Likewise, this call had a message: “Oho, Daju! Jagadish Shumsher allegedly phoned your house four times, and you weren’t home!” Really!
“But I was at my office jagir, at Republica,” I retorted as, simultaneously, my head swirled at the name called “Jagadish Shumsher.” I added, “Which Jagadish – the Narasimha Avatar and Khyak Rana?”
“The very same, Daju, and he’s looking for you. You better phone him right away!” This was an express order, to be carried out forthwith. As a Gurkha has it: As death has no medicine, a command can’t be questioned. So be it!
~~~~~
Frankly, as a Himalayan irredental itinerant, I’ve had it up to my neck with the high-caste Hindu ruling and aristocratic Shahs, Ranas and other Thakuris and Bahuns and Chhetris of Nepal. I closely knew Gyanendra and Dhirendra Shah and Anoop Rana at North Point in Darjeeling, the likes of Neer Shah and Kanchan Rana in Kathmandu, plus quite a few Pandeys, Thapas, Mallas, Basnyats, Olis and who not! I long ago experienced the strict “adab”, the royalese, and noblesse oblige of the biradaris and birasats housed in the massive manors of this Durbar and that Mahal, this Bhawan and that Kunj and Niwas of the Nepali jimwals, jagirdars and mouza-holders among the highborn. These formalities were constricting to an outsider Nepali Janajati Christian commoner like me, and I gradually wrested myself away from expensive perfumes mixing with Benson & Hedges and single malts. One must read an essay of Indra Bahadur Rai’s, written some 45 years ago, to convince oneself to finally declare, “I don’t need all that (daura-suruwal-topi-ista kot-kot ensemble and Darbariya and Hajuria lingo).”
I shared with Narendra Prasai on the phone some of the above apprehensions I have about Nepal’s feudalists.
“But Jagadish Shumsher isn’t like that,” he assured me. So I got Mr. Rana’s landline home phone number (“He doesn’t carry mobile”) at the Trikuti Colony Society of Battis Putali from Narendra and offered my “jadau” to Jagadish Shumsher Jung Bahadur Rana. And that’s how I got in touch for the first time with this mostly Shimla man in northwest India whose gargantuan ancestral Babar Mahal in Kathmandu has long ceased to be his domain.
Well, coming down to earthly matters, both of us were fans of each other’s writing, it transpired, though having remained unmet and unacquainted until the evening of Friday, August 27. More details will follow down below.
Four from 60 years ago sharing their 2004 BS yarns From left: Shyam Das Vaishnav, Jagadish Shumsher, Madhav Prasad Ghimire, and Satya Mohan Joshi (extreme right). Dr Modnath “Prashrit” and Rambabu Prasai (with his iconic umbrella) listen raptly.Peter J Karthak
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~~~~~
But before coming to the heart of this journal, I take myself to one balmy evening in 1976 or 1977. As I was walking from Tripureshwor to Narayan Sahu’s “tharra pasal” at Masa Galli to rendezvous every evening with Uttam Nepali, Rabi Shah, Narayan Gopal, Gautam Ratna Tuladhar, Kokil Gurung and other painters, musicians, writers, critics, and dancers, I was stopped by Uttam Kunwar Dai by a jacaranda tree near Bag Durbar.
“Get in,” he stammered. “We’re going someplace.” He was at the wheel of his yellow Volkswagen Beetle jalopy, and we drove to the American Library at the USIS on New Road.
Upstairs, there was already a warmly charged session in progress in the hall. It was the first literary “bimochan” I was seeing in my life. On the podium, the only familiar face I knew was that of Bal Krishna “Sama.” Was it Dr Ishwar Baral officiating at the meet? Then there was a man clad in mayal-posh, complete with dhaka topi and jacket who was speaking.
This was the first time I saw Jagadish Shumsher, and the event was the maiden publicization of his massive work, “Narsimha Avatar,” that had hit the market. After his explanatory speech, there was a question-answer period.
A female voice from the audience asked him, “Having listened to your lengthy talk on your own work, do I understand that you’re trying to found a cult – a sort of Jagadish Shumsher Cult?”
I think it was Banira Giri who posed this provocation.
“Well, why not?” the writer replied, coolly. “If my articulations are received well and my views are considered worthy of emulation, there ought to be a spontaneous response to what I just said. Yes, there should be nothing wrong if a cult was born of me.”
That put a lid on that portion of repartee, to everyone’s satisfaction. Bal Krishna Sama remained seated, quiet and smiling meaningfully on the dais. It was obvious that two Rana lions of Nepali literary expressions were in the same lair in that American auditorium that evening, regardless of the fact that they belonged to two dens of seesawing ruling cliques in Nepal. It showed a lot, as early as that, in the mid-Seventies. Thence, the writer is simply known as Jagadish Shumsher.
~~~~~
The second time I saw Jagadish Shumsher was on Monday, March 22, 2010, some 35 years later. The event was the winding session of the marathon celebrations commemorating the centenary of Mahakavi Laxmi Prasad Devkota, and tied up with the International Nepali Language and Literature Conference. Among the MIPs on the stage were Manisha Koirala, Madan Mani Dixit, Satya Mohan Joshi, Shyam Das Vaishnav, Ram Babu Prasai, Indra Bahadur Rai, and Jagadish Shumsher. The last two were sitting side by side, often talking. Other VIPs occupied the front rows of the hall.
The two keynote speakers of the morning session were Rana and Rai; the latter represented the Nepali Diasporas in Darjeeling and further east of the Mechi River.
Rana spoke on Nepali first sprouting as Sinjali “kura” to broaden as Khasan “boli” before it would spread as a “bhasha” from Gorkha, and then to the larger Nepali world within and outside as a common denominator.
Rai mentioned the pervasion of the Nepali language to the distant corners of the world, particularly mentioning, for instance, the new language called Nangami in Nagaland wherein many Nepali words and expressions were to be officially commissioned. He also mentioned the overnight appearance of Nepali music cassettes and CDs even in the hidden crannies of the remotest Northeast, and being instantly played and sung. The last pointer he made was for the Nepali writers writing in English (NWWIE), whose existence, he believed, should now be acknowledged by the greater Nepali world.
~~~~~
Now to the aforementioned business of the telephone call to Mr. Jagadish Shumsher Rana, I apologizing for the inconvenience caused to him by my unavailability when he called me many times. He talked about a get-together he was planning on Friday, August 27, and he wanted me to come to the occasion.
What added a genuine childlike allure to the anticipated occasion was the invitation I received from him the next Sunday at my office. Written by himself in Nepali, it was an invitation in a full-form letter, its copies Xeroxed and sent to the individual invitees, personally naming the recipients. Mine began with “Priya Peter” in his own hand, and the copy was numbered 23. Outside the corner down on the left-hand side, he had scribbled: “I know you without having met in person. Do come, let’s meet!”
This invitation-by-letter page itself is a historic document, worth framing for the wall or archiving for future reference. In it, Rana mentioned the span of 60+ years since he helped organize the first Nepali Poets’ Conference in Kathmandu in BS 2004 (1947) – during the desperate days of the dreadful Ranarchy – and the International Nepali Language and Literature Conference held in 2009/10 – a no less politically polarized period in present-day Nepal, in which, too, he participated.
In the letter, he mentioned only six or so remaining witnesses who saw both the historic caucuses of 60 years ago and 60 years after. He also acknowledged the rapid onslaught of Father Time, in which case it might perhaps be too late to arrange such a “ramailo milan” between the past masters of his time and today’s ascending generation of Nepali intelligentsia; hence this “jhattapatta” “bandobasta.” This was is the gist of the encyclopedic invitation on a single-page legal pad.
~~~~~
At the meet, Jagadish Shumsher was flanked by his old partners – Shyam Das Vaishnav, Madhav Prasad Ghimire, Satya Mohan Joshi – and others while missing were Gobind Bahadur Malla “Gothale” (ill), Madhav Lal Karmacharya (ear problem). Long gone were Laxmi Prasad Devkota, Bal Krishna Sama, Kedar Man “Byathit”, Hridaya Chandra Singh Pradhan, Gopal Prasad Rimal, Siddhi Charan Shrestha, Ratna Dhoj Joshi and others. Indeed, the six remaining comrades of 1947 were too few in the ensued 60 years. While each one reminisced of the good old days, comparing it with similar Catch-22 situations obtaining in Nepal today, they were unanimous on the roguish rage of two bravehearts of the past – Laxmi Prasad Devkota, declaring “We’re Brahma!” followed by his nearly three-hours-long speech at the 1947 Sammelan; and Gopal Prasad Rimal running amok and butt-naked with an unsheathed khukuri on Naya Sadak.
It was uncannily clever of the two Kathmandu Newars, Kedar Man Byathit and Hridaya Chandra, to use Jagadish Shumsher as a fait accompli in the Sammelan’s committee and workforce. Belonging to the lineage of Prime Minister Chandra Shumsher with Babar Shumsher, the commander-in-chief of the army, as his grandfather, Jagadish was also the son of the then Director of Education, Gen. Mrigendra Shumsher. Thus, Jagadish Shumsher became a democrat to the disgruntled intellectuals while he was likely to be demonized by his own fellow Rana rulers.
The above are merely side notes to the slim volume written by Rana which he presented to the participants. This was the final highlight of the warm and rainy dusk. Entitled “Sathhi Barsha Aghi Ra Pachhi” with regards to the “Prathham Kavi Sammelan” held in 2004 BS and the “Prathham Antarrashtriya Nepali Bhasha Sahitya Sammelan of 2066 BS, the pregnant booklet has the writing technique of flashbacks to and from on the two historic happenings. He mentions in bold letters all the heroic men (sadly not a single woman) of the first caucus, and the same goes for all the movers and shakers who made the recent meet possible, and the latter marathon has Usha Sherchan, Indira Prasai, Bhadra Kumari Ghale and other dedicated ladies involved in the planning and logistics of the series.
~~~~~
What are equally important in the publication are the names not mentioned in it. The half of the record is about the then young men of 1947 who are in their late 80s and early 90s today. The conspicuous absence of other influential names in the same contemporary list speaks volumes, and only insiders know the phenomena behind it. Therefore, the historic missive, for all its possible oversights, must also be read between the lines, and fine-print meanings should be discovered by readers themselves.
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Having said this much and leaving many things unsaid here, my only purpose behind writing this piece is to remind the Nepali youth of today of their great grandparents’ Nepal, and what a travel it has been since then to this day. I, therefore, dedicate this humble effort to today’s 20-something generation of Nepal while beseeching them to read the literary diary called “Sathhi Barsha Aghi Ra Pachhi” (Sixty Years Ago and After). With this decidedly unique document, Jagadish Shumsher has become the Nepali literary world’s new Motiram Bhatta and James Boswell.
