Seated in her classroom, 82-year-old Til Kumari Ranabhat recollects the one-room building perched on a distant hill she grew up looking at everyday as a child in remote Tanahun. “It used to be a school,” she says, “But growing up in a large, impoverished family of 12, we never had the opportunity to attend it.”

Nyayako Awasan, the autobiography of Ganga Maya Adhikari, mother of late Krishna Prasad Adhikari who was murdered by Maoist rebels in 2004, was released amid a function held in the Capital on Friday.

This year’s Buddhi-Resham Memorial Artists’ Felicitation has been awarded to three senior writers from Nepal. In a programme organised by the Jalarika Literary Foundation, on Monday, writers Krishna Bhakta Shrestha, Anita Tuladhar, and Ashesh Malla were conferred the awards in genres poetry, story, and theatre, respectively.

A weeklong event to empower caregivers of children with cerebral palsy and other neurological disorders started in Kathmandu on Tuesday.

At sundown each evening, the New Baneshwor junction transforms into a melee of people desperate to get home.

A solo exhibition titled Story of Mithila Painting was inaugurated on Friday at the Sarwanam Theatre, in the Capital.

Built by Kaji Abhiman Singh Basnyat in 1777 AD, the Paltan Ghar in Balkumari, Asan, is a house that distinctly stands out but also melts into its surroundings at the same time. Its imposing white facade and its vaulted windows are caked with thick layers of dust; and cable wires and election posters dangle hither-thither. Here, brass pots and butter lamps spill out into the street from their tiny, box stores and thousands of people walk by each day without noticing a traditional Ayurvedic store that dates back to the early sixteenth century.

Our government will take the issues regarding environment with greatest emphasis ever.’ I heard a prominent left alliance leader saying when I attended a BBC world service debate.

Every Saturday morning, volunteers equipped with gloves, masks, and knee-high gum boots can be seen wading in the murky waters of the Bagmati, fishing out solid waste by the tonne.

Recently, a boy of my age—who also happened to be a relative I was not aware of—committed suicide by jumping off a bridge.

51-year-old Ram Bahadur Thapa, a porter by trade, had become anxious in the last few years because of a rapid decline in work opportunities in the Capital.

My understanding of Yoga was limited to stretching of limbs and breathing exercises, thanks to the images that appear on print and broadcast media. Recently, when I dived deeper, I learnt that there was so much about it that I still needed to learn.

The return from the Machhapuchhre village felt like a movie. The weather was horrible, it was raining. Everybody was down with viral fever.

Wednesday. 2 pm. An elderly bull, living in the stray cattle shelter near the Pashupatinath Temple, is dying.

People who pass by the Patra Manjusha, the iconic red-coloured letter boxes of Kathmandu, might consider it to be an artefact waiting to be taken to a museum.