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“I’m aware of my emotions, but how do I manage them?” Individuals I meet in the ‘My Emotions Matter’ workshops often ask this question. While awareness is the first step to emotional management, sometimes it can be tricky and might require more effort. There’s no set prescription for how one manages emotions and keeps one’s reactions in check, but a few strategies can help us. Let’s explore some of those.

Take time out to connect with yourself: We often brush aside our feelings. We find it easier to distract ourselves with chores, work, or browsing our phones endlessly for a dopamine surge. These might seem to be sweet escapes, but they can cost us dear by enabling unhealthy emotional coping mechanisms. Keeping a log of pleasant and unpleasant emotions we experience on a daily basis, journaling, talking to someone close who can help us reflect on what we’re feeling are some helpful ways to connect with yourself and your deeper feelings. 

Find out what helps when you’re emotionally charged: We all go through moments we feel emotionally charged and take action, which we regret in hindsight. It almost always helps to pause before we ‘respond’ rather than ‘react’ to a situation. This pause can help us buy time before we think of the best possible thing to do in that situation. Different people have different ways of dealing with their emotions. For instance, meditating, listening to calming music or a podcast, writing, reading, watching Netflix, moving away from what triggered you in the first place. What works for you?

Understand that emotions arise from expectations and values: More often than not, we say things like, “You make me frustrated!” “You make me happy.” In either case, it’s certain that other people’s actions affect us. What’s vital to understand here is that our emotions arise from our expectations of ourselves or others and what we value in any situation. So, instead of blaming ourselves or others when things don’t go as planned, perhaps we can try fine tuning our actions based on our expectations or values. 

For instance, a friend’s late arrival makes me angry. I should understand that it’s because I value punctuality and expect people to show up on time. Once I know this, I can take actions to fulfill my expectations and values. I might as well even send calendar invitations to my friend from the next time or call them a few hours in advance to ensure they arrive on time. Emotions can be valuable information about values/expectations and can help us take meaningful actions to meet those. 

Practice consequential thinking: Sometimes we fail to manage our emotions as we don’t think about the best and the worst case outcomes prior to making a choice or taking an action. In other words, we lack consequential thinking. Let’s say you prepared and delivered an office presentation on a project you led. At the end of it, a team member asked you many questions, which you struggled to answer. If you’re not aware of the previous aspect that we discussed (that our feelings arise from our expectations), you will blame your colleague for being ‘interfering’ or ‘know-it-all’ (perhaps in your mind, if not out loud). 

But if you’re aware that you feel annoyed because you were expecting to be better prepared or for your colleagues to go easy on you, consequential thinking can help you anticipate what people could ask at the end of the presentation, what might go haywire, and how you can be better prepared. While consequential thinking can’t guarantee that things won’t go wrong, it can help you gain a foresight of what might happen in a given situation. 

These are some of many strategies to manage emotions we experience on a daily basis. Which among these have you tried or want to try? What other strategies have worked for you?

The author is Linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. Learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

Political parties are still poring over their performance in the May 13 local polls. Among the ruling coalition, Nepali Congress, CPN (Maoist Center), NCP (Unified Socialist), and Janata Samajwadi Party (JSP) each has come up with its own evaluation. 

Congress increased its seats from 266 (35 percent) in 2017 to 328 (44 percent) in 2022, while the Maoist Center increased its seats from 106 (14 percent) to 121 (16 percent). United Socialist, a splinter party of the UML, got 20 seats (three percent), JSP went down from 34 seats (five percent) to 30 seats (four percent). The burden of the Nepal Communist Party (NCP) split was mostly felt by UML, the main opposition, as it got just 205 seats (27 percent) compared to 294 (39 percent) earlier. In 2022, JSP, Maoist Center and UML together got 46 percent, two percent more than Congress.

While Congress seems satisfied with the results, Unified Socialist has publicly expressed its bitterness at the poll outcome. Such was also the case with JSP. Poignant reactions by Unified Socialist’s Madhav Kumar Nepal and Jhalanath Khanal and the bitterness expressed by JSP chair Upendra Yadav have been quite noticeable. They accuse grassroots-level cadres of other big coalition partners of not complying with the commands of central leaders and casting votes for their own party-affiliated candidates. Despite faring relatively better, even Maoist Chairman Pushpa Kamal Dahal lambasted NC for not exhorting its grassroots to cast votes as per the understanding among ruling parties. 

 Alliance implies a union or association between two or more parties, for mutual gain, shared interest or common goal. There have been many alliances among Nepali political parties for the attainment of a common objective. The NC-Left front alliance in 1990 together fought the autocratic Panchayat regime and reinstalled the Westminster model of parliamentary democracy. The shared objective was achieved and a multi-party system was restored after three months of national movement. 

Another successful alliance was forged among seven parties in 2006 against the direct rule of the king, with the intent of restoring the dissolved parliament.

In contrast, a coalition refers to collaboration of two or more political parties or groups to constitute the government if no political party has the majority.

Forging a coalition among political parties with the objective of contesting and winning national elections is rather a new concept in Nepal. Except for leaders at the top echelons, party cadres at the grassroots are rarely oriented on this. There have been many ruling coalitions in the past 32 years after the reinstatement of multiparty parliamentary democracy. Altogether 31 governments were formed after 1990, of which 19 were coalition governments, and 12 were single-party governments. Even after the promulgation of a new constitution in 2015, 11 governments were formed, out of which 10 were coalition and one was single party. Except in the case of the incumbent ruling coalition, never before have coalition partners contested elections together. 

Until the formation of the ruling coalition nearly a year ago, the grassroots level cadres of the constituent parties were trained to expand their individual vote banks by hook or by crook and to see as the cadres of other parties as sworn enemies. With the sudden change in the power structure at the center, and the arrival of a coalition, cadres at the grassroots could not now suddenly start seeing their erstwhile enemies as their friends. 

Moreover, the theoretical orientation of Congress workers at the grassroots, and that of its communist coalition partners Maoist Center or Unified Socialist, are diagonally opposite. Issuing diktat to grassroots cadres and voters to cast votes for their former ‘enemies’ was bound to be repulsive for many. There was inadequate orientation for grassroots cadres to cast votes for other parties. 

The grievances on the part of Dahal, Nepal, Khanal and Yadav suggest their anxieties of the political scenario unfolding after provincial and federal polls—what if the voting patterns remain intact? They seem to be concerned with a powerful Congress faction urging against a poll coalition and insisting on contesting elections alone. Such opposition, they consider, could be even more pronounced in the forthcoming provincial and federal polls, with the resultant cutting down of their votes and seats. 

Coalition leaders other than those from Congress are insisting on continuation of local election formulae of seat adjustments in provincial and federal elections. Together, this will probably give them more seats than were won by the UML-Maoist alliance in 2017. But it will also squeeze the Congress. Scores of influential Congress leaders who lost federal and provincial elections in 2017 could be barred from contesting forthcoming elections. The Congress high command may not be able to withstand the pressure of its own leaders this time. It will thus be interesting to watch how the ruling coalition will come up with a new formula of seat adjustments for the upcoming polls.

Bike-packing? Do you mean we ride, spend the night in a tent and cook our supper—no lodge or teahouse? It sounded wild—but exciting. Shishir, my cycling companion, nodded. He proposed a ride to Gupteswor Mahadev, some 30 km away in Dhading.  

I was skeptical, though; I always keep my riding trips light. The tent and stuff meant heavier backpacks—way out of my comfort zone. But I still gave it a ‘yes’. 

It has been 35 years since I last camped out. Guess what! That time, the first thing my wife and I learned in the morning was that we had chosen, of all places, a cemetery ground to pitch our tent. 

Coming to the present, after Ramkot, the dirt track turned due south. As we climbed on, we got a bird’s eye view of the sprawling town. Terraced rice fields next to the burgeoning houses lent a breath of greenery to the township. Dense Nagarjun hills commanded the northern skyline. 

If early post-monsoon riding has its downside in muddy stretches and unlooked-for rains, it’s also the time lush-green landscapes beckon with open arms.   

Around 1pm, we headed up a steep wooded hill to Nursery Bhanjhyang (pass). At the crest, there was a tin shack that served as an eatery. We were not very hopeful about dal-bhat, our favorite; and indeed, we had to settle for egg-veg-noodle soup.   

As Shishir busied himself with the camera, clicking at random, I scrutinized the dense woods around, trying to single out the species of trees—not very successfully, though.  

At one spot, I noticed a landslip that had taken massive chunks off the greenery from the chain of verdant hills, showing hideous scars—reminding a fair-skinned face of a lady disfigured by burns.  

That was a common sight throughout our trip. What was to blame—deforestation, massive stone-quarrying, land-plotting, newly dug roads, or everything thrown in together? I wondered. 

Voilà, our steaming hot noodle soup arrived and we wolfed it down in a mighty hurry. The host turned out to be a pleasant fellow, forthcoming and conversant. We struck up a conversation and I asked him what trees they had in Nursery Bhanjhyang.  

I got bowled over when he recounted the whole shebang in a single breath: Kafal (bayberry or box myrtle), Katus (chestnut), Rhododendron, Utis (Nepalese alder), Chilaune (Needlewood, Schima Wallichi), Kapur (camphor), Saur (Betula alnoides), Chaamp (Magnolia Champaca), and different species of pine.  

The mention of Seti Kath (wood) caught my interest. “It’s a hardwood used in sickle, hammer, and ax handles,” he said. After a filling meal and an enlightening chat, we hopped onto our saddles again.   

The dirt track got progressively muddier, and trickier. The rustic setting remained unchanged, green with sparse habitation, copses of wood, and rice terraces that dropped to the foothills. We left behind clusters of roadside villages with forested hillsides.  

Next, we stopped at Damdame, a small Tamang settlement, for tea and a brief rest. Our bikes, caked in red mud, looked queer. My Trek’s disc-rotor squealed funny every time I squeezed my brakes—Shishir’s Giant was none the worse. A massive tree stood by the shack, doubling as a tea-shop and living quarters. 

An elderly Tamang lady appeared, and we asked her for tea. She barked the order to two young women, one presumably was her offspring and the other a daughter-in-law. A young lad by the side turned out to be her grandson. I went for a second cup and biscuits while chatting with the old lady. 

Curiosity had me asking the widowed septuagenarian, Dev Maya Tamang, about the hoary tree. She told me it was a Chiuri (Indian butter tree). “It has been there since I was a toddler,” she said. I learned that Chiuri seeds produce ghee.  

Man-o-man, Dev Maya seemed mighty chatty for her age, even had her hair dyed jet-black. She got married when she was just 10. Even her body language created a feel-good vibe. I consider myself a jokester, always up to some wisecrack—but she beat me to it every time.  

After refreshing cups of tea and a lively chinwag at Damdame, we bid farewell to the ladies, particularly the 77-year-old Dev Maya. I’d hit it off well with her the next time we met. 

I had to admit, albeit miles from urban comfort, the village folks were insatiably curious, smiled profusely, got into playful jabs, and carried a remarkable sense of humor even in deprivation. 

The little time spent with the chatty Tamang lady at Damdame made me forget my aching muscles from the long, grueling ride—and off we went again. 

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A 69-km cross-border pipeline with a capacity to supply to Nepal two million metric tonnes of petroleum products a year.

What’s the big deal? Per ancient tales, King Bhagirath brought the river Ganga to Planet Earth from the heavens without much pomp and show.

That was cakewalk. That was a gravity-flow water supply system, modern-day engineers are likely to argue.    

Well, the Homo sapiens of this day and age are a bit different (About the ways of Bhagirath, we don’t know much). We go for easy things. We take things like time, effort and money into account.

Consider the alignment of the pipeline. The pipeline originates at Motihari, at an altitude of 66 meters, passes through Raxaul (78 meters), the Parsa national park in Nepal and culminates at an altitude of 303 meters in Amlekhgunj where Nepal has one of her vital fuel storage and distribution infrastructure.

For a country of eight-thousanders, 300-meter elevation is no big deal. That’s beside the point here. The point to note is the difference in altitude between the pipeline’s start and end points.

What’s more, the government is quite serious about extending the pipeline all the way up, literally, to Kathmandu via Chitwan (Lothar).

Defies logic?

Let’s take Thankot (Kathmandu) as the endpoint of the to-be-extended pipeline.

Even our planners, policymakers, ministers and government officials know that Thankot is way above sea-level. They know that it qualifies to be a mountain of sorts (or do they not?).

It’s quite difficult and costly to transport goods, fossil fuel included, to the hills and mountains. Well, that is what this Hillian read and also experienced in his school days. But this does not mean our mountains should be devoid of vikas (development). As for vikas, successive governments have been as serious as India’s Prime Minister, Narendra Modi, whose rallying cry is ‘Sabka Saath Sabka Vikas’. Yours truly shall not dare translate this gem of a slogan, for his words are all too shallow.

What better way to bring vikas to the mountains than in the form of a cross-border petroleum pipeline?

The skeptics may argue: Why build petroleum pipelines in a country with a good, if not huge, hydropower potential? Pipelines are costly, time-consuming and take a lot of effort.

Why not? Our development-friendly government would like to answer, perhaps.

You see, generating hydropower in Nepal is quite easy. Every Tom, Dick and Harry can do that.

Easy things are what our governments, this government in particular, detest. This government loves challenges. Challenges like transporting fuel and gas to the mountains from almost sea-level points across the border. Such feats give our governments a sense of achievement.

Hard to believe this line of logic? Let’s turn the pages of history of the pipeline project.

With a vikas-premi sarkar in place at Singhadurbar, planning for the 69-km Motihari-Amlekhgunj petroleum pipeline began as early as 2004. The idea was to bring down the cost of shipping fuel (oil and gas are still mostly transported from across the border in tankers) and ensure a smooth supply by reducing chances of supply-related obstructions and disruptions.

Millions of Nepalis not born back then but lucky enough to get a taste of good governance these days will envy millions like yours truly for sure. Why? Because we have grown up and gotten old savoring the yummy flavor of this particular brand of governance. But don’t lose heart, guys. Competent astrologers with friends in high heavens have predicted that the current prime minister will have two more tenures.

Thanks to the pipeline, a mini-Amazon type petro river has been flowing in a country known for streams and mega-rivers like the Koshi, Gandaki and the Mahakali.

With utmost loyalty comparable to the Gurkha soldiers, these water bodies have been fulfilling drinking water, energy and irrigation needs of the neighbor across the border, with a little bit of taming and training, of course. In the coming days, more of our rivers like the Arun and the West Seti will be in the special service of our dear neighbor, thanks to our very own visionary prime minister and his predecessors, who have signed deals to this effect.

These days, certain quarters are busy spreading lies in Nepal. They have been claiming that soaring fossil fuel import bills, going further northwards due to factors like the Russia-Ukraine war, are already having an impact on the Nepali economy. They have been speculating that these soaring bills may land the country into an economic crisis. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Ever the land of milk and honey, we Nepalis have been living happily as ever before. Our trademark smile tells it all.

Don’t believe us? Come, visit us from every nook and corner of this globe and beyond. Check with your very own eyes…

You guys love Nepal and the Nepalis? Want to do us a favor?

Spread the Nepali model of development far and wide.