Astitwa

When Silence Is No Longer Neutral

There was a time when silence meant restraint.
Today, silence has quietly become a position.

Across societies, people are no longer choosing sides based on values or understanding, but on noise. The loudest narrative wins, not the truest one. In this environment, remaining silent is often mistaken for wisdom—but more often, it is simply fear dressed as neutrality.

What’s dangerous is not disagreement. What’s dangerous is the absence of questioning. When people stop asking why, power stops needing justification. Narratives are handed down fully formed, and individuals are expected to adopt them without reflection. Identity becomes borrowed. Thought becomes outsourced.

Astitwa is not about being loud.
It is about being present—mentally, ethically, and consciously.

Choosing to think independently today is an act of quiet resistance. It means accepting discomfort. It means risking isolation. But history shows us this clearly: progress has never come from crowds that followed comfortably, but from individuals who paused and asked inconvenient questions.

The real crisis of our time is not political instability or social division.
It is the slow erosion of individual conscience.

Silence may feel safe, but it is never neutral.

Nepal as a Testing Ground for Manufactured Religious Conflict

What we are witnessing in places like Birgunj does not feel organic. It feels engineered.

Nepal increasingly looks like a testing playground for groups that understand one dangerous truth very well:
👉 Religion, when mixed with fear and humiliation, can mobilize masses faster than reason ever can.

We see the same template repeated across the region:

Hindus in Nepal are told their identity is under threat

Muslims in Bangladesh are pushed into fear and reaction

Hindus in India are kept in a constant state of perceived siege

Different countries. Different religions.
Same psychology. Same operators. Same outcome.

The Illusion of “Religious Astitwa”

People genuinely believe they are fighting for their religious astitwa (existence).
But in reality, many are unknowingly becoming actors in someone else’s conspiracy.

No religion — none — teaches:

burning another’s place of worship

humiliating another faith

turning neighbors into enemies

Religion teaches discipline, compassion, restraint, and dignity.
What we are seeing instead is weaponized sentiment, not faith.

Those who orchestrate this never stand on the street.
They never face curfews.
They never lose livelihoods.

They only watch — and benefit — as society fractures.

The Real Danger

The most dangerous part is not the protest, the riot, or the slogan.
It is this moment:

When a common person stops thinking
and starts reacting in the name of religion.

That is when democracy weakens, society polarizes, and external agendas find easy entry.

Nepal’s strength has always been coexistence without fear.
If we lose that, no religion wins — only manipulators do.

A Question We Must Ask Ourselves

Before sharing a video, joining a protest, or chanting a slogan:

“Is this truly my faith speaking — or someone else using my faith?”

Protecting religion does not mean destroying harmony.
True astitwa is preserved by wisdom, not rage.

Most people don’t defend their ideas — they defend the ideas they borrowed. Not because those ideas are true, but because questioning them would mean questioning themselves.

We live in a time where opinions travel faster than understanding. A headline becomes a belief. A viral post becomes a conclusion. And slowly, thinking is replaced by repeating — louder, angrier, and with complete confidence.

The real crisis of our time is not misinformation.
It is the fear of standing alone with an original thought.

[Independent thinking is lonely — and that is why it is rare.]

हामी प्रायः देश, सरकार र सिस्टमलाई दोष दिन्छौँ, तर आफ्नै व्यवहारतिर हेर्ने आँट कमै गर्छौँ। नियम मिचेर काम छिटो भयो भने हामी नै सन्तुष्ट हुन्छौँ, तर अरूले त्यही गरे भ्रष्टाचार भनेर गाली गर्छौँ। कर नतिरे पनि सुविधा चाहिन्छ, लाइनमा नबस्दा पनि अनुशासन खोजिन्छ। यस्तै साना–साना व्यवहारबाट सिस्टम कमजोर हुँदै जान्छ, तर दोष सधैँ माथि मात्रै लगाइन्छ।

सिस्टम आफैँ बिग्रिँदैन, यसलाई चलाउने मानिसले बिगार्छ। गलत अभ्यास “सबै यस्तै गर्छन्” भन्ने बहानामा सामान्य बनाइन्छ, र सही बाटो हिँड्ने मानिस अव्यावहारिक ठहरिन्छ। यस्तो समाजमा परिवर्तन भाषण र नारा बनेर सीमित हुन्छ, व्यवहारमा कहिल्यै झर्दैन। हामी परिवर्तन चाहन्छौँ, तर त्यसको असुविधा र जिम्मेवारी स्वीकार गर्न चाहँदैनौँ।

“देश बदलिनु अघि नागरिकको सोच बदलिनु पर्छ।”

परिवर्तन ठूला आन्दोलनबाट होइन, दैनिक आचरणबाट सुरु हुन्छ—नियम पालना गर्ने निर्णय, गलतलाई अस्वीकार गर्ने साहस, र ‘म पनि जिम्मेवार छु’ भन्ने स्वीकारोक्ति। जबसम्म हामी दोष मात्रै खोजिरहन्छौँ, सिस्टम बदलिँदैन—केवल दोषीको नाम बदलिन्छ।