Submit your Article

For Muskan Khatun, a 17-year-old girl from the southern town of Birgunj, life stopped being ordinary about two years ago.

On 6 September 2019, when she was on her way to school, a teenage boy threw concentrated acid on her face after she turned down his love proposal. The boy and his two companions ran away, leaving Muskan paralyzed with excruciating pain on her face and neck.

The boys were set free after six months of juvenile detention. Muskan’s face, and life, changed forever. During her stay at Kirtipur Hospital in Kathmandu, she had already made up her mind—she would henceforth work to save girls from acid attacks and other gender-related crimes.

The way she emerged stronger from the trauma, and the courage she showed in lobbying with the prime minister in drafting harsher laws against acid attacks, have been widely reported. On 5 March 2021, the American Department of State conferred on her the prestigious International Women of Courage (IWOC) award.

“I was stunned to know that for a heinous crime like acid attack, our law mandated only three to eight years of prison. The jail term was determined based on the damage to the victim’s body,” says Khatun. She recalls two-and-a-half months at Kritipur Hospital, where she was referred by the Narayani Hospital of Birgunj. There, she realized that great injustice was being done to victims who suffered for life while the attackers walked free after a few years in prison and led normal lives. She resolved to lobby for a more just law.

From the hospital bed, with her bandaged right hand, Khatun wrote a letter to Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, asking for stronger laws. “I had poured my emotions in the letter,” she recalls. “But I never got a reply.”

After several surgeries, Khatun was able to speak normally. She went to every forum to speak for justice for acid attack victims. “From then, I was determined to push for stricter laws to end such attacks,” she says. She and her family were under great pressure to stop speaking out. They even got life threats.

Among her many visitors in hospital, there was a girl with mangled hands who used to do chores with the help of her legs. “After seeing her, I got really motivated and encouraged,” Khatun says, adding, “I have learned that physical beauty is temporary; what makes us great is our struggle for a bigger cause.”

One day seven months ago, the then Attorney General Agni Kharel happened to hear Khatun talk on a television program. “As always, I was expressing my unfulfilled desire to meet the prime minister who had ignored my letter. But someone had heard.” She was excited when Kharel arranged an appointment with the prime minister.

In her meeting, she urged PM Oli to invite every acid attack survivor and listen to them. Shortly afterwards, the cabinet issued an ordinance that would punish even delinquent perpetrators and regulate the sale of acid and other concentrated chemicals.

Khatun’s initiative has been crucial in bringing about a bill (yet to be passed) proposing 20-year prison  term and seizing of property of acid attackers, as well as greater restrictions on acid sale. (Acid attackers aged 10-14 years have to spend five years in juvenile detention while those aged 15-18 have to spend 10 years in such homes). The bill also proposes the government bear all of the victims’ treatment and education expenses and assure them jobs.

Despite the bill attacks on girls continue in different forms. On 23 March, a 19-years old girl in Kathmandu was burnt with kerosene by her boyfriend. “This is all happening because of impunity, poor implementation of law and lack of awareness,” Khatun tells ApEx. She is also lobbying for stricter laws against rape and domestic violence.

Khatun has been appealing to the government, political parties, civil society organizations and ordinary citizens to run public awareness campaigns across the country. She reckons people in rural areas are unaware about where and how to file a complaint or a lawsuit against the perpetrators.

“Initially, I wanted to become a medical doctor. But the attack changed it all,” she shares with ApEx. “Now I have a bigger purpose. I want to give the victims a voice. I want to work as a social worker and human rights activist.”

To her, a permissive attitude and lack of public awareness are helping the perpetrators. “We should come forward and speak up. Please do not remain silent, as these offenders attack us thinking we are weak and vulnerable,” appeals Khatun.

The story behind “Anuprastha” is any high-schooler’s dream. A bunch of friends from different backgrounds meet at high school, their common musical interest bringing them close. Then they form a band to play for the school’s freshers, and that’s it. The band hits it off from the first gig itself and starts playing concerts. In a few years, it wins a huge music competition and in a few more, becomes of the most successful bands in the country. 

This is Anuprastha for you: a high-school band that started in 2004 and has since been a force to be reckoned with in the Nepali music scene. With its humble beginnings as a cover band that started in high school and then mostly played in the pub circuits of Thamel, the band won the first ever “Sprite Band Challenge 2008” which catapulted it to fame. 

The Sprite Band Challenge also gave the band a record deal, which resulted in the release of official music video of its popular song “Din” from its 2010 debut album “Anuprastha”.  The band, popular countrywide for live performances by then, released another album “What to do Kathmandu” in 2015.

As Anuprastha prepares to release its third album “Nepal Swarga Bhanda Thulo Cha” in the near future, it’s new music video for “Samjhera Malai” is already getting praises from new and old fans alike. The music video sets a benchmark in production quality. The rock ballad, which was originally included in the band’s debut album, has been rearranged and recorded and the music video has been made with cinematic visuals. 

“Now that we talk about it, everything sounds so smooth. But this has not been the case,” says Niran Shahi, the founding member and singer/guitarist of the band that has suffered many lineup changes in its almost 18 years of existence. “It’s one thing to form a band and play music in high school. Making this a profession is an entirely different ball game.”

With another founding member Govin Sunuwar (guitars) still with the band, Shahi now leads a young team of twenty-somethings—Manjil Raj Shrestha (drums), Laxman Dangol (bass) and Suresh Maharjan (percussions)—to complete the lineup of Anuprastha.

“It has taken us quite some time to bring back the stability in the band and now I think we are ready for bigger things to come our way,” Shahi says while in the middle of a Nepal tour promoting the band’s new music video. The band has survived highs and lows all these years, especially the pandemonium forced unto it by sudden departure of band members. Also, the band has felt its popularity decline in recent years. 

Shahi cites two main reasons behind the band not being able to consistently cash in on the success of its Sprit Band Challenge win. “Apart from lineup changes, we made the mistake of playing regularly at bars and pubs and also released low-cost, DIY music videos,” Shahi explains. “When a band plays regularly at bars and pubs, it loses audiences at bigger venues. Nobody would pay for tickets to watch you live when they get to see you for free every weekend.” So Anuprastha won’t be doing regular bar gigs from now. 

As for the music videos, Shahi says he has realized that after “Din”, which was produced by the organizers of the band challenge, Anuprastha made simpler music videos with local creators. This did not work in the band’s favor, Shahi feels. “Our audience probably expected more from us and we kind of disappointed them. After winning such a prestigious competition, we should have tried to live up to the audience’s expectations,” he says. So the band made no compromises in producing “Samjhera Malai,” which Niran feels has resurrected Anuprastha’s popularity to a large extent. 

Starting as teenagers and now in their 30s, a lot of things has changed for the band and its remaining founding members—Shahi and Sunuwar. With the changes in the lineup, the sounds have changed, which is a positive for the band, the current members believe. Also, with age, the band members’ responsibilities, commitments and financial burdens have increased. 

“We have been surviving through our music and that is exactly what we intend to do in the future,” Shahi says. No bar gigs means a loss of income but band members need not worry. At Shahi’s initiation, the ‘Anuprastha Music School’ is soon opening in Balaju, where the band members will be employed as teachers and mentors. 

“Anuprastha and the song ‘Din’ is a legacy I carry over from my elder brother,” says Shahi. “After giving it the best of our youth, there is no backing out now. We are in this for the long haul and Anuprastha will continue to release new music for its audiences.”

Having played lead roles in Nepali superhit movies “Pashupati Prasad” and “Talakjung vs Tulke”, Khagendra Lamichhane, 42, hardly needs an introduction. But there is more to his versatile personality, and it would be a shame, if not injustice, to ignore an equally skilled writer, director, and a theater artist in him.

Lamichhane’s first passion was writing, which still drives him the most. A big part of the success of the movies Talakjung vs Tulke (2014), Pasupati Prasad (2016), Dhanapati (2017), and Damaru ko Dandibiyo (2018) goes to his excellent off-the-beat script-writing.

As a movie director, Lamichhane will soon be meeting audiences with his upcoming “Paani Photo”, after having already directed plays and dramas including “Atal Bahadur Ko Aatanka”, and “Peeda Geet”.

Back in Pokhara in 1999, he got an early opportunity to train under Nepal’s well-known theater artists Anup Baral and Prakash Ghimire. “I learned a lot from them,” Lamichhane tells ApEx. The next year, he came to Kathmandu and joined Rastriya Naachghar as a student of Sunil Pokharel, putting him firmly on the path of show business.

Lamichhane grew up in Syangja district, an average village boy of Nepali hills, and with all the aspirations and frustrations of an angry young man. He went to college in Pokhara where he soon became a part of the local literary circle.

“Back then, I dreamed of becoming a writer,” he recalls. But at the same time, the theater roles he played at the time gave him “immense pleasure”.

He realized early in life the importance of expressing himself in writing. Expressing feelings, especially his dislikes, wasn’t easy for a child who grew up in a traditional society up where doing so would be considered ‘rude’ to elders. Boy Lamichhane thus started writing poems to vent his feelings. “Those were not excellent poems,” he recalls, but good enough to give him peace of mind.

Lamichhane is a keen observer of everyday human affairs and nothing that impacts people’s lives escapes him, and they all give him writing and acting ideas.

Lamichhane regards self-discipline as more important than actual art. “Self-discipline comes with maturity, and discipline improves your acting skills,” he shares. The discipline of stage came handy during his transition to the big screen.

If he has to select among writing, acting, and directing, Lamichhane says he would select writing without second thought. “Writing was a childhood dream that shaped the person that I am today,” he reflects,  adding that he feels satisfied when people call him an aspiring writer.  

“Even the actor and director in me are the product of my love of writing,” he adds.

He feels “excited and inspired” to recall that he came to Kathmandu with the dream of becoming a writer, and considers himself fortunate to have also gotten a chance to be an actor and director, “all because of people’s love.”

Lamichhane is not sure Nepal’s movie culture has overshadowed the local theater scene. No theater artist ever abandons theater, he says, adding it’s not uncommon for theater artists to be film actors and musicians, or vice-versa. “Theater adds to an actor’s maturity and confidence, allowing the person to excel in all art forms.”

Lamichhane says he finds it easy to act and direct based on his own script. But in that case there is the danger of the writer in him “dominating all aspects of film-making”.

Lamichhane’s career has seen some interesting turns. He worked for BBC Media Action as a drama writer, director, and editor for eight years. He had not applied for the job; it was his friend who had done so using his email address. It was also pure chance that he was invited to act in a movie, Manoj Pandit’s Badhshala released in April 2013.

The writer-actor-director doesn’t consider himself a man with long-term plan; he “goes with whatever attracts him the most at any given time.” His success mantra? Put everything into whatever you do. “If you put your heart into what you do, you can touch other people’s hearts as well,” he says.

This week, Kathmandu got to witness a rare musical subculture from eastern Nepal. A culture of brotherhood and camaraderie that bind followers with common love for music. Punk music and its various subgenres in this case. 

The musicians and audiences of Kathmandu, mostly aloof of what is happening in the eastern indie music scene, were initiated to the DIY culture brewing in the east. There, musicians are getting together to write original music, recording them and organizing gigs to support each other, without any outside interference. Where one can’t set the artist apart from the audience. Where any sort of income, if there is one, goes back into making and playing music. 

Retro Rocket from Itahari and Zero Brains from Dharan—who identify themselves as punk influenced indie-rock and emo-pop-punk respectively—are in Kathmandu, their first ever tour to the capital city. In a series of events that began at Beers and Cheers, Jhamsikhel, on March 20, the bands are taking over multiple venues in the city as part of the tour jointly supported by Kathmandu-based Noodle and Itahari-based KLM Records.

Zero Brains

“This tour was made possible only because of the brotherhood we have back home,” says Veesma Khanal, 25, emphasizing again the spirit of friendship that the bands back in the east share. “KLM Records, which comprises of musicians and supporters, joins us like a family.” KLM Records, as we are told, is a record label based in Itahari that binds musicians from cities in the east. The bands there share ideas, gear and even musicians to keep the DIY spirit alive. The record label was most active during the lockdown, releasing multiple tracks from local bands in punk/rock/alternative genres.

Veesma, who has previously lived in Kathmandu for almost a decade, says he found his calling in music only when he went back home. “I couldn’t do much in Kathmandu. I did not find the inspiration here. Back in Itahari, I got together with like-minded musicians to form Retro Rockets in 2016.” The band now has enough materials to release an album with proper studio recording, unlike the few demos it currently has on its YouTube channel. Zero Brains was established in 2018 and has been composing original music ever since, and is also preparing for an album.

For alternative artists like Zero Brains and Retro Rocket, making music has not been as difficult as playing live. “Most bands there play popular covers at pubs and bars. These musicians and venues don’t hold much regard for bands like us,” Veesma adds. “They think we don’t meet their standards.” So the real struggle for the DIY scene in cities like Dharan, Itahari, Biratnagar, Damak and the like is finding a proper venue to play in. The community of punk rockers gets together to find venues and cover costs involved in organizing gigs, also selling artist merchandise to raise funds.

“The Kathmandu scene is much better. There are more people and more venues than back home,” says Dexter Maden, guitarist/vocalist of Zero Brains. It is the first ever visit to Kathmandu for the 22-year-old and possibly his first exposure to mainstream media. The shy youngster lets Veesma answer most questions, only adding bits and pieces. “In Kathmandu, we have been made to feel at home and are expecting a good turnout at all our gigs.”

But although there are seemingly more opportunities in Kathmandu for both the bands, the artists have no intention of coming and settling here. They will come here for shows, will also help more bands tour Kathmandu, but will not move here, unlike most musicians of other genres. “Everyone has to come to Kathmandu sooner or later in search of better prospects—jobs, quality of life, education opportunities,” Veesma says. “We want to stay home for as long as possible, with the family we have earned there and continue to support the music scene in the east.”

Retro Rocket are:

Veesma Khanal on vocals

Sahil Sen on guitars/backing vocals

Utsav Acharya on guitars/synth/keys

Suman Pariyar on bass/backing vocals

Lav Sherpa on drums

Zero Brains are:

Dexter Maden on vocals/rhythm guitars

Homang Maden on lead guitars/backing vocals

Pratap Taman on bass

Lav sherpa on drums

Upcoming shows for the bands:

March 26: Tranzit, Maitighar

March 27: Shisha Lounge and Bar, Thamel

March 29: The Village Café, Jhamsikhel