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Ankita (name changed), a 24-year-old engineering student from Doti, never imagined that the person she trusted the most would become the source of her deepest pain. For five years, she had been in a committed relationship with her boyfriend.

Everything seemed fine until one day, whispers began circulating among her peers. She soon discovered she had become the topic of gossip, branded as “characterless.” People she barely knew began sending her abusive messages, some even crossed all limits by sending her obscene pictures. Confused and humiliated, Ankita tried to understand what went wrong. After some digging, she was shattered to learn that her private photos/moments shared in trust had been leaked online across several pornographic sites and on X. Her sense of safety collapsed in an instant. But the greatest betrayal was yet to be revealed, the person behind the leak was her own boyfriend. When confronted, his justification was horrifyingly casual; he claimed he did it “for a kick,” to “flex her” and show that she was “his.” The sheer hypocrisy and cruelty of his actions were beyond comprehension. To make matters worse, he was living abroad, outside the reach of immediate legal action.

Shattered but determined, Ankita, accompanied by her friends, went to the local police station to file a complaint. What she hoped would be the beginning of justice turned into another layer of trauma. The police officers, instead of offering empathy or protection, questioned her character. Some even suggested that she might have shared the photos intentionally to seek attention or favor. One officer reportedly said, “If you didn’t want it to go public, why did you share it at all?” It was a painful reminder of how victim-blaming remains deeply embedded in our institutions. The justice system that should have protected her only made her feel smaller, weaker, and more exposed. Her case dragged on with little progress.

The key accused her ex-boyfriend was living abroad, and Nepal’s cyber laws offered no clear mechanism to bring him under legal jurisdiction. The humiliation continued online. Despite reporting the images on multiple platforms, the content was not removed quickly. For weeks, Ankita could barely sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she feared another message, another notification, another reminder that her life was no longer her own.

Ankita’s story is not unique. Across Nepal and indeed, around the world young people are navigating love in the digital era without a clear understanding of the risks. With smartphones becoming extensions of our emotions, digital intimacy has become an unspoken part of modern relationships. Couples share private photos, videos, and messages as symbols of trust and affection. But few realize that once shared digitally, these moments are no longer entirely within their control. According to Nepal Police’s Cyber Bureau, cases of revenge porn, sextortion, and non-consensual image sharing have been rising sharply in recent years. Yet, most victims do not come forward due to shame, fear of social stigma, or lack of trust in the authorities. The problem lies not only in the acts themselves but also in our collective response, a mixture of judgment, silence, and technological ignorance.

Social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, and X have revolutionized how we connect, communicate, and express ourselves. They’ve given voice to the voiceless, allowed distant loved ones to stay close, and opened doors to creativity and social change. But they have also become tools of manipulation, harassment, and exploitation. On one hand, social media is a blessing enabling activism, education, and global awareness. On the other hand, it has turned into a breeding ground for cyberbullying, privacy violations, and mental health crises.

In Ankita’s case, social media amplified her trauma. The same platforms that once carried her expressions of love now carried her humiliation. Once the images went viral, there was no turning back. Even after removal, digital traces often remain archived in corners of the internet that never forget. This dual nature of social media raises a crucial question for our time: How can we continue to benefit from these platforms while ensuring accountability, privacy, and safety?

Earlier this year, the Government of Nepal sparked massive outrage when it proposed banning social media platforms that were not registered in the country. Thousands of young users protested online, calling it a violation of freedom of expression. While the frustration was justified, the issue also revealed something deeper: the need for balanced digital regulation. Banning social media outright is not the answer. But ignoring its growing misuse is equally dangerous. Nepal urgently needs clear, updated, and enforceable cyber laws that address the realities of the digital age. Laws that not only criminalize online harassment and image-based abuse but also empower victims with access to psychological support, legal aid, and data protection.

Countries like the UK, Australia, and South Korea have already enacted laws that allow victims of non-consensual image sharing to report and have their content removed quickly. Nepal can and must follow suit. Moreover, social media companies themselves must bear greater responsibility. Platforms should improve their moderation systems, provide faster content takedown mechanisms, and cooperate with local law enforcement. Without accountability both from governments and corporations the internet will remain a lawless space where justice is slow, and trauma is endless.

The act of leaking someone’s private pictures is not merely a crime of technology, it is a crime of trust. It weaponizes intimacy. For the victim, the emotional toll is often equivalent to or worse than physical assault. Victims experience anxiety, depression, and long-term trauma.

In conservative societies, where women are often judged more harshly, such incidents can destroy careers, education, and family relationships. Ankita’s silence for weeks after the incident reflects this psychological burden. She feared not only societal judgment but also the loss of her identity. Every look, every whisper, became a reminder of her pain. The healing process for victims like her is not just about removing photos or catching perpetrators, it’s about reclaiming dignity and agency in a society that too often blames the survivor instead of the criminal. Relationships should include discussions about boundaries, respect, and the risks of sharing personal content online.

For many, love has become an act of possession rather than partnership. Social media amplifies this by rewarding public displays of affection, relationship “proofs,” and constant validation. In such a culture, private love becomes public performance and when that performance ends, revenge or exposure becomes the final act. True love, however, is rooted in respect, consent, and trust. Without those, digital intimacy turns into digital exploitation. 

Love itself is not the trap, it’s the misuse of trust, technology, and power that ensnares people like Ankita. In this era of digital intimacy, love has become easier to express but harder to protect. Social media, with all its blessings, can turn into a curse when wielded without empathy or accountability. The same tool that connects can also destroy; the same platform that gives voice can also be silent. As a society, we must redefine both love and responsibility in the digital context. We must teach that sharing does not equal consent, that privacy is not negotiable, and that no one deserves shame for trusting someone they love.

For Ankita, the scars may never fully fade. But if her story can spark awareness, compassion, and change, perhaps her pain will not have been in vain. Because in the end, love is not a trap, it’s a test of how responsible we handle the trust it gives us.

Among Nepal’s most popular tourist destinations, Manang, which has been dubbed Himal Pariko Jilla (the District Beyond the Mountains), has always held top priority for both domestic and international travelers. Famous for Tilicho Lake and the Annapurna Circuit Trek, Manang has been attracting visitors from across the world for decades.

Yet, from a tourism perspective, there are still many beautiful corners of Manang that remain largely unnoticed. Tourists may have set foot in nearly every visible trail and valley, but there are still hidden gems that few people have even heard of.

These places, I believe, deserve to be explored not just for their scenic charm but also for the soothing tranquility they offer to travelers. That’s why two of my friends and I decided to embark on a motorbike journey through these fascinating places.

We left Kathmandu at around 1 pm. The Dashain festival rush had already begun, and as we reached Naubise, we found ourselves stuck in a three-hour traffic jam. Thousands were leaving the Valley for their hometowns to celebrate Nepal’s biggest and longest festival. Despite the slow-moving traffic, my excitement only grew. I was eager to see a different side of Manang, one I hadn’t seen before.

By 4 pm, we reached Muglin, where we stopped for some snacks before speeding up toward Besisahar, the gateway to Manang. Around 8 pm, we reached Dumre, where we had dinner and turned right toward Besisahar. Dumre, located in Tanahun district, serves as a crucial junction linking Manang with Kathmandu and other parts of the country.

At 10 pm, we finally reached Besisahar, completely worn out from a day of riding. After dinner, we went straight to bed. 

The next morning, we set off early for Manang, planning to have breakfast along the way. After crossing the Marsyangdi Hydropower Tunnel, we reached the dam side. Riding alongside the serene Marsyangdi River, with sweeping vistas of emerald hills and timeless villages, was an unforgettable experience.

At around 1 pm, we stopped at Chyamche for brunch. Most travelers pause here not only for food but to admire the majestic Boong Waterfall. Soon after, we came across another stunning cascade: the Octopus Waterfall, a favorite among travelers. We spent nearly half an hour there, soaking in its beauty.

The higher we climbed, the more breathtaking the landscape became. Yet, some stretches of the road were in a deplorable state, a reminder of the government’s negligence in developing infrastructure and promoting Manang’s tourism potential.

After several hours of challenging but rewarding riding, we reached Chame, the district headquarters of Manang, situated at 2,670 meters. Surrounded by dense pine forests, Chame is a key stop on the Annapurna Circuit and provides essential services to trekkers. We rested there for a while, enjoying the untamed beauty of the village.

Next, we headed toward Bhratang (2,900 meters)—the apple paradise—where we sampled a few varieties of apple wine, arguably the best in Nepal.

By the time we entered Pisang (3,250 meters), we were mesmerized by the surrounding beauty. The magnificent views of Annapurna II, Annapurna IV, Gangapurna, and Tilicho Peak, framed by pine forests, made us forget all our fatigue.

At around 6 pm, we finally reached Manang, our destination. The following morning, we spent time exploring the village and observing local life before setting out to visit the lakes, which was the main goal of our journey.

Green Lake

Nestled at an elevation of 3,600–3,650 meters, Green Lake is one of Manang’s hidden treasures. Known for its crystal-clear green waters and serene surroundings, it offers peace, panoramic mountain views, and refreshing alpine air. The lake’s radiant surface mirrors Annapurna II, Annapurna III, Gangapurna, and Pisang Peak, a living canvas of nature’s perfection.

The trail to the lake winds through lush forests and alpine meadows. Once revered as a sacred site, the lake has been gradually drying up. Locals say it began losing water after visitors started disrespecting its sanctity and littering the area. Authorities have since installed a notice board urging visitors not to litter or relieve themselves near the lake.

Gangapurna Lake

Gangapurna Lake, formed by glaciers from Gangapurna (7,454m), Annapurna IV (7,525m), Khangsar Kang, and Glacier Dome, sits at 3,540 meters. Its turquoise waters, framed by towering peaks, make it one of Manang’s most photogenic sites.

The lake also serves as a popular acclimatization hike for trekkers based in Manang village. In recent years, its popularity has surged among Indian tourists following the shooting of the Bollywood film Uunchai.

Blue Lake (Chindi Lake)

Locally known as Chindi Lake, the Blue Lake is a relatively new discovery in Manang. A pristine spring-fed lake, it enchants visitors with its vibrant turquoise hue and tranquil atmosphere. The trail leading to it meanders through verdant forests, and on a clear day, visitors can see the reflection of Annapurna III shimmering on its surface.
Cradled on the lap of the Annapurna range, Chindi Lake radiates an untouched beauty that makes it a must-visit destination for those seeking peace and solitude.

Ice Lake (Kicho Tal)

Perched at 4,620 meters, Ice Lake, locally known as Kyopar Lake, is one of Manang’s crown jewels. The hike from Bhraka takes five to six hours, depending on one’s pace. The route winds through alpine pastures and rugged terrain, offering sweeping views of Annapurna II, III, IV, Gangapurna, Tilicho Peak, and the Chulu range.

At around 4,000 meters, the crisp mountain air and boundless views reveal how truly rich Nepal is in natural beauty. Before reaching Ice Lake, trekkers encounter Khicho Lake, another small but beautiful body of water. Beyond its natural allure, Ice Lake also holds religious significance for locals.

Manang needs little introduction. It is not just a trekking hub leading to Thorong La Pass and Tilicho Lake, but a place where nature, culture, and adventure converge in perfect harmony.

Photos: Achitra Thieng

There is a lot of content on YouTube that can get quite confusing at times. How do you get to the good stuff? How do you know what is up to your taste? Are you missing out on interesting and important content while randomly scrolling through YouTube? We at ApEx are constantly hunting for fresh, new content that opens our eyes and minds to things we weren’t aware about or in areas that pique our interest. We are actively seeking recommendations from those around us and this week, we thought we would share some of them with you. 

Chalchitra Talks

Run by a community of pop culture enthusiasts, Chalchitra Talks can be found both on Instagram and YouTube. They give out recommendations of their favorite books, movies, shows, music, poetry and more. They also bring in guests and have them talk about their love for all forms of art. The same team also has another channel called ‘Kitaabi Cabins’ that focuses mostly on giving book recommendations and reviewing books they have read. 

Bright Side

With over 44m subscribers on YouTube, Bright Side has many videos on history, knowledge, and how-to trivia among many other things. You will learn many interesting things and be armed with important information that will make your life simpler and safer. The animated format of the videos make for a fun watch and you will not be bored for even a second. 

Apartment Therapy

If you are a decor enthusiast, then you must follow this channel on YouTube. There are house tours, decor ideas, small space enhancements, kitchen and bathroom makeovers, and many other videos with ideas on how to transform your home into a space that feels cozy and oozes personality. We are sure you will be binge watching videos on this channel as they are fun and interesting. 

Christina Mychas

If you are on a journey to make your life more eco-friendly and sustainable, then this channel is for you. There are over 500 videos on how to minimize consumption, buy less, use what you have, make more money, and improve your life among others here. Christina also gives you fashion tips on dressing better, building a capsule wardrobe, and not giving into trends. All in all, there is a lot here in this channel you can take away to live a more conscious life. 

A diyo (oil lamp) is an essential part of many Nepali households. Despite its deep cultural and spiritual significance, traditional diyo making is a dying profession, as electric lights and decorative alternatives are becoming more common in religious rituals. Members of the Prajapati caste have long been known for their skilled work with clay. To understand the current state of diyo making, ApEx spoke with some members of the Prajapati community.

Shiva Prasad Prajapati

Yes, it’s true that diyo holds cultural significance in our households. Even today, many rituals and pujas are incomplete without lighting a fresh diyo. That connection to our roots still exists, and I’m proud to be part of preserving that tradition. With modern electric lights and battery-operated alternatives, the younger generation often finds them more convenient. This shift has definitely impacted the demand for traditional clay diyo, but still the amount of the diyo we make are more as usual. Many of us do it more for the love of the craft and to keep our heritage alive than for profit. I believe if more people understood the effort and meaning behind each diyo, they might choose it over mass-produced or electric alternatives.

Ranjana Prajapati

I learned this craft from my parents. Lighting a diyo every morning feels like lighting the blessings for the day. But these days, it’s getting harder. Fewer people come to buy clay diyo, especially young people. They prefer electric lights or decorative items that are easier to manage. I understand—times are changing, but it still hurts to see something so meaningful being replaced. For us, making diyo is not just for festivals; it’s a way of holding on to culture. I just hope the new generation also sees the value in these small, sacred things.

Budhi Ram Prajapati

During Tihar or even daily rituals, everyone used to light clay diyo. My hands have shaped thousands of them, each one with care, knowing it will light someone’s prayer or celebration. Now, people want quick solutions—electric lights, plastic decorations. The art of making diyo is slowly fading, and young people don’t want to learn. There’s not much income, and it’s hard on the body too, especially at my age. This year I didn’t do any of it because of my condition. This is not just work, it’s my identity but I feel very weak these days to do it alone. Some loyal customers still come, especially elders who know the value of real clay diyo.