[Prof. Govinda Raj Bhattarai, PhD (b. 1953) is a poet, novelist and critic of high repute. Professor of English at Tribhuvan University, he retired from his job a few years ago, and has since then devoted himself fully to literary works. He made his debut in writing quite early. His seminal works of repute include novels Muglan, Socrates’ Footsteps and Socrates’ Diary, theoretical non-fictions like Kavyik Andolanko Parichaya (Introduction to Poetic Revolutions) Aakhyanako Uttaradhunik Paryawalokan (Postmodern Study of Fiction), Paschimi Balesika Bachhita (Drops of Western Eaves), Uttaradhunik Aina (Postmodern Mirror), Uttaradhunik Bimarsha (Postmodern Discourses) and Samayabodh ra Uttaradhunikta (Time Consciousness and Postmodernism). He is also among Nepal’s pioneering translators and essayists. Uday Adhikari had a detailed conversation with Prof. Bhattarai. Its edited except is presented herewith.]
I read your first novel Muglan long ago. It was a good reading. I was quite surprised to find Parijat’s beautiful preface there. In many ways, you were lucky to find such encouraging words from one of the best writers of this era. What inspired you to start your literary career with the novel? What made Parijat write a preface to the work of a new writer?
In the adolescent days, one is raw or crude roaming aimlessly like a vagabond. No parents at least in a society like ours are sure of the importance or value of reading and writing especially literature. So hardly do they dream of turning their children into a creative author or writer without any clue. Mine was no different.
But then, I feel there is some kind of drive in every young mind, some deep inkling unexpressed so they keep groping for words, images, and sounds. Like a creeper that gropes for trellis support in the air. Nature teaches every lesson that we need to learn from.
My school days were like that. But my father was a great Pundit and he kept visiting the places like Bhutan, Assam, Sikkim, and Darjeeling. While returning home he brought books by Dharanidhar Koirala or Parasmani Pradhan or others that contained rhythmic songs. Firstly, he sang them for us. While on the distant hills of Panchthar, I had never seen any books because my school hardly had extra books save our textbooks. Once we young boys walked six days and nights to buy them in Ilam while in grade VII.
Then our family migrated to Jhapa to fulfill the desires of my parents – sufficient food and education. My father got me admitted to a high school (Adarsh Vidya Mandir of Ghailaduba, Jhapa) which I think must be heaven for me because I saw a world all golden at the young age of 13. It is there that I satisfied my itch for something unknown by reading a huge lot of Nepali books till I was up to grade ten.
Adarsha Vidya Mandir had an exceptionally good library where one could find any books produced in Nepal or India. The first root for creative venture starts from reading. My seedlings must have sprouted there.
If one does not exercise reading practice and enjoy reading then he cannot visit the new world and he cannot see the new possibilities. He turns the same page again and again. So reading throughout life should be grown like an evergreen tree throughout life. That keeps bearing new fruits every day. That keeps feeding the imagination of a writer. If not an author will eat the same fruit throughout life.
Having appeared in the IA examination from the Secondary Board of Examinations Allahabad in 1972, I returned to Jhapa, my home. I had an opportunity to cultivate my reading habit further at that great center of knowledge that is Banaras as it had great classic libraries everywhere, the universities around, and a large number of writers and poets of Hindi and Nepali literature. I did opt for Hindi in the course which introduced me to selected writers like Munshi Premachand, Amrita Pritam, Bachchan, Dharmavir Bharati, Mahadevi, Subhadra Kumari Chauhan, Jaishankar Prasad, etc. But the knowledge of Nepali was limited.
A craving for literary creation was burning in me. After two years I set out for Kathmandu for earning a higher education. This became news in the district because no ordinary citizen ventured to visit Kathmandu as there was no direct road to Kathmandu. It took me five days to reach it via Saharsha, Poornia, and Raxaul (Indian railway).
Kathmandu, the capital of the Kingdom was an exhilarating place. It was full of literary scenes. Great names I read could be seen around I saw Tana Sharma, Krishnachandra Singh, Dhruba Chandra Shailendra Sakar, and a host of others. It was vivid and bursting. I started writing for journals and papers. Felt excited to be there. Visited the literary hob of Peepalbot every evening. But then I realized nobody accepts you until you have a book.
I had a book in vague unrecognizable draft form, only an outline in my heart. I had seen the horrors of Nepalese youths being sold and bought and penalized in the labor camps and made to work endlessly, running away and captured and deported while Bhutan was building its highways in the northern high hills. During my stay in Bhutan I witnessed the victims and heard their stories, many of them were our relatives as well.
That story revisited my dreams nightly while I came to Kathmandu. I didn’t have any idea about the principles of writing a novel but the plight of the countrymen forced me to put my pen onto paper. During seven days and nights of the summer vacation in 1971, I completed the Eagle Brand notebook. Then one day, I went to Dan Khaling’s place. He lived alone at the corners of Mahabauddha near Wotu of Kathmandu. I knew him through my brother in Banaras. He used to visit Banaras as a proprietor of Sagar Prakashan. I was happy to meet a writer translator and an established critic from Darjeeling. He was already established at the Royal Nepal Academy too. A bachelor, he offered me teas and snacks whenever I visited.
One Saturday, I rushed to Dan Sir’s place and requested him for its preface. He said, “Leave this exercise book with me and visit me next week.” Thanking him for the favor. I rushed to my room at Bhimsenstan. The seven days that followed were so heavy for me.
The following week I again rushed to Wotu. He was home luckily because there was no telephone until then. One of his attendants offered us tea, I sipped it sitting on a floor sofa. Then he said to me, “Gobind Bhaai, this needs proofreading first. For example, you have written ‘pahilo chotee’ (with a long /i:/ at the end) to mean the first time; but the word you have spelled means a mountain peak; so you should write ‘choti’ to mean ‘the first time’. An ignorant youth like me was ashamed. But reading my manuscript Dan sir consoled me, “Brother, I would like to suggest you a better literature whose preface is more valuable. She is my sister Parijat. She lives at Mhaipee of Nayabazar near Balaju. You go to her with this letter and request her for the same.”
Then half desperate, I took leave of Dan Sir, taking an envelope from him.
The following Saturday I went to Parijat’s. I had heard much about her from my friend circle but never seen before. Some of them suggested that I present her with a pack of cigarettes. Then I bought one, forgot the brand, and a fine-tipped ball pen. It took me some time to reach her white-washed room.
She was sitting on her bed, the room filled with bookshelves and it was clean all white. Offered her the packet of gifts. She received it with thanks. Then we had a short conversation. I made it clear in the beginning that I had gone through her novel Sirishko Phool (since it was prescribed as a textbook for B.Ed. Nepali course). Then she interviewed me, “Which political philosophy do you like?”
“Democratic” I didn’t have to hesitate. Had met BP Koirala, Krishna Prasad, and other towering exiles in Banaras. My brother himself, a student leader, activist, and sufferer lived there.
I handed her the notebook and she asked me to visit her in 15 days.
My steps hesitatingly moved towards Mhaipi on the stipulated date. She was sitting on the same bed. She produced three handwritten pieces of white pages from her shelf nearby and read them to me. I was excited when she emphasized that Muglan was the first novel of sheer torture and the story of innocent persons so she read it without stopping for breath literally in a matter of decades. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Excited, I could not stop any longer so I rushed home. But she had made a bitter comment that I could write stories of exploitation and corruption though I had a different belief politically.
Now my Muglan has been translated into English by Lekhanath Sharma Pathak of Linguistics Department of TU and into Assamese by Chhatraman Subba of Tejpur Assam. The English version is prescribed by two universities as a study material. Altogether 37 world cat libraries hold Muglan copies. Even Michael Hutt had long back (in 1998) published an article comparing three Nepali novels Muglan, Basain and Muluk Bahira but Nepali teachers (the course designers) have ever ignored Muglan since beginning. I don’t know why.
There are many writers in your family. How was your childhood like? Was there any inspiration for reading or writing?
Yes, each of the seven brothers of my father was a pundit whose profession was education and religious duties that a traditional village requires. And were considered educated persons in those days. So naturally, our father inspired us by composing moral poems and songs in folk tunes. Besides, he brought us extra books while visiting Darjeeling.
Gradually, my father did inspire us to read books he encouraged us to write poems or epics but we failed. Both of my elder brothers went to Banaras for education. Our eldest brother is the glory of the family and a beacon of light. He earned the degree of PhD. 40 years ago. I also followed him.
I had a good library at my high school in Jhapa. Later on, when I went to Banaras for IA, I found this place a city of books and libraries. Till then almost all Nepali books were printed there. The environment for reading culture was quite favorable. There were writers and politicians, and exiles– everybody reading books and magazines or writing articles or doing seminar s there. Moreover, our eldest brother worked for the press as well. The positive vibes of Banaras inspired me further. And I began to think of creating something in a literary form. But the level of reading was still poor. One does not know properly where to start unless he has some knowledge of criticism in the concerned literary
There was deep craving and unknown desire for literature; so I didn’t go for any other hobbies like sports, games, painting, arts, or music. Just books and imagination. I remember vividly today. I composed a few poem in metrical form without knowing it just in imitation. So I failed naturally because I could not present my poet before the audience.
Your sheer energy for reading and writing makes us jealous in a positive way. Your dedication and devotion to literary activities inspire me a lot. How did you come to literature?
I put my answer to this question earlier too. One thing I must reveal today. After the SLC level examination in 1970, I started buying books and collecting them. First I bought Rambling towards the UK by Tana Sharma. Secondly, I purchased Sajha Samalochna (both in Nepali). But a poor student cannot fulfill all his/her hidden desires that require money.
It was in 1973 that I moved to Kathmandu to earn a Bachelor of Education degree from T U central college of Kirtipur. New Education System Plan had just started. But the nation was ruled by a dictatorial system of the king so dark clouds hovered in the sky. The kingdom was growing crueler arresting people, torturing them, and putting them into jails. Strict censorship discouraged the papers so freedom of expression was almost banned.
But I felt a greater surprise in Kathmandu which was recently connected by the East-West Highway. Studying at the only national university situated there was a matter of great prestige. That too under scholarship. Leaving the poor dusty and muddy villages behind I arrived in Kathmandu the kingdom glimmering with wonders. So many colleges and libraries, book shops, and readers and famed writers like Mohan Koirala, Parijat, Krisghnachnadra Singh, Lain Singh Bangdel, Balakrishna Sama, Siddhicharan Shrestha, Madanmani Dixit, Dharma Raj Thapa, Madhav Ghimire all the greatest names were seen around the new road peepal tree. Many of them like Modanath were in exile. Since then I started writing.
For about three decades, in the thirties, forties, and fifties to be precise, you were fully engaged in teaching. I wonder if the creative writer in you didn’t raise its head from time and again.
My business has extended over the sixth decade as well when I was given the additional responsibility of the dean’s office. The days were horrible. We were threatened and challenged every day. The government army and police guarded throughout the days and nightly Maoists kept watching our activities. On the darkest hours of nights, the doorbell rang and one had to stand at the corner with the amount of money they had claimed through a secret agent.
Horror excites your writer, and excitement, love and anger do so. Writing is the outlet of your emotions, not of mere facts during the calm moments of contemplation. It is the shadow of reality wrapped in the art that is imagination. I spent most of those horrible days sleeplessly because one bears the additional burden of suffering first among his relatives and this feeling of helplessness extends over the innocent countrymen.
After a long time I read your beautifully written essay about the anger that was created by some students’ foolish acts when they torched the department. Your essay “Vishwavidhyalayama Agni Puja” (Fire Ceremony in the University) was a great response to this folly and you created a kind of comeback to the literary field. How do you remember those moments?
Those were the most dreadful days in my life. I was heading the Central Department of Education located at the Central Campus of Kirtipur Kathmandu. The nation was virtually on fire. Almost all of the Power Houses were blasted, the roads were barricaded and traveling was the deadliest of acts. Educational institutions were neither shut down nor running at all. They were the shelters of the revolutionary people. They organized meetings and shouted slogans forcing the campus body to accept anything they demanded.
Again there were factions among students each led by a party. Each party had its cadres and fighters and fire brigades. Each campus had lecturers supporting the cause of one or the other. So campus grounds became places of turmoil and agitation, planning and implementation. In the year 2004 as the results of the students were published it was natural that many of them failed because years had passed in sloganeering.
Then the student leaders demanded that the lecturers should allow them to check their answer sheets and demand an explanation for the marks they were allocated. We didn’t have such a tradition so far and the teachers naturally didn’t support their demands. Obviously, they were scared and felt a great threat.
In reaction, the students set fire to the University printing press which burnt many items into ashes. The building too was scorched and valuable machines were rendered useless. In the evening even the responsible political parties issued a press release that it was a very commendable deed that the students had performed. One can guess how we managed to survive such horrors that attacked us one after the other. The whole system was failing.
After three days students set the academic building of Education for which I was Head—its labs and classrooms and offices on fire. I was on my chair. They closed the door, sprinkled petroleum, and set fire. You can imagine. Luckily the peons forced it open and could pull me out of the office. In no time one could see heaps of charcoal and ashes.
Then I began writing essays that were published serially in the famous paper Kantipur daily. After six months 19 of them were compiled into an anthology titled “Vishwavidyalayama Agnipooja” (The Fire Ceremony at the University). It is surprising to note that the previous year The Central Department of English was set on fire by irate students instigated by politicians. Prof Abhi Subedi was the Head. As a great creative person, he created a book of the drama titled Fire in Monastery. It was staged too.
We could not write things as they were but our technique was metaphoric and indirect. These two works have a site of campus background and the revengeful politics of extortion, threat, and killing. We two managed to survive and express our hearts in those two works though spontaneously.
You have been pleading about the importance of theories for long. Theories were introduced to the English Department, TU in the nineties and a kind of awareness about them among young students began. Many old teachers were not in favor of teaching theories at all as the new course demanded a completely new reading. What interested you in modern theories?
I spent five years of my life at the Central University of Hyderabad struggling to earn a degree of PhD. My wife Anjana and two children too accompanied me. We felt like we arrived at a big city from a small village
The huge libraries there are internationally reputed scholars and supervisors, and the whole university atmosphere is a completely different place without politics. In the city surrounding were eight universities that Nepali scholars kept visiting. The activities there included international seminars, symposia, and conferences, on various topics. We could see a different world where we felt ourselves dwarf craving for a degree only.
I joined the university as a research scholar. My wife Anjana too arrived there in the same capacity. Our respected teacher Jayraj Awasthi had joined the Department the previous year. Through his generosity and love, we earned a space there. My supervisor had been a towering personality in language, literature, linguistics, and Translation Studies especially. To his credit, he had masterpieces produced by famous publishers—books on Sociolinguistics, Translations Studies, poems in Hindi and Maithili, and mainly articles of international repute. He lived in the borders between language and literature, was a great poet in Maithili, and was a scholar of Hindi, and Bengali, already an editor of Sage Publication.
Our Department that is CALTS (Centre for Applied Linguistics and Translation Studies) had many stalwarts. We knew that the new knowledge and education were already interdisciplinary. Scholars denounced compartmentalization.
We kept attending seminars and sometimes trying to present preliminary papers too. I have included a few essays recording some of such experiences in my first collection Eklai Eklai Eklai ( Alone, Alone, All Alone) published in 2004.
I learned some new terms like postmodernism in Hyderabad seminars. We had to study the world’s new trends in language and literature that apply to the language of translation, Translation Studies theory their teaching and learning. The terms related to ‘post’ — postmodernism, post-colonialism, etc., came frequently and having studied those things I wrote a paper on post-feminism which I got published in the Nepal Academy publication later.
In Nepal, our knowledge system was compartmentalized and fully structural that dating back fifty years or more needed revamping to make it in tune with world trends. Though our scholars from the English literary department had begun to indicate that great changes have started taking place. I remember how our gurus like Professors Shreedhar Lohani, MP Lohani, DP Bhandari, YN Khanal, TN Kanskaar, Abhi Subedi, and YP Verma of the Department were at the borderline ready to introduce new concepts but many were still lured by older frames.
Since the 1990s post-Russia proved a historic turning point for world academia. The fundamentalists began to give in and the postmodern possibility of everything mixing and changing began to reveal itself. The structural frames of academia failed, however, ours was a heavy politics dominated controlled by hegemonists who were resistant to change. This situation persists till now.
In Neal majority of intellectuals are simply political workers. They lack freedom of opinion and resist change that does not suit their slogan. Those who praise the dictatorial system believe in the subjugation of grand narratives and teach the same old principles resisting anything newer in the world.
Another point that has guided me is that a university teacher should not be a slave to anything — person or principal. He should be their own master and ruler. Be ready to change because the world’s situations are changing every moment. Moreover, an English teacher should not feel that his duty is limited to the teaching or learning of English. They should keep an eye on their mother tongue as well
This feeling overpowered me since I joined the job of teaching decades ago. So I collected articles from my teacher mates and students and went to Banaras to publish a mouthpiece called Koseli in 1976 and 1977 (two issues) as a Radhika Higher Secondary Teacher of Morang. Again after my transfer to Himalaya Secondary School of Jhapa I edited two issues of Hima Jyoti collecting articles by students and teachers. Thirdly I inspired the local people of Damak in 1979 and got two literary magazines published. After I joined University I inspired friends to publish literary magazines from Dhankuta and consequently Chintan Dhara and Nirman were published.
My deep principle is that we must express ourselves in Nepali and introduce new thoughts to this if we earn anything in English. Novel ideas and philosophies should seep into our language too; otherwise how can we modernize this along with our thoughts?
Most of my books are reflections of these principles. My essays even novels and travelogues bear the motive of bringing the world picture to Nepali minds and freeing them from orthodoxy, fundamentalism, structural setting, and especially the dark political prisons ( of outdated slogans). Everything changes— science, medicine, literature, technology, and politics together. But dogmatism has swallowed so-called political leaders of ours and they are selling outdated tablets. They are the dealers of dogmatic principles, not practices.
Recently I wrote an article on the commemoration of the century of Ramakrishna Sharma in which I reiterated that new lights in Nepali came through the works of some forerunners like Ramakrishna Sharma ( Kalimpong), Yadunath Khnal, Taranath Sharma, Vasudev Tripathi, Abhi Subedi each famed critics. Finally, Govinda Raj Bhattarai wants to find a small niche in this long tradition of 100 years. We were born to serve the nation and her language not English.
This philosophy guided me throughout—be free and free your national language too. Stand close to the world, and discard all that is old and structural. Bearing this I wrote nine books of critical thoughts geared by the world pace of new thoughts in Nepali.
You have been in the field of criticism for a long. Criticism is always a thankless job. Ram Krishna Sharma started it boldly even though he fiercely criticized the veterans of that era. Now it is assumed that our criticism has been turned into a pleasing or displeasing factory only. Have we lost the value of real criticism? I wonder why readers have stopped reading criticism at all. What went wrong?
I am sure you are giving expression to your judgment. Do you have any study report to support your claim? – My question.
Criticism is the manure, not the crop. There should be someone who takes care of others’ crops as well otherwise weeds will swallow everything.
Creation and criticism both are literary works. For thousands of years, these separate strands of literature grow in the same fields. We cannot separate one from the other. As we see literature is reflected in the mirror of criticism.
Sometimes criticism becomes a secondary work, an inferior thing as the critic lacks his creation and proves his or her expertise on the works of others. Therefore, principally, only a poet can translate a poem in the same way as only a creative writer can and should critique others’ works. Sanskrit has a dictum gurbee prashava vedana, that is, a sterile woman does not know the pains of a childbearing mother. But in Nepal, many critics are like the barren woman, they lecture on childbearing pains, and they have defiled this school as well.
The value of criticism will never be reduced but in every field of the literary genres, there are works of higher and lower values. Some of them are of no importance as well. So it depends on who is exploiting whom and what purpose remains behind the work. Misuse of words and the art of sycophancy and the art of baseless attack have existed for ages. Every flower is surrounded by weeds only a few trees bear flowers with a harmless fragrance.
Your novel Sukaratka Paila or ‘Socrates’ Footsteps’ strengthened your step into the field of fiction. Your intellectuality affected it a lot and you missed some natural flow that you applied in Muglan. What made you write such novel after many years of gap?
In fact, it is the third novel, the second one being Manipurako Chitthi (A Letter from Manipur). This was published by Sajha Prakashan in 2034 (1977) three years after Muglan though it was shadowed by Muglan.
This must be a natural process of moving from one step to another. Naturally the more I studied and earned degrees my horizon also must have widened. As Coleridge puts it, I must have earned greater experience at the cost of my innocence. This happens with every creative writer who starts early and broadens his sphere gradually. Education and knowledge leave their stamp.
Multiple forces keep thundering in an author’s mind. Each tries to sprout in the form of a novel or essay or drama or poetry. Only the strongest one comes out. Thus I heard the call of one genre or the other and invested my time accordingly. Ultimately, when the time for the novel came ripe, I started it.
You have produced a beautiful book, Sukaratko Diary (Socrates’ Diary) about the books you have enjoyed. Some enthusiasts who love you so much declared it as fiction which, in fact, isn’t. This book reveals how great a reader you are. How did you develop a voracious reading habit?
In fact, this is the sequel to my novel Socrates’ Footsteps where the ancient Socrates is the hero. Most of the characters are drawn from Socrates’s Footsteps. The Diary is an experimental novel. All the experiments of the new fiction are exemplified in it. So it is difficult to understand. Readers may not find coherence. There is a mixture of genres and departures from structural tradition towards freedom of writing where the genres lose watertight rules gradually.
So far forty critics have written about it (Socrates’ Diary) and two separate books (one edited by Prof. Kumar Koirala and the next prepared by Gyan Bahadur Chhetry of Assam) enlighten the readers. Altogether 260 fiction plus a dozen of philosophical works are referred to in the course of its preparation. Mostly great fictions of the world are mentioned and referred to there.
Naturally, I am an avid reader, I think I am still one. So I own a library which you have seen too. But now it has become very difficult for me to spare moments for a luxurious hobby like reading because writing poses pressure most of the time.
You guided both of your daughters in English writing. Richa produced a beautiful story collection when she was fairly young. You have been reading and writing about Nepali English writing. How do you evaluate our English writing? Where do we really stand?
We knew world knowledge cannot be accessed without a wider language English in our case. Thank God we went for this unknowingly. So our children did follow our footprints. Presently Richa works for the World Bank. Sewa did for the BBC for some years. Now she is a freelancer running an organization of translation (Shabdakarmi) as well. Both our daughters are powerful academic writers though they have not produced collections. I believe no job is more precious and inviting than one related to language function or language art where every word counts and where every sentence is weighed upon where every bit of sense or connotation is loaded with meaning. Where we pray for the art of expression. Our family has a legacy of at least 50 years of creative arts me and my brother started publishing things now we have at least sixteen writers or art workers in it. This has opened up a competitive space for all.
I sold the slogans of better English for decades, also sold students’ guidebooks for English together, participated in international seminars, and conducted the largest NELTA (Nepal English Language Association) seminars in Nepal. I headed it for two terms. I did this as I had a dream of improving the situation of English in Nepal. But often we romanticize reality. Now English schools are earning this position but at the cost of Nepali culture and tradition. Globalization is obliterating half of our face and the other half being fulfilled by the English medium of education.
South Asia’s world literature position shows that India, Sri Lanka Pakistan, and even Afghanistan have made a name in the international literary market. But they have had many centuries of English practice in translation and creative arts. Likewise, we too must practice creative works in English and access the international market if we are to follow but this is likely to mislead us surely. Because contemporary English is mixed up with the digital lifestyle unlike that of the olden days when R K Narayan and Mulkraj Ananda and Raja Rao made use of it. We need a strong nationalist leader who can advocate for the Nepali language without undermining the need for English. I am worried to know that our position is in dilemma. An all-sweeping flood is ready to wash our identity away.
You have translated a lot and been promoting the culture of it at your best. Despite such efforts, it seems translation has not reached anywhere. What are we lacking?
We have not contributed anything to the field. It is hardly two decades since Translation Studies as a discipline was first introduced in limited courses in Nepal. And hardly 15 years back has a Department of Translation been initiated at Nepal Academy. They have started awarding translation valuable prizes for two years. These traditions have histories of three hundred years in India Pakistan Sri Lanka and now they could produce works like Geetanjali Shree’s Tomb of Sands. Many Indian writers have materialized the dreams of harvesting knowledge of English. One important cause behind our backwardness is that the plants of modern education have not started yielding fruits. We can compare our gardens with those of our neighboring people.
But we should not be desperate. We have started showing our worries and concerns. They started giving translation prizes 26 years after Indian Nepali writers were honored with translation awards. The roots of our education system are quite young. Literary culture is not yet established properly. Sometimes we are hasty to catch you with the pace of civilization so we might look immodest too. Because our foundation is weak and shaky.
You composed your second novel Manipurko Chitthi, again set in a place in the eastern part of India. Your first novel was about Bhutan and your second India, both places where Nepali origin people inhabit and seekers of work from Nepal often visit. I wonder why you chose foreign places for the setting of your first two novels.
Well, I have made it clear regarding the setting of the first novel Manipurko Chitthi (A Letter from Manipur). The very title allows people a scope to guess that its setting (locale) must be Manipur a state in the northeastern region of India. But one cannot tell the real situation until one has read the book thoroughly. My first novel (Muglan) starts with Chyangthapuko Kalidadabata…That is from the place called Kalidada of Chyangthau which lies on the eastern border of the Panchthar district of Nepal. It is close to Sikkim with high passes on the hill.
All characters Muglan move to Darjeeling of India for selling village products and shopping household goods carrying on their backs. But as they reach the glimmering town they become wild with excitement. Suddenly their innocence gropes to find an unknown land extended further and wish to move further to have a look at it. After that, they are bought and sold to the brokers as laborers without their knowledge.
The word Muglan is a kind of El Dorado for the Nepalese people in the hills. The youths are duped and fetched to an unknown land and they are fastened by the ropes of hope throughout the novel, there is a dream of earning money and returning homeland and ending the troubles but failing to do so. This makes the fictional tragedy a reality. Innumerable friends, relatives, and villagers of ours used to stay in Bhutan. Some stayed and others moved back home. My parents too returned after 20 years of stay there. Thus Nepalese people are always tracking new routes to unknown lands and moving constantly for centuries.
So the word ‘danda’ which is hill has a special reference in the east. Dada katnu means to pass the hill, cross the mountain or go beyond a familiar place which may be a foreign land and/or Muglan. This has become a myth. If you are desperate with staying in the mountains you cross the path that takes you beyond the familiar places. Where you get lost because these are filled with motors and trains. Moreover, people speak different tongues, eat different food, and wear different dress-it’s a daring deed. In our case, one leaves the familiar homeland for two reasons — firstly for some new jobs and adventure or as a seller and buyer of goods, and secondly to escape social stigma, disgrace, or humiliation in the homeland (or one’s social milieu). Poverty forces people to leave their native place, there is exploitation and casteism, and other kinds of oppression when a man loses social security, and that makes living torturous.
In Muglan my characters are of the first type and in the Munipurako Chitthi they are of the second type. If one is a political rebel or thief or burglar or eloper or murderer they could easily escape the stigma or punishment by crossing the border. Both these are long traditions in Nepal. So the phrase ‘Muglan bhasinu’ that is literally to get submerged or get lost in Muglan is a common collocation among us. Many literary works have already been created on this theme. For instance, Basain of Lil Bahadur Chhetry depicts a badly exploited destitute family that migrates to an unknown land. Similarly, the characters in Muluk Bahira are workers and laborers in both cases exploited in society and compelled to leave the country. Lil Bahadur’s next classic fiction Brahmaputrakaa Chheuchaau (Around the Brahmaputra) also shows how the migrated Nepalis are lost in the search for some job or vocation. Muglan came 18 years after Basain.
Behind the Nepalese people’s movement or migration, mainly to India or other parts of Asia, there is a philosophy dating back a thousand years. They have trickled over years and now nearly one crore population resides as Indian citizens, Burmese or Thai, or Bhutanese or Tibetan who have lost the traces of the past, and so do the people of Indian origin in Nepal. Some came trace their roots others cannot. This kind of exchange between China and Nepal is also reciprocal. Let’s study Devkota’s Muna-Madan or Dor Bahadur Bista’s Sotala. These tell the stories of the interior borders in the north where Nepalis have lived for innumerable generation. People keep creating stories after one established set of myth or belief. For example, Hariraj Bhattarai has recently produced a novel called Yangsheela in which the 14th century characters move to Peking under the leadership of Aranko, a most famous Nepal sculptor in order to build a royal palace there. It is a mutual process. To know the philosophy behind the migration process of Nepalis to India one should study various socio-political literary interpretations. One such example is a study by Michael Hutt titled “Literary Representations of Migration to India and Bhutan.” (South Asia Research, vol. 18, no. 2, 1998, pp.195-214).
I hope this background will enlighten the audiences regarding the background locales to my novels—first Muglan and second Manipurko Chitthi. In each case, it should be borne in mind that such (diasporic) novels have necessarily two or more settings. Settings provide the writer with scope for movement for the journey. They may hostile atmosphere on the way or at the place they land. These may include differences in culture, geography, history law language. These are grounds for conflict or the movement of the story. We find at least two settings in V S Naipaul’s works. The works of Rushdie, Jhumpa Lahiri, Chitra Banerjee, Arvind Adiga, Rohintom Mistry, and a hundred more writers not only Indian but African or Japanese or Chinese whoever writes diasporic stories will surely have diasporic settings two or three. Not only Hisham Matar or Ishiguro but nearly one-third of works of world literature has this. Even many Nepali creations mainly travel accounts have this. I just wrote an introduction to Rita Pradhan’s Diasporic Stories of US Nepal settings. Another important piece of fiction by Mukti Baral (Padachinha Pachhyaaudai in press) is a travel history of people from Nepal to Burma, again Banaras to Assam, Manipur, etc.
The setting in my second novel is the plains land of Nepal. It is the district of Jhapa, a village called Damak. We have lived there for more than 5o years ago. There was a small village at the confluence of two rivers Ratuwa and Chaanju. It was always struck by floods the sandy land was settled by the poor peasants and the workers under the rich landowners. There was a Kami Gaun much-ignored village of blacksmiths. During the flood season, they spent whole nights in fear of the floods. They gathered together and played the madal the whole night in fear.
There was a young Kami man believed to be untouchable in those days. There was also a Brahmin woman married to a Brahmin but the husband being impotent bore no children. A love story developed between them and secretly they crossed the border which means dada katnu and went to Manipur. Many years later the woman’s people came to know of this and communication was established. The letters between the woman and her brother back home exchange information runaways improved their life there. It is a form of letter exchange. It is a rare epistolary novel in Nepali.
Manipur was a real land, unlike Muglan. But it was regarded as a shelter for my characters. It was a shelter for our society too. Where you don’t have tortures that result due to casteism in Hindu society. I had never seen the land but had pictured it as described by many of our relative visitors and returnees of Manipur. I was a bit ashamed of the story too. It was a psychological story of a woman’s revolt against the caste system. But I felt I was quite immature at the age of 22 when I wrote the novel in Damak Jhapa. I was a schoolteacher at Himalaya Secondary High School. Discussing matters like the woman character’s unfulfilled sexual desire was a matter of shame to a person unmarried like me. But then I completed and forwarded the manuscript to Sajha Prakashan in Kathmandu. It was published the same year as a pocket novel but Sajha’s morbid situation has half killed my novel too.
After 49 years of its publication ( three editions so far) I could visit Manipur last November for the first time but the readers there were in belief that I had visited the land before. Mahesh Kharel’s article on Manipurako Chitthi is a very serious study to appear in an article form soon.
You have done a lot of work in the field of translation. You not only translated a lot of things but also tried to establish a strong translation foundation. What are the challenges of translation? What is your personal experience of it?
Translation principles, processes, and products go together. Without principles or theories, one cannot measure the following two. Mere products and processes linger in limbo. Literary translation is considered the most difficult to achieve and measure. Literature follows criticism which discusses the application of literary theories. In the same way, translation theories and criticisms decide the worth of translating.
Nepal followed translation processes only. In Nepal, a lot of western literature was translated in the first half of the 20th century because writers like Laxmi Prasad Devkota realized the importance of translation for the promotion of national literature. He emphasized two levels of translation—from Nepali to English and mainly from English to Nepali. Through Prometheus he introduced Greek mythology and through the transcreation of Shakuntal, he revived ancient Indian literature. Much of his energy was spent in translating, and transcreation works from the Indian past as well the west including Greek mythology. But without any theoretical foundation, he worked with his followers so Nepal Academy has translated many world classics so far.
But the translator should know the changing trends of translation in the world. First, we needed a record or Directory of Translators. I prepared this as a three-year project for Nepal Academy. The result is Anuvadak Parichaya Kosh which includes 720 translators altogether who have worked for Nepali. Secondly, I edited a huge volume called the first Reference Book of Translation Studies for Nepali readers which presents facts such as Translation Prizes, Translation Journals, Translation History, Type, etc. It also includes the introduction to the Translation Prize winners of Nepali translators in India. That’s great a remarkable achievement.
I must make it clear that I did lay the foundation of Translation Studies in Nepal by Introducing Translation Studies at University Courses, Convincing Nepal Academy to open a new Department of Translation after 60 years of its inception, convincing the Academy to initiate a biannual translation prize worth two lakh, preparing situations for the enrolment of students for Ph.D. research in Translation Studies (six so far), encouraging international seminars and publications in Translation. In this way, at least a background has been made. From this, translation activities need to grow. In order to prove that I have been involved in the act of translation activities, I would like to make an excerpt from my Bio Data page which will show that out of 62 books published so far, 17 are English and Translation-related works as below:
My Works in English
a. An Introduction of Linguistics (1985), Ratna Pustak Bhandar
b. Methods of teaching English (1986), Ratna Pustak Bhandar
c. An Interdiction to Literature (1987), Ratna Pustak Bhandar
d. An Introduction to Translation Studies (2000) Ratna Pustak Bhandar
e. Pilgrimages (Collection of Essays, Ed. Sajan Kumar) (2016) Oriental Publication
My translations from Nepali into English
a. Selected Nepali Essays (2003); Publisher: Jiba Lamichhane
b. Selected Stories from Nepal (2004); Publisher: Sajha Prakashan
c. Stories of Conflict and War (2007); Publisher: GR Bhattarai for NELTA
d. Declaration of a New God (2008) Translations of Gopal Parajuli’s Naya Ishwarko Ghoshana. Publisher: Nepalese Literature Development Counil, UK.
e. Contemporary Nepali Poems (2013); Publisher: Nepal Academy
f. Bhanubhakta’s Nepali Ramayana (Awaiting publication as proposed by SAARC Cultural Centre, Sri Lanka.)
My translation from English into Nepali
a. Hani Nagaraun (2006), translation of Mary B. Anderson’s Do No Harm, ed. 1999.
b. Gandhi (2066), translated from the English collection Gandhi for the British Council.
c. Purviya Sabhyata: Vishwabikhyat Vidwanharuko Dhristima (2069), translation of Saleel Gyawali’s Great Minds in India. Publisher: Oriental Publication.
My works translated into Nepali (by other translators)
a. Anuvad Adhyayan Parichaya (2064), Translation of An Introduction to Translation Studies. Translator: Balaram Adhikari. Publisher: Ratna Pushtak Bhandar.
b. Aaradhana (a collection of essays, 2076). Translation of Pilgrimages. Trans: Teknath Dhakal. Publisher: Oriental Publication.
My works translated into other languages by other translators
a. Socrates’ Footsteps (2010), English translation of my novel Sukaratka Paila Bal Ram Adhikari (Oriental Publication)
b. Muglan (2012), English Translation of my novel Muglang by Lekhanath Sharma Pathak (Oriental Publication
c. Muglan (2023) Assamese translation of my novel by Chhatraman Subba of Tejpur, Assam ( in press).
The word ‘translation’ itself is a symbol of challenge. It has been compared with Janos, the headed Greek God. One head turns towards its origin or root the next one turns towards the end which is root culture and host culture. They never meet as they turn in two opposite directions. The translator’s role is to bring them as close as possible.
Setting up an atmosphere favorable for translation was difficult. The 25 years following my Ph.D. study allowed me time for working toward its setting – writing, translating, attending seminars, and supervising PhD. level students by convincing the fundamentalist scholars in favor of it. There are still structuralist teachers and my students who cannot see the importance of Translation Studies and stand against its syllabus. Because this demands new study and a new outlook on the world. But there are hardly any universities any Academic institutions without Translation courses and activities in the world. Among the Nobel Prize-winning books only 35 percent of have been original creations, others are in translation (a study carried out by Bal Ram Adhikari has shown this). I had to spend three decades fighting and convincing the fundamentalists. Isn’t this a challenge? Thanks to the five doctoral students as below:
i. Naba Raj Nyaupane, Pokhara
ii. Bal Ram Adhikari Kathmandu
iii. Hari Kamali, Shyangja
iv. Shalikram Timsina, Lalitpur and
v. Toyanath Koirala, Shyanja (awaiting viva voce)
This is an investment period. They will produce more. Translation like creative art is a humanitarian act so the structuralists don’t know its value. I see a golden future if this pace is carried out. But we need a national institution and a journal of translation in order to write the history of the past present and future of Translational Activities in Nepal so that we can have a link up with the world. They truly call this an old lamp that gives new lights.
When I visited your place once, I found you among the piles of books. Before visiting, I knew how you had been enjoying your time since retirement. You love books, and you want to enjoy world literature. You have followed some Nobel Prize winners by heart. I always wonder who Bhattarai sir’s favorite authors are. Would you like to share some of your favorite books with our readers?
It’s a great and exciting question, Bhai. I could have spent weeks narrating the experience so that our readers could get something of me or my reading. But the whole winter I am in Damak of Jhapa, with a laptop and a few trunkfuls of books. These are not the ones that I drew inspiration from. All my best books are shelved at Tyanglaphant, Kathmandu. I cannot keep you waiting for two months now so let’s manage with whatever I could speak for you this time.
Excited by reading I have mentioned different themes of 260 world classics (mainly fiction) in my Nepali novel Sukaratko Diary (Socrates’ Diary 2014). This is experimental and I believe there is no comparison to this in Nepali literature. But since it is controlled by the traditionalists they cannot appreciate any newness that lies beyond their horizon, beyond their political perspectives.
I have written 18 long articles cum papers on novels like Modiano’s Dora Bruder (based on the aftermath of Hitlerian horror 1944), and Svetlana’s Voices from Chernobyl horrors that resulted from the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster, etc. These and other literary discussions will make a book focused mainly on world literature. Let’s wait until it goes to the printing press. This also includes some papers on world literature.
Also, one more book awaiting publication is a collection consisting of my presentations on the Translation Studies area. For which I have struggled two whole decades to prove something.
I spent much of my income on books, and much of my time reading them. But I soon realized that if you are simply a voracious reader and don’t produce anything and if you don’t put on paper anything it is simply the bundles of grasses that a hungry ox eats and defecates. So one should read half the time available and write whatever another half of the time.
I am not discussing my favorite books today.
Thanking you very much for your pertinent questions Uday Bhai. If you feel there is a gap you can come again.
Tuesday 7th February 2023
Damak 1 Jhapa Nepal