
Janak Ghartimagar, a producer who became wheelchair-bound after sustaining a spinal injury in a road accident, has invested over three crore rupees to produce the film Mitjyu. In local culture, ‘Mit’ represents a profound social bond—stronger than blood ties, embodying trust, intimacy, and closeness. Traditional culture recognizes two equivalent relationships: Mit and Samdhi. In the Mit relationship, respect is extended even to the Mit’s spouse, termed Mitjyu. The film entitled ‘Mitjyu,’ starring Dayahang Rai, Sougat Malla, and featuring a compelling debut by Teriya Magar, is now screening nationwide. Though the storyline revolves around the theme of Mit, the story that truly captivates is that of the producer himself—a young man living his second life confined to a wheelchair.
While the organs above his chest can see, they cannot feel or control what lies below. Janak Ghartimagar from Khumel, Rolpa, is indeed living a second life after escaping death. In his first life, he made the film Gharjwai, completed it, and enjoyed driving a Creta. In his second life, he is no longer in a car but in a wheelchair. Though paralyzed below the chest, his dreams remain alive. His first life’s cinematic work was reborn as Mitjyu, produced with an investment exceeding three crores.
My frequent visits to the Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Center located on the Bhaktapur-Kavre border in Sanga began when my youngest sister, Savina, was admitted there following an accident on September 2, 2024 (Bhadra 17, 2081 BS). The center is a family-like environment, hosting patients with various degrees of paralysis, often unable to move their legs or even their hands, living with the help of wheelchairs, walkers, and elbow crutches. Despite differences in caste, gender, or geography, their stories share common threads. Alongside patients, their families endure similar hardships, often shedding tears in solitude, finding solace in shared pain and mutual support.
A severe spinal cord injury severs the body’s command over movement and sensation, necessitating months of intensive care. My youngest sister’s caregiver even quit her job to provide full-time support. Every evening at the center, the routine includes sharing updates on new admissions, discharges, and patients’ conditions.
In mid-January 2025 (Poush), I was delivering food to my sister when I was told that Janak Ghartimagar from Rolpa, the producer of the film Gharjwai, was admitted nearby. I was taken aback to learn he, too, was there—wheelchair-bound and facing the daunting challenges of spinal injury. This condition is often dreaded, one even wished upon one’s worst enemy.
Before meeting Janak—who could turn himself over only with assistance—I recalled my sister’s painful journey. Like Janak, she endured a severe accident on September 2, 2024 (Bhadra 17, 2081 BS). I was in Singha Durbar when I got the call from my friend Veer Bahadur Gharti: “There’s an accident; Savina has fallen down a cliff near Janbang in Madi-5.” Losing hope initially, I later learned she was rescued but severely injured, with spinal cord injury at T-10 resulting in total paralysis below the waist.
She was conscious but constantly pleading to be saved, facing a life now limited to a wheelchair. Our mother lost sleep, tears streaming, and our entire extended family mourned. While encouraging my sister to keep fighting, she underwent surgery and was shifted to the rehabilitation center in Kavre, where intensive and continuous care was essential. Months of therapy gradually improved her ability from wheelchair to walker and elbow crutches, although basic movement below her waist remains impaired. Despite complete T-10 damage, doctors have lauded her determination and spirit.
At the rehabilitation center, exemplary individuals like Dr. Raju Dhakal—himself a wheelchair user due to polio—help patients learn to live anew. This place focuses on therapy that revives inactive nerves and teaches patients vital life skills including mobility and personal care, all within an environment that fosters acceptance of harsh realities. It is a shared journey of patients and families learning to live with new limitations.
In mid-January, I met Janak in my sister’s ward. Though paralyzed below the chest and dependent on family assistance, Janak exhibited remarkable courage and acceptance of his condition. His mother and wife cared for him devotedly. We spoke little beyond comfort and reassurance. When I asked how the accident happened, he recounted that on December 8, 2024 (Mangsir 23, 2081 BS), while traveling from Butwal to Dang, his controlled Creta car veered off and struck a tree. Though airbags deployed, they could not prevent injury. He was airlifted to HAMS Hospital and then a trauma center, where spinal damage at T-4 and T-5 was confirmed, resulting in paralysis.
Despite being confined to bed and relying heavily on help, Janak shared plans for his next film, to be shot in Dhorpatan. “Currently, I can’t undergo treatment, but with advances in technology, future prospects will improve. For now, I must accept and focus on work. I will travel in the jeep to Dhorpatan and continue working in my wheelchair,” he said with resolve.
Many friends and filmmakers, including Dipendra Lama and Anil Budhamagar, visited the center to wish Janak well. Rehabilitation does not reconnect severed nerves but strengthens residual ones, teaches patients to roll, sit, use wheelchairs, and manage daily activities, while fostering an atmosphere of acceptance.
This story transcends individual hardship—spinal cord injury demands social and governmental attention as a significant humanitarian issue. Patients and their families form a vast interconnected community bound by pain, struggle, and hope. They deserve compassion, respect, medical care, and support. Janak Ghartimagar has become a symbol of this broader family. His film Mitjyu tells their story, offering an invitation to all Nepalis to recognize and support spinal cord injury survivors and their families.
The cost of spinal cord injury treatment is high. When asked why he invested over three crores in producing Mitjyu, Janak replied, “I feel as though I was born for filmmaking. Even now, it feels like I have been given a second life for films.” His story exemplifies the courage to rise again after a fall.
My sister still checks each morning if she can move her legs, yet nothing changes. Our mother dreams of her running, only to awaken to the same reality. Janak too tries every morning to feel his body but cannot. Her mother dreams of seeing him walk again, though the situation remains unchanged. Nepal counts around 10,000 spinal cord injury patients, with 500 to 700 new cases annually. Complete cures elude us, but emerging research offers hope, and patients must remain optimistic.
Spinal injury is more than a personal tragedy; it demands serious societal and governmental engagement. Patients and families form bonds akin to those of Mit—linked by shared hardship and hope. It is imperative that the government and society embrace, support, and care for them with love and respect. Janak is a proud member of this extended family. His film Mitjyu is their collective narrative, urging everyone to stand beside them in solidarity.
Today, Janak Ghartimagar may be in a wheelchair, but his life and the dreams of thousands more with spinal injuries continue. One day, a film will tell his story of resilience. This is not just Janak’s story but the shared hope of thousands in Nepal. I’ve told my sister, “You have two birthdays each year.” For Janak, I say, “December 8 is not the accident day but the birthday of your second life.” Visit your nearest cinema to watch Mitjyu and join in celebrating the resilient second life of Janak Ghartimagar.





