Skip to main content

MY CLOSE ENCOUNTERS WITH OUR FOURTH ESTATE

I eagerly awaited the daily delivery of the The Motherland newspaper at home because I could see the advertisement of the films running in the local cinemas of Kathmandu: Ashok Cinema in Patan and the rest of them were in the city, Ranjana, Bishwojyoti and Jai Nepal Chitra Ghar. It was a challenge how to get to the first show of a new release but some of my friends who were more centrally located were clever enough to secure tickets to them, Dipak Bir Singh and Pitamber Rana my school chums come to mind.


The Motherland was one of the first English daily to be published back in 1958 A.D. and circulated every morning, all 1800 copies of it! There was not much else to read in the papers then; the king and queen, sporting dark glasses and gloved hands, were always inaugurating something new for the benefit of their shirtless subjects, the prime minister and his ministers were singing paean to the party-less Panchayat polity deemed most suitable to the soil of Nepal. We studied the system at school, the soporific afternoon classes blissfully livened up by the the idiosyncrasy of the teachers if not the system itself. We all sniggered when a particular teacher announced, "History is the incident and accident of the past" while making himself more comfortable at his crotch. Those were more innocent times. There were no strikes and chakka jams, no notable cases of embezzlement and bribing, not even a pop of a small firearm to make an eye-catching headline. Papers were boring to read!


Actually The Commoner started by Mr. Gopal Das Shrestha as its editor back in 1956 A.D. was the first English language daily in Nepal. It had only 4 pages of national and international news.
I found overseas news interesting. Reading about the colossus of the times, leaders such as Nehru and Sukarno, Nkrumah and Nasser filled us with awe. The Cold War was actually pretty hot in those days with proxy battles of USA and the Soviet Union raging across the globe. Non-alignment made sense to the Third World.




Gorkhapatra the vernacular broadsheet was much more informative for those who read Nepali well, a feat not always mastered properly by us studying in the English medium in boarding schools. Gorkhapatra was the first newspaper in Nepal started by the liberal minded Prime Minister Maharjah Dev Shumsher in May of 1901 A.D. during his three short months in power. It was probably the time in Nepal, much like in Mao's China later, when they let a 'Hundred Flowers Bloom', the flowers were soon to wither away in Chandra Shumsher's long wintry rule.



Actually the first Type Printing Press was brought by Maharajah Jung Bahadur Rana from his visit to England and it was kept at his private residence in Thapathali for printing important government publications including his Muluki Ain, the legal coda for Nepal. As the printer had an embossing of an image of an eagle as its trademark, perhaps mistaking it for a vulture, the Nepalese nicknamed it "Giddhe Press". It was this press that was first used to print Gorkhapatra the vernacular broadsheet by Dev Shumsher. Only after 59 years of its publication did it become a daily newspaper from 1960 A.D. The Rising Nepal English daily was started by the government in 1965 A.D. with Mr. Barun Shumsher Rana as its editor and it is still being printed today almost as an act of defiance since its earlier relevance has been lost as it cannot compete against the richer private publications.

We have come a long way since. The press is vibrant in Nepal today and regularly reports on the malaise in society and malfeasance in governance. However the problem I see today is that the press has started to take sides and has become mouthpieces for the political parties. Unless the Fourth Estate is loyal to Nepal our motherland, there is a danger that I will stop reading them but look for movie advertisements only - just like in those days of my youth!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

BRONZE WARRIORS FOR EVER

D uring my first visit to Helsinki, Finland I was intrigued to find the huge statue of Tzar Alexander II adorning the center of Senate Square in the heart of the city. Didn't the Finns actually fight the Russians for independence? Then I remembered that, of course, Finland gained its independence during the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917 A.D. when Russia was convulsed by its civil war. Finland escaped the clutches of the Bolsheviks. A reformist Russian emperor is appreciated incongruously in a foreign country and not in his own! What is it about revolutions that the past has to be so negated? Does one have to end history to move forward, even while this motion is at the same time making history? Or is it the certitude of history repeating itself and toppling the present protagonists from their high pedestals that these revolutionaries are so afraid of? The French Revolution devoured its own children and gave birth to the French empire under Napoleon Bonaparte. Czar Nicholas II of...

THE GHOSTS FROM MY PAST

The Headless Horseman, Murkatta in Nepali, was the bogeyman conjured up by Nimbu Didi my nanny every time she wanted to frighten me into submission. The mere thought of this Netherworld being shut me up promptly and I meekly ate the uneatable porridge, or drank the untimely glass of milk or went to sleep when it was still playtime. Murkatta was galloping amok at the Kalo Pul , the Black Bridge constructed by Prime Minister Jung Bahadur Rana bridging the Patan side of town to Kathmandu at Teku. I could imagine this fearsome creature stealing past sentries into Kiran Bhawan, my father's mansion, at midnight looking for me. I used to shudder at the mere thought of it. The Pachali Bhairab Temple near the Black Bridge was the least of my favorite deities simply because the place was too spooky to explore. They told me one of the martyrs was hanged there. Even during my teens I never dared drive across that forlorn bridge, day or night. The Nepalese ghosts have so much in similarity...

FEATHERS IN THE CROWN

Maharajah Juddha Shumsher J. B. Rana with his Crown As a kid I used to gape in wonderment at the magnificent crown my father possessed not knowing that the jewels were only for show. The dark green, emerald drops were made of glass, the sparkling diamonds were probably zirconium, and the pearls were not of the best sort. Every Rana general had his personal crown in those days, and my father was no exception. I did not recognize the difference between this personal crown of father's and the other more valuable crown of the Nepalese Commander-in-Chief of the Army that my father was seen wearing in many a portrait displayed about the house. Little did I know that my father was the last person to put on his head the army chief's crown from the Rana era, real glittering diamonds, snow white pearls and thumb-sized emerald drops and all. The feather in the crown was the magnificent plumes of the Bird of Paradise that gave it such a majestic look. The Bird of ...