It’s nearly two years since Kishunji kaka’s death and here I am reflecting upon some moments spent with him. There are so many pleasant memories that oftentimes I feel overwhelmed just trying to recall them. My memories take me back almost 54 years. That’s a long time but my memories are still fresh. I still remember him coming to our house in Kupondole during winter mornings with a dolai wrapped around him. As soon as he arrived, my elder brother and I used to climb up on his lap and jump all over him and he would just bear it sportingly. Soon enough in 1960 he was put in jail and we went into an exile. My next meeting with him was in 1968 when I came to Nepal for a brief period.
Upon my return to Nepal, I went to meet him in Nakhu jail. I had with me a couple of packets of 555 cigarettes that baba had sent to him from Calcutta (Kolkata). I had an inclination that the officials would not allow me to take it inside the jail. Still I took my chances. When we reached the jail, initially the officials refused to allow cigarette packets inside. But after a bit of convincing the officials gave in. Kishunji kaka was happy to see me. His first comment was, “Ye tan ta thuli bhaichhas,” (“Oh, you have grown up!”) with a smile. A little later Kishunji kaka told me that cigarettes of Nepali brand were allowed. He quipped that perhaps the guards had never seen the 555 brand, and we had a hearty laugh. We started talking but I was having a hard time understanding him.
PHOTO: FILE PHOTO
His language was very cryptic. He asked me, “How is Chhabilal Mahajan’s son in law?” then he inquired about Baideu (that is how my father addressed my mother). I was puzzled. I did not recall him speaking in such a manner. To ease my discomfit Kishunji kaka asked me to see his room. I looked around. That is when I noticed a person by the door writing something on a table. Kishunji kaka very loudly said, “Waaha mero saathi! Maile birsinchhu ki bhanera sabai kura lekhnu hunchha” (“He is my friend. He writes everything lest I forget.”) and laughed. The person felt uncomfortable and nervously grinned at me. I could see the person noting our conversation, but I noticed that whenever the context was difficult or sentences too long with lots of English words he just stopped writing.
I immediately realized the secret behind Kishunji kaka’s strange language. The person noting our conversation had no clue that Kishunji kaka was referring to my father when he referred to him as Chhabilal Mahajan’s son in law (Chhabilal Mahajan was my maternal grandfather). Talking to Kishunji kaka after such a long time was fun but I was unable to pass on baba’s message to him.
Kishunji kaka understood I had something important to tell him and he asked the person in the room to go fetch him a glass of water. As soon as the person left, I quickly started whispering the message, but could not complete it before the person returned. In the meantime our meeting time had come to an end and I prepared to leave. Kishunji kaka said to the person, “Dherai din pachhi chhori ayeki, bahira samma puryau hai” (“My daughter has come after a long time. I will see her off to the door.”) He did not wait for the person’s response and asked me to follow him. He started going down the narrow stairs. I was right behind him. When he was standing two steps below me, halfway down the stairs, his ears were very close to my mouth. Seizing the opportunity, I completed my message.
It was two years before I met him again. In the meantime he had been released and thrown back into the jail again.
For him going to jail had become a ritual as he had decided to stay in the country and face the consequences. Eventually life in exile ended in 1977 as baba was also granted amnesty. In 1978, having finished my masters from Banares Hindu University I also came back. Since then, every morning I visited Kishunji kaka with baba. Most of the time I requested him to find me a job and as usual he would just smile and ask me to be patient. Those days he used to stay at his nephew’s house in Bakhundole. Baba (Yog Prasad Upadhyay) and Kishunji kaka were very good friends. He often said to me, “Tero baba ra ma ta dherai purano sathi. Thaha chha kahile dekhi?” (“Your father and I are very old friends. You know since when?”)
I would just nod my head and he would continue, “Nepali Congress banda dekhi, tyo bhaneko Banaras dekhi” (“From the time Nepali Congress was established, which means from our time in Banaras.”) and he would smile. I had no clue that baba and Kishunji kaka were planning to get me married off.
Tika-talo (the engagement) took place in the presence of Kishunji kaka and Ganesh Manji kaka (Ganesh Man Singh) according to the Nepali tradition at our home in Kupondole. The interesting part was that soon after the ceremony, when they came out with red vermillion tika on their forehead, they were all accused of plotting against the Panchayati government and baba, along with Kishunji kaka and Ganesh Manji kaka were arrested and put in jail. This was during 1979 student movement.
These memories will always stay with me, as will the time when he came to see us off at the airport on our way to Hawaii in 1983. He said he was very proud of our family. I still look at the picture taken at the airport and think, Ah! that’s my Kishunji kaka!
usha@pokharel.net
Related story
Kishun Ji: A True Hero
_20191222200001.jpg)
-1200x560-1779450784.webp)
