‘There is no one whom I particularly dislike.’

This essay is from Srasta ra Sahitya, the prize-winning anthology of Uttam Kunwar’s interviews with thirty-five prominent Nepali writers. More than a dozen of the interviews translated into English by Niranjan Kunwar had previously been published in ‘The Record’ and can be accessed here

This newly translated essay based on an interview with Mahendra Bir Bikram Shah marks the revival of this project and we intend to release a new essay every month. This link provides more context about the project’s background.

Anything written presently is considered modern; although some maintain that literature prepared especially for future generations is modern. Perhaps it’s more appropriate to state that writing that captures the current zeitgeist is modern. Literary projects based on a writer’s life experiences which connect to the general public’s aspirations, and are realized in a creative way; the kind of projects that enrich humanity can be categorized as either modern or contemporary. But if modernity only embraces science but rejects ancient wisdom, I’m not sure how humanity will benefit—it’s time to think about that.’

That was a response to my question, ‘What are your considerations regarding modern literature?’ I had another curiosity: ‘Now that you’ve clarified your stance on modern literature, what is literature for? For the sake of art or for society? Or both? Can you please illuminate me?’

‘We talked about modern literature and its purpose. Now, regarding the way our literary trends are progressing, are they happening appropriately or would you say it’s lost its way? To put it simply, are you okay with the way at which Nepali literature is progressing?’

A smile appeared on his face, somewhat dire. But there were no words. Total silence enveloped the room. Sporadic sounds of motor engines arrived from a distance and subsided just as swiftly.

I started to listen: ‘I said this already. Literature ought to be composed creatively for the general public. Sometimes I wonder whether it’s moving in chaotic directions. Some zealous young writers get enthused only when they are able to present harsh criticism or anti-traditional sentiments as literature. While composing literary works, writers ought to first honor one’s country and citizens, and only after doing so, venture beyond. One more thing—if literature is equated only with hopeless expressions, one can’t achieve complete fulfillment. Isn’t it normal for anyone alive to be somewhat hopeful or at least work on engendering hope?’

I was getting the kind of response that befitted my question. Since I’d already asked a few, I wasn’t nervous anymore. As the number of my questions increased, my initial awkwardness decreased. The conversation I have reported so far does not illustrate the person I was facing; neither does it indicate the kind of room I was in.

Actually, I was inside a building that is ordinarily referred to as a ‘royal palace’. In a room inside this palace, I was in front of someone whose personality is not merely limited to their personhood, but is actually an aggregate of various significant personalities. A personal aspect of this very important personality who, in turn, represents an essential Nepaliness, is ‘His Majesty Shree Paanch King Mahendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev’ but instead of facing His Majesty, I was in fact facing Nepal’s popular poet and lyricist Shree Ma Bi Bi Shah.

This seemingly ordinary room was decorated with a touch of artistry. Shah-ji was sitting on a sofa in one corner and I was sitting on another sofa placed near another corner. Hanging on a wall was a brilliant example of Nepali art. There were other artworks hanging on other walls. A lamp and a desktop calendar with its stand were placed on a table. On several spots inside the room, various bulbs and lamps shone brightly. But the expression of the person sitting in front of me was quite serious. In fact, he mostly maintained a calm facade. Across the room, a striking bookcase, befitting his demeanor, revealed a collection of world-famous literature; a few copies seemed to be missing, perhaps taken out for personal study.

Disrupting the momentary silence, I asked him again, ‘Are politics and literature separate?’ This was an impulsive question. I might have been abrupt but he proceeded to respond in a serene manner, ‘They are separate, unless connected by a subject or a context. Their existence depends on different principles. Politics is concerned with daily material issues, whereas literature explores strong ideals and deep values. That’s why these are two different disciplines. But then, circumstances don’t improve without the influence of an ideal or a value. That’s why, in this democratic Panchayat system that doesn’t include multiple political parties, these two disciplines are intertwined.’

Even before he was done, I remembered a question I should have brought up earlier. I had asked about his views on modern literature but I forgot to ask him about literature in general. So I did: ‘What is literature, really?’

He responded, ‘Any sort of textual expression that captures myriad human experiences and is presented creatively with the goal of uplifting humanity can be considered literary. But I feel that comparing literature to politics is like stepping on an item with your feet, an item that should be on your head. Whether filled with optimism or pessimism, literature ought to guide a society towards a path of goodness.’

I wanted to explore an emerging theme: how should literature relate to various worldviews and diverse belief systems? I didn’t want to forget again, the way I’d done earlier regarding contemporary literature and general literature. So I chimed in, ‘I heard from you regarding the relationship between literature and politics. Could you please also elaborate on how literature is connected to religion; or to ethics?’

A smile preceded his response. ‘Literature and religion both have similar goals—to protect and propagate humanity; that’s why literature is naturally enmeshed with religion…’

‘And what is religion?’ I dared to interrupt him.

But the answer was delivered in a similarly soft and serious tone, ‘Any kind of rule or principle meant to discipline every moment of our daily life in an ethical way can be understood as religion—something that gets manifested by our trust in God. This topic often causes awkwardness; rather than endless discussion, I feel that it might be more beneficial to experience it. And I won’t attempt to present a concrete definition of such a complex concept. Better to leave that job for intellectuals.’

‘And what about literature and ethics–’

‘I wasn’t done. Ethics, like religion, is also an inseparable part of our lives. That’s why literary projects should definitely highlight ethics in a major way. If, in the course of our daily lives, ethical considerations are neglected, it’ll adversely affect society. That’s why I referred to the parallel between traditional wisdom and modern science earlier. If we put all our trust in science, I can’t say that instead of divinity, we might discover demons. Similarly, in our contemporary lives, if we embrace scientific knowledge along with traditional wisdom, everyone will prosper, and we won’t fall behind regarding ethical issues as well. Only then will we achieve peace and satisfaction. Otherwise, none of us will be able to contend with current challenges such as the black market, expensive diseases, hunger, indifference, illiteracy, partiality and passivity. That’s why, these days, every Nepali has to grapple with all of that while making plans to move forward. Not doing so is tantamount to regressing.’

‘Now if I may switch gears—Regarding Nepali literature and its development, what do you consider to be your primary contribution?’

‘Nepali literature has been developing since the time of Suvananda Das, or His Majesty the Great Prithvi Narayan Shah; or even before then. Later, folks like Birendra Keshari, Dharnidhar, Surya Bikram Gyawali, Bal Chandra Sharma, Dillii Raman Regmi, B.P., Bal Krishna Sama, Laxmi Prasad Devkota, Siddhi Charan Shrestha, Bhikchhu, Bhim Nidhi, Ratna Dhwoj Joshi, Shyam Das Vaishnav, et cetera tended the field, fertilizing and weeding, taking great care to bring it to its current state. These days, literature is flourishing; I don’t need to repeat that. People like Madhav Prasad Ghimire, Kedar Man “Byathit”, Dharma Raj Thapa, Janardan Sama, Kiran Kharel, and Laxman Lohani are still contributing. In this context, it might be better if someone else evaluates my contribution to literature. But if the hundred or so songs I have penned end up as one part of this massive literary monument being constructed these days, I’ll be content. Also, we probably won’t forget someone like Shree Gopal Pande, quietly and consistently attempting to uplift Nepali language and literature. And there are various contemporary Nepali poets and writers; if I name each of them, it might fill a book.’

‘I almost left out a fundamental query. How did Shah-ji get introduced to literature?’

Ma Bi Bi Shah-ji responded, ‘Nepal’s natural beauty stimulated my literary sensibilities. I often felt this desire to write, to express an emotion. Gradually, a series of incidents in my personal life provided the impetus to write and the result is displayed for all to see.’

‘When did you write your first piece?’

‘Probably sometime in 1947. That was the year I began to attempt writing.’

‘How many have you written so far?’

‘Regarding literature, in the form of books, I’ve only produced Usaiko Lagi and Pheri Usaiko Lagi. Apart from these, I’ve been writing random lyrics now and then.’

‘Do you have a special plan to write anything in the future?’

‘If I get an opportunity, they might get realized in the future.’ That was perhaps the shortest response in this interview.

‘What’s your favorite song out of all the ones you have penned?’

‘Whatever I write—it’s because I have found some kind of value and import in the expression. I consider the ones most appreciated by the public and the readers to be my best work.’

‘And who are your favorite writers?’

‘I don’t want to single anyone out. When I contemplate, I find myself relating to everyone. Depending on circumstances and subject matter, there is no one whom I particularly dislike. It’s also possible that I lack discernment.’

Another question in my sequence of questions, ‘Is there a particular time of day you prefer to write? Say, when you mostly get in the mood?’

‘I’m not sure about this idea of ‘getting in the mood’. Usually, I get inspired by the sunrise. It may not be inappropriate to state that everyone’s mood is somewhat dependent on inspiration. Perhaps mood is linked to experience, to the state of one’s psychology. I tend to respect the past, work in the present and consider the future. Actually, I’m struggling to find the right words to talk about this concept of “mood”.’

This tranquil conversation between two people was abruptly interrupted by an alarm clock; perhaps the time allocated for this interview was coming to an end. So I was compelled to begin wrapping up. I focused on maximising the allocated time—‘Have you faced any obstacles from the administration in regards to your writing career? And did you receive encouragement from anyone?’

He was quite articulate: ‘One can make a thousand excuses; but if someone is truly determined, they can accomplish anything. I feel that if a living being dares to dream, every obstacle will vanish. And I’m not talking only of literary contexts—this can be applied to any project or attempt. And encouragement is not really necessary. I have a neutral stance; it doesn’t matter whether one receives it or not. It’s all relative, you see. One should get encouraged by one’s own beliefs, not by relying on someone else’s. When embarking on a worthy task, no use worrying about the results as long as one is being responsible.’

Born about 47 years earlier within the luxurious confines of the royal palace, he has been intent on making a mark in Nepali history. Yet, this very busy man has been successfully able to capture the public’s sensibility in his poems, attracting admiration from many. Despite leading a comfortable, regal life, his expressions include details and sentiments of common people living along old town alleys. He might have never ventured to these neighborhoods, so it’s truly admirable that he is able to use his imagination so potently.

In Nepal, it’s not unusual for a poet to be born to a royal family. Before Ma Bi Bi Shah-ji, Shree Pratap Malla and Shree Paanch Rajendra Bikram Shah had already tried their hand at literature, but they were not able to become a popular royal poet the way Shah-ji has been able to.

I’ve already mentioned that my time was coming to an end; that’s why I made a final request, ‘Do you have a message for your readers?’

This is what I received: ‘Every Nepali should aim to engage with literary, intellectual works, especially those written by scholars; and especially the kind of work that is close to our national context, that depicts our geography, our rivers and the wooden bridges; that takes the Nepali public – who are just beginning to take their first steps – into account; and the kind of engagement that fosters our self-esteem and makes us more confident. Politics and partying are momentary things; literature, culture, music and art contribute to tradition, to a sense of durable devotion. That’s what signifies Nepal and Nepali society. Every Nepali ought to realize that.’

I had a few other questions, particularly relating to the connection between literature and eros but due to lack of time, I returned, awaiting another opportunity.

—February 22, 1967