I am Rajendra K Panthee. I completed PhD in Rhetoric and Composition Studies from University of Texas in December, 2014. I have been working as a full-time faculty in the Department of Writing Studies, Rhetoric and Composition at Syracuse University since August, 2015.
The village of Vedanpur had finally understood what was really happening, but the truth was hard to swallow. The spectacle was over. The audience had dispersed. Chamsuri was left standing on a stage of her own making, the boards now rotten beneath her feet. Her dance, once a triumphant performance of dominance, had become a desperate, shuffling routine to maintain the illusion.
The “reckoning” was not a single, dramatic event, but a slow, inexorable erosion. The Brahmin patriarch and the Magar matriarch, the twin pillars of Chamsuri’s power, were now gone. Their passing left a void not of grief, but of unchecked accountability. With them died the last vestiges of unquestioned authority that had shielded her.
The Unforgivable Blow from Dile’s First Write Up
The final, unforgivable blow came not from a village gossip, but from the written word. Dile, from his life in Kathmandu, published a poignant account of his life. A heart-wrenching narrative of a son’s longing for a love and recognition that was always withheld. A stark detailing of the systemic injustice that favoured one branch of the family over the other.
The essay was a seismic shock. In Vedanpur, photocopies were passed from hand to calloused hand. The villagers, who had once whispered, now read the unvarnished truth in black and white.
Chamsuri and Nakkale were shaken to their core. The carefully constructed narrative of their superiority was collapsing faster than the old house. In a fit of insane rage, Chamsuri did the unthinkable. She went onto the Nepal Touch website where the essay was published and wrote a furious comment, wishing for Dile’s death. “He has spat on our family’s honor!” she shrieked, her digital vitriol a permanent testament to her fury. “May he perish for this betrayal!” She then furiously called Nakkale’s uncles’ daughters, both in Nepal and abroad, repeating her venomous wishes. This was her pattern. She had always boasted of her wealth, a fortune built on the sacrifice of Putali and Dile, and took a perverse happiness in every struggle and sorrow they endured. Now, exposed, her happiness curdled into public, crazed hatred.
The House on Shaky Ground
With the patriarch and matriarch gone, the full, unvarnished truth of the inheritance was laid bare. Dile, true to a lifetime of principled silence, had never set foot in Vedanpur to claim a single inch of land. He wanted nothing from the father who had given him nothing. Not love, not security, not a shred of paternal duty. The entire estate, including everything the patriarch had earned in Mumbai (money that was rightfully part of the paternal wealth to be shared between both sons), was now firmly in the grasp of Nakkale and Chamsuri.
This should have been their ultimate victory. Instead, it became their prison.
There was one final, symbolic piece of the “paternal property”: the old, dilapidated house and the small, rocky plot that the patriarch had originally allocated to his first wife. It was the site of Putali’s suffering, a place of painful memories for Dile, and a crumbling eyesore for Chamsuri.
A cruel irony began to gnaw at them. To finally silence the villagers and perhaps their own stirring consciences, they wanted nothing more than for Dile to come to the village, formally register this worthless plot in his name, and absolve them of it. They believed that if Dile accepted this neglected property, they could finally boast that they had, after all, “handed over” his share. It was the ultimate act of rewriting history, and his refusal shattered the possibility.
The Second Exposure
Chamsuri’s public comment and venomous phone calls were the final straw for Dile. Her hatred, now documented for all to see, pushed him to write again. This time, he did not write a sorrowful letter, but a devastating chronicle. He published “Dance Chamsuri, Dance,” laying bare the entire village drama. The manipulation by Jhumri. The tyranny of Chamsuri. The weakness of Nakkale. The cabal of villagers like Chankhe who fueled the flames. The story of the naming ceremony, the unjust land division, the stolen earnings from Muglan. It was all there, laid bare with a dignity that made their past complicity feel shameful. For a lifetime, Putali had tried to express her hardships to the villagers. They would listen with feigned sympathy, only to rush to Chamsuri’s in-laws, exaggerating her words and painting Putali as a bad-mouthed, ungrateful woman. Now, Dile’s words forced them to finally reckon with the sorrows they had helped perpetuate.
This second exposure shook the couple’s foundation to dust. The essay was a mirror held up to their lives, and the reflection was monstrous. Now, their misdeeds were not just implied. They were named, detailed, and immortalized. Every word Dile published thereafter, on any topic, sent them into a fresh spiral of paranoia. They became convinced that every new essay, every social media post, was another coded expose, another chapter dedicated to unveiling their lifelong sins to the world. This constant fear festered into a genuine mental affliction, a shared psychosis where they saw their own condemnation in every line Dile wrote.
The Psychological Cage
Now, the old house became more than just a building. It became a monument to their bad karma, a physical representation of the suppression and oppression “Dance Chamsuri, Dance” had revealed. Every monsoon, they heard reports from their loyal spies, Indre and Burche: “The roof sags more,” “The wall has a new crack,” “It will not survive the next storm.”
The house’s impending collapse became an obsession. Chamsuri, who once boasted of building empires, now spent her nights agonizing over a collapsing mud-and-tile roof. Nakkale, who had never questioned where the money came from, now lay awake, paralyzed by a new, terrifying fear.
“They will blame us if it falls,” Nakkale would mutter, his face pale. “They will say we neglected it on purpose, that we couldn’t even preserve the one thing that was rightfully his. It will be the final proof of everything he wrote.”
“Let them talk!” Chamsuri would retort, but her voice was now a hysterical whisper. “We are not building him a new house! Why should we? He got nothing in his life, he gets nothing now!”
But her defiance was a mask for a more calculated fear. The truth was, they desperately needed the house to stand. Its continued existence, however fragile, was their only evidence. They could point to it and tell the villagers, “See? We have offered it to him. It is there for him. He is the one who is too proud, too ungrateful to accept it.” The crumbling house was their shield against the court of public opinion. If it fell, that shield would vanish, and they would be exposed as the people who had not just stolen an inheritance, but had callously let the last symbolic shred of it turn to dust.
So Chamsuri and Nakkale were trapped. Letting the house collapse would make them the undeniable villains. Saving it meant financially acknowledging a debt they refused to pay. The house had to stand, but it could not cost them a thing. It was an impossible equation that churned in their minds day and night, a perfect, maddening circle of anxiety born from their own poisoned legacy.
बेदानपुर गाउँ अहिले जागेको छ।तर गाउँलेहरूलाई सत्य निल्न धेरै गाह्रो भएको छ। नाटक सकियो, दर्शकहरू छरिए, र चम्सुरी आफ्नै सिर्जनाको मञ्चमा एक्ली उभिएकी छिन्। जहिले गर्व र जितको प्रतीक बनेको उनको नाच अहिले केवल नाटकको औपचारिकता बनेको छ—अभिनय जसले एउटा पुरानो भ्रमलाई मात्र जोगाइराखेको छ।
तर यो “निर्णयको समय” कुनै एक क्षणिक घटना होइन। यो बिस्तारै भएको पतन हो—एक प्रकारको क्षय जसले समयसँगै सबै शक्ति र प्रभुत्व बिसर्जन गरायो। चम्सुरीको संसारका दुई स्तम्भ— ब्राह्मण कुलपिता र मगर्नीमाता —अब छैनन्। तिनीहरू गएसँगै उनको रक्षा गर्ने अन्तिम पर्खाल पनि ढल्यो। अब न त अनियन्त्रित आत्मविश्वास बाँकी रह्यो, न त उत्तरदायित्वबाट भाग्ने ठाउँ।
अक्षम्य सत्य — दिलेको त्यो लेख
अन्ततः सबैभन्दा ठूलो चोट गाउँको हल्लाबाट होइन, एउटा शब्दबाट आयो। दिलेले आफ्नो जीवनका पीडाहरू लेखमार्फत सार्वजनिक गर्यो। त्यो लेख एउटा छोराको कथा थियो—जसले जीवनभर बुबाबाट प्रेम र मान्यता खोजिरह्यो, तर कहिल्यै पाएको थिएन। त्यो लेखले पारिवारिक अन्याय र असमानताको तीव्र चित्रण गर्यो—जहाँ एक शाखालाई सदैव प्राथमिकता दिइन्थ्यो र अर्को शाखालाई उपेक्षा र अपमानमात्रै।
त्यो लेख बेदानपुरमा भूकम्पसरह फैलियो। फोटोकपीहरू गाउँका हरेक हातमा पुगे, हरेकले पढे। जसले पहिले चुपचाप सुनेर अरूलाई गलत कथा सुनाउँथे, अहिले उनीहरूकै आँखामा कालो-सेतोमा लेखिएको नग्न सत्य परिरहेको थियो।
चम्सुरी र नक्कलेको संसार हल्लियो। वर्षौंसम्म ध्यानपूर्वक बनाएको “श्रेष्ठताको” कथा एकैछिनमा भत्कन थाल्यो। र त्यस क्षण चम्सुरी पागलझैँ व्यवहार गर्न थाली। उनी सीधै अखबारको वेबसाइटमा पुगिन्, जहाँ त्यो लेख प्रकाशित भएको थियो, र क्रोधले भरिएको टिप्पणी लेखिन्। “उसले हाम्रो परिवारको इज्जतमा थुक्यो!” उनले लेखिन्। “त्यो विश्वासघातको सजाय उसलाई मृत्यु होस्!” त्यो टिप्पणी सधैंका लागि उनको क्रोधको डिजिटल प्रमाण बन्यो। त्यसपछि उनले नेपाल र विदेशमा रहेका नक्कलेका काकाका छोरीहरू साथै आफ्ना शुभचिन्तकहरू लाई फोन गरिरही, बारम्बार आफ्नै शब्द दोहोर्याउँदै।
चम्सुरीको गर्व सधैं पुतली र उनको छोरा दिलेले भोगेका पीडामा पलाएको थियो। पुतली र दिलेले भोगेका संघर्षमा चम्सुरीले आनन्द पाउँथी—त्यो नै उसको शक्ति थियो। उनको मुख्य चिन्ता भनेको आफ्ना शुभचिन्तकहरूलाई फोन कल मार्फत पुष्टि गर्नु थियो कि उनीहरूले चम्सुरी र नक्कलेले भन्दा राम्रो गरिरहेका छैनन्। तर अहिले सत्यले उसको मुखौटा फुकालिसकेको थियो। त्यो गर्व अब पागलपन र सार्वजनिक घृणामा परिणत भयो।
ढल्दै गरेको घर
ब्राह्मण कुलपिता र मगर्नी माता को मृत्यु पछि, सम्पत्तिको वास्तविकता सबैको सामु खुलेर आयो। दिले, जसले जीवनभर आफ्नो मौन इमानदारी जोगाएको थियो, कहिल्यै बेदानपुर फर्किएन। उसले बुबाबाट केही चाहेन—न माया, न सुरक्षाको आश्वासन, न त एक इंच जग्गा। उसले बुझिसकेको थियो कि उसलाई थाहा थियो कि उसको बुबाले उसलाई केही दिने छैनन्। त्यसैले अहिले पनि उसले केही माग्ने औचित्य देखेन। यसैबीच, मुगलान मा कमाएर ल्याएको बुबाको सम्पूर्ण कमाइ—जुन मूलतः दुवै छोराबीच बराबर बाँडिनुपर्ने थियो—अब नक्कले र चम्सुरीको नियन्त्रणमा थियो।
यो उनीहरूको अन्तिम विजय हुनुपर्ने थियो, तर अन्ततः त्यो उनीहरूको कारागार बन्यो। सम्पत्तिको एउटा सानो, प्रतीकात्मक अंश बाँकी थियो—पुरानो जीर्ण घर र त्यहीँ छेउको ढुंगामाटो जमिन, त्यो पनि उसको हजुरबुबाले उसको बुबालाई दिएको। यही घरमा पुतलीले दुःखका वर्षहरू बिताएकी थिई; यही ठाउँ दिलेका लागि पीडाको स्मृति थियो, र चम्सुरी का लागि त आँखासामु देखिने घाउसरह असह्य।
तर अब विडम्बना यस्तो भयो कि गाउँको कुरा रोक्न र सायद आफ्नै विवेकलाई चुप पार्न, चम्सुरी र नक्कले चाहन्थे कि दिले गाउँ फर्कियोस्, त्यो सानो घर र जमिन आफ्नै नाममा दर्ता गराओस्, र उनीहरूले त्यसबाट “मुक्ति” पाऊन्। उनीहरूलाई लाग्थ्यो—यदि दिले ले त्यो सम्पत्ति स्वीकार गर्यो भने, उनीहरूले गाउँका अगाडि भन्न सक्थे, “हेर, हामीले त उसको भाग दिएका छौँ।” यो इतिहासलाई पुनःलेखन गर्ने अन्तिम प्रयास हुन्थ्यो। तर दिलेले अस्वीकार गर्यो, र त्यस अस्वीकारले उनीहरूको नाटक पूर्ण रूपमा भत्काइदियो।
दिलेको दोस्रो लेखन- नाच चम्सुरी, नाच
चम्सुरीले वेबसाइटमा लेखेको त्यो विषिलो टिप्पणी र देश-विदेशमा गरेकी ती क्रोधित फोन कलहरू दिलेका लागि अन्तिम सीमा बने। अब घृणा मात्र मौखिक थिएन, सार्वजनिक रूपमा दर्ता भइसकेको थियो। यसपछिका दिनमा दिलेले फेरि लेख्ने निर्णय गर्यो—तर यसपटक उसको लेख दुःखको निवेदन थिएन, सत्यको प्रहार थियो। उसले लेखको शीर्षक राख्यो—“नाच चम्सुरी, नाच।” त्यो लेखमा उसले सारा गाउँको नाटक खोलिदियो—झुम्रीको चलखेल, चम्सुरीको अत्याचार, नक्कलेको कमजोरी, र चङ्खे जस्ता गाउँलेहरूको मौन समर्थन। नामकरणको कथा, जग्गा बाँडफाँडको अन्याय—सबै कुरा लेखमा थियो। तर त्यो आरोप होइन, शालीन ढङ्गमा लेखिएको आत्मकथा थियो—त्यो शालीनताले नै गाउँलेहरूको सहमतिको मौनतालाई लज्जित बनायो।
यो दोस्रो लेखले चम्सुरी र नक्कलेको जग पुरै हल्लाइदियो। लेखले उनीहरूलाई एउटा ऐना देखायो, र त्यो ऐनामा उनीहरूले देखे आफ्नै कुरूप प्रतिबिम्ब। अब उनीहरूको कुकर्म केवल आरोपको रूपमा होइन, नाम र विवरणसहित उजागर भइसकेको थियो।
वर्षौंसम्म पुतली गाउँलाई आफ्नो दुःख सुनाउने प्रयास गर्थी। गाउँलेहरू सुनेजस्तो गर्थे तर पछि चम्सुरीको घर पुगेर उसका शब्दहरूलाई तोडमोड गर्थे, र उसलाई “बदजुबान, अकृतज्ञ” ठहराउँथे। तर अहिले दिलेले लेखेको सत्यले सबैको मौनतालाई चर्को रूपमा तोडिदियो। गाउँलेहरूलाई महसुस भयो—उनीहरू पनि अन्यायको साझेदार थिए।
दिलेले त्यसपछि जुनसुकै विषयमा लेखे पनि, चम्सुरी र नक्कलेमा आतंक फैलिन्थ्यो। हरेक नयाँ लेख, हरेक पोस्ट उनीहरूलाई अर्को आरोपजस्तो लाग्थ्यो—मानौँ प्रत्येक वाक्य उनीहरूकै जीवनका पापहरू उद्घाटन गर्न लेखिएको हो। यस्तो डर विस्तारै उनीहरूको मानसिक रोगमा परिणत भयो—साझा पागलपन, जहाँ हरेक अक्षरमा उनीहरूले आफ्नै निन्दा देख्थे।
मानसिक पिँजरा
अब त्यो पुरानो घर केवल माटो र ढुङ्गाको संरचना रहेन; त्यो चम्सुरी र नक्कलेको कर्मको स्मारक बन्यो—त्यो दुष्कर्म र अत्याचारको प्रतीक, जसलाई “नाच चम्सुरी, नाच” ले संसारमाझ उघारिदिएको थियो। हरेक वर्षको मनसुनमा, उनका भरपर्दा चम्चा— चङ्खे, बुर्चे, इन्द्रे, लछुमा, र दाबरे —बाट खबर आउँथ्यो: “छानो झनै झुकेको छ,” “भित्तामा नयाँ चिरा परेको छ,” “यो वर्ष बाँच्दैन” र यस्तै यस्तै!
यो घरको सम्भावित पतन उनीहरूको मनमा डरको एउटा स्थायी गुञ्जन बन्यो। चम्सुरी, जसले कहिल्यै आफूलाई हार्न नसक्ने ठान्थी, अब रातभर आँखा नलगाई त्यो घरको छानालाई सम्झँदै कराउँथी। नक्कले, जसले जीवनभर पैसाको स्रोत नसोची त्यसको मजा लिएको थियो, अब सुत्न सक्दैनथ्यो—एक नयाँ, भयावह डरले उसको मुटु चिसो बनाइदिएको थियो। “यदि यो घर भत्कियो भने, सबैले हामीलाई दोष दिनेछन्,” ऊ बर्बराउँथ्यो, उसको स्वर काँप्थ्यो अनि फेरि ऊ भन्थ्यो “सबै भन्नेछन्—हामीले जानाजानी बिगार्यौं, उसलाई उसको हकबाट वञ्चित गर्यौं। यही त प्रमाण हुनेछ, जसको बारेमा दिलेले लेखेको थियो।”
चम्सुरी झर्किएकी जस्तो देखिन्थी, तर उनको स्वर पनि अब फुस्रो र थरथराउँदो हुन्थ्यो। “गफ गर्न देऊ! हामीले उसको लागि नयाँ घर किन बनाउनुपर्यो? उसले कहिल्यै केही पाएन, अब पनि नपाओस्।” तर उनको यो कठोरता अब केवल आवरण थियो। मनको गहिराइमा, उनीहरूलाई थाहा थियो—उनीहरूले त्यो घरलाई बचाउनैपर्छ। त्यो घर उस्तै उभिएको रहनु नै उनीहरूको प्रमाण थियो। गाउँका अगाडि उनीहरूले अझै भन्न सक्थे, “हेर, हामीले त उसको भाग राखिदिएका छौँ, उसले नै लिन मानेको छैन।” त्यो भत्कँदो घर नै उनीहरूको ढाल बनेको थियो।
यदि त्यो ढलेर माटोमा मिल्यो भने, उनीहरूको झूटा कथा पनि ढल्नेछ। तब गाउँलेहरूले बुझ्नेछन्—उनीहरूले न केवल सम्पत्ति चोरे, तर त्यसको अन्तिम प्रतीकलाई पनि नष्ट हुन दिए। त्यसपछि उनीहरूमाथि कुनै बहाना बाँकी रहने छैन। उनीहरूका दृष्टिमा त्यो दोषको स्वीकारोक्ति हुन्थ्यो—जस्तो आफ्ना पापहरूलाई खुलेआम स्वीकार गर्नु।
यसरी चम्सुरी र नक्कले फँसे—एक यस्तो समीकरणमा जसको समाधान थिएन। यदि घर भत्कियो भने उनीहरू खलनायक ठहरिने थिए। यदि बचाए भने उनीहरूले आफ्नै अपराधको आर्थिक स्वीकारोक्ति गर्ने थिए। त्यसैले, घर उस्तै उभिनुपर्थ्यो! यो असम्भव दुविधा उनीहरूको दिनरातको सतावट बन्यो। उनीहरूको सोच, उनीहरूको निद्रा, र उनीहरूको अन्तिम शान्ति—सबै त्यो घरको ढल्दै गरेको पर्खालसँगै बिस्तारै खस्यो।
त्यो घर अब केवल माटो र ढुङ्गाले बनेको थिएन—त्यो चम्सुरी र नक्कलेको विवेकको पिँजरा बनिसकेको थियो, जहाँ उनीहरू आफ्नै कर्मको भूतसँग कैद भएर बाँचेका थिए।
(कृपया ध्यान दिनुहोस् कि यो एक काल्पनिक कथा हो र यदि यो तपाईंको वा तपाईंले चिनेको कसैको जीवनसँग मेल खाएमा, यो एक संयोग मात्र हुनेछ।)
वेदानपुर गाउँ सधैं नाटकको मञ्च थियो, तर कसैले पनि चम्सुरीको शक्तिमा उदयको नाटकमा प्रतिस्पर्धा गर्न सकेन। कथा चम्सुरीबाट सुरु हुँदैन, तर त्यो माटोबाट सुरु हुन्छ जसमा उनी हुर्किइन्—एउटा गाउँ जहाँ वफादारी उनको सासूको घरेलु रक्सी जत्तिकै तरल थियो, र जहाँ सुविधाजनक झूटको भारमा सत्य सजिलै मोडिन्थ्यो।
चम्सुरीले केन्द्रिय भूमिका लिनुअघि नै कलाकारहरू जम्मा भइसकेका थिए। पहिलो नम्बरमा ब्राह्मण कुलपिता, मगर्नी माता, र नक्कले थिए: तनावको त्रिकोण। ब्राह्मण कुलपिताले मगर्नी माता लाई आफ्ना आमाबाबुले वैदिक विधि र सामाजिक परम्परा दुवै अनुसार पुतलीसँग विवाह गर्न बाध्य पार्नुभन्दा ठीक अघि गर्भवती बनाएका थिए। पुतली—लामो समयदेखि पीडित पहिलो पत्नी—यस नाटकको अपरिहार्य दुखियारी नायिका बनिन्। पर्दा पछाडिबाट मौनतापूर्वक हेर्दै थियो दिले, उनको छोरा, जो एक दिन यो तितो मञ्च अन्ततः अँध्यारो हुँदा एक्लो अन्तिम दर्शक!। तर घटनाहरू नियन्त्रणको वास्तविक संयन्त्र चम्सुरीका ससुरा, कुलपिता, र उनकी सासू, मगर्नी माता को हातमा थियो। उनीहरूको शक्ति समर्पित सिपाहीहरू चङ्खे, बुर्चे, इन्द्रे, लछुमा, तिलारपाटे र दाबरे मार्फत प्रवाहित हुन्थ्यो! वास्तवमा ती सबै समर्पित सिपाहीहरू चङ्खे, गाउँका मीठो बोली भएका कठपुतली खेलाडी जसको वफादारी सबैभन्दा ठूलो फाइदातिर ढल्किन्थ्यो, को वरिपरि घुम्थे! र चङ्खेको छेउमा, सधैं फुसफुसाउँदै उनकी पत्नीले विषालु गफहरूलाई धार्मिक भेटी जस्तै बाँड्थिन्।
पहिलो पाप: विभाजित घर
वेदानपुर गाउँको नाटकको जग जमिन र स्थिर जागिर थियो—चाहे देशमा होस् वा मुगलान—ग्रामीण नेपालमा यो परम मुद्रा थियो। ब्राह्मण कुलपिता, एक व्यक्ति जसको नैतिक धरातल मगर्नी माताको आकर्षणले चकनाचुर भएको थियो, उनले अक्षम्य विश्वासघात गरे: उनले धोका दिनेहरूलाई अथाह विश्वास र प्रेम दिए, जबकि जसले उनलाई आफ्नो सम्पूर्ण संसार मानेका थिए, उनीहरूलाई अस्वीकार गरे। उनले आफ्नो सम्पत्ति अन्यायपूर्ण रूपमा बाँडे र आफूमा निर्भर भएकाहरूको लागि सबै जिम्मेवारीबाट पन्छिए।
जब ब्राह्मण कुलपिताले आफ्ना दाजुभाइबाट अलग्गिएर बुबाको सम्पत्ति बाँडे, उनले मुख्य जग्गा र घर आफ्नी प्रिय मगर्नी पत्नीलाई दिए, पहिलो पत्नी र उनका छोराछोरीका लागि भिरालो, चट्टानी जग्गा मात्र छोडे। यद्यपि उनले मुगलानमा काम गरेर कमाएको बारेमा घमण्ड गरे, आफ्नो बुबाबाट प्राप्त गरेको सम्पत्ति बाली उब्जाउन र गाईवस्तु चराउन पर्याप्त नभए पनि उसले त्यसमा थप जग्गा जसले पुतलीको परिवारलाई बालीनाली र गाईवस्तुका लागि चरन प्रदान गर्न सक्थ्यो। जसले गर्दा उनीहरू निरन्तर कठिनाइमा परे। ब्राह्मण पिताको तलबबाट केही रकम दिने कुरा, यद्यपि त्यो रकम थोरै थियो, अकल्पनीय थियो। ब्राह्मण पिताको यी सबै गतिविधिहरूको कारणले गर्दा दिले एक्लै काम र पढाइलाई सन्तुलनमा राख्न बाध्य भयो जबसम्म उसले अन्ततः स्नातकोत्तरको डिग्री पूरा गरेन। पछि, जब ब्राह्मण कुलपिता र मगर्नी माताले जग्गा किने, उनीहरूले झूटो दाबी गरे कि यो मगर्नी माताको स्थानीय रक्सी व्यवसायबाट आएको पैसाले किनिएको हो। चम्सुरीले वर्षौं पछि यही धोका दोहोर्याइन् जब उनले गोप्य रूपमा उनीहरूले भाडामा लिएको घर किनिन्—उनका ससुराको पैसाले वित्त पोषित तर उनको र उनका पतिको आफ्नै उपलब्धि भनेर लुकाइयो। यो योजनाबद्ध धोकाको ढाँचा उनीहरूको विरासत बन्यो, चम्सुरी र उनकी सासूले दिले, उनकी आमा र बहिनीलाई हरेक पाइलामा व्यवस्थित रूपमा ठगे।
“तिम्रो बुबा सधैं आफ्नी पहिलो पत्नी र उनका छोराछोरीप्रति अन्यायपूर्ण थिए,” चङ्खेले दिलेलाई फुसफुसाउँथे, उनको स्वर चिन्ताले भरिएको जस्तो लाग्थ्यो तर उनका आँखा षड्यन्त्रले चम्किरहेका हुन्थे। दिलेलाई थाहा थियो कि उनी के गर्दैछन्—गुनासोहरू खोज्दै थिए जसलाई उनले मगर्नी माताको घरमा आफ्नो भक्तिको प्रमाणको रूपमा मोडेर बेच्न सक्थे।
पुतलीको हरेक पीडा, दिलेको हरेक नबोलेको शब्द, चङ्खेले त्यसलाई काण्डमा परिणत गरिदिन्थ्यो। “के हजुरले सुन्नु भन्यो? पुतलीले भनिन् कि हजुरले आफ्नो पतिलाई आफू र आफ्ना छोराछोरीप्रति लम्पसार पार्न तन्त्रमन्त्र गर्नुभयो!” उनले मगर्नी मातालाई हाँस्दै भन्ने गर्थे, यो थाहा हुँदाहुँदै कि यसले उहाको रिसलाई भड्काउनेछ। अनि, एक अनुभवी कठपुतली खेलाडी जस्तै, उनी पछाडि बस्थे र त्यसपछिको अराजकता हेर्थे, आफ्नो इनाम सङ्कलन गर्थे—एक बोतल घरेलु रक्सी, एक कप चिया, अनि केही बाँकी रहेको खाना, वा केवल वेदानपुरको सबैभन्दा अपरिहार्य गफ दलाल भएको सन्तुष्टि।
चम्कली पनि कम थिइनन्। उनी माइती आउँदा चम्सुरीको परिवारको लागि कर्तव्यनिष्ठ सेविकाको भूमिका खेल्थिन्। दिलेलाई अझै याद छ कसरी चम्कालीले पुतलीको पीडालाई तमाशामा परिणत गरिदिन्थिन्। जब दिले कलेजको हिउँदे बिदामा घर आएको बेला पुतली बिरामी परिन्, चम्कली घण्टौंसम्म उनको ओछ्यान छेउमा बसिन्, सहानुभूतिपूर्वक टाउको हल्लाउँदै जब पुतलीले आफ्ना दुःख पोखिन्। आधा घण्टा नबित्दै, उनी मगर्नी माताको ढोकामा पुगिन, ती निजी विलापहरूलाई कृतघ्नता र षड्यन्त्रका कथाहरूमा परिणत गर्दै।
कुलपिता, आफ्नी दोस्रो पत्नीका “महान् संरक्षक”, क्रोधले आँखा रातो पार्दै पुतलीको कोठामा हुरीझैँ पस्थे। “तेरो हैसियतभन्दा ठूलाको बारेमा नराम्रो कुरा गर्ने तेरो हिम्मत कसरी भयो?” उनी गर्जन्थे, जबकि उनको पछाडि मगर्नी माताको आँखामा सन्तुष्टिको चमक देखिन्थ्यो।
झुम्रीको प्रवेश: माहिर रणनीतिकार
त्यसपछि आउँछिन् झुम्री—चम्सुरीकी आमा जो चम्सुरीको उदयको लागि वास्तविक योजनाकार। झुम्रीले नक्कलेको परिवारलाई शिकारीको तीखो आँखाले नियालेकी थिइन्, तिनीहरूको जग्गा, तिनीहरूको धन, र सबैभन्दा महत्त्वपूर्ण कुरा, तिनीहरूको सोझा छोरा जसले वास्तविक स्नेह र योजनाबद्ध चापलूसी बीच भेद गर्न सक्दैनथे, याद गरेकी थिइन्। गाउँलेले पछि “महान् ट्युसन जाल” भनेको कुरा सैन्य परिष्करण साथ खुलासा भयो। झुम्रीले पहिले विनम्रतापूर्वक अनुरोध गरिन्: “नक्कले, मेरी चम्सुरीलाई पढाइमा गाह्रो भइरहेको छ। के तिमी उसलाई ट्युसन दिन सक्छौ?” त्यसपछि रणनीतिक सेटिंग—उनीहरूको मधुरो उज्यालो भएको पछिल्लो कोठामा साँझको सत्र जहाँ चम्सुरी, आफ्नी आमाबाट राम्रोसँग प्रशिक्षित भएकीले, नक्कले असहज रूपमा नजिक नबसेसम्म आधारभूत गणित पनि बुझ्न नसक्ने रहस्यमय असक्षमता विकास गरिन्।
जब नक्कले र चम्सुरीको बढ्दो निकटतामा स्वाभाविक रूपमा गाउँलेहरुले प्रश्न उठाए, झुम्रीले आफ्नो अन्तिम हतियार- बिग्रेको प्रतिष्ठा र पारिवारिक इज्जतको बारेमा आँसु झार्दै भनिन्: “गाउँलेहरूले के भन्लान्?” आफूले नै हरेक सम्झौतापूर्ण परिस्थिति खडा गरेको कुरालाई बेवास्ता गर्दै उनी विलाप गर्थिन्,। अन्ततः नक्कलेलाई ढिलो चाँडो चामसुरीसँग विवाह गर्न बाध्य पारियो। नक्कले, पर्याप्त धनको उत्तराधिकारी, आफू फसेको कुरा धेरै ढिलो भएपछि मात्र थाहा पाए।
विवाहले चम्सुरीलाई षड्यन्त्रकारी केटीबाट गाउँकी नक्कली महारानीमा परिणत गर्यो। उनी आफ्नो नयाँ घरमा दुलहीको रूपमा होइन तर विजेताको रूपमा आइन् र तुरुन्तै पारिवारिक इतिहास पुनर्लेखन गर्न थालिन्। वेदानपुरको हरेक भ्रमण विजय जुलुस बन्थ्यो, जहाँ चम्सुरी सस्तो रेशममा सजिएर आफ्नो चमत्कारी उदयको बारेमा घुमाउरो भाषण दिन्थिन्।
“कसले सोचेको थियो र,” उनी नाटकीय प्रभावका लागि आफ्नो छाती ठोक्दै हाँस्दै भन्थिन्, “गरिब छिमेकीकी छोरीले एक दिन नक्कलेको परिवारमा सबै कुराको निर्णय गर्छे? जबदेखि मैले नक्कलेसँग विवाह गरे, यस परिवारको भाग्य बदलियो! मभन्दा अघि तिनीहरू कहाँ थिए? अब सबै कुराको निर्णय म गर्छु, म! अब म के भन्छु र के गर्छु भन्ने कुरामा नक्कालेसँग आपत्ति जनाउने कुनै शक्ति छैन।“
चम्सुरी, आफ्ना ससुराको आफ्नै सासूको परिवारप्रति स्पष्ट पक्षपातबाट उत्साहित भएर, आफ्नो उच्च हैसियतको बारेमा अटल अहंकार विकास गरिन्। उनले दिले र उनकी आमा र बहिनीविरुद्धको भेदभावमा आनन्द लिन्थिन्, आफू परिवारको मनपर्ने शाखामा विवाह गरेकीले श्रेष्ठ महसुस गर्थिन्। हरेक अवसरमा—विशेष गरी उनका पतिको काकाहरूका छोरीहरूको विवाहको छलफलको क्रममा—उनी दिले, जो अझै पढ्दै र संघर्ष गरिरहेको थियो, भन्दा “राम्रो” व्यक्तिसँग विवाह गरेकोमा घमण्ड गर्थिन्, उनका निर्दयी तुलनाहरू उनको कथित श्रेष्ठतालाई बलियो बनाउन डिजाइन गरिएको एक अनुष्ठान बनेको थियो।
चङ्खे, बुर्चे, इन्द्रे, लछुमा, तिलारपाटे र दाबरे मगर्नी माताको साम्राज्यका सबै वफादार सिपाहीहरूको नेतृत्वमा गाउँलेहरू ताली बजाउँथे। उनीहरूले बिर्से कि चमसुरीको बुबा मदिरा सेवन गर्ने व्यक्ति थिए र उनले आफ्नो बुबाको सम्पत्ति बर्बाद गरेका थिए। चमसुरीको दुर्भाग्यको बारेमा पहिलेका फुसफुसाहटहरूलाई सुविधाजनक रूपमा बिर्सिए, अब एक कप चिया, एक गिलास रक्सी र केही बचेको खानाको लागि तिनीहरूले आफ्नो इज्जत बेचे!
झुम्रीको उत्कृष्ट चाल: नामकरण समारोहको नाटक
दिलेले झुम्रीका अनगिन्ती आरोपहरू सह्यो जहाँ झुम्रीले उसलाई, उसकी आमा र उसकी बहिनीलाई नकारात्मक रूपमा चित्रित गर्थिन्! तर एउटा घटना सबैभन्दा अलग थियो—जब झुम्रीले दिलेलाई सम्पूर्ण गाउँसामु एक बेवास्ता गर्ने भाइ र देवरको रूपमा प्रस्तुत गरेकी थिइन्!
यो काठमाडौंमा भएको थियो। चम्सुरी आफ्नो दोस्रो बच्चासँग गर्भवती थिइन्, यद्यपि दिले, आफ्नो स्नातकको पढाइ र गुजारा चलाउन शिक्षण कामलाई सन्तुलनमा राख्न व्यस्त भएकाले, उसलाई यो कुरा थाहा पनि थिएन। जब उ अन्ततः भेट्न गयो र उसले बच्चा जन्माएको थाहा पायो, उ एघारौं दिनमा नामकरण संस्कारमा सहभागी भयो!
तर सधैंकि रणनीतिकार झुम्रीको अरू योजनाहरू थिए। झुम्री गाउँ फर्केर, उनले ब्राह्मण कुलपिता (चम्सुरीका ससुरा) लाई झूटको जाल बुनिन्: “दिलेलाई बच्चाको जन्मको वास्ता थिएन! ऊ खुसी थिएन! ऊ नामकरण समारोहमा पनि आएन!” ब्राह्मण कुलपिता जो आफ्नी प्रिय बुहारीको परिवारलाई कहिल्यै प्रश्न नगर्ने व्यक्ति, क्रोधले पागल भए। जब दिले दशैंको लागि गाउँ फर्कियो, वेदानपुरको आधा भाग उसको “निर्दयता” को बारेमा गाइगुई गरीरहेको थियो। शुभचिन्तक गाउँलेहरूले दिलेलाई सोधे “के यो सत्य हो कि तिमी आफ्नो भतिजाको नामकरण समारोहमा गएनौ?”
त्यो बदनामको पीडाले दिलेलाई लामो समयसम्म दुख्यो। झुम्रीले केवल कथालाई मात्र हेरफेर गरेकी थिइनन्—उनले पारिवारिक परम्परालाई नै दिले, उसकी आमा र उसकी बहिनीलाई थप अलग गर्न हतियारको रूपमा प्रयोग गरेकी थिइन् जसलाई गाउँलेको गफ र चम्सुरीका ससुरा (जो दिलेका बुबा पनि थिए) को अन्धो पक्षपातको फाइदा कसरी उठाउने भन्ने धेरै राम्रोसँग थाहा थियो। यो उनको उत्कृष्ट रणनीति थियो र एक अनपढ महिलाले रणनीतिक रूपमा कार्यान्वयन गरिएको बौद्धिक रणनीतिको उदाहरण पनि!
गाउँले दर्शक: मूर्खहरूले मूर्खताको ताली बजाउँदै
दिलेलाई सबैभन्दा बढी चकित पार्ने कुरा चम्सुरी र उनकी सासूको धृष्टता थिएन, तर गाउँलेहरूले उनीहरूको प्रदर्शनलाई कति उत्सुकताका साथ ग्रहण गरे भन्ने थियो। यी त्यही मानिसहरू थिए जसले एक समय ब्राह्मण परिवारमा मगरनी महिलाको उपस्थितिलाई देखेर आफ्नो पवित्र धागो डरले समातेका थिए। अब तिनीहरू उनको ढोकामा भक्त शिष्यहरू जस्तै लाइनमा उभिन्थे, उनको प्रसिद्ध रक्सी, चिया र बचेको खानाको लागि।
“कति उदार!” उनीहरूले उनको भाँडा भर्दा गुनगुनाउँथे। “कति दयालु महिला!” उनीहरूले साना उपहारहरू खल्तीमा हाल्दै प्रशंसा गर्थे।
यही गाउँलेहरूले पुतलीको आँसुलाई गफको रूपमा फर्काएर बेच्थे, हरेक फुसफुसाएको गुनासो मगर्नी माताको उत्सुक कानसम्म पुर्याउँथे। “कस्तो अनुग्रहहीन,” उनीहरू पुतलीको शोकमा नाक खुम्च्याउँथे, किनभने उनीहरू मगर्नी माताले भरेका रक्सीका गिलासहरू खाली गर्न लोभिएका थिए। उनीहरूले भन्थे कि पुतलीको पति महान् व्यक्ति थिए, तर पुतलीको पक्षका कोही पनि—पुतली, दिले र काली—प्रेम वा हेरचाहको योग्य थिएनन्। दिलेले यो कुरा आफ्नै काका, काकी र अन्य गाउँलेहरूबाट आफ्नो सम्पूर्ण जीवनभर सुन्यो। यसले कहिलेकाहीँ उसलाई दुःखी बनाउँथ्यो, तर यस्ता शब्दहरू र आफ्नै परिवार र छिमेकीहरूको घृणित नजरहरू सहनु एक नियति बनेको थियो।
अपमानको प्रबलता
चम्सुरीको चुरिफुरी योजनाबद्ध अपमानले भरिएको थियो। उनी दिलेलाई गिज्याउँदै भन्थिन्, “तँ मेरो घरमा भिखारीजस्तो थिइस्!” आजकल उनी दिलेले जे गर्यो त्यो उनकै कारणले भएकोमा घमण्ड गर्छिन्।
चम्सुरीको चुरिफुरीको कुनै सीमा थिएन। उनले आफ्ना पति नक्कलेको काका, काकी र उनीहरूका छोराछोरीहरूलाई पनि उत्तिकै विषालु बोलीले निरन्तर होच्याउँथिन्। मुश्किलले इन्टरमिडिएट परीक्षा पास गरेकी भए पनि, उनी नेपाली मामिलादेखि विश्व राजनीतिसम्म सबै कुरामा ज्ञाता भएको नाटक गर्थिन्।
आगन्तुकहरूसँग उनको मनपर्ने वाक्यांश आत्म-बढाइको मन्त्र जस्तै थियो: “मैले तिनीहरूलाई खुवाएँ! मैले तिनीहरूलाई लुगा लगाइदिएँ!”—मानौं आधारभूत शिष्टता कुनै ठूलो दान हो। अब, आफूलाई एक स्वघोषित सेयर बजार विशेषज्ञको रूपमा पुन: आविष्कार गरेपछि, उनी सुकुनी, मुकुनी, गोमी र दाउरी जस्ता महिला साथीहरूसँग हिमचिम बढाउँछिन्। उनी पति नक्कलेको एउटा आफन्तको रेस्टुरेन्टहरूमा जमघट गर्छिन्, हरेक भेलालाई नक्कलेको अन्य आफन्तहरूलाई पनि गाली गर्न र अपमानित गर्ने अवसरको रूपमा प्रयोग गर्छिन्।
यसैबीच, झुम्री पर्दा पछाडिबाट हेर्दै थिइन्, कार्टुन खलनायकजस्तो हात रगड्दै। “मेरी छोरीले चिटटा जितिन्,” उनी विश्वासपात्रहरूलाई हाँस्दै भन्थिन्। “धनी पति र यस्तो मूर्ख परिवार जसलाई सजिलै ठग्न सकिन्छ!”
चङ्खे र अन्य गाउँलेहरू, सधैं अवसरवादी, यस अराजकतामा फस्टाए। उनीहरू चम्सुरीको गालीगलौजमा सहमति जनाउँथे, अनि दिलेलाई फुसफुसाउँथे, “यस पटक उनी धेरै अगाडि बढिन्,” मानौं उनीहरूले नै उनको आगोलाई बढावा दिएका थिएनन्। उनीहरूको दुई जिब्रे व्यवहार यति पालिस गरिएको थियो कि मगर्नी माताले पनि, जो रणनीतिमा नौली थिइनन्, उनीहरूलाई चिन्न सकिनन्।
शान्त उदय: दिलेको मौन लगनशीलता
जब चम्सुरीको धोकाको नृत्यले गाउँलाई मोहित पारेको थियो, दिलेले एउटा फरक कथा लेखिरहेको थियो —लचिलोपन र मौन दृढताको कथा। हरेक बिहान बिहानको अँध्यारोमा, जब गाउँ अघिल्लो रातको मेला र रक्सीको नशामा सुतिरहेको हुन्थ्यो, दिले आफ्नो पुस्तकहरूसँग ब्युँझिएको हुन्थ्यो मट्टितेलको बत्तीको उज्यालोमा पढ्दै। गाउँलेहरूले उसलाई त्यागिएकी श्रीमतीको छोराको रूपमा परिभाषित गर्न खोजे, तर दिलेलाई उनीहरूको परिभाषामा सीमित हुन मन लागेन। ती बिहानहरू वर्षौंको लगनशील अध्ययनमा परिणत भए। हरेक अपमान इन्धन बन्यो; हरेक अपमानले उसको संकल्पलाई बलियो बनायो। जब चम्सुरीले उसको गरिबीको खिल्ली उडाइन्, दिलेले क्रोधले होइन तर आफ्नो पुस्तकहरूमा लामो समय दिएर जवाफ दियो। जब गाउँलेहरूले उसलाई कम आँकलन गरे र भने कि उ केही बन्ने छैन, उसले स्कूल र कलेजको परीक्षामा राम्रो अंकले जवाफ दियो। जब चम्सुरी आफ्नो दर्शकहरूको लागि नाचिरहेकी थिइन्, दिलेले आफ्नो भविष्य निर्माण गरिरहेको थियो— एकै समयमा हजारौं परीक्षाहरू दिदै, अनि हजारौं बलिदानहरू गर्दै।
जहाँ अरूले पुतलीको छोरा मात्र देखे, उनका प्राध्यापकहरूले असाधारण स्पष्टता र दृढता भएको दिमाग चिने। छात्रवृत्तिहरू पछ्याए, त्यसपछि राम्रो पदहरू, त्यसपछि हेरफेरबाट होइन तर योग्यताबाट कमाएको सम्मान।
जब दिले स्नातकोत्तरको डिग्री पूरा गरेर गाउँ फर्कियो, केही परिवर्तन भएको थियो। जुन गाउँलेहरूले एक समय उसलाई वास्ता नगरी हेर्थे, अब उनीहरू अनिश्चितताका साथ उसको नजरमा नजर मिलाउँथे। चम्सुरीको रक्सी उत्सुकतापूर्वक स्वीकार गर्ने हातहरू अब उसग हात मिलाउन अगाडि बढे। यो सुरुमा सूक्ष्म थियो—कतै आदरपूर्ण नमस्कार, कतै “दिले सर”—तर यो स्पष्ट थियो। कथाले मोड लिन थालेको थियो।
भाग्यको चक्र घुम्छ
जब दिलेको भाग्य चम्कियो, चम्सुरीको फिक्का हुन थाल्यो। उनीहरूको शक्तिको जग रहेको रक्सीको व्यवसाय घट्दै गयो किनकि युवा गाउँलेहरूले कारखानाको रक्सी रुचाउन थालेका थिए। हेरफेरबाट जम्मा गरिएको जग्गाबाट कम उत्पादन हुन थाल्यो किनकि खेती गर्ने तरिकाहरू परिवर्तन भएका थिए। सबैभन्दा महत्त्वपूर्ण कुरा, जुन दर्शकहरू एक समय तमाशाबाट मोहित भएका थिए, उनीहरूले अब रुचि गुमाउन थालेका थिए।
नक्कले, जसले दशकौंसम्म आफ्नी पत्नी चम्सुरीका घोषणामा सहमति जनाउँदै आएका थिए, उनले घरको आर्थिक अवस्थाबारे प्रश्न गर्न थाले। उनीहरूको बचत जति हुनुपर्ने हो त्यति नभएको पत्ता लागेपछि असहज कुराकानीहरू भए जसबाट चम्सुरी नाचेर उम्किन सकिनन्। पहिलो पटक, जुन ध्यान उनले सावधानीपूर्वक अरूतिर मोडेकी थिइन्, त्यो फेरि उनीतिरै फर्कियो।
यसैबीच, दिले जिल्लाभर चर्चाको विषय बनेको थियो। उसका उपलब्धिहरू अब हल्ला मात्र थिएनन् तर गाउँमा सफलताका कथाहरूको रूपमा रिपोर्ट गरिएका तथ्यहरू थिए।
गाउँ ब्यूँझन्छ: अन्तस्करणको हिसाब
तर सबैभन्दा असाधारण परिवर्तन गाउँलेहरूमा नै भएको थियो। मानौं सामूहिक बेहोसीबाट ब्यूँझिएझैँ, उनीहरूले दशकौंदेखि स्वीकार गरेका कथाहरूको पुनर्मूल्यांकन गर्न थाले। पुतलीको छोरा, जसलाई उनीहरूले बेकार ठानेका थिए, अब आफ्नो गाउँभन्दा बाहिर पनि एक सम्मानित व्यक्ति थियो। जुन परिवारलाई उनीहरूले घृणा गरेका थिए, त्यो हेरफेरको सट्टा इमान्दार कामबाट समृद्ध भएको थियो। प्रश्नहरू असहज भए: के उनीहरू सधैं गलत थिए? के उनीहरू एक गिलास रक्सी र बचेको खानाको लागि अन्यायमा संलग्न थिए?
चङ्खे आफ्नो अपरिहार्य परिवर्तन गर्ने पहिलो व्यक्ति थिए। “मैले दिलेलाई सधैं भनेको थिएँ कि ऊ धेरै अगाडि बढ्नेछ,” उनले सुन्ने जो कोहीलाई घोषणा गरे, दशकौँको विश्वासघातलाई सुविधाजनक रूपमा बिर्सदै। बुर्चे, इन्द्रे र अन्यले पनि चाँडै पछ्याए, प्रत्येकले गाउँको नाटकमा आफ्नै भूमिका पुनर्लेखन गर्दै। “हामीलाई सधैं थाहा थियो कि त्यो केटामा केही विशेष छ,” उनीहरू भन्थे, बुद्धिमानीपूर्वक टाउको हल्लाउँदै मानौं उनीहरू सुरुदेखि नै गोप्य समर्थक थिए।
चम्सुरीका छोराछोरीहरूले पनि, जो आफ्नो श्रेष्ठताको कथाहरूमा हुर्किएका थिए, उनीहरूले आफ्नै आँखा अगाडि देखेको प्रमाणलाई बेवास्ता गर्न सकेनन्। उनकी आमाले भिखारी भनेर हेपेको काकाको अब काठमाडौंमा घर थियो। जुन फुपूलाई उनीहरूलाई खिल्ली उडाउन सिकाइएको थियो, उनले सम्मान माग्नु नपर्ने छोराछोरी हुर्काएकी थिइन्। शंकाका बीजहरू रोपिएका थिए, र उनकी आमाले जवाफ दिन नसक्ने प्रश्नहरू अंकुराउन थालेका थिए।
बूढी पुतली, जसले दशकौँसम्म मौन मर्यादाका साथ अपमान सहेकी थिइन्, यो परिवर्तन देख्न बाँचिन्। यद्यपि उनले कहिल्यै बदलाको कुरा गरिनन्, गाउँमा हिँड्दा उनको हल्का सीधा भएको काँधले धेरै कुरा बताउँथ्यो। जुन महिलाहरूले एक समय उनको पछाडि कुरा गर्थे, अब उनीहरूको सल्लाह खोज्थे। जुन पुरुषहरूले उनलाई वास्ता गर्दैनथे, अब उसको उपस्थितिमा आफ्नो टोपी फुकाल्थे। यो न्याय थिएन—दशकौँको क्रूरताको क्षतिपूर्ति केहीले गर्न सक्दैनथ्यो—तर यो स्वीकृति थियो, र पुतलीको लागि त्यो पर्याप्त थियो।
पूर्ण चक्र: सत्यको उदय
यस गाउँको नाटकको अन्तिम दृश्य वर्षको सबैभन्दा ठूलो चाडको बेला मञ्चन भयो। समुदाय दशैंको लागि भेला भएको थियो, र परम्परा अनुसार, ज्येष्ठहरूले कान्छाहरूलाई आशीर्वाद दिए। जब दिले भेलामा प्रवेश गर्यो, कुराकानी शान्त भयो। उ बेवास्ता गरिएकी पत्नीको छोराको रूपमा होइन तर हरेक बाधालाई पार गर्दै आफूलाई स्थापित गरेको व्यक्तिको रूपमा फर्किएको थियो।
एक वृद्ध मानिस, जो एक समय मगर्नी माताका सबैभन्दा समर्पित अनुयायीहरूमध्ये थिए, थरथर काम्दै उठे। “मैले केही भन्नु छ,” उनले घोषणा गरे, उनको स्वर उमेर र भावनाले काँपिरहेको थियो। “वर्षौंसम्म, हामीले सानो गुनहरू—एक गिलास रक्सी यहाँ, एक छाक खाना त्यहाँ—बाट अन्धो हुन दियौं। हामीले जे सजिलो थियो त्यो देख्न रोज्यौं, सत्य के थियो त्यो होइन।” असहज स्वीकृतिमा टाउको हल्लाए। “हामी दिलेको परिवारको बारेमा गलत थियौं। हामी धेरै कुरामा गलत थियौं।”
चम्सुरी, एक कुनामा बसेकी, उनको पहिरन अब अलिक फिक्का भएको, उनको दर्शकहरू धेरै कम भएका, हेरिरहेकी थिइन् जब जुन गाउँ एक समय उनको मञ्च थियो, त्यसले उनको प्रदर्शनमा आफ्नो भूमिका स्वीकार गर्यो। उनले आफ्नो जीवनभर चाहेको पहिचान अन्ततः उनको भयो, तर उनले सोचेको जस्तो होइन। उनलाई विजयी गाउँकी रानीको रूपमा होइन तर एक चेतावनीपूर्ण कथाको रूपमा चिनियो—एक महिला जसले धोकामा आफ्नो साम्राज्य निर्माण गरिन्, तर सत्यको भारले त्यसलाई भत्किएको हेर्न बाध्य भइन्।
दिलेले गाउँको जागरणलाई त्यही शान्त मर्यादाका साथ स्वीकार गर्यो जसरी उसले उनीहरूको घृणा सहेको थियो। उसलाई यो भ्रम थिएन कि मानव स्वभावमा मौलिक रूपमा परिवर्तन भएको छ—जुन गाउँलेहरूले अहिले उसको प्रशंसा गरिरहेका छन्, उनीहरूले सित्तैमा रक्सी दिने अर्को व्यक्तिलाई पनि सजिलै पछ्याउन सक्छन्। तर केही परिवर्तन भएको थियो। एउटा पाठ सिकिएको थियो, यदि एक पुस्ताको लागि मात्र भए पनि।
अन्तमा, चम्सुरीले आफ्नो नृत्य जारी राखिन्, यद्यपि कम ऊर्जा र कम दर्शकहरूको लागि। झुम्रीका षड्यन्त्रहरू युवतीहरूलाई हेरफेरबाट बच्न चेतावनी दिन सुनाइने कथाहरू बने। मगर्नी माताको रक्सीले आफ्नो शक्ति गुमायो, जसरी उनको प्रभावले गुमाएको थियो। र दिले, जसले यस कथाको नायक बन्न कहिल्यै खोजेको थिएन, तैपनि त्यही भूमिकामा भेटियो।
जब चाड सकियो र दिले काठमाडौंमा आफ्नो नियमित काममा तयारी गर्दै थियो, बूढा मानिस फेरि उकहाँ आए। “तिमीलाई थाहा थियो यो दिन आउनेछ, होइन र? त्यसैले तिमीले कहिल्यै प्रतिरोध गरेनौ, कहिल्यै उनीहरूको स्तरमा झरेनौ।”
दिले मुस्कुरायो र उसले सम्झ्यो बिहान अँध्यारो हुनुअघि उठेका सबै बिहानहरू, बत्तीको उज्यालोमा पढेका सबै रातहरू, अरूको धारणाबाट परिभाषित हुन अस्वीकार गरेका सबै वर्षहरू। “मलाई थाहा थिएन यो दिन आउछ भनेर,” उसले स्वीकार गर्यो। उसले फेरि थप्यो “तर मलाई थाहा थियो म को हुँ। त्यो पर्याप्त थियो।”
वेदानपुर गाउँमा नाच सकिए पनि संगीत बजिरहेको थियो—अब फरक धुन, पहिचान, पश्चात्ताप र सायद, मुक्तिको! वेदानपुर गाउँमा जस्तै हरेक गाउँमा सत्यको विजय हुन केही समय लाग्न सक्छ, तर सत्यलाई कसैले पनि सदाको लागि मार्न सक्दैन र यो कहिल्यै पूर्ण रूपमा अस्वीकार हुँदैन ।
(कृपया ध्यान दिनुहोस् कि यो एक काल्पनिक कथा हो र यदि यो तपाईंको वा तपाईंले चिनेको कसैको जीवनसँग मेल खाएमा, यो एक संयोग मात्र हुनेछ।)
In our culture that often prizes harmony over honesty, writing truthfully feels like walking a tightrope without a net. Every word risks offending someone, challenging tradition, or exposing uncomfortable realities we’ve collectively agreed to ignore. Yet this is precisely why we need writers willing to take that risk.
The journey of truth-telling in Nepali communities comes with invisible burdens. As Chitra Pradhan often observes in his thoughtful social media commentaries, those who don’t understand you may attack you first. But his wisdom reminds us that beyond the initial resistance lies potential for meaningful dialogue – if we’re brave enough to persist through the discomfort.
The reality of writing truth in our communities comes with invisible price tags. Like Chitra Pradhan experienced, there’s a special kind of isolation that comes with voicing uncomfortable truths. Social media becomes a theater where friends cheer from the shadows but refuse to stand beside you in the light. They’ll message privately – “I agree with you but…” – while their public profiles show conspicuous silence. The same people who egg you on to be bolder will be first to whisper “I knew he’d get in trouble” when backlash comes.
I’ve felt this tension personally. My own wife, my most honest critic, frequently asks with concern: “Why write what will make people angry?” Her worry reflects our collective conditioning – we’ve been taught that keeping the peace matters more than speaking truth. When corruption masquerades as tradition and injustice gets dismissed as “just how things are,” breaking the silence does make you a target.
Yet beneath this surface of enforced harmony flows an underground current of solidarity. The private messages that arrive like secret handshakes – “You said what I couldn’t.” The knowing glances from acquaintances in Tim Hortons. These moments reveal our society’s painful contradiction: we punish public dissent while privately craving someone to voice the truths we all see but dare not name. In this sense, those who dare to write about these community issues are black rams!
Writers like Punya Sagar Marahatta embody this necessary courage. Through his incisive commentary on issues like “unknown candidates” in our elections or the “fake refugees” phenomenon, he demonstrates how truth-telling can illuminate our collective shadows. His work, like that of many others, faces the predictable cycle of initial resistance followed by grudging recognition – exactly as Chitra Pradhan describes.
The resistance we face says less about our writing and more about how uncomfortable growth feels. Every cultural shift begins with someone saying aloud what everyone knows but won’t acknowledge.
As readers and writers, we face a choice: will we continue whispering our truths in private while maintaining polite silence in public? Or will we create spaces – in our conversations, our social media, our communities – where honest dialogue can flourish?
The next time you read something that challenges but resonates, consider this: your silence protects the status quo, but your engagement – a like, a comment, a conversation – helps change it. The writers brave enough to speak truth need readers brave enough to stand with them.
After all, a society that only tolerates comfortable truths will never grow beyond them. Our collective future depends on having these uncomfortable conversations today. Who will you support in speaking them?
Today is Monday, April 28, the Canada Election Day! Even if I wish for the next Liberal Government under the leadership of Mark Carney, I wish all three Nepali candidates (Bijay Paudel, Bhutila Karpoche and Prashant Dhakal) all the best for their victory! If you have not voted already, please vote! It is your civic right and please exercise this right prudently!”
Before we enter into today’s topic, let’s have a look at these thinkings:
Nepali: “Nepalis never change, even in Canada!”
Indians: “These Indian people are like that.”
Bangladeshi: “Our Bangla people are just too jealous!”
Let’s start with double standards in diaspora identity. When I recently questioned the automatic support for Bijay Paudel solely based on his Nepali identity, the reactions exposed a fascinating contradiction in our diaspora psychology. The same community members who take immense pride in Nepali achievements simultaneously deploy self-deprecating tropes like “Nepalis never change, even in Canada!” to dismiss legitimate concerns. And, have a look at this one, too:
“The division is Nepal’s shared heritage—some label it as intellectualism, others advocate for wisdom, some politicize it, while many pursue selfish agendas. But however it unfolds, we must keep fighting. We must never give up—whether in Nepal or abroad. We must never abandon our identity. Long live Nepal! Long live Nepalis! Long live our intellect! Long live our conscience and political awareness! We built Nepal—with this same determination, Canada too will prosper. Let your intellect continue to guide the way!”
Both the statements above are from my own Facebook Wall!
This double standard bothered me a lot, and I wanted to study more about it. I came to know that it is common in other communities as well, at least among South Asians. This phenomenon—visible across South Asian diasporas from Indians saying “These Indian people are like that” to Bangladeshis lamenting “Our Bangla people are just too jealous!”—reveals deeper tensions about identity, power, and integration. These types of thinking or double standards really bothered me, and I wanted to know more about them.
These reactions stem from what postcolonial scholar Homi Bhabha calls “mimicry”—the colonized subject’s internalization of outsider perspectives. The Defensive Nationalist seeks white approval through respectability politics (“See how united we are!”), while the Exceptionalist craves inclusion by distancing themselves from the group (“I’m not like those other Nepalis”). Both positions:
Reduce complex policy debates to personality conflicts
Assume Western political norms are inherently superior
Ignore that healthy democracies require robust intragroup criticism
Moving beyond this paradox requires fundamental shifts in how we engage politically. First, we must learn to separate ethnic pride from policy substance.
Second, we need to reclaim “community” as an active practice rather than a passive identity. Real solidarity manifests in organizing town halls where candidates must explain policy specifics beyond photo-op platitudes.
Finally, we must normalize constructive criticism as healthy democratic practice, not “leg-pulling.” When someone dismisses policy questions as “typical Nepali negativity,” reframe the conversation: Point out how Filipino nurses achieved credential reforms through persistent advocacy, Indian-Canadians secured Punjabi language services in BC hospitals, or how Iranian-Canadians secured Farsi interpretation services by holding politicians accountable. Our community deserves the same rigor—not because we’re “backward,” but because we’re invested in building lasting power. The measure of our diaspora’s maturity won’t be whether we cheer loudest for Nepali candidates, but whether we can simultaneously take pride in their achievement while demanding they deliver measurable results.
The test of our diaspora’s maturity isn’t whether we produce Nepali politicians, but whether we can tell them: “We’re proud you’re Nepali—now here’s precisely how you’ll address our community’s needs.” When we transition from defensive pride to policy-smart engagement, we’ll stop being surprised that Nepalis can both celebrate our identity and demand better from each other—because that’s what thriving communities do.
Introduction: The Delight of Linguistic Discovery I never expected my playful observation about a political sign would spark such controversy. There it was—a conservative leader’s campaign board reading “Axe the Tax on Homes,” its words awkwardly divided across two lines. To my linguist’s eye, the accidental double meaning was irresistible: “Stop Sales / Tax Homes!!” The irony was perfect—a tax-cutting slogan that, through clumsy design, could be read as advocating precisely what it opposed. I shared this humorous linguistic discovery online, anticipating fellow word enthusiasts might enjoy the joke. Instead, I witnessed how quickly language play collides with political tribalism, and how our capacity for humor evaporates when ideology enters the conversation.
The Battle Over Meaning The responses fell into distinct camps. The first commenter, a linguistically-inclined friend, set the tone with measured analysis: “When the given sentence is divided into two sentences, then you are right! Otherwise, I do not agree.” His distinction was crucial – he acknowledged the design’s ambiguity without dismissing the intended policy. My reply – “They divided it (for a reason), not I!” – highlighted how the sign’s formatting created the double meaning. His follow-up (“This is design, not a divide”) further clarified his view.
Then another participant offered a diplomatic perspective: “Yes, both of you are correct. It’s a very ambiguous sentence.” This comment was a quiet masterstroke, validating both perspectives while modeling how to depoliticize language.
The Spectrum of Reactions The literalists analyzed the sign as a communication failure. One noted: “It should read ‘Axe the sales tax on new homes,'” pointing out how line breaks create unintended meanings. The defenders reacted as if I’d launched a political attack rather than a grammatical observation. “You’re misleading people!” insisted one particularly vocal participant, who later escalated: “It was deliberately made misleading by you… Someone like you shouldn’t do this seriously.” This revealed a deeper pattern – for some, any interpretation diverging from party orthodoxy wasn’t just wrong, but malicious.
The Psychology Behind the Responses What fascinated me wasn’t the disagreement, but how predictably it followed documented psychological patterns. One defender shifted the conversation completely: “Nepali people never change, even in Canada! If you don’t understand English, try French!” Where some saw typography, others saw ideology.
Another participant’s evolving position was particularly telling. They first dismissed the conversation as “AI-generated info,” but later conceded it was simply “a design problem.” This reversal mirrored the classic pattern of conspiracy thinking – initial defensive outrage giving way to reluctant acknowledgment of facts.
The Conversation Spirals: Defensiveness and Distortions The discussion took revealing turns when certain participants:
Framed sarcastic remarks as honoring cultural heritage
Made striking accusations completely absent from the original post
Sought validation from respected community figures
One observer’s graceful refusal to be drawn in – “Don’t drag me into the dirt” – and another’s probing questions – “Where were Indigenous people defamed?” – underscored how far the conversation had diverged. The most insightful commentary came from those who understood political language operates on multiple levels: “Are we looking at formal or lexical semantics?”
Language as a Political Weapon The campaign sign wasn’t just policy – it was a rhetorical Rorschach test. Supporters saw their preferred meaning, critics saw the clumsy messaging, and the campaign benefited from the engagement either way. This phenomenon isn’t unique to Canadian politics; similar vague, feel-good phrasing appears in slogans worldwide.
A Mirror for Our Digital Age This micro-drama reflects our broader information crisis. When participants accused me of “deliberately misleading,” they weren’t engaging with the post – they were reacting to perceived threats to their political identity. We’ve become so accustomed to political warfare that even playful analysis gets weaponized.
Conclusion: Playfulness as Political Mirror This entire episode began with what should have been an uncontroversial truth: language is inherently playful, and design choices create unintended meanings. My amusement at the sign’s ambiguity wasn’t just about the words themselves, but about how they revealed the fragility of political messaging.
The most telling response wasn’t the disagreement—it was the complete inability of some participants to even recognize the linguistic playfulness. Their insistence that “no competent English speaker could misunderstand the sign” ironically demonstrated their own constrained perception. In policing my observation, they revealed how political allegiance can literally narrow what we’re able to see in plain language.
Three crucial lessons emerge:
Humor is ideological – What one person finds amusing, another perceives as attack
Design has politics – Even accidental ambiguities reveal messaging vulnerabilities
Playfulness is power – The ability to see multiple meanings resists political framing
Perhaps the healthiest democratic practice would be embracing—rather than attacking—those who point out clumsy messaging. After all, if we can’t laugh at awkward phrasing, how will we ever confront substantive policy differences? The sign’s true revelation wasn’t its policy position, but how fiercely we’ll defend our team’s sloppy design—and how angrily we’ll attack those who notice it.
As Canadians prepare to vote in a pivotal federal election, five major political parties are offering contrasting visions for the nation’s future—Prime Minister Mark Carney’s Liberals, Pierre Poilievre’s Conservatives, Jagmeet Singh’s New Democratic Party (NDP), Yves-François Blanchet’s Bloc Québécois, and Elizabeth May’s Green Party.
Although early media forecasts predicted a Conservative landslide, Mark Carney’s unexpected entry as Liberal leader in March 2025 dramatically reshaped the political landscape. By drawing significant support from traditional NDP voters, Carney has transformed what seemed a foregone conclusion into a competitive three-way contest, fundamentally redefining the stakes of the 2025 election.
The Leadership Contrast: Statesman vs. Perpetual Opponent
This election may offer the starkest leadership contrast in recent Canadian history. Mark Carney, the only person to have led both the Bank of Canada (2008–2013) and the Bank of England (2013–2020), brings economic expertise and global credibility. His leadership during the 2008 global financial crisis and his authorship of key climate finance frameworks underscore a reputation for thoughtful, evidence-based policymaking.
Pierre Poilievre, by contrast, has honed a reputation for perpetual opposition. In Ottawa, political observers describe his style as “oppositionism”—offering relentless criticism with little in the way of constructive alternatives. From blaming Prime Minister Justin Trudeau for global inflation to mocking climate policy without proposing viable energy alternatives, Poilievre has often reduced national discourse to partisan soundbites.
Immigration and Economic Policy: Two Diverging Paths
Carney’s Liberals continue to support Canada’s high-immigration model, welcoming over 400,000 newcomers in 2024. The policy addresses labor shortages and supports an aging population, with experts noting the positive impact on GDP and innovation. However, the sudden growth—amplified by 650,000 international students in 2023—has intensified Canada’s housing crisis, especially in cities like Toronto and Vancouver.
In February 2025, the government capped study permits at 437,000 to relieve pressure on housing and infrastructure. Though controversial, many economists believe this step was necessary to prevent further overheating of the market.
The Conservatives have seized on these challenges, promoting a “merit-based” immigration system. However, they have offered few details, and their rhetoric often recalls Stephen Harper-era policies that restricted family reunification and slashed refugee support—policies now blamed for workforce shortages in healthcare and construction.
Trade, Trump, and the Shadow of Protectionism
The specter of Donald Trump’s political resurgence has cast an unexpected shadow over Canada’s election. When Trump unexpectedly praised Mark Carney during a March 2025 interview, describing their phone conversation as “very meaningful” Conservative strategists scrambled to weaponize this diplomatic courtesy as proof of Liberal weakness on trade. Their efforts backfired spectacularly.
Seasoned observers recognized what Trump himself acknowledged – Carney’s unique credibility as the only leader to have successfully navigated both the 2008 financial crisis and Brexit turbulence. This credibility became Canada’s shield when Trump imposed aluminum and steel tariffs weeks later. While Carney responded with targeted subsidies for affected manufacturers and accelerated negotiations with the EU, Pierre Poilievre could only offer theatrical visits to steel plants, his empty rhetoric exposing the Conservative leader’s inability to match Carney’s nuanced statecraft.
For Canada’s trade-dependent economy, where 72 cents of every dollar earned comes from international commerce, this contrast couldn’t be starker – nor more consequential.
The Nepalese-Canadian Political Awakening
Canada’s Nepali diaspora finds itself at a defining crossroads, its political maturation tested by three competing visions embodied by its candidates:
Bijay Paudel (Conservative) – The NRNA leader’s campaign thrives on ethnic solidarity despite his party’s anti-immigration stance. His connections overshadow policy contradictions that would see family reunification programs gutted even as Nepal faces climate crises exacerbated by the very carbon tax he vows to eliminate.
Bhutila Karpoche (NDP) – Her landmark achievements on rent control and pharmacare go curiously ignored by the community she shares heritage with, her Tibetan-Nepali identity somehow rendering her less “authentic” in the eyes of those who claim to value representation.
Prashant Dhakal (Green Party) – The Ottawa West-Nepean candidate, whose climate tech background and advocacy for skilled immigrant credential recognition present the diaspora with its starkest generational choice yet. Where Paudel offers nostalgic cultural familiarity and Karpoche delivers progressive policy results, Dhakal forces a confrontation with planetary urgency.
This trio exposes deepening fault lines between ethnic solidarity and policy alignment. When activist Punya Sagar Marahatta questioned these contradictions in his viral post “The Unknown Candidate,” he revealed selective solidarity—where Paudel is embraced but Karpoche and Dhakal are marginalized—along with persistent hierarchies of caste, ethnicity, and generation.
Three Factions Evolve
The Nepalese-Canadian community’s political consciousness has crystallized into three distinct orientations, each reflecting broader Canadian political currents while wrestling with diaspora-specific tensions:
Traditionalists anchor themselves to Bijay Paudel’s Conservative candidacy with uncritical fervor, their allegiance to cultural identity trumping policy contradictions that would see them support a party advocating immigration restrictions harmful to their own community’s growth. This mirrors the Conservative base’s broader prioritization of cultural symbolism over material outcomes.
Reformers find themselves torn between Bhutila Karpoche’s proven track record on housing justice and Prashant Dhakal’s urgent climate agenda – a schism within progressive politics that sees the diaspora’s younger activists debating whether shelter or sustainability constitutes the more pressing frontline struggle.
Pragmatists, perhaps most intriguingly, operate as the community’s political barometer, their small business interests and centrist instincts making them alternately receptive to Paudel’s tax cut promises, Karpoche’s affordability measures, and Dhakal’s green entrepreneurship vision depending on which platform best addresses their immediate economic anxieties.
What unites these factions is their collective departure from passive ethnic bloc voting toward the messy but necessary work of issue-based political engagement – a maturation that ironically sees the Nepalese-Canadian political landscape increasingly resembling the complex pluralism of Canada itself.
The Stakes for Canada—and Nepalese-Canadians
This election transcends partisan preferences to confront Canadians with existential questions about the nation’s soul. Mark Carney’s candidacy represents the promise of competent globalism, his rare dual central banking experience offering ballast against the storms of Trumpian protectionism and climate disruption.
Pierre Poilievre’s Conservatives peddle the empty calories of perpetual grievance, his “just axe the tax” sloganeering substituting for serious policy while offering no meaningful alternative to address either affordability or environmental crises. Jagmeet Singh’s NDP, meanwhile, watches its historical progressive base erode as Carney’s Liberals co-opt their policy space – a political realignment leaving democratic socialists without a natural home.
For Nepalese-Canadians, these national dynamics manifest as a painful microcosm. The community must decide whether to follow its instincts toward the tribal comfort of Bijay Paudel’s ethnic familiarity, or embrace the policy substance offered by both Karpoche and Dhakal despite their lack of cultural cachet. This tension between ancestral loyalty and civic responsibility mirrors Canada’s own defining challenge – whether to retreat into the false security of identity politics or advance toward the more demanding but ultimately more rewarding terrain of evidence-based governance. The diaspora’s decision may well preshadow the nation’s.
Conclusion: A Test of Political Maturity
Canada stands at a crossroads. The 2025 federal election is a test not only of political leadership but of the nation’s democratic maturity. Will Canada choose evidence-based governance and inclusive policymaking—or retreat into grievance-driven populism? For immigrant communities, including Nepalese-Canadians, this moment demands more than tribal allegiances. It calls for thoughtful civic participation that values competence, transparency, and equity over mere representation. As the world watches, Canada must decide whether it will embrace a future defined by global engagement and evidence-based policy, or veer toward isolationism and identity politics. The path chosen will shape the country’s economy, identity, and global standing for generations to come.
Eastern vs. Western Rhetoric: The Value of Silence vs. Voice
Growing up in Nepal, I was taught that silence was a virtue. Questioning authority—whether parents, teachers, or bosses—was seen as disrespectful, rebellious, or even dangerous. Knowledge was often treated as absolute, handed down by elders, religious texts, or societal norms. To challenge it was to invite suspicion.
This cultural conditioning creates a society where conformity is rewarded and dissent is suppressed. The danger? A single, unchallenged “truth” dominates, leaving no room for dialogue or growth. As James Berlin’s socio-epistemic rhetoric suggests, knowledge is not absolute but socially constructed through exchange and debate. Yet, in many Eastern traditions, questioning is discouraged, and those who speak up—like me myself and Punya Sagar Marahatta and a few others—are labeled as troublemakers.
In Western rhetoric, however, silence is often viewed with suspicion. Leaders are expected to articulate their positions—when they don’t, they are criticized for hiding their true intentions. When Mark Carney, the future potential Canadian Prime Minister, briefly left the election campaign trail for the third time recently to return to Ottawa and discuss Donald Trump’s proposed tariffs with other world leaders, the move was interpreted with deep significance. Yves-François Blanchet, leader of the Bloc Québécois, seized on Carney’s absence, accusing him of hiding from public scrutiny. Blanchet’s implication was clear: Carney preferred conducting high-stakes negotiations behind closed doors rather than engaging openly with voters.
But this distrust of silence extends beyond politics: in workplaces, employees who don’t speak up in meetings are seen as disengaged; in classrooms, quiet students risk being overlooked; and in social circles, prolonged silence is often misinterpreted as disapproval or disconnection. The Western ideal of participatory democracy and open discourse leaves little room for comfortable silence—it demands vocal engagement as proof of presence and commitment.
But is silence always negative? Cheryl Glenn’s Silence: A Rhetorical Art argues that silence can be more powerful than speech. The Romantic poet John Keats wrote, “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.” There is profound meaning in silence—but also danger.
The Double-Standard of Silent Disapproval
When I write about Nepali community issues—whether real estate exploitation, political hypocrisy, or unethical business practices—many agree privately but fear public association. After I wrote about Bijay Paudel’s Conservative Party alignment, some applauded me in private messages but hesitated to talk about it publicly. They feared backlash, revealing a deep cultural reluctance to openly dissent.
This silence is deceptive. Those who remain quiet while privately disapproving are more dangerous than outspoken critics. At least with critics, you know where they stand. But silent dissenters maintain a façade of loyalty while nurturing resentment. For example, let’s take an example of Nepali community members’ support for Bijay Paudel this Canadian Federal Election. Bijay likely interprets the photo-ops and crowded campaign office as genuine support, unaware how many attend just for free food, social clout, or fear of being seen as “disloyal” to the community’s perceived unity. The tragedy isn’t just the hypocrisy, but how this culture of performative allegiance silences meaningful debate about whether supporting any Nepali candidate—regardless of their politics or integrity—truly serves our collective interests.
The Cost of Being Truth-Tellers
Looks like Punya Sagar and I are often labeled as “disruptive” or “controversial” because we refuse to stay silent. Whether exposing fake refugee schemes, diploma mill exploitations, community and political hypocrisy, exploitation of community sentiments for business, and wrong real estate practices, we bring these issues into the open—not to divide, but to spark necessary conversations. At minimum, we strive to make our community aware of practices that ultimately harm us all. Yet when we ask these difficult questions, why are we so often treated as adversaries rather than allies in progress?
The answer lies in a painful truth: unhealthy communities mistake harmony for health. They prioritize the illusion of unity over accountability. But a society that grows stronger does so through open dialogue, not enforced silence. The real obstacle to progress isn’t those who speak up—it’s those who privately acknowledge problems yet publicly remain quiet, allowing harmful norms to persist through their inaction.
Why Our Community Needs More Than Silent Support
In our community’s ongoing journey toward meaningful change, writing stands as one of our most transformative tools – capable not only of critiquing but also of healing and reshaping perspectives. This realization became especially clear to me when Chitra Pradhan responded to a comment on Punya Sagar’s post about Prashanta Dhakal that had dismissed the value of writing. While some contended that financial support for Nepali candidates was more immediately important, Chitra eloquently articulated writing’s unique power: its capacity to preserve truths, alter viewpoints, effect change that outlasts election cycles, and offer alternative perspectives (a favorite concept of Chitra) on social and communal matters.
These alternative perspectives serve as crucial instruments for dismantling the idea of a singular truth in our era of multiple, coexisting truths. They help individuals understand that their personal truths may not align with others’ realities. Truth’s multiplicity encompasses whose truth we’re considering, when it applies, where it’s valid, and how it comes to be accepted as truth.
This cultural shift, though gradual, is unmistakable. Increasing numbers of community members are now engaging in this collective knowledge-building. Punya Sagar’s Facebook posts, for instance, regularly spark active discussions among Nepalis both in Canada and worldwide. Punya himself and Chitra Pradhan stand out as particularly engaged contributors to these dialogues. Observing this evolution fills me with hope. Through my own extensive writing about our community’s social, cultural and political challenges, I’ve witnessed writing’s unique capacity to ignite conversations that years of silent conformity failed to produce. Writing does more than reveal problems – it sows the seeds for their resolution.
Conclusion: Breaking the Culture of Silence
Silence can be powerful—but when misused, it becomes a tool of oppression. My cross-cultural experience has taught me that those who speak, despite backlash, are not the true threats. The real threats are the ones who nod in agreement publicly but whisper criticisms in the dark.
It’s time to move beyond fear. Whether in Eastern or Western contexts, progress demands voices that challenge, question, and refuse to conform. Because in the end, unspoken truths are far more dangerous than the ones we dare to say aloud.
Please know that Silence isn’t peace—it’s postponed conflict. From kitchen tables to boardrooms, the unspoken tensions we ignore today become the ruptures we can’t mend tomorrow. The choice isn’t between harmony and chaos, but between honest dialogue and collective dysfunction.
As Canada moves closer to the 2025 federal election, the Nepali diaspora in Canada stands at a critical moment of political self-reflection. The community’s engagement with electoral politics is being shaped not just by party loyalties, but by deeper questions of identity, belonging, and generational priorities.
Canada’s Nepali diaspora finds itself at a defining crossroads, its political maturation tested by three competing visions embodied by its candidates. Bijay Paudel’s Conservative campaign thrives on ethnic solidarity despite his party’s anti-immigration stance, his NRNA connections overshadowing policy contradictions that would see family reunification programs gutted even as Nepal faces climate crises exacerbated by the very carbon tax he vows to eliminate.
Meanwhile, Bhutila Karpoche’s landmark achievements on rent control and pharmacare go curiously ignored by the community she shares heritage with, her Tibetan-Nepali identity somehow rendering her less “authentic” in the eyes of those who claim to value representation.
Into this fray steps Prashant Dhakal, the Green Party’s Ottawa West-Nepean candidate, whose climate tech background and advocacy for skilled immigrant credential recognition present the diaspora with its starkest generational choice yet. Where Paudel offers nostalgic cultural familiarity and Karpoche delivers progressive policy results, Dhakal forces a confrontation with planetary urgency – his carbon pricing plan disproportionately benefiting low-income newcomers even as it draws skepticism from older small business owners.
When activist Punya Sagar Marahatta’s viral post “The Unknown Candidate” exposed these contradictions, it revealed more than selective solidarity; it laid bare the community’s unexamined hierarchies of caste, generation and what truly constitutes “Nepali-ness” in Canadian politics. This trio exposes deepening fault lines between ethnic solidarity and policy alignment. When activist Punya Sagar Marahatta questioned these contradictions in his viral post “The Unknown Candidate,” he revealed selective solidarity—where Paudel is embraced but Karpoche and Dhakal are marginalized—along with persistent hierarchies of caste, ethnicity, and generation.
In this pivotal election, the choices facing Canada’s Nepali community are about more than candidates—they reflect broader tensions between tradition and transformation. How the community responds may well shape not just its political future, but its collective identity in Canada for years to come.
I hope you’re staying dry on this rainy day. Today, I want to discuss a property listing that has been on my mind for quite some time—not just because of its prolonged presence on the market, but because of the broader lessons it offers about real estate pitfalls.
What bothers me most is this: In the same neighborhood, countless houses have been listed and sold promptly. If they didn’t sell within a reasonable time, the listings were withdrawn—yet these two properties remain, defying the trend. Now, they risk becoming stigmatized listings—homes that buyers avoid simply because they’ve sat unsold for too long, sparking suspicions of hidden flaws or desperate sellers.
The listing in question (pictured) is a prime example of how overpromises, misplaced trust, and a lack of due diligence can turn a straightforward sale into a cautionary tale. Let’s break down why this property has struggled to sell—and what buyers and sellers can learn from its story.
The real estate market is often seen as a realm of opportunity, but it can also be fraught with pitfalls—especially when trust is misplaced, and due diligence is neglected. A recent listing in my neighborhood serves as a cautionary tale, revealing critical lessons for buyers, sellers, and investors alike.
The Story of House #56 and #58: A Case of Failed Promises
The property in question—House #56—is currently listed by a well-known realty brokerage that boldly claims, “We’ll buy the property if it doesn’t sell!” At first glance, this seems like a strong guarantee, but the history of this property (and its neighbor, House #58) tells a different story.
Both houses belong to the same owner, who appears to be facing financial distress. House #58 was initially listed by a Muslim female realtor but remained unsold for over a year. The owner then switched to another Muslim realtor who markets himself as a “real estate don” with a promise to purchase unsold listings. Yet, even under this Celebrity Realtor’s (he loves to be called it) representation, House #58 failed to sell and was eventually pulled off the market.
Now, House #56 has been listed for over six months with no success. The prolonged market exposure has likely stigmatized the property—buyers are wary of homes with long listing histories, assuming there must be something wrong.
The Big Question: Does this Celebrity Realtor Really Buy Unsold Listings?
This Celebrity Realtor’s promise raises skepticism. If his guarantee were genuine, why hasn’t he purchased House #56 or #58? The reality is that such claims may be more marketing gimmick than solid assurance. Sellers should be cautious of bold guarantees that aren’t backed by clear contractual terms.
Key Lessons for Buyers and Sellers
1. Don’t Choose an Agent Based on Religion, Culture, or Community Ties
The owner of Houses #56 and #58 switched from one Muslim realtor to another, possibly assuming shared background would ensure better service. However, competence, market knowledge, and negotiation skills matter far more than shared ethnicity or faith. Other homes in the same neighborhood are selling—just not these two.
Lesson: Hire professionals based on track record, not personal connections.
A dangerous trend in real estate is the “closed network”—where a realtor refers clients to their preferred mortgage broker, home inspector, or lawyer. While convenient, this can lead to conflicts of interest.
Inspection Failures: A Toronto buyer sued their realtor after discovering severe defects in their home—defects that the realtor’s “trusted inspector” had missed.
Mortgage Traps: Some buyers with strong finances were steered into expensive private mortgages by brokers within the same network, costing them thousands in extra interest.
Lesson: Always seek independent professionals. Never skip a proper inspection or rely solely on referrals from your agent.
3. Verify Everything—Don’t Blindly Trust
Many buyers, especially first-timers, assume that because their realtor is a friend or community member, they won’t be misled. Unfortunately, financial incentives can override loyalty.
Skipping Inspections: Buyers spending millions on a home often hesitate to spend $300 on an inspection, believing their agent’s assurances.
Ignoring Legal Docs: Some forego condo status certificates or land surveys, only to face costly surprises later.
Lesson: Trust, but verify. Pay for inspections, review condo documents, and get a land survey. These small costs prevent massive losses.
Final Thoughts: Protect Yourself in a Complex Market
The real estate market is cooling in many areas, and sellers must price realistically while buyers must conduct thorough due diligence. The saga of House #56 and #58 highlights:
Overpromises mean little without proof.
Networks can be traps if not scrutinized.
Independent verification is non-negotiable.
Whether buying or selling, approach real estate with a business mindset—not blind trust. The right professionals will welcome your diligence rather than discourage it.The Bottom Line: If a deal seems too reliant on personal connections rather than hard facts, step back and reassess. Your financial future depends on it.
