The three musketeers
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As the political class seems not to have given much attention to my political features, I decided to hark back to my own past this time. Raised in a traditional Brahmin family, I had the advantage of early literacy. There was no formal school in our village. A teacher brought by our grandfather taught some village boys and girls for some time, but this arrangement did not last. It was my father, a Pundit, who taught me Sanskrit verses like Chandi, Amar Kosh and Geeta and Rudri after my Upanayan Sanskar (induction into Brahminhood). He also taught me basic arithmetic. My knowledge of English was limited to this.
When a school was formally started in Fikkal, Ilam, I was a 12-year-old boy. The headmaster enrolled me in class two. The next day, the headmaster gave the class an arithmetic problem. It was a problem in division and the supposedly best student in the class and I came out with different answers. I had followed the method taught by my father. The headmaster informed the class that my answer was the right one. He decided to promote me to class three, the highest in the school, because I was better than the best in class two.
Although my stint in class two lasted for just a day, I had met someone who would go on to be my best friend. He was Devi Prasad Dhungana, the nephew of my second aunt. As our village Maghe was far from Fikkal, I had to stay with my grandaunt. Devi lived next door and we went to school together. This common journey cemented our friendship. We also had another friend, Toyanath Bhattarai, who was from a distant village Jamuna, just next door. Devi could not clear the final exam, but with training, he became the village teacher and remained a head master throughout his life. Toyanath also did not go very far in his academic career, but became a district-level leader later in life.
My promotion to class three was significant. I was not junior to anyone anymore. I was respected in the family and the village as an intelligent boy. Competition was tough and I had to prove myself. There were not many students, just about a dozen. Out of these, I figured that one Tara Nath Sharma stood out. Next there was Pasang Sherpa (later known as Pasang Goperma), a pleasant, warm and caring person who would soon become one of my good friends.
Tara’s father was a junior government servant posted in Fikkal. Pasang’s father lived as a respectable Lama in the hills of Karfok, locally called Kalapani. I was from Maghe, a village close to Kalapani. So, in a way, Pasang and I were neighbours. Tara’s father Prajapati Upadhyaya, my father Devi Bhakta Upadhyaya and Pasang’s father Furba Tenjing Sherpa were good friends. They met once every week on Thursday when Fikkal had its weekly Haat Bazaar.
There was one more student—Furba Ghishing, one from Kalapani, one from Pashupatinagar and one from Fikkal bazaar itself. The rest came from different villages which I do not recollect. But none of them went far in academia. Tara, Pasang and I became the three musketeers of sorts. Sometime later a student from Jaharsing Village joined class two: Karna Bahadur Sapkota, who later changed his name to Birendra Nath Khunjeli. He had a flair for literature, particularly poetry. He became the fourth musketeer of Fikkal who joined government service and became the first ever government Secretary from Eastern Ilam.
In about three months’ time from the day of my joining the school, there was an examination. I could answer all the questions from the texts that were taught after joining the school, but there were some questions from texts which I had missed out on. I started weeping in the examination room, fearing the unforeseen. I was most afraid of sinning—and the failure to answer was a sin. When the results came out, I stood second, behind Tara. Thus, Tara became my direct competitor. In the final class four examinations, Tara remained first while I stood second. But the results of the examination reversed the order. I was declared first and Tara became second.
That declaration of results is an interesting story. In the final class four exam, I scored 466 and Tara 465 out of the total 500 marks, a difference of one mark. There was a custom of giving the answer papers to the students for review. I found that two marks were missing in one of my answer papers. Similarly Tara found that three marks were missing in his. Both the marks sheets totaled 468. The headmaster was puzzled. Tara disputed that there was one spelling mistake in my English answer paper. So the headmaster decided to retest our English. He made a fresh question paper and we took the examination that morning. He then checked the answer papers, declaring me first with 84 marks and Tara second with 77.5 marks. Thus, I became the first boy in class five. However, Tara bagged the top spot in class five exams, relegating me to second.
I feel proud to declare that my friend and competitor Tara Nath Sharma has become an icon of Nepali literature. So is Pasang, now renowned in the Nepali political circle. We had departed in class six because our headmaster fell in the government black list. He quit and there was no one to take up the responsibility. Pasang and Tara went to study in Darjeeling together with Birendra. I turned to Banaras, where I completed my matriculation and the intermediate level. Then Tara and I completeed our BA together from Banaras Hindu University. Pasang completed his BA from Kathmandu a year later. Birendra, the year after. He would later hold top posts in government service. But he soon left us after his retirement. However, the three musketeers are still celebrating their childhood friendship with utmost gusto.
knsad66@yahoo.com
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