A multi-dimensional personality

By Razen Manandhar

Rarely does God give both a brush and a pen to one person. But here, he also gave zeal and mission to one man. He is none other than Lain Singh Bangdel who passed away last week on the very auspicious day of Vijaya Dashami.

He was born in Darjeeling, India in 1924 in a lower-middle class family. After spending his school days at Government High School of Darjeeling, a District Board Scholarship took him to Government College of Arts and Crafts and from where he was graduated in 1945. But instead of returning home, he stayed in Kolkota and tried his luck there. He worked for several advertising agencies, was even sacked for being "incompetent". More than art teachers, he was trained by struggles and failures that also encouraged him to set a goal of his own.

His firm ambition to become an artist inspired him to set off on a one-month-long voyage to London without a single companion and then he moved to France, his ultimate destination in 1952. Since he had no funding, a mountain of difficulties stood on his way. He lived in the outskirts, in chilly rooms and he had to walk around the city to sell his early paintings in the streets. For almost two decades, he lived truly as a struggling "artist" in Paris and London, where he learned much more than the techniques of making strokes on empty canvasses.

The dice was cast in 1961, when artist Bangdel had an opportunity to be introduced to His Late Majesty King Mahendra. The Panchayat system was quite new, and King Mahendra was in search of personalities, who could show Modern Nepal to the world from different angles. The four-year old Royal Nepal Academy needed an artist to showcase Nepal’s art. Though Nepal had been a treasure of art and architecture for millennia, and contemporary art had entered Nepal much earlier than Bangdel was born, he was granted membership of the Academy for being an artist by the King. Luck had it that his working place became Nepal, the country his ancestors had left generations ago.

In the Panchayat period, being a king-nominated member of the Academy was advantageous. His well-maintained relation with the royal family as well as his expertise made him Vice Chancellor in 1974 and again the first non-royal chancellor in 1979, and worked as the head of the Academy till 1989. He was fortunate to remain in the state-backed organisation of the scholars during almost whole of the Panchayat period. He capitalised his power and expertise to enhance his career. This period was also the most productive days of his life - a series of painting exhibitions and book publications, followed by dozens of awards. Most of his books were published from the Academy, whereas some were came out from abroad.

Jadadish Samsher Rana and Genendra Bahadur Amatya had come up with abstract works here when Bangdel exhibited his semi-abstract paintings at Saraswati Sadan, but his were more polished and had a European outlook. Making a position in Nepal’s art arena, where most of the artists were submissive, shy and unexposed to the western world, was not difficult for him. And he became a spokesperson of the art activities of Nepal for at least three decades.

Bringing Nepal Association of Fine Arts under the Academy’s umbrella (it is still a controversial issue amongst some artists) and establishment of Nepal Art Council were Bangdel’s another contributions. The Council was opened as a gallery to exhibit the replicas of Western art, but it was later turned into a kind of art institution, with a building of its own and regular government funding.

Bangdel’s ability to understand the need of the time distinguished him from other artists. So the follower of monarchy did not mind making portraits of BP Koirala and Ganeshman Singh after the 1990’s Popular Movement. Beside his God gifted talent, he had power, blessing from the royals and talent of expression to retain the position he had in the city of art. Nevertheless, the "deified" artist was reluctant to teach art in public. Instead of teaching, he formed a group of half a dozen confident young artists who followed his ism of painting. A group of artists, better known as New Artists’ Circle, are following his path. Most of them were awarded in an art competition organised by the Nepal Art Council some three years ago.

Bangdel was born to be an artist but his contribution to Nepali literature is not less remarkable. He also made his room there as a humanitarian novelist, a freak travelogue writer and an incisive biographer. He had published ‘Bishwa Katha Sangraha’ before he left for London. His stay in London, France and Spain helped him in his literary pursuit. Students of literature today remember him for his books, mainly ‘Spain ko Samjhana’, ‘Muluk Bahira’, ‘Maitighar’, ‘Langadako Sathi’, ‘Bishwa Ka Chha Mahan Kalakar’ and ‘Rembrandt’.

Similarly, Bangdel had a deep knowledge of Nepal’s stone sculpture. He might never have imagined that the small Kathmandu Valley is rich in ancient sculptures, some dating as early as the first century BC. He, with his experience and tireless research, sought similarity between the early sculptures of the valley and the Kushan-period sculpture of Northern India. His diligent study and interpretation paved a new way for studying Nepal’s cultural heritage. His research produced Prachin Nepali Murtikalako Itihas (1982), Ancient Sculptures of Nepal (1982, India) Stolen Images of Nepal (1989) and Inventory of Stone Sulptures of the Kathmandu Valley (1995) are some of his books. Among others, his "Stolen Images of Nepal" is still a matchless gem for Nepali authors as it contains pictures of hundreds of idols that have been stolen, as well as detached pedestals. In the course of research, he had taken thousands of pictures of stone sculptures from courtyards and shrines of the valley. The treasure of photographs, yet to come out, is sure to make a history in the future.

Despite all this, he was noted for his isolation from the Nepali artists’ circle. He was accused of misusing his power, being undemocratic to juniors and favouring only his beloved ones. Some even raise questions over the pictures of the stolen idols. Nonetheless, his contributions to Nepali art, heritage and literature will be remembered forever, and it will take time to fill the vacuum left by Bangdel’s demise.

Message of peace

By VIDWATA BAHETY

Where the colourful kites fly

Amid the clouds as soft as fleece

Send us the message of Peace.

Looking out at the blue sky has always been a fascination. More in Dashain time when the kites adorn the fleecy sky bejewelling it for the festival. It looks like a child in his play has generously sprinkled some red, some blue and some green over an azure canvas!

But this time around Kathmandu sky wore a widowed look. The lazy autumn sky was scarcely dotted with the colourful kites. Was that suddenly whoever painted the sky with specks of bright colours was running out of his supply!

Kites remain as attractive as they were only they have been reduced to mere decorative items hung up on the walls of cafes and shops. There hardly is any pull towards kite flying these days. What used to be a popular pastime at one time seems to be on the verge of extinction. Of the terraces, which once upon a time would be teeming with enthusiasts equipped with ‘changa and dhago’ (kite and the thread) and echoing with "chet" (the joyous outcry at cutting someone else’s kite) are abandoned today. The children running across the street to earn that kite which was sailing down are now rarity. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that an age-old charisma has been lost.

Perhaps the kite has become wiser over the days. As it flew wide and far it began to understand poverty and war. But now possibly the fetters of violence, carnages and bloodshed heave it down. Or perhaps like the nation the kite too is in mourning. Mourning the deaths of innocent children whose father was killed in a meaningless war and whose mother died of hunger. When there doesn’t remain one single patch of carefree sky, where can the wingless majesty fly? And so it does not fly!

My little brother comes to me asking for a kite. The shop which used to be a kite flier’s paradise disappoints a prospective customer. Unwilling to take a walk to the far corner of the street where kites are "still" sold I sit down to make a kite. Not a kite maker but I am determined to give it a shot. It is going to be blue, just like the sky and true to its colour it will be a messenger of Peace!

I add a beautiful white tail, so much like the fleecy clouds. The straws stuck well on place it looks like a real kite. With added childlike excitement I write a poem on it. The words put against the blue background seem to come alive.

Satisfied with my work I reach out to my kite to take another closer look at it. And suddenly the kite in my hand flutters, and gracefully it sails out to kiss the beautiful clouds. Ah! It is flying once again. So, there is hope. As the kite for peace has taken off!

Comeback for Carter

By FERN SHEN

When he was president in the late 1970s, Jimmy Carter endured a lot of criticism. The former peanut farmer with the big-toothed grin seemed ineffective. He couldn’t get Congress to approve his plans. He seemed to stand by, helpless, while Americans were held hostage in Iran, the economy sank and gasoline prices soared. Ronald Reagan beat him soundly in the 1980 election, turning Carter out of office after one term.

Last week, though, the 78-year-old Carter received a tremendous honor, winning the Nobel Peace Prize, not only for what he did as president, but for what he did afterward.

Many former presidents take it easy after leaving Washington—they fish, they golf, they give speeches for money.

Not Carter. He became an activist, working for peace and human rights in Asia, Africa, Latin America and Europe. No other ex-president has been so active and involved in world affairs. Carter zips around like a global fireman, going to the spots of conflict, tropical diseases or elections that might be conducted unfairly.

Another reason Carter received the award is for something major he did accomplish during his presidency: the Camp David peace agreement. He set up a historic 1978 meeting between Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian President Anwar Sadat that helped foster peace between the two warring countries.

Carter said he was "thrilled" to win the $1 million award, but he told reporters it probably wouldn’t change his life too much. Folks will still be able to see him teaching Sunday school or pedaling his burgundy-colored bicycle down Main Street in Plains, Ga., the tiny town where he grew up and still lives.

Born James Earl Carter Jr, the youngster known as Jimmy did chores on the family farm, got good grades in school and attended Georgia Tech. He went to the US Naval Academy, served in the Navy and then took over the family peanut farm.

He was a state legislator, governor of Georgia, and in 1976 he was elected the 39th president of the United States.

Begin and Sadat shared the Nobel Peace Prize in 1978, but Carter’s role was not recognized by the prize committee until now.

After leaving office, Carter began his other work, through a nonprofit group he started in Atlanta. Since 1989, the Carter Center has helped "monitor" 36 elections in 22 countries. (That means making sure they are conducted fairly.) Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, also have been very visible members of the Habitat for Humanity group, which builds homes for needy people.

This week, despite the big honor, Carter was back at work. He is helping to oversee an election in Jamaica.

(By special arrangement with LA Times and Washington Post)

Unweaving the rainbow

By ARUN GUPTO

Bringing democracy to the coun-try was like weaving the rainbow. What the politicians did is that they took just twelve years to destroy the rainbow. When you look back into the past and when you hear what the politicians of the right and left had done during their exiles in India, you would think that the metaphor of the rainbow is appropriate. Democracy was the effort of all the weather-beaten parties, the efforts of the people, and the readiness of the once powerful royal institution. The following story will exemplify why my metaphor of the rainbow is just.

Many years ago during the reign of King Mahendra, we all know, Benaras was one of the centers of the exiled Nepalis. A friend of mine was a schoolboy then. He told how difficult the life was for the politicians there. When the money and other helps from Calcutta would be available, the life would be comfortable and the memory of the country would be energized. By the end of the month, while some of them would be looking for help, they would either fast or starve. You may have seen sparrows in the Indian summers. They hop inside homes, in-groups, to collect grains and crumbs. Hungry human minds have intelligent strategies. The boy would be sent in the kitchen. He would be instructed to open the window and hide below it with a log hidden in his hands. He would wait there and the other men would be ready with brooms, outside the kitchen door. Two would fly in through the window, one more, three would hop in, four more and then the log would push the window close. Then there would be ten minutes of panting and puffing and then all the birds flat on the floor. Others would come in quickly. They would count some fourteen birds ready to be roasted that summer afternoon. My friend said there would not be any wasting of time to treat them after they are dead, fearing others might come in and share the little food.

They were the men of democracy, not killing the birds but weaving the rainbow: suffering, surviving and dreaming about political freedom. This is just one face of the hardships. With those men living away from the country, there were obviously many problems. Whoever knows such men and their hardships does not understand how the same political clan can forget all those political goals in the midst of adversities? When one thinks how these politicians could so wretchedly fail, three answers come to the mind, which may be arguable, but not fallacious.

The first assumption is that those who fight for the changes and those who take responsibility to maintain and work with those changes are different minds. To be spirited in activism, to go in the exile, to march in the streets, to go to jail, to sing songs require to hand over the baton to the fresh runners when it now comes to building the nation. This is not questioning the intelligence and potential of the people, but assuming that the mind that fights and the mind that takes over the works after the struggles are two different things.

The other assumption is that the cause of the fatal weaknesses of these twelve years of democracy was the working of the mediocre political minds. They are leaders but mostly uneducated and dishonest to any values that a society carries. Tremendous amount of selfishness, greed, shamelessness, opportunism became synonyms with politics. Good people shunned away from the leaders and those good who joined in had changed themselves.

Education as much formalizes the mind as it tries to make us ethical. A student told me the other day that there are thousands of institutions, schools, collages, offices, departments, business firms in this country. They all need educated people, masters, bachelors, technicians, and researchers. But then to run a country we do not require educated men and women. Any one can come and join politics and take the responsibility to handle the vast and varied problems of the country. A mediocre and even below average mind can be a parliamentarian and minister. This is a strange Nepali irony of politics.

We seem to have accepted the trend that politics does not need educated minds. This is the self-evident trend of modern Nepal. Mediocrity is an accepted qualification and we all have evidences to check how democracy under such minds has shamed us.

Yet another assumption behind these failures is media’s role with the words and actions of these politicians working for twelve years. All our newspapers front pages have taken the politicians as fetishes. Over emphasis on these mediocre men and women by the media made politics as gossips.
Media became tabloid mostly and the leaders became political entertainers. Gaijatra messages were all the year round. The politicians had nothing but to see themselves in the gossip columns of the front pages. The narration of corruption, deception, greed replaced any news related with arts and sciences.

Thus the failure to carry on the memory of sacrifices made during the exile, political mediocrity, and the tabloid view of the politics are the principles of monstrosity. Monstrosity destroys the rainbow. Monstrosity is not an excessive term because this twelve-year politics has become the darkest phase of modern Nepal. I have to redefine the killing of the birds in Benaras. The hands those killed the sparrows are after all fit to unweave the rainbow.