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From a distance, the Himalayas appear eternal—majestic peaks piercing the sky, shrouded in snow and silence. But beneath their postcard perfection lies a truth far more unsettling. The Himalayas are changing—rapidly, dangerously, and perhaps irreversibly.

As glaciers melt, ecosystems shift, and traditional climbing routes become unstable, Nepal’s mountaineering industry—a vital pillar of its economy and identity—now teeters at a precarious crossroads.

At the recent Sagarmatha Sambaad, the theme “Climate Change, Mountains, and the Future of Humanity” cast a grim spotlight on the rapidly evolving crisis. Nepal’s Minister for Forests and Environment, Ain Bahadur Shahi Thakuri, said,“These mountains are now on the frontline of a rapidly intensifying climate emergency.”

Often called the “Third Pole,” the Himalayas house the largest volume of ice outside the Arctic and Antarctic. This frozen reserve—Earth’s cryosphere—feeds the rivers that sustain nearly two billion people across South Asia. Yet, as global temperatures rise, this critical water source is vanishing. A recent study showed that glaciers in the eastern Himalayas are retreating at an alarming rate. 

“What begins in the mountains ripples downstream,” Thakuri warned. “The fate of humanity is intertwined with the fate of these mountains.” Every spring, hundreds of climbers descend on Nepal with one ambition: to conquer Sagarmatha, the world’s highest peak. For many, summiting Sagarmatha is the ultimate badge of honor, a feat of endurance and courage. For Nepal, it’s also a crucial economic engine. In the spring 2025 season alone, the government issued climbing permits to 456 climbers from 57 countries, generating over Rs 676m in royalties from Sagarmatha. The total revenue from 26 peaks, including Lhotse, Makalu, and Annapurna, exceeded Rs 773m.

But Sagarmatha is changing, and not just in popularity. The Khumbu Glacier—home to the iconic base camp—is retreating by more than a meter every year. A 2022 scientific assessment even recommended relocating the base camp due to the increasing instability of the ice. Crevasses now open earlier in the season. The “death zone,” already perilous, is now compounded by unpredictable weather patterns and melting permafrost. The mountain is no longer what it once was—neither in form nor in spirit.

For many climbers, Sagarmatha no longer symbolizes adventure, but excess. The commercialization of the climb has led to an influx of “tourist climbers”—individuals who may lack adequate experience or preparation but are eager to reach the summit, often at any cost.

Nepal’s current mountaineering policy allows anyone to climb Sagarmatha analyzing their physical or technical ability. The only formal requirement is that climbers must climb 7,000 meters mountain before climbing Sagarmatha. However, in practice, enforcement is often lax, and underprepared climbers continue to receive permits.

In spring 2025, over 1,100 climbing permits were issued. The infamous 2019 photo of a human queue snaking toward the summit remains etched in public memory. “The mountain is littered with garbage, human waste, and even the bodies of those who never made it down,” says Purnima Shrestha, a renowned Nepali climber and photojournalist. “Not all the people there are physically and emotionally ready to climb the peak. That is being disrespectful to Sagarmatha.”

From 1950 to 2023, at least 353 climbers died on Sagarmatha. The deadliest years—2023 (18 deaths), 2014 (17), and 1996 (15)—were marked by avalanches, collapsing icefalls, and extreme weather events. All are exacerbated by climate change, according to Himalayan Database.

Avalanches have claimed 78 lives, falls have taken 75, and altitude sickness has led to 46 deaths. The cost of rescue missions is escalating. So are insurance premiums and operational logistics. Many Sherpas now refuse certain routes that were once considered routine. “We are playing roulette with nature,” says Pasang Sherpa, a senior guide who has summited Sagarmatha nine times. “There are places we used to trust that we now fear.”

Renowned mountaineer and Guinness World Record holder Mingma David Sherpa stressed the urgent need for better regulation and preparedness in high-altitude climbing. “Climbers must have technical knowledge before attempting any major ascent,” he said. “Only those with prior high-altitude experience should be granted permission to climb.”

While the risks are growing, so are the innovations to address them. One notable development this season is the use of xenon gas treatments to aid climbers in coping with altitude sickness. Furtenbach Adventures, a high-end expedition company, introduced the method after months of training and hypoxia acclimatization in Europe.

“The only reason why we are working with xenon is to make climbing safer, to protect climbers from high altitude sickness,” said company founder Lukas Furtenbach upon his return to Kathmandu. “This may be one step to improve the situation to make climbing high altitude mountains safer.” While the treatment was administered in Germany before the expedition, Nepal’s mountaineering authorities have launched an inquiry into its use to ensure climber safety and ethical standards.

“We are committed to protecting the natural beauty of our peaks and helping local communities grow alongside the spirit of adventure,” said Nepal’s Tourism Minister Badri Prasad Pandey. But he added that regulation must evolve alongside the industry.

Meanwhile, initiatives to improve mountain sustainability have struggled to move beyond discussion. One such proposal, presented by ICIMOD, suggested that each major mountain be given a “one-year rest” period to recover from the environmental toll of human activity—including waste, overuse, and trail degradation. But despite its strong focus on pollution control and garbage management, the idea remains stalled at the discussion level, with no concrete implementation to date.

Dipendra Gurung, communication officer at the Nepal Mountaineering Association (NMA), shared concerns about the current state of mountain waste management. “Garbage management was previously handled entirely by the NMA,” he said. “But over the past two years, Nepal Army has taken responsibility.” However, this year, their involvement hasn’t been visible either.”

Gurung explained the logistical and financial challenges involved. “It takes a significant amount of funding to carry out proper cleanup operations. We are doing what we can with limited resources, but bringing all the waste—and in some cases, even dead bodies—down to lower altitudes is extremely difficult.”

Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee (SPCC), a local organization based in the Khumbu region, plays a key role in managing waste generated by climbers. The SPCC monitors how much garbage each expedition team takes up the mountain and ensures that an equivalent amount is brought back down. If climbers return with less waste than they were registered to carry, they are fined according to the committee’s waste management policy. This system is designed to discourage dumping and promote accountability on the mountain.

Nepal’s economy leans heavily on tourism, particularly mountaineering and trekking. Thousands of porters, guides, hoteliers, and service workers depend on seasonal climbing income. But with increasing climate volatility, the very bedrock of this industry is cracking.

Glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) pose a catastrophic threat. One such flood could wipe out entire villages, bridges, and key trekking routes. The infrastructure built over decades could vanish in minutes. And yet, Nepal remains one of the world’s lowest carbon emitters—contributing just 0.57 tons of CO₂ per capita in 2023, far below the global average of 6.76. Despite this, it bears a disproportionate brunt of climate impacts.

Nepal is not watching this disaster unfold passively. Through frameworks like the National Adaptation Plan (NAP) and Local Adaptation Plans of Action (LAPAs), the government is empowering grassroots efforts—especially among women and Indigenous groups who have long been custodians of mountain ecology.

Community forestry programs have flourished. Women’s cooperatives are promoting climate-smart agriculture. Young entrepreneurs are designing eco-lodges, clean trekking initiatives, and sustainable tourism models that merge tradition with innovation.

One such effort is “Clean Himalaya,” a Sherpa-led waste collection campaign that retrieves several tons of garbage from Sagarmatha each year. Another is “Green Peak,” a startup that offers biodegradable gear to reduce mountaineering’s environmental footprint.

The Himalayas have long been more than just a geographic landmark. They are the spine of Asia, the source of sacred rivers, the abode of gods, and the mirror of our planetary health. The melting of these mountains is not a distant problem. It demands global cooperation, corporate responsibility, and individual restraint. The mountain economy must be reimagined—not just for profit, but for preservation.

Unpredictable weather marked by intense heat and sudden rainfall has increased the risk of spread of communicable diseases like dengue and malaria, health experts warn. This year’s rainfall is expected to be heavier than usual, which could intensify the spread of mosquito-borne illnesses, particularly dengue.

Dengue fever is a viral illness transmitted through the bite of an infected mosquito, specifically one carrying the dengue virus (DENV). The illness is most prevalent in tropical and subtropical regions, including parts of Asia, Central and South America, Africa, and the Pacific Islands. With the anticipated rise in rainfall, health authorities are urging the public to take preventive measures to avoid a potential outbreak.

This year the monsoon is expected to arrive in the third week of June, and the rainfall is estimated to be 5 percent above average. Eastern Nepal (Mechi, Koshi, Sagarmatha) is expected to receive 5–10 percent more rainfall, central Nepal (Janakpur, Bagmati, Narayani, Gandaki, and Lumbini) 4–6 percent more, and western and far-western regions are expected to receive average rainfall.

According to the World Health Organization, every year around 100–400m people get infected by Dengue from all around the world. In 2022, Nepal saw one of its worst dengue outbreaks in history: 52,557 confirmed cases and 60 deaths, according to official government statistics. While numbers dropped in 2024, the Epidemiology and Disease Control Division (EDCD) reported 34,385 cases and 13 deaths, affecting 76 districts across the country.

Since the first reported case of dengue in Nepal in 2004, the number of infections has been steadily increasing each year. To combat this growing health threat, early detection, diagnosis, management, and reporting have become essential. A regular surveillance and monitoring system has been implemented through an early warning and reporting mechanism.

Mosquito surveillance is also being strengthened through integrated vector management strategies. Integrated Vector Management (IVM) is a strategic approach to controlling vectors that transmit diseases like malaria, dengue, and Zika. It combines various control methods, including biological, chemical, environmental, and public health education, to optimize resource use and achieve sustainable vector control.

To support timely diagnosis, dengue rapid test kits have been made available free of charge at government health institutions. Furthermore, a comprehensive dengue prevention and control action plan has been approved and published by the EDCD on the occasion of World Neglected Tropical Diseases Day 2025.

Dr Sher Bahadur Pun, chief of the Clinical Research Unit at Sukraraj Tropical and Infectious Disease Hospital said: “Dengue might break out at any time during the monsoon season. One should take necessary precautions and the authorities concerned should have a good preparedness plan to stop the outbreak.”

To prevent dengue, it is important to take both personal and environmental precautions. Personal protection methods include using mosquito repellents, electronic mosquito-killing machines, mosquito nets and electric bats. Maintaining a clean and hygienic environment is equally important.

Dr Pun emphasized that while using items like above can help prevent mosquito bites, people should not rely solely on them. “These methods only deter mosquitoes temporarily and do not eliminate them,” he said, stressing the need for long-term preventive measures, such as maintaining cleanliness and preventing water stagnation in and around homes that serve as a breeding ground for mosquitoes. 

Province wise Dengue Cases (January-December 2024)

Source: Epidemiology and Disease control Division (EDCD)

When the skies opened last year, Nepal wasn’t ready. Heavy rain washed away roads and homes, and triggered landslides in many parts of the country. Main highways were rendered impassable, leaving passengers stranded for hours. The Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) has warned that this year’s monsoon is expected to bring heavier-than-normal rainfall across Nepal. 

According to meteorologist Ujjwal Upadhaya, pre-monsoon rainfall from May to mid-June this year is expected to be average but if the heat intensifies, there will be rainfall across the country, especially in the hilly regions. 

Generally, in the first week of May, a low-pressure system activates throughout the country, bringing light rainfall, helping keep the temperatures from rising significantly. During the second and third weeks (May 7–20), the rainfall system weakens, resulting in a rise in temperature, and in the fourth week, rainfall will return, helping control the heat. 

“The first and second weeks of June are expected to bring a mix of heat and rain, especially in the hilly areas. However, in the Tarai region, rainfall will be low, and the heat will be intense,” said Upadhaya. This year the monsoon is expected to arrive in the third week of June, and the rainfall is estimated to be 5 percent above average. Eastern Nepal (Mechi, Koshi, Sagarmatha) is expected to receive 5–10 percent more rainfall, central Nepal (Janakpur, Bagmati, Narayani, Gandaki, and Lumbini) 4–6 percent more, and western and far-western regions are expected to receive average rainfall. 

As the areas that were damaged by floods and landslides last year are yet to be reconstructed, they remain at risk of further damage. It is crucial that the concerned authorities pay due attention.

Communities at risk

For many there is no escaping the devastation that monsoon brings year after year. Ask Priyanka Devi, a resident of Jagati, Bhaktapur. Every monsoon her family-run scrap warehouse gets flooded by the nearby Hanumante river. “Over time the water level in the river has risen to the point that it is now almost level with the road,” said Devi.

The family has installed a makeshift barrier to protect their warehouse from flooding, but they are not sure if the structure will hold. “We hope the rains don’t get worse this year,” added Devi.

For Salina Tamang, a resident of Suryabinayak, last year’s monsoon was a painful experience when floodwaters entered her store. Locals have expanded the river’s width to stop it from breaching the banks, but Tamang remains cautious.  “I just hope it won’t be bad this time,” she said.  

But Durga Gurung doubts the flood prevention measures launched by the locals will work. “Water levels here can rise as high as six feet. The only way to stay safe is to clear the ground floor and move upstairs until the floodwaters recede,” she said.

The country’s highways are equally vulnerable to monsoon-related disasters. BP Highway and Prithvi Highway—two vital roads linking Kathmandu to the rest of the country—suffered severe damage during last year’s monsoon. While the Department of Roads (DoR) claims that restoration efforts are ongoing, significant challenges remain.

Unsafe highways 

The BP Highway (Banepa-Sindhuli-Bardibas), in particular, has seen little progress. Nearly five months after devastating floods and landslides from the Roshi Khola and Sunkoshi rivers hit the Khurkot-Dhulikhel section, reconstruction work has yet to gather pace. Temporary tracks and diversions have been built to allow passage of vehicles, but they could be destroyed in an event of heavy rainfall. This highway is a vital corridor, handling more than 10,000 vehicles daily and serving as the fastest connection between eastern Nepal, the central Tarai, and Kathmandu. 

Rajan Dahal, a lawmaker from Sindhuli, has urged the government to build a durable alternative route before the monsoon arrives.  

Arjun Prasad Aryal, deputy director general at the Department of Roads, said that temporary restoration work on the BP Highway is progressing and is expected to be completed by June. As for restoring the damaged highway sections, he said the department is still in the process of finalizing the contractor.  Regarding the Prithvi Highway, Aryal said that the repair works are progressing alongside the highway widening project from Mugling to Pokhara. “Construction is ongoing without interruption, and we plan to continue the work even during the rainy season,” he said.

For the safety of passengers, the government is also planning to issue travel restrictions along the flood- and landslide-prone areas. 

Relief and preparedness 

Ram Bahadur KC, spokesperson and Information Officer at the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA), said that families affected by the monsoon-related disasters have already received government aid. He also noted that reconstruction and relief efforts are still underway in several areas.
As for preparedness, he said the government will soon come up with the National Disaster Risk Reduction Framework.  “We are also identifying vulnerable communities, where we plan to run safety and awareness campaigns tailored to their needs and concerns,” said KC. He also added that the Ministry of Home Affairs (MoHA) has also been coordinating with the Armed Police Force and local governments to conduct disaster response drills and strengthen safety and preparedness.

Highlighting the growing role of technology in disaster preparedness, KC said that early warning systems have been installed in 49 locations across the country. “These systems can make a real difference. We saw fewer casualties last monsoon because of the warning systems,” he said.

According to the Nepal Disaster Risk Reduction Portal (DRR), floods have already affected 62 families between April and 7 May this year. As the country braces for impact, experts say individuals must also prepare. They recommend preparing an emergency kit with essentials such as flashlights, batteries, medicine, dry food, drinking water, and first-aid supplies. Avoiding risk-prone areas, like riverbanks, hillsides, and active construction sites, and checking the road road condition before traveling can also save lives. This year’s monsoon will be a test of our infrastructure, our preparedness, and our collective resolve to learn from past failures.

Labor Day is a celebration of workers’ contributions across the world. But for millions of women—especially in developing countries like Nepal—it serves as a bittersweet reminder: despite working just as hard, women continue to earn significantly less than their male colleagues. According to the Nepal Labor Force Survey (2022), women earn about 23 percent less than men on average, even when performing similar roles.

In Nepal, women not only face lower wages but also encounter insecure job conditions such as lack of benefits, and limited promotion opportunities. Even when legal protections exist, the realities on the ground tell a different story.

Every morning Sunmaya Lama (33) from Kavrepalanchok, goes to build homes for others. “I came here three years ago,” she says, her hands calloused from hauling bricks and mixing cement. “There weren’t many opportunities back home. At least here, I can earn something for myself and my parents back home.”

Lama works as a daily wage laborer, but her labor comes at a cost. Despite doing the same heavy lifting and physical work as her male coworkers, she earns slightly less. “They say the men are stronger, so they get more,” she explains. “But we carry the same weight, work the same hours.”

Her words reflect a broader problem faced by many women in the construction sector: lack of formal contracts, unequal pay, and limited access to healthcare or workers’ rights. Her dream is simple. “I don’t want to do this forever,” she says. “Maybe one day I can open a small tea shop.”

For the past year, Bikram Yonjan has been working on construction sites across Kathmandu—stacking bricks, mixing cement, and carrying loads. But alongside the sweat and struggle, Yonjan carries something else: respect for his female co-workers.

“When I first started, I didn’t think much about it,” says the 45-year-old from Dolakha. “But then I saw how hard the women here work—just as hard as us. And still, they get paid less.”

Yonjan, who fought hard to even secure his own daily wage when he started, says the pay gap didn’t sit right with him. “I had to argue with the contractor at first just to get fair wages. I know how that feels.”

While he now earns a bit more than the female laborers he admits it doesn’t feel entirely fair. “We do the same work. Sometimes they carry more. The only difference is what we’re paid.”

Over time, he has become known on the site not just for his strength, but for his attitude. He often tells the women to take a break when they look exhausted. “I know many of them deal with body pain, some even during their monthly cycle. But they keep working without complaint.” He smiles, “I admire them, truly. They deserve better—more pay, more rest, more care.” “We’re all building the same house,” he says. “We should be treated equally while doing it.”

Why does this wage gap persist?

Sudip Singh Nakarmi, a member of the Gender Studies Department at Tribhuvan University (TU), says that occupational segregation begins in childhood, shaping how society expects men and women to work. Women are often burdened with juggling office work, household chores, and caregiving, yet their labor is undervalued.

Ramhari Nepal, chairperson of the General Federation of Nepalese Trade Unions (GEFONT), notes that wage disparity is common in sectors like agriculture, service industries, and house construction. He points out that although both men and women contribute equally to house construction, the work is divided by physical demands, leading to differences in pay.

“Wage differences can often be determined by the nature of the work performed by men and women. For example, during house construction, men typically undertake heavier tasks such as climbing three to four stories and cementing structures, while women are more often responsible for assisting by transporting materials. Although both contribute equally to the construction process, the type of service they provide differs, leading to wage disparities,” he says.

Humnath Parajuli, under secretary and information officer at the Ministry of Labor, Employment and Social Security, says that wage disparity is often recognized in the formal sector but persists—and even appears “idealized”—in informal sectors like the movie industry. Efforts to create gender-sensitive workplaces focus more on behavior and environment, often ignoring wage inequalities.

Many companies do not openly share salary information, making it harder to spot and correct discrimination. A 2023 report by the Forum for Women, Law and Development (FWLD) found that only 40 percent of surveyed workplaces in Kathmandu complied with equal pay requirements.

Although Nepal’s Constitution, Labor Act, and various policies guarantee equal pay for equal work, enforcement remains limited. Employers sometimes bypass regulations through informal wage practices.
Beyond formal employment, women’s unpaid work—cooking, cleaning, caregiving—remains largely unrecognized in economic calculations.

The Central Bureau of Statistics, Nepal’s national data agency, reports that the widest pay gap between men and women exists in the ‘professional’ sector. For instance, while a male professional earns around Rs 25,800 per month, a female in the same category earns only Rs 14,000.

Nepal ranks second among South Asian countries and 101st globally in the Global Gender Gap Report 2020. Although the country performs relatively well in political empowerment, it lags behind in educational attainment and health outcomes for women.

A 2023 report by the World Economic Forum (WEF) highlighted that no country has yet achieved pay equality between men and women. Alarmingly, at the current pace of progress, it could take more than two centuries to fully close the global gender pay gap. However, this daunting reality should strengthen, not weaken, efforts to eliminate wage discrimination.

Globally, women now hold 34 percent of senior management roles in the mid-market sector—a 0.5 percentage point increase from 2024. This steady rise marks five consecutive years of progress toward gender parity in leadership positions, exceeding the previous trend.

Legal framework in Nepal

Nepal has made significant steps in ensuring gender equality through a legal framework. The Constitution, along with key laws like the Labor Act and the National Gender Equality Policy, guarantees equal protection, pay, and opportunities for women. Additionally, Nepal is committed to international agreements too. Some legal frameworks are listed below:

• Constitution of Nepal: Article 18 guarantees equal protection under the law and prohibits discrimination based on sex.
  Article 38 ensures women’s participation in all state structures and mandates equal pay for equal work.
• Labour Act, 2017: Section 7 prohibits discrimination in employment based on gender.
  Section 15 requires employers to determine wages without discrimination and promote transparency.
• National Gender Equality Policy (2016): Aims to provide equal economic opportunities for women and ensure fair access to decent work.
• International commitments: Nepal is a signatory to ILO Convention No. 100 (Equal Remuneration) and Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), both of which call for elimination of gender-based discrimination in the workplace.

Despite these strong legal frameworks, societal attitudes, weak monitoring, and lack of awareness among employers and workers alike contribute to persistent inequalities.

The way forward

Addressing the wage gap requires a multi-pronged approach. Implementing salary transparency through clear and public sharing of wage structures is crucial to ensuring accountability. Stronger enforcement mechanisms, including regular monitoring and strict penalties for violations, must be established to uphold equal pay laws.

At the same time, cultural shifts are needed to genuinely value women’s labor, both paid and unpaid, across all sectors. Education and awareness play a vital role, as emphasized by Nakarmi, in empowering women and marginalized communities to advocate for their rights. Additionally, inclusive policies must be prioritized to ensure that lower-class communities and LGBTQIA+ individuals—who often face multiple layers of discrimination—are not left behind in the fight for wage equality.

Luja Shakya of Inacho, Bhaktapur, was home on the fateful day of April 25, 2015. She was 15 then, just done with her tenth-grade finals, and, like her classmates, enjoying her holiday with her family. The ground started shaking just minutes before noon. It was one of the deadliest earthquakes to strike Nepal.

“Everything happened so quickly. It was terrifying,” recalls Shakya. He is 25 now, but she can remember the day as if it were yesterday. “I lost my dear grandmother to the earthquake. My family was devastated.”

That day didn’t just change Shakya’s life—it rewrote the fate of an entire nation. The 7.8-magnitude earthquake shook Nepal to its core. Nearly 9,000 lives were lost, tens of thousands were injured, and entire villages, cities, and centuries-old heritage sites crumbled. In a matter of minutes, what felt like normal spring sunlight turned into shadows of panic, dust, and despair.

“Our house wasn’t safe anymore. We had to move to the ground floor, which became our sleeping space. There were aftershocks after aftershocks, deepening our fear and reminding us how fragile everything was,” says Shakya.

The extent of death, damage, and destruction was widespread. Shakya’s neighborhood was among the least damaged compared to other parts of the city. Not far away, many homes were flattened. Narrow roads delayed rescue efforts. Help arrived slowly—if at all—exposing the government’s lack of preparedness.

Even today, Shakya doesn’t believe Nepal is ready for another disaster. “The cities are overcrowded with buildings—tall and risky. I’ve become more alert since then. I keep a small emergency kit at home. I never want to feel that helpless again,” he says.

Shakya isn’t the only one who feels this way. Ram Keshari Banmala’s entire family was trapped under the rubble of her collapsed house. “Neighbors pulled them out, but my brother-in-law didn’t make it,” she says. “Our home was gone, and we took shelter on a school ground for several weeks, surviving on donated food and essentials. To rebuild, we sold our land—for far less than it was worth. Financially, we were broken.”

Ten years on, the earthquake is still etched in Nepal’s collective memory. The ground shook for less than a minute, but its impact stretched into years—into homes, dreams, and daily struggles.

Help came, but not always fairly

In the days following the disaster, aid poured in from around the world. India, China, the US, and Europe sent rescue teams, medical supplies, and funds. But the government failed to distribute them fairly and effectively. Some families received more aid than they needed, while others got nothing. Corruption, favoritism, and a lack of coordination left deep cracks in the recovery effort.

The only silver lining amid the chaos was the solidarity shown by communities. “Our common tragedy brought us together. There was a deep sense of solidarity, and that was our greatest strength. Everyone helped everyone,” says Shakya.

Communities mobilized faster than authorities. They cooked meals, cleared rubble, and built temporary shelters.

For many, survival meant leaving. Thousands moved to urban centers or went abroad in search of work. According to the Department of Foreign Employment, labor permits surged after 2015, peaking at over 519,000 that year. Migration was not just a choice—it became a coping mechanism.

Loss of cultural heritage

The 2015 earthquake didn’t just claim lives—it erased heritage. Centuries-old temples in Kathmandu Valley and elsewhere collapsed. The iconic Dharahara Tower, a symbol of Kathmandu, was reduced to rubble. These sites were more than tourist attractions—they were emblems of identity, history, and faith.

“We watched history fall before our eyes,” said a Bhaktapur local. “These were more than buildings—they were part of who we are.”

Reconstruction has been slow. While the National Reconstruction Authority (NRA) has rebuilt 1,320 monasteries and 626 temples, many sites remain unfinished. In addition to cultural sites, the NRA restored essential infrastructure across the country, including 7,588 schools, 544 hospitals, and 106 security facilities. But reconstruction is only part of recovery. The emotional and economic toll is harder to repair.

Lessons in preparedness

Nepal wasn’t ready when the deadly earthquake struck in 2015—and it’s not fully ready today. While building codes have improved, and earthquake drills and awareness campaigns are held regularly, cities keep expanding without proper urban planning. In rural areas, access to information is limited. Many people still don’t know what to do when the earth shakes.

Biseswor Shrestha, who is in his 80s, remembers praying as the quake hit. “I didn’t know what to do. I just stood still and prayed,” he says.

Seismologist Ramesh Guragain notes that reconstruction has made some places safer—but new areas, especially rural ones, remain highly vulnerable. “We need two levels of awareness: understanding the risk and knowing how to rebuild safely within one’s means.”

In 2015 alone, there were 58 aftershocks of magnitude 5 and above. The frequency dropped in the following years, only to spike again in 2023 with 17 earthquakes recorded—a stark reminder of Nepal’s vulnerability.

Guragain, deputy executive director at the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET), warns that while rebuilt areas may withstand another quake, new urban sprawls are ticking time bombs.

“While we have more resources now, awareness is still lacking, especially in villages,” he says. His warning highlights the dual challenge of maintaining reconstruction quality while addressing uncontrolled development.

The earthquake exposed structural vulnerabilities—both in our buildings and in our systems of governance. Emergency response was slow, policies were unclear, and aid distribution was flawed.

Ten years later, despite all the reconstruction efforts, there’s still much left to be desired. The cyclical nature of Nepal’s disaster memory poses perhaps the greatest threat to preparedness. As seismologist Lok Bijaya Adhikari observes, “We forgot the 1934 earthquake, and we’re now forgetting the 2015 earthquake.”

Remembering what was lost

While buildings can be rebuilt, trust in institutions, emotional healing, and a sense of safety take far longer.

Gopini Suwal is still haunted by the memory of the 2015 earthquake. “I was in the field when the quake hit,” she recalls. “My kids were playing by the river. I panicked—my heart froze. My brother had a heart condition, he couldn’t run. I thought I’d lose everyone. But it was my young nephew we lost. That tore me apart.”

In Bhaktapur, Ratna Shova Phaiju and her pregnant sister were trapped under rubble for an hour with a toddler. “We could hear people calling for us, but we couldn’t respond. That hour changed everything,” she says.

Similarly, Uma Gautam of Gaushala still grieves the loss of her two nieces in the Dharahara collapse. “They were so excited to visit Dharahara. One had just passed her SLC. I didn’t even get to see them one last time,” she laments.

Their trauma runs deep. Psychiatrist Dr Rika Rijal says trauma imprints itself in the brain. “Long after the event, people relive the fear. That’s why mental health support is vital. Recovery doesn’t just mean new buildings. It means healing minds and restoring hope.”

The earthquake may be history, but for those who lived it, the story continues every day. The silence in once-busy neighborhoods, the gaps in family photos, the invisible cracks in people’s hearts—these are not easily mended.

Remember, rebuild, prepare

For many, the earthquake still lives in their memories. We can’t stop earthquakes. But we can be ready. We can care for each other. And most importantly, we can remember—not just the day the earth shook, but the strength we found in one another.

Seismologist Adhikari says earthquake vulnerability varies from place to place, yet many people are still unaware of the risks.

“One of the most effective ways to reduce this risk is through awareness, especially by including earthquake education in the school curriculum,” he says.

Unfortunately, even after the 2015 earthquake, this step has not been fully implemented. One of the major reasons behind the deaths and destruction in the 2015 earthquake was poor house design and weak construction. Yet many still don’t follow earthquake-safe building practices.

To reduce future destruction, it’s crucial to train engineers properly in building codes and ensure safe land use practices when constructing homes. Because the next quake isn’t a matter of if—but when.

Reconstructed infrastructure projects by NRA

Source: The National Reconstruction Authority

Earthquake in the last decade (above 5 magnitude)

Source: National Earthquake Monitoring and Research Centre

*First four months of 2025

With the rising popularity of Korean dramas (K-dramas) in Nepal, many young women admire the romance, fashion, love, success, and lifestyles portrayed on screen. These dramas are widely loved, particularly by female audiences. However, some viewers compare their own love lives to the unrealistic fantasies depicted in these shows—potentially shaping or even disrupting their relationships. But are these dramas setting unrealistic expectations for relationships, beauty standards, and success?

Over the past decade, K-dramas have taken Nepal by storm, captivating audiences with their catchy storylines, charming characters, and idealized romance. From romantic and grand confession in the rain to dramatic love triangles, K-dramas have always succeeded to allure the audience which have set an incredibly high bar for what romance should look like. 

Unlike Indian series, which often follow repetitive patterns, K-dramas feature diverse genres and dynamic storytelling. Male leads are typically wealthy, mysterious, and emotionally reserved at first, only to reveal a softer, protective side as the plot unfolds. Female leads, meanwhile, are portrayed as kind-hearted and resilient, winning over their love interests through sincerity.

For many Nepali fans, these idealized portrayals have influenced their views on relationships. Social media is filled with posts yearning for a “K-drama-like romance”—complete with grand gestures, deep emotional bonds, and unwavering commitment. Some admit that they find themselves comparing their relationships to what they see on screen, leading to feelings of dissatisfaction when real-life love does not match the drama-fueled fantasy.

Shristi Prajapati (19) shared, “I used to watch a lot of Chinese dramas instead of K-dramas, though I’ve cut back now. The love stories feel so realistic that I sometimes hope for the same connection in real life.” However, she acknowledges the risks: “Unrealistic expectations can harm relationships, making people feel their partner isn’t loving enough.”
Prajapati explained that she only wants the parts to be in reality which could turn into real life like showing efforts and all. “But I also think that it can harm the perfect ongoing relationship where once they gather the expectations in their relationship and it may create problems in the relationship where one may end up feeling sad and may think that their relationship is not going well or their partner is not loving enough.”

Shayan Shakya (22) reflected on his past obsession: “I used to dream about recreating dramatic moments in real life, not realizing some things only work on screen.” He added that conservative Nepali society made such fantasies even harder to fulfill, leading him to stop watching.

Anil Giri, writing for The Korea Times, noted that K-dramas avoid excessive vulgarity and lengthy runs, focusing instead on vivid portrayals of love, tragedy, and family issues—key reasons for their appeal.

The “oppa culture”—where women romanticize older, protective men—has also influenced Nepal’s dating scene. Many young fans now crave fate-driven love stories with grand sacrifices. However, experts warn that these narratives can distort perceptions of healthy relationships.
Psychologists said, “Real relationships can be disappointing and frustrating if you want your spouse to be affluent, protective all the time, and to have the characteristics of a male protagonist in a K-drama. Young Nepali males may experience pressure to live up to the ‘oppa’ ideal, which is to be powerful, prosperous, emotionally distant but kind, and in charge at all times.”

Khusbu Agrawal, a psychologist, explained: “Fans form deep emotional bonds with characters, leading to unrealistic comparisons. Real partners, being human, can’t match the grand, selfless gestures seen on screen, often causing feelings of inadequacy.”

While K-dramas entertain, viewers must recognize the line between fiction and reality. Love isn’t about finding a wealthy savior—it’s built on mutual effort and emotional maturity.

Agrawal added: “Romantic FOMO can make fans undervalue caring partners. Critical media literacy and open discussions are essential to mitigate these effects.”

“Social comparison, Media Influence (Cultivation Theory), Character Attachment (Parasocial Bonds), Escapism & Fantasy, Emotional Investment and Happy Endings vs. Reality is the reason why we compare our relationships to K-Drama”, she explained.
That said, not all viewers adopt unrealistic expectations. Inaya Kiju, who has watched over 200 dramas, said: “I fantasize about the love stories but know they’re fictional. As long as people distinguish between reality and fantasy, K-dramas won’t harm relationships.” K-dramas have undeniably shaped how Nepali youth perceive romance. While they offer heartwarming tales, it’s crucial to separate scripted perfection from real love—which thrives on genuine connection, not grand gestures. As long as fans enjoy these dramas without losing sight of reality, there’s no harm in dreaming—K-drama style.

Born into a traditional Newar family in Bode, Bhaktapur, Sujan Baga Shrestha grew up watching and celebrating various Newa festivals and rituals. From a young age, he felt a deep calling to participate in the sacred tongue-piercing ritual, a tradition deeply rooted in his family. His father had performed the ritual for eight years, and his uncle (kaka) had also upheld the practice for several years. For Shrestha, this was more than a ritual—it was a spiritual journey, a connection to his ancestors, and a way to honor his identity.

He remembers that he was only 8–9 years old when he started understanding that his uncle also pierced the tongue. When he used to ask about the ritual, his father used to say that it was only done for god and to honor god. However, when he was 18 or 19, his father refused to let him participate, believing he was too young. Shrestha recalls the emotional moment vividly. Tears streaming down his face, he pleaded to his father to allow him to continue the family tradition in front of the camera who were shooting for his father’s piercing ceremony. As a child, he had witnessed the ritual up close, and the experience had left an indelible mark on him. He was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps, no matter the challenges.

Now a professional driver, Shrestha sees the tongue-piercing ritual as a profound spiritual experience. He believes that Nepal’s Newa culture is a source of global pride, and many Nepalis abroad continue to honor these traditions. By participating in the ritual, he aims to preserve and promote this cultural heritage, ensuring that it remains alive for future generations.

Shrestha’s faith in the power of tradition was reinforced during the devastating 2015 earthquake. While destruction ravaged much of Nepal, no houses in his community were damaged, and no lives were lost. He attributes this miracle to the blessings of the gods, who he believes watch over those who uphold their cultural practices with a pure heart.

His father, who observed the ritual for four consecutive years, was a major source of inspiration. However, after his grandmother’s passing, his father had to pause, and another uncle took over. Shrestha had wanted to step in, but his father deemed him too frail at the time. This only deepened his resolve to participate when the opportunity arose again.

Despite his passion, Shrestha has faced physical challenges, including a recurring shoulder dislocation that makes strenuous activities difficult. His first experience with the ritual was a mix of excitement and nervousness. Participants must fast for four days beforehand, consuming only alcohol if they choose. On the day of the piercing, Shrestha’s father and uncle, the ritual leader, instructed him to close his eyes. The initial piercing of the upper layer of his tongue was bearable, but the lower part brought searing pain, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. Yet, in that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride.

One of the most remarkable moments came during the fasting period. Shrestha felt weak and suffered from a persistent cough. “But as soon as I wore the ritual costume and ghungroo (ankle bells),” he recalls. “I suddenly felt empowered, and my cough vanished.” This transformation left him in awe, reinforcing his belief in the spiritual energy of the tradition.

His second experience was even more daunting. Battling a 102-degree fever, Shrestha endured the ritual with grit and determination. When asked if he would participate again this year, he said he would decide in a few days, showcasing his unwavering commitment despite the physical toll.

The rituals surrounding the tongue-piercing tradition are steeped in discipline and reverence. Participants must offer coins which are called Bapenatyau to four key individuals—Pama (the main leader), Kaminaya (the piercer), and two Pancha Bali (representatives from the Shahi family). Strict purity rules follow: no contact with animals and women, staying indoors, and avoiding food touched by others. Even local leaders, including the Mayor and parliamentary representatives, join the ritual, underscoring its communal significance.

After the piercing, the restrictions lift, and participants enjoy a feast. When asked how they manage to eat after such a painful procedure, The leader of the ritual, Pama explains that temple mud is applied to the pierced area, providing relief. With a laugh, he adds, “After the piercing, I can easily eat a whole plate of spicy choila in the evening.”

Shrestha is passionate about passing down the tradition. If the younger generation expresses interest, he vows to support them wholeheartedly. As a newly married man, he acknowledges it may be years before his future son might participate, but he encourages his younger brother to take part if he wishes. For Shrestha, keeping the tradition alive is a sacred duty.

Though he doesn’t know the exact history of the ritual, he shares that it was practiced by his grandfather. Growing up in a family that faced poverty, Shrestha witnessed many struggles. Yet, he believes that dedicating time to the ritual has brought divine blessings and protection. “God has looked after us and kept us safe from harm,” he says.

The ritual has also shaped how the community perceives Shrestha and his family. They are treated with immense respect, and neighbors are always willing to lend a hand. For Shrestha, the tradition has brought only positivity into his life.

The final stages of the ritual are equally profound. On the 5th day of Baisakh, the leaders carry the Khatt/Kharpan of Kalika Kumari, a deity, in a sacred procession. No one is allowed to see them, and the carriers chant “Binami,” a Newar word meaning “Excuse me,” as they roam the area at night. Shrestha admits he is particularly scared of this day, as he has never dared to break the rule and peek.

Through his journey, Shrestha embodies the enduring power of tradition. His unwavering dedication to the tongue-piercing ritual reflects his deep connection to his culture, spirituality, and community. He hopes that future generations will continue to uphold these time-honored customs, ensuring that the rich heritage of the Newar people thrives for years to come. 

As we observe International Day of Happiness on March 20, it is imperative to reflect on what truly brings us joy in modern life. Every year, the World Happiness Report (WHR) publishes data on the list of happiest countries, and Finland has consistently ranked the happiest country among 143 countries for the seventh year running. The latest report puts Nepal at the 93rd place. 

Khusbu Agrawal, psychologist at Happy Mind says, “Today, happiness is linked to material possessions, success, external validation, psychological well-being, relationships, and personal development where traditional methods emphasize the significance of leading a life that is in line with one’s values and contributing to something greater than oneself, which offers a sense of purpose that goes beyond transient joys.”

She explains, “The traditional concept of togetherness and the contemporary desire for social interaction are bridged when one participates in activities that promote connections with family and friends—such as sharing meals, playing games, or volunteering for community service—putting more emphasis on meaningful activities, connections, and experiences than on material belongings.”

According to Agrawal, fostering inner peace, developing a sense of connection to something greater than oneself, and spiritual practices like meditation and prayer can help an individual manage stress and anxiety.

Siddhi Laxmi Shrestha, a local from Bhaktapur, defines happiness as the well-being found in togetherness. “I am happy when my family is healthy and doing well,” she says. “There was a time when we used to find joy without money because we exchanged things with each other and had everything within our community. But now, people chase money, social media likes, and viral fame, which isn’t a good sign.” 

For Shrestha, true happiness lies in appreciating what we have rather than dwelling on what we lack. Happiness, she says, is something one should feel at all times by embracing and appreciating what they have at present.

Aditya Dangol, counseling psychologist and mental health advocate, agrees with Shrestha. She says, “Community spaces where bonds can be created that help rekindle emotional conversations and exchange the playful side of human beings can grow a sense of belongingness and ultimately, happiness.” 

Astik Poudel, a college student, finds happiness in helping those in need. He believes that life is a one-time opportunity, and true fulfillment comes from doing good deeds rather than chasing material possessions. “I am a very spiritual person and we have only one life where our soul resides, and we must make the most of it by doing meaningful things rather than being consumed by materialism,” he says.

Acknowledging the endless nature of human desires, Poudel emphasizes the importance of practicality and selflessness. “Materialistic life makes us crave for more, but true happiness comes when we focus on helping one another. That’s what brings real contentment within ourselves.” 

Bishan Magar, who works as an inDriver, believes that financial stability is the key to happiness. For him, a good bank balance brings security and the ability to fulfill personal and family needs. “There are different aspects of happiness, but I will be happy when I have money because everyone has desires they want to fulfill, and only money can make that possible,” he says.

Magar acknowledges that happiness is subjective, but he sees wealth as a crucial factor in achieving a comfortable and fulfilling life. “If you have enough money, you can take care of yourself and your household, which ultimately brings peace of mind,” he adds.

Despite the struggles of modern life, there are individuals/organizations dedicated to spreading happiness. Poudel, who works for Divine Youth Club in Radhe Radhe feels happy when he is helping people who are in need. He says, “I feel lucky working in such a place where we help people in need and in return, receive lots of blessings and I think that is the means of happiness for me personally.”

Jiban Mani Poudel, an anthropologist, says, “People find happiness in different ways depending on their environment, age, and time. For example, we live in the city surrounded by gadgets and machines, which make our lives easier and more fulfilling. However, when we bring our grandparents here, they don’t quite feel the same. They long to return to the village because they find true happiness there, not in the city.”

Poudel says unlike in rural places, city people live close to each other, yet they seem distant and unfamiliar. 

“Talking about today’s generation, every person seems to be occupied with their phones. They no longer feel the need to socialize in real life.”

Poudel emphasizes that people today own a lot of property and have the means to fulfil all their material desires, yet they are still not completely happy. 

“Happiness is defined differently by different people and professions. As an anthropologist, we may define happiness in terms of material and cultural well-being. Psychologists, on the other hand, might define it as a state of good mental health, while doctors may see it as physical well-being. Each perspective offers a unique understanding of what it means to be truly happy,” he adds.