सगरमाथाको नृत्यमग्न आत्मा

नेपाल प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठानको परियोजनाअन्तर्गत नेपाली कला साहित्य प्रतिष्ठानद्वारा प्रकाशित ‘सगरमाथाको नृत्यमग्न आत्मा’ नेपाली कविताको महत्वपूर्ण ग्रन्थ हो । मोमिलाद्वारा सम्पादित यस ग्रन्थले नेपाली आधुनिक कविताको सार्थक झलक दिन्छ । कति अर्थमा यो नेपाली कविताको दुर्लभ ग्रन्थ पनि हो ।

आधुनिक कविता केलाई मान्ने यसमा विवाद हुनसक्छ । कतिले लेखनाथ पौडेल त कतिले देवकोटालाई नेपाली आधुनिक कविताको प्रस्थान विन्दू मानेका छन् । मोमिलाले भने नेपाली गद्यकविताका सफल प्रयोक्ता गोपालप्रसाद रिमाललाई मानेकी छन् । यो मान्यता तर्कशील पनि छ । रिमाल नै त्यस्ता कवि हुन् जसले परम्परागत सम्पूर्ण पर्खाल भत्काएर गद्यमा पनि कविताका उत्ताल तरंग दिन सकिन्छ भन्ने सावित गरेका थिए । हुन पनि आजसम्म चेतनाका हिसाबले उनका कवितालाई छुनसक्ने कविता नेपाली भाषामा शायदै लेखिएका छन् । कवितामा क्रान्तिचेत र सुन्दर भाषा रिमालका कविताका खास चिनारी हुन् । उनका उच्च क्रान्तिचेतयुक्त दुई कविता ‘प्रति’ र ‘आमाको सपना’ यसमा समेटिएका छन् ।

Chandra Singh Gurung’s poetry

Poetry is heart and soul for a poet. For Chandra Singh Gurung, poetry is head, too. What does it mean ?

Yes, Chandra Singh writes pretty poetry not only with heart, but also with political sense. USKO MUTUBHITRA DESKO NAXA NAI THIENA (His heart did not have country’s map), a recently published poetry book by Chandra is the perfect evidence for it.

Chandra !

If only all the absurdities

Are swept away

With landslides !

-Pahiro (Landslide)

Really, Chandra does not write for only self-satisfaction, but also for the sake of nation, society and humanity. The book has 33 do-gooder poems. Poet Shrawan Mukarung writes, ‘Chandra’s poems are both contemporary and timeless.’ If you read the book, you will really have worth-reading. Thanks to Laxmi Rai who published this book.

You may be in touch with Chandra at chandu_90@hotmail.com or chandugurung@yahoo.com.

Poor Valentine poets !

A group of poets are organising a special programme of love poetry recitation at Gurukul on February 14 on the occasion of Valentine Day. What a joke ! Kahin navaeko jatra handi gaunma (The festival which is celebrated nowhere but in Handigaun) !

I don’t mean to say love poetry is totally useless. Love is an important part of human life. Thus, it should be the subject of poetry, too. It means love (man-woman making love) is all in all. Kavita Club, the organiser, is pleading love is all in all. If it is so, why do they wander for earning a livelihood ? Why don’t they make love with opposite sex every moment ?
Besides, Valentine Day has entered this country as a major tool of cultural emperialism and consumerism. On the pretext of Valentine Day, trade fo invitation cards and gifts of crores has been done by the trades. Should the poets not mock at this ? Alas, they are making themselves unknowingly a tool of emperialism and consumerism ! They are very clever to make the programme sellable by including some popular poets like Bairagi Kainla, Shaymal, Shrawan Mukarung, Sharada Sharma, Dinesh Adhikary, Abinash Shrestha etc.
Yes, love poetry recitation programme can be encouraged. Why don’t we choose some minority community love festivals for that ?

Literary manifesto of Dolakha Symposium

I had been to Charikot Sunday evening. A bundle of literateurs including Bairagi Kainla, Khagendra Sangraula, Bimal Niva, Shyamal, Ninu Chapagain, Ishworechandra Gyawali, Sudha Tripathy, Shrwan Mukarung, Narayan Dhakal, Harigovinda Luintel etc. who had fought in April Movement had left on Feb 9.

A two day literary symposium organised by Indreni Sahitya Samaj, Dolakha Sahitya Samaj and Progressive Writers’ Association, Dolakha was held on Feb 10 and 11. They discussed about the way the Nepali literature should take. Ishworechandra Gyawali, Sudha Tripathy and Dr. Govinda Raj Bhattarai had presented their working papers. Every speaker stressed on the role of literateurs for democratic republicanism.

I was a member at the rapporting and manifesto draft committee in which Shyamal was the coordinator and, Thakur Belbase and Bishnu Bhandary were other members. The committee presented seven point manifesto which stressed on the creative interventions of writers for democratic republicanism. I don’t know how it was though it was unanimously passed and appreciated very much.

The programme was really immemorable for me. I was in touch with some hearty friends who are journalists and writers like Chiranjivi Maskey, Rajendra Manandhar, Bhojraj Neupane, Bishnu Subedi. I can’t forget Geeta Shivakoti, Jaya Budhthoki, Biswas Bhandary, Hari Khanal, Jit Karki, legislator Ananda Prasad Pokhrel to whom I was personally unknown but known according to them heartily with my stories and articles. (I am sorry if I have become egocentric). I don’t forget them who had invited me to their home. Thanks my friends.
Thank you Dolakha, you have lent Nepali literature very much.

Nobel laureate Pamuk’s Snow

I have just read Snow, a world famous novel by Turkish novelist Orhan Pamuk, this year’s Nobel Prize winner in literature. He is known as anti-establishment writer all over the world. Snow is his most famous novel published in 2004.

Ka, poet and journalist, a visitor to his rural and poor hometown of Kars in Turkey, is sought after by many for his presumed access to the German (”European”/”Western”) press. He is also protected by this and while he will be questioned, he will not be tortured.

Ka says he is investigating the suicides of the “headscarf girls”, who are the real victims of this political culture, for a story in a German periodical. While Islamists ponitificate on the pitiable piety of the suicide girls, Ka finds other motives. These motives show a paternal willingness to marry off, abuse or otherwise sacrifice their daughters that reflects the same attitude that pressures them to wear the scarves. The sad situation of the girls, caught between their desire for an education, their need to belong and their families’ desire to control them is never expressed by the girls (except by their suicides)… only by those who presume to speak for them.

(Please read Snow: The famous novel by Orhan Pamuk on the article page for detail.)

Bund Rana at Gurukul

A solo ghazal recitation of Bund Rana was presented at Aarohan Gurukul Saturday. Anam Mandali, a group of young ghazalists who write ghazals in metre and stress on ghazals to be musicalised, with the association of Aarohan Gurukul was the presenter. The selection of the hero was praiseworthy because Bund’s ghazals and his singing (without music) are really gorgeous. He sang about dozen ghazals including two of Urdu language, which received big applause. Subas Agam, Rupak Dotel, Indira Joshi and Ramesh Pokhrel sang his ghazals (with music).
Only the applause is not the scale of quality things. Some audience were applauding even on the ghazals in Urdu. Some conscious audience including Kantipur journalist Ghanashyam Khadka were commenting that the ghazals in Urdu should be presented in India or Pakistan. The comment was genuine since the conscious Nepali audience seek perfect Nepali flavour in such a programme. Leave the hell mobocrats, who were begging a cute young female singer once more(you understand what they mean, what I mean. You know the mobocrats were applauding even then when the great phylosopher Socretus was dead of drinking Hemlok.) Ramesh Pokhrel was singing the same way as Gulam Ali does. Even his filmsy dress was the same as of the Pakistani singers. Before singing, he recited two cuplets of Bund’s ghazal in Urdu. He himself had translated it. What a great mania to Urdu and Hindi ! It seems for Nepali ghazal singers, being perfect parody of Gulam Ali is the essential quality to sing ghazals. The singing by Bund himself (without music) was far better than the singing (with music) by the socalled singers.
The designing of the programme was very bad. It seemed a sort of childish play. The main commentator on Bund’s ghazal was poet Bimal Niva who loves ghazal not at all. What a great joke ! Other three also delivered their speech on him, including Bund’s wife Sonu Gurung, who bored audience very badly. (Welldone dear organisers, you missed to present the past, present and would-be lover of Bund Rana.) The presentation of MC, an anchor from HBC radio too traditinal and oddly diabolical. The programme was sheduled at 3.30 pm but started at around 4 and lasted till 7. (Sunil Pokhrel told me that the designing of the programme was totally of Anam Mandali, not of the Aarohan at all.) May lordship (not lord because it is no more than a statue) Pashupati Nath rescue them from childish play.

Woman! Woman!! Woman!!!

I love reading French fiction writer Guy De Maupassant very much. I think no short story writers can be compared to Maupassant and Chekov. The delicacy and powerful sensivity of their stories are diabolically marvellous.
I have recently revised the representative short stories by Maupassant, which is edited by Varsan Stery. The sensibility of woman and men-woman relationships are marvellously illustrated in his stories. Right now, I remember the famous story Idyll. Yes, the story has mainly two characters who are travelling through a rail. The woman seems here gluttonly and eats very much. As a result, her breasts tightens unbearably. She had not chance to feed breast to her children for two days. It is too much for her. At last the man at her compartment helps her. Please enjoy the orgasm of the story in the author’s own word-

He had put his hands around the woman’s waist to press close to him, and he drank slowly and steadily, with a movement of the neck like that of a baby.
Suddenly she said: ‘That’s enough for that one. Now take the other.’ And he obiedently moved to the other breast.
She had placed both hands on the young man’s back and was now breathing deeply and happily, enjoying the scent of the flowers mingled with gusts of air blown into the carriages by the movemnet of the train.
‘It smells nice round here’, she said. He made no reply but went on drinking at the fountain of her breast, closing his eyes as if to enjoy it better. But then she gently pushed him away.
‘That’s enough. I feel better now. That’s put new life into me’.
He had stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Pushing her breasts back inside her dress, she said, ‘That was a real good turn you did me, Monsieur. Thank you very much.’
And he replied gratefully, ‘ It is me as has to thank you Madame. I hadn’t had a thing to eat for two days.’

Exporting poets abroad

Jaromil said that he wanted to know when his poems would appear. The editor lost his patience, got up from his chair, took Jaromil by the arm and led him toward a big cabinet. He opened it and showed him piles of paper stacked on the shelves.
‘My dear commrade, in an average day, we receive poems from a dozen new contributors. How is that per year ?’
‘I can’t figure it out in heads’, said Jaromil with embarassament when the editor insisted to guess.
‘It comes 4,380 new poets per year. Would you go abroad ?’
‘Why not ?’ said Jaromil.
‘Then keep on writing’, said the editor, ‘I am certain that sooner or later we are going to be exporting poets. Other countries export technicians, engineers, wheat or coal but our main resource is lyrical poets. Czech lyrical poets are going to establish lyrical poetry in developing countries. In exchange for our lyrical poets we will get coconuts and bananas’.

(A peace from Life Is Elsewhere, a world famous novel about a budding poet and his adoring mother by Czech novelist Milan Kundera. Please read the article on Milan Kundera inside article page if you want to know about Kundera and his works.)

New style of book launch

I was really impressed by a book launch programme held in Bar Association hall, Saturday. Generally, I feel too bored when I am in a literary programme because of the worthless formalities. But the launch programme of the poetry collection Warjit Abasesh (Prohibited Fossils) by young and energetic poet Keshav Raj Silwal was totally different. There was no chief guest to launch the book who generally is the socalled big hand, nor were the formalities of welcome and thanksgiving speech. Swargiya Swapnil Smriti, Narayan Shrestha, Padam Gautam and Momila released the book by reciting each one poem by Silwal. Yes, they also clarified why they chose the poem which they recited. What was the cause the releasers were totally new and different ? I was really impressed by the answer of organiser who said, we chose the young hands who made a good status in literature as well as in their profession with their struggle in spite of adverse circumstances. What a good idea !
Well done, Keshav !

Milan Kundera’s Life Is Elsewhere

I have read a series of interesting books recently in which Joseph Skvoresky’s Emoke: Legend, HG Wells’ The Invisible Man, The thoughts and life of Socretus, Milan Kundera’s Life Is Elsewhere are some of them. As you know Kundera is that marvellous writer who is compared to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the living legend of world literature. Marquez won Nobel Prize in 1982, but Kundera is ousted every year. (You can read a much more comprehensive article on Kundera by Jan Kulik in this blog under Article page.)
Yes, Kundera’s Life is Elsewhre is really a masterpeace. A budding poet and his adoring mother are the central characters of this intriguing novel. Kundera takes us through the young man’s fantasies and love affairs, alive with wit, eroticism, voeurism and ideas. It reflects his own tone and intentions. As such it offers an opportunity for both the discovery and rediscovery of one of the very best of a great writer’s works.
Don’t miss to read this novel if you really want to read a good book. Well, this book is available in Educational Book House or Pilgrims in Kathmandu. Don’t forget to buy Indian edition, which costs just Rs 169. If you take English one it costs you more than Rs 400.
The novel is as sweet as rich and funny poetry, which has different titles, such as: The poet is born, Xavier, The poet masturbates, The poet runs, The poet is jelous, The man in his forties, The poet dies.
Let me quote two paras from the starting of the novel, which tells how funny and marvellous craft Kundera’s writing possesses.

When the poet’s mother wondered where the poet had been
conceived, there were only three possibilities to consider: a park bench one night , the apartment of a friend of the poet’s father one afternoon, a romantic spot outside Prague late morning.
When the poet’s father asked himself the same question, he concluded that the poet had been conceived in his friend’s apartment, for on that day everything had gone wrong. The poet’s mother had refused to go to the friend’s place, they had quarelled about it twice and reconciled twice, and while they were making love and door lock of adjoining apartment rasped, the poet’s mother took fright, they broke off, and then they resumed lovemaking and finished in a state of mutual tension to which his father attributed the poet’s conception.