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Have the people of South Asia ever been asked about their feelings on regional cooperation and integration? Every time the Yusof Ishak Institute (ISEAS), one of the most prominent Asian think tanks focused on international relations, releases its annual State of Southeast Asia Survey Report—the latest edition of which was issued just weeks ago—this is the question I inevitably find myself asking.

As a European who strongly believes in the process of regional integration as demonstrated by the EU, I cannot stop thinking about how much better off South Asia as a whole would be if a stronger regional integration process existed. The fact that India and Pakistan do not get along, and the persistent state of tension between the two nations, has long been seen as a structural impediment to deeper regional cooperation. 

Realistically speaking, it is undeniable that the nature of this semi-permanent hostility between Islamabad and New Delhi is genuinely problematic for fostering what remains an unfinished and very incomplete process of bringing the nations of South Asia and their people closer together.

Yet at the same time, it has also become something of a convenient excuse to stop thinking about regional cooperation altogether.

Acknowledging the improbability of a political reset—one that might resuscitate the near-moribund South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC)—should not foreclose a pan-South Asian conversation about it.

The interests of the people of the region, especially its youth, may at this moment be overtaken by more pressing daily concerns such as the fight against corruption or the pursuit of a more equitable economy. But they could, once again, become galvanized around the tangible gains of a stronger, more united South Asia. The current impasse, caused by the fraught India-Pakistan relationship, should not be a barrier to imagining what deeper cooperation—and perhaps, one day, even integration—might look like across the region.

So is there anything the current chair of SAARC—which, owing to the dysfunction of the regional cooperation process, remains Nepal—could do? It is true that the Balen Shah administration is wholly focused on internal reforms. But from a practical standpoint, not merely a symbolic one, Kathmandu could and should invest in reactivating a conversation about a more cooperative and potentially more united South Asia.

At this juncture, symbolism matters enormously, and this is where Shishir Khanal, Nepal’s new Foreign Affairs Minister, could make his mark. Imagine the following scenario. It is early morning, and preparations at the central campus of Tribhuvan University are underway to host the inaugural Future of South Asia Lecture, organized by the Department of International Relations and Diplomacy (DIRD). The keynote speaker is not the Secretary General of SAARC but Minister Khanal himself, who uses the occasion to lay out the government’s vision for reactivating the regional cooperation process.

Rather than confining the discussion to SAARC, it might make more sense to think beyond traditional frameworks and focus on what could be achieved if the nations of the region worked more—and more effectively—together.

To be clear: I am a supporter of SAARC. I am, in fact, more enthusiastic about a holistic regional process than about placing too much weight on minilateral mechanisms among select member states. Trilateral arrangements such as those between India, Nepal, and Bangladesh, or quadrilateral initiatives like the Bangladesh-Bhutan-India-Nepal (BBIN) framework to boost sub-regional transportation, are practical and worthwhile. But can these formats truly substitute for the more structural, overarching, and ambitious process that encompasses all SAARC nations?

There is considerable evidence that when nations work together, their economies grow substantially—and the benefits extend well beyond trade to encompass the many dimensions of cooperation that deepen people-to-people ties.

Yet reactivating the public imagination around regional cooperation solely through the lens of SAARC may not be effective, given the objections many would raise—chief among them, the lack of political will in New Delhi to even utter the word ‘SAARC’.

Focusing on the vision rather than the vehicle to achieve it can be a smart way to navigate, for now, what is perceived in New Delhi as a taboo subject. Minister Khanal could use his address to articulate a long-term dream for the region—one in which people’s mobility is greatly enhanced, doing business across South Asian borders is seamless, and a new generation of young people can participate in a pan-regional student exchange program.

In the second part of his speech, Minister Khanal could sketch out practical confidence-building measures to restart the dialogue on regional cooperation. As I have argued before, Nepal could convene a regional summit outside the purview of SAARC, inviting all South Asian leaders to Kathmandu for a frank conversation on concrete ways to work together. Even if India or Pakistan declined, others might still attend.

This requires audacity, but that is precisely why Prime Minister Shah chose to seek national office.

In this imagined lecture, Minister Khanal could announce that Kathmandu will prioritize both a national and a regional conversation on cooperation—branded as the “Nepal for South Asia” Initiative: the most ambitious foreign affairs undertaking Kathmandu has ever conceived.

Beyond the bold announcement of a regional summit, the initiative could encompass a range of complementary activities: an annual South Asia Essay Competition for students; a fellowship program for young scholars from across the region to spend a year in Kathmandu, hosted by local think tanks, working on South Asian issues; a master's and PhD program in South Asian Studies run by DIRD; a People-to-People South Asian Summit bringing together civil society voices from across the region; and, perhaps most significantly, the first-ever State of South Asia Survey Report—gauging what the people of the region actually think and feel about their shared future.

Minister Khanal should also encourage SAARC’s current leadership to do more to highlight the bloc's ongoing activities. SAARC is on life support, but it is not dead. Its institutions—regional research centers and thematic initiatives—are not entirely paralyzed, but they need support, even moral support. Reactivating a conversation about South Asia could also help build incremental trust between India and Pakistan, one step at a time.

Nepal can take the lead in restarting the project of regional cooperation. SAARC as an institution may eventually be rebooted, rebranded, or superseded by an entirely new pan-South Asian mechanism. What matters now is beginning the conversation.

The stakes are too high, the potential too vast, and the benefits of a cooperative South Asia too significant to let timidity prevail.

Will Minister Khanal and the Balen administration play bold, or will they retreat into a focus on purely national priorities? Perhaps the new government in Kathmandu should not forget that Nepal’s national interests are inextricably rooted in a prosperous and more united South Asia.

I would like to imagine the closing words of Minister Khanal’s address: “Nepal can pursue its national goals of prosperity, inclusivity, and wellbeing by freeing our politics from corruption and bringing people closer to decision-making through a new compact of good governance. Yet our future—our destiny—is also inextricably tied to our sisters and brothers across South Asia. Engaging our regional partners is not only an economic imperative. It is a moral duty to build a stronger, more connected, and more united South Asia.”

Every time the price of fuel rises in Nepal, the country performs a familiar ritual. Taxes are cut. Allowances are slashed. Officials speak of austerity. The nation tightens its belt, waits for the global market to settle, and then quietly returns to exactly the position it occupied before: exposed, dependent, and holding barely ten days of petroleum in reserve.

This is not crisis management. It is a crisis theater. And we have been performing it, with minor variations, from time immemorial. The current shock, crude prices surging past a hundred dollars a barrel amid conflict in West Asia, fuel prices in Kathmandu hitting record highs four times in a single month, is being spoken of as an external catastrophe, something visited upon Nepal from the outside. That framing may be comforting, but it is also dishonest. What is being experienced now is not the cruelty of circumstance. It is the harvest of a structural negligence so deeply embedded that successive governments have learned to mistake it for normalcy.

A decade ago, Nepal's economy was brought to its knees when fuel supply through the southern border was disrupted for nearly five months. Nepal Rastra Bank put the damage at Rs 202.5bn, roughly a quarter of the national budget, and estimated that eight lakh people were pushed into poverty that winter. When it was over, the promise was absolute: Nepal would build strategic petroleum reserves sufficient to last 90 days.

Today, a decade later, Nepal holds 10-13 days of fuel reserves.

The economics are blunt: Nepal spends Rs 300bn annually on petroleum, double the value of all merchandise exports combined. One in every seven rupees spent on imports goes to fuel. Nepal Rastra Bank research confirms it is the velocity of the price shock, not just the level, that destabilises the economy; spikes ripple through freight and agriculture faster than wages can adjust. For the three in four households reliant on remittances, every diesel hike is a silent tax on the money sent home from the Gulf, devaluing the hard-earned rupee before it ever reaches the kitchen.

The damage is already visible in the data. As reported by Nepal Rastra Bank, based on eight months’ data ending mid-March of fiscal year 2025-26, Nepal’s year-on-year consumer price index (CPI) rose to 3.62 percent, a 2.5 percentage-point increase in just four months, even before the full impact of the current oil shock had passed through the economy. Vegetable prices increased by 11.49 percent. In Madhesh province, where households are especially exposed to border-price volatility, inflation reached 4.95 per cent, nearing the central bank’s policy ceiling. The rupee has hit a record low of
Rs 150.24 to the dollar.  If crude holds above a hundred dollars for long, historical pass-through patterns from 2015 and 2022 suggest headline CPI will breach five per cent by monsoon, the trade deficit will widen further, and the NRB’s accommodative monetary stance will become untenable. And because Nepal has no buffer stock to draw down, no mechanism to smooth supply disruptions, and no protocol to ration strategically, the full weight of any further escalation will land, unmediated, on households least equipped to carry it.

What makes this difficult to defend is not the vulnerability itself. Nepal is landlocked, import-dependent and subject to geopolitical pressures it cannot fully control. The tragedy is that the vulnerability is entirely knowable in advance and has been for years. Strategic petroleum reserves are the most elementary form of national insurance. The International Energy Agency sets ninety days as the global standard. 

Nepal, with the full knowledge of what 10 days means, holds 10 days.

There is no technical explanation for this. The argument has never been that reserves are impossible to build. It is that they have never been made a legislative obligation, never written into law with a deadline, a penalty and a mechanism for enforcement. Every government has treated it as a target rather than a threshold. Targets, in the history of Nepali governance, have an unhappy tendency to drift.

The reason they drift is written into the statute books, or rather, written out of them entirely. Nepal’s petroleum sector, a business worth over 3bn rupees annually and the country’s single greatest strategic vulnerability, operates without a governing law. The Nepal Petroleum Act, 2040 (1983) deals exclusively with upstream exploration; it says nothing about imports, storage, pricing, or emergencies. The Nepal Oil Corporation operates under its own internal procedures, not statutes. No Energy Security Act has ever been drafted, let alone tabled in parliament. 

The contrast with our neighbours is instructive. India’s strategic reserves, backed by dedicated legislation, buy New Delhi the time Nepal lacks. Sri Lanka and Bangladesh offer a harsher warning: laws without teeth are useless. Sri Lanka’s 2007 mandate went unenforced, leading to its 2022 collapse, while Bangladesh’s energy fund was raided for routine costs. The lesson is clear: legislation without ring-fenced funding and accountability is merely decorative. Nepal’s law must be designed to survive what theirs could not.

The new government has come to power on a genuinely different kind of mandate and, within 48 hours, published a hundred-point governance roadmap. It is, in many places, remarkably specific. There are timelines for electricity export strategy (30 days), power purchase agreements (six months), digital file tracking, blue bus services for women, free wi-fi in public spaces, and a mandatory 25-day payment window for agricultural produce. 

But there is no timeline for building petroleum reserves. There is not even a mention of petroleum reserves. A government that is trying to build an identity on delivery-based governance has produced a hundred measurable commitments and left out the country’s single largest import, its single greatest vulnerability, the single most consequential oversight of the past.

That omission can still be corrected. Political capital of this magnitude does not last. Building 60 days of strategic reserves would cost Nepal roughly two per cent of GDP, less than the country lost in a single month of the 2015 blockade, and within reach of a dedicated import levy, a ring-fenced reserve fund that parliament cannot raid, and bilateral partnerships already on the table. What has been missing is not the money. It is the statute. Nepal needs an Energy Security Act: a minimum 60-day reserve within three years, an independent monitoring body, ring-fenced funding, and ministerial accountability for non-compliance.

Not a target. A floor. Not a policy. A law.

Nepal will face another crisis that is not its own, another border disruption, another geopolitical tremor that sends fuel prices to record highs and brings queues back to petrol stations. The question is not whether that day will come. It is whether the country will have 10 days, or whether it will finally have built itself a margin of survival. This government can settle it. Or it can perform the ritual again and leave the debt for the next.

Foreign trade data of the first nine months of the current fiscal year, released by the Department of Customs earlier this week, show exports are rising at a healthy pace. This should have been welcome news for an import-dependent economy like ours. 

However, the underlying structure is fragile and heavily dependent on a narrow set of products and markets. This imbalance continues to expose the economy to external shocks and policy risks, particularly from its largest trading partner, India.

Nepal exported products worth Rs 222.93bn between mid-July last year to mid-March of the current fiscal year. This marked an 18.46 percent increase compared to the same period last year. On a daily basis, exports averaged around Rs 825m. At first glance, the growth looks healthy. However, the composition of the country’s exports trade reveals a different picture. A significant portion, over Rs 90bn, of the country’s total export earnings came from processed soybean oil alone.

The country’s export growth is being driven less by domestic industrial depth and more by opportunistic trade. Nepal imports crude palm and soybean oil from countries as far as Argentina, processes it to meet rules of origin requirements, and re-exports the finished product to India to cash in on preferential treatments. Nepali refineries imported crude soybean oil worth Rs 96.72bn during the review period. 

This model is working simply due to tariff differentials and preferential trade arrangements rather than genuine value addition or competitive manufacturing. Such a structure, however, is unstable. A policy change in India, such as revising import duties, tightening rules of origin, or discouraging re-export-based trade, could sharply reduce or even eliminate Nepal’s largest export stream overnight. India has done it in the past. The southern neighbor has been adjusting its tariff regime periodically to protect domestic industries. Any move in that direction could significantly impact edible oil exports from Nepal.

Except for processed edible oils, Nepal’s export basket is relatively thin. Traditional exports like cardamom, carpets, pashmina, tea, and garments are contributing and posting healthy growths. However, none of these products approach the scale of edible oil exports. Nepal may have a competitive edge in these products. However, they face several constraints, ranging from quality consistency and certification issues to supply chain inefficiencies and limited branding.

Meanwhile, imports surged 13.82 percent to Rs 1.49trn. Imports over a single month, i.e. Chaitra (mid-March to mid-Apply), crossed the Rs 200bn mark for the first time. The import bill remains heavily dominated by petroleum products, with diesel imports alone exceeding Rs 100bn, followed by petrol, LPG, and aviation fuel. Since Nepal is heavily dependent on imports, India to be more precise, petroleum imports continues to widen the trade deficit.

The trade deficit itself grew by 13.04 percent to Rs 1.27trn in nine months. The export-to-import ratio slipped slightly to 6.69 percent. Part of the rise in import value can be attributed to global price pressures, due to the crisis in West Asia and subsequent supply disruptions. However, the broader issue lies in our consumption-driven economy. Remittance inflows are sustaining demand for imported goods without a corresponding expansion in productive export sectors.

The customs data suggest that the export sector is growing, but on shaky foundations. The dominance of processed edible oil exports is creating an illusion of strength while masking deeper structural weaknesses. If this single pillar weakens, the overall export performance could deteriorate rapidly.

Nepal needs to diversify its trade if it intends to build a more resilient trade profile. Strengthening high-value, labor-intensive sectors such as garments, carpets, and agro-products, while also investing in new areas like hydropower exports, IT services, and niche manufacturing can be a step in that direction. Equally important is improving trade logistics, certification standards, and market access beyond India.

Rising prices are becoming a daily reality for consumers across Nepal, with the cost of transport, fuel, and essential goods climbing steadily over the past six months. Wherever you go, people are talking about the rising cost of goods and services. The issue has become so pressing that it is now discussed everywhere.

A few days ago, I used inDrive after about a month. It usually costs Rs 130–140 to travel from my office to home, but this time I paid Rs 210. When I spoke to the rider, he said, “Because of the high petrol cost, we have to raise prices to maintain our earnings.” 

Public transport fares within the Kathmandu Valley have also risen significantly in recent days. Fares increased by 25.96 percent, effective from April 11. The Department of Transport Management has applied this change not only to urban transport but also to long-distance passenger and service-oriented vehicles. Long-distance bus fares have increased by 16.71 percent.

Similarly, service vehicle charges have gone up, with goods carriers rising by 15.75 percent on Tarai routes and 21.68 percent on hilly roads, reflecting the broader impact of rising fuel costs. The situation is tied not only to domestic factors but also to the tensions in the Middle East involving Iran, Israel, and the United States. Concerns over disruptions in oil supply, especially through the strategically vital Strait of Hormuz, have driven up fuel prices, affecting import-dependent countries like Nepal.

People across Nepal have also struggled to access LPG gas, with many shifting to induction cooking due to shortages. The government has even implemented weekend holidays as a temporary measure to cope with fuel shortages and rising prices. These responses reflect a broader pattern of short-term adjustments rather than long-term solutions. Markets are becoming increasingly expensive, and many people can no longer afford basic goods at previous prices. Inflation is now visible across nearly every sector.

The Asian Development Bank warned last month that prolonged disruptions in energy markets could raise inflation in developing Asia and the Pacific by 3.2 percent and reduce economic growth in the region by 1.3 percent by 2026–2027.

“I travel daily from Kirtipur to Ratnapark for my graphic design internship, using my own vehicle,” said 25-year-old Rojesh Maharjan. “Earlier, petrol used to cost around Rs 100–150, but now it has reached around Rs 200.” “As an intern, I don’t earn much, and I spend around Rs 250 per day on fuel. It’s not enough. I often skip lunch to manage expenses,” he added. “Because of rising costs, I’ve started considering public transport when money is tight.”

“If prices continue to rise, salaries should increase accordingly. Only then can people cope,” Maharjan said.

Fuel prices have surged sharply between mid-March and mid-April, making the market increasingly unaffordable. Petrol, which cost Rs 157 per litre just a month ago, has risen by Rs 62 to Rs 219. Diesel and kerosene prices have also climbed significantly, from Rs 142 to Rs 237 per litre.

The impact is visible across sectors. LPG has increased by Rs 100, reaching Rs 2,010 per cylinder. Domestic aviation fuel prices have more than doubled, rising from Rs 127 to Rs 262 per litre, while international aviation fuel has jumped from $966 to $1,716 per kilolitre.

“Inflation is being driven by multiple factors, including ongoing conflict in the Middle East and supply chain disruptions,” said an official from the Department of Commerce, Supplies and Consumer Protection. “We seized around 6,300 LPG cylinders from dealers last month and redistributed them. Since then, such cases have declined,” the official added. “If we receive complaints of hoarding or black marketing, we will take action.”

Many people are aware of the broader causes. Rukesh Shah, 34, from Rautahat and now living in Bhaktapur, works collecting scrap materials.

“This situation has been created by tensions between Israel, the US, and Iran,” he said. “If India faces difficulties in securing goods, Nepal is in even greater trouble.” “Our income has remained the same, and as daily wage workers, we are sometimes paid even less. This directly affects our daily lives,” he said, urging the government to act.

Parbati Sah, a shopkeeper, said she understands the reasons behind rising prices. “Dealers tell us costs have increased, and they cannot sell at a loss,” she said. “In most items, prices have risen by around 23 to 30 percent.” She added that the situation has strained customer trust. “Customers often don’t believe us when we say prices have gone up. Sometimes we are forced to sell at lower prices and bear the loss.”

Her husband, who helps run the stall, said rising costs have forced them to adjust prices. “Earlier, we sold samosas for Rs 20; now they are Rs 25. Other items have also increased,” he said. “This has affected our small business.” He added that inflation is affecting more than just goods. “Room and shop rents have also increased, making it even harder to manage.”

A customer at the shop offered a different perspective: “Inflation is happening because of corruption and political rivalries among leaders,” he said, adding that this is how the situation appears from a consumer’s point of view. The cost of essential goods has also risen. Sunflower oil has increased by Rs 40 to Rs 295, while mustard oil has gone up to Rs 375 from Rs 325.

According to the Department of Commerce, the price of General Sona Mansuli rice in the Kathmandu Valley has increased by Rs 36, reaching Rs 95 per kg from Rs 59. Steamed Jeera rice has risen to Rs 102 per kg, while basmati rice now costs Rs 185 per kg. Other staples have also become more expensive. Maize flour now costs Rs 127 per kg, while wheat flour has risen to Rs 60 per kg.

Even water prices have increased in some areas. The Federation of Nepal Water Industries recently stated that shortages of raw materials—such as plastic bottles, caps, and packaging materials—have driven up production costs.

“The prices of raw materials used in the water industry have increased by around 40 percent,” the federation said. “This is not profit-driven but a result of rising production and transportation costs.” As a result, bottled mineral water in parts of Kathmandu now costs Rs 25–30, up from Rs 20.

As prices continue to rise across fuel, transport, and essential goods, the burden is falling most heavily on ordinary consumers. From commuters and daily wage workers to small business owners, many are being forced to cut expenses and adjust their lifestyles just to cope.

While global factors such as geopolitical tensions and supply disruptions play a role, public concern is growing over the lack of immediate relief and long-term solutions. Inflation is no longer just an economic indicator—it has become a lived reality shaping everyday decisions and survival.

Federation of Nepal Water Industries stated that raw material prices, including plastic bottles, caps, jars, and wrapping rolls, have risen by around 40 percent. “This is not a profit-oriented decision, but a forced situation,” the federation said. In several parts of Kathmandu, mineral water now sells for Rs 25–30, up from Rs 20.

As prices continue to climb, the burden falls hardest on ordinary people. Commuters, daily wage workers, small business owners are all forced to cut back and adjust just to get by. Global factors like geopolitical tensions and supply chain disruptions are significant contributors, but the public's growing frustration is with the absence of immediate relief and credible long-term solutions. Inflation is no longer just an economic indicator. It has become a lived reality, shaping everyday decisions and survival across Nepal.