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हेच्छाकुप्पा [Hetchhakuppa]
221 pages, Paperback
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About the author
Rajan Mukarung
4 books15 followersRajan Mukarung is a Nepali writer and novelist. His novel Damini Bhir was awarded with Madan Puraskar for the year 2012. He is one of the initiators of the movement called Srijanshil Arajakta (Creative Anarchy) along with Upendra Subba and Hangyug Agyat.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
January 8, 2019
A promising beginning, flashes of brilliant writing, a no-holds-barred interpretation of modern day Nepal, and a readable novel that is destroyed by its compulsive need to include propaganda - that is what Rajan Mukarung's work Hetchhakuppa is all about.
The novel grabs attention merely by its unique title - Hetchhakuppa - which we are explained, is a character from the sacred Mundhum of the Kiratis. Mukarung has created a parallel to this mythical hero in his protagonist Sangen; who is again a representative of numerous faceless and voiceless Kiratis. The story traces several years of Sangen's life, beginning from the sleepy village of Dilpa and getting enmeshed in the ruthless environs of Kathmandu. While it is sometimes interesting and thought-provoking to get involved in this transformation of Sangen, the lack of a gripping plot fails to take this novel to greater heights.
The beauty of the novel lies in its beginnings, when the readers are intimately introduced to the characters and ways of life existing in the village of ancient Dilungpa. The planting scene, the gossip at the water-tap, the adorable rituals of returning an eloped bride or asking for the hand of a daughter, the myth of Bakhamma woven seamlessly into the narrative, the conversation about lahures among the young girls - every scene has been elaborated to the last detail. It is evident that Mukarung has just recorded daily happenings and presented them for the reader's benefit. This is the portion where sentences flow as smoothly as liquid, one does not have to wait or think but merely take pleasure in it. One example would be a description of a lahure: "A brilliant rainbow with waterfalls of all seven colours."
This idyllic rural life is transformed due to the affair and eventual marriage between Sangen and his bahun student Sabitra. This is where the indulgent tone of the novel also changes into a fiery one. In contrast to the easy acceptance of elopement within their own caste, the Sangen-Sabitra union has perilous overtures. Universal disapproval almost forces them to flee to Kathmandu, where Sangen had once before been humiliated in his attempt to be a poet and had vowed never to return.
But return he has to, and this also causes a reappearance of his earlier frustrations. The novel loses its distinct flavour from this point, just as Sangen loses the status of a hero. He is revealed for what he is - a confused, ideologically broad-minded but practically still a pseudo-Marxist hypocrite. To the end of the novel, he keeps trying to justify his ideas about caste distinctions but to the readers he merely appears prejudiced - this could well be termed his hamartia, leading to the ultimate downfall. Traces of his rigidity are found in the torturous and suffocating conversations (read full-fledged arguemnts) between husband and wife about race and religion.
These random conversations are all that remain in the novel from the time of Sangen's arrival in the unwelcoming capital - the plot simply goes haywire. There are random characters interspersed with his life and journalistic profession who only take pleasure in organizing rallies, bitching about the political environment and its disregard of them, discussing the plight of ex-gurkhas, complaining of being marginalized and mostly just venting out their grouse against those with 'long and sharp noses'. In between, every single difficulty of existing in Kathmandu is exhibited through Sangen's eyes: a grouchy landlord, professional insecurity, superficial relations.
And always, always the poverty - leading a sharp young man to be swindled by a manpower company; another youth to be killed in armed combat; a receptionist to take up a job as a so-called waitress. The tale, meanwhile, continues in its meandering path, showcasing political unrest and an unrequited (thus painful) love story in the midst. By the end, when the now-jobless and lonely Sangen begins to loiter around bhattis; and the readers just follow the motions of following him around aimlessly, the passion and interest of the start now at a minimum; just to behold the touching yet somehow unsatisfactory climax.
There is a minute observation of our country's frustrating scenario and its aftermaths, though oftentimes it remains merely a rant. But no matter how biased a turn the accusations may take; even when the novel limits itself to being nothing but a list of grievances, nothing can take away the actual beauty of the writing. There is a marked lyrical quality and rhythm in the sentences, as in this one: "Midday of Chaitra, the condition of crowdedness, and people's heat." Or in the description of the loneliness imparted by the capital: "Even though many know that Kathmandu is cold, selfish and unhelpful, there is a compulsion to get frozen in this very Kathmandu."
The writer indulges in plenty of effortless word-play - such careless styling can only be an inborn talent. A single sentence evokes numerous images and associations - "After his cheek was licked with the energy of acting in the characterless sugar cabin, Sangen felt as if the foetus of his ideals had died there." The poems interwoven into the narrative, assumedly original, also showcase the aesthetics of the writer. Perfect evidence is provided by a poem entitled "Yalambar's Arrival."
Along with such poems, the sheer strength of the chosen expressions and the underlying vitality will appeal to many a reader. So will the philosophical thoughts sprouting here and there, as in "A human only blooms and blossoms with the help of problems." But an inability to retain this innocence and simplicity for a greater length and resorting to calculating tactics certainly harms the eminence of the work. While the display of pride in one's identity and a sincere effort to desiccate obstacles in upholding it is commendable, disparaging other identities in the process certainly takes away the credibility of the whole work.
The novel grabs attention merely by its unique title - Hetchhakuppa - which we are explained, is a character from the sacred Mundhum of the Kiratis. Mukarung has created a parallel to this mythical hero in his protagonist Sangen; who is again a representative of numerous faceless and voiceless Kiratis. The story traces several years of Sangen's life, beginning from the sleepy village of Dilpa and getting enmeshed in the ruthless environs of Kathmandu. While it is sometimes interesting and thought-provoking to get involved in this transformation of Sangen, the lack of a gripping plot fails to take this novel to greater heights.
The beauty of the novel lies in its beginnings, when the readers are intimately introduced to the characters and ways of life existing in the village of ancient Dilungpa. The planting scene, the gossip at the water-tap, the adorable rituals of returning an eloped bride or asking for the hand of a daughter, the myth of Bakhamma woven seamlessly into the narrative, the conversation about lahures among the young girls - every scene has been elaborated to the last detail. It is evident that Mukarung has just recorded daily happenings and presented them for the reader's benefit. This is the portion where sentences flow as smoothly as liquid, one does not have to wait or think but merely take pleasure in it. One example would be a description of a lahure: "A brilliant rainbow with waterfalls of all seven colours."
This idyllic rural life is transformed due to the affair and eventual marriage between Sangen and his bahun student Sabitra. This is where the indulgent tone of the novel also changes into a fiery one. In contrast to the easy acceptance of elopement within their own caste, the Sangen-Sabitra union has perilous overtures. Universal disapproval almost forces them to flee to Kathmandu, where Sangen had once before been humiliated in his attempt to be a poet and had vowed never to return.
But return he has to, and this also causes a reappearance of his earlier frustrations. The novel loses its distinct flavour from this point, just as Sangen loses the status of a hero. He is revealed for what he is - a confused, ideologically broad-minded but practically still a pseudo-Marxist hypocrite. To the end of the novel, he keeps trying to justify his ideas about caste distinctions but to the readers he merely appears prejudiced - this could well be termed his hamartia, leading to the ultimate downfall. Traces of his rigidity are found in the torturous and suffocating conversations (read full-fledged arguemnts) between husband and wife about race and religion.
These random conversations are all that remain in the novel from the time of Sangen's arrival in the unwelcoming capital - the plot simply goes haywire. There are random characters interspersed with his life and journalistic profession who only take pleasure in organizing rallies, bitching about the political environment and its disregard of them, discussing the plight of ex-gurkhas, complaining of being marginalized and mostly just venting out their grouse against those with 'long and sharp noses'. In between, every single difficulty of existing in Kathmandu is exhibited through Sangen's eyes: a grouchy landlord, professional insecurity, superficial relations.
And always, always the poverty - leading a sharp young man to be swindled by a manpower company; another youth to be killed in armed combat; a receptionist to take up a job as a so-called waitress. The tale, meanwhile, continues in its meandering path, showcasing political unrest and an unrequited (thus painful) love story in the midst. By the end, when the now-jobless and lonely Sangen begins to loiter around bhattis; and the readers just follow the motions of following him around aimlessly, the passion and interest of the start now at a minimum; just to behold the touching yet somehow unsatisfactory climax.
There is a minute observation of our country's frustrating scenario and its aftermaths, though oftentimes it remains merely a rant. But no matter how biased a turn the accusations may take; even when the novel limits itself to being nothing but a list of grievances, nothing can take away the actual beauty of the writing. There is a marked lyrical quality and rhythm in the sentences, as in this one: "Midday of Chaitra, the condition of crowdedness, and people's heat." Or in the description of the loneliness imparted by the capital: "Even though many know that Kathmandu is cold, selfish and unhelpful, there is a compulsion to get frozen in this very Kathmandu."
The writer indulges in plenty of effortless word-play - such careless styling can only be an inborn talent. A single sentence evokes numerous images and associations - "After his cheek was licked with the energy of acting in the characterless sugar cabin, Sangen felt as if the foetus of his ideals had died there." The poems interwoven into the narrative, assumedly original, also showcase the aesthetics of the writer. Perfect evidence is provided by a poem entitled "Yalambar's Arrival."
Along with such poems, the sheer strength of the chosen expressions and the underlying vitality will appeal to many a reader. So will the philosophical thoughts sprouting here and there, as in "A human only blooms and blossoms with the help of problems." But an inability to retain this innocence and simplicity for a greater length and resorting to calculating tactics certainly harms the eminence of the work. While the display of pride in one's identity and a sincere effort to desiccate obstacles in upholding it is commendable, disparaging other identities in the process certainly takes away the credibility of the whole work.
September 20, 2014
हेच्छाकुप्पा समग्रमा पढ्न रमाइलो छ। दमिनी भिर कै छन्को आउँछ उपन्यासमा! राजन मुकारुंगको कलमको तारिफ गर्नै पर्छ। एउटा शोषित वर्गको पिडादायक स्थिति प्रस्तुत गरिएको छ। हुन त मेरो यो प्रतिकृयालाई वाहुनवादी मानिन सकिएला तर पनि कुनै कुनै वाक्यहरु व्यक्तिवादी नभइदिएको भए हामीजस्ता पाठकलाई पनि विझ्दैन थियो होला(यदि समग्र पाठक नसमेटेर जातिवादी उपन्यासनै वनाउन खोजेको हो भने , मेरो भन्नु केहि छैन)।जस्तो कि वुहारी कज्याउने वधुशिक्षा लेख्ने नेपालमा आदिकवी वन्छन्,वुढीको शोकमा श्लोक लेख्ने राष्ट्रिय कवि ,अनि हाम्री सुम्निमा सँग सम्भोग गरेको कथा लेख्ने समाजवादी)। मेरो विचारमा जात सामन्ति हुन्न मान्छे हुन्छन्। कति सम्म लेख्ने भन्ने कुराको सिमा कोरिनुपर्छ। समग्रमा तँपाइको कलमप्रति साधुवाद- एउटा काठे वाहुन।
December 1, 2018
अाहा ! यश उपन्यासले त मेरो गाउँठाउँकै याद दिलायो, मुन्दुमका अाख्यानहरु समेटिएर लिखिएको रहेछ अझै यस्ता पुस्तकहरु पढ्न पाअौ ।।
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