Everyone has something or the other that Krishna Man Pradhan has helped with or can help them out with. In his own words, he is a “jack of all.” When he says this, he lets out his characteristic jovial laugh. He also uses this same laughter to camouflage other emotions.
Pradhan runs a hostel for students. When the boarders are gone during holidays, he runs the same space as a lodge. His incredible list of interests rolls off his tongue as easily as the clouds roll off the tumbling hills that surround his cobbled town. Pradhan likes to dance. Cheerful and stocky, he still retains his youthful features, the same ones that made him dance as a girl when he was a student. He likes to sing and play the harmonium and write both poetry and prose.
Late in the evening, as Bandipur Bazaar closes its shuttered windows and doors, Pradhan’s soft voice singing his favorite Newar song, Rajamati Kumati, drifts into the misty streets. As clouds come down on Bandipur, Pradhan’s voice moves the romance of Bandipur up a notch.
Pradhan is also involved with the Notre Dame School in Bandipur, a dreamy-looking stone building nestled amongst huge trees. Pradhan also paints – landscapes and portraits – and even signboards and banners. He is associated with the local library, too – a small roomful of books over a temple that is right in the middle of the bazaar’s main street. And he also plays the dhimey baja, a double-sided Newar drum, the beats of which keep time with the smashing sounds of brass cymbals beautifully.
He says he is just helping out the town’s “young boys” prepare for an upcoming festival by jamming with them in the rain-drenched streets. He also likes to design and build. As to what, there are many things, he says. He recently helped design wooden pillars to support a nearby house that was about to cave in.
But most amazing of all is his tiny darkroom where he develops photographs using equipment that he literally built from scratch. Pradhan initially worked from a shed in his backyard. Using an old, damaged, medium-format camera body – he referred to it as “box camera” as in the olden days – of a friend’s, he built himself a homemade enlarger for printing. His main concern at that point was light source. Electric power was inconsistent during that time. Necessity bred ingenuity. So Pradhan just figured out a way to use natural light instead. He made a small, round hole on the roof which directed natural light into the box-camera body and down onto the easel which he was printing on. For the darkroom red light, he made another small hole on the wall and covered it with red plastic.
His self-designed apparatus had limited focusing ability. He had to manually screw and unscrew the camera body to the wall. Pradhan would get the necessary chemicals from Patan. After figuring out the required calculations by trial and error, Pradhan successfully opened Bandipur’s first photo studio. The locals did not have to go to the city to get pictures taken anymore. Pradhan still runs this photo studio today; developing prints that document the good times of the residents of his town.
Pradhan is married with two daughters and a son. When they were growing up, Pradhan had but one expectation from them.
“I am a farmer’s son and have a Bachelors degree in Political Science. So I told my children that being the children of an educated father, they must at least obtain a Master’s degree,” says Pradhan amidst another round of laughter. His daughters obliged, but his son could not. About this, Pradhan cannot help but hide his disappointment.
“All I want is for him to do something worthwhile with his life. I don’t need him to send me money or to come back to look after us in our old age,” says Pradhan, suddenly just a tired father who has worked hard to provide for his family. Before he leaves, Pradhan adds, “When you keep busy with work or with learning something, you spend less and earn and learn more. What you do in life makes you great, gives you recognition. Not your caste, your family holdings or even your education.”
Pradhan is the voluntary caretaker of this town. He has helped keep the traditions of the town intact by giving continuity to local festivals and by teaching music. And he has always been around when the locals have sought his help. In the warm red light of his darkroom as he develops prints with the same apparatus he built decades ago, he has witnessed the lives of these very people unfold – one moment, one picture at a time.
Should any lively place on earth have a thriving heritage in a living person, it is no other than Krishna Man Pradhan of Bandipur – a scenic frontier hill town that is a worthy destination in itself. But when a Newar-centric town like Bandipur outside Kathmandu has a Newar denizen as its illustrative mascot, the historic place and its exemplary patron complement each other. To visit Nepal’s Old World Bandipur Bazaar also means, therefore, to make a pilgrimage call on no other than its proud native son – the one and only Krishna Man Pradhan*.
* (Corrected)
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