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Nepal-China border points have never been fully functional since the 2015 earthquakes. After the quakes severely damaged the road and other infrastructure at Tatopani, the busiest border point between the two countries, it took four years for it to reopen, but even then only partially.  The Rasuwagadi-Kerung border came into operation in 2014 but due to lack of infrastructure and other reasons, it failed to serve as an alternative to Tatopani crossing, as China had planned.   Then Covid-19 pandemic struck in 2019. What little movement of goods that was taking place following the disastrous 2015 earthquakes came to a grinding halt.  Officials suspect China closed the Tatopani border mainly out of security concerns and the earthquake was just a pretext. Soon after the disaster struck Nepal, Chinese security personnel had come to assist Nepali villagers in border areas. It is said the security personnel saw pictures of the Dalai Lama hanging in Nepali houses, which alarmed them.  Tatopani Bazar, an important business hub for Chinese goods, was subsequently relocated. Once a bustling trading post is now deserted. Although the Tatopani border did come into operation in 2019, it was restricted to the movements of cargo trucks to curb the spread of Covid-19. To this day, only limited cargo is allowed into Nepal from the border point, hitting Nepal’s exports to China and contributing to a swelling trade imbalance.  The Chinese side has yet to clearly spell out why the movements of goods to Nepal from its border points are being restricted.  Domestically, the Beijing government has taken a zero-Covid policy under which it has introduced some draconian measures, such as strict and targeted lockdowns irrespective of their consequences. It has adopted strict measures with not just Nepal but all its neighboring countries. A surge in Covid-19 cases has been recently reported in several cities of Tibet, forcing the government to enforce strict lockdowns. Dozens of Nepali trades have tested positive for the infection and they are stranded in Tibet, as the border points have been completely closed for the past two weeks.  Bishnu Pukar Shrestha, Nepali ambassador to China, says Beijing has pledged to ease restrictions when Covid-19 subsides.   “The Chinese side has communicated that they have locked down major cities in Tibet, so it will take some time for things to normalize,” he says. The complete opening of the Nepal-China border points is not going to happen in the immediate future. This was made clear by the Chinese officials to Foreign Minister Narayan Khadka during his China visit on Aug 8-10. With the festive season approaching, Nepali traders are growing impatient. Ashok Kumar Shrestha, Chairman, Nepal Trans Himalaya Border Commerce Association, says businesses have been badly hit as the Nepal-China border points have not been fully operational in the past seven years. “The Chinese side has been releasing only a limited number of cargo trucks,” he says. “Surely, there must be reasons beyond Covid-19 for this.” Around 200 cargo trucks bearing goods bound for Nepal are stranded on the Chinese side. On Aug 29, a delegation of Nepali traders submitted a letter to the Ministry of Industry, Commerce and Supplies with a request to take immediate measures to ease border restrictions. Expectations were high when Nepal and China signed the Transit and Transport Agreement in 2016 following the blockade imposed by India in 2015. The general feeling was that Nepal would no longer have to depend only on India to bring in foreign goods. But since the signing of the agreement six years ago, there have been continuous obstructions on the movement of goods across Nepal-China border points.  Nepal’s trade and commerce relations with China are deteriorating, not improving as was expected during the agreement’s signing. Nepali traders have been expressing their concerns, to no avail. The Chinese side has time and again reiterated that the border points will come into full operation after the Covid-19 crisis is over. It has offered no timeline and no hope to the distraught traders.  Foreign relations experts say as China is reluctant to open up about its concerns and fully operationalize its border points, Nepali officials should find out what is bothering Beijing and try to address the situation. Upendra Gautam, general secretary of China Study Center Nepal, says Nepal should not hesitate to ask China if there are other issues beyond Covid-19 restricting the movement of goods into Nepal. “For China, security is more important than trade and economy,” Gautam adds. He is of the view that the two countries should have an honest talk on the matter.  “China’s restrictions at the Tatopani and other border points follow from security concerns,” says an official with the Ministry of Industry who does not wish to be identified.    Like Gautam, he too is in favor of the two governments engaging in frank discussions to fully operate the border points. 

My husband and I rarely ever like the same book. We have completely different reading choices. Usually, I recommend a book to him, tell him he must read this book I just read, that I gave it a solid five stars, and he will roll his eyes at me. ‘A Man Called Ove’ by Fredrick Backman, which is one of my most favorite books, put him to sleep. He calls it the most boring book ever. (It’s a wonder I’m still married to him.) But we both absolutely adored ‘The Silent Patient’ by Alex Michaelides. It was probably the one book that we both agreed was better than most thrillers we had read. We also didn’t see the end coming. We wanted to read more by the author and were thrilled to come across ‘The Maidens’.  The Silent Patient is about a London-based psychotherapist who becomes obsessed with a painter who hasn’t spoken a word after she is convicted of murdering her husband. The Maidens also involves a London-based psychotherapist and the all-too-pervasive culture of silencing women. Mariana Andros is a 36-year-old, grieving widow. A little over a year ago, her husband, Sebastian, died on a beach in Naxos, Greece while on holiday. Mariana still lives in the yellow house she shared with her husband on Primrose Hill in Northwest London. She can’t get past the fact that she convinced Sebastian to go on a holiday and holds herself responsible for his death. Then she gets a call from her niece, Zoe, who studies in Cambridge. Zoe says her friend Tara is missing. Mariana fears this will be hard on Zoe as Tara is one of the few friends she has and so she leaves for Cambridge. There she discovers a secret society called ‘The Maidens’ who cluster around a brilliant Greek Tragedy professor named Edward Fosca. He is handsome and charming. But Mariana suspects there is something off with him and she starts to poke around. More women end up dead. They are killed in a grisly, ritualistic fashion and Mariana becomes convinced Fosca is somehow behind them, despite having airtight alibis. Cambridge also brings back a lot of memories as this is where Mariana and Sebastian met so there’s a lot of personal demons to battle as well. Michaelides is a great visual storyteller. The detailed descriptions of settings, with historical buildings, create an ominous atmosphere and set the right mood. But The Maidens wasn’t as good as The Silent Patient. The story feels unnecessarily dragged out at times. The Maidens isn’t as psychologically thrilling or taut as The Silent Patient either. That’s not to say it’s a bad book. It’s still a fun read—just don’t have sky-high expectations. Three and half stars Fiction The Maidens Alex Michaelides Published: 2020 Publisher: Pages: Paperback

If you have not heard the name, you have missed some of the best movies that have come out of India in recent years. This week’s movie review won’t be complete without introducing Fahadh Faasil. The actor and producer who mostly does Malayalam and Tamil films has impressed me in all his roles. And one search through his Wikipedia will show it’s not only me fanboying over one of the most versatile actors in Indian cinema today. Faasil is not the typical Indian cinema ‘hero’. He is an actor par excellence who takes ownership of the characters he is playing and relives their lives on screen. He does not need to show skin, copy Michael Jackson moves and fight Kung Fu to make his mark. Having done more than 50 films so far, Fahadh’s “Irul”, “Kumbalangi Nights,” “Joji” and “Malik” are some of the unmissable names from his filmography. Some of the more adventurous audience members will probably remember him from the South Indian mainstream blockbusters “Pushpa” and “Vikram.” Within the few films named, Faasil shows he can play lead roles, supporting roles, protagonist, antagonist and comic relief as well. In his latest movie “Malayankunju”—a Malayalam-language survival thriller—Faasil plays Anil or Anikuttan, a handyman in a small village in Kerala. Anikuttaan lives on a rubber plantation with his mother Shanthamma (Jaya S Kurup) and repairs small electric stuff for village folks. From the very beginning, the audience is shown that Anil is not mentally stable. He gets irritated quickly, has an aversion to any sort of noise and is a blatant casteist. He hates a particular community, including his neighbors, and does not shy from showing it openly. We also learn that Anil has had a deeply traumatic past incident— which could be one reason behind his present condition. But some parts of the film also establish him as a man with a conscience and friendly to those he likes. Anil is a multi-layered character that drives the film forward. Directed by Sajimon Prabhakar and written by Mahesh Narayanan, Malayankunj starts like a family drama and then transgresses into a panic-inducing survivor film that flips the storyline and changes how we look at the main character. While Anil lives a life of resentment and over-confidence, a flash flood in his area completely destroys his chosen way of life. He wakes up one day to find himself buried deep under the debris of his own house. Getting out of there and also saving a baby he has hated for so long because of her crying and her parents’ caste now becomes his mission in life. Malayankunj is not a high-budget survival film with plenty of VFX generated dramatic sequences. There is some amount of low budget CGI but the film mostly rests on Faasil’s acting, the screenplay and Mahesh Narayanan’s cinematography. From about half way, these three nearly take over the screen. Anil’s struggle and desperation are captured with the most realistic set of moving images on-screen. I cannot think of one name from mainstream Bollywood who could replace Faasil as Anil. So I hope there are no remakes of this one. I love the cinematography of Malayakunj for the way it uses the lights in its storytelling. Anil is buried in debris in an underground cave-like structure and it’s probably dark outside. So how do the camerapersons capture him for the audience? They use two different lights—one a powerful torch and other a car headlight—which have appeared in the film before. Now with only Anil on the screen, these two light sources, one after the other, become the film’s characters. Amazing stuff. The background music—which borderlines trance and psychedelic at times—also seamlessly syncs with what’s happening in the film. I looked up the music director and found A.R Rahman’s name in the credits, without a big surprise. Who should watch it? Malayankunj is a brilliant film. I know that watching a Malayalam film with English subtitles comes with its own set of challenges and there’s a chance that the context is lost in some instances. It will still be worth every movie-lover’s time spending a couple of hours on this film. Genre: Drama/thriller Rating: 4 stars Actors: Fahadh Faasil Director: Sajimon Prabhakar Run time: 1hr 54mins

Quick facts Born on 15 July 1951 in Kalimpong Went to The Scottish Universities’ Mission Institution, Kalimpong  Graduated from Kalimpong College, Kalimpong  Directed his first Nepali movie ‘Basuri’ in 1981 Husband of Bharati Ghimire Father to Panchami Ghimire and Bhawana Ghimire I was born into a middle-class family in a small village of Kalimpong. My father had retired from the Indian Army when I was just a boy. He then got into farming and cattle-rearing to raise his family.   Radio was a big thing when I was growing up. It was a symbol of prestige in my village and very few houses there had one. As a boy, I used to be fascinated by this box that projected people’s voices, songs and music. I used to go to the houses that had radios just to look at them. I could never figure out how they produced the voices. The station was tuned to Lucknow and I wanted to go there, to see what was happening. So, in a way, I developed an urge to leave my village from an early age. When I was in grade seven, my teacher asked the whole class what we wanted to become and I blurted out that I wanted to join the film industry. I do not know why I said that but from that day, my friends started teasing me by giving me names of various Bollywood actors of the time.   After completing my schooling, I went to Pune for further studies and joined the army by following in my father’s footsteps. But  I soon realized that I was not cut out for military service. I used to feel that I was being trained to kill people. When I shared this with my father, he too agreed that I was not meant to be a soldier. At the time, becoming a filmmaker had not even entered my mind. It was only a childhood dream I had shared in my class, for which I was taunted and made fun of.  I joined the industry by happenstance while in Sikkim. A film unit had arrived there for shooting and I got to know some of the crew members, including the cameraperson Lalji Yadav. It was Yadav who pushed me into filmmaking. He advised me to join the industry—but only if I was willing to put my heart and soul in it. I had nothing going for me at the time, so I was more than willing to take a leap of faith. And so, at Yadav’s suggestion, I left for Mumbai (Bombay at the time) in 1974 with InRs 500 in my pocket. I wandered around the Film City seeking jobs. At this time, I met makeup artist Adaa Khan, who taught me how to do makeup for films. That’s how I entered the world of cinema, as a makeup artist. During the shoots, I learned various technical aspects of filmmaking. I learned to do the work of a lightboy, spotboy, camera caretaker and even stuntman. It was a struggle but also a big learning curve.  [caption id="attachment_29769" align="alignnone" width="827"] Tulsi Ghimire directing Kusume Rumal, released in 1985.[/caption] I learned film editing under the legendary film editor Kamlakar Karkhanis. In fact, whatever I have learned about making movies, I learned from him. He was a strict teacher. One time in the 1970s, he had gone to Pune for three days and I was left in Bombay with no one to support me. I literally had nothing to eat for days and when he learned about my situation after returning from Pune, he reprimanded me instead of showing sympathy. He told me that I should go on with an empty stomach for a few more days. I was angry and heartbroken by the way he treated me that day. But later I would learn that he was only teaching me a lesson. He told me that starvation gives a person a different perspective on life, which is an essential quality for a filmmaker. That is how Karkhanis taught me and I will always be thankful for his teachings.       I worked with him on more than 30 films as his chief assistant. My first break in Bollywood was the movie ‘Shradhanjali,’ where I worked as an editor.  My foray in Nepali film industry was also a sort of tribute to Karkhanis. He had once asked me to make 10 Nepali films as his Guru Purnima wish. It seemed impossible at the time, but I agreed to it anyway.  When Karkhanis passed away at the age of 82, I made a promise to myself that I would fulfill his wishes at any cost. I had no money and no crew to help me and when I confided my situation to my friend Rajkumar Sharma, he told me to just start making a film and not to worry about money.  His idea was to start with whatever resources I could muster and see where that leads. So I started my first project. The movie was called ‘Basuri’ based on a drama I had performed in my college days.   When we were in a dire need of money to finance the film, we managed to get Rs 500,000. I was able to make my first film that way and it was released in 1981. I then went on to make one after another movie: my 10th one was ‘Dakshina,’ named in honor of my late teacher.  I have made a lot of memories working in the Nepali film industry. My goal is to direct at least 25 movies to set the Kollywood record.  About him Neer Shah (Colleague) He is one of the most phenomenal directors I have worked with. He gives actors the space to improvise and put their inputs in the characters they are playing. The freedom he gave his actors helped them to put extra input to their characters. More importantly, he pushes them to do better and put in more effort. He was meant to be a director.  Bharati Ghimire (Wife)  I feel lucky to have him as my husband. He is caring, sensitive, and an amazing partner. I also have no complaints with how he treats his children. He will do everything to give his children a good life. One rarely comes across such an emotionally-mature person.  Sambhujeet Baskota (Colleague) He has the personality of a director. The visions he has are like no other. Without him, the progress we see in the Nepali film industry today would have been possible. Most innovations we see today in Nepali films is his contribution because he started it all.