Throughout my filmmaking journey in Nepal, I have faced one challenge more suffocating than budgetary or logistical constraints: censorship. The irony is that the very thing I value most in cinema—realism—is precisely what makes authorities uncomfortable. Those in power fear filmmakers who tell the truth.

Governments, institutions, and even the Nepal Police feel uneasy when a film reflects reality because it exposes parts of society they do not want the public to question.

My two-year battle over ‘Gaja Baja’

This conflict became most visible in 2016, when my film ‘Gaja Baja’ was banned before it even reached the audience. The Film Development Board refused to register the title, claiming the word ‘gaja’ (marijuana) might “promote drug use”. But I knew the truth: the film’s political satire and realistic storytelling unsettled them.

I had to take the matter to the Supreme Court. For almost two years, the film remained trapped in bureaucratic limbo. And even after its eventual approval in March 2018, the Board demanded muted dialogues, censored slang, and an adult certificate—as if silencing everyday Nepali speech could somehow protect society.

Threats and creative interference

Censorship did not end there. My subsequent films received similar treatment—this time accompanied by direct warnings. Officials told me that if I spoke to the media, they would impose harsher bans. They even tried to dictate creative choices, insisting a kissing scene must not exceed five seconds.

Scenes based on everyday reality—a boy being beaten in a village in ‘Manjari’, realistic slang in ‘Gaja Baja’, a brief moment of affection in ‘Julebi’—were all targeted. Once, the Board even asked me to obscure a wall with political graffiti that is openly visible in the city. Reality itself has been labelled “unacceptable”.

The double standard that hurts filmmaking

What frustrates me most is the hypocrisy. Authorities act as though films might corrupt society, but the real world already confronts us with far harsher truths. Even if I chose to make an erotic or violent film, that does not mean audiences would suddenly become immoral or aggressive. People already live in a society full of sexuality, conflict, and violence.

Movies like ‘Animal’ or ‘Pushpa’, filled with extreme violence, are screened freely in Nepali theatres. And beyond cinema, our nation has witnessed violence far worse than anything on screen—from civil conflicts to the recent Gen-Z protest, which unfolded brutally in real life.

Yet my grounded, realistic films are the ones repeatedly censored. This double standard shows that censorship is not about “protecting society”; it is about controlling which stories artists are allowed to tell.

Young audiences are ready for change

Despite these challenges, I see hope in the younger generation. Young audiences in Nepal are increasingly aware due to access to world cinema. They are more liberal, and open to politically and socially challenging films.

Unfortunately, some filmmakers remain influenced by Bollywood, prioritising stardom and commercial formulas, which limits the space for meaningful dissent and politically engaged storytelling. However, the youth—as viewers and future creators—are shaping the trajectory of Nepali cinema.

Censorship is not limited to films

The challenges we face as filmmakers reflect a broader national issue. Just as films are censored, the government has shown increasing control over public expression. In September 2025, authorities ordered the blocking of 26 major social media platforms—including Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and X—even attempting to regulate YouTube itself.

These actions reveal a growing desire to limit creative and public freedoms. I openly criticised these measures, and I hope the upcoming elections empower the youth to uphold freedom of expression so that we can experience genuine democracy, not merely a controlled version of it.

We are not alone in this fight

I am not the only filmmaker who has confronted these barriers. Many Nepali filmmakers have suffered similar injustices long before me. Manoj Pandit’s ‘Badhshala’ (2013) faced severe censorship, despite its portrayal of real issues of conflict and the state’s documented history. Filmmaker Kumar Bhattrai was censored before he began filming ‘Dashdhunga 2’, with the project blocked at the conceptual stage.

Similarly, ‘Pooja Sir (Rajagunj)’ by Deepak Rauniyar faced censorship. I, along with filmmakers Daya Hang Rai, Deepak Raj Giri, Nischal Basnet, Manoj Pandit, Binod Poudel, and many others, publicly criticised the Censor Board and protested against its arbitrary decisions. Every filmmaker encounters some form of obstruction—the difference is whether we choose to fight for our creative freedom or quietly accept the restrictions placed upon us.

Politically appointed individuals populate institutions such as the Censor Board and the Film Development Board. Their decisions reflect political influence rather than artistic understanding. They do not respect the labour, honesty, or creativity that goes into filmmaking. Instead of nurturing Nepali cinema, they restrict it.

Ultimately, all I ask is that the government uphold the Constitution—the very document that guarantees every Nepali citizen the right to freedom of expression. Our society openly displays realities far more brutal and wild than anything I have portrayed on screen. Yet my films are policed, muted, and cut under the pretext of morality.

I believe that with a new government after the elections, the youth will step forward, understand filmmakers’ intentions, and respect freedom of speech—a cornerstone of any true democracy. And no matter how difficult the circumstances become, international film festivals and the judicial system will continue to protect filmmakers, ensuring that politically conscious and independent stories survive and reach audiences.

I want no censorship in my craft. As an artist, I deserve the freedom to portray life honestly. The people of Nepal deserve the right to access stories without political interference. Unless our institutions respect artistic freedom, neither Nepali cinema nor our democracy can grow to its full potential.