‘Literature can be a premium resource for refining a nation or a society’s awareness, a vehicle for cultural advancement. I feel that writers should aspire to achieve a holistic understanding by studying various circumstances in order to move society towards civility,’ Shyam-ji was saying.
A contemporary poet interjected, ‘This is where your opinion diverts from ours. Literature’s goal is not limited to what you just said; that is one of several goals. Apart from taking a society forward or backwards, literature’s goal is also to facilitate the expression of internal mystical experiences, Shyam-ji.’
Saying, ‘Well,’ Shyam-ji rose from his chair and headed towards the door to spit out phlegm. About ten of us—a few contemporary poets, a couple of writers, a journalist, a couple of section officers, an economist, and a literature-lover—were gathered around Rashmi restaurant’s round table. We met here regularly every day, as if the restaurant’s round table was explicitly reserved for our meetings. The economist called a boy and placed an order, ‘Gopal, bring one round of tea.’
By this point, Shyam-ji, after spitting and wiping his mouth, was already back in his chair. He began to clarify, ‘I don’t know everything but I know this very well. Modern words narrate the present; by embracing current issues, they embrace people. Because every generation announces itself in its own style, our contemporary literature should contain an impactful, analytical expression of hopes, wishes and upheavals in our lives brought forth by contemporary problems. A compassionate take, not a disparaging stance—that would be literary transgression.’
I also asked, ‘Shyam dai, what do you think of our contemporary poems?’
He responded in his usual grave tone, ‘There’s a lot of ambiguity in our modern poems these days, which is a sign of immaturity.’
Another contemporary poet banged the table with his hand as a precursor to his response, ‘No. Understanding requires study. Contemporary poems can’t be comprehended without developing the mind. Our poems are not meant for now; their importance will be realised after a few years only.’
The economist questioned, ‘Then why publish them now? Why not keep it to yourself after writing and publishing when the timing is optimal?’
But another friendly poet said, ‘Don’t say that. He meant that the general public may not grasp them. But contemporary intellectuals will be able to appreciate our poems.’
Shyam-ji was unfazed by these comments. Using his characteristic tone, he resumed, ‘A literary portrayal won’t be complete simply by expressing romance or dissatisfaction. Writers, as visionaries, ought to carefully analyse their own aspirations and resolutions; they must offer beneficial ideals to their country and society. If not, a society gets ruined; by that I mean, instead of goodwill, it might bring negativity.’
‘Let’s assume that instead of being literary, writers are simply advisors or regulators,’ someone offered his unsolicited opinion.
‘Is that right, Guru?’ someone else retorted.
The literary friend twisted his lips and uttered, ‘Maybe. My mouth feels a bit dry though, preventing me from speaking.’ He was referring to tea. When a few others brought up the idea of another round, Gopal was instructed to bring them.
I was eager to hear as much as I could from Shyam dai because at a recent gathering of poets, he had clashed with a few contemporary poets regarding the value of contemporary literature. Since he was in a chatty mood, I began taking advantage of the opportunity, ‘So what you mean is that literature should be created exclusively for social welfare?’
‘Yes, whether for society or nation, literature ought to provide relief from toxic environments, a task more suited to writers than to politicians. Writers should not ignore the outlook of their nation.’
‘What do you mean by a nation’s outlook? Is there a definition?’ A friend asked.
Another friend, known for his frivolity, exclaimed, ‘Our nation’s outlook or stance might refer to the same Himalaya, cows, and the tendency to insert the danfe bird in stories and poems; and someone carrying the traditional doko basket wearing the traditional Bhadgaunle cap. Considering our nation’s standpoint presupposes a writer’s inherent dependencies in these symbols for expression.’
Everyone chuckled but I managed to suppress my giggles and in a sombre tone, said, ‘Aye Guru, you tend to turn others’ opinions into jokes. So, Shyam dai, why don’t you tell us what you think?’
Shyam dai was never affected by his immediate environment. He always expressed himself sincerely, regardless of whether his thoughts were received well or not. He never performed. The tea arrived at the table and everyone received their cup. But Shyam-ji said, ‘My stomach feels a bit gassy and unsettled; perhaps tea is not a good idea,’ and began saying, ‘A nation’s stance is connected to a citizen’s personal development. A coherent national standpoint will cultivate confident citizenry. Attempts to describe a nation’s stance are related to the importance given to the country or its societies. One can’t achieve anything only by discussing foreign literature and depending on others.’
Someone asked for a cigarette and someone else fished out a packet of Charminar [cigarettes] from a pocket but he was not satisfied, ‘My throat is feeling somewhat itchy. Let’s have some Capstan [more expensive cigarettes].’
‘Forget about Capstan; let’s chat a bit. Conversation is what’s tasty. Why consume tea or cigarettes? And why are you silent? Let’s chat some more.’
The one requesting Capstan responded with a chuckle, ‘Conversation should be organic, not forced. I’m not in a chatty mood today. My head feels heavy. Let’s listen to Shyam-ji.’ This speaker was a famous writer of stories, plays and poems.
Another friend, unable to dismiss Shyam-ji’s take on foreign literature, asked, ‘In your opinion, our literature should not include references to foreign literature, right?’
‘Some degree of reference is acceptable but works that tend to imitate won’t be original in this world. Literature should have its own style and structure. How can a writer comprehend worldly sorrows if they can’t grasp their own objective condition? If one is acquainted with the world and can still stand firmly as a Nepali, only then will they receive global respect; perhaps that kind of output will also be novel and impactful, because novelty contains modernity and this is where a writer’s original essence sparkles.’
‘Hyaa, always talking about literature! My head is hurting. There are other topics too; why don’t you bring them up?’ The economist was irritated.
‘Why don’t you use this energy to order another round of tea?’ That was the funny friend again.
The restaurant began to get crowded because of the intermission at Ranjana cinema theatre. At a square table, a few people were talking about football. They kept mentioning Sankata and NRT.
From a hole inside the restaurant’s distant window, the owner was supervising the customers and the boy. Our round table was littered with empty cups, innumerable cigarette stubs, torn packets of Charminar, and a couple of newspapers. Colourful fish were floating inside an artificial pond in one corner. The black coating of a small Buddha statue in the middle of that pond was shining in the electric light. Gopal arrived right then and asked, ‘Should I bring another round of tea?’
‘Yes,’ I said and made a request to my friends, ‘Don’t say this hurts your head. I’m having such a good time. We can leave after I ask a couple more questions to Shyam dai. It’s also getting late. You were probably calculating some budget all day so let yourself lighten up with this literary meditation. What do you say?’
‘Perhaps,’ the economist said, indicating his appreciation for literature and became quiet. Because people tended to trust him, he often refrained from expressing his opinions and resolutions in a group setting. Although neutrality was his policy, he was becoming increasingly knowledgeable regarding literary history, so I asked him to say something. But dodging my request, he said, ‘Just ask Shyam-ji.’
‘Ok then, Shyam dai, why don’t you answer—Will Nepali literature prosper or not?’
‘What are you talking about? It will indeed prosper. But this ongoing confusion is unfortunate. I feel that Nepali literature’s prosperity depends on reciprocal goodwill and decency but sadly, that kind of atmosphere hasn’t been facilitated yet. Compared to the past, the current trend is more expansive but still a lot needs to be done.’ That was Shyam dai’s response.
‘The Academy probably has something to do with this?’
‘What can I say? The tasks outlined by the Chancellor haven’t been implemented yet. People are generally demoralised and despairing due to Devkota’s agitated tears at his deathbed; the internal rivalry amongst Academicians and complaints by writers who are not part of the Academy. I worked with the communications department hoping to address these issues but couldn’t succeed. I respect the Academy but it’s regrettable that there hasn’t been as much support as literature deserves.’
Someone asked, ‘Can you comment on Madan Puraskar as well?’ I also mumbled my support for this request.
We began drinking tea and Shyam-ji began to speak, ‘Madan Puraskar has been encouraging writers. There are all kinds of rumours but Madan Puraskar hasn’t snubbed or insulted those invested in literature. Neither is there a ploy to consolidate influence by creating rivalries amongst writers. There might be some criticism but nothing that affects us directly.’
‘Shyam-ji, hope you don’t mind me asking this!’ someone exclaimed. ‘Was the propaganda you wrote for the radio part of your job or did you write that conscientiously for the sake of literature?’
He responded with a stoic expression, ‘I wrote it conscientiously. Everyone ought to respect their nation. I wrote the promotional play with that in mind. Because we have our man of the era, Shree Paanch [His Majesty], fulfilling our nation’s wish, I felt compelled to compose those lines. I didn’t write that just for the job or to earn money. I don’t jot a single word unless I’m utterly convinced. The aforementioned promotional play contains genuine expressions of my personal sorrows and struggles. The current publicity espouses my wish for Nepal’s future to be beautiful, something that’s appropriate for every writer.’
‘Are you satisfied now?’
‘Yes, Yes I am. Now, let’s go.’
‘Yep, getting late.’
‘Oh no. The movie is over.’
‘All this literary artistic philosophical talk is just pretentious.’
‘Perhaps.’
Various comments from various friends. Everyone abruptly rose. Since I wasn’t completely satisfied, I told Shyam-ji, ‘I’ll come to your home tomorrow.’
