http://theweek.myrepublica.com/news_rss.php MYREPUBLICA RSS en-us Wed, 16 May 2012 21:09:26 NPT Wed, 16 May 2012 21:09:26 NPT http://myrepublica.com INFO@MYREPUBLICA.COM laxmann@gmail.com http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34913 It’s noon. Nischaya Gauli, 16, is lethargic after five classes straight. Weighed down with hunger, he runs to the school cafeteria. At Brihaspati Vidya Sadan School where Gauli studies, a proper meal of rice, lentil and seasonal vegetables is served but Gauli prefers samosa, doughnut and instant noodle over the nutritious diet that the cafeteria offers.[break] Gauli is just one among many youngsters who consume junk food on a daily basis as their lunch. From school cafeterias to eating out in restaurants, children have unregulated access to a wide range of junk foods. The easy availability has children hooked as health risks run deep. Easy accessibility and all-round marketing have tempted the young to opt for junk foods, as one can easily observe. Prerana KC, a student at Galaxy Public School, admits that she loves junk food, and be it at the school cafeteria or while going out, she regularly indulges in such “comfort foods.” At her school cafeteria, items like pizza, doughnut, fried rice and chowmein are on the menu. “Many of my friends are junk food fanatics and they consume it on a regular basis. Such foods aren’t only tasty and alluring but it’s fun sharing with friends and it gives us pleasure, too,” says KC who is aware of new junk food items in the market through advertisements. Working parents too bank on school cafeterias as their only resort. Sunil Krishna Pradhan, a shop owner, used to send homemade lunch for his son. But due to time constraints and limited options, his son Projone Pradhan, a grade seven student at Meridian School in Baluwatar, started to eat foods at the school cafeteria, which offers varieties like momos, chowmein, and sandwiches. Pradhan says that his son is particular when it comes to eating and prefers junk foods like noodles, potato chips and aerated drinks. Though he tries to convince his son to at least refrain from having packaged junk foods, he has no other choice than to bank on the school cafeteria. Sushil Shrestha, office secretary at Adarsha Vidya Mandir (AVM), thinks that parents are not so conscious about what their children eat and due to time constraints are unable to makes efforts to prepare proper lunch for their children. “We encourage students to bring their own lunch since junk food uses a lot of preservatives and chemicals, thereby affecting their health. But due to the demand from the students, we don’t have any alternative,” says Shrestha. For sheer convenience, he adds that parents even give money for lunch to their children, thus encouraging them to consume more junk foods. While it is pragmatic and a hassle-free option for parents to let their children eat at school cafeterias, Shrestha stresses that they should be at least be aware of what their children are eating. It is important to note here that most school cafeterias not only offer packaged junk foods and fried items but they also sell those items at rates exceeding the maximum retail prices. If on one hand, the unregulated sale of these food items is affecting the health of growing children, the unmonitored prices continue to burn the pockets of parents. The cafeteria at AVM offers junk foods like packaged chips, biscuits, fried delicacies like chops, samosas, among others. The scene is similar in other Valley schools like Pathshala Nepal Foundation and Shri Ratna Rajya Higher Secondary School where this scribe visited. Binesh Shrestha, cafeteria supervisor at Little Angels’ School in Hattiban, informs that on average, six cartoons of instant noodles are sold in a day. One cartoon has 30 packets. The school runs three cafeterias which offer a range of options to students – burgers, momos and samosas – and the favorites among students sell as hot cakes. Nani Shova Shakya, Dietician at Tribhuwan University Teaching Hospital, says that she once dealt with a case of an 11-year-old who had diabetes. She says that such cases and children with overweight issues are on the rise and that the empty calories that junk foods provide may also lead to obesity and cardiovascular diseases. “In the capital, many children are becoming overweight due to intake of junk foods. Such foods are harmful for health in the long run, as it not only invites overweight problems but also causes heart diseases and hypertension,” says Shakya. While junk foods are ubiquitous and it is hard to avoid them, there is however a handful of positive instances which, if adapted, can encourage students to lower the intake of such items. Patrick Wilson, Principal at Wilson Academy, asserts that his school provides wholesome cooked diets and refrains from providing junk foods. “The food is quite hygienic as well. We don’t encourage students to opt for junk foods, which is why we don’t allow packaged junk foods in school,” he says. But easier said than done! Amrita Sharma says that the junk food culture has developed so much so that it is difficult for the students to give up easily. Founder director of Bidya Vyayam English High School, she is of the opinion that it is at least better to make the students eat at school cafeteria rather than have them go outside of school and eat and drink. She points out that students are so used to having junk foods that it is almost impossible to monitor and control them from having it. “We had stopped providing instant noodles in our cafeteria. Such foods are unhealthy and may invite illnesses and other health problems. But due to the demand from the children, we started selling it again,” says Sharma. According to Bal Krishna Subedi, spokesperson at the Ministry of Health, so far the Ministry has not formulated any laws on schools to refrain from selling junk foods. “But under the Child Health Division of the Health Ministry, we have nutrition programs where we promote healthy eating among children.” He says that having junk foods is a kind of a behavior among children, and so raising awareness is the key to monitor their habits. He mentions that rather than policies, it is more about practice; and parents should be aware of what their children are eating and the children themselves should be conscious as well. “But we also believe in the process of Behavior Change Communication (BCC) where we try to encourage students and spread the idea of maintaining healthy eating habits to bring positive changes,” says Subedi. An editorial, “More to junk food than meets the eye,” by Sunita Narain published on April 30 in Down To Earth (DTE), a science and environment magazine published in New Delhi, highlights the findings of the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE), a Delhi-based laboratory. “Junk food which is food with empty calories provides fat, sugar and salt, without nutrition. Also labels on packages do not explain just how much of our daily salt, sugar or fat quota junk food is taking up,” the magazine’s issue editorializes, among raising other pertinent points. As per the test results of CSE, which tested all that are readily available in fast food outlets or as branded and packaged items in shops across India, ranging from instant noodles, chips and Indian bhujia to the ubiquitous Colas, chicken fries and burgers, consumers are not told that one packet of chips, devoured easily, supplies half of what we should take daily in terms of fat and salt; one bottle of Cola has twice the daily added sugar allowance of adults and children. The study also found that companies were not just irresponsible through omission but also through deliberate misrepresentation of facts about the quantity of trans fats which gets formed during hydrogenation of oil which is linked to serious health problems. Clinical Dietician Rashmi Shrestha at Kist Medical College informs that trans fat can lead to serious health problems and can invite problems of gastritis and high cholesterol. When the country does not even have any limit on that, we can only imagine the health of those children who are hooked to junk products. Pramod Koirala, spokesperson at the Department of Food Technology and Quality Control, says that any food product with excess fat, sugar and salt comes under the category of junk food. “To check trans fat, we need costly machines for laboratory analysis, and we don’t have such facilities. Once we have the equipments, we’ll make a standard to check it and formulate proper laws on that,” says Koirala. “There are no laws in Nepal that regulate junk foods but we make sure to check the quality of the products. There are separate standard for every junk food item. The main thing that is checked is the quality of the oil used in the product. Also, the salt content of the food product should not exceed 4 percent,” adds Koirala. He informs that there have been cases when certain products have been banned for using poor quality oil repeatedly to produce noodles and chips. According to a recent research done from November to February on ten sample noodles and chips products in the market, two noodle products among those were found to be substandard. In the last fiscal year, 2010/11, alone, Nepal imported 879,221kgs of various noodles worth Rs 60.27 million; 159,292, 892kgs of potato chips, wafers and bakery products worth Rs1.119 billion; and 12,253,513 liters of aerated drinks worth Rs 759.24 million. According to Dietician Shrestha, junk foods have high calories but without minerals and vitamins. In foods like potato chips and instant noodles, ajinomoto (monosodium glutamate) and sodium contents are most likely higher, making the bone weak and not allowing proper growth. She mentions that if children take enough liquid after they consume junk foods, such diets will be less harmful. But if the water intake is less and the salt intake is more, it has adverse effects on their health, further increasing the risks of high blood pressure. “Popular junk foods like momos and pakoras decrease appetite and suppress hunger, and once children start having such foods, they are disinterested to eat other healthy foods,” says Shrestha. In order to maintain healthy diet, she suggests that schools provide junk foods occasionally but the cafeteria menus should include healthy foods like rice, vegetables and salads on regular basis. She also points out that students need a lot of physical activities to burn their calories; otherwise, it can lead to overweight issues as well. “Since schoolchildren are of growing age, they need enough calories and vitamins. So having junk foods occasionally is fine but if taken everyday can put a heavy toll on the health of growing children,” says Shrestha. With no laws to regulate and outdated logistics and infrastructure, the health of Nepali children is at risk as junk foods in school cafeterias and elsewhere are laden with trans fat, salt, sugar and cholesterol double whammy. The 11-year-old’s diabetic case and growing obesity in others are just a start of bad and sad news in the making. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34912 On May 8, Darshan Rauniyar (Democrat) became the first and only candidate in Washington State’s 1st District Congressional race to oppose a proposed coal train and terminal in Bellingham, Washington. “I’m proud to stand with the Washington Environmental Council, Sierra Club Washington, People for Puget Sound, and the Washington conservation voters in the fight to defeat this proposal that would threaten our air quality, marine wildlife, and contaminate soil in communities along the proposed rail line,” he said in the announcement. [break] “This is a defining issue of my campaign for Congress. Republicans in Washington have blocked efforts to reduce our carbon emissions and have waged a dangerous campaign of disinformation about the real threat posed by global warming. In Washington DC, I will take on the big-energy companies and their rightwing allies to create responsible policy that’s based on sound science,” said Rauniyar. It is also a defining moment in his candidacy. By inviting other candidates to join his position, and essentially claiming ownership over the issue, Rauniyar has not only demonstrated political savvies but also how far along he has come as a candidate in the last 10 months. This year, America will elect the critical 435 House of Representative. Darshan Rauniyar, a Nepali immigrant who first arrived in America as a student, went on to establish himself as a successful businessman. In a crowded race with a total of seven candidates – six Democrats and one Republican – the newcomer has proven to be an able contender. Last August, when The Week was the first Nepali publication to profile him, Darshan Rauniyar was just entering the second quarter of his candidacy. Despite being a first-time candidate, he fluently spoke about traditional Democratic and Progressive issues – pro-choice, pro-women’s rights, belief in climate change, and for fairer tax laws favoring a vast majority of Americans. At that time, Rauniyar was traveling across the US to establish his name recognition amongst the Nepali Diaspora. It served him well; the Federal Election Commission records showed that he raised US$110,000 by October 2011. A significant amount of that sum came from the section of Nepali community eligible to make contributions. May 6 in Mt Vernon: Rauniyar (C) participates in a rally of farm workers marching to demand Immigrant Rights and to pass the comprehensive Immigration Reform that allows path to citizenships. Making an impression Darshan Rauniyar’s campaign has gained significant momentum, and name recognition since. Yes, he has knocked at over 1,200 doors in his District. But there are other reasons, too. During a debate sponsored by the Washington State Labor Council in March, all the six Democratic Candidates participated while Republican John Koster did not. It was there, Darshan Rauniyar made an impression. The SeattlePI.com later wrote: “He was often passionate, and had cogent opinions on subjects ranging from healthcare costs to other countries grabbing our technology. One of his statements was, “With your taxpayer dollars, we’re building another country – China.” They concluded: “The most impressive candidates: Laura Ruderman and Darshan Raunier.” Realizing that the candidate’s name was misspelled, a follow-up post noted: “Mr. Rauniyar’s name stands corrected. He needs name recognition as a promising rookie trying to win a place in a strong veteran lineup.” The Daily Herald, also a Seattle paper, said this about Rauniyar: “He is the political newcomer who proved the most passionate throughout the evening. At times it was moving such as when the native of Nepal talked of his living the American Dream and watching it disappear for others. He is a work in progress. He knows what he dislikes about Congress and now needs a clearer message on what he wants to do about it and how his skills as an entrepreneur can help him get it done.” This is by no means an indication that the other candidates are faring poorly, but rather that Rauniyar is already an impressive one and quickly learning on the go. Even prior to the debate, he has already had several other TV appearances in the State. The demography The 1st District’s population is about 700,000 of which 77% are White, 8% Asian, and 8% Hispanic. There are only 200 Nepalis in the District at best, but a fair number of South Asians. Darshan Rauniyar is the only non-White candidate in the race. “One of the challenges I’m having is in reaching out to the South Asian community,” he explained. “Getting them excited and mobilizing them has not been easy.” However, Rauniyar believes that even if he can get support from half of the minority groups, he has a strong chance of being the Democratic candidate. A shot at history Next week, the Darshan Rauniyar for Congress Campaign will open its campaign headquarters in Bothell, Washington. With the election date set in August, candidates only have three months for campaigning. “If I win, I would be the first immigrant elected to Congress, not to mention the first Nepali as well as the first Hindu,” he said. “But there is a lot of campaigning to do before we get there.” While his supporters grow in numbers, and diversity – age as well as ethnicity – his support base in the Nepali Diaspora has also offered support from as far as Florida and New York. The Rauniyar campaign can tap local supporters for both canvassing as well as fundraising, but he will certainly need a renewed fundraising assistance from the Nepali community that has been supportive of him in the past. His campaign’s end-of-March records showed $170,000 being raised during that quarter, with $125,000 cash in hand. The campaign, Rauniyar said, needs to raise $400,000 as soon as possible in order to capitalize on the momentum it currently has. “What I want to make clear is that I am not accepting any money from corporate interests or Political Action Committees,” explained the candidate who became politically pro-active after volunteering for President Obama’s first grassroots-heavy Presidential campaign. “So I cannot emphasize enough how important it is for me to get continued support from my individual supporters right now.” For the next three months, the Nepali immigrant candidate will continue to tell his constituency that he is the only one in the race who is not a career politician. He is confident that his position will appeal to progressives while his life story will relate to moderates. And the campaign has in fact even found contributions from registered Republicans too. Already, his candidacy has surely been a landmark and positive moment for Washington State’s minority communities, particularly South Asians and certainly Nepalis. Come August, voters will decide if Washington State’s 1st District will be represented by a first-time candidate inspired by everything America offered him and his family, and driven by the passion to try and make sure others are offered nothing else and less. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34911 Madhav Bista looks across the sprawling urban jungle of rapidly expanding Kathmandu Valley, lamenting what he remembers when it was all fields. But he is not talking about some bygone bucolic idyll slowly suffocated by concrete over decades; the green and pleasant Kathmandu Valley he recalls was a reality just a few years ago.[break] “Where can you get fertile land such as this now?” the 52-year-old tenant farmer says, pointing at his plot on a rare expanse of lush green land in the shadow of a concrete housing development which encroaches further each year. “We shouldn’t be destroying nature. Do we want to replace beauty with ugly concrete buildings?” asks the farmer sitting in front of his shed in Dhapakhel of Lalitpur District. Bista has leased the farmland for Rs 15,000 a month and by selling its produces –mostly green vegetables –he has been able to eke out a living for his family of five. But his very livelihood is under threat. Known for its deep alluvial soils deposited by a long-vanished lake, the Kathmandu Valley has historically been one of the most productive agricultural regions of South Asia. But Bista is among hundreds of tenant farmers who face being thrown off their land each year as landowners seek to make fast bucks out of the capital’s unprecedented urbanisation. The material costs are rising with unemployment among Nepal’s traditional tillers of the land and food prices are inflated as the fruit and vegetable markets of Kathmandu increasingly source their products from India. But the costs to Kathmandu’s soul may be far greater. “We need homes. But the real estate developers have blindly sold the fertile land to earn commissions out of it,” he said. “They don’t care about the future generation who will be deprived of the greenery.” The population of Kathmandu has surged from 400,000 to two million in a little over 20 years, making it one of the world’s fastest growing cities. Vast new housing developments spring up with alarming regularity on its once-fertile plains, and analysts have warned that the valley will have no arable land left in 25 years. Mass exodus to the capital began in the early 1990s after the restoration of democracy, with people arriving in their hundreds of thousands each year, seeking education for their children, better healthcare and jobs. Almost all stayed on, making homes in dozens of new suburbs which sprang up with little regard for planning and encroached on the farmlands stretching out from the surrounding hills. The urban population was further bolstered by the Maoist insurgency which forced rural families to flee their countryside and seek refuge in the relative safety of the capital. Urban planner Nirjal Dhakal has called for better policing of current laws and a coherent strategy from the government to ensure that new housing takes place on sites in the hills surrounding Kathmandu rather than on the valley’s farmland. “Kathmandu severely lacks the basics for adequate living required of a city. Open spaces and courtyards have been converted into public buildings and private properties,” said Dhakal. “Infrastructure has developed tremendously without taking into consideration the negative impacts of the expansion. Forget farmlands, even the marshes have not been spared, which is against the law,” he said. According to Dhakal, land prices have increased tenfold in the last decade. Today, a patch of land big enough for a four-room house on the outskirts of the capital costs at least three million Rupees. The Valley covers an area of 900 square kilometres but is losing more than eight sq km of farmland a year, Dhakal said, warning that if the trend continues, there will be none left by 2037. More than 50 percent of the Valley has been occupied by concrete buildings, according to Pragun Sundar Sainju, a soil expert at Nepal Agricultural Research Council (NARC). He noted another worrying trend, that of landowners selling to brick factories that is further eroding the quality of whatever soil that remains. “There is huge demand for housing plots, and farmers have been lured into selling their land at astronomical prices,” he said. “Back in the 1980s, the Valley’s farmers produced enough vegetable and rice for its people. But now, on the one hand the population has grown and as a result the land has shrunk significantly. “I come from a farming family and it’s disheartening to see this. But we’re unable to do anything,” he said. Adhikari is a journalist with Agence France-Presse (AFP). You can follow him on Twitter @deepakadk http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34908 The Week’s Cilla Khatry had an exclusive view of the 4th episode of Nepali: A TV Blog, a television series about the broader scopes of Nepali identity, and how our diverse identities connect us as Nepalis. A preview: A municipality in Kailali district of Western Nepal, Tikapur is the most planned city in the nation. Located 595 kms away from the capital, the city was named Tikapur as it is sort of shaped like a tika, the Hindu mark on the forehead. [break] There are 3,804 households in the municipality with around 25,639 residents. Every ward in this municipality is connected by roads with links to the main city. “The city is still not completely developed. But in the next 10 years, I’m sure it’ll see drastic changes,” says Padam Bahadur Rawal, ex-mayor of the town, adding that the town is a land of possibilities because there is still so much scope for development. Initially, a lot of families of freed Kamaiyas used to live at the airport premises after the airport shut down. After eight years of living there, they have recently been relocated to another area. Mangal Chaudhary, secretary of Shanti Nagar Basti (settlement) where the Kamaiyas now live, says that they are happy to have a permanent place to stay but other basic needs like electricity, health, education are yet to be met. “There are around 398 houses in this settlement and we are even working towards building a school. We had registered it when we were living at the airport premises but it has yet to materialize here,” says Chaudhary. Health problems like stomachache and diarrhea are quite common in Shanti Nagar Basti but since the nearest health post is some three kilometers away, timely and proper medical treatment is quite difficult to have. Besides being the most planned city and an area of mostly Kamaiyas, Tikapur is famous for its banana plantation and the district of Kailali is the top banana producer in Nepal. Kalu Hamal, a businessman who runs Banana’s Resort in Tikapur, says that it took him 16 years to implement his idea of banana plantation. Now running a successful business, Hamal feels his resort is a good tourist attraction as well. Binod Kumar Shah used to be a teacher in Saptari but is now working with the plantation in Tikapur. Shah feels that more people need to get involved in the agriculture sector because that’s one of the things our country is known for. “Nepal is an agricultural country. So the government needs to support ventures like this,” says Shah, saying he would like to lease more land in the future and give employment to around 1,000 locals. The residents of this planned city who have moved here from Doti, Surkhet, Dhangadi, Achham, among other places, are living in complete harmony in their own little world and making the most of it. Also known as “Kanchho (junior) Achham” due to the fact that most people here have come from Achham, Tikapur is a city thriving on its own while enjoying its diversity. Nepali – A TV Blog airs on Avenues TV every Saturday at 8:30 am and on Sundays at 9:30 pm. The series hosted by Yubakar and directed by Tsering Choden will also be available on YouTube <youtube.com/user/nepalitvblog> http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34907 On Wednesday, as a thunderstorm brewed in the sky above, laborers quietly continued working on various construction projects going on in the expansive Nepal Agriculture Research Council (NARC) campus. At the main gate, the rusting white signboard that said Nepal Agriculture Research Council (NARC) in bold red type was gone, and a concrete structure built in its place. But for now, it is just a cement structure with no paint or signage.[break] This week, Nepal marked a milestone for what should be one of the country’s most critical institutions: NARC celebrated its 21st anniversary. If you walk into the lobby of any of NARC’s buildings, you can tell it really has been 21 years. To see evidence of 2012, however, one can walk past the Potato Research building and find the Seed Science and Technology Division’s building. Researchers record germination of Soyabean seeds at NARC´s Seed Science and Technology Division. There, in the tiny space shared for research and offices, the future of Nepal’s agriculture germinates. Jwala Bajracharya, who earned her Masters in Seed Technology from the University of Edinburgh before earning a PhD from Bangor University in Wales, heads the Division. After spending 20 years working in this field for the Nepali Government, she is, by virtue of her position, academic background and professional experience, one of the country’s most important seed scientists. “I’m quite glad that in the last two to three years, our department has really seen a renewed sense of interest with more resources being committed to us,” she said smiling. But what of the other years? NARC was established in Nepal with the help of USAID in the late 1980s. It was a logical follow-up to their assistance in helping establish Nepal’s first Agriculture college, Rampur, in the mid-1980s. Earlier in the week, officials from USAID gathered in the office of David Atteberry, the Mission Director, to discuss their Agriculture programs in Nepal. A highlight: Continued emphasis on Institution Building to make developing agriculture in Nepal sustainable. “When we think about sustainability as a mission, we are thinking in terms of institutional sustainability. So what’s better? USAID making a decision about what fertilizer to use, or to have Nepalis trained in a Nepali institution to figure out what works best within the country’s Agriculture context?” explained Luis E. Guzman, Feed The Future Team Leader for USAID. It’s something that the agency has clearly emphasized on through the years. But for a long time, the NARC campus housed buildings of an institution rather than shine as an example of Institution Building. Marginalized and politicized, the research institute seemed to be just surviving. Even a few good projects they managed to develop somehow failed to move into the large-scale use for which they were developed. Fortunately, for NARC, the political and business interests in agriculture today, though, are perhaps unmatched in recent memory. In the first two months of 2012, the Government of Nepal has agreed to scale up its agriculture budget by significant amounts, and the World Bank helped FNCCI host a 3-day seminar on commercializing Nepal’s agro sector. Add to all of this the looming end of Nepal’s Agriculture Perspective Plan (APP) in 2015, and the drafting of the new Agriculture Development Strategy (APS) that began last year. In speaking with USAID, the World Bank, the Asian Development Bank, and NARC, one can get a glimpse of the direction in which Nepal’s agriculture sector might be headed. Extension Services A major failure in developing Nepal’s agriculture sector has been the weak extension services that farmers have had to deal with. “In my opinion, the APP could have looked a little bit more on infrastructure to deliver services to farmers,” Kenichi Yokoyama, the Nepal Country Director of the Asian Development Bank, said. “They totally relied on the government systems and in the meantime the system moved to a highly decentralized model. The connection between the center and the farmers were not necessarily working.” Back at USAID, its Mission Director said, “In the earlier days in agriculture, we spent a lot more time in long term institution building. Today there is a much more of a reliance and focus for the private sector to do a lot of the service delivery, to be a much more engaged partner.” Over at the World Bank, the broken Extension Services is seen as a problem that directly affects NARC. “What we did was provide technical assistance with NARC’s vision paper in order to think about how they make best use of their facilities and how do they get from Research to Extension,” Gayatri Acharya, Senior Economist at the Bank’s Office on Agriculture, explained. “Not to do extension work, which is the Department of Agriculture’s domain. But how do you actually bridge that gap?” While the conversation at USAID revolved around the successful “Value Chain” created by their programs, from Farmers to Markets to Farmers, the conversation at the WB evolved into one of the Supply Chain that involves inputs of agriculture. “That chain has to be very well developed and for that you need very strong extension services,” Purna Chettri, a Specialist in the Agriculture Office at the Bank, added. “If there is money, the private sector will come.” The ADB had a few additional thoughts: “In principle we all agree that Extension Service providers need to be accountable to farmers. Then the question is how. Of course engaging the private sector may be an easy solution. But there is a need for sufficient regulation of that private sector to ensure they don’t impose monopoly,” Country Director Yokoyama said. “At the same time we need to look at the option of how the public sector can be improved to be more accountable and responsive to the farmers’ needs. We need to look at various models and see what is the best way to go.” To this, ADB’s Director of Environment, Natural Resources & Agriculture Division, Takashi Matsuo added: “The private sector may not be interested in remote areas, so the public sector may need to continue to provide the services.” This farmer couple in Western Nepal explained that a part of their farm is already dying due to use of chemical fertilizer. They continue to use the product anyway because it produces immediate higher yields and higher income for the moment, which they said they need. Seeds and Fertilizers A recurring theme is also the dominant role of hybrid seeds in Nepal and its inherent need of chemical fertilizers. And one can’t talk about Extension Services without touching on those two key elements. The problem isn’t just that chemical fertilizers are known to be bad for the environment over all, and reduce soil fertility over time. In Nepal, there is a perpetual shortage of the product, with a history of untimely delivery. To meet these challenges there has been some recent murmurs of building a fertilizer factory in the country. “If you build a factory here, you will have to bring in all the raw materials. There is a cost associated with that, and Nepal has to know what the impact will be on its budget. Is it going to be private, or public? How will it be financed, how will it be sustainable?” Acharya pointed out. “It’s just a fact that Nepal doesn’t have petroleum or the other necessities that go into fertilizer production. If the costs of those inputs grow globally, the cost of production in Nepal will increase too.” To help figure all this out, the World Bank has financed a study on fertilizer policies for Nepal, and work on it is expected to start soon. “What we’re asking them to do is look at all their policies and options and figure out what makes sense.” Acharya said of the upcoming report’s scope. Seed the Future Over all, Development partners spoken to for this report express that there is a renewed sense of synergizing their independent programs, and a decided move to integrate Nutrition and Food Security. In fact, about two months ago USAID took the initiative to host a discussion where donor groups working on Nutrition and those working on Food Security were brought together at the table along with relevant representatives of the Government of Nepal. The World Bank too expressed that as far as coordinated efforts go, things seem to be moving in the right trajectory. The ABD-assisted Agriculture Development Plan for Nepal being worked on right now is itself a coordinated effort with over 12 donor agencies, not counting the numerous local stakeholders consulted in the process. Well and good. Everyone is also eager to express that all decisions in the end have to be made by the Government of Nepal itself. “There are diverse views and advice coming from various partners, but the driving seat should be occupied by the Ministry of Agriculture and the Government of Nepal,” ADB’s Yokoyama insisted, echoing positions expressed by both the USAID and WB in interviews with them. So, then, where is Nepal on seeds? And what should drive Nepal’s decision on its choice for seeds and other inputs? Are immediate Food Security and Commercialization needs to shape a long-term national policy? As lightening stuck in the skies and rain poured down, Jwala Bajracharya patiently articulated a few fundamentals in her office at NARC. She agrees that there is no doubt hybrids need “heavy and well managed” inputs, and that farmers are right to point out these inputs will cause their soil to lose fertility over time. She makes it clear that unless Nepali policymakers put in place strict mechanisms that designate zones where hybrids can be used and cannot, there is a risk that the country may lose their diverse indigenous varieties. “These varieties are the main resource for breeding new varieties for us,” she explained. The Seed Technologist and Molecular Biologist also admits OPV seeds are more sustainable than Hybrids, and that using the latter requires farmers to buy a new set of seeds each season. Yet, the national policy is geared towards “improved seeds” and farms across the country are dependent on Hybrids. Still, many will argue that Nepal needs not just Hybrid seeds, but a hybrid model of agriculture itself. “There is a rise in demand of both food and feed,” Bajracharya concedes, adding that the sustainable options wouldn’t meet the country’s immediate food security needs. “So we are at a position where we need to use all available technologies for our benefit. But to what degree and scale is something we need to give a lot of consideration.” What the prescription for present production needs means for the future of sustainable soil management in Nepal remains questionable. But it is unrealistic to try to perpetually scale up production to meet continuous population and consumption growth, which is to say the issue of food security cannot be addresses with greater production alone. “ADB is fully supportive of the need for more free consultations and development of a consensus, as well as the need to incorporate indigenous knowledge and environment sustainability,” its Nepal country director said about the Agriculture Development Strategy at the end of our interview. As Nepal drafts a new national agriculture strategy, it presents an opportunity to make an unprecedented commitment to both the known and emerging sustainable agriculture methods in and outside of Nepal. There can’t possibly a reason not to, especially if it truly wants to feed the future. Shrestha is a writer, photographer and a Policy Fellow at the Niti Foundation. You can follow him on Twitter @kashishds or email him at kashish@350nepal.org. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34904 It is almost one year to the day that I reviewed Broadlink vs. World Link vs. NTC Internet services (as all three were installed in my small home office) – and if you recall – Broadlink smacked down the competition with its faster speeds, cheaper rates, and a unique roaming service. But that was a year ago, and in Internet time, that was almost an eon ago.[break] Nowadays, from my small off-ramp on the Internet highway – Dhobighat – I can get cable Internet service from my cable TV provider: Subisu. I’ve been using their Digital TV line to get clear reception on my new LED TV set – works great, although it’s not a truly digital service without an “HDMI out” from the digital box. I would not have thought of calling them to add Internet service to my home network if my Broadlink service had not slowly slowed down over the course of the past year. But that’s what happens when an ISP gets wildly popular and the company is not equipped to keep up with demand. So I sent Subisu an email (don’t even try to call) and within a few days there were two technicians out to the house to do the installation. The first thing they did was to test the existing cable line to see if it could handle the Internet right along with the TV signal. It could not. By the way, my existing cable was strung through a window, as apparently the company does not own a drilling machine, or does not trust the techs to bring one out during cable installations. After all, who knows what they might drill through... But these techs really knew their stuff, and after measuring the signal strength, they determined I needed another line into the home – this time under the door! Once the cable was laid in, the cable modem was easily connected to my wireless router, and within a few minutes, I had a Subisu home network up and running at 512 kbps speed. So how does the Subisu Internet cable service compare to a Broadlink Wireless service? Well, here ya go: Smack! On installation, Broadlink and Subisu both lose Even though Broadlink is a wireless provider, I still have a cable coming through a window – with one end attached to a wireless receiver mounted on my water tank, and the other end to a router in my home office. Over the course of this past year, I have had the receiver (called a C1 Device) pointed at various Broadlink towers – hoping to get a consistently reliable signal. Well, we are still searching for that mythical tower of 24-hour non-stop service... In the case of Subisu, since the signal strength of the existing cable was not strong enough (that being split and inserted into various home orifices), I now have TWO lines whereas hypothetically there should be one. And I can’t close my balcony door. So, as far as the physical installation goes, both companies lose. As for installation pricing, both are comparable: on one hand you pay for cable and a modem, on the other, cable and a C1 device. SMACK SMACK! Subisu wins on delivery The 512kbps Subisu service (Rs. 5,000 per month, unlimited + TV) is currently outperforming the Broadlink 960kbps delivery (Rs 6,000 per month, unlimited) by at least 30%. For example, when tested against servers in America, Subisu comes in at almost 1,000kbps (1Mb) while Broadlink at only 700kbps on average. A quick call to Broadlink confirms that their systems have been taxed lately by demand and new equipment must be installed. But to be fair, Broadlink was providing the rated speed of 960kbps for most of the past year. Triple SMACK! Subisu and Broadlink DRAW on service and support The techs from both companies are top notch, and I was surprised that the teams sent out from both orgs came knowledgeable of both Macs and PCs, and how to connect them to the Internet without a fuss. The online user “dashboards” that control your account are nearly identical – and easy to figure out, although it looks like Subisu copied Broadlink’s dashboard so closely they forget to take out their competitor’s banner ad. Just log into your Subisu account and you see a Broadlink banner ad! KO BY DECISION...Subisu! So to sum up, if you are looking to upgrade your Internet service with something in the 512kbps to 1Mb range, you can’t really go wrong with either Broadlink or Subisu, with the following caveats: 1) neither company seems willing to drill holes for your cable lines, so you may have to live with cables snaking in through door jambs and open windows, 2) to pay for your services, Broadlink offers online or scratch card (which is nothing short of a pain in the butt), while Subisu just sends out a babu on a bicycle to collect your payment when due, and 3) you may get better speeds at lower costs with Subisu, at least for right now, until Broadlink sorts out some bandwidth problems. But what’s really crazy about finding a reliable, 24x7 unlimited-service ISP is that you may find yourself in my shoes: where you need TWO. For now, I am keeping both lines from Broadlink & Subisu so that when one company has a temporary calamity, my home network just flips over to the other line still standing. Jiggy Gaton is a quirky kinda techo expat happily retired in Kathmandu. But after 10 years of waiting for western-quality Internet services to arrive, he’s still waiting! http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34903 “English is a very funny language,” my Middle School English teacher often remarked. And it was funny how despite it being a funny, alien, queer language, we were very much required to learn it and master it. Much like how it is funny that I will be expressing this angst we non-English-speaking world have against Angrezi in Angrezi.[break] I personally don’t have any angst against this international language whatsoever. But this is not to say that English comes naturally to me – it is something that I have had to rehearse and practice and perfect. Unlike Nepali, English is something I did not grow up speaking. I assume for most of you out there, it is the same story. But despite not being a native speaker, I don’t mind when someone uses English around me. When people speak in English, I don’t have the absurd urge to scream at them and to ridicule their language preference. In other words, I don’t feel like advocating, “Nepali bhayera Nepalimai kura garnu parchha.” Any language that delivers the message is good enough. Unfortunately, I was quite surprised to find out that most people do not feel the same way as me. I think I first began observing this when I was still in school. Every time someone said something in slightly accented English, they would be stared at and mocked. Any version of English that corresponded most closely to the native English-speakers’ enunciation would be the victim of much teasing. Sometimes, I would be among the ones mocking, sometimes I would be among the ones mocked. But those were much younger days and all were good fun. After all, like my Middle School teacher pointed out, English was a funny language. But a kid or not, it is amazing the feelings that Angrezi can provoke. Why I say this is simple: One of my friends was participating in some sort of a competition a few years back. Let us just say that this competition involved a lot of speech giving, and for some reason, most of the contestants chose to speak in English. Let us not speak of how well (or otherwise) they spoke this language, but let us instead focus on the fact that they did choose to speak in English. As the show was going on, there came a point when a man stood up and shouted something along the lines of, “Angrezima bolya bhayena. Nepal ho, Nepalimai bolnu thik!” It seemed like there would be an andolan then and there as other men stood up and agreed unanimously, “Ho-ho!” I still remember how the poor girls flushed red and made unsuccessful attempts to address the audience. Although the show ended on a good note ultimately, the memory of how those people expressed their angst still lingers with me. It was almost as if this angst had paved the way for hatred. Certainly, to speak in Nepali is a good thing and in fact something that should be encouraged more. But this is not to say that people should be attacked for speaking in English. After having witnessed this horrid situation, my friends and I were talking about how there seems to be a general hatred towards the English language among (not all, but) most people. I was relaying them the story of that night when another one of my friends also had a story of her own to tell. This is what had happened: She and her foreigner friend were taking a microbus. The people were pretty quiet in there –perhaps tired after a long day, she assumes – and the only ones chatting were my friend and her friend. Now because this friend of my friend was a foreigner, it only made sense to talk in English. As they continued talking, there was a general murmur among the others, and by the looks of it, they were giving the two “an eye” and saying, “Angrezi bolnai parne iniharulai!”, as if it was a crime to speak in English. After such rude remarks, she told me that she could not help but shut up. Poor she and her foreigner friend who got to see a little bit of the “Nepali hospitality.” I don’t even blame the ones who share this common unease with the English language though. Sometimes it feels a bit much like people using English to show off how awesome they are or something, to flaunt themselves. So in a sense, I understand where this angst – that has paved way for cynicism, among other things – against Angrezi is coming from. One day, when I was taking a Safa tempo, I came across a situation in which English did feel to be an all too intimidating language. One of the girls wanted to sit inside the tempo. And the person who was sitting in that “coveted corner” refused to move and let her sit where she was. It was actually a silly situation born out of sheer misunderstanding, the way I saw it. But for some reason, this girl misread the whole thing and cussed “Idiot, stupid!” assuming that the other girl would not understand. This in turn provoked the other girl, and before we knew it, we had a show inside the Safa tempo. All the nasty words the girls decided to use were surprisingly in English, followed by translation in Nepali. Talk of a lethal combination! It seemed like being able to cuss in English was somehow more superior, and whoever could use more of such words would be the winner in the argument. It was quite a pity, however, when the tempo driver stopped his vehicle and asked the two girls to leave. Indeed, English is a funny language: it makes you laugh, it makes you angry, and it makes you uneasy. But in a lot of ways, it makes communicating easy. You see, I cannot imagine how else I would have communicated this angst we seem to share against Angrezi were it not for Angrezi. Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34902 The lumberjack would drop in unannounced. By the time he asked my dad, “Master, you have any work for me?” he would be standing in our backyard. The lumberjack looked old—60—maybe older. He mostly wore a white dhoti that had acquired faded yellow color due to overuse. [break] His grimy blue kurta had stains all over and small holes here and there. He had a dark complexion, his salt and peppered hair was never combed, and you would be tempted to think of the yellow spots on the white of his eyes as a sign of his ripe age, of all that he had seen and weathered. “This man can’t stand to see a single tree around our house,” dad said, smiling at the man. The lumberjack smiled back. He carried an axe on his shoulder when walking, but as he stood in our backyard, he kept his tool inclined against the wall of our house and cleaned his face with a stole that hung around his neck. “How much will you charge?” Dad asked. “Je man lagchhai diya?” the lumberman replied. Whatever you feel like. “Kichho nahi diya ta hetai?” my father joked. Will it be okay if I give you nothing? The lumberjack laughed. “Cut that mango tree. Cut that branch only,” dad said, pointing a finger at the branch he wanted chopped off. “Leave the other branch untouched. Bujhali?” “Haun,” said the lumberman nodding. Understood! “Haun!” dad said in sharp mocking tone. “Tu sab kenang puchhtai bhujhali ta kaichhi haun, aar kaam sab unta kardena chhai,” dad said, chiding the lumberjack. You people say that you understand everything but in the end everything is messed up. The lumberjack just grinned in response. As dad blew air into the homemade oven to kindle the flame, the lumberjack sat beside him. “Why are you sitting here instead of getting on with your work?” dad asked. “Didn’t have a chance to have tea,” the lumberjack said, casually. He had arrived at our home at six thirty. He lived on the outskirts, from where it took nearly one and a half hours to reach our home in the city. Probably his family members weren’t even awake when he left home. When the tea was ready, mom asked me to take three cups, for dad, the lumberjack and me. “Dus taka chai ke kataichhi, thik chhai?” dad said. Will deduct 10 Rupees from your wage for the tea, okay? The lumberjack laughed that off as well. He knew when to take dad seriously and when not to. “Why do you leave home so early?” I asked, handing him the cup. “I can’t walk in the scorching sun,” the old man said. “There was a time when I didn’t have to walk so far in search of work.” Then he spoke of the time when the place was not divided into city, town and suburbs. That was the time when the two rivers that flanked the city on the eastern and western edges, marking the cities’ boundaries, flowed with full force. “The rivers you see today aren’t even the shadow of what existed then,” the lumberjack said. “Today, the one on the east comes to life only when it’s fed with waters from the overflowing Koshi River during monsoon and the other has shrunk so drastically that it no longer inspires the same fear and reverence as it did in the past.” This lumberjack had given up keeping track of time long ago. “What’s the use when it’s the doom that you’re heading towards,” he said. He had a good reason for what he prophesied. He had seen the ground beneath his feet change from wild vegetation to prairie to crop fields that “breathed” into “lifeless” dusty trails to gravel to the goddamn asphalt of today that “breathe fire” when it is too hot. “When they almost wiped out the forest, I felt sad, but when they began to cut down bar and pipal trees, I sensed this place had come under the curse of the devil,” the lumberjack said. “The towering trees of bar and pipal at different locations were a mystical presence,” he went on. “Their jumbo size and hulking branches spanning over huge area were a testimony of their majestic existence.” Then he explained how those trees had patronizing influence on the people. “People worshipped those trees, thought of them as god’s abode, and whenever they had to pass by those trees, they circumambulated it clockwise as a show of respect,” he said. The lumberjack didn’t understand that all those changes were meant for progress. The city’s pristine face –languid but refreshingly calm and serene –was replaced by the mask of urbanization. He didn’t understand all the rush. “What does all this huffing and puffing supposed to mean?” he asked. “People think if they slowed down a bit to catch breath the whole world will come crashing down. But if you ask me, they would do a great service to Mother Earth if they gave her a break from all this progress.” The writer is a copy editor at Republica. He admires Gabriel Garcia Marquez and wishes to someday write a novel imitating his style. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34901 Retail therapy: My solution to all of life’s woes! CILLA KHATRY I have over a dozen handbags, countless pairs of shoes, and a room bursting with clothes and knickknacks that desperately call for a garage sale.[break] There’s not a day when I don’t buy something. Not a single day. If I don’t have a shopping bag with me when I return home from work – sometimes I stuff things in my handbag to avoid lectures – Mom is so shell-shocked that it’s a wonder she’s able to formulate a whole sentence to express her surprise. I wasn’t always like this. Or maybe I was. I can’t remember. It’s just that I like the feel of new things. There’s nothing that carrying a new bag, donning a new pair of shoes, or writing in a new notebook doesn’t cure. It’s like instant therapy, and it comes at a much cheaper price than actual therapy. Not to forget, the price is oh so worth it. When I’m depressed, I go out shopping to cheer myself up. When I’m bustling with happiness, it calls for a celebration; so I indulge and buy something new. When I’m bored, I stroll around Bhat Bhateni or Saleways and go back home with at least a bag filled with chocolates, juices, and if it’s a good day, something to pep me up from Hallmark or Archies – usually a fun keychain that I don’t really need, or some weird mask with angry birds on it that I’ll use once and toss aside. I’m on first-name basis with almost all the store owners in my area. If they haven’t seen me in a while, they make it a point to ask about my health or inquire if I had been away. Makes me feel slightly awkward having to answer personal questions, but I guess it’s a small price to pay to avail of good discounts when I check out. I feel something is amiss if I haven’t spent any money someday. That rarely happens, but when it does, I go to bed calculating my chances of shopping before I reach work the next day. On one such unfortunate day last week, I was sitting and brooding about how inundated I had been the whole day and didn’t even have ten minutes to stop by at Bhat Bhateni. Then to console myself, I started playing Temple Run. I realized how addicted I was to shopping when I played the game till five in the morning just to collect enough coins to buy and activate a character. If I couldn’t shop in the real world, I would make up for it in the virtual world. And it was as satisfying as actual shopping. The next day, though I did scour around New Road, I didn’t feel that compulsive need to buy the first thing I laid my eyes on. Instead, I was all set to head to work empty-handed. But my friend gave me an incredulous look and questioned why I wasn’t even buying that pink bag I had so vehemently admired. I didn’t want to disappoint her and walked away with yet another carrier bag. Sometimes these things are way beyond my own control! Follow @cillakhatry Movie Fanatic NISTHA RAYAMAJHI I can’t deny the fact that I am a movie buff. Whenever I can lay my hands on any good movie, I just can’t wait to just sit back and enjoy the show. But it is sad that the movie theatres here hardly put up any Hollywood movies, and if they do so, it is usually the commercial and hyped-up ones. Since I am more into the unconventional movies where the stories are not clichéd and so are more realistic, I solely depend on DVDs to get my regular movie treats. I still remember the time when trying to find a movie would be so much hassle as it was not easily available. There used to be a trend of hiring movie cassettes from shops. Though I don’t recall this, I heard that it was not only expensive to hire a movie but sometimes people had to wait in a queue to return the movie the same day. Later, there even used to be 2/3 CDs made available for just a single movie. Then life became much easier when those were replaced by DVDs. The scene was even more different many years back. People from the older generation say that in their times it was a luxury to even watch a movie. My grandfather used to tell me that when I was not even born, we were the only ones with television in the neighborhood and all the neighbors used to gather up to watch television shows. I can imagine how the scene must be with all the curious eyes glued to the television screen. I am more than glad that the situation isn’t the same now and I belong to a generation where everything is so easily accessible. Whenever I watch a good movie, it just moves me. It sometimes leaves me numb, sometimes keeps me thinking a lot, and there are some that gives me the shivers as well. There are even some that make me really emotional and a roll of tissue paper is just not enough. And there’s always fun to discuss those movies and share the DVDs with whom you can relate as well. There have even been times when I have watched a few movies on one go and my mother almost had to snatch the laptop away from me. Once I even watched a foreign language movie without the subtitles as I was so much eager to watch it and didn’t have the patience till the subtitle thing was fixed. Whatever the case, I am just glad that watching movies are so much easier now as it is by far one of my favorite ways to not only kill time but to immerse myself into a completely different world. Follow @Nisthaz Tea talks UJJWALA MAHARJAN And so we’re around her kitchen table again, cups of tea in our hands. As usual, it was strong black tea for me, milk tea for them, namkeen dalmoth in a glass jar, and we’re talking, laughing and teasing each other. But today we fell silent amid our bursts of laughter too many times. R and I would look at each other and D – she would seem lost. I bet she had many thoughts swirling in her head. We just had one – D’s actually leaving. Her kitchen was where we spent most of our time when we went to her house – not her bedroom or the living room but the kitchen. It had been our joint for the past six years we’d known each other – better than family, better than siblings, better than boyfriends. This was where R tried her first hard drink – a spoonful of whiskey. This was where I revealed to them and to myself that I had fallen in love for the first time. This was where D offered us numerous Hajur Aama-style suggestions with all the wisdom and wit along with the cups of tea and dalmoth straight from the jar. R is a great tea maker, D, a great raconteur, and I, a great listener (my friends say I really am). Our trio was a perfect set and her kitchen was a perfect setting to our seamless friendship. It’s not that her bedroom, the terrace and the familiar lane from Kusunti to Jawalakhel we usually walked saw any less of us three together. But it was something about the kitchen that had us pouring our hearts out to each other. Today, as I sat sipping the last tea R made for us, I realized I was going to miss our tea talks more than anything else. I even imagined recreating this over the virtual world, but there would be just too many of concessions to be made – D would have to do without R’s perfect tea, and R and I would have to do without D’s live(ly) presence. Of course I knew no distance, no matter how great, was ever going to make us distant. But the nearness and the comfort shared over warm cups of tea in and around the familiar kitchen table would be lost with her gone. In many of our cherished conversations, we also talked about even when we were whiny old ladies with grandchildren we would still get together like this. By then, R says (chuckling) she will have perfected her tea skills no one in the world could match, with its sweetness and warmth that instantly sparked conversations; D says (topping off R’s chuckles) she will have acquired more wisdom to bestow and more interesting stories to tell, stories that could captivate and amuse listeners for days on end; and I – I guess I will have waited enough for all of it to come true. Follow @UjjwalaMaharjan Defying conventions ASMITA MANANDHAR A year back, one of my sisters had a serious conversation with all of the cousins and her closest friends who were against her decision on investing in a particular business. Then, she had calmly listened to all the opposing views, without producing any counter argument but answering at the time she was asked to defend her decisions and nodding quietly to all the cons of the venture. But at the end of the conversation, she stated, “Well, sometimes, you have to go against the flow.” It was just a clichéd phrase, one that has been with me since my handwriting practice days. But, an audience throughout the discussion, I had been silently sided against her decisions, supporting the cousins and her best friends. However, when she said about going “against the flow,” I wanted to believe her side of the decision, no matter how many faults it had. I remember the incident after a year, while right now I am contemplating on the question of conventions in our lives. We all live inside a certain frame marked for us, within a certain underlining principle. And if not all, most of us look for ways to go against the conventions. But there are different ways people fight back against the conventional structure. If we turn the pages of history, psychedelic art came out as an alternative to mainstream; likewise, Che Guevera’s ideology was taken as a radical one. Both of these alternatives are highly appreciated in terms of the messages they once sent to society and for the symbols they stood for change. Though both of them have now become the products (or victims) of capitalism (in terms of Che Guevera, his icon). Nowadays, we hear, read and see pictures of Lady Gaga in every media outlet. There are many speculations on her makeup, hairdo, costumes and attitude. And here, I am compelled to think: is she going beyond conventions? You may think I’m a loony for trying to make sense out of the leotards and horror makeup. But I saw a girl in Civil Mall this week which made me think about the “Lady Gaga” effects. The girl was wearing a normal top, quite a decent one with full sleeves, but nothing except that. Her legs were bare; in fact, one could easily see her innerwear while she was standing straight. No, she was not drunk and it was 2 in the afternoon and it seemed as though she was hanging out with her friends. I have no idea what the girl was thinking while she decided on her “fashion.” But that definitely is the kind of “going against the flow” that I will never be sold to. And since it’s the same history that tells us that whatever has come against conventions has been incorporated in the same mainstream bracket after a few years. And then, I go back to the girl I saw in Civil Mall and would like to ask me, you and everyone, “Is that going to be the hot thing very soon?” Follow @framesandlaces http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34900 “When you cook a dish, you should cook with all your heart and mind,’ says Kala Subba, RJ at Hits FM, “otherwise you won’t be able to bring out the best taste in the dish.” Subba had learnt the know-how of cooking from a very early age. She remembers her first dish to be a summer squash vegetable when she was studying in class 2.[brerak] “My sister had taught me to cook for the first time,” says Subba. Coming from a family where helping in household chores wasn’t a big deal, she quickly adapted to kitchen chores. “People may not believe that I enjoy my time inside the kitchen,’ she exclaims. But it was her immense interest in cooking that makes her enjoy her kitchen work and equally appreciated by the people she serves. Whenever she is in the kitchen, she loves what she does. Spicy food is her favorite and forte, says Subba. Her love for Newar cuisines is due to the combinations of various spices in them. Her favorite food, however, is spicy fish of which she knows the ingredients and methodology by heart. Though her experience with cooking has been smooth and a friendly one, she confesses that experimenting has not been easy for her. “I’ve failed numerous times while trying to experiment with dishes,” she says. From her numerous experiences, Subba says that she has learnt to taste the dish before serving to stay on a safe side. She has always been open to learning to cook new dishes but she thinks she is not as good in baking. Learning to bake is in her next priority list. “I think I’ll be taking a baking class soon,” she says. SPICY CHICKEN Ingredients ½ kg of chicken 1 chopped tomato 1 chopped onion 4 pieces of chopped garlic 2 pieces of chopped green chilies 2-4 pieces of dried chilies 4 tablespoons of sunflower oil 1 tablespoon of turmeric power 1 tablespoon of cumin powder A few mint leaves Salt to taste Methodology • Take a pan and heat sunflower oil; • Add cumin powder, garlic and green chilies to it till the mixture turns light brown; • Now take another pan, add sunflower oil to it; • Add chopped onions to it and fry it up till brown; • Now, add chicken to the pan and deep-fry for 15-20 minutes; • Add salt, turmeric powder and fried cumin powder, garlic and green chilies to the pan; • Add chopped tomatoes to the chicken and mix it well; • Add half a cup of water after the meat turn reddish so that the spices can mix and absorb well; • Garnish the spicy chicken with mint leaves and dried chilies, and it is ready to serve. ALOO PIRO Ingredients 3 potatoes 2 tomatoes 1 tablespoon of sunflower oil 2 pieces of chopped garlic 1 carrot A few fenugreek Cumin powder Chili powder Methodology • Take a pan and add sunflower oil to it; • Add cumin powder to the heated oil, followed by chili powder; • Set aside the mixture and boil potatoes in a pot; • Meanwhile, heat oil in a different pan and heat a few fenugreek; • Add chopped garlic and chopped onions to the oil and fry till light brown; • Add tomatoes and mix them well in the pan; • Add the boiled potatoes, chopped in cubes, to the pan; • Add salt, heated cumin powder and chili powder to the mixture and mix it well; • Garnish it with carrot and serve. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34623 Purushottam Jyakhwa of Wonti in Bhaktapur says he has seen packs of feral dogs hunt down 12 calves/cows in his area in the past three years. Baffled by the events and fearing any untoward encounters, Jyakhwa and other Wonti locals have started fending themselves with sticks every time they walk alone in the area in the evenings.[break] “They are in groups of six and seven and sometimes even 20 to 25,” says Jyakhwa who runs a teashop near Wonti. “They first encircle their prey, snarl at it for sometime and then attack it from behind as they go straight for the hamstring (the tendon in the back of the hind legs). Crippled, the prey soon collapses after which the dogs start eating it alive.” A pack of feral dogs linger around a meatshop in Dekocha, Bhaktapur. Photo courtesy: Dr Pranav Raj Joshi Jyakhwa says he even tried to chase away the dogs initially but the dogs would become aggressive at him as well. “It’s almost impossible to scare these dogs off single-handedly and I don’t even dare to do it,” he says. “Moreover, once the dogs have bitten their prey, they rarely survive.” Locals in and around Wonti further say that the packs of mongrels no longer just hunt stray calves but have moved on to prey on the domestic livestock as well. While Sundar Buhyu, a Wonti local, confirms another cattle killing just two weeks back in the nearby Chyamasi, Krishna Maya Suwal of Mili village says she lost 10 of her chickens and two goats to the feral hunters last Dashain. Dr Pranav Raj Joshi, a local vet and stray animal rescuer, has been researching the killings after he was contacted by the locals through his friends three months ago. Surveying the Shree Mili Hanuman brick kiln and surrounding fields, and as he comes across a pack of nine dogs lying out in the barren piece of land, he explains, “Normally, stray dogs aren’t seen walking around in such large groups unless it’s mating season. These dogs are feral, which means they don’t belong to any particular area and keep roaming around for food.” Though Joshi has personally not seen the dogs hunting, every local he talked to during his research told him the exact same details about the tactics they used to kill their prey – by hamstringing the prey from behind, which is typical of the hunting style of wild dogs. “Besides, a month ago, I saw the carcass of a young calf that had been eaten from behind without any deep bite marks around its neck. It’s easy to tell that it had been hunted down by dogs and not other wild animals,” he says. Purushottam Jyakhwa tells The Week about how the dogs attacked cattles. Photo courtesy: Dr Pranav Raj Joshi As he notes the movement of the dogs while keeping a safe distance, he points to a black dog among the group and suggests that it could be the pack leader. “Every hunting pack which consists of both male and female dogs always has an alpha male as the leader, which is more alert, and all other dogs in the pack follow and respect him,” says Joshi. The group of dogs seemingly looks the same as stray dogs seen elsewhere in Kathmandu. However, living in the open fields, they are more muscular and well built. Jyakhwa, however, says that these dogs are more aggressive, and even the way they look at people is different from normal dogs. Joshi, on the other hand, says only more detailed studies can further reveal to identify these dogs other than seeing them in packs. How did it all start? Jyakhwa explains that it is a human-induced problem. Many poultry farmers from Wonti, Jhaukhel and Pakupati would throw their diseased and dead chickens in the river where the dogs went around sniffing for food. Then they started hunting down weak cows and calves abandoned by the farmers and soon developed a taste for game. “The farmers here keep their cows as long as they give milk and when they’re old, they just abandon them along with male calves that are of no use to them,” says Jyakhwa. “They know about the dogs preying on these helpless animals but they don’t care as they had to get rid of them anyway.” But problems rose when these dogs started hunting their household cattle and fowls and even aggressively threatened humans as well. Carcass of a young calf that dr Pranav Joshi came across a month ago in Wonti. Photo courtesy: Dr Pranav Raj Joshi Though some dog bites have been reported around the area, due to lack of adequate study, it is not confirmed that the attacks were made by feral dogs or the local ones. “With the way things are going, the dogs feeding on dead chickens to hunting stray calves and then even sneaking into the sheds to attack domestic cattle and becoming hostile towards people, it’s very likely that there could well be human casualties in the future,” fears Joshi. Exactly a week ago, the Times of India also reported on a 10-year-old girl in Haryana, India, being mauled to death by stray dogs. The locals there were also suffering from a similar problem of the dogs hunting their cattle. Jyakhwa says that people in the Wonti area are already alert and avoid these dogs as much as possible, which has worked till now and no unwanted encounters have taken place. “However, there are many children of brick kiln workers in the area who are at risk. There are also farmers who take their infants along with them to the fields and put them to sleep while they go off to work, which could be very dangerous.” Women from near the brick kiln have complained that when they carry their children on their back, the dogs have often tried to leap at the young ones. “My eight-year-old son once came home crying in the evening from school as his path was blocked by a pack of aggressive dogs,” says Laxmi Suwal, a worker at a brick kiln. “He then took another route and somehow managed to get home safe, but it definitely is scary for kids.” The locals even resorted to trying to kill these dogs by poisoning them. But they often failed because the dogs seemed to outwit them. Dr Joshi however says without proper research they are at a loss on what step to take. “We still haven’t been able to figure out how many packs of these feral dogs we have in this area,” he says. Having heard about such packs hunting in Africa, this is a rare case and he suggests that though one can’t neglect the situation, killing alone won’t be the ultimate solution. Krishna Maya Suwal and other locals near Mili brick kiln talking how the dogs attack their fowls and posses a threat to their children. Photo courtesy: Dr Pranav Raj Joshi Still trying to get help from other canine experts, Joshi says he has been talking to Gretchen Kaufman from Tufts University in the US who is trying to gather facts on how it can be controlled. “One solution could be that we can neuter them so they become less aggressive,” says Joshi. “Moreover, it’s important to spay them to stop them from growing because even in the group that we saw today, there was a fairly young dog in the group which could be the offspring of the dogs in the pack.” Without proper backing and expertise, Joshi says they have not been able to take any significant step.But even experts seem baffled by reports of such incidents. “Ancestrally, dogs are from the same family of grey wolves who were natural pack hunters,” says Narendra Man Babu Pradhan, Conservation Biologist at World Wildlife Fund (WWF). “Men started domesticating these animals some 12,000 years ago after which their hunting and predatory instinct started decreasing gradually but hasn’t yet been completely subdued.” Referring to some past incidents in New Zealand and Bucharest, Romania, where humans have become fatal victims of feral dogs, he says such isolated cases can have various possible factors. “From food deficiency to fear in dogs and people misbehaving towards them, anything can be a reason for dogs often attacking people,” says Pradhan. “In this (Wonti) specific case, too, we can’t generalize, and without a proper site investigation and study, nothing can be said for sure.” Prasanna Yonzon, CEO of Wildlife Conservation Nepal (WCN), further says that forming packs and scavenging is the innate qualities of the species, especially if they don’t have any regular food source. Aggression towards any moving objects and smaller species like cats to mice is also often commonly noted predatory behaviors that all dogs still possess. “The dogs in Wonti have to be semi-feral. They aren’t completely wild and they don’t even belong to any community,” says Yonzon. “In this case, once they succeed in hunting down a prey, and with a sense of victory, they also develop hunting tactics and they will kill again.” Lack of expertise aside, the local authority or Bhaktapur Municipality seems completely unaware of the situation. “We haven’t received any written complaints yet,” says Moti Bhakta Shrestha, an official at the municipality. “If the dogs pose threats to the human community, we’ll have to take measures.” “Who is going to take the responsibility if there are human casualties? Dogs have the right to live but no right to go around hurting humans. So you either adopt dogs before they become a nuisance, or kill them.” Amid the unfavorable and dangerous environment created by the feral dogs, Dr Joshi emphasizes that people should not forget that it is a problem created by humans themselves. Though extreme measures might have to be taken to get the situation in Wonti under control, he is still looking for viable options and expert help that can ensure human as well as animal welfare. Dealing with street dogs “Poisoning and inhuman killing of stray dogs is in no way a proper method to control their population,” says Dr Joshi. “It will only create a vacuum which is filled by other feral dogs that carry different diseases with them.” Community dogs act as guards and are very friendly to local people, he says, and they don’t let strangers or feral dogs come into the community. “Unless they feel threatened or people misbehave with them, they rarely attack,” says Joshi.  Bijay Rai            ABC or Animal Birth Control technique by spaying dogs is the best and most effective method to create a healthy dog population, he says. Working for the welfare of street dogs and animals in Bhaktapur for more than five years now, Dr Joshi also formed a non-profit organization called Bhaktapur Animal Welfare Society (BAWS) that has been treating sick dogs in the area as well as giving anti-rabies vaccination and also spaying some dogs with the help of volunteers from ROB (Riders of Bhaktapur). When the municipality began street dogs poisoning, he says, many of the dogs he had treated were also killed. “It’s discouraging that people don’t understand that street dogs have a freedom to live as well,” says Dr Joshi. “And if they are unhealthy, mangy and diseased, it’s our responsibility to take care of them as we not only share our living space with them but our health is also directly related to theirs.” Whereas the government does not have enough resources and does not even show proper interest in humane treatment of stray dogs, there are several organizations and professionals willing to work to better the situation. Just proper communication and support will be more than enough, he says. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34626 An interesting thing happened in April: elements of fiction turned up as news reports on the biotech giant Monsanto’s presence in Nepal. “Street Riots Form in Response to Monsanto Intrusion into Nepal,” said an initial headline. “Monsanto attempts to force seeds on Nepal,” said another.[break] And an international video report started off by announcing “In Nepal massive protests broke out after notorious Monsanto forced its seeds unto the country’s farmers.” Its web edition reported “The Nepali government has teamed up with notorious agricultural giant Monsanto to force farmers to use its GMO seeds.” The misinformation The “street riots” headline was crafted by Anthony Gucciardi for NaturalSoceity.com. He is described as the site’s “Co-Founder, Editor, Investigative Journalist.” So what was the source of Anthony’s investigation? “According to some Nepal-based activists, Monsanto has been run out of the country by fierce protesting… Hundreds of theanti-Monsanto activists gathered in Kathmandu in front of the U.S. embassy, pouring out from their homes just shortly after the announcement was made.” Why was an event – a single ‘Silent Protest’ organized by the Stop Monsanto in Nepal campaign in November 2011 – being fictionalized in April 2012? Even if you consider the other protest, this one by farmers, that took place in Chitwan, and a third function organized by the Nepal chapter of South Asian Food (SAFSN) Sovereignty Network, none of them amount to April’s hyperbole. On April 7, the Stop Monsanto posted the following note: “STOPPED MONSANTO IN NEPAL! Celebrating Victory!” On April 26, an article titled ‘Stopping Monsanto in Nepal: The People’s Victory’ appeared on LivingGreenMag.com. Written by a Nepali who holds a “double major in International Relations and Communication, and a minor in Political Science,” she also appears to be speaking on behalf of the Stop Monsanto campaign and playing loosely with facts and fiction. “At least for now, our farms are free and our food healthier,” proclaims the author. If the campaigners really believe this based on the cancellation of a hybrid seed-based pilot project, there is a serious need for them to evaluate their work and the issue they are dealing with. The facts Whether activists like it or not, there are a few simple facts that anyone who is discussing the “victory” over Monsanto in Nepal must understand, or perhaps come to terms with. As I first reported here last year, before the American Ambassador put out his statement, Monsanto’s products have been officially sold in Nepal at least since 2004. In 2009, the Nepal Agricultural Research Council (NARC) approved four Monsanto hybrids (Allrounder, 900M, DKC 7074, and Pinnacle) while the Ministry of Agriculture and Cooperatives also approved Monsanto to become the first company in Nepal to receive phytosanitary clearance from the Ministry. All in all, at least 30 international companies have introduced more than 250 foreign seeds so far, while 16 maize hybrids have been approved by the Ministry. That is just the official record of things. One of Nepal’s most prominent agro-business owners told me this week, “You take away all of Monsanto’s products in Nepal and see how the farmers respond.” The implication being that the farmers may not know or care much for the Monsanto brands except that these agro-inputs they are using are working well for them at the moment. On a field trip organized by USAID in January, we visited a large agro-vet store in Western Nepal. There, I asked the owner if he sold any Monsanto products. He said no. Then I pointed out the shelf behind him stocked with Monsanto products. The reason he may have been confused is because the boxes have big logos that say “Seminis.” Looking closer, one can see a fine print that says Monsanto Holdings Private Limited (see photo). Then, either conceding or through late realization, he shared with everyone present (Agriculture Ministry officials, journalists, USAID staff) that at least four varieties of that brand failed to yield crops recently, so he stopped selling those particular seeds. “It could be for a variety of reasons, including inputs, weather,” he explained. The shopkeeper noted that he offered farmers a different variety of seeds for free to replace the ones that did not work. Still, hybrid seeds, Monsanto or otherwise, have for a long time dominated majority of Nepal’s commercial farming. Late last year, I met Jiban Lal Shrestha who manages his father’s Annapurna Beej Bhandar, Nepal’s first seed shop established in 1970 that is also a member of the Royal Horticulture Society of London. On the first floor of an old building in the center of an even older market center, the small shop is filled with packets of hybrid vegetable seeds from Korean, Taiwanese and Japanese suppliers, as well as Annapurna’s own vast range. “I would say almost 80% of the vegetables being grown in Nepal at this point are from hybrid seeds, essentially all commercial farming,” he told me. Hybrid maize, indeed, was first introduced by USAID in the late 1980s, according to an agronomist who has consulted for USAID. Seed control The ‘People’s Victory’ article also states, “Giving in to Monsanto means giving up the control of the seed supply, and ultimately the agricultural industry.” In the context of the Stop Monsanto protests, USAID has stated that should the project have gone ahead, Monsanto had offered to give the seed germ-plasm of those hybrid seeds to NARC and the private sector in Nepal. What may be closer to truth is that two domestic private companies, Chaudhary Group included, were interested in partnering with Monsanto to either bring in the initial foundation seed for later production or just repackage it under their own brand. Either way, what may hold true is that the supplements those seeds would require may have had to be Monsanto products. Looking Back, Looking Ahead Where the Stop Monsanto in Nepal campaign deserves full credit is in making enough noise to take both the USAID and the Ministry of Agriculture and Cooperatives by surprise. This greatly helped speed up the process of questioning and possibly blocking this project at the Parliamentary level, a process that had begun to take nascent shape before the campaign. Initiating an online petition that was eventually signed by 1,500 Nepalis and non-Nepalis, and automatically delivered to specific recipients at USAID and the Agriculture Ministry was the campaign’s most effective pressure tactic. Where the campaign faltered from the start, however, was in its attack on GMO technology even when it was clearly stated the project in question was hybrid-seed-based. “We don’t know why they are saying GMO when the project is hybrid-based,” USAID would rightfully argue. What appears to have happened now is that the campaign has fallen into the trap of being just another online anti-Monsanto group self-satisfied at having played a role in stopping a USAID-Monsanto-Government of Nepal project. Fair enough. It was always a loosely formed group with no dedicated fulltime members, and that project was their primary target. But “Stopped Monsanto in Nepal”? Not even by a long shot, if you go by the facts. That is where the campaign did itself most damage: they neither corrected any of the fictionalized accounts of their actions and role, nor did they offer to correct or contextualize simple misinformation. Instead, they shared them on their Facebook page as it was. And this is something, those who broadly supported the general intention of the campaign could find uncomfortable to be associated with. Where the USAID and the Government of Nepal failed was in refusing to explain the project. They needlessly put themselves in the corner, pitted against their own joint press statement and what I consider to be an impression (but effective) of an angry mob. Most people I spoke to, related or aware of the case, expressed disappointment with the posturing of the American Embassy’s eventual and only response to the case, which in turn reflected poorly on USAID. “If everything is so good, why are they refusing to touch the issue?” was the common and justified response. Also, nobody was forced into anything. USAID had conducted a 2-day stakeholders’ conference before making the announcement that would come to haunt them. The private sector was already interested in Monsanto, irrespective of USAID. Essentially, policymakers and protestors were, and are, playing catch-up to the market. At the American Embassy interaction meeting in January, I asked the Joint Secretary of the Agriculture Ministry how the Ministry decides what policies and programs to develop and implement. “The thing is, the donor agencies have their set agendas, so all the programs we develop are based on the agenda they have outlined for that particular year,” the official, whose job is to liaison between development partners and his Ministry, explained. As disappointing of a reality as that may be, at least it was an honest answer. It is also perhaps indicative of what went on with the Monsanto pilot project. And that is, perhaps, where the nation’s leaders have long failed. Where we would fail as activists, writers, and readers in this privileged era of information accessibility is if we chose to perpetuate fiction as fact. After all, isn’t that what climate change deniers and pro-Monsanto forces are often accused of using? {Next week, the author will publish a follow-up piece that looks at the prevailing debate on environment and sustainable agriculture.} Shrestha is a writer, photographer and a Policy Fellow at the Niti Foundation. You can follow him on Twitter @kashishds or email him at kashish@350nepal.org. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34624 The earthquakes of 1943 and 1988, among other massive tremors, are reminders of the devastating effects earthquakes can have in a highly seismic nation as Nepal. The earthquake in 1988, for instance, that resulted in extreme damages to a lot of buildings brought to attention the need for changes and improvements in building designs and construction. [break] The National Building Code was thus prepared in 1993 as part of a bigger project to tone down the effects of earthquake on buildings. Most countries which have been successful in implementing building codes have achieved it over a period of decades. Even with the building codes, most buildings in Nepal were and are still being constructed with little or no regard for safety. Moreover, in recent years, a large number of building projects are hastily constructing structures that are of unacceptable standards and prone to damages and subsequent collapse in case of an earthquake. The building codes of Nepal primarily deal with matters relating to the strength of the buildings. Site considerations, safety during construction, and fire hazards are also however some of the important points in the building codes which provide guidelines and regulations for the construction of buildings in Nepal. “The building code mainly deals with the structure of the building and reinforcements used in them to make sure they are safe and strong,” says Sagar Krishna Joshi, building code section chief at the Department of Urban Planning and Building Construction. He adds that the Ministry concerned does not grant permission to construct a building unless and until certain criteria are met. But on the other hand, most residential buildings do not have the needed designs for strength. Our municipalities have a system of granting building permits based on the plan and layout of the structure of the buildings. The building permit process takes into account the design plan and building by-laws, including maximum ground coverage, minimum area of open land surface, and distance between two blocks, among other things, but there is no provision in them for the strength criteria. “We have set up a revision committee and are in the process of revising the building code. The current building code is only valid for high-rise apartments and commercial complexes whereas the revamped building code will include residential structures as well,” adds Joshi. On the professional front, too, there is no system of controlling the professional standards of engineers and designers while constructing a building as is specified in the building code. Most of the buildings in Nepal are built by owner-builders who follow the advice of local craftsmen. Hence they are hardly aware of the possible disastrous consequences of imminent earthquakes. Nor do they have any access to information related to safer building practices and incorporation of simple earthquake-resisting features. Biresh Shah, architect at Archiplan in Bishal Nagar, is of the view that the government does not follow up after passing a building plan which is why the building designs are tweaked during the construction process. “There are so many buildings coming up now that the government does not have enough manpower to check whether or not the buildings are being constructed as per the plan submitted while acquiring permits,” says Shah. Shah’s statement will ring true upon coming across many buildings throughout the Kathmandu Valley as most of them have substandard emergency exits and lack refugee areas. Since the government does not issue permits if the designs plans do not meet these requirements, the reason for these aspects being overlooked during construction can be blamed on the their negligence in following up. “Rapid urbanization has resulted in buildings in every possible space within the Valley. And in addition, there are more being constructed. If building codes are not followed and safety is not given utmost priority, then the repercussions of it after an earthquake will be massive,” adds Shah. Arun Dev Pant, architect at Design Cell, agrees with Shah and mentions that since the building code has been formulated keeping safety of the citizens in mind, it needs to be paid attention to. “The building code focuses on safety and so it should be mandatory for all new buildings to follow its guidelines,” says Pant. Pant, however, adds that where safety is concerned, it is not only enough to follow the building codes but the building by-laws also need to be heeded. “The building by-laws define how the city is developed. The building codes are limited to the strength and structure of the building. It is the by-laws that specify how and where the buildings should be built, which is equally important.” Building codes, if implemented properly, will safeguard the city against devastating effects of an earthquake whereas abiding by the building by-laws will guarantee further safety. Joshi believes that after the revision committee completes its task of updating the current building codes, the city will witness enhanced safety in the construction of new buildings. The acceptance of safety requirements and hence the adoption of building codes also depends upon the awareness level of those involved with the building projects. The contractors, designers, architects and owners need to make safety the main priority during building construction. When there is a demand to meet safety standards, only then will building codes and by-laws be stringently followed. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34625 The Week’s Cilla Khatry had an exclusive view of the 3rd episode of Nepali: A TV Blog, a television series about the broader scopes of Nepali identity, and how our diverse identities connect us as Nepalis. A preview: At the center of Nepal’s mid-western region, Nepalgunj is the biggest city in the Banke District where, according to the 2001 census, 28% of the population is Muslim.[break] This perhaps explains why Hindi is spoken more often than Nepali in this particular region. Though quite famous as a business and tourism hub, a lesser known fact about the city is that the Muslim community holds poetry recitation sessions where a group of locals recite shayaris in Urdu and sometimes even in Nepali. “Poetry connects people,” says Abdul Kaiyum Kadari who recites his works at these sessions. His works are mostly in Urdu while another poet, Hari Timsina, recites poems in Nepali. The select few words that one can understand in the Urdu shayaris and the rhythm in which they recite it make these poetry recitation sessions a wonderful delight. These sessions see people of all ages gathering to share their works or just sit back and appreciate the wordplay. Haji Abdul Latif Shouk, who has been a part of these musharaya sessions for over 35 years, shares his views on poetry and how anyone can learn to write shayaris. He believes, though poetry is first and foremost about expressing your feelings, it is equally about language and grammar. “Poetry is all about feelings and no one can teach you that. But language and grammar can be taught. Once you know a language properly, it’s not very difficult to get into poetry,” says Shouk, adding that the poets sometimes fund poetry recitation sessions themselves to keep their Urdu language alive. Their love for their language and homeland – Nepal is expressed in some poems – and it is these particular poems that receive much appreciation and extremely loud applauses during the recitation sessions. Nepalgunj is home to Prem Prakash Malla who not only sings but also composes his own music and writes his own lyrics, as well as folk singers such as Kanaiya Singh Pariyar, Shankar BC, and Sindhu Malla. Besides these well-known names, there are a few local poets who are quite popular in Nepalgunj and people throng to hear them recite their works. Mustafa Ahsaan Qureshi and Abdul Kaiyum Kadari are two names that people are familiar with in the city. But it is not just these men who perform during the recitation sessions, as these sessions are a platform for anyone wanting to showcase their talents. Even a young girl who sings out her shayari receives much applause, as the crowd listening to her grows more enthusiastic with each passing line. The love for poetry is mainly what connects the residents of this diverse city. As Kadari said, it is their shayaris that give them a unique identity while simultaneously linking them all with one another. Nepali – A TV Blog airs on Avenues TV every Saturday at 8:30 am and on Sundays at 9:30 pm. The series hosted by Yubakar and directed by Tsering Choden will also be available on YouTube <youtube.com/user/nepalitvblog> http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34622 I wasn’t at all a major meat consumer. In fact, I loved – and still do – my vegetables. However, when I made a decision to come and study in Thailand, little did I realize that my eating habits would change so significantly because every meal I consume now includes some form of meat in it. For some reason, meat products are far easier to find here than our typical alu tarkari or hariyo saag. So a major meat consumer I’ve become.[break] It’s not impossible to find vegetables here, of course not. It’s just that it’s way easier to find meat. And undoubtedly, I take what I get. Until recently, I hadn’t a clue as to how sucked in I had gotten into this dietary routine of mine that doubtlessly included meat. It was when Mamu called me one evening and asked me not to consume any meat the next day, for some astrological reasons that is beyond my understanding, did I realize how ridiculously difficult it was to refrain from eating meat. I refused her straight out. But you know how it’s so easy to succumb to all that emotional drama. So I was left with no choice but to comply. The next day was some task, I have to say. I remember that the first thing that crossed my mind after I got up was, “Don’t eat meat!” After carefully selecting my fruit and nut cereal instead of ham sandwich, I made a conscious effort to start my day rightly. But can you believe that this “pressure” to desist from eating what I’m not so fond of in the first place was so great that it felt like I had subconsciously internalized this whole “challenge of going vegan” nonsense without even realizing it. It felt more like a chore not because I couldn’t eat meat, but it was because someone had told my mother that I not eating meat on a particular day would be good for me. It felt like a lifestyle choice was being imposed on me. Imagine when during lunch I had to ask the eatery to make me a meal that didn’t exist in their menu! “Did you go vegetarian?” one of my friends inquired, to which I had no answer. How was I to explain to him that I was vegetarian only for that day, that too not because I wanted to be but because someone had told me to be. The woes don’t stop here, no. Do you ever feel like the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid finds you when you least want it to? What I mean is that on the day that I consciously tried so hard to be as far as possible from meat, meat seemed to be looking for me. Friends here and there kept offering me pork balls and chicken nuggets and all the fast food junk that I was asked to stay away from. Of all the days, they had to decide to be so generous to me then! Again, it wasn’t at all that I was struggling to cope with the challenge of being vegan on that day. Like I said before, I love vegetables. But the fact that it wasn’t a decision I made was eating me up from inside. At the end of the day, I was so frustrated with the fact that I eschewed eating meat not because of my own values and beliefs, not even because of my mother’s, but because of some third persons. And when my mind was so preoccupied with such an attitude, you would really wonder if my endeavor to go vegan for that day did me any good, if at all. After all, is it so bad not to be vegetarian? Perhaps not. The countless articles I have read and consultations with many dietitians suggest that if you want to go the vegan way, then there are certain ways of doing it right. I mean, how do you disregard the importance of proteins in your dietary routine? You don’t. But many a people seem to think that the path to a slimmer, leaner – not necessarily healthier – self is to embrace vegetarianism. These people obsessed with stick-thin images surprisingly see going vegan as the solution to their excess body mass problem. This is actually quite funny because these very people tend to disregard the health factor, or even the age factor, when it comes to having a curved body. All I’m saying is: if you want to do it, do it right. I actually remember one of my cousin sisters fainting in front of all of us because she was subscribing to eating only vegetables for her source of energy. Blinded in part by false belief and in part false hope that resorting to vegetables would get her the illusory size zero figure, her consumption pattern got worse off by the day, and needless to say, she wasn’t doing it the right way, either. Granted, it is two different things to go vegan for one day as opposed to a permanent lifestyle adjustment. However, my point is that you can’t afford to be oblivious to false illusions or get someone to impose their views on your lifestyle choice. If you want to go vegetarian, make sure you make that decision and that you make it consciously. Decide to adjust your eating habits – either by going or not going vegan – for whatever reason without compromising your health. At least this way, the challenge of going vegan might not be as mighty as many of us believe. Ayushma  Basnyat is a student of political science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34621 Diya’s an instinctive dancer, without the moves. The three-year-old cherub in pink salwar-kurta wears a lost look as she tries to copy the adults many times her age who are sashaying in alcohol-addled frenzy all around. Occasionally, she bends her knees, gently rocking her torso on her firm, sandaled feet. But light of age and short of practice, that’s as far as she gets.[break] Super (yes, that’s his name), on the other hand, has it all: his picture-perfect moves, like his name, can only be described in superlatives. Barely 10, the boy in yellow t-shirt and black and white baseball cap, the peak jauntily twisted to the right, washed sky-blue jeans and orange sneakers would easily pass for a punk rocker was he walking out on the street. Grooving in the dance room, the blue and green and red rays from the strobe light up above sprinkling his sprightly body, he sets the stage alight. Most of the other dancers stop and look on in amazement at this prodigy who can pull off a headstand, a headspin, a backspin, and one would assume, given the range of skills on display, every imaginable twist and turn a human body is capable of. Two ends of the dancing spectrum they may be, but Diya and Super appeal to me equally. A rider off the bat: I’m not a natural dancer. And no, even booze doesn’t help a jot if that inspiring spark’s missing: The stimulus from the floor has to be strong enough to overcome my propensity to sit back and enjoy people have fun. Peter Lovatt, Lecturer in Psychology at the University of Hertfordshire and who is considered a bit an expert on the science behind dancing, believes people dance, primarily, for social bonding and mate-selection purposes. Even Darwin believed dancing was part of the mate selection process. So could it be that although those two kids certainly got me going, what compelled me off my bums, ultimately, were all the pretty faces around? On the basis of the research in the field so far, probably yes. The findings are consistent across cultures and geography. Interestingly, men tend to watch women’s hips while they dance (the evolutionary logic being that women move their hips more when they are at a more fertile stage—when they are not menstruating—hence sending out subtle mating cues to male brains) while women evaluate the level of confidence and the ease of comfort with which men dance (which in turn gives them a fair measure of the dancer’s place in the ‘survival of the fittest’ race). So it’s not all gloom for occasional dancers. As important as dancing skills are, “...the best way to attract a compatible mate is to relax and just move naturally to the rhythm.” See? I could always argue (against Darwin, no less) that my moving and shaking has absolutely nothing to do with my desire to attract ‘fertile’ mates, and everything to do with my attempt at social bonding; even given some devious subconscious urge that might be at play for why I dance, or as often, choose not to. Again, scientific research suggests, the main reason many people are reluctant to dance is their heightened self-awareness. A bit of it is predetermined: those who come with genes that lend to ‘introvert’ characters are much more dance-shy, as compared to those whose genes lend to ‘extrovert’ characters. But inhibition can also be acquired. Those who grew up feeling uncomfortable about their bodies —I certainly did; it was hard to feel comfortable in a bamboo-thin frame that groaned and winced on the slightest movement—may forever be conscious that people might judge them on the basis of how they look. They also tend to be among the most awkward movers given their limited opportunities to hone their dancing skills: the less they did it, the more they lost out in the skills department to the ‘naturals’ who became even better dancers with time. Thankfully, it’s not impossible to overcome that instinct to hold back, as I found out the last couple of times I hit the floor. It was looking at Diya and Super that compelled me into shedding my inhibitions. Thank God they were there. For that abandonment was such an enriching experience. As I started moving with Diya and her countless friends and family members at a wedding reception recently, I realized that most of my movements were side to side: I liked splaying my legs, and bringing them together; spreading out my arms wide, and by degrees lowering them close to my flanks. Only when I started to dance (and not a moment before) did it hit me: Seldom did I make front and back movements, unlike most of the dancers who seemed to be doing so with ease. By the end of the evening, I was forcing myself into what felt like some very awkward front and back movement of my legs. Likewise, I started imitating the upfront hand movements of those who caught my attention. I must’ve looked like an absolute fool making those jerky, ungainly movements. Assuming people even cared. The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34620 This review of Newar Architecture in three volumes by Niels Gutschow aims to briefly introduce the content of the massive tome. As a researcher on the performance cultures of the Valley, I believe this work running into 1,040 pages expands the sphere of knowledge and research about the cultural and architectural heritage of the Valley.[break] First of all, it makes the readers familiar not only with the corpus of works produced on the arts and cultures of the Valley, ranging from collection of sketches to serious academic works produced by foreign and Nepali scholars over one and half a centuries but, importantly, also with the significant activities taking place in the domain of the urbanization and its impact on the paramparik architectures of the Valley in the current times. While doing so Prof. Gutschow, a German architect and scholar, makes a critical study of the general assumptions and sweeping remarks made over the architectures and the urban spaces of the Valley. He critiques the developmental approaches that the concerned authorities in the past had taken towards the urbanization of the Valley from the 1930s onwards. He points out that even the approaches taken and put forward by the donor institutions and their experts regarding the future trails of the urbanization in the Valley in the 1960s and the 1970s was more romantic than practical. Similarly, he blames the concerned authorities for not taking up any cudgels to learn and to get inspiration from the locally available tried and tested modes and manners of urbanization but only setting out to depend on the donors and their prescriptions. As a result, urban planning of the Valley failed miserably. Therefore, readers and researchers involved in the research activities about the history of urban settlements in the Valley of the earlier periods and of the modern times find this book very useful. Unlike several important books, which dwell more on the past than the present states of the paramparik architectures of the Valley, Newar Architecture in three volumes takes a balanced view. It updates the readers with the modern and contemporary forces, which have directly and indirectly influenced, ruined and defined the paramparik architectures of the Valley of the current states. It introduces and elaborates the urban contexts of the Newars, the urban fabrics, the units of space and the architectural fragments of the Newars. Gutschow also elaborates the works of the first-generation modern architects of Nepal and abroad. He elaborates the efforts and energies that the first generation of modern architects in the Valley lived and failed to live by. Creating newer, dynamic and vibrant idioms of modern building out of the repertoire of paramparik architectures of the Valley was and is still possible. The writer makes us to ponder over newer avenues of research that we need to produce further. This work provides readers new insights to look into the architectures developed during the Rana regime. It gives credit to the Newar artisans for creating not only the famous palaces of the Malla kings, now metaphors of the rich architectural heritage of the Valley, but also more than forty palaces which the Rana rulers built in Kathmandu and Patan cities in the second half of their regime (1880s-1940s). The Rana palaces, as Prof. Gutschow argues, evoke the power of the Newar artisans of the then period. They held such a rich repertoire of skills and crafts of playing with building materials that they, in a matter of few decades, created not only the biggest palace in Asia but also very majestic and sophisticated forms which were foreign to their ancestors. Thus the Rana palaces can also be taken as the production of the Newar architectures as the artisans, the real creators or doers were the Newars, the custodians of the great architectural heritage of the land. As far as my reading about the arts and architectures of the Valley goes, this is a very new and wiser statement. No matter how indifferent the Rana rulers were to the rich architectural heritage of the Valley, their subjects, the Newar artisans, indirectly conquered the Ranas with the kind of architectural performances they did in newer forms to gratify the interests and fantasy of the Ranas. As a theatre person, I draw relationship between the artists who used to stage plays in the Hindi and Urdu language in the so called Parsi theatres in the palaces for the Rana audiences, and the artist commoners who showed their talents through the construction of palaces for the Ranas. Together, these artists form one of the most creative forces of the Rana regime. Newar Architecture provides sufficient information and critical ideas to look again into the architectural history of the Valley and come with newer and significant realization. This work, no doubt a result of Prof. Gutschow’s lifelong, (over forty years now), involvement in the research and preservation and renovation of the architectural and cultural objects of the Valley, is a landmark in the domain of research on the architectural heritage of the Newars. Cultures and architectures of the Kathmandu Valley have probably remained the most chosen domains of studies undertaken by scholars around the globe for several decades. In the contexts of unplanned urbanization and the overflow of migrants to the Valley because of the centralized developmental policies that the governments in the past have had practiced, these formations have become one of the most threatened cultural and artistic objects of value in the present social and cultural contexts. And, despite some significant supports from several donor countries, institutions and individuals, they have become things that need to be ‘protected’ in the very land where they flourished for ages. In such developmental and urban contexts of the Valley, Newar Architecture enables its readers to realize the ‘mistakes’ made during the historical process of modern urbanization in the Valley. There are opportunities for those who can learn from the mistakes. For this, they need to internalize the history, its achievements and failures. That is precisely what the author of the book wants us to do. Moreover, this book shows several trails that researches can follow further. For example, it briefly introduces the changes that the real estate business or housing companies have been bringing to the cityscapes of the Valley. There are several other issues, which Prof. Gutschow leaves for new researchers to take on. This work, published by the Canada-based publication house, Serindia Publications, in 2011 is a must read for students, academics, bureaucrats, researchers and lovers of Newar architectures. The drawings by Bijay Basukala together with historically important photographs give this tome a rich artistic grandeur as one can still see in the Malla palaces of the Valley. My request to the writer and the publishing houses of the Kathmandu Valley that include both governmental and private institutions is to make this book available among the common readers at an affordable price. To conclude, as a reader of Niels Gutschow’s articles and chapters from books and Newar Architecture, I think he is one of the most important names in the heritage of research in the domain of the architectures of the Kathmandu Valley carried out so far. Shiva Rijal, with a PhD on cross-cultural theatre, teaches Drama at the Central Department of English, TU, and now has been conducting research on the public open spaces of the Kathmandu Valley. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34618 Squeezed inside the urban sprawl of ghastly modernism, the premises of the Nepal Academy Hall don’t look spacious any longer. The main building is still imposing, but the edifice wears a rather forlorn look. Perhaps it could do with a fresh coat of paint? The porch was once grand; it now appears gloomy.[break] The driveway was awash with red flags.The unkempt front yard looked even untidier as cadres of trade unions affiliated to CPN (UML) began to gather for this year’s May Day rallies. They could have easily chosen another venue and left the house of art and culture alone. But in the ideologies of uniformity, culture and politics are inseparably intertwined. Tented galleries had taken up the backyard of the main structure. They housed the Indo-Nepal craft exhibition and sales. Exhibitors had begun to set up stalls and dust their wares. It would be quite a while before the first visitors would arrive. Buyers of handicrafts often prefer languid afternoons to do their leisurely shopping. After a spring storm the previous evening, the May Day morning was cool and sunny. Trees appeared greener. Flowers were in full bloom. It was a public holiday; hence the traffic on Kathmandu streets had been unusually thin. It was too good a day to be going mourning. And then the reason behind needless wandering of the mind struck with the force of the head hitting a tree trunk during a careless walk in the wilderness. Attention to atmosphere could have been the brain’s way of diverting the heart towards little pains, pleasures and concerns of everyday life. People gathered at the small outdoor performance nook inside the normally feisty Academy grounds were having difficulty in accepting that they were there to pay tributes to the memories of a young theater personality. The assembly was characteristically small. Life in metropolitan cities can be too complex to leave much time for events that don’t affect one directly. In any case, actor Ranju Jha may have been a familiar name to theater lovers in Janakpur; here in the capital city, she was merely an exotic struggler from the margins who had taken up small roles in Nepali dramas. However, a sense of loss in the intimate gathering was unmistakable. Writers, poets, photographers, filmmakers and artistes in general have a heightened sensitivity towards the ways of destiny. Mourning for a young person induces mixed feelings. The sense of loss is of course paramount. But at the same time, there is a sneaking feeling in some corner of the heart that the one gone could easily have been anyone, including the mourner. The relief induces a sense of guilt, which then expresses itself in public display of sorrow. The emotion becomes even more complicated as memories of the dead begin to pry open recesses of the mind where brief encounters had remained locked for years. The veil of chatter Even though better known as an academic, playwright, poet, and a cultural critic, Abhi Subedi remains a teacher at heart. In his brief homage to the victims of the bomb attack in Janakpur, he tried to lessen the loneliness of the crowd with the observation that great changes in human history had been brought about by just a few thinking men and women charged with the energy of the cause they championed. In that sense, no death in pursuance of a mission goes in vain. Like oil added occasionally to the lamp, death becomes the life of a burning flame. After the customary moment of silence, there was little to do at the venue. Prattle is perhaps a diversionary device grownups use to hide their nervousness. Mourners broke up in small groups. Some began discussing the schedules of the day with their colleagues. A few seemed worried about the implications of violence on body politic. Discussions over the way the news of terrorism have been covered by Kathmandu newspapers dominated many conversations. A reader was impressed by the headline in Nagarik daily of the morning, which was a play upon the title of a short film where Ranju had portrayed predicaments of the protagonist with rare sensitivity. She indeed crossed the doorframe, but her journey ended abruptly. Media person Roopa Jha had not only known Ranju but also appreciated the travails of a professional young mother rearing her children almost on her own. There is a Maithili song that wails about the fate of Janaki—a goddess-incarnate born to take up torments of humanity upon herself and liberate devotees from consequences of their sins. Apparently, women continue to shoulder much of the burden of civilization upon their shoulders to this day, and a part of Goddess Janaki dies with the death of every suffering woman. In a tragic coincidence, Ranju died on Janaki Navami—the day Goddess Sita was discovered inside a pot when Rajrishi Janak was plowing a field to rid his kingdom of a devastating famine. Rupa narrated a conversation with someone in the family of the dead. Ranju was apparently excited about participating in the sit-in organized by the Maithili Natyakala Parishad for an autonomous Mithila state. Life in small towns with their petty rivalries and little concerns could be dull, drab, routine, suffocating and exasperating. In addition to the exhilaration of being an agent of history, the excitement of being in a political rally is akin to appearing on a grand stage with the whole world as audience of the performance. Death on stage then becomes the ultimate act—the last but reality at its best. Ranju will remain etched in the memories of her admirers as she appears in the poster of Chaukhat: A confident lady hiding her apprehensions behind an enigmatic expression that could have been repressed sorrow, suppressed smile or a combination of both emotions. With the mixture of wisdom and courage that only women seem to be capable of marshaling at tragic moments, Rupa expressed her concerns for the future of the orphaned children. Ranju had achieved the highest honor possible for an actor: Death on stage. Her circle of friends too will outgrow their grief after a while. The immediate family, however, would take a long time to cope with the consequences of the death of its sole breadwinner. Dhirendra Premarshi, a well-known language rights activist and media personality, reminisced about his role in sparking recent protests over autonomous Mithila state. He had voiced the claims of the second largest linguistic community of the country in state restructuring debates. There was no way he could have foreseen the terrorist attack on peaceful demonstrations for political rights of a cultural group, but all sensible people are accursed to live with the realization that everyone in society is at least partly responsible for eruptions of violence. While Rupa was primarily concerned with human dimensions of the tragedy, Dhirendra was being personal and political at the same time. Together, they showed some of the ways human beings devise to cope with the stress of handling unsettling experiences. The martyr mechanism Stricken with the shrapnel of the blast that killed Ranju and three other Maithili activists, over a dozen injured victims were writhing in pain on beds of the Eye Ward of the Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital. Parmeshwar Kapadi, an academic and the coordinator of autonomous Mithila State Movement, lay on a crumpled bed. Along with sadness, there was a glint of determination in his eyes. He wanted to emphasize that the victims of the bomb blast in Janakpur had become the very first ‘cultural martyrs’ of the country. What would have Ranju thought had she heard the statement of the most energetic language activist of her hometown? Like conflicts over resources in economy, after a certain point, struggles for cultural rights acquire political overtones. In its essence, violence too is an expression of outrage that it inevitably ignites in its wake. Over the ages, scholars have interpreted the use of destructive methods—duels, devious wars and devastating weapons—in many ways. In the Mahabharata, Lord Krishna justifies wars, even by deception if necessary, for the end of tyrannies and restoration of righteousness. Violent behavior is said to be caused by a longing for emancipation, competition for resources, fear of the other, retaliation of humiliations suffered in the past, or to draw the attention of those one desires even at the cost of death. According to the formulations of René Girard, violence results from learning to desire what others also do and are willing to fight to get it. He calls the urge “the mimetic rivalry.” The logical conclusion of mimetic rivalry, however, would result in the decimation of humankind, as every act of aggression would go on inviting corresponding reprisals ad infinitum. In Girard’s opinion, humanity has invented “scapegoat mechanism” in which surrogate victims absorb the repressed violence of the group. While it may sound sacrilegious to call “martyrs” mere victims of violence—in popular imagination, they embrace death with courage and determination—perhaps it is possible to argue that struggling societies need a steady supply of “martyrs” to hide their inadequacies. Ranju was a freedom fighter in the truest sense of the term, in a way that all of us want to be but few have the courage of conviction to take risks associated with the endeavor. Call her a martyr, if you must, but she was one of this country’s brave mothers whom some of her sons killed on Janaki Navami. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34617 Give me back my friends UJJWALA MAHARJAN Every time I pass by that gate in Sina Mangal – now changed to look all weird and ugly – I can’t help but become nostalgic.[break] Red tikas on their foreheads, garlands and khadas around their necks and shoulders, tears glinting in their eyes, mum lips trying to smile, and accompanied by hordes of family members and friends – I’ve seen so many of them leave like that. The airport, more than a place of check-in and check-out chaos, planes flying in and out, tourists pouring in and out, has somehow become a personal place in my mind over the past few years. A place that reminds me of my friends who’ve driven through the gate, boarded the planes for greener pastures, for good, and have rarely come back.I’m not against it. I know they have had to leave. It would be selfish of me to hold them back and I know not all of them leave forever. But the wait and the distance have been hard. Yes, there’s Facebook, Skype, Viber but all that’s only as good as virtual XOXO. I miss laughing together without any static in the background, talking for hours without waiting for the facial expressions to buffer in boxes and taking long walks together that’s virtually impossible. Next week, I’ll go through a familiar routine – get a gift that you hope will always be cherished and will remind the loved one of the good times, bad times, tears and joys shared, a reminder that you don’t want to be forgotten. Then write an emotional letter in hand. The day they leave, you get to their houses as early as you can to see them busy with their last-minute packing, relatives blessing them, the usual ritual of tika, dahi, flowers, tears, and then drive off to the airport gate, through the gate, and bid them farewell. Till we see you again! But this time, it’ll be harder than ever, I guess. How do I let go of a friend whom I don’t necessarily meet too often but always run to for what I know of as happiness, calm, release and plain comforting company? How can I think of replacing her lively chatter and loud (oh so loud) laughter with muffled sounds over the wireless connections? How can I be without my best friend? As I start silently cursing that gate and the entire airport again, I let a conversation I had with one of my friends roll on in my mind to try and console myself. “Stop hating that gate and that airport so much. They leave from there but then they also return through the same gate, right?” I nod. I nod but it’s all just words and voices in my head till I actually see that gate, that airport, bring back my friends. Follow @UjjwalaMaharjan My passion for music NISTHA RAYAMAJHI As I was clearing the storeroom of my home, I came across this huge wooden box. Eager to know what was inside, I opened it, and to my surprise, it was full of my old audio cassettes. That just made me really nostalgic as it brought back memories of a time when I used to look forward to buying cassettes of my favorite artists. Back in those schooldays, I had this huge collection of cassettes of alternative artists like Match Box 20, The Wallflowers, and Oasis, to name a few. My room would always be abuzz with “Alternative” tracks, my favorite genre at that time. If I was not in my room, then I would be listening to songs on my Sony Walkman. I even used to put so much effort to record the songs they played at FM stations, and if the songs were played incomplete, I would be so pissed off for ruining my record collection. Then there was a time when CDs replaced my huge collection of cassettes. I still remember the moment when I got a Discman as a gift from my father. It was my most valued possession at that time, and when on one of my birthdays my friends got me around ten CDs of my favorite artists, I couldn’t be much happier. I would just put on my headphones and get lost into my own sweet world. And that’s how music has always been a part of me. Whether I’ve just woken up, or I’m getting ready to go somewhere, or when I’m taking a stroll or just cleaning my room, I always have some music playing. I don’t know if it’s one of my fortes, but I was even good at remembering all the lyrics, though I never made efforts to memorize them. My friends would be amused to see me with that talent, or whatever you call it. My tastes in music have always been varied. From Ben Harper to Ani DiFranco and Fiona Apple, from the Beatles to Bob Dylan, I just love listening and exploring all kinds of singers and music. But it was after my schooldays that I discovered my passion for electronic music, or “house” music, to be precise. As soon as I tune in to house tracks, be it of Edward Maya, Avicii, or Axwell, I just get transported to a different world and I call such music my ecstasy. Call it a boon of this modern age; I can now just go online, type the name of my favorite singer, click download, and Voila!, the song is saved. And gone are the Walkman and Discman days as both have now been replaced by my iPod. But my passion for music is all the same. Follow @Nisthaz Don´t worry: Be angry! CILLA KHATRY When you’re angry, this is what I would advise you to do. Here, I’ll even guide you step by step. First, fill a plastic bottle with water and then climb up to the terrace of a tall building – the taller, the better. Though in my case, I personally have to make do with the terrace of my two-storey house. I would like to use the terrace of the six-storey-high structure in my neighborhood but I don’t think those residing in that particularly peaceful building would appreciate it if I barged in fuming and shaking with anger. So I refrain from doing that. I might be angry but I’m not inconsiderate and selfish. Not even in my worst moments, I’d like to believe. Well, let’s get back to the point. I got carried away, as usual. After you’ve reached the terrace with the bottle of water...well, if you’re thinking I’ll tell you to drink it now, oh, you’re so naïve. Now, ladies and gentlemen, smash the bottle down as hard as you can. Whoa! This is one crazy girl, you might say, but trust a mad girl just this one time. I guarantee your anger will vaporize the very instant the bottle breaks into pieces and splashes water all around. I speak from experience. It’s a very liberating feeling – this breaking of the water bottle. And it’s very symbolic, too. When the bottle breaks and the water gushes out, it’s like all the pent-up anger and frustration you have within you gets a release. You might be shaking your head and saying, “She’s a lunatic and belongs in a mental asylum.” Even my Mom says so. But try it when you’re angry and you’ll be Facebooking me your blessings. I get angry for the tiniest of reasons, and so I must’ve spent half my earnings till now on water bottles. Believe me, I’m not exaggerating. I’ve always been an easily upsetable kind of a girl. But this will come as a surprise to most of my friends and colleagues because they’ve always seen me rather calm and composed. And that’s probably because I’ve broken countless water bottles. I don’t hold grudges and am a “forgive and forget” sort of person. I can’t fight a long fight and nor can I stay mad for too long. I’ve realized that while my bottle-smashing tendency might seem preposterous to many and you might be silently judging me, based on my not-so-secret-anymore way of handling anger, the trick actually works to keep me in a good mood despite constantly being surrounded by personal and professional issues. It’s good to let it all out before your anger consumes you. I’ve seen people who’ve kept their anger bottled up inside and vented it at the wrong time and the wrong person. The least I can say is that I don’t do that. And if you’re still judging me, I have a friend who has to break something that’s made of glass when she’s upset. No wonder I’m so twisted. They say you are the company you keep. Just blaming it all on her now to simply to redeem myself. Follow @cillakhatry Gadgets for kids? ASMITA MANANDHAR On a not-so-busy afternoon this week, I went to Civil Mall’s food courts with a couple of my colleagues for lunch. After making rounds of the food stalls, we took a table on the terrace. The table on our side had three kids, possibly in their early teens, their heads down in one particular direction. Just then, a colleague said, “Do you know, guys, if we total the sum of all the gadgets those kids own, it might come out to more that three lakhs?” Then the conversation for a while went on about how hard it is to bear and rear a child these days. In one recent family gathering, my cousin was constantly pestered by her four-year-old son. He denied the company of any other person in the house and was sticking to his mother’s side no matter where he went. After an hour or two, my cousin was not only embarrassed but exhausted and she found an easy way to deal with it: her iPhone. She just handed it over to him and there he sat in a corner and got hooked to the device. It was, however, not the first time I had seen parents or any other relatives charm a kid with their gadgets. The talking Tom, Dick and Harry have been the favorites of almost all the kids in my family circle. But before these i-devices or Android phones and tablets existed, there was only one thing parents offered their kids to end their mischievousness: computers. I have a cousin who has completed his entire childhood sitting in front of a computer screen. He used to be very impulsive as a kid. He could not sit in one place for a split second if he was not offered anything he could destroy in a few minutes or was offered a computer game. Years passed and still his best friend and the only company is the screen that he can stare at without blinking for hours and his fingers moving in a certain rhythm. He shuns any family gatherings. He does not even like to talk, and if he is forced to any conversation, he seems as though getting into immense pain. But my point isn’t only about kids turning un- or anti-social. With the frequent exposure to these phones and tablets, they are not just hating to go out, make friends and play in open but missing all the things that make your childhood a memorable one. I see a flock of neighborhood kids, those whose families survive in one-room homes, playing a game of marbles in a narrow lane to the backdoor of my home. Whenever I take the track, I need to navigate my steps carefully not to disturb the game. It is just fun to watch them, smiling, communicating, fighting. Someday, the companies might develop some apps of marble games. But will kids ever know the charms of playing it in the open, be it even along dirty narrow lanes? Follow @framesandlaces http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34366 When the annual Natak Mahotsav (theatre festival) organized by Nepal Academy came to a close at the end of the millennium, a group that had stayed faithful to theatre despite the domineering rise of television and films were left disheartened. The Aarohan Gurukul theatre group stepped up right around that moment and gave a new life to the Nepali theatre scene before they too came to a pause a few months ago amid the mourning of a whole new generation of theatre lovers.[break] However, true believers of Nepali theatre – the history of which can be traced back to medieval periods vibrant in forms of folk theatre and dances such as Kartik Naach – understood that Nepali theatre would persist and every such hiatus was just an indication of yet another beginning. Earlier this month, the Sarwanam theatre group officially inaugurated their art center at Kalikasthan with the staging of the play “Sakuni Pasaharu” in its 175-seat black-box hall. “After 31 years of my theatre career, all this feels like a dream to me,” says Ashesh Malla, Director at Sarwanam, as he shows around the newly built art center with not just a theatre hall but also a small cafeteria, a library, an art gallery and a space for rehearsals and workshops. The veteran playwright, theatre artist and director, credited by many as a pioneer of street theatre in Nepal, shares how in search of a space to perform, he sometimes ended up on a stage, sometimes in streets and sometimes even in fields. When Malla first participated in the Natak Mahotsav, heading his team from Dhankuta, he was overwhelmed to see hordes of people queuing up just to watch a play. He also immediately fell in love with the stage and stuck around in Kathmandu to further study Nepali literature and pursues his theatre dreams. Having started his career in theatre during the Panchayat regime – an age of censorship – he recalls how play scripts had to be submitted to the government a month prior to its staging. A rebel, Malla however wrote and performed highly political plays. From “Murdabaadma Utheka Haatharu” that was disrupted after just two performances at Tribhuvan University to “Haami Basanta Khoji Rahechhaun” that heralded street theatre in Nepal, his theatre group was active in performing plays during political unrests and rebellious situations. In the following years, the group continued touring the country with plays that raised political and social issues along with several I/NGO-funded awareness-oriented plays. “Pursuing theatre is madness, really,” says Malla. “Sustaining oneself with theatre alone is still very hard. We’re all volunteers here and the initial years will be rough money-wise. But we’re prepared for it.” Malla who believes Nepali literature has enough contents for plays, plans to have at least four Sarwanam productions every year without any foreign adaptation, and give space out to other aspiring theatre groups as well – Bijay Bisfot’s Rangasaarthi, Khagendra Lamichhane’s Shatkon, Ghimire Yuwaraj’s Shilpee theatre are some already in plan. In Anam Nagar, another theatre group, Mandala, is also building its own theatre hall that will be completed in two months. Rajan Khatiwada, creative head at Mandala, shares that the infrastructure is being built with joint investment of its members, so that it won’t be led by a single person, but a team. “Space is important. But the actual reason we’re building this is to see that we don’t wander off from theatre and remain focused in our profession,” says Khatiwada. While theatre as a career option is still unsustainable in Nepal, he says many theatre artists are often tempted and even forced to abandon the sector for a secure future in other professions or leave for greener pastures. Besides infrastructural constraints, another major challenge he points out is to come up with quality plays – in terms of content, its relevance and presentation. Historically, Khatiwada says that Nepali theatre has seen its golden age where the Malla kings themselves wrote plays and performed in them. During the Rana regime, many plays were imported but they served the sole purpose of entertaining only them and adding to their indulgence. With Bal Krishna Sama, Gopal Prasad Rimal, Bhim Nidhi Tiwari and Bijaya Malla, Nepali theatre saw modern daylight and it brought forth many social issues along, playing important roles in socio-political movements as playwrights such as Ashesh Malla and Abhi Subedi came into the scene after them. “In the contemporary scene, however, the tastes and expectations of the audience and theatre artists alike have advanced to a greater degree. They won’t tolerate clichés anymore,” says Khatiwada. “To captivate such critical audience and at the same time provide a challenge and a certain working thrill for us theatre actors alike, the need is to transcend from plays with direct social messages to plays that deal with different dimensions of human feelings and in-depth psyche.” These are the things that make plays hard-hitting and give a more universal appeal, he says but is sad that there aren’t many Nepali plays written yet that posses all these qualities. In such circumstances, many theatre directors often resort to either foreign adaptations or writing scripts for plays themselves; which he says is never the same as when a skilled writer pens it. “Moreover, as the state fails to provide financial security to actors and playwrights, many creative talents in the field are either bought off by I/NGOs or universities abroad, hiring them as lecturers,” says he. “On the other hand, young writers aren’t actually willing to write plays.” Khagendra Lamichhane, one of the young playwrights, admits there is less perks to writing plays than other genres of literature. “It isn’t feasible for any writer to just write plays. Theatre directors still can’t afford to fund playwrights in Nepal or anywhere abroad, either, nor are publishers ready to print plays,” says Lamichhame. “Also, at the same time when I write a play, I can write a novel that will have more readership and publishers will be ready to promote it.” Economic drawbacks alone are a strong factor, adding to the fact that plays are more complex and difficult to write. “Personally, I write and perform in plays because I get a sense of satisfaction. Not everyone can afford to do it, though.” Contents-wise, Lamichhane believes that though western plays written centuries before still feel relevant and thus are powerful even when performed now, there aren’t many such plays in Nepali literature. “Maybe it’s because we’re now going through the same changes that western societies have been through already,” Lamichhane reasons. “But with more trained people who’ve studied theatre and Nepal being blessed with great cultural diversity, there’s definitely plenty to write about.” Young theatre artist Ghimire Yuwaraj, having returned five months ago from Denmark after studying theatre there, says that though the number of newly written Nepali plays could be considered nil, there’s plenty of scope to develop and improvise plays from contemporary Nepali short stories and fiction. Busy reviving Shilpee, the troupe has been touring Nepal with “Naari” – a women issue-based play funded by UKAID, but then toiling without any payment to produce artistic plays. On the occasion of the seventh anniversary of the theatre group, they also staged Naari and “Prawaas,” both improvised play directed by Ghimire at the Nepal Tourism Board. “We have three productions in line – Nayan Raj Pandey’s Prawaas that’s already complete, Khagendra Sangraula’s “Tarajuma Babu Chhora,” and the late Ramesh Bikal’s “Naya Sadakko Geet,” informs Lamichhane. “All these material weren’t initially written as plays but improvising them work out well as plays and also gives you more liberty to experiment.” Ghimire additionally agrees that if these writers themselves wrote plays providing the theatre artists images to work on, the product would be great. “We invited the author of Prawaas to come and see his story being staged as a play. It’s important that writers see the style of plays evolving so that it gives them an idea on what theatre at present requires, and how playwrights also have to evolve.” Working with stage actors from outside Kathmandu, Ghimire says, the focus also should be on developing proscenium theatre outside the capital and tap into their artistic potential as well. Anoop Baral, a well known name in Nepali theatre and cinema, also started his journey in theatre in his hometown of Pokhara with the Aarambha theatre group. Entranced as a child by the culture of Baaloo theatre where performers went around showing plays from door to door, he break-danced his way into acting for plays in Pokhara during his teens. “At the time, the theatre scene there was too filmy, with the hero and heroine falling in love, singing, dancing and fighting to conquer all odds,” shares Baral “But there also were people like Saru Bhakta Shrestha who were producing great literary plays, and it was by working with him that I got into more artistic side of theatre.” Participating in the Natak Mahotsav that lasted more than a week, Baral often drenched himself in the passion and fervor of theatre groups that came together at the capital from all over Nepal. Later, he went to the National School of Drama in Delhi where he says he became polished as a theatre actor. “When you think of the plays we did during the Natak Mahotsav back then, it seemed great at that time,” says Baral. “But the subjects and characters of those plays feel too made-up now. Mythical and historical characters aren’t relatable anymore. Theatre now requires characters whom we would meet in buses, characters who are more flesh and blood, and stories that would actually be cathartic for the audience.” The need, according to him, is not just of playwrights who can provide audience such stories and characters but actors and directors who can present them well on the stage. “I think Kathmandu actually has many theatre groups. But how many skilled directors do we have? How many of these artists understand the importance of stage setting and proper improvisation? In lack of good understanding of the different aspects of theatre, many plays that are staged don’t come off as strongly as their actual contents.” Having emphasized on the need of a theatre school, he has been teaching different aspects of theatre at Actor’s Studio. “Theatre is an amalgamation of all forms of art. It’s not just literature. You need to understand painting to make good use of the setting, colors, lights and shade, and music is as important,” he says. “It’s a vast field, and understanding these elements is important to produce a quality play.” And the level of perception that the theatre audience now have, Nepali theatre still has a lot to improve on in terms of content, presentation and styles. “Moreover, we need to understand that theatre can’t come from this Valley alone,” he adds. “Though we have youths in Kathmandu experimenting with different styles of theatre, writing and performing modern plays is almost non-existent out of the Valley. When most of our local stories and talents are out there, still unexplored, how do we expect to have competitive content?” As it is, many theatre groups in Kathmandu still run under the mercy of I/NGOs. Many theatre workers say such self-sustenance is only a preparation for a future where they can have artistic freedom without having to succumb to financial constraints and lack of space. Gurukul Theatre which people had assumed had overcome such financial constraints also is still at a standstill and without space. While some Gurkul actors are busy in different projects, some are still undecided as to what direction they must take or how long they have to wait. Sarita Giri from Gurukul, who has been busy with conducting workshops, says the break has given her time work on her own. “I’ve been conceptualizing a play about the culture of the Kumari and working with Samuna KC on it,” says Giri. “Nepali theatre has matured over time and there’s a need to change stylistically. But the element that can give Nepali theatre its own identity is its rich cultural roots. The presentation and content, however, can’t be clichéd, and newer dimensions have to be explored.” Kamal Mani Nepal, who made an appearance with Shilpee again, also says, “For more than a decade, Gurukul had been our only working space. Now working independently after such a long time makes me feel this is the time to start something of our own to get our artistic inputs recognized.” Gurukul’s Kul Guru, Sunil Pokharel, on the other hand, is still on lookout for a space to start anew and planning another Kathmandu International Theatre Festival this November/December. If they don’t have a space even by that time, like Pokharel mentioned before, the plan is to erect tents on Tundikhel, if they have to, and go forth with the festival. Moreover, by the time Gurukul gears up again, it won’t anymore be the solo theatre group performing regular plays. Even despite the lack of support from the government, and as more theatre groups step into the competition, it will be crucial for the evolution of Nepali theatre. And competition is always good. Better yet if the government could actually promote art instead of politicizing it, and if the authorities and academics concerned show more interest, theatre talents from outside the Valley would notch up the competition as well. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34369 “The sound of the Indian jet plane taking off enveloped me, and I felt the rattling vibrations creep up to my feet,” says Anusha Udas, 22. “As I watched the jet plane ascend in the clear, blue sky with a kind of speed that I had never witnessed before, I knew I was destined to fly. My heart started beating faster, and that for me was the sign – a dream I had to follow.” Udas was just 15 when she realized she wanted to be a pilot. She was studying in a boarding school in West Bengal, India, when she first saw that jet fly.[break] Udas is now a co-pilot at Fishtail Air, a local company. But she says she didn’t realize that achieving this dream would require breaking many social barriers and challenging Nepal’s patriarchal social structure. Udas’ parents wanted her to be a doctor, which she says is a common dream among Nepali parents for their children. They pressured her to enroll in a premedical course before starting an undergraduate program. Obediently, she did as she was told. But within a week, she says she knew that she did not belong there. “I knew I would do well as a medical student, but that is not what I wanted,” she says. She asserted herself and persuaded her father to enroll her in a pilot training school in South Africa. Finally, she was able to pursue her dream. Men have long dominated the aviation industry in Nepal. Observers attribute this to gender roles embedded into Nepali social structure in which parents prioritize their sons’ educations because they depend on them to take care of them in their old age. The high cost of attending flight school and competition to attain a job make becoming a pilot an even loftier goal. But a growing number of women say they are determined to fly, and men in the industry acknowledge that women are just as capable. Aviation in Nepal started in the 1950s and was a domain only for men, says Y.K. Bhattarai, a senior captain for Nepal Airlines and president of the Nepal Airlines Pilots Association. While the profession is no longer reserved for men, the numbers still reflect a gender disparity. Women hold just four of the 205 airport transport pilot licenses that have been issued in Nepal, says Tri Ratna Manandhar, director-general of the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal, the regulatory body under the Ministry of Tourism and Civil Aviation. Out of the 214 commercial pilot licenses issued by the authority, just 24 belong to female pilots. Bhattarai says that Prabha Vaidya was Nepal’s first female air traffic controller. He says she also tried to become the nation’s first female pilot but was denied the opportunity because of her sex. In 1979, a Canadian government agency provided scholarships for 24 Nepali candidates to receive pilot training in Canada. Nepali pilots still must seek training abroad because of the lack of flight schools in Nepal. Vaidya was the lone woman who applied for this scholarship. All 24 candidates selected for the scholarship were men. “‘We did want Vaidya, but as the only woman in the team, there would have been problems with logistics,’” Bhattarai says the scholarship program coordinator told him informally. “‘Hence, it was not feasible to have her on the team.’” Vaidya says she would have been just as capable as the male candidates. “I don’t believe that a woman is inferior to a man,” she says. “If a man can do something, so can a woman.” Vaidya never went to flight school. Now retired, she serves as an aviation expert for Nepal’s Ministry of Tourism and Civil Aviation. Since then, women have been boldly venturing into the industry. More women are obtaining their pilot’s licenses, and all-female crews sometimes operate domestic flights. “It was a rare sight to see a woman in a cockpit in earlier times, but now it has become a common sight,” Bhattarai says. Bhattarai has flown a Boeing 757 alongside Rana, who now has her airport transport pilot license. He says she is a good pilot. Manandhar says that female pilots can even be better than male pilots. “Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal has employed two women pilots, who were selected from among more than 100 pilots through open competition,” he says. “It proves that women pilots are not inferior to their male counterparts. In some cases, they are even better.” Still, Bhattarai acknowledges that there are remnants of gender bias in the aviation industry. He says the word “cockpit” suggests a territory for men. Many attribute men’s domination of the aviation sector to Nepal’s patriarchal society and deeply ingrained gender roles. “It is the national culture that encourages women in less adventurous jobs like teaching, banking and the likes, which are considered to be easy and comfortable,” Manandhar says. The difference in socialization starts at a young age, he says. Girls are groomed to take up household chores and less challenging jobs, while boys are encouraged to take up challenging and demanding professions. As such, parents are more willing to invest in their sons’ educations. “Parents are happy and willing to spend money in their daughters’ marriage rather than their education,” says Sabina Shrestha, a captain at Yeti Airlines. Professor Yagya Prasad Adhikari, executive director of Tribhuvan University’s Centre for Nepal and Asian Studies, attributes this to the social structure in which daughters leaves their homes after marriage but sons remain to take care of their parents. “Parents expect the son to take care of them at old age,” he says. “This automatically gives more privileges to sons. We are entangled by our own social structure, and the problem is rooted in our society. This has to change.” Other challenges to becoming a pilot include the cost of education and competition to secure employment in the industry. Training to become a pilot is expensive, so not many Nepalis can afford it. The program costs approximately $58,000, Udas and Bhattarai say. Yet nearly 70 percent of Nepalis were living on less than $2 a day as of 2010, according to the World Bank. “Banks do not fund and invest in pilot trainings, and there are no existing scholarships available for pilot training,” Bhattarai says. “Thus, it is only the upper, privileged class who can afford this program.” Nepal also does not have any pilot training schools because of the high cost of maintaining them. Such facilities need infrastructure and resources, such as aircrafts, navigation systems, flight instructors, ground instructors and fuel. “We had witnessed a flying training school in Bharatpur, but it had to close down owing to lack of aircrafts and navigation system,” Manandhar says. Udas says she was unemployed for nine months after returning to Nepal from her pilot training in South Africa in 2009. “I searched for a job, and it was a very difficult task,” she says. “I even visited some airlines twice. Some said it was not a job for a woman, while others warned me that it was a rough job.” But these obstacles did not hinder Udas’ ambitions. She is currently a co-pilot at Fishtail Air and has so far completed 140 hours of flying in Nepal. She is also pursuing a new dream – to become a captain. Her current endeavor is to complete the 1,000 hours of flying required by Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal standards to achieve this goal. Global Press Institute http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34368 The Week’s Cilla Khatry had an exclusive peep of the 2nd episode of Nepali: A TV Blog, a television series about the broader scopes of Nepali identity; and how our different identities connect us as Nepalis . A preview: In far west Nepal, where the mighty Mahakali River cuts off two villages--Chandani and Dodhara, the villagers’ distress rarely makes it to Kathmandu, 698 km to the east. [break] A suspension bridge constructed in 2061 BS stretches 1452.96m between the two villages and is Nepal’s longest bridge but every Chaitra, the river floods and for ten months, the journey that the villagers have to make en route to Gadigoth and Gadda Chauki in India and back to Nepal is treacherous. Talk about inaccessibility. Even in dry season, crossing the bridge in group or carrying big loads across was and is still impossible. The journey via India takes some 1.5 hours, not to mention the hassles at Nepal-India border. Had there been a concrete bridge, the journey would be a matter of five minutes. Cut-off from their own country due to lack of proper roads connecting the villagers to mainland Nepal, Tara Singh Bhandari, a Kanchanpur local talks about the hardships. “Nepali currency is hardly used in any dealing making life all the more difficult. The use of Nepali currency is limited to buying and selling of land only,” she says. “The suspension bridge has made life a lot easier than before but it’s still very tricky in many ways. We have to bribe the security personnel at the Indian border to let our goods pass through every time we travel to and from India. We have to pay at least Rs 400.” Inaccessibility manifests itself in different forms. Bhagyadevi Thapa Magar, a local farmer grieves how there is barely enough food to keep her family going through the year. And it is not just her story. “We are like birds with clipped wings. We can’t sell our land and move to Bardiya or Dailekh. We are stuck in the middle,” says Jasmaya Thapa of Dodhara. The stories of these women echo the lives of some 25, 841 villagers (2001 census) and with no option to pursue, many have migrated to India. A local NGO estimates some 2500 young people cross the border to work every day. Pushkar Dayar and Tilak Thapa are two lads who work in a canteen in India but they are not particularly fond of their jobs and the circumstances that leave them with no choice. “Who likes to work in a foreign country? We have to wake up really early and rush to work and on top of that we are verbally abused for the smallest of things,” says Dayar. Nepali – A TV Blog airs on Avenues TV every Saturday at 8:30 am and on Sundays at 9:30 pm. The series hosted by Yubakar and directed by Tsering Choden will also be available on YouTube< youtube.com/user/nepalitvblog> http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34367 A girl is scared to walk alone in an empty galli which leads to her home. Another girl thinks twice before getting into a crowded microbus. Elsewhere, a guy perched on the street railing whistles to a group of schoolgirls passing by, and another guy passes lewd comments to a girl in some other part of town. How long should the girls endure such situations, be it as receivers or just bystanders?[break] Most importantly, how many times have we taken control of the situation when a man in his 50s feels up a schoolgirl? Frustrated by perversion all around, my three friends and I rolled up our sleeves and that’s how Walk for Respect came along. The movement solely intends to help impart the message that eve-teasing and sexual harassment of any form is a punishable offense. The Public Offenses and Penalties Act, 1970, defines any activity as sexual harassment when unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature unreasonably interferes with an individual’s work performance or creates an intimidating, hostile, or abusive work environment. Unfortunately, the majority of people are unaware of the prevalent provisions against this; in fact, Nepal has even recognized teasing (eve-teasing) as a public offense. Such offence can be penalized, depending upon the gravity of case, with a fine of up to Rs 10,000 and in some cases detention and imprisonment for a certain period. One of the main objectives of our movement is to sensitize people and the community about these issues. It could help instill courage in people to fight back against perversion and convince everyone that fighting back is the only option and the right thing to do. Many people have shown solidarity and are enthusiastic about the movement which started online via a Facebook group – Facebook.com/groups/slutwalknepal. Within three days, our online presence had garnered some 1,400 members. Walk for Respect gets its inspiration from the global Slutwalk Movement and hence the adaptation, to acknowledge the movement. Overwhelmed by the response and the urgency in people’s posts online, we thought we should do something soon to capitalize on the growing number of members and their enthusiasm, should it deplete gradually as in most online activism cases. Although the initial idea behind the walk was to defy the idea that the clothing of women encourages rapes, realizing that the issue of eve teasing and sexual harassment in public places was more contextual to Nepal, we slightly changed our theme and name. The tempo and microbus park outside the NAC Building on Kanti Path/New Road Gate is the central hub of Kathmandu’s inner public transportation. Sadly, it is also the centre for sexual harassment and eve teasing and that’s the reason we chose the location to start the walk. The walk will conclude in Kathmandu Durbar Square where celebrities, musicians and slam poets will join us to help spread the word. Walk for Respect is definitely inclined towards the feminine side but we want to address harassment on males as well. Everyday, almost every woman in this country is harassed or teased. Worse still is that rarely does a woman stand up and speak against the misdemeanor, and when she does, she’s instead blamed for inciting harassment. Eve-teasing is an established culture among teenagers here, and most of them are ignorant of the laws and that the deed is punishable by law. The walk intends to raise awareness and encourage women to speak up and to help end this deep-seated misbehavior within the society. Walk for Respect starts at 1 pm from NAC (previously RNAC) Building and ends at Basantpur on Saturday, April 28, 2012. For details, visit facebook.com/groups/slutwalknepal. The writer is an A-Level graduate from Trinity College and is the founder of Wind of Change which has currently been giving presentations in schools on the issues of human trafficking. He believes change comes from within. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34364 Some days of de-stressing and unwinding aren’t only necessary but also very valid, not to mention completely desirable. It was on such a day of de-stressing that I put all my assignments aside, along with other obligations I had, and decided to lay back and enjoy a back-to-back Bollywood movie night and devour on all things unhealthy to go with my theme for the night.[break] The movies that struck my interest were typically released around the 1990s, and in all the movies that I managed to watch that night, there seemed to be an underlining pattern. It was as follows: the guy meets the girl, falls in love with her within five seconds and then asks her to marry him which ultimately leads to the clichéd Bollywood happy ending. Surprisingly, the girls would accept the marriage proposal just as quickly as the guy would ask. (Surprising, among other reasons, because in some of the movies I was watching, the director had added his “Bollywood touch” and made the lead male character some kind of a don and in spite of that, the girl would agree to marry him. Let’s just say that I saw a lot of flaws with the logic.) Perhaps because I belong to a different generation, all of this was a little too much to digest for me. I mean, how can the guy and the girl have met each other for the shortest time imaginable, and the guy approaches the girl with a marriage proposal? Surely, marriage can’t be the ultimate objective because the entire movie seemed to be based on the guy and the girl trying to get married, and as soon as this purpose was met, there you had your happy ending. And I guess this sentiment might be something I share with most people from my generation. I feel I’m speaking for most of my “modernity”-stricken peers when I try to promote the thinking, career-driven, ambitious person in us, contrary to the love-struck generation prior to us. But what I failed to recognize is that although I saw whatever was being reflected in those movies as something alien, the other generation viewed our ways and our practices as equally alien to them. For example, a lot of seemingly normal things to our age group seemed to escape their understanding. It was when my aunt observed how our generation’s music and movies and other social media-related activities seemed to be so centered on immediate gratification and how we took to the “now and here philosophy,” it hit me that the things that seem so habitual to our age group may not necessarily be a familiar and preferred option to many of the older generations. “It’s like,” she explained to me, “your generation is so caught up with yourselves and the present that you all seem to do things without a care in the world and ignore to think for the long-term.” To explain this sense of immediateness our generation craves, let’s just look at the kind of music that’s coming out today. The Black Eyed Peas’ “Now Generation” is what captures the spirit of our generation for me. From our Wikipedia craze to our Facebook obsession to our lack of patience, the song epitomizes what I perceive our generation is characterized by. If you haven’t already heard the song, then listen to it. For if nothing else, you might just enjoy the melody. To us, be it romance or be it any other thing, we seem to be focused on short-term, noncommittal approaches. And I hadn’t noticed how this characteristic was so true of our generation that it was a sheer moment of epiphany when my aunt pointed out further, “Hamro belama ta sadhainko saathka geetharu hunthe, ajkalkaa geet ta ke hun, ke hun!” while speaking of the kind of romantic songs that were taking the markets by storm these days. Call it ironic, but the song that was playing in the background, as we discussed this, blared out “Baahonmein aa soniye, bas aaj raatke liye,” promoting the underlying romantic relationship patterns, if it can be called so. The entire focus seems to be on “one night” and not at all “saat janam,” if I’m to quote my aunt. Kudos to her for making such a realization and leaving me deep in thought. Was she right? Are the songs and movies characterizing our generation solely degrading such a thing as romance and instead recreating cheap meanings behind it? Now I realize that a few songs – that too, specific to Bollywood – can hardly be taken as solid evidence to answer the question. But is romance indeed becoming demystified and instead other values that would at best be better left neglected are being promoted today? However, the fact of the matter is that Bollywood is also a medium for the media to advocate what they deem will sell. And if they are betting on “baadnam Munnis” and guys who have “bangaya kutta” to make them money, then we must question what kind of a culture we’re welcoming here. Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34365 Travel writing is a genre I was very interested in at some point after my articles began to appear in magazines and newspapers. The allure was not a ‘vacational’ lifestyle but a keen desire to stay close to the nature as often as possible. Early on in my attempts to write travel articles, I realized that there can be several ways of doing travel writing but that they can be broadly categorized into two styles: narrative style and reflective style. In narrative style you express what you saw, and in reflective style you express how what you saw affected you.[break] Bhisma Upreti’s Beyond the Holy Border is a travelogue written for the most part in reflective style. Though essentially a tourist on pilgrimage, Upreti makes a humongous effort to transform himself into a romantic trying to express his love for nature. He does it with some degree of success. To be honest, saying ‘some degree of success’ might be a flawed observation given that the book is translated from original writing in Nepali and it is hard to know without reading the Nepali version how far the translators have been successful to express the exact feeling of the writer. The translation in itself, however, is commendable. Another interesting thing about Beyond the Holy Border worth mentioning is that it could be an inspiration for beginners. It may not be the best example of writing, but it surely can motivate those who want to write but often find it hard to begin, as they worry about what and how to write. Here, the writer has simply turned his journal – a daily written record of (usually personal) experiences and observations – into a book. It is his reflections on the events and experiences from his trip to Mansarovar, right from the time of planning to everything that follows in between until the culmination of the trip. It seems he set out on this journey to explore his emotional self, for you will find very little intellectual observations in the book. That is not to say that emotional renderings are not worth reading. But too much of it is certainly a bit dragging and could prove a test of your patience. A reader can take bloated expressions and flowery sentences as matter-of-fact only up to an extent. The emotional undercurrent is the book’s main thrust, and quite surprisingly, the writer manages to throw the ring of emotion even at the most unexpected places. And that is exactly why often his emotional overflows seem a bit overdone. For example, even before their flight tickets to Nepalgunj is booked, the writer says, “We awaited with bated breath our encounter with the dreamy garden of paradise fallen to earth. I even flew there in my imagination. Wave of emotions, impatience and feelings were ebbing and flowing in my mind.” And when heavy rainfall seemed to play spoilsports, this is how he expresses his disappointment: “It was as though an arrow penetrated my heart. Multihued agony and fatigue splashed over me, as if a spoonful of food had been snatched from the hand of a starving man.” Finally, after boarding the plane and looking out the window, this is how the writer expresses what he sees: The sky was blue and the ground all green… I was trying to hide myself among the blue, green and white… I was racing with excitement, bright with ecstasy. I was flowing – flowing along the hills, around the plains, around knolls and trees, plants, leaves, in the clouds and in the deep blue color of the sky. My eyes started kissing those lovely mountains, white with snow… I was swept far from the shore in a sea of happiness, excitement and pleasure. It seemed to me that my feelings were as clean and white as the mountains. I really needed to share my unbounded ecstasy. And that is what he does mostly throughout the book. I would recommend the book for those who love reflective style of writing and for beginner writers. Personally, I found the book interesting for one more reason: the writer’s uncanny ability to compose prose in poetic style. Let me end with two examples — there are several of them – that caught my fancy: Waking up in Nepalgunj: The morning breeze had died down, leaving buds of happiness in our hands, and we enjoyed their fragrance… The warm sun was like a young Muslim girl stepping out of her home without a Burka for the first time, partly shy and partly enjoying the freedom. Upon reaching Simikot: The green pine trees sang a pleasing melody and the Karnali River down the hill added to the orchestra. The writer is a copy editor at Republica. He admires Gabriel Garcia Marquez and wishes to someday write a novel imitating his style. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34363 Poetry? Yes, please! UJJWALA MAHARJAN When I found out that we had to study poetry for a whole year for my undergraduate course, I was super excited. I was the kind of girl who, as soon as she got new course books at the beginning of the academic school year, would gobble up every poem in the book before classes even started.[break] On the other hand, I remember one of my close friends in the class going “Hyaaaaa, a whole year of poetry!” and scrunched up her face in contempt. My reaction to that was a whole minute of non-stop chatter trying to persuade her how exciting it would be to read and discuss poetry in class. “I hate poetry,” she cut me off abruptly and mocked my geeky love for verses. Bench mates as we were, during most of the poetry classes, whereas I would be rapt in rhyming lines, clever metaphors and wordplay, she would be complaining about how poets could never get to the point and exaggerated everything. “The problem with poetry is no one understands it, not even the poet who wrote it,” she would debate, “It’s all too complex.” On one occasion, I was trying to explain to her Gerald Manley Hopkins’ “The Windhover.” As I finished doing so, I thought I saw a glint in her eyes that indicated she had at least figured out what the poem was about, but then she burst out, “All those big words and long lines just for a flight of a bird. Are poets nuts, or do they have nothing better to do?” I admit Windhover is not one of the best poems you would pick to defend the form of expression. But my argument always was that poetry doesn’t always have to make perfect sense. Sometimes just the way it sounded and the wordplay made it all too beautiful. I would also remind her of all the song lyrics she loved and tell her it was poetry too. And she would just smile and go, “Why don’t they teach that, then?” Good question, I thought. As it turns out, many people are intimidated by poetry just because they think it’s all a jumble of complex words or that it’s too hard to understand. But most of the best poems I know are neither. Instead, they lay out the most complex of feelings that you didn’t think could be humanly possible to express in language with such simplicity and in so few words. So this is what I resolve to do: Once I become a teacher, no matter what level you are at, poetry classes will start of with the students’ favorite song-lyrics. Unless someone quotes Justin Bieber or LMFAO, I believe things will go great. P.S: My earlier bench mate and poetry-hating friend nowadays posts lines from poems on her Facebook status. And it’s at times like these I wish Facebook had a “Loveeeee it!!” button. Follow @UjjwalaMaharjan In awe of those anti-ageing creams CILLA KHATRY Not words you would expect a 20something to utter, I know. But I really am in awe of anti-ageing creams. Recent events have compelled me to look at all those L’Oreal, Garnier, Ponds and other-fancy-names-I-can’t-pronounce anti-ageing products with newfound admiration. A while back, I was dragged to a wedding reception where I had to smile and act very civilized. In other words, I was being the girl my mother secretly wishes I were. Well, for me it was as if I had let an alien invade my body and take complete control of me – at least for a couple of hours. With a smile plastered on my face and praying to the gods to make me temporary deaf, all the while eyeing the long line of people at the buffet table thinking it was ludicrous to have to wait in a queue to heap a plate with food you barely touch at such parties, I was exchanging polite pleasantries with whoever came and talked to Mom. In simpler words, I was once again being the perfect daughter my Mom never gets to see unless she drags me to parties like these. Thinking about it, maybe she insists I attend these parties in hopes that over time the pretense of being refined and well behaved will take over completely and I’ll morph into the elegant mannered lady she has always tried to groom me into. Here, I would like to take a minute and say, “Mom, you raised me well. You did everything right. The mistakes are mine.” Before I get carried away with sentiments, let me get to the point. So there I was standing next to her and carrying on with my good-girl act. I expected a lot of the women she spoke to be older than her and was especially left dumbfounded when those with mops of grey hair and wrinkles that were more like bottomless pits referred to her as dijju. My diva of a mother, on the other hand, looked ravishing in her flawless and not-a-wrinkle-in-sight skin. Comparing her with her supposedly younger cousins, I felt an immense pride to be the daughter of this 60plus young looking woman. While the relatives complimented her on her youth, saying she hadn’t changed a bit over the years, I bet she was blowing mental kisses to those jars of L’Oreal Age Re-perfect sitting on her dresser, just as I was. She religiously applies those thick lush creams every morning and evening. She might skip her meals someday if she’s upset but she’ll not compromise on her skin regime. Having always scoffed at the ads that proclaim the creams to be a miracle that will wipe away the age lines, I now feel a deep sense of appreciation and gratitude towards the makers of those wonderful products. And I’ll make sure that my Mom never runs out of them. In fact, the only gift I got her for Mother’s Day this year were two pots of those expensive but oh-so-worth-it potions. Follow @cillakhatry My scissors confessions! ASMITA MANANDHAR When I saw one of my colleague/sister posting a photo of an origami bow on Instagram earlier this week, my mind drifted back to the time when I was in high school. The picture got me so impulsive that I cut a square from a magazine page and started making a bow out of it. I was trying hard to remember the pattern of the folds, but my fingers were just happy to play with the folding. However, the folds did not fall into the right place. After one failed attempt, I Googled the instructions, and in a minute or two, there it was – the cute origami bow in my hand. While I was so engrossed in bringing up a beautiful bow from a magazine page, my mother had been enjoying the scene all along. She told me that she felt as if she traveled back in time and was looking at me when I was a school kid. I could tell from her expression that we have just triggered a long stream of conversation. My mother has a very good memory of our childhood and she loves to seize every opportunity to reminiscence those past years. I do remember that I was the ultimate gift wrapper in the family. Everyone would come with their gifts and wrapping paper and I used to neatly put them in place. In my later days in high school, they even stopped bringing wrapping papers as I had my own stock of those glittering material and ribbons and markers and what not. And even though I ran out of my stocks, I always had tricks to make the gift look stylish. And just when these scenes were playing in my head, my mother’s loud laugh intervened my thoughts. “Do you remember your love for scissors?” she said before she went back to laugh again. This question is a little embarrassing for me. I know it’s no harm to say that I loved to do things with scissors but I actually loved them a lot – yes, a lot! Whenever I got hold of a pair, I would go around in the house and chop off anything that my little eyes would see as an extra. Well, the problem was, the “extra” included the corners of the curtains, bed sheets, sofa covers, pillow covers, and worse: once I even settled on the corners of one my dad’s blazers as an extra. So, all the scissors were to be kept in a safe locker after its proper use by other family members. And this rule applied to them for a long time. My mother took more serious preventive measures when one of my cousins liked his mother’s new sari so much that he thought of giving it his own design. He took a pair of scissors and made many random cuts on it. Well, I’m glad that the crazy idea didn’t strike my head! Follow @framesandlaces The beauty of reunionsNISTHA RAYAMAJHI Lately, I’ve been waking up early in the morning to the sounds of people having loud conversation. Those people are none other than my cousins who have come over to visit us from the States. Though I toss and turn and change sides in my bed to get that extra sleep, they just don’t let me until I join them in the conversation. And sharing things about the past, pulling each other’s leg and then talking about anything and everything is what we do the whole time. I remember those good old days when, even while growing up, the thought of cousins visiting over would just give me immense joy. I literally grew up with some of them, and it was like having companions all the time. Be it attending parties or visiting some relatives, all of us would always be together. Since I have a lot of cousins, noisy family get-togethers were never a new thing for me. The ambience always gets so lively whenever we have such gatherings, and the special bond we have makes everything even more exceptional and fun. There was even a time when it was so overwhelming when I got to see one of my cousins after twelve years. Even as a child, as far as I can remember, there has always been at least a few of my cousins who would always be around to play with. From getting into trouble to watching cartoons together, to trying our hands in cooking, cycling around, or just roam about our neighborhood, we’ve done it all together. I even remember those times when older cousins, taking the liberty of being a bit senior to me, used to tease and boss me around. It was funny how my little cousins and I used to follow them around as they were supposedly the ones we looked up to. I guess it’s because we all come from the same background, that’s what makes our connection so strong and pure. Having cousins is like having best friends around, and for those who don’t have siblings it can mean something even more special than that. I feel quite blessed for having most of my cousins here except a few of them who are abroad; but they also make a point to visit us at least once every year. And as for now, since everyone is here, I’m trying my best to make the most of our huge cousins’ reunion and letting the good times roll. Follow @Nisthaz http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34362 Imagery created using smartphones and personal computers seems to be one of the most popular of activities these days, judging by the amount of photos and videos posted by my friends and family on Facebook. Even my wonderful Nepali wife, who is not at all a geek, edits her photos in iPhoto and posts them to her online albums, using special effects known only to the most pro of photo manipulators a few decades ago.[break] But today’s easy-to-use yet highly sophisticated apps make it possible for anyone to easily imitate an Ansell Adams, or even a Picasso. And I mean anyone, to include toddlers toting iPads. But the majority of photo and video app purchasers are a bit older than yet just as enthusiastic as a three-year-old when it comes to putting their fingers in the digital paint and trying their hand at this timeless method of self expression (think of the Paleolithic cave paintings of Lascaux). Future generations of anthropologists will have a field day with the digital walls we’re filling today, with everything from pet poodle doodles to sophisticated renditions of Rembrandts, all done without any horses giving up a single hair for a brush, or a single crush of ochre needed to create a rainbow palette. We truly live in an amazing time, graphically speaking. My favorite finger painting tools of late come from Ambient Design, based in Auckland New Zealand. They sell a series of cross-device apps (for Mac, PC, iPhone and iPad) tagged ArtRage, which allow users from age three on up to explore painting and sketching like never before, and these tools are priced from Rs. 160 to Rs. 4,000. Their top of the line app, ArtRage Studio Pro, is really a reincarnation of Corel Painter, the once leader in natural painting software for decades past. I remember getting my first version of Painter back in the 80s (about US$900), and thought the packaging brilliant – the CDs came with a printed user guide, all crammed into a real one-gallon paint can, of which you had to pry the lid open with a screwdriver. This was a great marketing touch that could not be duplicated in today’s world of App Stores and digital downloads. The point of the program was to replace paper and brush and messy watercolors and oils with something of more clean zeros and ones in binary code. But over the 12 versions of Painter, I never really felt I had mastered this app, as the learning curve is even steeper than with the full version of Photoshop. Even with an expensive Wacom tablet and expensive digital airbrush accessories, I never quite got the hang of it. But this week I saw a post of a friend’s toddler dabble made in ArtRage on an iPad, and decided to check out the grownup version, ArtRage Studio Pro – at Rs. 5,040.Within an hour, I was off in watercolor heaven happily dry brushing my way into an Andrew Wyeth stupor. The interface and user interaction here is incredible, and can be figured out in a matter of hours, if not in minutes. There are stencils and stickers that can be laid down on a myriad of canvas choices, and of course, every brush known to man has been recreated in digital form, turning your touchpad into a veritable Rajput painting machine, but without the tedious weeks of crushing up gold and conch shells. Another feature in ArtRage makes it ideal for the budding post-traditional natural brush artist: layers. True virtual layers are represented here, one for the paper used, one for tracing (where you can import a photo or other image to sketch overtop), and unlimited layers of paint and materials layered over the top of that. And these layers are compatible with Photoshop, so you can bring all these layers into Photoshop for further manipulation – or go the other way – and bring your Photoshop layers into ArtRage and combine photographic material with an infinite number of brushed effects. This back-and-forth workflow works flawlessly, as does everything else in this nicely designed app. But of even more interest is this future possibility of digital painting. Once true 3D printing is made available to the masses, we’ll be able to print out, say, our own interpretation of “The Song” by Childe Hassam and then hang that directly on the wall of our living room – in short, creating real canvas and oils from zeros and ones. Jiggy Gaton is quirky kinda techo-expat who once wanted to be a painter but settled for being a wonk instead. For more info, see www.jiggygaton.info. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34361 I thought I would grow out of having this conversation once the tweens faded away. But even in my late twenties, I find myself squandering to figure out “Is this love?” (singing it the Bob Marley way!) When I got down to writing, I almost talked myself out of it. You just know it, or you don’t I thought! What could I say that wouldn’t be banal? Conversations around “love” are generally what girlfriends ramble over lunch. [break] Then again, every human experience evokes similar emotions but has varied interpretations. So, I choose to write nonetheless. Love is my muse this season. Well, I’m of course not talking about the platonic kind. I’m talking about the kind that stirs those carnal instincts in you, gives you a warm fuzzy feeling of lightheadedness, while butterflies flutter in your tummy, makes you twirl to no music and sing a melodious cacophony. So, how can you tell between whether it’s love or just a strong liking for the other person? Are they essentially the same? I was told about this incident recently by a friend who’s been waiting for someone she “believed” was the one for her to come around, which he does after a year to say, You know, my feelings for you at that time were sincere. I liked you. I can’t say I loved you because I haven’t, and I don’t know what it is... So, there goes, kaput! The bubble she had been living in just burst, or did it? Where exactly do you draw that line between the love and the like? Do you base it on comparisons to your previous relationships? Or, does love grow after an initial mutual attraction if given the space and time? Is all love blind, or is it only for the (un)privileged few? A meta-analysis study (Science seems to solve the unimaginable) conducted by Syracuse University suggests that falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second, wow! What was my friend doing all this while then, right? She should’ve known it wasn’t meant to be and moved on. Well, she didn’t. She held on to this semblance of almost a threadbare relationship, finding joy in her little chitchats with him, daydreaming about better days when they went for short romantic getaways, spoke till dawn broke, woke up thinking about each other, and yet couldn’t get enough. Did I mention they were in a long distance relationship and that he was ten years older? Unconventional, huh? But it rocked her boat, alright! It seemed as perfect as it could get for her, and it felt absolutely right. When he traveled across the seven seas to be home and took a short detour to surprise her, she was moved. It was as if life had written for her her very own fairytale, and her knight in shining armor had finally found his way. But like all good things, her joys were ephemeral. There was never an outright pronouncing of love for each other. It was more a muted, subtle acceptance of friendship that grew into attraction and was now on tricky waters because they couldn’t decide what it really was. They weren’t friends, nor did they agree on being partners. There was never an in-between for her, she said, yet there was something that kept bringing them back together. Five years invested in this relationship, whatever name you want to give it. Is it delusional to wait when you are sure it is love? You’re just giving the other a space to be sure, right? The classics I read growing up preached that patience and distance made hearts grow fonder. But honestly, let not your plans be centered around the idea of someone you weave in your head. Love yourself the most and know that good things fall apart only so that better things can fall into place. Let him know how you feel, but also realize that you’ve done your part, and there’s only so much you can say to make someone stay. With age, some of us become cynical about the prospects of “finding” love because the “process” in itself is tiring. This argument I suggest but find it equally flawed because love doesn’t need to be hunted down with a lamp. It finds you, and with hope, when it does, you find your happily ever after; and if not, well, either you choose to compromise or you’re lucky enough to be found a multiple times. No, I don’t believe you love only once. If you take the frills and thrills out of it, love is basically hit and trial. As for the like bit and this is an absolutely personal opinion: it is just an excuse to have the best of both worlds – the joys of togetherness and freedom of non-commitment. Convenience, if you like, so you don’t have to answer the tougher questions and be emotionally vulnerable. Why take the risk? Remember that loving someone is a leap of faith. It doesn’t guarantee anything but it’s almost always worthwhile. If you can’t figure out what this is, the least you can do is to give each other a serious shot and find out where the wind beneath the sails takes you because it’s not very often that you like someone for those many years or, find her waiting for you knowing but not believing that it could very well be like waiting for rain in a desert. Love the one who loves you, not the one you love, they say. I’m puzzled about whether this should be my advice for my friend or her pseudo beau. For those left behind, you can’t control or anticipate the other’s thoughts. As Paulo Coelho famously said, Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.” So get on with your life, make your own plans, do your own thing. Let him figure out what he wants. If you move on, your past would still be a cherished memory, but you wouldn’t have stopped living YOUR life. If it feels like a hopeless situation, remember Karma is instant.What goes around comes around – your moment of serendipity is just around the corner. The writer sometimes want to give it all up and be a nomad. Sometimes, she wants to pursue an MBA but most times, she’s just daydreaming about the travels, the love, the laughter and the dreams which we’re all after. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34356 Whoever said “health is wealth” couldn’t have been more right. If you’re healthy, you’re able to enjoy life and all that it has to offer. But heaven forbid you’re unwell and most of your days are spent being groggy, cranky and visiting the doctor. There are only so many things you can do in 24 hours, and as you rush around trying to fit it all in, you seldom give priority to your health. [break] As clichéd as it may sound, a stitch in time saves nine. Being aware of some of the common health issues and taking adequate measures in time can save you a lot of trouble. The Week consulted several experts and came up with a list of the top five ailments that Nepalis seem to be facing the most. Ailment 1: Hypertension Currently the number one health issue faced by people in Nepal, hypertension is a condition in which the blood pressure is elevated. The causes can be obesity, stress, excessive alcohol consumption, smoking, or genetic trigger. There are no obvious symptoms of blood pressure but unexplained headaches and dizziness can be a few hints. Hypertension shouldn’t go untreated as it can cause the arteries to harden and clog which can lead to strokes. If you’re overweight and suffering from high blood pressure, you can control it with exercise and diet monitoring. Reduce your intake of salt, processed and junk food and have at least three servings of fresh fruits and vegetables instead. “Get your blood pressure monitored regularly and don’t take over the counter medication without consulting a doctor first,” says Dr Kamal Raj Thapa, MD and resident at Bir Hospital, adding that hypertension is a fairly manageable condition if proper care is taken. Ailment 2: Diabetes The incidence of diabetes has escalated in the last 10 years, says Dr. R.N Joshi, Consultant Physician and Head of Department of Internal Medicine at Kathmandu Model Hospital. This is mainly due to lifestyle changes that include excessive intake of junk food and lack of exercise. There are two kinds of diabetes – Type I and Type II. Type I diabetes occurs when the pancreas doesn’t produce enough insulin to control blood sugar levels. It can occur at any age. Type II diabetes or diabetes mellitus is a metabolic disorder characterized by high blood glucose level. This can be due to poor food habits, lack of physical activity, or can also be genetic. Excessive weight loss, frequent passing of urine, abnormal thirst and numbness in the arms and legs can be some of the signs and symptoms of the disease. Those who are overweight or have high blood pressure and high cholesterol levels are at a greater risk of contracting diabetes. Complications of long-term diabetes include damage to the retina and kidney, heart diseases and strokes, to name a few. People with a family history of the disease can prevent it by exercising regularly and following a healthy diet regime. Make sure you include fresh vegetables and fruits in your diet. Also go for a brisk walk or do yoga daily. Those who have been diagnosed with diabetes must make sure to visit the doctor regularly and monitor sugar levels via blood tests. Ailment 3: Insomnia An alarming number of people in Nepal today suffer from insomnia. Even though insomnia is not a life-threatening disease in itself, poor sleep pattern can affect your health in the long run. Difficulty in falling asleep, waking up frequently during the night or having trouble going back to sleep again are symptoms of insomnia. If you have trouble falling asleep, try taking a warm bath before you go to bed. Flashing lights stimulate the brain, making it harder for you to doze off; so switch off the TV or the computer an hour before you plan on calling it a day. Also it helps if your bedroom has a slightly cooler temperature and is dark. Ailment 4: Diarrhoea Diarrhoea usually indicates that there is an irritation or an infection in the intestines. As a result, the lining of the intestines is unable to absorb salt and water from the food you eat and are passed out of the body. Occasionally, diarrhoea is accompanied by abdominal cramps. The stool can be watery and semi formed, sometimes with blood. Diarrhoea needs to be taken care of right away because it causes dehydration. In children, it can be fatal if not treated in time. Always wash your hands properly before you eat and also make sure that you maintain proper hygiene while cooking. As far as possible, avoid street foods. “Have a lot of water or fruit juices to replace the fluid you’re losing in case you’re suffering from diarrhoea,” says Dr Niroj Banepali, a medical officer at Bir Hospital.“Diarrhoea is often neglected but it can cause quite a health scare if not tackled the right way.” Ailment 5: Depression Depression can occur in any age. But in Nepal, it is seen as a problem faced by teens and people in the age group of 20-35. Stress at work, problems in your personal life or loss of a loved one can all lead to depression. Depression can be reactive, that’s when the symptoms are a reaction to a situation in life, or it can be endogenous where depression is caused because of certain chemical changes in your body. Reactive depression disappears when the problem gets solved or when the patient takes the help of psychotherapy, while endogenous depression requires medication. Whichever the case be, depression is fully curable and shouldn’t be equated with mental illness. Taking help from family and friends and talking about your problem is the first step in tackling depression. Experts also suggest keeping yourself occupied with hobbies, or work in case the depression stems from personal issues. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34124 He earns his living selling an assortment of tidbits and snacks – haandima bhuteko makkai, kerau, badam and bhatmaas. Stationary with his pushcart in one corner of Bhote Bahal’s galli, the 26-year-old is caught in a deep frenzy. Not just because the business is slow but also because the Metro Police (MP) is on the lookout for footpath sellers like him. At dusk, he will muster enough courage to head to Sundhara Chowk where his presence is banned by the law.[break] Until just a few months back, life wasn’t so bad for the likes of Bidur Chapagain. [break]In Sundhara, Kathmandu’s central transport hub, business was brisk enough to support themselves. But post-December 2011’s restrictions on street and pavement occupancy, lives of street vendors and their families have seen a severe crackdown. “There’s a fine of Rs 1,500 to Rs 2,000 if we’re caught. We can’t afford to pay such amounts. And we’re consistently harassed and the MPs also destroy our carts and snatch our goods,” says Chaulagain who hails from Hetauda. “They even threaten to put me behind bars if I said a word.” In the early 1990s, a similar crackdown resulted in protests and clashes which marked the beginnings of the Hong Kong Bazaar, a plot of land then set aside as a solution by the government for street vendors to continue their business. The Bazaar thrives but it is testimony to the myopic vision that had set out to get rid of street vendors. Then 2008 witnessed another surge of protests and clashes. There was a whole new breed of street vendors and as a solution, the then Ministry of Home Affairs allotted space in Khula Manch. And in more recent times, the Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) office even tried to facilitate street vendors by introducing a time scheme that would allow the vendors on the streets and footpath after 5 pm. But the problems remain and solutions nowhere close. “In 2008, there were some 6,000 street vendors in the capital alone. Over the years, the number has peaked to some 10,000,” says Dhanapati Sapkota, chief of Enforcement Division at KMC “Street vendors should rather sell things by opening proper shops. If not, they should halt their business. It’s against the law to do business on pavements and public roads. So we really don’t have any other option than getting rid of them from the streets.” Equally adamant, The Nepal Street Vendors Trade Union (NEST) is focused on fighting for their rights. “People are forced to leave their country in search of jobs. But when street vendors are creating employment for themselves in their own country, what’s the harm with that?” questions Raj Kumar Shrestha, NEST Secretary who is of the opinion that the government should at least allow them to do business by setting up an evening market. “So far, there are no laws formulated for street vendors. So the government should identify the vendors and draft proper laws in their support.” Implementation of law on one hand and the lack of law on the other is already creating a stressful hate-hate relationship between the KMC personnel and the vendors. According to Sapkota, some vendors resist to the point of turning aggressive to seize control of the situation. “We’re sensitive to the plights of street vendors but we can’t allow them to take the roads as an alternative. Encroaching roads, sidewalks or any public space for business purpose is illegal,” says Sapkota. “Others shouldn’t suffer because of the street vendors who put up their shops haphazardly. This not only makes difficult for the pedestrians to walk but also hampers the aesthetic components of the city.” With KMC officials hell-bent on implementing the law and their crackdown spreading to major city hubs like Khicha Pokhari, New Road, Ratna Park, Ason, Bhota Hiti, Jamal, Purano Bus Park and Bag Bazaar, the recipe for fresh rounds of protests and clash seem inevitable. The situation is not any different in other business hubs across the city, either. Keshav Malla, 32, a fruit vendor in Purano Baneshwor, complains of having to run around to avoid being noticed by the MPs, which not only hinders his already small scale of business but also increases the risks of him being injured in the process. Purna Chandra Bhatta, MP Sub-Inspector, comments, “How is there risk of fatal accidents during inspections when street vendors run around with their belongings?” He is of the opinion that charging fines won’t work and that special laws need to be formulated to regulate sidewalk sales. “So far because of the support and coordination with local police, the work is going well. But this isn’t only the responsibility of the metropolitan city but the nation,” says Bhatta who has only 190 staff. Discontent with the government’s inability to create a favorable environment for street vendors, NEST president Narayan Prasad Neupane says, “They say that it’s not their responsibility at all. But to help alleviate the problem, we need alternatives and proper support from the government. There are many options for the government to choose from. Rather than restricting us to work, there should be a proper management where street vendors can work with liberty.” Back in Jhochhen where Chapagain lives with his family in a rented room, life’s paramount bitterness has many faces: the utmost being the struggles to make a living in Kathmandu that is growingly hostile vis-à-vis its own struggles as a chaotic city trying to materialize into a maximum metropolis. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34125 When Appa Sherpa reached Jumla, a remote district of the Karnali region, early this month after 82 days of amazing explorations of exquisite natural beauties and lives of people along Great Himalaya Trail (GHT), everyone was all ears for the legendary Mount Everest climber. Appa, who has climbed Everest 21 times so far – more than any one else – is not particularly a good storyteller. Yet the way he narrated his stories tinged with happiness and hardship fascinated everyone.[break] Appa, who is all set to complete the 1,700km GHT by this weekend, along with two-time Everest summiteer Dawa Steven Sherpa, told an enthusiastic audience about how the GHT trekkers lost their way and were forced to spend a night in the dark jungle of Dhorpatan. PHOTO: MILAN GC Appa narrated how they had to wade through several icy rivers. He also shared the sufferings of local people they met along the trail. “I’m disheartened to see children leaving schools for collecting yarchagumba,” said Appa. “I would request all people to send their children to school instead of sending them after yarsagumba.” Walking through the GHT, Appa has witnessed several things that show how climate change is impacting people. One of the most striking evidences of climate change witnessed by Appa is a recently formed ice lake in Sikles of Kaski, just 2,500 meters above sea level. “The locals of Sikles told us that there was no ice lake until a few years ago. They used to go for cattle grazing higher than where there is now an ice lake,” said he. “They now can’t go up beyond the lake.” The GHT trekkers have learnt that some places are getting colder while others are becoming hotter by the year, owing to climate change. “Crops are being damaged by frost in cold places and pests in hot places,” says Dawa. “Even collecting yarsagumba isn’t as easy as it used to be until a few years back. People are moving up every year in search of yarsagumba. In some places, villages are even clashing with each other for occupying areas where yarsagumba can be found.” He added, “When we reached Lawang Village of Kaski, the locals said they now no longer see snow on Machhapuchhre peak. They are saddened to see the head of Machhapuchhre without snow in their own lifetime.” Dawa says the stories they have heard across have not been linked with climate change just for the sake of showing its impacts. “Villagers don’t know what climate change is,” says Dawa. “They just share their personal experiences which, when we analyze, seem like the results of climate change. However, we aren’t for authentically asserting how climate change has impacted the livelihoods of Himalayan people.” In Jumla, Appa also asked the people of Karnali to keep their villages clean so that more tourists turn up. “The first thing tourists seek when they reach a new place is toilets,” says Appa. “If you build toilets, more tourists will come to your villages. When tourism becomes a reliable enterprise, you’ll be able to feed and educate your kids.” Hanaa Singer, UNICEF representative to Nepal, also trekked along with Appa to Mugu from Jumla to express solidarity with the GHT. “We partnered with the GHT because climate change has an immense impact on children,” said Singer. “Climate change has altered rainfall patterns which are causing crop failures. With livelihood of people affected by climate change, children are vulnerable to malnutrition.” “If the GHT opens up new tourism destinations in Karnali, more tourists will come here. It’ll add to the income of the local people and they will be able to adequately feed their children,” she added. Malnourishment has affected Karnali worse than any other region in Nepal. Here, the percentages of malnourished children are higher than elsewhere. According to the National Demographic Health Survey (NDHS) 2011 report, 41% of children under five years of age are stunted. In the mid-western hills, which include Karnali, the percentage of stunted children is 52% – higher by 11% than the national average. “This situation can be improved through tourism,” Singer echoed what Appa said. “People will just have to offer clean toilets and hygienic food.” Dawa says that a lot of new tourism destinations have been explored along the trail. “The Jaljala Pass which lies between Beni and Dhorpatan is one such place,” he says. “You can reach there in just two days from Kathmandu. You can see two beautiful mountains from there. I never thought that such a breathtaking place could be found so near to us.” Appa is also a victim of climate change. His village was badly affected when an ice lake burst back in 1985. “I know how terrible climate change can be,” says Appa. However, Appa believes that those who are more responsible for causing climate change are not really aware of its impacts faced by Nepali people living in the foothills of the Himalaya. “When they also come as tourists to walk on the GHT, they’ll understand how a problem largely created by them has affected the Himalayan people. I think they should realize the problem equally.” Rai is a senior correspondent at Republica. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34123 It is difficult to date the Mahabharata. Experts believe that some of its earliest sections could be as old as three thousand years, if not older. Over a millennium, various Vyasas—literally narrators—went on adding lore and legends of their time. The tome in its present form was complete by about 300 BC and remains largely unchanged ever since. Relevance of its contents, however, is timeless. The text itself is nearly twelve times bigger than the Bible and contains almost everything about life, death and eternity. [break]With the taciturnity of the tactful, a sentence in the book concedes, “What is found herein may also be found elsewhere,” but asserts in the very next line, “What is not found herein does not matter.” The declaration is made without a hint of pomposity. The last of the Vyasas is confident about the completeness of the volume. The Vyasas who compiled, reviewed and updated the monumental work knew that they were mere storytellers. They had no pretense of having an agenda to change the course of history. The claim to divinity too was perhaps grafted into the volume much later. The Vyasas were just narrating legends so that generations to come would read or hear their tales and find solace in the fact that their predicaments are not new. Gods have been fallible. Heroes, too, are human, all too human. History ultimately is indeed His Story: It is His screenplay, His direction, and everyone plays the role Destiny has assigned to disappear afterwards into eternity. Later Hindu priests would insult the memory of the creators of Mahabharata by calling them foxes, the Vyas Rishis who howl in the darkness without the light of religion to guide them. Mahabharata is as much about forces of profanity as graces of piety. Apart from being Itihas—Sanskrit term for ‘this is what happened’—the Mahabharata is a book of philosophy, as also a religious text. The literary merit of the work remains unsurpassed. The section of Bhagvad Gita—the Celestial Song—captures the inherent music of words in such captivating manners that meaning is absorbed without understanding the terms. Little wonder, Arjuna acquires the capacity to see the cosmos in the person of Krishna upon listening to the sermons of Bhagvad Gita. Chanted properly, right words can enchant and lift the listener to a completely different plane. BP Koirala mentions somewhere that the music of Pandit Ravishankar’s sitar exposed him to the beauty of divinity. Howsoever perfect, musical instruments are manmade objects. The sound and silence of living beings can capture infinite musical notes and catch every hue of emotion in all their majesty. The Mahabharata is also an epic—a collection of epics would perhaps be a better characterization—in the western sense of the term where a hero rises against all odds but finally succumbs to his own minor frailty as the world around him crumbles. Bhishma, Drona, Karna, Yudhisthir, Arjun, Eklavya and every other warrior live through struggles of epic proportions. Like any other wars of human history, nobody comes out clean from the war of Mahabharata. Bhisma sacrifices Dharma to protect his oath. Drona is complicit in blatant violations of the norms of war. Faced with a choice between righteousness and friendship, Karna opts for the latter and falls on the warfront. Yudhisthir is Dharmaraj, but he gambles away the queen even after he had lost the kingdom and agrees to utter a white lie to disorient his guru on the battlefield. With Krishna as his charioteer, Arjun can do no wrong but he seldom does anything right to fight the dirty war, either. Consumed by his urge to master archery, Eklavya becomes the best bowman in history only to surrender it all to the ghosts of his imagination when Drona unabashedly asks for his thumb in fees for services never rendered. All human emotions appear in their magnified form. Insatiable greed for glory in Duryodhana, unquenchable thirst of recognition in Karna, remorse and vengefulness of Bhim, illusions of infallibility in Yudhisthir, and debilitating doubts alternating with fierce determination in Arjuna add multiple layers of complexity to the grand narrative. However, peril of humiliation is the thread that binds all events, emotions and their effects in Mahabharata. If Ramayana is a story of struggles for honor, Mahabharata tells tales of humiliation and its consequences in a magnificent manner. Food, water, procreation and fear are fundamental urges of all living beings. Humanity rises and falls when it strikes back in revenge of humiliation or struggles to either gain or restore honor. No wonder, all history is history of warfare; Marx’s depiction of history as ‘class struggle’ is a political rhetoric rather than statement of scholarly analysis. Peace is often an interlude that victors and victims alike use in preparation of yet another war to ‘end all wars,’ which only reactivates the endless cycle of honor and humiliation. The violent conflict that consumed lives of over 14,000 Nepalis, majority of them innocent civilians and non-combatants, is on the verge of conclusion as cantonments where Maoist fighters had been interned for four years passes into the hands of Nepal Army. The promise of peace appears alluringly close with the formulation of a new Constitution within grasping distance. However, dark clouds hover behind the silver lining and it has nothing to do with risks of tribal uprisings or fears of fragmentation that federalism may induce in the polity. Pieces of peace would fall apart only if humiliation is heaped upon Maoists combatants going back home with shards of shattered dreams in their otherwise broken hearts and agitated minds. Sustainable peace will depend a lot upon the ability of the Maoist vanguard in weaving yarns to reassure former combatants that their sacrifices have not been completely in vain. For their own good, anti-Maoist forces would do well to refrain from heaping scorn upon the disillusioned. Human dignity In traditional political discourse, honor and humiliation seldom figure as motive forces of history. Honor goes to the victorious. The vanquished are fated to endure all humiliations and wait for a savior to restore their honor. In Hindu traditions, the wait can last as long as an epoch for the Divine to intervene: Sambhavami yuge yuge, says the Incarnate in the Gita. That may have been true in earlier ages. Attention spans of living beings have since shortened and people tend to lose their patience a lot faster. Be it in religion or in politics—the two streams of human life mingle and separate in a haphazard manner—the scorned tend to rush towards whoever can promise them instant salvation. Baba Ramdev offers wellness in a quick package and has become a rage on the strength of his promise. The ‘Double Shree’ Ravishankar quenches the thirst for meaning in ordinary lives. Shopping malls in developing countries are islands of opulence where the lower middleclass go to have a glimpse of consumerist heaven. A Smart-phone—the name itself is extremely suggestive—assures instantaneous suaveness. What did the Maoists do in the mid-nineties to delude energetic youngsters into taking up weapons rather than implements of agriculture or tools of industry? The ideological wares that these ‘political entrepreneurs’ sold in the countryside had perhaps more to do with restoration of dignity than prospects of prosperity. Critics of suicide bombers sometimes claim that Islamic preachers exploit the gullibility of Muslims and sell the promise of heaven after death to starry-eyed youths. Such an assertion may have an element of truth, but it is far from a complete explanation. Fear of retaliatory violence upon family members also may partly be responsible for desperate acts of mindless violence. However, it is the perception of having been insulted, whether real or imagined is mostly immaterial, that drives men into committing acts of madness. Without the disheveled mane of Draupadi constantly reminding the Pandavas of their dishonor, it is doubtful whether there would have been any Mahabharata. In the coming days, mythmakers and storytellers of Maoists would need to go back to their core constituency among Dalits, Janjatis, and women, and reassure them that their collective sacrifices have been successful in overthrowing Hindu monarchy. It has liberated the downtrodden from shackles of tradition and opened doors of opportunity for the marginalized. For the Madheshis, the Maoists can be helpful in institutionalizing federalism. Madheshbadi leaders admit in private that Maoist politicos born even in Bahun families are far more amenable towards policies of inclusion than Madheshis, Janjatis and Dalits in traditional parliamentary parties. If that be so, honor those Madheshi combatants who fought alongside their Pahadi brethren in a spirit of camaraderie. Sushil Koirala and his sycophants belong to hoary struggles of the past. Madhav Nepal and his minions are waiting for the irrelevance of their opportunistic sloganeering. Pushpa Kamal Dahal and his acolytes too would soon be history. For good or bad, the future course of Nepali politics would be decided by the decisions that released combatants make after going back to their villages that they had left nearly fifteen years ago. Truth be told, all violent conflicts ultimately end up in failure. Despite Mahabharata, there is no dearth of ambitious Duryodhanas, mercenary Karnas, or learned Dronas in any society. The two great and the third mean—the Cold War was ignoble for preponderance of deception—wars have all failed to remove the fear of annihilation. Conflicts between countries decrease even as violence between communities rise. Maoist combatants played a historic role, denying them dignity could prove to be counterproductive for the entire society. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34122 There are many things that try my patience, but few things actually make me lose my grip on it. A reckless pedestrian is one of them. By reckless pedestrians I mean those who don’t use common sense and follow the basic rule of keeping to the sides while walking on the road. Fortunately, I have never hit a pedestrian. The closest call was when a middle-aged man stopped a few cold inches from my bike’s front wheel as I hit the brake abruptly. The man grinned, meekly knowing it was his fault. Why? When it happened, we were right at the center of the road.[break] So this is not about a biker claiming the entire road for himself and asking pedestrians to parachute from the roof of their homes to their destinations. I know bikers can be far more reckless then pedestrians, which could be a subject for a separate column. But here I just want to talk about why pedestrians don’t follow the simple rule of keeping to the sides. The place where I live is about a kilometer from the main road. Everyday, by the time I reach the main road, I exhaust my limited vocabulary of expletives, all of which are directed at pedestrians. Usually a calm person, and not prone to aggressive behaviors, the unnerving experience of passing through the streets on motorbike simply causes the bad guy in me to run riotous. On my way, I come across a group of women who act as if a road is the perfect place to hold a conference on rising vegetable prices, to complain about the wantonness of their husbands, and discuss ways to control their wayward children. I face young boys who, if confronted about their walking on the middle of the road, stare back as if to say, “Tero baule banako road ho yo?” It is no use telling reminding them that the road wasn’t built by their fathers, either. Then there are people who fiddle with their cell phones as they walk, their eyes fixed on the screen instead of the road. And the classic example of people who don’t mind where the little kids with them are going and who are quick to put all the blame on gadiwalas if anything untoward happens. By far the most irritating are the macho guys, local dons of sorts, who think paying heed to horns is an insult and won’t budge or cede an inch of space just to prove who they are. The kinds who think you rather get out of your vehicle and offer a salute or two as they pass. If we take into account the recklessness of other people who unload construction materials on the street and those who park vehicles carelessly, it would not be hard to see why vehicle owners should feel enervated. Of course, pedestrians have their own set of problems and it would be insensitive not to mention them. For example, if vehicles are parked on both sides, the already small road grows so thin it is difficult to figure out the left, right and center of what is left. And the sides usually have gutters with sludge overflowing onto the road. In such circumstances, pedestrians do not have much of a choice. But then I have also found quite often that even if a road is good and you have enough space to walk on the sides, people still love to take the center. As I pointed out in the beginning, I don’t curse each and every person I see on the road, but the recklessness of some really breaks the valve that holds my patience. Since I pass the road twice or thrice a day and pass again on my way back, cursing had become a routine. I had to do something to prevent the expletives from becoming a habit. Thankfully, I am a changed man at long last. I no longer curse pedestrians. And what brought about the change? I did a little research about road rules myself and found that the law is more sympathetic towards pedestrians, perhaps rightly so. The rules in most countries say that while pedestrians, bicyclists and motorists all must share the responsibilities of using public streets and roads, motorists should exercise extra caution because bicycle riders and pedestrians are more vulnerable in accidents. Since those on foot have no protection against vehicles, motorists must look out for them regardless of the circumstances. Blaring horns or giving signals through indicators does not give motorists the right of way. Though the rules don’t put it in explicit terms, the implicit meaning is that unless it is a freeway, pedestrians have absolute right of way. Even if a pedestrian deliberately throws himself in front of a car, the law sees it as the fault of the motorist. A pedestrian can never be at fault. Ther writer is a copy editor at Republica. He admires Gabriel Garcia Marquez and wishes to someday write a novel imitating his style. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34121 Well, for a long time I’ve avoided computerizing my personal finances as 1) I’ve had very few Rupees to fiddle with after paying bills, and 2) I absolutely hate fiddling with numbers. But the idea of a personal finance app is so appealing to a neat freak like myself that I decided to give it a go and report back to you on the results of my testing. First, I looked at the big gun in the arena of personal finance software: Quicken. You’ve probably heard of this one, as Quicken has been around since the days of DOS, and I actually used this package back in 2004 on a PC. It was pretty bad. [break] And things only got worse for maker Intuit when the UK version was discontinued in 2005 (leaving those users stranded) and during 2009 when major bugs in this application were found introducing errors into peep’s checkbooks (as if balancing wasn’t hard enough). But I decided to test out Quicken Essentials for Mac (US$49.99) to see how things have progressed, and I was decidedly impressed with the gorgeous interface and helpful inline wizards planted there to help you quickly get a budget created and track your transactions. Unfortunately, Quicken Essentials is a stripped down version of Intuit’s PC offerings: Checkbook, Starter Edition, Deluxe, Premier, Home & Business... and more. So just deciding which full-featured package to try was enough to make me want to forget about money and go ride a motorbike around the countryside. After quickly giving up on Quicken, I decided to try one of the apps raved about on all the forums: iBank (which won design awards back in 2007, and seems to be the PFA of choice for Mac users. Again, we have another pretty interface but with all the features you would expect: multiple accounts in multiple currencies, checkbook reconciliation, online banking (US Banks only), with portfolio and investment tracking (also US-based), plus an Iphone app (US$4.99) that allows you to enter in expenses on the go, and automatically sync up with your machine at home. I found iBank to work very well, until I started throwing Nepali Rupees into it, and mixing things up with local bank accounts and accounts that I have abroad. In short, my totals with mixed currency transactions became totally hosed. As I’m unforgiving of any accounting software that produces errors, my trial with iBooks ended there, and I moved on to what seems to be the only competitor left: Moneydance (US$39.99). Now when I first opened up Moneydance, I wasn’t blown away by the interface; it looked more like the Excel spreadsheet that I’ve used for years to manage my finances – but the more I used Moneydance, the more I appreciated the lack of colorful eye candy. After all, this is software for numbers, serious numbers. Moneydance does all the things listed above for iBank, but it also does the mixed currency thing extremely well. The dashboard lists your exchange rates of the day, and you can easily change the rate and currency for any transaction that you make. As with any good personal finance package, a budget can be quickly created by looking at your transaction’s categories and tags. Forecasts for the coming year are easy enough to generate, and everything just seems to work, without a lot of fuss and muss. Well, almost everything. At the time of writing, I still haven’t been able to get the free iPhone app to sync with my laptop-based Moneydance. It seems the problem has been known for over a year, and the maker The Infinite Kind LLC has promised a better mobile app coming soon. But perhaps you would have better luck on Linux or Windows, as this same app runs on all popular platforms, and the data is interchangeable between operating systems. However, the Android app (HandyBank) that syncs with Moneydance will cost you another US$4.99. But that app actually works. After using Moneydance for a few hours to set up my checkbook register, download my 401K investments, and configure both my Nepali and foreign bank accounts, I was very pleased with the results. I now feel I have a grasp on every rupee that I currently have in my virtual pockets, and I can see ahead into the future well enough to know exactly how much more I need to make ends meet. What more can you ask from this type of non-sexy no-nonsense software? But before the music stops, I want to mention one current trend in personal finance apps: to get rid of the app, and to manage your finances in the cloud, or in other words, from a website such as Mint.com. Mint is ad-based and free, and they will try and sell you financial services and recommend banks based on your transaction history. The whole idea is so off-putting; I didn’t even bother to sign up. After all, what would I do if the Internet went down or the power went out? I guess it would be back to guessing how much money I had in the bank. Jiggy Gaton is quirky kinda techo-expat who really likes knowing how much money he has, even if that amount is zero. For more info, see www.jiggygaton.info http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34120 I was catching up on some reading, curled up on the park bench. Engrossed in the book, I had managed to drain out all the background noise when from nowhere a familiar voice yelled, “Ayushma!” There, clad in muay thai (Thai Boxing) shorts, running shoes and plain tee, not to mention looking fierce, was Ming. I had recently been acquainted with Ming, and in the short time that we’ve hung out together, she seemed like your typical girly girl: long earrings, beautiful shoes, feminine attire.[break] “I run like a kilometer everyday before I go work out in the boxing gym,” she answered my curiosity with a sparkling smile, and all the while I sat there, completely baffled. I hadn’t the faintest of a clue as to how the petite womanly Ming could have such an interesting hobby. Boo to stereotypes and all that, of course, but I have to admit the admiration, the awe, the augustness I felt when I saw Ming puffing and panting and doing laps. I admired her for she belongs to a society that values femininity and feminish qualities very highly, and yet she boxes away while still retaining all her womanly charms. Personally, I hate that something like muay thai might not be considered an apt sporting choice for females. But in my attempt to balance out idealism with realism, I feel obliged to say that most of the people in (perhaps most) Eastern societies wouldn’t digest the fact that woman can be kick ass boxers. But newsflash: they can! From this admiration also stems awe. This is because I can’t help but wonder how Ming could’ve been fascinated by something as crude and as aggressive as muay thai. After all, all the blood and the injuries involved in it might not make it everyone’s cup of tea. “Well, after I started boxing, it kind of just got addictive. Whenever I need to blow off some steam or just need a pump of adrenalin, I head down to the muay thai studio – and I need this rush everyday,” she joked. Hats off to her! That moment there, she made me proud: perhaps it was the feminist in me kicking in and going “Ha, take that all, you male chauvinistic pigs!” But whatever the reason, I absolutely adore the fact that a girl from this side of the world has what it takes to defy convention. Speaking of defying conventions, another example I have to share with you is that of my cousin sister. Again, recollections of her takes me back to a time when I remember her telling me, “I want my hair to grow as long as Ash’s,” speaking of the waist-long hair of Aishwarya Rai-Bachchan. But talk about transformations when she uploaded a picture of her bald self on Facebook a few months back. Not photoshoped, no. It was the real deal when she decided to get her hair shaved off. “I honestly just wanted to try out something outrageous. He-he,” reads her e-mail in response to my “why?” Again, the same kind of respect flows through when I think of how she mustered up the courage to get rid (for good) of what is considered one of the most feminine assets. Moreover, what’s commendable is that she was the reason behind her desire for change, not a breakup, not some sad-turned-happy story, or vice versa. It was her and hers alone. Of course, the attention that she received was huge, she tells me. And I say “why not?” As I stalked her Facebook profile, kudos were lined up for her, as everybody commended her bold move. It is one thing to see celebrities shaving their hair and walking the red carpet, but to see someone so close to you take such a daring step stirs up inspiration from within, for sure. I admired her for she belongs to a society that values femininity and feminish qualities very highly, and yet she boxes away while still retaining all her womanly charms. And while I have my female acquaintances boxing and shaving their hair, I also have male friends doing pretty unorthodox things and serving as examples. I don’t know about the degree of unorthodoxy, but I know that I don’t know enough guys who are cheerleaders. But this friend of mine is. He is athletic, comprises all the “masculine qualities,” straight (in case you were wondering) and a cheerleader. Cheerleading is just something he’s interested in and that’s that. I see him and other guys along with girls devoting endless hours to practice sessions on campus. He tells me that cheerleading is as normal to him as is taking up guitar lessons, for example, and that it has never crossed his mind that it might be looked at as something effeminate. “I consider myself quite a ladies’ man, you know,” he jokes and the other girls around him nod their heads in agreement and approval. Count on these avant-garde people to give you refreshing perspectives on life. I mean, if you start streamlining what is and what isn’t appropriate, then perhaps you’ll never end up doing half the things that are worthwhile in life. Think about how many people can say that they rocked the bald-chick look at 21 and had guys fall on their feet. The minute you stop being a stickler for punctilio and zoom out into the wider contexts of things, you realize that most of the things that you perhaps never thought of doing are usually the most rewarding. So go do something you never imagined doing in your wildest of dreams, and like Steve Jobs said, “Stay hungry, stay foolish!” Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34119 Coming from the lineage of a Rana family, Jyotsna Singh enjoys the privilege to inherit the grandeur handed down by her ancestry. The entrance to the living room of her home at Bishal Nagar proudly holds the portrait of her grandparents and accompanying it is a life-size mirror with an antique glass frame hung on the adjacent wall. Both are the objects of inheritance but exceptional pieces of antique which she claims to be an avid collector of.[break] “I think my love for antique objects and designs developed as I grew up surrounded by them,” says Singh. However, she feels fortunate that her husband turned out to be equally interested in antiques. They had also dealt with antiques and sold a Louis XV cabinet and a few paintings. “But antique is a difficult business, as most people would not understand its value and for them, the objects will be overpriced,” she shares her experience. She has now resorted only to personal collection. She has no plans of exhibition or sale anytime soon in future. She adds that she feels proud of being the owner of such valuable and beautiful objects. “These hold great meanings for me,” says the antique collector. Apart from the emotional attachment she has for the inherited objets d’art, she equally prides herself on the ones she has bought as they are unique and are not easily obtainable. Paintings have been her newest interest in the list of collection. Shashikala Tiwari’s paintings are on her wish list for now which she is sure will be fulfilled very soon. But her diversion to paintings has not decreased her love for other antique objects. She not only wants to acquire more of those objects but wants to explore them more. “I want to study art, maybe do a course,” says the mother of two. She believes that interest solely cannot fill in for the collection of art or antique. “The aesthetic value is as much important, but if you don’t understand its art, you can’t be connected to your collection,” opines Singh. Grandparents’ portrait Painted by General Samer Shumsher Jung Bahadur Rana, her grandparents’ portrait with a golden frame is one of the finest in her collection. “Rana families used to get their paintings done in England but this was one done by a native, and that appeals to me more,” Singh says. She adds that she would like to have a painting of her family in a similar way but she doubts that it will come out as beautifully as her grandparents’. Console tables Fitted perfectly at either side of her dining hall, these console tables were also inherited by her from her grandparents. The rosewood legs bearing Italian marble gives a brilliant ambience to the room. The mirror above the table adds to the opulence of the table. “It’s above six feet, quite large for a console table,’ she says. Porcelain collection The popular Meissen and Dresden porcelain statues find their space on a wide table in Singh’s abode. The German figures are a rare decorative collection. Marble statue The Victorian marble statue of a woman sits admirably in the center of the drawing room. The bust was also inherited by Singh from her ancestors. French clock Another inheritance, the clock sits proudly on the living room table. Intricately carved around two angels and a firm stand, the clock features Roman numbers on its body. The antique design is one of a piece and serves as decoratively as much as a clock. Piano Sitting quietly below the staircase of the living room, the Knake Muster i/W piano has become more of a decorative appointment than a musical instrument in recent days, says Singh. “My mother used to own this,” she says. She adds that she has an emotional attachment to the instrument as her mother learnt to play piano from the same instrument and she reminisces the days when her mother used to play. “I wish my mother played it but she hasn’t stroked the keyboard for a long while,” she shares. Crystal chandelier She purchased the chandelier some 25 years ago from an antique dealer. It stands tall as a décor by the piano. The intact crystal design bears antique patterns and elegance sweet to the eyes. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=34127 Reviving the retro skirt (UJJWALA MAHARJAN) I’m now a proud owner of a vintage retro-looking skirt. If I had any skills like one of my friends who has been sewing her own summer dresses and uploading the pictures and writing about it on her blog, I would’ve been much more proud of myself. Nonetheless, I did put in the effort of searching for it and getting it altered (with sewing help from others), and now that I’ve been wearing it for some days, it’s become my muse.[break] For my friends at office, too, the skirt is good news. They’re happy to see a splash of color on me. Well, there’s something about springy summer – bright sunny days, cool evening breeze, and fresh new blooms colored mitho pink to orange, yellow, peach and purple that makes you want to soak it all up. But on my clothes, I still find it really hard to soak in too much of any of those colors. The skirt, on the other hand, (I don’t know if it originally belonged to my mom or aunties), was a “great find,” I must say. Amid dresses that were all interesting in their own light – with puffed sleeves, big shoulder pads, frills and laces, I was delighted to find this paisley patterned skirt that fit me perfectly in the waistline. All I had to do was to get it shortened a little to make it more summery and more comfortable to walk in. It has all the colors splashed in just the right amount – maroon, pink, lilac, purple, orange and cream, white, black, grey. What I’m secretly happy about is all these colors are on the dull side of the shades which keeps the overall tone very earthy – the way I like it. And it’s very artistic as well. The purple buds and leaves spring out of the paisley curves filled with different colors within the inner linings and form a mesh of intricate patterns. If I let my imagination run wild, the patterns sometime look a knitted scarf woven from colorful ferns and flowers, and sometimes like clusters of manta fishes swimming around each other in a sea of purple buds. Without boring you further with the details and “bhawanama bageko” thoughts about overlooked patterns, I’ll let you in on another discovery of the week. I practically got a (almost) new dress, all under Rs 100! I’m surely digging deeper into my mom’s and aunties’ wardrobes. Revive the retro! An afterthought: Did I write an entire piece just on a skirt? Damn! Follow @UjjwalaMaharjan Behind the scenes @ The Week (CILLA KHATRY) You should hear all the talks that go on in The Week Bureau and your doubts on whether there’s been an alien invasion recently will be confirmed. From the incessant giggling to the frequent bursts of someone screaming for no reason at all, our bureau is in a constant state of excitement. Our bureau editor takes short breaks frequently, and I know for sure it’s because all the girly chitchat becomes too much for him to take. Being the only man in the team has been hard on him, so much so that he once shouted at us for being too loud. Made us feel like we were back in school, but that’s beside the point. My main reason for writing this today is because, frankly speaking, I have nothing to write about. Five weeks of ranting has drained me out, and this week I have nothing to vent. So I just figured it might be a good idea to tell you all what goes on behind the makings of a weekly paper You might assume the team comprises hardworking and focused individuals. I’m here to bust that myth. Not that we aren’t, but we’re more crazy and twisted than hardworking. But our eccentricities and madness are what make us efficient. At least that’s what we like to tell ourselves. There’s a joke in the newsroom that there’s always food in The Week Bureau, and that’s true because one of us is always hungry or thirsty or suffering from a serious craving. And for us to write, and write good, we need to be fed well. Food sparks brilliance. That’s the excuse we give those who comment on our food habits. A glimpse into our Bureau throughout the week except on Thursdays – Thursdays are when we pretend to be busy because we go to print that very night and if we don’t work, then when will we? – will remind you of college days when you bunked classes to go hang out at a local eatery. The buzz, the smell of food, and the chatter are reminiscent of those delightful days. Personally, I have always been a hyper character but I’ve become more loud and obnoxious in the past few months. In my defense, I would like to say there’s something about this space that messes with the wires in your brain, making you more prone to mood swings, meltdowns and plain old craziness. It explains why I’ve nearly ‘vandalized’ the cubicle while talking on the phone; sat cross-legged on the floor with my head in my hands and bounced stress balls off my friends’ heads. Last week, just as we were starting to think we should buckle down and get serious about work our bureau editor tweeted pictures of all our cubicles. His explanation was that it was late at night, and he was bored. There’s no hope here unless it’s Thursday! Follow @cillakhatry Love thy language (ASMITA MANANDHAR) The shopkeeper had neatly packed the jeans and put it inside a shopping bag. I had my purse in my hand, ready to pay for it. But both of us were talking numbers, mine a few hundred less than his but neither one ready to nod their head for the other’s number. The bargaining continued for a while until my friend intervened. She said the same number I was insisting on but it did not take her long to convince the shopkeeper. All she did was, she asked for it in Newari. After we got out of the place, she winked at me and told me that this trick of hers never goes wrong. “If you know the language, learn to take advantage of it,” she said. And I must say she is a clever one at that. The other day, when we went to Boudha, she greeted the restaurant owner in Tibetan (I bet that’s all she knows in Tibetan). And in return, we got a considerable discount on our bills. While multiple languages have been helping my friend to keep her pocket heavy, it has been a great help for me when I go to field, especially for culture stories, in and around the Kathmandu Valley. The native elderly refrain from giving you any information until you show significant respect to the subject, or you can speak their language. And though I fumble with words and struggle with the right pronunciation, they seem to easily forgive those tiny blunders. Though I was raised in a proper Newar family, I did not learn to speak the language till I was in my early teens. My parents thought I would have difficulty communicating in Nepali if I was trained to speak in Newari from a very early age. Later, when they realized they had been wrong all along, I was not ready to learn the language, as it held very little significance for me then. Then a turning point came when I was 13. I had visited an old settlement in Kirtipur. Everyone there was talking in Newari and it would be very awkward to reply in any other language. So I just resorted in nodding my head. Then I heard someone whisper behind my back, “Is she deaf and dumb?” Nowadays, I somehow manage to speak the basics of the language, helpful while shopping or doing stories. It is also important for me to learn to speak my native tongue before I set out to learn foreign languages. I know some of you are nodding as you read this because you too have ignored your native language most of your life. I remember once a Rai friend told me, “At least you hear the language, know how it’s spoken. But I don’t know what my language used to be, how my name would sound in my mother tongue.” For the least, I think I should be glad that I have been spared the pain of losing my own language. Follow @framesandlaces Talk about being unprofessional (NISTHA RAYAMAJHI) It was one of those hectic days when I had to take care of too many things at the same time. But taking some time from my busy schedule, I somehow managed to fix an appointment to interview a person. Not wanting to waste any time, I then made my way to Basantpur along with my photojournalist colleague. I didn’t realize that it had started to get so hot until I stepped out on the road in the scorching heat. Taking a stroll amid the chaos in the core of the city, we finally reached the place. Being one of the popular restaurants in town, the place was crammed with young people with loud music on the backdrop. As per the request of the interviewee, we then went to the rooftop and while we were there, the thoughts of my pending works and things I had to deal with were still roving in my head. As we were just getting started with the interview thing, the person had already started to get fidgety. Noticing that, even my friend was starting to feel uncomfortable. He then started taking several phone calls and breaks in the middle. My friend was exchanging glances with me as she too was quite surprised to see his behavior. The person again disappeared for a while. After we waited for around 45 minutes, the person finally showed up. Then saying that he had an urgent meeting, which sounded really not convincing, he apologized and left abruptly. If he really couldn’t spare any time, he should at least have been direct about it rather than making such a lame excuse. By that time, I had already started to lose my patience and we just left the place, feeling quite annoyed. That meeting was totally a waste of time and my friend and I were totally infuriated as how the person reacted was quite unprofessional. There are many instances like that my fellow writer friends and I encounter. There are all kinds of people out there, some are not punctual at all, and some are irresponsible while some have no sense of respect for other people’s time. Actually, I’m a very patient and tolerant person. But dealing with unprofessional people is something that I can’t stand. It just gets on my nerves. But I did learn something that day. On a lighter note, I guess, we can’t do anything about people like that, and learning to deal with them is the only option. Follow @Nisthaz http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33881 The junction where the busy roads from Thapathali, Naya Baneshwor, and Singha Durbar converge – the monumental Maiti Ghar Mandala – stands testimony to the changes that the city has gone through in times. Previously, it was a grimy landmass of crammed houses surrounded by busy roads from all sides. In the stewardship of the last mayor of Kathmandu, the controversial Keshav Sthapit (1997-2002), the entire chunk was transformed into a vibrant square with a Mandala as its major attraction in 2002. [break]All it took to be done was less than seventy-two hours. But the same year, the then government led by Sher Bahadur Deuba dissolved the local elected bodies; their offices were replaced by government officials, and soon declared a state of emergency. As the nation dwindled in the transitional flux, ongoing for more than a decade now, the Maiti Ghar landmark that once stood as a symbol of stability has become a site of chaotic affair, from protests to demonstrations all year round, pushing it further into a state of despair. “I’ve had the experience of working as a government official for Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) with and without a mayor,” shares Rabin Man Shrestha, KMC’s Environment Management Division chief, as he wraps up the ongoing cleanup drive for the morning and leans on to the brick fences of the Mandala. “The biggest difference I’ve felt is the level of public participation and support.” Shrestha believes that mayors who come from among the people and are elected by the people are more familiar with them, the area, its culture, backgrounds, challenges and needs. So their plans are often easily accepted by the public. On the other hand, the executive officers and appointees who currently run the city are designated their positions and roles by the government and have to work according to set procedures that not only delay work but lack public backing as well. Mayorship, he says, has a certain “charm” because they have the authority to take strict and bold decisions and even development works are carried out faster. With everything under one person’s supervision, there will be no blame games between different departments and government stakeholders involved in any project. “We still have people who first go to their then local representatives for reference and only after that will come to government offices for any work,” says Shrestha. “Moreover, with government officers changed time and again, any development work is often in a limbo and takes much longer to complete.” Sthapit, the last mayor of Kathmandu, however, was widely acknowledged by people as one who got things done. No matter how hostile the situation got, he found a way to get things completed in time and with public favor. “The current local bodies have a temporary form and don’t think long term for future developments,” says Sthapit. “For an elected mayor, there is a sense of responsibility to the people reflected on their commitment to any work. But as bureaucrats, they can just do their job without actually working towards a vision, as they never know when they’ll be transferred or replaced.” Having earned the reputation of “demolition man” during his tenure, he says he still wishes to take on the mayoral role once again and start mashing the city, knead it like dough and give it all a new structure. And though Sthapit credits the current road widening drive as a good idea, he emphasizes that development does not have to mean displacement. To view our special contents click here “What’s happening now is that many people in the front row of the road are being displaced while the houses behind them will soon reap the benefits as their land prices will double,” he starts explaining, sketching roughly on a paper. “So, one turns into a beggar and other a millionaire overnight – that’s unfair. The government has to negotiate between these two parties in a way that both of them share benefits and carry on with the demolitions without any opposition.” But you would not see the prime minister out on the streets negotiating with the local people. Mayors would. They have done so in the past, getting personally involved with the local people at development sites. Traffic inspector Sita Ram Hachhethu also says that though government appointees are cooperative, the procedure of any development work takes a long time and the implementation isn’t guaranteed. He recalls how the Kathmandu traffic police themselves decided and went forward on the demolition drive of some green islands and bus stops constructed in the middle of roads, like in Shahid Gate, for better traffic flow and to reduce chances of accidents. “Without a locally elected authority, though things have progressed, it’s at a very slow pace,” says Hachhethu. “The road widening drive is considerable but there’s a lot to work on, including basic things like installing traffic lights at major junctions. The technology has advanced so much but our traffic police are still stuck to standing on their posts and waving hands.” Development issues are many, admits Kedar Bahadur Adhikari, KMC’s executive chief. However, be it for locally elected representatives or government bureaucrats, the major factor in carrying out developmental works and good city governance, besides economics, is public support. “Even though the overall vision is the same, for locally elected mayors the acceptance level by public is higher, and there’s more discipline,” says Adhikari. “Moreover, they can work without any pressure or political interference from the government. With government appointees, the other problem is that they tend to be more accountable to the political parties than the organizations.” Civil society leader Padma Ratna Tuladhar argues that local governments with locally elected representatives are more significant as they don’t just manage infrastructural issues from solid waste management to building urban amenities but also acknowledge the local culture and identity. And such local authorities who come from amongst the people and understand the local sentiments are better able to relate with the people to ensure good governance. “The city is at its threshold point with a fast growing population, haphazard construction, pollution, increased number of vehicles and the incapability to provide even basic necessities like water and electricity,” says Tuladhar. “So limits have to be set, policies formed and implemented, subsidies granted to control the chaos and strict decisions must be made. But it cannot be done without public support, and local government will be the key to carry out the plans.” As the nation awaits the Constitution, expecting it to clear out how the government bodies will proceed further, Tuladhar says even these waiting moments are already too crucial. “The Interim Constitution has guaranteed an interim government at the central level for more than a decade now. But the local governments, which directly influence people’s daily lives, are still vacant of people’s representatives,” says Tuladhar. “So even if it’s six months or a year to go for next local elections, we need to have at least a publicly nominated mayor and local government board.” In a nutshell, without a mayor, people’s representatives and local government bodies, Nepali citizens have been and will remain deprived of democracy at the grassroots level. And that’s no democracy at all. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33880 In his wish list are open public spaces in metropolitan Kathmandu, which in addition to its aesthetic outlook, must offer room to breathe. His things-to-do include the city’s dreams of a pedestrian-friendly road, projects that improve the quality of life and enhance economic development and safeguard the Kathmandu Valley’s cultural heritage sites, among many other things. Two decades in the service, senior planner Devendra Dongol, chief of the Department of Urban Development at Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC), is a witness to the urban sprawls that have shaped Kathmandu. [break]His know-how, visions and dreams are matched by an equal force of haphazard constructions, budgetary constraints and improper coordination with stakeholders. The Week’s Nistha Rayamajhi met Dongol to talk about his current plans and what impedes them, and the way ahead. Excerpts from the conversation: What are the current challenges of pursuing your projects and plans so far? Unplanned growth of private houses on small plots has mushroomed in the absence of proper policies that restrict such practice. We need to implement better housing policies for a sustainable urban development. Land is scarce in Kathmandu and a policy should come into place to benefit with optimum results. One instance is to introduce affordable apartments for the lower and middle class people. This will be an inexpensive alternative and discourage them to build houses. We should encourage vertical buildings rather than horizontal growth. Constraints to achieving this are lack of qualified human resource and limited funding. An important project would incur some 250 million Rupees while KMC can’t even afford 50 million. How will these challenges be addressed then? The Kathmandu Valley comprises municipalities, Village Development Committees and government ministries. KMC has no say beyond the metropolitan city area, and even activities within the core city area are managed by government bodies. Without their support, taking up huge projects is unthinkable, and lack of coordination with various authorities and budget constraints impede our plans. We need to work on this. How do you imagine Kathmandu? The chaotic concrete jungle that Kathmandu is has left us with scarce open spaces. Urban redevelopment projects needs to be introduced ASAP, plus building codes should be reinforced strictly. One project that I’ve been working on is revamping the narrow lanes and old buildings on the Sohra Khutte to Jaisi Deval route. In case of an earthquake or fire, the locales would face disastrous consequences. A fire brigade can’t even pass through the area. The idea here is to renovate the old structures by maintaining the traditional façade and widen the lanes. It can be a prototype community that could be replicated in other areas. The traditional courtyard system also needs to breathe new life. There’s some sense as to why it’s there in the first place. What can communities do to support the projects? Without community support, urban redevelopment is unthinkable as they have direct roles to play in all the projects initiated by KMC. Our current projects have received positive feedback from the communities so far and our concepts have been convincing. We should learn from cities which have successfully preserved their historical and cultural façades and observe that they were possible only with the support of the communities concerned. Can you tell us of some successful projects that you’ve been part of? The Gongabu Bus Terminal or the New Bus Park, as it is popularly known, was a project we initiated 18 years back. It is one of KMC’s productive projects. Back in those days, we only had Ratna Park Bus Terminal which was the base for core-city travel and Purano Bus Park that catered to routes beyond the city. Congestion then became a big issue. Pollution too! Even pedestrians struggled on the sidewalks. It was then that I proposed what is now the New Bus Park, and with its operation, traffic volume then decreased by 60% in the core of the city. The Bishnumati River Corridor is another project that I initiated four years ago. The newly built roads have opened up new access routes to people, thus lessening traffic congestion. The roads have even improved the local surroundings and have also contributed to the socio-economic development of the residents. What are your current plans? The second phase of the Bishumati River Corridor is now underway. It’ll improve the four junctions at Teku, Paropokar, Dallu, and Sohra Khutte. Our consultants are developing the blueprint at the moment. Sohra Khutte will see a new traffic island, and a bridge will be constructed at Dallu. Another project that we are taking up soon is to restrict vehicles in the Thamel area and build stone-paved roads in core city areas. Constructing underground parking lots in city areas and renovating and expanding the existing parking lots at Ratna Park and Lainchour are also in the pipeline. The largest underground parking will span from Mahankal Mandir to Shahid Gate, covering an area of 10,500 sq. meters. There will also be a big parking lot at the premises of Social Welfare Council in Lainchour. Solar street lighting will see its first introduction in a small scale from the Hanuman Dhoka area. KMC’s biggest ambition, however, will be to replicate these ideas on a large scale in other areas of the city. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33876 It’s been two weeks since Biniti Tuladhar, 24, has been sporting an ankle brace. She suffered a nasty slip while strolling around in Kupondole happily shopping for her upcoming wedding. The fall resulted in a sprain that now requires her to strap on a support just to be able to walk a little less painlessly. In a congested city like Kathmandu, it’s difficult to walk on the footpaths. It’s either occupied by construction materials and garbage or encroached by street vendors, if not dug up for other purposes. [break]That aside, the state of many pavements has deteriorated over time, making the simple act of walking a task requiring navigational skills. A stroll around Kathmandu will reveal a wide variety of pavements. From the tiny narrow ones in New Road, to the bumpy ones in Kupondole to the wide spacious ones in Singha Durbar and the dusty ones in Bag Bazaar, the city has it all. Devendra Karki, Regional Director at the Department of Roads, attributes this to the fact that construction of pavements and sidewalks has not been looked into by the same department. The work has been divided among the municipality, the government, private agencies, and the Department of Roads. He mentions that there is a lack in the uniformity of design because of this very fact. “Sidewalks have been constructed as per need and without proper study which is why the design and organization seems to be haphazard. In some places, locals have decided to construct sidewalks on their own after the municipality refused to allocate budget citing lack of funds,” he says. The minimum width for a standard pavement is 1.7 meters but there are pavements measuring less than that in many places throughout the Valley. Bhai Kaji Tiwari, Chief Urban Planner of the Kathmandu Valley Town Development Committee, blames the residents for encroaching on land while making homes, which has made the job of building sidewalks of the required standard an unattainable task. (As for examples of other mindless encroachment, note the entrance to the Bank of Asia at Tripureshwor and the gate to a private house near Tukucha, opposite Bluebird Mall.) “In areas like Baluwatar and Bhat Bhateni, we couldn’t build pavements of the required width because there’s no space. We couldn’t take up space from the road so that left no land to build pavements on,” clarifies an enraged Tiwari. “The public is so quick to pin the blame on the government but fails to acknowledge the repercussions of their own actions.” Tiwari is of the belief that proper pavements for pedestrians can be attained only by the combined efforts of the public and the government alike. KESHAB THOKER Sanjay Raj Upadhaya, department chief at the Department of Physical Planning and Works, agrees with Karki on his statement that the pavements have no uniformity and adds that they don’t meet the set standards. He expresses his disapproval of the demolition of sidewalks in the current road widening campaign but is quick to add that the campaign has been first and foremost initiated with the aim of easing traffic congestion and whether or not footpaths will be constructed in certain roads is yet to be seen. Upadhaya does his best to explain why this is the case. According to him, the minimum required width of a one-lane street is 3.5 meters. If that standard were to be followed, the average width of a two-lane street is supposed to be seven meters. The roads in Kathmandu measure approximately six meters, a meter less than required. Such roads are in the process of being reconstructed. If standard pavements are built on either side of these roads, then the problem of traffic, which the road widening campaign aims at solving, will remain the same. Karki, on the other hand, firmly believes that safer footpath is the right of every pedestrian and ensuring pedestrian safety should also be one of the focuses of the government even during this campaign. COURTESY: ARJUN SHAH “We have to maintain footpaths and reconstruct those that have been demolished. We need to come up with an integrated framework regarding pedestrian facilities,” says Karki, reiterating that sidewalks can’t be neglected while building wider roads. In Kathmandu, a large percentage of the population prefers to walk, according to a 2010/11 study carried out by Clean Air Network Nepal. Almost 20 percent of the daily trips are made entirely on foot. This shows the importance of good pavements, keeping in mind the convenience of the commuters. Walking on good pavements is a pleasurable experience, shares Prapti Basnet, a resident of New Baneshwor, who finds walking along the stretch of Maiti Ghar a great stress buster as well as an inexpensive way to workout. “The footpath in this area is brilliantly paved and smooth. I like walking around soaking in the hustle bustle of daily life,” says Basnet. “But not many people walk on these pavements, which I feel is the reason why they are still in good condition unlike the heavily used pavements in certain areas of the Valley.” The uneven and rugged pavements around Lainchour and Nag Pokhari validate Basnet’s statement. Lainchour has the highest flow of pedestrians while Nag Pokhari comes in second with approximately 900 people per hour, according to a survey done by Clean Air Network Nepal. Also the sidewalk demolition drive of the Metropolitan Traffic Police Division in different locations for the road widening campaign has left many pavements, including those in Lainchour and Nag Pokhari, in ruins and awaiting reconstruction. This has made commuting extremely difficult for those who walk along those stretches of roads on a daily basis. The pedestrians have over time expressed their discontent and rage over the footpath destruction. Prenit Gurung, a resident of Lainchaur, hopes the government will not ignore the needs of pedestrians like him who walk to and from work on daily basis. He is both saddened and angered by the current demolition but also adds that bad sidewalks are better than no sidewalks. “The pavements were uneven and in some places muddy and dusty. At least, they are gone now and finally I won’t trip and hurt myself. It had become a daily ritual, so much so that if I didn’t fall one day I’d think something was missing,” laughs Gurung. “Now I just hope the government builds better sidewalks,” he adds, echoing the voices of many like him. Good sidewalk construction needs proper framework, concrete placement, finishing and curing. The framework should be strong and straight and the concrete needs to be leveled. Curing is the final and the most crucial step in sidewalk construction that ensures protection against damages. Sidewalk construction is a relatively simple process but the heat expansion and soil movement eventually cause it to crack, resulting in uneven surfaces, making it hazardous to falls and trips. The average life of a sidewalk is 20-40 years, but problems can occur as early as within one to five years after construction, depending on the quality of materials and use of the sidewalk. Tiwari shares that it is the management of pavements rather than building new ones that holds the key to making the city friendly for walkers. Proper and timely maintenance of sidewalks will keep them in good condition and he assures that his department is looking into it. On the other hand, he is also set on his mission of constructing new high quality pavements within the Valley. He ensures that the construction will be handled by experts and the result will be a walk-able Kathmandu. “I know that in a city like ours, walking is the easiest mode of transport. But for that, the pavements need to be good. We realize that and are working to it, be it by constructing new ones or maintaining the ones we already have. Soon, the Valley will witness better pavements, and walking in and around in the city will be a pleasure.” This assurance indeed comes as a relief to Tuladhar, and she beams as she says that she will stop accusing the city and its officials now and look forward to a better Kathmandu, hoping by that time her swollen ankle is back in shape and she can enjoy a lazy stroll along the city without a care in the world. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33875 An old traditional Newar house in the Kathmandu Valley and outside can charm any onlooker and inspire him to admire its beauty. The native designs, decorative frameworks and beautifully carved wooden artworks have attracted many for decades. These old structures have long been carrying the historical importance and functioning as masterpieces of embellishment for visitors. But rarely appreciated is the splendor of traditional architecture by the homeowners themselves. A house is a home, a hearth, a shelter, a sanctuary and also an identity. Many Nepalis have now started to incorporate the “identity” in their newly built houses, as they add a carved window or a pillar in between the concrete structures. [break]The traditional architecture, however, not only carries artistic values but possesses the essentials of a well-built residence as well. It has evolved through necessity and learning through time to tailor the needs of the natives. “The aesthetic beauty is not only what the old architecture covers,” says Rabindra Puri, the celebrity restorer of Namuna Ghar, the traditional model house in Bhaktapur. Highlighting the importance of the load-bearing design, he adds that the traditional houses built from mud mortar are more flexible than concrete houses, making them more earthquake resistant. Dr. Rohit Ranjitkar, Nepal Program Director of Kathmandu Valley Preservation Trust, opines a similar idea. “The thickness of the walls can endure considerable movement during quakes.” He adds that with the usage of flexible elements such as wood and mud, even when the house collapses, there are fewer chances of the joists, the wooden block support on the ceilings in traditional Newar houses, falling flat. The blocks would instead tilt and create a triangular space and thus prevent human casualties. In opposition to the general belief that houses built on traditional Newar architecture are weak and are unsafe to live in, Puri, who has accomplished over 40 renovation projects so far, emphasizes that they are built with the wellbeing of its residents as its major consideration. He credits the interlocking building system for the strength of those houses. “From the foundation to the top, the components of the old buildings have compact knitting.” The foundation of the house is supported by stones, which are intertwined in the corners. The firm base guarantees the strength of the structure built over it. The walls are then built with the composition of bricks, mud and wood, knitted under a thick structure that can measure up to 36 inches. The thickness of the walls is reduced slightly with every ascending floor. Dr. Ranjitkar emphasizes that this structural aspect in traditional Newar architecture further assures the firmness of the house. The tapering design makes the whole structure strong. Even the windows and doors are not separate frame structures but they have a strong interlocking lintel within the components of the wall. Those interlocking prevent the frames from easily falling apart from its place. The joists that support the ceilings and roofs, too, are linked through the walls, and in addition, are held by a beam support at both ends. Dr. Ranjitkar believes that the old structures are sturdy due also to the system of building houses forming a courtyard. “The continuation of the parallel interlocking in the adjacent houses provides them with support that can resist any jolt.” Apart from the flexibility, the old houses are also durable, say both the experts. “Scientists have said that the life of concrete is 100 years but the houses built with mud mortars last longer, but they need proper maintenance,” says Dr. Ranjitkar. “The model house in Bhaktapur is believed to be older than 150 years and still serves as a good residence, which is not possible with cement. Moreover, in western countries, a cement building that has passed its age limit is demolished,” adds Puri. In comparison, even while disposing, the components of traditionally built Kathmandu Valley houses are reusable. According to Puri, they are not just reusable but valuable too. “The bricks and wood used in those houses are stronger. The raw bricks are made of soil that was not polluted, as it is now, while the wood from Sal tree (Sorea Robusta) is more of a luxury nowadays.” Though their beauty entices people towards traditional houses, they normally shy away from the challenges of maintaining it. But Dr. Ranjitkar, who has been restoring old architecture for 12 years, says that the strength of these timeless beauties is that its components can be easily replaced. On the other hand, Puri argues that concrete houses will also demand maintenance after a decade or two. “But that will be more tedious and expensive than maintaining houses built in traditional architecture,” he claims. It took him a year and a half to restore Namuna Ghar, which was earlier a poultry farm, and cost him Rs 1.4 million at around Rs 600 per square foot. But from his experience, he says that a normal residence in need of basic maintenance will take three to six months and cost Rs 500 to 1,000 per square foot. For building a new house in traditional architecture, he estimates the cost to be around Rs 2,000 to 2,200 per square foot. Adding to the artistic values, lesser costs and the strength of traditional houses, their environment-friendly aspect is yet another advantage. The thick walls built from mud mortar works as insulation against outside weather, explains Puri. “The walls don’t produce any unnatural heat or cold, like concrete walls do,” he adds. “Therefore, traditional Nepali houses are warm during winter and cool in summer.” According to him, modern architecture has been borrowed from the West without any research on the compatibility of its designs in a city like ours. “I had the opportunity to scan through the houses built in traditional architecture from the 13th to the 20th century in Panauti and it’s seen that the building techniques has strengthened through time,” he says. Building a house is a one-time thing and a lifetime investment for many. However, building a house in traditional architecture can turn out to be something more than individual investment and one for generations to come. The centuries-old houses that still stand strong are the instances of this very grandeur. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33874 We’re in the hypothetical Kathmandu of Dipesh Khanal, a seventh semester electrical engineering student and secretary of the Robotics Club at Kathmandu Engineering College. A large, supposedly dead, cow or buffalo or dog, floats on the Bagmati and lodges on a jutting edge. Policing the entire curvature of the river’s banks is a squad of giant robots – “how long is the Bagmati anyway? [break]It’s just from here to there.” Of course not the automated humanoids like Wall-E – “if we used such advanced robots, we would be in Japan” – these are more like bulldozers with pea brains, manually maneuvered by a human seated in front of the robo-saurus’s control board. With the turn of a key, the robot lowers and extends its projecting blade, then lifts the carcass of solid organic waste to collect for fertilizer production. The non-degradable waste is taken elsewhere for disposal. In a day, four humans work six-hour shifts for one robot to labor indefinitely, and within a few months, Kathmandu’s riverfront is cleared. “It’s not a big deal.” Manmade robots In conceiving of a hypothetical Kathmandu, Dipesh makes solving problems like waste management seem so simple. Given the necessary investment, Dipesh feels that robotics can be of great assistance to humans and that robotics students in Nepal are capable of bringing this to fruition. Robots can be designed to have superhuman levels of endurance, strength, and sensory abilities. Consider the alternative: “five to six people would need to be employed just to lift one cow, working for a minimum two to three hours. And human laborers get tired; they need to rest, which holds up work,” says Dipesh. Plus, robots would not be disgusted by the smell. We can disregard his inaccuracies – the rarity of finding organic waste in as coherent a form as dead bovine – and his requirements – at least five crores of Rupees per robot. What he factors out – that separating organics from inorganic is a dexterous task – and his underlying assumptions – continuous electrical supply. But to actually believe that Dipesh’s hypothetical scenario is a future reality requires a leap of faith that goes beyond technical and financial capacity and ricochets back to human will. His imagined Kathmandu is therefore not revealing in what it shows robots can do that humans can’t, but in what it shows robots can do that humans aren’t. This point was a major motivation for the Robotics Club of Tribhuvan University, Institute of Engineering, Pulchowk Campus, in designating the theme of this year’s Robocup 2069 competition – “Clean Bagmati, Green Kathmandu,” on which Dipesh’s sketch is based. “Garbage is growing, and all kinds of projects are coming to Bagmati, but still people aren’t aware,” says Abhishek Karna, a club member who through engineering hopes to evoke the question: “Why don’t humans do what even a robot can?” Lift and move Aside the theme, competitions like Robocup 2069 are ultimately about developing technical skills and galvanizing innovation to serve human needs – more so the former than the latter in countries like Nepal where robotics is still in its formative stages. Currently, it’s National Robotics Week in the United States. The Pentagon has recently announced a competition for robots specialized to work in high-risk areas, and Iran just held its seventh annual robot football competition. And on Saturday, May 19, an estimated 17 of the almost 30 engineering colleges across Nepal will face off in a league-style robotics competition, before an audience of over 6,000 in the Dashrath Stadium. Each team will design a manual and an automated robot that can symbolically separate waste, make manure and plant trees. The challenge for each team will be in completing all the set tasks within a window of three minutes, without losing control of their robots or violating the size and weight requirements. Most of the student’s creative energies will go into programming and identifying suitable materials to build the robot, with little room for cool Inspector Gadget-style gimmicks. Risking loss, and with it their college’s financial support for future competitions, students sometimes sleep at their clubs for days prior to the big day. To win is reputation and a cash prize. It will be a few years before Nepali robots start cart-wheeling, high-jumping, or simulating emotions like their foreign creations – at Robocup 2069, they will simply be lifting and moving. But one must really appreciate the efforts of students in nourishing robotics in Nepal, says Ramesh Chaudhary, Professor at Pulchowk Campus, who as a student two decades ago developed the first known robot in Nepal. Since the days of mechanical engineering, explains Ramesh, “the introduction of electronics and computer programming has really improved the flexibility of robotics in Nepal.” But academic-industrial lin-kages are weak in the country, and the seminal enthusiasm of engineering students has not yet translated into practical scientific application. According to Abhishek, “visible events like Robocup 2069 really raise the status of robotics. Every year we increase the level – we hope to solve problems but also raise the thinking capacity of students. It’ll take time for us to reach a certain standard but we have already seen a lot of improvements.” After the competition, trophy and non-trophy robots will be dismantled. The various parts will be reused for future contests, with the hopes that some reincarnate may find life beyond its three minutes of fame. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33640 It is five minutes to noon on Rukman Pariyar’s watch but the clock in Mental Hospital, Lagankhel, has outrun him by those five crucial minutes. As the general Outpatient Department (OPD) counter closes, the 61-year-old casts an anxious glance at his 25-year-old son staring blankly at the ground seemingly unaware of the fraught situation. Pariyar’s nervous hands clench in on the pink hospital card as a look of despair settles on his wrinkled face.[break] “My son has been suffering from psychosis due to which he doesn’t respond well and either stays lost in his thoughts or goes around speaking senseless things. I hurried here with a hope that poor and needy people like us would get free checkup and medicine at minimum costs,” says Pariyar who arrived with his son from Sindhuli about a month back. “I needed to get my son’s medicine and leave for my village tomorrow but I might have to wait two more days for his turn of checkup.” As Pariyar calculates the cost of extended paying OPD service for which he would have to pay Rs 250 besides the medicine cost and his traveling expenses, he shakes his head and decides to request some people he knows in the city to let them stay the extra two days. “My son had his initial checkup here but because the hospital beds were full at the time, we had to take him to Kathmandu Medical Hospital in Sinamangal and we’ve spent all we had. He’s still not fully recovered from his illness but we can no longer afford to stay here,” says Pariyar. He decides to give it another shot at the OPD department where checkups are still going on. Distracted by a woman sobbing in a corner of the dark hallway, he pauses and frets for a moment. He then goes on pleading in his subdued voice from one desk to another, only to be scoffed at and asked to leave. Back in the compound again, he stands squirming; chewing the inside of his cheeks as his droopy eyes start glistening. “I guess I’ll just come back the day after,” he whispers to himself and slowly walks away, guiding his son by the hand. Over at the pharmacy counter, people line up to get medicines but one after another, many return empty-handed. “The stock of medicine is very limited here,” says Mani Raj Shrestha, the in-house pharmacist, “The amount of medicines we get yearly, if properly distributed, will not even last three months.” Past the second gate, as you enter the hospital lawn, many patients and their family members and caretakers are seen scattered around. While some wander around aimlessly, some lay stretched sunbathing and some engrossed in their conversations. At a corner, Punya Ram Shilpakar and Hari Bhatta sit beside each other talking softly. One – a patient and another – caretaker, they have become close acquaintances and share a hospital cabin. “My son has been here for a week receiving his treatment for depression,” says Bhatta, “But the state of hygiene here makes me worry about his health and mine.” He shares that most of the toilets near the wards in the hospital don’t have water and proper doors, letting off an awful stench all day long. For many patients and the caretakers who come from villages all over Nepal and have to stay there for a long period of time, taking baths and washing clothes also become a grave challenge due to the acute shortage of water. A look around the hospital building and you’ll immediately notice that most of the windows are broken. The glass has been replaced by flimsy plastic materials that would give away to the slightest of windy weather. Jagat Shrestha, from Dolakha, whose 17-year-old daughter Swostika Shrestha has been in the hospital for a month undergoing treatment for her manic episode, shares, “I came here to visit my daughter and my wife who’s staying here as her caretaker. It’s depressing to see that even my wife looks like she’ll need treatment after staying here so long.” His wife Dhan Kumari Shrestha sitting beside her feverish sleeping daughter, however, says with a sigh, “It’s definitely difficult to stay here but I’m fine. I need my daughter to get well and she’s recovering slowly, I think.” With a daily inflow of more than 200 patients, the hospital in Lagankhel is Nepal’s only public mental health facility. This is where most people from far off villages travel for days with their disturbed loved ones suffering from mental illnesses in hopes that they will be cured and will be able to return to normal. But the lack of proper infrastructure, adequate medical and counseling services often leave them disheartened. Dr Surendra Sherchan, the hospital director, shares that the hospital has faced several challenges throughout its history. “Firstly, mental health has never received as much priority for the possible reason that morbidity from mental diseases isn’t as much as in other diseases,” says Sherchan. “The budget allocated for mental health is less than 1 percent of the total health budget and so the hospital also has to function with very limited resources.” With an annual budget of Rs 16 million Sherchan says more than 90 % is spent on administrative costs that include salaries and infrastructure maintenance while 5 percent is allocated for medicines. Hospital staffs complain that due to inadequate manpower – both technical and administrative – the facility has not been able to run smoothly. There is only one shift of general OPD and no emergency care, so most patients have no option than to have themselves checked at the paying OPD which runs like a private clinic in a government hospital, they say. There is no reception or inquiry area, lab assistants are being engaged in the ticket counters, many of the tenders for medicines are not followed up on. So most of the times the hospital does not have the full stock of medicines that should be in its quota, which is already too insufficient in itself. “If anything goes wrong, like a patient slips or runs away from the hospital, it’s all blamed on the guards or the peons or the nursing staff, but with the number of people here, it’s impossible to handle all the patients properly,” says a hospital staff who didn’t want to be named. Sherchan too admits that weak infrastructure and lack on manpower has been a major challenge at the hospital but he says he says there’s not much he can do with the limited budget. He emphasizes that over the years the situation has improved for people to at least acknowledge their mental illnesses and come out despite the taboos and stigmas. They have extended services such as Hotline telephone services, oral substitution therapy for drug and alcohol abuse and community mental health programs. Despite the government’s lack of interest in the sector, mental health workers have been constantly pushing for the Nepal Mental Health policy and its implementation to guarantee primary mental health facilities to all and fight for the unvoiced rights of mental-health patients. “For a public hospital as this, it’s always hard to attract and retain technical staff who are always looking for better opportunities. Moreover, the mental health field in our country is already too limited, with less than 60 psychiatrists, a handful of psychologists or counselors and no social workers nationwide,” says Sherchan. “Besides, due to the taboos associated with mental health, there aren’t many people who want to work in this field.” According to various researches, at any given time, 10 to 15 percent of the total population will have mental problems; in the developing countries, the percentage often reaches 25 percent. According to the 2006 WHO data, Nepal has only 18 hospitals that treat mental illnesses. The number of medical practitioners at these facilities stands at 51 psychiatric doctors, 11 psychologists and 48 nurses and almost 75 percent of the services being Kathmandu-centric, this leaves a huge treatment gap in the country. Dr Saroj Prasad Ojha, Associate Professor at Tribhuvan University Teaching Hospital (TUTH), says that many times mental problems in Nepal are often under-diagnosed. Due to the misconception that mental illness is all about what we call “insanity” in general terms, people don’t realize the gravity of the situation. “Even medical staff and doctors within the hospital are still ignorant that mental health consist of a lot more than cases of insanity,” Ojha says. “Our studies have shown 20 percent of patients who come in for general checkup in the hospital have psychiatric problems.” He says that out of 60 patients that the psychiatry department at the hospital receives everyday, almost 80 percent suffer from different forms of depression and anxiety disorders and only the rest will have severe psychosis diseases like schizophrenia, bipolar disorders which too can be cured with proper medication and treatments. “Mental illnesses are also like any other body disease – either caused by chemical disturbance or outer environmental factors. Say you have a fracture. If you leave it untreated, it will remain broken and get worse but proper treatment can fix it. It’s the same with mental illnesses,” says Ojha. Reports of mental patients being neglected in confinement due to lack of treatment or social taboo and mentally ill people cast out from their family and society roaming around the city in pitiable conditions are common sights every person has seen or heard about. Many mental patients are also in jail or asylums that keep them confined due to their violent and impulsive actions as a result of their illness. “You can see there are people receiving treatment for severe mental problems like schizophrenia and together with patients suffering from less severe diseases, and with proper care, they can be normal,” says Ojha. “But if you leave them untreated for a long time, they can develop chronic illnesses like you see in the patients living in jails or confinements and there’s less point of return.” Early diagnosis therefore becomes crucial, experts say. But because of the social taboo associated with mental diseases, lack of awareness and health professional and the treatment gap, many of the mental health cases remain ignored. Dr Bal Krishna Subedi, spokesperson at the Ministry of Health and Population (MoHP), shares that the Nepal Health Sector Program Implementation Plan II 2010-2015 does put a greater emphasis on mental health, and the government is trying to tackle the situation with expansive coverage from the grassroots level. “We are focusing on the preventive aspect and integrating mental health in primary healthcare,” says Subedi. “The plan is still in its initial phase. It will focus on training health workers in primary healthcare centers in pilot districts on the basis of mental health so that there can be correct diagnosis, treatment, counseling and referrals to specialists.” But Jagannath Lamichhane, mental health rights activist, feels that even at policy level a lot has to be done to ensure not just proper treatment and facilities for mental health patients but to ensure protection against human rights violations as well. He adds that mental health issues have to come out from just the medical framework into a broader social framework due to its crosscutting nature. “Increasing suicide rate and violence due to frustrations are also indicators of mental problems in people,” says Lamichhane, “So mental health has to be integrated in not just the Health Ministry programs but in gender-based programs, economic welfare programs and other sectors as well.” For people like Pariyar and his son who desperately cling on to the hopes of having a normal life again, lack of and inaccessibility to primary mental health facilities pose as grave obstacles. Disregarding the mental health issues despite the knowledge that it is omnipresent in every society and will only worsen if not addressed earlier would stub out the prospects of a healthy society. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33639 London, March 18- It is seven in the morning at Woolwich Park in southeast London where some elderly Nepalis, with their signature Nepali Dhaka topis on their heads, are talking. The wide-screen television in the middle of the park has the London Olympics Games flashes running. But the government television rarely catches the eyes of Karna Bahadur Pun. The 71-year-old from Devisthan in Myagdi is busy chatting with his friend Rup Singh Gurung who is from Pokhara in Kaski.[break] For Pun and Gurung, who came to London a year and half ago under the provisions of residency for former British Gurkha soldiers and for many former Gurkhas like them living in the Woolwich and Plumstead areas, the park is where their day starts and where most of their time is spent. Tritha Kumari Gurung at Woolwich Park “This park has become like a village chautari (meeting point) for us,” shares Gurung. “Staying in the room the whole day gets tedious. So we come here and share our happiness and sorrows with each other.” After the British Government approved permanent residency or Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR) to former soldiers of the British Brigade of Gurkhas, nearly 700 former Gurkhas, most of who are above 60 years of age, have settled in the Woolwich and Plumstead areas, among other places. “This part mostly has our kin (“dauntari”), Pun says. The former Gurkhas who joined the British Army at their tender age and earned recognition as Bir Gorkhali (Brave Gurkhas) are currently passing their last days in Britain since the government policy changed and approved to give them ILR. “I joined the British Army when I was 18 and returned to Nepal after 15 years of active service,” recalls Gurung. “Then three decades later, I had to come back here again.” Unfamiliar language, culture and being away from friends and families left behind in Nepal, most of the aging former Gurkhas are not happy with their life in Britain. “Back in our villages, we lived respectful life for having served as brave Gurkha soldiers. Here, we don’t even understand the language, and the culture is so different,” shares Gurung. “If the pension we get by being here were given in Nepal, we would immediately return to our own country.” The British Government gives a grant of 500 to 1,000 Pounds per month to a former Gurkha for rent and food according to his former position in the army, his service duration and type of pension. The amount is four times less than the minimum income index set by the British Government, and the law comes into effect from today. Rup Singh Gurung The former Gurkhas say that because Britain has not provided them with enough allowances, life has become more difficult. “If the room rent is 350 Pounds, they sanction only 250,” says Pun. “As they cut down on even basic expenditures, we’re forced to live a very low-cost and low-quality life.” The negligible monthly allowance paired with language problem has made their life in the United Kingdom very hard. According to the Gurkha Ex-Army Servicemen’s Organisation’s (GAESO) records, after the British government introduced the permanent residency policy, 10,000 former Gurkha soldiers have settled in Britain. The policy allows ex-Gurkha soldiers, their spouses and children below 18 years of age to settle in Britain. But most former Gurkhas who live in London have crossed 50 years of age. In addition, due to their inability to speak and understand English, they have problems even while shopping for daily necessities. “We weren’t taught English when we were in army, only Roman Nepali,” Gurung says. “Now, because of the language barrier, it’s hard to purchase stuffs despite having money.” Tirtha Kumari Gurung, formerly of Sardi Khola in Kaski, also says that she does not enjoy her life here at all. “We spent so much to come here, thinking this place would be amazing,” she says. “But I’m fed up with this place already.” She too says that she would return home if the amount they got in Britain was given to them in Nepal instead. “Neither do you understand anything they say here nor do you get to meet your kins here,” she says with a sad face. Most Gurkhas who came to Britain as ex-servicemen have settled in Woolwich, Aldershot, and Plumstead. Prem Bahadur Gurung The language problem is most serious when they fall ill, they say. They get free health checkups from the National Health Service (NHS) like all British citizens. But because there are no translators at the NHS, most say they have not had proper health checkups. “People from other nations who’ve come to England under similar provision like ours have their own translators at the NHS,” says Prem Bahadur Gurung, another former Gurkha living in Plumstead. “Because Nepalis don’t have that facility and most don’t speak English, it’s been a problem during treatment.” He adds that many go to Nepal if they get sick. Besides their inability to communicate their health problems to the physicians, they are also troubled due to the slow procedure during NHS health checkups. “It takes at least a week to get treatment at the NHS,” says Prem Bahadur. “A week is a long time for an ill patient. But if you pay money and shift to the paying section, then the treatment, it seems, is done more quickly.” To control the number of immigrants, Britain’s new policy that comes into effect from today will terminate the visa of immigrants who have had annual income of less than 35,000 Pounds and deport them back to their country. The policy will take its toll on many Nepali students, workers and businessmen staying in Britain with temporary work permits under Tier II. However, though the policy will not affect former Gurkha soldiers, they will have to live with much less allowances than the government’s stated minimum earning benchmark. The British Government has been providing the Gurkhas an allowance of 6,000 to 10,000 Pounds annually which, however, is four times less than the annual income considered the threshold point in Britain. Immigrant policy was made stricter since the Conservative Party’s David Cameron-led government came to power in 2010. Prime Minister Cameron has already announced that only those who have an annual income more than 35,000 Pounds can reside permanently through British work permit visa. On their part, the former Gurkha army servicemen have filed a case in the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) in Geneva demanding equal pension at par with British soldiers. They also demand permit to bring their children along with them during their residency in Britain. “We were once ready to sacrifice our lives under the British flag,” says Prem Bahadur. “So we should have equal facilities and services. We shouldn’t be separated from our children and should have the right to live together.” Karna Bahadur Pun No proper provisions for British Gurkha funerals In case of deaths in the former Gurkha soldiers’ community, they are faced with a big problem as to where they can perform funeral rites. Last March, when Puni Maya Pun, formerly of Banskharka in Myagdi, passed away, her kith and kin had to wait for two days for her funeral. Finally, they took her body to a place 100km from Woolwich, to conduct her last rites. “The funeral got delayed while looking for a cremation ground,” says Karna Bahadur. “Moreover; it also took time to collect enough money for the funeral.” In Britain, there is a strict code for carrying and managing the dead. According to the standards set by the government, funeral and cremation are very expensive. But because the government does not provide extra money for funerals, most face financial problems for the deceased’s last rites. “It cost us 2,000 Pounds to carry out the funeral of Puni Maya,” says Karna Bahadur. “Only after collecting donation from 300 people we could manage her funeral.” Pariyar is an award winning investigative journalist. He is currently a senior correspondent at Nagarik daily. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33638 At a time when representatives of the world’s mountainous countries were gathered in Kathmandu to discuss the issues of climate change, the city’s skies suddenly turned dark last Tuesday afternoon. Though weather fluctuations are common during pre-rainy months, these kinds of seasonal changes are quite rare in Nepal.[break] The increase in temperature before the rainy season heats up the land and causes evaporation, resulting in formation of thick clouds. The gloomy sight that was created with addition to the pollution from neighboring countries can be an eye-opener for the experts gathered for the conference. Nepal has the least volume of carbon emission compared to other countries but its citizens have been affected by pollution from its neighbors. During winters, Nepal suffers from fog for a long time due to industrial pollution in India. The black clouds affect Nepal badly before the rainy season while during monsoons the lands near the border areas are inundated by overflows from dams in India. According to senior climate expert Shiva Nepal, the formation of clouds due to evaporation and trans-boundary pollution was the reason for such darkening during the said afternoon. March and April are hazy and dry by nature which increases the risks for forest fires. The normal visibility in Kathmandu is 10,000 meters but it was reduced to a mere 3,000 meters on Tuesday, April 3. The evaporation due to heat during this season is called induced convecting by experts. During this season, there is westerly wind effect on the upper layer of the atmosphere, but even then the environment at ground level gets hazy because of winds blowing from all directions. “To change this climate, it has to either rain or has to be extremely windy. But at the moment, both these processes are not taking place. As a result, the sky darkens and the temperature increases,” says Nepal. The dust from deserts in India and its industrial pollution affects Nepal the most. Last winter, 25 people had to lose their lives due to thick fog in Terai. This has been a regular phenomenon for the last two decades in the region. Though fog during winter is common, industrial pollution increases fog intensity, says Mani Ratna Shakya, Deputy Director at the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. India likes its position as the big brother among SAARC countries. But during the climate convention which was attended by representatives from 26 countries and ministers from 10 countries, India showed its negligence on climate issues by sending only an under-secretary from the Ministry of Environment and Forests. It had done the same by sending only a government secretary for the Regional Climate Summit in Bhutan a few months ago. It is aware that its fast-paced development has affected the neighboring countries, which is why it tries to avoid such summits. India makes promises to participate in climate change issues but it has not yet dared to lead. According to a study of Climate Action Network South Asia (CANSA), an umbrella organization of South Asian NGOs for climate issues, the laws regarding climate change are good but are yet to be implemented. The SAARC declaration from conferences in Maldives in 2007, Bangladesh in 2008 and Thimpu in 2010 had agreements on working together to tackle climate change issues but they have not been implemented. Analysts have said that India’s unwillingness is the main cause behind this. India needs to understand that this problem is not only of its neighbors. Therefore, it has to take the lead and work on implementation of adaptive issues because natural disasters occur regardless of national boundaries. Besides India, China’s concern for the issues regarding climate change in mountain countries is also crucial. Only if and when the two economic giants come together for climate issues in mountainous countries, the world will acknowledge the current problems they are all facing. Bhatta is a senior correspondent at Nagarik daily and has been writing on environmental issues for the past eight years. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33636 When Brahma instructed Ganga to descend to Earth in order to help the ancestors of King Sagar reach heaven, she compassionately refused. She argued that if she were to fall to Earth from the sky, then Earth would be flooded and all beings upon it would be drowned. At this, Shiva intercepted, insisting that this would not happen if he were to catch her upon his head whereby she could flow safely through his tresses to Earth.[break] It is easy to understand why such stories avail, for when paralleled to the earthly terrain upon which she does actually flow, such streams that stretch out like locks of hair may be seen in her upper reaches as she emerges from her various Himalayan sources to join her main path. Her first, foremost and most prominent stream that corresponds to the well-known tale mentioned above, rises at Gaumukh from where she flows through Gangotri as Baghirathi. But, simultaneously from the same glacial deposits, she arises at Kedarnath, as Mandakini and also at Badrinath, as Alaknanda. Her Kedarnath and Badrinath streams unite at Rudraprayag and flow on jointly as Alaknanda and her Baghirathi stream from Gaumukh and Alakananda streams join at Devprayag. Albeit the most famous, this is the tale of just one of her mountain births. For all along her flow she is joined by a multitude of streams and large rivers that connect to her main flow. The river Yamuna rises from the Yamnotri glacier and flows parallel to Ganga meeting her at Allahabad. And if we take a glance across the Himalayan range in Nepal, we could name a multitude of sources arising and joining to the Ghaghara, Gandak or Koshi and see how these large rivers eventually end up in Ganga’s flow. Sources as far wide away as the peninsular uplands of western India are carried forth by rivers such as the Chambal, Betwa and Son. Arising from semi arid areas, they have less water, but nevertheless eventually join Ganga. It is said that her entire basin is accountable to approximately half a billion people, which in itself makes her well worth looking after. A ‘prayag’ is a Sanskrit word used to denote where two rivers meet and become one. This is a very important and symbolic place for spiritual practise, representing a place of coming together of parts that are separated, a place of union. ‘Two becoming one’ is an all-embracive important symbol on any spiritual path as we humans are ever searching a way to connect our constantly divided dualistic mind that works in opposites into its complete and whole aspect. On route to Rishikesh, I was drawn to one of Ganga’s more famous prayags where Baghirathi’s turbulent flow and Alakananda’s peaceful flow meet. All the major upper streams of her youthful form from her furthest reaching points in Uttaranchal have come together at Devprayag, a small town situated on the corner of their intersection. As a ‘prayag’, it is a place representing union, oneness of being and wholeness. And significantly so, here she officially becomes Ganga. Babas sit by the banks of the river in small cave like shelters carved into the rocks near the intersection and people from far and wide come here to bathe and feed the huge fish that swim near to the shore. It is from this point that she is to flow out of the Shivaliks, which are the outer most range of the Himalayas, into the plains of North India. Here her stream twists and turns around major bends that cruise through low mountains of up to 1100 metres high. Her waters become larger and more mature as she reaches Rishikesh, (around 70km below stream from Devprayag) where her main flow is more than 100 metres wide. From here she continues to Haridwar (another 40km on) from where her major work of depositing the fertile alluvial muddy soils of her higher mountainous path onto the agricultural basin of north India, begins. Lovely beaches line this route to Rishikesh and on way by road, I happen to stop at a wayside place, where I request permission to camp for the night. Having asked at the house nearest to the place, I pitch my tent on a small sandy area next to her fast flowing rapids. The river is quite wide here and loud as her water flows across large boulders fixed for centuries in the way of her flow. As night falls, it grows cool and the local watchman from the house tells me to light a fire to safeguard against straying bears and wolves. I think that this advice may be a little exaggerated, but I comply, if not just so as to enjoy a nice fire. Wood is plentiful and the large logs make a great light. The next morning, I awake to the sound of shouting from the river and I can see rafts tackling the rapids in line, containing school kids screaming out of the sheer fun of it. I wave back and tiptoe into an eddy of freezing cold and reasonably still water near the edge of the river that does not flow with the strong current of the central part. People have been known to disappear in such rapids and the school kids are all well equipped with life saving vests. I don’t swim too far away from the edge.The watchman appears later on in the morning and invites me to come to the local temple where he tells me the story of a self-appearing Shiva lingam here. Many years ago, one cow that belonged to a village across the river used to swim across each day, laden with milk in her udder. However, when she returned at nightfall, she would have no milk left in her. This went on for years and years. One day, the village people decided to investigate the reason why this occurred and found out that once she had crossed the river, she would deposit the milk on the Shiva lingam and thus nourishing it, it would grow. Eventually they built a temple around it and today, the lingam is still in tact and is tended to by a pundit. I parallel the Gangetic basin with the vast lineage basins of each and every one of us abiding on this planet. If we stop to think about how things may have been just ten centuries ago from now and where each one of our ancestors were then, we could not even start to think in terms of who we think we are now in terms of cultural and racial definition. Yet we believe ourselves part of one or another race and identify ourselves with one or another society according to where we were born. All sentient beings are so carefully, yet so precariously linked if you observe it closely like this. Rivers easily cross borders and even though their names may change as they do so, they are intrinsically starting as tiny streams, or glacial melting points high up in the mountains, growing and adding, swelling and becoming mighty rivers, world famous, yet each of their parts are as intricately important as the other as they exist within the delicate balance, being both their individual section as well as the whole river at the same time. For just as the source drips from the glacier at Gaumukh, so does the mighty Ganga meet the ocean at the Bay of Bengal. It is a simultaneous occurrence of events happening in the same instance of time. And we too as humans are building up from a tiny being at birth, and fast and furious as in the mountain streams of youth and swelling more gently towards our final goal where we dissolve into the ocean as do all rivers eventually. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33633 At the twentieth birthday bash of Kantipur Publications, imminent commentator Hemant Aryal surprised an attendee of the crowded party with a polite Kannada greeting Channa Gide. Symptomatic of enigmatic Kannadigas, Channa Gide enquiry often follows a formal exchange of Namaskara. The question can also be a remark and can mean anything from “Doing Well?” to “Oh, so you are still alive?” and everything in between. The casual comment brought back memories of Bangalore to Aryal and his interlocutor.[break] The state was then called Mysore. Chief Minister Devraj Urs, Mrs. Indira Gandhi’s trusted lieutenant in the politics of South India, would soon rename it Karnataka to appease the chauvinistic constituency that Kannada film star Rajkumar had begun to cultivate. Over three decades later, its capital city too would acquire a new identity and become Bengaluru. The city is now said to have one of the most modern airports in India. Back in the seventies, the airport didn’t even have a tourist information counter. After disembarking from a late-evening flight from Madras, four Nepali students appeared lost on an empty terminal. Perhaps bemused by their perplexity, a fellow passenger enquired where these boys, barely out of their teens, wanted to go in the city. One of them handed the address of a local college hostel. The good Samaritan not only offered them a lift but also took them for dinner on the way to what was then the swankiest restaurant on St Marks’s Road. According to the host, the eatery was so posh that most of its service personnel—the gateman, the steward, waiters as well as most members of the band—were Nepalis. The dinner conversation started on a somewhat frustrating note. Without a hint of malice in his tone, the seemingly well-educated host inquired why Nepal needed engineers and doctors. “Isn’t that a country run by Indians who manage their affairs while reigning Maharajas live lavishly by exporting soldiers and gatekeepers?” His four guests took turns to explain patiently that Nepal already had large number of engineers and doctors but needed more for its modernization. “In that case, why don’t you have your own engineering and medical schools?” He was not convinced that Nepal lacked resources to establish its own technical institutions. His skepticism was valid. He knew at least two fabulously wealthy Bangaloreans who styled themselves as princes of Nepal. On the way to the hostel, the kind Kannadiga apologized for his ignorance but didn’t forget to remind his guests, “If the nobility and the rich continue plundering your country, it would forever be ruled either by fascists or communists. The rich must give back to society to protect their privileges.” Nearly four decades after that chance conversation, dark predictions of an ill-informed but well-meaning Kannadiga continues to have relevance. Barring profit-sector enterprises that produce manpower for export, Nepal hardly has one or two institutions of higher technical education even today. Bangalore in the seventies was a laidback city. Known as pensioners’ paradise, those who could afford had Ambassador and Premier Padmini cars. Others walked when they needed to travel to the neighborhood temple or market. Consequently, public transport was grossly inadequate. Distances were too far apart to be served by bicycle rickshaws. Auto-rickshaws ruled the road to such an extent that students often joked that Bangalore was a city under ‘auto-cracy.’ The food was cheap. A Masala Dosa, followed by a cup of filter coffee, could be had for a rupee at the local Kamath or Udipi eateries. Restaurants were required to serve full Janata vegetarian meal for only one rupee per Thali set. But what set Bangalore apart was its wide open spaces and lush greenery. In comparison, Kathmandu had, in the words of Sardar Bhim Bahadur Pande, the dubious distinction of being the only capital city of the world without a proper public park. Kathmandu still doesn’t have a public park worth the name and there is no publicly known plan of building one in near future, either. Perhaps that could be one of the reasons behind the lack of openness among public figures in the Valley—they don’t have the urbanity that comes from sharing open spaces. With the combined effort of British military that concentrated on cantonment area and the royal administration that took care of the rest of the city, Bangalore had managed to acquire the best physical infrastructure in terms of roads, water supply, drainage and sewer lines, electricity and playgrounds in India. A relatively low density of population helped: Until early in the seventies, less than half a million people lived in what was still a garden city with buildings taller than nearby trees proscribed by the municipality. Culture was another defining feature that made Kannadiga life vibrant. Theater world buzzed. Music scene was exciting. Painters were active. Writers were energetic. The middleclass of Bangalore was content and concentrated on creativity. Populist programs of Chief Minister Urs—outside of communist-ruled Kerala and West Bengal, Karnataka had adopted most effective land reforms, Dalit empowerment, and poverty alleviation projects in India—had succeeded in keeping ethnic chauvinists confined to Tamilnadu and leftwing ultras contained in Kerala. With research centers like the Indian Institute of Science and state-of-the-art public sector undertakings such as Bharat Heavy Electric Limited (BHEL), and Hindustan Machine Tools (HMT), the city had begun to emerge as a technological hub. A bourgeoisie confident of its future took active interest in its city. A culture of philanthropy had already taken root. Alms and charity Tradition of alms is quite strong in Hindu and Buddhist religions. No shame is attached to begging and believers are expected to give to the best of their ability. Hindu priests were expected to survive on alms so that they could devote all their energy to praying for the welfare of humanity. Buddhists clergy concentrated on meditation even as they depended upon donations from devotees. Unlike Christian tithing and Islamic Zakat, Hinduism and Buddhism do not prescribe a percent of income that need to be set apart for charitable purposes. However, large donations to Hindu religious ceremonies and temples, even in Nepal, are not uncommon. It is in the field of philanthropy that Nepalis seem to fall behind people of comparable status in other societies. Alms (Bhiksha) is an expression of pity. It may or may not relieve the suffering of the receiver but it certainly helps the giver feel good about his or her generosity. Charity (Daan) implies giving with religious intentions. The English word actually comes from Latin ‘caritas,’ meaning Christian love. Charity is intended for piety. It may ease misery of the receiver for a while but it does very little to address the social causes that had created the distress in the first place. This is where philanthropy comes in. Philanthropy aims to address the underlying causes of social problems such as poverty, illiteracy, malnutrition, ill health, racism, unemployment, crime, and lack of wellbeing. The concept is so alien that it does not even have a proper term in Nepali. Paropkar comes closest to the idea of philanthropy, but the Sanskrit term carries religious connotations. Charitable princes built ornate temples and community chiefs set up well-endowed Guthi trusts to keep cultural traditions alive. Sinners gave away liberal land grants and generous cash incentives to priests and preceptors who blessed them with impunity from sins of killing their own kinsmen. The poor, the downtrodden, the marginalized, the externalized and the weak of the society were expected to live through their suffering as repentance of sins of their past births while the blessed enjoyed fruits of their good karma in previous lives. Disconnect between the two groups of people was complete. In this milieu, there was little chance of the rich investing in the betterment of the society they lived in. After the fall of the Mallas in Nepal Valley, no ruler invested his time or money for the betterment of society. Extraction and exploitation of the land remained the norm for over two centuries. Rootless elites Lacking a sense of belongingness, every Rana ruler decamped with whatever he could manage to take away. Some of Jang Bahadur’s progenies are believed to have taken part of the Lucknow Loot with them to Kashi and Prayag. Khadga Shamsher retired so fabulously rich to Sagar in central India that he transformed the look of the town of his chosen residence. Dev Shamsher opted for a hill station in the then United Provinces. Most minor Ranas invested in Calcutta, a few savvy ones extending their holdings beyond the seven seas in Europe. The extent of booty that Juddha Shamsher had managed to take into his retirement in Dehradoon can be guessed from the fact that when the Indian government decided to demonetize 500- and 1,000-Rupee notes, he sent about 25 million in cash for exchange to Kathmandu. Over half a century ago, that must have been some sum. Bangalore was home to the last Rana premier Mohan Shamsher and the royal son-in-law Krishna Shamsher. Krishna was slightly different from his avaricious cousins. He gave away his Kathmandu house to the government. It is now the presidential palace. Rana priests and precepts preferred to deposit their share of national plunder in places like Varanasi and Calcutta but some of them were farsighted enough to invest in the stock exchange of Bombay and London. Any one of them could have set up world-class universities, hospitals, or institutions of art and culture after the Ranacracy ended in the 1950s. None of them brought back a paisa for the betterment of their country. At the micro level, the situation was even worse. According to the first census and land record taken ninety years ago, Mahottary was the most populous and prosperous region of the country. Some of the richest Jagir holders of the area were Ranas, their relatives, priests, precepts, trusted henchmen, faithful attendants and sundry other hangers-on. Let alone a school or hospital, not even a public inn bears the name of Raja Man Bahadur Singh, Raja Tarak Bahadur Shah, Ram Shamsher or various Upadhyas, Sharmas, Giris, Mallas and Shresthas who prospered with the blessings of their masters. The pattern was same throughout the country. The high nobility carted away its wealth abroad while lower aristocrats lived off the plunder of the countryside in Kathmandu Valley. Charity can be done anywhere; philanthropy requires a sense of obligation to the place and people that have made the rich what they are. Philanthropy is an investment in common future. Before leaving the town a few years later, some of the boys visited the factory of the good Kannadiga who had taken them for dinner soon after their arrival. The place was modest. It manufactured the Indian brand of a famous American ink. The owner was slightly ashamed of his ignorant remarks. He need not have been so. The Nepali elite still lives off manpower export earnings and takes pride in the fact. His predictions have not yet lost their relevance: The country continues to face the risk of oscillating between fascism and communism. Philanthropy can humanize the rich and energize the poor, but that’s something that can be legislated. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33632 Do we really weigh the pros and cons at the beginning, or are we more instinctive and impulsive about romancing someone? Do we have a set of criteria to meet, or do we take the plunge headlong even when none are met? Do we fall for the lowest hanging fruit for fear of not finding someone else, fear of loneliness? Are we in relationships that are not fulfilling but we stick around on the hopes that one fine day he might come around? Of course, there are no definite answers, and it is subject to our different perspectives.[break] However, these questions sometimes become my quest, like now. The idea is not to compartmentalize the myriad colors of these laws of attraction into a sociological phenomenon or suggest a set of rules. But to raise a few questions that have stumped me time and again. We all have these instant reactions when we see couples. We most definitely know of at least one couple who seems awkward together, making you wonder how they could be in a happy relationship. At other times, we swoon over a pair who seems perfect for each other. However, there is always more than what meets the eye. The next thing you know, you are at a friend’s party and the perfect pair, to your romantic heart’s disappointment, has fallen out of love and moved on while the other couple you could not believe are together are still head over heels in love. These realities are sometimes a little beyond comprehension. Who defines who is wrong for us? It got me thinking about the very source of a romantic relationship. I am not talking about marriages yet, that is a completely different ball game altogether, but young relationships. Those born out of one or more of these: attraction, habit, persistence, naivety, ingenuity, comfort, convenience, or just the idea of being in love. As I write this, in my mind I am scanning through the relationships I have had and know of – bracketing them into these broad varieties. A great guy I know – charming, intelligent, sensitive and decent looking – fell hard for my best friend and pursued her for almost a year. She was defiant in the beginning because after all the years of being frivolous, she was scared and wanted a serious relationship but did not think of him to be the right guy though secretly she waited for him. Two years down, and now they are talking about wedding bells. Persistence. Contrast that against being in a committed relationship for seven years, from school right through college. And one day, after a lot of contemplation, she decided she had grown out of it and did not feel the same way anymore. Fair enough – they started out naively, were attracted to each other, cocooned in their comfort zone, and then it frizzled out. Who’s to blame? In the times we live in, online dating cannot be skipped in a discussion like this. She started chatting with someone and felt an unusual comfort that she enjoyed. Essentially, she made that a habit and her daily routine was governed by the timings and convenience of this virtual person. He is very much real, but equally ephemeral. His peculiar ingenuity, his great story telling ability and intellect, a crazy sense of humor have her smitten. She tells him she is falling for him, only to realize her love is unrequited. Was she in love with him or with the idea of being in love? He loved her; she was attracted to him, too. They were fine until she cheated on him. Does not matter if the other guy was his best friend; he would not trust again. She is now happily married. He is still recovering from his immense loss. They are still friends, but should they be? Is it fair to the next girl he is with if he can never move on? Or will he meet someone like him, torn by time to be healed in their similarities. She accidentally fell for a married man. She worked with this guy on a project, met him after for dinner and drinks and the next thing she knows he has asked her out for a party. She is oblivious about the fact that he is married or seeking separation, and by the time she finds out, she has given all of herself to him. Would she not have fallen for him had she known better? This list is not exhaustive and I am only playing with some thoughts. It is not cynical to believe that love is not the sole basis of a relationship. Or is it? I just feel it comes much after, if at all! So what is it that we want from these relationships? I am keeping commitment out of the picture for now. Looks? Passion? Honesty? Companionship? Common Interests? Or just someone to complete your personality – Is that not why opposites attract? Do not answer it. That is the thing about standards: they do not allow you to think for yourself. Rather, inadvertently, they have you ticking off from a certain ‘list,’ like the one above. Such rhetoric will persist but is passé. What you need to find an answer to though is this – What do you really want? The writer is in equal measure her mamma’s and destiny’s child, in search of her white picket fence while hanging by a bungee rope. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33631 Imagine with me: The room is filled with people decked out in their finest. The music, soft and serene, blends with the environment in the backdrop. There’s certain urgency among the servers as they rush to ensure that the Dom Pérignon reaches all corners of the room. Light-hearted conversations and hearty laughter trill throughout the room as males and females compliment each other on all things lavish. No doubt itis a posh, high-end lifestyle I am asking you to imagine here.[break] Finally, you have arrived at this venue we have created. You roll out from your Mercedes W211 and laxly toss the key to the valet. The valet takes your keys from you but looks at you rather skeptically as he appears to be wondering about something. ‘How strange the people in this town are,’ you think but, of course, you pay no attention to this and walk into the room. When you make that grand entrance, people inside also undoubtedly give you a look. You attract attention instantly. However, there seems to be something scornful in the attention you are getting. You figure it is because you are new in town, that you are having a hard time adjusting and are reading too much into things. As night draws to an end, you bid farewell and head out to your beauty of a car. You tell the valet the number of your car. Again, the same contemptuous vibe meets you from these valets. And things get pretty mixed up when the valet refuses to bring you your car because he thinks you do not own the car. ‘Wait, what just happened?’ you think. These people seem to have acted in strange manners that they did because they thought, all along, that your looks were incongruent with what you were driving, for according to them, jeans and t-shirt is not what a Benz owner would typically “suit up” in. Okay, let us get back to reality now. I am sure you are thinking that this is too farfetched of a scene; except, it is not. Believe it or not, one of my professors actually had to go through this humiliation just because his daily wear – fancy or casual – comprises jeans and t-shirts.  And even if you were to replace things like Dom Perignon with, say, Khukuri Rum, and Mercedes W211 with Bajaj Pulsar180 to make it more identifiable, I would say it is a pretty relatable experience. I can easily recall such an experience that happened with me. It was during the rainy months around two years ago when I needed to go to Yak and Yeti to inquire about something. I was wearing flops, an old ragged shirt and jeans. Moreover, the pouring rain did no favor by drenching me wet. I went to the door and the guard actually stopped me and asked me what my purpose of visit was. When I told him I wanted to find out something, he told me to call the reception to find out because they could not allow me to go in at the moment. I can only tell you the different degrees of anger I felt within me and you can bet I gave him a thorough piece of my mind. All these words just to get to my main point: Looks, apparently, matter. Despite the whole “I like someone with a bright personality” claptrap, it cannot be more obvious that someone without a proper dress sense has no chance even in hell of allowing his/her personality to “shine through.” And if so be the case, then I say personality be damned (for the time being at least) and vanity be embraced. No wonder models make it big solely on the basis of their limited vocabulary of “woohoo!” and “awesome!” and closet-size amount of an average person’s vocabulary. But models or not, Benz owners or not, what little firsthand experience and numerous other stories to validate my experience have taught me is that looking good has become more than just about fashion today. Looking good has somehow become a part of feeling good too. It is pretty amazing what materialism can do to you, is it not? Sometimes I think I can actually be as effective solely because what I wear gives me the confidence to be who I am. Sure, I have come a long way from my ragged shirt and jeans-wearing days in terms of fashion, but somehow that experience of being looked down upon is something that is going to stick for a long, long time. It is going to stick with me because that experience is what taught me, perhaps, that vanity is very fair. Ayushma Basnyat is a student of political science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33629 In a little over a year, 31 people from the Tibetan communities – monks, nuns and ordinary Tibetans – have set themselves on fire to protest Chinese rule in Tibet. The most recent immolations happened when two Tibetan monks set themselves alight in the western Chinese city of Markhang. This was just two days after photographs of Jamphel Yeshi, a Tibetan exile who burnt himself to death, running ablaze in the streets of New Delhi, flashed worldwide.[break] Whereas non-violence reigns as the supreme key to all Buddhist thinking and behavior, the self-immolations of monks and nuns – regarded as an act of violence upon oneself – has started a debate in many Buddhist communities. “The current self-immolation (by Tibetan monks) is first and foremost an issue of nationalism. It doesn’t directly have to do with Buddhism,” shares a Lama of Ka-Nying Shedrub Ling Monastery at Bouddha who did not wish to be named. “It’s true that suicide or taking one’s own life, be it by monks or ordinary Buddhist followers, is considered an offense. But the dharma (religion) also says to delve into the reasons and motivations behind any act.” Dr Khenpo Ngawang Jorden, Director at the International Buddhist Academy, also affirms that in Mahayana, a major school of Buddhism, intentions behind an action is significant. “In theory, according to the Sutra point of view, self-immolation is a form of violence and is thus forbidden,” he explains. “But from the Tantra point of view, you also have to look into the intention. If it’s an act of selfless offering or for a greater good of others and for bigger achievement, it’s justified.” He refers to how in the past as well, many Buddhist nuns and monks who sacrificed themselves with noble intentions were highly regarded. Even the Buddha Himself in His former lives is said to have offered Himself to a dying tigress so she could feed her cubs. Another legend that Dr Jorden and many Buddhist experts bring up during conversation on seemingly violent acts and intentions is a story mentioned in the Bodhisattva Sutra. According to the legend, when the Buddha was still a Bodhisattva (an individual on the path to Enlightenment), he killed a merchant who had planned to kill 499 of his fellow merchants on a ship to acquire their riches during their return voyage. The reason that the Buddha did this was not out of hatred or ill will but out of compassion to save the innocents. So even though outwardly the killing was a crime and a sin, the intention justifies the act. They also argue that if the Buddha had not killed the evil merchant, knowing fully well of his intention of murdering the rest 499 merchants, he would have been a part of the crime and thus have committed a greater sin. “It’s the intention of an act one has to be clear about,” says Dr Jorden. “However, it’s a challenge in today’s world to figure out the actual motivations or intentions.” In Theravada, another school of Buddhism, self-immolation or any form of suicide is considered a great offense and strictly condemned. “That’s wrong,” Lama Chandra Kirti of Nagar Mandap Sri Kirti Vihar, a Theravada hermitage in Kirtipur, claims in his short response to self-immolation. Guruma (Nun) Meena from the Vihar further explains that the Buddha Himself after putting His body through torture by abstaining from food for years to achieve Enlightenment succumbed to the bodily necessity. “The Buddha teaches that one should not inflict suffering on oneself or others alike. Your actions, be it good or bad, always have consequences on others around you,” she says and adds, “One has to respect one’s body; life is precious. The monks and nuns who immolated themselves must have had selfless and noble intentions, we can never be sure of that, but Buddhism never encourages such act.” The third school or Vajrayana – the origins of which is still debated as of whether it stems from Mahayana or Theravada or is a different school altogether – also maintains its belief in non-violence against any living creature. The traditional Buddhism of the Newars of the Kathmandu Valley is also a very ancient form of Vajrayana Buddhism which was once much more widespread, being followed throughout South Asia and beyond, as far as Cambodia, Java, and Bali in Southeast Asia. “Vajrayana doesn’t really have clear doctrines on self-sacrifice,” says Buddhism expert Min Bahadur Shakya. “But the school itself is said to a part of Mahayana, and though suicide for personal gain is considered an offense, the Doctrine of Skillful Means in Mahayana suggests that a Bodhisattva can’t remain silent amid the sufferings of people and has to act for the welfare of the multitude.” He reasons that many monks and nuns who sacrificed their lives in the recent immolations thought it their part to call the attention of the oppressors and the world to the sufferings of the Tibetans and to make a point that it has to stop for the welfare of the sufferers. Immolation or the act of setting oneself on fire in itself is of significance, says Shakya. Many Mahayana traditions and even abolished Hindu traditions like Sati acknowledge burning oneself as showing utmost commitment and seriousness to a cause. In the past, many monks and nuns burnt one or several parts of their limbs during their ordination ceremony. “To burn oneself is feeling the climax of any kind of pain. It’s unlike shooting or bombing oneself which is followed by a quick death. And saying something while experiencing such pain is considered a great importance,” Shakya explains. “Moreover, lighting oneself is also a form of strongest self-expression to draw attention to what one has to say.” Yeshi, who immolated himself at a mass protest ahead of Chinese President Hu Jintao’s visit to India in New Delhi, ran shouting protest slogans while engulfed in flames. In his hand-written statement, made public by the Tibetan Youth Congress, he also clarified that while some would offer money to help fight for freedom, some would struggle through education, and some who have control over their life like him should sacrifice oneself. “The fact that Tibetan people are setting themselves on fire in this 21st century is to let the world know of their sufferings, and to tell the world about the denial of basic human rights,” the letter continues. Shakya adds that self-immolation by lay people or clergies from religious points of view will always be considered violence, but currently it is more of a political issue. Even His Holiness Dalai Lama, who has been accused by the Chinese government of inciting self-immolations, expressed in his statement to UPI (United Press International), that he did not encourage self-immolation by monks and nuns protesting China’s control over Tibet and questioned the usefulness of the acts as a protest tool. However, he did acknowledge that the monks and nuns had courage, but he gave the impression that it was not a Buddhist thing to do. Shakya cites that while in 1963 when Thich Quang Duc, a Vietnamese monk, set fire to himself followed by subsequent self-immolation by other nuns and monks protesting against US imperialism, it became a worldwide sensation. America then was subsequently compelled to withdraw from Vietnam. Whether the recent self-immolations are regarded an offences or noble acts of self-sacrifice in religion, or acts of altruistic suicides in sociological theory or even as a political protest tool, the debate over its significance will go on. The Vietnamese Buddhist monk, author and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh, in his open letter to Rev Dr Martin Luther King Jr regarding the then self-immolations by various Vietnamese monks and nuns, surmised it well: “..The Press spoke then of suicide, but in the essence, it is not. It is not even a protest. What the monks said in the letters they left before burning themselves aimed only at alarming, at moving the hearts of the oppressors and at calling the attention of the world to the suffering endured then by the Vietnamese...” http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33628 Call it grapes, angur or inab UJJWALA MAHARJAN In an anecdote I read somewhere a long time back, a sage asks three people from different cultures what they called a grape in their language. The three men answer respectively: angur, grapes, and inab. The sage then smilingly concludes that though they have different names for grapes, the fruit they refer to is one.[break] Likewise, though they may have different names for their gods, the entity they refer to is one. This story somehow has always stuck with me, and the concept of “different” gods never made sense to me. Growing up in a Newar family where the puja kotha (worship room) always has had idols and posters of Shiva, Laxmi, Ganesh, Bishnu, the Buddha, Guruma and gods that I don’t even know the names of, I never figured if I was a Buddhist or a Hindu. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this. So I’ve been to temples, vihars, gumbas and chaityas and even churches on occasions. I haven’t had a chance to go into a mosque, but if an opportunity arrives, I wouldn’t shy away. This week I’ve been visiting some Gumbas and Viharas. The essence of both these words, which basically means a hermitage, is again the same but people over the years have come to recognize them with different terms/symbols that they coined in the first place. And these people even came from the same religion but, as I found out, from different “branches.” Like a tree that grows out of one seed and branches out, religions and cultures I believe also stemmed from one single point and spread into different directions. In due course, as one end of this tree somehow thought it was independent of and different from the other countless ends that seemed poles apart, they forgot about their “One” origin. Now, what this point of origin was/is, I can’t fathom to debate. I just believe it’s something beyond cytoplasm, the Sun, space, energy and even time. And maybe, so the human mind could comprehend such fathomless entity, and they came up with their symbols; they came up with their gods. So in the chaos of distinguishing oneself as a Krishnayana, Shaiva, Vaishnav, Mahayana, Vajrayana, Hinayana, Catholic, Protestant, Shia, Sunni and countless such divisions, I would rather not know where I belong. Because if I were to truly delve into the basic essence of any religion that every kid learns in the kindergarten – appreciate, apologize, love, respect, be honest, be kind, and don’t harm anyone – I know I would fit anywhere. Because, basically, it’s all just one. Grapes, Angur, Inab–God, God, and God. At least that’s what I believe in. Ujjwala tweets @UjjwalaMaharjan Marriage? No thank you CILLA KHATRY Welcome to the fifth installment of me ranting about myself and my strangely weird and complicated life and all the people who are miserably associated with me. I’ve been warned not to talk about my family and friends by my family and friends, of course, so I’m going to steer clear of that to avoid the early morning blaring of phone and pounding on my bedroom door the moment the victim of the week reads the paper. So I’ve safely chosen a topic that centers on me. My marriage. But as I’m writing this, I’ve realized that I can’t pick the issue without mentioning my Mom who seems to be in a rush to get me out of the house. Sorry, Mom! But if you’re reading this, I hope you’re listening, too. Okay, so the talk at home is mostly about my marriage. My Mom brings it up every single day (sometimes even twice a day) so much so that I’ve started to wonder if she dreams about it as well. A big lavish wedding is her fantasy and my worst nightmare. Weddings have always scared me. The whole concept of being dolled up as a bride makes me hyperventilate. Add to that the thought of standing on a fancily done up stage with a smile plastered on my face, and I wish I had siblings who could fulfill this crazy and senseless wish of hers. I have pretty liberal parents who tell me I can marry anyone as long as I just say yes to marriage. Caste, religion, nationality are no barrier. Marry the one I love or they’ll find someone for me to marry and then love. That’s what they say. My argument is that I can’t cook or clean and am least bit interested in doing any household chores. Nor am I okay with living in a house other than the one I’m currently residing in. And also, getting married takes away my freedom of waking up late, the one luxury I don’t want to be deprived of. But my Mom tosses these arguments aside and calls it childishness. I’m in a quandary and find myself thinking about marriage at odd times during the day. I think to myself that I shouldn’t marry the one I love because I can’t put him through the torture because God knows how difficult a person I am. So I’ve come up with the brilliant idea that I should find a mean, arrogant and selfish man and spend the rest of my life making his life miserable. It’s karma. Sounds like a good idea to me. Would my Mom agree though, I wonder. Probably not. But this plan will definitely stop her from discussing my marriage. For a while, at least. Mission (provisionally) accomplished! Cilla tweets @cillakhatry Dealing with my height ASMITA MANANDHAR “What’s your height?” – A very common question that I come across almost every day. It is sometimes interesting that people would want to know my height before they ask for my name. It has become an easy subject for starting a conversation. I have even been questioned by random people while shopping. And some others who are not brave enough to ask me on my face mutter on their own, “Bafre! Kasto lambu!” (Whoa! What height!) I have also come around people who neither ask me nor mutter but I just know they are interested in my height by a certain kind of expression on their face. 5’ 8”. There you go! I know some of you would say, “Geez, what’s the big deal?” Trust me, I feel the same way. But the measurement happens to be slightly taller than the average Nepali height. And I have not solely deduced it from people questioning me but the fact is strongly supported by the size of clothing and shoes we find in the Nepali market. I have to dig in to the sizes that shopkeepers just throw in the corner of their stores, convinced that nobody will own it. To save myself from all the efforts of finding the right size in the girl section, I was a tomboy while growing up, and during most of my teenage years. I was always dressed in baggy pants, loose T-shirts and sneakers. Though I never really liked what I was wearing, the tomboy-ish thing portrayed me as a ‘cool’ one, and my attempt to fit in the world that I always outfitted was more or less a success. Nevertheless, my friends always used to feel intimidated by my height. So I began to droop my shoulders a little low just to avoid being awkward while walking with them. This soon developed into a habit. But I have been trying to change that since I met a friend a few months back. It was a delight to see her, someone even taller than me – 5’11”, to be precise. She and I shared many experiences for being taller, most of them disadvantages. Then she told me how droopy she used to be as a kid, and that she knew she had to stop that. “I wanted the world to deal with the way I am,” she said. That very statement made me realize how hard I was still trying to fit in. Not to look like a giant and fit in with the stereotype, denying my unique physical quality. There have been moments when I have wished that my feet size would be a little smaller, or people would stop asking about my height. But as I decide on making the “world to deal with the way I am,” I think of the sale in a shoe store and calculate my chances of getting a pair of my size! Asmita tweets @framesandlaces Swindled by an ethical cabdriver NISTHA RAYAMAJHI Not so long ago, I was quite in a rush to meet a cousin of mine. After waiting for a while to get the usual Safa tempo ride to Tripureshwor, I gave up after I saw no signs of my ride. I didn’t want to make my cousin wait. Being a very punctual person myself, I hate making people wait for me as well. The place wasn’t so far and with no option left, I reluctantly went up to a cab at Sundhara. Well, reluctantly, because except for a few times I’ve always been duped and I’m tired of being duped by cabdrivers with their tampered meters! Riding a cab on full alert, constantly checking the frivolous meter can be such a hassle. That a few minutes of taxi ride can seem like a lifetime when the accelerated meter shows no sign of relaxing. The feeling of helplessness that surrounds you when you can do nothing but check the unrelenting meter is a feeling I’m sure my fellow cab-hailers are aware of. And it’s no help even when the driver is an “ethical” one. Halfway through the drive and he was yapping about how the traffic policemen were no good. They are wearing the uniform from our tax money...heck, they have the job because of our tax money! He was telling me how can there be traffic jams when these traffic cops are on duty and they speak in such demeaning manners as if they are doing us a favor. Then Mr. Cabman went on enlightening me on how ours is a stratified country where people treat you according to your wealth, your last names, your background, and the region you come from. I was nodding and saying “mmhmm” and “tyei ta” the whole time and all this while my eyes glued to the meter which was vehemently contradicting this preacher. I agreed with everything he had to say about our society, about the ungrateful traffic policemen, and the conflict that arises out of differences. I would agree more and respect him if he had not duped me after all the preachy talk he gave me. How on earth could he charge 300 Rupees for such a short distance? He even gave a lame excuse that he has to turn around all the way since it’s a one-way road and hence the charge. To compensate for my good listening skills, he gave me a 20-Rupee discount in the end, though. It’s alright to charge a few extra bucks but asking for double and treble the amount is just insane. I use cabs and a lot, and besides the fare issue, what annoys is when cabdrivers don’t even want to go somewhere when the route isn’t feasible for them. If that’s the case, how can they even stay on the streets as cabdrivers? With all those thoughts buzzing in my head after getting ripped off, meeting my cousin however, was a breath of fresh air. Nistha tweets @Nisthaz http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33627 For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude… William Wordsworth, Daffodils (1804) [break] In these lines, Wordsworth evokes his sense of wonder at the sight of the endless chain of daffodils stringing the waterworks of the famous Lake District in Northern England. For some reason, whenever I go through these lines, I am reminded of a favorite muse of my own, the Fewa Tal. Why Fewa? Why not the no less majestic Begnas or Rupa close by? I can’t quite put a finger on it, but Nietzsche perhaps comes the closest to articulating the way I feel about Fewa. “There is always some madness in love,” he says. “But there is also always some reason in madness.” When I was in Pokhara a year ago, all by myself, I spent most of my time reading on the porch of my lake-facing hotel room. Reclined in my wicker chair with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun, swigging on my ginger tea by the day, chugging local beer by the night, even as I struggled to adjust my poor eyes to the dim halogen light flooding the porch from inside the room. The book chronicles the cycle of violence surrounding the short-lived independence movement of the Nigerian region of Biafra, a little too close for comfort, I thought at the time, for a citizen of a country still struggling to come to terms with a violent struggle of its own. All through my stay, it rained like hell. Not that I needed any excuse to read by the Fewa right through the wet days. And wrestle for sleep through the forlorn nights. Angel has this disarmingly sweet habit of answering every question with a smile. “School janchhau?” (The cute little thing instantly breaks into a disarming grin.) “How long have you been here?” (The grin widens. Her dainty front row teeth shimmer in the morning sun.) Angel is five, one of the 17 girls sheltered at the childcare center being operated by the 3 Sisters Adventure Trekking. This scrawny girl with her short, cropped hair parted to the right, whose eyes tend to dance to the movements of the camera lens in front, was rescued by the 3 Sisters from her grandparents who were unable to look after Angel. A year earlier, her mother had run away. Her father, a notorious drunkard, had remarried; out of favor with her own father, the stepmother was quick to chuck the four-year-old Angel out of the house. Another 14-year-old girl from Syangja, also sheltered at the center, narrated a horrendous tale of her own. She too had to be rescued after being sold by one of her relatives. Her going price? Rs1,000! Perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that Angel now lives with these three incredible women who have given up their own lives to take care of hundreds of disadvantaged children and neglected and oppressed girls from right across the country. The Empowering Women Network shelter where the children are housed also provides training for women porters, most of whom come from broken homes. The intensive training offered at the center equips them with skills to serve as porters for women trekkers from the West who wish to trek in Nepal but are reluctant to hire male porters. The income is decent; and their new lives a far-far cry from their hellish existence before they came to the center. As I talk to the three Chhetri sisters (Lucky, Dicky, and Nicky) in their cozy orange-painted office tucked at the back of the center, I can see the brilliant morning sun playing on the now clam Fewa. Perhaps it was the same soothing vibe that inspired the sisters to set up their noble venture by the Lakeside. The same evening (March 28, 2012), slumped over my hotel bed, I am overlooking the evening sun set high above the algae-green Fewa, right next to the Peace Pagoda up on the tree-lined hills, a sheer rise from the lake. At a distance, I can make out a boat that looks stranded, bang in the middle of the stretch of water, visible from my room. The outline of the oarsman is hazier still, but he definitely isn’t rowing. Who would blame a little indulgence on his part finding himself as he does in the middle of the pastel of colors that is a cloudy but rainless Fewa evening in late March. It was then that I have one of those flashbacks, when a cascade of memories flood my head, triggered, this time, by something as innocuous as fuzzy outlines of a man on a nondescript boat barely within my sight. I am transported back to Pokhara of a year ago. I wanted to venture out on the lake alone. “Ma aafai garchhu!” I kept insisting with my innkeeper. “Hundai hundaina!” he was as vehement in his opposition. I would not be allowed, I was told, to go out on my own, not on his boat. Apparently, far too many lonely tourists had insisted on going out on the calm waters, never to return. Only after an elaborate exchange and after I had set down in writing my home and office address was I hesitantly let go. As I pushed the boat into the tepid water, the sky was already filled with nimbus clouds ready, it seemed, to batter down on the lush green valley below, anytime. I must have been an hour into the ride. Soaked in sweat from constant oaring, I decided to take a breather in the middle of nowhere, the Barahi at the center of the lake still some distance.  Caught unawares, my mind had conjured up a query, at once frightening and somber, as my eyes flitted over the vast green expanse that had engulfed me. Why had so many people over the years willfully chosen to make the final descent to the darkest depths of Fewa? In Shakespeare’s epic tragedy, Hamlet faces a similar existential dilemma, which forces him to soliloquize one of the most enduring phrases in all of English literature: “To be, nor not to be, that is the question.” The Prince of Denmark is contemplating suicide. But he is held back, for some of the same reasons, I reckon, most of us decide to push ahead our desolate lifeboats even amidst maddening uncertainties all around. We do so because, in Hamlet’s words, “… conscience does make cowards of us all.” Still supine in my bed, I can see through the window a navy-green van parked on the little grassy stretch that occupies the space between the observer, now chastened after a crash course in mortality, and the observed, my evergreen friend, my muse, my Fewa. By the van is a family out on a picnic: a middle-aged man, his blond wife and their two tousled-haired children, a girl in white frock and a boy in his purple shirt and khaki. By their side, a group of youngsters are playing football with the languid air that is impossible to replicate in the hurly burly of modern-day Kathmandu. On the far side is the placid Fewa, a silent witness to their effortless play and peregrinations of my restless mind. The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33626 The quaint little red house at Bakhundole in Pulchowk sells an amazing variety of garden pots and planters in an array of colors and designs. Christened Mud House, the place is open from nine in the morning to six in the evening. Just a little over three months old, Mud House products are already a rage, especially now after the items have been displayed at the recently concluded flower exhibition at Bhrikuti Mandap on Exhibition Road.[break] Gardening has always been a hobby for Pushpa Shrestha, a retired arts and crafts teacher at Shuvatara School in Sanepa. She ventured into this pots and planters business by accident when her brother, who works for FNCCI, suggested it to her. The proposition sounded like a novel idea to Shrestha who now runs Mud House from her own house with the help of her sister and daughters-in-law. “Since the items are made in Nepal, I want each and every household to have at least one. This is my motto,” says Shrestha whose passion and enthusiasm for crafts is evident by the way she talks and convinces her customers to opt for a particular piece. The factory she gets her supplies from used to export the planters to Korea and there was not much circulation within the nation. Now, thanks to Shrestha, locals too can accessorize their gardens with a range of beautiful yet affordable ceramic products. And because the process of making these beauties involves baking them at a temperate of 1,200-degree Celsius, they are strong and durable too. Shrestha is planning to expand the ceramics line to crockery and decorative items as well. A few hand-painted vases are currently on display which gives you a glimpse of the soon-to-be launched stunning collection. Step in and you can’t help but be allured by the range of planters the shop has for sale. Since the prices are very reasonable, you won’t need to think much before shopping here. Plus there is an attractive discount scheme going on at the moment. Pick up a few pretty ones to add a dash of pop and color to your home and garden. Tiny cactus planters, Rs 100/125 Place these cuties in a cluster at a windowsill and enjoy an early morning dose of nature as soon as you wake up. Indoor cup planter, Rs 150 Heart-shaped pot like this one can add a spark of funkiness to your coffee table. Cube planter, Rs 150 This adorable pot is currently available in only two colors, light green and white, but the uncommon shape gives it a different charm. Hand-painted planter, Rs 250 This pretty planter is simple and elegant. Only a few are available, so rush to grab yours now and make a refreshing addition to your garden. Chocolate planter, Rs 250 Crafted to look like a chocolate slab, this planter lends a touch of uniqueness to your space. Place one in your living room and wow your guests. Boat shaped planter, Rs 400 This curious looking ceramic pot can be used both outdoors and indoors. Available in many colors, this planter is quite an eye catcher. Large planter,Rs 500 Replace ordinary planters in your garden with these attractive ones and jazz it up a bit. It is available in a variety of colors and with intricate carvings. Basket planter, Rs 350 An interesting variation to your regular pots can be this ceramic wonder that is shaped to resemble a basket. Bone’s eye planters, Rs 400 Available in vibrant hues like lime green and bright blue, these pots can cheer up any entrance or lobby space. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33375 It’s a pleasant Friday evening inside 1905. A gentle breeze rustles the lush garden while dancing flames of the lit candles exude romance off the tables, well complemented by the western instrumental classics playing in a volume that inspires conversation. Among the diners are a group of elegant middle-aged women conversing between sips of Australian red wine. It would definitely have been a Cabernet Sauvignon or a Chardonnay had they had the choice but Australian wine it is this evening.[break] As night matures, so does the conversation which picks up volume. Fellow diners look over the shoulders but our ladies could care less. Laid back, there are giggles and heads are thrown back highly in laughter, commemorating the good times in life. The food at the table sits untouched as conversations hover on life, partners and children, politics, exotic recipes and household tips. Conversations go mellow. Advices are shared. There are tears. Clearly, this is where the men aren’t! Rekha Neupane, Aparna Gurung, and Subha KC have been friends since school. Now in their early 40s, their camaraderie is something to envy, and when it comes to their ritual weekend meeting, excuses like “my tummy hurts” or “my husband has friends over for dinner” are “un-ac-cept-a-ble.” Rekha: We’ve to meet every Friday or Saturday. It’s a must. No excuses, no bailing out. Not unless you’ve died. Aparna: Rekha is the queen of bad jokes. Subha nods in consent. Rekha: You aren’t a very nice friend. Subha: Go find yourself better friends then. The relationship between these women is fascinating and has always been of particular fascination to their husbands. And why wouldn’t it be, too? They are an enormous part of one another’s lives and have at times even opted to go out among themselves instead of a romantic dinner with their partners. “There was this one time when my husband wanted to take me out after work but I already had plans for a movie and I stuck to it,” says Aparna with a characteristic flip of her hair. Aparna, like Rekha and Subha, is a housewife and so this attitude of hers is considered particularly formidable in her own family where a housewife’s duty is first and foremost to take care of her husband. “I shouldn’t be judged if I would like to spend some time with my friends instead of my husband. After all, I need the “me” time to rejuvenate.” “Being a housewife is a tedious job. You’re on duty 24/7. There’s not a minute’s rest which is precisely why we depend on these outings to recharge ourselves,” says Subha, gesturing with metronomic consistency as she speaks in support of Aparna. Women are labeled daughters, wives and mothers; their identity somewhat being associated with somebody else throughout their lives. Amidst these identities, there are some women who want to carve their own niche, have their own space and basically be themselves, and these dates with their girlfriends gives them the perfect opportunity to do just that. Sonia Pokhrel, 51, is another such woman who, like Rekha’s trio, depends on her friends for a revival in life. A yoga freak and a housewife, she is addicted to her rendezvous with her friends. “There are certain things you can’t share with your spouse or your family but your friends are always there and the comfort level between close friends is such that there are no inhibitions,” says Sonia whose friends include Neeta Singh Karki, Arzu Rana Deuba, Kamla Bisht and Bandana Rana, all of whom are the same age as Sonia. Neeta is a housewife like Sonia but the rest are working women whose jobs keep them very busy. But even then, they try to meet as often as they can, making sure they are together on special occasions like birthdays, Valentine’s Day and new years, and the times they are together bustle with energy and the talks are never ending. “We talk about anything and everything under the sun. Mostly, we crib about our husbands,” shares Sonia who is all smiles and laughs. “Initially, we used to meet once a week or once in two weeks but now it’s come down to once a month or so because Kamla and Bandana are extremely overworked. But when we do get together, we have fun like it’s the last day of our lives,” says Sonia without stopping to take a breath. Neeta echoes the same statement, adding, “The times we spend together recharge us and fill us with a newfound passion and enthusiasm for life.” Subha shares similar feelings and keeps reiterating how these night-outs fill her with confidence and a sense of courage that routine life seems to zap out of her. “We look forward to our dinners and movie dates. These occasions are special because they give each of us a chance to be ourselves and clear our heads of all our worries,” shares Kamla with a glint in her eyes and a chirp in her voice that reflects the happy state she is in when she is with her friends. The talks between these lovely ladies range from home issues to running the country but they try and not talk about work as far as possible. “The conversation steers to work problems very frequently and Neeta and I have to keep reminding the rest that we’re out to have fun and not stress over work-related matters,” says Sonia with a laugh that seems to punctuate every sentence she utters. Kamla can’t help respond to Sonia’s statement, saying, “When work seems to dominate your life, it’ll crop up in your conversation. Sometimes you want your friends to advise you or just listen to your complaints. That’s completely understandable, isn’t it?” For the housewives, too, talks about their husbands and kids seem to dominate their conversation. “For working women, their jobs take the priority, so they end up talking more about work issues. But for us, our conversations are centered on our families,” shares Rekha. Whatever the talks might be about, the dates are a huge part of the ladies’ lives, providing them the perfect chance to let their hair down. The only difference between Sonia’s friends’ circle and Rekha’s trio is that Sonia and her friends don’t meet on a weekly basis but the reasons behind their get-togethers seem to be the same. These women all need an escape from their routine life; an escape from their husbands and familial responsibilities too at times. Rekha mentions, in the course of the conversation on the Friday evening that has now morphed into a starry night, that the weekly dinner date is what she draws strength from. These dates are times when she can let out the steam, take a step back and look at what’s happening in her life, get a fresh perspective and some good advice and prepare to take life head on once again. “Daily life can be taxing in so many ways and you need an outlet,” chimes in Aparna just as Subha starts talking about how she goes home at the end of their weekly dinner with a newfound resoluteness that keeps her happy all through the coming week. The thinning out of people at the restaurant signifies the end of another joyful evening. The wine bottle is empty but much of the food is still left on the plates. The invigorating chatter barely gave them enough time to both eat and drink, and they chose to drink. The ladies split the bill and reluctantly get up to leave but not before they have planned for their next night out. As they head home, they are once again ready to take on all the responsibilities that come with being a “woman.” And if anything goes wrong, they have their next tête-à-tête to look forward to in any case. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33374 As this year’s SLC Examinations neared, the anxiety levels of 16-year-old Dipendra Bhandari soared high. Called the Iron Gate and dubbed the “benchmark” of school-level education, the demands for Bhandari to excel and meet expectations of his teachers and parents in the national board examinations created immense pressures. And being an average student, it made it all the more difficult for him.[break] Each year, apprehension and pressure mounts among students who appear for SLC exams to such extents that despite the penalty if caught, the fear of failure lures students to dare cheat anyway. In this great gamble, even villages and communities back their local students by participating in supplying answer chits to them, relaying answers via mobile phones, provoking security personnel at examination centers and daring to challenge officials managing the exams. Ambika Prasad Regmi, Deputy Controller of the Office of the Controller of Examinations (OCE), confirms many cases of cheating in this year’s SLC exams. “There have been cases of fake examinees, filling in for someone else and dozens of examinees have also been expelled on the very first day of SLC exams after they were caught cheating.” In 2011, 227 students across the country were expelled for cheating. Exams were also cancelled for certain subjects of 421 students. “But compared to last year, the overall management of the examination has been fairly better,” said Regmi. If we are to believe him and if the stats post-SLC this year does indicate positive results, the question still remains – Why do students cheat? “The way the students have been brought up is what determines their behavior in the examination hall,” says Manesh Shrestha, A-Level teacher at Rato Bangla School. “Students have the wrong notion that since everyone is doing it, cheating is ethical. This gives them the leeway to cheat. And the penalty for cheating is not severe, so the students feel that they can cross the line and can get away with it as well.” Changes, however, cannot take place overnight, stresses Shrestha who believes values should be instilled in pupils from their early years so that they grow up thinking that cheating is immoral. Dipendra, however, laments that SLC is overrated and it just isn’t enough to judge the capability of the students. A student at Little Angels’ School, he has been graded and placed in “Section B” of his batch. The grading refers to his intellectual capacity, which labels him an average student. “We should rather mix the brilliant, average and poor students so that there’s no discrimination. Also, every student should be encouraged by the teachers,” he says. Even during midterm exams, he mentions that students are on the lookout to make attempts to cheat. “I too have copied answers of my friends at times. But that is because we don’t have the confidence of getting good marks by expressing ourselves in the answer sheets. There’s always the fear of not getting good marks if we don’t have answers as close to the textbook.” Recalling an incident when he couldn’t even recognize a species in a laboratory despite his good textbook knowledge, Dipendra laments, “This is the condition of our teaching methods in schools. We are made to mug up everything. So this pressure of memorizing and learning is what compels us to find a way to cheat so that we can score high marks.” “We want to learn practically where we can have more room to show our creativity, but categorizing students and labeling sections humiliates us as our worth is put into question,” the teenager is clearly frustrated and concludes that the education system is too rigid and traditional. And Dipendra is not alone among his ranks to express frustration. After eight hours of school, 16-year-old Ajit Kumar Baral, a student of DAV Higher Secondary School, returns home every afternoon only to dive deeper in his textbooks. With eight subjects to revise and piles of assignments, the pressure is grilling, to say the least. “For teachers, assignment submission is the main priority and it is do or die for us,” says Baral, whose friends even copy his math assignments. “It’s not a rare thing, either. We have even more assignments during vacations and when we don’t have the time, we have no other option but to copy from each other.” Bal Chandra Luitel, Associate Professor of Masters Program of the School of Education, Kathmandu University (KU), criticizes that Nepal’s education system doesn’t encourage or foster creativity in students. “Early from the nursery level, toddlers are made to memorize from their textbooks and are discouraged to express themselves. They are enveloped inside a certain structure by the teachers and are made to mug up what the teachers know without letting them open their creative selves.” As per Luitel, the entire curriculum and teaching culture needs to be altered. Even faculty-wise, the preparation is not sufficient as teachers usually teach the way they have been taught without seeing it from the perspective of the students. “Only 10 percent of what they learn by memorizing will be useful later in life. This kind of system just kills the potentials and hinders the ability of expression. So change can be brought about from the classroom itself.” Amrita Sharma, founder principal of Bidya Vyayam English High School, claims that the problem of cheating has been mainly seen in government schools. “In government schools, the numbers of students are more and they have irregular classes. The quality of education is also poor. In private schools, the teachers train the students well before the examinations so cases of  cheating are less.” If there are students who despise the way education is imparted in the country and experts like Luitel who criticize the unscientific system of educating children, some blame the students too. Sangita Aryal, a tenth grade teacher at Mahendra Bhawan Higher Secondary School, says students are just content with scoring pass marks. “Those students who find it hard to study are always on the lookout for an easy way out and so they rely on cheating.” Kashiraj Pandey, whose son is currently taking the SLC exams, feels that the trend of expecting answers in a fixed pattern by the teachers and the students in hope of getting high percentage is what makes students cheat. He is also of the opinion that commercialization of private schools pressure students to score distinction marks. “We don’t have trained teachers who see the creative side of the students and how they assimilate what is being taught in class.” TU Professor Dr Tirtha Khaniya, however, states that examinations have been looked upon from the administrative point of view, rather than seeing it academically. He says that the questions asked, especially in the SLC examinations, are not up to good standard. Answers are all found in guidebooks and students just mug the answers before taking the exams. He mentions that there is also more hype about the administration rather than the academic itself as the aspect of the latter hasn’t been looked upon. “So the only concern of the students will be to score high marks by cheating, mugging or any other means.” “There are hundreds of students giving the same answers so that way we are not producing creative students at all. We really need to change the question patterns. And the marking should be done on the basis of creativity.” That way, he thinks the students won’t be tempted to cheat as they will have all the rights to express themselves in the answer sheets. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33373 Umes Shrestha has been supporting the underground music scene since 2001. He initiated the magazine ktmROCKS in 2004 solely dedicated to the underground metal music.. Though the magazine could not go beyond the 13th issue, it still runs through its official website. Shrestha has been single-handedly running the website and all its official pages. Apart from promoting underground bands and their music through the websites, he is also credited for the bands’ profile photographs.[break] Tomorrow, ktmROCKS is organizing their annual event, IDES of March, to mark the 11th anniversary of the project. The Week’s Asmita Manandhar caught up with Shrestha to talk about the current underground music scene. How would you summarize your experience with underground music? Music always involves passion. But there are different ways to guide the passion; one can be money-driven passion while the other, creativity-driven passion. Underground music, which refers to non-commercial or non-mainstream music, is entirely creativity-driven. There would be no negotiation or compromise on the creativity part for the sake of sponsorship or popular culture. ktmROCKS follows the same philosophy. However, no matter how good you are, it would have made no sense if your music did not garner audience or appreciation. Though underground music is taken as a non-compatible genre of music for mainstream media such as radio or television, the popularity is certainly growing. How has the underground scene evolved in the last 11 years? In the first concert we organized, 250 people attended the gig. We had expected a crowd of around 100 people but when the number increased to more than double, we took it as a huge success. Now, the crowd in the metal concerts has increased to 1,000 to 2,000. Last year in IDES of March, we had 2,500 attendees. There’s been a gradual development and most of it because of the advancement of the Internet. Earlier, there were limited resources for bands before Internet provided the required exposure to the bands to international music and underground scenes. The recording studios have also been improved. There has been significant increase in band numbers, too. There used to be two or three concerts in a year but there are two-three in a month. What prospects do you see for the underground music in Nepal? Money-wise, the prospect for underground music scene is still not good. There isn’t good scenario for mainstream artists in music, so underground music is a far cry. Band members have to get engaged in other different careers. One can’t think of earning a living by just getting involved in underground music scene. Maybe the time and situation may change after 10 years, but for now they will have to look for an alternate career. I suggest them to get engaged in other side jobs or even fulltime professions and take music as a strong hobby. On the other hand, audience appreciation is increasing, which is a positive side. In another 4-5 years, Nepali underground bands will definitely be touring. Underside, an underground band, has already made a trip to Europe. How do you find time to manage ktmROCKS while getting engaged with your professional work? When ktmROCKS was a print edition, we needed a good team. We had to go around taking interviews and photographs of the bands. We needed to find sponsors, take time to convince them. But now Internet facility has freed us from all that hassle. Since now we operate only through website and social media, the job is much easier. I don’t have to work through time pressure. I just give three hours a day for updating the information in the official pages. And I usually take photographs in weekends or in concerts. How do you think is ktmROCKS catering to underground music scene in Nepal? ktmROCKS has been constantly promoting underground bands and their music. We have their interviews; we organize the portfolio shoots for the bands for free. We also have been building connections with other international and South Asian bands. The concerts organized by ktmROCKS have also helped to create an image of Nepal as a touring venue for international bands. I think that’s been our biggest achievement. I strongly believe that if there was no ktmROCKS, the underground scene in Nepal would have been different. The situation we have now is the result of all the efforts we’ve put in for last 11 years. Do you think people’s perception on underground music has changed over the years? People still stereotype according to the outer appearance or the choice of music of the bands. But that’s another reason I suggest band members to have separate careers. The family members will have no problem if the band members are involved with something else, they will have less questions about their interest in music. I can’t say about other people’s perception but in the last 2-3 years, even mainstream media has shown interest in the underground music scene. If the mass media has given space, then there must have a certain portion of readers who have accepted it. What bands do you personally follow? Since I’m involved with most of the underground bands, I don’t want to differentiate some as good and the others as bad. But there will always be some bands that stand out. I like White, their composition and music can challenge the mainstream music, likewise with Jindabaad. Another is Lakhey, it’s amazing the way they incorporate traditional Newar instruments to metal genre. I would also pick Antim Grahan and 11. ktmROCKS is organizing IDES of March tomorrow. What’s in store in for underground music lovers? We’ll have a foreign band for the concert this year. The Bangladeshi band Severe Dementia will take on the stage with other seven Nepali bands. We’re expecting a crowd of 3,000 or more for the gig. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33372 “Chhaka, Nika, Swoka, Pyaka” (Newari for one, two, three, four) – Ashish Maharjan screams into the microphone, followed by an instant boom of fast beats and riffs. The boys of Lakhey band are at practice in the basement of Metal Institute, Ghatte Kulo and their sound is unique.[break] Lakhey, the instrumental band, are Anil Dhital on guitar, Ashish Maharjan on flute and vocal effects, Yuson Maharjan on dhimeh, Rabindra Maharjan on bhusyah, Naresh Prajapati on khin, Gokul Atreya on bass, Sudan Raj Bajracharya on dhyangro, and Ashish Dangol performing as Lakhey, the dancing demon, and Guidoo Wyss of Commando Noise Terror as their guest drummer. Incorporating sounds of more than 15 Nepali/Newar musical instruments ranging from the dhyangro that jhankris (faith healers) play to drive out spirits to kaa and pongraa played during funerals with seven-string guitar riffs and bass, most of the band members take on multiple instruments, creating what they call ethnic metal music. As the band members seat themselves in the room adjacent to their rehearsal room for The Week interview, they cram the small space where Anil teaches his students the ABCs of music. On one wall hangs Goddess Saraswoti’s poster alongside the Ibanez poster that depicts Gods of Guitar from Joe Satriani to Steve Vai. The opposite wall is a white board scribbled with guitar chords and tuition timings. The current ensemble of eight members in the room is a mix of musicians from different bands. Five of them come from Vairabi, a traditional folk music outfit who were lost in the shadows of Kutumba, the band that popularized folk music in recent years. And it was during one of the many concerts of Kutumba that Vairabi discovered their missing element in versatile guitarist Anil Dhital, then on stage with Kutumba. “I first saw Anil dai when he was playing a set with Kutumba at the tattoo convention,” the always eager Rabindra says, “As soon as I saw him perform, I realized that his metal guitar riffs would sync with the aggressive traditional beats we played during Jatras in our hometown Kirtipur.” The youngster then Facebooked Anil to get together and jam up. And because “No” is a rare species when it comes to the world of musicians jamming together, Anil agreed. “I always had this idea of mixing folk with metal,” says Anil in his characteristic casual drawl, “So we got together one free evening. I had some of my own tunes ready, we then played along, and by the end of the session, we knew we had something khatraa (awesome).” Soon they were looking for a name for their joint project and “Lakhey” stood out as they could associate their ethno metal music with furious sounds played during the Jatras with the vibrant dancing demon. A year later, the band members share amicable relationship, always laughing and joking with each other. As they share how they had a full photo shoot with their costumes and masks even before they had a concrete composition, each one has a playful smile curved up his lips. “It did push us to complete what we’d started, though,” says a smiling Anil. For the boys from Vairabi too it was an opportunity to do something new, something innovative and something different. As most of the initial band members came from the Newar town of Kirtipur, Ashish shares, they were passed on the musical traditions by their forefathers and their Guthi where many youngsters were even obliged to take on the responsibility of playing the traditional instruments for the cultural occasions they endorsed for their sheer love of music. “We’ve been playing (traditional instruments) since we were kids,” he says, “We never actually learnt to play these instruments but picked it up as we played along for fun during the several festive occasions and Jatras in our community.” Even while playing traditional beats, the band says, the metallic sounds of the bhusyah and fast drum beats of dhimeh and khin sounded “brutal” to them, they say. The gennext couldn’t help but associate it with the metal music many of their friends and themselves were listening to. “Many traditional music compositions, especially the ones played during Lakhey dance, with the aggressive tunes evoking a sense of fear and fright are very similar to the musical patterns of metal music,” says Rabindra, “As we delved deeper, it was like we already had metal pioneers playing the fast paced musical patterns way before Metallica.” That’s where Lakhey stemmed from – the roots of traditional music that was already there and infused it with contemporary metal essence. For skeptics who believe that metal is a recent phenomena in Nepali music, Lakhey brings to light the existence of metal in Nepali music roots. And it’s only Newar music the band has mostly explored which still leaves the potential of many different tribal music of Nepal untapped. Gokul, the newest band member, adds, “It was tiring to see every other young band doing covers of the same old international metal bands. There wasn’t any originality. With Lakhey, I think we’re definitely setting a different track.” With their single titled “Lakhey” that they released on the Internet just past New Year, they’ve already created a fan base for themselves. In the very first listening, from the eerie guitar intro to the crashing sounds of dhimeh, khin and ghungroo with piercingly sharp flute parts scattered throughout the track, the music leaves you with a haunting feeling that reverberates in the mind. A year since the first jam session, Lakhey boasts seven completed compositions, most still untitled. Their plan now is to release an EP within a few months and follow up with an album. Very selective about their gigs, the band hasn’t yet played at major rock concerts. “Because we have many band members, we need more sound gears, and moreover, the costumes and some masks we use are original Lakhey items of Kirtipur. So there’s a lot of logistics involved,” says Rabindra. However, fully prepared and practicing daily, the band is all excited about their debut at Ides of March [Readers, the gig is tomorrow]. In the practice room, the excitement and the readiness is even more apparent not just in their furious sounds but also in their ecstatic faces, wild heads banging, body jerks, jumps, screeches and screams. Playing in a circle, all the while the boys pick up on each other’s cue, keeping pace with each other. And their Anil dai has all sorts of facial expressions, from creased brows to wide open eyes and crooked smiles to signal them exactly where they need to work on to sound perfect for their debut gig and an awaiting future in global metal. Lakhey awakens tomorrow, Saturday, March 31 to the Nepali metal scene with their debut performance at Ides of March in Bhrikuti Mandap. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33371 Severe Dementia, a death metal band from Bangladesh, is headlining the event, Ides of March, organized by ktmROCKS on Saturday. Formed in January 2007, the current lineup of the band consists of Saimum Hasan Nahian on guitars, Ahmed Shawki on vocal, Raef al Hasan (Rafa) on drums, Hythum Morales on guitars, and Kawser Ahmed Pervez on bass.[break] The band has already released their EP called “Epitaph of Plassey” in a split album, “Rise of the Eastern Blood,” in 2007. They also toured India the same year and became the first ever underground band of Bangladesh to perform outside their country. The Week caught up with the four members of Severe Dementia to talk about their band and the underground music scene: How has the underground band evolved in Bangladesh? Hythum: You can always say it’s growing but it’s different how it’s been evolving in Bangladesh and other parts of South Asia. The influence is growing but there are very few gigs for the bands to perform. Nahian: In Bangladesh, Rafa’s first band Dripping Gore formed in 2002 can be termed as the initiators of Death Metal music. I was heavily influenced by that band to form a band of my own. I’ve seen them as a fan, and they were the most fast-paced band at the time. Rafa: There was already a scene in Heavy Metal but  Extreme Metal bands were still lacking. Dripping Gore replaced that void in Bangladesh. It was the beginning to defy the conventional style of covering popular mainstream bands and was always out of the box. But there were very few people in the audience actually enjoying the music. Shawki: Though they didn’t continue as a band, it was successful in influencing people like us. And I think, after Dripping Gore, we’re the ones continuing the genre of music they had started. How would you like to see the scene change in your country? Nahian: One basic problem in our country is that we don’t have venues for underground gigs to take place. We have many good open air venues for mainstream but very less for underground music scene. Another problem is that we lack organizers solely dedicated to underground music scene, like ktmROCKS in Nepal. Rafa: I believe that maybe it’s because of the fewer number of extreme metal bands. If the number of underground bands increases, there will be more following. You toured India in 2007. How do you recollect your experience of touring outside your country for the first time? Nahian: It was a great experience. We headlined two gigs in India and it was there we released our EP, “Epitaph of Plassey.” It was good to see the audience excited about our album and they were buying it. It was a crazy experience of performing in front of 400-500 head bangers. Rafa: We were the first band to tour outside of our country but we hadn’t planned in achieving anything as such. We did our work, we did the shows and it was only after the show we found out that people loved banging their heads to our music. That was a huge confidence booster for the band. So what are your feelings about headlining Ides of March in Nepal? Nahian: I did some research from the ktmROCKS photographs and they showed a pretty good picture of the scene going on here. So I would say that my expectations are pretty high from the Nepali crowd. Shawki: I did a bit of my research, too, and I’m looking forward to the gig. I have a feeling that we’re going to have an amazing experience. Hythum: This is my first in Nepal. And I didn’t get into research because I like to be taken by surprise. Have you followed the Nepali underground music scene? Nahian: I’ve downloaded all the songs of Antim Grahan. Other bands I have yet to discover. Rafa: Actually, I’m not here just to perform. I’m here to watch the entire gig, to know the Nepali underground scene. What inspires your lyrics and compositions? Rafa: For the EP, it was Nahian’s idea. He came up with the songs that described the Battle of Plassey when the Bengal Nawab lost to the British. The design of the album was theme-based. And since then, we kind of found the track to composing songs with similar ideas. Nahian: Our later songs are basically inspired by death, torture and mythology. We’ve been exploring Sumerian mythology in our latest compositions. Hythum: Our lyrics and composition are like creating a movie but through music. After releasing an EP, touring India and now in Nepal, what are your future ventures? Nahian: We’re working on a full-length album which we plan to release this year. We have already released a single from that album. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33370 This week I began testing the new OSX Mountain Lion, which is Apple’s next incarnation of cat that powers your Apple computer (Snow Leopard or Lion, most likely), and one glaring aspect popped out at me at the end of this grueling session: not much changed.[break] It’s like the biggest software giants on the planet are producing innovations in interface design (the part of the programming that we see) about as fast as a snail can run. I don’t get it. Companies like Apple and Microsoft have armies of programmers at their disposal, and they literally are forces, with chains of command and rigid protocols, most marching lock-step to commands communicated through Wall Street. Instead of sweeping changes warranted by the sale of almost uncountable smartphones, tablets and computers, we get different colored icons or gestures on screens that we can’t touch, but look like it would be cool if we could. Changes to both Apple’s OSX and Microsoft’s Windows 8 are miniscule if compared to the changes that “could be” done. And this small amount of change every few years is inexplicable, even for someone as myself, who spent over a decade building IBM screens that once faced millions. I can’t imagine what they are thinking now, all those youngsters in Redmond and Cupertino. Do they think that “we as users” like having so many passwords that we need software to manage them? Do they think that we actually enjoy searching through billions of web pages just to read the news in the morning? Do programmers imagine that we are satisfied with our sorting through millions of files just to find a baby picture of Uncle? No, they can’t be that cruel...programmers can’t be to blame. They must be like soldiers during war, the lowly Private First Classes, who want to end the insanity, but are powerless to do so. They are just fodder for the cannon – and ultimately expendable. At IBM, I felt sad for the lot of us. It has to be a group dynamic – the larger the group, the more professional, the more funded, the more potential –the less is actually produced as far as radically new approaches go. Corps are conservative by nature. For example, after three generations of software development, OS screens look like any other, and don’t really invite us in, or allude to any chance of having a good time. Coming from dorm rooms and out of backroom parties is where the masses really get something that they like to play with and use. Facebook and Zynga have figured out how to capture our attention and eyeballs, where they stay glued to screens for hours on end. This is something that not even cold hard cash will draw us away from – it is a virtual heroin. We need it more than a shower – this just in from a major US Poll. What is on our screens is terribly important to us, even if the Help click is totally useless, who cares – we want the juice, without squeezing very hard. But for us old [BLEEPS], we’ve seen Apple do a Cityville 18 years ago when they rolled out eWorld, which cost US$8.95 per month for a semi-social service that ran between June 1994 and March 1996. It looked like my city in Cityville (a deserted outpost) or my dead farm in Farmville. eWorld never did evolve ‘cause along came AOL (You’ve Got Mail) and eWorld imploded into dust in a tech instant. So goes the software industry, one second you are MySpace, the next you are lost in the space-time continuum of commerce, ready to reappear via the butterfly effect, or so it seems. But Cityville is eWorld done better, decades later and for free. What eWorld wanted to do back then (when the mobile phone was no smaller than a brick) was to create the illusion that your computer screen was something from real life, tied to your life, and ready to become your personal assistant, or friend, or TV, or whatever you wanted the little beige box to be. Then the Internet gave our screens even more personality, it gave us real people, live or in pictures and video (much of it illegal or distasteful) – we love it! But unfortunately, all our operating system’s interfaces (like Windows XP) just give us headaches and indecipherable error messages – complete with blue screens of death! We don’t get what we want, which was a virtual world designed by ourselves, and that is easy and fun to use – with lots of different things to do. Granted, what you look at today on computer screens is an improvement over what we had 20 years ago, but do we have the patience to wait for something really cool, like an Apple Cityville on Steroids, in essence, a virtual reality computer portal built by the user? Or is waiting 18 months for a blinking icon that tells us it’s mom’s birthday really blazing the way forward? I don’t think so. Large dysfunctional families can produce a lot of rotten children, and we have seen our share, tech-wise. MS Vista will remain one of the most retarded in software development, and was quickly replaced by something less disappointing – Windows 7 – working but looking pretty much the same as before. And as OSX Lion is about to become the next Vista, shoved under the corporate carpet just a year or so after release, we are going to be left with abstract interfaces that are mediocre at best, especially when compared to real-world interfaces. We are also left knowing interfaces could be better, but who will make them so? http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33369 Do you have a photo or many of them that you are embarrassed of? I do. Have you ever torn or burnt a photo or many of them? I have. Come to think of it, it must have been a gross act of a teenager, with no direction home or anywhere, to be precise, to do so but the way the fire gobbled up the photos with its bluish yellow flames, slowly turning them into ash one Saturday afternoon some twelve years back still trigger fresh in my mind.[break] Because I have seen myself burn in them. My innocent sad little face being gobbled up by the fire. I can’t really say why I did it. I look back but still there are no answers. I tried to. And now I have looked back so much. So much into the void that I feel the void looks back into me. A few of the photos that remain, which my heart could not come to terms with to put to fire or tear into bits of paper are stacked in the bookrack alongside college-level science textbooks that I never got around with. And there are more photos from the high school days that make me question, “Is that me?” and there are the childhood photos, where my otherwise spiky hair has been ironed out because the night before, mother carefully put me to sleep with a topi on a warm summer night. And the lights would go off instantly. Darkness was an early friend. An early comfort in my life. Closing in thirty in a year and the void that arrives as the sun sets is a powerful feeling. I am talking about the night and the knight I am of Kathmandu, where scavenger dogs chase lone riders, where taxi drivers cue up for trips outside hospitals, when drunken heroes and their heroines are looking for their wai-wai and boiled eggs and a last puff for the road, or if lucky, smuggle in an unusually high-priced whiskey bottle to hit on the rocks before they hit the sack as loner traffic policemen in deserted major hubs of cities carry dot pens and registers, logging vehicular movement while homeless people scavenge KFC and five-star hotel waste bins. Hiding from the police then are the night street food vendors, desperate for some business to support their living. In scattered zones, young innocent girls come out of hotels and go into other hotels. And pimps and valley denizens negotiate cheap deals as heaps of paper are fed into the machine to print tomorrow’s party line while, all along, Kathmandu’s streets transform into runaway for LGBTIs. What else must be on stage in unknown territories as the Bagmati River responds to the unusual heat of March with nose-burning stench? There are no photos of the Kathmandu I know. Pity, I can’t even burn them or tear into pieces. As streets make way for pasteurized milk packs and newspapers, I am on the road but I am stopping by Prasuti Griha, where a bunch of policemen are braving the chill of the darkness and the brunt of their duties. One more day in Kathmandu, I toast with a cup of tea – Rang kada, chini kum. Arpan tweets @arpan_shrestha http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33368 The joint family I grew up in was a small universe of its own with around twenty permanent residents and five or more guests all year round. Our extended family included two cows, some pigeons and a host of birds like sparrows, mynahs, jurelis (bulbul), spiny babblers who nested in wide varieties of trees around our house, while crows, cuckoos and some unexpected exotic birds perched on the branches on their way to somewhere.[break] I consider them family because they are integral part of my memory of home. The list also includes some not so welcome guests like stray dogs (I didn’t mind their intrusion if they weren’t morbid or dirty), cats and, sometimes, hair-raising creatures like mongoose and snakes. Amid mooing and mewing, chirping and crowing and gentle rustle of leaves, went laughter, gossips, stories from old times about old folks, dead and alive, and nonstop chatters of us siblings and our friends from the neighborhood. Our home, no doubt, was the most happening place in the locality. With so many people around, you never had to wait for a reason to guffaw at. The way somebody dressed up or did their hairs, the way someone bungled at something or the incessant dose of heady gossips, anything could set off bouts of hysterical laughter. My father has three siblings, a brother and two sisters, all of them older than him. Of the two sisters, the older one, whom we affectionately call Thuldidi, is jolly, while the younger, Sandidi, is judgmental. Thuldidi is a master storyteller full of gossips and Sandidi, while no less a storyteller herself, is good at summarizing the morals of the stories and, most importantly, passing verdicts. Thuldidi likes to laugh things away, but Sandidi loves to nail things down – that’s that. For example, if Thuldidi narrated a story of someone’s daughter-in-law who had a laspas (affair) with some man, Sandidi would be quick to say: what would you expect from a woman whose husband is a drunkard and mother-in-law a hardnosed bitch. Both of them looked cutest when they tried to speak English. “Yo TV kina killor chhaina han?” Thuldidi would say, which Sandidi corrected quickly: Killor hoina ta mori, keeleeor po ta! Both of them have endured a lot: early marriage, loss of husbands and myriad family crises over the years. But you can tell from their demeanor and the way they go about their everyday lives that they are just as happy-go-lucky as those women who have never had to weather any of the hardships. Their attitude flies in the face of our highfaluting approach to dealing with our lives and its problems. At home, we celebrated every festival in the calendar and family events in full jest. But no festivities would ever be jubilant in the absence of one of the sisters. Thuldidi would take charge of the kitchen, toil there for hours and emerge out of it only after everything was done. The number of guests didn’t matter – 20, 50 or 100 – she could handle it all. Sandidi, on the other hand, led the choir of women singing traditional songs. She had extraordinary memory and recalled songs she had heard long, long ago. What was more intriguing was her ability to make impromptu dohori songs that described human feelings or certain situations. But now age has taken its toll on both of them. Though I have not met them for a long time, I hear that Thuldidi has a back problem, which means she can no longer prepare delicious sel rotis and alu-matarko achar for us. Sandidi, I know, has diabetes which, in her own words, has been eating away her memory and making her head spin. Last time when I met her and asked to sing a song, she struggled to complete the lines, stumbled quite a few times before finally giving up. Even as age tries to push them to oblivion, I am sure these two ordinary women will never fade away from the memory of all those who were part of the joint family that made up our small universe because their joie de vivre and simple yet remarkable ways have left strong impressions on our minds. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33367 “How do you cope with the poverty?” That must be the question I have been asked most frequently by visitors to India. I often reply, “I don’t have to. The poor do.” It’s certainly true. I live a very comfortable life in Delhi, while the taxi-drivers who have lived opposite me for fourteen years have to sleep in their cars in the cold winter and on a charpai or light bedstead in the open during the hot weather. [break]I have a three bed-roomed flat. The taxi rank is their home. My foreign guests expect the taxi-drivers to take them back to the hotels whatever hours of the night it may be. Before leaving they will check the fare with me to make sure the taxi-drivers don’t get a few more rupees than they are due. That is the way my guests usually “cope with the poverty.” From the Introduction to “No Full Stops in India” by [Sir] Mark Tully This is one of the most powerful paragraphs I have ever read. I have this passion for promoting philanthropy and time and again I usually talk about social change and how and what we can do to promote positive changes in the society. These lines as you can see, strongly depicts human hypocrisy. People love to talk about poverty, they love to talk about change but people just refrain when it comes to actually taking money out of their own pockets. This is exactly what Mark Tully is trying to portray from the lines. Most of the people who come to India including Tully’s friends ask him about how he copes with poverty. But after his friends have a nice dinner and drinks, while they return, they make sure that they don’t waste a single penny by giving it to the taxi drivers who spend their nights in the taxi itself. Stating such a condition, the writer is mocking them and the lines come out as a satire to them. As that is how they cope with poverty. The lines really touched me as it ironically depicts human pretense. It also talks about how it is important to maintain a balance between what you say and what you do and enforces the idea of how one should practice what they preach. This is the core essence that the writer is trying to express. I always talk about two things, one is practical philanthropy and other is philanthropic journalism. Talking about practical philanthropy, not all people can be as great as Mother Teresa or some people cannot spend their whole life serving others. But common people like us can separate a small portion of our regular earnings to help those who are less fortunate. It is of course not good to cheat or be cheated but the taxi drivers which Tully mentions in his book are poor people in India. So it doesn’t make a huge difference if they are cheating a meager amount to feed their families. When people are poor they don’t have an option and we would have done the same if we were to be in their shoes. Well-off people like Tully’s friends shouldn’t bother too much about such a situation if it is going to support someone else to survive. You cannot expect sincerity and honesty from people who are finding it hard to have even one decent meal. It is therefore partly our responsibility to support such people and this is what Tully is exactly trying to express. About Mishra A writer, practical philanthropist and also a philanthropic journalist, Mishra is currently the head of the BBC Nepali Service. Very articulate and precise about his beliefs, writing has always been a passion for him. “My father being a painter and an artist, the kind of home environment that I was brought up in also encouraged me to venture into writing,” says Mishra. He is also the founder of entirely voluntarily run global charity, HELP NEPAL Network: One Dollar a Month Fund for Nepal, a global charity which runs on voluntary basis. Mishra is also the author of the book on political and social commentaries, Bhumadhyarekha. He has the experience of working on all platforms of journalism that includes print, radio, television and online. A strong advocate of philanthropic journalism, Mishra says he is trying to connect philanthropy with journalism because he believes that the core value of journalism is public service. “But the kind of journalism that we have been practicing for decades, not only in Nepal but throughout the world, does not fulfill the idea of public service. We just talk about disasters, deaths, political wrangling and all of those negative aspects of the society.” So he thinks that there are lots of good things happening in the society and we need to encourage that. “I think all major newspapers should have philanthropic beats and reporters who should do stories that will create positive vibes in the society,” says Mishra. His recent book “Khana Pugos, Dina Pugos” will also be out in the market soon. Mishra’s five picks The Life You Can Save by Peter Singer Singer is an Australian professor of Bioethics. However, he has written lots of books on ethical values and on how we can make the society better by being more generous. The Life You Can Save is basically about ethical values and how can one save someone else’s life. It doesn’t take much to do something kind like that as all it takes is the willingness to do it. The author also practices practical philanthropy as he separates certain percentage of his earnings to help those who cannot help themselves. I can relate myself to his books and I also get inspiration from his writings. Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water Before I Die by Maya Angelou Maya Angelou is an African American author who has written numerous poems, essays, autobiographies, among others. I like her writings because poetry is usually a very complex thing and lots of people find it difficult to understand it. Despite being one of the most powerful poets, she expresses things in such simple yet powerful manners. This book of hers is a collection of poems and I really like the first poem, “They went home.” Ghumne Mechmathi Andho Manchhe by Bhupi Sherchan When your writing doesn’t exude some kind of power, then it fails to grasp the readers and they don’t remember much of it. Writing should touch your heart or mind and if it can touch both, then I call that the most successful and powerful writing. Sherchan is that kind of writer who has really touched my soul and mind. This book of his, including others, are so simple but full of depth, intellect and power. Creating A World Without Poverty by Mohammad Yunus Yunus is from Bangladesh and is a Noble Peace Prize Laureate for establishing the Grameen bank in his effort to create economic and social development. In this book, he talks about how to use business socially. Social business is close to social entrepreneurship and he talks about how in this capitalistic world, we can use business to actually eradicate poverty. Social business is not just about making profit only but making modest profits and giving it back to the society as well so that the poor people can also benefit. The Third Way by Anthony Giddens Giddens is one of Britain’s leading academics. In The Third Way, he talks about how you can combine the best of capitalism and communism. It talks about social democracy and compassionate socialism. The third way is primarily related to politics but also related to the core values of the society. As told to Nistha Rayamajhi http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33366 Dustbins: They make for ideal gifts. “Eewws! and aaahs!” swirl over this theory of mine. I often have people questioning how I would feel if someone gave me a dustbin for my birthday; and while I understand that dustbins don’t necessarily make for the most romantic surprise, I say they sure do make for a wonderful one – in that dustbins are both useful and practical, not to mention that dustbins as gifts is a pretty innovative thing.[break] I must confess that this theory is not my own. I actually heard Abhay Deol mention how he thought dustbins would make for great gifts in one of his interviews quite some time ago, and ever since then, I’ve been a strong reinforcer of the theory. If you really get into it, then you might agree with me when I say that all other gift ideas seem to have been exhausted and barely seem to qualify as something “creative.” So our endless pursuit for an original idea seems rather futile when everything has been so hyper-commodified. And in such a scenario, I can’t help but feel that dustbins may be the solution for they are not the kind of thing that would be on the top of one’s mind to give as presents, yet they are precisely the thing that everyone can derive utility value from. Think about it. While passing by a road, or even in our own houses, I’m sure we’ve had moments where we feel like we don’t have enough dustbins. This thought crosses my mind at least a few times a day when I’m out and about and going about my business. I pick up so many random things along the way that sometimes I just wish I could make a dustbin appear out of sheer need. Especially in places like Kathmandu that does try and make up for an actual dustbin by placing those green, tin containers around some of the more “posh” areas of the city, the effort to put dustbins should be made double. I say this, concerned by the kinds of dustbins we have in town – it seems like there should be a dustbin for a dustbin in Kathmandu for they all look filthy to me. They look as if they have the capacity to contaminate just by going near it. But it’s not just the dustbins, or the lack of it, in the streets that are of concern to me. Also worth dwelling upon are how many dustbins we have in our houses and how we make use of them. Most houses I visit seem to have dustbins in the kitchen, for example, but not in the living room or common room. Sure, a kitchen absolutely needs a dustbin, but I think it would be much more convenient in the common room as well. And if you’re following my argument, then what I’m hinting at is that we should have a dustbin in every single room and bathroom in the house. And if such a need is created, then this means that there are more chances that your chosen gift – dustbins – will be widely accepted and appreciated. Moreover, if you, like me, just browse through the home and décor section for any departmental store, then you’ll notice the array of dustbins that have come up to cater to every kind of need. But for the more fanciful, the option of handpicking and customizing your dustbin is always open, of course. The best part about this is that whether you pick an angry-bird dustbin or a plain old, regular plastic dustbin, they are something everyone can use. Unlike gifting somebody, say perfume, which they might not necessarily like but will be forced to use, dustbins are something that everybody needs, thereby rejecting the possibility of the person not wanting it or not liking it. Indeed, dustbins are a practical thing to give. And if anyone should be insulted by such a gift, then we know that they don’t capture the whole “go-green” spirit very well. Besides, what else could be there that could serve a more frivolous, if I may, purpose and at the same time contribute to the greater good? So go ahead and gift the next birthday-approaching person an environment friendly gift and see how it lights up his face. In case there is a reason for dissatisfaction, then you at least have the option to lecture him on the importance of being an environmentally conscious citizen. The value of that knowledge alone should make for a great gift. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33365 The sweetness of doing nothing UJJWALA MAHARJAN “Il dolce far niente” – Italian for “The sweetness of doing nothing.” My friend/sister/colleague loves this mantra and I love the expression that takes over her face every time she enunciates these words – a smile of contentment and the look of having spoken something wise. Last weekend, she and I and some other friends were at The Last Resort savoring every bit of the blissful sweetness. Lying down on the comfortable mats and cushions at the bar lounge, eyes closed, thinking about nothing in particular – no story ideas, no interview appointments, no chores, no errands to run – just letting our minds roam into all corners of the universe, unrestrained. One moment you are listening to yourself breathe and the other moment you are trying to recall a conversation you and your friend had a long time back; then you are playing a song in your head over and over again and the next you have slipped into a balmy sleep. Lying down and soaking up the sun in the lazy afternoons and feeling your body and mind unwind is one of the best feeling in the world. After some untracked minutes of the soothing siesta, I decided to take a walk – my other favorite thing in the world. Walking barefoot with the cool stone slabs and soft soil beneath your feet, listening to the wind and feasting on the greenery and beautiful full blooms – a stroke of nature like that definitely rejuvenates your dull soul. Back at the lounge again, as I watched my friends lost behind those serene closed eyelids, their bodies curved and rested on the mats like feathers landing from wandering flights, it hit me how wonderful a thing is rest. And so I gave in again and drifted besides those warm bodies shifting to make room for me. Il dolce far niente – I smiled as I closed my eyes and breathed in the pleasure of doing nothing. Ujjwala tweets @UjjwalaMaharjan My assistant: My Daddy DearestCILLA KHATRY He calls me brat, and rightly so. Brat in my dictionary stands for Brilliant Rich and Talented but that’s another story altogether. It all started from the day I could talk. He didn’t like me calling him “hajur” and insisted that I use “timi” while talking to him. He became a friend instantly and a friend I started depending on for every little thing in life. When I was little, he used to buy me lunch and take me to school and then bring me strawberry pastries from a bakery near his clinic after work. If he forgot one day, he would bring me something extra the next day to compensate for it. Today, he still does all the little things I could do myself but am too lazy to take on. From fixing my wristwatch straps, broken rings to washing my scooter and refueling my car, he does it all. Sometimes I wonder if he silently gets mad at me but can’t say anything because I am, after all, the only daughter he has got, and therefore, the love of his life. But then a creature of habit, I never change and so I leave him little notes with instructions on what needs to be done. And let me tell you, they have never been requests. More like orders that have to be fulfilled. Today, as I left another note on his desk before leaving for work, I started questioning myself as to when he went from being a parent to being an assistant. Maybe I started taking the parental affection for granted or maybe I have just been pampered too much. Way too much. But I know what I have asked him to do (which is to fix yet another broken ring, in case you are curious) will be done by the time I get home. My excuse is that I work a lot and have too many things on my plate but I also know for a fact that he works a lot harder than I do. When I think of “Dr Subarna Khatry,” what comes to my mind is a man who will move the heavens and earth for me and that is precisely why he has become my most trusted assistant today. It is not that I don’t love or respect him or that I have been spoiled beyond repair. Just that he is the one person I know who will never let me down. He is the person I draw my strength from as I carry on with my hectic schedules. But as he runs about fulfilling my wishes, I think he has forgotten that. Someday I will find a way to remind him but that does not mean I will stop ordering him around because the fact that he is my pillar of strength does not change the other fact that he has become, like it or not, my assistant. Cilla tweets @cillakhatry Adjust garau na ta !ASMITA MANANDHAR During a conversation with a German friend who is an undergraduate student at a Nepali university, she said that the greatest curse and boon in the Nepali system is adjustment. I usually get my ears pointed when my expat friend’s comment about Nepal because I have figured out that it is their way of indirectly commenting about you. Well, my expression must have implied clearly—“Explain.” So she went into details about her own experiences. She hated it when she missed the parties and studied throughout the night for an exam the next morning, to know that it has been postponed because other students were busy partying the night before. But at the same time, she was allowed to complete a course from another department in her convenience. Her remarks sparked a twitch in my head. My mind brought back all the adjustments I had been witnessing or that we were obliged to make. From school students having to adjust with limited or no library or laboratories and sportspersons adjusting with not-so-good trainings or equipments, Nepali people have mastered the skills of adjustment. The delays in process in government offices, the state of fuel scarcity, everything. And now our politicians have decided to test the people’s adjustment mastery by fiddling with the Constitution drafting process for the umpteenth time. With all these meanderings in my head, I was waiting for a microbus to get back home. In the evening rush, I could find no vehicle with empty seats. There, how can one forget, the adjustment with poor service of public transportation. Just then, a microbus stopped in front of me; no seats again. But the driver pointed to a small vacant space as other passengers were made to shift to the sides. I still wasn’t so sure. Then the driver insisted, “Baini, adjust garnu na! (Sister, adjust somehow).” As I tried fitting myself into the small space, to my surprise, I fit perfectly in, or let’s say, I adjusted perfectly! Asmita tweets @framesandlaces A friend in need, indeed!!NISTHA RAYAMAJHI Time and again, my sister tells me that when I was born, our parents always used to tell her, “Wait till she grows up, because later you guys will be the best of friends.” At that point of time, my sister, who was a child herself, did not really understand the real meaning of what they were trying to say. As the years passed, we could not agree more with what our parents had once told us. I have always looked up to my sister, be it for suggestions or if I just needed company. There are times when we fight for even the silliest of things and try hard to make up for it later. Eventually, even the serious fights that we have turn out to be hilarious. The thing is we cannot do without talking to each other. The fun part is when exchanging stuffs, we bargain only to swap things under a condition and then break the laws in the absence of each other. Those who have a sister would know what I am talking about. Though she is my elder sister, there are times when people have even commented on us being twins. Then we do hear remarks as, ‘Oh! You don’t look the same at all.’ Besides the looks department, our interests are somewhat similar, too. There are even times when we think about the same thing at the same time, and just by exchanging a look we understand what we are thinking. It is amazing how well we click. The best part, however, is getting to share anything and everything without being judged. Yes, you get that benefit if you have a sibling, and for me it is even much better because I have a sister. And I know that she is someone whom I can count on, no matter what. She is my best friend, my mentor, my well wisher, my guardian and everything that I can think of. My sister says that we cannot live with each other nor can we live without each other. But we definitely complement each other. My mom now tells me “Later in life, your sister will be like your mother.” And I really can so relate to what she is trying to say. Nistha tweets @Nisthaz http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33379 “People normally think that beauty queens are very choosy about their foods and diets, but I believe there’s no harm to indulge sometimes,” says Anupama Aura Gurung, Miss Nepal 1st Runner-up 2011. She advises to have everything and anything, but in the right proportions.[break] She remembers when she had to cook for the first time in her secondary school. “I had taken food and nutrition class and the final test required us to cook a full meal. Then I took a crash course in cooking from my mom,” she says. She likes to describe herself as a compulsive cook as she lays her hands on cooking only when she really needs to. “I cook fried noodles after my best friends and I come home from Friday night-outs, as I can’t wake anyone up at home at midnight,” she says with a good smile. Although she confesses that she seldom cooks, her mother praises her cooking sense. Gurung agrees with her mom, “I never had a disastrous cooking. I cook less often but whenever I do, it turns out to be good.” Food is a good means for Gurung to lift up her mood when she is feeling real low. She chooses pastries as her comfort food. But when asked if she has ever tried baking one herself, she comes with a witty answer, “When there are so many good ones that can be bought easily, why put in all the effort?” She does not prefer foods which are complicated or difficult to cook. “I prefer simple foods that are relevant to people from all walks of life. And when simple traditional foods can bring joy to people, it’s pointless for people to try to impress with international cuisines,” she opines. She is involved with the NGO Smile Nepal which works for feeding street children. So, when she served Aloo-Puri and chicken wings for The Week, she said she had chosen them because she thought of the kids when she made it. “You should see them smile when we take puri or chicken. One might say these are simple foods but it’s equally valuable and priceless.” Aloo-Puri Ingredients Potatoes: 5 pieces Chopped tomatoes: 5 pieces Sunflower oil: ½ liter Salt: 1½ tbsp Turmeric powder: ½ tbsp Cumin powder: ½ tbsp Chili powder: ½ tbsp Water: 1½ cup Garlic: 2 pieces Fenugreek: some Coriander leaves: some All-purpose flour: 2 cups Methods For Aloo: • First take the potatoes and boil them in a pressure cooker • After 10 minutes, take the potatoes out from the cooker and peel the skin when cold • Cut the potatoes into cubes • Heat sunflower oil in a frying pan • Add few fenugreeks in the pan and let them turn dark brown • Add garlic after that and after it turns brown, add chilies to the oil • Then, add tomatoes in the pan and stir it till they simmer down • Add the chopped boiled potatoes to the mixture • Now add salt and turmeric powder and stir the mixture gently • Add coriander leaves for garnish For Puri: • Put flour in a bowl and knead it with water • Divide the dough into equal portions, roughly the size of a golf ball and roll them evenly till you have a smooth circle • Meanwhile, heat ½ liters of oil in a pan • Fry the round puris in the heated oil • Now serve the aloo and puri on a platter Chicken Wings Ingredients Chicken wings: 10 pieces Special Kentucky seasoning: 3 tablespoons Soy sauce: 1 tablespoon Sunflower oil: ½ liter Method • Marinate the chicken wings in the mixture of special Kentucky seasoning, soy sauce and water • Heat oil in a pan • Deep-fry the chicken in the heated oil • Keep frying the chicken till all sides of it are cooked properly • Let the excess oil dry up before you serve it with tomato ketchup or chutney http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33136 It is dawn. A ritualistic slow-pace stroll out of a rented room in Tebahal, then he takes a break to savor the hot cup of sugar-intense tea at a local joint. For this 66-year-old, this is as leisurely as it can get, and he will wind down as much as he can before a hectic day weighs him down. The next nine hours will burden Mohan Sharma’s back, get him out of breath and give him a gastritis attack but he is not giving up anytime soon or the tea either.[break] If survival tactics in Kathmandu were to be a workshop topic, Sharma would be the moderator. Over the years, he has trained himself as a specialist porter, carrying sand, gravel, furniture and what not. He currently serves at Shruti Stores as gas cylinder deliveryman.  And he will do it the hard way. He will push himself and his limits one more day. To earn his daily wage, to support his daughter’s education and to send money back home, the man will do what he’s got to do. He is frail but he is determined. Retirement is nowhere near. Business is abuzz at 10 am in Tebahal. Clusters of areas like Tebahal with their narrow lanes shape up the backbone of the New Road malls, the central business hub of Kathmandu where the goods delivery system is mad, if not chaotic enough. And people like Sharma who migrate to the capital for better opportunities have a special role to play amidst the cacophony. And at Shruti Stores that sells kitchenware, our man from Dhading has been on-the-dot for the past seven years. “I’ve been doing this as long as I remember and I am quite used to it. I think I’ve been capable of doing it and have been faring well so far,” says Sharma who enjoys his life in little sips of tea. There is no time to make conversation and business ticks as time. Sharma knows his job well – get the gas cylinder off the store and out on the main street, lug it up his shoulders and deliver it on the client’s doorstep. On an average, Sharma will deliver some 13 gas cylinders and he will push himself to even supply clients as far as Basantpur. He has his daily life wrinkled up in his face, swollen and rough in his hands, knees that sink deeper and in a voice that is timid. “You can’t survive without working. So as long as your body allows you to, one has to work. I don’t think much is going to change about the situation of downtrodden and poor people like us. So it’s better to just carry on working without thinking much.” A fresh gas cylinder weighs some 30kgs. The delivery of this fossil fuel that assures Kathmandu’s kitchens up and running is no easy job, and more so for the 66-year-old. One can only imagine the wear and tear his back goes through each time he stoops, gathers his strength to lift and adjust the cylinder up on his back. And if that is not enough, he has to catwalk the back alleys of New Road as the human traffic dodges bikes, carts and occasional cars that dare cause nuisance with their arrival. Each delivery grants Sharma a break as he reports back to the store. He will have to make every delivery count. Life has changed for Sharma. The calm and serenity of his village life has been replaced by a fast-pace metropolis. It is cut-throat competition now. All this happened one day out of whim in 1992. Peer pressure and city life curiosity persuaded him to explore opportunities in a capital that was high on newfound democracy and free market. In his New Nepal, an uneducated Sharma’s only option was to be a bhariya (porter) on daily wage. “Who wouldn’t want to stay close to his family? I was lured to move to the capital because that was the only choice I had to sustain my family. Growing rice on just the little piece of land I own wasn’t enough,” says Sharma who first started as a wage laborer on a construction site. Living life on wage at his age and that too in the capital city is no joke. For Sharma, the recent shortage of gas cylinders in the market hit him direly. There was no business. “I have to earn on a daily basis and I can’t afford to survive without working. Moreover, it’s tough as my work is unpredictable. I can’t just be reassured thinking that I’ll make this much per day.” Working 10 to 7, delivering gas cylinders, and if he can pull it and if lucky to make some extra dough, he will even deliver kitchen appliances. On an average, the breadwinner of his family makes some Rs 250 to 300 a day. “But that totally depends on the number of load that I get to carry. Sometimes, I make less than that,” sweats the inconspicuous member of the Tebahal business community who makes it a point to send Rs. 2,000 to Rs. 3,000 home every month. But life is hard despite his 21-year-old son also contributing to the family. “Sunil gave up studies to be a street vendor, and from what he earns selling clothes, it’s not enough to sustain ourselves and there’s the rent and I have to also support my daughter’s education. She’s in high school.” The constant struggle to support his family is what drives the man to do what he does and away from home. For the family man that he is, this is perhaps life’s biggest turnoff. Living together is just not economically viable, but the couple and their four children live strongly in kinship. “I just got lost with the life here and settled here for good. I do miss my family but I have no other option,” laments Sharma who visits home at least once a year with two of his children who stay with him. In Dhading then, the family gets together. Siblings reconnect among themselves and with their parents who will meet again if Sharma can afford to, or if his life partner visits the capital for her eye checkups. “Such is life. You have to do what you have to do, and you can’t escape, can you?” the man moves on, braving emotional turbulences and the closed chapters of his life. This then is the working life of Mr. Mohan Sharma, originally a farmer from Dhading but presently the Tebahal Porter of Kathmandu – since 1992! http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33135 Sujan Maharjan, 18, says he’s been collecting books since his class five days. He didn’t have any siblings to pass them down to. And giving them away to junk for a few Rupees was not a way he would choose to part with his cherished collection. “The books were a valuable part of my life,” says Maharjan. “Junk is definitely not where they belong.”[break] Then a few months ago while surfing facebook, he found a page called Bookmandu – a campaign to collect, distribute and reuse old books. After going through its information he immediately caught up with Suman Khatiwada, 23, the page owner. With some other volunteers who had joined the project they have now been able to collect some 500 used books and magazines. “After I completed my Bachelor’s degree, I wanted to donate my books to anyone who would need them,” says Khatiwada. “But I didn’t know who and where to turn to.” Then it struck him. “I knew most of my classmates would be going through the same dilemma. In that case, the books would either be lying idle on shelves or packed off somewhere and probably in a few years, sold off as junk paper.” He then started by collecting books from his friends and neighbors. By word of mouth promotion along with the facebook page, more people started donating. “We have nine people now who’re actively promoting and collecting books,” says Khatiwada. “But we’re still in our initial phase and our current target is to get more volunteers and build a stock of as many usable books and categorize them for an open library of books donated by the students for the students.” Using a small room in his house in Swayambhu as an office space and a storeroom for Bookmandu, he has been shelving books in neat racks. A month ago, Rs 500 were collected from each member to print flyers that they have been distributing at several colleges and student hangouts. “After we have enough books and a good space, our plans are to first start a book-for-a-book exchange program and also make photocopies of notes taken by students available,” Khatiwada shares. “When we start, we want to be prepared with enough materials. In the long term, we want to distribute the donated books to deprived and underprivileged students in remote areas.” Though they are currently in the process of figuring out how to handle the logistics of their project, Khatiwada says he is quite positive that they will succeed with the support and sense of volunteerism from the youths. While the group of youngsters is still in their planning phase, there are people who have also applied the idea of reusing old books with added commercial advantages. Shambhu Prasad Baral, proprietor of International Secondhand Book Store on Exhibition Road, started buying and selling old books from 1996. “When I was a student, I had gone to Calcutta where I visited a place called College Street,” shares Baral: “The street used have rows of old books piled on top of each other like haystacks and students passing by would scavenge the piles for books they wanted. I always loved the concept of reuse but I also knew everything had to be done in a systematic way.” Once he came back, he individually started collecting and buying books from his friends and contacts. “I remember waiting at college gates during exam times and handing out brochures to every student asking them to sell me their used books,” Baral recalls. Students were already selling and buying old books among their friends or people they knew. Baral jumped on the prospect of having a shared hub where students could carry this on and would give him an opportunity to pioneer the concept commercially. Soon, he had collected a good stock of books that he categorized and shelved in rows of racks with aisles that people could walk between as they hunted for the books. The books he bought from students at 30 to 40 percent of the original prices, he would sell them with a certain profit margin which would still be almost half the price you would have to pay for a new book. He also encouraged his customers to bring the books back after use for which they could get back 50 percent of the price they had originally paid. Along the twenty-five years of business, Baral says he has had a regular flow of students from and outside the Valley who come to buy and sell books. “It’s definitely beneficial for students as not only can they get books at cheaper prices but also are guaranteed a certain return after they have used them,” says Sagar Nepal, a BA third year student at Ratna Rajya Campus as he looks for a book in Baral’s store. The Exhibition Road alone has three of the oldest stores that sell secondhand course books. Tulsi Poudel of Hajurko Pustak Sansar, one of the three stores, also says that there is a greater demand for old books than new ones in her store. But due to financial risks involved in buying and selling old books, she says she also sells new books. Baral explains that publishers tend to shuffle or alter the contents of course books without a change in curriculum to trick the students into buying new books. “Moreover, the Curriculum Development Center should also make it mandatory to have clear information for students and buyers regarding curriculum change on the last page of a course book stating for how many years will it be effective and the course contents as well,” he says. Baral, who collects even outdated books, , has leased  one extra room near his bookstore and two rooms in his house for storing old books and he’s further looking to start buying and selling used laptops as well. “I don’t believe that books can ever be outdated,” says Baral. “There’s always someone who can learn a thing or two new from it. Especially books of principles, philosophies and ideas – they never get old.” Agreeing with Baral, Khatiwada adds, “Books can change the lives of people, especially in a country like ours where many children are still deprived of basic education due to their inability to buy books. I think it’s selfish to stock up on books if you’re not going to use them.” Though Baral and retailers like him have taken the concept of reusing old books into a commercial frame and the volunteers like the youngsters of Bookmandu plan to have a network of students sharing their used books, their purpose is the same. Sell or exchange or donate books to have them passed around. You can’t let something as valuable as books go to waste, neither in grimy dumping sites nor in the neatly stacked idle shelves. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33134 Seventy-two days, 317 portraits, nearly 200 self-portraits submitted and still counting, five days to go for the exhibition at Patan Museum, yet Antonio Nodar puts in, “I wanted to do more but I have limited time.” All the same, numbers aren’t as important as the passion and concept that drive Antonio’s project, ‘…from portrait to self-portrait…’ which began in Spain in 1996.[break] Since his arrival in Kathmandu on January 10, 2012, Antonio has been on the move – in, around and outside the Valley, taking photographs of as many artists as he can. He prints these photographs on canvas and gives a copy to the respective artist in order to transform it into a self-portrait. “I’m asking you a question when I give you the portrait,” he explains, casually walking around in his temporary apartment at Mangal Bazaar. He continues, “It is a visual interview where nothing is pre-established.” And the answers to his question are limitless, unpredictable, diverse and personal. “I’ve seen renowned artworks being reproduced by artists where they add or remove certain elements, but I’ve never seen a portrait being reproduced on a portrait,” shares Manuj Babu Mishra, 76. One of the participants at the project, Manuj adds, “This is a unique project and although the size of the print was small, I did what I wanted.” By which he means, drawing his own head with horn. “I love my head,” he states firmly over the phone. Printmaker Ragini Upadhyay, on the other hand, has added a crown of thorns on her head and snakes slither down her hair. To the left of her figure, she has added an imbalanced beam balance. “I wanted to show that although women are appreciated for their beauty, the reality is that women still face injustice,” she says. Over at the apartment, Antonio boils water in a kettle and serves tea. “I like people,” he replies, when asked why portraits of people and not any other subject matters. Antonio finds the project to be a positive learning process and describes it as a game with other people, which goes farther than taking pictures. “I’m asking you a question when I give you the portrait,” Nodar explains, casually walking around in his temporary apartment at Mangal Bazaar. He continues, “It is a visual interview where nothing is pre-established.” “It’s not always my point of view but it’s their portraits that make it more interesting and dynamic,” he humbly says and laughs, “I would actually like to completely stay in the background, but that’s not possible.” Antonio, born in Spain, is currently based in London. The first exhibition of ‘…from portrait to self-portrait…’ held in Barcelona in 1997 included works by 97 artists. The original portraits and resulting self-portraits are always exhibited together. The Elsa Peretti Foundation has been collaborating with Antonio on the project and together they launched Volume 1 of ‘…from portrait to self-portrait’ last year. The heavy book consists of 242 diptychs. Eventually, there will be five volumes of the series with a total of 1,001 diptychs. With the support of the Elsa Peretti Foundation and Kathmandu Contemporary Arts Centre (KCAC), the project was brought to Nepal this year. Here, Antonio has taken photographs of 317 artists. But not all of them have picked up their portraits and not all of them will return their self-portraits. “It’s interesting because I don’t know what will happen even till before the exhibition,” Antonio states. About ‘The Nepal Album’ exhibition, which opens on March 28 at Patan Museum, he merely hints, “It’s going to be a big surprise.” Celia Washington, the Co-Founder Director of KCAC expects the show to be the beginning of contemporary art renaissance in Nepal. “There are a lot of divisions in the arts community here but this project doesn’t discriminate,” highlights Celia who first met Antonio in 1998. Celia believes that the exhibition will act as a catalyst to promote Nepali contemporary arts and help Nepali artists to build international identities. Senior cartoonist Durga Baral seconds Celia’s thoughts. “I think it will give Nepali artists a good platform for international exposure,” expresses Durga who lives in Pokhara. A high school student, Mina Gurung was one of the young artists who was photographed by Antonio in Pokhara. “There aren’t many art programs happening here and it feels good that I got to participate,” she says. Besides Pokhara, Patan, Kathmandu, and Bhaktapur, Antonio also traveled to Biratnagar and Baglung for the project. For young artists Sanjeev Maharjan, Bikash Shrestha, Laxman Karmacharya, Sunita Maharjan and Manish Harijan who have been assisting Antonio in the project, it has also been a learning experience. “I think we discovered a lot of creative people,” coordinator Sanjeev reveals and continues, “We always say that the arts community is small, but there are a lot of creative people here who may not be working directly in the arts.” Although the project may not have included each and every single artist, the exhibition will be the first of its kind in Nepal which brings together such a diverse pool of participants. From illustrator Kreeti Shakya of Kazi Studios and fashion designer Astik Sherchan to traditional painter Udaya Charan Shrestha, and MFA Painting student Sundar Lama, ‘The Nepal Album’ will feature a wide variety of drawings, paintings, collages and mixed media works. More significantly, it will be interesting to observe the thought processes behind each work and the multiple perspectives of self-definition. “The project is a great way to bring together artists and an avenue to see different styles,” says Kreeti while Udaya opines, “There’s no prize, there’s no money, yet everyone has put in a lot of effort in their work.” And that in itself, he feels, is a major achievement for local artists. …from portrait to self-portrait, The Nepal Album will open on Wednesday, March 28, at 5:30 pm at the Patan Museum. P.T.O 8 & 9 for exclusive photographs and artwork   that will be at the exhibition. Burathoki is the contributing Arts Editor for The Week. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33133 As the sun sets over the temple of Lord Shiva at Baichhap, a place about three kilometers west from Kalanki, locals start clearing out the small ground opposite the temple. More people with mats, speakers, microphone and cables in their hands pour in from the nearby houses and begin to arrange them. As one group arrives with a harmonium and a set of tabala, the others assemble microphones and speakers on the temple roof.[break] The stage is set. Then  a group  of middle-aged women walks in uniform red-white saris. They are the members of an all-women bhajan group from Baichhap. After they settle down on the mats laid out for them, forming a semi-circle, they start arranging their harmonium and tabala sets. Slowly, more people gather around the women’s bhajan group. The elderly make themselves comfortable on the benches of nearby shops; others make their way to the temple stairs or just stand in front of the performing group. “They have good voices and are better than the male group,” says Laxmi Maya Shrestha, an elderly local with a faint smile. The other women of her age sitting beside her nod in agreement. The group of twelve women – Bhuwaneshwori Shrestha, Mangal Maya Shrestha, Dabal Maya Shrestha, Tirtha Maya Shrestha, Mangal Devi Shrestha, Ram Devi Shrestha, Urmila Hamal, Santu Shrestha, Laxmi Shrestha, Nirmala Shrestha, Sunita Shrestha, and Shova Shrestha – has been getting similar compliments and encouragements since they started performing bhajan songs since August last year. After strict training for three months, they went through exams before they performed in public. Nine out of twelve members of the group take turns to play the harmonium while three switch places for tabala. The person on the harmonium takes the lead and all the others join them as a choir. They start off with slow songs in Nepali and Newari, and then they rise to fast-beat songs, gathering louder claps from the audience. As the songs progress and beats of tabala and the hum of harmonium expand through the open air, the other women in the audience come forward and sway their bodies along the beats with their eyes closed. “It all started when we heard the sound of harmonium and tabala from a certain house,” says member Urmila Hamal, 45.“Later, we found out that a group of men were learning bhajan. Then we talked among ourselves and decided to learn the instruments and songs ourselves.” The members of the Balkumari Bhajan Mandal, the local bhajan group, were getting older and they were training a few young men to take over them. “We had collected Rs 200 from each person and had started a class on bhajan singing with harmonium and tabala teachers. The new group was supposed to perform during the local jatras,” says Dhan Bahadur Shrestha, a local who had provided space in his house for lessons and rehearsals. When the housewives came forward to learn the instruments, it was a surprise for the people of Baichhap. Many doubted that they could learn as seriously as men. Even the women had just wanted to utilize their leisure time and learn a few songs in the name of god but never had they realized that they would have the courage to perform before a huge audience and would be equally adored. Most of the women in their late forties had free time in the afternoon. The morning meals and the chores would be finished by then and all the family members would be out on work. They would just spend the afternoon chatting with friends, take a nap or just watch TV. But the sounds of harmonium and tabala inspired them to carry out their hobby and follow their interest. “When talks began of forming a women’s group for the bhajan, I knew that I had to be in it because that way I would be able to channel my free time in a creative way. And also, there would be no space for unwanted thoughts in my mind,” says Hamal. “On the first day of the class, my heart was heavy due to fear and nervousness,” says Dabal Maya Shrestha, 46, with a hearty laugh, “We had already said that we wanted to learn but when the time came, I had doubts that I could actually learn anything.” Although they had a hard time at the beginning, there was no looking back for the group once they started. In addition, juggling between households and classes was not an easy for them. But giving up was not an option, and also because they had started purely out of their interest. “Apart from our regular chores, none of us had  hard time with our families,” the women say enthusiastically, almost in a single voice. “If it hadn’t been the encouragement of our husbands and families, we wouldn’t have learnt as much as we have in just three months,” says Nirmala Shrestha, 30. Jaganath Shrestha, who taught the women to play harmonium, says he is happy with how his students, whom he  likes to call his daughters, have been performing. “It wasn’t simple to teach them to play the instrument in the beginning. But they picked up as soon as they memorized the basics,” he says. “When I was first told that I would have to teach a women’s group to play the instruments, I was a little hesitant. Some were like my sisters; some were of my mother’s age, so I thought I would have a hard time adjusting,” says Raju Joshi, the tabala teacher, “But working with them turned out to be a very enjoyable and remarkable experience.” He too agrees that he was not sure if they would be able to perform with confidence in just three months. “It was hard for both them and us at the beginning. They weren’t learning as quickly as men. But they worked hard and practiced everyday. They worked even harder than the men and eventually they  became better than the men’s group,” he says with a wide grin. But Jaganath Shrestha believes that there is more room for improvements. “They will have to learn more to acquire more skills and confidence.” Ram Bahadur Shrestha, 83, president of Balkumari Bhajan Mandal, agrees with the harmonium teacher. “They have just started; they still have much to learn and much more to excel at,” he says with an air of wisdom. Now the women’s group sits down for bhajan on Tuesday and Saturday evenings, from 6 pm to  nine or nine-thirty. Though the group members have already bought individual instruments for themselves, they get together in a group as for practice sessions. Hamal says it was important for her to own a harmonium not only to practice but for keepsake as an instrument she learnt to play. “It’ll be like my asset. I’ll teach my grandchildren some of the basics. And I hope they take care of the instrument as my remembrance even after I’m gone,” she shares her imaginings. At the Shiva Mandir, as the women play on, more people gather around them and the numbers of people dancing over their tunes also increase. The husbands of the members of the bhajan group sit in a corner and watch them play with big smiles on their faces. They were the ones arranging the mats and microphones earlier and building a ‘stage’ for them. “She has leaped higher than my expectations and I feel proud of my wife for taking up the challenge and doing her best at this age,” said Ram Krishna Shrestha, Santu’s husband. While the proud husband of Dabal Maya, Laxmi Das Shrestha comments, “I think my wife learnt more quickly than her friends and she sounds good, too.” It is almost dark as the women continue with their singing. But the growing night does not seem to bother the group or the audience; instead, the applause gets louder, as they respond to one encore after another of the audience’s favorite spiritual songs. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33131 It does not take too long to know a person who wants to be known. A chance encounter with Bhaikaji Tiwari can be enough to recognize that this man is looking for a place in posterity. He may not be aspiring to become Georges-Eugene Haussmann, the city planner who disemboweled Paris and rebuilt it to the desires of Louis Napoleon and his Second Empire in the mid-nineteenth century. But BKT seems to be aware that it is his moment of leaving a mark, howsoever tiny, on the urban landscape of the Kathmandu Valley.[break] Behind an affable exterior, BKT has a dexterous mind, a technocratic heart and nerves of steel. He knows that what he is doing is unusual. Yet he puts on the appearance of being genuinely surprised that his routine activities have created so much controversy that no less than the Prime Minister of the country had to come out openly in his support. BKT is the executive chief of Kathmandu Valley Town Development Implementation Committee. Apart from monitoring compliance of building codes, his job is to clear areas in town that have been earmarked for roads. Once designated space has been cleared of all encroachments, different agencies would be responsible for shifting electricity poles, telephone wires, water supply lines, sewer pipes, and television and internet cables to make way for widening of roads. Even after streets have been broadened a bit, BKT is professionally too astute not to know that traffic problems of Kathmandu Valley would remain largely unresolved. The width that he is helping add would do nothing to improve entry and exit points. There would be almost no extra space for service roads, bus-bays, taxi stands or slow vehicle lanes; since the distance to be cleared are uniform everywhere as measured from the centerline of the road. If all that sounds too much like mumbo jumbo, imagine being stuck in a public microbus with goats and gunnysacks in the passageway and the conductor blocking the door. No matter how comfortable the seat was, the passenger would still need to struggle his way out of the vehicle one at a time. That could be the reason BKT doesn’t pretend that what he is doing would help reduce commuter’s woes. It would rather add to the problems of pedestrians. Drivers would be tempted to alternate between breaking at narrow sections and accelerating immediately to take advantage of widened stretches. Unpredictability of driver’s behavior is what makes crossing the road in Kathmandu a hazardous exercise. The expectations of the town-planning chief are modest. He wants people to realize that they have a duty to respect laws that their own representatives have enacted. If lawmakers were to reduce the right-of-way of any road, BKT would probably be happy to cease his demolition drive. It is his second objective that makes his task ambitious. He says that he wants to open up ‘space’ along city roads. That sounds too much like angioplasty, to borrow a term from medical sciences, which aims to unblock, clear or repair a coronary artery. In the words of Emile Zola, Haussmann had cut up Paris with an axe to build an “enormous hypocrisy.” BKT wields a bulldozer and his surgical procedure would be judged by his success or failure in creating spaces in a town desperately gasping for breath. Open space Open space is an arena of endless possibilities. It may refer to an empty space waiting for things to happen, tales to unfold and scenes to be enacted. In his canonical book, producer-director Peter Brook uses the title “The Empty Space” to formulate a philosophy of theater. The allegory is telling. Theater presents life in understandable slices. The empty space is then a stage for conflicts, negotiations, inspiration, imagination, creativity, frustration, satisfaction and denouement. The cycle keeps repeating as life unfolds and opportunities of learning appear with unfailing regularity. The phrase emptiness may also refer to blankness. If all the world is a stage, then where are the spectators for whom living beings play out their designated roles? The Bard left that question hanging. Possibilities are once again endless. It is quite likely that even outer space is not as empty as it is often perceived to be. Vacant space is also open. It is merely waiting to be filled. A vacant parking slot is expecting the next vehicle. Meanwhile, a vacant plot is probably changing hands between land speculators. Someday someone would occupy it and then it would no longer remain vacant. For a landscape architect, open space is a parcel of land without human-built structures. However, the site can always accommodate dreams of an architect who would like to have an artificial lake, a fake hillock or a stage for grand monuments. When conservationists talk about open spaces, they refer to places reserved for specific purposes. These could be restricted, reserved or protected land where ‘development works’ is normally not allowed. Greenbelts and greenways form a corridor and serve as recreational or reserve spaces. They are open areas that function as protective green covers and provide breathing space. The commonest of all open spaces are public squares, piazzas, plazas, parks and courtyards. They are planned, designed and built to be shared. Entry may sometimes be restricted but are mostly open to public. In Kathmandu, every piece of open space is considered a vacant lot waiting for occupation. Such a mindset may have something to do with the idea of nativity. Unlike an inhabitant of a town or city who is a citizen with duties and responsibilities, a native belongs to a place by ancestry and considers it his right to remodel or build his environment any which way he likes. The choice of gender is deliberate: Militant nativism is often an expression of masculinity. Apart from conscientious professionals hawking values of modernity, the only other ‘citizens’ of this country are Madheshis. Both groups have had very little say in the way Kathmandu was allowed to remain a settlement of subjects and then deliberately left to degenerate into a dystopian urban sprawl. Closed minds Once upon a time, the lakebed was green and hillocks within the valley glistened like emeralds scattered on a brown floor. Settlers who had descended into the basin built tight towns atop arid ridges and left fertile plains for cultivation. They had little need for additional parks or greenbelts but created ample public squares and courtyards to make urban life possible. A mercantile civilization flourished as agriculture produced surpluses and advantage of location helped in the evolution of trading culture. Arriving in the valley after multiple military campaigns, Gorkhalis left the medieval character of their new capital intact with the seat of religious-political power at the centre and a hierarchy of clusters built around consecrated palace complex as complete communities. King Prithvi admiringly called it his Takhat Killa—the impregnable fort. In tune with the ambitions of the period, Kathmandu became home of the largest parade ground in Asia—a large expanse that stretched from Rani Pokhari to Tripureshwar—where troops could be assembled within minutes after the bugle has been sounded from atop Bhimsen’s Folly, otherwise also known as Dharhara. Ranas reduced the once mighty Gorkhali army into a mercenary force. Soldiers became orderlies in palaces of their masters whenever they were not being rented out to make money for the ruling clan. Ranas divided much of the flatlands in the valley among themselves as cousins in the family multiplied from legally wedded wives, forcibly taken concubines and liaisons of ailing patriarchs with female attendants and chambermaids of palaces and mansions dotting the valley. However, tightly-controlled population movement meant that there was enough agricultural land still intact at the time of the Shah Restoration in 1950s. The first flush of immigrants in the 1950s gobbled up public commons and pastures by paying a pittance to their traditional caretakers. After the royal-military coup of 1960, the Guthi land of religious trusts became something to be given away to the family, friends and retainers of the king. In the 1970s, the newly empowered crony politicos and crafty administrators—the Panchayat nomenklatura—joined the game and began to legalize occupation of public land by the people in positions of authority in a massive way. This was the period when river plains were carved up into plots, wetlands were drained and reclaimed, and hillocks were dug up to reward loyalists of the absolutist system. Greenways along the Ring Road was planned as a desperate means of compensating for open spaces in the city that had been lost during the land grab in previous decades. Along with massive tree-plantation campaign, land was acquired near Sitapaila to serve as an evacuation centre in case of catastrophic emergencies. The public land that had been levelled in Syuchatar to airlift supplies for Khampa rebels in the 1960s was to be protected as an empty space. The Boksi Chaur wilderness along the banks of Balkhu River was to be maintained. Near Ekantkuna, a public park was planned for the benefit of new settlements coming up in the Jawalakhel sprawl. There were bigger plans for land acquired near Sat Dobato: It would be the Tundikhel of Patan. Further ahead, Tinkune junction would be the wide rotary with greenery. The land near the airport, which now houses Sanchar Gram, was meant for a tent village for pilgrims to Pashupati during Shivratri. Nearby, the Tilganga plains along Bagmati were to be used as bus park for religious tourists during festive occasions and left as playground for the rest of the year. The Sankha Park near Maharajgunj originally covered a larger area; it was later reduced to keep private land of powerful individuals outside the boundary of acquisition. Part of it was perhaps released after formal notice for acquisition had been made. None of these spaces retain their intended character. Sitapaila Park houses an ordinance depot despite being so close to a heavily populated area. Syuchatar ground has unrecognisably shrunk. Bokshi Chaur has been taken over by religious zealots. Ekatna Kuna space is now an office park. The proposed Tundikhel of Satdobato houses a sports complex. Tinkune rotary is a dump yard. Sanchargram and Eye Hospital have taken up Tilganga land meant for devotees of Pashupati. The land once reserved for open space serves worthwhile causes. The city, however, lost its last attempt of creating lungs for clusters along the road that opened new areas for ‘development.’ Universally, defence and public sectors together help keep land unoccupied and green. In Nepal, the army thinks nothing of building a party palace in the middle of the town. The university rents out its property to private builders to erect shopping malls at busy junctions. And an organization of the Welfare Sector, like Nepal Telecom for example, invades the landscape with high-rises like any other enterprise of the Profit Sector. Kathmandu Valley has several issues of urgency. Cleaning up Bagmati and its tributaries probably tops the agenda of making the valley liveable. Improvement in air quality would be impossible unless massive investments in mass transit are made in the near future. Open spaces are lungs that keep urban settlements functioning. The dust that is being raised over widening of streets would soon settle. Perhaps then it will be time to think of urban future of the valley all over again. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33130 Draped in a crisp cotton saree, hair neatly tied in a bun, an elegant rhythmic gait and a million dollar smile - My memory of Mamma as a child. Fine lines of experience have set in now, yet the adventurer in her still asks if she would be allowed to go bungee jumping. Despite all those years of wisdom, she still cries while watching movies and listens to John Mayer! [break] A happy-go-lucky person who believes in instant karma, Mamma always taught me and my sister, and also probably her students, to keep working towards being a good human at every step in life. That, no matter what you achieve, how great you become, if you lack empathy, respect, modesty, humility and compassion in your behavior towards people, you have failed, and failed miserably. She lost her husband, my father, in an accident. She was thirty six then and is fifty one now. I was eleven and my sister nine. She decided to stay with her husband’s family for the rest of her life for the sake of her children, so that we could have as close a life to normal as any kids our age. She turned a new leaf in her life, we went to school together and I was the teacher’s daughter. From being a housewife to becoming a teacher in an unfamiliar country, to taking evening classes in B. Ed, to cooking when she got back at eight after a tiring day, there’s little she hasn’t seen. All of it was worthwhile because it was for the welfare of her kids. At twenty-six, when I could possibly, if I’d chosen to, have had kids of my own, I understand the sacrifices she’s made – and not just her alone: mothers around the world make for their child’s sake, especially single moms. I can’t imagine my life otherwise. Yes, it would be great to be able to wrap my arms around my dad but I learnt early about death – it takes away the best people from the Earth because God needs great soldiers; there is a star in the sky for every dear one you lose, looking down on everything you do, hopefully with pride, definitely with all their love. I like to stick by that story, even when I probably should know better at my age. Today, if I’m an independent, dynamic, strong-willed but level-headed and passionate person, I owe it all to the strongest woman I know. It’s easy to stray into oblivion as a kid who just lost a parent; instead, to be instilled with that drive to go places, discover and carve out a niche for yourself, keep striving for better things and look at a glass as half full – all credits go to Mamma. This isn’t just my story. Over the years, as I moved away from her and started an independent life when I was studying, I met a couple of friends who had the same story to tell. Mothers are the unsung heroes of many lives. That is the first relationship we all take for granted as we get on with our own lives. Time and again, we are reminded, like Mitch Albom puts beautifully: “Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours began.” It’s amazing to me how every woman’s happiness is closely tied in with her child’s as soon as she becomes a mother. Times when moms take pride in their two year old dancing to the latest film songs, to when they excel in academics or sports or both, to when they see them fending for themselves in the big bad world, to seeing them married and with children of their own. From the time she holds you in her arms at birth, till evermore, she’s right there, standing like a shield, ready to take on the world for you, unflinching in her support no matter how many times you err and expecting nothing, absolutely nothing in return! Like every relationship, a mother-daughter (son) relationship undergoes transformation. As teenagers we’ve all hated our moms at some point; but like one of my friends’ pointed out, “If you don’t hate your mother, then she isn’t doing her job right!” Yes, I’ve been there too. We falter, we get mad, we fight, misunderstand and we take for granted. But if you look at the larger picture your mom’s played all these parts – your confidant, your adviser and even your punching bag at times. The good thing is, after all these years, I am my mother’s best friend, her closest aide, her wildest company, her partner and finally, her daughter. I hope every girl can be her mother’s girlfriend as well. I can’t say it any better myself, so I borrow these words from the writer of My Sister’s Keeper, Jodi Picoult, to sum up my thoughts: “My mother... she is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her.” The writer is in equal measure her mamma’s and destiny’s child, in search of her white picket fence while hanging by a bungee rope. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33129 I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him; but when he says this, it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went along slow then, and I warn’t right down certain whether I was glad I started or whether I warn’t. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says: “Dah you goes, de ole true Huck; de on’y white genlman dat ever kep’ his promise to ole Jim.”[break] Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I GOT to do it –I can’t get OUT of it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it with guns, and they stopped and I stopped. One of them says: “What’s that yonder?” “A piece of a raft,” I says. “Do you belong on it?” “Yes, sir.” “Any men on it?” “Only one, sir.” “Well, there’s five niggers run off to-night up yonder, above the head of the bend. Is your man white or black?” I didn’t answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn’t come. I tried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn’t man enough – hadn’t the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening; so I just give up trying, and up and says: “He’s white.” -- The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a book that reaches back into my childhood in St. Louis, Missouri, with memories of my father laughing out loud, reading sections in his armchair in the living room. The black and white photograph in his study of “The Mark Twain” steamship, the sweltering hot Missouri summers, and swimming in the two mile across Mississippi River by Hannibal (Twain’s boyhood home) are all connected to the novel and kneaded into the rich mud of my memories. I love the warm humor and dignity of Jim, the runaway black slave, and the natural kindness and common sense of Huck, a white boy escaping a drunken father and tyrannical society, who ends up helping Jim escape down the Big River on a raft. At a moment of decision, when Huck raised in a racist society determines to turn Jim in, he ends up instead acting not out of his socially created conscience, but from his innate moral sense. It is not the pretty writing in this section that appeals to me or even the humorously convoluted and boyish logic of Huck, but the sense that we can do right despite an upbringing that teaches hate. In the simple dramatic build of the section, Huck’s “He’s white.” stands as a triumphant statement that reverberates through the American psyche. About Merola A Ph D on Dramatic Art from University of California, Berkeley, Merola has been directing as well as teaching theatre. Also a senior Fulbright Scholar to Nepal for 2011, she has already directed six plays since then. As a theatre director and teacher, she often thinks how she might be able to access and transform “what I read onto the stage or into the classroom.” Merola says that she has looked through literature as a primary resource for the plays or performing arts. She mentions that she has emphasized more on original adaptations for that reason. Merola shares her experience about reading a good book as being happy and always looking forward to 9 or 10 pm when she can finally read. Although as she approaches the novel’s end she has the habit of keeping staying up later and later. She especially relishes the build in a great novel to a moment that is fully arrived, inevitable yet surprising, and most often even if sad, triumphant. Reading, she says, is a part of her world and opens another world for her. She exemplifies her understanding of a Muslim city in northern Turkey in Snow, Istanbul in The Museum of Innocence, both by Orhan Pamuk, and modern Japan in The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami as such experience she had. This year from Nepal, Merola says that she enjoyed reading Seasons of Flight by Manjushree Thapa and the non-fiction collection Telling a Tale, edited by Archana Thapa. She is also planning to make these collected stories into a play, with the girls and women telling their own tales in intimate spaces like bookstores and women’s homes as ‘Kitchen Dramas.’ Merola’s five picks Ulysses by James Joyce I love the Dublin world of Ulysses by James Joyce, read as an undergraduate at Berkeley, which I would like to reread now with more life experience. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Márquez My time in Mexico and Central America helped me thrill to the magic realism of One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Márquez from Colombia. Into Their Labors by John Berger The trilogy which includes: the poems, short essays and stories of Pig Earth, Once in Europa, made up of short stories and a longer novella by its title name, and Lilac and Flag, a novel. The trilogy traces the movement of peasant life in a small village in the French Alps into the modern, then postmodern age, with all the ugliness of technology, the horror of torture, and redemptive love. Reading the last pages of Once in Europa in a restaurant, I had the strange experience that I must literally flee to keep from uncontrollably sobbing. Paying my bill, my eyes filling with tears, I mutely pointed to the book and ran out. Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie One of my more recent readings, Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie made me exclaim out loud in wonder and enjoyment at this great Indian epic. Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje Living now in Nepal, I read all the Nepali and South Asian literature I can get my hands on. Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje, which takes place during the civil war in the 1980s in Sri Lana, like Lilac and Flag, is a stringent treatise on politics, love and justice. The book is not romantic or sentimental but it has a very powerful expression. As told to Asmita Manandhar http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33128 All of us, in our little worlds, are surrounded by our own little problems. The world revolves, times change, humans evolve. Progress and happiness are of course at the heart of all these changes. We, as human beings, continuously strive to secure our lives and interests.[break] In this process, people have crossed leaps and bounds (literally) to find happiness – whether that happiness may mean money, stability, security or whatever else. And we Nepalis are no exception to this norm, either. Just thinking about the numerous Nepalis who have resettled out there in different parts of the world makes me wonder what kind of future Nepal will have in terms of a diverse population, and what exactly will a Nepali population entail. To begin with, many of the second- or third-generation Non-Residential Nepalis might not even have a Nepali citizenship but might very well feel attached to Nepal – be it through familial ties or a common language (given that they are raised speaking the language). Yet, being inclined to Nepal at heart, there is also another side that is not to be forgotten in the process: the side that identifies with the country they/their parents have settled in. So these kids would essentially grow up in very different settings,  very different cultures than your average “Nepali” Nepali and seek to understand Nepal rather than experience Nepal. They would “hear” about life in Nepal, the “problems” in Nepal and yet not really be in Nepal to unravel the many mysteries attached to it. Most of these kids would grow up not speaking a word of Nepali, not knowing who their relatives are, and missing out on their entire family circles back in Nepal. At best, everyone back home like mama, kaka, hajur buwas would be uncles, and maiju, kaki, hajur muwas would be aunts: two common words to define every relation. The only Nepal they would know of would be through memories of their parents and the previous generation, the only Nepal they would see would be the few weeks of school holidays that they receive, the only Nepali cousins they would see would be other Nepali or South Asian people their families would hang out with (save for skype conversations but how likely is that). And yet, at the heart of it, I guess they would still be Nepali. It is interesting to note that Nepal would not only be a plane-ride away for them, but also a ride back in time. What with all the animal husbandry prevalent here and the reliance on agriculture, the dire situation of the nation would be mere excitement to add to their holiday here in their native land. Nepal, the country we grew up in, the country we feel the desperate urge to defend even when someone is far from pointing a finger at it, would just be a place devoid of any true emotions or sentiments for them. But this might not necessarily be the case. It is also likely that the family has a lot of members in the vicinity of the foreign land and that they meet regularly for the kids to know each other well enough. Also, there is a probability that the kids will be taught about Nepal and our culture very well – maybe even better than those of us who grew up here. However, just how likely it is, is a question that often bugs me. The way I see it, grandparents should not have to be happy to hear the children of their children speak the language they were supposed to speak in the first place. But I guess it is a way of finding happiness in the disappointment. Moreover, with the Dashian and Tihar not at all being the same disordered yet entertaining affair they used to be thanks to all the resettled Nepali population, you can really sense the emptiness around town, I guess. Of course, this is both good and bad. Good because it gives us hope that our bideshi Nepali cousins will have a brighter future awaiting them than they might have met with in Nepal. And bad because it takes away hope, in that most of our families don’t desire to be Nepalis anymore. Their offspring come out saying “dad” and “mom” as opposed to what we are used to. Their offspring don’t know the ins and outs of their country like they could have, and their offspring have become less Nepali and more bideshi Nepali by every passing day. You know I want to be wrong when I claim such things. I want someone to tell me that this is not how it is going to be, and that Nepali kids will still be fluent in Nepali, still know the value of Saraswati Puja and still know who their family is. I want to be wrong. But tell me, am I totally off tangent in assuming so? Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33127 From frocks to pullovers UJJWALA MAHARJAN “Angel frock” – that’s what I used to call those frilly dresses with embroidered bodices, big puffed sleeves and overflowing skirts – the kinds that princesses wore in Disney cartoons.[break] As a little girl, I used to beg my mom to buy me those pretty frocks everytime we went shopping. But she would usually opt for unisex clothes like pants and t-shirts, and on most of those occasions, I would grumble all the way home, “I don’t want boys’ clothes. You’ll turn me into a boy!!” On top of that, I had short hair. “I’ll give you a Thai cut,” my auntie would tempt me whenever I refused a haircut. In my head, I would picture myself with straight silky hair down to my neck, with a cute fringe on my forehead. I always fell for that and eagerly sat down in front of her as she went snip-snip. As soon as she was done, I would run down to look at my new haircut in the mirror and scream “Jhyalla!” (Traitor.) It was always the same – short hair curling up even shorter. Somebody should’ve warned me back then: A Thai cut DOES NOT transform wild curls into silky straights. Now I have pretty long hair (that’s not always pretty) mostly tied up in a bun. I don’t fantasize about having straight hair anymore (ever since every other girl in Kathmandu went on chemically-straightened dead-hair spree) and I dread anything with frills. My love for pullovers is ever increasing. The comfort of jeans over a dress will forever be unmatched. The allure of black, I’ll never find it in pink. And I would as so surely go for my grandpa’s wardrobe items (altered, of course) over my grandma’s sarees. As I write this, I’m wearing a dull brown pullover (my brother’s), dark blue jeans and converse, and loving how cool it looks on me. My mom, however, still doesn’t seem to approve of my wardrobe. Now every time I get something new for my mostly black-brown-grey wardrobe, she shouts, “There are so many pretty dresses out there. Why can’t you buy something feminine? You’ll turn yourself into a boy!” Well, I told you so. Not really. But I told you so! Ujjwala tweets @UjjwalaMaharjan Smile to keep it simple ASMITA MANANDHAR Smile. People would probably say this, mostly while taking photographs. But for my mother, it was a moral lesson she wanted her kids to learn. When we were kids, she would make a doodle on a chart paper with “Keep Smiling” written on it and stick it on the walls in our rooms. I still remember her disapproving look when we were not smiling, especially when she was introducing us to someone. Contrary to her wishes and lessons, my face carried a frowning expression most of my teenage years. Not that I was unsatisfied with life or that I was depressed but the defect in my jaw made me look like a sulking kid. When the dentist said that braces were the only solution, so be it, declared my mom. My mother is quite happy with my jaw now. But that is not what we will be getting into. Earlier this week, I was traveling in a jam-packed microbus, and on top of that, the driver was speeding recklessly and pulling brakes now and then. To make matters worse, I was standing while gripping the side handles of the bus. In one of those bumps, my bag took a good swing before it hit the person sitting in front of me on the head. She looked at me with a creased eyebrow. I looked back, smiled and apologized to the person. Surprisingly, that not only cooled her off but she made sure I took her seat before getting off at the next stop. There are times when I am too affected easily by other people’s smile. I have realized that when the guards at cinema halls or certain buildings ask to check my bag with a smile, I don’t mind them checking the inside zippers too. If there is more than one person on the front desk, I choose to talk to the one who has a smile on their face. If a person asks me for a favor, no matter how hard it is, I would be more likely to do it if he asks me with a smile. I am not saying that smile can take you forward in your life without much effort. Or for that matter, you commit a horrendous mistake and ask for forgiveness with a smile. But a smile does make things simpler. And trust me, I have evolved from a frowning person to a smiling one (even though just in appearance), and I can tell that smile does work wonders! Asmita tweets @AsmitaManandha1 More restaurants? NISTHA RAYAMAJHI Whenever I have to make my way through the lanes of Jhamsikhel, I can’t help but become nostalgic about my schooldays. The location of my school, which is in the same area itself, is now notably known to be the new restaurant hub, with the new name of Jhamel. Over the years, amazingly, the lanes which just had small local shops and departmental stores have turned into a newfound haven for restaurant hoppers. Not only Jhamsikel but even the capital has witnessed the growth of a number of eateries. Not so long ago, just to break the monotony, my friend and I were planning to go somewhere to just wind down. We were not in the mood to eat, so we were just thinking of going somewhere else other than restaurants. She was not in the mood for movies, so we dropped that idea as well. But there seemed to be nothing else that we could think of to kill time. No matter where you go, you will see a number of restaurants to hang out, be it posh ones or just the local ones. But there are already so many restaurants around that every time we need to eat out, there’s always confusion as to which one to choose. My friend and I then got into a discussion about how there are hardly any places in the capital meant purely for entertainment purposes. But on the brighter side, the limited choices have helped us in being more creative when it comes to having fun. Yes, we don’t have fine parks, beaches or proper amusement parks like in other countries, but we have heritage sites, places where we can go for long rides to watch the scenic beauty, or can just have house parties, if nothing. After being indecisive for a long time, my friend and I just made up our minds to take a stroll in the Basantpur area. But we were glad that this time, for a change, we didn’t settle in for going to one of the eateries. Just whining about the lack of places to hang out is not going to change anything. Nevertheless, I would be glad if in a few years, rather than the usual restaurants, we can have more options. Nistha tweets @Nisthaz What’s in a name? CILLA KHATRY No, no, not Sheila. Not even Sila. And definitely not Seela. It’s C-I-L-L-A. Like in Priscilla. You must’ve heard of her! It’s an understatement to say that people hardly ever pronounce my name right. The only people who pronounce it correctly are my parents, close friends and foreigners. I consider my family and friends extensions of myself, so they don’t count, and I don’t meet that many foreigners on a daily basis, so they don’t count, either. Sometimes, after several attempts to get people to say my name right (needless to say, all in vain), I, too, give up and agree with whatever the other person thinks my name is. The downside of that is that sometimes I’ve even had to respond to Sushila. What’s in a name, you might ask? Everything. It’s your identity. I do understand that mine is not a very common name and people will have problems grasping it the first time around. What I fail to understand, however, is how people just can’t say it right even after multiple telephone conversations or meetings. It all started in school. A primary schoolteacher used to spell out my name every single time. She spent 10 years doing that. I should’ve known how my life would eventually map out and been prepared, but the mispronunciation still shocked, frustrated and sometimes infuriated me for about a decade after that. The most annoying incident was when I received an email that addressed me as Sheila when the very email address clearly spells out my name. Another annoying (my friends will say amusing) experience I’ve had is when a traffic cop looked at my driver’s license and referred to me as Chilla. The look I gave him in response would’ve scared the lights out of a corpse. When I meet someone for the first time, it takes me at least five minutes to introduce myself. I’m not exaggerating. The “Hello, I am Cilla” bit meets with countless apologies and requests to repeat myself, followed by a discussion on how my name is ‘unusual’ and couldn’t be Nepali. At this point, I go on to explain how my dad was a huge fan of Cilla Black and named me after her. The discussion sometimes stretches on for a good ten minutes, and by the end of it, being the chatterbox that I am, I would’ve given the person a brief history of my life. A friend once had a “brilliant” idea that I should instruct people by telling them “Say the C, then let the ‘I’ and the ‘L’s roll over your tongue and end with an ‘ah’!” But no thank you, I’m desperate, yes. THAT desperate, no! I’ve tried and failed in hundred different ways in my efforts to get people to say my name right. Now I’ve resorted to handing out my business card as I say my name so that they can see how it’s spelled, but even that trick backfires. One look at the card and they have that weird expression on their face that makes me want to apologize to them instead. I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that people here will always have problems with my name. There’s nothing I can do to change that. I’ll just have to be sensible enough and not put my daughter (if I ever have one, that is) through the same melodrama by naming her Cataleya. Cilla tweets @cillakhatry http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=33274 As Saurabh Jyoti, Director of the Jyoti Group of Companies guides us inside his office at Jyoti Bhawan on Kanti Path, the office looks like any usual corporate office except for the cupboard with fascinating collection of motor miniatures. But as he starts about his love for technologies, one will realize that his room is the ultimate collection of gadgets. [break] From antique radios and music systems to mirror TV, Acer touch smart desktop and digital photo frame, Jyoti has it all. He believes that technology in its earlier phase was more of a want or luxury but it has now become a necessity. The technology that we are using, he says, is like our fantasy coming into life. “We’ve evolved from the time when just carrying a mobile phone used to be such a hip,” adds the young entrepreneur. “Now life and business are moving faster, and gadgets just fit into my lifestyle to help me speed up.” With the help of gadgets, he can use the most unproductive time like traffic jams to accomplish his business deals. He uses his HTC EVO 3D phone, HTC flyer tablets and Acer Ferrari netbook to finish his work regardless of the time and place. “And the convenience that these gizmos provide is priceless,” he says. Jyoti predicts that the handiness of gadgets might even make the office base unnecessary in the future. He credits Japan for already working on such a concept. But most companies and institutions in Nepal still rely on paperwork to get jobs done. “Though Nepali businesses haven’t relied solely on technologies, the comfort levels with the gadgets are increasing,” he adds. He also appreciates the 3G connection on mobile phones. “It helps for the continuity of connectivity wherever we go. In fact, I read all the news or current events on my phone or tablet. Nowadays, I go through newspapers only for advertisements of my companies or my competitors,” says Jyoti with a sly smile. He adds that he would go on a huge loss if he were to let go of his gadgets. But at the same time, he emphasizes that technologies are to make life easier, not further complicate it. “Spending too much time with technologies can lead your personal life to crumble,” says the father of two. He admits that previously his focus on work had not spared him any time for leisure or family. But he has learnt to keep his phone or tablet aside for a while and resist from taking e-mails when he is with the family. “I’m thinking of switching off my phone on weekends but it’s not materializing,” he says with a hearty laugh. Acer TouchSmart The 23-inch screen does well with productivity tasks. Jyoti loves the wide screen and touch component of the desktop. To be able to zoom in and out easily gives him good satisfaction. Acer Ferrari One Netbook Though most of time he would be using his tablet for his works, he uses his Acer Ferrari One for storing and working on bigger files. The eye-catching and masculine netbook comes with 4GB of DDR2 memory. Philips Mirror TV Docked on the wall right above his desktop, Philips Mirror TV is a TV when switched on and a mirror when switched off. A limited production of Philips, it gives a stylish look with golden frames in Jyoti’s office. HTC Evo 3D Jyoti boasts of his phone which has the latest android software 2.3. “Android phones are so simple. All I need to do is have one Google account and there I have all the things I want,” he says. Apart from using it for music and maps while traveling, he also uses it as a speedometer for his vintage bike. He defines himself as an Apple hater. HTC Flyer Jyoti says that he is more of a handwriting person, so the HTC Flyer suits perfectly for him. He loves the portability of the device. The tablet saves his notes in digital format. He also uses the device for digital signature. LaCie Porsche Design Hard Disks Jyoti owns two hard disks from LaCie. One accommodates the space of 2TB and the other of 1TB. He has set up the bigger one in his office while he carries the smaller one around. “You should be careful with technologies and machines. There should always be backup,” Jyoti explains the need for external hard disk. iPod U2 Special edition It’s the only Apple product he owns, Jyoti claims. He bought the device only because it was a U2 special edition. The iPod with all U2 songs with signatures from all the band members, Jyoti says, was more of a want for him when he bought it. Philips Stream M Speakers The wireless streaming of the speakers attracted Jyoti in the first place. Sitting proudly right across his office table, Jyoti uses it without moving from his chair and he says he loves that feeling. Philips Digital Photo Frame The digital photo frame is used to store and display pictures. Jyoti leaves the frame to display his family photos when he is not using it for work. At other times, he uses it to load products specification sheets. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32874 Right after the completion of the Sixth National Games in Far Western Region, Kathmandu is hosting the AFC Challenge Cup, the second biggest tournament of Asian football. South Asian Army Sports Meet concluded on Wednesday in Kathmandu while Surya Nepal Masters, the biggest and only international golf event of the country, is ongoing at the Gokarna Forest Golf Resort. Nepali national cricket team has been in top form at the ICC World T20 Qualifiers in the UAE.[break] FIFA President Sepp Blatter visited Nepal last week. Political leaders are using anecdotes from sports to convey their political messages. Parliamentarians are discussing sports issue for the first time after the State Affairs Committee asked Nepal Army and Ministry of Defense to furnish their clarification for pulling out two players of the army club from the national football squad without informing the team management. National Sports Council (NSC) announced last week a training program called ‘Mission SAG’ for the athletes of some sports and NSC decided to call gold and silver medalists of the Sixth National Games to a training that will begin in a month. On the surface, the country seems to be turning sporty suddenly and it looks as if it is a boom time for sports. However, sports analyst, athletes and technical manpower in sports are not optimistic. Nonetheless, they think it’s right time to take a step toward sustainable development of the sports sector. Current status Around 3600 athletes participated in the Sixth National Games. They were all champions of their regions and departments. Altogether 1091 medals were decided. Besides the medalists, many emerging talents were noticed. Athletes Shakuntala Thakulla, Nirmala Khatri and volleyball player Shalina Shrestha are a few examples. National games are platforms for recognizing champions and identifying new talents. The Sixth National Games also recognized champions and identified talents. So, what next? Barring a handful of professional athletes, what program does NSC have to further groom the emerging talents? In the AFC Challenge Cup, Nepal crashed out of the tournament losing all three group stage matches. During the tournament Nepal failed to score even a single goal. FIFA President Sepp Blatter, who watched the match between Nepal and Palestine on the opening day of the tournament, gave a compliment that Nepal played like Barcelona but lacked Messi to score. Many can took it as a great compliment but those who are aware of the way Barcelona groomed Messi through their youth training facilities called La Mesia, just laughed at it. The question that arises here is that are the football clubs in Nepal ready to run ‘La Mesia’ to develop our own Messis? All Nepal Football Association (ANFA) is running an academy for nurturing young footballers. But has it been able to provide proper environment and facilities to encourage young footballers? Everyone accepted that Nepali team lacked sharp strikers. So what is ANFA doing to seek talents who can score? More importantly, did ANFA sit with the coach Graham Roberts to analyze the matches and find out what went wrong? Golf could help promote sports tourism in the country. Altogether 85 foreign golfers are participating in the Surya Nepal Masters, an initiative of Surya Nepal Pvt Ltd and Nepal Professional Golfers Association (NPGA). What plans do Nepal Tourism Board and National Sports Council have to develop the game? Does there exist even some sort of coordination between them? Every question raised above has a negative answer, a big NO. Experts say “We need programs to nurture emerging talents if we want sustainable development of any sports,” said Sushil Nar Singh Rana, chief coach of athletics. “However, National Sports Council and other sports associations lack such programs,” he added. According to Rana, even the athletes who were not supervised by any coach claimed medals in the Sixth National Games. “We saw some sheer talents, they were raw. They need to be groomed,” said Rana. “NSC and associations must think about deploying coaches in pocket areas to develop respective games. Then, it will be easier to polish raw talents,” he added. Sports analyst and psychologist Ramesh Khanal stressed that Nepali sports authorities often lack creativity. “We should develop mechanisms to tap inborn talents,” said Khanal. “We need long term training plans,” he added. Despite praising ANFA for its various initiatives, Khanal said that ANFA also lacks programs for hunting talents. “Sports authorities rarely analyze things after the completion of events. I don’t think, ANFA has analyzed the weaknesses of its team after crashing out of the AFC Challenge Cup,” said Khanal. “How could you set your future course without analyzing the current failures?” he asked. Where are the authorities getting busy? If Khanal, who served National Sports Council for decades, is to be believed, Nepal Olympic Committee is a wrestling ring for Nepali sports authorities while NSC is turning into a platform for fulfilling pity political and personal agendas by mobilizing youths. There are two Nepal Olympic Committees, one recognized by International Olympic Committee and the other restored by the verdict of Supreme Court. There are two national associations each for gymnastics, kabaddi, boxing, athletics, karate and taekwondo. “There is glamour in sports. You can mobilize youths. If you have international connections you can enjoy power and money,” said Khanal. “This is why most people serving in different sports authorities stick to their posts for lifetime,” he added. Why is all this going on? Again if Khanal is to be believed, the interest of political parties to project their cadres through sports and greed of enjoying posts for lifetime in sports leader has been ruining Nepali sports. “I haven’t heard about Republican or Democrat Sports Association in the US. I haven’t seen Congress-I Sports Association or BJP Sports Association in India. However, we have sports organizations of each political party in Nepal. These associations politicize sports,” said Khanal. Is there any hope? Taekwondo ace Deepak Bista thinks it is right time for the leading figures in the sporting scene to make the most out of the current environment for the benefit of the sports sector. “As the country is going through different kind of crisis, sports sector is giving hope to people. Political leaders are talking about sports and sports events are getting first-page coverage in media. This is the best time to cash in,” said Bista. However, Khanal has doubts over the ability of political leadership and sports leaders. “The scenario is good for the development of sports but to make the most of this opportunity both political and sports leaders should put aside their personal agendas and keep only sports on the priority,” said Khanal. On the other hand, Bista seemed more willing to give a benefit of doubt to both political and sports leadership. “I have never seen such favorable environment to develop sports before and I’m hopeful sports leadership will be able to cash this environment,” said Bista. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32873 A hushed silence takes over the vivacious ambience at a party when your cocktail glass slips and breaks with a loud clank. Immediately, the fear that you might accidently step on a piece of sharp glass takes over and there is a momentary panic as people try to save themselves from broken glass bits. [break] Now imagine this – An earthquake strikes. Before you have had a chance to grasp what’s happening, your arm bleeds from a cut by a jagged piece of glass that catches you by surprise. You look up to see exploding glass facades and razor sharp bullets of glass coming your way from all directions and you don’t have a moment or a place to escape. Does this scene remind you of a typical Hollywood movie? But it’s not. It can actually happen. Recently the capital has witnessed a surge in buildings with whole front facades of glass. Inspired by international design, mainly those of churches and corporate houses, designers have incorporated glass in their plan without taking any measures to make it safe. “If an earthquake like that of 1934 were to occur again, maximum lives would be lost due to the broken glass panes of buildings. The glass panes might look nice in terms of aesthetics and design but in terms of safety, especially in an earthquake prone country like ours, it is a major flaw,” says Uday Sunder Shrestha, a civil engineer and ex-editor of Spaces, an architectural magazine. Sharmila Shahi, marketing manager at Sunrise Apartments points out that glass is purely used for its aesthetic value. “Glass is appealing for two reasons – the way it looks and the way it allows light to flow into your home. We use simple glass for this purpose,” she said adding that natural disaster is not in anybody’s control and they don’t think in those terms while putting up glass panels in their buildings. Windows are most definitely an important architectural structure and functional components of any building but the likelihood and extent of damage or casualties because of the glass used in them, in case of a major earthquake, is unimaginable. In case of disasters, flying debris is the main cause of the greatest number of injuries with glass posing the biggest threat. Glass fragments can get into the eyes and razor-sharp slivers of glass can even slice bystanders. The thought is what worries Uday who has time and again reiterated his statement of how maximum damage in case of a disaster would be because of these glass facades. Dibya Acharya, final year student of Architecture at Institute of Engineering (IOE) talks about the need for safety while designing a high rise building. “We are taught about the various types of glasses that are available and how they should be incorporated in our design keeping the safety aspect in mind. For exterior design, toughened glass is the best option. I wonder why the buildings that are coming up are not paying any attention to it,” she says shaking her head to show her disapproval. “If I were to design a building I’d focus on the glass and make sure they were strong enough. I fail to understand how such an important aspect of design can be neglected and not given enough importance especially when we all know that an earthquake is inevitable.” The government, however, has set strict standards for the thickness of glass that should be used in high rise buildings. It has till now has given its approval for 18 storied high buildings setting the required thickness of glass panes at six to eight millimeters while the thickness required for a mere three storied high building is five millimeters. Rajendra Khatiwada, an architect at Department of Urban Planning and Building Construction says that though the government has not set codes for the use of glass materials in buildings, the government is concerned about its impact in case of an earthquake. Hence it only approves of building plans after advising the people concerned with the building project about the thickness of glass that should be used. But since there are no strict laws implemented for the use of glass in buildings, Khatiwada is skeptical of the fact that builders are abiding by the rules and incorporating glass of the required thickness in their design plan. Hema Shrestha, structural engineer at National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET) says, “We are aware of the risks glasses pose in case of an earthquake. Damage to infrastructure is not the only potential hazard. Serious injuries and loss of lives could be some of the major treats of the glass facades.” Toughening of glass could be one solution to minimize the risk of breakage and the subsequent damage. The other could be using as less glass materials as possible in buildings chimes in Uday. “If you think about it, whole facades of glass are really not necessary. But if you like the aesthetic value of it, then at least get it toughened.” Safety is the main advantage of toughened glass as it reduces the risk of injury caused by jagged glass shards as large shards of broken glass will not crack off and fly through the air when the glass is broken. Toughened glass is 4-5 times stronger than annealed glass of the same thickness. The procedure of toughening glass involves heating ordinary glass to a very high temperature (around 620 degree Celsius) and cooling it rapidly when it begins to soften. These types of glass not only provide enhanced security to windows but when it breaks it shatters evenly and crumbles into small cuboids that won’t cause any bodily harm. While buildings that are being constructed have the option of toughening the glass that will be used, for the old existing buildings that can’t have their glass replaced an equally good alternative can be protective glazing. “Protective glazing will strengthen the glass to some extent. I’d advise people to get at least one side of their windows laminated if they can’t laminate both sides. For the existing buildings this is a very good option,” says Hema. Lamination or protective glazing can be the perfect solution for protecting the glass windows against the deterioration due to air pollution and for the conservation of energy as glazing also lessens the amount of heat lost through windows. However, the most compelling argument for the installation of protective glazing is to combat breakage. This will minimize breakage however it is not as effective as toughening of glass. Santosh Bisht, technical advisor at Nepal Peace Trust Fund GIZ bought an apartment as an investment at Sunrise Apartments, Dhobighat. Though he does not live there, his parents occasionally do when they are visiting and during those times he worries about their safety. “The building has comparatively smaller windows but glass is glass. Having heard that glass behaves like bullets in case of breakage, I am very worried about my parents’ safety.” The government is also worried about the threat breakage of large glass facades pose and has set up a revision committee to tackle this sensitive issue. “The building code section is making the necessary changes and soon we will seriously start advising people to pay attention to the detail of using toughened glass in their buildings,” shares Khatiwada. “The main reason why toughening of glasses is not being done is because it is a costly method. But building constructors and architects should keep in mind the safety aspect of it and understand that it is not just a good investment but a necessity,” shares Uday. Protective glazing and toughening of glass is simply not a matter of following the building code requirements. The builders should take the safety of the future building occupants and the public alike into consideration and get the glasses tempered or just opt to use less glass else the repercussions of it after a natural disaster will be insurmountable. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32872 When you’ve got a wedding to attend, what are the things you worry about most? How to look your best? How to wrench yourself out of the nagging office schedule? What to buy for present? [break] But do you ever give a thought to learning some dance moves? After all, the best way the guests can keep themselves engaged while bride and groom are busy solemnizing their marriage is by dancing. Dancing not just allows you to enjoy yourself abut also contributes to the fun mood. When you attend a marriage in a group, you are bound to get called or nudged, and sometimes even dragged, to the dance floor. You are not a good dancer, but then you don’t want to disappoint people around you. A wedding without dancing is bland affair and you definitely don’t want to be the spoilsport contributing to the blandness. Not joining the dance will amount to sulking prompting people to say, “Aye telle bhau khojyo. Just ignore him.” So while getting ready for a marriage, it is better to take some time out -- just as you would for other things -- for practicing a few steps rather than be ignored and left out. We all know that not everybody can dance and for some people who have, as they say, two left feet, dancing is a great ordeal. But it is also true that everybody has a hidden desire to dance. Even those with an inflexible body on top of the proverbial two left feet can’t hold themselves from tapping or swaying their body when they listen to a dance number or see other people dance. In fact once you overcome your hesitation, it is not all that complicated. You can pick your steps from host of dance forms like Nepali folk dance, disco dance, Bollywood item song or just jump-on-the-floor. The challenge is to keep trying new moves, especially if you have to attend two three marriages in quick succession. Doing same thing over and over again does seem a little awkward. You’ll find that there are three types of dancers: Khatra dancer, the one who has got awesome moves; carefree dancer, an avid dancer who throws himself completely into the act; and timorous dancer who is a bit hesitant. Khatra dancer is always the most sought after and everybody looks for him to lead the show. But the risk of having a khatra dancer around is that others might just be reduced to clappers as they step aside to watch him dance. On the other hand, a carefree dancer is the one whose energy level is simply unmatched. Not even a khatra dancer can draw the crowd to the floor in a manner a carefree dancer does. But sharing the floor with carefree dancers is a hazardous affair as you might get kicked or slapped for they don’t know where their hands and feet are and often tend to forget there are others around them. At the same time, the timorous dancers, the hesitant ones who prefer to go with the flow, have an advantage over other dancers. Every new move of theirs gets noticed and cheered! As for those who find dancing impossible, they should just let their body do what it wants and not be conscious of what it is doing. Once you shed your inhibitions, you’ll realize dancing really helps to break the ice and get along with people. Besides, it is a great way to make room for extra helpings or burn some calories after having enjoyed sumptuous food. One more thing to remember is that drinking is not the only way to feel high, dancing can lift your spirit just as well. With traffic cops acting tough on drink-driving, learning some dance moves might be the best way to enjoy the parties. The writer is a copy editor at Republica. He admires Gabriel Garcia Marquez and wishes to someday write a novel imitating his style. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32880 National Games, Nepal’s biggest sporting spectacle is an opportunity to develop sports infrastructure, to recognize great athletes and more importantly, to seek emerging talents and raise public awareness about health and fitness. Though started thirty years ago as a biennial event, the recent National Games hosted for the first time by Far-western Region was, however, only its sixth edition. The meet concluded on March 4.[break] Republica’s sports editor Nabin Khatiwada recollects the eight-day event complementing photojournalist Bijay Gajmer’s visual entourage of the National Games. Beautiful Moments: That the far-western region, Nepal’s remotest region, could organize an event of such scale is in itself commendable. Dhangadi, Mahendranagar and Tikapur will enjoy the afterglow of being the host cities as they pulled the best they could to also promote their unique lifestyle and culture and sites of tourism and historical significance. The Sixth National Games marked the beginning of a long-term project of constructing a stadium in Dhangadhi. Two parapets have been completed so far but the prospects of a closed stadium within the next few years look promising. Covered halls in Dhangadhi and Mahendranagar were also renovated, pointing toward positive sports infrastructure development. Some 3,600 athletes from across the country vied for 320 gold medals and as usual, Central Region claimed the top spot with 131 gold medals. The host bettered its results on home ground claiming 23 gold medals and beating all shocks and dramas, by becoming champion in men’s football. To view photogallery Click here Swimmers Shailesh Rana and Shreya Dhital, athletes Pramila Rijal, Tilak Ram Tharu, Siddhant Adhikari and Bishwarupa Budha as well as taekwondo ace Manita Shahi reassured their ace performance. Rana bagged 10 gold and four silver medals while Dhital grabbed eight gold and four silver medals in swimming. Rana set a new national record in men’s 200m individual medley. Rijal, Tharu and Adhikari clinched four golds each. Budha and Shahi each claimed two golds. Sabita Chaudhary set two national records in women’s 100m hurdles and 400m hurdles of athletics. She also won gold in 100x4 relay. Likewise, Tara Devi Pun and Devi Kumari Chaudhary of Nepal Police Club as well as Ram Maya Thapa of PLA Sports Club set new national records in weightlifting in their respective weight categories. Emerging judoka Sunita Magar edged past Olympian and long time champion Debu Thapa in women’s 63 kg. Likewise, Bishal Shrestha stunned the Youth Olympic Games experienced Rajan Shrestha in men’s 58 kg of taekwondo. Emerging shuttler Nangsal Devi Tamang defeated long time champion Puja Shrestha in the women’s singles of badminton. She also claimed gold medals in women’s doubles, mixed doubles and women’s team event. Universities’ basketball teams put up a laudable debut performance. In their first participation at the National Games, the women’s team clinched gold while the men’s team claimed silver. Ugly Moments: The Sixth National Games drew controversy when Nepal Army (NA) pulled out of the event after the inclusion of People’s Liberation Army (PLA) Sports Club as a departmental team. However, NA defended its decision saying their athletes had to focus on the first South Asian Army Sports Meet. Meanwhile, bad management marred the Sixth National Games. Complaints by athletes about improper accommodation facilities, complaints of local civil society leaders about organizers’ ignorance toward their suggestions and grossly choreographed opening ceremony are a few to highlight. Ignoring the worldwide practice of one national association for a game, Nepal Sports Council (NSC) not only registered National Taekwondo Union but also included it in the National Games. Initially, NSC stated it was included only as a demonstration game but after protests in Dhangadhi, NSC was forced to include it in the competitive category. This anarchism under the protection of some Maoist leaders created scenes in Dhangadhi time and again. Meanwhile, some indiscipline and unsporting behaviors were also marked. To put forward an example, Armed Police Force (APF) players disrupted the boxing finals for about half an hour chanting slogans against judges after Far-western’s pugilist Laxman Saud defeated Bikram Pariyar of APF. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32870 This review is really for anyone considering or just purchasing a newer LCD/LED TV that has Internet connectivity built in (as most mid-to-high end models do this year). I just bought a Sony KDL-EZ720 this week, and what excited me the most about my new purchase, outside of the HD & 3D display, was the opportunity to play around with its optional wireless connectivity. When your TV can be connected to the Internet, many interesting possibilities arise, hoina? [break] Well, while I discovered many cool possibles, I also uncovered several impossibles at the moment, and I wanted to cover this to ease your expectations somewhat... First, these newer TVs have tiny Internet applications built into the firmware of your set, which when connected via your home router, can do some interesting things, like display YouTube videos or your Facebook page. So now you can view “Baby Monkey, Baby Monkey, Riding On The Back of a Pig” in full HD and 5.1 surround sound. In addition to the bazillion bad home videos found on YouTube, you can also have your Twitter feed or Facebook notifications displayed side-by-side whilst watching SAW 3D: The Final Chapter. With a new Sony Bravia TV, you can even have all of that at once, using the picture-in-picture feature. The human race has come this far; meet the Smart TV. Putting this silliness aside, a Smart TV has many advantages over one that cannot connect. For example, the firmware of your Smart TV, which by the time you unbox it has undoubtedly been updated with bug fixes and new features, can now be updated from the web in just a few clicks of your remote control. Computers have done this for a decade or more, and now TVs are up to par on the maintenance end. Another advantage that a Smart TV has is the potential to connect to your computer and to display things like photos and movies, and to even play music from your various iPod-like devices. This potential was what first excited, and then arrested my enthusiasm once I got into the try-to-do phase. New Sony Bravia TVs, like the EX720 or NX720 found on the local market, come with a USB dock for your iPhone or iPod - so that gets you a little closer to sharing movies and whatnot from your computer library where you have all stuff stored. Smart, eh? If you are like me, you have a vast music library of MP3 files, and GBs of downloaded movies and TV shows. But loading up a phone or music player with goodies, and then plugging that (or even a flash drive) into your TV for viewing, seems like an added and unwanted step - after all, this is supposed to be entertainment, and not an exercise in geekinease. Yet a Smart TV can get to your computer content directly over a wireless connection, but right now you need an intermediate “thingee” to make that so, such as a media server like the Xstream sold at HD Nepal, or an Apple TV sold at most KTM Apple shops. However, after plunking down over a lakh for the TV, I didn’t relish running out and spending more if I didn’t have to. So after a bit of research, I found another solution that saved me thousands of rupees to essentially do the same thing: stream content from my computer to my new TV. VUZE software (www.vuze.com) is advertised as “the most powerful bittorrent app on earth,” and after seeing the VUZE icon pop-up in my TV settings menu, I am now convinced that they may be right. Here is how it works: you install VUZEPlus on say a laptop, and then download any of the millions of decent HD-quality movies and TV shows available online for free. After they are finished downloading to your computer, they are made available to your TV over your wireless connection. This feature of VUZE will cost you an additional NRs 1,900 per year, as “Device Playback” is only found in the Plus version of the software, and not in the free version. But wow! - rupees well spent to have access to all the true HD content that is being shared by what seems to be everyone on the planet. The VUZE model is simple, you do a Google-like search for any movie or show that you want to watch, select from the available list, and download. This is great for us Nepalis who don’t have access to US-only services like Hula and Netflix. The content found in VUZE is top-notch, and TV commercials have already been trimmed out, thus avoiding the brain-drain of watching an endless stream of Star TV Fair & Lovely adverts. In short, while I just love my new Sony EX720 – kudos out to Bikram at the Sony Kantipath showroom – I’m disappointed that my Smart TV came out of the box slightly retarded. But with the innovative software package VUZE, at least I did not have to run out and buy a media server or some other doohickey just to get to the media library stored on my computer, and instead, I can simply download quality content that I want to watch, and then be onto the show. Jiggy Gaton is quirky kinda techo-expat, who thinks his TV should do more than play Fair & Lovely commercials every few minutes. For more info, see www.jiggygaton.info http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32869 Writing is believed to have been ‘invented’ between seventh and fourth millennium BC. As early as the third millennium BC the citizens of Mesopotamia (comprising of present-day Iraq, southwestern Iran, southeastern Turkey and northeastern Syria) were using clay tablets to inscribe characters before baking the claywork dry. Through numerous twists and turns in the evolution of written words and various forms of books they spawned, we now arrive at the latest avatar, e-books.[break] The time of its origin is contested, but the e-book came into existence sometime between 1940 and 1960. In those days e-books could only be read on cumbersome gadgets built on vast electronic circuitry. Only with the launch of the e-book readers (with fancy names like ‘Rocket e-book’ and the ‘SoftBook Reader’) in Silicon Valley in 1998 did the concept snake its way into scientific lexicon. But it would be another decade before the concept caught on. The watershed moment was the 2007 launch of Amazon Kindle. Basically, the Kindle and other similar products launched in its wake, offer a reading platform, ideally the size of a single paperback page. The aim was to recreate, as far as possible, the experience of reading a real book. Much like paper absorbs most light that falls on it and makes words on it easy on the eye, the e-book reader reflects just enough light to avoid glare from the smooth white surface. The Kindle (Kindle Touch in my case) weighs under a third of a kilogram and packs in up to 1,500 books at a time. (Just the thought of the space so many paper books would consume boggles the mind.) Yet many distinguished authors and publishers continue to hold e-books in utter contempt. “Maybe nobody will care about printed books 50 years from now, but I do. When I read a book, I’m handling a specific object in a specific time and place,” says Jonathan Franzen, the acclaimed American novelist of The Corrections and Freedom fame. Initially, I wasn’t exactly sold on the idea of an electronic book either. Still I took the trouble of asking my sister in the States to get a Kindle for me. It was a gamble. I was afraid that like all those gadgets (camcorders, laptops, cameras, DVD-ROMs) I bought only to discover a few weeks into their use I wanted them no more—that the cravings were more flings than true love—my experience with the Kindle would be no different. It’s been over a month since. So far so good, sis. As luck would have it, the first e-book I read was Christopher Hitchens’ shoot-from-the-hip autobiography Hitch 22. Riveting from the first page (screen one?). Simultaneously, I was onto Nabokov’s Lolita, which I was reading for the second time. To my surprise, I found that the little e-thingy in my hand in no way blunted Hitchens’ stinging criticism of ‘fanatic’ Mother Teresa or take anything away from the biting jabs at the ‘war criminal’ Henry Kissinger; nor did it, for those who fuss about the fiction-nonfiction divide, dilute Nabokov’s eerie eroticism. Not in the least bit. In the first few days, yes, reading a book ‘on screen’ did feel a little weird. I seemed to be missing all the qualities the purists attribute to paper books: the tactile sensuality of each volume, the musty whiff of worn-out pulp, the rustling sound of turning over a leaf, the satisfaction of riffling through a certain number of pages... I shouldered on. After a first few days, I was smitten. In no time at all I had come to view reading the e-book as natural as going through the real thing. In due course, I have also come to savor the satisfaction that comes from pushing myself a little harder, to flip one more e-page, and another, and another and another. Since the Kindle doesn’t display page numbers I don’t know how far into the book I am (although it does display the percentage of read material, it’s as good as university calculus for someone who’s come to dread maths, thanks to his quick-on-the-cane tutors). Take my case of ‘e-reading’ Hitch 22. Only after I finished the book did I learn, on a quick Google search, the darn thing sprawled over all of 448 pages, which, you might agree, is as far as one can push himself on a non-fiction. Even coming from someone of Hitchens’ intellectual heft. Once again, I found the charm of the unknown working its dirty little magic on me. And e-books come cheap: at under half the price of the conventional book. Bar a little scruple of cutting into the authors’ razor-thin margins, you might, as an under-read citizen of a woefully underdeveloped country (in muddled transition, no less), even find it convenient to download an e-book or two from one of the flourishing pirate sites, absolutely free of cost. That gets me to which of the two versions (the old or the new) is ‘better’. First, you tell me: What does your imagination indulge? I know. I too have this thing for the pulp. Yet, as I have learned, a screen of black Arial squiggles at a time, an e-reader doesn’t necessarily eat into the appeal of the more conventional reading. If my case is any indicator, the Kindle can even spur one to read more. In other words, the more I read on my Kindle, the more paper books I want to read too; the nostalgia of the hidebound is still too strong to brush aside. Likewise, I find the bickering on ‘aesthetics’ a tad puzzling. Yes, there is a kind of glamour to hunkering down with a 600-page monster. But the novella-sized Kindle, I find, can be no less tempting. The caress of its smooth, ash-color frame; the consummate ease with which I can flick a new page into existence; the conceit of indulging in the unconventional... The sex appeal is unmatched. But a word of caution: Although Amazon’s sales pitch makes it sound safe as a house I am far from convinced the e-book reader does not put extra load on my already over-worked eyes. Quibbles aside, the whole point behind the development of e-book reader was to add to the convenience of ardent readers. I have not had to make the hard choice thus far. For just in case my eyes tire of the ‘devil in disguise’, I can always toss it aside for a healthy helping from my bedside bookshelf. The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32868 What is that, anyway? I have officially ventured out into a 19-hourlong journey, minus the transit time, earlier today. To begin with, I was already overwhelmed by the hours on board that awaited me. Moreover, concerns over what kind of food I would be served, whether or not I would get by all the passport control and stringent bureaucratic procedures smoothly, had started clouding my expected excitement way before my journey even began.[break] It’s no easy business, I think, traveling. There’s so much to do, so much to think about – just so much work. So right now, in the pits of my traveling woes, I feel the need to question the validity of the whole travel light concept. What does it mean to travel light, anyway? And if you’re thinking in your head, “What an idiot the writer is; does she not realize that it means to take only the bare minimum and absolute essential in your travels,” then I’ll ask you to tell me what exactly bare minimum encompasses. What would be some items that you would absolutely need to pack? I for one haven’t been able to figure this out, and as a result, haven’t been able to master the art of traveling light. Packing, for me, is always such a grandiose affair. Of course, when I have to leave the house even for a few days, every irrelevant and trivial belonging seems meaningful and important. Now, even if I just list the number of essentials that most people like to bring along, it’ll prove my point that traveling is never light. It’s actually very heavy: sometimes heavy enough for you to have to ensure a hefty freight charge. This was what happened to one of my traveling buddies a while ago when she exceeded her weight limit by a rather petty amount. The aircrew was not even willing to let a few kilos slide by for my poor friend. The only option was handing out some Benjamins, and of course, it was nothing a few dollars couldn’t settle. Anyhow, earlier in the day, there I was packing very selectively the most important pieces of clothing. I made extra sure that all the things I had were high on repeat value and were the handiest, most comfortable and at the same time, not lacking in style. I was all set to “travel light” and travel comfortably for I felt it was high time I found out how to do it.  At the end of the affair, I met the weight requirements, had a sturdy carryon bag and seemed pretty much all set for the rest of the day or the rest of the journey. But, as the day dragged on, and as the procedures and rules and check-ins and the lines started flowing in, out started flowing the entire travel light opinion. Even though I had handpicked all of my outfits and the rest of the attires to go with it, ensuring that I had only the absolute essentials, my carryon bag felt as heavy as a rock and my handbag seemed as messy as a teenager’s room for I couldn’t find a single document I was looking for when it was needed the most. It seems to me that when you have something like getting yourself from one country to another in front of you, you’re bound to get stressed regardless of how light (or not) you’re traveling. Yes, the rules are hectic, the procedures too much. But wait till I tell you about another kind of problem that challenged my attempt to “travel light.” The people. Amidst all existing confusion, the people you’re likely to encounter in a long, long journey seem to be terminally upset, I feel. Smile at them, and the most you’ll get back is a stare. Sure, not everyone fits under what I’m describing here, but I think I can safely claim that the tendency to be crotchety increases in a person when s/he’s traveling. There are too many opportunities to mess up; so people seem to be on their toes at all times – not to forget the sleep deprivation and (for some) food deprivation that add to their cantankerous behavior. Also, to be up in the air and to have to write back to meet a deadline (in line with the time difference) is some kind of experience, I tell you. But then again, it’s not always that I get to write articles several thousand feet above the ground. Moreover, to have to go through all the transits in different cities with the changing times, changing cultures and changing policies becomes an affair too hard to keep up with. I did try to make the whole “travel light” option a success: I attempted it and I tried to be as compact as I possibly could. Yet there was no escaping the burden of traveling, no escaping the stress that comes with it. To add to this, all the loathsome checking that actually necessitated taking off shoes and watches were catalysts to further fuel my angst against traveling. Given, traveling is awesome; also a given, it’s a lot of fun. But just to go back to the real reality of things, especially since I’m going through it at this precise moment, traveling continuously for two days seems a bit too much. And there I was thinking the world had become one global village and how easy traveling had become all thanks to the indoctrinating concept of globalization! Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32881 The Many Sides Of My Braces UJJWALA MAHARJAN “Do you have any medical condition (allergies, prescribed medication, dietary or other personal considerations) we should be aware of?” read a question in a form I had filled some months ago. Tricky question, I thought, and duly replied: None. Except, I have orthodontic braces![break] I am still not sure if having braces is actually a “medical” condition. That term (for me at least) sounds too serious. Especially in regards to my braces which has been a matter of more comical conversations (Read: butt of jokes) than serious ones. After a year of having them though I now have the wisdom to be the first person to LOL anytime anyone has a new joke on my metallic grin. Can’t deny, there have been some funny ones. And some of the discoveries I’ve made about braces are how it can startle, surprise and amuse children here and become great conversation starters. Just a few days ago as I was speed walking to catch a tempo, I slipped and Splatt! Down was I on the floor (happens a lot with me). As I quickly gathered myself trying not to look embarrassed I noticed a school girl giggling at me. I couldn’t help but smile myself but as soon as I flashed my grin, the girl went – “Abuiii” and scurried off. I was the one unabashedly giggling after that. On tempos and microbuses too, I have children staring at my mouth. Their curious eyes ask for it so when their parents are not looking I’ll entertain them with an encore of my wide grin. Some will look away; some will wait for another one. Some brave ones will ask, “Why do you have that in your mouth?” and there- I have a chatting companion throughout the ride. The most interesting of these experiences was when I was at a children’s hospital. Some children undergoing treatment had to wear painful looking metal contraptions in their legs to cure their bone deformities. I was curiously staring at the metal poles that dug deep into their skin and bones imagining how painful it must be and feeling sorry for them. As I shifted my gaze to their faces, however, I found them staring at my teeth with equal intrigue and a look that clearly read “Awww, poor girl!” “How do you eat?” is another frequent question they ask me. I still haven’t been able to laugh that one off. I seriously miss biting into my food rather than being a weirdo who uses a fork and a knife to have a sandwich. I Wish I Were Still In Bed CILLA KHATRY I am not a morning person. Let me admit this right away. There is something about early mornings that just messes with my system. My mother, on the other hand, wakes up at four to do yoga! Imagine the pressure that puts on me. Well, not really. I still wake up at nine. (My mother will say 10 but for her any time after 9:01 is 10) I am writing this at 2 in the morning so it’s safe to say that I don’t go to bed till the wee hours. The point I am trying to make is that though I go to bed late and wake up late, I sleep as much as any ‘normal’ person does. But that’s not a healthy habit, they say. Well, that’s how my system has been functioning for years and I am perfectly healthy. I am not advising you to do as I do. I am just saying it works for me. I’ve also come to realize that I am more productive during the night than in the mornings. There is something about the silence at night that calms me down and washes me with an I-can-do-this-no-matter-how-difficult-it-seemed-during-the-day attitude. Except when occasionally some stray cats make horrifying whiny noises that only cats are capable of making, I am pretty much content and doing my work diligently. This habit of mine gets me in a lot of trouble when I have to wake up early though. And by early I mean as early as six. Who in the right frame of mind gets up or would want to get up at six? Anyways, sometimes you have to compromise in life. I guess. Getting up at six feels like I’ve been summoned from hell. The minute I am out of bed till mid-day I’ll just be wishing I were still in bed. As a result, I am cranky, snap at people for tiniest reasons, get nothing accomplished, people think I am rude and by the end of the day, I feel like I haven’t slept for ages. And some people still tell me to go to bed early and wake up early. Are you listening, some people? As long as you get your work done and your health does not suffer, I don’t think your sleeping pattern should be guided by the sun, moon or stars. Nor is it fair that you are (like me) termed ‘spoiled’ based on your timetable. If being an early bird is what you prefer, so be it, but if working until three in the morning and waking up late is what rocks my boat, please let it. Sense Of Direction   NISTHA RAYAMAJHI Most of you will agree if I said that it’s really difficult to find a given address in Kathmandu. The urban settlements in the valley have spread in such a haywire manner that you end up wasting a lot of time locating a new destination. It was not long ago that I had to reach a wedding reception and on top of that I had to make it to the venue during the peak traffic hour of the evening. I hopped on to my cousin’s scooter and we drove off toward New Baneshwar. On our way, I had to make a number of phone calls to my family to let them guide me to the location. My cousin was losing her patience as she had to hit the brakes and make turns at various points. My family members handed over the phone to a relative since they could not explain the location. My relative seemed exasperated for failing to define the place to me. She described the place as opposite to the Conference hall. But my point was that there are many sides of the conference hall, so the opposite from exactly which side? After many failed guesses, the relative asked us to just stay there and came to fetch us. That’s how we finally made it to the wedding. On reaching there, my cousin and I were told that we were not smart enough to find the place. But, this was just one case. There are many instances, when I have heard that my friends, cousins including me have failed to locate places. There are cases when people who guide you to a location tell you that it is in a narrow alley right beside the so and so colored house and alongside a number of cold stores. How on earth, would that make sense? In many countries, the houses and places have a fixed number and the addresses are apt. But here, it is different not the same. Which makes me think -- do we really have a bad sense of direction or can we just blame it on the way our city has been built? http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32866 A wild, out-of-this-world carnival experience with a mix of music, vibrant people, balmy weather and not too far away, Goa is just what you need if you’re looking to get past all that went awry the past year and embrace the coming one with celebrations to cheer you up and begin afresh on a thumping note. Oh well, for those who’ve had a rollicking year, get here and let it all culminate in a Goa trance.[break] Contrast that against taking an early morning walk on the beach, wet sand between your toes, swaying palm trees as your backdrop and a panoramic view of sunrise on the horizon, listening to the unique happy singing of the fishermen. Have a hearty meal and laze around reading a book, collect seashells, make sandcastles or soak in the sun after a swim in the Arabian Sea during the day. As evening falls, make friends at a karaoke in a beach shack and enjoy the tourists’ favorite locally brewed drink – Feni, Goan liquor made from either coconut or cashew. (I would recommend cashew!) Goa can be your quiet refuge and your adventurous outing all in one vacation! Goa is oft considered an outing for the young and frivolous. There’s no denying that and maybe that stems from the hippie culture so inherent to Goa. While it used to be the hippie paradise in the 1960s with Europeans in rags walking around the town high, perhaps on life. Goa, for better or worse, has been gentrified. Fine dining in suave modern restaurants with jazz music is also part of Goa now. However, the search for the last hippie standing also begins in Goa. The culture that is so close to Goa’s history might have frizzled away in recent times but remnants of it still linger in the local music, happy-go-lucky nature of Goans, the weekly flea market that sells jewelry, clothes and accessories that breathe hippie. Goa runs in parallel two completely different worlds. No wonder it has a curious mix of Indian and international tourists and makes for a great experience. Wearing sunhats, huge sunglasses and flip-flops complete with lots of sunscreen, a beach bag with grub, we drove around in hired scooters and taxis. We, all girls eager to explore beyond what meets the eye, had researched a bit before we took a train ride from Bombay to Goa. We stayed at the Calangute Beach in North Goa which is close to all the activities and bustling till late. If you’re someone who likes the safety of touristy things to do, then Calangute is perfect. Accessible, popular and where all the action is, including water sports. Don’t worry if you don’t know how to swim. People who run these water adventures are professional lifeguards and accompany you for the most part. The jet skiing gives you a rush but before you realize it, like most good things, it ends! There is parasailing, the banana boat ride, all packaged with varying prices depending on the season. Off-season prices range from Rs. 300 to Rs. 500 while in the peak season, it goes as high as Rs. 1,500. Remember to bargain and you’ll have a deal at hand! Calangute Beach is crowded and a little dirty but a ten-minute walk along the coast will bring you to Baga which is serene and lined with some of the best shack restaurants and bars. I would recommend Baga Beach. The waves are calmer and the beach cleaner with less people around. Karoake till 3 am at Tito’s and chasing each other on the beach post that, we had an amazing time. I was surprised by cheeky schoolboys walking up to you offering weed and dedicating songs but that’s just part of growing up! You just give them a piece of your mind and long hard stare and they’ll vanish in a jiffy. Nightlife at other places like Candolim and Arpora are chic with Bombay-style discos. You’ve got to decide what you want, and Goa will deliver! I, for most part, stayed in the north of Goa and only saw old Goa in passing. This once Portuguese colony flaunts exquisite yet crumbling architecture in the cathedrals that line South Goa. The Aguada Fort is also a much visited place. The highlight is the spoon-like structure that goes into the sea, and if you walk up to the edge of it, you’ll feel like you’re standing amidst the roaring waves lapping against it. Its lighthouse is one of the oldest in Asia and the climb up the winding staircase is worth the effort for the fantastic views of the surrounding white sand Sinquerim and Candolim beaches. If you’re a Kingfisher fan, here’s a small trivia: Mr. Vijaya Mallya has a palatial beach mansion on the Candolim Beach. We all grew up to that scene from Dil Chahta Hai where the three lead actors sit on ruins on a hill, overlooking the sea. That perfect picture is from the Chapora Fort which is in Goa. It’s a steep walk up to the fort which is in shambles with no trace or sign of human existence. There’s an eerie feeling to this place as with most ruins, but sitting on one of the crumbling walls and staring out into the coastline with the view of the waves splashing sans the sound since you’re so far away from the coast, is a memorable image. The beach at the bay of this hill is Little Vagator. It was long thought to be one of the best and most scenic beaches in Goa but has lost some of its charms to the filth it now accumulates. On the other side is the Anjuna Beach – the last retreat of the hippies – and you can feel every bit of it in the flea market. Curlies and Shiva Valley are two of the most popular joints on the Anjuna where the most popular New Year parties are held and promoted as trance parties. During the day, too, it’s the best place to be if you’re into psychedelic trance and ambient music. If there’s any place in Goa where the hippie culture is still thriving, it’s at Anjuna, and you have to be here during the evening to late night to understand, see and be part of it! The flea markets on Wednesdays and Saturdays bring out people from the dark and a place that is silent over the day becomes a cultural hub by late night. Mentioning Goa isn’t possible without talking about their quintessential foods and the cheerful, helpful, talkative Goans. Marinated in lots of spices and cooked in coconut oil, seafood here is every food lover’s delight, albeit only if you’re a non-vegan! The Goan mackerel/prawn curry makes me salivate. Goa’s vindaloo recipes are famous the world over, but tasting the Goan Pork Vindaloo in Goa, where it originates, was a surreal experience. Goans live life to the fullest, are content in their own worlds, making you feel happy about yourself with their wide grins, colorful clothes and glittery eyes. Goa was a mixed bag for me – from the water sports that thrill, to the waters that calm, the spade and bucket for children to make sandcastles, a nap on the beach for the parents, and a treasure trove for the curious young! http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32865 You think you are daring enough for having tried the spiciest and hottest of Chhoyla (Smoked meat) around the valley? You have tried nothing unless you’ve tasted the lip smacking, hot and sour Kachyula (raw minched meat) at Myakaji Newari Khaja. Located at Pinchhen tole, a hidden corner of Patan, the landmark closest to the Newari food joint is the Kathmandu University School of Management (KUSOM) building. [break] Right after you climb the steep road from KUSOM, you’ll see the famous joint at the right side with its blue board and green curtains. In business now for 17 years, the joint is run by the father and son duo – Myakaji Maharjan and Sanu Bhai Maharjan with the female members of the house helping out occasionally. At any given time of the year, they serve 17 dishes that include- their specialty Kachyula – whereas the hot one will have you whistling and blowing smoke from your ears; the not so spicy one has a more subtle flavor. Their buff sukuti (dried meat), chhoyla, mann chhoyla (boiled meat), dakyu la (meat curry) are other buff items with distinctive flavors of different spices (their secret ingredients) that keep their customers from as far as Bouddha and Buddhanilkantha coming back for more. “We use up 22 kilos of buff meat daily for our buff items, beside other meat items such as fish and chicken curry,” says Sanu Bhai. Meat aside, their spicy potato, chhyalcha (gravy of potatoes, bamboo shoots and different beans) and Kerau achar (small green peas pickle) is also an appetizing treat for the vegetarians. Mostly served with chiura (beaten rice), a full Newari set will cost you Rs 100 that includes, chhoyla, kachyula, bhatmas sandeko (soyabean), achar, chhalcha and bara (lentil pancake). But, the joint has been famous for takeaways that you can order for as much price as you want from Rs 10 and above. The daily preparation starts as early as seven in the morning and the feast of 16-17 dishes is ready till 11am. They close at 8 to 8:30pm but most of their dishes will have run out by 4 or 5pm. Mid afternoon, therefore, is the best time to indulge yourself in the spicy Newari feast at Myakaji. Make sure you have a bottle of cold water or a sweet drink though, so that you don’t burn your tongue mid way through the meal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32635 When Shailendra Parajuli, 32, from Kathmandu discovered that his wife was pregnant with their fourth child, he blamed his wife for not taking adequate birth control measure and didn’t speak to her for two months. The fear of not being able to support his family on his modest salary as a salesman took over him and he vented his anger on his wife who had had to get her intrauterine device (IUD) removed after she experienced excruciating pain and heavy bleeding during her periods.[break] “How could she let this happen to our family? I lived in a constant stage of outrage until she decided to have an abortion,” says Parajuli. The notion that reproduction is primarily a woman-related issue is still largely prevalent in our society and that men have zero responsibility for birth control and hence women’s reproductive health and family planning as well.. To add to that, there are only a few male-oriented contraceptives available as compared to the large number of methods for females. In a culture that is male-dominated, women end up bearing the brunt of birth control, whether their health permits them or not. Vasectomy, condoms, abstinence, or withdrawal – the choice for men is limited but it is without notable side effects; even then, the rate of prevalence of male contraception is low. “This is mainly due to lack of awareness and opposition from husbands,” says Dr Aruna Karki, Head of Department at the Gynecology Ward at Kathmandu Model Hospital, Bag Bazaar. In a society where men still make most of the decisions where family is concerned, women like Parajuli’s wife have little say in matters like birth control. Parajuli chose not to even use a condom and relied on his wife to take the necessary precautions despite her health issues. His wife, on the other hand, had suffered from nausea and headache when she was using contraceptive pills and had an IUD inserted which also had to be removed due to complications. She had requested Parajuli to opt for sterilization but he had been vehemently opposed to such an idea. “What could I have done? I had tried all the methods of contraception but they never worked for me and gave me health scares instead,” says Parajuli’s wife who now resorts to emergency contraception after every intercourse. Even emergency contraception has its toll on her and she suffers from dysmenorrhea and irregular periods. Female-based contraceptives like pills, injectables, norplant and IUDs come with a fair share of side effects which also differ from woman to woman. But the most common side effects are nausea, headache, irregular bleeding, weight gain and breast tenderness. These methods also provide no protection against sexually transmitted diseases which is why couples are advised to use condoms even if they are using other contraceptive methods, as condoms protect both users and their partners against most STDs. Many men, however, complain of irritation and less satisfaction and choose to do without it. In some cases, the preference of a son is also one of the causes for certain couples not using any contraceptive methods. Sudha Poudel, program officer at Family Planning Association of Nepal (FPAN), narrates the case of a highly educated couple in Battis Putali, Kathmandu, where even after four daughters they were still not using any method of birth control – all in the hope for a son. “I’ve seen that a son is a necessity mostly for men and low use of contraceptive methods due to this is generally the husband’s decision,” shares Poudel. According to the United Nations, only 3% of married couples rely on male sterilization and only 3% use condoms in developing nations. Even worldwide, four times as many female sterilizations are performed as vasectomies. In the context of Nepal, however, according to Karki, families opt for female sterilization most of the times; and even in cases where the husband is willing to undergo vasectomy, it is the wives who oppose the idea. “They are worried that vasectomies will make their men weak and unable to work and hence incapable to support the family,” Karki adds. Vasectomy is simpler, safer and requires half the time needed for female sterilization. It is also relatively free of side effects, and even if there are some minor side effects, they disappear within one or two weeks without any treatment. Oftentimes, men don’t volunteer for vasectomy due to the fear of castration or loss of masculinity. But vasectomy does not affect the production of male hormones, so there is no change in their physical traits. Most men are, however, unaware of this. Resistance from men is not the only cause for popularity of female sterilization, compared to vasectomy. In Nepal, it is also due to less focus on men in birth control by the government and family planning services. Poudel points out that in a male-dominated society like Nepal, there is a lack of awareness among men about their role in birth control. Men are hesitant to go for surgery when there are options available that require no effort from their side. This usually means that females are the ones showing interest in taking precautions because they either don’t want to get pregnant early into a marriage or don’t want more children. “This is the reason why birth control in Nepal is women-centric. It’s the woman who faces the stigma of unwanted pregnancy in the society, not the man. So it’s mostly women who take matters like birth control seriously,” says Poudel who also mentions that though this is the scenario in Nepal, FPAN makes sure they focus equally on men and women while advocating family planning. Dr Shilu Aryal, Senior Consultant of OB/GYN at Family Health Division at the Ministry of Health and Population wholeheartedly agrees with Poudel’s statement and adds that it is because women are more pregnancy conscious that birth control measure is sought after more by them than their male counterparts. Nepal has the highest maternal mortality rate, and the practice of unsafe abortions is still ongoing as women choose to visit abortion ‘providers’ rather than clinics that have highly trained professionals due to the stigma attached to abortions. Before the legalization of abortion in 2002, unsafe abortion was the leading cause of mortality in pregnant women. Today, even after a decade, the case is very much the same as many women are still unaware of safe abortion procedures. With most men choosing not to use even the simplest method of contraception such as condoms and relying on their wives for birth control, the rate of unwanted pregnancy is still high. Since this is the case, there is a great need for birth control and family planning to reduce the risks of unwanted pregnancy and subsequent abortion. Karki feels that men need to be motivated and counseled to take up birth control. “If a well-run vasectomy service is easily accessible, then men can be convinced to opt for sterilization after a couple has had the desired number of children,” adds Karki. “This would reduce the number of unwanted pregnancy and abortion and the state of the country’s reproductive health will enhance.” Men need to understand that their participation in family planning is as necessary and important as a woman’s contribution and not just think of family planning as a woman’s domain. Only then will the situation of women’s reproductive health show any signs of improving. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32634 Days go by peacefully in the village of Munalbasti, in western Nepal.It has not always been the case in this community. The village sits in the Bardiya district, which in Nepal registered the biggest number of missing persons during the war which raged in the country from 1996 to 2006. This is where Laxmi Devi Khadka has lived for the last 17 years, and where she got married.[break] But nowadays, she takes care of her three children on her own.Her husband disappeared in 2003, taken from their home by Maoist insurgents, during the civil war which ended the Nepalese monarchy. “I have a photo of my husband. Just a small one. My daughter took the small photo of her Baba, and turned it into a big one. I look at the photo every day.” More than 10 years after her husband went missing, the pain is still strong. But uncertainty is even harder to bear. “I have not been able to find the dead body of my husband, not even any mortal remains. Until I am able to see the body, I have hopes that my husband may be somewhere, and may come back home. I have few hopes, but there is hope until you see something. He was taken during the night, in just five minutes. And, when the dogs bark at that time of the night, I think, it was that at same time that he was taken away, it could be him coming back.” After her husband’s disappearance, Laxmi planted a tree in his memory. Every day, she continues to pray for his return. According to international aid organisations, more than 3,000 people were reported missing during the conflict. The fate of over a third of them is still unknown. Aside from the psychological impact, social and economic consequences are harsh for the families of missing people. “If no body or remains are found, we cannot proceed to the funeral rites. Given the circumstances, I can’t perform the burial rites. Many who look at it from the perspective of their religion and culture, gossip and backbite against me for wearing red clothes, or bangles, though there’s no proof of my husband’s death. There’s also some land in his name. But the custom is that you need to produce a death certificate for transfer of land ownership. However, I can’t be sure that my husband is dead, so I can’t provide a death certificate.” Laxmi has gone to all the Maoist leaders, political parties and human rights groups in the district to find out what happened to her husband. His kidnapper is known. Her search means she still gets threats. After years of effort, with the help of human rights organisations, she got compensation, and citizenship papers for her children, which were lost after her husband disappeared. They are not entitled to free education. The same applies to Devi Sara’s children, who still do not have citizenship. Their father disappeared after being arrested by the police during the conflict, accused of supporting the Maoists. Devi and Laxmi, whose husbands were on opposite sides, now campaign together in the ‘Conflict Victim Committee’ of Bardiya district, working to help families suffering similar ordeals. The two women became friends during group therapy sessions staged by humanitarian organisations for relatives of missing persons. “Before that, I was thinking that we cannot do anything and we cannot give our children a good education. After I met all my sisters I started to think that now we have to do something, we have to move forward for justice after finding common ground,” said Devi. The work of women such as Laxmi and Devi is beginning to bear fruit, but there is much yet to be achieved. They are waiting for the peace and reconciliation committee’s work to be enforced by law, for the rights of conflict victims to be effectively recognised. “For a long time we walked this road all alone. Now we are walking in search of justice as victims from both sides of the conflict. This is equally beautiful. We share grief with each other. We cannot always sit and cry!” said Devi. “You console my heart and I console yours. We will look after our children, we will move forward. We should not lose hope. We must move ahead. The state will one day do us justice,” agreed Laxmi. That concludes our Nepalese edition of ‘Women and War.’ Next month we report from Afghanistan. “You console my heart and I console yours. We will look after our children, we will move forward. We should not lose hope. We must move ahead. The state will one day do us justice,” agreed Laxmi. That concludes our Nepalese edition of ‘Women and War.’ Next month we report from Afghanistan. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32632 When Tirupati Balaji came visiting last month, thousands of devotees thronged to the Open Air Theatre in Kathmandu to witness the Lord Venkateswara marry his two consorts Sridevi and Bhudevi on a platform bedecked with marigolds. The presiding deity of Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanam in Andhra Pradesh (India) had travelled earlier to places like Kuwait, UAE, UK and the US to grant audience to adherents living abroad. [break] However, Kathmandu was the first venue outside the country of Lord Balaji’s permanent residence to hold the nuptial Kalyanotsav ceremonies between divinities. Female devotees in the open ground provided an air of authenticity to the wedding atmosphere. French existentialist Simone de Beauvoir famously argued that it was not women’s inferiority that had determined their historical insignificance; rather it was their historical insignificance that had doomed them to inferiority. Religion has been one of the most powerful tools of subjugating women over the ages. Cultures reduce the Second Sex—Beauvoir’s term for women—to the secondary status. Yet, most women accept subordinate position without question. The uppercase deity is always Him. His prophets have all been men. Authoritative interpreters of scriptures have to be scholars of the dominant gender. However, women continue to believe that they are the keepers of tradition. Ascetic schools put so much emphasis upon purity that when a female is accepted into a religious order; she has to spend her life in the dread of pollution. Menstruation expels the living goddess Kumari from her sacred sanctum. Marriage disqualifies both monks and nuns, but even violent assault on sexuality can stigmatise a woman. The controversy over a young Buddhist nun, who was gang-raped inside a bus in Khandbari in eastern Nepal and then told by monks that she could not aspire to be an Ani anymore because she did not remain a virgin, is fresh in collective memory. The law has since taken its course. The district court in Sankhuwasabha recently sent the perpetrators of the heinous crime to jail. Full rehabilitation of the victim in the religious order of her choice is still awaited. Worldly interpreters of the Enlightened One assert, as an official of Nepal Buddhist Federation had declared in the aftermath of the tragedy, “A vessel that is damaged once can no longer be used to keep water…”! It is not that women do not realise that religions perpetuate unequal gender relations. Lord Venkateswara boasts of two consorts, as do many other Hindu deities. Muslims refer to twelve wives of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) as Mothers of the Believers. In contrast, even a mythical figure like Draupadi—the real protagonist of Mahabharata—becomes a butt of ridicule for having had five husbands. Despite such oddities, deities flicker like lamps in the darkness and provide some light even though very little warmth wafts to the travails of women in tradition-bound societies. The first prophet of Marxism describes the irony very accurately: “Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions.” It is possible to contest Marx’s conclusion that religion is the opium of the people. Politics is no less of an intoxicant and communism is perhaps more potent drug than any other dogma known to humanity. Religion has a delirious effect, but at least it carries a promise of salvation. Communism demands total submission with little freedom for withdrawal from the faith. However, the Mahatma of Marxism provides a better framework of appreciating the inescapability of religion than preachers of various faiths. For women, religion has indeed been the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering at the same time. That may explain the lure of faiths that draw women to places of gods, assemblies of preachers and sites of rituals in droves. Custodians of culture In stark contrast to the liberating feel of religious rituals where male priests and their minions attend to most chores, Hindu festivals are often stifling for women. Dashain is the time for autumnal cleaning and ritual sacrifice, tasks that keep women of the house engaged long before and much after the actual festivities. Cleaning and housekeeping continues right up to Tihar, which brings loads of work for the homemaker. Holi revelries are usually all-male affairs. On the day of Holi this year, women cooked goats on kerosene stoves. Despite assurances of the government, LPG cylinders are still difficult to get. Chicken is easier in the kitchen when facing fuel scarcity. But bird-flue scare is keeping consumers away from the fowl. Unconcerned with the predicaments of homemakers, men cursed politicos over rounds of drink accompanied with piping hot savouries supplied endlessly from the kitchen. Holi gets even more male-centric as brats take to the streets throwing water missiles at anything that walks and wears a saree, a pair of salwar-kameez, a set of jeans and tees, or any other gender-specific ensembles such as shirts or tops over skirts. Women take pride in being custodians of culture, and they seem to bear not just the burden but even brunt of festivities with an equanimity that defies explanation. Drawing from strictures of scriptures, men exercise exclusive authority in religion. After all, authority is the right to make a decision and have it obeyed with the use of force if necessary. Men have historically controlled most instruments of coercion. Priesthood is a lucrative profession; hence, it has been reserved for male of the species. Power makes the use of force unnecessary: An order is obeyed even before it is formally conveyed. The power to consecrate too lies with men in almost all organised religions. Women, however, have created some space within gaps in the Hindu religion whereby they exercise considerable influence, which is the capacity to impose a decision in the name expertise, experience or manipulative abilities. No yagya is considered complete unless it is performed in the company of the consort. Astrologers decide auspicious date and time. Priests chant holy mantras from appropriate scriptures. However, when it comes to rituals specific to a family during rites of passage such as birth, sacred-thread or marriage ceremonies, elder women of the house have the last word. Little wonder, grandmas impatiently wait for joyful events in the family. In addition to the attention that festivities and ceremonies focus upon the womenfolk, such occasions create diversion from the drudgery and dull routine of a homemaker’s life. Families from both sides of the marriage come together. Distant relatives congregate. Everybody comes to know about college going kids and children who would be reaching marriageable age. Cousins in powerful positions can be implored to help the less privileged while they still can. Without the forum of cultural ceremonies, women of the extended family would have little opportunity to socialize and test their influence in social affairs. Culture is politics of the most enduring kind. That could be the reason women bear all its burdens with fortitude. Promise of secularism Much of the opposition to secularism is born out of false assumptions. Contrary to popular conception, secularism is not a synonym of atheism. It has been argued that Christ was a being a secularist when he ordained, “Render unto Caesar.” In that sense, secularism merely separates temporal obligations from spiritual responsibilities of a conscientious person. Mahatma Gandhi once said that those who thought religion had nothing to do with politics understood neither religion nor politics. The Mahatma elaborates the importance of religiosity without sectarianism for a harmonious society in a succinct manner, “Religion and state will be separate. I swear by my religion, I will die for it. But it is my personal affair. The state has nothing to do with it. The state will look after your secular welfare, health, communications, foreign relations, currency and so on, but not your or my religion. That is everybody’s personal concern”. Once this distinction is institutionalized, a woman would be free from burdens of history. When survival depended upon fight or flight, a pregnant or lactating mother had a definitive disadvantage. Man emerged as provider and protector of the hunter-gatherer societies. Pastoral civilization created some space for women when they became participants in the production process, but the role got curtailed as settled agriculture and creation of surplus led to warfare over control of resources. No matter who wins in a war, women always lose. The exchange society that took men to faraway lands for trade and profession put responsibilities upon womenfolk without authority commensurate with the role. Inequalities between the dominant and dominated gender increased after Industrial Revolution and the rise of robber barons who considered themselves creators of wealth. This may change as civilization moves towards centrality of information not only for production and distribution but also for battles that would have to be fought collectively to check ecological degradation. In future, which comes sooner than most people realise, creativity will have an edge over authority. Power would flow from the ability to imagine new solutions for age-old problems. Influence would become a function of ability to see the universe as one and the courage to go beyond boundaries of countries and cultures. These are the traits where women have always had an advantage. In their eagerness to become like men, they may lose some of these abilities even when they acquire new skills. That said, a secular society devoid of gods would probably create a more level field for most of Her (Mother Nature) children to live and celebrate life on equal terms. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32704 The young women described below are working in different fields and face various personal and work challenges. Nevertheless, they are independent, are setting examples in the society, and are braving their situations to stand on their own feet.[break] BIJU LAMICHANNE, 27, married, carpenter It is somewhat a different story for Biju who works at the factory for Bira Furniture at Patan Industrial Estate in Lalitpur. The furniture factory is located at the corner of the Industrial Estate and the place is dusty with pieces of wood and furniture lying all over the place. There are many women like Biju who are focused in their work. “We basically sand the wood with sandpaper, polish the furniture and do other sorts of furniture related works at the factory. We have to work all day in the dust,” explains she. Due to insufficiency and to support her family financially, Biju started working at the factory seven years ago. “Through my work, I’ve been able to sustain my family. But I wish I earned more so life would be easier,” says Biju. But being hopeful, she adds, “In future, I want to become supervisor at the factory so I can raise the standard of my lifestyle. Then I would never have to worry about the next meal and about educating my children.” GOMA PAHARI, 24, single, security guard She has to stand for nine hours straight everyday for seven days a week. Working as a security guard at the Nepal Investment Bank, Pulchowk, since the last nine months, her work is undeniably strenuous and it demands a lot of patience. Originally from Kavre, she has been living in the capital for the last four years. “I’m the only breadwinner of the family, so I’m working to sustain our lives. I started working early and have suffered a lot in life. I’ve done various low paying jobs before and have even worked as a laborer for constructing houses,” says Pahari. While balancing her challenging job and her responsibilities at home, Pahari is also obliged to shun her social life as she doesn’t get holidays at all. “Also, just because being a lady guard, I have often felt the discrimination as people sometimes behave in a demeaning way with me. There are instances when they pay no heed to what I have to say as a guard just because I’m a woman.” But bearing the daunting hardships, she still exhibits positive attitudes. “Though people think that it’s a man’s job to be a security guard, I think that I’m also a human being and so have the right to pursue any kind of job. As long as I’m healthy, I’ll never stay unemployed.” MIRA ROKA, 27, married, cleaner Mira has been working as a cleaner at Civil Mall since the last three months. She has been doing this job for a long time and she doesn’t see herself doing anything else rather than this. Before working at the mall, she had worked as a cleaner at a hospital and this has been her way of life ever since she can remember. She comments that a job of a cleaner is often ignored as people hardly notice the contributions from them. “There are people who think that doing such a low-paying job affects their self-esteem but I’m not hesitant to do this work. I feel good that I’m making some financial contributions to my family,” says Roka. She, however, feels that if she had studied, she could have ventured into other fields. So she finds no other option than doing what she does. “I work eight hours everyday. I mop floors and basically clean the whole place. The work requires a lot of energy,” says Roka. She, however, laments that it is difficult to run the house with the meager salary. “I wish that the amount we get paid was as equal as the efforts that we have to put in to our work.” BHAGWATI MAHAT, 24, single, housemaid\cooperative agent She started working at the age of 14 as a housemaid to financially support her family. Bhagwati Mahat, now, 24, living in New Road, is proud of the fact that though she never had any formal education, she is self-reliant as she is earning her own living in a burgeoning and competitive city like Kathmandu. It’s been a year since she’s also been working as a money collector for Kailash Cooperatives in Kupondole. Mahat started with a salary of Rs 1,000 per month and has also been supporting her family back in Rautahat. Mahat is of the opinion that a capable person can surpass any kind of obstacles in life. Balancing two jobs, nevertheless, is tough for her. “I’m living with the house owners and I help around the house with the usual chores the whole day. Then in the evening, from 3to 5pm, I visit different shops to collect money for the office.” The only thing Mahat says she regrets in life is about how she couldn’t complete her education due to family issues. “Our financial condition was poor, so I got to study only upto grade six. Though I was reluctant, I had to quit.” She raises the question that people are just being biased when she often hears them say that she is not doing a substantial job. “I think all work needs recognition. If we’re good enough, we can excel in any field. There’s no job good or bad. Unless we break that stereotype notion, our society isn’t going to change.” Mahat is one among many such young women in the capital who are independent and working hard to make ends meet. There are some who are doing it to utilize their free time, or for pocket money, and also to reduce the financial burden at home. NAINA CHETTRI, 24, single, waitress She is swift in catering to the needs of the customers who are at the café. From preparing coffee to serving the same to the customers, Naina Chettri, 24, does it all at the Organic Mantra Fair Chakra Caf fine in Basantpur as a waitress. Chettri has been working at the place since the last three years and she works eight hours a day. She always wears a smile and makes the customers feel at ease. You can really tell that she knows what she’s doing and loves it as well. “This café is a part of me as I’ve been working here for a long time. Since it’s a small café, it’s really easier to deal with everything. The owners are there but I basically have been managing the whole place and I really love what I do.” She puts in a lot of time at the café, which is why Chettri was unable to focus on her studies. “I couldn’t complete my Bachelor’s level due to work as it’s really difficult to manage work and studies at the same time. I’ve learnt that you can’t put your heart and mind into two things.” Her commitment and enthusiasm for work is what made Chettri choose work over studies. She also doesn’t regret for not completing her studies in time. As for now, Chettri doesn’t plan to do anything else except work as a waitress. “I’m just going with the flow. Let’s see where time takes me. But I really want to keep working as a waitress as I believe that this is my forte.” NISHI SHARMA, 19, single, salesgirl It’s hard not to notice the vivacious and confident Nishi Sharma, 19, who has been working as a salesgirl at a store in Civil Mall, Sundhara, since a year. This is her first job, which she started right after her +2 exams to stay occupied and earn some pocket money. Sharma’s original hometown is Patna, India, and has been living in the capital for 13 years. “I get all sorts of reactions and comments. At times, it even feels awkward when I think of how my friends would perceive about the job that I’m doing.” But she thinks that all of that is overshadowed by the satisfaction she gets by earning on her own. Sharma is also pursuing a diploma course in interior designing and is also a student of BBS first year at the same time. “It’s challenging to deal with different kinds of customers. At the same time, through such interaction, I also learn a lot which is helping me to be an extrovert.” She remembers the instances when she really wanted to buy a product from the store but could not afford it. “Sometimes it’s really tempting but on what I earn, I really can’t splurge and waste all my money.” A girl of strong conviction, Sharma believes that to reach a higher level, we all need to start from scratch. “The job of a salesgirl is often looked down as people think that it’s not a career which can be pursued. But I think educated people like us should set the example of how we should be able to work anywhere if it’s helping us to sustain our lives.” http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32631 Let’s set some facts straight before I get to the point. I’ve studied for most part in an all girls’ environment. I’m not particularly fond of soft toys nor do I get wobbly-kneed by pink hearts. I spent a good part of my adult life watching and re-watching all the six seasons of Sex and the City, yet I also read Voltaire, follow international politics and discuss it all with my girl gang. I can handle my drinks fine, but no, I don’t sip on cosmopolitans.[break] My interests include Ducati, Hummer, Roger Federer, Kobe Bryant and Virat Kohli, but I also enjoy baking, shopping and gossiping. I am on the sinking side of the 20s, independent, opinionated and still figuring out what I want to do with my life with no intention to “settle down;” maybe never, definitely not anytime soon.But I enjoy the dating scene mainly because if I don’t have a good time, I can afford to not offer to pay and get away with it! Well, this is the urban girl of the twenty first century for you. We refuse to be stereotyped and shoved in a corner as mannequins men like to savor their eyes on. We thrive on the attention but not let it get the better of us. It’s not about commitment but about companionship in a relationship, and we have no qualms throwing our hands up and walking out on you, just like you did us. It hurts still and it ain’t revenge, it’s just the sense of power that comes from being a self-sufficient lot who value their peace of mind. We are sensitive, empathetic, caring, and yes, still believe in unconditional love. But we also demand a space of our own to grow as individuals to achieve goals we’ve set for ourselves. I’m not trying to be the feminist male basher that I’m sure some of you have already made of me. Instead, the genesis of this post comes from the fact that even today I find quite a few guy friends and that too from the progressive world make inane jokes about clichéd female behavior like how presumably we can’t connect our TV to the DVD player or how we can’t buy cars, computers or anything considered masculine. At home, I fix the fuse, connect cables, mend wires and I’m the first person to be approached for any gadget issues. No, I didn’t study engineering. Another instance that I recently encountered with a dear guy friend was around the perception of women friendships. He’s a well educated, liberal man but I was appalled at his sheer lack of ignorance to the kind of bonds women are capable of sharing. We were discussing a post by former Fulbright Scholar and graduate of Harvard University, Emily Rapp on Transformation and Transcendence: The Power of Female Friendship. The essence of the post was this (I quote from the text): “Here’s the truth: friendships between women are often the deepest and most profound love stories, but they are often discussed as if they are ancillary, “bonus” relationships to the truly important ones. Women’s friendships outlast jobs, parents, husbands, boyfriends, lovers, and sometimes children.” He rather overbearingly dismissed the proposition and elaborated on how women bitching about their close friends were the stuff of legend. I was disappointed in hearing that it came from him because he’s been around long enough to know that in every ‘weird’ experience (read: unhappy times, failures, fights, boyfriend issues) I’ve found myself (rest assured that there have been aplenty), it is from these women that I draw all my strength. The closest and most meaningful relationships in my life are with women. Yes, there are other friendships with women that have made me want to jump off a cliff but these oversimplified and generalized arguments where one woman you meet at the bar is the same as the one that sits next to you in class is the bane of every existence. Having said that, I’m not denying that there are women who like to sit pretty and be taken care of. Even Marilyn Monroe, who is my hero for drawing the courage to unabashedly be the quintessential sex symbol, famously said, “I don’t mind living in a man’s world, as long as I can to be a woman in it.” The inherent nature to typecast, however, is problematic. It’s been argued time and again that women are not a homogenous group. There is and should be scope for the ‘individual’ sans their gender identity, and that is my sheer motivation to write this post. To be able to uphold your personality and not succumb to convention is what will make life worthwhile. The end goal is to be happy in whatever we do wherever we are. If being an old maid but a global trotter experiencing different cultures, meeting new people and living life on the edge is what I want as a woman while a steady job, a future plan and a family to come back to is what rocks your boat, so be it! The only common denominator between us is being a woman. We look through life with different lenses, and we wish to be respected for our contrasts. The writer sometimes want to give it all up and be a nomad. Sometimes, she wants to pursue an MBA but most times, she’s just daydreaming about the travels, the love, the laughter and the dreams which we’re all after. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32629 He’s coming He’s coming He’s coming He’s coming…[break] “He’s coming to marry and look after you ooh ooh” – she sings, her eyes rolled up and her voice a sheer mockery. It’s yet another Friday night in Kathmandu. At one end of the city in an overcrowded space, she sings to a crowd dancing in trance to the ska-reggae-punk beats of her electrifying band Naya Faya. Amid the dancing frenzy of mostly male, mostly expat crowd, the barely five feet tall brown woman sings, warbles, growls, screeches – her words mocking the society where, even now, little girls are married off at the age of 13 or younger. “Girl, don’t expect to ever come home,” she shouts out the line continuously, boiling up against the social order for girls who once married are ostracized from their own homes. Despite the not too good sound system, you can still hear her clearly and cannot help but feel the sting of the lyrics that stick with you, not because they’re catchy but because they’re harsh and true, “ ..you know what the in-laws have to say? They say, Bring me a son. Bring me a son. Bring me a son. Kill the other one!” As a moss pit builds up through the show and the music takes over, the few girls dancing in the crowd slide off towards the sideline. But some refuse to step out. Call it madness, call it courage, a feminist would’ve been proud of the scene and especially proud of the woman at the center of it all singing her soul out. On stage, singer/songwriter/guitarist Sareena Rai is a punk singing songs of revolutions and doing what she loves. Off stage, living in the foothills of Budanilkantha, she is a soft spoken mom, working at home as well as in her community and doing what she loves. “Well, it’s been 15 years or more,You may as well call me a ‘rock n roll ho’,I’ve been surrounded by a few good men,Now I gotta girl rockin harder than them!La! La! La!” -15 years, Tankgirl Rai says she learnt to play guitar watching her brothers play. In 2010, she teamed up with drummer Oliver Bertin, now her partner, to form the anarcho punk band Raiko Ris that set the foundation of her journey into music. The activist duo has also been making music with other musicians under the band names of Tank Girl, an anarcha-feminist band, and the latest being Naya Faya, injecting punk into ska-reggae beats. Though it’s been more than a decade now, Sareena and her band members have chosen to remain low key. They have supported and drawn inspiration from international DIY punk scene, kept their music alive without corporate support and avoided mainstream media, which gives many music lovers and activists a sense of great joy in having discovered their music either by chance or headlong inquisitiveness. “I didn’t really agree for an interview,” says Rai with a teasing smile as she welcomes her visitor into her two-storied village-style mud-and-bamboo house. An open kitchen, and two adjoining rooms, there’s a wide space with a green carpet laid down where she plays with her one-year-old. There’s barely any furniture in the house besides the racks that display some of the feminist/queer/gay alternative literature, magazines, books, pamphlets on anarchism, d.i.y sustainable living, socio-politico music magazines from the infoshop they used to run in Lazimpat (which they have now set up in their home). She shares that she and Oliver built the house with the help of the villagers, specially their friend Sukman to whom, Rai ko Ris have dedicated a song, “Sukman Hanuman” Rai, who’s had her share of school and university education, feels that though academic education opens the doors to many perspectives and understanding, most of it is sometimes limited to “just in the head.” Hence she admires people like Sukman who use “their own hands to build things, lay down the foundations and grow things” despite being uneducated. Having lived with community people, mostly from Dalit families, for seven years now, their family is now loved and respected by the people around. As most men and women go out to work in the fields, many of the neighboring kids often wind up playing in their backyard. “They’re either playing with our kids or with us. We’re like kids ourselves. Free!” she says, chuckling as she starts preparing lunch. But there are also many cases of domestic violence against women and children, abuse, discrimination and malpractices prevalent in the village which Rai not only writes and sings about but has stepped up against it in real life as well. “I’m a strong believer that change can start from where you are,” she says, “So, when you see anything wrong happening, you step up, voice it out, make it stop and make sure it doesn’t happen again with your constant presence. That’s how it happens in a community.” A non-believer in the police system, she says things have to be solved within the community. However, for women, it is still a hard world and Rai believes in and promotes self-defense for women. Even for an outspoken woman like Rai, there have been times sexual harassment has made her feel helpless. “During a jatra, I was just having fun dancing with the crowd when one man just grabbed my breast and I was so infuriated I was blindly punching him in my rage. But when I opened my eyes, I realized I was punching him on the shoulder and arms which felt like nothing to him,” she laughs it off as she remembers how Ani Choying Dolma, who was with her at the time, had pulled her away from the scene. But she is very serious about having girls learn self-defense for which the infoshop even publishes their own zine Self defense with instruction and illustrations “to make lives safer for girls and women on a daily basis.” At her home, Rai also has an instructor come over to give self-defense class every Saturday to some girls from the village. “We’re trying to get women to join, too. I mean, you know, they’re the ones always getting beaten up. I hope the interest grows.” Besides, it’s also been a year that three bands with a total of 10 girls from the village have been learning to play guitar and drums from Rai and Bertin. “We had a punk concert in the village last year with us, the girls and our visiting friends from Germany. It was great,” says Rai, grinning. Initially, women in the village didn’t like girls hanging out with Rai, she tells us. It was as if she were a bad influence, keeping them away from important chores like “helping around the house and taking care of her little siblings.” “But some women in the village don’t want their daughters to have the same life as them,” she says. “So they see me and think ’Ah she looks happy.’ They see my husband washing clothes, working together with me and think ‘See, it’s possible’ and then send their daughters to me.” They’ll even have three women (in their late thirties or forties) from the village joining in to learn how to play guitar and drums starting next week. “There were seven of them who approached us. One of them was our neighbor who we see working in the fields and comes over and cries about her alcoholic husband, keeping another woman and wishing for him to bring her home so they can live peacefully together,” she says, raising her eyebrows and hands together. “That’s how it’s here, it’s crazy.” Taking the classes for free, living off from what they earn through their gigs, working on their music, taking care of their children, juggling through the electricity schedule, Rai says it gets crushing sometimes. “You can only do so much for free, you know, when you’re not really earning yourself,” she says, smiling and making funny sorry faces as she checks time on her black and white Nokia phone. But it pays off for them as they help the community people out with something, and they teach you how to sow spinach and help with other things. “But we’re involved and do things in the community because we love to do it or because some things bug us. We’re not out to change the world, though,” says Rai. Even with the band, when people come out to them saying they need more exposure, they often turn offers down. “It doesn’t make sense to us or we’re not made for it,” Rai says and Bertin intervenes in a tone typical of Nepali villages, “Just because we’re a little different, they call us ghamandi (proud). Testo haina ni (But it’s not like that).” Their songs openly oppose corporate culture and false advertisements, and just in her their latest gig, the audience stomped down on Wai Wai packet which she threw on the floor, singing “Why why why wai wai?” For Rai, who always wrote her own lyrics and co-writes all the band songs as well, it is an important means of activism. Be it the highly political lyrics of Rai ko Ris telling stories of people during people’s war, to situation of Bhutanese refugees and anarcha-feminist lyrics of Tank girl to the ‘rebelutionary’ lyrics of Naya Faya or other alter ego of the band, their songs become the anti-capitalist, pro-feminist, anti-racist and revolutionary anthems. It also becomes her form of self-expression as you notice some bits and pieces of her life and frustration poured out. “Nepali girl, Nepali girl, why you hanging with that white guy?Do you suck his balls, does he give you money?Are you his doll, his little brown honey?They criticize and they criticizeNepali girl, you should be ostracized!You married a guy, a papa of twoWhite guy - brown chick, shoo shoo shoo!- Nepali girl, Tank girl Steering things differently however doesn’t always land her in a comfortable position. Rai says she often gets into a lot of disagreement and arguments. And with the way she dresses, does tattoos, defies social norms, voicing out opinion and intervening with things going wrong around her gets her lot of criticism and grudges. “I probably one day will get burnt as bokshi (witch),” she says jokingly and once again laughs it off. All these years, but she still chooses to be the anarcha-feminist punk singing out her songs and letting the society see its true face in her lyrics and smashing it with her music. Leave home at 17, leave home at 21Society’s telling me just how a girl should beGood-looking, sexy, with a master’s degreeSociety’s telling me I cannot be Me Samaaj ko keti, samaaj ko kaidi(Society’s girl, society’s prisoner)Let’s smash it! - Samaaj ko keti, Samaaj ko kaidi, Rai ko Ris http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32628 That was what we were told. So let’s go back to the old school in a new style (thank you, technology!) and ask our trusted Professor Wiki what exactly feminism entails. She tells me, “Feminism is a collection of movements aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women. In addition, feminism seeks to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment.”[break] But, on another note, nowhere in this definition or the numerous books I’ve read on feminism have I come up with a meaning that says, “Feminism is a collection of movements directed against men for feminists hate men.” Yes, essentially, the fight of feminism revolves around equality issues, and yes, feminists feel strongly that women haven’t had much say in history and there is a full intention to change that belief system. However, to conclude that being a feminist equals to hating men is as bizarre an idea as hating chocolates because it correlates with weight gain. Of course, “feminism,” very broadly speaking, is merely a school of thought; and how we define feminism differs according to context. But I personally feel that every woman, at the heart of it, is a feminist in her own right. She’s a feminist for she understands what it means to see other woman suffer; she’s a feminist for she seeks opportunities to prove her competence; she’s a feminist for she believes in uniting for womanhood. So, no, we don’t have to go on a “boo men” kind of protest to be feminists. It has more to do with a matter of the heart that shows itself when someone says, “She’s a girl. How will she do it?!” It has more to do with showing you that we, like you, at least have the capacity to attempt our hands at something, regardless of the results; that we start off on the same level as you, even though you may end up doing a better job eventually (which will be taken in good spirits by us, do be assured of that!) It has more to do with being provided equal opportunities. Now that sounds pretty hardcore. It also sounds like a perfect little speech to fend off insecure men, with all due respect to all the men out there. But this is something that my girlfriends and I often discuss. All of us are in healthy relationships, by the way, despite having the feminism thing going for us. But not all of us go out on rallies on March 8, and we never, till date, have done anything significant with which we can call ourselves “feminists.” But we all feel a certain affiliation to feminism in general, like any woman would surely do. So we call ourselves feminists. But surprisingly, this seems to be a notion that can get most men quite queasy (and if you aren’t one of them, then good for you and good for us; but ask around, I’m sure you know someone who knows someone who prefers being away from “feminists.”) That’s why while we were in our intense debate on the topic, a random – let me point out again that a strange man that none of us knew – walked up to us and decided to entertain us with his dubious debate. “Feminists, ahh…they are just ludicrous single women. Their bunch just needs boyfriends.” Now, as a word of advice, if you ever dare be so inane as to walk up to a group of girls and ridicule feminism in front of them, it might not be one of your best nights. Even before he had progressed on to his logic, all sorts of attacks were being thrown at him. The what-s and whys and wherefores were flying in from all directions. The man was all smiles for he got the attention he coveted. Smart of him, I must admit. And then he proposed that feminists are basically very masculine beings in their approach. They are vocal, argumentative, fierce (I was thinking more along the lines of women giving men a complex, but I wanted to hear his theory) and that their arguments are invalid in this egalitarian world we live in today. Okay, we’re argumentative and fierce when it comes to things we’re emotionally attached to. But in no way do we compromise on our fashion elements while doing it. Hell, we argue on heels and look hot doing it! Also, I don’t know what world he’s living in, but in the world that I’m in, we continuously hear stories of women’s abuses. 21st century or not, we are still very savage in our ways sometimes. So we fight. We fight for one of us; we fight for all of us. We had heard what this misguided man had to say, but we no longer entertained him. If people were really thinking like this narrow-minded man, then somebody needs to give him a wakeup call. And just so his despairing spirit didn’t affect us, we called for another round of drinks, raised our martinis high in the air and celebrated and embraced womanhood. Three cheers to being women and another three cheers to feminism! Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32703 “Sriman huda ra nahuda dherai pharak pardo raicha- pariwar ra samaj ko herai ma.” (Having and not having your husband makes a huge difference in how you are perceived in society.) “Ujyalo luga lagayo bhane hera hera poi khane randi ayo bhanchan.” (If I wear bright clothes, they say here comes the whore who killed her husband.)[break] “Gaun ghar ra sahar bhannu bekar raicha. Hune khane pariwar ma ta jhanai garo hudo raicha.” (Its useless to think things are better in the city than the village. Things are even more difficult in well off families.) “Kaam garera khana pani garo. Ali dhilo ghar ayo bhane ta kura kaha bata kaha pugcha- arko sanga hidyo bhanchan.” [Its difficult to even earn a living and survive. People start talking if you come home late. Accuse you of seeing other men.] “Dui char sabda sahera timro ke bigrincha? Sahanu nai ramro ho- chori ko jaat le sahanu parcha bhanchan.” [They say- no harm tolerating a few harsh words. Women folk must learn to tolerate such things. ] “Maiti basna gayo bhane sarai dar hudo raicha- kasle ke po bhanne ho. Ama bau lai naramro bhaneko sunnu bhanda baru je jasto ho afai dukha garera basnu jati ho.” [I am too scared to go live with my parents. People will talk. I’d rather struggle and live on my own than listen to people speak ill of my parents.] “Kei bhanyo bhane chori janne bhako ramro hudaina- pothi pani bascha? Chup lagera bas bhanchan.” [If I speak up, they tell me to shut up. Daughters should not speak they say. After all, hens don’t crow.] “Yesto (kurta suruwal) lagayera hidyo bhane ta dankini bhanchan.” [They call me names if I don’t wear a sari-if I wear a kurta suruwal] “Poi ko thau ma ma mareko bhaye mero chora chori haru alapatra hunthe- sauta lyauthe.” [If I had died in my husband’s place, my children would have been helpless. He would have gotten a second wife.] These are the voices of many women who have lost their husbands. They choose to identify as ekal mahila (single women), instead of submitting to the stigma attached to being a ‘widow’. Some of them have lost their husbands to natural causes, others to politics. Some are separated or divorced and others have had husbands gone missing. Often shunned by family and society, these women face desperate struggles. But brave and defiant; they have come forward here to share their stories of resilience. Rekha Subedi, 30, Dhangadi I could not go to school when I was young. My parents were very poor. I got married at 14. He had already lost both his parents. He worked at a brick kiln. We were working like dogs to make a living, raise our sons. But they came to the house one day, and dragged him off. They killed him. There was another man in the village named Ram Prasad Subedi. Later the villagers told me that they were actually after the other guy, and mistook my husband for him. I could not live in the village any longer. I was beginning to go crazy. I came to Kathmandu, willing to wash dishes to earn a living. Last year I went home for Dasain and saw one of the men who took my husband. He has a big shop on the main road these days. Now I don’t like going back to my village for festivals. I will live here in the city now. My elder son has a scholarship and lives in Pokhara. The younger one is with me. I wish I could have both my children with me, but I can’t feed them both so for now this is how it shall have to be. Rita Bista, 25, Macche Gaon “I was doing my Bachelors in Business studies at Padma Kanya Campus when I got married. I could not continue after I had the baby. My mother in law did not like me from the very beginning. She would treat me badly and say nasty things about my parents. It was a dowry issue I think- she felt I did not bring enough with me. After a while, my husband stopped talking to me; he starting hitting me for no reason. Eventually, things got so bad, I left. I hear he has remarried. I have been living with my parents for several years, but now things are getting difficult. The neighbors talk. I know I will have to leave soon. I will go and find work.” Mandira Maharjan, 44, Kirtipur Its been more than 15 years since my husband left. He used to call once in a while at the beginning. He told me I should send the children to school. But he never told me where he was, why he left. The early days were really bad- I used to get sick with worry. My sister took me in for a while. I did not have the courage to live on my own. My in-laws have been asking me to sign some papers. I can’t read, but I imagine they are trying to make me give up the property I am entitled to. They know the ward secretary and he tried to threaten me. I still have not signed. Why should I? Lila Rai, 27, Panauti I felt completely alone when he died. Like I had no one left to call my own in this world. His family began to make life miserable. People started talking. My father called me back home, and told me he would build me a house. But they say a married daughter should not return to her parents. My father-in-law always challenged me- he wanted to see me shrivel up and die. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me go back to my parents. I told myself I would rather beg to survive. Things got very very difficult- I got very sick. And I had no food to feed my child. Now, I am learning how to sew. I need to find some way to earn a living. I will not starve for ever. Srijana Shrestha, 35, Kirtipur “My husband was the Nepali Congress Kirtipur Jilla Sawapati. One evening, a group of men came into our living room and shot him dead. I was in the back room with our two children; when I rushed to see what had happened, the room was full of smoke and the men had fled, firing more shots so I could not chase them. It was a political act, I know it. It took me two years to collect the compensation that was promised to conflict affected families. Meanwhile, I really struggled. The scholarships that were promised to my children took four years to be processed. I was sent back and forth between the Peace and Reconstruction Ministry, the CDO and the Rahat commission- they blamed the delays on errors in data collection, misplaced files, changed policies every time a new official or political party came to power, so on and so forth. Compared to many cases, mine was a high profile one- Girija babu visited me at my home- yet it has been almost impossible to communicate with authorities. I cannot imagine what has happened to other women who have been les aggressive.” http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32627 As the warm winter sun blankets Kathmandu, people are making the most of it and soaking up its rays. But not Devaki Poudel, 39, who lives across the river from Nepal’s capital in the neighboring district of Lalitpur. Inside an old, three-story house, Poudel, who requested her first name be changed for safety reasons, has been busy all morning. At 11 a.m., she has finished sending her children to school and husband to work and has completed her household chores for the morning. She sits down with a sigh.[break] “Now, the entire day is mine,” she says. “I hope it doesn’t get dark.” Poudel comes from Syangja, a district west of Kathmandu. She is slender and has long, black hair. She wears red bangles and vermillion – a red powder – on her head, which are Hindu symbols of marriage. She dons a red sweater over her kurta surwal, a traditional dress. Poudel’s nerves are visible. She has a sweet voice, but it seems it’s been suppressed.“My husband doesn’t like me talking and socializing with others,” she says. “If he finds out that I’m talking to someone …” She stops before completing her sentence.Poudel and her family have been living in a rented apartment in Lalitpur for 15 years. Her husband works as a security guard at a private company. On the surface, they look like a happy family. But Poudel says that their home is far from harmonious. Poudel got married when she was 15. Her parents didn’t allow her to go to school because they believed she would become a prostitute if she gained an education. So they instead married her to 25-year-old Ramesh Poudel, whose first name has been changed to protect his identity, from a neighboring village. She says that her friends teased her for having a tall and handsome husband. “But if only looks were everything,” she says. Poudel says she had been used to living an independent life, but her marriage destroyed this freedom. “From the second day of marriage, my life has been like hell,” Poudel says. She says her husband began to fondle her private parts in ways that hurt her. He also forcefully had sexual intercourse with her. Marred by bruises and her husband’s teeth marks, her skin bore testament to the nightly scuffles. The abuse was so severe that it hurt her genitals, but she says she kept quiet about it. “Sometimes, I use[d] to have fever because I couldn’t bear it,” she says. “But I couldn’t tell anyone.” A few days after her wedding, Poudel says she went to her parents’ house and told her mother that she didn’t want to return to her husband’s home. But her mother told her that this would be wrong because women had to stay with their husbands, no matter how hard it was. And life had quickly become hard for Poudel. Following a tiring day of work at the farm and in the house, she says she wanted to enjoy a peaceful night. But despite her desire to rest, her husband forced her to have sex with him. When Poudel tried to shout in pain, he closed her mouth. When she refused to have sex with him, he kicked and hit her.“There was no option than to be living as a walking dead,” she says. Even when she suffered pain during menstruation, he had anal sex with her. Three years after her marriage, she got pregnant with her first child. Even during pregnancy, she says he forced her to have sex with him. “Even before a day earlier that the child was born, he didn’t spare me,” she says, with surprise spreading across her face. “How was I bearing that?” She says that this is the first time she has told anyone about the abuse, which she has been enduring for nearly 25 years. She kept quiet to avoid embarrassing the family, as it is taboo to talk about sex in Nepali culture. After having three kids and moving to Kathmandu, she says she thought her husband might show some restraint. But instead, the situation has intensified. He began bringing home X-rated movies and forcing her to imitate the sexual acts performed in the videos with him. When she disagrees, he drags her down the stairs as punishment. Poudel says that her neighbors and landlord have heard her crying, but she usually covers it up as a domestic dispute. Even when her sisters or relatives come to visit, they never discuss sex. “How do I discuss bedroom matters with others?” she asks. “And at the end of the day, it’s me who has to suffer.” Many wives in Nepal suffer from marital rape on a routine basis, which advocates against it cite as a consequence of the male-dominated culture here. The Nepali government amended the law against rape to include marital rape six years ago. Still, many women say they have never heard of the term “marital rape” or of the law against it because it is taboo to talk about sex. But even when they become aware, uneducated and educated women alike decline to report their husbands because of this taboo, deeply ingrained notions of respect and economic factors. Some report the abuse instead as domestic violence, but police send most couples home after counseling at the police station and forward few cases to court. Since the issue of marital rape is not discussed openly in Nepal, reliable statistics are unavailable. There are currently about 110 men in Bhadra Prison in Kathmandu for rape, including nearly 40 with life sentences, according to data from the Central Prison. But none is there for marital rape. Advocates against marital rape attribute it to poverty, illiteracy, backwardness and a male-dominated society. Suchitra Mainali, a sociology professor at Padma Kanya Multiple College, the first women’s college in Nepal, says that Nepal is a male-dominated society, where women have often been suppressed. “In every household, women have been bearing the brutality of marital rape,” Mainali says. “It seems like women have been used to bearing with such pain.” Like Poudel, Phoolmaya Limbu, whose first name has been changed to protect her safety, says she has also long suffered from marital rape. Limbu, 49, is from Jhapa, a district in eastern Nepal. Limbu got married 31 years ago at age 18. Although it was an arranged marriage, she says life was comfortable with her husband, who was 24. Esterlina on Silver But soon after her marriage, she started having children every year. She gave birth to seven children. Between parental duties and household chores, Limbu says it was difficult for her to satisfy her husband’s persistent sexual needs. “Even while I was pregnant, he didn’t give me a moment of relief,” she says. While she was giving birth to her last child 15 years ago, Limbu suffered a uterine prolapse, when the uterus slips down from its normal position, a common problem among Nepali women in rural areas. As she was in pain, Limbu says she requested her husband time and again to refrain from physical contact until she recovered.“But he threatened to bring a second wife, and he just forced me to have sex,” she says. Limbu says that when her uterus was coming out, it was extremely difficult and painful to have intercourse. There were times when she had to push her uterus inside her body with her hands. “I didn’t tell this to anyone, and I had no idea that I had to go to a doctor for this,” she says. It was only after advice from a neighbor five years later that she visited the maternity hospital in Kathmandu for a checkup. There, she saw many other women with uterine prolapses, which she says consoled her. The doctors put a ring in her body to hold her uterus in position, and Limbu says she felt some relief. But it didn’t solve the problem, so her children took her back to the hospital, where doctors removed her uterus. Despite these health problems, she says her husband didn’t refrain from forcing her to have intercourse. To deal with the pain, she started to drink alcohol. She says she usually got tipsy and sometimes even drunk to tolerate the forced sex. “It seems that to be born as a woman is a waste,” she says. Limbu says that the abuse continues today. Nepali law defines rape as sex without consent or when someone is threatened into giving consent. It classifies rape as an offense against the state and a crime of unnatural stature. But the inclusion of marital rape in this law is fairly recent. Susha Gautam of the Forum for Women, Law and Development says that the human rights organization played a major role in persuading the government to recognize and amend the law on rape to include marital rape, which it did in 2006. But even with the law amended to include marital rape, Gautam says that it’s difficult and time-consuming for women to pursue cases. Gautam says that cases concerning adults take longer than cases involving minors, and many times guilty husbands receive bail and the couples have to live under the same roof during the judicial process. “This might lead to more violence,” she says. Gautam says that jail time if found guilty also only ranges from three to six months, at which point the victim will be in danger again. Moreover, Gautam says that many women have never even heard the term “marital rape,” let alone about the law against it. Gautam says that it’s because women don’t discuss these issues that no one knows about them. Both Poudel and Limbu say they didn’t know that marital rape was illegal in Nepal. A professor at a public college, who declined to be named, says that women from the city with formal education may be even less inclined to speak about marital rape than uneducated women. “Maybe women who are illiterate might speak,” she says. “For us, there are many social constraints.” Even when women are aware of what marital rape is and the law against it, many still don’t report it because of a loyalty to their husbands that is deeply ingrained in Nepali culture. Mainali says that there is a traditional mindset that wives have to serve their husbands day and night. Because of the social stigma attached to defying or leaving one’s husband, women choose to stay with their husbands despite the problems they face. “Our [societal] construction is such that men are the lords and women, their slaves,” Mainali says.Other women cite economic reasons for not reporting their husbands. Sharmila Dhungel, whose first name has been changed to protect her safety, is from Illam, a district in eastern Nepal. She also endured marital rape for many years, but unlike Poudel and Limbu, she confided in a women’s rights activist. But she says that when the activist told her that her husband could go to jail, she refrained from reporting him. She says her family couldn’t afford for him to go to jail because he was its sole provider. So instead of reporting him, she asked her husband to work abroad under the pretense of earning more money. “I’m OK for now,” she says. “But when he comes back, it’s going to be the same problem.” Gautam says that women ages 20 to 60 often visit her office to report rape. But she says that although the women want to report the incidents, they aren’t able to be fully open about the abuse they endured. “Some cases are so severe that I feel there’s no worth of humanity,” she says.Rupa Shrestha, database manager at the Women’s Rehabilitation Center, a nongovernmental organization, also says that although women come in with complaints, they are too scared to file a formal report against their husbands because of personal and social reasons. She says cases have been scarce nationally. “There have only been two cases in the court since the law has been established,” Shrestha says. Women say people would label them as characterless if they filed marital rape reports against their husbands because it is taboo to talk about bedroom matters, Gautam says. Therefore, victims of marital rape are more comfortable with filing cases under the Domestic Violence Act 2009. The act covers physical, mental, sexual and financial torture, and punishments include fines ranging from 3,000 to 25,000 rupees ($35 to $300) and/or six months in prison, she says. Gautam says domestic violence reports have been rising likely because of an increased awareness among women of their rights rather than an increase in domestic violence. Domestic violence reports jumped substantially last year in Nepal, according to data from Nepal Police’s Women and Children’s Cell. There were 968 reports in 2009 and 983 in 2010, yet already 1,355 reports by the end of April 2011. In the Kathmandu Valley, Nepal Police has a separate women’s division to handle gender-based violence. When women report domestic violence, it usually has to do with some sort of sexual violence and marital rape, says Lal Kumari Khadka of the women’s prison in Lalitpur. Police listen to the cases in order to decide whether to advance them to the justice system. Khadka says rape cases are hard to listen to. For example, some women have shared instances of their husbands shoving their fists into their vaginas, she says. But most of the cases are discussed and resolved with both parties, who are sent home together after some counseling from police at the station, Khadka says. Police send few cases to court. Deepa Acharya, legal adviser from the National Women’s Council, says that the government is working to raise awareness through special ministries and councils created to address women’s issues. She says the media is also helping to make more women aware of marital rape and the laws and resources available to assist them. “Work is in progress,” Acharya says. “The government is also working toward it. It takes time for people to be aware.” But even victims who are aware that marital rape is illegal still refuse to report it. Limbu says she is not willing to report her husband. Poudel says her life has been a “living hell,” but she still thinks highly of her husband. “Whatever it is, he is my married husband,” she says. “My identity is associated with him. But in my next life, I don’t want to be born as a daughter. I want to be born as a man.” (Global Press Institute) http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32626 Whenever there are talks about women’s rights and equality, it’s the working women who come forward to discuss the issues. The participation of housewives are insignificant, though they cover a large portion of the population of the modern women. The views and opinions of this group are rarely heard. The stay-at-home mothers and wives spend their energy and skills to nourish their children and serve their family. These women dedicate themselves to their husbands and children’s future, sacrificing their own prospects for any working career. [break] The Week met with a group of housewives – Kajal Thapa, 25; Sushma Chhetri, 36; Sarita Karmacharya, 33; Sapana Maharjan, 33; Ishwori Gupta, 50; and Chhaya Mali, 49, to learn about their perspectives on different issues. These modern women transcended the typical image of a housewife. Immediately and easily striking conversation with one another, the women looked confident and ready for discussion. Even before the formal discussion had started, the casual talks among them indicated that they were well-informed, very up-to-date with the current events and well connected. All of them had Facebook accounts which they were eagerly exchanging with each other. They exhibited their individual stances during the discussion and did not shy away from any questions or disagreeing with one another’s views. Here are some excerpts from the discussion. How important is it to have a person solely dedicated to household? Kajal Thapa To have a person in the house all the time obviously has a certain effect on the environment of the house. The other members of the family will not have to rush or worry about the guests coming to the house or any phone calls. Sushma Chhetri I think that looking after a house is like attending to a family member. The house also requires equal attention from us as much as a person. So, if a person dedicates her full time for home, then the environment will obviously be relaxed in the family. Sarita Karmacharya I think that when you have decided to be a housewife, to dedicate a significant amount of time to the house comes as a part of responsibility. Also, when I handle household business, other family members can be free for their works. Sapana Maharjan I stayed home for 13 years before I started going out for social activities. So according to my experience, one does not have to be inside home all the time to manage the household chores. In my case, my in-laws usually are home, so it is not hard for me to leave home in the afternoon and finish my chores at a certain time. Even then, it is still difficult for me to manage time for things outside the house for two reasons. One, because I stayed home all these years, I have difficulty following a routine, and second, because my in-laws still want me to stay home. Ishwori Gupta I have spent 27 years of my life staying home. I had started a small business while I was still a student. But I had to close it down after marriage due to family pressures. Nowadays, I usually stay home and even if I need to go out, I need to inform my mother-in-law beforehand. But a good thing about staying home is that there is no rush to finish work within a certain time limit. Chhaya Mali Apart from many other benefits, I think to have a person solely dedicated to home minimizes the problem of theft during daytime. What are your working hours? How much time do you give to daily household chores? Gupta I don’t like getting up early. I used to wake up at 7 am. The time even used to stretch to 8 am during holidays. But since I have diabetes, I get up at 5 am and go for yoga classes till 7:30. Then after half an hour of puja, I start the kitchen chores for the morning. It takes one and half hours before the morning chores are done and then I relax for some two to three hours. Then I get busy again after three in the afternoon. That’s when kids are back from the school. We have evening meals very late, so I will have enough leisure time for other small works before I start cooking the evening meal, at around 8 pm. By 9:30 pm, all the chores are finished. Chhetri My day starts at around 6:30- 6:45 am. Breakfast, lunchbox and getting the kids ready for school occupy my morning. Only after my husband sets off to the office, I have time to freshen up and do daily puja. Since there is problem of water in our locality, my attention shifts towards water management. I usually get out of the house in the afternoon. After the kids are back from school, lunch for kids and their homework make me busy. After a while, I start preparing the evening meal and at around 8:30 pm, the daily chores finish. Karmacharya I serve two glasses of water each to my two kids and husband as soon as the morning starts in my home. Since my kids are small, I need to help them get ready for school. The morning meal for the other family members will also be getting ready side-by-side. After I serve food to my in-laws and my husband, I finish up the morning chores. Afternoons are leisure for me until the kids are back. They put me on my toes as I prepare lunch and make them eat. Soon, it’s time to prepare dinner. Maharjan I have to get up at 5am because I need to prepare breakfast for the family members by 6 am. On days when there are clothes for washing, I usually get up at 4 am and finish it by 10am. I help my husband in his handicraft business. So I get busy with handicraft works for two hours after the morning chores finish. Since the entire handicraft works are carried out in our home, we have a dozen workers everyday. So after assisting them, I prepare lunch for them before joining them again for another two hours. By the time, kids will be home and preparing lunch for them and assisting in their homework makes me busy. And again , it is time to prepare supper. Mali I am comparatively free now since my kids are all grown up and both are abroad. It’s just me and my husband at home, so I get up at seven and go for a morning walk with him. There isn’t much work in the afternoons, either, so I mostly go out. My parents are very old now, so I usually go to visit them. But when my kids were small, I used to wake up early and do all the morning chores of preparing meals, lunchboxes for kids, get them ready for school. I used to be busy for almost all day. Thapa I think I have more freedom in case of working hours. I get up late and drink tea that is ready for me. I don’t have to be directly involved in kitchen chores in the morning. I usually spend my leisure time sunbathing or washing clothes. Usually, there will be people coming to visit my in-laws in the afternoon. I spend my afternoon serving them tea and engaging in casual talks. Otherwise, I watch TV or surf the net. And at around 4 pm, dinner preparation starts. We eat rotis in the evenings, so it takes comparatively more time. What keeps you busy except the household chores? Has being a housewife given you time to carry out your hobbies? Thapa I usually surf the net. I don’t miss to check my Facebook and use Youtube a single day. I connect with my friends and relatives in Facebook, and it easily kills my time. And I get beauty tips and recipes via Youtube. Chhetri I am very interested in learning grooming techniques , so I usually read women’s and beauty magazines. I had even joined cooking classes to utilize the free time in the afternoon. Gupta I usually get engaged with other tidbits of the household chores in my free time, like making lighting threads from cotton and sewing cushion covers. I was also into knitting. I used to be very observant about new styles and knit it immediately for my husband and kids. Mali My main hobby is sewing. So I spend my time sewing small frocks for kids, clothes for myself. I follow the latest trends and get on my sewing machine. We’re still living in a patriarchal society. How do you feel about this? Are there any things you would like to change and what would they be? Karmacharya In our society, a daughter-in-law is expected to please her in-laws. After coming to a new home and new family, I feel that it is my responsibility to take care of the elders of the house. Even a husband wishes that his wife would respect his parents. But yes, the way society has divided tasks as to be women’s or men’s is a big discrimination. Husband and wife are the two pillars of a house, so they should be treated equally. It is not that my husband tends to dominate me, but the way we are brought up, men are positioned one step higher than women. But in my case, I voice my discomforts and ask him to help me. Mali Our culture and religion enforce patriarchal rules in our family and society. Patriarchal thoughts are so closely knitted with our belief that discrimination is projected as a normal thing. In many instances of our culture, females are placed as weaker. Maharjan I think it’s not only the environment or the culture we are brought up in determines the discrimination against women but it is also a matter of attitude. My home is very strict in matters of culture and tradition; I am not even allowed to mix my clothes with those of the male members of the family while washing them. But my husband thinks otherwise. Though he was brought up in the same environment, his views are liberal and comes forward to help me. The general belief in my house still remains that a daughter-in-law serves the family members. But whenever I fall sick, even my father-in-law handles the kitchen chores and my husband serves me while I am still in bed. Gupta Since I married a man who was my friend in college, I never stepped back to ask for help from him. Due to the odd hours of load shedding, sometimes I need to iron my kid’s and my husband’s clothes late at night. But when I do not feel like doing it, I ask him to share the work. Also, he has always been a helpful husband. If I get sick, or sometimes just don’t get up early, he goes to the kitchen and serves tea and prepares for the morning meal. What is your take on the preference to son still prevalent in our culture and society? Chhetri My first baby was a son, so now I want a daughter as well. Let’s say I have the freedom to wish for a daughter since my first child was a son. If it hadn’t been a son, then I might have had to face pressure from the family and relatives. But I think that daughters take care of their parents more than sons, a daughter is on my mind right now. Karmacharya It never occurred to me that a son was compulsory in the family. But I gave birth to two sons, so maybe that is the reason I long for a daughter now. Maharjan For my second child, I wanted a son, not because of the cultural significance of the male child but because I wanted to have both son and daughter. Gupta I too have two sons. When I had given birth to my second child, I wanted a daughter. But I have to admit that my family was very happy for the male child. However, my brother has only one daughter which was not taken too well by my late mother. She always insisted on the need of a son because she thought there will be no one to continue the family’s name. Mali I have not discriminated between my daughter and son. I have given equal opportunity to my daughter as much as for the son. And I believe that if my son in future has only daughter or daughters, I would not mind. As a housewife, what are the things that make you happy or unhappy? What do you think are missing out on? Mali What makes me satisfied is that I was there all the time with my kids when they were growing up. I was always home and available whenever my kids needed me. I used to feel that I was very lucky that I got to spend time with my family. But now, when I meet friends who are in good position of service or profession, I regret that I did not utilize my education. I even feel jealous of the identities they have built for themselves. Karmacharya I am happy that I am fulfilling my duties towards my in-laws, husband and my kids. It gives me great pleasure to have enough time to spend with my kids, to be with them and teach them good habits. But I am unhappy that I left my studies to take care of home and family. When my first child was born, I decided to stop my studies for a while till the kids grew up but now I have realized that it is not easier to resume studies after you get engaged with household. Chhetri I am happy that my presence has supported my family very well. My husband can concentrate on his job and not worry about the household. But I find it very demeaning when people underestimate housewives. People usually think that we have no work and are free all the time, which is not true. Thapa When my in-laws take my suggestions regarding household decisions and implement them, I feel good. But I am yet to discover the pros and cons of being a housewife since I got married very recently. Maharjan I was married early at the age of 19. I just had finished my +2 then, so I had to take leave from my studies after marriage. Now I have joined college to study for Bachelor’s degree but it isn’t as easy as before. However, though I was married early, I am lucky to have a very understanding husband and that makes me very happy. Gupta I have been happy in my 27 years of marriage. I have enjoyed most parts of my life but sometimes I remember the times when i was one of the most active students in my college. When I meet my friends, they’re shocked to know that I chose to stay home. Sometimes I feel maybe I could have established my identity if I had gone out of home. What do you feel about the political instability in our country? What would you do if you were at the decision making position? Gupta I used to bepolitically active during my student life. I even got involved with the student union. In those times, I had seen many such student leaders who were in politics for a noble cause. They were selfless and always working for the betterment of the student groups. Now, as I scan through the political scenarios, I think that a lack of such leaders is causing all the troubles in our country. The political leaders are here to fulfill only individual ambitions; they do not have plans for a better society or nation as a whole. Our country has gone haywire mostly due to that reason. Nepal needs a leader who can work selflessly for the people rather than for money, position or reputation. It’s not that we do not have those kinds of leaders in our country but they never come forward. Also, I believe decentralization will develop our country faster, so government as well as private sectors should think of setting up business and industries outside the Kathmandu Valley. Chhetri The selfish nature of the politicians has forced us to carry a negative attitude towards politics. The political instability has a heavy toll in the day-to-day life of the commoners. Water comes at two or three in the morning, the shortage of LPG forces us to cook our meals on stove, load shedding is another problem. Had there been good governance, this could have been managed easily. Maharjan LPG, water, electricity are basic necessities, but we Nepalis learn to adjust and compromise with everything. We are queuing up with money in our hands for these requirements yet the government is unable to fulfill our necessities. The well-to-dos have options but the situation of underprivileged is worse. I think that we do not voice our needs or opinions to the government in the right way. The citizens themselves are not united. How do you perceive the caste system in our society? How has it evolved to the present through time? Politicians are proposing federal states. What do you think about them? Chhetri The federal states will be like dividing our small country into much smaller pieces. The talks and discussion about federal states has brought much violence already. I doubt that there will be tolerance among each other if it is implemented. Maharjan There is an Aama Samuha in my community and we had to deal with Lalitpur Metropolitan city officials for some funds. In that group, I was the only one who could communicate in Nepali. The meeting used to be fine in my presence but when I was not there, the language barrier was a major problem. Lalitpur is mainly populated by Newars but the officials in the Lalitpur Metropolitan do not know the local language. I guess that the implementation of federal states will minimize these kinds of problems. Gupta I don’t believe that Nepal is ready for federal states right now. With less or no resources in one state and more in the other, I don’t think Nepal will be in a state of balance. There will be more chaos and governance will also be difficult. What are your hopes and aspirations? What is the one thing that is on top of your wish-list right now? Thapa My husband lives in America, so my foremost wish would be to get together with him and start my life with him. And yes, I want to go for a holiday at Miami Beach with him as soon as I reach there. Chhetri I love traveling. Even when I was young, I used to go around the Ring Road in a bus with my friends just for fun. So, for me, I would want to go on a Europe tour with my family. Karmacharya: I had left my studies to take care of my family and kids, so I would want to complete my Master’s. And as my kids are still small, let’s see if I will be able to work as well. Mali I have hopes for my children. I want to see them succeed. I want to see them married and happy. Both of my kids are out, so I want to meet them and see them often. Gupta My second child is just 13 now. I am diabetic and my health is not as good as before, so I wish that my health does not deteriorate until my kids grow up and become independent. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32625 The plight of hundreds of women horrifically scarred by savage acid attacks in Nepal can be revealed today. Many are deliberately targeted by husbands in so-called dowry violence in an attempt to extort money from their family. Others have terrible scars after setting themselves alight in a bid to kill themselves and end their brutal marriages.[break] Charity pioneer Wendy Marston has launched a drive to help the victims but admits it gets no easier to deal with the terrible aftermath of the acid attacks. Sitting in the burns unit of the Bir Hospital in Nepal’s capital city, Kathmandu, Wendy admits her life today is far removed from her childhood in the Highlands. But she insists the plight of young Nepalese women, like the one sitting in front of her, is simply too urgent and heart-wrenching to ignore. Wendy, 65, said: “It is hard to cope with seeing such devastating injuries but, sadly, it is the reality of what is happening here. “Many of the patients we see have burns across more than 75 per cent of their bodies. There are a great number of difficult cases.“But that just makes our work all the more important.” Wendy and husband Robin, 70, a former army major who served with the British Gurkhas, moved to Nepal more than 30 years ago. A chance meeting with a surgeon at a dinner led to Wendy volunteering to raise money to help improve care for the poorest burns victims being treated at the hospital where the doctor worked. Over the next 10 years Wendy was shocked to see that an ever-growing number of the patients admitted with horrific burns were young women who had either been attacked or had set themselves on fire to escape extreme poverty or domestic violence.Dowry violence was to blame for many of the injuries. Deeply moved by the stories of the young women she was meeting at the hospital, Wendy – who was born in Inverness – wanted to do something specifically to help Nepal’s poorest burns patients whose injuries were caused by such horror. So she and her daughter Alison, 33, set up the Burns Violence Survivors – Nepal charity. Now, three years on, the group are still working hard to give burns patients the short and long-term medical care and psychological support they need. Wendy, who moved to Edinburgh as a young girl and went to school in the city, said: “My husband and I first came to Nepal on a trekking holiday in 1976 and fell in love with the country. Two years later Robin left the army and was offered a post working with a trekking company in Nepal. “I had been a stewardess with British Airways for 12 years but took maternity leave as I was pregnant with our daughter. “We drove to Nepal from London in an old yellow Land Rover and trailer. It took us nearly six weeks to drive here and Alison was born in Kathmandu six weeks later. “We loved so many things about the country – the people, culture, weather and incredible scenery – that we decided to stay. “For most of that time I had no idea that burns violence was such a huge problem in Nepal. Then, about 13 years ago, I was at a dinner and sitting next to a Nepalese surgeon from a government hospital. “He asked me to help raise money for the very poor patients who came to him.” While extreme poverty – families doing everything by candlelight – is the root cause behind many of the accidental burns injuries Wendy sees, violence through domestic abuse or suicide attempts is behind the rest. She said: “Burns violence, whether from an acid attack, a homicide or a suicide attempt, is a deeply tragic form of violence, with serious, long-term physical and psychological consequences. “While there are no official statistics on burns violence, there is disturbing evidence that such incidents are now widespread and on the rise. There are many acid and dowry cases but one of the biggest problems is attempted suicides. “Many women, married off far too young, find themselves trapped in extreme poverty and with no way to improve their situation. “They attempt to commit so-called ‘spontaneous’ suicides by throwing kerosene over their heads.” In such a poor country, Wendy says few can afford to pay for the specialist hospital treatment they need to survive their burns. The fundraising she is spearheading allows many burns victims to receive medical, physiological and nutritional support which they would otherwise never be able to afford. BVS – Nepal are also working hard to promote vocational training aimed at preventing future cases of burns violence. Wendy said: “Burns are very expensive to treat and our patients are often in hospital for several months. “They are often so poor that they don’t even have their bus fare home after their hospital stay. “We are the only charity for burns victims in Nepal. Our role is to help pay for the operations and daily physiotherapy that patients need, medical supplies, extra nutrition, counselling, overalls, hospital furniture and even toys and games for the young burns patients at the nearby Kanti Children’s Hospital. “Most of the supplies we need are physically available in Nepal but we need financial donations to buy them. “Even the smallest donation can go a long way.” Daily Record http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32624 Durga´s tale Nepal has always inspired travellers and writers in search of adventure and spirituality. But for the Nepalese, the country’s recent history carries more pain than romanticism. Durga Devi Sharma would agree.[break] Her house is a shrine to the Hindu deities which she believes saved her life 10 years ago. “Here are Shiva, Parvati, and Ganesh. There’s also Vishnu. These are the sources of my power,” Durga explained. “I cannot stay alone without the pictures of the Gods. They are my friends, and my life. They have given me a second birth. I was a dead person. Whatever I have become today is thanks to the mercy of God.” Durga devi Sharma has been a police officer in Katmandu for 18 years. For her, Pashupatinath temple is not just a religious site. It was the scene of a tragedy that changed her family’s life, and her own, forever. “He pointed his gun toward my chest like this. I had no weapon with me. I tried to keep the gun away with my hands, and I ducked, and used my feet. He took one step back, and he shot. But the shot went above me. Then they fired again. They hit my arm, and my chest. I stumbled a few paces and I fell down.” It was in 2002, at the height of the civil war which pitted Maoist rebels of the People’s Liberation army against the Royal army, between 1996 and 2006. The conflict led to the abolition of the monarchy and the installation of a democratic republic. On a routine patrol during the conflict, Durga and several other police officers, including her husband, were just one target among many attacks by insurgents on security forces. Shot at close range in the arms and lungs, she spent several months in hospital, hovering between life and death. She was able to go back to her job in the police force. Quitting was out of the question even though the shooting had left her unable to do everything the job sometimes requires. “I feel positive things came out of it. I should have died, and I’m alive. I went back on duty, and I am working despite everything. I was able to come to the people, and give them my strength. That is something to be proud of.” Her husband was not so lucky. He was also wounded in the insurgents’ attack, and as a result he suffers from a more debilitating disability. He had to retire and now lives with the couple’s daughters in their village. Durga has been living alone in Kathmandu for the last three years to work. Apart from her husband’s modest pension, she is now the breadwinner. It is tough in a country where discrimination against women is commonplace, and a lot has yet to be done to ensure the country’s full social and economic development. “After the conflict, certain things should have been taken care of – like social reforms, and security. But it hasn’t happened. Women, for instance, still feel very insecure,” Durga said. Armed attacks, rapes, torture, and the killing of children and husbands — women paid dear in the war. The transition towards democracy still has not eased all of the tensions. Many are waiting for the new authorities to recognise the violence inflicted on women, the losses they endured, and to put an end to discrimination affecting women in Nepal. Durga remains optimistic. “The future of Nepal now lies in the hands of the people ruling it. If we have good leaders who understand the spirit and the hopes of the people, then we have a great future ahead.” Mina´s story “Women have to carry a gun to change society as and when needed. I was not alone, there were many women fighting with us,” said Mina, a 26 year old veteran soldier of the People’s Liberation Army in Nepal. “We could only change our lives, and change the country with weapons.” At the age of 18, she joined the ranks of the Maoist rebels who launched an insurgency against the monarchy in 1996. Ten years of conflict cost some 16,000 lives, A democratic republic was established two years after a peace deal was signed. Since then the opposing sides have been treading a difficult path to reconciliation. Mina is one of the many women who fought in the war. She lives in the Shaktikhor camp about 100 kilometres west of the capital Kathmandu. It is one of the areas where around 19,000 former rebels are waiting for rehabilitation. Mina lost her leg to a landmine while she was on a raid. “Women suffered a lot,” she explained. “When men joined the Maoists, their wives in the villages would be harassed by the security forces. Many were raped. There were many attacks, and they were tortured. Their eyes were pulled out while they were alive, and sometimes the soldiers doused them in kerosene and burned them alive. Those things really happened. Women suffered a lot in Nepal.” Mina says she fought to build a better future for women, and that their lot has improved considerably after the fighting. Starting with her own. Despite her disability, and the loss of her first husband during the war, she feels she has only gained from her experience. In the camp, she learned to read, and also met her second husband.“Things have changed a lot for women, and it definitely brought big changes for me, I have improved a lot. In my village, I was trapped inside four walls. All I did was cook. I knew nothing else. But now I have learned a lot. First, I could study here. I became very aware of politics. And I’ve learned to cut and stitch clothes. Most important for me, is I learned how to handle a weapon. And I learned how to make ammunition and explosives. That’s great for me.” Like many others, Mina is waiting for the implementation of the political process, aimed at rehabilitating former rebels, and integrating them into the Nepalese security service or regular army. Time passes slowly in the camp. Apart from reading and some household chores, Mina earns a modest income from making and mending clothes. Despite her losses, she says it was all worthwhile. “I have no regret because I was on a mission to change society. And women must be ready to lose something in order to gain something. We knew very well that we might lose a part of our body, or even our life. Looking back I’m glad I took part in that raid. You have to fight for your rights, you don’t just get them on a plate. You have to seize them. So I don’t have any regrets,” she said. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32413 “You have to see this photograph,” exclaims Dr Ashok K Banskota as his swift feet excitedly lead us to the children’s library at the Hospital and Rehabilitation Centre for Disabled Children (HRDC). Amidst the colorful alphabets and drawings that decorate the walls of the room is an old black and white photograph that he points at and says, “This is a boy I’ll never forget. This is Sajan.” The photograph shows Sajan playing badminton. The upper half is a pretty picture of the young boy with his bright eyes fixed on the racket that just made a hit or is expecting one, his smiling mouth slightly and eagerly open in anticipation. [break] The lower half, though, shows a gloomy side of his frail bare body exposing the white cotton patches dressed over the incisions in his thighs. A piece of cloth around his waist fastening him to a metal contraption with big wheelchair tires; and his small feet strapped to resting footpads. All this to help him stand upright and play. “He had spinal tuberculosis which had paralyzed his lower body and he used to stay curled up. After treatment, though, he could at least stand up and walk around with the help of crutches,” says Banskota, still gazing at the photograph. “Our staff built him this contraption during his recovery, just so he could play badminton.” Sajan’s is one of the many success stories and lives – 43,000 so far – that Dr Banskota and his team of orthopedic professionals have made possible over the years. Recognizing his contributions, the World of Children Award (considered the Nobel Prize for child advocates) had honored Dr. Banskota as their Health Honoree last November. You’ll see posters of him receiving the award hung everywhere in the hospital building. The center, its staff and patients, all seem to take pride in his achievement. However, as he walks us through the facility, greeting his patients and staff with a smile, there’s not a hint of conceit you would expect that a worldwide acclaim could have brought on him but his humility. Click here for the photo gallery. “Here’s another photograph of us during our initial days,” he says, now showing us a photograph of an operation theatre. “You see the lamp hung up there? We fastened it there ourselves with ropes. The old suction machine was donated by a German friend.” Right beside it is another photograph of a different operating room, the size of a narrow corridor. “I always believed that we could start from simple things,” Dr Banskota shares, “So I made do with anything we could find. Borrowed, donated, used – anything that could help us mend those children.” The planned 100-bed HRDC facility now sited atop a peaceful hillock in Banepa also had a humble beginning elsewhere. Around 1984, the Swiss organization Terre des Hommes (TdH) was looking to help physically disabled children in Nepal and they needed a leader to take charge of their program. When Dr Banskota, who at the time was volunteering and working in different hospitals, came into the scene, he took their simple idea of post-operative care for children to a whole new level. “Seeing the condition that the hospitals were in back then, I was insistent that if they really wanted to help, things had to be done properly. I mean, follow-up care wouldn’t make any sense unless it was provided with actual care or treatment in the first place.” Soon, as the program went into its planning phase with Dr Banskota leading the team, they realized the importance of a comprehensive treatment facility. Most pediatric cases he attended to were from very poor families who couldn’t afford follow-up care. So he shouldered the responsibility of building a complete unit of not just orthopedic surgeons but caretakers and community workers for overall care as well. By September 1985, patients were admitted to the facility built inside the Khagendra Nawa Jiwan Kendra in Jorpati. “Most of these old photographs are from back then. We were there for eight years,” says Dr Banskota and adds, “But we had to move out of there because of the way government organizations functioned. There was a lot of bureaucracy which we couldn’t deal with. We were thinking very big but they were just bound to rules.” After that, they ran a temporary facility in Dhobighat for another seven years. “During that time, we tried hard to sort out our goals. We had to find a way to collect a lot of funds or just close down. That was a period of severe soul searching for me,” he shares. However, the work had shown well and people trusted him. Support came, and in 1997, they could finally settle at their current location in Banepa. Now the facility that provides treatment for needy children below 16 years of age is recognized as one of the best in the world for treating clubfoot, a congenital foot defect where it turns inward and downward, and many other physical deformities in children. In the physiotherapy section, a health worker applies cast on the legs of a child stretched out on a table. Overseeing the procedure, Dr Banskota explains, “This is the Ponseti Method where we apply the cast over time to correct the alignment of feet in cases of clubfoot. This has been very effectual and feasible in Nepal because it’s a non-surgical and cost-effective method.” As you walk around the center, you’ll notice many children having received treatment with such casts, metal contraptions, different types of orthotics or braces that assist movement of limb or spine, prosthesis or artificial limbs and other assisting devices. While many children recover fully after some treatments or surgeries and are able to live normal lives, Dr Banskota points out that a many of them still have to wear or use certain devices for life. “From the very beginning, I had realized the need of having our own workshop to make assisting devices, prosthetics, orthotics and special shoes for our patients,” he shares as he walks us though the garden to the workshop. “We’ve always had a workshop since our days in Jorpati but only after coming here were we able to set up a well-equipped one.” The workshop smells of leather, plastic and metals. The first thing you see are artificial legs, shoes and a variety of limb supports on display. Inside, different sizes of black leather shoes with an opening in the front line up on a long table. In the adjoining room, workers are busy making orthopedic supports, most of which has to be custom-built according to the measurements and requirements of the patients. “Apart from children, this workshop also makes orthopedic supports to sell them at my other hospital, B & B,” says Banskota. “This generates some 600,000 Rupees every year for the operational costs of the center.” The workshop tries to reuse old materials to make the devices. Pipes and scrap aluminum metal are evident from the heaps of water pipes stored outside the workshop. “There are many challenges in running this facility,” says the Doctor. “We need to constantly think about maintaining enough funds to keep it running.” As the center provides its services to their needy patients almost free of cost or charge minimal amounts, it has been running with the support of a few donor agencies and top orthopedic surgeons and health professionals from Nepal donating their time and hard work. He ends the tour after a final inspection of the three busy operating rooms. In the waiting room outside, Doctor Banskota then settles down with his doctor son Bibek Banskota, just through with a surgery. Joined by another colleague and second in-charge Dr Babu Kaji Shrestha, they start discussing some cases and administrative details. Often, their talks sway into load shedding and politics but always come around to their patients and the center. “The children we treat here come from very deprived families, many from far and remote villages,” shares Banskota. “They come from such hardship backgrounds that if you listen, each one has a beautiful sad story to tell.” Khum Bahadur Pandey, 12, from Baglung has been at the center for six months after his surgery. Abandoned by his father, Khum has his old mother as his attendee who can’t even remember her own name sometimes. “Her name is Thum Kumari Pandey,” Khum answers for his skinny mother who stammers and shies away from most questions. He then shares that his legs were previously bending frontward from the knees, due to which he could not stand and had to crawl on his four limbs. The surgery transformed him as he is now able to stand and walk upright with the help of crutches. Then there are the Mandal siblings – Dukhi and Lalita. Both were operated on for their clubfeet at the center. Though they are fit to be discharged within two weeks, Tara Badan Sedai, educator at the center, informs that their father is worried about having to take them back to their village in Siraha. “Here, they are guaranteed their daily meals. Back home, even that becomes a challenge,” says Sedai “We’ve seen cases where children with disabilities are abandoned and have to face a lot of criticisms from the society.” Sedai, who herself was operated on by Dr Banskota for her joint infection when she was 16, still walks with a limp. “As I was bedridden and walked with crutches for years, I know the hardships and discriminations people with disabilities have to encounter everyday,” she says. Now involved with the Disabled Human Rights Center Nepal (DHRC) and HRDC, she says she is content to be working with and for disabled people in the society. Rasial Pariyar is another former patient at HRDC who now works there as a nurse. She was treated at the center for her bone disease when she was a fourth grader. Later, when she was in the eighth grade, she started working in the center as a helper. A hardworking girl, she wanted to study further but her economic condition was quite poor. With the help of some organizations which had been in good terms with the Center, she could complete her school and nursing course. “There was a time when my family members and the sisters (nurses) had to help me day and night for even simple things like walking and going to the toilet,” recalls a soft spoken Pariyar. “Now, that I get to work as a nurse myself and take care of children like me, the sense of joy and fulfillment I get is something you can’t explain in words.” Sedai, who like many at the center call Dr Banskota “Baa” or father, says his efforts and hard work over the years have not just helped patients improve their physical condition but opened their doors to whole new opportunities and possibilities. At his office in the B & B Hospital which he shares with his friend and business partner Dr Jagadish Lal Baidya, he looks through an x-ray of a patient as he slowly settles down in his chair. “I used to work from six in the morning till midnight in my initial years,” says Banskota. “Though I still juggle between operations and administrative work between my two hospitals, seminars, preparing journals and reading research papers, I take time to relax now. I have a strong spiritual focus, a well balanced life, follow the teachings of my Guru Paramahansa Yogananda to meditate and rejuvenate myself, and I love my work. All this still keeps me going strong.” Over at HRDC, he says, they now have a team of young doctors specialized to deal with most complex and complicated cases, dedicated Community Based Rehabilitation (CBR) workers, staff and well wishers who should be credited for the present success of the center. With an MS program in orthopedic surgery and several training programs, it has also been generating more skilled health professionals in the field. “With our CBR program, we’ve developed additional links with organizations outside Kathmandu to keep track of patients for follow-up care as well as identifying children who need assistance,” says Banskota. “At any given time, our network of activities includes minor surgeries in some70 districts of Nepal.” Moreover, they also work to create awareness and educate families about the preventive aspects of several diseases. “Almost 50 percent of the cases we deal with are preventable. Late report has been the major challenge. With early identification and a certain level of awareness, many children can be prevented from suffering and disabilities,” he says and adds with an unfaltering passion in his voice, “Seeing children suffer is completely another level of pain and I knew I had to do something about it.” For Banskota, who returned to Nepal in 1977 after completing his studies in the US, his initial years were a complete chaos and he often thought he made a mistake by coming back. As he couldn’t stick to mainstream government jobs, he kept himself busy with volunteer work. But his family was being driven to a state of almost poverty. “My basic goal in coming back was to use my skills and work. But I always ran into trouble with the authorities for their bureaucratic ways of working,” says Banskota. “You see, I wanted to work, not just hold a job.” More than three decades down the line, though, he says he now knows he made the right decision as he could never have had this sense of fulfillment had he been somewhere else. “I had realized from the very beginning that the state of healthcare in Nepal was very poor. And because the work was so challenging, it was more interesting for me as I knew I could be a change maker here, not in the West. There, you’re just some other guy.” Employing hundreds of people between his two hospitals and mending the lives of thousands of children from all over Nepal, Dr Ashok K Banskota now stands tall as a figure of inspiration and hope for many. And there is no denying he has been a change maker here – in its truest sense. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32412 In simple layman’s terms, the main source of energy is the sun. However, the light that comes from the sun is not distributed equally on the ground, and because of this unequal distribution, wind blows from one area where there is high pressure to areas where there is low pressure. Land, water and forests take the energy from the sun and return the energy, which is how wind is created. Through the wind and its speed, turbines can go in motion and energy is thus produced.[break] In Nepal where we are facing acute energy crisis, 100 megawatts of electricity can be easily generated through wind energy in a year. All it takes is for the government to take an interest and leadership. But the government seems least interested in this sector. One of the places in Nepal where maximum wind energy can be generated is Mustang. But the country’s inability to utilize such energy for electricity has led us to suffer in darkness. Various studies have proven that Mustang is rich when it comes to wind energy. But the leaders of the country are neglecting this fact. If an initiative is taken, the county can be free from load shedding woes within a year. But Nepal, the youngest republic in Asia and going through a transitional period, is suffering from the myopia of its leaders. This is further wasting the prospects of producing electricity though wind energy. But even businessmen are busy selling generators which run on diesel and petrol. The data provided by the wind calculating tower which was put up in Tangbe in Upper Mustang last year shows that from that region, more than 100 megawatts of energy can be generated. This report was provided by Mirlung Electro-Mec Concern, a private company which has been experimenting in the area. The company has set up the highest tower so far of 50 meters height in order to study, and it aims to generate 100 megawatts of electricity through wind energy within a year in Nepal. Before this, only research from the height of 36 meters had been done in the country. The director of the company, Amrit Singh Thapa, says that the report that has been received till now, and based on the study, has been very positive and has made him hopeful. Thapa further said that if the government takes the leadership and encourages the private company, Tangbe can demonstrate the abundance of wind energy in Nepal. In Tangbe, the wind blows for some 17 hours everyday at the rate of 12 meters per second, which is considered to be A-grade in terms of producing wind energy. The company is also planning to connect the wind energy of Tangbe to the national transmission grid. Tangbe is connected by an 11 KV transmission line, and from Jomsom, the transmission line is 33 KV. According to the company, there is a possibility of generating 1,000 megawatts of electricity from Mustang as a whole. “In other countries, the government takes the leadership when it comes to wind energy. But in our country, energy is considered to be only electricity generated from water or diesel,” complains Thapa. “The lack of manpower in terms of producing wind energy in the Ministry concerned is the reason for the subject to be in shadows,” says Balananda Paudel, former Secretary of the Ministry of Energy. He further said that if the government proposes to help in producing wind energy, they are eager and ready to help in technical or any other ways. According to Surya Sapkota, Senior Planning Officer of Alternative Energy Promotion Center at the Energy Ministry, the study done by a Danish team in the 1990s showed that there is a possibility of producing more than 200 megawatts of wind energy in Mustang. But Sapkota says that even though the wind pattern has changed now, more than 100 Megawatt of electricity can still be generated there. “During winter, the water level decreases and it gets difficult to generate energy. But in Nepal, wind force increases from November to April, and this is considered an ideal period for power generation by energy experts,” says Sapkota. “In the 1990s, after the wind energy tower was destroyed by a powerful wind, a rumor was spread that wind energy cannot be produced in the country. But this is not true,” opines Sapkota. “The tower fell due to technical errors. But in today’s world, wind technology has been developed to another level. There is even an automatic wind energy technology that works and stops according to the speed of the wind,” he said. The obstacle is the geography of the country, transmission lines and transportation of equipments required to produce wind energy. The equipments cannot fit even in big airlines, which is why it is difficult to transport them to the required locations. “In Nepal, there’s a possibility of wind energy of small wings,” said Sapkota. He further said that the government should encourage private companies to invest in producing wind energy and also make it easier for them. Water energy planning requires a minimum of three to four years for results; but for wind energy, it just requires one year at the most. The required materials can be imported from multinational companies of India. Mirlung Electro-Mec Concern says that unlike electricity generated from water, wind energy can be developed fast with the budget of Rs 150 to 200 million per megawatt; and if taken on a bigger planning, the budget can also be decreased. According to Alternative Energy Promotion Centre, the cost of wind energy per unit comes to less than Rs 10 and the sustainable amount is also less; whereas for diesel, it is Rs 30 per unit. Energy experts further add that erroneous developments going on in the hydroelectricity sector is keeping wind energy in the dark. The wind energy model which was set up in Nawalparasi last month has set an example that such technology can be replicated in other parts of the country as well. Possibilities in Kathmandu Valley Dawa Steven Sherpa, who is walking the 1,700km Great Himalayan Trail with multiple Everester Appa Sherpa, owns the Country Kitchen Resort at Lakuri Bhanjyang on the southeastern rim of Kathmandu Valley that completely runs on wind energy. For the last three years, the wind fan which has been set up on the roof of Kathmandu Engineering College located in Kalimati has been supplying the energy that is needed during the day. The Alternative Energy Promotion Centre in Khumaltar also gets its electricity through wind energy which has been set up at the place since last year. Country Kitchen which has been running on wind energy for the last three years and the possibility of doing the same in the area within and around colleges in Kalimati are good examples. Kathmandu is the only city in the whole of Asia which has been facing acute energy crisis. If wind energy technology is installed in the big buildings in and around Kathmandu, the problems of energy crisis will decrease to some extent. According to Mirlung Electro-Mec Concern, which has been experimenting with wind energy, the possibility of producing at least 20 megawatts of wind energy in and around Kathmandu has been proven and made clear by the study done by the American company 3TR. Amrit Singh Thapa again says that 30 percent of power can be easily generated if wind energy is installed in the big business houses in the capital. “Kathmandu Engineering College and Country Kitchen are good examples of this,” he reiterated. In the capital, wind blows from 9 am to 6 pm, and the report shows that steady wind blows for 12 hours in the surrounding passes of Kathmandu. But even though 3TR’s satellite wind mapping and land study has shown the possibility of wind energy in the capital, no one has taken any initiative on this. According to studies, in places like Godavari, Fakhel, Bhim Dhunga and Nag Dhunga in the Valley, wind blows at a highest level from where at least 20 megawatts of electricity can be generated. The Kathmandu Valley is surrounded by hills and is therefore windy. So turbines can be placed all over the areas. The wind force here is five meters per second. The possibility of producing wind en ergy is also evident at Kulekhani and Bhimphdi outside the Valley while inside it, the strategic points at Lakuri Bhanjyang, Nagarjun, Nagarkot, Phulchoki, Malta, Kushapani, Chapagaun and Gundu are ideal for wind energy installations. Bhatta is a senior correspondent at Nagarik daily and has been writing on environmental issues for the past eight years. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32409 Meera Dhungana, 46, a lawyer, was 28 when she first stepped into the courtroom to try her first case. Though confident, she says she was uncomfortable addressing the judge. In Nepal, the word used to address the judge is “Shreeman,” which means “Husband.” “To address a judge as, ‘Shreeman,’ that too for an unmarried woman to use that word, it becomes quite awkward,” she says. [break] She says the consequences can be more than discomfort for female lawyers. “For women who aren’t confident enough, it could even put a negative impact on their case, resulting in them losing the case and denying their party justice,” she says. Dhungana says she remembers that she didn’t address the judge during that first case. “‘Shreeman’ is someone who we are married to officially,” she says. “But due to the existing traditions, we are forced to use this word in the court.” She says sometimes people mock female lawyers for addressing the judge using this term, which makes it hard for them to be taken seriously in court. “There are instances when clients laugh when we refer to judges as, ‘Shreeman,’” she says. Dhungana, who started her legal career in 1993, says that although she didn’t address the judge her first time in the court, she later had to follow the protocol to avoid being discourteous. “It was only after six months that I started to address the judge as, ‘Shreeman,’” she says. The term dates back to before women served as lawyers or judges, and men started to use it to mean “officer.” But for women, they say it has no other meaning for them than “husband.” Dhungana says women have tried to band together to change the term, but to no avail. She says judges have the power to change it in practice, but they have not. “In a national assembly of women’s advocate[s], we decided that we wouldn’t use the word ‘Shreeman’ to address the judge,” she says. “But it couldn’t be enforced.” She says this tradition would be frowned up internationally. “Women in other countries might be shocked that Nepali advocates, fighting for the justice of others, are themselves working against their will in the courts – addressing the judge as, ‘Shreeman,’ or, ‘Husband,’” she says. From lawyers to members of Nepal’s Constituent Assembly, female professionals say that the tradition of addressing judges as, “Husband,” in court jeopardizes their comfort and success on the job. Campaigns to change the term have been unsuccessful. Female legal professionals say this reflects the overall discrimination against them, which ranges from more restrictions in court to fewer opportunities for advancement. They say their disproportionate responsibility to take care of their homes and children also makes it harder for them to advance in the field than men. While some say a government quota can help increase their participation, others say increasing women’s enrollment in law school is key to improving equality while maintaining quality. There are more than 22,600 men working in the legal field, according to 2011 data from the Nepal Bar Association, the federal organization of Nepali practicing lawyers. In comparison, there are just 1,865 women. Bimala Khadka, a lawyer, has been working in this field for a decade addressing the judge as, “Shreeman.” She says the term reflects the early domination of the legal profession by men. “In terms of gender biasness, until recent history, it was unthought of of a woman to be a judge,” she says. “Hence, the word was used to address a judge as the profession only had men.” The first woman to practice law in Nepal received her certificate from the Supreme Court in 1960, about a decade after the first high court was established in the country and several years after the Supreme Court enabled women to practice. This certificate meant she could file cases but not fight them. The first woman to be able to fight cases registered as an advocate in 1963. The first female judge was appointed in 1966, and the first woman joined the Supreme Court in 2001. Yet, the tradition of referring to judges as, “Shreeman,” is still in practice. Source: UNIFEM Sushma Baral, 49, a lawyer, says addressing the judge as, “Shreeman,” is discriminatory and thus makes the legal sector challenging for women. And it’s not only the female lawyers who face awkward situations that could impede their work because of the term. Members of the Nepali Parliament say they too have hesitated to put forward their opinions in court because of the term. When there is a female judge, male and female parliamentarians say it’s uncomfortable to address her as, “Shreeman.” Lucky Sherpa, a member of Nepal’s Constituent Assembly, says it’s also uncomfortable for female members of Parliament to call male judges, “Shreeman.” “Once, I was at a discussion in the presence of a judge who had to be referred to as, ‘Shreeman,’” she says. “I kept quiet until I heard a fellow woman address him as, ‘Sir.’ Only then could I put forward my thoughts.” Sapana Pradhan Malla, another Constituent Assembly member and a lawyer as well, has been leading the campaign to not address judges as, “Shreeman.” But Malla says the campaign has lost its momentum. Men’s dominance in Nepali society also reflects in the country’s judicial system, she says. Khadka says that female lawyers started a campaign to use the Nepali phrase for “Your Honor” instead. “In 2009, at a national assembly in Butwal in western Nepal, the women had also decided to change it,” she says. They also presented a formal application to Keshav Prasad Upadhyaya, then the chief justice. But the term was not changed. Rameshwor Rawat, a male lawyer, agrees that the term should be changed. “The word, ‘Shreeman,’ is used as a respectable word to address the judge,” he says. “But due to this literally meaning in Nepal, it is better not to use the word.” But he says there needs to be a uniform and respectful term to replace it. “It’s not acceptable that some advocates don’t address the judge and some address them as, ‘Sir,’” he says. “There needs to be uniformity.” He says that people shouldn’t be averse to change. “There have been many transformations in the country,” he says. “Thus, it’s nothing new that the way to address a judge is also looking for change.” Women say the endurance of this term reflects the overall culture of discrimination against them in the legal profession. Some female advocates say that judges often don’t pay attention while they are making their points in court, while judges listen to their male counterparts regardless of time limits. Anita Manandhar Joshi, a lawyer and member of the Nepal Bar Association, says that judges don’t take women seriously. For example, she says that judges listen to long, irrelevant discussions from her male counterparts but ask her to cut her arguments short. “This is another example of the discrimination that goes [on] here,” she says. She says that this culture discourages women from participating in the field, with women making up less than 10 percent of licensed legal professionals in Nepal. “There are only 7 percent women with license to practice,” Joshi says. Shova Karki, 31, another lawyer who belongs to the Nepal Bar Association, says that sometimes male lawyers shout and ask irrelevant and insignificant questions during court proceedings. Meanwhile, female lawyers are kept on a tight leash, asked to stay on track, or sometimes told to be quiet while asking a question or making an argument. “It’s sad that people look at what women are doing as menial,” she says. She says this limits women’s advancement in law. “There’s a social notion that women cannot work as men do, and it’s because of this narrow-minded mentality that women aren’t given higher responsibilities in the work hierarchy despite their qualifications and experience,” she says. Karki says that women also receive fewer opportunities than men. “There’s isn’t a contributory work environment for women,” she says. “They’re not given opportunities to participate in trainings, seminars and conferences. But fellow male counterparts get all this opportunities because they are men.” Baral agrees. She says that studying is not enough and that lawyers need constant practice to improve. But she says men receive more opportunities to practice. “In this profession, men are given more priority and opportunities regardless of fellow women who are working hard night and day,” she says. Women say that their responsibilities in the home are another hurdle to their advancement in the field. “Because women have to be responsible for the household, the number is comparatively lower than men,” Baral says. She says it is difficult for a woman to be a lawyer and have a family with the current structure of the family and legal system in Nepal. “Though women are energetic and enthusiastic, most of them don’t practice after marriage,” she says. “And though they’re active, they haven’t been able to reach to the leadership positions.” Joshi says that there are fewer women than men in the profession because of the dual roles they must balance. She says being a housewife gives women less time to study and practice law. Ram Maya Dhakal, from Jhapa, a district in eastern Nepal, started practicing law soon after graduating from university. But she says the number of cases she handled were limited because of her responsibility to her family. After she got married, her husband established his own school, and Dhakal says she was forced to look after the management of it, ending her law career. Baral cites these domestic responsibilities as one reason that the federal quota set to increase women’s participation in the field has not been met. “The state has a 33-percent quota for all its divisions,” Baral says. “But it isn’t so in the legal field.” Others reject this quota. Lawyer Narayah Kumar Shrestha says that the state should have an open competition for men and women. He says the 33-percent quota for women makes women look weaker than men and doesn’t allow for the best lawyers to enter the profession. “In all the sectors, for all the positions, there should be an open and fair competition for men and women,” he says. “So whoever is better qualified will get the position.” He instead recommends education as the key to quality and equality. “Women should be more encouraged to join legal studies,” he says. At the Nepal Law Campus, one of the main law schools in Kathmandu, the student body is 75 percent men and 25 percent women, Joshi says. Until there is more parity in the legal field, Baral says the best way to win her clients’ trust is through consistently high-quality work. “Looking at how I handle my cases, clients have actually left their advocates and come to me,” she says. Copyright Global Press Institute 2012 Female Lawyers Protest Discrimination in Nepali Legal Sector http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32408 What’s the solution to the rule of NRB that allows only 80% of the deposits to be used for lending? You mentioned that it was one of the reasons that the rates weren’t going down. Should banks be allowed to lend 100% of what they have? The good news for borrowers is that banks have already started dropping their lending rates in spite of the requirement to maintain higher liquidity. As I mentioned in a previous column, competition amongst banks in Nepal is stiff enough, and market forces work very well when it comes to lending rates.[break] But the issue really is not how high the mandatory credit deposit ratio of 80% is; it is how profitably the balance of 20% can be deployed. Right now, options available are limited and banks earn less than 1% p.a. on these funds. Banks need to price their loans in such a way that 80 Rupees of loan they disburse yields them sufficient returns to cover interest on 100 Rupees of deposit plus overheads plus risk premium plus profit for shareholders. And I can tell you, banks are currently not in a position to cover all of the above. This is evident from the falling net interest income and rising loan loss provision being reported by almost all banks. Should banks be allowed to operate at tighter liquidity margins? Maybe not. If you recall, increased liquidity requirement was made mandatory following our experiences with liquidity stress not so long ago. But the authorities can certainly consider issuing higher yielding government bonds so that a bank’s weighted average return improves. In the current scenario, the government is the sole beneficiary of ridiculously cheap funds it gets to access from banks through treasury bills. And most of this money is lying idle in the government coffers! It will also help if the government expedites spending on infrastructure projects and other productive areas with a view to improving business conditions. At the end of the day, the government must play a key role in leading economic growth. What is the crux of the IC misappropriation scam? Why are banks being drawn into it? Are they involved? A number of business firms made numerous Indian Rupee denominated payments to beneficiaries in India through bank drafts. Applicants are required to submit documents evidencing underlying transactions, e.g., invoice, customs paper, transport documents as applicable – which they did. These transactions were business as usual for banks until authorities discovered that the customs papers submitted to banks by the applicants were fake. So the case really is about a bunch of dishonest people exchanging Nepali Rupees for Indian currency through a number of bank branches by producing fake documents. The authorities have been investigating this scam for six months now. A few people associated with the firms perpetuating the frauds have reportedly been apprehended and a number of bank officials have been asked to explain to determine whether there has been any collusion. Banks have rightly maintained that there has been no collusion. Issuance of Indian currency draft is one of the basic services banks provide. With increasing number of bank branches, this service is readily and easily available for trade transactions. In fact, banks are the victims of this scam rather than anything else. Banks deal in documents, and transactions are done in good faith. International laws governing trade transactions clearly stipulate that banks are not responsible to determine the genuineness of a document presented to them. General common sense approach is adopted, though. But hindsight is 20/20, as they say. The other aspect of this scam which hasn’t been paid too much attention to, it appears, is the fact that these drafts were made payable through bank accounts in India. Investigating authorities can dig deeper with the help of Indian banks who are in a position to provide the details of beneficiaries in India. What’s also worrisome is that government authorities do not accept shortcomings in their system. Even today, there is no mechanism or notification based on which banks can differentiate a fake customs document from a genuine one. The lesson learnt from this episode is that banks need to constantly be on their toes as criminals always try to stay a step ahead. Recent and ongoing debates, globally and nationwide, on KYC and anti-money laundering drive, is in the backdrop of such incidents. How viable is agriculture in terms of investment for banks? Do you suppose the market is mature enough to warrant big investments, moving away from small aground farmers? I believe the agriculture sector needs to evolve further before banks can build a sizeable portfolio here. Improvements are necessary on issues ranging from crop insurance, labor management challenges, land pooling, storage and transport infrastructure, etc. You may argue that it’s a bit of a chicken and egg: how will many of these issues be addressed without investment? You are right. But commercial banks have limited risk appetite as they need to eventually pay off their depositors. So these investments are best done through development or government agencies. Nonetheless, there are numerous examples of banks having loaned to agri businesses. Unfortunately, there are very few success stories – mostly due to the issues discussed above. A large floriculture venture comes to my mind as an example. Some 10 years on, this exposure is an NPA for lending institutions. In the midst of all these challenges, I believe we are gradually moving to a scenario where commercial farming is beginning to look more feasible than before, the primary drivers being demand, low entry/exit barriers, and availability of money. Banks are not averse to entering this space, even if the risk is relatively higher, partly due to regulatory direction and also due to the fact that there aren’t too many investment avenues. It’s true the market isn’t mature enough and risks arising from continued political chaos are still huge. However, if the authorities were able to walk the talk with respect to promoting agriculture, I believe the private sector will not shy away from making further investments here. Joshi is the CEO of Laxmi Bank http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32407 I liked masu-bhat a lot as a young boy. Masu-bhat (meat-and-rice) was once-a-week fare then, and during Dashain, the smell of cooked meat pervaded every corner of our home. But as I grew up to be able to contemplate on pain and death and, one Dashain, saw fear in the eyes of the goat brought for sacrificial killing, and the way it fell to the ground shaking after its head was severed, I didn’t like where and how the meat came from.[break] But still I didn’t stop eating meat. My heart would shed ‘crocodile tears’ but saliva continued to ooze in my mouth at the thought of having meat. You see, I liked meat so much. But the ambivalent feeling of whether to quit or eat it hung over my mind every time I swallowed a morsel of meat. I could not be like some meat-eaters who enjoyed meat guiltlessly. But broaching the subject turned them grumpy, which I sensed was either simply out of irritation or a feeling in some corner of their heart that all was not right and good about killing animals for meat when there are hundreds of other ways to satisfy both our hunger and tastes and the body’s quest for protein. Most meat eaters have common ruses. They say how else can the growing number of animals be checked? They completely ignore the fact that these days many animals are raised under induced conditions to make them reproduce faster to fulfill the demand for meat. In some countries, the situation is even worse: animals are force-fed all sorts of ‘enhancers,’ some of which can cause cancer in humans who eat the meat! Then there is another argument that no other food can fulfill the need for protein that meat provides. Does that sound like telling all the vegetarians of the world are living with some sort of physical or nutritional deficiency? I think we know better than that. We can get sufficient protein from lentils, beans and other pulses, in addition to some other good sources. Yet some present forth extreme notions like what should carnivores (tigers, lions, wolves) do? Isn’t that like comparing humans with beasts? It puts a question mark on our ability as humans to make choice, have discretion and act according to our conscience, all of which beasts can’t do. I mean we can, if we so choose, survive on vegetarian food but that’s not how things are with carnivores. Another of the extreme arguments is: Don’t plants feel pain when they are cut for food? Well, I don’t want to go into what researches say, but everybody will agree to the fact that plants have poorly developed nervous system; therefore, they are less likely to feel as much pain as animals and humans who have much well developed nervous system by comparison. Always-been-vegetarians and meat-eater-turned-vegetarians also have interesting reasons for their being so. Apart from religious grounds and disinclination from childhood, some come up with bizarre reasons like the man who said he quit meat after watching a speeding bus crush a man whose insides (you know, gidi, bhudi, andra and all), as he lay splattered on the road, resembled the insides of a goat! Yet for another man it was a moment of awakening that made him renounce meat forever. He heard his guruji say, “Our stomach is not a graveyard for dumping carcasses of animals!” As for me, I have become a reluctant meat eater who is on the way to become a full-fledged vegetarian for a reason that might sound even more bizarre: a message from my subconscious. Once I found myself walking along a dark passageway, both sides of which were tall buildings with balconies hanging over it from each floor. The walls of the building were blood-splattered and the passageway itself was littered with chunks of rotten meat that gave off nauseating stench. As I fretfully negotiated my way, it felt as if somebody was following my movement from the top of the building. I looked up queasily and was shocked to discover that those eyes were of nobody but those of mine. Call it a stupid interpretation, but immediately after I woke up I realized what the dream was all about. The narrow passageway, apparently, was my stomach and the tall buildings with protruding rows of balconies my rib bones. As for the bloodstains and rotten chunks of meat, it appeared as if my subconscious was giving me a tour of my own entrails and letting my eyes see how it was full of unsavory stuffs. It led me to conclude that my body conspired with my subconscious to drive home the message: can’t take meat anymore! The writer is a copy editor at Republica. He admires Gabriel Garcia Marquez and wishes to someday write a novel imitating his style http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32406 Nepali emigrants are beginning to establish close-knit, flourishing communities in the U.S. One of the largest is in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of New York City, where immigrants have opened businesses and created jobs. Among the first Nepali immigrants to arrive in the area was Mohan Gyawali, a community organizer who opened a nail salon called Mt. Everest. [break] Many immigrants after Gyawali have started their own businesses, most commonly restaurants and nail salons. Future entrepreneurial immigrants can take advantage of the U.S. State Department’s EB-5 investor visa program by starting their own business or by investing in an existing business, creating jobs in the U.S. for fellow Nepali community members and thus significantly increasing remittance dollars returning to Nepal. In today’s increasingly global society, emigration is on the rise in Nepal. The World Bank reports that in 2010, a staggering 3.3% of Nepal’s population emigrated, a total of approximately 982,200 people. The United States is one of their top five destinations, in addition to India, Qatar, Thailand, and the United Kingdom. Many emigrants have high levels of education, with 5.3% of the population with a post-secondary education emigrating in 2000. This shift in emigration is contributing to a wealth of economic benefits for Nepal, as Nepali immigrants to the U.S. are becoming more successful and sending money back home. In Nepal, remittance makes up 23% of the nation’s entire Gross Domestic Product (GDP). This rate puts Nepal among the top five countries where remittance significantly contributes to the GDP. Various surveys cite Nepal’s high remittance rates as a factor in creating lower poverty rates and a higher standard of living. Remittance to Nepal was estimated at US$3.5 billion by 2010, and the rates are steadily increasing with more and more Nepali immigrants in the U.S. sending money back to their homeland. In fact, the World Bank estimates that global remittance rates to developing countries will be over US$300 billion in 2012. This capital is becoming an ever more important source for Nepal’s foreign exchange, especially as national income from exports is decreasing. Although immigration to the U.S. and remittance rates are increasing, there are still several obstacles immigrants must overcome. The most commonly available US visas are obtained through the Electronic Diversity Visa (EDV) system, where potential immigrants enter a lottery to obtain a Green Card. The goal of the program is to encourage immigration to the U.S. from countries with low immigration rates, thereby increasing the ethnic diversity in the U.S. Nepal currently receives the ninth highest number of EDVs with 4,259 winners, but the number of visas available internationally is limited and the application process is overwhelming. Even if an individual applies, there is no guarantee he or she will secure a visa; so the process can be incredibly frustrating and unpredictable. Would-be immigrants may have to apply multiple times before winning a visa; some applicants never get a visa despite trying in vain year after year. Furthermore, visas from the lottery do not ensure employment, housing, or services for immigrants, which means many people find themselves working at low-paying or unskilled jobs in the U.S. While this is a common process for Nepali emigrants heading to the US, an alternative to the uncertainty of the lottery system is available through the U.S. State Department’s EB-5 investor visa program. The EB-5 visa is an alternative immigration choice developed for successful businesspeople and entrepreneurs around the globe. Essentially, an individual can make an investment of at least one million dollars into a business in the U.S. and receive a Green Card. EB-5 visas have been available for two decades, but the program has become increasingly popular in recent years. The number of applicants around the world continues to grow considerably, tripling between 2008 and 2010. EB-5 can prove to be an excellent source of remittance dollars for Nepal’s economy while helping Nepali entrepreneurs to truly realize their potential – a win-win situation. While thousands of applicants take an interest in the EB-5 program, the complexity of the application process can be daunting. “At the very least, the applicant should have an immigration lawyer,” says Alexander Aginsky, Managing Director of Aginsky Consulting Group, a leading expert in the U.S. immigrant-investor program, “but what these applicants really need is a professional financial advisor who can help make sound investments and guide through the application process.” From starting a business to investing into real estate, or even establishing a U.S. branch of their current company, investors have no shortage of options as long as the investment is at least one million dollars and creates ten jobs. The level of involvement in the business is at the investor’s discretion, allowing the investor to maintain a large degree of freedom. Various factors motivate investors to pursue the visa: some are looking to flee their home countries for safety, others are unsatisfied with the corruption and bureaucracy widespread in emerging economies, and some are seeking further opportunities for growth. “At some point, these businessmen just can’t take it any longer,” says Aginsky. “They may love their homeland, but eventually they realize that the best thing for their families and their businesses is to emigrate.” Numerous benefits are available to investors who attain EB-5 visas. An investment of this type is a personal exit strategy to hedge against economic volatility and political instability, common in developing economies. Prudent businesspeople apply for the U.S. immigrant investor program to stay ahead of the game, diversifying their portfolios and minimizing exposure to local economic swings. The program is advantageous to the families of investors as well; visas are provided for the investor and his or her immediate family, ensuring a wealth of opportunities for future generations. While emigrant numbers continue to increase, remittance has not increased proportionally. Remittance from successful entrepreneurs will be a critical contributor to Nepal’s economy, and EB-5 is a perfect mechanism for such entrepreneurs. EB-5 will allow innovators and businessmen in Nepal to utilize the latest technologies not available locally and market and sell their products to the world’s most dynamic markets. Their significant investments will generate income that, in turn, can return to Nepal in the form of remittance. Whether an investor’s motivations stem from a desire to protect capital from economic uncertainty or unstable political conditions, increase diversity of investments, provide greater opportunities for family members, or take advantage of growth opportunities, the EB-5 investor visa provides an opportunity for a stable course toward U.S. residency while significantly increasing the amount of capital being remitted to Nepal. The authors can be contacted at acgpdx@aginskyconsulting.com http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32405 Back in the summer of 2010, I wrote here about the differences between Macs and PCs, and how my family business had gone over to the iSide of things – ditching all of our PCs for two reasons: Mac Freakonomics and malware. Now, as we enter into a lovely and early Nepali summertime this 2012, I am happy to report that on the freakonomic front, our investment in Apple has paid off. [break] Here’s how the Freakonomics of purchasing a Mac computer works: you pay twice as much (initially) but your computer lasts at least three or four times as long. For example, my 4-year-old MacBook Pro laptop cost twice as much as a comparable windows-based laptop in 2007, but is still going strong today and running the latest Apple operating system just fine: OSX Mountain Lion. That’s four iterations of the OS (Leopard, Snow Leopard, Lion, Mountain Lion), and still this box is not yet obsolete. But come summer of 2013 (hardware withstanding), this MBP will have to be retired if I want to continue running the latest and greatest software (and of course I do). You see, Apple has announced it will replace OSX each and every summer from here on out, so in the summer of 2013, Mountain Lion will be replaced by another yet-undisclosed feline. But on another front – the continuing battle with malware on computers – Macs are not faring as well as before. In the past few months, a Trojan called Flashback has hit Apple users, and it’s a rather insidious bug. If a user accepts a fake security certificate presented and purportedly signed by Apple, then all user ids and passwords stored in that machine are at risk of being sent home to Black Hat Incorporated. In other words, you are scroomed. But to prevent that from ever happening, all you have to remember are two things: 1) don’t accept fake security certificates, and 2) install the free and fast virus scanner called VirusBarrier Express from Intego.com. It’s a beautiful app and a no-brainer to run, and there is even a version that protects iPhone users from various security issues. Another freaky freakonomic that applies to both Macs and PCs is this: for every file that gets put on your hard drive, there is probably another one of equal value there as well, just wasting space. Eventually, enough of these duplicates will fill your hard drive and require you to buy another. So to save money on hard drives (which have gone UP in price this year and not DOWN), then just get a copy of Gemini, The Duplicate Finder. This is an elegant app that costs just Rs. 400 in the Apple App Store. For PC users, the equivalent is Auslogics Duplicate File Finder, which is free and easy to use, albeit without the cool interface. I recently did my annual spring-cleaning using these tools, and from all of my terabytes of saved movies, music, photos and whatnot, I saved myself about 128GB of space – the equivalent of a very small hard drive – or in freakonomic terms, about Rs. 1,000. Depending on the type of HDD you use (either the mechanical variety or the expensive SSD kind), your savings could be even more. Another freaky app that a friend turned me on to recently combines the GPS in your phone with Google Earth Maps to give you a live interactive compass – for FREE! I have a lot of friends into trekking here, and I bet you know a few as well that might have a hardware dongle hanging around their neck that tells them what direction they are walking, and also records waypoints and whatnot along the way. These usually run about Rs.4,000 and requires constant charging just like your phone and everything else. But now with Commander Compass Lite, you can have a much better display of where you are and where you are heading, and did I mention, it’s FREE! The unique feature of this app is that it overlays a traditional GPS compass display over a Google map of your location, and allows you to see where you are, and where everything else is as well (for example, a new coffee bar that you might want to check out). Commander Compass turns your iPhone (and later this year your Android) into a MILSPEC, Tactical, and Gyro device that eliminates the need to carry another device just for these purposes. But what I like most about it, and would probably use for the next time I party in Pokhora, is the feature that lets you mark a spot, like where you last parked your motorbike, and then find it again in the morning. Oorah! Well, if you want to share some techie Freakonomics of your own, click on over to myrepublica.com and just append them to this article. Jiggy Gaton is quirky kinda techo-expat who thinks his phone should do more than talk like a pretty girl http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32404 Growing up, all of us were taught what tolerance was and what it meant to be tolerant. We were taught the value of being respectful and the value of being appreciative. In sum, we were taught acceptance. Or at least I hope we were. And as has been established previously (in my columns and elsewhere in life alike), books and real life are not necessarily based on the same foundation.[break] Till a while back, I always thought of myself to be a very tolerant person – respectful of others’ cultures and others’ orientation and family values and of everything else in general. Not until a few days back did I realize how intolerant I am of things that I’m not familiar with. Or if “tolerant” is too harsh a word, then perhaps condescending would be a better word. Come to think of it, many of you too, like me, may be more intolerant/condescending than you let on. No wonder the concept of “cultural shock” exists. To come from one place, one kind of thinking and one kind of values and then to use that as a base for understanding other cultures, or other age groups, or other relations, is a pretty complicated phenomenon I’ve begun to feel. For instance, in this one particular country (let us call it C for reference here), it’s apparently absolutely normal to talk to one another in loud, very loud voices and have a blunt tone while addressing others. People in this country C seem to be oblivious to more affectionate and milder mannerisms. Or maybe to be loud is to be affectionate in their culture (?). On the other hand, I’m pretty sure the people of country C will have a hard time adjusting to the soft, mellow pace of the rest of the world because they seem to be so vociferous, if I may, in their approach to life. And in all this, where do my sentiments stand when it comes to tolerance? I think you already know. But let me share a story with you about this matter anyway. There I was sitting down when a citizen from country C started screaming and shouting at her fellow country mate, I presume. A lot of gibberish (to me) words were thrown in her direction in an ear-piercing voice. This, needless to say, attracted a lot of stares from the people around and I shall admit that even I was among those staring. All the while this was going on, I sat thinking they were having an argument and one was yelling at the other, making a rather unnecessary public display. Not until much later into their loud conversation when I was forced to ask another person from the same country what was going on did I find out that they were merely talking about their new purchases at a mall. Wow, I understand that shopping can be exciting, but I had never before seen such a level of excitement over shopping till then. Talk about different approaches to life! For me, the whole experience was, at best, surprising. I have to admit that I was a bit irritated with them for creating such a commotion and being so disrespectful of those around. But hey, it all bottles down to tolerance, I guess. To take yourself out of your shoes and place yourself in someone else’s – as the cleshay goes – I think requires also detaching yourself from your “customized” values. It requires forgetting what you’ve learnt and adopting a fresh perspective. And even then, things aren’t that simple. Let me share another experience here. So, like I mentioned earlier, we all learn about what it means to be accepting, and with that we learn not to judge anyone or anything else. But I must appreciate here how difficult the whole thing really is. I have a lot of gay friends and I truly respect them. They are as similar to and as different from as any one of us. That having been said, I also want to mention how it’s not very common to see gay people growing up in Nepal. This discrepancy in lifestyle obviously requires ideological overcoming. The bottom line here being I’m still getting used to the whole phenomenon. In a crazy photo session, one of my friends may have done a slight effeminate pose. And in response to that, another of my friends remarked, “That was a very gay pose.” A horrible thing to say, but that thought had crossed my mind too – I’m sure like most people there. Now given that we had no gay friends in that circle, it would be okay. But the fact was that we did. And to have to sit there and just try to avoid acknowledging what had just happened was one of the most awkward experiences of my life. My point in all this being that if we were truly tolerant and welcoming of the diversity, there would be less room for such errors. We wouldn’t have to use the word “gay” in a condescending tone. However, I do admit that all of us are trying and all of us are better for accepting more views than one. But the fact that we sometimes look at things from our culture makes me want to ask this fundamental question: How tolerant are we, really? Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32401 First of all, let us all pray for the victims of the NOC bomb blast and their families. Our Home Minister is busy preventing political pressures and implementing zero tolerance policy on police corruption that he has no time to formulate security measures to prevent such incidents. I think our ‘Homie’ has been quite successful in his attempt to reform the police force. He has resisted pressures from other political parties to transfer or promote senior police officials. [break] Well, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had fun moving them police wallahs around. He gets to pressure them all by himself, kya. And yes, our traffic police wallahs are less corrupt nowadays since they get a cut of them traffic violation tickets issued to those who refuse to wear the seatbelts, ignores the overhead bridges or happens to drink a peg of whisky at his friend’s wedding. Our APF wallahs have already learnt how to make a few dinero from the border checkpoints. Our cops still get free apples from the fruit sellers, free recharge cards from the illegal parking operators and free booze and snacks from the late night joints in town. Our government would rather spend our dough on their own cadres, contractors and cousins than use some of it to strengthen our intelligence units. I think our intelligence agents could get more reliable information from the local chiya pasals and bhattis, but thanks to our policewallahs, everybody has stopped drinking after 8pm and most of our chiya pasals don’t have cooking gas to make them special chiyas. Finally, we have some ‘smart asses’ at NOC who have decided to introduce consumer cards so that we can all get some cooking gas. Not all NOC employees are corrupt but all of them from peon to the hakims seem to have rich in-laws or come from ‘hunay-khaney’ families. No wonder, all of them employees seem to be loaded. You and I will get them ‘red card’ rey, and the businesses will get the ‘blue card’ but I think our NOC officials would have done us a favor if they had issued a ‘white’ card to all politicians and hakim sahebs. Then we would have matched the colors of our national flag, ni. Red, White and Blue! White cards will get our netas cooking gas within 15 minutes of calling the NOC hakims and they don’t even have to pay for it. The national dhukuti will cover it, kya. This is what happens when a bunch of freeloaders get to run the country! NOC plans to sell them cooking gas at cost price to businesses and the profits will then help them to provide discounts to students and needy families, rey. We all know how the system works. The real students and needy ones will get nothing while the political chamchas and cousins will get ‘cheaper’ cooking gas. While we have to stay in line for hours to get a few liters of petrol, our police wallahs and personal assistants of our politicians can just cut the line and fill up their tanks. Talking about personal assistants, let us all feel sorry for Mr. Yadav, the PA to our State Forest Minister. The fool got caught red-handed while receiving bribe at a restaurant in Anamnagar. Somebody forgot to tell him that our intelligence agents are all busy drinking lemon soda and having chicken chowmein at all them food joints around Singha Durbar. Nobody really gets caught taking bribes in ‘New Nepal.’ He must have really pissed off someone at the Forest Ministry, hola. I guess he forgot the mantra of ghooskhori jadoo! ‘Sharing is caring,’ ki ke bhanchha ni. Dr. Saheb wants to wrap up the road widening projects in the Valley as there is no budget or coordination among them NEA, NTC and Sadak Bivag wallahs, rey. Somebody needs to remind our ‘Smarty Pants’ that his job is to wrap up the Peace Process and give us a new Constitution. Yes, we do have a little bigger (and dustier) roads now and we will have more traffic jams because we, the pedestrians, will now have to compete with all the micros, tyampoos and bikers to get to the other side, kya. On the bright side, we may have no security (all police wallahs have been deployed to guard our VVIPs and sarkari offices!) and no cooking gas, either, (party palaces and politicians get first priority!) But let’s all be proud and drink some Guinness because we now have the oldest, shortest man on Earth and two adventurers have won an award for being the greatest adventurers of the year. We can learn a thing or two from Sherpa and Sunuwar. Yes, we don’t need a budget to get things done; but unlike our government agencies, we do need coordination and team work, kya. Guffadi likes vyar vyar momos, safa tyampoos (need them earplugs) and loves to read about them netas and their nautanki nataks and blogs at guffadi.blogspot.com. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32400 Can something as simple as a checklist significantly improve your daily life? Can its use ensure better service delivery in sectors ranging from business, politics, health and education to engineering and transportation? Atul Gawande thinks so. In his latest book The Checklist Manifesto, the Harvard School of Medicine professor and staff writer for New Yorker (among the polymath’s many other vocations) makes a compelling case for the use of simple checklists for greater efficiency and enhanced safety in all aspects of life.[break] In his crisp account of checklists spanning just over 200 pages, Gawande narrates his experiences as a general surgeon at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. In his pioneering work there, he introduced checklists to drastically reduce infection rates among surgery patients, which are among the primary causes of post-operative mortality. Before the first incision, simple procedures like hand washing and properly cleaning up the surgery area, among the vital points included in Gawande’s pre-surgery checklist, were enough to cut down central-line related infections by 66 percent. Checklists are particularly useful in a complex field like medicine. To gauge the level of such complexity, consider this example from The Checklist Manifesto: “Over a one-year of office practice… physicians [at a private medical care provider] each evaluated an average of 250 different primary diseases and conditions. Their patients had more than nine hundred other active medical problems”. This, Gawande reminds us, “excludes the patients [these doctors see] in the hospital”. In such a complex scenario, Gawande argues, the challenge is not to get the ‘big things’ right, which thoroughbred professionals do in any case, but to minimize the small slips that in the final reckoning can make a huge difference. In the medical practice it is not just enough to diagnose a particular disease; while treating a patient a doctor must also be aware of his major allergies (if any), his past medical records, the medicines he might be taking, the side-effects of any treatment plan and a whole load of other things, overlooking any one of which could be the difference between life and death. But the author is not content on establishing the value of checklists in medicine. Thus when he quizzes structural engineers, Gawande discovers that famous builders also use checklists (and checklists of checklists) to make complex tasks more manageable. While working on a big housing project the Master Builder has to coordinate between as many as 16 different agencies (ranging from the brick-and-mortar layers, air-conditioning crew to the escalator installers). In such a complex setting, even a minor mistake can have major consequences. For instance, a few rivets missing from the supporting metal-structure of a colonnade can bring the whole structure down in the event of a severe storm. If the skyscraper under construction is in a major US city, the builders have to guard against not just inclement weather. In the aftermath of 9-11, there have been thorough revisions of the US building codes. One of new engineering concerns is preventing the cascading effect witnessed in the Twin Towers when their top floors collapsed after two jetliners crashed into them. And as the standards of infrastructure development has gone up, the margins for error have progressively climbed down. Flying an aircraft is another incredibly difficult task for a pilot without the support of the cabin crew, and yes, checklists. Without going through a set routine of pre-flight checks, it is easy for a pilot to miss a simple step. On October 30, 1935, Boeing’s Model 299 crashed in a test flight in Dayton, Ohio, killing two crew members on board. The investigation report revealed not a mechanical glitch but rather a “pilot error” as the cause of the fatal crash. The pilot had apparently forgotten to flip an important switch. Reporting on the incident, a local newspaper wrote at the time that the new Boeing model was “too much airplane for one man to fly”. So what did the Boeing do to prevent such slip ups in the future? Why, of course, conjure a pilot’s checklist! It isn’t hard to see how checklists can help us accomplish even day to day tasks with greater ease. In the hustle and bustle of modern-day living, it is easy to forget routine tasks like picking up the grocery from the supermarket or remembering to carry home your wife’s favorite sundae on the way, neither a portent of blissful conjugal life. Some might belief that they can dispense with the bothersome lists by ‘naturally’ remembering things, if not on their own than with the aid of the various mnemonic books now available in the market. Indeed. Every street corner you see a poster advertising the amazing effects of a memory course which will transform your life by revolutionizing the way you “perceive and memorize”. But amazing as some of these techniques are truly are, they are at best temporary solutions. Experience tells us (certainly this reviewer) that a simple checklist of important events, although it surely doesn’t sound as neat as simply remembering things unaided, is a very reliable method. One more thing. When I finished reading The Checklist Manifesto, I couldn’t help thinking: would Nepal have had a new constitution by now if the CA members had at the start of the drafting process kept a checklist of the things to do, or had they agreed on common minimum standards on the statute? Likely. More than one constitution expert now believes that the major flaw with the ongoing peace and constitution process was the failure of the major parties to set clear goalposts right off the bat. The Checklist Manifesto is an intellectual treat and should be a fun read for anyone into social psychology and myth-busting works of Malcolm Gladwell like Blink and The Outliers. Writers like Gladwell and Gawande deal in the unconventional: by making us aware of how we tend to completely miss (or misinterpret) the most vital pieces of information from any event while divining the ‘obviously rational’ (but wrong) messages. Pick it up. Even if you aren’t convinced by Gawande’s arguments, you will come away impressed by his almost surgical precision with words. The writer is the op-ed editor at Republica http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32399 If you are wondering what sets apart fabulous dressers from the just okay ones it’s the skill of accessorizing. Accessories are an inexpensive and easy way to update your look. But with the trends in accessories that are making waves right now, it is easy to fall into a trap of over-accessorizing.[break] Stick to a piece that stands out and keep your look balanced. Don’t go overboard and pile on bangles, rings, necklaces and scarves all together as this will only make you look like an over decorated Christmas tree. Coco Chanel said: “Always remove one thing before going out the door.” A lot of women over-accessorize with rings, necklaces, earrings and bracelets all heaped together at one time. It more often than not comes across as distracting and chaotic. Coco Chanel was right on this: less is more when it comes to accessories. What you choose to wear should define who you are. Stick to what you love and what you know for sure you can pull off. After all, style is all about confidence and feeling good in your skin. Dangly pair of earrings If you are petite or chubby around your face, then opt for longer earrings. Women with a round face should avoid wearing small earrings and hoops as this will make them appear fuller. If you have a tall frame then a large earring will add to your hugeness; so stick to smaller ones. Earrings are quite an eye catcher, so you can skip the necklace and ring. Pull you hair into a low bun or ponytail to show off your pair of ultra cool earrings.   Glittery ballerina shoes You don’t need a sequined dress to look festive. Glittery ballerina flats can glam up a drab wardrobe choice. Ballet flats will look great with any outfit but will look oodles better with a skirt or cropped pants. A perfect sized clutch It’s perfect for carrying your wallet and cell phone while raising your style quotient at the same time. If you are petite, don’t carry a too large clutch as that will look overwhelming. If you are on the larger side, don’t carry a tiny clutch as that will make you look even bigger. Stylish wristwatch A wristwatch does more than tell time. A large watch can be a good substitute for bangles or bracelets if you want to keep your style simple yet classy. The statement ring Big sparkly baubles get a lot of attention. Real or faux, a statement ring can add oomph to your attire and make you look stylish without an effort. Make sure you’ve had a manicure before slipping on these beauties. Skip heavy bangles and bracelets and stick with just the ring for a refined look. Pretty belts Waist cinching belts are no longer just meant to hold up your pants. Belts around your waist can create an illusion of a slimmer silhouette. Belts will make any ensemble look elegant. Skinny belts look great with jeans. Women who are slightly on the heavier side should however refrain from donning thin belts. If your tummy is your problem area, then you can wear a belt above your belly to draw attention away from your stomach. Jazzy pendants and neckpieces Neckpieces can jazz up a mundane outfit. Opt for a long piece if you are petite as that will make you look leaner and taller. Shorter ones will look good on tall women. A long chain with an interesting pendant will also grab attention and look chic at the same time. Vibrant scarves  Scarves can be worn with any outfit and can liven up a simple neckline. They add a pop of color to a dull wardrobe. Scarves in rich and vibrant shades can brighten up your look. Loop a light cotton scarf in an interesting pattern to make a simple t-shirt look stylish. Bold bangles Give your getup an instant pop of style with interesting bangles. Wear them with dresses, jeans and t-shirt and even formal wear. Wooden bangles look great with any outfit while metal ones exude an ethnic look. Women with big boned arms and wrists should shy away from chunky bangles and bracelets and stick to thinner and sleeker ones instead. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32144 On the occasion of the 91th birth anniversary of the man, the Mahendra Narayan Nidhi Trust is organizing a program on a broader theme-- “Loktantra Ra Shanti Ka Lagi Rajnitik Sahayatra”, on the 25th of February, 2012. Though the occasion is being used by the Trust to re-remember the contributions of Nidhiji to transforming Nepal’s social, political and cultural space, it nevertheless should be an occasion for the larger body of stakeholders to reflect upon the political struggles of Nidhiji and how he dedicated his entire life to giving a voice to the downtrodden and laying the foundations for a progressive society. [break] Writing about Nidhiji and trying to comprehend his views on non-violence and politics is not an easy task, particularly as there is a greater risk of being labeled a ‘subjective’ analyst who has a special relationship with the one he is writing about. I therefore face a difficulty in completely disassociating myself from my emotions as these are deeply attached to the late Nidhiji. My childhood memories are filled with the struggles that my father and his colleagues waged to establish democracy under Nidhiji’s leadership. Furthermore, it becomes rather difficult to write about the virtues of a political leader at a time when society have developed a severe trust deficit towards politics. Unfortunately, that same trust deficit has become legitimized by the politicians, who have adapted themselves to the errant ways of politics. Nevertheless, Nidhiji’s life and legacy stand out all the more at a time when politics has lost its definition. The objectives of politics have lost their legitimacy. Whenever I think of Nidhiji, I tend to become pre-occupied with a few questions-- Why does this figure continue to fascinate me? Was he a politician or a saint? How was it possible for Nidhiji to mobilize the masses for democracy? This article is dedicated to exploring these questions. Nidhiji’s was a politics based on morality. He was a politician who remained firm in his agenda and his methods, and defied established authority and the immoral practices of society-- but always peacefully. A lone man of morals consistently fighting against injustices despite all odds evokes the image of a ‘messiah’. Such messiah images tend to live in our cognition for a long period. That is exactly how it is with Nidhiji. It is quite unfortunate that a politics which has been severely criticized for not having any politicians of moral standing has failed to honor a man who lived to infuse politics with sanctity. Nidhiji’s legacy lies in his commitment toward the politics of non-violence. He was a politician who was shaped by the anti-colonial movements after the Second World War, and particularly the Gandhian way of fighting injustice. His refusal to abide by the then violent Congress philosophy stands testimony that he was a man who rose above party politics, and was firmly committed to the values he believed in. He never submitted to the ethos of violence for achieving political objectives. He always emphasized the relationship between means and ends in politics. He used to draw the analogy of the seed and the tree-- what we reap is what we sow. Nidhiji was not in favor of a society whose transformation takes place on the foundations of violence. He would rather have struggled and died without achieving democracy than submit himself to the demonic appeal of violence. He was undoubtedly a heroic figure such as we often find in our historic epics, standing up against injustice, for morality, and fighting the cause of the downtrodden. Nidhiji is one such leader, whose virtues have not been discussed at length. The failure of the Nepali state to recognize the causes in society at large that he served has become one of the reasons that have given rise to ethnic and communal politics. It would be quite interesting for the ruling class and the leaders of ethnic movements to know that Nidhiji was dead against ethnic politics. Commenting on an election held in Jaleswor, Mahottari, he wrote in his diary in 1956, “There is a tendency of voters backing the leaders of their ethnic groups and community. And this trend is detrimental for democracy (quoted as suggested by Mr. Nabendra Kumar Nidhi, the eldest son of Mahendra Narayan Nidhi)”. Politics is very likely to lose its objective of transforming the lives of commoners if viewed and practiced either from a communal or a narrow perspective. Democracy for him was not a matter of periodic elections alone. What mattered most to him was who governs? Nidhiji believed that it is not the state or governments that should govern people, but rather the interrelationships of individuals, groups and the community should shape society so that it governs itself. What mattered to him more was not the supremacy of a particular system of governance, but the freedom of individuals that could shape a perfect system for themselves. He was a follower of the process, but was aware that the process should follow the aspirations of common beings. Always attired in dhoti-kurta, with spectacles and lathi in hand, Nidhiji personified both simplicity and assertiveness-- simple like common folks and defiant against rulers. I often wonder whether he was a socialist. He was in favor of equality, but never practiced violence to achieve that. He was in favor of uplifting the lives of the poor, but also favored the right to private property. He loved the young and children, and always fought the excesses of elders. He consistently fought the failings of history, but never attempted to dismantle it completely. Moreover, why was it that Nidhiji was able to mobilize the masses for democracy? Nidhiji was neither a splendid orator nor a demagogue. His was rather a soft-spoken personality. Nidhiji’s life of simplicity, which was largely guided by Hindu religiosity blended with his passion for social reform, helped him gain the trust of the common man, something he retained till his death. Writing in Harijan in May 1939, Gandhiji says, “A born democrat is a born disciplinarian. Democracy comes naturally to him who is habituated normally to yield willing obedience to all laws, human or divine….Let those who are ambitious to serve democracy qualify themselves by satisfying first this acid test of democracy. Moreover, a democrat must be utterly selfless. He must think and dream not in terms of self or party but only of democracy. Only then does he acquire the right of civil disobedience.” Nidhiji could easily relate to the aspirations of common people as he never craved political power, but consistently fought for democracy and remained a staunch democrat throughout his life. At the Ninth General Convention of the Nepali Congress, Nidhiji stated, “People come and go, but ideological belief remains forever.” Nidhiji lived by his ideology. Today, Nepal is in a state of fragility. Its social, economic, political and cultural realms wait to be redefined in a newer context. Progressive politics has been caught in the excesses of demagoguery and manipulation. Politicians have dwarfed themselves to the extent where ideology has become a gimmick of the day--to be used for voter consumption, but not to be lived by. Nevertheless, the spirit of the democratic age survives through the dedicated lives of ardent democrats, and it will remain forever. Kaspar D. Naegele once remarked, “For every speechmaker who would selectively remind us about change, displaced populations, inner and outer migrations, shifts in the style of life, and requirements to keep up to date, there is another who tells us that fundamental human nature never changes.” Different people have the luxury of defining what different fundamental nature they want to live with. As a politician, Nidhiji lived his entire life by his commitment to democracy. As a social reformer, he kept fighting against the structures of society that perpetuated injustice. As a spiritualist, he always followed the path of truth. As a fighter of peace, he never favored violence. As a humanist, he was always above communal and ethnic politics. Such was the fundamental nature that shaped Nidhiji’s life. Unlike Nidhiji, we common folks also have the luxury of defining and choosing what should constitute our fundamental nature or what fundamental characteristics should define us. The fate of society and nation largely depends upon what its members choose to live by. Nidhiji defined his way of life and lived by it. Should we also define how to live in the larger society? And it is our decision to live in a spirit of negotiation among varied communities that could help emancipate us from the national woes. However, the leaders of the political parties have a greater responsibility than common people. Almost all top leaders of the political parties are participating in Nidhiji’s anniversary function, to deliver forth on their understanding of who Nidhiji was and how he influenced politics and society. Nidhiji is synonymous with democracy, peace and collaborative politics. He redefined politics in relation to power. Can the politicians of the day even ponder doing likewise? Perhaps that could be the greatest tribute they can offer to Nidhiji. Sameer is the author of “Unfinished Journey: The Story of a Nation” http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32142 A smattering of people of different ages and nationalities sit behind desks equipped with headphones, electric outlets and microphones in the Council Chambers at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN). Last month, Murray Gell-Mann, the Nobel-winning physicist was to give a talk here but the organizers had underestimated the number of physicists who showed up.[break] The crowd was moved to a larger amphitheater across the hallway. But there aren’t that many people here today, and we aren’t here for a lecture or a conference on quantum theory. Cell phones are turned off and the lights go out. I put on my headphones. We’re here to watch a movie. Besides high-powered complicated scientific research, there are other activities that go on at CERN that keep people sane. On certain evenings, the Cine Club shows movies and this time it is Angels and Demons, based on Dan Brown’s novel. What better place to watch the movie than the location where the movie begins, the lab where antimatter is produced? Not to confuse this article with a review of the movie. Since its 2009 release, many reviews have already been written on Angels and Demons. This is not meant to devalue the entertainment factor of the movie, either. Angels and Demons quite successfully stays even a skeptical audience’s attention with its ticking clock and imminent sense of danger. This is not a rebuttal of the misleading ideas that the movie evokes, CERN has an FAQ page for that. It is more a meandering of thoughts between the glamour of science that Hollywood produces and what actually exists in these otherwise drab hallways, badly-lit offices and architecturally unimpressive buildings. The difference between the real and the projected. The idea that fantastic props need to be in place in order to do fantastic things. There are many people here at CERN. Mostly physicists, technicians, and engineers. There are many visitors. There are many students. There are many visiting students. “A group of visiting students requested Angels and Demons to be screened, after a discussion on antimatter,” said the Cine Club’s organizer after the movie ended. On weekday afternoons, the CERN restaurants are crowded with touring students, engineers, scientists, professors, and their families. The babble of language is a representation of almost all the countries in the world, a small microcosm. But I have yet to see a physicist running around in a white lab coat like Vittoria Vetra does. I have yet to see them rushing about looking like they’re working on important things. Most of the scientists inhabit rather modest-looking offices, usually sharing space with a few other colleagues. Some of them prefer to work in the small library (open 24/7), which houses only a handful of fiction books, seven of which are copies of Angels and Demons. Quite frequently, Nobel laureates wander the hallways looking rather lost or sitting at a table in the cafeteria with a coffee cup. CERN’s website acknowledges that the World Wide Web was invented here but unlike the Universe of Particles exhibition where Tim Berners-Lee’s proposal paper is housed in a large representation of proton under neon lights and effects that merit sci-fi films, his office was located in one of the narrow, rather badly-lit hallways. There’s a plaque punctuating the corridor to commemorate the birth of the WWW, a phenomenon that changed the way we live today. Opposite the plaque is a door plastered with comic strips and further down, a large poster of Homer Simpson saying “D’oh” and a rather modest sign stating the birth of The One programming language. If you wander through hallways of CERN, most doors have comic strips on them and even the exit signs that lead from the Visitor’s Center to the main buildings are cartoons. On weekends, there’ll be people working in their offices, lights streaming out of doorways into dim corridors. But that doesn’t mean that all CERN people do is work. In the restaurant, the brightly-lit spaces are inhabited by gamers. On any given time of day, even while Europe is having its coldest winter, there’ll be someone cycling or running on the roads that have been named Route Einstein, Route Babbage, or Route Feynman. There are interesting talks and lectures and colloquiums all year round. And there are movie screenings. Where is all this meandering leading to? After the movie is over and the audience has left, I wander through the hallways of CERN, looking for light switches so I can find my way to the exit. Tom Hanks’ rather flat performance and the rather flat aftertaste of the mediocre movie script still play in my head. With all its flashy illustrations, Hollywood and the media often miss out on something that has struck me as most fantastic about this place. It is not the gigantic experiments and the many computer firms, the powerful accelerators and mind-boggling theories, it is not the Nobel laureates who grace the hallways. It is not their search for the understanding of the fundamental laws of nature. It is the nature of collaboration, the manner in which scientists and professionals from all over the world have come together to question, criticize, experiment, verify and continue working with each other on their often rather vague quests. WHAT IS CERN CERN stands for the French Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire, or European Council for Nuclear Research. It started as a provisional body in 1952 with the mandate of establishing a world-class fundamental physics research organization in Europe. Back then, pure physics research concentrated on understanding the inside of the atom, hence ‘nuclear.’ In 1954, the Council was dissolved and a new organization was formed with the title European Organization for Nuclear Research. However, it kept its name CERN. Today, CERN’s main area of research is particle physics, the study of the fundamental constituents of matter and the forces acting between them. The lab houses some of the most powerful particle accelerators and detectors. It has become one of the world’s largest and most respected centers for scientific research. The quest here is to find the most basic constituents of matter and study what happens when such particles collide in order to understand the laws of Nature. The CERN lab houses lies on the Franco-Swiss border and has 20 European member states. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32143 Death, even if it’s a mortality morph or physical disappearance, doesn’t totally destroy: it, in fact, and rather always, resurrects a few things – and memories being a most potent ingredient of them all. I had a total recall of these reckonings when I saw the obituary notices in the Nagarilk Daily of Saturday, February 18, 2012 (Falgun 06, 2068 of the Nepali Year).[break] Three 13th-day respects were paid to the late Kazi Mohan Bikram Thapa (MBT), and the photographs of the deceased confirmed that it was the same landlord whose apartment my family and I had rented at Char Burja of Kamal Pokhari from the late 1960s to 1974. MBT recently passed away at the age of 87 years. Trivial thoughts allow me to calculate that he was born in 1924; he was 10 years old in the Great Tremors of 1934; and he was underage to go to WWII. His obituaries stated that he was a native of Khanyakharka in Sindhuli and contributed to Nepal as a foremost forest expert, a pioneer in science education, and gave much of his own to social works, and so on. He was lately a banker and a major shareholder in such a financial institution. What we heard in those days was that he was the first gazetted Chief Conservator of Forests in His Majesty’s Government of Nepal. But when the then system’s sycophants and suckers reportedly manipulated the files and affairs of his department, MBT said, “Take this job and shove it,” and promptly resigned his powerful post without ado. It was in the later aftermath of this decision, and during his days of quietly minding his own business, that we became one family of other tenants in his four-storey house. I believe MBT lived with his second family and had two boys and two girls in this new nest. Altogether, he had four houses of various descriptions, and the back had a spread of some sixteen ropanis of farmland where he grew vegetables. He rode a Honda motorcycle for his outings while his Kazini managed the broods and the house. They were the quietest and a most unassuming couple one could imagine. In our neighborhoods of Kamal Pokhari, there were three Chhetri Thapa families with distinct middle clan names. Our own landlord was a Bikram Thapa. Beyond to the south was the palatial address of Nar Pratap Thapa whose Pratap family shrine was called the Char Burja because of the four naga-s guarding the bronze-plated temple on the four cardinal sides. He had long ago perished in the DC3 air crash at Dhorpatan when he was Nepal’s envoy to New Delhi. On the far side across the road lived the Shumsher Thapas, whose prominent member is the poet and lyricist Ratna Shumsher Thapa who still lives in the clan’s huge mansion. All the older Chhetri Thapas of Kamal Pokhari were men of means, and their descendents still enjoy the privileges and prestige of their family lines. The Bahadur, Jung and other Thapas lived in Dilli Bazaar, Baneshwor and elsewhere. In the city of arrival called Kathmandu, I lived in ten locations, beginning with Fasikeb near Ranjana Cinema Hall, then on the incline of Dilli Bazaar; then our bachelor batch moved to Chika Mugal and Pode Tole, right through the hashish-high Hippie enclaves of Freak Street at Jhhochhen. Then we relocated ourselves to Chhetrapati, which had another community of Flower Children on the other side called Chaksibari. It was in the Chhetrapati flat I got married to Ranjana. I bade goodbye to my fellow habitués, and Ranjana and I moved to a house at Kuriya Gaon of Thapathali. Our last rented shelter was at Char Burja of Kamal Pokhari before we moved in 1974 to our own shack-in-the-making at Kupondole where we have been since. In Kupondole itself, while building our own shed, we lived in two flats before moving to my own tenth abode, my final permanent address, this time in Patan. Now I live in Ranjanako Ghar. That should be the end of the story, which, after all, took place nearly four decades ago. What of that, indeed! But a few Dan Browns seem to be lurking in and around the perimeters of this narrative. Therefore, I thought of raising a few pointers to solve the jigsaws in the puzzle. It’s bound to be futile, I’m convinced of it; but for goodness sake, here are the yarns: Many years later, in the mid-1990s as a matter of fact, when I was well-entrenched in Kupondole, I happened to write in Nepali a long piece called “Deraharuko Katha” (Tales of Rented Houses) detailing the same picaresque I mentioned above. Each one of the house-hunting, flat-finding and living in it in the various ten localities of Kathmandu and Patan is described in my journal. This serial was published in “Garima,” the monthly magazine of Sajha Prakashan. It so happened that the late Mr. Janak Lal Sharma (JLS) happened to read my fables of the flats I lived in. Studious and writerly as he was, JLS promptly wrote a rejoinder in “Madhuparka” with his own speculations on MBT. Somewhere in my series, I had mentioned the Prajapatis of Jana Bahal of Kathmandu as my “sasurali,” as Ranjana came from a particular Bhaktapur family living at Bheda Sing. Attaching my Prajapati connection and dealing only with my “dera” years at Kamal Pokhari, JLS launched his reportage on MBT. His stories go this way: Bal Bahadur Prajapati (BBP) was a rich and wealthy man of Bhaktapur, with some 900 ropanis of land surrounding his homestead alone, with lands and properties at Lahan and other parts of the Tarai. His father had received the honorary title of Kaptan (Captain) from the then ruling Shree Tiin Maharaj, the Rana Prime Minister. The father one day took BBP to the Premier for darshan, and the son was also forthwith given the honorary rank of Laptan (Lieutenant) because of his robust physique and alert mind. These Prajapatis were in the good books of the ruling Rana Durbar. Certain landed gentry among the Prajapatis of Bhaktapur, Thimi, Sano Thimi, Nagadesh and Bode were pious-minded, in that they emphasized on the spiritual aspects of Hinduism, and so promoted the devotional disciplines of meditation, bhajan and deep study of the Hindu scriptures and epics, such as the Veda, Vedanta, Upanishad and other religious works. BBP himself had plans to establish a guthi on his land, and with his own personal means he wanted to establish a forum for the worship of Lord Ram, study of Ramayan and historical enquiries into Ayoddhya. For these “adhyatmik” purposes, he had to petition the absolute Rana Prime Minister for permission to fulfill his dreams of dharma. It’s worth surmising in hindsight that the Thakuri Chhetri Ranas, Shahs and their many ruling clans being bloodthirsty Tantrik Hindus practicing animal and fowl sacrifice, it was easy to expect BBP’s petition trashed in the wastepaper basket of the Rana Prime Minister’s office, or be grilled in person for his daring to display such “hurmat,” eh? The Ranas frowned upon education, dissemination of information, discourses for enlightenment, and scholastic curiosities among the “raiti.” But JLS rather points to BBP’s petition itself; that the concluding lines of which were far from being polite, as is the custom in such pleading. Instead of tail-ending his “darkhwast” with “Sarkarko jo hukum, jo adesh!” and other prayerful humbleness from a “agyakari praja,” he reportedly ended his “nibedan” with something like, “If you grant me my wishes – great, fine! If you reject my petition, I don’t give a shit, either.” Or something to that dreadful effect! This kind of “bit marne” language was coarse, much more so when the addressee was no less than the absolute despot Rana Prime Minister of the day. According to JLS, the Rana Durbar was “angry” at the letter, and a “purji” was promptly issued. Lieutenant BBP eluded the arrest warrant and made himself scarce by slipping off to the safe haven of his second home in Nepal – Lahan. About this, some more later. Though feudal, rich and wealthy in every way conceivable even during those arbitrary times, BBP was spiritual at heart and was in the habit of donning saffron and sadhu garbs and visited the holy places of India. He was also active in the Free India Movement and knew Rajendra Prasad, JP Narayan and other leaders on first-name basis. He was known as Himali Baba, Nepali Baba and Pahari Baba among the throngs of the Indian freedom fighters and holy men and was jailed along with them for their Quit India agitations. In one instance, according to JLS, a certain Mohan Bikram Thapa approached Pahari Baba somewhere in India for a seat in one famed forestry institute. He had arrived at a time when all the seats had been allocated for the next academic terms. So Nepali Baba wrote to Rajendra Prasad, the future first President of the Republic of India and himself a former educationist, requesting him to oblige him with the favor. “Since he’s a hillbilly Nepali, he can study even by sitting on the classroom floor,” concluded the Himali Baba to Rajendra Babu in his request letter. Thus the Nepali young man was able to study forestry in India and later became a ranger in Nepal. The rest is history. “So it must be the very Mohan Bikram Thapa, Peter wrote about as his Kamal Pokhari landlord in his article,” suggested JLS and left it at that and narrated other interesting facts. He deftly connected my marital relations to one Prajapati clan and equated it with that of a very notable Prajapati, an aristocrat-like Bhaktapurian in his own rights. It was very clever indeed of JLS to do what he did. On my part, though assuming that MBT read JLS’s reminiscences in Madhuparka, I thought nothing of verifying the facts with him. After all, some twenty years had elapsed since I had left Kamal Pokhari, and I simply didn’t bother to do anything about it. But I phoned JLS one evening to thank him for unraveling those interesting historical nuggets. He, however, went ad lib on other things on the phone. Only later I knew that his hearing had deteriorated, and our conversation served no intended purpose. He passed away some years ago. Laptan BBP, the Himali, Nepali and Pahari Baba and India’s Freedom Fighter, had turned anti-Rana and remained in his protected estate in Lahan. In case Rana “tilanga” and “kampu” approached to apprehend him and drag him to Kathmandu, he could hop over to India in a jiffy. He was safe in his province of which he was the lord and master. One day, according to JLS, BBP’s durbar and Lahan town saw Jaya Prakash Narayan (JPN) and his followers fleeing the British in India. They crossed the borders and entered the settlement of Lahan. BBP received JPN and his entourage, sheltered and fed them and kept them in comfort. Meanwhile, the British threateningly asked Kathmandu to have the Indian renegades extradited to India – or else! However, JLS says in his story that even the despotic Ranas had their own credenda, one of which was to weigh between “maran” (death, incarceration, arrest) and “sharan” (sanctuary, asylum). They chose to exercise the latter. So the Kathmandu Durbar had no intention of obliging the Angrej Bahadurs, and instead had JP and his freedom fighters interned at the Lahan jail as guests of Nepal. On his part, BBP, as the absolute laird of Lahan, mobilized the entire population of the local Mushar (rodent hunters) laborers, those fantastic demolition experts of the Tarai, to raze the prison to its very foundation. Thus were JP and his faithful freed and they vamoosed into the northern green mansions of the nearby Churia Range. Retracing this story to MBT as my landlord at Kamal Pokhari, some uncanny mysteries remain to this day. Did MBT know and consider, as JLS seemed to hint at in his story, my Prajapati connection through my wife Ranjana? Was that why he was always reluctant to raise our house rent? We began living in his flat, paying Rs 250 a month. Months passed, and occasionally Ranjana and I calculated that a five-room apartment like the one we lived in was now worth Rs 500, then Rs 750 after sometime, and then Rs 1,000 in the early ’70s, and so on. We were in moral dilemmas many times. Was it a hint to vacate the house, judging by the Thapas’ cool indifference? So, as we decided one day, we requested MBT and his kind wife to increase our rent. “Well, we haven’t thought about it, actually,” Mr. MBT shouted from the other side of the compound. “So do as you please, and that’s it, hai?” For a man of very few words, he had spoken volumes that day. We ourselves raised our apartment rents twice after that. Was there a return of favor on MBT’s part to one Prajapati because another Prajapati had been instrumental in determining his professional future? In his story, JLS is merely diplomatic in his suggestiveness or suggestive in his diplomacy as raconteur. I didn’t ask MBT, either, after my and JLS’s stories were published in Garima and Madhuparka. Nor did MBT ever reveal his true intentions from behind his quintessential quietude. Now he is also gone! There is only one way out: The answer must be blowing in the wind. But the wind cannot read, nor speak, or tell. pjkarthak@gmail.com http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32140 Among Nepalis who can afford to dine out on daal-bhaat in New York, Thakali Kitchen on Jackson Heights is a favorite haunt. Hemmed in by a kebab house on one side and a health and beauty aid discount store on the other, the eatery is unremarkable in a crowded street that flaunts Bengali alphabets on signboards and caters mostly to South Asian shoppers looking for silk sarees, 24-carat gold jewelry, bhajan music, Bollywood DVDs and authentic spices—not necessarily in that order—from ‘back home.’[break] A whitened portion on the nameplate above the restaurant’s main entrance catches attention. An old patron of the place explains the blank space. The joint once advertised itself as specializing in “Nepalese, Indian & Tibetan Cuisine.” The second adjective has since been erased. The comma after the first word remains. The picture is nearly one year old, but its message is still relevant. The error may have been symptomatic of billboard English. However, like poetic licenses, lapses of grammar can also be interpreted as expressions of agitated minds. Apparently, the Nepali diasporas—the plural form of the term attempts to capture diversities within seemingly homogeneous community—are as much in ferment as their compatriots back home. On the other end of the world, some Nepali restaurants in Tokyo and Osaka often proclaim that they specialize in Naan and Momo. Naan is the Persian term for flatbread and it spread out towards South Asia through Afghanistan. Momos have been known in places like Ladakh, Kathmandu, Gangtok, Darjeeling, and Thimpu for long. But connoisseurs of these distinctive dumplings south of the Himalaya were few and far between. That changed with the flight of Dalai Lama from Lhasa in 1959 to the land where Lord Buddha had attained nirvana. Fearful of Chinese prosecution, Tibetan refugees followed their spiritual master to South Asia in hordes. Some of them settled down in Kathmandu where Momos became a popular street food. Naans have failed to find that honor, but Nepalis now consider Momos as their very own. Among customers of Nepali restaurants all over the world, Momos are all-time favorites. Attachment to familiar fares is common to all kinds of diasporas. Immigrants take traditional recipes with them wherever they go. Refugees have to initially make do with whatever they can get, but they begin to improvise customary dishes once life in host countries becomes a bit predictable. Guest workers in alien lands find solace in recognizable flavors. The comfortable expatriate may explore exotic dishes and dine out on Continental cuisine to impress their colleagues, but even they drool over childhood foods in the privacy of their homes. For the overseas ethnic communities, feasting on familiar dishes is the favored way of socializing. Among those forced to live away from their ancestral homes, communities of exiles are most finicky about their food choices: They refuse to carry the baggage of their past around but are ready to jump at the first opportunity of claiming a culinary heritage. Assured migrants Going abroad in search of work is not new to Nepal. The tradition of seasonal migration from mountains to the plains, especially during winter but sometimes also in the spring, for work and trade is as old as the Nepali hills. After the Anglo-Gorkha war (1814–1816) ended in the surrender of the latter, many warriors of the vanquished army turned into soldiers of fortune. One of them was Bal Bhadra Kunwar who deserted the defeated army and joined Maharaja Ranjit Singh in raising a force of Gorkhali mercenaries for the expansion and protection of the short-lived Sikh Empire (1799-1849) with its capital in Lahore. Professional fighters from the hills had served various Hindu potentates of the Ganga-Brahmaputra plains for long, but Captain Kunwar of the Nalapani legend was perhaps the first to raise entire regiments of Gorkhali mercenaries as a general in the Sikh army. Jang Bahadur Kunwar would later pay back the dues to the employer of Gorkhali soldiers by sheltering and then interceding on behalf of the dowager Maharani Jind Kaur with the British when the Sikh Empire began to disintegrate. The Lahure tradition was thus born to fight the forces of East India Company. For nearly two centuries now, they have been serving to advance British interests all over the world with even more distinction. Migrant workers and Lahure warriors never had any confusion about the focus of their loyalty. The body of a Lahure—the term has now come to include combative duties as well other menial activities—belongs to whichever government or enterprise pays their wages. Their mind may be slightly divided between planning for a future at home or exploration of more attractive avenues abroad. The heart and soul, however, remain firmly rooted in the soil of their ancestral land. This could be the reason remittances continued to sustain Nepal’s economy even during the worst years of armed conflict. After subsistence agriculture, employment abroad is reported to have become the second largest contributor to Nepal’s GDP, bringing in almost four billion dollars annually into a country longing for every penny of foreign currency just to pay for continuously ballooning petroleum import bills. Guest workers in foreign lands may invite Nepali artistes or politicos once in a while for diversion, but they are too occupied in making a living to worry about larger solidarities. Identity for most menial workers begins with the names of their family, caste, ethnicity, community, village, or district and end in an affirmation of loyalty to the official seal over their passports. Mostly hailing from exploited castes, classes and communities, democracy at home matters to them even more than it does to expatriates and exiles. Politics of migrant workers often mirror realities on the ground in their home constituencies. Self-assurance is the shield that protects guest workers from relentless onslaught of globalization. Paradoxically, dislocation induces completely different sets of responses among comfortable expatriates and commercialized exiles. Anxious exiles Benedict Anderson, the China-born and British-educated half-Irish professor of international relations in the United States of America is better known for propounding the theory of nation as a creation of imagination. Earlier scholars, media-theorist Marshall McLuhan for example, had long intuited that nation-state was a manufactured concept of print capitalism. Prof. Anderson presented his observations in such a persuasive manner that his eponymous book became a handbook of understanding “Imagined Communities.” His latest contribution deals with predilections of exile, which he terms “long-distance nationalism.” The bug to explore the world is impossible to resist at a certain age, and the only way for the poor of doing so is to go abroad in search of work. Guest workers begin their journey with the conviction of returning. The country of origin may be whacked by extremism, militarism, civil war or ethnic strife, but the idea of abandoning home doesn’t appeal to everyone. However, people with fungible loyalties are capable of being at home wherever they are. Prior to globalization, ‘post-national’ ethos was considered a desirable attribute of the social elite. The idea of cosmopolitanism implied that a person was free from nationalistic fervors or communal prejudices. Commercialization of social relationships in the wake of globalization has left a large section of exiles at the mercy of market forces. As it gets harder to settle and assimilate into the societies of host lands, exiles look towards homeland for fulfillment, which Anderson thinks may have “...menacing portent for the future.” In a much-quoted paragraph, the theorist of nationalism propounds: “First of all, it is a product of capitalism’s remorseless, accelerating transformation of all human societies. Second, it creates a serious politics that is at the same time radically unaccountable. The participant rarely pays taxes in the country in which he does his politics; he is not answerable to its judicial system; he probably does not cast even an absentee ballot in its elections because he is a citizen of a different place; he need not fear prison, torture or death, nor need his immediate family. But, well and safely positioned in the First World, he can send money and guns, circulate propaganda, and build intercontinental computer circuits, all of which can have incalculable consequences in zones of their ultimate destinations.” Pointing towards the main impulse that turns exiles into ardent nationalists, Anderson argues: “That same metropole that marginalizes and stigmatizes him simultaneously enables him to play, in a flash, on the other side of the planet, national heroes.” Perhaps a sense of guilt, too, is partly responsible for the bellicosity of expatriates towards those who they feel have made a mess of the country they left behind. Exile is an option, not compulsion. Alibis have to be manufactured to justify an escapist choice made in the past. Response expresses itself in belligerence. Umpteen email groups—almost all of them based in the First World countries—lament the loss of peace and amity that had once existed in the country that they deserted and keep remitting an unceasing flow of sanctimonious sermons. Highly educated individuals, people who should know the nitty-gritty of a functioning democracy and shenanigans of politicos better, disparage inclusion, deride politics of dignity and demonize federalism. Reparatory discrimination is anathema to those who are unlikely to come back and strengthen meritocracy on home ground. Patronizing tone and condescension waft from their conversation like vapor from ‘holy’ cow dung. “Why can’t all Janjatis be like good Gurungs of Kaski and Lamjung? Or why don’t all Madheshis adopt food, dress, language and lifestyle of Pahadis just as most Tharus have done, despite suffering worse humiliations at the hands of their tormentors?” Such questions are difficult enough to explain to Resident Non-Nepalis (RNNs) of Planet Exclusive in Kathmandu. For Non-Resident Nepalis (NRNs) sitting in London, New York, Paris or Moscow, even the attempt of an answer appears blasphemous. Fear and loathing of India and Indians—social, cultural and economic superiors of exiled Nepalis in their host lands—often translates into animosity towards Madheshis who, to quote an old and caustic hate mail, “Look like Indians, talk like Indians, but pretend to be Us!” Erasure of the ‘offensive’ term from the signboard of a New York eatery should not be a cause of worry in Kathmandu. It may have been an offhand business decision. After all, loss avoidance is a stronger urge than profit maximization: It is better to keep the loyalty of chauvinistic customers intact than attempt to lure more discerning cosmopolitan crowd. Long-distance nationalism is still in an embryonic stage in Nepal. The risks here are higher merely because it would not take much to destabilize a diverse country mired in xenophobia. Lal contributes to The Week with his biweekly column Reflections. He is one of the widely read political analysts in Nepal. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32141 A unique custom that must be a ‘Nepali’ thing, like so many other ‘Nepali’ things, such as looking up at the sky when one hears an airplane pass overhead, requires of those whom you invite over at your place for dinner to arrive fashionably and irritably – assuming you’re the host – late, drink from the bottles you’ve carefully stored away for special occasions, and leave well past midnight after gobbling up their dinner after much coercion, usually from the mother of the host who’s spent most part of her day in the kitchen cooking the grand meal. Usually, dinner at my place is done in a cultured way. I invite you at a normal hour, usually at 7. [break] You arrive at a cultured hour; have a drink or two from a bottle which is already open and available. Then, before long, my wife will insist we have dinner whilst the food is still warm. Of course, you’re allowed to continue drinking, preferably in small quantities, during the dinner. Conversation ranging from politics to the latest development in cooking ‘masala’ continues as the level in the bottle gets lower. This, in my rather limited view, is a good dinner. Of course, every now and then, some ‘mutual’ friend will somehow make his way into my house, usually accompanied by a known friend, and go on to finish an entire bottle of fine whiskey without so much as to even pronouncing my name correctly once during the entire session. Not to forget gobbling down the cheese and the roasted nuts which I always keep at an arm’s length and is oh so dear to me. The only time this type of behavior is acceptable is when we get an entire goat weighing about 20 kgs for the family during Dashain. Now, my family consists of principally two meat eaters since my mother is a vegetarian and my wife won’t eat the goat because she feels sorry for him. Then I’m thankful for the people and the ‘mutual’ friends who walk into my house. Grateful because by the time we manage to stuff the entire goat into the refrigerator, we’re usually running out of space already. Although I somehow always secretly wish that they would leave the bottles alone. And I’m sure if you’re one of those who slaughter goats during Dashain and stock up on the bottles to avail of the festival discounts, you wish they would leave the bottles alone. Never mind the goat. In the meantime, get some stacked in your bar too. You can’t possibly go wrong with a few bottles stacked in your bar. Eventually, you’ll find that your precious bottles aren’t for everyone who walks through the door. It’s certainly not for those who ask for a whiskey and Coke with a lot of ice, either. These bottles I believe are for immoderation, for camaraderie, and reserved for conversations with close friends that last well beyond midnight. After all, a man’s got to believe in something at the end of  the day. And I believe I’ll have another plate of ‘bhutun’ and a drink because sometimes too much of goat meat and whiskey is barely enough. The writer is a banker by profession. He enjoys single malts and other good things in life. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32139 “In the Third World countries, the formulations of laws are deliberately obstructed because the existence of laws means one cannot do as one pleases.” A journalist with the state news agency Rastriya Samachar Samiti (RSS) over two decades, Krishna Prasad Sigdyal has penned a book covering some of the things that he could not have written about in those days. [break] As a reporter covering the courts of justice at a time in Nepal when the judiciary hardly ever figured in the news and RSS had no designated reporters on the legal beat, he took a particular interest in some of the much talked-about cases of the day, both as a student of law and out of a sense of their historical importance.  Thanks to his initiative, a fairly good picture of the cases in question can now be had from the old news bulletins preserved in RSS archives. The author ran some personal risks in reporting the cases. The book can be looked upon as one of the rare spin-offs from RSS, which enjoys the status of a semi-official voice of the government. In the book, Sigdyal has revisited four cases at some length. Implicated in the cases were people very much in the public eye. Also included in this work is an ample appendix of reports and write-ups by the author himself and by others concerning the judiciary, corruption and related matters that have appeared in the print media. According to constitutional expert Purna Man Shakya, Sigdyal has done a sterling job of bringing out interesting aspects of the cases dealt with, aspects that you would not find in the relevant court files. The cases revisited had political dimensions and raised legal issues, including those that Sigdyal was not able to bring up as a working journalist at the time. These would be of interest to students of law and journalists today, and to those members of the general public who are old enough to remember how the cases unfolded in newspaper reports, such as they were, and in the rumor mills. The carpet over-invoicing case (Karpet Kanda), which caused a lot of controversy during the heyday of the Panchayat era, gets pride of place in the book. Those dragged into controversy over this scandal were 91 individuals, including such public figures as the late Dr Harka Gurung, the then governor of Nepal Rastra Bank Kul Shekhar Sharma, and former finance minister and diplomat Dr Bhesh Bahadur Thapa, not to mention Dr Tulsi Giri who was then prime minister. Looked upon by some as the single most important case handled by the Commission for Investigation of Abuse of Authority, which in turn was seen as an entity that operated contrary to the principles of natural justice, political analysts often regard the carpet over-invoicing scandal as the last straw that broke the camel’s back and put the Panchayat system firmly on the path of its demise. Other prominent cases revisited concern a colorful former prime minister who was hauled up for contempt of court after accusing the chief justice of bribery, a food grains export scam in which a serving top bureaucrat was arrested, put behind bars and prosecuted in the first such incident in Nepal, and a showdown between a senior member of the bench and a top cop. The author has done a detailed overview of the cases, bringing together the relevant documents, facts and train of events. But the book is more than just a documentation of legal notoriety. It is also an attempt to put things in the context of our legal system, thereby throwing light on the development of that system and on its strengths and failings. Going into a fairly detailed recounting of the pleadings for and against in the four cases, the author provides us an idea of judicial standards in this country. The treatment of the judiciary as a whole is matter of fact, which gives it a negative feel. But it was apparently not meant to be negative. Right at the outset, Sigdyal observes that while Nepal may have lagged behind in the development of the executive and legislative branches of government, it has been near the vanguard when it comes to the development of the judiciary. He points out that documentation and codification have been salient features of Nepal’s legal system right from its beginnings. The first part of the book goes into discussions of law and justice, Supreme Court activism, the legal profession and the judicial administration, to facilitate a better understanding and appreciation of the cases themselves. The reader will find in these pages short but interesting portraits of the legal luminaries of the day, including the Supreme Court justices. The author knew most of the chief justices from the Panchayat era onwards, either personally or in occupational capacity. He had gone out of his way to familiarize himself with them. His observations about them would constitute useful materials for practitioners and students of law in Nepal. The author rounds out his book with a list of key office bearers of the bench and bar, past and present. An index of names and places completes the tome. Also to be found herein are some descriptions of how the royal palace, the center of all powers during the Panchayat, went about exercising its influence on the handling of the four cases, and of how the judges, too, came under its sway. It would be relevant to cite at this point a brief speech by the then attorney general, in which he pointedly said, among other things, that “corruption comes from above.” On a more contemporary note, the author weighs in against the malaise of corruption which is still rife in our public life. Though not directly connected with the main thrust of the book, this is an earnest attempt to help clean out the Augean stables, as it were. And so he goes into some detail about the prosecution of corruption cases against some former government ministers and former police chiefs in assorted scams whose trails have gone cold under political pressure or through statute of  limitations. As a concerned citizen, Krishna Prasad Sigdyal speaks of the long road that lies ahead if we are to preserve intact the integrity of this country that has been handed down to us by our forebears. This calls for, among other things, the fashioning of laws that cannot be bent to anyone’s will. He makes the sober observation that in the Third World countries, formulation of law is deliberately obstructed because the existence of laws means one cannot do as one pleases. The author wishes this book, the latest from his pen, to be looked upon as a novel exercise in the literature of law in Nepal. It is certainly that, inspired as it is in part by a wish to see the decisions of the Supreme Court and the appellate courts brought before the lay public in simple, layman’s language. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32138 This year, the government forgot to celebrate Democracy Day. Dr. Saheb doesn’t think much about the Ranas. Our Comrades seem to have a beef with the Shahs, and all the Valley residents who got their ghar-naksa passed by corrupt Municipality wallahs. We still have Jungay Dai and his horse staring at us in Tundikhel. Maybe it would be better if we had the new Emperor’s statue, hagi? Instead of a horse, we can have him on top of a SUV.[break] We have Juddha Dai’s bhauju welcoming us at our national zoo. Maybe we should replace it with a bust of our first lady, ki kaso? Instead of being decked in pearls and what not, we can have a bicycle by her side. She used to be one hell of a biker when she was teaching our engineering students back in the old days, kya! We still have Bir Hospital. How about ‘Bir Sahid’ Hospital instead? And what about Tri-Chandra College? Yes, let’s get rid of the Shah-Rana combo platter. How about Mohan Baidya College? Maybe that would at least pacify our radical Rambo for some time. The folks who got hanged by the Ranas are the real martyrs. I don’t think their families received any financial compensation after the ruling Ranas decided to shift to India. We celebrate Democracy Day because we got rid of the 100+ years of looting, booting and shooting by the Shree Tins. But then we let the Shree Paanchs have some fun for some time, didn’t we? Now we have thousands of little princes, enjoying the ride. If you’re a political cadre, then you don’t have to buy a life insurance. When your time’s up, you just have to be lucky enough to be in jail or in the middle of a highway. Then you’ll be declared a martyr and your loved ones will get a million Rupees from the state. When it reaches your loved ones, it might be a paltry thousand because everybody from the central to the district to the local levels will try to get a cut of the dough. Dr. Saheb believes that the real democracy came only after our CA wallahs decided to declare our country a republic. Well, so far, it’s been more of a ‘rip-off-the-public,’ hoina ra? We got rid of the Shree Tins so our Shree Panchs would have some fun. We got rid of the Shree Panchs and now our politicians are having all the fun. Maybe, we should all get together and take to the streets again to get rid of our Shree Aaths. We really need our Ama Samuhas to run our villages, cities and even the country. If we have grandmothers running the show, then they would probably tackle the cooking gas issue first rather than worry about the Valley’s roads. They would probably send all the men to dig them tunnels and we can finally get some water from Melamchi. It’s about time our grandmothers, mothers, and sisters stood up and beat the ghoos-khoris with their gaagris, panyus, laptops and iPhones pani. Our politicians are corrupt. We all know that and finally we have an incumbent minister guilty on corruption charges. Dili Bazaar Sadar Khor could be the new ‘hot’ spot to hang out if the CIAA speeds up its investigation and our justices can hand out the verdicts as fast as our traffic wallahs hand us them so-called chits. We now have three former ministers in Dilli Bazaar. I think they can now start a coaching class on how to be a neta to all the mundrey gundas and kidnappers holed up in the same prison. They could pay their fines from the tuition fees collected from their fellow prisoners, ni. The bonus class for the semester can be ‘We got caught but you don’t have to.’ Mr. Wagle can teach a class on ‘how not to transfer your ill-gotten moolah to your son’s name.’ Shyam Sundar Gupta can teach a class on ‘why you shouldn’t fund your son’s wedding by kidnapping a businessman’ and JP Gupta can teach a class or two on media hola ni. Or he can start a new newspaper from prison – ‘the convict’ or something. And let us thank our traffic police wallahs once again for trying to grab pedestrians from the Ratnaparak area as they try to sprint to the other side by dodging micros, bikes and what not. Yes, we have the overhead bridges but most of our folks would rather get a full frontal view of the incoming traffic than watch the traffic jam from them bridges, kya. So if you get caught jaywalking, you will be fined Rs 50 rey, and if you don’t have the dough, then you get to spend two hours with our men in blue. I think we can all make that two hours more productive if we all have our notes on ‘how to reform our police service’ handy. Guffadi likes vyar vyar momos, safa tyampoos (need them earplugs) and loves to read about them netas and their nautanki nataks and blogs at guffadi.blogspot.com. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32136 Sometimes you encounter the most interesting things in life and you’re just inspired to see things in a different light. And out of such encounters, to stumble upon a group of middle-aged women who are more exciting than the average teenager definitely qualifies as one.[break] Let me give you the play-by-play as to what happened. I’m currently out of town. So I’m staying in a hotel. And in this hotel, they, for some reason, only offer free Internet services in the lobby. In my desperate need for free Internet, being the Internet junkie that I am, I decided to head to the lobby despite the fact that it was late in the night. Sure, I was tired from a long day and was even more tired thinking of another long day ahead. But I let my whim get the best of me. Not the wisest decision I’ve made, but that’s still open to debate because I did strike upon inspiration in that little, tiny elevator. Going back to the actual story of what happened in the elevator now: I met those women-turned-teenagers. Or rather, that night, everybody over the age of forty seemed to be going back to being far from forty and more towards fourteen. These women appeared to be heading to some bar for a girls’ night out. They seemed ready and prepared to relax, and de-stress and have some serious fun. “Hush, there’s someone in the elevator; we don’t want to scare her,” a beautiful blonde woman who looked around forty-five-ish warned all her coterie of apparently youthful friends in a playful tone. This was followed by unanimous giggles among the women, the kind of giggles you usually hear from young teenage girls following innocent mischief. Throughout my elevator ride all the way from the thirty-second floor to the lobby, this bunch laughed and fooled around and made jokes. Not surprisingly, much of the sentences exchanged among them involved men and drinks and makeup. And amidst all this, there I was trying very hard to be immune to their lax and carefree vibe that was, I must admit, very admirable. As luck would have it, the elevator stopped on another floor somewhere in the middle, and as the door opened up, the sight of two middle-aged men appeared – one was carrying the other. I don’t know what that was all about, but it certainly inspired one of the ladies in the elevator to take a good long peek at the sight even if it meant holding the elevator door open for a couple of seconds. Now these men may be classified as sturdy and handsome for their age, I believe. It was not for nothing that the woman held the elevator just to catch another glimpse of the men. “Now those were some fine men,” one of the women exclaimed at the mention of which a grin escaped from my face. And being the lovely women they were, another one remarked, “Don’t mind us honey; at some point in life around your forties, you just go back to being eighteen again,” she said. Now, what a thing to think about! At some point in life, you go back to being eighteen again. How true (I guess)! I haven’t gone through the phase myself; so I can’t speak from experience. But I can assure you that I know enough people who are around their late forties for me to agree with the women in the elevator with my heart and soul. The stereotypical image of people with a job and family having to be serious and “boring” isn’t necessarily true (as with any other stereotypes). I mean, of course, they must be focused in what they do and in providing for their family. But when it comes to having fun, I know this generation doesn’t compromise. That’s why I claim that middle-aged people today are as vivacious, as jovial and as interesting as any of the younger generation people. They know how to have fun; they know how to be fun. This is why it’s little wonder I encounter many a people from this age group in laidback restaurants, or taking trips and vacations around the country and abroad, or taking salsa classes, or even trekking. And they do all this in style, too, keeping up with the latest trends and fashion statements and looking sharp as they go. Most of you might agree with me that the generation prior to us have really picked up on some key elements of “coolness” and have incorporated it into their lives to be able to blend in so well with our generation or other generations, creating a nice bridge between all things awkward. In the context to Nepal in particular, even if it’s a move from unnecessary conservatism towards a more liberal, yet grounded approach, this generation has, like I said, bridged the gap between generations wonderfully. Most of the middle-aged today have decent jobs, families, values, knowledge, and not to forget, a serious desire to have fun and enjoy life. Maybe all this is something that has already crossed your mind, or maybe all this is something that you need to think about. But whatever way, I hope you’ll agree with me in commending the generation prior to us! Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32134 After climbing hundreds of flights of stairs to the temple at the hilltop at Chobhar, one cannot wait to visit the statue of Anandadi Lokeshwor, also known as Adi Nath, the God of Death. The low-ceilinged door of the surrounding rest house takes us to the temple courtyard where visitors, instead of directly heading to the main temple, get drawn to the huge collection of kitchen utensils hung on the inner walls of the surrounding resting houses.[break] “Families of the deceased come to nail the utensils on the walls with the belief that they will need these items on the journey to their afterlife,” says Indra Man Shakya, the priest of the temple. The walls bear all kinds of utensils, like kitchen wares, puja materials, toiletries, farming tools, traditional weaving materials, musical instruments, and weapons. “But people nowadays have started nailing utensils in their own names as well as offerings to pray for something from the god. Some people also nail them themselves if they don’t have anyone to perform the ritual after their death.” Asha Kaji Shakya, an elderly local, shares his experience of nailing utensils in his younger days. “When people brought objects, we climbed to the roof of the temple and nailed the utensils there,” he says, pointing to the tools nailed on the upper walls of the temple. “But now that the number of people who want to nail the utensils for their deceased family member has increased, the walls of the temple aren’t enough. So they started nailing them to other walls of the rest house,” he adds. According to the temple priest, some ten families on the average come to nail the utensils in the name of their deceased every month. Shakya believes that people started nailing the utensils as Anandadi Lokeshwor is the one god who looks after us when we are alive and continues to do so even after our death. “So people want to please him for the welfare of their loved ones. And the number of people coming to nail utensils are increasing every year,” he says. He adds that in earlier years, people used to nail all the tools the deceased owned during his lifetime, pointing to such items as hammers, cloth weavers, sickles, spades and scissors. Culture expert Indra Mali believes that the hanging of the utensils started as many people in the old days were facing untimely demise due to different epidemics. People started nailing the utensils as offerings to god for better health and life. “In those times, people believed that Anandadi Lokeshwor could cure leprosy and other pandemic diseases. So they made the offerings to save themselves from such outbreaks, and many still follow the tradition,” says Mali. On the other hand, Yamuna Maharjan has mentioned in her article published in the research journal ‘Kirti’ that during epidemics, many young widows immolated themselves along with their husbands’ bodies on the funeral pyre, under the tradition of Sati. Then the things that the couple owned would be of no use. So the family of the deceased offered the utensils to the temple, including the dowry brought home by the daughter-in-law. Though the tradition of Sati is no longer practiced, nor is there a fear of epidemics, people still continue to visit the temple to nail the utensils. Old ones are removed from the walls to create space for new ones. “The storerooms behind the temple are now full of these utensils. As there’s a belief that the offerings can’t be destroyed or used for other purposes, we’ve started storing them in the rooms above the surrounding resting houses as well,” says Shakya, the temple priest. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=32133 Destination: Chapa Gaon to Sano Thimi Getting there You can either take a private or a public vehicle to get to Chapa Gaon. If you take a private car, it’s better you have driver so that he can drop you to Chapa Gaon at the beginning of the hike and pick you up from Sano Thimi later. You can also board a microbus from Lagankhel to Chapa Gaon.[break] It takes approximately 20 minutes in private vehicle and 30-45 minutes if you take public transportation. Hike highlights The walk can start with sightseeing through the Bajra Barahi Temple. The temple will help the visitors have a look into the ancient heritage and culture. From there, the trail for the hike will take you through agricultural fields at the southern edges of the Kathmandu Valley. From Chapa Goan, the trip will unwrap towards Godavari, Lubhu and finally to Sano Thimi. The tour to Godavari and Lubhu will give you glimpses of the lives in the Newar villages. It will take approximately three hours to complete the trail. If you start the hike in the morning, stopping for an organic lunch at Gamcha Organic Farm in the afternoon will be a capital idea. After spending some relaxing time on the farm, you can catch a microbus to get to the city or get picked up. Bare essentials • A day bag • Water bottle • Sunglasses • Sun-block cream • Hat/Cap • Reasonable walking shoes • Light snacks There’s no need for a map, as you can ask your way around. You might get lost a couple of times, but that can also be fun! Hike level The hike doesn’t have either steep uphill or downhill. The trail is easy and anyone can try it out. Weather If you’re lucky, warm sun will follow you throughout the hike but also be prepared for windy chills. Information and photo courtesysocialtours, Tridevi Marg, ThamelFor details: 4412508, info@socialtours.com http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31929 Considered to be one of the longest and the highest-altitude trekking trails in the world, the Great Himalaya Trail has been the topic of fascination among trekkers worldwide. The Nepal section of the trail begins near Kanchanjunga in the eastern border with India and Tibet and ends in Humla at the Nepal-Tibetan border. Bringing you closest to nature, the route takes you through the spectacular mountain landscapes, people and cultures.[break] With his ardor and belief, Dhendup Lama, 36, recently successfully completed the arduous trek which was a stretch of around 2,000 kilometers in 110 days. He did it along with his companion Ram Bahadur Rai, 50, and concluded it on December 9, 2011. Originally from Darjeeling, Lama was living in the US for twelve years but he had still not given up on his love and interest for adventure and trekking. Having worked as a trek leader before, trekking was not a new thing for him; but to embark on such a grueling project after his comeback was no easy feat. An avid traveler, he wishes to build a positive impact in the field of trekking in Nepal and also encourage the local trekkers. Trekking, which started off as a hobby has now become a profession for Lama, and the Himalaya is where he finds solace, peace and a place where he pacifies his stress. He will be returning to the Himalaya again as it has been an integral part of his life. The Week met Lama to know more about his recent venture, his future plans and the Great Himalaya Trail itself. How did you get into trekking and what made you venture out on the Great Himalaya Trail? My interest in trekking dates back to 1994. I was working as a local trek leader back then with the World Expeditions in Nepal for four years until I left for the States. There I took it more as a hobby but later realized that I needed to do something substantial in this field. The initial idea of doing the Himalaya Trail came about at the end of 2009 when I decided to come back to Nepal. I had been contemplating about this, and when I finally came back from the States in early 2010, I somehow bumped into the information of the Great Himalaya Trail on their website and that was how it all started. I had also taken the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOSL) course in the US. I had done the popular regions like Everest and Annapurna before, but the anticipation and apprehension of doing such a long trail was there as it had been a long time since I hadn’t done such a long trekking. This was how I came up with my own personal project, “Across the Himalaya: An Odyssey” and doing the Himalayan Trail was a part of it. How was your experience when you undertook the Trail? Do you remember any difficult incidents when you were at it? Most of the people who are doing this trail are usually doing it on the east-to-west route. But I started from west Nepal in Darchula and then finished off in Pashupati Nagar. Basically, to say it in short, it started with Darchula, then all the way up to Yari, then via Humla, I came down to Mugu, then went over to Dolpa, Mustang, Upper Mustang, then came across Manang and made my way over Manaslu, Taplejung, and finally Pashupati Nagar. The trekking is difficult in the sense of it being one of the longest and highest trekking trails, that there’s a lot of planning required and the money factor is also there. But more than the financial issue, I believe that the drive and enthusiasm to do it is what matters. At first, there were a couple of other people who were there with us but only till the first far west part. Then it was just me and my companion, Ram Bahadur Rai, who finished off the trail. One of the most difficult experiences, or I would rather put it as our mistake, was when we ran out of food and just had tea and a handful of tsampa, which is roasted flour usually made of barley flour, when we were in Dolpa. During that time, it had become difficult for us to sustain ourselves but we managed somehow. Since you did such an extensive trekking after a long time, what differences did you find compared to then and now? When I went back to the Khumbu region after thirteen years, there were a lot of changes that I saw. There have been some positive changes, like in the sense, to accommodate the travelers, a lot of teahouses have been built and people are doing well financially and their perception has changed. But at what costs? I feel that with commercialization, we’re drastically losing our cultural heritage at the same time. It’s only natural that once people start making money and become financially secure, they start venturing out. But I think it’s important to keep track with the development while maintaining the cultural aspects together as well. What’s your next venture? In a week’s time, I’ll be starting a trek of five months in India. I’ll begin with Arunachal Pradesh in North India, then to Uttar Khand, Himachal Pradesh, Ladakh and then finally Kashmir. Since it’s a totally unexplored route, I don’t know how that’ll go. But I’m looking forward to it. Then I’ll head over to do the sections in Pakistan. I’m also planning to do the Nepal section of Great Himalaya Trail again. Tell us about your project, Across the Himalaya: An Odyssey. My personal project, “Across the Himalaya: An Odyssey” is set to document my entire journey across the Himalaya, starting from Pakistan and all the way to Arunachal Pradesh. Through this project I aim to create an enthusiasm among the younger generation who are into trekking. I also want to elevate the level of work and the quality of services in the trekking sector of Nepal. Any other projects that are you’re currently working on? In collaboration with my friends, I’m trying to start a dollar-a-day initiative. The idea of this project is to encourage people to pledge a dollar for every single day of the days I trek. The donated money will then go to about 25 organizations that are involved in grassroot level projects that have been initiated by the villages in the Himalaya spread across Nepal, India and Pakistan. There are many projects which they are doing without any help from anywhere. So I want to source the money and help them. I have this idea and I’m trying to materialize it. What suggestions do you have for the upcoming trekkers who want to get into trekking and are aspiring to do the Himalayan Trail as well? One of most important things that one should have is a sense of faith and you also need to have the knowledge of living outdoors as there are lots of uncertainties out there. In order to initiate that, a good way would be to give some time from daily schedules and just go outdoors and indulge in activities like camping and hiking. First, get the feel of the outdoors and then you can research on the information and work on it. The biggest concern that one may face while trekking is medical issues. So you need to have knowledge of basic first aid as well. Other than that, the whole Himalayan region is quite safe to explore. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31934 In today’s brave new online world, I breathe, eat, and shop online. My burgers come from Foodmandu.com, my American goodies from Harilo.com, and my new friends come from Facebook, and my new coworkers are all LinkedIn. My identity and personality has been virtualized into a myriad of usernames and passwords that I can’t ever fully account for, as I have dozens, or more. And all this online life is under an evil shadow, as hackers lurk everywhere...[break] As an ex-inner city American, this brave new world living under evil online influence is no different than the old world living with muggings, break-ins, and petty theft...only the locks have been changed – they are now on my browser windows instead of my triple-paned glass ones. Instead of writing down PINs on the back of business cards and keeping those in my leather wallet, they are now locked by some indecipherable technology inside of my Google Wallet. Instead of trying to remember passwords with my dog’s name and the birthday of my beautiful wife, I have software that generates new ones in strings of encrypted alpha-numerics locked deep in the bowels of my computers and phones. Yet, with all of this new encryption and daily security updates from hundreds of software packages, I know deep in my heart it’s all a facade, as we are truly living under an evil shadow, from which currently there is no real escape. For decades now, security advisors from such notables as Microsoft Corporation have repeatedly warned us to keep our online identities and details safe from prying evil eyes, yet today www.microsoft.in is down, hacked, with all of its customer’s names and passwords compromised. And this new MS story is not unique, as there are multiple stories per week of some site being hacked and some large group of users’ info being compromised, or of some new vulnerability we need to be aware of, and some new security patch that needs to be applied. It’s an endless loop of updates, hackings, and updates again. Just like fighting crime in the real world seems like a war that will go on forever, so does fighting cyber-crime in the brave new world we find ourselves in today. Our Google Wallet, if lost, will expose just as much as our leather ones. Storing our credit cards info online is akin to dropping our plastic cards on the open ground – just waiting for someone to pick up and use them. And there seems to be no end in sight... With group names like Anonymous, EvilShadow, Legion of Doom, Cult of the Dead Cow, and Hacktivismo, hackers and hacktivists alike create and discover vulnerabilities called rootkits, backdoors, trojan horses, and distributed denials of service. Some work for the fun of it, some work for the common good (let’s call them hacktivists), and some work for Chinese or Russian botnets with much more nefarious intents, but rest assured, someone is working out how to break into an online system that you use today. The solutions offered are laughable: 1) stay offline – not gonna happen for anyone in the future, 2) protect yourself by staying up to date on the latest in security – impossible to do as our resolve weakens over the decades, or 3) spend money on new and improved software tools like Norton Internet Security, along with a host of others – ha! – another sad joke on the online consumer. The situation we find ourselves is predictable, and follows this rule of law: follow the money. We find ourselves embroiled in that age-old adage, “Money is the root of all evil.” Some folks have it, most don’t, and there are millions of people out there trying to steal some. Just as the saying goes “For everything online, there was once an offline equivalent,” it seems that criminality is no exception. We have and still do live under an evil shadow of malcontent and petty crime. The broader question of WHY is worthy of investigation, and has been for some time. Matthew B. Robinson, author of “Why Crime? An Integrated Systems Theory of Antisocial Behavior” (2004), starts at the cellular level, looking at our DNA and the role of genes and the heritability of antisocial behavior. Another popular explanation of the “root of all evil” comes from Robert Agnew, as described in “Why Do Criminals Offend? A General Theory of Crime and Delinquency” (2005), in which he looks at personality, family, school, peers, and work for the cause of our lack of self-control when it comes to “doing the right thing.” Personally, being the old-school socialist that I am, I think the solution will only come with a global and equal distribution of wealth, but perhaps the technological answer to cyber crime will be a futuristic way of regulating serotonin levels, or even a reconstruction of faulty DNA within our population. Until then, it is best to keep your eye on your Google (or leather wallet), and continue to trust nothing online as the evil shadow continues to grow over everything we do online – all in the knowing that whatever we do, it’s most likely a futile attempt. Jiggy Gaton is quirky kinda techo-expat who wants to believe that humankind is basically good, but sees very little precedent for such an assertion. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31936 This I write in serious reconsideration of what I wrote last week. Last week, I strongly felt that most people were cheats – nothing more than facile beings desperate to please others. Today, I feel slightly different about the matter. Although I pretty much feel the same, I feel the need to reconsider parts of my theory.[break] But before I tell you what the theory is, let me share with you what propelled me to rethink the whole thing. I was passing through the hotel lobby when something caught my attention. “Can I tell you something? I think you have a very strong body odor and it’s giving me a headache.” These were the precise words I overheard a girl use when she was addressing what I assume was her friend. That too in front of the numerous tourists gathered together to check in or check out of the hotel. Ouch! Brutal, brutal indeed! The poor guy flushed and stood there, emasculated and enfeebled, I could see. At least by the looks of it, he seemed pretty humiliated. Why she chose that precise moment to be so blunt escapes me. Worse yet, there were people within hearing distance, so I would’ve thought that this little confrontation would’ve benefited if it were a little more cryptic. But no such thing in the land of the mercilessly bold, I guess. On a similar note, I’ve been forced to reconsider my views, thanks to a pompous woman I know. She feels that the whole world reveres her and that she’s the most intellectual being on Earth. I feel that “pseudo intellectual” would be a much better word choice. Judgments aside, she really is a bit conceited. Why I say this is simple. There we were sitting in a big group, hoping to do some teamwork and help each other out. And there, this woman was hoping that all we would do was admire her and compliment her, and her alone. When she had had enough, she got up in front of the entire team and said, “I think I should lead the group discussion. I mean, after all, I’m a much better speaker than all of you.” But was she really? I think you already know my answer. A third example of why I need to reevaluate my views comes from my own case. Now look at me, being all judgmental and writing against that unabashed girlfriend or that imperious woman. Sometimes I get so carried away with the whole “speak your mind” thing that I barely realize the wonders a little white lie can do for me. Moreover, I have also encountered many people who are often so forthright that I feel the urge to stop them and say, “Please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” It can, on the other hand, be argued that such people, including myself, are merely being honest, merely speaking their minds. And if such people are doing precisely what I urged everyone to do in my last article, then maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all. And this is where my modified theory comes in. People seem to be bold for all the wrong reasons. Humiliating a friend in public doesn’t make you lionhearted; it makes you impudent. Making others around you feel inferior proves that you’re superior; it merely proves that you’re full of yourself. Judging others on vain pretences doesn’t show that you’re exercising your right to “freedom to speech.” So I think that when it comes to frivolous matters, we all have opinions and aren’t afraid to share it. However, the minute the conversation takes a turn for the deeper level of things, for things that can make a difference, we all choose to shut up and let others do all the talking. For things that matter, we never really take it on ourselves to be sincere or true to ourselves: we just go with the majority. So what good is being bold when we can’t channel it where it’s most required? What good is courage and valor if we don’t speak up for things that matter the most? Yes, you might not agree with me; and yes, you might think that I’m being unreasonable in my claims. But what good is reason if it stops us from speaking up for the most important things? And again, we come to the same chain of insincerity being drilled into our humankind. Although I did choose to modify my theory and claim that people do speak their minds oftentimes, I think it’ll be worthwhile to ponder over how valuable this kind of genuineness is, to ask ourselves: Do we really speak our minds when it’s needed the most? Ayushma Basnyat is a student of Political Science at Thammasat University who enjoys exploring life and all that it has to offer. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31935 Finally, we have a verdict from our Supreme Court and our three amigos will be spending time in our jails, learning to make some paper bags. I think they should also learn a new trade like plumbing or painting and stuff because they would be without dozens of police ‘slaves’ working for them in their homes when they come out of prison. Hope someday they will also come up with a report on how to reform our prisons as well. It really helps when you have insider information, hoina ra?[break] In some ways, we have to feel sorry for our former IGPs. They couldn’t have really bought them faulty Armed Personnel Carriers (APCs) without making our former Home Ministers happy. Now, our homies are in their mansions while our amigos will spend some quality time away from home. But not to worry. A former IGP who spent some time in jail during the Panchey days is now heading the Nepal Ex-Policemen’s Association. Once our three amigos are out of prison, maybe they will get to be co-chairpersons of the association as well. I think they should make that a prequisite, hagi? The other 31 police officers have been acquitted of all charges. The juniors will fit right in as if nothing happened but it would be tough for our AIGs. We will now have 10 AIGs instead of eight. Many years ago, we used to have two but they kept on adding more so that our political parties could get their ‘men’ wear an extra phooli! One of the AIGs is our former Kollywood Hero. He still looks good enough to star in them movies, and the other one is an honest cop who knows nearly every business wallahs in the city. The Police Headquarters is having a hard time figuring out what to do with them now. Maybe they should get one to find funding for some cop movies while the other will get to act in them. The recent Kollywood movie ‘Loot’ has stunned movie critics with its box office collections. Maybe our cops can do better and present the side of their story with ‘Boot’ since they use their boots on hapless citizens often. It’s tough to be a police officer in ‘New Nepal.’ A wanted fugitive is hobnobbing with our current Home Minister and the police don’t have the courage to arrest the slimebag. Of course, the Home Minister might transfer the ‘hero’ cop to Simikot if he or she goes around trying to get the ‘political’ goons. A CA member sentenced to jail for murder by the Supreme Court is busy attending programs while senior police officers are forced to sit with him and smile back. Another CA member is in jail for abducting a businessman. This happened only in Bollywood movies or the grand old State of Bihar. Now, Bollywood has moved on and is turning to Hollywood and Bihar is doing much better. And our college students in India can’t sell cool jeans and boots from New Road for extra pocket money because the Desis have moved on from colorful shirts and funny jeans. As usual, our ‘visionary’ politicians are above the law. Even the CIAA folks couldn’t find any evidence to link our politicians to the Sudan Scam. Someone needs to tell our investigators that all they need to do is hauling in all our politicians’ personal assistants (PAs) and get hold of their black books. The ministers are busy cutting ribbons and attending exhibitions and what not. It’s the PAs who hold power to transfer a civil servant from Kholapani to Tatopani as long as the price is right. We still have a few honest cops around. SP Kharel was doing a good job in Kathmandu but then he got transferred to a training center and he’s now in Parsa. Kidnapping and extortion have gone down quite a bit in the area after his posting there. If our film wallahs really want to make some moolah, then they should do a movie on this guy. It would certainly break the box-office records. If the producers of ‘Loot’ haven’t decided on the story for the sequel, then they should think about making Haku Kale, a reformed thug who joins the police force and battles it out with our politicians and their goondas. And not to forget, he also fights with fellow police officers who have turned into thugs, kya. That would be quite a contrast from reality, hagi? Well, the ending wouldn’t be a happy one because at the end of the movie, Inspector Haku Kale will be transferred to a remote district where he will have nothing to do but play chess with his constables. There’s an idea for the third part, Haku becomes a Chess Grandmaster and makes our country proud or something. Guffadi likes vyar vyar momos, safa tyampoos (need them earplugs) and loves to read about them netas and their nautanki nataks and blogs at guffadi.blogspot.com. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31933 To me, Valentine’s Day doesn’t mean as much as it used to, or least not as much as my girl thinks it should. Where I once used to see its magic, wonder and romance, all I see is rampant commercialism. Just a few years ago, it used to be a one-day event. Now I hear they have decided to extend it to eight days, with seven days as Rose Day, Propose Day, Chocolate Day, Teddy Day, Promise Day, Kiss Day, and Hug Day respectively, leading onto the ultimate: Valentine’s Day.[break] If you ever had trouble choosing a gift between a chocolate, a teddy or a ring, well, you’re in luck because now there’s a day for each of those. But I digress. This piece isn’t about gross commercialism of pop culture. Nor am I here to bash Valentine’s Day just because it’s “popular with the kids these days.” This is about a man’s submission to the powers beyond his control. This is about his struggle to survive in a world which, with each passing day, makes lesser and lesser sense to him. This is about my search for a Valentine’s Day gift. I don’t remember what I got for her last year. You see, it was the first year of our relationship. It seems the whole year just went by giving gifts. Some to say “I care,” some to say “I love you” and some to say “I’m sorry.” Actually, mostly to say “I’m sorry!” There was a time when I used to think that higher dimensional calculus was the most difficult thing I had ever faced. Back then, I never had to find gifts for anyone. I’m an engineer; I’m not built for this. And my habit of leaving everything to the very last minute doesn’t help, either. I tried to think of the subtle hints she dropped along the way, as women often do. There were several but all of them meant spending money. As it was against my New Year’s resolution, I skipped plans to buy stuff until I ran out of every other recourse. By the way, about my New Year’s Resolutions: after several failed resolutions on losing weight, I realized I was so good at holding onto excess weight things that I decided to make holding-onto-my-money this year’s resolution. I then thought about crafting. Why not build something out of things lying in and around the house? It adds a personal touch to the gift. I hear they value those things. Moreover, it adds more savings to my pocket. I tried to reach into myself looking for engineer’s creativity, and I found engineer’s laziness. Too much work, and did I tell you I waited till the very last minute?! Something simple, then – how about randomly pinning up few of her pictures on the wall with cutout alphabets forming a sweet romantic message (“I L U” takes the least amount of effort). Oh! But that’s what I did for our anniversary. OK – don’t panic. How about I cook her something? And by cooking, I mean putting week-old, refrigerated raw edible item on a hot pan and heating it until just before it burns completely. I had already done that on her last birthday. So, exhausted and out of ideas, I had to turn back to Almighty Money. For the past few months, she had repeatedly mentioned “ring” in our several conversations. Now don’t get any ideas. I’m still far away from wedding rings or engagement rings. Far, far away, very far. But I’ve heard there’s something called a Promise Ring. The way I’ve understood is, if you feel an engagement ring is too much of a commitment, then give her a promise ring, which means “I promise I’ll give you an engagement ring... someday.” What an idea! Ingenious! But I’m such a commitment-phobe that I feel even a promise ring is too much of a commitment. So I came up with the idea of I-swear ring, meaning “I swear I’ll give you a Promise Ring... someday.” Besides, she loves things beginning with “i” – her iPod, iPhone, iPad and her iDiot boyfriend, to name a few. So I ordered a ring. It hasn’t arrived yet. But I have a funny feeling that I got her size wrong, which isn’t going to please her one bit. I give up! Anyone has any ideas for an “I’m Sorry” gift? The writer is a computer engineer, but occasionally likes to dabble in music and photography. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31932 Bharjanma ghastira man diyi dhan kamayoNaam kyai rahos pachi bhanera kuwa khanayoGhasi daridra gharko tara buddhi kastoMa Bhanubhakta dhani bhaikana aja kina yesto!           –Ghasi, Bhanubhakta Acharya– I still clearly remember these lines which I came across when I was a student in grade six. I started writing poems early, when I was just twelve years old, and this poem got entrenched in my thoughts ever since. [break]This poem really inspired me and made me aware of what I can do as a person and how I can contribute to the society. The lines from the poem “Ghasi” sheds light on the fact that our life is temporary and we won’t be living forever. Being born as a human, we should do something for the sake of humanity and society. Just getting a life, living and leaving thereafter shouldn’t be the purpose of life. We can give a whole new meaning to our lives only when we do something in any little ways we can. When poet Bhanubhakta Acharya was coming back from Benares, India, on his way home, he took shelter under a tree. He then met a grass cutter, who was gathering grass. As he got into a conversation with the grass cutter, he came to know that he was toiling hard not only to earn his livelihood but saving money to dig a well in his village so that passersbys could quench their thirst and that he would be remembered even after his death. Upon knowing the grass cutter’s thought for such a noble cause, Bhanubhakta was left speechless and he pondered upon what he himself had done so far. The grass cutter, though a poor fellow, was compassionate and had a big dream. Bhanubhakta then contemplated on the truth that though he came from a rich family and was educated, he still had not thought about life, the way the grass cutter did. It was then that he got inspired to do something in life. This inspiration is what led him to translate Ramayan, the ancient Sanskrit epic, into Nepali language so that even ordinary Nepali people could read it as well. About Unnati Bohara “Sheela” Poet, lyricist and litterateur, Sheela describes herself as a sensitive person who likes to write about the realities of life in creative ways. Her themes are usually the suffering, chaos and the harsh realities of life. “When I’m emotional and going through something, I just jot down my thoughts into a diary and from there a whole new poem or a story gets created,” says Sheela. Also a singer, she has a collection of songs she wrote and also a number of poems and novels to her credit. Some of her published works are her collection of poems, “Koseli Usailai,” “Bhavanaka Taranga,” and also song collection, “Adrishya Ghau” and a number of song albums like “Pheri Ekpalta,” “Bhul Bhayo Mabaata,” among others. Her works which have been translated into English are the novel “Two Faces of a Coin” and an anthology of lyrical poems, “Soft Sensation.” She has also been awarded with the “Prabal Gorkha Dakshin Baahu Chautho,” the National Civil Golden Award 2064, Rajdhani Special Award 2063, among others. “My passion is writing about the realities of life rather than fiction because that way, I believe that I can justify what I’ve seen and experienced,” says Sheela. She is almost done writing a novel called “Trishna” which is based on a real life story about the psychology of a child. Her collection of songs called “Sheelaka Sparshaharu” is also being published soon. Gauri By Madhab Prasad Ghimire This is a narrative poetry written by Ghimire to mourn the death of his beloved wife. The poem is about what he went through and his poignant experiences after his wife passed away. Husband and wife complete each other, and Ghimire in this poem expresses about how he can forget his wife when she had always been there for him. This is a poem written when pain and suffering had reached its limitation and it speaks about the poet’s suffering and the sense of absence that he felt. Anuradha By Bijay Bahadur Malla I’ve read this book many times and every time I do so, I find more profound and new meanings. This book is about a woman named Anuradha and it talks about her psychology and her perspectives. The book focuses on her life and tells a distressing story of how she was forcefully married. Anuradha questions that though she was married lawfully, how can forced marriage be called a pious act? The book is a voice of an aware and rebellious woman who fought for her rights. Jiwan Kada ki Phool By Jhamak Ghimire This is an autobiography and shows the struggle and the pain that the writer went through in her life. I really admire the writer because though she was born as a differently-abled person, the writer developed a talent of writing with her feet. Fighting her physical challenges, she achieved a position in the field of literature and proved that she can do anything that even a normal person could find hard to. Her drive and passion for life is really inspiring. Roostira Rumalida By Dr Dhruba Chandra Gautam This book is a travelogue and talks about the experiences of the writer when he had visited Russia. Being a litterateur, he has described those places in a literary way and he has also compared things that he found there with that of his own country. Though I have never been to Russia, it felt like I was there while reading this book. Ishwarko Adalatma Outsiderko Bayan By Momila The writer has the power to play with words beautifully. The book, in an emotional manner, describes the feelings of human beings. The book talks about how we cannot escape from the sufferings of life, and though we embrace it happily or by being sad, we have to accept this fact. No matter how often I read this book, it never seems enough as I can relate to it every time. As told to Nistha Rayamajhi http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31931 Take three photographs. Show it to some friends and ask them to guess what the person in the picture could be doing? First picture: A firefighter struggling with a fire hose? Extinguishing a fire. Second picture: A woman on the street with a broom in her hand? Getting ready to sweep the road.[break] Third picture: A policeman stopping a vehicle? Fishing for some cash! This is what most people would answer. If one observes the makeup of Nepal Police, one will discover that 40% of the 60,000-strong force is occupied by administrative work. Ten percent of them are either on leave or deployed in UN Missions abroad. And the remaining 50%, i.e., 30,000 policemen and women provide security to the 30 million citizens in Nepal. As per international practice, a policeman is assigned to provide security for 300 people. In Nepal, if the number of police force out in the field is to be weighed against the total population, the police-population ratio is 1:1,000. And with minimum facilities and incentives, Nepal’s finest fill in as long as 18 hours a day to shoulder their responsibilities. Still, why is it that they are the ones who are the most defamed? An institution’s success and credibility is evaluated on account of people’s trust on it. More so for the police who must work closely with the common people; and the trust, belief and faith in the institution would be the most valued asset. But things are different with Nepal Police. Instead of being an entity that follows and enforces the law in the society, Nepal’s police force has an image of misusing law and the power bestowed upon them by the people. No wonder hence for such urban slang like dande, ghusyaha and kaamchor. As per the Police Act and Regulations, they are the defenders of law and society, but with their behavior, it rarely seems so. Why? The reasons are clear – the corrupt image that majority of them have, lack of loyalty and commitment to their profession and institution as well as irresponsible conduct. It’s not that there are no policemen who are faithful and have attained a good repute. But the number is negligible. Additionally, even the positive efforts have been narrowed down as their attempt in image building and becoming heroes is clearly a temporary trend or self promotion. Contrary to Nepal Police’s motto of “Satya, Sewa, Surakshya” (Truth, Service, Security), the behavior, manner and conduct of most in the police is otherwise. Innocent people seem to be getting undeserved punishment and the guilty roam freely. Given the context, it’s questionable if they’ve even heard of the word called “service.” While the police are supposed to be providing service to the citizens, the scenario is exactly the opposite. The sight of police officers should offer us a sense of security but commoners see them as a sign of alarm and instead fear their presence. Such is the irony. If people had a sense of respect and appreciation for police, they wouldn’t just be bystanders and watch a criminal run past them while the police desperately chase or when a traffic police on duty is beaten up by an angry commuter. People are indifferent for a reason, or what can better explain their muteness while their own protectors end up in trouble. If they felt any belongingness, they would stand up for their protectors. But very few would believe that a traffic policeman would be beaten up for trying to do his duty right at the checkpoint. Most would presume that he got beaten up because he was asking for some easy money. A person’s image is built on the basis of what’s seen and perceived of him on a daily basis. And what’s seen and heard of the police on a daily basis are instances which label them more and more unpopular among people. People have stopped believing that police are meant to catch culprits because they’ve seen the police walking hand in hand with the most dangerous of criminals reported to have fled. From the Inspector General of Police (IGP) to constables, a long line of them have been charged for corruption. The number of them involved in murder, looting and rape is also on the rise. On Monday this very week, the Special Court convicted three former chiefs of the Nepal Police in the Sudan scam that defamed Nepal internationally and tarnished the institutional image of Nepal Police. The general impression that people have of police is ill-tempered. They don’t know how to talk politely at all and it’s almost as if the mantra is that the more bad-tempered one is and the coarser one’s language is the better police one becomes. With their rough look and reckless lifestyle, most people already perceive them as rogues. But even those who go to the police with reserved respect towards them are disappointed right away with their crude behavior. Say you have to meet the head of a police station and your bad day starts right there. The assistant outside will order you to wait, stating that “Sir” is busy with some work. Without a waiting area, you lean against the wall and hear the loud voices of the heads and the chief is wasting time in an unnecessary chitchat. If somehow you finally get to meet them, they’ll start making demands for even the simplest of official work. The daring ones will make demands directly; some will beat around the bush. Their behavior makes you feel that you’re dealing with cunning middlemen in real estate business rather than individuals of an institution that has been granted the responsibility of maintaining law and order in the society. The police working for common people and for which the state spends hundreds of millions, currently work like private offices where a price is stated for each work. Police stations thus represent torture and insult. No wonder, enemies wish each other a day of torment at the police station. The state definitely didn’t form such a body to spread fear and threat among its citizens. But one has to admit so, given the context and the reputation police officers have. The situation is rotten right from the beginning, though. Prior to selection of the new recruits, rather than the skills and abilities of the individuals, source-force, and nepotism and under the table dealings determine their fate in the police force. Due to which, those who do understand the duty and responsibility of a true policeman and are capable of working fairly, get stuck in the mire that has entangles deep within the system. And besides recruitment, transfer and promotion process also depends on one’s political backup and source-force. According to the Police Act, the head of the institution leads all the operations. The officials from Home Ministry and other government departments are only facilitators. But that’s in theory. What’s actually happening is that those who have to take leadership are working as facilitators and the supposed facilitators have grabbed the reins instead. As such, police officers who are not blessed with the favors of political leaders become helpless orphans. Almost every individual who enters the police force accepts this as their guru mantra – the mantra of mantras to follow. Hence, even for the facilities that should be easily available from the institution along with periodical promotion, they have to queue up at the doorsteps of politicians. And these knavish politicians in return of their favor will use and abuse the police officials for their interest at high costs. The police, too, by giving in to every whim and demand of these politicians, get caught up in a mess so deep that they can never get out of it. Most decisions are taken on the basis of recommendations from political power centers rather than institutional procedures. Hence, policemen are unwilling to believe that the institutional chain of command will be able to provide them any justice. The power centers then never miss a chance to take advantage of this situation. Due to this, policemen are more loyal to the power-center officials than their own institution’s head. Senior officials in the police force thus become only effigies who gather salutes but not actual allegiance. Because of the lack of transparency in recruitment and selection process of the police force, there are more corrupt people in the institution. Monetary gains and unscrupulous deals mark their earning so much that they think it’s impossible to get anything done in the sector without money, right from the recruitment process. Hence, every police officer who enters the institution is thinking right from the beginning as to how he can make up for the amount he spent to get into the sector and the extra money spent to grab a good position, the money spent to get a transfer and promotion, and so on. And all that amount one will try to raise either from ordinary citizens by giving them numerous troubles or from the criminals who will offer any amount one demands in return of a bailout. Nepal Police has become like a mud house that looks sturdy from the outside but is growing hollow within and will soon collapse. It’s the institution’s members who have destroyed its image and the reconstruction for improvement has to start from themselves.. If they want to prevent a collapse, they have to change their thinking, conduct and priorities. To bring the police force that has developed a habit of tail-wagging behind politicians into the right track, there’s no alternative other than taking strict actions against all corrupt officials. The start has to be from the institutional chief or head. The responsible policymakers have to focus on developing the right policies. Instead of paying visits to ambassadors and politicians and attending dinner invitations of industrialists, they have to shift their efforts on improving the institution’s image and profile. If we calculate the number of manpower in the institution, half of the total number i.e., 35,231, are police constables. 11,176 are head constables. There are 5,729 Assistant Sub Inspectors, 3,170 Sub Inspectors, and 1,130 Inspectors. According to this data, the number of policemen who directly tackle and work amongst the citizens is 56,437 whereas the number of police officials above Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) ranges within 2,000. The ones who get mixed up in the daily lifestyle of the ordinary citizens are policemen from the lower ranks. If improvements can be made in the manners and behavior of just these policemen, the image of the police will get better. But to even bring any improvements in these policemen, firstly, it’s important that the 2,000 in the higher ranks get their act together as well. Based on the training they receive during their admission, they have to serve at least 30 years. Once they’ve taken these training, rarely do they get a chance to sit for another session. But it’s important that they receive more training as per changing times. Moreover, these training courses have to be revised so as to produce proper and capable police. The government as well has a responsibility to fulfill here. To break the trend where cash, political patronage and recommendations have become a dominant factor in the transfers and promotions of police personnel, the government has to take on the responsibility of immediately forming a quasi-judicial Police Service Commission. A weak police force is an indicator of a weak nation. In order to strengthen all the systems of a nation, it’s important to firstly strengthen the law enforcement body. Therefore, the Police Act should be amended in such ways that the institutional head cannot be replaced through a Cabinet decision, thereby giving him greater control. It’s time the political leaders who pride themselves in being surrounded by security personnel feel some shame of misusing the service. Instead of letting political leaders and officials siphoning off the budget, the government should focus that the budget is utilized to provide for the services, facilities and means to the police force. It’s still not too late for the government to send out a positive message that it’s concerned about the institution. Besides, the police should be able to internalize the belief Tapainko surakshya, Hamro Dayitwa (Your security is our responsibility) rather than Tapainko surakshya, Hamro chahana (Your security is our wish). Maybe then the failing image of Nepal Police can be turned around for the better. Or else, what can one do to save a sinking ship? Dhungana is a correspondent for Nagaraik Nepali daily and has been reporting on crime, law and order for 11 years. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31930 Some banks ask too many questions even for a simple service like opening an account. Why do they need so much info? After all, it’s my money! Banks typically ask you to provide sufficient information to substantiate your identity, home address and source of income. Financial institutions must perform such due diligence to identify their clients and to ascertain other information relevant to doing business with them. [break] This practice, commonly known as Know Your Customer (KYC) is important in order to safeguard your own interest (for example, to prevent identity theft, financial fraud) and to combat national and global challenges like money laundering and terrorist financing. Money laundering refers to the process of concealing the source of money acquired through illegal means. It poses a significant concern across the world, and as a result, governments and international bodies have undertaken efforts to deter, prevent and punish money launderers. Financial institutions have likewise set up mechanisms to prevent and detect transactions involving dirty money, both as a result of government requirements and to avoid the reputation damage. A bank customer needs to go through similar or even escalated levels of screening almost everywhere else in the world. But as a customer, you may find it cumbersome and sometimes frustrating in Nepal primarily because of the inadequacies in our state administration system. Most countries use Social Security or National Identification numbers as primary forms of identification and the data in these systems are kept well and updated, in most cases in electronic form; therefore, easily accessible by authorities and institutions, thereby bringing about uniformity in approach. In Nepal, a number of identification documents are entertained, including passport, citizenship certificate, driver’s license, etc. These documents don’t necessarily contain all information required by a bank. Furthermore, they are usually not updated to reflect your occupation, current address etc. Another challenge we face here is verification of residential address. Authorities haven’t numbered the houses nor mapped and marked the streets to facilitate easy identification of a property. When was the last time your courier delivered to your house without the man calling you to ask you to guide him on which turns to take and what color your gate is? To overcome this difficulty, banks here usually ask you to draw a location map of your house, which is later verified physically by a bank employee. In most countries, this isn’t necessary, as the houses are easily identifiable. Third, and perhaps the most annoying for a bank customer is the disclosure of the source of his income. Transparency is not yet the order of the day in our society. Culturally, many of us don’t believe that we need to let others know how we make our money or whether the money is a gift from parents, in which case, the source of the parent’s income is of interest. And then there are possibilities that money earned through legitimate but informal sources may not necessarily be within the purview of the formal tax net. I understand there are firms and companies in Nepal who pay salaries to their employees in two parts: taxed and undisclosed. Archaic tax regime in our country discourages and sometimes makes it impossible for otherwise law-abiding businesses – in the private sector or those that aren’t listed – to be fully transparent. Multitude of these issues makes one uncomfortable, without any wrongdoing on your part individually, when you’re asked about the source of your income. And I guess we’re paying in some ways for the shortcomings in our system. I’m sure you’ve read and heard about how Nepal is likely to be categorized as a “high risk” country by Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for not having adequate laws, regulations and practices in place. KYC and anti-money laundering mechanisms are at the very core of the FATF mandate. One of the global financial institutions has recently suspended its service to many Asian banks on grounds of difficulty and cost associated with these very issues. If we as a nation fail to rapidly comply with international requirements, cost of doing business or maintaining a bank account in Nepal will increase further as Nepali banks will then face more hurdles. Our banks already pay a higher premium to our international service providers as our country’s risk rating is poor. So you’ll see that there are a number of reasons why banks have raised and will continue to raise scrutiny of their customers. Viewed from a simplistic perspective at a personal level, it’s important to disclose your source of income to your bank and to ensure that the bank has the current data on your occupation and address in order to protect your own money. You as a customer should be more comfortable with a bank that seeks to conduct meaningful due diligence of its customers as opposed to those who don’t. A lot of discussions have taken place on merger of banks. Is it really the solution to the current problems? Let’s first define the current problems: a) there are too many financial institutions relative to the size and growth of our economy; b) corporate governance and risk management standards in many institutions are weak; and c) most importantly, political uncertainty and transitional state of affairs have taken a huge toll on the business environment and socio-economic sphere. The list can be longer but most other problems are the results of the ones stated above. Is merger the answer? It makes sense only if additional value is created. Merger of weak FIs creates a bigger weaker institution. In my view, consolidation should now happen by way of strong banks acquiring a number of smaller, weaker institutions, rather than FIs randomly selecting partners to merge with. The hub and spoke approach will ensure better stability. The Central Bank must play a proactive, positive role here. There are two more ingredients which are necessary: a) more capital injection; and b) further capacity enhancement to improve governance and risk management standards. It’s about going back to basics and a more conventional posturing. Joshi is the ceo of Laxmi Bank. Disclaimer The opinions expressed herein are those of the author’s and are not held by The Week, unless specifically stated. The material is for general information only and does not constitute investment, tax, legal or other forms of advice. You should not rely on this information to make (or refrain from making) any decisions. Always obtain independent, professional advice for your own particular situation. Any information you provide may be used on The Week/Moneywise and other Nepal Republic Media Pvt. Ltd sites. http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31928 As the peak hour of the evening rush in and around central Kathmandu starts to lessen, pedestrians are seen crossing the one-way traffic, whizzing in the Tundikhel-Ratna Park area through the lights from speeding vehicles. Even though some climb up the dark stairs of the overhead bridge, the huge hoarding boards block any fickle light over the areas. In the pitch black darkness, one can only walk as fast as he can or just drop the entire idea of taking the bridge if some suspicious figures are seen moving in the dark.[break] The risk of pick-pocketing and robbery in the dark lanes running over the roads force the pedestrians to take a second thought before climbing the dark flight of steps. Turning into a safe shelter for criminal activities during the dark hours, these overhead bridges threaten the security of the people even when the city is still alive. “We get to hear about many cases of people getting robbed above the bridge,” says Bishnu Gautam who owns a shop below the overhead bridge at the New Road Gate. He adds that he too is fearful while taking the overhead bridge in the evening, even as early as six o’clock. “When we have to take home whatever we’ve earned, I rather avoid the bridge above.” Smriti Lo, a student and a regular walker from Bag Bazaar to Ratna Park also shares her experience. “As I climbed the stairs of the overhead bridge at Ratna Park, I could see three or four people standing at the other end of the bridge. I felt that they were looking at me and whispering. There was hardly any light on the bridge, so I decided to turn around, climbed down the same stairs and took the road instead.” DIG Binod Singh, spokesperson of Nepal Police, agrees that the overhead bridges are inappropriate from the security point of view. “The big hoarding boards on both sides block the views of the bridge.” He also points out that most of the overhead bridges are there just for the sake of infrastructure. “Some of the bridges are not architecturally sound, and instead of facilitating pedestrians, they bring more trouble.” In the absence of light or CCTV cameras, pick-pockets, robbers, drug abusers and people involved in other illegal activities take refuge in the overhead bridges. Ram Prasad Thapa, Division Chief of the Department of Physical Development and Construction, Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC), says they have realized the threat to the general people walking on the bridges and they have discussed the matter in meetings. “We can’t just put up light bulbs in those places. We have to work in coordination with the Nepal Electricity Authority for street lights,” he says. He also mentioned that KMC has given the overhead bridges on lease to a private company, Innovative Concept Nepal Private Limited, and they are the ones responsible for the maintenance of the overhead bridges. But installing lights is KMC’s responsibility. While Thapa agreed that there have not been any improvements in those overhead bridges in terms of maintenance and upgrading public facilities, he said that putting up street lights on the overhead bridges will have to wait. CCTV cameras are, too, far from materializing. “We’ve wanted to install CCTV cameras at all busy traffic crossings, but budget is the main issue here. And to top it, load shedding prevents from regulating even the already installed cameras,” says DIGP Ganesh Raj Rai, Chief of Metropolitan Traffic Police Department. He added that the Traffic Police has already taken initiatives to ensure security on the bridges. “We pulled down the large hoarding board on the bridge at Ratna Park crossing as it was bigger than the railing’s height.” Thapa said that the Traffic Police had pulled down the hoarding in coordination with KMC. Though he said that they have decided that the new overhead bridges under construction will have hoarding boards with maximum width of three feet only, he argued that existing hoarding boards will not be completely pulled out. “But we’ll make sure that people walking on the bridges will be clearly seen from the streets below.” In light of the safety of pedestrians, DIGP Rai assured The Week that he is immediately going to inform the civil police about the rising insecurities on the overhead bridges. He also said that the Traffic Police, too, will regulate regular patrolling in those areas. DIG Singh also emphasized that the bridges should have transparent railings for the safety of pedestrians. He added that police personnel cannot remain static on all the overhead bridges but there have been regular patrolling during night. On the other hand, the shopkeepers who have rented the shutters below the overhead bridge near Bir Hospital have employed two security guards for the bridge. They pool money among themselves to pay for the private guards. “Eight years ago, a shutter had been vandalized and thieves had stolen everything in the shop. Since then, we’ve employed security guards on our own expenses,” says Govinda Bhujel who owns a surgical equipment shop below the bridge. “We’ve taken initiatives for the security ourselves rather than fearing for our money and goods.” http://theweek.myrepublica.com/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=31969 Decorating your home can be tricky and you definitely don’t want to buy something just to fill up space. Your choice of décor speaks volumes about your personality. So choose wisely. Nepali handicrafts can be the perfect way to enhance your domain if you are on the lookout for something unique and exclusive.[break] Nepali handicrafts have always been popular, both nationally and internationally. The Newars of Nepal have a rich culture and the tradition of Newar handicrafts goes a long way back. The Tamrakar Craft Showroom located next to St. Xavier’s School in Jawalakhel showcases a wide variety of décor items that are highly ethnic. The carvings are intricate and give simple items like a vase or a candle stand a regal look. Sanjay Tamrakar is the owner and his whole family is into the craft business. The desire to not let their tradition of handicrafts vanish is what propelled the family into this business. They started with MM Metal Crafts at Patan Industrial Estate nearly 30 years ago and slowly expanded with the showroom six years ago. “Newari handicrafts are rich and have a character to them that you don’t find in any other craft items. We want our future generation to see what we have and be proud of their heritage,” says Tamarakar with a pride clearly evident in the way he speaks as he shuffles around showing you his showroom. The showroom is filled with metal crafts, and a quick inventory of the items they have on display leave you with an urge to buy something and you won’t know where to start. The items are a bit on the expensive side but for the décor connoisseur, it’s an investment. While decorating, you need something that is no so loud as to create an imbalance or so subtle that it just fades into the background; and the items in this store hit the perfect chord. From an item as basic as a vase to add to your dining table to wow your guests to an idol for your puja corner, the store has something for everyone. Step in when you are in the Jawalakhel area and invest in a good buy for your home. Ghyampo Rs 2,000 A smaller version of the actual Ghyampo, this decoration piece is an eye catcher. Place it in your living room or at the entrance and watch your guest’s eyes light up with interest. Khadkulo Rs 2,000 Once again a smaller version of the actual item, the handcrafted Khadkulo is quite an accent piece. You can put some water, add flowers petals and place it near your entrance. Gagri Rs 8,000 The carvings on the Gagri offer a touch of uniqueness. This classic looking item lends a delicate charm to your décor. Tortoise Rs 4,000 A novel idea is to place a cool looking décor piece like this tortoise by the entrance instead of clichéd items like flower vases and pots.    Teapot Rs 4,000 Incorporate décor into your kitchen by opting for this teapot instead of your every day simple ones. Door handle Rs 2,500 These unconventional door handles can add zest and zing to your house appeal. Regular door handles look bland in comparison. Box Rs 5,500 Stow away knickknacks in boxes like these and keep clutter away from sight. It makes for the ideal décor addition for your dresser. Horse Rs 18,000 Perky accessories like this horse, for instance, will make your space come to life. Perfect for your entrance and living room. Gajur Rs 3,800 Basically meant to be used at main door entrances, these will serve as a warm welcome to your guests. Decorative wall hanging Rs 6,000 Adorn your walls with this intricately crafted piece and add a rustic feel to your home. Your friends will compliment you on your impeccable choice of décor.  Statue Price on request If you want something extravagant to make a bold statement, this statue is just perfect for that. Candle stand Rs 1,500 Utilize load shedding time to spend some romantic moments at home with your family with fragrant candles in this uber cool candle stand.