A NEPALI STORY BEHIND THE WAR
Prabin K. Prajapati
A Destiny of Merciless Politics
In the month of April, the sun was vertical overhead and it was considerably very hot in the afternoon. Birds, instead of flying in the sky, were resting in their nests to get relief from the burning heat. The atmosphere was very dry as if it was the desert. Every single leaf on the trees branches was standstill which seemed to be dried and lifeless because there was no breeze in the air. The place was a remote hill side where a very few scattered houses were built. The arable land which had been cultivated with maize had grown almost a feet. The surrounding arable land was stepped downwards and there was a small trail for walking up and down through it.
It was middle of the day, a woman residing one of the houses around the hilly village named Sahili (called for the third daughter) was weeding up the grass in the maize field. “Oh! What a hot day?” Shahili sighed and she drank water and almost emptied the Lota (a small water drinking pot) that was kept at her side. She wiped off her sweating face with an edge of her sari. That day she had no one to assist in her work. The field owned by her husband had been mortgaged to a Sahu (rich person in the village who lends money for high interest rate). The husband of Sahili had borrowed some money from this Sahu when he finally decided to leave the village for a few years. Instead of going to the cities within the country, he went to
Her hands started again to play on the roots of maize plants, rooting out the weeds growing around. ‘It has already been two years Man Bahadur (her husband) has been in
Kanchha (called for the youngest son) who lived nearby the other side of the hill sometimes came to her and would say –
“Bhauju (called for wife of elder brother) our emancipation days are near. We are going to win the battle. We have chased the enemy out of the village, and now they confined themselves inside the centre of the district headquarters. You know, at present we need moral and physical support from all levels of people especially like from you. It adds a great endurance in our holy battle. I personally request you to join our party.”
Sahili knew a little about these ongoing activities in the village. She tried to remember the fresh events and tried to understand why these activities were ongoing for last a couple of months. She rather thought about her growing son who was five years old then. ‘Son is now five years old. Neighbors are suggesting me that my son should start his education now. How can I arrange everything like buying his new school dress, books and note copies without money?’ She felt pity for herself thinking about all those financial barriers.
She reviewed her past and her little understanding of political context. She murmured-‘I knew, there were uncertain dark days during the Panchayet regime in the country. There were many people who used to whisper about social injustice and corruption everywhere. I used to get my fists tight and get my blood boiled and felt convulsion inside them with extreme hatred. I would feel that all these corrupt people should be hanged immediately. In the nineties, the people’s movement gained momentum against the Panchayet regime. After that I came to know what the multiparty system was. Everyone expected a remarkable change. Even the elite and gentlemen in the village spoke that now they put forth the opinions freely. The village would see tremendous developments like drinking water, electricity, school, road and hospital. No one would need to go abroad for their sustaining livelihood.’ Sahili showed up with her brighter face for a single moment. ‘Twelve consecutive years have already been passed away, but where are all these? Instead, Man Bahadur was forced to go abroad because of increasing debt. Uh! The situation has deteriorated even more. It is more difficult to survive with only a little crop all round the year from this fallow land and a little milk from a buffalo.’ Sahili tried to review her overall understanding of the situation. Sahili cursed the political leaders on malpractice of the multiparty system, which created a culture without prior notification of halts, off-seasonal declaration of agitations and market closure every other day. She lamented, ‘There is always a stir everywhere. These movements ultimately bring difficulty to the poor people. There are frequently Nepal Bandhs. The halt has paralysed everything and forced people become sick of stagnation. One can’t go to market to sell milk. Go to hell!’ Sahili expressed her disgust. ‘Ah! There is no single happy moment to take an easy breath for the poor people like us.’ Sahili took a deep breath and felt a momentary relief.
“Bhauju, tonight there is a mass meeting at the top of the hill. You know there is a circulation from the party that at least a person from each household has to take part. Unfortunately, it has also mentioned in the circulation is that to be absent in the meeting a thousand rupees penalty for the party,” Kancha said while he was going downward hill.
He added-
“Bhauju, don’t worry, we are sure to win the battle soon. I can assure you, our hard time will be ended. Your son will get a quality education, and there will be prosperity everywhere in the nation. Please don’t forget to come to the top after the dinner. Let the boy sleep asleep in the house. There will be many people during the mass meeting.” Kanchha seemed in a great hurry as if he had to distribute this message all over the surrounding villages within a very short time.
Sahili worried-
“I don’t know what these things going on. Why do they compel all to be in the mass meeting? Again if I don’t go there they would penal me one thousand rupees. Oh! What a pitiful woman I am to live on this earth?’
She knew it was impossible to ignore it.
‘Hey…….what will happen if I go there? Shouldn’t I know what is really happening?”
Sahili eventually decided to take part in the mass meeting.
It was approximately 10 o’clock in the night. A torch rally went ahead with loud voices shouting. “Long live……..” suddenly, there were “Bang” “Bang” continued gun fires that produced a horrible condition in the atmosphere. The air in the periphery smelt gunpowder. Meanwhile a whistling bullet hit Sahili from the back. She fell down screaming, “Ah! God, help me!” While she screamed unexpectedly got an extreme pain, she had a chain of pictures in her mind, Man Bahadur and here sleeping son. Everyone in the rally desperately ran away here and there in a great hurry as if it was an earthquake. In a few seconds, the place was completely vacant. Consequently, the wounded lady remained alone. Her soul left her body after a few minutes of fierce flounces of legs and hands. No one knew what really happened to the people in the meeting. Those who participated in the torch rally dispersed in to the darkness throwing their torches as if they lost a total orientation. After about five minutes, someone dragged Sahili’s dead body up to the riverbed next to the downward hill and buried in already dug a grave.
The next day no one in the village knew where Sahili was. Her lonely son was crying desperately with hunger. No body came to feed the boy neither asked about his condition. Later, the village opened a huge rumor that Sahili probably eloped with someone leaving the son to his destiny. The hungry boy pleaded a help from the villagers but found himself a real destitute in that hostile land.
The hungry boy went to the highway and he begged money for food. A few truck drivers threw some coins to show as if they had at least a little humanity in the world. It went on like the same way several days. The boy became a real beggar without any aim for the future except to feed himself food for the morning and evening. In later years, he extended friendship to the other street children. These street children were his family members and they had their own world. An occupation was ahead with him as an alternative to be alive with dignity. He started to collect filthy bottles and plastic wares together with other street children and sold them to the junkyards owners. Tourists and some social workers would take his photographs however seldom asked where his parents were. In response, he built a readymade answer- “My father is missing abroad and my mother eloped with her new boyfriend.”
