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Kamal Dev Bhattarai, editor at The Annapurna Express, abruptly asked me, “How many girlfriends do you have?”

He was clearly joking, but the question hit me—it stirred something in my mind. A flurry of feelings began rising and falling like waves. To comfort myself, I thought: in the prime of my youth, many girls were drawn to me. Believe it or not, there’s no boast in this—just a matter of fact. Some may dismiss it as vanity, others as self-praise. But as they say, self-praise is no recommendation, and I’ve always avoided that path.

Back in the 1960s, I had the opportunity to tour several foreign countries—nearly all of India, Thailand, Hong Kong, the Philippines, Japan, North Korea, and more. We flew via Royal Nepal Airlines to Calcutta and New Delhi, and from there, drove along the Grand Trunk Road to Haryana and Punjab. Haryana stood out to me—an agrarian heartland that had turned barren land into one of the most productive regions through the Bhakra Nangal Dam. That project, championed by India’s first Prime Minister, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, is globally recognized as a transformative achievement. Similarly, I visited the Suez Canal in Africa, built under the leadership of President Gamal Abdel Nasser.

I must admit, I often get carried away with my thoughts and stray from the main subject—please excuse me for that. But to return to the central question: how many girlfriends did I have?

This could be viewed from two angles: one, through the lens of physical attraction; the other, through the lens of family background and wealth. But rarely can both be found in balance. Personally, I’ve always preferred quiet elegance, paired with refined behavior—a sentiment that comes from the heart.

Without exaggeration, I open up a little about my youthful days. I was often chased by my college classmates, though I considered myself somewhat shy and reserved. A line from an old Indian movie comes to mind:

“Kaliyan ki muskaan hain, bhanwara bada nadan”— which loosely means, “The flowers are smiling, but the bee remains oblivious.” The metaphor is rich and sensitive—highlighting the magnetic power of charm and music, leaving the rest for onlookers to interpret.

That said, I remain content and confident. I believe that love and affection should be enduring—not just passing fascinations. True love must go deeper than mere excitement; it must be rooted in values. Influenced by Oriental philosophy, this belief has stayed with me. I was born a Nepali and wish to remain one—forever and always.

During a visit to Gujarat, possibly to Damodar Kund, Narendra Modi, the current prime minister of India, had just launched an initiative to preserve cultural heritage. As part of our tour, one lady from the Ladies’ Wing of the hosting department welcomed our delegation. Our team leader, Mr. Pratap Singh Basnet—an Ivy League graduate from Cornell University—introduced me as the youngest member of our ten-person team, a bachelor and a dedicated officer. I respectfully greeted everyone with a Namaskar.

That lady seemed quite taken by me. After our visit, Mr. Basnet, who had faith in my commitment to the Rural Development Department, told me the woman had expressed interest in marrying me to her only daughter. But I declined. I couldn’t accept giving up my Nepali identity or citizenship—not under any circumstances.

From there, we flew to Thailand, then onward to Hong Kong (then still a British colony), although we had no official program there. Next, we headed to Manila, the capital of the Philippines. During our reception, we mingled with participants from both countries. One humorous Filipino participant advised me, “Whenever you meet a Filipina, just say ‘Mahal Kita.’” I did so, innocently, to a quiet young woman who remained close to me throughout the tour.

It wasn’t until later that I asked another Filipino friend what Mahal Kita meant. He laughed and said, “It means ‘I love you.’”

I was shocked.

So, Kamal ji—does this address your playful curiosity? It’s all connected to your unexpected yet amusing question. I’ll share more next time, perhaps from my future academic venture to the Midwest, at Grant University.

Mithila is a land of legends, vibrant culture, and an unbroken cycle of fairs and festivals that weave through the year like a colorful tapestry. These celebrations are not mere events but a way of life—expressing joy, sorrow, hope, and resilience. They mark the changing seasons, infusing meaning into everyday existence while strengthening the bonds of community.

Among these festivals, Rama Navami stands out, heralding the arrival of spring and celebrating the birth of Lord Rama. Observed on the ninth day of the bright lunar fortnight (Shukla Paksha) in the month of Chaitra (April), it is marked by grand fairs, devotional songs, and fervent worship.

According to ancient lore, King Dashrath of Ayodhya—a prosperous and benevolent ruler—was childless despite having three devoted queens. Distressed, he performed a sacred yagna (fire ritual) upon Lord Vishnu’s advice. Pleased by his devotion, the gods bestowed upon him a bowl of kheer (rice pudding). Another version narrates that the fire god Agni himself emerged from the yagna and presented the divine dessert.

Dashrath distributed the kheer among his queens: Kaushalya, Kaikeyi, and Sumitra. In time, Kaushalya gave birth to Rama, Kaikeyi to Bharat, and Sumitra to the twins Lakshman and Shatrughan. Thus, Rama, the divine prince and embodiment of virtue, was born.

On Rama Navami, devotees fast, chant Rama’s name, and recite sacred texts like Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas in the Tarai-Madhes region and Bhanubhakta’s Ramayan in Nepal’s hills and Kathmandu Valley. Temples dedicated to Rama resonate with hymns, and the faithful immerse themselves in prayer, seeking blessings and solace.

The life of Rama has been immortalized in countless versions across languages and cultures. Valmiki’s Ramayan, the original Sanskrit epic, chronicles his journey through seven kandas (episodes), from his childhood (Bal Kand) to his final years (Uttar Kand).

Inspired by Valmiki, poets like Bhanubhakta (Nepali), Tulsidas (Hindi), and Chanda Jha (Maithili) retold the epic in their own tongues, each adding unique literary brilliance. Beyond South Asia, Rama’s story thrives—Thailand’s Ramakien, Indonesia’s Kakawin Ramayana, and other adaptations testify to his enduring legacy.

Rama is revered not just as a god but as the perfect human—an obedient son, a devoted husband, and a just ruler. His birth anniversary, Rama Navami, transcends borders, uniting devotees in Nepal, India, and beyond.

It is said that hearing Rama’s tale purifies the soul, and chanting his name alleviates suffering. Thus, this festival is not merely a ritual but a reaffirmation of faith, virtue, and the timeless wisdom of the Ramayan.

World Autism Awareness Day, observed on April 2nd, aims to promote understanding and acceptance of individuals with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). This day serves as an opportunity to raise awareness about autism. For many, autism is still a relatively misunderstood condition, with varying levels of awareness across generations. ApEx spoke to three people to find out how aware they are about this condition. 

Amos Bhomjan, 22

Autistic people are differently abled but they also have extraordinary capabilities. I came to know about autism when I was really young but I don’t exactly remember how and when. I think that the current generation is aware about autism but the older generation didn’t understand it much and thus there were many myths about it. I once attended a seminar where a pediatrician was talking about autism with a group of parents. I think the medical fraternity is trying hard to make people understand what it is and how to deal with it and that’s a good start. 

Aayushma Bhattarai, 24

⁠I heard about autism eight years ago, let’s say when I was 16-17 years old. But I started understanding it only a few years back. ⁠I don’t think people in Nepal really know what autism is. The younger generation who are educated and active on social media might know about it but the vast majority is still fairly unaware. I think people widely use social media these days so the best way to create awareness would be to use different online platforms. However there’s a lot of miscommunication and misunderstanding  in social media as well and that should be monitored wisely.

Rakesh Prajapati, 33

I was about 21 years old when I came to know about autism and I don’t think normally people know what autism is in Nepal. I have to admit that I came to understand it very late in life. And I must confess that till this date I’m not fully aware of what it is actually like. I think the school curriculum should include autism and awareness campaigns must be conducted among the senior or the middle aged citizens to make more people aware about it. This can help empower autistic people in the long run. 

Let’s look at Post-Legislative Scrutiny (PLS) as a progress report card of laws prepared after evaluating and analyzing legislation based on its performance en route to its expected objective.  It is an effective tool for probing whether the legislation is operative and effectively adapting to the socio-cultural dynamics of society. Legislation is a very precise and objective document that should not be stagnant. It needs to be dynamic and adaptive to the socio-cultural time and realities, and this is exactly why the PLS needs to come into play. Primarily, PLS helps contextualize laws and keeps them synchronized with the changing reality. While this is a substantially accepted concept, is it limited to only contextualizing the existing laws and to legislation’s harmonization to meet its objectives. Diving into granular deconstruction it is not only limited to that, PLS also accounts for reviewing the executives’ performance in ensuring the legislation’s futility and legislation meeting its objectives. PLS definitely reflects the law-making and executing body’s capacity in terms of adapting to the changing dynamics and efficiency in updating laws to stay relevant.  

Example of PLS for a larger Nepali context

To understand the poignant situation of PLS in our legislative mechanism let’s take the example of the first PLS to be ever done in Nepal which was on The Social Practices Reform Act 2033, a complacent act that was unperturbed by the social realities. The law includes provisions like criminalization of weddings hosted with more than 51 guests and bans extravagant decorations or gatherings that are a part of societal norms. This law for two decades remained free from any form of scrutiny standing with full legal authority but with zero social acceptance. 

In light of this, PLS should have analyzed the legislation’s social perception and monitored its acceptance and adaptability along with any form of reluctance way back when it started becoming irrelevant. It highlights the situation legislation might face, shedding light on the importance of PLS to track the existing laws and giving them periodic report cards of their performance along with recommendations. This would help in repairing imperfections, and contextualizing laws that have failed the test of time through amendments, repeal, and introduction of new unified codes. The legislative realm and PLS have many expectations, but they remain unaltered which is evident as laws like—The Civil Service Act 2048, and the Police Act 2012 desperately waiting to be revisited.   

Post legislative scrutiny is evolving into a global legislative bandwagon. However, PLS is in its blooming phase and navigating through to the social and legislative consciousness and is still facing challenges in implementation. To begin with, we are already falling short when it comes to prioritizing the PLS, additionally, its core being an advisory instrument, and not enforceable, highly hinders its easy adoption and giving it due consideration. A report by the legislative management committee in 2023 indicates that the implementation status of directions from PLS reports is mediocre. Similarly, the Law, Justice and Human Rights Committee of the House of Representatives has not shown satisfactory execution of its PLS findings. Nepal with its not-so-impressive trajectory when it comes to listening and acting upon the ‘advisory’ reports is rather underwhelming and since PLS is all about offering input and proposing recommendations in the absence of enforcement of the prevailing laws, it is rather treated with the lack of gravity than it deserves. 

How can we bring PLS to the forefront? 

We should embrace PLS as a core element of the legislative cycle and institutionalize it. In 2018, PLS was initially only under the scope of work of the National Assembly’s Legislative Management Committee. The committee then drafted and included—evaluation, study, and research on the implementation status of the Act under its work parameters, however, up until now, the protocol has been developed and given to the speaker but hasn’t been released yet. The process for assessing the state of law implementation must be decided by the speaker of the house. Understandably, the concept of PLS is new in Nepal however our legislative framework is taking longer than expected to familiarize. 

However, the predominant issue here is that laws do not have mandatory PLS clauses. It is rather inconvenient and the hitch will proceed to last as long as we do not have a blanket PLS provision covering all the acts. As of now, only a dozen of the newly drafted laws include the provision of the relevant ministries evaluating the implementation of laws after five years from their enactment. Yet, PLS will not be in full working order unless the Bill relating to management of legislation 2080 takes effect as it also has a similar PLS provision that will blanketly apply to all the laws. 

Hence, parliamentary practice in Nepal has been focused on legislating laws after a swamp of problems arose in a wholesale way with collective amendments through single acts, which is a legislative disaster on its own. If PLS were to be effectively implemented at regular intervals, this swamping legislation would be replaced by effective and proactive amendments or better laws. 

Currently, only seven of the acts have been scrutinized at the federal level including full act PLS, partial provision scrutiny, regulation, and procedure review. Karnali and Lumibni provinces have started scrutinizing their laws too. We now also need proper communication channels within the tiers of parliament for the PLS coordination. 

All three—Legislature, Executive, and Judiciary—should be involved in the PLS process and upskill all human resources engaged, especially in thematic PLS.  

We may look at the UK as an example, the cabinet office has been providing ministries with comprehensive PLS assistance since March 2008, and in 2022, the Guide to Making Legislation was reprinted with PLS-specific instructions. The laws are mandatorily reviewed three to five years after receiving royal assent. The finest feature of the UK PLS model has to be its cooperative method that involves both the government and parliament in the process. This is something that can be adopted here too. From a practical standpoint, when it comes to law-making or proposing necessary amendments, it is the relevant ministry that sets the motion. However, there should be a clear distinction between the roles of each body involved as PLS is the primary responsibility of the legislature thus, the parliament and the committees should hold the ultimate authority concerning the final recommendation PLS report. 

Similarly, the judiciary can also be involved and play a crucial role in driving the PLS efforts. The Legal Aid Act 2054 is a significant example. The act was in the shadows for a long time until judicial intervention pumped life into it but even after that, the law remains intact and there have been fewer concerns about its overall provisions. Although a notable step was taken by bringing forth the unified legal aid procedure 2078, is it monitored, and evaluated? and is the government effectively working to ensure people’s access to legal aid? A PLS could be a way to go.