In the recent decade, Nepal has seen a significant rise in poets writing in English. With events catered for emerging authors, more publishing opportunities, and the popularity of anthologies such as ‘These Fine Lines’ (Giri, 2016) and ‘An Archive’ (Giri, 2022), at least in Kathmandu, it is reasonable for readers to be excited about the future of Nepali poems in English.

But what was the beginning of this? And who are we now?

‘Kavya’ offers some answers to these questions. Edited by Khem K Aryal, Tika Lamsal, Saraswoti Lamichhane, Raj K Baral, and Narayan Bhattarai, this anthology, published by Vajra Books earlier this year, includes works by 37 Nepali poets from the 1950s to the present.

The collection opens with ten poems by Laxmi Prasad Devkota. This choice by the editors perfectly aligns with the ‘Mahakavi’ being credited as the pioneer of English writing in Nepal.

“Already a highly accomplished Nepali poet and essayist by the 1950s, Devkota composed original works in English, paving the way for other Nepali writers,” share the editors in the introductory pages. Names and dates that add life to the trajectory of this canon of Nepali literature follow in the same section.

The themes in Devkota’s poems are timeless—relatable now as they were then and will be in the future. These lines in his poem ‘Music’ demonstrate that eternality:

“I believe, shall I not? The art, in fact

Is the working sense of god in our tact?”

At the same time, his choices of structure and literary devices pin him back to the traditional era of writing styles heavily influenced by European poets, including Williams Wordsworth and John Keats. For instance, all ten of his poems focus on rhyme scheme, a trend contemporary poetry has slowly detached from.

This remnant of old white poets lingers throughout the collection, especially in rhyme schemes and the use of archaic words ages even the more contemporary selections in this collection. Then there are exceptions, beautiful breakages from the traditions, reminding us that poetry is a discipline of emergence. Samyak Shertok’s ‘Lachryphagus’ and Abhi Subedi's ‘A View from the Optical House in Asan’ are two examples of this refreshing redirection.

The contrast between the old and emerging styles in the anthology is an example of English poetry’s evolution here. It could also just be a difference in preferences. And, more thrillingly, a testament to how Nepali poets are now “using a language and making it our own by the very act of using it.”

According to the editors, Nepali poetry in English began with the purpose of delivering Nepali literature to the English-speaking world. That was Devkota’s intention. So, the poems of that era imitating the forms from the English-speaking world is natural.

Now we write for us, mostly. We use English and make it our own, and the best poems in this collection do that. They focus on the essence of the piece. Structure, literary devices, and vocabulary come secondary as supporting characters. These poems hold present and authenticity. Others feel stuck in the past and, sometimes, forced.

What makes the works in this anthology Nepali, besides the poet’s identity, though?

The book allows its readers to decide that on their own. And the answer varies depending on our own identities and experiences. For me, it was the consistent occurrence of Nepali places, poets and events, among other things. Whether in Durga Prasad Bhandari’s poem ‘Nagarkot’, Saraswoti Lamichhane’s ‘Dashain’, or countless local references in other poems, the appearance of Nepal was evident and overwhelming in a positive way.

Finding these familiar references in a foreign language that usually doesn’t house them almost feels diasporic—like hearing a stranger speaking your mother tongue from your homeland on a train in Boston. It is an experience that requires a reckoning of who you are versus where you are.

The theme of an immigrant navigating the loss of their homeland is touched upon multiple times in ‘Kavya’. ‘What’s at Stake?’ and ‘Losing your Country, Shade by Shade’ by Khem K Aryal are both compelling poems that touch on the aches of immigration.

“While still claiming to have a country

You love, of your own,

Grain by grain,

You lose your country

Shade by shade."

While most poems in this anthology call for the longing and love of the nation left behind, Tsering Wangmo Dhompa’s poem ‘Revolute’ questions that concept. And in that critique rests a loss of a different kind. Perhaps the most powerful lines in this entire book, Dhompa asks.

“Should all poems by us refer to the nation?

A poem is a map of intentions knotted into the landscape

Children and women are instructed to follow back

To nation. Home is defined by those who have not lost their home.”

The motif of loss continues to reverberate throughout the collection. Loss of parents as in Padma Devkota’s poem, ‘Out of the Door’, and Nabin K Chhetri’s ‘My Father’s Dream’, loss of youth as in Laxmi Devi Rajbhandari’s poem ‘Graceful Exit,’ and Basanta Lohani’s ‘A Lost Childhood’, loss of a lover as in DB Gurung’s ‘Chemistry Before Separation’, and Peter J Karthak’s ‘A Song by the Airport’, loss of peace (in reference to the civil war) as in Mohan Lohani's ‘Chaos in Shangrila’, and Khem K Aryal’s ‘Candles at the Mandala’.

“To inherit the throat is to inherit the elegy,” writes Samyak Shertok in his poem ‘Lachryphagus’. This may be why loss is the most pervasive muse in this collection and many others.

But these poems are an antidote to that loss, a re-conjuring of the gone. An immigrant writes a haiku about homesickness and, in doing so, reaffirms his loyalty to his homeland. A man writes a sonnet about his separated lover and, in doing so, brings her back with memories and metaphors.

The anthology presents several other themes, literary choices, and cultural locations to ponder. The most relevant gift, however, is the journey across the timeline it takes us through, with little pauses to pay homage to not just Devkota but other Nepali literary giants such as Gopal Prasad Rimal by Yuyutsu Sharma, Bhanubhakta by Mohan Lohani, and Parijaat by Ammaraj Joshi.

On the downside, the collection lacks representation of diverse identities and marginalised lives. Though there are almost 150 poems in this book, there is a loud void of voices from the frontlines of Nepali social justice spaces. The recent outpour of poets at protests, feminist marches, magazine columns critiquing the status quo, and the publication of ‘Songs of Revolution’ (2022), an anthology of queer Nepali poets, all shed light on a glorious direction Nepali poetry is headed towards regardless of the language. Including them would have elevated the book and depicted a fuller picture of this timeline.

Nonetheless, ‘Kavya’ is a treat for anyone interested in Nepali English poetry. It is a time capsule and a chronology still breathing, growing, and very alive; a declaration of the genre’s relevance and a bold reclamation of space and regard in Nepali literature.

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Kavya

Editors: Khem K Aryal, Tika Lamsal, Saraswoti Lamichhane, Raj K Baral, Narayan Bhattarai

Publisher: Vajra Books

Year: 2023