2069" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>KPR locomotives, water tank and staff at Chakraghatti in Nepal. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Used bogie-wagons (gondolas) came from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-nepal-rail-diplomacy">Indian railways</a> that had been converted to metre-gauge, others were manufactured in Muzaffarpur without couplers due to the non-availability of steel. A hundred new wagons arrived from Japan, but only half could be put in service, as couplers from the other 50 were removed and attached to the Muzaffarpur wagons. This smorgasbord of equipment kept shop mechanics and work crews busy, but now-abandoned railways in Nepal always operated under less-than-ideal conditions. Although the purpose of the KPR was to transport gravel, stones and boulders to the site of the barrage, photographs show people riding in loaded wagons. Excluding Dharan, there was no bus service through the wild animal infested jungle between Dharan and Chakraghatti or along the dusty paths linking other small villages on the KPR, so patient locals sat in wagons at Dharan, waiting perhaps for hours for trains to depart.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_24" data-image-id="20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3965" height="2659" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ticketless riders on a train of gravel and stones in the forest between Dharan and Chakragatti in 1966. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Sons of former railway workers in Chakraghatti say that there were no fixed schedules, three or four trains ran both ways daily in the early 1960s. Southbound trains carried gravel, stones and boulders, while northbound trains would carry coal, cement and provisions, including sacks of coins to pay the workers. Trains even ran at night, and the crews worked long hours. Workers received free housing in project-built tenements but had to buy food supplies and items for personal use. The Babu Saheb or the superintendent lived at Chakraghatti, and at one time supervised more than 1,000 employees, nearly all of them from India. The barrage was completed in 1964, but by 1970, the Kosi Project Railway had passed into history. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal.

Nepal’s five little railways

One night last week, Asabir Tamang was awoken from his sleep by the grumble of the nearby Trisuli river. He alerted his family and neighbours in the village of Khalte, and in the dark they scrambled up the slope to safety as the waters rose. It had been pouring all night, and the villagers thought it was a replay of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">the 8 July flash-flood on the Bhote Kosi</a> that killed 12 people, washed away a vital trade bridge connecting Nepal and China as well as a dry port with electric cars, damaged four hydropower plants and an electric substation. The Chinese had warned the authorities in Nepal of another flood, and the Uttargaya Municipality was on high alert. Both floods are believed to have been triggered when <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mapping-kangchenjunga-glacial-flood-risk">supra-glacial lakes</a> in the catchment of the Lengde River in Tibet overflowed due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">global warming</a>. The flood on 28 July was not as destructive as the earlier one, but Tamang’s family climbed to safer ground just in time before the flood swept away his tin-roof hut and those of his neighbours last week.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090848_f573652291798dad5aba2b9db23b82e2bebc30ca21321371735674018554f925.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250807090848_f573652291798dad5aba2b9db23b82e2bebc30ca21321371735674018554f925" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From one disaster to the next NT"> <figcaption>NEITHER HERE NOR THERE: Survivors of the 2015 earthquake in Mailung, Tiru and Gogane, were resettled in Khalte on the low-lying banks of Trisuli, but have suffered two damaging floods in July (left) caused by climate breakdown. All photos: SABINA DEVKOTA</figcaption> </figure>  Fifty-eight year old Tamang, his family and 276 other households relocated themselves to the river-side settlement of Khalte after<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/building-back-not-better-after-2015-kxble6c6"> the 2015 earthquake </a>destroyed their villages Mailung, Tiru and Gogane up in the mountains.&nbsp; According to the locals, they intially took temporary refuge in Satbise along with other displaced families from Haku. They stayed in an open area provided by the municipality chairman for five months. Later, they rented a place in Naubise for 27 thousand per month, only to be evicted by the landowner after seven months. Eventually, they settled on the public land in Khate where they continue to live today. Tamang himself lost nine members of his family in Mailung, including his wife, five grandsons and three granddaughters. Repeated <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/seismological-Centre-2015-earthquake,2230">aftershocks</a> triggered rockfalls, and it was too dangerous to go back to rebuild homes in their ancestral village. But while relocating to a new place that would be safe from a seismic disaster, the inhabitants of Khalte have become victims of recurring climate calamities.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090852_24b0bab16ce2fdd5dc1c64a91d869e16bfec1130d880eb376faf4dffa6ac58ba.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250807090852_24b0bab16ce2fdd5dc1c64a91d869e16bfec1130d880eb376faf4dffa6ac58ba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From one disaster to the next"> <figcaption>(Clockwise) Asabir Tamang, Sukmaya Ghale, Norsing Tamang, and Sanchamaya Ghale</figcaption> </figure>  “We left the place we were born in, and have been living in fear for the past ten years,” Tamang told us, surveying what used to be home for 17 members of his extended family in Khalte. “But it is just as dangerous here.” The 2015 earthquake not only displaced, but also divided families. Sanchamaya Ghale, 40, still lives with her husband in her home village of Tiru which was devastated in 2015, while her children are with relatives in Khalte because their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/patan-school-built-back-better">school was destroyed in the quake</a>. Sarita Tamang, 40, is from Gogane, the other village that was destroyed in the earthquake. She and her husband decided to stay back to tend the family farm, while her five children are in Khalte for studies. Meanwhile, Mingma Tamang took a risk to rebuild his family home in Gogane for Rs1 million. He says, “I spent everything I had earned in Malaysia before the earthquake to rebuild the house.” Tamang lives with the grief of losing his youngest daughter and son who were crushed in their home in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/reviewing-lessons-of-the-2015-nepal-earthquake">2015 disaster</a>. A 2021 research in Gogane and Tiru shows that the earthquake did not just destroy homes, but the traditional community bonds of the Tamang community which provides support in time of need. With families divided and split into groups, that collective spirit of self-help is lacking, and this has also led to socio-psychological distress. Glan Bahadur Tamang, 60, also moved down to Khalte because it is too traumatic to go back to his ancestral village of Gogane. He does hike up occasionally to sow millet and maize, but does not linger there. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-unseen-wounds-of-climate-disasters">The unseen wounds of climate disasters</a>, Anek Rajbhandari Even before last month’s floods destroyed their sheds, the highlanders found Khalte too hot and many who were moved here fell sick to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16988#.XnMUhagzbSF">water-borne diseases </a>and other infections. Today, the villagers only gather in their ancestral homes at funerals of their relatives and friends because their ancestral burial grounds are near the villages that the earthquake forced them to abandon.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025080710080_6805bc25bc91eb7cedbbdc585ae52deec5cf67f41105901627a71794de7dddef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="2025080710080_6805bc25bc91eb7cedbbdc585ae52deec5cf67f41105901627a71794de7dddef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1486" height="1352" loading="lazy" alt="From one disaster to the next"> </figure>  For many villagers like Sukumaya Ghale, 57, the idea of going back up to Tiru, Gogane or Mailung is fraught with fear. But Khalte offers no real safety, either.&nbsp; “The river can take everything at any time,” says Lalmaya Tamang, 29, recalling the fear that gripped the resettled families on 8 and 28 July.&nbsp; There have been efforts to lure the families back to their villages in the mountains from the heat and danger of living in the deep valley of an unpredictable river. In 2020, the Hong Kong-based Kadoorie Foundation, in coordination with the then National Reconstruction Authority built an integrated settlement of 119 houses in Tiru for 152 beneficiaries.&nbsp; However, disputes over fair allocation halted the distribution of new homes. They are all locked and vacant, and some are being used for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/be-kind-to-buffaloes?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR1jWdEuifITwezF3twa8iMAHlbFRifK8hdt70jG44Ty7O8AgAZbfK8mp8I_aem_AaofDjDS71K5FWxwfN9qp9F0GjG6xapjL1QIf_69QspE2lglwHdqvGXHY8PFxdJESkauMyr47dSVBiq6OnonU9k9">livestock</a>. “We could have considered moving, but there are no basic facilities like toilets and water taps,” says Norsing Tamang, 58, pointing at a row of empty houses in Tiru. The Dhading District Level Project Implementation Unit actually bought the land to build the homes for the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/memories-of-the-great-earthquake">survivors of the earthquake</a>, but it was not enough for everyone. Says Bam Bahadur, Tamang former chair of Ward 1 of Uttargaya.&nbsp; “We didn’t know how to decide who gets what,” he says, “there was no option for further land acquisition.” The government did acquire additional land in Pahirebesi in 2021 to resettle 125 survivor families, but that also turned out to be sufficient for only 103, halting distribution once again.&nbsp; Another land plot purchased in Shantibazar in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/kathmandu-s-waste-is-making-nuwakot-sick">Nuwakot</a>, by the then Dhading-DLPIU for 24 displaced people, also became unviable when a 200KV high-tension line from the Upper Trishuli hydropower project was routed through it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250807090852_95c11b2d364f37d3f6be99008a8c7f0d64f51df6eaf796ab1ac8fe56131f770b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250807090852_95c11b2d364f37d3f6be99008a8c7f0d64f51df6eaf796ab1ac8fe56131f770b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2222" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="From one disaster to the next"> <figcaption>The government developed integrated resettlement of 119 houses for the villagers in Tiru, but they lie empty due to a lack of basic facilities.</figcaption> </figure>  The government’s resettlement plans all look good on paper, but here on the ground there are many stories of well-meaning but failed attempts. This year the Ministry of Urban Development has allocated Rs70 million to acquire land for the 86 remaining displaced people in Khalte. But residents are unhappy because there are still not enough housing and the elderly refuse to move into the buildings because they lack basic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/do-not-fail-students-in-wash">water and hygiene facilities</a>.&nbsp; Experts criticise the one-size-fits-all approach of government and charities. “Integrated settlements post-earthquake have become failures,” says Associate Professor of Rural Development Department, Tribhuvan University, Ratnamani Nepal. “Just building a 2-room house is not a shelter. Livelihoods, access to water, education, and roads, all should be part of the plan.” Elsewhere in Barpak and other integrated <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/moving-after-shaking,3792">re-settlement in Sindhupalchok</a> the government has overlooked the community needs, cultural sentiments and social networks in the name of construction of integrated settlement.&nbsp; ‘A settlement is a cultural and social space, without it there is no sense of community,’ explains Nepal. A 2021 research published in ScienceDirect Journal, referring to Khalte, Tiru and Pahirebesi settlements recommends that resettlement and relocation should be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/participating-to-save-kangchenjunga">community-driven </a>reflecting the priorities of affected people.&nbsp; The World Ban’s Safer Homes, Stronger Communities: A Handbook for reconstructing after Natural Disasters notes why relocation after disasters often does not succeed, identifying key problems such as poor site selection, culturally insensitive designs, lack of community input, distance from jobs and network and insufficient funding. According to the Central Level Project Implementation Unit, post-quake 97 integrated resettlements have been completed and 6 are still under construction in Nepal. The need for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-to-build-back-better">proper housing</a> is far greater than relocation. Chegu lama, 40, still lives in Khalte, and dissuades people from moving there. “There are no basic amenities: &nbsp;no road, no hospital and no school. We go back and forth to keep up with culture and survival.” But not everyone agrees. Chiring Tamang, 65 and Yangchen Tamang, 60, make occasional visits from Tiru to Khalte to meet their four sons and daughter-in-laws insist: “They are scared to live here, but at this (old) age we won’t abandon our ancestral home.”

From one disaster to the next

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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

At least 52 people have been killed in Nepal due to landslides and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/more-dark-clouds-over-nepal">floods triggered by heavy rainfall</a> that started late last week along the Chure Hills and Madhes province before it moved to the eastern parts of the country. Kathmandu was spared this time unlike the 28 September 2024 cloudburst that saw over 200 deaths, many of them in the capital city and central Nepal.&nbsp; In recent decades, South Asia has witnessed increasingly frequent episodes of heavy rainfall, leading to recurrent floods in several major Indian cities which have lessons for Nepal too. For example, the Indian city of Chennai experienced major floods in 2005, 2015, and 2023. While every flood is distinct, the impacts have been devastating and appear to be worsening over time. The 2023 floods were the most severe in 47 years. Many times these floods are attributed to climate change, but fundamental questions are often overlooked. To what extent have human errors historically worsened flood impacts? Are we attributing too much to climate change while overlooking development blunders?&nbsp; How effective has the State’s conventional approach been in managing floods and droughts? What corrective measures have been implemented so far? What lessons can be drawn from past extreme events and floods? What strategies are needed to make cities more flood-resilient? How can disasters be transformed into opportunities—for instance, by securing a reliable and abundant urban water supply? As a coastal city, Chennai must also contend with coastal flooding and sea-level rise linked to climate change. The real challenge lies in decoding Chennai’s urban and peri-urban hydrology, understanding its ecosystem in its entirety, and making meaningful, science-based interventions for both flood mitigation and drought management. The key is to design and implement climate-resilient strategies for the city-region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251006131048_9629bc03c2b04a9b14d1c3edc41ce0d620833f0900995516bbf7ff4784db4461.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251006131048_9629bc03c2b04a9b14d1c3edc41ce0d620833f0900995516bbf7ff4784db4461" data-rendition-name="original" width="607" height="239" loading="lazy" alt="Chennai 2023 flood"> <figcaption>A flooded Chennai in 2023.</figcaption> </figure>  TANK WATERSHEDS: UPSTREAM AND DOWNSTREAM Kancheepuram, Chengalpattu, and Tiruvallur districts together once had 1,942 and 1,646 irrigation tanks, some of them very large. These man-made tanks were created by constructing earthen embankments across streams that carried monsoon floods. They were ingeniously designed so that surplus water from an upstream tank would feed into the next one downstream, creating a cascading system of water storage. Today, however, these tanks are neglected—silted up, with broken bunds and damaged control structures. Catchment areas, floodplains, feeder channels, and even the tank water-spread areas have been encroached upon and degraded. The result is a double blow: the tanks now store very little water, while surface runoff is extremely high (over 80%). Together, this has left Chennai highly vulnerable to both floods and water scarcity. To minimise risks, the following steps are critical: - Study urban and peri-urban water dynamics to understand interconnected hydrological conditions. - Map all water bodies (around 4,000) spread across the 5,904 sq km of the proposed city region covering Tiruvallur, Chengalpattu, Kancheepuram, and parts of Ranipet districts. These areas are increasingly urbanised, making protection from encroachment urgent. - Protect catchment areas, inlet and surplus channels, foreshore zones (tank floodplains), and bunds while restoring missing links between tanks. - Restore water bodies to their original capacity—and, where feasible, even double the capacity—so that excess monsoon water can be captured and stored, substantially reducing runoff. - Prepare a comprehensive hydro-elevation (drainage) map covering upstream and downstream watersheds, linking Chennai and the sea. Such a systematic approach can revive the traditional tank system, reduce flood risks, and improve water security for Chennai and its surrounding districts. NATURAL FLOOD CARRIERS Chennai is geographically unique, and this is truly a blessing. The city is traversed by three major rivers—something no other city in India or South Asia can claim. The Kosasthalaiyar runs through North Chennai, the Cooum through Central Chennai, and the Adyar through the South; further south, the Palar carries additional flows. Each of these rivers also feeds numerous tanks before emptying into the Bay of Bengal. Adding to this network, the Buckingham Canal cuts across all four rivers near the coast. Unfortunately, these vital drainage systems are in poor condition due to heavy encroachments, particularly on their floodplains. Sludge and silt deposits have reduced their natural gradient and flow velocity. Though there have been several attempts to restore the rivers and the Buckingham Canal, progress has been limited. What these waterways need is sustained, year-round care and maintenance—not cosmetic “riverfront” or “canalfront” beautification projects. Beyond the major rivers, Chennai also depends on a network of macro and micro drains such as Okkiam Maduvu, Mambalam Canal, Velachery Canal, Kodungaiyur Drain, Otteri Nallah, Virugambakkam/Arumbakkam Canal, Veerangal Odai, Captain Cotton Canal, Villivakkam Canal, and many more. These too require consistent upkeep, alongside the city’s 3,600 km of stormwater drains.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251006131044_22f8154105b0d533cfdff62a4164b9fa2caa4100fc1b6c56dcf6d32d3c031488.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251006131044_22f8154105b0d533cfdff62a4164b9fa2caa4100fc1b6c56dcf6d32d3c031488" data-rendition-name="original" width="897" height="711" loading="lazy" alt="Chennai map NT"> </figure>  REDISCOVERING FLOODS At the same time, we must acknowledge that Chennai’s urban expansion has been among the fastest in the country. Expansion is irreversible, and if left unregulated, it can be disastrous.&nbsp; When the city limits were extended from 174 sq km to 426 sq km, and the Chennai Metropolitan Area (CMA) to 1,189 sq km, little attention was paid to protecting ecological hotspots in the newly added zones. As a result, many lakes and ponds have been lost, while most of the Pallikaranai marshland and coastal wetlands have been encroached upon. The Chennai Metropolitan Development Authority (CMDA) originally planned to expand the CMA from 1,189 to 5,904 sq km—covering the entire districts of Tiruvallur, Chengalpattu, Kancheepuram, and parts of Ranipet under the III Master Plan. But, now the CMA has decided not to expand the area but perhaps intends to go for vertical development with a higher floor space index (FSI).&nbsp; Increasing the FSI and opting to go vertical development will have very serious consequences for stormwater drainage as well as sewage management, mainly because of increasing population density.&nbsp; At the very least, and at least now, the CMDA must identify and notify ecological hotspots, protecting the existing 4,000 lakes, floodplains, forests, major drains, flood buffers, and wetlands is essential. Without this, the city will once again find itself hiding behind climate change as an excuse for accumulated planning and development failures Chennai city, like many other urban regions, can be permanently made less risky from floods while also ensuring round-the-clock water supply even in drought years—if the measures outlined above are implemented with utmost commitment. This is the essence of turning disaster into opportunity.&nbsp; Yet, such possibilities stand in stark contrast to today’s dominant model of global growth, which is not merely extractive but aggressively competitive, accelerating capital concentration and reducing elected governments to mere instruments of corporate power. In its wake, land, water, and air are ravaged, biodiversity is shredded, and human suffering deepens.&nbsp; These models hardly address the well-being of the people and the sustainability of development. As a result, what one encounters is the increasing economic inequality, erosion of natural resources, and increasing ecological imbalances. The catastrophic urban floods we now witness are thus part of this same trajectory, rooted in the mismanagement of key natural resources such as land, water, and ecological hotspots like forests, wetlands and riverbanks. Furthermore, there is an absolute lack of coordination among urban land use planners, real estate developers, municipal authorities, and key water resources departments. These corrective measures are most critical to save the cities from floods. Republished from the <a href="https://soanas.org/rediscovering-floods/" target="_blank">original</a> on the South Asia Nadi Sambad (SOANAS).

Lessons for Nepal from the Chennai floods

The annual United Nations General Assembly is always an occasion for taking stock of the state of the world. But this year, on the 80th anniversary of the UN’s founding, it was also an occasion to take stock of the organisation itself.
By any measure, the UN’s situation is dire. While Russian aggression against Ukraine and mounting tensions between the United States and China cannot be blamed on the UN, they do highlight a fundamental problem. The UN Security Council – where China, Russia, and the US each wield a veto – is locked in a permanent confrontation over one issue or another, blocking the rest of the organisation from moving forward on almost anything.
Consider the situation in the Middle East, where the UN has played a central role in conflict resolution and peacemaking ever since the State of Israel was established (under a UN resolution). Numerous UN peacekeeping operations in the region have helped to alleviate tensions, and massive humanitarian efforts, primarily aimed at Palestinian refugee communities, have saved countless lives. While the UN has not forged a lasting peace, it has certainly helped prevent some wars and shorten others.
In recent years, however, the UN has increasingly been sidelined. The so-called Quartet – the UN, the US, the European Union, and Russia – is now a distant memory, and numerous UN operations have come under direct attack, primarily by Israel. The Israeli government not only questions the humanitarian efforts of UNRWA (the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees) but now also blocks the organisation’s work whenever it can.
Before Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, the UN was essential to keeping the situation in Gaza relatively stable. Though it couldn’t overcome divisions among the Palestinians, especially after Hamas assumed power in Gaza in 2006, it could, and did, help provide the basic means of survival for the enclave’s two million people. But now Israel has questioned or attacked virtually every aspect of the UN’s work on this issue, and it could not have done so without America’s tacit support. US President Donald Trump, in particular, has proved willing to accept virtually everything that Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s extremist government does.
Meanwhile, the UN has struggled to mobilise an effective response in South Sudan, a semi-failed state, and in Sudan, where a devastating civil war is entering its third year. Similarly, from the Katanga secession in 1960-63 to the recent peace operations in northeastern Congo, Central Africa continues to preoccupy UN peacekeepers and mediators.
Around the world, there is no shortage of crises that demand UN engagement – from Gaza and Sudan to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Haiti, Myanmar, and Afghanistan, to name just a few. But with the larger powers fixated on their confrontations with one another, and with the Trump administration withdrawing not only active support but also funding, the outlook for the UN appears grim.
The US provides 25% of UN funding, but it has <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/united-nations-must-adapt-or-die-by-adekeye-adebajo-2025-09" target="_blank">stopped</a> sending its contributions. It also traditionally accounts for an even larger share of voluntary financing for humanitarian operations, but these funds, too, have been cut. Making matters worse, China, the UN’s second-largest contributor, is also behind on its payments.
With its financial situation growing desperate, UN Secretary-General <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/columnist/antonio-guterres" target="_blank">António Guterres</a> warns that staff across the organisation will need to be cut by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/sep/18/united-nations-un-2026-budget-job-losses-us-funding-cuts" target="_blank">one-fifth</a>. Morale is said to be low, as is the prospect of a change for the better. With his recent address to the General Assembly, Trump made clear that he has nothing but contempt for the organisation. The only role he seems able to see for it is to help him get a Nobel Peace Prize. The Trump administration’s forthcoming review of America’s multilateral commitments is almost certain to deliver more bad news.
Does the UN have any future? While the demand for it is as great as ever, its ability to deliver has obviously been diminished. There is no way for it to survive without scaling back its ambitions and abilities; precisely how it goes about this will be a central issue over the next few years.
With Guterres’s tenure ending in 2026, the process of selecting his successor will also have to feature a debate about ensuring the UN’s long-term survival. Moving the headquarters out of the US is a natural step, owing not only to the withdrawal of US funding and the need for cost savings, but also to the US refusal to grant visas to those attending UN gatherings (as it did with the Palestinian leadership this year).
Yes, a UN that is no longer headquartered in New York would be different in many ways. But relocation also may be the only way for it to survive. Dag Hammarskjöld, the UN’s second secretary-general, famously <a href="https://ask.un.org/faq/14623" target="_blank">remarked</a> that the body was not created to deliver Heaven, but rather to spare us from Hell. That task remains as important as ever. But for things to stay the same, everything must change. © Project Syndicate
Carl Bildt is a former prime minister and foreign minister of Sweden.

To survive, the UN must leave the US

Following the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">uprising of 8-9 September</a>, the Nepal Army commenced a series of consultations concerning the transition process, during which the potential reinstatement of the monarchy was reportedly under consideration.&nbsp; However, former King Gyanendra Shah declined to pursue this option without a consensus among the political parties. This information was conveyed by Madhav Kumar Nepal, a former Prime Minister and a notable critic of the monarchy, in a newspaper article. The former king, for his part, delivered his annual Dasain message to the nation on 28 September. He emphasised, among other points, that the younger generation constitutes the foundation of the nation’s future.&nbsp; ‘Only the patriotic spirit, energy, and innovative thinking inherent in them can guide the nation toward strength, prosperity, and self-reliance. Let us reflect upon ourselves in the mirror of our country,’ he said. ‘Our political endeavours have often focused on destruction. Now, our initiatives should aim not at ruin but at improvement.’ Seventeen years <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-ghost-of-monarchy-returns-to-haunt-nepal">after Nepal abolished its monarchy</a> and became a federal secular democratic republic, the monarchy still influences the country’s political scene, mainly because of the persistent weaknesses of democratic institutions. Throughout much of its modern history, Nepal’s political landscape was controlled by the monarchy. During the partyless Panchayat system (1960-1990), the palace was consistently criticised for its authoritarian rule. However, it presented itself as the defender of national unity and sovereignty, especially against Indian influence. The 1990 People’s Movement transitioned Nepal into a constitutional monarchy. However, this period was marred by persistent instability, including the outbreak of a Maoist insurgency in 1996 and a royal palace massacre five years later.&nbsp; By 2005, when <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/tell-me-what-the-common-man-is-thinking">the new king, Gyanendra</a>, assumed full control, detaining politicians and restricting press freedoms, the monarchy’s legitimacy was already under scrutiny. The mass movement of 2006 resulted in the end of royal rule, leading to the official abolition of the 240-year-old Shah dynasty in 2008. Supporters of a republic saw this as the outcome of years of activism. In contrast, royalists viewed it as the sudden dismantling of an institution they believed had united Nepal. The new political framework aimed to promote stability, prosperity, and inclusion. However, Nepal has seen over 14 different governments in 17 years. Divided by factionalism, political parties have often focused on overthrowing rivals instead of effective governance. Widespread corruption persists. Infrastructure projects frequently face delays. Millions of young Nepalis leave the country to find jobs, resulting in the loss of many of the nation’s most talented individuals. The common belief that politicians amass wealth while ordinary citizens struggle has caused deep disillusionment. This serious situation led <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/international-spotlight-on-nepal">Nepal’s Generation Z to protest</a> in the streets. Within this broader context, for many, the monarchy has reemerged as a symbol of stability. To some, the king signifies unity that goes beyond partisan divisions. To others, the last Hindu monarch represents cultural continuity amid secular and federalist upheavals. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-deja-vu-on-black-friday">Royalist demonstrations in Kathmandu</a> have mobilised tens of thousands. However, electoral support remains limited. The leading pro-monarchy party, the Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP), secured merely about 6 percent of the vote in the 2022 elections.&nbsp; Major political parties remain steadfast in their commitment to republicanism, and Nepal’s younger, globally connected population broadly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-new-dawn-for-democracy-in-nepal">identifies with democracy</a>, despite frustrations with its shortcomings. Remembrances of King Gyanendra’s authoritarian rule serve as strong reminders of why the monarchy was abolished. However, this memory is gradually being replaced by more recent events.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251002111020_c018307c7b7dda363d04be3d65f01d132c81c62bae7ed2aa1ea235a12719b251.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251002111020_c018307c7b7dda363d04be3d65f01d132c81c62bae7ed2aa1ea235a12719b251" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="monarchy in Nepal"> <figcaption>Photo: SAROJ BAIZU</figcaption> </figure>  PUBLIC IMPATIENCE Amid dissatisfaction with political parties, a question has emerged about whether the country needs an institution that can enforce discipline. As a result, calls for the reinstatement of the king are not just about Mr Gyanendra Shah, but also reflect a broader desire for government that is stable, accountable, and respectful. The influence of the monarchy extends into regional affairs. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/america-nepal-and-the-royal-coup-qedzifz9">During the Cold War</a>, the palace adeptly balanced relations between India and China, positioning itself as the guardian of Nepal’s sovereignty.&nbsp; It also carefully navigated pressures from the United States and the Soviet Union. Today, as Nepal faces pressures from New Delhi, Beijing and Washington, some royalists perceive the monarchy as a safeguard against external interference. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/editorial/autopsy-of-a-blockade%20,2863">2015 blockade imposed by India</a> impacted Nepal’s economy and led the country to seek closer comprehensive relations with China. As a result, India has adopted a more cautious approach toward Nepal’s republican leadership.&nbsp; China is viewed as supportive of centralised authority, in contrast to Nepal’s democratic institutions. There are perceptions that the United States, previously supportive of the monarchy, may once again consider it a stable partner. Officially, India, China, the broader international community, and major donors continue to support <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-story-so-far">Nepal’s post-2006 political order</a>. At the same time, they observe ongoing discussions among Nepalis about the possibility of a constitutional monarchy within a democratic framework. Following the recent unrest, some Nepalis believe that restoring the monarchy could create uncertainty for India and China, given Nepal’s complex political landscape. Others suggest that worries about perceived Western influence on the interim government through international NGOs might trigger serious soul-searching in New Delhi and Beijing. Despite its limited mandate to hold elections on March 5, 2026, t<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-pm-set-to-expand-her-cabinet">he interim government</a>, led by former Chief Justice <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/madam-prime-minister-of-nepal">Sushila Karki</a>, has an opportunity to start rebuilding public trust. Although the new government continues to enjoy popularity, there is evident public impatience regarding its delays in investigating corruption and misconduct by the previous leadership, as well as the incidents of killings, looting, and arson during the protests.&nbsp; The nation has been further unsettled by whispers of an impending and potentially more significant political upheaval prior to the upcoming elections. Republicans believe that demonstrating the effectiveness of democracy is the best way to mitigate calls for a monarchy. However, if the leadership fails to address key issues such as corruption, unemployment, and institutional strengthening, it could further boost the monarchy’s influence – and potentially lead to its comeback. Sanjay Upadhya is the author oand analyst based in the Unoited States. Originally posted <a href="http://originally%20published%20at%20https//www.linkedin.com/pulse/why-monarchy-still-sways-nepals-republic-sanjay-upadhya-pe4xe" target="_blank">here.</a>

Why the monarchy still sways Nepal’s republic

On the night of 10th August 2025– technically the 11th – I got out of Kathmandu airport and rushed to Thimi, where Prajita Shrestha was performing the Nagacha Pyakhaan. Woven around the story of Hindu mythological characters, Bhasmasur and Mohini, the dance is exclusive to Thimi in Bhaktapur.&nbsp;
Prajita is only the fourth girl to dance as Mohini. In the past, male members of the community played the role. In a move away from the traditional mode where men perform female roles in religious dances, women are now being inducted in some performances.
When Prajita was first asked by the guthi to perform as Mohini, she instantly said yes, before even asking her parents’ permission. “My heart leapt with joy the moment I was asked. I knew I was meant to do this,” she says.&nbsp;
She first performed in August 2022 and was nominated again in August 2025 to perform. Social media reels of her dancing that gained wide popularity seems to have endorsed her as the crowd’s choice, even though she was actually stepping in to fulfill a sudden vacancy due to unforeseen events.
When I arrived in Thimi that night, Prajita had already been on her feet for a long while. Her face lit with mischief, she went from alley to alley, flirting and motioning at Bhasmasur, the antagonist of Nagacha Pyakhaan.
The story has it that the Hindu god Visnu, disguised as the enchantress Mohini, enamours and prompts the demon Bhasmasur to self-destruct. The old dance form, exclusive to Thimi, was revived in 2019 and women dancers were gradually introduced. Some other cities like Bhaktapur and Kirtipur have also introduced women in religious dance and music, recently.
Prajita had seen Nabina Prajapati perform as Mohini ahead of her and says it worked as an inspiration when she was asked. Her parents did not disapprove of her intent because her brother, Kiran had already been performing the Bhaila dance and they were familiar with the processes. The Bhaila, dedicated to Hindu deity Bhairav, was revived about a decade ago, and is performed by young boys in Thimi.
All religious dances in the Kathmandu Valley were traditionally done by men. Prajita is one of the few women who have stepped into unchartered territory. The 24-year-old, a student and communication worker, has also set the stage for more girls to follow in her steps.
“I know they say that Newa women do not have freedom, but we have to understand that not letting women participate in these dances was also a way of protecting them,” she says.&nbsp;
As Prajita and the troupe stepped up on the raised stone platform daboo at Thimi thoroughfares that night, men in the audience cheered: “Wala, wala!” It’s here!
Unfazed, Prajita maintained her smile and her composure, her arms flailing in the night air, her feet tapping the ground. “When one performs as Mohini, the crowd jeers and teases. It might be because in the past men disguised as women to perform and they got teased. So when our grandmothers were saying no to this, they were trying to keep us from that exposure, which they did not think was safe or appropriate.”
Newa traditional dances are said to be exclusive to male dancers for many reasons. The weight of the headgear and masks is maintained as key, the others being the endless hours of practice, night time performances and long hours of fasting, and often drinking of alcohol and even blood in some instances, required as a part of tantrik rituals. And there’s menstruation taboo, and the distance women are kept at from Nasaa dyaa, the deity of charm and grace.
As I followed Prajita around that night, I was already starting to feel the night weighing down on me. But she sprinted from tole to tole, bells jingling, a pair of ankle brace hugging her bare feet, her green skirt flaring as she pirouetted. The red velvet blouse threw a blush to her face and the peacock feather on the crown of her head fluttered as she tilted her head to look into the face of Bhasmasur, the beckoning of desire.
Being in the role of Mohini has changed many things for Prajita, who is also a radio journalist with Radio Kathmandu, 92.1.&nbsp;
“I have newfound confidence to do my work after I participated in the dance. I also do cultural activism, so doing the dance helped me gain a new perspective and also connect with new people,” she says.&nbsp;
While the joy of dancing can be for oneself, Prajita says she also thrives in the adulation she receives from the audience, many of them her relatives and neighbours.
“From the time I took on the role, my father hadn’t been very involved in what I was doing. But the night of the performance, when I saw my father in the crowd, I felt elated,” says says. Like so many little girls who thrive on validation from the elders in the family, Prajita in that moment wanted to make sure she lived up to the new social responsibility she had embraced.&nbsp;
That act of being drawn into the circle because of presence and participation is an important experience. Men in patriarchal societies are already part of that circle, while women are on the margins because of the social status they are expected to maintain.&nbsp;
But breaking the boundary to be included in the circle requires the opening up of that circle up by the male members of the community. Arjun Shrestha, Nirajan Shrestha, Birendra Shrestha, Rabi Shrestha are some of the names Prajita mentions when speaking of her dance gurus. They are men who formerly performed the Nagacha Pyakhaan and are now transferring the legacy.
“In the past, I used to be like an outsider, a spectator to the dances that were performed in Thimi. But after I participated, people in the religious dancing circles knew me and I am allowed to watch practice sessions for other dances, even stay out late with the dancers, mingle with them,” says Prajita. “I feel accepted.”
Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people in Pratibha’s life.

Dance like a deity

Like many, my heart sank as I heard news of protesters being shot in Kathmandu. Just a week prior, I had been there discussing approaches to urban peacebuilding.
The signs of unrest were already visible: police in riot gear, rumours of growing protests, and conversations about corruption and democratic accountability.
Two years earlier, I had heard young people across Nepal raising their voices about unemployment, stale leadership, environmental challenges, LGBT rights, caste discrimination, and more. At that time, it felt hopeful as protest and dialogue are vital signs of democracy. But last month it was clear pressure was building.
What was not clear was just how close frustration and marginalisation were to a violent tipping point. In hindsight, there was space for dialogue and more constructive action on the part of political leaders to address frustration, but that opportunity was missed.
Nepal and Kathmandu now stand at a crossroads. Nearly two decades after the armed conflict, the country has made remarkable gains: a new Constitution, stronger democratic institutions, and more inclusive representation. Few post-war states have built participatory institutions as Nepal has. Yet sustaining democracy is not the same as transitioning to it.
Old challenges such as regional inequality, social marginalisation, economic precarity, and limits on free expression have not vanished. A new generation, especially GenZ, is demanding reforms. They are not rejecting democracy, they are calling for its fulfillment.
The question is not whether Nepal changes, but how and whether reforms can be rooted in sustainable, democratic institutions and more inclusive economic models.
UNDERLYING DRIVERS&nbsp;
Kathmandu will need to play a central role in addressing underlying drivers of conflict while simultaneously navigating the pressures of rapid urbanisation: gentrification, loss of public space, and widening inequality. The ability to foster meaningful participation and greater equity in the city will play a pivotal role in shaping the success of Nepal’s democracy more broadly.
There are numerous examples of cities around the world that have enjoyed successes in dealing with these deep-rooted challenges. Colombia’s <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22472117/" target="_blank">social urbanism</a> in Medellín played a role in dramatically reducing homicide rates and social marginalization.&nbsp;
In Porto Alegre, Brazil’s pioneering <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/259125910_The_Effects_of_Participatory_Budgeting_on_Municipal_Expenditures_and_Infant_Mortality_in_Brazil" target="_blank">participatory budgeting</a> model increased democratic participation, even helping to reduce infant mortality. Each demonstrates how inclusive urban governance can reduce structural violence and strengthen democratic legitimacy.
In Nepal one critical step would be to design an urban peacebuilding plan not as a narrow conflict-resolution tool, but as a framework for participatory democracy from the ground up. Too often, peacebuilding is treated as something for post-war transitions. In fact, it is essential to democratic resilience: building trust, analysing shared problems, and continuing to develop collective vision. And it must come in large part from within.
Nepal has already proven it can do that. Building on existing infrastructure an urban peace plan for Kathmandu could accelerate social repair, develop models of solidarity economics, and strengthen participatory governance. The key for this plan’s success is to create a local, accessible, place-based peace centres which bridges democratic dialogue that young people are leading online into offline settings where citizens of all backgrounds can engage.
There is already a foundation to build on. Each of Kathmandu’s 32 wards has a mediation centre aimed at resolving disputes locally, and <a href="https://www.thewomencell.com/en/notice/oath-taking-mediators" target="_blank">women’s networks</a> have been mobilised to support and strengthen these efforts. Peace centres can be developed to help take on the deeper structural challenges facing Nepal’s youth which the current mediation centres are not equipped to address.
Peace centres could grow to include ward level local peace councils (LPC) that actively foster connections and dialogue across generational, caste, ethnic, gender, and religious lines. Peace councils in this new context could be adapted to build on lessons learned about LPCs during the post war period and to address a new context.
That could include facilitating meaningful conversations about how government resources are utilised through <a href="https://vimeo.com/107121298" target="_blank">participatory budgeting</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHeRD-rr6wk" target="_blank">legislative forum theater</a> and other well established participatory mechanisms that move from consultation to active decision-making.
Importantly, they can also serve as hubs to facilitate experiments with economic self-reliance by providing resources to help facilitate planning and investment in cooperatively owned production, mutual aid, women’s enterprises, youth social enterprises and other systematically organised community-driven development approaches. This will help reduce exclusion that fuels anger.
This plan creates an important “in between space” between party politics and social media driven activism. Democracy does not require everyone to be a politician, but it does require that everyone have meaningful ways to shape public life and spaces conducive to doing so.&nbsp;
This needs to be nurtured and Nepal already has the human capital to support community-led development, dialogue and participatory democracy. Accelerating education rooted in civic responsibility could link schools and communities, preparing a new generation of young people for leadership in democratic dialogue, and community level development planning.
At this crossroads, Kathmandu can become more than Nepal’s political capital. It can model how cities anchor peace, democracy, and justice in everyday life. The future of Nepal’s democracy depends not only on how it responds to moments of protest and uprising, but on how it builds everyday institutions that address the tensions that make political and economic frustration explode.
The key question is whether leaders and citizens alike are prepared to take this next step and have the support to do so; moving from fragile democracy to a resilient, participatory peace.
Arthur Romano, PhD, is a faculty member at George Mason University’s Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter School for Peace and Conflict Resolution, where he directs the Program on Urban Peacebuilding. His research and practice focus on urban peacebuilding, restorative justice and the design of city-wide learning systems for violence prevention.

Urban peacebuilding for democracy

Less than 11 months into his term, Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto faces a stark choice. He can be remembered either as a leader whose presidency was defined by public anger and discontent, or as one who recognised the challenges facing his country and acted in the national interest.
The anti-government protests sweeping Indonesia over the past month are not fleeting outbursts but the culmination of long-suppressed grievances against abuses of power, the erosion of constitutional norms, and the violation of basic human rights.
The protesters are not seeking an apology or even sympathy from the president; they demand the chance to live a decent life in which their dignity and human rights are respected and upheld. That yearning for clean and effective government is now echoed in similar protests in East Timor, Nepal, Philippines and elsewhere.
Prabowo's administration has set its sights on making the country the world's fourth-largest economy by 2045 -- a goal that would require sustained annual growth of 8%. But with 68% of Indonesia's population living below the poverty line for upper-middle-income countries, such ambitions mean little if millions of citizens remain trapped in poverty and hardship.
Indonesians have experienced rapid growth before, most notably during the long dictatorship of Suharto (1967-98), Prabowo's former father-in-law. Given that history, they know that lasting and inclusive development gains depend on political and social reform, not strongman rule.
Blaming previous administrations or consolidating power among key parties -- which may provide short-term stability but weakens democratic resilience -- will not absolve the current government of responsibility for its decisions today. What Indonesia needs are concrete measures to reduce poverty, create employment opportunities, and restore trust in government.
To heal the country's deepening social fractures, policymakers must focus on four urgent priorities. First, they must enforce the separation of powers and eliminate conflicts of interest. Democracy flourishes only when the executive, legislative, and judicial branches operate independently, yet in Indonesia, power remains heavily concentrated. Many political parties operate as family-run enterprises, with leaders holding executive roles or wielding outsize influence across institutions.&nbsp;
This concentration fosters a culture of impunity and erodes public trust.
Clear ethics rules are essential. Public officials -- including the president, cabinet members, and parliamentary leaders -- should not hold party posts, positions in state-owned enterprises (SOEs), and private-sector jobs simultaneously.&nbsp;
Eliminating these overlaps would reduce corruption, ensure that policies serve citizens rather than private or partisan interests, and bolster the credibility of Indonesia's democratic institutions.
Second, fiscal transparency is critical to delivering better-targeted social assistance and accelerating SOE reform. For two decades, Indonesia's tax-to-GDP ratio has stagnated at 10-12%. While the 2026 budget projects revenues totaling 12% of GDP, early 2025 figures are lagging this target – a shortfall worsened by a decline in commodity revenues.
At the same time, budget pressures continue to mount, underscoring the need for fiscal discipline. The government's Free Nutritious Meals programme is a prime example. Though well-intentioned, it is prohibitively expensive, with a budget of 171 trillion rupiahs ($0.3 billion) that is expected to rise three-fold in 2026.&nbsp;
A more effective approach would be to pilot the programme in five underserved regions, at a cost of no more than five trillion rupiahs, while engaging with local communities. The remaining funds could be used to support teachers, health professionals, and waste-management workers, or finance programs that deliver tangible benefits to low- and middle-income households.
Similarly, the new Danantara sovereign-wealth fund, with its 300 trillion rupiah budget, is unnecessary. With public debt at 41% of GDP, new borrowing should be directed towards productive investment rather than bureaucratic expansion.&nbsp;
Reforming existing SOEs would be cheaper, faster, and more effective. While consolidation has reduced the number of SOEs from 118 in 2018 to 64 in 2024, the state still dominates sectors ranging from banking to hospitality, crowding out small enterprises.
Third, civil authority must be strengthened to curb military interference. Military or police intervention in civilian affairs tends to undermine democratic institutions.&nbsp;
In Indonesia, where the military continues to wield significant political influence, preserving clear boundaries is particularly important. That means codified institutional checks, stronger civilian oversight, and strict adherence to human-rights norms. Without these safeguards, Indonesia risks sliding towards the instability seen in Myanmar or in parts of Latin America and Africa.
Lastly, the long-delayed Asset Recovery Bill (RUU Perampasan Aset), which would empower the state to reclaim disproportionate wealth without waiting for a criminal conviction, must be enacted.&nbsp;
Crucially, its aim is not to seize assets arbitrarily but to ensure that stolen public assets are restored to their rightful owners -- the people. First drafted in 2008 and submitted to parliament in 2012, the bill has languished for nearly two decades, enabling corrupt actors to plunder public resources with impunity.
By establishing a civil process for recovering unexplained wealth (in rem asset recovery), the law fulfills Indonesia's obligations under the United Nations Convention Against Corruption and shows that the government stands with citizens in fighting abuses of power. If Prabowo channels this recovered wealth into education, health care, and social programs, he could leave a truly transformative legacy.
Indonesia's leadership can choose to deepen repression, or it can take a different path and strengthen democratic governance. Prabowo's legacy will not be measured by electoral margins but by whether his government respects human rights, improves health care and education, and creates more good jobs.&nbsp;
He can be remembered as the president who presided over Indonesia's largest protests since Suharto, or he can be celebrated as a leader who delivered political, social, and economic justice. The choice is his. © Project Syndicate
Lili Yan Ing, Secretary General of the International Economic Association, is Lead Adviser for the Southeast Asian region at the Economic Research Institute for Asean and East Asia.

Indonesian democracy on the brink

Nepali Times #1280

Kathmandu: A Reader, the latest publication from Martin Chautari, is an anthology of anthropological essays exploring Kathmandu through various lenses across the 21st century. This compilation is edited by Benjamin Linder and attempts to bring modern discourses on Kathmandu and its urbanity together, in a single volume. The book is divided into three sections: the physical form of the city, the imprints it bears from past political upheavals, and the complexity in the lives of its people. The book examines these diverse aspects, leaving readers who have just witnessed the momentous events of September with anxiety, and perhaps a greater understanding of Kathmandu’s context. Urban planning expert Biresh Shah’s discourse on the Valley’s urban sprawl and its landmarks is insightful, but also prophetic when he warns about seismic risk.&nbsp; Jan Brunson’s chapter on female mobility in Kathmandu via scooters is more optimistic, suggesting small-scale, daily-life movements in Kathmandu transform the city for its various demographics — in this case young women.&nbsp; Linder himself contributes with a discourse on the toponymy of Thamel, close-reading Kathmandu’s tourist hub through the usage and understanding of its name over the ages. MYTHBUSTERS The book is a collage of pieces held together by a thread that runs through the chapters of a vibrant, bustling image of the Valley. One common theme is Linder’s attempt to expand on common understandings and urban myths about Kathmandu. Readers who have spent time in the city will relate to the many anecdotes. for example, Niels Gutschow bringing up the lack of open spaces, or Mark Liechty mentioning restaurants in Kathmandu being melting pots of cultures and castes.&nbsp; The essays here further extend these urban legends by giving historical and anthropological contexts. In-migration and the rise in land prices have led to shrinking open spaces, the creation of cosmopolitan food outlets, and even hubs for sex workers. The Bagmati cleanliness campaign extends to a past understanding of the Bagmati Civilisation. Urban myths become puzzles to be solved by connecting the various threads of discussion across the book. The sections in Kathmandu: A Reader are all by experts in their various fields and present a holistic, well-rounded picture. Yet, it is obvious there is still more ground to cover, more themes to explore — perhaps by more Nepali scholars.&nbsp; In his introduction, Linder admits that due to practical reasons, ‘many wonderful works were left on the cutting room floor’. That is a pity. Indeed, there could have been more discourse on the changing ethnic composition of Kathmandu. A close-read into the lives of people termed as ‘outsiders’ but forming a growing slice of the population would be important to also chart future trends. &nbsp; The religious importance of Kathmandu as a unique civilisational alloy forged by melding the Hindu and Buddhist faiths can be explored more too. One can imagine a future edition including an examination of the post-Covid era Kathmandu valley.&nbsp; This need to broaden the ethnographic literature on Kathmandu becomes more apparent because 11 out of the 15 essays here are written by non-Nepali scholars, including the entire section focusing on urban cultural politics. Linder explains in his introduction that this was largely due to the community of academics in Nepali urban studies being fairly small. Kathmandu: A Reader then becomes even more integral as a gateway for new authors looking to work in the space of urban research on the Valley — undergraduates in the humanities for future theses and research ideas.&nbsp; In a time when Kathmandu is littered with new exam coaching centres for medical and engineering students, an anthology like this helps remind young scholars that there is plenty of scope for qualitative research in the social sciences. Sabin Ninglekhu’s discourse on the sukumbasi and aesthetics in Kathmandu are reminders that stories and academic journeys can be inspired from one’s surroundings. Kathmandu: A Reader has a good balance between academic and lighter readings, and is almost encyclopaedic in nature. There is even content about Kathmandu’s gangsters and scooty girls — allowing readers to venture deeper into their milieu.&nbsp; Kshitiz Pratap Shah is a recent graduate in English from Ashoka University.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251002051016_c8ce28ecfd0dde4986023822b3d40360ead97d29b7f186f6494d8da67021c5a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251002051016_c8ce28ecfd0dde4986023822b3d40360ead97d29b7f186f6494d8da67021c5a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmanu a reader"> </figure>

A reader for Kathmandu

The history of slavery is as old as human civilisation. One explanation was that slaves became necessary when there was an abundance of land, but lack of labour. It was profitable for landlords to use forced labour to increase production.&nbsp; In the Subcontinent and Nepal slavery was linked to powerful land-owning classes and their power. People, usually from ‘lower’ castes in pre-modern Nepal did not own property, and paid off debts through inter-generational bonded labour. They were also subjugated to enslavement as a punishment for criminal offences. A new book, Slavery and Unfree Labour in Nepal: Documents from the 18th to Early 20th Century, delves into this dark side of history using documents and manuscripts from pre-modern Nepal. Politics and the hierarchical caste system shaped slavery. Edited by Manik Bajracharya, a researcher at the Heidelberg Academy of Sciences and Humanities, the book cites the example of a bondservant who was recaptured after two years, and his bondage renewed with a fine added to the principal. People of disadvantaged castes were forced to abide by the terms of their landlords. Kamaiya and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/from-slave-to-freedom-fighter">Kamlari</a> were slave women under a bonded labour system prevalent in the western Tarai. Interestingly, if a Kamaiya woman gave birth to a child of her landlord master during the period of her servitude, the offspring would be considered a legitimate child and be eligible to property like any other children. The women would also be freed from slavery. However, the prevailing laws allowed men to have sexual relations with slave women while also allowing their husbands to kill the partner. There were rules designed to exercise control over people of lower castes, defining the social order. The chain of dependency in a household, hierarchy in castes, and gender discrimination were all aggravated by slavery. True, such a patriarchal mindset is still deeply entrenched in India and Nepal, but slavery took this discrimination to an extreme — beyond just exploitation of labour. The book contains several accounts of bondage and slavery including fines and actions following which a person became a slave. The caste system overlaid slavery. Terms like ‘sacred thread wearing caste’, ‘non-enslavable alcohol drinking caste’, ‘enslavable alcohol drinking caste’, ‘water unacceptable but touchable’, ‘untouchable’ are frequently used in the book, indicating the labels and hierarchies at the time. LAW VS PRACTICE Prime Minister Chandra Shumsher Rana passed an edict abolishing slavery in 1924, although formally it was enacted only two years later. He said Hindu tenets condemned slavery, and asked slaveholders to release all slaves. The move was applauded by the international audience and the slaves themselves. But there were rumours that he had married a slave, which motivated his move to abolish the system. Regardless, slavery was done away with in Nepal. A letter written by Chandra Shumsher to Hugh J Wilkinson, the first British envoy to Nepal, asks him to arrange funds for slave emancipation to pay off the slave owners. In subsequent correspondence, the two exchange names of trustees, discuss progress and share receipts on the progress of the slave emancipation fund.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925130952_cecc9a32933ea1f62279cd2b7ea88bca1fd7062e7769ef2afd18ea27aa2f2e66.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250925130952_cecc9a32933ea1f62279cd2b7ea88bca1fd7062e7769ef2afd18ea27aa2f2e66" data-rendition-name="original" width="768" height="432" loading="lazy" alt="slavery in Nepal"> </figure>  But laws take time to change deeply rooted cultural practices, and so it was with slavery. The Kamaiya and Kamlari and other forms of bonded labour continued. The 1990 Constitution prohibited all forms of slavery, but again it continued in different forms. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-slavery-to-salvation">Kamaiya system </a>was abolished in 2000 and Kamalari in 2013. But despite the ban and campaigns like Mukta Kamaiya, it persisted. Even when freed, it was not easy for the formerly enslaved to reintegrate into society. The book is not for the faint-hearted, and there are graphic details of some of the most heinous instances of inhumanity. But this also makes it an important documentation of a long and tumultuous time in Nepal’s history — especially for disenfranchised and excluded communities. &nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250930050924_b30cf2595721bb7db7035c8e42edef1ebaf34f93f773e210f83b04764948740e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250930050924_b30cf2595721bb7db7035c8e42edef1ebaf34f93f773e210f83b04764948740e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Slavery and unfree labour in Nepal book details NT"> </figure>

Slavery and unfree labour

The word for ‘development’ in Nepali is bikas. The world for destruction is binas. &nbsp; The two words not only rhyme, but replacing just one consonant gives it an opposite meaning. It also demonstrates how easily what we think is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/development-destruction-yt3t1yhu">‘Development’ can be destructive</a>.&nbsp; University libraries in Nepal and around the world are stacked with hundreds of books dissecting ‘development’. They can be divided broadly into at least two types: some authors define development as a moral imperative to improve living standards of people in the underserved parts of the world, mostly in the Global South.&nbsp; Others critique development either as being an ‘industry’, or as a continuation of the western colonial project that imposes dependency and corruption, perpetuates the donor-recipient hierarchy, and ends up disempowering intended beneficiaries. Somewhere in between are books by experts who have tried to find a middle path with concepts like ‘sustainable human development’, ‘people’s participation’ or ‘public-private partnership’. But even the staunchest proponents of traditional development models will admit that all is not well, somewhere along the line we lost our way. Peter Sutoris and Uma Pradhan have dared to take the bull by the horns to find a new path to ‘reimagine’ development, and explore new templates to confront a world wracked by interconnected crises of conflict, inequality, environmental decay and climate breakdown. Their book Reimagining Development: Bold Directions Towards a Thriving World lays out a roadmap for countries like Nepal as they try to fix what went wrong. Billions of dollars were poured into Nepal’s ‘development’ over the past seven decades, but the country is littered with the carcasses of failures like the rusted abandoned tractors from the Rapti Valley Development Project 65 years ago. To be sure, there have been catalytic success stories along the way. It is not a coincidence that whatever has worked well in Nepal since 1990 has the word ‘community’ in it — things fall into place when local groups are given ownership to decide what they need, and allowed to decide what they need to do.&nbsp; Some examples in the book include <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s community forestry project</a>, which Sutoris and Pradhan cite as an example of the kind of possibilities needed to reimagine development for a ‘thriving world’. Local communities were handed control to manage their natural resources, revive traditional conservation practices, and assert command over their own destiny. Nepal’s community forestry program together with the Local Self Governance Act that decentralised power to elected local bodies in the 1990s was the best example of how development can be a political act to ensure an equitable future, while conserving nature. Sutoris and Pradhan write: ‘Substantial evidence from Nepal indicates that community forestry enhances forest protection and regeneration … Village Development Committees that had adopted community forestry recorded a 77% increase in forested area, compared to a 13% increase in the villages without community forest.’&nbsp; Peter Sutoris was born in the former Czechoslovakia that saw the 1968 Prague Spring uprising and the Velvet Revolution of 1989. Uma Pradhan is from Nepal, which has witnessed successive People’s Movements in 1980, 1990, 2006 and earlier this month in 2025. &nbsp; ‘It was perhaps because of these experiences of witnessing the remaking of the world in the wake of the end of the Cold War that we come to this book with a strong belief that even the most rigid collective trajectories can and do change,’ the authors write in their introduction. Their book has three parts. The first one dissects the Development Industry and the model of perpetual ‘growth’. (Interestingly, the word ‘growth’ is used in medicine to signify malignancy.) The authors propose re-centering the stories of beneficiaries and their lived experiences which have been pushed to the margins in ‘project’ design of mainstream Development with a capital ‘D’. &nbsp; The book defines development with a lowercase ‘d’ as a more democratic bottom-up approach. Capital ‘D’ Development on the other hand involves ‘developers’ wanting to ‘develop’ societies, replicating the wasteful, unsustainable growth path of the industrialised countries. &nbsp; The book’s second section examines the tension between sweeping international concepts of development, and how it is not quite relevant to the reality of rural areas of countries like Nepal. The prevailing notion that development ‘aid’ flows mostly from cash rich countries to cash poor ones ignores the fact that it mostly takes from the poor in rich countries to give to the rich in poor countries. After all, the Global South also includes the underserved parts of the Global North.&nbsp; RETHINKING PROGRESS The Development Industry does ‘develop’ certain segments of the economy, just not so much the sections it is supposed to uplift. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/usnoaid">cancellation of USAID</a> this year vacated hundreds of rented offices and houses in Kathmandu, consultants and contractors became jobless, and even Nepal’s domestic airlines lost business.&nbsp; The third part of this book imagines what ‘A Thriving World’ can look like if we listened more to indigenous communities and their knowledge of the stewardship of nature, adopted best practices about inclusive and decentralised decision-making, and explores examples of ‘degrowth’ and ‘postgrowth’ to address unsustainable consumerist, extractivist economics, and the climate crisis. Sutoris and Pradhan admit that these concepts are not new. Practitioners have questioned the top-down model for decades, but their book Reimagining Development takes a fresh, non-conventional approach to bridging the best of the ‘old’ development discourse with a ‘new’ imagining that transcends entrenched positions. The authors cite Buddhist mindfulness techniques, the concept of ‘radical humility’ and the idea of deep time to zoom out for a fresh perspective on a novel development paradigm to ‘think about humanity’s position in the world’. ‘Ultimately, this book is likely to disappoint both the proponents and critics of development,’ the authors admit. ‘The proponents might view the arguments we put forward as too esoteric and not attuned to what can realistically be achieved. The critics might be dismayed by our &nbsp;unwillingness to dispose of the concept of development altogether and by our attempts to give credit to the Development establishment where credit is due. Our aim, however, is not to please either camp.’ The authors do not want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. However, the obsolete way of forcing soft states to adopt the path of linear modernisation and infinite growth so they can ‘graduate’ to a higher per capita income bracket must be rethought. Alternative models are available to confront the momentous crises facing people and the planet.&nbsp; Nepal’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-historic-youth-dissensus">GenZ protesters this month rose up</a> against corruption and bad governance. But underlying it was a failure of the development path that the country has chosen, which contributed to wanton destruction of ecosystems, the unequal allocation of &nbsp;benefits, and corruption that ensured both over- and under-development.&nbsp; Nepal’s young idealists may not have been able to articulate it in the language of academic discourse, but on social media platforms they have discussed a post-development era to reexamine and reimagine development, accountability, embedded ethnocentric hegemony, and an in-built structural inequality in the system.&nbsp; These lines from Sutoris and Pradhan’s book could almost be word-for-word from the GenZ manifesto: ‘Development encompasses not only financial prosperity but social justice, environmental sustainability, and the more plural development pathways that respect the world’s diverse cultural, historical, political, and social contexts.’&nbsp; Indeed, instant global connectivity through social media platforms has meant that socio-political movements elsewhere in the world impacted on young Nepalis, just as the events in Nepal this month are now influencing youth globally.&nbsp; These lines from Reimagining Development were written before the September Uprising in Nepal, but were a warning of things to come: ‘The current moment feels different. Perhaps due to the global nature of many of the contemporary movements facilitated by social networks, perhaps due to the movements’ sheer scale, or perhaps as a result of the multitude of challenges faced by the world, the feeling in the air seems to be that accumulated critiques of Development are more pressing than ever. If development is to remain a historical moment, it must reinvent itself and finally listen to the voices from below.’ &nbsp; Kunda Dixit is the author of Dateline Earth: Journalism As If the Planet Mattered, and publisher of Nepali Times.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092704094_b795907f8fa9a5ec67508e683e7a65737c6c237ca5482425bcbe5ee6254bb3f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025092704094_b795907f8fa9a5ec67508e683e7a65737c6c237ca5482425bcbe5ee6254bb3f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Development book details"> </figure>

Deconstructing development in an age of crises

The Freedom Flotilla Coalition (FFC) and Thousand Madleens to Gaza (TMTG) said three boats had been intercepted and boarded by the Israeli military at 04:34 at 220km off Gaza in international waters in the Mediterranean. The unarmed crew aboard the Gaza Sunbirds, Alaa Al-Najajr, Anas Al-Sharif include doctors, journalists, and elected officials. Humanitarian aid worth over $110,000 in medicines, respiratory equipment, and nutritional supplies for Gazans was confiscated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100812104_c4f7a6af89054a5b28fdbe943be00b2e2d1516851c1f49e28a76680597991ed4.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025100812104_c4f7a6af89054a5b28fdbe943be00b2e2d1516851c1f49e28a76680597991ed4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1980" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Israel military stops Gaza flotilla"> </figure>  “Israel has no legal authority to detain international volunteers aboard these ships,” said David Heap, Canadian Boat to Gaza and Freedom Flotilla Coalition Steering Committee. “This seizure blatantly violates international law and defies the ICJ’s binding orders requiring unimpeded humanitarian access to Gaza. Our volunteers are not subject to Israeli jurisdiction and cannot be criminalized for delivering aid or challenging an illegal blockade. Their detention is arbitrary, unlawful, and must end immediately.” This attack follows the seizure and detention of those on board as well as an Israeli drone attack on the Conscience in European waters earlier this year, which left the vessel disabled and burning. On board the Conscience was award-winning Bangladeshi photographer and activist Shahidul Alam, who has been posting on social media during the voyage approaching Gaza. It is estimated that it will take 11 hours before the Conscience arrives at Ashdod in Israel.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100812100_31a5f8af88329911b43e459ae6a22224bb32da8b18101f232c4a84557122471f.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025100812100_31a5f8af88329911b43e459ae6a22224bb32da8b18101f232c4a84557122471f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1108" height="1680" loading="lazy" alt="Israel military stops Gaza flotilla"> </figure>  In a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/shahidul.alam001" target="_blank">video</a> released on Wednesday morning, he said: “If you are seeing this, we have been intercepted at sea, and we have been kidnapped by the occupation forces of Israel, a counry commiting active genocide in Gaza …” Israel has defied the International Court of Justice’s binding orders to allow unimpeded humanitarian access to Gaza, disregarded international law protecting civilian navigation, and dismissed the demands of millions worldwide calling for an end to the illegal siege and genocide, activists say.

Israel military stops Gaza flotilla

Jazz as healing music

7:30pm Tuesday, 9 September.&nbsp; I was driving my daughter back from a relative’s house in Baneswar where she had taken refuge after a curfew was declared the previous day while she was in school. She was riding pillion on the back of my moped. We drove past Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">where 19 people had been killed by police </a>the previous day. We passed Thapathali, where the Kantipur highrise was on fire. The sky had gone dark, and the stinging smoke made it hard to breathe. A gas cylinder exploded, and the crowd dispersed briefly. The blast provided a moment to escape the raging mob. By myself I may not have been so scared, but my daughter’s safety made me more afraid. I had never been this frightened in my journalism career, even while covering the Maoist insurgency 20 years ago. At the Tripureswor intersection there were more angry crowds. The further we got from the epicentre of the GenZ demonstration, the more elderly the protesters looked. Many were muscular gentlemen with tattooed arms. Prime Minister K P Oli had just <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">resigned</a>, but the crowd was still chanting “के पी चोर, देश छोड”. Soon, we were surrounded by an enraged mob. &nbsp;My survival instinct took over, and I started shouting “के पी चोर” and my plucky daughter screamed from behind “देश छोड”. Father and daughter waved at the &nbsp;protesters, and gave them a thumbs up. &nbsp;We finally got home, scared and smelling of burning rubber and smoke.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September"> <figcaption>A building in Baneswar was damaged by protesters. </figcaption> </figure>  ARSON AND LOOTING I was born in the remote mountains of western Nepal in Rukum, the district that was the stronghold of the Maoist guerrillas after they launched an armed struggle in 1996. I moved to Kathmandu for higher studies, and as a student witnessed the popular uprising of 2006 against Gyanendra’s absolute monarchy. I have covered violence and chaos. I have been caught in the crossfire between the rebels and state security. I covered the violent <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-historic-youth-dissensus">street protests</a> of the 2006 People’s Movement that ended the war, the Madhes movement and the Indian blockade of 2015.&nbsp; But never was I more scared than during the 30-minute drive home through the city with my daughter at the back of my moped.&nbsp; Last month’s protests were initially led by youth groups which had loosely banded together as GenZ to protest corruption and impunity. On 8 September, I drove to the Mandala in my trusty moped to cover the rally, some protesters were in school uniform. There was singing and chanting. Just before noon, a slightly older group of protesters peeled off from the sit-in in front of Everest Hotel, broke through the half-hearted police cordon and moved towards the intersection outside Parliament. Most of the original young demonstrators remained at the sit-in, while the grownup protesters who were clearly not a part of the GenZ, started to break the perimeter wall of the Parliament complex. The young protesters looked a bit confused about what to do next as they also neared the Parliament gates. Violence was not a part of their plan, and the infiltration had begun in earnest. A group of organised older rioters broke through the western wall, even as police were concentrated along the main south gate. These agitators seemed focused on a single mission: to burn down the Parliament building, and they went about it purposefully.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>Blood seen in Baneswar.</figcaption> </figure>  Too late, the police used water cannons to disperse those by the south gate. I went closer, my press card dangling from my neck. A tear gas canister whizzed past my head. I was not able to see clearly, and backed away to safety. The police opened fire at point blank range, killing 19 protesters. Hundreds of injured were carried to the nearby Civil Hospital. There are many video clips on social media of task force police kneeling, taking aim with SLR rifles and shooting, they show protesters being hit and falling. The riot police fled, and the Armed Police Force and Nepal Army soldiers came out, but remained close to the trucks that had transported them to the intersection. Seeing that the security forces were not stopping them, the crowd then went on an arson rampage — it became a free-for-all as government buildings were set on fire one after another. Most of the arsonists were not GenZ, they were in the mid-30s, and I heard many shouting slogans for the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/why-the-monarchy-still-sways-nepal-s-republic"> restoration of the monarchy</a>. Others were there simply to vandalise and loot. After having chased the police away from the Parliament building, they posted pictures and videos, having the run of the premises, instigating new arrivals to continue with the arson, and also brandishing looted automatic weapons. A curfew was declared, but this did not stop the rampage throughout that evening and into the night. Unable to return home, I spent the night in a friend’s office, and returned to the Parliament area the next morning. The black asphalt was dyed red with blood. Shoes, slippers and pieces of clothing littered the street. The next day, 9 September the much-feared and expected revenge attacks ignited. There was hope that the Army would be able to protect government buildings and provide public security, but the arson, vandalism and looting went unchecked — even when the seats of government were set on fire. The military did make an appearance, but only after 10pm to enforce the curfew, but by then the mob had already gone home.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>A protester receiving treatment at Civil Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  That was the moment I asked myself: Where have the students gone? Has the GenZ movement been hijacked? I could not see any of the GenZ-ers anywhere on 9 September. It was around midday of 9 September that millennials, including from groups like Hami Nepal came forward to the media, claiming to speak for the GenZ. They claimed to have led the protests. Others claiming to be GenZ said they were for the restoration of the monarchy, but they did not look the age.&nbsp; Mobs were out of control, burning down the prime minister’s office, the Supreme Court, the CIAA and the official and private residences of ministers. Within 27 hours Nepal became a country without a government, and leaders without homes. Important official documents went up in flames with the buildings that housed them. PM Oli resigned, too late to save the day. The Army occupied itself airlifting ministers from their official residences. Former prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his wife foreign minister Arzu Rana Deuba were dragged out, beaten up and their home set on fire. They were rescued and taken to an army base. It became hard to tell over the next few days if the Army was providing them security, or keeping them incommunicado in detention. The Army was negotiating with GenZ as well as pro-monarchists at its headquarters, but moved the talks to President Ram Chandra Paudel’s office on 11 September.&nbsp; Former chief justice Sushila Karki was nominated interim head of government by GenZ delegates voting on Discord, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/march-to-5-march">mandated to hold elections</a> on 5 March.&nbsp; Will that happen? Things are too fluid at the moment. And my mind is still reeling from the fear and panic of that moped ride with my daughter through rampaging mobs. Did all that really happen in front of my eyes, or was it just a nightmare?&nbsp; Bhadra Sharma is a reporter for The New York Times based in Kathmandu.

Reporter's diary of 8-9 September

One is an archipelago, the other is landlocked. But the Philippines and Nepal have a lot in common: both are disaster-prone, their economies dependent on overseas migrant workers, both went though Maoist insurrections that failed to replace a feudal order dominated by political dynasties. And both countries suffer from rampant corruption. Twelve days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-new-normal" target="_blank">deadly protests toppled Nepal’s government</a> tens of thousands of Filipinos, many of them youth, also poured out into the streets demanding transparency and better government. Cars were set on fire, and more than 200 people were arrested, nearly half of them minors. The ‘Trillion Peso March Against Corruption’ was fuelled by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/21/world/asia/manila-philippines-rally-protest.html" target="_blank">anger over embezzlement</a> by politicians and their <a href="https://pcij.org/2025/08/31/5-reveals-from-the-flood-control-data/" target="_blank">crony contractors</a> estimated to top $17 billion in flood control infrastructure that were either never completed, or non-existent.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="2326" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines anti-corruption protests"> </figure>  “We learnt from Nepal and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/30/world/anime-protests-flag-moldova-nepal-indonesia-gaza.html" target="_blank">Indonesia</a> how to deploy social media as a tool to spread information, we are digital natives and well connected within the country and across borders,” said <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/yuri-lemana-68322b183/?originalSubdomain=ph" target="_blank">Yuri Lemana</a> of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FOIYouthPH/" target="_blank">Youth Alliance for Freedom of Information</a>, and a part of the GenZ protests.&nbsp; “The system has failed us, unemployment is on the rise, there are shrinking opportunities for youth, and we face environmental threats. There is a realisation that our future is at stake,” Lemana added. Online groups started highlighting bribery and kickbacks in July after President Ferdinand (Bongbong) Marcos Jr himself brought up corruption in the infrastructure budget in his annual address to the nation, and launched a probe.&nbsp; The protests gained traction after powerful visuals of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/international-spotlight-on-nepal" target="_blank">rallies in Indonesia and Nepal</a> circulated on digital platforms. Filipino journalists also exposed the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f0MFz3vmfE" target="_blank">high-flying lifestyle of contractors</a> involved in siphoning off the infrastructure budget.&nbsp; As in Nepal, the youth protests were joined in by various radical groups. In Manila they reportedly included supporters of ex-president Rodrigo Duterte who is currently on trial at the <a href="https://www.icc-cpi.int/philippines/duterte" target="_blank">International Criminal Court (ICC)</a> in the Hague for extrajudicial killings during his ‘war on drugs’ 2011-2019. Duterte still has a lot of support, especially in the Filipino diaspora, for being tough on crime. Duterte was allied with Marcos in the 2022 elections, and his daughter Sara Duterte is currently vice-president. But the two families had a massive falling out, and the Supreme Court annulled the Lower House’s attempt to impeach the vice-president. This week in Manila, a remarkably well-informed Grab driver replayed TikTok videos of Kathmandu’s burning Parliament building to a passenger from Nepal. After his garment factory was driven out of business by cheap Chinese imports, he started driving a ride-hailing cab and was livid with successive governments not providing opportunities to ordinary people like him. Traffic was gridlocked because of flooded streets, and the driver vented out his anger: “Look at this. The streets are always flooded because of corruption. We should have done here what you did in Nepal.” Even before the protests, Senate President Francis Escudero and House Speaker Martin Romualdez had both resigned over the 'Floodgate Scandal'. Romualdez is Marcos’ cousin and is now said to be in Madrid, where his every movement is being tracked by Filipino diaspora in social media posts. The Independent Commission for Infrastructure has issued subpoenas to probe corruption in flood control projects. As in Nepal and Indonesia, much of the anger was over the offspring of politicians extravagantly flaunting their ill-gotten wealth on Instagram and TikTok. In the Philippines, the outrage is also over political clans passing on electoral seats to offspring. The 21 September protests were centred around Rizal Park and the EDSA Intersection in Manila — both symbolic for previous people’s movements against the Spanish colonialists and the 1986 uprising against the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos (father of the present president). “People here had seen what happened in Nepal, and were asking why we weren’t as angry as people there? Why not show our anger, too?” said one reporter who covered the protests. But, he added: “Let’s not be naive. It may have started with youth anger, but there were also people who were paid to infiltrate and instigate. We were also wary that things should not get out of hand like in Nepal.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1550" height="996" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines youth protests"> <figcaption>An Instagram post of the protests in Manila with a comment relating it to the Nepal unrest two weeks earlier.</figcaption> </figure>  Seventy percent of Filipinos are Millennials and GenZ of voting age, and they were impatient with a rigged electoral system. In a clear parallel to what happened in Kathmandu two weeks earlier, radical groups, political rivals, and the general public furious with the system all joined in the protests. Catholic priests, people from all generations and professions had participated in the EDSA Uprising against Marcos in 1986. This time, it was the youth who took the lead. Joseph Francisco Ortega of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nationalyouthcommission/" target="_blank">Philippine National Youth Commission</a> said he understands the frustration among the youth that fuelled the unrest. The discontent is also because despite there being young legislators, they are either party-affiliated or scions of political dynasties. “If we can convince young politicians to do the right thing, then we have won half the battle,” Ortega said. “If we want to rebuild quickly and for the long term, we have to change the system from within. There is a constructive way to do this, while exercising the right to non-violent protest.” CROSS-POLLINATION The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">violence in Manila streets</a> on 21 September was nowhere near the scale of what happened in Kathmandu on 8-9 September, but both transcended GenZ to be an outlet for pan-generational rage much like 1986 in the Philippines.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71" data-rendition-name="original" width="6566" height="4377" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal GenZ protests"> <figcaption>Angry crowd torched Parliament building among others during the 8-9 September GenZ protests in Nepal. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption> </figure>  “With due respect to the youth, it is not about age but about technology,” explained journalist Malou Mangahas of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/R2KRN/" target="_blank">Right To Know, Right Now Coalition</a> who participated in the 1986 uprising against Marcos. “We were all young and angry once. We are older, but still angry, and demanding good governance, transparency and accountability.” Just like in Nepal, young Filipinos rallying against corruption were also wary of infiltration, and it was clear from the anti-Marcos graffiti who the instigators of violence were. The GenZ were mainly wearing white while the pro-Duterte crowd <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">are seen in videos</a> in black.&nbsp; The minors seem to have just joined in the melee from their street-side settlements. Rights groups have called for their release, accusing police of rough interrogation and ‘red-tagging’ as Communist provocateurs. Much of the transboundary cross-pollination of anti-government protests across Asia last month used gaming characters, memes, and anime personas like the manga cartoon One Piece flag depicting a grinning skull in a straw hat which became an icon of youth protests.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="1208" loading="lazy" alt="One Piece"> <figcaption>The One Piece Flag flying during protests in Manila on 21 September. Photo:  CYBERNETICBOYLOL / WIKIPEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Yuri Lemana adapted a saying of gaming character <a href="https://www.warhammer.com/en-WW/shop/mechanicum-archmagos-prime-2024?srsltid=AfmBOorpYg8Zk5G5WiPUS9SXTampX969gMw79sP7ZzkE1G6H5pICR4PW" target="_blank">Archmagos Cortiko</a> in <a href="https://start-warhammer.com/" target="_blank">Warhammer 40,000</a>: “Prayer has its power, but fury also has its uses. If the government tries to hide things from us, we will find a way. Fury will find a way.” Kunda Dixit is the Publisher of Nepali Times, and was a foreign correspondent based in Manila in the early 1990s.

Nepal GenZs inspired Filipinos

As dusk fell over Kathmandu, the thunderstorm continued unabated. It had been raining continuously for 18 hours, and the forecast said it would keep raining at least till 8am on Sunday. The Bagmati roared through Chobhar Gorge in awesome rapids – the only drainage outlet for the entire Kathmandu Valley. By evening, 120mm of rain had fallen in 18 hours, more than the average for the whole of October.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>  Settlements along the banks of Bagmati and Vishnumati in Kathmandu have been evacuated and affected families will be temporarily sheltered in schools across the capital.&nbsp; Bagmati Province has set up a Unified Command Team for disaster management while the Home Ministry has instructed CDO and security personnel to be on duty 24/7.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="888" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Friday's satellite precipitation forecast for Sunday morning at 0600 showing heavy rainfall along the Chure Hills and Madhes Province south of Kathmandu. </figcaption> </figure>  The torrential rain has obstructed several highways as well as caused infrastructure damage, but no human casualties have been reported so far. Many had feared a repeat of the deadly flashfloods on 28 September 2024 in which 200 people were killed and half of Nepal's hydropower generation capacity siped out. The government has declared 5 and 6 October as a public holiday to prevent people from travelling during the Dasain festival, and to reduce risk. All highways in and out of Kathmandu closed till Monday. Flood-prone river corridor roads in Kathmandu have been closed after 6PM on Saturday. Meanwhile, all domestic flights were suspended from Kathmandu and other airports from 2PM Saturday, and most inbound international flights were diverted from 3PM onwards. Rerouted flights started arriving in kathmandu late Saturday as the core of the storm system moved east.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1363" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>  Madhes, Bagmati and Kosi provinces are the worst hit with Maheshpur in Rautahat district recording 270mm of rain as of 3PM on Saturday. Similarly, Gaur received 243.6mm, Kalaiya in Bara 200.6mm and Birganj 221.4mm. The Department of Meteorology did not blame climate change, but said the unusually heavy precipitation at a time when the monsoon is supposed to have ended was caused by the head-on collision between moisture-laden westerlies with the retreating monsoon.

More dark clouds over Nepal

In early 20th century, Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher Rana wanted to build a railway from the Indian border north towards Kathmandu to reduce the costs of transporting food and other supplies.&nbsp; It would also facilitate travel of thousands of Hindu pilgrims from India, who had to walk up to five days to reach Kathmandu to celebrate Shivaratri and other religious festivals. The plan was to bring a railway up to Dhursing, where a ropeway to Kathmandu had just been constructed. This would avoid the need to carry supplies on the backs of porters from Birganj to Bhimphedi then over Chandragiri Pass to the Valley. However, the costs of building a railway to Dhursing were found excessive because of the steep grades trains would encounter north of Amlekhganj.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_ffac8f6a5b41d2727ae92690ccced8da5d2684cc88d933c75b9c90f555956757.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025100404100_ffac8f6a5b41d2727ae92690ccced8da5d2684cc88d933c75b9c90f555956757" data-rendition-name="original" width="1554" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Mahabir, a unique Garratt locomotive, built in Manchester, England in 1932. Collection: RICHARD PELHAM</figcaption> </figure>  A Calcutta firm Martin &amp; Company surveyed and built the Nepal Government Railway (NGR) in one year at a cost of approximately 1.1 million Indian rupees. The 30 lb narrow-gauge rails, 2’ 6” apart, extended 29 miles from Raxaul, India to Birganj, Parwanipur, Jitpur, Simara and Amlekhganj. Prime Minister Chandra, his wife, other Rana officials, and King Tribhuvan attended the dedication ceremony in Raxaul on 16 February 1927. It was only the second time in history a Nepal king had stepped foot on foreign soil. The NGR began service with two steam locomotives, 4-6-0 tanks (indicating wheel arrangements) built in Leeds, England in 1926. They were given the auspicious names of Pashupati and Guhyeshwari. As traffic increased, the NGR later purchased Goraknath (in 1928), Mahabir, Krishna, Sita-Ram, and lastly Sri Bishnu (in 1949).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_864b56ea45c837a9b4110bccb2df09a0011b2e2ad20202b3f9d9316d2b4fdce5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025100404100_864b56ea45c837a9b4110bccb2df09a0011b2e2ad20202b3f9d9316d2b4fdce5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1523" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorarkhnath on a bridge north of Birganj in 1958. Photo: DEREK CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Railway engines embodied a religious-cultural significance besides their secular importance as mechanisms of transportation. These engines later ran on the Janakpur Railway as well. A British citizen, W S Pedrick was the NGR’s chief officer from 1927 to 1941. Tek Jung Thapa then became NGR general manager until 1959, when Kulbir Singh KC replaced him. Devendra Singh KC took over in 1963. A Bengali, Radha Charan Bhattarchaya, lived in Birganj and worked as an accountant and auditor for the NGR for 25 years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404104_1d7e97674ebac55bf3634ce9e44fc3af617b1bac9cb7fc818278329f44bf7e62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025100404104_1d7e97674ebac55bf3634ce9e44fc3af617b1bac9cb7fc818278329f44bf7e62" data-rendition-name="original" width="1051" height="1297" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Sardar Tek JungThapa, the Nepal Government Railway (NGR) general manager for many years. Photo: ANIL JUNG THAPA</figcaption> </figure>  The opening of the Tribhuvan Rajpath and the advent of air cargo services in the late 1950s took traffic away from the NGR. During 1956-57, the NGR carried 255,000 passengers and 60,000 tons of freight and made an estimated profit of 800,000 Indian rupees. By 1963-64, the railway transported only 66,450 passengers, 30,070 tons of goods and for the first time in its history operated at a loss of 151,000 rupees. Passenger service ended in June 1965, and all freight trains were suspended on 13 April 1968. A sporadic 5km 'freight shuttle service' between Birganj and Raxaul continued until the late 1980s.&nbsp; The NGR played an important role in Nepal’s commercial life. During 1937-38, the top four products imported into Nepal by value were cloth, iron, yarn, and cigarettes. Since Kathmandu was the largest market for imports, many of those and other products were loaded on NGR freight cars at Raxaul and transported to Amlekhganj, then by lorry to Dhursing, finally by ropeway to Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_e3157ef1cd2ce312902d40178aa9d35cab1b9b23dfc0d0f37e77ce59b3df756d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025100404100_e3157ef1cd2ce312902d40178aa9d35cab1b9b23dfc0d0f37e77ce59b3df756d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1619" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Sita-Ram at Amlekhganj in 1958. Photo: DEREK CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Passenger traffic also was impressive. During World War II, the NGR did a booming business transporting Nepal Army troops to India for garrison duty and services abroad. For example, 6,000 soldiers from two Nepali brigades rode the NGR during March 1940. At the end of the war, Maharaja Juddha Shamsher stated that Nepal had sent 148,500 troops to India at British request. Many of those men rode the NGR on their return to Nepal in 1945. A 1936 document in Nepal’s National Archives shows the NGR had nearly 170 employees that year. Annual salaries for those in the General Department ranged from 1,200 Indian rupees (a medical officer) to nine sweepers at 102 rupees. In the Traffic Department, five station managers each received 384 rupees, while four trolley men got 132 rupees. The Engineering Department supervisor’s salary was 1,800 rupees, while eight guards were paid 120 rupees each. Locomotive drivers took home 300 rupees, firemen 204 rupees. The Ranas had outlawed unions, but with regime change in 1951, railway workers went on strike and submitted a list of demands to the government for higher salaries, more sick leave, free housing, and establishment of a provident fund. Nepali Congress Minister Bhadra Kali Mishra met with railway representatives and made promises, but workers were not satisfied and continued their protests throughout the 1950s, actions that Nepal’s Communist Party enthusiastically endorsed. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004031056_ef965e3369c8947dddd53fc69986ceff8ea0ae037474252e4ff3d2623df70fe8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251004031056_ef965e3369c8947dddd53fc69986ceff8ea0ae037474252e4ff3d2623df70fe8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1733" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway"> <figcaption>Mahabir with a freight train leaving Raxaul in 1964. Photo: FRITZ LEHMAN</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;In his book Prachin Sansmaran, Ram Mani Dixit tells how he and a party of Nepali officials and soldiers were entrusted with 1,530 boxes of Indian currency worth nine million rupees to deliver to the Calcutta mint in 1939. A special NGR train left Amlekhganj with the treasure, but being heavily overloaded, the train rapidly gained speed, and Dixit and the party became alarmed and began crying “Narayan, Narayan” in fear. The driver lost control, the train derailed, soldiers were thrown from the wagons, and silver coins were scattered in the jungle. Dixit and his colleagues managed to escape through the coach windows with only bumps and bruises. The NGR repeatedly faced several problems in operating its trains. Its engines could run on wood, but coal was the preferred fuel, and coal supplies from India sometimes were interrupted.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404104_1b5c40eb721f6d1c019764a7208ef93883374261f3823bf82606ca0599a12546.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025100404104_1b5c40eb721f6d1c019764a7208ef93883374261f3823bf82606ca0599a12546" data-rendition-name="original" width="1548" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorarkhnath taking water at Simara. Photo: DEREL CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  By the 1940s, spare parts for its locomotives were hard to obtain from England, and its 30 lb. rails could not support heavier equipment that would allow more efficient and less costly operations. While mechanics with only on-the-job training performed heroically to keep broken-down equipment repaired and in service, regular maintenance was neglected, and the Ranas took no steps to invest the amounts needed to modernise the railway. Nor did matters improve with the advent of democracy in 1951. Nepal’s First Five-Year Plan (1956-1961) for the transportation sector focused its attention and provided funds for building roads and airports. In Nepal’s transportation family, railways were the sano bhai, even the sautini bhai. However, the NGR was not forgotten, and several studies were conducted from 1952 to 1971 to consider what should and could be done with the NGR. A report by Indian railway officials in 1952 described the alternatives: rehabilitate the NGR at minimal cost; rehabilitate it as a permanent measure; convert the line to a metre-gauge railway, extend the existing narrow-gauge line from Amlekhganj to Hetauda after rehabilitating the entire system; or construct a new metre-gauge line to Hetauda.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_16b15ff70330db854836323a6827b53ceec5cbc14691748f7cdf61b9dd767e22.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025100404100_16b15ff70330db854836323a6827b53ceec5cbc14691748f7cdf61b9dd767e22" data-rendition-name="original" width="1525" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorakhnath heading toward Birganj. Children around the world are fascinated by the sight and sound of steam locomotives. Photo: DAVID CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal adopted the last and most expensive alternative, but all that was accomplished was a survey of a new line to Hetauda. There were no efforts to implement the ambitious project or to secure the necessary funding. As the NGR rapidly deteriorated after 1956, newspaper stories and editorials rallied to support the railway and criticised government inaction. A 1959 article claimed that 'ill-feeling and disunity are prevalent among railway employees, and this has resulted in inefficient service causing anxiety and inconveniences for passengers. Local people who know the inside stories of the Railway are afraid to make a journey even up to one station.' In 1964, another paper wrote: 'The Nepal Government Railway is no more than a heap of scrap iron. The number of passengers is negligible. The Government has become completely indifferent towards the condition of the railway.'  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004031056_c27b470a52bf8f66d7d56fef8bcbf1e3d74d997c5fd66d7e9e3085f322e7de92.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251004031056_c27b470a52bf8f66d7d56fef8bcbf1e3d74d997c5fd66d7e9e3085f322e7de92" data-rendition-name="original" width="1519" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Shri Bishnu under repair at Birganj. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Another article charged: 'The NGR has reached a stage of total ruination… Employees never receive their salaries in time… The train starts with ticketless passengers. No government authority ever inspects this wretched transport [system]... It is painful to note that we cannot improve the condition of such a small railway. We appeal to the Government…to improve the condition of this railway.' A 1965 World Bank study of Nepal’s transportation needs provided the coup de grace. It recommended the NGR be abandoned, as the cost of rehabilitation was excessive and did not solve the problem of incompatible track gauges at Raxaul, which necessitated transferring by hand freight from India Railway’s metre-gauge wagons to NGR’s narrow-gauge wagons. Nevertheless, Indian technicians completed surveys and submitted reports to Nepal in 1967 for rehabilitating the NGR, but by then the situation was hopeless: the railway was losing 300,000 rupees a year. Yet a few government officials continued to advocate for broad gauging the then-defunct NGR and extending it to Hetauda.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_9c70a2962fba05a9dbf239efd539adb42663070594bcc014bf84c9f2d1a05329.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025100404100_9c70a2962fba05a9dbf239efd539adb42663070594bcc014bf84c9f2d1a05329" data-rendition-name="original" width="1504" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>The former NGR station at Amlekhganj in 2017. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Again, Indian engineers conducted a survey for such a 52-mile broad-gauge, electric line in 1971 and submitted a reportto the government. They estimated the project would cost at least $200 million plus $60 million more for rolling stock. India’s Railway Ministry promptly concluded it was not a viable project, and the report died in Nepal’s byzantine bureaucracy. It seems some dreams never die, and hope springs eternal. In April 2018, the prime ministers of India and Nepal met in New Delhi and agreed to build an electric rail line from Raxaul to Kathmandu and that India would conduct the studies and pay the full costs of construction. That was seven years ago. No rails have yet been laid. Costs continue to escalate, and no guaranteed funding has been secured. Will we ever see electric broad-gauge trains arriving in Kathmandu? Certainly not in this author’s lifetime, but then he is no longer a young man. &nbsp;&nbsp; Read aoslo: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-s-five-little-railways">Nepal’s five little railways</a>, Dan Edwards Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the second instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

Life and times of Nepal Government Railway

Top news

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>

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