The Nepal bell, an echo decades later

It’s been over a decade since the people of an apparently forbidden terrain woke up and broke out of an administrative machinery that had once spawned many a dreams for them.
Eighty years ago, when the storm struck the stifling autocracy of the tsar and brought the advent of a new age with the promise of food for every stomach and hope for every heart, a gasping nation breathed afresh.
But, did their dreams come true? Did it help the cash-strapped republic in fighting with an inflating vacuum of wealth?
Perhaps no. And, that’s why when the frenzied mob pulled down the towering symbols of communism and uprooted the theory that they had been living with looked so horrid. It had triggered a racing pulse among statesmen across the world — no matter Left, Right or Centre.
The people’s rage had questioned the very integrity of a system. It had shaken the foundation of an administration that was perceived to be the way out of a life crammed in the fascist rule.
In 1917, Russia had perceived communism as a relief from the feudalistic and monarchical misery. In 2006, nearly 80 years after the Bolsheviks shook the world, Nepal displayed the rerun of a similar wakening.
It’s the people of this small nation, too insignificant and obscure being sandwiched among two superpowers — India and China — and tucked away in the lap of the Himalayas, who suddenly burst out in anger sending a jolt to the world’s impression of the country.
Nepal is not just the haven of junkies and a small Las Vegas away from the hustle and bustle of America. It treasures people who can raise their voice and shed their blood in support of democracy and tear apart the all powerful king.
But, for Nepal — transition from a democracy overthrown by the king and then again back to the people’s mandate — what lies in store?
Revolutions get crushed and enemies change.
How is it to be shifted from a king to a band of rebels whose cousins in India are hated for their bloody vendetta and visionless violence? What good holds the Maoists-led seven-party alliance for their people?
Even before the scars of the war against the king dried up, Nepal’s rebel leader, in tow with an Indian Leftist, couldn’t hide his hunger for the top seat.
The country is soon to face its people’s mandate. No one can say what the elections has in store for the community but a fear is evident — people are scared to realise that they have been duped twice.

Rendezvous with a maths peddler

One Saturday, after a half-day office (then I used to scribble for an advertising group), enjoying liberty, I planned to go hunting half-priced books on Free School Street. It is the stretch in Calcutta where the wise usually hang around collecting reagents for complex reactions of intellectuality that the trite like me can hardly comprehend.
On the usual route to the destination, I came across this piece of writing. “Put up any problem of mathematics and obtain quick solution,” read the piece of paper stuck on a board behind the man sitting bang-opposite St Xavier’s College on Park Street.
The board attracted cursory once-overs, curious glances, and even quizzical frowns. But passers-by did one thing in a body: they moved on without missing a single step.
An unknown nosiness stalled me to read the script subsequent to the headline. To my surprise, I discovered a price chart, offering rates charged for solving individual mathematical solutions for standards ranging between Class VII and post-graduation.
I was interrupted in the middle of trying to fathom the subject. “Sir, may I introduce myself to you?” — the humble appeal caught my attention. Parash Nath Sharma introduced himself as a post-graduate in mathematics from Patna University and he was ready to solve riddles of mathematics and statistics of any standard.
With an ambition to develop his career in academics, Sharma left his scope to join the ancestral livelihood through agriculture. “I wanted to be a teacher but there was no job for me in Bihar,” Sharma lamented. “Calcutta is a big city and am sure there are better chances here,” buoyancy reflected in his bucolic English.
To make his living, Sharma adopted this method, following some of his native folks’ advice. His atypical way of income fetched his some yields. “Two gentlemen have asked me to give tuition to their children,” the maths peddler said.
The episode was certainly one of the weird ones that I had ever encountered. Lost in thoughts of the meeting, I headed for a nearby refectory. Busy on a contemplative cuppa, I recollected the optimism that was vivid in his eyes.
I traversed down Park Street several times after that but I never met Sharma again. And, I could not ask him the complex equation of life to be simple yet happy.