Humble Wanderings, Democracy. - Short Passage.
Note: Fictiion story based on what a common man desire's to know. It is not a Political Data.
Democracy lit, everyone cared, except for our family. We never cared of such politics; my father was rather an intellectual man, who followed Faulkner and cared about human heart. He was a greater writer; wrote everywhere, even his empty cig. case would be filled with black inked alphabets.
He passed some years ago, three to be precise. A living man, he never looked for country?s solutions. He was engaged deep in his own thoughts, his novels, which would, he said, one day explain the purpose of man?s beating heart. Even though that never happened, he was a brilliant and a nice man.
With him I have spend many diamiondic moments of my life. I can recall many such preciously profound moments; but one memoir of him I recall it as a propaganda; or may be a teaching? Many times I take it as later one; in fact I have always chosen the latter one, because I know my father well.
It was after a scrupulous day at school, I had gone out to arena where young gladiators of elementary age often fought. Reasons were silly, sometimes even absurd. I had been a fighter for that peculiar day, for a reason I question to be very preposterous. The fight happened this way:
When we were in a group, Milan exclaimed from nulle, from blue,
"Bire Chor Desh Chod."
Hence I responded him from nulle, from blue, "Oie hamro raja lai chor nabhanta,"
"Chup muji, Bhanchu k garchas, BIRE CHOR DESH CHOD"
"Tai hola muji, je payo tehi nabol hai,"
"BIRE CHOR DESH CHOD?"
Milan?s voice was echoing, it was louder and louder. My temper got fueled with gasoline. Now, gasolines are much expensive so I stay calm, at that ripe age, I was furious. So I headed for a punch. Milan was larger than me; I was a slim skinny boy. After the delivered shot I realized my physical self, then rest is booked in history.
Today I bethink the event; the fight was in no distance my fault. The onus was of my father?s. The day before that vibrant fight, I was also chanting bire mantra. I happened to walk around the house chanting it, I had learned in from a roaring crowd outside. In an incessant manner I kept on repeating, bire chor desh chod and finally the air blew those constant words to my father?s ear. First be smiled, and asked the common question, "who taught you such things?"
I smiled back, "I learned it from bunch of walking people."
Then he asked me to come near him. Near him lied piles and piles of problems, it was not mathematical, it was the problem?s of human hear,t that he was in a desperate to resolve. It was across table, the writings, thick thick books. When I approached him, his arms crawled behind my back and held me tight to himself.
"For Forms of Government let fools contest; whatever is best administered is best?"he said. "Do you know who spoke those words?" he added.
"No" I replied in a bemused state.
"It was stated by, Alexander Pope, a great poet, in his writings essay of man."
Was it his necessity to introduce me to someone great, a poet? I was a child; was it even in my boundaries to outstretch? Those questions I never could answer, but his teachings are remembered by me even today at instants.
He gazed at my innocent eyes and questioned, "Why do you think our king is a thief??
Silence, was my answer. He said, "Birendra is our king, we should respect him, in a mutual manner, and also certainly we should not fear him. He also has kids, like you. He also loves his wife, like I love your mom. He is a man just like you and me"
Before he could continue any further I interrupted, "then why, why is it they call him Chor, desh chod?"
He gave a faint smile, "Remember the lines I taught you earlier" he said.
"People want democracy, so they say such things. Never be swayed away by the wind, they are blowing with mixtures of thousands opinions; not facts. They want democracy now; not that its their need, because others have it. Look, soon they will be left with broken. There is no capability of understanding in our Nepali beings, we have been ruled since, and now if free, we will destroy our own self."
I hearkened those lines, but never understood it. I ask myself sometimes, did he really want me to understand such sentences, complex with no solutions or was it him talking to himself, explaining things to him only?.
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