Submit your Article

What does marriage mean? In my teens, I used to think it was about love, companionship and family—you know, the usual run-of-the-mill clichés. 

Today, in my 20s, I am forced to search for a more meaningful definition of marriage. No, banal explanations won’t do any more. I refuse to accept that marriage is something that is bound to happen one day, that it is an indispensable part of life. 

“Aba bihe kaile garne?” (When are you getting married?), “Bhoj kaile khuwaune?” (When will you invite us for a feast?). I grew up watching my elder cousins field such questions about their marriage plans from family friends and relatives. I am sure those questions will be pointed at me one day.

While I still remain on the fence about the subject of marriage, it’s only fair that I mull the other side of the marriage coin: What does staying unmarried mean? Is it the opposite of my teenage musings? No love? No companionship? And no family?

To find out, I talked to some women who have decided to stay unmarried. 

Usha Titikshu is an atheist, queer and an independent photojournalist. She tells me marriage is not her thing.

“I never wanted to get married, go to my husband's house, have kids, buy a house for the family and all that,” Titikshu says. 

On the matter of love, the 50-year-old says she has fallen in love before and believes in love and emotional connection between two persons. It’s just the idea of marriage she doesn’t get. “Marriage was never a priority and will never be,” she says.

Rabina Tuladhar* has been with her partner for more than 12 years now. The 36-year-old doesn’t plan on getting married, ever. 

“Our love for each other is enough. We don’t have to attest our union for the sake of society,” she says.

Tuladhar tells me she comes from a broken home. Her parents divorced when she was a teenager. Perhaps her decision to remain unmarried was based on her personal experience. No matter, she is happy to find a partner who feels the same way about marriage. 

“I am extremely lucky to have someone who puts love and trust above all,” she says.

Sushila Khadgi* has a different story about her decision to remain unmarried. She is an entrepreneur with an independent outlook on life. Marriage somehow does not fit the life she has imagined for herself.    

Khadgi is 42 and single by choice. When she was in her 20s, she had the option to either agree to an arranged marriage and go to the US with her would-be-husband, or complete her master's degree in Nepal. She chose to continue her studies and build a life on her own terms.  

“I am proud of my decision,” she says “Choosing not to get married opened up a new world for me and I plan on keeping it that way.” 

Bhumika Chhetri*, watched all her sisters go to their husbands’ homes after getting married. She didn’t want to follow in their footsteps. 

The 38-year-old says she would rather stay at home taking care of her parents. 

“My friends tell me that I should find a partner, someone who is going to be by my side when I get old. But I’m not ready for a formal marriage,” Chhetri says. 

“I don’t have the desire to leave my life behind, go to someone else’s home and change my identity.”

The women I interviewed tell me they personally feel liberated— empowered even—by choosing not to get married or remain single. The only downsides they could think of are awkward interactions with relatives and being a subject of gossip. 

Tuladhar says the fact that she’s been with her partner for more than 12 years and yet they are unmarried is the subject often brought up during family gatherings. 

“The subject never gets old but it doesn’t affect me anymore,” she says. 

A common question Khadgi gets is what her husband does for a living, which she finds funny and infuriating at the same time. 

“It is a reflection of the patriarchal mindset. I’m running my own business and people still want to know what my ‘non-existent’ husband does,” she says. 

Likewise, Purnima Gautam* is a single mother of a 15-year-old son. She says that her giving birth out of wedlock is a subject of gossip for many people she knows. 

“I have reached the point where I can tune out those gossips,” she says. “Being an unmarried, single mother does not affect me.”

After listening to the stories of these women, I realize that the concept of marriage, for better or worse, is changing. Yes, there is still a stigma attached to singlehood, particularly when it comes to women. But that too will change as more women become independent and Nepali society becomes more open and accepting.

Bishnu Basyal, a lawyer with an extensive knowledge on women rights, says modern Nepali women are challenging old stereotypes about marriage. 

“A woman is not her marital status. Even the Supreme Court identifies the rights of women who chose to stay single all their life. They can even adopt a child if they want to after the age of 45,” she says. 

So at the end of the day, it depends on individuals how they want to live their lives—in or out of wedlock. It is empowering to see women breaking the marriage stereotypes.

And if you ask me, marriage is a choice, not a compulsion.

(*Some names in the article have been changed for privacy purposes)

On 12 February 2021, Anshu Khanal was the centerpiece of a symbolic rally held in Kathmandu to protest violence against women.

Laid down supine on a stretcher, a yellow cloth draped over her body, Khanal was carried from Basantapur to Singha Durbar in the rally attended by hundreds of people. Khanal’s ‘dead body’ represented the girls and women who had been raped and murdered but never got justice. The rally, dubbed ‘Women’s March’, had been instigated by the rape and murder of a 17-year-old schoolgirl in Baitadi district a week ago. 

“At that moment, I was thinking about the suffering and pain the victims of rape and violence must go through,” says 22-year-old Khanal.

Images of Khanal being paraded on the streets of Kathmandu as a dead body struck a chord with many and garnered much media coverage.

While the rally brought Khanal to press and public attention, it was not the first time she had taken part in a demonstration. She has in fact long been a fixture of rallies for women’s rights and justice.  

Born in a small village of Aarupokhari in Gorkha district, Khanal says she was a sickly but rebellious child. 

“My parents had three daughters. Growing up, I witnessed villagers telling my parents to have a son, and that bothered me a lot. I didn’t understand why,” she says. “I think the feeling that I was somehow less important than a boy turned me into a rebel.” 

Khanal wanted to prove to her villagers that she was as capable and competent as any boy.    

When she moved to Dhading Besi in Dhading district to complete her high school, Khanal truly learned what it is to be a woman. She was exposed to a whole different circle of friends and people from different communities and found out the true extent of violence and injustice women and girls encounter.

“Until then I had only known of the preference of sons over daughters as gender inequality, but I was wrong. There were so many things that needed to be addressed,” says Khanal.   

She then started expressing her feelings and frustrations through social media platforms like Twitter and Instagram. 

In 2018, Khanal came to Kathmandu for higher studies and enrolled in a bachelor’s degree program in Psychology and Social Works at Padma Kanya Campus, Bagbazar. While in the capital city, she saw many student protests happening all around for different causes but never thought that she would ever participate in one. 

“I used to get scared when I saw p0lice arrest the people I knew. There was also the fear of my parents. What would they say if they found out their daughter was protesting in Kathmandu?” Khanal says.

But she could also not watch from the sidelines amid fast-multiplying incidents of violence and injustice against girls and women. Khanal wanted to find a more creative and artistic way to express dissent.

Around this time, she met her now-husband Rashik Raj and they formed a small group of writers and performance artists, called Aabha for Creativity. Initially the group was only involved in activities related to arts and literature. But with so many injustices happening in the society, Khanal says they were forced to take up social causes.

“We also wanted to protest in a more creative way, to bring an element of art to it,” she says.

Gender-based inequality and violence was one issue that Khanal wanted to address, so Aabha for Creativity started taking their art to the streets. 

In her first-ever protest, Khanal recited a poem in front of a crowd.

“It was then I realized that every individual voice counts and my voice is important too,” she says of that experience.

Khanal was deeply affected by the 2018 rape and murder of Nirmala Pant in Kanchanpur and enacted a symbolic play against the heinous crime at Basantapur.

Khanal has continued to express herself against violence and injustice against women since, be it in the form of poetry or street drama.

“I’ve never been good at bottling up my feelings,” she says. And she doesn’t plan on starting now.

The Women’s March rally was one of the most important and difficult things she has done. It brought her attention, but not all positive. She had to deal with a series of online abuses after the rally.

Khanal says the barrage of online abuses didn’t faze her as she believes in her causes and she has friends and family members who support her.  

“I have seen the conservative views of my own friends and relatives change because of my protests,” she says. “That is deeply satisfying. But so long as there is violence against women I won’t stop fighting against it.”

Khem Prasad Prasai must be one of the most loved teachers at St. Xavier’s College, Maitighar.

Born and raised in a poor farming family in Haldibari, Jhapa, his childhood memory is of penury and privation. The only thing that brought him joy as a young boy, he tells ApEX, was reading.

“I used to have a book or a newspaper with me even while I was plowing the field,” says Prasai, now 42, as we enter an empty classroom to sit and talk. “Reading was my only escape.” 

Prasai used to sell pumpkin leaves in the market so that he could buy books and newspapers with the money he earned.

Early on in his life, poverty had taught him to be enterprising and fend for himself. He sold sweets and snacks to pay for his high school tuition. For college, he managed money by selling detergent powder.

“I grew up reading Nepali literature and newspapers, so I got my BA with Nepali and journalism as my majors,” he says. “I also briefly worked in a newspaper, but soon realized that journalism was not something I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

In the early 2000s, Prasai moved to Kathmandu to get his Master’s degree. Until then he had never been to the capital city. When he arrived, he says, the only things in his possession were a sack of rice, some clothes, and a little money. But he had a big dream: turning his life around.    

He enrolled in Tribhuvan University’s Master’s program in Nepali. In order to pay for his studies and expenses, he now started selling tea leaves.

“I still remember my days of struggle, walking around with containers of tea on the streets of Kalimati and Kirtipur,” Prasai says. “At one time, I was also selling lecture notes to cover my expenses.”

Prasai got his Master’s degree in 2005, and soon after was hired by a college as a Nepali teacher. He taught there for two years before joining St. Xavier’s—he was well on his way to starting the life he had envisioned.

“I have been teaching at St. Xavier’s for 14 years now and I couldn’t be happier,” he says.

His students, who refer to him as Khem sir, say he is an exceptional teacher with an uncanny ability to explain the lessons in ever-so-interesting and clear ways.

“It is because of his teaching that my grades in Nepali have improved,” says Priyanka Regmi, one of his plus two students. “He has this uncanny way of explaining things by connecting them to our daily lives.” 

Prabhav Madip Baniya, a St. Xavier alumnus-turned-teacher, says he developed an interest in Nepali literature because he had Prasai as his Nepali teacher.  

“I wasn’t into Nepali literature until Khem sir taught me. His class helped me truly understand and appreciate Nepali literature,” he says.

As a colleague, Baniya finds Prasai humble and approachable, just like he is with his students. 

“Khem sir always has right things to say to change our views,” says Kritika Bhandari, another student of Prasai. “He is a wellspring of wisdom. I go to him whenever I feel demotivated or discouraged.”

Soniya Bhetuwal echoes Bhadari’s sentiment. “Khem sir doesn’t just prepare us for exams, he prepares us for life,” she says.

Apart from teaching, Prasai is also interested in business and investment. He has made a small fortune by trading stocks. A part of the money he has thus made, he has invested in a tea farm that he owns with his brothers. Today, Prasai and his brothers run three factories in Jhapa—plus the tea farm.

But despite his financial success, Prasai still wants to teach. He says teaching is his true calling.  

“Being a teacher gives me true joy. It is the one field where I can give my hundred percent,” he says. “As a teacher, I feel like I am only imparting knowledge to the younger generation, but also sharing my old joy of reading.”

Prasai has a curious disposition, a trait that he perhaps developed as a young boy who read voraciously. He is always learning new things. He is currently studying law and will soon be earning a degree in the discipline.

“I was always fascinated with the subject but hadn’t had the opportunity to study it deeply,” he says. “I want to see what I can learn from it and maybe teach some of it to my students.”

He believes sharing knowledge is life’s purpose.

“I believe in a teaching life,” Prasai says. “I get to interact with young and curious minds and teach them everything I’ve learned. It’s a beautiful feeling.”

Born: 23 June 1934, Barbote, Ilam

Death: 15 February 2022, Chabahil, Kathmandu

Taranath Sharma, a renowned essayist, novelist and literary critic, died on 15 February. He was 87. In his lifetime, Sharma published over 100 books, in the process winning several literary awards including the prestigious Madan Puraskar.      

He is credited with starting the literary movement called ‘Jharro Nepali’ that advocated the originality and purity of Nepali language.

Sharma was born in Barbote, Ilam, on 23 June 1934. He learned to read and write on the lawn of his house, where a teacher from the neighborhood used to gather local children and teach them alphabets. When Sharma was nine, his family moved to Fikkal, where he studied in an English medium school opened by his father. He then completed his Grade 10 and an IA course in Darjeeling, India.

It was in Darjeeling that Sharma met Nepali writers like Paras Mani Pradhan, Shiva Kumar Rai and Rup Narayan Singh. Inspired by their works, he too wanted to become a writer.

His aspiration of becoming a writer was further cemented when he came across celebrated Nepali dramatist Balkrishna Sama in Varanasi, India, where he had gone to get his bachelor’s degree in 1959.

Sharma and Sama bonded over their shared love of Nepali language and, together, started the Jharro Nepali movement.

The duo also collaborated to publish a newspaper called ‘Naula Nepal’ from Varanasi. The paper, in which Sharma served as the editor-in-chief, ran for two years. 

After completing his studies in Varanasi, Sharma went to Patna on a government scholarship to get a master’s degree in English. Sharma returned to Nepal after his studies and started teaching at Tribhuvan University in Kirtipur as a professor in English. He also taught in other colleges like Padma Kanya Campus.

Sharma later got his Ph.D. in Linguistics from the University of Wisconsin in Madison, United States.

His first book ‘Namaste’ was published in 1962. However, he gained fame as a writer for his criticism of a poem penned by king Mahendra, a lese majeste that led to his imprisonment. He wrote  ‘Ojhel Parda’, a translation of ‘Blackout’ by Larry Hartsell, while in prison in 1966.

Interestingly, Sharma was later commissioned to write ‘Mahendra Mala’, Nepali textbooks for Grades 9 and 10 named after king Mahendra. 

Many also consider Sharma a pioneer in Nepali travelog. His travelog ‘Belayat Tira Baralinda’, inspired by his trip to England, won the Madan Puraskar in 1969.

He also received the Sajha Puraskar for his book ‘Sama ra Sama ka Kriti’ (1972). In 1982, he was honored with the Sarwashretha Pathyapustak Lekhan Puraskar.

Besides teaching and writing, Sharma also worked as a journalist for a time, including as the editor-in-chief of The Rising Nepal, the state-owned English daily.

He edited ‘Naaso’, a book by Guru Prasad Mainali, and helped it in its publication. Sharma is also credited for the publication of Gopal Prasad Rimal’s ‘Aama ko Sapana’.

Recently, Sharma had been suffering from dementia, diabetes, high blood pressure, and heart problems. He passed away on the morning of 15 February at his home in Chabahil, Kathmandu. He is survived by his wife and two sons.

Box

Famous literary works:

Ojhel Parda (1966)

Mero Katha (1967)

Belayat Tira Baralinda (1969))

Samasamayik Sajha Kabita (1983)

Patal Pravas (1985)

Selected Nepali Poems (1999)

Namaste (1961)

Jamarkaaharu(1968)

Suli (1973)

Jeevan Chhaal (1973)

Jhaljhalko (1988)

Nepal Dekhi America Samma (1992)

Paras Mani Jirel grew up tinkering with electronic devices. When he was still a boy, he used to take them apart to inspect inside. The intricate world of the circuit board fascinated him– its many interconnected lines, tiny solder bumps, diodes, registers and transistors.

“With time and a lot of mistakes, I figured out the science behind how those devices operated,” says Jirel, who today builds and sells his own guitar amplifiers.

The story of Jirel Electronics started back in 2014. Jirel was in his teens and, like many other boys of his age, he wanted to be a guitarist. But he could not afford a guitar amp. So he decided to build one for himself.      

“I was used to experimenting with electronics for years, so I decided to build my own guitar amp from scratch,” says Jirel.

After building an amp using locally available components, Jirel thought he could make a business out of it. His first handmade amp became the prototype for his future products.

“I wanted to build affordable guitar amps with good sound quality,” says Jirel.    

He started exploring the market to learn about the availability and pricing of components required to make guitar amps.

Jirel began selling his homemade guitar amps in 2017. As business grew, he rented a workspace from where the company is currently operating. Besides amps, Jirel Electronics these days also makes guitar effect pedals, speakers and bluetooth speakers.

The market for locally made guitar amps or any other musical instruments for that matter is still small. This, Jirel says, is because most consumers are still attracted to imported products. 

Nepal imported US$907.89 million worth of electrical and electronic equipment during 2019, according to the United Nations COMTRADE database on international trade.

If Nepal were to manufacture basic electronic components, a company like Jirel’s could make and sell products at much cheaper rates. Moreover, the country could have more companies manufacturing various electronic goods. 

When Jirel started his business, his intent was to build, promote and sell locally made products.

“I managed to turn my passion into a full-time job,” he says. With some government support for local brands and products, the country could have more success stories like Jirel’s.

Balika Thapaliya is preparing to publish her sixth book. While caring for her in-laws, both in their 80s, and a seven-year-old son at a small village in Deumai Municipality of Ilam district, she has already managed to produce a staggering volume of work. She has so far written more than 3,000 poems and lyrics and translated biographies of several renowned world figures.

Born and raised in a rural village in Terhathum district, Thapaliya started writing poems from an early age. She says it was her father, also a poet and a literary scholar, who encouraged her and her siblings to write a poem. At nine she wrote a poem ‘Mero Desh Nepal’ and her pen hasn’t stopped since.

“I grew up watching and learning from my father. With so many books in the house, I developed an interest in reading from a young age,” says Thapaliya. “My father used to talk a lot about writers and their literary works, so I slowly became attracted to their work.”

In 1997, her first poem was published in Kanchenjunga, a local newspaper of Ilam at the time. She was 12 then. As a teenager, all Thapaliya did in her free time was write poems.

“Writing soon became an unconscious habit,” she says.

She used to take part in school poetry competitions and her poems were regularly published in local papers and magazines. By the time she was 17, Thapaliya says, she had already written over 1,700 poems.

As a little girl, she mostly wrote about her love for the country and nature. But with time, her writings were influenced by the events in her life and human conditions like death, poverty and struggle.

Shankar Lamichhane, Parijat, William Shakespeare and William Wordsworth are among the writers that have inspired her the most.

Thapaliya moved to Ilam after getting married at the age of 20. Her husband is a journalist, so she was never separated from the world of words and letters even after her marriage.

Thapaliya then got her master’s degree in English literature from Tribhuvan University, Kathmandu.

Before publishing her first book, she wrote columns and articles for various newspapers.

“I wanted to become famous by writing for newspapers before publishing my book,” she says.

In 2013, Nelson Madela, her first Nepali-translated biography, got published. She says she wanted to introduce the book to the Nepali people so that they, just like her, could be inspired by Mandela. Thapaliya went on to publish other translated biographies of Abraham Lincoln, Helen Keller and Florence Nightingale.

Her upcoming book is yet another biography of Nicholas James Vujicic, an Australian American motivational speaker who was born with tetra-amelia syndrome.

“I want to inspire people by presenting the stories of those who have in turn inspired me,” says Thapaliya of her extensive biographical works. “I want to share the struggles of some of the greatest personalities, their moments of failure, and how they overcame them”.

Her original works include ‘Pranayapath’ (a poetry book) and ‘Priyadarshan’ (a collection of love letters). Thapaliya says it took her 17 years to come up with Priyadarshan.

“The book is close to my heart. The perfectionist inside me edited it for 17 years before presenting it to the world,” she says.

Thapaliya, whose love for writing started with poetry, says she writes a little bit of everything these days, from fiction, book reviews to essays.

“I write on issues that resonate with me,” she says.

Having to take care of her family all day, Thapaliya says she finds the time to write at night. She says her familial responsibilities have never hindered her writing.

“It is because of my family that I have come this far,” she says.

Thapaliya is also involved with Karuna Foundation, an NGO that works for persons with disabilities. But she says writing is what she loves most.

“I want to explore other forms”, she says. “I now want to try philosophical and narrative writings.”

She is also planning to translate some Nepali books into English so that they can reach a wider global audience.

Currently, Thapaliya is working on more biographies and another book of poetry.

“I have been writing for more than 26 years now. I want my works to motivate and comfort my readers,” she says. “If they do, I consider my purpose as a writer fulfilled.”

The problem of waste pollution in cities like Kathmandu is inescapable. 

According to the Waste Management Baseline Survey of Nepal 2020, 33.3 percent of the total waste produced in cities and municipalities are inorganic–plastic, glass, rubber, metals, etc. 

Strikingly, only half of this waste is recycled. 

Deego Nepal was born of the idea of putting everyday non-recycled waste materials to a sustainable use. The company makes and sells affordable eco-friendly daily lifestyle products out of discarded waste products.

“We offer our clients the option of living sustainably and contributing to the solution of the plastic waste problem,” says Anjana Malla, who co-founded Deego along with Rajani Gurung and Mahalaxmi Shrestha. 

The company started in early 2020 with the intent of creating an environment-friendly and socially-impactful brand. 

The three women started with a modest investment of Rs 31,000. In early days, they experimented with different products and studied what the consumers wanted.

“We wanted to create something unique that the mainstream market hadn’t seen before,” says Malla. 

As Deego started selling its products, its co-founders got a better understanding of  customer needs and investment venues. 

For instance, their dishwashing sponge and body scrub made from the loofah plant were an instant hit.  

Deego also started collaborating with women from the indigenous Tharu community in Bardiya district.  With locally available resources, these women have incorporated their indigenous craftsmanship and modern designs to create various products like bread- and fruit-baskets. 

Within a short time, Deego’s product range has expanded – and so has the company’s team. Today, Deego has its own team of artists, embroiderers and sewing experts: 13 full-time employees in all.  

By providing sustainable eco-friendly lifestyle products, Deego is teaching people the importance of being environmentally conscious. “Our aim is to promote a green lifestyle not through big lifestyle changes but through small steps,” says Malla. 

Deego mostly sells products through social media platforms, and on Saturdays, sets up kiosks at farmers’ markets, malls and cafes in different parts of Kathmandu Valley. 

The team has plans of upscaling production as its consumer base is expanding.

“We want to multiply our resources and production based on the demand,” says Malla. “But sustainable, environment-friendly living will always be the focus  of our products.” 

The company is proud of having played a part in the creation of environmentally-aware and socially-responsible customers.

“It is impossible to suddenly switch to a 100 percent sustainable life,” Malla says. “But we can contribute a lot to our environment just by making small changes. A small step is all it takes.”

Deego Nepal

Establish year: 2020
Co-founders: Anjana Malla, Rajani Gurung, Mahalaxmi Shrestha
Service location: All over Nepal
Price of product: Loofah Round scrubber: Rs 290, Dishwashing sponge: Rs 60, Rotibasket: Rs 970, Fruit basket ranges: from Rs 675 to Rs 1650, Mask: Rs 180/200, Tote bag: Rs 760/1250, 
Contact: 9849835559
Social media link: https://www.instagram.com/deego_nepal/ 

The brainchild of Rakesh Kumar Burnawal who wanted to create jobs for stay-at-home women, SR Tiffin Point is a lunch delivery service that prepares, packs, and delivers homemade food to offices and schools in Birgunj of Madhesh province.

Burnawal says he conceived of the idea after finding from his wife that many housewives in their neighborhood wanted to work.

“Women in my neighborhood were more or less confined to doing household work. But besides taking care of their families, they wanted to make some money too,” says Burnawal. 

One skill all these women had in common was cooking. So Burnawal came up with the idea of starting a lunch service.

In 2019, he gathered a small team to put his idea into action. In fact, SR Tiffin started with two women cooking lunch for two clients.

Burnawal had done market research before starting the service and knew the business would eventually catch on.  

“Office workers wanted affordable homemade meals and there was no such service in Birgunj at the time,” he says. “The service would also help many working parents who could not prepare lunch for their children in the morning.”

Within six months SR Tiffin was catering to a large number of clients. Burnawal says the popularity of the business was all word of mouth. These days the company delivers lunch to around 200 clients a day. 

“We currently have 10-12 women actively working for the company. Each can prepare 30 to 40 lunches in a day,” says Burnawal.

The company has also trained around 300 women since its inception. SR Tiffin hires them depending on the number of orders.

According to Burnawal, SR Tiffin’s client base has witnessed a sharp decline since schools shut down owing to covid threats. 

“Once this pandemic blows over and things return to normal, we will be able to deliver more than 1,000 tiffins a day,” he says.

To avail the lunch service, all that customers have to do is provide details like their address and the number of days they want their lunch delivered and at what time. The lunch menu, whose price ranges from Rs 60 to Rs 100, changes every month. 

“As this is a business run from home kitchens, there are no rental expenses. A worker can easily earn at least Rs 10,000 a month,” says Burnawal. 

SR Tiffin team members are hopeful and already planning to expand the company’s service to other parts of the country. The company is also thinking of introducing homemade food vending machines to offer grab-and-go lunch.  

“SR Tiffin started with the objective of empowering local women and thanks to them it has turned into a successful enterprise,” Burnawal says. 

SR Tiffin Point

Establish year: 2019

Founder: Rakesh Kumar Burnawal

Service location: Birgunj 

Price of the product: Varies depending on menu

Contact: 9801569978

Social media link: https://www.facebook.com/srtiffinpointbrj/