New Delhi seems to have reluctantly accepted that it needs to normalise relations with China to navigate the uncertainties of a world left behind by a receding Pax Americana.

Whatever social cohesion existed in Tarai-Madhesh, especially after the brutal suppression of the Madhesh Uprising in 2015, has begun to fragment further with the sudden and inexplicable spread of Hindutva politics.

Sometimes, the sight of a lamp challenging the storm, fully aware that it will be extinguished, is morally uplifting.

Contrary to the naive expectations of critics, regime stability is not in danger—for now. RSP’s two strongmen need only rein in their minions who churn out a daily controversy to dominate the news cycle.

Perhaps the lure of a directly elected chief executive in Nepal comes from a strange mix of monarchical nostalgia and modernist impatience.

The WIC has no flag, no monarch, no charter, no headquarters and no single board of directors. Yet its reach is unmistakable.

The opinionator with a ‘kalam’ in hand and column in the newspaper no longer commands the loyalty of the audience. But this doesn’t mean that column-writing has lost its civic value.

Digital culture worships immediacy, creating fertile ground for demagogues.

History shows that highly competitive exams and credentialed officials do not necessarily prevent institutions from becoming persistently underperforming sclerotic husks.

The state is delusional if it believes it can kill journalism and establish a monopoly over truth.

The media landscape has become a digital colosseum where trolls drown out nuanced critique.

Victors who drowned the ship of Oli-garchy vow to take an aeroplane to the sky without checking its engines.

Delivery will test whether the rabble-rousers can remain relevant amid mounting challenges.

Across much of South Asia, voters do not merely elect representatives; they seek protectors.

Nepal’s tragedy has often been that stories outpace structures, and symbols substitute for systems.