KATHMANDU: It took nearly six decades for the television, born in the 1920s, to reach Nepali households. For me, born in the 1990s, I did not even have to wait six years to encounter that ‘magical box.’ My father, from the 1970s generation, and I both encountered the television (TV) at the same time.

Although I was born in Kathmandu, due to economic and family reasons, my father took me, my mother, and my sister, who is 15 months younger than me, to Ramechhap. After spending three years in Ramechhap, we returned to Kathmandu. We started living in a rented room in Chhetrapati. It was in that location that I encountered a television for the first time in my life.

At that time, for a lower-class family, owning a TV was like ‘longing for the fruit of the sky.’ Therefore, having a neighbor who owned a TV was a matter of ‘luck,’ and we were among the ‘lucky’ ones.

An Indian family living in our neighborhood had a TV. That is where I watched TV for the first time in my life.

Around 8:30 PM, a serial named after some god would air. I don’t remember the name of the serial, but I was amazed to see people wearing various kinds of clothes on the TV. The mountain scenery and the music playing in the background made me feel as if I were there myself; my eyes remained wide open.

While watching TV, questions began to settle in my mind: Where are these people I am seeing? How am I seeing them? Can they see me too? And the biggest question was, how did they fit into such a small box?

While pondering such questions, feeling surprised and delighted, I fell asleep while watching TV. My father came, picked me up, and took me to our room.

In the following days, my father did not have to come looking for me. I started reaching home before he arrived, having already watched TV. There was a boy of our age in that family. My daily routine consisted of spending the entire day playing with him and then watching television once night fell.

Playing was merely a pretext; I often found myself anticipating the arrival of nightfall so that I could watch television at his home. In this way, I fell in love with the TV the moment we met the kind of love where I had to see it once a day. The kind of love where I could spend days and nights watching it, the kind of love that never gets boring.

In the meantime, my sister and I were enrolled in school at the same time. Our daily routine changed, and the schedule for watching TV also stopped. My plan was to finish my homework quickly and go watch TV, but that was not successful either. A rule was made that after returning from school and having a snack, I had to sit with my father in the evening to do homework. Thus, shortly after falling in love, I was separated from the TV. I felt very homesick for it.

Playing was merely a pretext; I often found myself anticipating the arrival of nightfall so that I could watch television at his home.

Giving us homework, my father would say, “You won’t be allowed to go anywhere until you know how to write this.” I would write hurriedly and show it to him, hoping that out of love, he would let me go watch TV. But that didn’t happen. When both of us sisters became capable of recognizing letters and doing homework, we started running to watch TV after finishing our homework quickly before our father arrived.

In fact, our father felt very awkward about us always going to someone else’s house to watch TV. What did we know? Perhaps the TV owners said something to him; one day he said, “You don’t need to go there anymore; if you go, I will break your legs.”

We were in a fix. If not there, where would we go? There was no TV elsewhere. If it were everywhere, we could have gone somewhere else. I felt very angry inside, but what could I say? I sat there sulking.

Story of black lentils

My younger sister loved black lentils immensely. There was no pressure cooker at home, and black lentils did not cook easily in a regular pot. Therefore, my mother always cooked only red lentils, or she would add gravy to the vegetables.

My sister kept insisting on black lentils. For me, it was enough to get food, whether it was red, black, or green. I never felt such a big difference in the taste of lentils, so I didn’t pay much attention to my sister’s persistence.

One day, my mother served rice and placed the plate in front of my sister. My sister did not see the color of the lentils she wanted on the plate. She got so angry that she pushed the rice plate three cubits away. Such anger even in a small child of five to six years!

My father got very angry. He scolded my sister severely and announced a punishment of not giving her rice for seven days. My mother tried to persuade her to eat, but she didn’t agree. My father tried to explain, but my sister did not eat a single morsel of rice that day. My father got up silently and left.

In the evening, I don’t know from where he borrowed money, but my father entered the house carrying a pressure cooker. My sister was overjoyed. I, however, was surprised. Just because she was stubborn, a pressure cooker arrived at the home. A thought immediately played in my mind. “Now I will also ask him to bring a TV.”

My nature was not one to be stubborn or insistent. Therefore, I didn’t even know how to make a demand for something or what kind of stubbornness to show for it. Instead, I felt if my sister had demanded to watch TV instead of insisting on eating black lentils, it would have been fulfilled.

My father got very angry. He scolded my sister severely and announced a punishment of not giving her rice for seven days.

After the pressure cooker came to the house, we all got to eat black lentils. But in my childhood mind, only one thing was playing: my father, who was saying until morning that there was no money, brought a pressure cooker in the evening. If he wanted to, a TV could also come to the house!

After having dinner in the evening, my father sat down again to teach us. My focus, however, was on “where to start the talk about bringing a TV.” Since I was wandering in the world of my own mind, my father’s voice while teaching did not reach my ears at all. I felt as if I were watching a muted television.

Finally, breaking that silence, I suddenly spoke, “If father doesn’t bring a TV, I won’t eat rice from tomorrow either!”

I said it, but I immediately realized from my father’s wide eyes that he looked as if he would eat me up. My father would only scold us; it was my mother’s job to raise her hand. Since I spoke, taking the opportunity of my mother’s absence, I wasn’t very afraid, thinking I wouldn’t get beaten and I wouldn’t die from scolding.

My father, however, got angry. He said, “Monsters are born to torture me! You don’t understand how hard it is for your father; you want a TV! I will go and leave you in the village, then only you will eat and watch TV. You ungrateful brats! I thought you would explain to your younger sister that she shouldn’t be stubborn, but instead, you are taking turns torturing me? Being the elder one, don’t you have to understand?”

When my father started calling my mother after saying this, I lost my wits. Thinking that if my mother, who was washing dishes, heard this, I would be in trouble, I hurriedly said, “Okay, okay, father, I understood.”

At night when it was time to sleep, I heard my parents whispering about us, but I didn’t understand the words clearly. In my heart, however, a resentment was suppressed; my sister is small, and I am so big! I didn’t even remember my sister being small. Since I could remember, she was as big as me; everyone had just taught me to call her “sister.”

Two to four days passed just like that. My saying “I won’t eat rice” that day had stuck in my father’s mind. Choosing a Saturday, my father took us to see a movie. For the first time at Biswajyoti Cinema Hall, the coincidence of watching the film Saathi occurred. If a small TV had enchanted me so much, then oh my, the big screen! I was amazed to see big people speaking, laughing, and dancing!

At night when it was time to sleep, I heard my parents whispering about us, but I didn’t understand the words clearly.

Moreover, there was also a dog in the film. I liked the dog in the film very much. On the way back home, every dog I met on the road started looking like the one in the film to me. On the way, I asked my father in one breath, “How were we able to see this? How did the people get inside there?” Where are they now?”

My father laughed and said, “It’s just shown from a reel after shooting!”

That thing at that time was very far from my capacity of understanding. Even though I didn’t understand, I ended the matter by saying “Oh.”

I was of an inquisitive nature; if I found something strange, I had a habit of having to know, understand, and reach its roots. But I couldn’t find the way to the roots of that mystery.

Here, my meeting with the television had become very thin; we would meet once in 10-15 days, and that too with difficulty for only five-10 minutes.

Simple TV, colorful happiness

We were about to move from Chhetrapati to a rented room in Kalopul. My biggest worry was about the TV. While there, I could at least watch it once in 10-15 days. I felt very upset for fear of losing that opportunity after moving to a new place. Therefore, I didn’t like the idea of moving to a new place at all.

After going to the new place, the school changed, and friends changed. None of my new friends had a TV in their house. Therefore, for me, they became as if they didn’t exist even though they were there.

One day, I saw my father and my eldest uncle’s son lifting a four-cornered “thing” wrapped in a bedsheet through the stairs and bringing it towards the room with great effort. I wondered what that object could be, which was so heavy even when being carried by two strong men. Carrying that “thing” inside the room and placing it on the bed, my father said to my mother, “If it had been five minutes late, someone else would have taken it! It seems second-hand goods slip away quickly. Anyway, it was found cheaply.”

My father was talking about cheap or expensive, but what did I have to do with that? When I found out that the “thing” was a TV, there were no words to express the happiness I felt. The “second-hand” TV had brought “first-hand” happiness to our home. I cannot describe how colorful I felt when the plain (black-and-white) TV came to the house.

While I was overjoyed, my father looked at me and gave a warning, “If your studies get spoiled, I will sell the TV back to where it came from!” I nodded my head in the sense of “okay.”

After that, a line of people who wanted to become my friends started. Since my sister and I studied in the same class, our friends were also common. A crowd of people started coming to our room to watch TV until midnight. How many people could fit in a small room? Even when we said “it’s time to sleep,” people were not willing to leave the room quickly.

“If it had been five minutes late, someone else would have taken it! It seems second-hand goods slip away quickly. Anyway, it was found cheaply.”

My father got frustrated; my mother got fed up. The pressure of people in the room started increasing day by day. Our own room did not feel like our own.

But those days did not last long. Gradually, “second-hand TVs” started entering many houses. Except for one or two, all friends started enjoying the TV in their own homes. After that, a tradition of everyone sitting together and watching TV for one to one-and-a-half hours every evening started in our family.

Once my father started watching TV, however, I would start getting angry. I didn’t like the news at all, but my father liked only the news! On Saturday, the holiday, my father would also stay at home. From morning to evening, he would watch only the news. Therefore, I felt it would be better if my father didn’t stay at home even on Saturdays!

Knowing that my father liked the news very much, one day I said just to please him, “I will become a newsreader when I grow up.” After hearing my words, my father said, “For that, you have to study very well, and the pronunciation must also be clear.” I see the direct influence of what my father said at that time in me now.

Cinematic Juice

I was seven years old when we left the Kalopul rental and moved to Sangam Chowk in Gaurighat. No matter where we moved, it didn’t make much difference to me. Because the house TV would also move with us. At that time, I was a little worried about the school changing and friends leaving. Worries also seem to change according to circumstances.

There were 36 rooms in the house where we lived. In each room, a family lived. Among them, 15-20 rooms were taken by brothers who had come to Kathmandu from Madhesh to work. Only one of them had a TV, which they watched collectively.

About five months after moving there, our TV broke. My father did take it for repair, but due to lack of money, it didn’t return for a month. In the meantime, the summer vacation started. There was leisure time, but there was no TV at home.

In the house next to ours lived Abdul Alam’s uncle’s family. His eldest son used to play with us. Therefore, we started going there to watch TV. Since there was no need to go to school all day, we would grab a bite at home, wash the dishes, and immediately go to watch TV. The whole day would pass watching TV. Cable was connected to his TV, so one could also watch foreign movies and cartoons. That facility was not available at our house.

No matter where we moved, it didn’t make much difference to me. Because the house TV would also move with us.

Alam Uncle’s room was only one, and more than half of it was occupied by the bed. We would sit on the floor and watch TV. Sometimes when they had to go somewhere, they would tell us, “Now leave,” but I would sit there for about 15 minutes as if I hadn’t heard.

After finding out about going to the neighbor’s to watch TV like that, my father brought the repaired TV back. But there was no sign of connecting the cable. I didn’t even have the courage to put that matter before my father.

Suddenly, I stopped liking the TV in my own room. Since I had become used to watching by changing channels on the cable, I started feeling that the house TV, which only received the Nepali channel, was only good for my father to watch the news on.

One could get time to watch TV on Friday half-day and Saturday. At that time, films were broadcast on Friday evening and Saturday afternoon from Nepal Television. Other than watching such films and some telefilms, I stopped caring about the house TV.

The sequence of the TV breaking down increased. Eventually, on the pretext that our studies were being spoiled, my father sold the TV. But the series of going to Alam Uncle’s place to watch cable TV continued.

TVs had also arrived in the two rooms next to our room, but cable was not connected. I had already lost interest in TV without cable.

At that time, the trend of bringing VCR and VCD cassettes on rent to watch films had increased. As soon as I found out that someone had brought a VCR and VCD player, I would become “dear” to them by helping with small tasks. Once I became their favorite character, there was no question of not getting to watch the film. After not having a TV in my own house, my wandering tendency increased even more.

The neighbor brothers also used to bring a VCR or VCD player along with cassettes on rent and watch films on Saturdays. It was certain that I would get a beating if my parents found out I went there, because there would be only men. Along with my sister, I would sit a bit far and watch the films they played. They mostly played Mithun Chakraborty’s films, whom I also liked very much. After having Saturday lunch, they had made it like a tradition to watch films for about two hours.

After eight to ten brothers gathered, they would say, “Now the film is over; you go home,” and they would put us out and lock the door. After this sequence was repeated for two to three weeks, I got angry. A thought played in my mind: “They must surely be watching an even better film after putting us out!”

At that time, the trend of bringing VCR and VCD cassettes on rent to watch films had increased.

I was not the type to leave just because they said “go.” One day, to see what they were actually watching, I peeped inside through a small hole in the door. The TV was facing towards the door, but because the hole was small, I couldn’t see it completely. The sound was also not audible.

It was very difficult for me to determine exactly what that scene was that was barely visible. Because I was seeing such a scene for the first time in my life. I had to wait for my own youth to understand what kind of film they were watching.

Pleasure after the pain

After my youngest sister was born, my responsibility increased to look after and manage her. Once I walked carrying my sister, no one would scold me no matter where I went. Therefore, as soon as I came from school, I would run carrying my sister to someone’s house to watch TV.

My mother had already informed my father about this. But since my studies were also good, he hadn’t found any solid excuse to scold me.

One night, I had gone to a neighbor’s place to watch the telefilm Hijo Aaj Ka Kura. Having gone to watch TV without even eating, I cared neither for hunger nor for sleep. My father had sent my sister to call me. My sister came three times to get me, but I was not going to leave from there until the telefilm ended and “To be continued” appeared. I knew my father would only scold; it was my mother who would beat, and that too only when my father was not around! Therefore, I returned to my room only after the telefilm ended peacefully.

Behind the door of the room was a large plastic cloth washing tub for keeping dirty dishes. Near it, three wooden chairs and stools for eating were kept. My father was eating his meal. As soon as I arrived, he grabbed my hair with his unwashed hand and pushed me toward that basin of dirty dishes.

One night, I had gone to a neighbor’s place to watch the telefilm Hijo Aaj Ka Kura. Having gone to watch TV without even eating, I cared neither for hunger nor for sleep.

That was an event beyond my imagination. I, who had never received a beating from my father, had to face a harsh punishment because of the TV. I couldn’t even cry out of shame. I changed my wet clothes and slept silently. My father didn’t say anything more.

Two or three days after that incident, the TV came to the house again. At that time, the person to connect the cable was also with it. The thought that I didn’t have to go anywhere else to watch TV made me very happy.

Colorful desire

Human needs are also like dreams; no sooner is one fulfilled than another is added! On top of that, it took so long for my needs to be fulfilled that by then, new technology would have already developed. By the time the TV with cable finally arrived at home, the era had turned from black-and-white to color. Therefore, I had to go to the neighbor’s to watch color TV.

Even though there was a TV at home, the series of going out did not stop, so my mother got fed up and would slap me. As soon as I got slapped, I would leave the house crying and sulking and go somewhere.

One day it happened like that. After being dazed by a good beating from my mother, I left the house. Although I left home, after one or two hours, I would feel hungry and be forced to return home. Sometimes I would go to my sister-in-law’s place. Since I had gone there one or two times already, I didn’t feel it was right to go there this time. There was nowhere else to go.

After wondering what to do and how to do it, I made a decision. I might get lost if I walk on side roads, so I will walk straight. I will keep walking; I will go as far as I can reach. After that determination, my journey headed from Sangam Chowk toward Tusal. While walking, I reached the front of a big building where there was a lot of crowd. It was written on the building, Prithvi Chalchitra Mandir.

It felt to me as if a devotee had discovered a grand temple herself. Oh, there was a movie hall there! For me, who had only watched films on TV and Deck, seeing that big hall was strange. I went inside and inspected it. I observed everything, including the ticket counter and the door to enter the hall. I don’t remember exactly which film was playing at that time, but I did make a determination that I must watch a film. I, who had left home crying, was happy when I returned.

I told everyone that I had discovered a cinema hall. For about a month, that was my only job. Only that hall kept playing in my mind. Even in my dreams, I saw myself going to watch a film in the hall. The strange thing was that no one in my house knew that there was a hall there. One day it was decided to go watch a film there, and I got to show the way myself. I felt as proud as if I had won a big war. Later when I read in school about Columbus discovering America, I felt Columbus must have discovered America just as I discovered Prithvi Cinema Hall!

Memories of the supporting character

The mustaches of the characters who made us laugh in the series and films I watched on TV were only below the nose. In fact, such a mustache was kept being influenced by Charlie Chaplin, but what did I know as a child! I hadn’t seen a man in real life who kept a mustache like that. I used to think why don’t people outside the TV also make people laugh by keeping a mustache like that, why does everyone keep a mustache that only makes them look angry?

Once I had said this to my father too. My father always kept a mustache as thick as a caterpillar. Hearing my words, my father said with a laugh, “Am I some kind of a joker to keep a mustache like that? ” I was surprised. Where do those people live who are not seen anywhere outside the TV? And why shouldn’t others keep a mustache like a joker’s?

Many such questions would arise in my childhood mind while watching TV. I would get answers to some and not to others. But the influence of TV and film has been deep in me since then. Based on what I saw on the screen, my perception toward people started to form. I saw people with large bodies and those who grew beards and hair as “villains.” Fair-complexioned people who were neat, smiling, and wore clean clothes were “heroes” for me. Similarly, those with big bellies, who shouted in a loud voice and had big eyes, I saw as “exploiters.” People with soft voices, who had lost their hair and were thin and lean, were “victims” for me.

I learned from watching TV that if someone tries to suppress you, that is injustice, and one should not tolerate injustice. Otherwise, I would have had to stay tolerating injustice for a long time. Because I had been hearing more of the advice, it’s not that you should speak against someone if they do something bad to you, but that one wins by tolerating rather than earning enemies by speaking too much. But the stories on the screen inspired me to raise my voice against injustice.

I saw people with large bodies and those who grew beards and hair as “villains.” Fair-complexioned people who were neat, smiling, and wore clean clothes were “heroes” for me.

At that time, the memory of every program broadcast on TV, the tune, and the person appearing there easily takes me back to that same time. I become completely “nostalgic.” Although the central character of my childhood was myself, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that the supporting character was the TV. In fact, the favorite friend of my childhood who surprised me for the first time and awakened a desire to possess was the TV.

Even now, memories related to TV give me a different kind of pleasure. Although every era has its own characteristics and importance. There are sweet memories associated with them. Today everyone has a mobile phone in their hands. Whatever one wants to watch, they can watch it. One can find a ‘search list’ on YouTube according to age. One must also keep molding themselves according to the changes that come with time. But somewhere, after the arrival of mobile phones, the culture of all family members watching TV together is disappearing. After getting to taste according to one’s own will and interest, who would like to remain under the ‘remote control’ of someone else?

The kind of brotherhood of that time when we went to a neighbor’s house to watch TV has become impossible in current times. ‘Privacy’ has started making people strangers even inside the same house. Leave alone the matter of staying at someone’s house until late; people have started feeling awkward even to go say something during the day. Rules made according to time later become culture. Perhaps we are now creating a culture of loneliness. At such a time, I keep remembering the collectivity of the TV era.