Staking claims

It was gratifying to read Kanak Mani Dixit’s article Nepal, India and South Asia in the June 21 edition of this paper. I use the word gratifying intentionally to express the sense of urgency that the article presented, especially in light of Trailokya Raj Aryal’s article Colonised academically published on June 18. Dixit makes a number of arguments—the importance of ‘sovereign societies’ to not allow the involvement of foreign powers in internal matters, the need for India to reconsider its involvement in Nepal, the importance of respecting the nation-state in the context of the prospect of South Asian regionalism—all of which are valid but not unheard of arguments. Yet, from Dixit and Baral’s pieces emerge a more specified plea directed not at the plethora of noisemakers in Nepal’s polity but to the hitherto meretricious Kathmandu civil society. The plea is not one of reconsideration; it is rather direct: Wake up! Don’t be blown away by foreign intelligentsia—especially when it comes to your nation and your society. Don’t let assertions about Nepali society go unquestioned. It is a call to the penholders on our side to question the penholders on other side.

It is perhaps testament to the impotence of the political class that the discourse of resistance has shifted from them to civil society. The audience of the conversation is now a member of a sovereign society, not leaders of the sovereign state. And it is better this way. The political class is bound by compulsions when it comes to international pressure but the intelligentsia has no such obvious compulsions nor the flexibility to fashion it as valid excuse. The space for discussion, argument and counter-argument is not yet dead in Nepal.

I was sitting in the audience at the Indian Council of World Affairs in New Delhi when Prachanda declared his newfound love for India, the change in Maoist attitude and Nepal’s continued need for Indian magnanimity during a recent visit. The kowtowing was embarrassing from a former prime minister of a sovereign state.

Yet, let this much needed exercise in critical evaluation of the self not be an imprimatur for tedious anti-Indian or xenophobic sentiment. The exercise is meant to dig up our own narratives, our own histories, our own truths; an attempt to reclaim the power of knowledge creation.

The battle of discourse

Since the birth of ‘new Nepal,’ much of the struggle has been over the idea of Nepal: how do we define our Nepali-ness? How do we govern ourselves; what is the role of religion in our society; how will we include previously marginalised voices? The struggle has been over ideas. And in ideational struggles, civil society, especially the intelligentsia, cannot stay lazy. Thomas Szasz puts it well, “in the human kingdom define or be defined”. Thus far, we have been at the receiving end.

The need to define ourselves necessitates investigation of our past. In regards to this, I find it highly annoying, among other things, that the Nepali cultural and religious ethos gets sub-categorised in academia as being ‘under’ India. The constant interchangeability of the word ‘Hindu’ with the word Indian (ancient Hindu or Buddhist texts to Indian text, Hindu tradition to Indian tradition) is a manifestation of the lack of agency on our part to provide caveats for the present synoptic. Yet where is criticism from the pundits of Nepal? Which India is this? When the nation-state of India itself is a recent concept, what does ancient India mean? How can one squeeze the achievements of a civilisation into a territorially defined nation-state? And what does this mean for a holistic understanding of the subcontinent’s history? Should this attempt to monopolise history not be problematised?

Looking forward

Nepal was/is seen through a prism of exotic adventurism whereby our own human agency is made unimportant. Perceived as being stuck in some dark epoch of time, our daily

rituals have become a tourist attraction. This sense of the exotic has been internalised. We look at the mirror and find ourselves different; we find our customs alien, even incomprehensible. Except for a select few, most of our traditions have been packaged into small, neat bits made easy for the foreign and urban market to consume.

A resistance by the intelligentsia would mean holding up a mirror to much of what we’ve been accustomed to. For the longest time, the most clichéd statements about Nepal—its exotic mysteriousness, the timelessness of its costumes, the hills, the mountains, its kinship and its simplicity—has been a matter of pride and joy. This is most true in diasporas, who when away from the home country continue to dream of Nepal as a utopia—a dream that was never reality. But the intellectual must rise up and dare to say, “This is not it! This is not enough! There is more, and we’ll tell the story”.

If Nepal indeed is losing its sovereignty, a case that has been made time and again, then what is to be done? Living and thriving among giants requires a great deal of compromise but it also requires asserting ourselves and taking a stand when we must. Else, we’ll have no say on how the region is governed and slowly but surely, will lose even a say on the way our own nation is governed. A culture of questioning and self assertion can only come when our intellectuals and opinion makers are willing to provide leadership—since this is a virtue the political class is unwilling and unable to provide.

A version of this article featured in Kathmandu Post. 

I Drink Therefore I Am.

I drink.

For those struggling with this attempt at honesty, I don’t mean green tea. But let me make this easier. I am an enthusiastic consumer of matured and distilled grain and grape.

Some of you may question the intention and timing of this honesty …well, I have had it with people bad mouthing alcohol all the time. “Don’t drink or you’ll be a bum!”, “O MY GOD! You Drink! Is this the education you’ve got- what would your parents say?”  These remarks and the moral police who make them are likely to be met with guilt ridden silence, often followed by an apology; no one says what ought to be said: “Mind your own damn business!”  

Those who enjoy drinking deal with a hypocrisy that is revolting. There is a gap between how the people enjoy their proverbial poison (although I’d prefer a less negative word) and the repercussions they have to face for it. Much of this gap arises from a misunderstanding the difference between ‘getting drunk’ and ‘drinking’.  (Just to clarify: Drinking doesn’t always lead to drunkenness). There is also an astounding difference between drinking, being drunk, and being an alcoholic. These obvious differences are hard to miss, yet avoided for the sake of convenience.

By ignoring these differences, quantity becomes a non issue.  This principle of ignorance is mostly used in institutions which profess and selectively practice the laughable “zero tolerance policy” as an excuse to congratulate oneself for having found a solution to the “drinking problem”.

And who says it’s a problem anyway? Brilliant minds are known to be drinkers. One of India’s finest authors, Khushwant Singh, has been drinking Scotch since 1939; he is now 97. Indeed, he admits to have taught his mother to drink whiskey when she was in her 80’s; she died when she was 94. Ernest Hemingway, Picasso, Napoleon, Truman Capote, Christopher Hitchens, Dorthy Parker, Winston Churchill, Edgar Allan Poe, Laxmi Devkota, Charles Bukowski, Margaret Thatcher, Harivansh Rai Bacchan, to name but a few, are known drinkers. Indeed it would be absurd to argue that they were creative because they drank, but it would also be highly biased to suggest that drinking had no effect on the depth and creativity of their work.

(Random thought: Imagine the world divided between drinkers and nondrinkers; surely you will agree that our camp is populated with the more interesting members of our species.)

On a Religious note
According of The Bible, Jesus, during the Marriage at Cana, turned water into wine. Two questions come to mind: how and why?  This text deals with the more interesting question regarding his intention. Surely someone who cured the sick and raised the dead could as easily turn water into any other beverage of his choice. So why wine? Did Jesus do something against the will of God, or worse, something that would have an adverse effect on his flock?

Sticking with religion, Shiva in his Bhairav roop is a patron of the spirit. So is the Goddess Kali. Many Hindu’s offer and consume alcohol as prashad.  As far as culture and religion is concerned, drinking too has an illustrious history to fall back on.

I am forced to bring in religion and culture in an otherwise materialistic debate because the censorious lot uses it as an excuse to snatch my glass. We all know the problems that arise from treating culture, regardless of where it comes from and whose it is, as a monolith.  Yet, the claim that it’s- not- in- our culture- to- drink refuses to die. This claim is, of course, not true. One need only ask which culture alone has the right to speak for “our culture” and the shaky grounds this argument stands on crumbles.   Also, why is it that it is always the culture that takes offense easily that needs protection?

Sexism, and Western Snobbery

The hypocrisy, previously talked about, takes uglier forms in our society when it gets coupled with other vices that affect us. Women are judged by moral standards that no man is put through. If a women drinks, and, worse, is “caught” then as a “characterless” person she is “justifiably” socially ostracized. For a man the consequences are always less severe. Instances where women have been raped because they drank are not uncommon. In such cases the sympathy is reserved: she drank, means it is partially her fault because she chose to drink.

On a different note, boards that read “ENGLISH WINE AND BEER SHOP” are hard to miss. Focus on the word ENGLISH; there is snobbery there. Local varieties, and those who drink them, trigger an automated inferiority complex. In this, alas, the drinkers and the nondrinker both are to blame: the drinkers for their snobbery, and the nondrinkers for showing a higher level of contempt for the cheaper local booze and the mostly poorer folks who drink them. Drinking “English” liquor somehow reflects a colonial era class, which no native liquor can provide.


Law of unintended consequences


If the rationale for the policy of “zero tolerance” was to encourage those who drink to quit, then as far as I know, not many have switched sides.  On the contrary, many have joined in the revelry, and found the occasional sip or two a pleasant stress buster.

Let’s own up: we all know that the policy of abstinence has failed. But still we shy away from making any change to it. Is this because of the taboo involved? Or because a new, more useful, policy is more work than any one is willing to put in? Of course institutions can have a zero tolerance policy de jure and relax the law de facto, but where does that leave us? At someone’s whim. Bad law is, more often than not, better than arbitrary law.

Master the drink, don’t let it master you.

While starting this essay I use the word honesty rather than confession, because the latter suggests guilt of committing a crime. And I commit none. Yet, I am troubled by some of the possible repercussions of my honesty. Somehow I find it more difficult to not take a position and not say what needs saying.



Our hopes are not too high. We don’t want institutions to serve booze in the mess. Nor do we expect everyone to enjoy drinking. But to treat our pleasure as a sin, us as Satan’s god-child, and the issue as a plague is unwarranted.  I repeat: We enjoy drinking. We are not drunks or alcoholics or criminals and we’ll be damned if we are treated like one!

Drinking does affect the ability to make rational decisions. Some end up doing stupid things, and that needs to be checked and punished accordingly. Yet, there are millions out there who drink without falling prey to stupidity. For a drinker, especially in a relatively conservative society, there is nothing worse than instances where people abuse alcohol. They ruin the experience for everyone else. Attention seeking and bawdiness is as offensive—if not more—to drinkers who want to have a pleasant time, than they are to nondrinkers. Just because they can’t hold their liquor doesn’t mean none of us can. If people are bent on breaking the law and then conveniently pass the buck onto alcohol, then that it yet another reason to lock the ungrateful drunks up.

While discussing the content of this essay with some of my friends more hostile to booze (Yes, I do socialize with that lot as well), they took exception to me defending drinking. They tediously gave me the checklist of the effects of alcoholism on our society: domestic violence, crimes, debts and other social ills that get aggravated by alcoholism. And I agree with them—partially. While I agree that alcoholism is a problem we need to tackle with all immediacy, this essay not about that.  This essay intended to show the hypocrisy involved in the understanding drinking and those who drink it. I am not an apologist for alcoholism. I am an apologist for drinking. This essay, hopefully, has made the distinction clear.



It would be quite a claim to suggest that drinking is a good thing (some do make such a claim), but to claim it very presence as an abhorrence is quite ridiculous as well. Look at the logic used: He broke into a house because he was drunk; he beat his wife because he was drunk; she murdered her husband because she was drunk; she got into a fight because she was drunk, as if alcohol is the reason for such heinous crimes. The person, her circumstances, her context and motivations are the reasons for the crime not the booze. Passing the buck from the person and society to alcohol is merely a convenience.

In Book One, Chapter Two of the Kamasutra Vatsyayana claims that pragmatists have always been weary of pleasure and said indulging “in pleasure acts an obstacle to both religion and power, which are more important, and to other good people…[but] pleasures are a means of sustaining the body, just like food…people must be aware that there are flaws in pleasure, flaws that are like diseases…but people do not stop planting barley because they think ‘there are deer’.” If one does not derive pleasure from liquor so be it, we don’t care. But neither should you about our pleasure. People should not go around telling people what they can enjoy and what they can’t. And if we are to have a meaningful conversation let us at least try to be more open and look at the issue for what it is, and not as narrow minded construction based on horror stories.