The story behind Namo Buddha

Following a tour of the Thrangu Yangtse Monastery in Namo Buddha, Raju, my cycling companion, and I checked into a guesthouse. Our late August cycling escapade included a stretch from Kathmandu to Dhulikhel and the final leg, an uphill ride southwest, to Namo Buddha (totaling 45km) from an intersection called Kabhre Bhanjyang on the Banepa-Bardibas highway. During our evening meal, Palden Tamang, the lodge owner, asked us if we dropped by the Namo Buddha stupa, erected by a king in memory of his youngest son in 4,000 BC. We hadn’t but hearing him made our jaws drop. We had only toured the grand Yangtse Monastery, built in 1979 with pagoda-style gilded roofs, chaityas, and vihars (chambers) sitting on a hilltop overlooking a stunning landscape. Although I had been to Namo Buddha before, I took the Yangtse Monastery to be Namo Buddha. Most visitors make the same mistake. The next day, after quickly dusting off our mountain bikes, we rode to the stupa. We imagined the shrine would occupy a quiet site, but tea shops and shops, selling everything from incense sticks and ghee lamps to souvenirs and bottled dalle khursani (red cherry pepper chili) among other miscellaneous items flanked the stone-paved path. As we entered the premises, the white-painted structure on an elevated platform looked like the Swayambhunath stupa’s replica. Closer, it appeared more of a chorten with a miniature dome. With a gilded tiered lotus and a gajur (pinnacle), and below it the harmica or four-sided block, painted with half-closed eyes of Buddha, the vajradrishti (wisdom eyes), it was reminiscent of Swayambhunath and Boudhanath. While mini chortens with the crest painted gold dotted the main stupa, manis (prayer wheels) skirted the platform. Prayer flags made the surrounding explode in a riot of colors, lending the area a tranquil and hallowed ambiance. The shrine looked deserted but for a handful of devotees. The shrine, clinging to the brow of a forested hill, dropped abruptly to a lush valley with rice fields and clusters of villages to the west. At the furthest end, we could see the town of Panauti. Curious to gather some info, we dropped by a tea shop. By a stroke of luck, we met the shrine’s chief priest, Kanchha Lama. He was seated in a corner sipping tea. Dressed in a maroon monk’s robe, what struck us most was his black bowler hat. We were in for a big surprise when the priest told us he was 87. He looked hale and hearty for his age. Pleasantries over, the priest shed light on the ancient history of Namo Buddha, the site previously called Hiran Giri, a forested hill for ascetics and hermits to practice meditation and seek wisdom. “According to ancient lore, the story goes back 6,000 years, during the reign of King Shingta Chenpo over Panchali Desh (the present-day Panauti),” the priest began while recounting how Namo Buddha came into existence. Legend has it that the Panchali King had three sons. Among them, the youngest, Semchen Chenpo (the Great Being, also Mahakaruna), humble and endowed with high intellect and divine wisdom, had committed himself to serving all sentient lifeforms with infinite compassion and empathy. During a tour of the hills, the three brothers stumbled upon a tigress in a cave, prone on the floor, motionless. Five of her cubs appeared, sleeping beside her. Alarmed, Semchen’s two brothers nocked their bows with arrows, ready to shoot, but the youngest prince restrained them, and without disturbing the tigress and the cubs, they left for their camp. Prince Semchen, believing something was amiss, revisited the cave, and his hunch proved to be correct. The tigress still lay inert, the cubs trying to suckle their mother’s nipples. The prince realized the tigress was dying of starvation, and that he must save her and the cubs. Without a second thought, he slashed one of his arms and fed the tigress some warm blood. Upon being revived, the tigress pounced upon the prince and devoured him, leaving only the bones. Following great mourning and funeral rites, the royal family collected the prince’s remains in a sandalwood casket, buried it at Hirangiri forested hill, and built a stupa over the grave. Little did anyone know that Prince Semchen would be reborn not once but take several life forms to serve humanity. His ultimate resurrection occurred in Lumbini as Prince Siddhartha Gautam, who renounced worldly pleasures, regality, and wealth, attained moksha and nirvana, and became Gautam Buddha (the ‘awakened’ or ‘enlightened one’). When Buddha (also Shakyamuni) traveled to Nepal to spread his teachings, he visited the stupa, the burial ground of Prince Semchen. He folded his hands in reverence to the shrine because Buddha knew the prince was none other than himself in his earlier life. “Since Buddha bowed down in salutation to the shrine, this place got the name Namo (homage) Buddha,” said Kanchha Lama, the chief priest as he wrapped up the soul-stirring tale about sacrifice, spirituality, and reincarnation. [email protected]

Time for climate action has come

The SDG-13 is climate action. Our activities beget the climate crisis and our actions will overcome this global crisis. It is a man-made catastrophe.  It seemingly looks like a natural calamity onstage but offstage it is human behavior at play—how we use up the resources, how we live, how we respond to and how we connect with the earth through our lifestyles. The crisis is complex in nature, interdisciplinary in areas, wide in spatio-temporal spectrum and grave in magnitude.  No choice nor excuses, it just calls for action. The action is for climate empowerment. Yes, education has a key role to play in mitigation and adaptation efforts of the most urgent global issue of our times. Act now or never. Climate change, with its rising temperatures and changing weather patterns, is a major contributor to the increasing frequency and severity of natural disasters, such as heatwaves, droughts, and heavy rainfall, which threaten communities and the environment. Furthermore, the destruction of natural habitats and ecosystems due to human activities such as deforestation, overdevelopment, and poor land-use practices has also played a significant role in exacerbating the impacts of climate change. Nepal is a stunning and spectacular natural sanctuary full of biodiversity. Home to natural wonders like Mt Everest, the world’s highest peak, Nepal has 118 ecosystems, 75 categories of vegetation, and 35 types of forests. The resources are diverse. The climatic variations occur primarily in three geographical regions: the mountains, hills and the plains landscapes. The flora and fauna species and a diverse array of cultural heritage and communities add one more diversity to Nepal’s unique climate and cultural diversity. These diverse resources and communities are at stake. The stake is huge, enlisting Nepal as one of the most disaster-prone countries in the world. In such a context, how do we cope with climate change? Nepal has envisioned building a climate-resilient society. The goal is to contribute to building a sustainable society by augmenting the capacity to adapt to climate change and minimizing its adverse effects. For this, there are three important objectives. One is to increase the adaptive capacity by minimizing the adverse effects of climate change in accordance with the Paris Agreement. Another is to implement the concept of environment-friendly and clean energy-driven development (green development) for climate change mitigation. The third one is to access international finance and technologies available for climate change mitigation and adaptation within the framework of the Paris Agreement and distribute the benefits equitably. Nepal confronts a number of problems and challenges visa-a-vis climate change. Reducing climate vulnerability through risk management at various levels,  building climate adaptive capacity; building climate-resilient communities,  increasing access to climate finance, conducting result-oriented programs, ensuring inter-agency coordination, enhancing institutional capacity, and addressing Nepal’s specific issues related to climate change in international fora are the major challenges as outlined in the 15th five-year plan of Nepal. Recent reports and studies suggest that climate change is causing the glaciers in Nepal’s Himalayan region to melt at an alarming rate, threatening fragile ecosystems, vulnerable communities, and billions of people downstream, who rely on snow-fed rivers. The ramifications of these natural disasters are far-reaching and devastating, particularly for vulnerable communities, perpetuating the cycle of poverty and inequality. They also have a detrimental effect on the economy and the environment, further exacerbating the effects and impacts on communities and species. Potential for bilateral and multilateral cooperation and collaboration in mitigating the effects of climate change, availability of regional and international methods and institutions for participation in carbon trading to reduce carbon emissions, possibility for the establishment of an environment-friendly payment system for development and carbon footprint reduction, access to international payments for carbon sequestration, mobilization of foreign aid in the field of climate change in line with Nepal’s priorities, and its inclusion in the country’s climate-friendly development programs to support the nation’s prosperity are the key opportunities. One important initiative is climate empowerment. It is possible through education awareness, training and knowledge and information sharing in a digital platform. The nexus of education and climate change is critically important for three main reasons. First, education develops the ability to understand, adapt to, and mitigate the effects of climate change. Education also empowers individuals to take control of their own lives and to make informed decisions, particularly with regard to the environment. The well-aware and well-educated populace can make decisions about their lifestyles. Here comes the role of education providers, both formal and informal. Sad to say,  our education system is missing the mark to cater to this need in order to address this pressing issue. Nevertheless, the 15th plan has emphasized a strategic initiative. This is to conduct research and capacity-building activities in the field of climate change. Studies and research, technology development, and capacity building activities are being carried out in the field of climate change in collaboration with universities and other institutions at federal, provincial, and local levels. Secondly, technical education transfers skills, knowledge, and know-how. This creates an opportunity for better-paying jobs in a competitive job market and therefore contributes to the economic development of their communities. A well-educated population is essential for the development of a healthy and stable democracy, and for achieving gender equality and empowering women and girls. However, our education system is philosophical. In this regard, the Government of Nepal needs to focus on imparting technical and vocational education to the citizens. The plan has stressed the need for investment in climate change management through mobilization of all three levels of government by clarifying the responsibilities of each level. Thirdly, it is obvious that climate change education must be part of school and university curricula. In the absence of this, students will have a hard time in the world of environmental complexities and ecological hazards. Therefore, an urgent call for action is to incorporate climate change education in formal education systems. This initiative will equip students with the knowledge, skills, and mindset necessary to mitigate and adapt to the effects of climate change. This requires a collaborative effort from government, educators, and civil society, to develop and implement curriculum and teacher training programs that address climate change. Furthermore, Nepal is marred by corruption in all its state machineries and functionaries. Corruption further aggravates the climate crisis by sucking the public funds dry and by reducing the efficacy and effectiveness of programs of climate action. Here, education plays a vital role to hold public office bearers accountable for their actions and decisions. According to Transparency International, climate change and corruption share many symptoms. They hit the poorest first and the worst. They are caused by powerful individuals or entities seeking short-term gains. In the long term, they put livelihoods at risk and threaten the entire economy. They thrive on the flaws of national governments: The countries need strong global cooperation to stop them. Education thus makes the vigilant civil society raise questions on transparency and accountability. In the final analysis, climate empowerment is one of the most implementable solutions. It is high time we got empowered for the future. It is time to act on education for climate action. DJ Shah is a graduate from Kyung Hee University, South Korea and is currently working for the Ministry of Labour, Employment and Social Security. Bibek Shah is an independent researcher on climate change

The time to act is now

Shaming of students by teachers in Nepal is prevalent from kindergarten to higher education. The oldest memories of school shaming that I have is of our English teacher in kindergarten making us cover our faces with our palms while our female classmates lifted their skirts for not putting on underwear! I remember my English teacher in grade five pasting ‘donkey’ on my friend’s back and making him walk around the school for not memorizing tense structures correctly; I was trembling with the fear of shaming in case I could not regurgitate it accurately. Twenty-eight years later, my friend—bedridden due to some sickness—contemplates dropping an MPhil course instead of submitting an assignment dreading that his course teacher might shame him among his colleagues for work not done well, like in an earlier instance. The forms and intensity of shaming might have changed, but shaming within classrooms has been ongoing in educational institutions in our country. In this brief piece, I look at this practice of shaming within academic institutions and its ill impacts. Shaming within academic institutions comes in different forms; examples include keeping the students outside of the class; scolding a student in front of the class; announcing students’ grades publicly and congratulating the higher scorers while denouncing the ‘low achievers’; scapegoating; rusticating; suspending; mocking and ridiculing. Teasing students because they cannot speak fluent or ‘correct’ Nepali is widespread in Nepali academic institutions; most students with a first language other than Nepali are victims of such shaming. Ranking students’ academic performance and public announcement of ranks and grades are such normalized practices in Nepal’s educational institutions that we seldom reflect on their negative psychological impacts. We should consider that rewarding a few students for their academic performance could disempower many students. Another common but overlooked shaming practice within academic institutions in Nepal is categorizing students based on their grades; this is particularly prevalent in schools with multiple sections at the same grade level. Students are assigned to a particular section depending on their grades. Furthermore, students are moved from one section to another, depending on their academic performance. This ‘upgrading’ or ‘downgrading’ profoundly impacts student performance; a notable phenomenon might be the bullying of a downgraded student by their classmates. This ‘downgrading’ might instigate a negative downward spiral in the student involving absenteeism from school, withdrawal from classroom engagement, self-isolation and detachment from peers, and loss of self-confidence, among others. Furthermore, shaming could cultivate pessimistic mindsets in students regarding the possibility of their success and the belief that failure is inevitable, causing them to give up before they begin (Bayers and Camfield, 2018). Shaming and corporal punishment were normalized everyday experiences of students, who went to school two decades ago. Whereas corporal punishment is shunned in schools today, shaming is persistent. Both shaming and punishing are based on the idea that they can effectively change students for the better. A colleague recently shared with me that his four-year-old repeatedly said she would keep her parents in the ‘naughty chair’ for not paying attention to her or not attending to her demands. Intrigued, he went to her daughter’s Montessori school to find out that students, who ‘misbehaved’ in the classroom were temporarily put in the naughty chair. Kindergartens, where a few facilitators deal with many students, generally come up with some form of ‘othering’ a ‘difficult child’ to ‘manage’ the classroom. Since this was a treatment that he was unfamiliar with and worked well  (according to the school administrators), he was unsure how to respond. The ‘naughty chair’ used in this instance represents negative reinforcement by labeling, marking, or branding. The student in the naughty chair was used as an example or symbol of who not to be and therefore separated from the others in the classroom. Shaming is the worst method of teaching because it manipulates kids’ fear of alienation and stigma; it involves giving up on teaching students and leaves them with only those lessons that can be learned from adult-sanctioned ridicule and mockery (Perry, 2019). Schools are sensitive spaces since children spend the formative years of their lives there; instances of shaming, particularly during the formative years, can have long-lasting negative impacts. Hence, schools must be careful of their methods to encourage or discourage student behavior, including shaming. Brene Brown, a shame and vulnerability researcher, contends that shame is an intensely painful feeling or experience of believing one is flawed and therefore unworthy of love. This feeling of unworthiness can be detrimental for children and adults alike. Furthermore, Brown flags that shame does not have prosocial effects, and researchers do not show shame to have any positive outcomes. Brown’s findings indicate that shaming does not work the way schools think it does. Concluding this piece, I contend that shaming within academic institutions must stop. The author is a faculty of social work at Thames International College, Kathmandu. [email protected]

An appeal to the Indian conscience

Along a path strewn with rocks, let's take a walk, dear readers. Let’s begin with two huge pieces of Himalayan rocks that once adorned Thulo Pahiro, Kaligandaki rural municipality-6 in Myagdi district. For local people, the two rocks lodged on a ravine above a stretch of the sacred Kaligandaki river were a familiar sight. But the eyes searching for the two giants will no longer be able to find them in their birthplace. (Why on Earth would anyone worry over two giant rocks? You see, the Nepalis are a peculiar being, actually. These ‘savages’ worship trees, mountains, rivers, boulders and what not!) As per government orders, the two quartzite and calcite rocks have marched on, initially for Janakpur, the birthplace of Sita Maiya (Goddess Sita) and the capital of King Janak, from where they will be transferred to Ayodhya with Nepal also footing the shipping cost of the precious gift, most probably. Per a report in the state-owned The Rising Nepal daily, the Gandaki Province and the federal government had decided to send this gift in response to a correspondence  from India. The initial plan was to carve the rocks into larger-than-life-size statues of Ram Lalla (lovely, cuddly Lord Ram in his childhood avatar) and Sita Maiya, and install them at a Ram Temple whose construction is going on in full swing. The plan is to complete the works and inaugurate the temple well before the 2024 elections that may not exactly be a cakewalk for the ruling Bharatiya Janta Party. With the economy not in the pink of health, the Indian National Congress resurging along with a formidable Aam Aadmi Party and a ghost from the past haunting it somewhat, Hindu votes will be crucial than ever before for the ruling party. Much to the inconvenience of the rocks bound for Ayodhya (now, who cares about the inconvenience of rocks?), there seems to be a little change of plan (Plan B if you will), though. Contrary to earlier reports, The Hindu reports (‘Nepal temple prepares to gift 350-tonne stones to build Ram statue in Ayodhya’, 17 Jan) that it’s unclear if the rocks will be used to carve out the statues. Also, there’s incongruity about the weight of the rocks. While earlier reports in the Nepali and Indian media outlets suggested that the rocks weighed around 18 and 16 tonnes, the daily states that the rocks have a combined weight of 350 tonnes! Is this because of confusion about metric tonne and tonne? Or have these humble Himalayan rocks suddenly started possessing the divine power to change their shape and form, like Lord Hanuman, who could transform into an insect at Ashok Batika, a giant at the court of Ravan and anything in between, as his role demanded? Interestingly, the government decision to give away the rocks comes amid its increased restrictions on the mining and extraction industry thriving on rampant exploitation of natural resources. The decision coincides with the anniversary of Dilip Mahato (24), who was killed deliberately three years ago for protesting against rampant extraction of riverine materials in Dhanusha. Images of a group of apologists from Nepal—government officials, priests, experts and politicians—performing kshmapuja on the banks of the Kaligandanki on the very day of a huge national tragedy (the Yeti Airlines plane crash that ended up killing all 72 on board) are now frozen in time. A mute spectator to the daylight robbery and rampant cross-border smuggling of the Shaligrams, which bear the imprints of some of the most ancient sea creatures, a woebetide Kaligandaki keeps flowing. What else can she do if our all-powerful federal, provincial and local governments keep mum? She cannot shout out loud and declare that the Shaligrams and all other treasures on the riverbed belong to the very cradle of the earliest forms of life, or can she? Under the human scheme of things, all that the mighty river can do is tremble at the possibility of further exploitation of riverine resources in the context of great geopolitical games for regional and global supremacy. The images featuring a crop of apologists on the banks of the Kaligandaki hark back to the times when Nepal’s rulers chose to sell the country down the river for their petty gains, despite protests from the people, only to repent later. In modern times, acts of high treason have been continuing unabated since the Treaty of Sugauli (1816) with Nepal forced to part with pounds of flesh after each wave of political change through unjust and unequal legal instruments like the Nepal-India Peace and Friendship Treaty (1950), the Gandak Agreement (1959), the Koshi Agreement (1966) and the much-controversial Mahakali Treaty (1996) with the successor of the British empire emerging as Nepal’s neo-colonial master. Recent days have seen a federal secular democratic republic of Nepal lose more of her lifelines. Without control over these resources, how will the center, the provinces, the towns and the villages survive, let alone prosper? Thanks to these instruments that are also the result of great geostrategic and geopolitical games for global and regional supremacy, Nepal, a non-aligned country used to minding her own business and charting her destiny on her own, has been living a neocolonial nightmare. As India celebrates her 74th Republic Day marking her transition to a republic after the end of the British rule brought about by an untiring and inspiring struggle against colonialism and imperialism , her rulers would do well to opt for some serious soul-searching vis-a-vis her relations with Nepal. This is because very often after their fights against oppression and injustice, the champions of higher ideals like human rights and democracy end up becoming the forces that they detested so much. While describing our bilateral ties, there’s a tendency to invoke the past, which is a contested territory anyway, and forget the present. While invoking divinities in the relations, there’s a tendency to forget humanity. There’s a tendency to forget that we are two fully sovereign countries, regardless of our respective size and importance in the comity of nations. While stressing the need to take them to new heights, there’s a tendency, deliberate or otherwise, to forget ground realities and Nepal’s sensibilities. Very often in bilateral fora, ordinary Nepalis feel that on both sides of the negotiating table are people representing the powerful neighbor’s interest at the expense of Nepal. At every such forum, fears of another sellout grip Nepal. As India takes immense pride in calling herself the world’s largest democracy, the onus is on her to do some soul-searching and create an environment of trust and add more elements of democracy in our bilateral relations. Let great celebrations of independence also offer us an opportunity to make way for more equal, just and humane ties.