LOVE AND ILLUSIONS:GHAMKIRI

Love and illusions: BIBEK ADHIKARI

(THE KATHMANDU POST-5 Sept.2013 Saturday)

BIBEK ADHIKARI

OCT 04 -

Standing out starkly against the kind of clichéd fare that presently dominates the Nepali fiction market is a witty and engrossing new novel titled Ghamkiri, which chronicles the love affair between the protagonist and his imaginary sweetheart. Ringed by author Nayan Raj Pandey’s own experiences in Mumbai, to where he allegedly fled while in high school, and marked thus by a semi-autobiographical tone, the story is at once absurd yet linked inextricably to reality, resulting in a read that is difficult to put down.

The story stirs awake in mythology, opening with a young Yogmaya and a dragonfly, whose tail is tied to the end of a string. This is followed by the well-known tale of King  Bhartrihari, who had turned into an ascetic after tasting a portion of magical fruit. Finally, we’re let into the core narrative. Our protagonist is a young schoolboy who is smitten with Padmini, a famous Indian actress, and decides to head off to Mumbai to meet her in person. It is a journey with uncertain ends, into new realms, and a new life. Once in the city of films, the boy is initially dazzled by what he sees around him—although that doesn’t last too long. Soon enough, his dreams

are shattered when he realises surviving here is going to be much more difficult than he imagined. It is as we watch him use his wits to scrape by in such harsh circumstances that Pandey’s skills really come through, with the story ripening appropriately from this point onwards.

The narrator does his best to get in touch with Padmini, but all his efforts are in vain. Ultimately, he decides to return home, and that is where he is hit by a series of epiphanies, his eyes finally opened and lessons gleaned. The final revelation is achieved in a tactful and memorable way.

Subplots in the novel have been woven in judiciously, giving it a multidimensional effect. We’re shown the wretchedness and vulnerability of the lives of the Indian poor, as well as the immigrants who have come to share their misery. Pandey’s careful use of surrealist elements in Ghamkiri is yet another notable

feature. It serves to underline the title’s significance: most characters, the book seems to tell us, are flying high in the skies, much like the titular creature itself, propelled by the illusion of love, and thereby creating their own worlds of possibilities.

The author also employs well the kind of region-specific speak that is necessary for a degree of authenticity in the text—dialects rooted in Nepalgunj, for instance. The language is not flowery, very minimalist, and the editing is clean—cleaner than a lot of Nepali novels out there.

For all its insights, however, one major drawback can be Pandey’s penchant for long sequences of short sentences that slow the reader down. The pace could’ve brought clarity, created suspense or emotion, but here it is exploited to tedious ends. Also, the multitude of factual data punctuating the text feels forced at times.

Pandey is becoming increasingly well-known in the sphere of contemporary Nepali literature as a producer of engaging fiction, a fact to which his previous works, including Ular and Lu, pay testimony. And this new work will no doubt serve to cement his standing in the scene.

Posted on: 2013-10-05 09:35