Nepal is home to an estimated 180,000 manuscripts. Only around a quarter of these manuscripts are housed in public institutions such as the National Archives. The rest remain with local custodians who have safeguarded them for generations. They include religious and philosophical texts, narrative and devotional literature, ritual manuals and bhajan manuscripts that continue to shape living Newa traditions.

“I have about two centuries-old manuscripts which are passed down through generations,” says Hem Ratna Bajracharya, a custodian from Lalitpur. “Now we have to keep them safe.”

Preservation is no simple task. Paper weakens over time, ink fades, and the Valley is prone to earthquakes and monsoon moisture. Even natural predators, like insects, pose a threat. Bajracharya describes an ancient technique: “When you write a manuscript, you have to put a chemical in it. It is written on yellow substance smeared paper. This yellow substance is none other than a poisonous agent called ‘Harital’. It was intended to protect the handwritten book from insects. It has been done for generations to protect the manuscript.”

The urgency to preserve these manuscripts lies at the heart of Archive Nepal’s initiative. Its current initiative, titled ‘Preserving and ensuring the accessibility of 200 to 800-year-old Newari manuscripts for future generations’, focuses on protecting rare manuscripts in close collaboration with local custodians.

“These texts were written with the hope that they would endure,” says Monish Singh, founder and executive director of Archive Nepal. “If we fail to preserve them now, we are breaking that chain of transmission.”

The manuscripts being digitised are written primarily in endangered scripts such as Ranjana, Bhujimol and Prachalit. Although Nepalbhasa remains a living language, its historical scripts are increasingly difficult to read. Letter forms have shifted over centuries. Orthography varies. In some cases, Sanskrit is interwoven with Nepalbhasa, making interpretation even more complex.

For many younger Newa readers, the scripts are visually familiar yet technically inaccessible. The project sources manuscripts from selected private collections. Custodians retain ownership. The original texts usually remain in their care.

Bajracharya shares the careful balance of preserving and sharing sacred texts: “Religious manuscripts are sacred and sensitive. Some tantras are so powerful that, if read by the wrong person, they can be misused. Those remain private. Sutras, however, can be made public.”

Archive Nepal’s approach respects this sensitivity. Teams visit custodians’ homes, photograph manuscripts at high resolution in accordance with international standards, and create structured multilingual metadata. “We digitise manuscripts at their location rather than bringing manuscripts to our office. They are often fragile, and custodians worry if pages go missing or are damaged if they are taken for digitisation works,” says Singh.

The imaging process prioritises clarity and preservation. Master files are stored securely. Access copies are generated for research and public viewing. Titles, dates, scripts, subjects, provenance and custodial information are documented in multiple languages to ensure discoverability across audiences.

Digitisation, however, is only the first step.

A scanned page cannot be searched, studied or translated unless it is transcribed. For that reason, the initiative includes systematic transcription and translation into Nepali and English. Selected materials are made accessible through digital platforms, including Wikisource, reflecting a strong commitment to open knowledge.

Volunteers play a central role in this process, particularly young participants who are learning to read historical scripts.

Rimishna Manandhar, one of the volunteers who has transcribed six manuscripts so far, joined the project believing she had a solid grasp of Ranjana. The manuscripts challenged that confidence.

“The script was familiar, but the handwriting and spelling were very different,” she says. “Sometimes a single letter could change the meaning of a line. You have to slow down. You cannot assume.”

Optical character recognition software helps identify portions of text. Depending on the condition and clarity of the manuscript, the software may accurately capture 30 to 50 percent of a page. The remaining text requires manual correction. Volunteers compare digital images with machine-generated text and correct errors line by line.

Likewise, translation into Nepali and English demands care. Religious and philosophical terminology carries layered meanings. Narrative and devotional passages contain rhythm and cultural nuance. Translators consult with language experts and project advisors to ensure accuracy without flattening context.

For Manandhar, the work has reshaped her understanding of heritage.

“You realise the treasure of knowledge tucked away in these manuscripts,” she says. “It is not an abstract history. It is philosophy, ethics, and ritual practice. It reflects how people understood the world.”

So far, Archive Nepal has digitised approximately 60 manuscripts, producing more than 5,300 high-resolution pages. Around 1,200 pages have been transcribed. Thirty-six volunteers are currently engaged in different stages of the workflow.

The initiative has received support from the Wikimedia Foundation’s Knowledge Equity Fund. It is also entering a new phase in collaboration with UNESCO under the Memory of the World framework, which seeks to safeguard documentary heritage at risk.

UNESCO Kathmandu opines, “Digitising Newa manuscripts protects the manuscripts, but it is language technologies that help the scripts continue to speak—keeping the language alive for future generations to read, learn from, and obtain inspiration.”

The emphasis on community participation is deliberate. By involving youth volunteers in transcription and translation, the project attempts to bridge generational gaps in script literacy. Preservation, in this sense, is not limited to storing digital files. It includes reviving the ability to read and interpret historical scripts.

Singh argues that accessibility is as important as preservation. “If we only digitise and store the images, the knowledge remains locked,” he says. “Translation into Nepali and English opens the texts to researchers, students and the wider public.”

The manuscripts span a wide range of genres. Some are philosophical treatises rooted in Buddhist or Hindu traditions. Others are narrative works, devotional compositions or ritual guides used during festivals and ceremonies. Many continue to inform contemporary religious life, particularly within Newa communities.

At the same time, the material fragility of these texts cannot be ignored. Handmade paper, although durable, is susceptible to humidity and insects. Palm leaf manuscripts are especially vulnerable to cracking. In a country that experiences recurrent earthquakes, the physical survival of these documents is uncertain.

The urgency of digitisation became painfully clear in the Gen Z movement, when government offices were set on fire during protests, and countless official documents were reduced to ash. Had those documents been digitised and securely stored, their contents would have survived.

For many working in heritage preservation, that was a warning. Manuscripts tucked inside homes and monasteries may feel safe today, but history has shown how quickly paper can vanish. Fire, flood, unrest, or simple neglect can erase what took centuries to preserve.

That is why, Singh explains, digitising documents and manuscripts cannot remain an occasional project driven by a handful of organisations. It needs to become a common practice. Not to replace the original, but to ensure that knowledge outlives uncertainty.

The effort led by Archive Nepal seeks to address both dimensions. It preserves through high-resolution digitisation aligned with international standards. It improves access through multilingual metadata, transcription and translation. It invites community participation, particularly among youth, to ensure that reading and interpretation skills are not lost.

Manandhar explains, “As more pages are digitised and transcribed, the gap between past and present narrows. What was once confined to a shelf in a private home can now be read by a student, a researcher or a community member anywhere in the world.”