Disclaimer: This is a fictitious post, resemblance to anybody living or dead is purely coincidental. , the characters in this post belong to a certain caste and location only to validate my point – the predicament of an ambivalent Nepali. I beseech the readers not to make assumptions regarding that particular caste and location. Taking Sides Feb 2011, a cold evening in Baluwatar “These stupid politicians must be murdered”, he snarled “I will shoot them with my father’s gun someday and then leave town.” “And go where?” I asked, almost surprising myself with my feigned curiosity. “Rajasthan” he replied after a moment of thought, ”we have some relatives there.” “Thought you hated India” “Yes, I still hate those Biharis, but the kings of Rajasthan are classy Indians, they roll in Mercedes and BMW” “So you hate poor people” I smiled. “Not poor people, but uncivilized leeches” he cursed under his breath “You see these politicians from all over the nation? They are such leeches; twenty years ago they couldn’t make their ends meet and now they have a huge house in Kathmandu” “And how do you think they did that?” I was still smiling. “Bribery, extortion, killing people” He seemed agitated. “And why are you asking as if you do not know anything about these f&#king maoists?” “Prithivi Narayan Shah did the same didn’t he?” I kept my smile “He invaded smaller states, killed people, forcibly acquired wealth from the kings who were defeated.” “And Jung Bahadur Rana, your ancestor, couldn’t find a better option than a Court Massacre, speaking of the same, king Mahendra’s coup led to forceful acquisition of personal properties from common citizens and farmers all across the nation who vouched for Nepali Congress” I added. He seemed shocked at my reply, and for a second it seemed like he was searching for words. He gulped the remains of that Tanqueray and hammered the glass on the table, making a very audible ‘thump’ and almost breaking it into pieces. I was not perturbed, I had known him for last two decades and more, we were close friends who often argued in trivial matters and such heated exchanges were common. He had spoken of killing Biharis, Madhesis, current politicians, Sujata Koirala, a son of a newar businessman in the past and even threatened to break my jaw once. So his ire that night was nothing I had never seen before. “They tried to Unite the nation” he raised his voice clenching his jaws. “ I agree” I lit up a cigarette and took a drag “but you see, it seems that the only reason they ‘united’ the nation was to keep everyone else in servitude so people like YOU, a close ally to the royal palace, could enjoy his Johnny Walker and tandoori chicken while three fourth of the nation lives in acute penury” “You are incorrect, we are soilders, and we gave our blood to this nation” “Last time I checked, the only time when someone gave blood for this nation were the soldiers who fought with Balbhadra Kunwar, and I do not see any documented evidence if each one of them who lost their lives were children of Ranas and Shahs. “ I could feel I was getting a little passionate over this debate. “If you have a better example to show me where you lost your blood, enlighten me please” I continued “And if you speak of your family being in Royal Nepalese army who are fighting Maoists currently, I would like to listen how many affluent Thakuris and Ranas have lost their lives so far.” “But you’d have to agree” his tone was suddenly persuasive now. “The country was a lot peaceful before” “I do, and I completely agree that everyone wants a piece of cake now, but this is exactly what happens when you flaunt your riches all these years taunting the poors. I do not like the current situation, I wish it were peaceful, but if you tell me that Shah regime was peaceful ONLY when you guys mercilessly spent your wealth and kept everyone else in check, I beg to disagree. If you guys were a capitalist like Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, the maoists’ pillage wouldn’t have made any sense. But you and your ancestors were rich only when back in the history, you did the same thing Maoists are doing now.” He stared at me for a long time. Anupam Rana must have been one of the worst people I have ever known, but he always listened to me at some point. “More Gin?” He asked. I smiled and nodded. Oct 2011, Dashain Party, Elmhurst, Queens “Do you have a green card?” His question caught me off guard. I paused chewing on my spicy mutton kabab and pondered why he would ask that question all of a sudden. A moment ago, he was explaining why “खसी को मासु मा नुन बढी भो”. “I did, but I just became a citizen a month ago” I replied without any interest. There was already a big fanfare in my house in Nepal where my dad hosted a party at our house the day I became a US citizen. It had displeased me, because everyone became a citizen of US everyday and it was not a big deal at all. But I had known my father, he loved to rub it in his friends’ face, especially Mukund Uncle’s, who competed with my dad all his life. His son had graduated a year ago and was still struggling to find a job. “Wow, so you are a citizen!” He exclaimed, turned around to whisper to a friend of his who was eating with us silently -“Dai is a citizen.” “I am still on a student visa, I go to a college in New Haven, but I live in Queens” he did not seem too proud of his current situation. “I’ll have to wait few more years to get my green card, I need to find a job first after I graduate.” He added. I was suddenly sad upon hearing this. I had to fight my own demons of despair and hopelessness when I floated my resume all across the nation in a hope of finding an employer that would sponsor my H1B visa. And when I found a job, I had sleepless night if they would ever apply for my green card. And it didn’t stop there, after the lawyer had filed for my green card, I spent 7 months in agony, desperately waiting for its approval. This guy had no clue what he would soon get into. “So you go to Nepal frequently, yes?” He asked. “Not really, I had been to Nepal earlier this year, and that was almost after 15 years” “15 years?” His eyes widened. “Was it because you couldn’t travel on a student visa?” “No, I had been out on my work visa for some time, but I was busy at work and quite honestly, I do not miss Nepal. In fact last time I visited, I had this small amount of fear that I’d lose my life, thanks to Maoists.” I started working on that mutton kabab again. “Maoists aren’t the only people who should be blamed for this anarchy in Nepal” he responded curtly. “It is all those politicians who have made the nation a living hell, Maoists only intervened when a common poor citizen couldn’t fight against the screwed up administration” “So does every poor citizen need to be a communist then?” I asked. “Umm….I do not know, but then Maoists promulgate equal right to all, and we want our right as a common citizens” “But why tag themselves as Maoists? Being a Maoist, makes them a communist, and does an average person even know who Mao was?” “I do.” “So no surprise that you are a Maoist, yes?” I kept interrogating. “I am not an arm bearing Maoist, but I support them, I am a Maoist at heart and I adore Dr. Bhattarai. I was heavily involved in politics in Rampur Agricultural College.” I felt a tinge of pride hidden somewhere between his words. “Thought colleges were for education and not politics.” I kept getting back at him, something I was now enjoying myself. “Leaders come out of college politics; look at the history of world politics, a leader was made in his student life”. He seemed to be a little upset. “But you are a student here, and that comes first before you start any of your political shenanigans, I hope you are well aware of that”. He was silent for a moment. “People always blame Maoists without knowing how much they have suffered” he spoke to himself. “No one knew their pain” “I think there was no pain at all” I responded when I heard him “it only stemmed out because of the inherent animosity between those who live in villages and those who live in cities. I do not have a documented fact, but once, near your college, in Chitwan, a friend of mine ran over a stray goat only to find himself among villagers who threatened to kill him and they extorted several thousand rupees from him.” “But see I am not troubled by that at all, they all are common citizens, innocent, harmless people, but then leaders like Prachanda and Baburam fuel their animosity and make them resent everyone with money to an extent it makes them bear arms and kill others, they have been brainwashed.” “That is incorrect, Prachanda and Baburam are patriots.” He responded, visibly troubled. “And you?” I inquired. “I am a patriot too, I love my nation, I want equal rights to all” “So why don’t you go back? It seems nation could make use of people like you”. “Huh!” “See, you tell me you support Maoists, and that you were involved in college politics, so that makes you a hardcore communist. Therefore, my question is, what are you doing in capitalist America? America resents communists and vice versa, and you are planning to acquire a green card and stay here forever.” He was silent again. “I think you are a nice guy, but please do not call yourself a communist or a Maoist because you are simply not. You are just a common guy who wants to make his living like everyone else. But then there are hypocrites who call themselves Maoists or communists, the ones who are leaders, professors, lawyers and Engineers, and send their children to capitalist America where they could study and eventually stay forever. I personally know Bharat Mohan Adhikari’s daughter lives here while that thug beguiles people like you back home.” He shook his head, coughed twice and rose from his chair. “Let’s get in line dai”, he said mildly “खसी को मासु सिद्धिएला”