BIRGUNJ: No serious literary work in the world merely tells a story; it records its time, society, and the lived experiences of people. Reading Nabin Abhilashi’s story collection Dahad, I felt exactly that same sensation that viewing it merely as a collection of stories would be wrong.

This collection excavates the cruel history of the Panchayat era. Specifically, by bringing the lived experiences of marginalized, neglected, and struggling people of Nepali society from three and a half decades ago (35 years ago) into the center of the stories, this collection powerfully presents the social responsibility of literature.

Looking at the psychology of the characters in each story within Dahad, it feels as though they are the real faces of the Nepali society of that time, who authentically express every single event of their lived experiences. And this is indeed the strongest aspect of the story collection. There are 12 stories in the collection, and all the stories succeed in illustrating what the picture of Nepali society was like during the Panchayat regime. In particular, the characters of the stories are drawn from marginalized communities, geographies, and structures.

The first-person character ‘Me’ and his mother Radi in the story ‘Hriti‘, Basanti in the story ‘Uchitte‘, Dukhram in the story ‘Kinar‘, the elderly mother Shanti Devi in the story ‘Chaurasi‘, and Sundari and Kamali in the story ‘Parityakta‘ are representative characters pushed outside the social mainstream. Their pain is not merely personal but is mentioned as a collective pain constructed from poverty, social discrimination, inequality of opportunity, and structural neglect.

As one continues reading the stories, a question arises repeatedly in the mind: why are these characters so helpless? Is that their fate, or the product of structures created by this society? The stories within Dahad bring the reader face-to-face with these very questions. The contexts of the stories are so poignant that the characters’ pain shatters the reader’s heart repeatedly, taking the reader toward their own distant past and toward the uncomfortable times caused by discrimination within society.

While the story “Ekka” exposes the violent face of the feudal mindset, the title story “Dahad” depicts how public trust in political change has turned into disappointment time and again. This story clearly reveals the reality that despite changes in the system, the expected transformation in the lives of ordinary people has failed to materialize.

However, the characters of Dahad should not be understood as characters of mere pity. Within their silence lies a strong voice of resistance, and the author has presented it very artistically. Even though Kaili and Pyarelal in the story ‘Sinhur‘ and Mauni in the story ‘Kinar‘ do not speak the loud language of rebellion, they are seen rebelling through their existence, self-respect, and life struggle.

Indal in the story ‘Ekka‘ and Garja Bahadur Gandharva in the story ‘Taana‘ put up very strong social, cultural, and political resistance and debate. Almost all stories have tragic endings, but it is not difficult for the reader to understand that their defeat is a disagreement against an unjust social structure.

Arriving from the story ‘Raiyaan‘ to the story ‘Chaurasi‘, the harsh realities of human cruelty and caste discrimination are unveiled.

The lifespan of Dukhram in the story ‘Kinar‘ keeps flowing continuously like a river, but his happiness and progress seem stuck at the shore. This story expresses human liberation from sorrow and freedom very deeply. When the boat on the shore is swept away by the flood, the endless series of his sorrows also comes to an end.

The story ‘Ekka‘ shows the violent face of a feudal mindset, while the title story Dahad depicts how public trust in political change has turned into disappointment time and again. This story clearly reveals the reality that despite the change in system, the expected change in the life of ordinary people has not occurred.

The story ‘Taana‘ poignantly presents the cultural existence of the Gandharva community and the social devaluation of their traditional profession. Garje’s dream of saving the Sarangi should be understood not just as an individual’s dream but as a struggle to save the existence of a culture.

Similarly, the story ‘Aafre‘ raises serious questions about the social structure that does not respect labor and skill. The story ‘Damaha‘ vividly presents the tragedy of migration, caste discrimination, and poverty, exposing the deep social wounds of Nepali society.

‘Dahad’ is a literary chronicle of voices suppressed in the hidden history of Nepali society. It not only tells the story of people on the margins, but also brings their existence, self-respect, and resistance into sharp focus.

I primarily know Nabin Abhilashi as an aggressive poet. Therefore, while reading Dahaad, a question repeatedly arose in my mind: why do the characters in his stories look so helpless, so silent, and so defenseless? Can the voice of resistance in a rebellious poet’s story be so faint? How was this possible?

However, right during the reading of the book came the tragic news of Ganesh Nepali’s self-immolation. That incident crushed all my arguments into dust at once. After that, I felt that Nabin’s characters are not weak; they are representative characters of a social structure where all doors to resist are gradually closing. Their silence is a more painful expression of helplessness imposed by the system and circumstances than cowardice.

Even after reading the stories included in Dahad, their impact remains for a long time. Why was Basanti forced to hang herself? What is the mystery behind Kamali’s death? Where did Devi Lal disappear? Such questions keep pursuing the reader even after finishing the story. Are Ganesh Nepalis a new version of Basanti, Kamali, and Dukhrams? This very question shakes the reader’s consciousness, raising the question of self-examination regarding the structures of society and the state.

Another important aspect of the story collection Dahad is its linguistic beauty. Filled with poetic sensitivity, the storyteller’s language is smooth and effective. Here, linguistic beauty has emerged not just as a medium for storytelling but as an artistic power that deepens feeling. The musical dialogue between Bhime and Kamali is thoroughly captivating. Meaningful imagery, poetic expression, and the flavor of regionality have made the stories even more vivid while increasing the credibility of the narrative.

Due to the dimension of consciousness carried by the narrative, Dahaad has established itself in contemporary Nepali short story literature as an important work demanding serious reading, discussion, and self-examination.

In this story collection, as signaled by the title, a loud voice or direct rebellion may not always be found. Stories of silent pain, suppressed voices, and enduring lives are found more often. However, the silence of these characters gives birth to a deep roar (dahad) inside the reader’s heart. The questions that arise after reading the story return us to our own social responsibility.

Overall, Dahad is a literary record of voices suppressed in the hidden history of Nepali society. It not only tells the story of people on the margins but also brings their existence, self-respect, and resistance into focus. It places today’s people in the moral dock through characters that shake the soul of society. Now, these stories tell us that history belongs not only to the powerful but that the struggles and dreams of people standing on the margins are also part of history.

Nabin Abhilashi has followed the traditional path in storytelling. Readers expecting novel experimentation in story craft might feel something is lacking, but the dimension of consciousness, sensitivity, and social awareness carried by the plot compensates for that shortcoming to a large extent. Due to the consciousness aspect carried by the narrative, Dahad has established itself in contemporary Nepali story literature as an important work demanding serious reading, discussion, and self-examination.