Submit your Article

I remember Dashain as a tender embrace. My cousins and I would race barefoot across the terrace, jamara tucked behind our ears, tika still damp on our foreheads. Steel plates clinked under the weight of sel roti, stacked like golden memories. The air was thick with marigold and camphor, madal drums pulsing softly in the background. In those sunlit rooms, family gathered without distraction, fully present, stitched together by ritual and story. My bajai would hum a bhajan in the kitchen and say, “Aaile ko keti-keta haru, yesto Dashain kahile dekhcha ra?”, translating to these kids nowadays, what would they know of a Dashain like this? 

She said in a melancholic tone. Like she already knew we’d grow up into a different kind of Dashain, one wrapped in Wi-Fi signals and busy schedules, where the warmth of the sunlit kitchen would be replaced by the glow of a screen. 

Now, the air feels quieter. The plates are still full. The rituals still happen. But more often, they unfold behind screens, typically on WhatsApp calls, filtered through Instagram stories, caught in between video edits and captions. We say “hello” instead of “namaste,” “thanks” instead of “dhanyabaad.” And somewhere in that shift, the soul of the festival feels like it’s slipping. 

My mother also speaks of a Dashain that stretched across days, a sacred pause when neighbors became family and the night was carried by stories passed down through voice and memory, not typed out. Each gesture held meaning. Each offering had a purpose. Even the smallest thing, placing jamara under a mattress, sweeping the puja room at dawn, applying tika with both hands was loaded with history. Today, those same gestures are often performed without question, reduced to a quiet shrug: “This is just what we do.” 

For many of us, festivals have become curated performances. We wear the traditional clothes, we light the lamps, we take part in the puja but too often through the lens of a phone. Culture is dressed up for the feed. Aesthetics sometimes eclipse meaning. The perfect photo matters more than the imperfect moment. And in the process, something quieter, something sacred, begins to fade. 

Kathmandu itself is changing. Sprawling family courtyards have turned into compact homes. Siblings live across countries. Families are spread thin across time zones. The altar may now be a single candle, lit in between meetings or homework. The spirit of celebration has become a matter of logistics. What was once rooted in sambandha, deep relational ties, can now feel like a checklist: tika, thali, photo, post. 

Tihar, another example, used to arrive gently. Flickering diyos, whispered songs, the unspoken warmth between brothers and sisters. A festival of light that lived not just in lamps but in shared silence. Now, celebrations often boom from Bluetooth speakers and dance to algorithms. TikTok trends replace traditional songs. The ritual is still there, but sometimes, it feels hollow, almost like a paper version of something once carved in stone. 

I watch friends post stunning rangolis and perfectly arranged thalis, and it’s beautiful. But it also feels rehearsed. The whispered instructions of grandparents are replaced with online tutorials. The chants become short audio clips played from someone else’s phone. This is a new way to celebrate, but I constantly wonder: does it still carry the same weight? 

Language is part of this quiet fading. Our mother tongues like: Newar, Maithili, Tamang, Gurung, among others carry within them stories, humor, songs, and wisdom. But they, too, are softening. Yielding to convenience, to English, to what feels easier. I find myself translating in my head before I speak to elders. And when a language disappears, so does a whole way of understanding the world. 

To be clear, this isn’t about resisting change. Culture isn’t something to preserve in glass. It’s alive, which means it adapts, shifts, and evolves. I’m not asking us to put down our phones or cancel our posts. Social media connects us. It lets us share, remember, and create. It brings a global Nepali diaspora together in ways once impossible. 

But when it becomes the only lens through which we experience culture, we risk turning festivals into content and content alone. 

What I’m asking is this: can we slow down? Can we ask why we do what we do? Can we pause before we post, just long enough to understand? Can we listen to the stories behind the rituals before they slip through the cracks? 

Festivals don’t need to be picture-perfect. They need to be felt. Lived in messy, honest, deeply human ways. Culture doesn’t need to be aesthetic, but it does need to be meaningful. We don’t need to be perfect keepers of tradition. But we should care more about what our customs mean when no one is watching, than how they look when everyone is. Because when rituals lose their roots, they become routines. And when tradition becomes a trend, it no longer grounds us. 

Our festivals still breathe. They still carry power. But they ask us to meet them halfway. To be present. To care. To listen. To remember. Because if we keep culture alive only for the feed, what remains when the screen fades to black? 

Soniva Vaidya

Grade XII

The British School, Kathmandu

Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli and the visiting Vice President of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, Vo Thi Anh Xuan, held a meeting at the Prime Minister's Office in Singha Durbar on Sunday.

The Vietnamese Vice President, Xuan, arrived in Nepal at the invitation of Vice President Ram Sahay Prasad Yadav on the historic occasion of the completion of 50 years of diplomatic relations between Nepal and Vietnam.

Vice President Ram Sahay Prasad Yadav and Vice President Vo Thih Anh Xuan also had a meeting earlier today.

The Vietnamese Vice President is scheduled to return home on August 25.

The Nepal Stock Exchange (NEPSE) plunged by 18. 02 points to close at 2, 739. 95 points on Sunday.

Similarly, the sensitive index dropped by 3. 06 points to close at 471. 19 points.

A total of 14,009,708-unit shares of 323 companies were traded for Rs 6. 54 billion.

Meanwhile, Bikash Hydropower Company Limited (BHCL) was the top gainer today with its price surging by 9. 99 percent. Likewise, Narayani Development Bank Limited (NABBC) was the top loser with its price dropped by 7. 29 percent.

At the end of the day, the total market capitalization stood at Rs 4. 57 trillion.

The mother and sister of Bipin Joshi met with President Ram Chandra Paudel on Sunday.

It may be recalled here that Joshi from Mahendranagar was taken hostage by the Palestinian group Hamas in the course of its attack in Israel on October 7, 2023.

With the coordination of the Nepali embassy in Israel, Bipin's mother Padma and sister Pushpa Joshi had gone to Israel and recently returned after a meeting with the President and Prime Minister there.

Bipin's mother and sister mentioned that while in Israel they had met the president, prime minister, and ambassadors from various countries, stating that this issue (Bipin's being held hostage by Hamas) has reached an international level.

They urged everyone to make further efforts for Bipin's release.

Padma urged that her son Bipin, being an innocent student, should be released on humanitarian grounds.

On the occasion, President Paudel stated that he would make further efforts for Bipin's release.

Shangri-la Sambad’s second edition featuring professors Dr Abhi Subedi and Dr Arun Gupto for a dialogue on the title “Theatrical Performances and Theories” will be held at Moksh Bar, Jhamsikhel in Lalitpur on Aug 30.

After the dialogue, a poetry recitation session will be held.

As per the organizer Shangri-la Literature Festival’s director Ken Subedi, poets Raman Ghimire, Usha Sherchan, Momila Joshi, Binod Bikram K.C., Bijay Hitan, Bishwa Sigdel, Dr. Kashiraj Pandey and Bhumika Tharu will be reciting their poems in the poetry session.

The program, which is public and can be attended by any literature enthusiast, will start from 2 pm.

A woman was found dead in a suitcase in Rautahat.

DSP Raju Karki, spokesperson at the District Police Office, Rautahat said that the deceased has been identified as Rubi Kumari Sah (35) Muzaffarpur, India.

Her parental home is at Mahadevpatti, Madhav Narayan Municipality-2 of Rautahat.

According to DSP Karki, the relatives of the deceased have identified the body. Preliminary investigation revealed that she has a son.

Sah had been living in a rented room in Madhavpatti for the past one month.

Spokesperson DSP Karki said that when the police opened the suitcase, they found Sah’s body inside with her neck wrapped in a shawl and rope.

Police suspected that she might have been murdered.

Further investigation into the incident is underway, said police.

How do I move forward when I’m consumed by the thought that I’ve wasted years of my life?

Answered by Kapil Sharma, counseling psychologist

Life is much like a tree. Storms may come—bending it, breaking branches, even tearing parts apart—but if the roots are still alive, the tree can heal, grow, and even flourish again. The scars remain, yes, but they become part of its story, not the end of it. The same applies to us. Feeling like you’ve wasted years is a deeply human emotion, often rooted in grief, regret, and disappointment.

It may stem from missed opportunities, broken relationships, or a lingering sense of being in the wrong place. These feelings are valid. They reflect pain—not the truth. But it’s important to remember: your feelings don’t define your reality, and they don’t determine your future path.

Psychologically, the feeling of having wasted years often stems from distorted thinking patterns. One common pattern is all-or-nothing thinking, where you see your life as either a complete success or a total failure, with no room for nuance. Another is social comparison—looking at others who seem to be ahead and assuming you’re behind or lacking. Unprocessed grief and regret can also contribute, leaving emotional wounds that haven’t yet found closure. Low self-compassion plays a major role too. We often treat ourselves with harsh judgment rather than the understanding we would offer a friend. 

These thought patterns can create the powerful illusion that time has been wasted. However, healing begins when you shift the narrative. Instead of saying, “I wasted years,” try saying, “I lived through years of learning.” Reflect on the strengths, skills, and insights you’ve developed—even through the pain. Practice self-forgiveness by imagining how you would respond to a friend in your situation, and extend that same kindness to yourself.

Start small: set realistic goals that help rebuild momentum, and surround yourself with a supportive environment that acknowledges your journey. And remember, healing doesn’t have to happen alone—seeking professional support is a healthy and courageous step forward.

Finally, recognize that what feels ‘wasted’ may actually be the soil for future growth. It’s not about erasing the past, but about using it—learning from it—and choosing differently now. The tree may be wounded, but it still grows.

President Donald Trump has nominated Sergio Gor, his White House personnel chief, as the next US ambassador to India, while also naming him special envoy for South and Central Asia, Reuters reported.

Announcing the decision, Trump praised Gor as “one of the most loyal and effective leaders in my administration,” crediting him with helping to fill over 95 percent of federal appointments. Gor, 38, called the nomination “the honor of my life” and pledged to strengthen ties with India.

The appointment comes at a sensitive moment, with Washington preparing to impose 50 percent tariffs on Indian goods over stalled trade talks and New Delhi’s imports of Russian oil. If confirmed by the Senate, Gor will succeed Eric Garcetti in New Delhi, says Reuters.