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Parents try to do what’s best for their children. And every parent has a different parenting style. There is no right and wrong. But so many times we teach children things so that they are socially accepted and considered ‘nice’ people. We don’t teach them enough about standing up for themselves and being true to who they are, even at the risk of offending others. 

I was always taught to be nice, to put others before me. Over time, I realized it made me subservient and people were always getting away with whatever they wanted to do. I said yes when I wanted to say no. I went along with plans I hadn’t been told about till the last minute. I found myself constantly putting my needs and wants aside in order to make others happy. 

I also did it because my father wouldn’t have it otherwise. I don’t remember a time when I had a problem with someone and he took my side. He’d always say that maybe I hadn’t been nice enough or had done something to upset the other person. He wasn’t a bad father. He was only trying to teach me to be a good person. But in doing that, he made me unsure of myself and I felt like I didn’t have a support system, that my father never had my back. It was an extremely lonely feeling, especially when I saw other children’s parents defending them even when they were clearly in the wrong. 

Now that I’m a mother, there are a few basic things I want my son to know so that he doesn’t feel the way I did while growing up, so that he knows his parents have his back at all times, irrespective of what he does or doesn’t do. 

My love is unconditional 

My dad was strict, often withholding love as a form of punishment when I was ‘bad’ or didn’t listen to him. I’m not saying it was wrong. I know he was only doing what he thought was best for me and my growth. But your childhood is only as good as how you perceive it to be, and I believe I lived in constant fear of my father. It makes me weary of his love now because love, when I needed it the most, came in bite-sized pieces, to be doled out only when it was ‘deserved’. 

I want my son to know that my love for him isn’t dependent on his behavior. He could be throwing tantrums and I’d love him all the same, because he is my son and it’s my responsibility as a parent to be there for him in both his good and bad moments. He might be ‘disciplined’ in various ways but I will not be so upset and angry for him to question my love and his worth. I know how it feels when a parent makes you believe you have to earn his love. In little ways, over time, it shatters your heart so much that you become skeptical of any kind of love and question its motive. And I will not let that happen to my son. He needs to be able to feel and give love freely and happily, without judgement and fear. 

It’s okay to fail

As a society we put so much pressure on success, and it starts from school. You are constantly compared to your peers and told to be as good as or better than them. I have always found this so unnecessary and hurtful. Shouldn’t everyone be their own competition and just strive to do good instead of shouldering the burden of always trying to be like someone else or outdo them?  Being overly competitive makes us unable to enjoy the little things in life and perhaps a little jealous of our friends and those who we think are better than us. 

I want my son to know that it’s okay to fail and that he will not be good at everything and that’s perfectly normal. He needs to be able to celebrate a friend’s win without feeling like a failure. Not everything is meant for everybody and there will be things he will be good at and some that he won’t be able to make any sense of. Failing at something isn’t a measure of your worth and knowing that makes you confident and willing to try anything. I want my son to know that it’s far more important to give things he is interested in a chance rather than pull out because he thinks he might not be good at it. Sometimes, you suck, other times, you soar. 

Niceness is overrated

I won’t say it was a bad lesson but I was always told to be nice to people, even when they weren’t necessarily deserving of it. Though it’s not wrong to be nice, I have realized that it often puts you at a disadvantage, with people taking you for granted. They write you off as someone whose opinion doesn’t need to be considered because you will go along with whatever they decide. Over time, it also makes you unable to voice your desires. 

Niceness isn’t to be confused with kindness. The former stems out of a need to fit in. It’s an accepted form of social behavior, one that probably wins you brownie points in your circle. Kindness, on the other hand, is a result of empathy and compassion. Kindness doesn’t have to be forced whereas niceness is almost always an act. 

I would like my son to be a kind person, and not necessarily a nice person. I want him to know that he doesn’t need to do things he doesn’t want to, and that he can say no when he’s had enough. He doesn’t need to worry about hurting someone’s feelings at the risk of hurting his own. Sometimes, it’s okay to be a little blunt especially when people are insistent and trying to get him to agree with them even when he doesn’t. I want my son to know that being nice is a choice, not a compulsion, and that there are far better measures of character than being called a ‘nice person’.

Sensorineural hearing loss (SNHL) is the most common type of permanent hearing loss and occurs when the inner ear, known as the cochlea, is damaged. It may be present at birth or develop later in life. SNHL may occur suddenly due to illness, head injury, or exposure to loud noise such as explosions, fireworks, industrial machinery, or prolonged headphone use. It can also develop gradually as a part of the normal aging process. 

SNHL, particularly age-related hearing loss, is one of the most common hearing conditions affecting adults and typically develops between the ages of 50 and 70. People with SNHL often struggle to hear soft sounds, and even louder noises may seem muffled or unclear. Everyday situations such as conversations in restaurants, crowded places, or group settings can become especially challenging. Many people feel that others are mumbling or not speaking clearly, and many experience ringing, buzzing, or humming sounds in their ears.

The underlying cause of SNHL is damage to hair cells in the inner ear. These hair cells play a critical role in converting sound waves into electrical signals that the brain interprets as sound. Unfortunately, once damaged, these hair cells cannot repair or regenerate, making SNHL a permanent condition in most cases. A key feature of SNHL is that it affects high-pitched sounds first. While low-pitched vowel sounds remain audible and carry speech volume, high-pitched consonants, which gives speech clarity, are harder to hear. As a result, people may hear that someone is talking but struggle to understand the words, especially in group conversations.

In Nepal, hearing loss is relatively common and increases with age, similar to global patterns. Ear diseases and long-standing health conditions that contribute to hearing loss are frequently seen in clinical and community settings. However, detailed nationwide data specifically focused on SNHL, such as how many people are affected, at what ages, and how severe it is remain limited. Most existing information comes from general hearing loss estimates, studies focused on children, or small clinical samples. Although research efforts are ongoing, nationwide screening programs, including newborn hearing tests, and national hearing loss registries are not yet widely implemented in Nepal.

Although SNHL usually cannot be cured, it can be managed effectively. Hearing aids may help many people hear sounds more clearly, while cochlear implants may benefit those with severe hearing loss. When hearing loss happens suddenly, early medical treatment, often with medications, can sometimes restore part of the hearing. Preventing further damage by protecting the ears from loud noise is extremely important. While SNHL can be permanent, it does not mean the end of communication or a good quality of life. With early diagnosis, proper treatment, and timely care, many individuals can greatly improve their hearing, communication, and overall well-being.

Far-Western Nepal tells a story the world has yet to fully discover. Far from crowded highways and rushed tourists, this region holds a quiet power, one that doesn’t boast or demand attention, yet leaves a deep impression on every traveler who visits. Here, the mountains stand in serene silence, rivers flow freely, and life moves not by the clock, but by the rhythm of nature. In an age of over-promoted and hurried tourism, Far-Western Nepal reminds us of the true meaning of “untouched beauty.”

A journey to this land is more than a change of location; it is a shift in perspective and experience. Winding forest trails, valleys opening into sweeping vistas, and villages that seem to speak to the sky invite travelers to pause, listen, and feel. Destinations like Khaptad, Badimalika, Api–Nampa, and Saipal are not merely places to check off a list, they are experiences that reveal themselves only when time is given to truly absorb them. Endless meadows, drifting clouds, and the comforting silence of this land make it extraordinary.

The rivers of Far-Western Nepal carry its soul. The Mahakali River, flowing gracefully along the western border, tells tales of faith, trade, and generations of life. The mighty Karnali, symbolizing freedom and courage, holds the potential to become a premier rafting destination in South Asia if developed responsibly. The Seti River nourishes farms, families, and traditions, and at sunset along its banks, one cannot help but feel prayer, reflection, and a sense of belonging.

Wildlife and conservation are equally significant here. With careful planning, Far-Western Nepal can become a complete eco-tourism circuit, following the successful models of Suklaphanta, Bardiya, and Chitwan National Parks. Rolling grasslands alive with herds of swamp deer, and the breathtaking views from watchtowers, offer visitors a glimpse of nature’s true grandeur. Such natural and cultural richness not only encourages longer stays but also contributes to balanced regional development.

Yet, what truly makes Far-western Nepal remarkable is not just its landscape, it’s the people. Hospitality here is not taught; it runs through generations. Guests are welcomed with warmth and sincerity, before any formalities or questions. Local cuisine, made from homegrown ingredients, is not just food it is an expression of love, respect, and cultural pride. There are no forced smiles, no rush, only genuine care, selfless warmth, and quiet trust. This honesty transforms visitors into family who keep returning.

For a long time, Far-Western Nepal remained outside the main tourism narrative. Distance, lack of infrastructure, and limited promotion kept it in the shadows but this isolation preserved its authenticity. Protected from mass tourism, its culture, spirituality, and nature remain alive. Today, when travelers seek meaning over luxury, Far-Western Nepal offers rare possibilities.

Small lodges, homestays, and rural resorts are emerging, alongside national and international hotel chains. These establishments must prioritize nature, modern comforts, and local products. Responsible tourism can boost local economies, instill pride in communities, and create employment opportunities for youth, keeping them close to home as guides, hosts, and managers. In this way, tourism becomes a tool for empowerment and sustainable development.

The region’s spiritual and religious potential is immense. Sacred sites like Khaptad, Badimalika, Dotikot, Ugratara, Saileshori, Betkot Dham, Godawari, and Baheda Baba can be connected through pilgrimage routes, turning tourism into a journey of the soul. Education is key to this transformation. Hospitality and management colleges in Far-Western Nepal can integrate local tourism, culture, and sustainability into their curriculum. Field visits and hands-on experiences in local destinations allow students not only to learn but to build a deep connection with their land, culture, and responsibilities. This cultivates future partners in tourism development who understand its true value.

Hotels and hospitality businesses must do more than sell rooms and food—they must convey the story of this sacred land. Visitors should experience its history, culture, and spiritual energy, not just physical amenities. Tourism becomes meaningful and lasting only when it touches the heart, leaving guests with memories that connect them to the land forever.
Development is necessary but it must be wise. Roads, healthcare, education, training, and security are essential foundations. Unplanned construction and careless tourism can erase the soul of Far-Western Nepal. This region does not need to imitate others; it can attract the world by being itself. Today’s travelers seek stories, not flashy views. In Far-Western Nepal, answers are found not in words, but in experience. With vision, sensitivity, and respect, this region can rise not just in development, but with dignity.

Far-Western Nepal waits patiently, confidently. It does not promise luxury or shout for attention. It offers honesty, spirituality, open skies, and untouched beauty. It invites the world not just to visit, but to feel, reflect, and remember.
Tourism in Far-Western Nepal is not only the responsibility of the private sector. Local governments must play a central role in planning, guiding, and creating policies that protect the heartbeat and potential of this region. By ensuring roads, healthcare, education, safety, and infrastructure, both tourists and local communities can thrive. Active oversight and promotion of historical, cultural, and natural heritage are crucial. Programs that empower local communities, provide training, and promote responsible tourism form the foundation of sustainable development.

With vision, sensitivity, and long-term thinking, local governments can ensure that Far-Western Nepal’s tourism develops not just economically, but in a way that honors its soul, culture, and natural beauty.

Nepal’s tourism sector has long relied on only a handful of popular trekking destinations. However, the need of the hour is to identify and explore new places with tourism potential. If we make the effort, we can find countless unexplored destinations across the country that can offer travelers even more diverse experiences. Recently, we explored one such place, a destination that very few people have heard about.

In the northeastern part of Lamjung district, in Gandaki Province, lies a magnificent destination offering breathtaking views of more than a dozen mountains, including Mt Machhapuchhre, Mt Dhaulagiri, Mt Ngadi Peak, and Mt Boudha. This place is home to more than seven lakes, each with its own name and unique stories, making it distinct from other popular tourist spots. This is the Mhe Mhe Pokhari Cultural Trail Trek.

We—a team of 32 trekkers from “Happy Hikers” and “The Walkers,” along with 35 porters, kitchen staff, and guides—officially inaugurated the historic Mhe Mhe Pokhari trail in Dordi Rural Municipality-7 of Lamjung district. Upon reaching Hilebesi, approximately 180 km from Kathmandu, around 100 villagers welcomed us with garlands and tika.

After the warm and grand welcome at Hilebesi, we traveled by bus to Upper Khinchowk, about an hour’s drive away. There, another group had been eagerly waiting for nearly three hours to greet us with lively cultural dances and music performances. Although we wished to stay longer and enjoy the program, fatigue caught up with us. After a hearty dinner, we retired to our homestays.

The next morning, after enjoying sel roti along with curry and tea for breakfast, we gathered at a designated spot to begin the trek. The air was filled with warmth and smiles as the mothers’ group bid us farewell, applying tika and showering us with blessings.

Soon after leaving the village and entering the jungle, the steep ascent, and the terror of leeches, began. However, the higher we climbed, the better the views became. On the first day, we trekked for about six hours, ascending from 1,200 m to 2,570 m. We set up our tents at Pauli Danda, where we also found a small shed. It was here that we caught our first glimpse of the majestic Mt Boudha and Mt Himalchuli.

By the time we reached our first stop, the sun was setting toward the horizon, casting a golden glow across the mountains. The moment was unforgettable, although clouds had already covered some of the surrounding ranges.

The next morning, we witnessed a captivating sunrise from Pauli Danda. The eastern sky glowed in deep shades of red and orange, and from the ridge we could see more than eighteen majestic peaks, Mt Manaslu and Mt Himalchuli to the north, and Mt Machhapuchhre and the Annapurna range to the west. After breakfast, we set off for our next destination, picking jungle fruits like chutro (berberis) and raspberries along the way.

The trail was so tranquil and enthralling that we were completely absorbed in its beauty, hardly noticing when we reached Khole Pokhari, an open ground rather than a pond. According to our guide, there used to be a beautiful pond here. However, it was believed that whenever two people went near it, only one would return. In other words, the pond was thought to claim a life. In anger and fear, villagers eventually cut down part of the hill and drained the pond.

Later, it was believed that the spirit had settled at Barah Pokhari, just below the hill, prompting villagers to build a temple there. Listening to these stories, we reached Thodi Danda, our third-day station. We set up our tents while watching an astonishing sunset. As night deepened, the temperature dropped, and because our tents were pitched on a slope, we struggled to sleep comfortably.

On the fourth day, barely ten minutes after starting our walk from Thodi Danda following breakfast, we reached a stunning spot surrounded by rhododendron trees and a wide green meadow. From there, the Manaslu Himalayan range stood directly before us, with Mt Annapurna visible to our left.

We spent some time taking photos and videos. As it was our acclimatization day, we walked only a short distance and spent the night at Komro Danda. Situated at an altitude of 4,000 m, Komro Danda was truly a wonderful place. The view of the mountains and the sunset from there remains vivid in my memory.

Despite its beauty and tranquility, the area suffers from a lack of water. Heartfelt thanks go to the porters, who walked nearly an hour to fetch water and cook for us. Recently, the local authority constructed a dharmashala there, providing a proper resting place for travelers. Once the water problem is resolved, the journey will become much easier. We spent the night at the dharmashala.

The next day, having been informed that the trail ahead would be long and challenging, we began walking soon after breakfast without delay. We had now entered the alpine zone. The trail grew narrow and demanding, but the stunning views of Boudha Himal made the journey feel vibrant and rewarding.

As there was no open ground to pitch tents, we had to walk directly from Komro Danda to Mhe Mhe Pokhari Base Camp to spend the night. We had noodles for lunch that day. The trail after lunch proved to be the most challenging and adventurous part of our journey. The weather was cold, and thick fog blanketed the surroundings. The path was rocky, narrow, and difficult, forcing us to walk while taking support from the rocky walls.

Each time we reached the top of a hill, another appeared right in front of us. After much hardship, we finally crossed two hills—Tare Deurali (4,350 m) and Chabi Danda (4,380 m)—and reached Mhe Mhe Pokhari Base Camp.

A dharmashala had been built there, so half of our group took shelter inside while the rest stayed in tents. On the sixth day, after walking for about twenty minutes, we were rewarded with the serene Mhe Mhe Pokhari Lake. According to a local guide, the lake got its name when a person, seeing its vastness for the first time, was so shocked and dizzy that the words “Mhe Mhe” escaped his mouth. In the Gurung language, Mhe Mhe is an expression used when one feels dizzy.

It is believed that those who make a wish upon reaching the lake will have it fulfilled. A few minutes of uphill walking led us to several other stunning lakes, including Narsingh Lake, Talwar Lake, Dhalkyu Lake, and the mother of all lakes: Dudh Pokhari. Each lake appeared in a different color, some green and others blue.

Some members of our group even scaled Mhe Mhe Peak (5,049 m), also known as Mhe Mahe Pass, with the help of a guide. Those who did not attempt the peak spent their time around the lakes, quietly soaking in the beauty and capturing photos and videos.

On the seventh day, after packing our lunch, we descended straight to Thodi Danda and spent the night there. The eighth day involved a long descent to Duwar via Barah Pokhari. As we reached the village, we found the villagers eagerly waiting to welcome us.

Witnessing the welcome ceremony reminded us that the cultural saying “Atithi Devo Bhava” (Guests is god) still thrives in Nepal. At the end of the trek, we realized that Nepal continues to hold countless hidden gems, waiting to be explored and shared with the world.