KATHMANDU, Jan 13: “Our family’s pillar has been torn away,” says Bhim Bahadur Parajuli, father of Anish Parajuli, a martyr of the Gen Z movement. “Who will console us now?”
Anish, from Palungtar-3, Gorkha, was a young man determined to make a difference in his own country. Bhim Bahadur recalls, “He always wanted to support the family by working hard and making things right. Though firm in his ways, once he began a conversation, he could touch anyone’s heart. He constantly spoke seriously about the country’s future, worrying that if things went wrong, the people would suffer.”
The peaceful Gen Z protest called on September 8 left Anish deeply pained after security forces’ violent crackdown claimed innocent young lives. Though he was not a formal member of the movement, the events compelled him to act. Witnessing schoolchildren targeted and killed in the protest fueled his outrage.
On the morning of September 9, Anish left home around 11 a.m., telling his father he would check the protest site for a while. Riding with friends on 5–7 motorcycles toward Gongbu, he reportedly streamed the scene live on his phone. “I heard he was showing me the crowd live, but I didn’t watch,” Bhim Bahadur says. Around 2 p.m., news arrived: “Your son has been shot.” Rushing to Metro Hospital Maharajgunj with his daughter-in-law, Bhim Bahadur learned that Anish had already died at the scene.
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Recalling that moment, Bhim Bahadur breaks down: “We lost our son, our two grandchildren lost their father, my daughter-in-law’s sindoor (vermoline powder used in head by married women) was wiped away, and my wife’s arms are empty. Our family’s pillar has been destroyed.” Anish has been officially recognized as a martyr, but Bhim Bahadur says the declaration does nothing to lessen the pain.
“For the country, my son sacrificed his life,” he says. “But we are just an ordinary family. We were barely making ends meet, and now the future feels even more uncertain.”
For Anish’s wife, Manju Paudel, life has come to an abrupt halt. “I have two young sons, and I constantly worry about their future,” she says. Their eldest, Nicholas, is 14 and in eighth grade; the youngest, Melson, is just two. After nearly 15 years of marriage, Anish had returned from a long stint working abroad in Dubai and Qatar, aiming to build a life at home after the pandemic.
Anish had started a carpet business in Kathmandu’s Basundhara area. But the pandemic struck, claiming the lives of his business partner and his wife, leaving the enterprise in ruins. He later ran a small grocery store in Ramailo Danda using savings from abroad, even constructing a home for the family.
Manju recalls her husband’s sense of justice: “He couldn’t bear to see injustice. When schoolchildren were shot the day before, he felt he had to act. That’s why he went—and didn’t return.” News of his death reached her around 2:30 p.m., too late for her to reach him.
Though their grocery business had begun to stabilize, Manju now faces the daunting task of raising their children alone. Anish’s close friend, Sandeep Khatri, remembers him as a committed social activist: “No matter how busy he was, if someone had a problem, Anish would be the first to help. Lately, he was determined to do something for the country.”
The shooting of school children on September 8 had weighed heavily on Anish. Sandeep recalls their discussions: “He was deeply concerned about innocent lives lost—he believed it was a national tragedy.” When Anish passed away at Metro Hospital, Sandeep and others felt the profound loneliness of losing a close friend and a true advocate for justice.
“Even though the government provided Rs 1.5 million to the martyr’s family, the pain remains,” Sandeep says. “Justice will only be felt when the perpetrators are punished and good governance is realized.”
