By Phulman Bal

Kantipuri,
Oh my beloved
Open your eyes
I have come
With red roses in my hands

**** ****

Forgotten since ages
I, crazed, lovelorn
Have come
To place these love-flowers
On your loosened hair

**** *****

Perhaps,
You’ve forgotten those days
When
You were adorned
In clothes I weaved
And your virgin beauty smiled
In the ornaments I studded
You sun-bathed lying
On the ancient courtyard that I laid for you
It was I who sketched
Your oil paint portrait in your boudoir
It was I who carved love images
On the ivory cupboards
Do you remember
Those formless shadows
That appeared north of your boudoir every evening?
That which you thought the soul of a white khyak – spirit
Was I
The rustling sound you heard
Was of my feet.

****** ******

Kantipuri,
Oh my beloved
I have many complaints
Who erected those white palaces on your breast
That you consider your identity?
Who engraved the crown as tall as temples and steeples on your hair
That you consider your pride?
Who decorated
Your beautiful garden
Where, rambling in the mornings and evenings
You lost yourself?
And who built the ancient stone-water-spout
Where, giggling with maids and friends
You washed your youth?

********* ***********

Yes Kantipuri,
O My beloved,
Entangled am I this moment
In the thicket of complaints upon complaints
Many a night,
Have I approached the golden door of your boudoir
To return without knocking on it
And when your cherished one
With drama of love
Continuously squeezed you
Many a time have I
Withdrawn my hand empty
From the khukuri sheath hanging on my hip
One day, lost in the rainbow of your intoxicating eyes
The tray fell on the floor
And with the ineradicable marks of the lash
Was I chased away.

****** *********

Tell me Kantipuri,
O my beloved.
Whose sweat has flowed on the walls of your palace?
Whose pain is engraved in the beam supports and taps of temples?
There, do I still hear the tunes of life flowing
And restless images of pain do I see swirling
While you went for drives in the vehicle
We, without being paid,
Carried on our shoulders from Bhimphedi
You enjoyed the cool breeze of the yak tail flipper
That we knitted till the blood boiled in our fingers
I used to sweep away the dung of your horse
And spend sleepless nights inside the stable
Many a time have I sprained my legs
While climbing Sanga Bhanjyang with a load of mangos for you

********* **********

Kantipuri,
O my beloved!
Ripping apart the veil of long sleep
I’ve awoken after an age
You were also asleep!
In a long sleep of delusion
Awake now.
Recognize and fold me in your embrace
To rub rose water
On your lethargic spine
Have I come.

******** *************

Now see.
The crimson rising in the East
Perhaps, from the coupling of earth and sky
A new morning is being born
And this morning will create
A new city
Such a city
Where
I shall love you without fear
And make you mine forever
Because
You’re always mine.

Phulman Bal
A kachahari play on loktantra has just finished showing in Kachanali village situated on the banks of the Seti River in Doti district of far western Nepal. The locals returned home discussing the issues of women’s rights, education and inclusive loktantra raised in the drama.

I spotted a wrinkled old lady with her grandson in a group of old women in their 50s.

“What’s your name?” I asked, intending to find out her impression of the play.

“Why do you want to know?” she shot back. “We illiterate people don’t have names. Go ask the educated people.”

The old woman then headed towards her home, muttering something in Doteli language which I could not understand. My question had angered her; it was writ large in her face.

Just then, Yogendra Malla, a teacher at the local Harihar Secondary School, pulled me by the arm and said, “Most of the village women are uneducated, and they don’t speak Nepali, only Doteli.”

photo: Dil Bahadur Chhatyal

A documentary is about to be shown in the school’s under-construction building. Many women and children have gathered to watch it. According to Malla, there are not many men because most fled to India during the conflict; and there is little hope of them returning except during festivals.

The documentary, Newsroom Bahira, is about an incident in Achham caused by unsafe abortion practices. A woman lies writhing in pain inside a hospital and dies after some time. Two years ago, a woman had died after a hot iron rod was inserted into her genitals to cause abortion.

“We could’ve saved her if there was a hospital nearby,” Malla commented after watching Dilbhushan Pathak’s documentary. “This is the misfortune of the far west.”

Parvati Malla, 46, of Kachanali VDC was listening to him as she clutched her child in her arms. She had come to see the film after watching the play.

Photo: Dil Br. Chhatyal

“The men don’t understand our problems,” she said. “Most of them go to work in Indian cities. Many return home infected with HIV and forcefully transmit the disease to their wives. If we have many children and want to have an abortion, we have no access to such service.”

Just a while ago, Parvati had been watching in silence when Silgadhi’s Abhiyan Sanskritik Samuha was staging the play. Only after the show did she start speaking openly, the chief reason being the play’s interactive style.

Propagated in the 1970s by Brazil’s innovative and influential theatrical director, writer and politician Augusto Boal as “Theater of the Oppressed”, this drama style connects the audience directly with the stage and creates an environment for finding solutions to one’s problems.

For example, the play has a scene where a Dalit girl is grazing her goats. She becomes thirsty and heads towards a tap by the roadside. When she is about to cup her hands to drink water, someone shouts, “She’s made the tap impure, this wretch!”

Photo: Dil Br. Chhatyal

The girl would not go without getting water, and they kept arguing for a long time. The narrator then stopped the play and threw a question at the audience, “Should the girl get to drink the water or not?” They shouted back, “Yes!”

Parvati also started voicing her opinion. “Yes, times have changed now. Why should people be treated as untouchables?”

Rukmini Shahi, 23, who represents the new generation, climbed on to the stage and pushed aside the man from the so-called upper caste who had been protesting against the Dalit girl.

In this style of drama, artistes weave problems of the local people into the story, and when the confrontation between the characters reaches a climax, the narrator asks the audience for a solution. The viewers then turn into characters and the problem is solved together.

Problems arose twice again in the play — in the scene involving a village girl and her trafficker and in the scene of the village council meeting. In both instances, the villagers actively participated to devise solutions, from chasing away the girl trafficker to uniform budget allocation and inclusive leadership for the village’s development.

Photo: Dil Br. Chhatyal

This style of drama, which aims at active audience participation rather than imposing ideals from the stage, is being staged in various villages of Doti these days. The campaign, conducted by Alliance for Peace as part of MS Nepal’s “Sthaniya Loktantra Nirman” program, has reached Doti via Palpa and Banke.

“It’s not enough to have loktantra in the constitution and leaders’ speeches. It should be the way of life of every citizen. Loktantra can’t be long-lasting if we don’t spread awareness to the local level,” program coordinator Ramesh Adhikari said. “That’s why we’ve started this campaign.”

Group Members of Loktantra Bus Campaign. Photo: Jhala Biswokarma

Yogendra Malla also seconded his views. The 23-year-old teacher was willing to help take the play to another village nearby.

In parting, he said to the play’s director Milan Pariyar and team coordinator Rajkumar Pathak, “Remember that there are also young people like us in the villages who haven’t fled to India.”

‘Congratulation !’
when I was into the lift, Mr. Shekhar Kharel, co-ordinator of the City Post, said- ‘I just saw your photos about china trip on the desktop of your computer. When did you go to china with Bikram Subba ? how was trip ?’

I was so surprised that I rushed toward my computer. But there weren’t any photos concern with China besides pictures of our Lumbini trip. Ha…ha….ha ! I got really fun. Actualy, Mr. Kharel, my senior friend got confuse because of a photo, which was about chainese monastery with beutiful chinese architecture.

Now your turn, How do you want to express on this photo ?

Last month, We were just coming back from morning walk to the hotel in the Butwal, westren Nepal. A local Women, who was standing in front of her tea shop teased my senior friend Dilip Rai. After That kind of behavior of women, Mr Dilip requested us to go to have fresh tea.

Bikram dai and we moved toward the tea shop. She welcomed us with ‘retired smile’. Dilip dai demonstrated his cheerful behave after getting her ‘smile’. But unfately, When we just took the glass of tea, her cell phone rang and she replied to someone: ‘Hi dude ! I m waiting you now !’

Then, I turned toward Dllip dai. He was really sad.

One beautiful evening of may 2008, I was in the bank of Babai river, mid western Nepal, wandering with natives of Dang. We got together a local tharu boy, who was riding the cycle on the bridge. He recurrently requested us to visit his home. Oh ! What kind of pure hospitality alive in the village ? We really weighted by him, but we didn’t have enough time and We miserably moved.

Now I m missing that lad, Dil Bahadur Tharu, 20 year of age. How is Babai ? Are you ok now ?

Life is all about the remembrance of the past. And past is nothing but the collection of the moments. This is one of the moment I passed cheerfully among the friends in my college Ratna Rajya Campus, kathmandu where we used to sit under the big tree of cherry and talk about love and politics sipping tea from the cup.

My friends Sharad and Sara seen in the picture are sharing their views on the same topic while I was responding by raising my hand.

I still remember those colorful days when I used to fish with the native of Marin. Two years ago I happened to be there via Mahabharata, the highest mountainous range of Nepal. The girl with red cloth and red vermilion TIKA on her forehead is now in Isreal who is still coming in my memory. we used to fish together. She loved me as her own brother. Oh, Marin ! I m really missing you.

It shakes its tail and rubs his mouth around my lap whenever I go home. We are facing a tragic day. He lives in a remote village of Kavre and I happen to be in a small corner of Kathmandu for the career. Today, the first day of Losar, the beggingin of new year in my culture, I went home. He repeated the same deeds. My shedule was tight and soon I returned back sepnding few moments with him too. He was wagging his tail and following me till my taxi ran away from him. Now I am missing him much!

However, this time, the travelogue isn’t about the fictional characters of B.P, but a group of artists, performers and media personals who had set off for a journey from Kathmandu to Banaras to pay a tribute to this late novelists and a revered political figure in Nepal. Established as a terrain where once Nepali language, literature and politics were cultivated, Kashi or Banaras was for the first time organizing an event where political revolutionist B.P was officially being commemorated.

A still from ‘yek rat’. pic by: phulman

Spending most of his life time in Vanarasi, Koirala was not only born there, but completed his education and commenced his political career from this popular pilgrimage destination for devotees. Along with plotting the democratic movements of 2007 B.C, he also spent years in Vanarasi after he was exiled from Nepal during the autocrat Panchayat rule in the Himalayan nation.

Bringing back the memories of B.P. Koirala and his struggle for the democracy in Nepal were a team of performing artists from Sarwanam theatre group and six familiar names in the field of Nepali theatre and movies. From the beginning of the journey, director Ashesh Malla had been brimming with excitement and anxiety for he was given the responsibility of directing “Ek Rath”, a story by B. P. Koirala himself.

While the play ‘Ek Rath’ was being staged at the Banaras Hindu University where politician Koirala had completed his education, audiences recalled the established diplomatic as well as cultural relationship between India and Nepal. “Koirala has also contributed in the freedom movement of India,” opined Anju Saran, director of Nepal Education centre of Banaras Hindu University. Adding further, she said, “Not only for Nepali citizens, he is also a source of inspiration for India politician.”

Written at the Sundari Jal jail by B .P. Koirala, ‘Ek Rath’ revolves around the character of martyr Durga Nanda Jha who was lynched after being apprehended for Janakpur Bomb Kanda. He was executed on 15 Magh 2020 B.S. for an attempted murder of Late King Mahendra. After the declaration of Panchayat system in Nepal, Durga Nanda had attacked the vehicle of King Mahendra while the late King was on his trip to Janakpur. Basically, known for his sexual psychological writings, “Ek Rath” is Koirala’s only creation raising political issue.

Oh ! Ganga, Oh ! banaras. pic by:Phulman.

The grid- locked traffic of Auto Rickshaws and cycles, and mind numbing crowd of Banaras was certainly a unique experience for a person visiting this town for the very first time. Amidst the mass, people were found reading reports published on broadsheets regarding the show we all were part of.

“Previously, we were totally unaware about B. P. Koirala,” disclosed Jyoti Sharma, a local newspaper reporter covering the week- long event organized by B.P. Koirala Nepal- India Foundation.

On the second day of the program, paintings and art works on the theme of the dramatic piece ‘Ek Rath’ were exhibited at the Visual Art department of Banaras Hindu University.
Not only with colors, canvases were wrapped with emotions and temperaments of participant artists from two friendly nations, demonstrating their sentiments associated with the story of Durga Nanda and recent loktantric movements in Nepal. Using acrylic mediums, the paintings gave an impression of violent movements and chaos with the use of intense colors such as red and at the same time a hope for peace and progress using colors like yellow and white.

Artist Ragini Upadyaya with her painting. pic by: phulman
Standing aside his paintings, Indian artist Pranam Singh was explaining to the visitors, “With the peace process in Nepal, the era of violence and bloodshed has now come to an end. The blurred gun with faint colors on my art works explains this contemplation.” Along with Pranam Singh, renowned Indian artists such as Binaya Singh, D. P. Mohanthi and Shiva Nath Roy had also portrayed their outlook on their canvases.

“Instead of horses that indicate tyranny and autocrats, now I’m endeavoring to paint pigeons,” revealed artist Durga Baral pointing at the faded sketches of horses signifying the down fall of monocracy in Nepal.

While painter Ragini portrayed anger and hope in her paintings of Dharahara and Ghanta Ghar, artists Ratan Rai, Radhe Shyam Mulmi and Chanda Shrestha resorted to some scenes from the play itself.

We left India on the sixth day after we crossed the border at Sunauli. But what we didn’t leave back was the experience of enhancing the political and cultural relationship between Nepal and India. “This journey is now worth being associated to the memories of BP and Benaras,” opined director Ashesh Malla.