Blood of Yadukuha’s martyrs

Blood of Yadukuha’s martyrs C K LAL Mahottari is at the bottom of the list of districts in terms Human Development Index. Neighboring Dhanusha is a better performer, though barely so. In any case, averages hide a lot of disparities. Despite its lower status, Mahottari boasts of small towns like Bardibas, Gaushala and Matihani that may not measure up to district capital Jaleshwar, but are bazaars of distinction in their own right. However, Janakpur has overshadowed every other settlement in the district. Even Yadukuha, a sprawling settlement bang at the center of Dhanusha barely gets attention in political, social, cultural, religious or commercial discourse these days. It takes over an hour to cover a distance of barely 16 kilometers through the earthen road that connects Yadukuha to the district headquarters. Few government officials or NGO-entrepreneurs grace the place with their visit. Donors and INGOs prefer settlements along the highway or villages near the airport during their field visits. It is such a pity because Yadukuha is not just a place but also the name of an ideal that has somehow begun to lose its potency. For an entire generation of students in the 1970s, Yadukuha was a codeword for fierce resistance, ceaseless struggle and spirit of sacrifice. There were several reasons behind its popularity. The village is known as Shahid Nagar (Martyr Town) for warriors that laid down their lives for the cause of democracy, socialism and nationality. During the first parliamentary elections in the country, BP Koirala had proposed to field a Yadav from this constituency. The chosen one declined on the ground that such a selection smacked of communalism. It was a Yadav-dominated constituency and the idealist politico wanted to ensure the victory of his idol Saroj Koirala to prove that the support base of Nepali Congress went beyond exigencies of caste calculations. No NC leader showed the moral and political strength to respond in a similar manner and field a Kurmi or a Koeri from Sindhuli or Okhaldhunga. Saroj Koirala won hands down; mesmerized the Parliament with his political skills; inspired a whole generation of youngsters in the region into joining oppositional politics after the royal-military coup of 1960; and went into self-exile to keep the lamp of democratic struggle burning. He was murdered on Indian soil, allegedly on the orders of the then Anchaladhis (Zonal Commissioner) by Nepali security personnel in mufti. Whether Indian officials were complicit in the crime or not is still unknown. In the early 1970s, security personnel killed two school students—known jointly as Kameshwar-Kusheshwar now—for their political beliefs. After Durganand Jha, these two teens became martyrs to the cause of democracy in the long-drawn fight against Panchayat for freedom. Few remember their names anymore, but they sacrificed their lives for the freedom of every Nepali. Public memory is phenomenally short, but forgetting the martyrdom of Kameshwar-Kusheswar borders on national ungratefulness. During the People’s Movement of 1990, three rural women and two men from Yadukuha once again embraced death and succeeded in firing the imagination of every freedom-loving Nepali in the country and abroad. The People’s Movement had begun to lose momentum—the blood of martyrs from Yadukuha rekindled embers of liberty that finally spread like wildfire and consumed the autocratic Panchayat system. Perhaps there is some truth in the Christian dictum that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. The cathedral that was built in 1990 was called a multiparty democracy. At the height of the Maoist insurgency, 11 policemen lost their lives in the vicinity of Yadukuha. Their sacrifice too did not go in vain. It created tremendous pressure upon political parties, the Maoists, the international community and the civil society to look for a peaceful settlement to the decade-long armed conflict. These security personnel were killed on line of duty and are worthy of respect for exemplary devotion to their profession. There must be something in the earth, water, and air of Yadukuha that makes it produce persons of extraordinary courage, conviction and commitment to democracy and social justice. The state and society, however, has been less than generous in acknowledging the contributions of this village to the national life. The reason may lie in the socio-cultural degeneration brought about by the “I, me, my” ideology. Rather than martyrdom, “martyr syndrome” and “martyr complex” are prevailing ideas of our times. A martyr is a person who is put to death, or endures great suffering on behalf of any belief, principle, or cause. A martyr to the cause of democracy, human rights, or social justice is a later addition. The idea of martyrdom is not natural to Hinduism where an act of sacrifice implies balidan—donation of someone else’s life, be that of a goat, a rooster, a buffalo, a pig, a duck, or any such living being. Human sacrifice (narbali) has passed into history. Breaking of coconut is perhaps a symbolic ritual that memorializes the archaic practice. In South Asia, valiant Sikhs borrowed the idea of martyrdom from Islam and took it to great heights. The trend got further fillip during anti-British struggles. The idea of struggle and sacrifice for liberty, equality and fraternity came to Nepal via India. Terminology may be different, but martyr syndrome is a manipulative tactic that must have been around for ages. Some people use their self-sacrifice, real or imagined, to manipulate people around them. They expect a reward, often far in excess of their suffering, as they want to milk the misery of their past for present and future personal benefits. Politicos who keep harping about their time in jail, exile or underground and expect to be nominated to some office of profit are dime a dozen in Kathmandu. The UML is particularly rich in cadres with martyr syndrome. Martyr complex, sometimes associated with the term victim complex, is a strange sort of psychological state that makes a person choose a life of suffering, prosecution and possible death. Their goals may or may not be clear, but such people willingly endure hardships of all kinds. The Maoist leadership has skillfully identified, trained and manipulated the burning desire of being a martyr for his/her own among a section of disillusioned youngsters. The martyrs of the past have enriched us all—they died to ensure a better life for generations to come. Struggles of the future, however, would have to be peaceful for more impact. The hadith (narrative) said to have originated from the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) that “the ink of a scholar is more holy than the blood of a martyr” will then become even more relevant. The ideas that martyrs held dear would nevertheless continue to inspire people for generations to come. source::http://theweek.myrepublica.com/details.php?news_id=25584

Chhatha: Greatest Festival Of Madhesh

Chhatha: Greatest Festival Of Madhesh

- By Ram Dayal Rakesh
Chhatha is a colourful festival of Madhesh celebrated with pomp and show in the autumn season. This folk festival has taken the shape of a national festival, celebrated as it is from Mechi to Mahakali of Nepal. Whether it is in neighbouring Bihar and Uttar Pradesh of India or Nepal, all roads lead to the Ganges River on this auspicious occasion.

Chhatha is celebrated in Janakpur, the holy city, and the business city of Birgunj. This festival is celebrated on the banks of the pious ponds of Dhanush sagar and Ganga sagar. Likewise, it is celebrated in a grand manner on the banks of the Ghariharwa pond of Birgunj, where an idol of the sun god has been constructed permanently for this purpose. There is either a pond or river in almost all the villages, where the devotees congregate to celebrate Chhatha.

This festival is directly related to water as it gives life. Devotees stand knee-deep in water to offer water and other offerings to the sun god. The Aryans during the Vedic period revered the rivers, as is understood from the famous Nandistuti (river hymns) of the Rig Veda. The sun is a visible god, and is also called Grahraj (King of the planets). This festival, solemnised in honour of the sun god, is also known as Suryashasthi because it is chiefly celebrated on the sixth day of the bright half of Kartik, corresponding to late October and mid-November. This year, devotees celebrated Chhatha on November 16 (Kartik 30).

Mythology
Chhatha was first celebrated by Anusuya, wife of the famous sage Atri, according to the Surya Puran, for happiness, good health and a safe and sound conjugal life. After that, during the Dwapar period, it was celebrated by Draupadi, wife of the Pandavs, as per the Mahabharat. There is mention of this festival in the Rig Veda, the most ancient scriptures of South Asia, also.

According to the Agni Purana, devotees who perform this festival in the month of Kartik (October-November) and pay homage to the sun god receive a big boon. In the Rig Veda, Surya has been described as one of the three greatest gods. Life is impossible without the sun. Thus, Hindu scriptures present the sun as the most potent, potential and powerful god. The worship of the sun god means the worship of all the Puranic gods and goddesses. The sun’s rays have the amazing power to heal several diseases. Scriptures mention that Samba, son of Lord Krishna, got cured of leprosy after worshipping the sun god.

This festival is observed for four full days. Day 1 is observed by taking a bath in a river or pool to purify the body and mind. This way, all sins committed in the past are also washed away. This ritual is called Naha Khau in the local language, which means eat only after taking a bath. Bathing is the first prerequisite for this festival because Maithili culture is chiefly riverine. Some of the rivers are considered masculine, forceful and turbulent and are known to be troublemakers.

People of this region especially worship the Koshi River as they also do the Kamala, which is considered very sacred. They sing and dance while worshipping this river, which is considered a water goddess. Most of the rivers of the Mithila region are feminine, and on their banks, the Chhatha, the folk festival of fraternity and friendship, is solemnised annually with great fanfare.
This festival is one of fasting and also of feasting. Collective participation is clearly seen during this cultural festival.

Day 2 is celebrated by fasting the whole day. Devotees of Chhatha break their fast late in the evening. Before breaking the fast, they worship their kuldevta (clan-deity). This way they prepare mentally and physically for this religious festival. This is called kharna in the local language.

They prepare rice puddings laced with molasses. They are not supposed to take salt, garlic or onion. The diet is purely vegetarian. Cleanliness and purity are strictly maintained.

Day 3 is marked by taking a bath early in the morning and worshipping their local deity. They spend the whole day preparing offerings at home. They themselves make cakes out of pure ghee and wheat flour which is called thekuwa. Another preparation is the kasar (ladoos made of ghee, sugar and rice flour). These two types of sweets are considered the purest of offerings for the sun god. Besides, seasonal fruits like sugarcane, banana, orange, guava, green coconut along with blossoming seasonal fresh flowers fill baskets, which are carried on the heads by the male to the riverside or nearby pond. However, women are the major actors in the festival.

Male members carry the baskets to the ponds or pools or nearby rivers because the women have been observing a fast for a long period. Local drummers, and nowadays musical bands, also accompany them. Devotees sing Chhatha folk songs, which are mainly and mostly religious in nature.

They gather on the banks of rivers to pay homage to the setting sun. They take in rays of the red sun, which is beneficial for health. Thus, new energy, strength, spirit and courage are gained. As night falls, the devotees along with their family members, friends and relatives return home. At home, another colourful celebration takes place. They worship the fire-god and eat nothing the whole night.

On day 4, or the final day of the festival, the devotees early in the morning with their friends and family members go to the river bank to make offerings. They offer morning prayers to the rising sun.
People generally adore the rising sun, but the Madheshi people adore the setting sun as well. The fast is broken, and offerings are distributed to the people around.

Legend
There is a local legend associated with the Chhatha. In ancient time, there was a king, Priyabrat. He was very worried because all his babies were born still. Finally, he decided to end his life out of frustration. But a goddess, Chattha Mai, appeared before him, who promised a live son to the king. So women also worship Chhathi Mai during this festival so that they can beget a child.

As in other traditions, the Maithil people greatly revere the sun god. This has become the living tradition of the Maithil people, in general, and Madheshi people, in particular. The festival is still observed in great faith, which should bring good fortune to the worshippers.

source::http://www.gorkhapatra.org.np/content.php?nid=30392

Infrastructure Of Violence

Infrastructure Of Violence

Measured with the ‘graveyard of dynasties’ yardstick, Simraungarh is settlement of historic import. Legends have it that Nanyadev, an itinerant warrior of Chalukya Dynasty, founded the Karnat House of Mithila with Simraungarh as its capital in the 11th century. Later, Muslim army from Bengal repeatedly ransacked the region between 1211-1226 but failed to annex it.

Shumshuddin Iliyas, formerly a vassal of Ghiyasuddin Tughlaq, declared himself independent of his overlord and sometime in 1345-46 finally conquered the entire Tirhut region, including the Karnat kingdom. Meanwhile, Harisimhadeva had already disappeared with his deities, queens, courtiers and concubines up into the mountains in the north in 1323 or so. Some of his descendents are believed to have ruled Kathmandu valley as Malla kings for four centuries when they finally fell one by one to the Gorkhali forces in late-18th century.

All that remains of nearly 400 years of imperial glory around present-day Simraungarh are a few earthen mounds, charcoal grains of rice said to have been burnt by invaders and huge ponds with the royal associations. Nearby Ranibas Bazaar does have a historic temple, but it was built by one of the consorts of Rana usurper Jangbahadur. Floodwaters of Bagmati and Lalbakaiya rivers have consumed even the ruins of the Karnat capital.

Some imperial legacies, however, are harder to shake off. The Gadhimai temple of Mother Goddess in nearby Bariyapur is reputedly the biggest sacrificial site in the world. Every five years, thousands of water buffaloes, pigs, goats, cows, chickens and pigeons are ritually killed to appease the celestial mother. Lawlessness is the defining feature of the blood-soaked earth of Bara district—woe betides the person who has the temerity of challenging any law-breaker in these parts. Withering away of the state is almost complete, but the resulting realm is that of bandit capitalism rather than a communist utopia.

FIERCE SETTING

The road from Kalaiya (the headquarters of the district administration) to Simraungarh passes through rice fields, mango orchards, fishponds and ramshackle hutments. Here and there, newly built concrete houses stand out as living monuments to remittance economy. However, there are few livestock to be seen on the way. That perhaps explains why teashops in Pathalaiya and Simra run out of milk by early afternoon—the supply is too low to fulfil even local demand. Wonder where Jitpur traders get all those goats and buffaloes to feed the ever-increasing requirement Kathmandu eateries for animal flesh? They probably buy their supplies from across the border in the vicinity of Ghorasahan Bazaar.

Relative absence of street dogs in these parts is even more striking. Locals believe that sanctified oxen, wild foxes and stray dogs were all hunted down by ration suppliers of Seema Sashatra Bal (SSB), the security force that stand guard on the Indian side of the 10-yard strip. Taste of some of their soldiers, particularly from the northeast, is believed to border on what is abhorrent to local Hindus and Muslims alike.

Canals crisscross the landscape, but beds of channels are either muddy or dry. The flow in them is dependent upon the decision of Indian authorities that control its main feeder according to the provisions of the Gandak Treaty. Alternative arrangements could have been made to keep these canals functional, but the priority of the government seems to be upon connectivity. Irrigation channels are in a state of disrepair, but their embankments that serve as rural roads are kept in passable condition. So what if the agriculture languishes? The trade must flourish.

A major chunk of commercial transactions, however, falls into the grey area. Illegal logging and timber trade is rampant. Cultivation of hemp and poppy is sometimes reported. Unauthorized import of raw materials for the Pathalaiya-Parwanipur commercial belt through earthen tracks connecting Indian border is a rule rather than the exception. All such activities have created organized gangs of adventurous entrepreneurs who operate with the connivance, if not outright cooperation, of law enforcement agencies.

A combination of religious fundamentalism, coercive apparatus of the state, easy means of cheap intoxication and instant gratification, and the ever-present encounter with disease and death without much hope for survival can transform even the most docile of population into militants.

In Simraungarh bazaar, shops are full of goods that most people do not need or cannot afford but essentials and agricultural inputs are perennially in short supply. The list of prominent landmarks of the settlement includes a multi-tiered pagoda style temple, a freshly whitewashed police post, a few arrack shops, cinema halls that screen Hindi movies, and the clinic of a quack that promises to treat almost all ailments. A combination of religious fundamentalism, coercive apparatus of the state, easy means of cheap intoxication and instant gratification, and the ever-present encounter with disease and death without much hope for survival can transform even the most docile of population into militants.

The prevailing ideology of individualism that emphasizes the creation of self-absorbed, self-indulgent and defiantly selfish consumers has resulted in disintegration of ties that bound people with each other. Decline of social norms is partly responsible for the lawlessness. However, the main culprit behind the statelessness is perhaps the increasing illegitimacy of the government. In that respect, Bara is like most other districts of Madhes and Pahad in Nepal.

EROSION OF AUTHORITY

Reflecting upon relationship between power and violence, political theorist Hannah Arendt once offered a powerful refutation to the dictum of Mao Tse-tung that power flowed out of the barrel of the gun. “Violence can always destroy power; out of the barrel of the gun grows the most effective command, resulting in most instant and perfect obedience,” conceded the theorist before proposing the clincher, “What can never grow out of it is power.” This is a lesson of history that the leader of the ruling coalition as well as the main opposition party seem to have missed in its entirety, groomed as most of them have been under the ideological shadow of the Great Helmsman.

A brief overview of Nepal’s own experiences is enough to show that the political influence of the Maoists grew exponentially during the period when CPN-UML and Nepali Congress took turns to shoulder the burden of governments led by stalwarts of Panchayat regime. Reversal in public opinion de-legitimized democratic order, empowered Maoists, and armed insurgency found widespread acceptability. But just as Arendt had argued, revolution was possible but not necessary when the power of the state under the direct control of an anachronistic monarchy had completely disintegrated. Nothing has yet emerged to fill the vacuum as the government attempts to rule purely on the strength of its coercive apparatus. Power is not a substitute of legitimate authority.

From the vantage point of an almost autonomous village deep in the countryside, antics of ministers in the anti-Maoist cabinet in distant Kathmandu look like bravado of puppet heroes fighting phantoms upon cardboard stages erected for them by those who control their reigns from somewhere else. Meanwhile, Maoists continue to gain economic and political strength.

It is not just the rural folks, even mill-owners of Simra and Kalaiya privately admit that allowing armed groups to grow to counter Maoists was a strategic mistake. With Maoists, the payer knows what to expect from the payee. That is hardly the case with either corrupt security officers or ideologically free armed-operators. No wonder, Maoists’ fund-raising capacity has increased without any extra effort on their part. Such an attitude, however, attracts more adventurers into politics of violence and makes existing challengers of Maoist hegemony even more brutal toward their victims. The gain for everyone is temporary while the social loss is enormous.

Nothing less than a prompt political settlement at the centre can stop the slide of the periphery into spiral of violence leading to complete anarchy, which would then engulf even those who began it all—the Maoists.

cklal@hotmail.com

source::http://myrepublica.com/portal/index.php?action=news_details&news_id=24795