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Every parent wants their child to be happy. For many, it is the deepest hope they carry, not just for today, but for a future they may not always be present to shape. Yet beneath this shared wish lies a harder question. What does happiness truly mean, and how do we raise children, who can hold on to it long after we are gone?

Happiness is often mistaken for comfort, success or constant affirmation. It is not found in stars on worksheets, top grades or the latest gadget. Nor does it come from shielding children from every frustration or failure. Deep and lasting happiness grows from something quieter and far more enduring. It comes from a sense of peace with oneself, from feeling secure in who you are, even when life becomes difficult or unpredictable. This kind of happiness cannot be given to a child. It must be built slowly through experience, setbacks and a steady inner belief that is not shaken by comparison or external approval.

Yet somewhere along the way, often out of love and concern, many parents begin protecting children from life rather than preparing them for it. In trying to smooth every path, we may unintentionally weaken the very qualities we hope to nurture. Some children, who appear highly successful, struggle deeply when faced with disappointment. Others, with fewer visible achievements, meet the same challenges with calm determination. The difference is rarely intelligence or talent. It is resilience. And resilience grows not in comfort, but through struggle.

Many of us, who grew up in the Generation X or millennial era, remember childhood as a time of trust and autonomy. Walking to a friend’s house, riding bicycles through the neighborhood or spending hours outdoors without close supervision often began at a young age. The world felt big, but children were trusted to navigate it. Of course, not all of that early independence was safe or wise, but those unsupervised moments demanded problem solving, conflict resolution and independent decision making. Confidence developed quietly through lived experience.

Parents today are understandably more cautious. The world feels more complex and more threatening. But in our efforts to protect children, it is easy to overdo it. Many members of GenZ were not granted similar independence until much later. Safety matters, but so does autonomy, because confidence does not come from praise alone. It comes from doing, from failing, and from trying again. It comes from stepping beyond comfort and discovering a steady sense of self that is not defined by others.

When children are constantly monitored and directed, they miss the small, everyday risks that teach judgment, decision-making and confidence in their ability to recover from failure. Instead of growing more capable, they may grow more dependent. In shielding them from discomfort, we can unintentionally leave them anxious, unsure and constantly seeking reassurance.

This reflection is not only about physical independence. It is also about emotional freedom. Children need space to feel joy, sadness, anger, frustration and disappointment without fear or shame. Emotional maturity is not a personality trait. It is a skill. And like any skill, it develops through practice.

When adults rush to fix every problem or respond with strong emotions of their own such as anger, fear or sadness, children learn that emotions are something to avoid. The intention may be care, but the message received is often one of doubt. You cannot handle this. Over time, this message becomes internalized and forms the child’s inner voice.

One of the hardest tasks of parenting is sitting with a child’s pain without trying to fix the problem. Yet this is often where growth begins. Children learn to regulate their emotions not by avoiding difficult feelings, but by experiencing them in an environment of love, trust and calm. When parents acknowledge emotions with simple acceptance, children learn that discomfort is part of being human. They also learn that they are strong enough to face difficult feelings and that they are not alone while doing so.

This becomes especially important during adolescence. Teenagers are naturally present-focused. Developmentally, they struggle to understand that emotional pain is temporary. This is one reason adolescence is such a vulnerable period. When adults attempt to remove every discomfort, or react with overwhelming emotion themselves, young people may come to believe that negative feelings are dangerous and must be solved by someone else. Without intending to, we risk raising children, who feel emotionally unprepared for life’s realities. If the goal is protection, the answer is not to eliminate pain, but to equip young people to face it with empathy, support, and trust in themselves.

One of the simplest and most overlooked ways to build self worth is through taking responsibility at home. When children contribute by setting the table, folding laundry or helping in the kitchen, they learn that they are useful and capable. These are not small acts. They quietly reinforce a sense of purpose and belonging, reminding children that they matter, that they are needed, and that they can make a meaningful contribution.

Above all, children need to feel loved unconditionally. They need to know their worth is not tied to grades, trophies or praise. Even when parents believe this wholeheartedly, subtle messages can suggest otherwise. Extra excitement when a child receives an A on a report card or heightened warmth upon winning a trophy, can quietly teach that approval is linked to perfection. Over time, this belief shapes how children see themselves and what they believe they must do to be valued.

Every experience a child has is a means to an end, not an end in itself. Adults may focus on the incident, the poor grade, the missed goal or the emotional outburst. What matters more is what the child learns from the experience and how they remember being treated in that moment. The adult’s voice, tone and presence become the child’s inner voice. This inner voice forms the foundation of self-image, values and emotional strength long after childhood ends.

So what will that voice sound like for your child? Will it reassure them that they can face difficulty and remain whole? Or will it echo doubt, shaped by moments when understanding was needed but judgment arrived instead?

As we search for ways to support children, perhaps we can look inward to our own roots. In Nepal, the birthplace of the Buddha, emotional balance and inner awareness have been valued for centuries. Practices such as reflection and mindfulness are not trends. They are timeless tools. Teaching children to pause, breathe and observe their emotions gives them an internal compass, one that guides them through uncertainty with calm.

Raising happy children does not mean removing struggle from their lives. It means walking beside them as they face challenges, stepping back when needed while remaining emotionally present, and trusting them to navigate discomfort, frustration, and pain, knowing they always have a secure base to return to. Real happiness is not about avoiding difficulty, but learning to move through it with courage and self-trust.

Because one day, we will not be there to catch them. If they are truly prepared, they will not need us to.

The Nepali Congress (NC) occupies a singular and enduring position in Nepal’s political history. It is not merely one political party among others but the principal institutional carrier of Nepal’s democratic imagination. From its origins in anti-Rana resistance and exile politics, through the short-lived democratic experiment of the 1950s, the democratic restoration of 1990 and the post-conflict reconstruction after 2006, the NC has repeatedly stood at the center of regime change, constitutionalism and state-building. 

Unlike revolutionary or purely oppositional parties, the NC has combined resistance with responsibility, protest with governance, and idealism with compromise.

Yet historical centrality does not automatically translate into contemporary relevance or organizational vitality. Like many legacy democratic parties worldwide, the NC now confronts a complex crisis marked by ideological ambiguity, leadership inertia, organizational strain and growing distance from a rapidly changing society. This article offers a brief but integrated institutional analysis of the NC, examining its organizational evolution, internal democracy, leadership culture, governance record and reform dilemmas. It argues that the NC’s greatest strengths—moral legitimacy, adaptability and democratic restraint—have also produced structural fragilities that continue to undermine institutional consolidation. Understanding this paradox is essential not only for evaluating the party’s future but also for assessing the prospects of Nepal’s democratic project itself.

Conceptual framework: Parties, institutions and democratic mediation

In democratic theory, political parties are understood as mediating institutions between society and the state. They aggregate interests, articulate political alternatives, recruit leadership and structure political competition. Classical and contemporary scholarship emphasizes three interrelated dimensions of effective party institutionalization: organizational routinization, leadership legitimacy and internal democracy. Parties that fail to balance these dimensions risk either authoritarian capture, organizational decay or social irrelevance.

In post-authoritarian and resource-constrained societies, these tensions are magnified. Parties often emerge from resistance movements, privileging moral authority and personal loyalty over bureaucratic rules. While such traits enhance mobilization during struggle, they complicate later transitions to programmatic, rule-bound party organization. The NC exemplifies this dilemma. Born as a movement rather than a conventional electoral party, it carried movement logics—charisma, sacrifice, flexibility and informality—into periods that increasingly demanded institutional discipline, policy expertise and routinized leadership succession.

Origins and organizational culture: From resistance to electoral politics

The NC emerged through exile politics, underground networks, diaspora activism and cross-border coordination in India. Its early organizational life was shaped by repression and uncertainty. Survival depended on secrecy, trust and personal commitment rather than formal procedures. Leadership authority was earned through sacrifice and credibility, not electoral mandate. These formative experiences created a political culture in which loyalty and moral standing were valued above codified rules.

When democratic openings emerged—particularly after 1951 and later after 1990—the NC faced the challenge of transforming a resistance movement into a competitive electoral party. Formal organizational structures were gradually introduced, but movement culture persisted. Informal decision-making, personalized leadership and flexible norms remained dominant. This hybrid organizational form proved both resilient and unstable—capable of adaptation across regimes, yet resistant to full institutionalization.

Organizational architecture and leadership culture

Over time, the NC constructed a multi-tiered organizational architecture consisting of a central committee, district committees, local and ward units, and a range of sister as well as well-wisher organizations representing students, women, youth, labor, and identity- and profession-based groups. This structure enabled nationwide penetration and electoral reach, distinguishing the NC from regionally confined or ideologically narrow parties. Organizational breadth allowed the party to function as a national integrator in a socially and geographically diverse country.

Despite this formal decentralization, real authority often remained centralized, particularly in leadership selection, coalition bargaining and strategic decision-making. Leadership culture further shaped organizational life.

Foundational leaders commanded authority through moral legitimacy, intellectual stature, and personal sacrifice. Their leadership emphasized ethical restraint and democratic norms over procedural dominance or coercive control. As electoral politics normalized, leadership criteria shifted. Authority increasingly derived from electoral success, factional strength, and control over party machinery. This transition altered internal expectations, intensified competition, and reduced the unifying moral authority that had once moderated conflict. The absence of institutionalized succession mechanisms amplified leadership struggles and factional reproduction.

Factionalism and intra-party democracy

Factionalism has been a persistent and defining feature of the NC. While often portrayed as a pathology, factionalism within democratic parties can perform integrative functions: It can prevent authoritarian consolidation, provide channels for dissent and facilitate elite circulation. In the NC, factions historically emerged around charismatic leaders, generational divides and strategic disagreements rather than deep ideological schisms.

However, the costs of factionalism have been substantial. Persistent internal competition weakened organizational discipline, undermined public credibility and reduced policy coherence. Formal mechanisms of intra-party democracy—general conventions, internal elections and representative committees—coexist uneasily with informal power structures rooted in patronage, negotiation and loyalty networks. The gap between formal rules and actual practice defines the NC’s internal democracy: procedurally pluralistic yet substantively fragile.

Cadre development, resources, organizational capacity

Unlike cadre-based parties with systematic ideological training, the NC has relied largely on informal mentoring, experiential learning and movement socialization. This approach fostered commitment but limited programmatic coherence and policy capacity. Youth and student wings functioned as recruitment pipelines, yet they were frequently politicized and factionalized, reproducing internal divisions rather than cultivating new leadership.

Financial organization has remained a chronic challenge. Limited public funding, reliance on donor networks and opaque financial practices constrained organizational professionalism and accountability. Resource scarcity affected policy research, cadre training and organizational modernization, reinforcing dependence on informal networks and personalized leadership.

Governance record: Democratic stewardship and state-building

The NC is fundamentally a party of governance. Across Nepal’s modern political history, it has repeatedly assumed responsibility during periods of institutional transition, constitutional experimentation and post-conflict reconstruction. Its governing philosophy has emphasized democratic stewardship—procedure, consent and accountability—over coercion or revolutionary rupture.

Congress-led governments played foundational roles in constitutional development, including the 1959 and 1990 constitutions and the post-2006 constitutional process culminating in the promulgation of the new constitution in 2016 with sufficient consensus of a directly-elected constituent assembly. In each instance, the party advocated separation of powers, fundamental rights, judicial independence and parliamentary supremacy. Even when implementation was uneven, these normative commitments shaped the architecture of the Nepali state.

In parliamentary practice, the NC promoted legislative debate, committee systems and opposition rights, reinforcing democratic accountability. In social sectors, Congress governments expanded education, healthcare and early social protection, framing these investments as democratic foundations rather than populist concessions. Infrastructure development, regulatory institutions and fiscal governance advanced incrementally, constrained by limited state capacity and political fragmentation.

Governance limitations and democratic trade-offs

Despite these contributions, the NC’s governance record is marked by significant limitations. Slow policy implementation, uneven administrative capacity, weak monitoring mechanisms and pervasive patronage undermined effectiveness.

Corruption and clientelism eroded public trust, while governance during the Maoist insurgency strained democratic norms. Emergency measures, though often justified as crisis management, left institutional scars. Coalition politics, especially after 2017, diluted accountability, shortened government lifespans and encouraged policy incrementalism rather than structural reform. Federal restructuring after 2015 further complicated governance, overburdening institutions and exposing coordination failures between central, provincial and local governments. These shortcomings reflect not ideological incoherence but the structural difficulties of democratic governance under constraint.

Comparative perspective: Legacy democratic parties in South Asia

Comparatively, the NC occupies a middle ground among South Asian parties. Like several other South Asian parties, it shares a legacy-based leadership culture and factional pluralism. Unlike disciplined left parties, it tolerates internal contestation but struggles with coherence and policy discipline. In contrast to personality-driven regional parties, it retains nationwide presence and constitutional legitimacy.

Internationally, the NC’s trajectory mirrors that of many legacy democratic parties confronting populist challengers, social fragmentation and declining organizational loyalty. Its experience underscores the broader challenge of sustaining democratic parties in an era of electoral volatility and declining ideological attachment.

Recent challenges and the GenZ uprising

Post-2015, the NC navigated a landscape of political fragmentation and external influences. Elections in 2017 and 2022 saw the party alternate in power, often through unstable coalitions. Tenures focused on Covid-19 recovery, infrastructure and foreign relations, but they were marred by allegations of corruption and inefficiency. The 2022 elections positioned the NC as a key player, yet alliances shifted amid geopolitical tensions between India, China and the US.

The year 2025 marked a watershed crisis. In September, youth-led protests erupted across urban centers, demanding anti-corruption measures, accountability for past violence and systemic reforms. These demonstrations—triggered by the government ban on social media and further fueled by disillusionment with entrenched elites, economic woes and unacceptably high youth unemployment—resulted in clashes and casualties, leading to political upheaval, including government resignation, parliamentary dissolution and snap general elections scheduled for March 2026.

Critiques and the challenge of renewal

Contemporary critiques of the NC focus on ideological dilution, leadership inertia, organizational risk aversion and social disconnect. The democratic socialism and humanist ethics that once anchored Congress identity now appear programmatically vague. Leadership succession remains uneven and constrained, and youth engagement limited. Formal inclusion of women and marginalized groups has not consistently translated into substantive empowerment.

Yet decline should not be conflated with irrelevance. The NC retains nationwide organization, constitutional legitimacy and residual moral authority. Its crisis is one of renewal rather than existential collapse. Renewal requires institutionalizing internal democracy, professionalizing organization, strengthening policy capacity and reconnecting with emerging social constituencies.

Conclusion: An incomplete but indispensable democratic institution

The NC represents an incomplete yet indispensable democratic institution. Its historical legitimacy, adaptive capacity and commitment to democratic restraint have sustained Nepal’s democratic state through repeated crises. At the same time, personalized leadership, weak institutionalization and unresolved movement–party tensions continue to undermine organizational coherence and governance performance.

The future of the NC depends on its ability to transform moral authority into institutional strength, reconcile pluralism with discipline and align democratic ideals with governance delivery. Whether it succeeds will shape not only the party’s trajectory but the resilience of Nepal’s democratic project itself.

A young man injured in a road accident in Kathmandu struggles to enter a government office because there’s no ramp. A woman who lost her leg during the 2015 earthquake waits outside a clinic with no accessible toilet. A child with cerebral palsy sits at home because her school lacks a wheelchair-friendly classroom. These are not isolated experiences; they reflect how our infrastructure and social attitudes continue to fail people who live with injuries or disabilities.

In the case of people with disabilities, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights reframed the global understanding of dignity. Article 1 declares that “all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” Article 16 of the Constitution of Nepal (2015) explicitly affirms that “every person shall have the right to live with dignity.” Yet, for many individuals with disabilities, dignity is frequently compromised through discrimination, exclusion and social stigma. Such violations not only undermine fundamental rights but also contribute to poor mental health outcomes, creating a cycle of suffering that affects individuals, families and communities. From a developmental perspective, Amartya Sen’s capabilities approach broadens the notion of dignity by emphasizing substantive freedoms and the real opportunities people have to pursue lives they value. When dignity is eroded through neglect, discrimination or violence, individuals experience profound personal harm, and the consequences extend further: social systems lose cohesion, legitimacy and overall effectiveness. This underscores the necessity of fostering environments where people with disabilities can fully exercise their rights, capabilities and inherent dignity.

Nepal’s position

There are lots of areas that we are behind in addressing the dignity of differently-abled people. The barriers begin with our built environment. Most public buildings in Nepal remain inaccessible to those with physical limitations. Sidewalks are uneven, roads often lack crossings or tactile paving for the visually impaired, and many schools do not have ramps or adapted toilets. Even newly-built structures often lack accessibility standards mandated under the Act Relating to Rights of Persons with Disabilities, 2074  and the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), to which Nepal is a signatory. 

These physical barriers are more than design flaws but they are reflections of our social priorities. Our public spaces silently communicate who belongs and who doesn’t. When a person on crutches cannot cross the road safely or a wheelchair user is carried up stairs because there is no ramp, it reveals a failure of imagination and empathy.

Infrastructure that is excluded is not only unjust but it is also economically inefficient. By neglecting to accommodate all citizens, we restrict participation in education, employment and governance. Accessibility is not a luxury for a few; it is a fundamental right for all and every person has an equal dignity.

The cultural barrier

The deeper challenge, however, lies in our attitudes. In many communities, people with disabilities are still viewed with pity or dependency, rather than as individuals with agency and potential. Sympathy often replaces justice. Charity programs and donation drives dominate our response, while systems for empowerment, accessibility and inclusion remain weak. Too often, we view injury or disability through a lens of tragedy instead of resilience. When the injured or differently-abled are portrayed as objects of sympathy rather than participants in society, their voices are sidelined from policy debates and community life.

Nepal’s culture of community and compassion can, paradoxically, both comfort and confine. Compassion must evolve into inclusion. Our values from Buddhist teachings on interconnectedness to Hindu values of sewa (service) already hold the moral grounding for inclusion. But it is time we translated those values into systemic change. True dignity is not about receiving kindness; it is about being treated as an equal.

From the lens of IHD

As Nepal builds roads, hospitals and digital systems, it must remember that true development is not just about what we build, but for whom we build. Integral Human Development (IHD), a dignity-centered framework that aims for human flourishing, and sees every person as a whole reminds us that a just and prosperous society must recognize every individual as capable of contribution and worthy of care. It offers a transformative way to rethink how we design societies. It begins from a simple truth: a person is not merely an economic actor or a recipient of aid, but a whole human being physical, emotional, social, and spiritual. Dignity is its core foundation. Dignity is also the key pillar of development, and every person, regardless of special needs, deserves to flourish.

IHD invites policymakers to pause and reflect before drafting any plan or project. If we are building a school, would we feel confident sending a child with special needs from our own family there? If not, then the project is not good enough. This is what IHD demands, merely not perfection, but empathy and coherence between intention and impact. It helps us to transform policies from technical checklists into moral commitments. It challenges us to see the person before the impairment, the capability before the constraint.

From policy to practice

Nepal needs more than laws to advance inclusion, it needs implementation grounded in dignity. First, enforce accessibility standards across all levels of government. Every new school, hospital and municipal building must meet basic mobility, visual and hearing-friendly design requirements, with accessibility audits built into approval processes. Second, invest consistently in rehabilitation and reintegration. Road-accident survivors, earthquake victims and others with long-term injuries need sustained physiotherapy, counseling and employment support. Third, ensure that people with disabilities and injuries are part of decision-making; their lived experience is essential for designing inclusive systems. Fourth, shift cultural practice. How we speak to, treat and create space for differently-abled people determines whether inclusion is real or symbolic. Finally, mainstream inclusion in education and employment through teacher training, workplace adaptations and public awareness. Economic participation allows people not just to survive but to thrive.

Nepal stands at a crossroads. Progress is visible in infrastructure and connectivity, but true development is measured by who can access those advancements. A ramp at a school or tactile paving at a bus stop may seem small, yet they embody respect and equal opportunity. Designing for the most vulnerable ultimately benefits everyone: the elderly, the sick, children and temporary accident survivors, strengthening trust and resilience.

As Nepal reimagines its development path, IHD offers a guiding compass. It urges policymakers to move beyond economic expansion and ask how policies nurture the whole person. Through this lens, these reforms are not technical fixes but parts of a holistic vision that balances efficiency with empathy, participation with policy and growth with justice.

The author is a graduate student of Global Affairs at the University of Notre Dame, USA

Can we imagine, before 2030, Nepal attending a G20 Summit as an invited participant? At present, this proposition may sound preposterous, impractical, even impossible. But allow me some space to explain why it may not be entirely out of reach.

First of all, this question concerns Nepal being invited only as a guest to the G20, a symbolically important platform with considerable convening power. It is a space where leaders from the most influential nations of both the Global South and the Global North converge to discuss some of the most pressing contemporary issues.

It is also a forum where other countries that matter are invited. For instance, leaders from middle powers and still-influential nations such as Spain, the Netherlands, and Singapore regularly attend as guests. At this moment, Nepal does not count for much in the international arena. But if upcoming elections were to herald a new era of genuine good governance anchored in political stability, the story could be very different.

No one can predict Nepal’s post-election political scenario. Yet, with a degree of optimism, we could assume that if national politics were cleaned up and properly fixed under a serious prime minister and a stable governing coalition, the country could acquire the conditions necessary to be taken more seriously.

It is hardly conceivable that even five years of complete political stability would allow Nepal to become a lower-middle-income economy. But if politics deliver at the local, provincial, and federal levels, and if a capable federal government is in place, then a credible trajectory can at least be set.

In the international arena, Nepal could begin to be noticed by punching above its weight with an unassuming confidence rooted in inner strength. If such a scenario were to materialize, the country could gain prominence not only regionally but also globally.

There are several areas where Nepal could showcase expertise and help elevate global conversations starting with the obvious one: climate justice.

Nepal must significantly deepen its engagement with the UNFCCC Secretariat, the guardian of the Paris Agreement. At COP30, the so-called “Mountain Agenda” was formally acknowledged, but a long journey remains before it evolves into a concrete action plan. One of the central goals of national diplomacy should be to pursue this agenda effectively, even with shoestring budgets.

In this context, the Sagarmatha Sambaad should become an annual event, possibly focused primarily on climate change but designed in a way that connects meaningfully with other critical issues such as artificial intelligence, inequality, and business and human rights. These themes are intrinsically linked to climate justice. AI-driven data centers, for instance, are already showing major impacts on local ecosystems and carbon emissions. Climate warming disproportionately affects vulnerable populations, widening existing inequalities. Meanwhile, the business and human rights agenda becomes essential when countries seek to build climate-resilient infrastructure.

This web of interconnected issues could turn the Sagarmatha Sambaad into a recognized regional and international platform for serious debate. The goal should be to reach a point where the government’s efforts to invite respected speakers gradually fade, because diplomats, scientists, and political leaders actively want to come to Nepal, unwilling to miss the opportunity the Sambaad offers.

Kathmandu or Pokhara should also bid to host major dialogues within the UNFCCC framework. As I have written before, this is not organizationally impossible.

Beyond climate, democracy-building remains one of Nepal’s genuine success stories, despite the messiness and corruption of national politics. There is no perfect democracy anywhere, and no democratic society without corruption scandals. Even Nordic countries—often considered ideal—face their own challenges, albeit better managed.

This is precisely why a future federal government should take a bolder stance in promoting democracy and human rights internationally. Nepal could partner with the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights and other UN agencies to host major events in Kathmandu through a sustained series of initiatives.

Another opportunity lies ahead as the UN and the international community prepare to discuss a post-2030 development agenda, once the current Sustainable Development Goals expire. Nepal could host early convenings and, more importantly, lead intellectually, especially on the localization of the SDGs, an area long neglected despite its potential to place people at the center of development and governance.

In doing so, Nepal could champion democracy, human rights, and localized development in any future global framework.

Such engagement, which embraces global issues from the perspective of a developing nation seeking sustainable prosperity, could significantly alter how global leaders perceive Nepal. Bold ideas matter. Barbados, for instance, reshaped debates on debt sustainability through innovative proposals. Nepal, too, could initiate internal reforms that allow intellectuals, scientists, business leaders, and young people to propose and share ideas more easily.

In essence, the state must find ways to open itself to its own citizens. This would allow Nepal to attend global summits with meaningful propositions, rather than delivering scripted speeches shaped by international agencies.

Consider artificial intelligence. Nepal has never meaningfully participated in global AI summits, likely due to ignorance, lack of foresight, and chronic political instability. Yet an opportunity may soon arise, as India is set to host a major AI Impact Summit in February, which could offer Nepal a chance to engage and network.

Finally, if Nepal aspires to global recognition, it must not neglect the regional arena. Just days ago, SAARC marked its 40th anniversary. The regional organization is in disarray. Yet Nepal should not abandon the pursuit of regional cooperation.

Even if India and Pakistan continue to block progress at the leadership level, Nepal should seek to invent new ways of fostering South Asian collaboration. SAARC is more than just leaders’ summits; it includes technical mechanisms that, if supported—even symbolically—can still make a difference.

Nepal should adopt a pragmatic approach: advance whatever cooperation is possible without requiring top-level political consensus. Simultaneously, it could invest in the creativity of South Asian civil society by convening regional gatherings aimed at reimagining cooperation beyond current geopolitical constraints.

One immediate, symbolic step could be for Prime Minister Sushila Karki to formally visit the SAARC Secretariat, an easy logistical task, yet rich in meaning. As for BIMSTEC, Nepal should continue its engagement, hoping gradual progress will follow.

All these steps point toward one objective: raising Nepal’s international profile through a deliberate, tailored strategy. Such a strategy would move incrementally, setting higher horizons step by step.

Nepal can be ambitious internationally while remaining grounded and humble, demonstrating a new way of conducting diplomacy—quietly, but with determination. If these elements converge into a coherent policy agenda, then it may not be so unimaginable for Nepal to one day receive an invitation, as a guest, to a G20 Summit.