Orange, yellow and brown. Sama Bajracharya fills the canvas with colours, her forehead creased in concentration and a smile playing at her lips. Sama is 47 and has <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/A-for-autism,270">autism</a>, a neurological and developmental disorder that affects how people interact with others, communicate, learn, and behave. It took years for Sama’s parents to come in terms with and understand her challenges.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110452_d76000000456e391ebecd6304ca0352da0df367a097a24fba40845620bd0167e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20240416110452_d76000000456e391ebecd6304ca0352da0df367a097a24fba40845620bd0167e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>A colourful painting by Sama Bajracharya.</figcaption> </figure>  It was not until a teacher identified her difficulties – an inability to follow lessons, recognise letters and play with other students. She often withdrew and remained isolated. Her parents took her to a doctor who diagnosed her with autism. Because not much was known about the condition at the time, her parents held onto the hope that she would be cured. For 18 years, her mother Ratna Shova Bajracharya took her to traditional healers, dya majus and ayurvedic hospitals. “I did everything that I could, I just wanted to see her live like everyone else happy,” says Ratna Shova.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110456_3783e96dfaeb643383995c2bb37ef189a55c704889ea55ef769842526f132a3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240416110456_3783e96dfaeb643383995c2bb37ef189a55c704889ea55ef769842526f132a3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>Sama with her mother Ratna Shova.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110456_a9006224a4e882de540cfc8ad3f9bb298c2b4fb66eaa8f2b48e4b83f68630126.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240416110456_a9006224a4e882de540cfc8ad3f9bb298c2b4fb66eaa8f2b48e4b83f68630126" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>Sama with her sister Nima walking towards a bus station.</figcaption> </figure>  Upon learning there was no cure from a specialist, Ratna had to adjust their lives to accommodate Sama’s needs. This was not easy as sometimes Sama would exhibit aggressive behaviour including self-harm, throwing objects, breaking mirrors and threatening to jump off the window. A turning point came in 2005 when Sama met Sarita Dangol during an art event for people with autism. A senior artist, Sarita started mentoring Sama in arts and crafts. Art became a form of therapy for Sama, promoting mental and physical stability. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-art-of-healing">The art of healing</a>, Sewa Bhattarai Seeing the impact arts had on her, Sarita along with Sunila Bajracharya co-founded Mikha - The Creative Begins in 2022 to help empower other individuals like Sama by providing them a platform to explore and grow through art.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110456_da249677323f0b78b936809ea68be00dd17f6530c1f8028723d318c71faafb8e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240416110456_da249677323f0b78b936809ea68be00dd17f6530c1f8028723d318c71faafb8e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1015" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>Sama likes knitting.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110456_1dc69dfe3b36b094726ca5ee1fd63f5754a623d4ab8efc8d52e6b5b86a1945f9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240416110456_1dc69dfe3b36b094726ca5ee1fd63f5754a623d4ab8efc8d52e6b5b86a1945f9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>Sama hugs her knitting mentor after her art classes.</figcaption> </figure>  Mikha has become a source of joy for Sama, she excitedly attends classes with her classmates Sabha and Ritu both of whom have been diagnosed with down syndrome. In 2023, Sama participated in the International Disability Dance and Art Festival in Delhi and showcased her artistic and dancing talents, instilling a sense of confidence in her.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240416110456_8c1556b05170bbe7cbb2f2a1959e26fe3ccfb294c3a86f4fc9b84ba225ccbffb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240416110456_8c1556b05170bbe7cbb2f2a1959e26fe3ccfb294c3a86f4fc9b84ba225ccbffb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Autism awarness with art"> <figcaption>Sama with her friends Sabha and Ritu during their art class.</figcaption> </figure>  Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-mental-scars-of-violence">The mental scars of violence</a>, Sewa Bhattarai According to the 2021 Census, there are 4,886 individuals with autism in Nepal, out of 647,744 people surveyed. This is 0.8% of the sample population. In 2019, the Autism Care Nepal Society (ACNS estimated) that some 300,000 children were living with autism in Nepal. There has been a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/why-are-autism-cases-rising-in-nepal">worrying increase in autism among younger Nepalis</a>, partly due to increased awareness and diagnosis of the condition. Management and support systems, however, are sorely lacking.&nbsp;

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Autism awareness with art

As part of a broader series of international displays, <a href="https://www.bonhams.com/auction/28762/lain-singh-bangdel-mountains-and-migration/">‘Lain Singh Bangdel: Mountains and Migration’</a> will be put up at the fine arts auction house and valuer, Bonhams, London till Tuesday. The exhibition turned auction has been held from 11-21 November, and features twenty-four selected paintings by Bangdel, an acclaimed author, art preservationist, and art historian who died in Kathmandu in 2002 at age 83. His daughter, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/On-the-way-up/complete-projects-of-Dina-Bangdel,977">Dina Bangdel</a>, who was also a scholar of Asian art, died in 2017. &nbsp; The artist’s son-in-law and Dina’s husband Bibhakar Shakya says he is seeking to immortalise the Bangdel family influence, keeping their passion for art alive in the art scene in Nepal and internationally. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/for-arts-sake/lain-singh-bangdel-s-sigh">Lain Singh Bandgel's 'sigh'</a>, Rajan Sakya “The opening night at Bonhams was a huge success and garnered significant attention with a considerable turnout, a testament to Owen Duffy, the curator and the extremely supportive team at Bonhams,” Shakya told Nepali Times over the phone from London.&nbsp; He added: “I was truly delighted at how well the exhibition was received and I know my late father-in-law and late wife would have been proud.” Initially intended for viewing only, the exhibition became an auction in an effort to test the market. One painting, Song of Himalaya, sold to a private buyer for a significant amount, vindicating Shakya’s value of his father-in-law’s works.&nbsp; “Now that we have a record”, he said, of what an original Bangdel is worth, “we can only go up from here”.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023111912110_55d5258fdeec25808e4808b14262ed76a179c600e3065e341b6e10cfff5ff444.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023111912110_55d5258fdeec25808e4808b14262ed76a179c600e3065e341b6e10cfff5ff444" data-rendition-name="original" width="1674" height="1183" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bangdel"> <figcaption>Lain Singh Bangdel (1919-2002) paints a portrait of Balkrishna Sama in 1975. Photos: AGAINST THE CURRENT</figcaption> </figure>  Born in Darjeeling, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lain-singh-bangdel-s-legacy-lives-on">Lain Singh Bangdel</a> (1919-2002) lived a multifaceted life, embarking on a dynamic journey across continents and cultures. He was a friend of Indian film director Satyajit Ray whom he knew in Calcutta. In the 1960s he was invited to Nepal under King Mahendra’s initiative to bring creative Nepali intellectuals home, and this marked a watershed in Bangdel’s career. He was General Secretary of the Nepal Art Council and fronted a Nepali artistic renaissance, writing many books, one of which, Stolen Images from Nepal (1989), served to return stolen artefacts back to their rightful home.&nbsp; The various socio-cultural influences that surrounded Bangdel's upbringing shaped him into not only a prominent artist, but also an acclaimed author, art preservationist, and art historian.&nbsp; In his early years in art, Bangdel graduated top of his class from the Government College of Art &amp; Craft in Kolkata and continued to pursue his passion at the École des Beaux Arts in Paris. The dynamic artistic atmosphere of Europe at the time meant Bangdel encountered and developed connections with celebrated contemporaries like Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/lain-singh-bangdel-in-new-york">Lain Singh Bandgel in New York</a>, Ashish Dhakal “These artists had an influence on Bangdel's works in the 50s, one can discern the essence of Picasso's Blue Period, evident in the ‘Lady in Blue’ that employs the palette to evoke a sense of melancholy in the viewer,” explained Shakya. He added: “Bangdel conveyed traditional Nepali concepts through the medium of modern art. This unique harmonious fusion of traditional and modern themes, represent the structures and landscapes that shaped his formative years and highlight inspiration he drew from peoples and culture in Nepal.” Dina Bangdel was a respected expert of Asian art and had her father’s passion for Nepali art as well as a commitment to championing emerging Nepali artists. Her early demise in 2017 created a significant void in the South Asian art scene.&nbsp; Dina had a strong wish to continue the legacy woven by her father and wanted to hold exhibitions of her father’s art. “Tragically, that could not happen,” recalls Shakya.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023111912110_cf3e51425f718d4fc152d87256ceaae52229043119b93d94ccb2ee51672de528.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2023111912110_cf3e51425f718d4fc152d87256ceaae52229043119b93d94ccb2ee51672de528" data-rendition-name="original" width="2020" height="1538" loading="lazy" alt="Dina Bangdel"> <figcaption>Dina Bangdel (1963-2017) with husband Bibhakar Shakya who is supervising the auction in Bonhams.</figcaption> </figure>  Shakya is an economist turned art curator, and says he underwent a transformative shift and immersed himself in the art scene after his wife’s death, assuming the responsibility to complete her vision. &nbsp; Shakya acknowledges that Bangdel is not as well-known as his contemporaries in Paris, and through the Bonhams auction and future exhibitions he seeks to broaden his recognition while simultaneously challenging the prevailing belief that one can make a living as an artist in Nepal today.&nbsp; “This perception has hindered the relationship between Bangdel and the modern Nepali, particularly those in the diaspora,” he said. “I’m inspired by the responses of young Nepali professionals in London to the exhibition, and their excitement at having a Nepali artist being exhibited here. I believe that this is what Dina and Lain would have wanted as well.” Shakya says he now wants to fulfill Dina’s vision to trace the artistic journey from Lain Singh Bangdel till the present day art scene, and will be bringing some emerging Nepali artists to Baltimore for an exhibition in 2026.&nbsp; Shakya’s extensive collection holds between up to 770 original Bangdel artworks, with another 60 or so in public institutions. Some of them will be displayed in exhibitions over the next two years in the United States, Hong Kong, and Kathmandu.&nbsp; There is more: Shakya hopes to adapt one of Bangdel’s novels, Langadako Sathi into a movie to be released in early 2024.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023111912118_08433274961c7e02be63e646b94a20e992c5b6bc8ece230ad10068953f478434.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023111912118_08433274961c7e02be63e646b94a20e992c5b6bc8ece230ad10068953f478434" data-rendition-name="original" width="1166" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel"> <figcaption>Lain SIngh Bandel's self-portrait. Not part of the auction. </figcaption> </figure>  ---  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121112_8572059366f4b03736be93ebb1ba2a5268bcdc03ee913568dda56742345403ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20231119121112_8572059366f4b03736be93ebb1ba2a5268bcdc03ee913568dda56742345403ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="3707" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel painting"> <figcaption>Song of Himalaya, Oil on canvas. Bangdel utilises abstraction to capture a moment where the Himalaya emerge out of dense fog. The painting aims to provoke the viewers imagination sonically, to query the sounds from the atmosphere, lending the artwork its name. SOLD</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121112_50cc232f510fb2f33aaf986d8a0c9fdab74020c15f69ed13b76e1caf7fadcdc9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20231119121112_50cc232f510fb2f33aaf986d8a0c9fdab74020c15f69ed13b76e1caf7fadcdc9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1936" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel paintings"> <figcaption>Moon Over Kathmandu, Oil on canvas. Bangdel paints a copper full moon beaming over the fragrant urban tapestry of Kathmandu at dusk. The moon glows over twin peaks and reflects on the cityscape below, encouraging a sense of intrigue as to what the following day holds. </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121116_3056005d630703dba313e0e3fa2eecf0d81dc73f119e20b4b492950ed4553732.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20231119121116_3056005d630703dba313e0e3fa2eecf0d81dc73f119e20b4b492950ed4553732" data-rendition-name="original" width="3607" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bangdel paintings"> <figcaption>Kathmandu Valley, Oil on canvas. Bangdel highlights the Kathmandu Valley, and in doing so captures the juxtaposition between the bustling inner city and the calm surrounding landscape.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121116_460a14c031a72b1687359ab2e3636c9026539157b0d4dbde3cd5c6100d950c7f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20231119121116_460a14c031a72b1687359ab2e3636c9026539157b0d4dbde3cd5c6100d950c7f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1781" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel paintings"> <figcaption>Lady in Blue, Oil on canvas. The utilisation of a blue palette in this painting nods to Picasso's renowned Blue Period. With a brooding subject at its centre, the strategic use of colour seeks to evoke a specific emotional response from the observer — a sense of melancholy.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121116_2961dfaf984246978a1e9739fa82cf4242ca693da62596f43af666a8b3b8ecaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20231119121116_2961dfaf984246978a1e9739fa82cf4242ca693da62596f43af666a8b3b8ecaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="2008" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel paintings"> <figcaption>Full Moon Night, Gouache on paper. Painted during Bangdel’s time in Paris, this artwork employs distorted scales and non-linear angles to represent the nocturnal modern city scape – empty yet awaiting exploration.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231119121116_8aad13a2d1805f1a0e98f51c0cb190d5f7e4707203a28778c3121d83b9baaecd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20231119121116_8aad13a2d1805f1a0e98f51c0cb190d5f7e4707203a28778c3121d83b9baaecd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2065" height="2880" loading="lazy" alt="Lain Singh Bandgel paintings"> <figcaption>Lady, Oil on canvas. The artwork seeks to represent a recurrent theme in Bangdel’s work: melancholy. The subject is purposefully hunched to address the suffering experienced by an impoverished society. Bangdel wanted to bring awareness to broader social issues.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;

Lain Singh Bandgel lives on

Near Pimbahal Pokhari in Patan is a vast courtyard lined with historic Newa houses. At the centre is the two-tiered pagoda of Ratneswar Mahadev.&nbsp; The original carvings on the windows, doors, cornices date back at least to the 14th century. However, radio-carbon analysis of a sample taken from the western doorframe of the temple suggests a date somewhere between 1020 and 1210 CE, making the 8m-tall temple one of the oldest tiered structures in Kathmandu Valley. Sixteen beautifully carved wooden struts support the temple roofs, and most of these were stolen in the 1970s and 1980s, along with the other wooden carvings of the temple. The struts depicted the distinctively stylised and elongated figures of Salabhanjika: standing full breasted slender figures, with wide hips and crossed legs, holding a tree branch with one hand. They stood above the yaksas, their male counterparts, who are by contrast stout and unrefined.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714054_8367e31a8ae034d0f61889f1cb360d696f2c0229b98f4c2ddda0e4423eca6c1b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023051714054_8367e31a8ae034d0f61889f1cb360d696f2c0229b98f4c2ddda0e4423eca6c1b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3259" height="4888" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  By the 1980s, the temple had further deteriorated, the roof had collapsed and all but two of the temple’s original primary struts had been stolen. Those only survived because one was buried in debris inside and another was taken by a sympathetic neighbour for safekeeping, and both are currently on display at the Patan Museum. One of the stolen struts was finally returned to Patan this week from Australia’s Art Gallery of New South Wales (AGNSW) where it was located in 2001, almost 50 years after it was stolen.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714054_1229837934f7f8770a9da7281b640b5172b35912cedfddf20be3bfecf3869bdd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023051714054_1229837934f7f8770a9da7281b640b5172b35912cedfddf20be3bfecf3869bdd" data-rendition-name="original" width="3259" height="4888" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  AGNSW Director Michael Brand formally handed over the strut to Heramba Raj Rajopadhyay, the head priest of the Ratneswar Temple on 16 May 2023. In attendance were Australia’s Assistant Foreign Minister Tim Watts (see interview, below) and Mayor of Lalitpur Metropolitan City Chiri Babu Maharjan. Watts said at the ceremony: “In 1975, thieves took it, illegally removed it. A collector acquired it, treasured it. When he died, he donated it. It sat in an Australian art gallery, which exhibited it, honoured it. People came to see it, were moved by its elegance and craft. But it didn’t belong there either – that wasn’t its home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714054_8e1507cca47cdba601fa25db3cfd484c6f0cc6a0436094d36dbc8adccf335d2a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023051714054_8e1507cca47cdba601fa25db3cfd484c6f0cc6a0436094d36dbc8adccf335d2a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2859" height="4288" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  Thousands of stone, metal and wooden heritage have been stolen from the Kathmandu Valley since the 1970s and, as with many of these artefacts, how this particular strut was smuggled out of the country remains a mystery.&nbsp; What is known is that in the intervening years, the strut changed hands until it reached Alex Biancardi, an Australian-British collector of Asian art. Coming from an old family from Alexandria in Egypt, Biancardi arrived in Australia in 1947 after a stint in the air force, where he became a textile trader. He returned to France in 1962 but would frequently revisited Australia. He died in November 1998, bequeathing much of his collections to the AGNSW, including the Ratneswar strut in 2000. In 2001, scholar Mary Slusser informed the gallery that she had taken photographs of the struts in 1969 before they were stolen. The gallery began its own research to find out more about where it came from, but because of the turmoil in Nepal after the royal massacre could not return it.&nbsp; Brand first visited Nepal with his brother in 1973 when he was only 15 and met architectural conservator John Sanday who was then leading restoration work on the Hanuman Dhoka.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/remembering-nepals-lost-and-the-found">Remembering Nepal's lost and the found</a>, Ashish Dhakal He told Nepali Times: “Nepal changed my life, and ultimately led to me studying the art of South Asia before becoming a curator, and then an art museum director.”&nbsp; Brand would then later join the J Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles in 2005 as its director. In 2010, the Getty was under extreme pressure from the Italian and Greek governments to return Italian, Greek and Etruscan antiquities.&nbsp; Getty returned 45 artefacts to Italy, signing an agreement for cultural exchange, which allowed for the museum to borrow on long-term loan other objects.&nbsp; So, when heard about the Ratneswar strut at the AGNSW, Brand was already experienced in working through these issues and realising what the best approach would be. “The number one goal for me to protect artefacts from looting no matter where it stays,” he says.&nbsp; Back in Nepal, restoration of the temple began in earnest in 1992 by the KVPT and World Monuments Fund (WMF). Replicas of the stolen struts were designed based on Slusser's photographs and the caretaker's memories by Indra Kaji Shilpakar in 1998.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714054_1179ac406a52a64d07796476b00bc0310ae9522cd11ab9cb6f8c2cae1a123c32.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2023051714054_1179ac406a52a64d07796476b00bc0310ae9522cd11ab9cb6f8c2cae1a123c32" data-rendition-name="original" width="2933" height="4399" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  But immediately after the first restoration, one of the strut reproductions and the toran were stolen, with the most recent theft 10 years ago. Slusser then wrote: ‘Attempts to steal the modern reproductions from the temple made it clear that the (AGNSW) strut had best be left on loan to Australia.’&nbsp; Between 2001 and 2006, the Gallery and the KVPT investigated options for returning the sculpture and agreed that, for safekeeping, the Gallery would retain custody of the strut. Roshan Mishra of Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign notes that Slusser however did not have the authority on where the strut should stay, that say belonged to the community of Sulima. On a visit to the AGNSW in 2019, Mishra found that the gallery displayed the strut, specifying that it was originally from the Ratneswar temple in Patan, which he says was unusual for galleries and museums to do.&nbsp; The discussions between the gallery and Nepal government were once again hampered by the 2015. But the strut was formally deaccessioned by the gallery in 2022, and the governor of New South Wales signed off on the return.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714054_0e8bd039620dfb76662ed1dc1d9ef189cbe47aa278fdbb58544c22bb035369ff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023051714054_0e8bd039620dfb76662ed1dc1d9ef189cbe47aa278fdbb58544c22bb035369ff" data-rendition-name="original" width="3071" height="4606" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  Brand adds that the return and his trip to Nepal are important to build a relation with curators, scholars, the Department of Archaeology, the ministries, the community in Nepal and Australia. “Nepal is fortunate to have such fantastic culture that people are interested in,” he says. Two other struts from the Ratneswar Temple have since been located by Lost Arts of Nepal: one in the collection of Chino Roncoroni, and other with Theresa McCullough in London. The return of the strut is among the many stolen cultural heritage returned in recent years from museums, galleries and collections abroad. On 11 May 2023, the American Homeland Security Investigations handed over to the Embassy of Nepal in DC 40 artefacts, including 39 engraved and painted wooden panels and a carved wooden shrine dated to the 19th-20th century. Earlier, stone statues of Uma Mahesvara, Chaturmukh Shivlinga, Nagaraja, Padmanpani and Shakyamuni Buddha were repatriated and wooden statues of Nritya Devi and standing stone statue of Lord Buddha. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Read on: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/faith-stolen-lost-in-nepal-found-in-america?fbclid=IwAR339kc1dVacPz-FtNvJMdX7wBCk68KWkYD9EYasJsPphlbsQdwG-cfMkSg">Faith Stolen: Lost in Nepal, found in America</a> <h2>"The joy of returning it to the place it belongs"</h2> Australia’s Assistant Foreign Minister Tim Watts attended the historic handing over of the stolen strut from Patan’s Sulima Ratneswar temple on 16 May. He spoke to Nepali Times after the ceremony. Excerpts:  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023051714058_031d022cf7263778751f47e9e3fdee9583729390136a17354b103d83df40f521.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2023051714058_031d022cf7263778751f47e9e3fdee9583729390136a17354b103d83df40f521" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> <figcaption>The Australian Assistant Minister for Foreign Affiars Hon Tim Watts, MP, in conversation with Mayor of Lalitpur Chiri Babu Maharjan at the handing over ceremony for the Ratneshwar Mahadev strut on Tuesday. Photo: TIM WATTS MP/FACEBOOK</figcaption> </figure>  Nepali Times: How did you come to find out about the strut and why did you want to visit Nepal for its return?&nbsp; Tim Watts: As the Australian Assistant Minister for Foreign affairs, we often say that Australia’s foreign policy begins with our identity. Australia is one of the most multicultural countries in the world: half of Australians are either born overseas or have a parent born overseas. This connects us with every corner of the world which can look at Australia and see it reflected. We can look into ourselves and understand the world better. The Nepali Australian community is the fastest growing in Australia, with about 130,000 Australians having Nepali ancestry. I was interested in the Australia-Nepal relations in that context. I understand the deep importance of faith and culture for our diaspora community, and maintaining that connection with their country of origin. I became aware through the Embassy of Nepal of the discussions between the AGNSW, the Department of Archaeology in Nepal (DoA), and the Ministry of Culture, Tourism and Civil Aviation about the investigation into the provenance of this tudal (strut) from the Ratneswar temple, and its potential repatriation. And I thought this was enormously praiseworthy of the gallery and this was a model of the ethical practice in international obligations and wanted to show my support. The credit here goes to the AGNSW because they were the ones, when made aware of the potential problematic provenance of the tudal, engaged in the investigation, worked with the authorities in Nepal, and arranged for the repatriation. And my presence here is to throw the spotlight on [the repatriation] as the best practice and saying that the Australian government supports and endorses it. What can be the process for this best practice? Each artefact will have its own cultural context, its own history and present-day circumstance that will impact what the best practice is for it. Its safety is an important consideration, the changing cultural contexts of governments on both sides matter as well. There is not only one appropriate response. The momentum we have been seeing around the world for governments recognising where it is best to repatriate is a really positive thing that we want to show our support for.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230517140516_f801b6b3dc2661f380f13fa6b23c378cf737753d0f5956c5206b31689e4b1f8e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20230517140516_f801b6b3dc2661f380f13fa6b23c378cf737753d0f5956c5206b31689e4b1f8e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4888" height="3259" loading="lazy" alt="Australian galley returns stolen strut to Nepal"> </figure>  Like Australia, Nepal is also a multilingual and multicultural country. How does it feel to witness the handing over? I found it to be enormously meaningful and a moving celebration, for a number of reasons. Firstly, being there on the ground, it was really clear how much this tudal meant to the local community, to see the joy of returning it to the place it belongs to them. It was not just a historical artefact but a living expression of culture. It was also meaningful to me as a representative of the Australian government that puts our identity at the heart of our foreign policy. I know how meaningful acts like this are to our Australian Nepalis. I had a number of meetings with the Nepali communities in Australia before I came here. The word that this happening had gone around, and people were really proud that Australia was the kind of country that returned cultural artefacts and didn’t unjustly hold on to them. Obviously, there are many cultural contexts of removal, et cetera, and it’s difficult to generalise. But in this particular instance, the best practice was to return it and I was proud to have been part of that. I was aware of an increasing number of artefacts returning to Nepal in particular, largely from the US, and I think that the momentum behind the returns is a really positive thing. That is part of why we were very keen on holding a public celebration of this repatriation, to draw attention to this as a model of the best ethical practice and international cooperation. It is important to us Australians to see that we not just repatriate the artefact but we model to the world on how we do this. A reason behind this is that many Australian cultural artefacts are held in institutions away from Australia, and more egregiously the remains of Indigenous Australians held in academic and cultural institutions. We have often sought the return of these to Australia because they are incredibly meaningful to Indigenous Australians who have a profound connection with the place and country they come from and it is enormously distressing for them when they are removed from the country. What does the repatriation of this strut from Ratneswar mean to the Australia-Nepal relations? There was intense cooperation between the Nepali and Australian governments, the embassy, and the DoA. I think that as a multicultural country, Australia has a lot of experience in the importance of cultural heritage to our diaspora communities. There is this phenomenon where the further you are from your mother country, the more intensely you value, celebrate and want to preserve that culture. As such, this is doubly meaningful for the Nepali-Australian community because it validates and supports their cultural practices and connects them to Nepal, and also gives them pride in their Australian identity – that they are a member of the country that does the right thing with respect to cultural artefacts. There is nothing more Australian than celebrating our multicultural identity. Read more: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-nepali-antiquities-got-to-chicago-museum">How Nepali antiquities got to Chicago museum</a>, Alisha Sijapati

Ashish Dhakal

Australian gallery returns stolen strut to Nepal

<div class="embed-block"><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/issue/133">							<img width="762" height="261" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150236/63fe11c39c7e80680e0da4f5jpeg.jpg" alt=""></a>
											Issue #133 21-27 February 2003</div>
The obsession of our leaders with Singapore is unmatched. Every prime minister we have had in the 30 years (some of them serial prime ministers) has promised to turn Nepal into a Singapore one too many times. Why not just build a Nepal that is just and fair for everyone?
Many readers are going through a withdrawal syndrome after the Ass formally stepped down, including the author his-self. This week we revisit one of the earlier <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4308#.Y_guAy8w1KM">‘Under My Hat’ columns</a> which takes a dig at our Singaporean aspirations.&nbsp;
Excerpts from <a href="https://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_133.pdf">issue #133 21-27 February 2003</a> 20 years ago this week:
If, one day, we want to become filthy rich like the Singaporeans, it is pretty clear that we must institute stiff fines for all major and minor misdemeanours and also turn ourselves into a penal colony.
But let’s be realistic: do our army, navy and air force have the capacity to instill fines on every non-flushing Nepali? Sadly, the answer is an unequivocal “no”. So, unlike Singapore, which penalises offenders with fines, we must use positive enforcement by rewarding those who do things right. In Nepal, instead of taking money away from those who litter, we must give money to those who don’t.
Cash prize of Rs 2,000 for the lone pedestrian who actually used the overhead walkway at Bhotahity in the last fiscal year. To be presented at a public felicitation ceremony chaired by the Mayor of Kathmandu or the MP of Kathmandu, whoever is elected first.
The Honest Cop Award in Cash or Kind for the pre-embarkation security check personnel at Tribhuvan Intercontinental Ballistic Airport who doesn’t ask you to open your wallet during the mandatory body search and contribute generously to the Free Lunch Fund for Kathmandu’s Finest.
The columnist who adheres to the highest standards of personal hygiene by not grooming his nostrils in full view of the rest of his staff during the course of writing the above column. This award carries with it a permanent residence certificate for Singapore. Terima Kasi.
From archive material of Nepali Times of the past 20 years, site search: <a href="http://www.nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">www.nepalitimes.com</a>

Singha Darbar, not Singapore

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234099c7e80680e0c4911jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2348"/><figcaption>Photo: ASHISH DHAKAL.</figcaption></figure>Siddhartha Art Gallery is once again alive with a vibrant colour palette, meticulously textured on canvas, depicting stunning expressions of devotion and dedication to art, inspiration and shakti.Renowned <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Manandhar-fourth-exhibit-Nepal,2641" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">artist Kiran Manandhar</a>’s latest show ‘Samarpan’ – his first in four years – adds a delectable frenzy of red, orange, blue, black and white to the space. The gap in between the canvases sit like columns or bars, as though the frames were each a window and the viewers were staring directly into the eyes of providence.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372340d9c7e80680e0c4912jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="654"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234109c7e80680e0c4913jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="621">Photos: SAGAR MANANDHARIt is immediately difficult to group these artworks in a single genre. The softer lines and sharper angles are balanced by almost distinct faces. The curves of eyes, lips and limbs are bracketed by amorphous flames and shadows. There is a certain vagueness about the paintings – like the waves and ripples one sees in rivers or the sea – and the deities, Kali, Brahmayani, Kumari, Vaishnavi,  Ganesh, Seto and Rato Machhindranath, look abstract enough, but Manandhar will not relent so easily.“I am like a bird,” he says sitting under a parasol outside the gallery, as a sparrow skips across the courtyard paved with bricks on to a nearby bush. “I don’t make art saying one style or another, I like to hop from one branch to another, from one tree to another."Manandhar jokes that birds do not need visas to fly around. This desire for no restriction, to dissolve borders (at least in art) is strikingly conspicuous in ‘Samarpan’. Stylistically diverse, the paintings and a couple charcoal drawings even transcend philosophies and the various global schools of art. Influences of the European masters, for instance, blend in with the traditional Nepali figures, iconography and style.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234139c7e80680e0c4914jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3976" height="2352"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234179c7e80680e0c4915jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2523" height="2478"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nature and light also create an overall dream-like impression. Perhaps this ever-moving effect produced may be explained by Manandhar’s own drive to understand what art is. He is not being coy when he candidly admits, “Even after all these years, I still don’t know what a painting is.” This admission sums up his oeuvre.In fact, it is also an expression of the phenomenological conundrum: can one ever truly understand a concept or craft absolutely? Perhaps when one knows what painting is entirely, one does not need to paint anymore, but Manandhar has no intention of stopping. He describes the itch to make art, even at odd hours and places: working to figure out, to develop one’s skills and understanding:“I cannot stop,” he says, “My wish is to paint, to take Nepal’s name everywhere.”An evidence of this is ‘Samarpan’ which may appear at the outset to be very different from what the general public has come to take Manandhar’s modern and abstract works in the past. Abstract art, after all, has roots in indigenous and folk art.There is much variety here and the paintings do not want to be tied down to a particular adjective or movement. They are themselves in motion instead, to show the world and other artists, especially young ones, just how much there is to do.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372341b9c7e80680e0c4916jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2279"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>‘Samarpan’ is the fruit of labour of four year and a couple paintings go far back as 2016. Much of the work was made during the Covid-19 pandemic and the title refers to  the dedication, the offering made to art, to inspiration, to the many artists who were compelled to give up by the pandemic and the constraints it invited, and to Nepal which Manandhar so lovingly calls ‘devbhumi’ – land of gods.To call them patriotic or nationalistic would be missing the point, for this presupposes borders which Manandhar wishes to bring down. While the gods depicted are Nepali in essence, the art is an homage, a look towards the past and the traditions. It is also a representation of a spiritual landscape and the power of divine inspiration. After all, who can traverse boundaries and partitions as easily as the gods?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372341e9c7e80680e0c4917jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="3008"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/art-for-a-cause/">Artists have to be sensitive</a>,” he adds, “We have to be observant and thoughtful.” But he admits it is not easy being one. Many artists, he says, especially young, are compelled to give up because there is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6263#.Yvy_xH1ByJB" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">no immediate ‘sound and effect’</a> result in art.He recalls speaking to other artists who are now abroad and no longer painting, who lament the lack of support and opportunities in Nepal. “One works for as long as one can,” he says. “Which is why a good support system is necessary that brings together artists, educators and patrons.”SamarpanBy Kiran ManandharSiddhartha Art Gallery.Baber Mahal RevisitedOpen 11:00AM – 5:00PMTill 24 August 2022.

Art for art's sake

<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fc09c7e80680e0c2531jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1333"/>For 19 days in May, artist Sushila Singh followed the Rato Machhindranath chariot, its construction from the ground up.She sat, watching the locals gather material to build the rath and sketched the progress in real time, the chariot taking form in sharp, meticulously sketched black lines.By the time Bunga Dyo Jatra was over, Singh had made 19 drawings, 16 of which will be on display at the upcoming exhibition at the Museum of Nepali Art (MoNA) starting 17 July.Singh came to Pulchok from Baneswor every morning at around 5 before her two children were up.“It was helpful that they didn’t have school then,” she quips. She would work for two to three hours before the sun got too warm, sometimes returning in the evenings to plan where she could sit and work the next day.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fc49c7e80680e0c2532jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1530" height="2000">The series is reminiscent of the chronophotography, the 19th-century photography technique that captured multiple phases of motion, and prompt one to imagine the drawings placed side-by-side and then moved at lightning-speed.The chariot of Bunga Dyo grows before the viewer’s eyes: first the wheels, then the wooden columns. Slowly the storeys add and the skeleton rises. Then comes the outer layer of green Juniper and vines, which look like lines reached out to the heavens.Sketched entirely in pen and ink, the drawings strip the rath off any ostentatiousness, presenting it in its essential form. In the shifting hues of a consistent palette, the audience notices how the shape, size and depth of the lines change according to the light, and where Singh must have sat when she made them.The light is not exactly visible on the canvas, but Singh leaves clues. In one of the drawings, for example, a rope extends, curls and breaks.She explains, “I drew it as it appeared to me when the light hit it from behind.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fc79c7e80680e0c2533jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1333" height="2000">In some ways, the gradual growth in the drawings is also reflective of Singh’s own artistic journey, inviting the viewer to think about the dedicated creative process.Like many artists, she too began drawing at a young age, making hills and mountains in school, and filling in the colours.“I remember I used to make postcards during Guru Purnima and other festivals myself and gift them to my teachers and friends,” she says, but this did not necessarily mean that she knew she wanted to be an artist later in life: in fact, all she was certain about was that she did not want to do a 9-5 job.In 2004, after completing her bachelor’s in accounting, Singh joined Lalit Kala Campus for fine arts without telling anyone.“Even then I did not know what I wanted to do,” she recalls, a wide smile across her face, “but I enjoyed art school very much, and slowly, almost subconsciously, I became an artist.”<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fca9c7e80680e0c2534jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1313" height="2000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fcd9c7e80680e0c2535jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1322" height="2000">Many art students begin with portraiture, and Singh’s portraits were well-received in her family. Her parents, she recalls, did not force dreams and ambitions upon her. “They were pleased and encouraging,” she says.Then in 2011, she had a successful first solo exhibition at the Nepal Art Council, some pieces from the show will be displayed at MoNA as well.These works are striking for their linework, and also the fact that Singh made the canvases herself, unfolding the paper on a stretcher and then applying three layers of white texture.But Singh’s œuvre is multimedia. She had in 2019 an exhibition showcasing her work on paper and with ceramics, ‘Udaan, Beyond Bounds’.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fd19c7e80680e0c2536jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1334" height="2000">Highlights of the exhibition were the iconic dream-like temple pagodas in black and orange strokes, with oblique finials, as though one were looking up at an exceedingly tall monument –– and earned her a National Award.She repeated the feat in 2021 with her brick installation at Gallery MCube, a section of which will be reproduced at MoNa.She did learn to work with pencil in the beginning, but Singh now prefers to draw directly with pen and ink without outlining. But Singh enjoys this intense artistic experience: “I find that it helps me be more confident, and thoughtful.”Perhaps this is only fitting for an artist whose works reflect long periods of careful thinking and thorough patience, often accompanied by philosophical enquiries. “I am also the kind of person who thinks about where these thoughts come from,” Singh says laughing.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111413118/63722fd59c7e80680e0c2537jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1333" height="2000">She recalls that during her work on the chariot of Bunga Dyo, she found parallels between the structure, the construction, and the different private and public persona of people.“As in the case of the rath, we only ever see the outside, what’s apparent, and very few of us pause to think about what’s hidden,” she says. “After all, the rath cannot stand unless it is one with the people and the people with each other.”The many layers of meanings and musings are characteristic of Singh’s artwork, which become even more pertinent when one realises that no women participate in the construction of the rath, except as spectators or on a specific day when only women pull the chariot from Lagankhel to Thati.In these 16 exquisite drawings, Sushil’s Singh has built her own chariot.The exhibition will take place alongside that of Raj Prakash Man Tuladhar at the Museum of Nepali Art, Thamel 17-30 July 2022.Read more: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/makers-of-machhindranath,2204">Makers of Machhindranath</a>, Cynthia Choo

Sketching the chariot of the rain god

<img width="1811" height="944" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637208939c7e80680e0b54f3jpeg.jpg" alt=""/>“In dark times, will there also be singing? Yes, there will be singing, about the dark times.”German playwright Bertolt Brecht’s words echoes and remains relevant, particularly in South Asia, as underscored by prominent artists at <a href="https://southasiapeace.com/2022/01/24/event-jan-30-resisting-together-art-and-the-artist-in-south-asia/">Resisting Together: Art and the Artist in South Asia</a>, a recent online gathering.The discussion, organised by the <a href="https://southasiapeace.com/">South Asia Peace Action Network</a> (Sapan) highlighted how the arts and resistance shape each other especially as the region’s regimes drift towards authoritarianism.The deliberations highlighted how political turmoil and violence have catalysed creativity with many artists grounding their work in response to the challenges.“There is an artist in each one of us,” asserted event host Kavita Srivastava, a human rights activist and feminist in Jaipur.As revolutionary poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz once said about the artists’ role in time of turmoil: “Even though I run no state, I command no power, I am entitled to feel that I am my brother’s keeper, and my brother is my whole mankind.” said the well-known revolutionary poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz, talking about the role of the artist in resisting injustice.Faiz felt closest to those who were “the insulted, the humiliated, homeless and the disinherited, the poor and the hungry and sick at heart.”Faiz’s daughter, noted artist and educator Salima Hashmi shared his words during her presentation to the meeting. She demonstrated how art is not about a product, but engaging with and critiquing where we live, how we live and what we can do.Her own evocative painting Poem for Zainab emerged in response to a horrific case of domestic violence in the 1990s in which a woman was violated by her cleric husband.From Kathmandu, art curator Sangeeta Thapa of the Siddhartha Art Gallery said: “South Asia is an ancient culture but we are also new nations, and that comes with its own trials and tribulations. The Maoist insurgency was a time of great sorrow, but also marked the beginning of a new age of artivism and collaboration.”The <a href="https://biennialfoundation.org/2021/12/kathmandu-triennale-2077-announces-dates-and-artists/">upcoming Kathmandu Triennale</a> to be launched on 11 February aims to touch upon indigenous voices.  From Colombo, the Sri Lankan artist Chandraguptha Thenuwara said that Sri Lanka’s 30-year long civil war had physically ended, but many issues remained unsolved and questions remained unanswered.He also spoke about the misuse of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) Act to stifle freedom of expression. The struggle within the arts for a new language led to the establishment of the Heywood Institute, now the University of the Visual and Performing Arts. “Without changing mindsets, we can’t go forward”, he said. “Artists must respond to the politics of hate, religious extremism and militarisation.Artist and cultural activist Lubna Marium in Dhaka talked about the difficulties of surviving as an artist “without ever subscribing to any political party or any regime”. She has been engaged in this struggle for 50 years in Bangladesh, where she runs one of the largest dance companies in the country.A Sanskrit scholar, Marium is deeply involved in researching and understanding arts and aesthetics, and is part of a Trust that manages Shodhona: A Center for Advancement of Southasian Culture.  “Resilience is necessary but it is not necessary to be always resistant,” she said. “The concept of resilient subjects as apolitical subjects overlooks the ‘transformability’ of resilience, which in part is about innovating and sowing the seeds of transformation”.Eminent vocalist T M Krishna in Chennai highlighted the problem with focusing only on resisting the state, often at the expense of important and difficult internal conversations. An exponent of the rigorous Carnatic tradition of India’s classical music and public intellectual who regularly engages on socio-cultural issues, he stressed the need to introspect and ask difficult questions.“We need to step back and look at the ugliness in society — whether it’s caste, gender, ethnic othering,” he said. “It’s the people who are on the margins who ask the difficult questions about social and political structures because their conditionality makes it difficult for them to remain silent. Meanwhile, those who are privileged, the middle class and upper classes, aid and abet every form of violence in society.”  The link between art and resilience as well as resistance was highlighted also by eminent feminist activist and theatre and dance exponent Sheema Kermani who joined the session from Karachi.  Simply performing classical Bharatanatyam and Odissi in Pakistan was “an act of defiance, an act of resistance, to the kind of suppression of these arts that we saw during Zia ul Haq’s regime”.In solidarity with the struggle of the Afghans, the event featured a brief clip from a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukgt3comtpg">poem by Ghani Khan,</a> the late prominent Pushto poet, philosopher and artist and son of the highly regarded peace activist Abdul Gaffar Khan. Human rights activist and physician Dr Fauzia Deeba from Quetta introduced the musical rendition by the singer Sardar Ali Takkar.https://youtu.be/ukgt3comtpgParticipants at the online session also endorsed Sapan’s call for a visa-free Southasia, a demand enshrined in the regional coalition’s <a href="https://southasiapeace.com/founding-charter/">Founding Charte</a><a href="https://southasiapeace.com/founding-charter/">r</a> jointly presented at the meeting by the activist couple Lalita Ramdas and former chief of Indian Navy Admiral L. Ramdas, both founder members of Sapan. This event was the tenth monthly webinar organised by Sapan as part of a series titled ‘Imagine! Neighbours in Peace’. The Facebook Live recording of the meeting is <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/456738112648478/">available at this link</a>, with a video log sheet of timestamps <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1V097KwrTvDwT09FUP7FYiJnMSClJsE6f/">at this link</a>.Since its inception in March 2021, on the last Sunday of every month, Sapan has held regional discussions and the February event will focus on the theme of music and radical love with acclaimed artists Saif Samejo, Parvathy Baul, and others.<a href="http://www.southasiapeace.com/">www.southasiapeace.com</a>

Art and resistance in South Asia

<figure><img width="1356" height="640" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204049c7e80680e0b283bjpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>All photos: Milan Rai</figcaption></figure>Milan Rai has come a long way since his project to stick white butterflies to trees in Nepal went viral worldwide. His art has now morphed into activism to save Kathmandu’s open spaces. The self-taught school dropout sees this as a natural evolution of his art, and a reflection of the urgency to do something about <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/cars-vs-people-in-kathmandu/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">congestion and urban decay</a>. “People ask me why I stopped painting, I haven’t. My canvas is now measured in acres of open spaces,” says the 38-year-old artist. “I am no longer limited to the visual, my art is now immersive, so people can smell and taste it, touch the soil, worms and insects that dwell in them. The objects can be struck by lightning. They have life.” <img width="346" height="512" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204089c7e80680e0b283cjpeg.jpg" alt="">Rai’s art is a subterfuge to save what is left of Kathmandu Valley’s last remaining open spaces. This has brought him face-to-face with dysfunctional politicians, disinterested municipality officials, corrupt contractors and neighbourhoods that do not value greenery.  For example, he is outraged about Ncell helping Kathmandu Municipality cover a park in Lainchour with astroturf instead of planting trees and protecting the grass (pictured, left). Rai’s own urban canvas is subversive. He says, “This is political art, land art, it has to hit people at an emotional level to act.”After spending his childhood in Hong Kong with his Gurkha soldier father, Milan Rai returned a misfit to school in Dharan. He was expelled twice, and got into bad company. After a serious gangfight, he found solace in art.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-loses-its-open-spaces/">Kathmandu loses its open spaces</a>, Tom Robertson and Nilima Thapa Shrestha<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-green-city-is-a-smart-city/">A green city is a smart city</a>, Nilima Thapa ShresthaHe entered a painting competition in India, came first, and held his first solo exhibition at Park Gallery in Lalitpur. He started painting in earnest, but something was missing.The epiphany came one morning when a butterfly alighted on his paintbrush. It led Rai to his ‘<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-butterfly-effect,523" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-butterfly-effect,523&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642150244648000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3CvsT5qRK3dCSKdTh1rvVt">Butterfly Project</a>’ to pin white paper cutouts of butterflies on trees, lampposts all over Kathmandu.They were a symbol of harmony, and went viral. In a real-life demonstration of ‘the butterfly effect,’ little white wings started appearing on London’s red double decker buses, pinned to trees on Greek islands, on a staircase at Harvard University. The Nepali artist was invited all over the world for lectures and to demonstrate his installation art. <img width="570" height="1024" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204099c7e80680e0b283djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figure><img width="1024" height="765" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372040c9c7e80680e0b283ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="600" height="460" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/6372040f9c7e80680e0b283fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Butterflies brought me close to trees, and I was communicating with them, only to find out that scientists now know trees can actually communicate with each other,” says Rai.The very first tree in Kathmandu on which he had <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/The-butterfly-artist,3199" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/The-butterfly-artist,3199&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642150244648000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3nihAN-abPseKV2nt_e4gm">pinned butterflies</a> was chopped down to make way for a road widening scheme, and this prompted  Rai to use art to save Kathmandu’s greenery.“I realised that the definition of art had to be expanded, it cannot just be a canvas or an installation, art is not just a craft, it has to be something that provokes the viewer into action,” he explains.As Kathmandu’s air pollution got worse, Rai donned a military issue gas mask and stood in the middle of traffic on the city’s main intersections, broom in hand. He visited municipality offices wearing that mask, using social media to expose government inaction.That brought Rai face-to-face with official apathy and neglect at the root of Kathmandu’s sorry state. By now he was familiar with the ins and outs of the municipalities, and set up the non-proft <a href="https://www.facebook.com/VrikshaNepal/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.facebook.com/VrikshaNepal/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642150244648000&amp;usg=AOvVaw10GgCzqCf-bx4BK2mOB4jP">Vriksha Foundation</a> for his activism.He tried to work with Kathmandu’s mayor to rescue the Tin Kune triangle, only to find that it was not just the government that could thwart action, but also the local community. <figure><img width="218" height="462" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204109c7e80680e0b2840jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>After an emotional live Facebook post in which he wept in frustration, Rai gave up on Kathmandu mayor Bidya Sundar Shakya, and turned to Lalitpur’s Chiribabu Maharjan who was more receptive. Even so, there were hurdles every step of the way from contractors and officialdom.                   His plan to green an open space at Jawalakhel intersection was rejected in favour of a sterile cement wasteland with concrete structures and an ugly fountain that does not work.But Rai is currently working to green four other open roadside spaces in the Jawalakhel area with leafy paths and shaded sitting areas. He has made enemies along way: land mafia eyeing the property and contractors who could not sell cement and steel rods. <figure><img width="1500" height="708" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111410110/637204139c7e80680e0b2841jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“This is a tragedy of the commons,” says Rai, who emphasises that he is not happy with the parks he is working on. “These are not my creations, I am just trying to reduce harm. It needed urgent intervention, but my vision for these spaces has not been realised. These parks are not answers, they are questions.”After <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/art-aid-kcac-exhibition-thinking-of-you-quake-relief,2304" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/art-aid-kcac-exhibition-thinking-of-you-quake-relief,2304&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1642150244648000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3b-VVv1jrgth6P4m0iBcHr">painting on canvas</a>, sticking butterflies on trees, wearing gas masks in traffic, and trying to rescue open spaces, Rai now realises these approaches are too piecemeal.He adds, “The system is just not there to have a policy framework to address urban decay. People also need to understand that we do not need more structures, we need to rediscover our primal intimacy with the non-human world.”  Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/parks-not-parking-lots/">Parks, not parking lots</a>, Duksangh Sherpa

Kunda Dixit

Nepali artist’s butterfly effect

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14ae9c7e80680e0a998cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3210" height="3156"/><figcaption>The Dark Light by Dipesh Nepali.</figcaption></figure>At first glance, it screams utter sorrow. It projects out-and-out unhappiness of the mind, body and soul, a feeling of having given up on life itself. It is dark, it is lonely, it is sad.But do not dismiss <a href="https://www.mona.com.np/art/v/the-dark-light" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">the painting</a>, give it some time to grow on you. The painting may fleetingly transport viewers to painful periods of their lives, long repressed. Most of us have experienced such 'dark' moments, where we struggled and persevered only to emerge elatedly on the other side.This painting is the work of 16-year-old Dipesh Nepali who is from a village in Jumla district, in the isolated mountains of north-western Nepal. An ordinary school student, Dipesh has had a difficult life in a harsh environment where food is often scarce, winters are long and dreary, and access to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-one-nepali-mother-at-a-time/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">basic healthcare and education is minimal</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14b19c7e80680e0a998djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="961"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>In his spare time, after finishing his household chores, Dipesh likes to draw and paint. It is his escape from the daily grind, a chance to express himself and bare his soul."Art was my escape from the world, and from myself,” Dipesh told me recently. “It is a way to be truly free from the chains of family and society. It is where the chaos of my mind and soul find rest, art is a medium to bring it all out."Talking to the young artist in Kathmandu recently helped me understand the written and unwritten rules of society, not least materialism and the desperate search for instant, superficial gratification which ultimately led him to seek solitude, go into hiding, and retreat into himself.Yet, in his work, Dipesh has retained the curiosity of his childhood, the questioning and seeking, and in doing so he has discovered that art resided within him. It only needed to be kindled gently to become a powerful tool.At first glance, this painting does not seem to inspire much, it looks ordinary and is not pleasing to the eye, either. But give it time and space to incubate, and it radiates a quiet energy, like an inner applause for a battle won ove<a name="m_1340593093098604498__GoBack"></a>r negative emotions. Proof that the artist has been at a low point in his life, and is back up to show us how it felt.If we reflect on the painting long enough, it may bring back our own dark moments, reminding some of us of the process of recovery, how we emerged stronger, determined and self-reliant. No matter what our struggle, there is always more ahead to look forward to. But evoking and honouring these memories empowers us to meet adversity head-on and overcome themDipesh was confused about himself and about his passion for art. So, he travelled to Kathmandu seeking skill and exposure. Luckily, his older brother was in the city and took care of him.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/i-m-a-g-i-n-a-t-i-o-n-by-uttam-nepali/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">IMAGINATION by Uttam Nepali</a>, Rajan Sakya"Yet, internally I found no relief, being weighed down with my own thoughts, feelings and emotions. I submerged myself in my work, as an escape. Hard work became a form of a band-aid, but it never really healed the wounds,” Dipesh relates.As a teenager, I too had issues like Dipesh. And as a way to escape them, I travelled to the United States at age 17. My band-aid was enrolling as an exchange student, my senior year in high school. Folks in Nepal covered my costs, and I lived with an American family for a year.Unfortunately, I had developed vitiligo, a depigmentation of skin colour. For a teenager trying to adapt to a new society, this was disheartening. With no relatives or friends, I felt totally isolated, not because I was bullied, but due to the turmoil inside me.My horror at my own appearance and how people would view me was unbearble. I lacked confidence, kept away from people, afraid of how they would react. It got to the point where for four months I ate my lunch in the school bathroom, and then went straight to class. There was a sense of achievement in just avoiding people.Today, I no longer feel embarrassed or inferior. I believe those hard years gave me a solid foundation to face anything and everything that life throws at me.Dipesh Nepali’s art transports me back to that time of my own life: the sadness, the loneliness, the anxiety, the feeling of being trapped by powers beyond my control. Yet it also reminds me of a personal battle that I waged and won over myself. I would not be who I am today if it was not for that ordeal.Dipesh’s mind has travelled further than his young body. With an incredibly mature and unique vision of the world, one finds in his work expressions of anguish and a yearning to be free. Painting has become an outlet to bring out his repressed emotions and feelings.The depth in his art is there for everyone to see, but less obvious are numerous and varied technical skills he has improvised to create his painting -- his choice of oils to achieve a unique blend and shades of colours. The painting is now on exhibit at the Museum of Nepali Art (MoNA) in Kathmandu.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-compassionate-white-tara/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">A work of art</a> can mean a different thing for different people, response is by definition subjective. Dipesh Nepali's art touched the deepest and darkest parts of my own past, and reminded me of my own struggles. But I also found contentment and peace in the darkest reaches of this canvas.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016118/636d14b49c7e80680e0a998ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="853"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Rajan Sakya is the founder of the <a href="https://www.mona.com.np/" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.mona.com.np/&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1636885001579000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3ALJGKdDeixs8GvIU7FLGG">Museum of Nepali Art</a> at Kathmandu Guest House, Thamel and contributes this monthly column For Art’s Sake in Nepali Times.

Rajan Sakya

Dipesh Nepali’s dark light

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13489c7e80680e0a9915jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240"/><figcaption>All photos: MONIKA DEUPALA</figcaption></figure>A vast circle is crammed with densely packed houses stacked on top of one another. Drawn in black ink, their edges merge as they jostle in space.The narrow strips between the houses have fluid shadows, but in the middle of this urban universe is a white hole. “That is a doughnut,” says a visitor, at the Siddhartha Art Gallery where artist Sujan Dangol’s meticulous line drawings are on display at the <a href="https://www.siddharthaartgallery.com/exhibition-events/342-tale-of-a-city-invitation">Tales of a City exhibition</a> till the end of the month.“I cannot impose my concepts or ideas on viewers, their interpretation is just as genuine and appropriate because they view it subjectively as their own background, thoughts and feelings come into play,” Dangol explains in his studio in Koteshwor. Light bounces off his round glasses as the 40-year-old artist's gaze turns to the large window on his left.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d134b9c7e80680e0a9916jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3024" height="4032"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The studio is an open space with sofas, bookstands and tables about. In one corner is a large painting — “A friend is working on that one,” Dangol says — and metal and clay sculptures sit on various shelves. He is dressed in a long, brown corduroy shirt, and his hand hangs above a work in progress: another large canvas, nearly filled to the brim with tiny houses and streets.It is clear that the drawings depict the tremendous transformation that has turned Kathmandu Valley’s rich urban-agro civilisation into <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19765#.YZDL21VByJA">a concrete jungle</a>. Dangol’s sketches represent dizzying, densely packed towns with teetering temples and dilapidated homes, almost like a cartoon, or satire.For Dangol, art is a three-point collaboration between an artist, the object and the viewers who exist in the space between the abstract and the real. The experience is incomplete even when only one of the three is missing. The drawings feel at once familiar and foreign — the sprawling urbanscape is part of our daily lives, but they have also acquired an almost metaphysical aspect.A giant vajra, for example, looks as though wrapped in a shawl of windows and roofs — and Dangol invites the viewers to fill in the gaps, recognise and rediscover their own stories.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d134e9c7e80680e0a9917jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240">Sujan Dangol grew up in Mahabouddha near the Kathmandu Darbar Square when the historical towns of this emerald valley were still located along ridges with the slopes down to the rivers below devoted to agriculture.“I still remember the sights, sounds and smells of eating rice on the balcony during the minpachas holiday in winter,” adds Dangol, lamenting that today none of the things he used to enjoy as a child are accessible or possible.The concrete canopy of houses block out the sun, there are no public open spaces for children to run around in, there is the ever-present din of the city’s perpetual motion machine.These feelings of loss and nostalgia permeate all of Dangol’s exhibits. The artworks are rigorous and complex: each cityscape is meticulously drawn in pen and ink, filled with stark emotional and intellectual intensity. He recreates history and architecture in a visual language that is uniquely his, built on the bedrock of his own memories and infused with elements of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra/">folklore</a>.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13529c7e80680e0a9918jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1475" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Big Bell is a rendition of the one that stands in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/good-as-old-after-two-earthquakes/">Patan Darbar Square</a>, but its base is crammed with little houses and temples. Dark hills stretch behind, and at the feet of the monument are slabs that look like funeral ghat with black blobs spread about them.It is an ominous piece, foreboding. The sun casts a shadow behind itself and, on closer look, the roofs are bare and have holes in them with wooden beams poking out. The bell itself looks weary, the roof above it is worn out, and it is almost like a deep sigh escapes this 38x48 inch-frame with an overwhelming sense of loss.The other drawings evoke similar pathos. Carved Malla-era windows stand next to neoclassical doors, and somewhere in the middle are tall, flat and bare walls. But between them the galli is quiet and temple eaves have come undone. The ever-watchful eyes on the stupas look aged and tired, perhaps by the desolation they have witnessed.With the touch of pen and ink, Dangol reinvents a visual vernacular of memory and loss. But Dangol does not want the messaging to be too direct or blatant. He says: “I am not a heavily conceptual artist … if I start a piece with too much intention, it disrupts my workflow.”https://youtu.be/eF4hwcbBhsAProud of his Newa heritage, Dangol aspires to develop a new grammar for Nepali contemporary art that builds on the culture and skills that he grew up around and the relics of which are still present. There is no western influence here: the styles are borrowed from gardeners, woodcarvers, tailors, masons and brick-layers, and also the struts, carved windows and exteriors of abandoned buildings.“The cross-hatching in my drawings are inspired by my wife’s straw mats,” says Dangol. Miniature installations featuring straw mats and seeds by his wife, Sharmila Shrestha are also on exhibit in Tales of a City.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13559c7e80680e0a9919jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3360" height="2240">Sujan Dangol traces the origin of this series to 2012, when as his graduation installation he built a city of 1,500 cardboard boxes and cartons of various brand names in the Nepal Art Council. The installation was complete with streets and roads that people could walk through and interact with. Architecture and heritage have since heavily influenced his art and outlook.“It takes over 500 or 1,000 years to build and develop an urban civilisation, and nurture its language, heritage, culture and <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/exploring-nepals-culinary-diversity/">cuisine</a>,” says Dangol. “But when I look at Kathmandu today, I am saddened by the changes in the last 20-30 years, and especially following the 2015 <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/lessons-not-learned-from-2015/">earthquake</a>. This is not normal. Development and progress should be gradual, not disorganised.”Houses, says Dangol, are not just places of residence. The traditional brick, timber and tiles of the buildings with their carved wooden columns, windows and doors represent an <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303">invaluable legacy and expression</a> of craft, history, experience and expectations that span generations.“Individual houses are just as important as temples,” he says. And a street of houses has a collective ambience, so <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/deconstructing-reconstruction/">heritage conservation</a> must look beyond just monuments to these ordinary neighbourhoods and their old dwellings that are being torn down to be replaced with concrete.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d13599c7e80680e0a991ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The bahal, falcha and hiti are being overrun with selfishness and greed, the accelerated consumerism and obsession with money do not value the history and heritage of Swoinga, Kathmandu Valley.Being passionate about literature, art and architecture, Dangol says depicting these changes in his drawings is an outlet for his aggravation with the accelerated and irreversible change happening all around.One particularly gloomy drawing is Kalki that depicts the deity, one of the ten avatar of Vishnu, with fiery hair and wings, riding a leaping horse above a city as contrails swirl behind him. Kalki looks straight at the viewer with a deeply unsettling expression on his face — the rage in his eyes is shared by his horse which has a chain of skulls looping around his neck.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022111016114/636d135e9c7e80680e0a991bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="849" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kalki is associated with destruction, and is the prophesied incarnation of Vishnu at the end of the current Kali Yug cycle of existence in Hindu cosmology. The destruction is followed by Satya Yug, when the chaos and darkness end.This is an important metaphor in Dangol’s drawing: destruction looming over a city, heritage on the verge of extinction. But, at the same time, Kalki is also the harbinger of cleansing and renewal.The exhibition ‘Tale of a City’ is open until 29 November at Siddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal Revisted, Kathmandu.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18013#.YZDNdlVByJA">Whose heritage is it anyway?</a>, Marit Bakke<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/a-time-to-every-purpose-occupation,3023">A time to every purpose</a>, Sahina Shrestha<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/restoring-a-piece-of-nepals-history/">Restoring a piece of Nepal's history</a>, Sahina Shrestha

art