About me

The joke of name

The readers know me by this very name. It means, my real name is not Chanky Shrestha. What is my real name ? This is a genuine question, and I respect it. I hope to disclose it at the end of this column .

I did not love my real name. What was there in name ? I was overwhelmed by it. I thought my life was unsuccessful, as I faced vertigo everywhere due to the very rascal name. I thought the person who has such a name is always unfortunate and poor. It seemed, my name and poverty used to run together, as fast as possible, as if they were in a hurry to reach a point. What would take place if they reach there ?

I became enemy to my own name. Often it used to follow me, sometimes as a cannibal to pounce upon, sometimes as a cobra hissing to sting and sometimes as a notorious murderer to stab a sharp razor. Though, it was a dream, the fear of my name did not leave me fearless.
One day, it stood before me, as my own duplicate.
‘I’ll keep on imprisoning you within me. As you know I love you very much and without imprisonment, man loses his identity ?’ he said.

I realised that I had been victim of trickery, a verbal embellishment, a metaphor. And in a voice choked with resentment, I said, ‘What does the rascal identity mean whereas it always makes me sink into the pond of poverty and misfortune ? I must kill you to rescue myself from your hell imprisonment.’

Then we both attacked each other with sharp swords. All of a sudden, I woke up before the result. What would happen if we both were killed ?
Then after, I said to myself, change your name babusaheb, if you want to be successful in your life. And the time came; I invented my new name, which was extraordinary, and wrote it down in my poetry, diarybook and everywhere but nobody called me with it. (I don’t have parents, and not having parents is the first precondition of freedom to change one’s name. I am sorry if I happened to mean loosing parents is preferable.)

The past was clothed in new tafetta. Alas the joke of life, now I feel the new one also does not favour me and rather mocked with. And this creature also seems to me a prancing bufoon, a clown, an enemy making fun of me, as if I am walking with a strange mocking clown on my head.

The people make joke of my name, usually those who are not aquainted with my writings. When I call friends at their home, the family members generally mispronounce and ask my name repeatedly. (As you also may feel it is not a common name and very difficult for the general people to pronounce. My name is as if foreign language and men mispronounce it.) I can do nothing more than being irritated. Yes, that is why, I tried frequently to change my second name too. Some friends made joke that I had to organise a press conference to make my new name public. But this time I was totally failed, since the new name has been my own image. It looked like a penance. What can I do now as this name is inseparable like my own skin ?

Well, I had promised you to disclose my real name. What is my real name ? Shoot the issue right this time. Since, it is not important that much. (If you are really eager to know, someday I do disclose it.)

Who am I ?

Well, I am known as a young poet, storywriter and journalist from Nepal. I have been working as a journalist since 1994. I worked for Nepal Samacharpatra as a sub editor and Spacetime Dainik senior sub editor.These days, I am working for an English daily as well as doing freelance writing. Phoolbinako Shakha (The branch without flower, a collection of ghazals, 2004) and Kayakalpa (Metamorphosis, an anthology of poetry, 2005) are the two works in Nepali published to my credit which can be read in www.nepalikavita.com.

Confession

A journalist from Dristi weekly commented on one of my write-ups published in Mulyankan monthly that I had been so cruel to my own friends. I told him that I will not leave even my father if my conscience says he is wrong. In this way, you may call me an obstinate. If so, I don’t mind being obstinate. Once, I had been bashed by a bus conductor who was ferocious with an village-folk. Though I was weaker, I did not give in and he himself had to escape.

The person like me is always in danger to be killed even in loktantra though I had also fought for it with all my efforts both in 1990 and 2007 movement. (I have to mention that I had hardly escaped gun-shot at Durbar Marg on Chait 24, 2046 when I was a teenager college boy. Just escaped bravely and escaped death.)

I am central member of Progressive Writers’ Association. I don’t think I am a proper person for that. My friends nominated my name and I was elected with most votes. I was first with 238 out of 254. Dr. Jagadish Chandra Bhandari, Jeevan Sharma, Ahuti and so on were behind me respectively. What do you think am I an optimistic ? I can’t say properly. I am between hope and hoplessness. Though looking towards hope, the despair is drawing me behind and the hope is silent.

What do I think ?

Well, our country is in the threshold of democratic republic. I have a dream this country will enter it after the election of constituent assembly. Though, the person like me is always in danger even in loktantra, I believe in real democracy. I think, real democracy and monarchy cannot go together. Theoretically, democratic republican state makes an end to every types of feudal society. It is the door through which we can enter the culturally rich and just society. That is why we have to say bye bye to the monarchy as soon as possible. Yes, cultural revolution is the heart and soul of a prosperous political system. Without it, democracy is only skeleton, that cannot be wholesome body.

It is time to fight for democratic republican state, for which we have to stress on republican front which is proposed by leftist parties.

About the blog

This blog is to express truth. I uttered, utter and will utter but truth. The love for truth has led me to many many setbacks and misfortunes, though it is my really first love and hearty to me as the beloved. It is my heart and soul. Can a person be departed from his own soul who is alive ? Not at all. Truth is the same for me. Yes when I hesitate to express truth, think Chanky Shrestha is dead. It is also your duty to lead me to the way to truth if I am failed.
I assure that this blog will be the perfect forum for free and fair expression for all. You and your logistic comments are most welcome. Have glorious time to come.