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Romance
LILY BILY
CAST:
Jassita Gurung, Pradeep Khadka, Priyanka Karki, Anup Bikram Shahi
DIRECTION:
Milan Chams

When ‘Lily Bily’ reached its interval mark, I was the first one to barge out of the hall, in desperate need of fresh air. Not once in my movie-going life had I so strongly wanted the multiplex’s food counter to sell aspirins. I couldn’t walk out right away because I had to review the whole movie, not just the first half. I envied the five chatty teenagers who were seated next to me at the beginning of the movie because they had no such obligation. They quietly disappeared after the inter­val to maybe spend the rest of the day on something more exciting, given it was the Nepali New Year. As for me, I downed a strong cup of coffee to build my immunity for the second half.

With a title like Lily Bily, I think the makers aspired for a kind of romance between two star-crossed lovers, a la Romeo Juliet, Muna Madan or Laila Majnu. But the movie ends up as the romance between two utterly unlik­able and dimwitted protagonists: Shruti aka Lily (Jassita Gurung) and Avash aka Bily (Pradeep Khadka); a better title for the movie would have been Silly Silly.

The entire movie is a long flash­back that Shruti has inside the Jacobite steam train while travel­ing through the Scottish highlands. In this long flashback, there are multiple mini-flashbacks and voice-over monologues that make the movie an exercise in uninspired writing and boring filmmaking. Everyone involved in this movie, from its director Milan Chams to its leads, and to the person who com­posed the film’s background score, seemed clueless.

It starts off as a road trip movie: two people meeting after a long time. It shifts gear when the girl’s angry ex-boyfriend (Anup Bikram Shahi) makes an appear­ance and throws some kicks and punches at the hero. After that the ex-boyfriend vanishes. The story gets muddled when Shruti’s parents come into the picture along with her would-be fiancé (Sabin Shrestha) and whisk her away from Avash. Shruti then goes against the wishes of her family and pursues Avash, only to find that he has another woman in his life.

The plot is really disposable there­after and stops making sense, with subplots involving euthanasia and what not. Milan Chams, from what I’ve read, is a Nepali filmmaker with a strong footing among the NRNs in the UK. The only possible reason for him to make something like Lily Bily was to use his access to shoot a Nepali movie at a foreign location. So he’s attentive only in making good use of his camera while filming the song sequences.

A third of the movie has people either walking away from each other or running towards each other. And Chams feasts on these moments by shooting them in ultra-slow motion.

Pradeep Khadka, fresh out of Prem Geet, is bereft of any charisma. He’s paired with newcomer Jassita Gurung. Both act cutesy and funny but they are in fact childish puppy lovers, who indulge in banal conversation and fail to give us one memorable dialogue. They play protagonists in an Idiot Plot (a term coined by late film critic Roger Ebert), where the big misunderstanding could have been easily resolved if one character stepped up and spoke with clarity.

I went to the theater expecting Lily Bily to be a feel-good romance. I came out watching a feature length tourism video on Scotland.

KathmanduArticle 17 of the new consti­tution grants the citizens of Nepal “freedom of opinion and expression”. But there is a cave­at. “Reasonable restrictions”, says the charter, may be imposed “on any act which may undermine the nationality, sovereignty, indepen­dence and indivisibility of Nepal, or federal units, or jeopardizes the harmonious relations subsisting among the people of various caste, ethnicity, religion, or communities.”The same Article provisions fur­ther restrictions on acts deemed to “incite racial discrimination, or untouchability, or disrespects labor, or any act of defamation, or con­tempt of court, or an incitement of offence, or is contrary to decent public behavior or morality”.

With so many conditions on free expression and dissent, can we say there is freedom of expres­sion in Nepal?

Couldn’t the state for instance easily misuse the statute to sup­press dissent and stifle free press? After all, this is a country that not long ago deported a foreign nation­al for expressing views that were deemed against ‘national interest’. More recently, some allege that the all-powerful government of KP Sharma Oli is trying to impose severe restrictions on I/NGOs on the pre­text of ‘systematizing’ them. Former prime minister and Nepali Congress President Sher Bahadur Deuba calls it ‘creeping authoritarianism’. More­over, as has recently been the case in India, rumors continue to swirl in Nepal about new laws to ‘regulate’ online news.

In theory, yes. In practice, depends

“Principally, free speech should not be restricted under any condition,” says Bipin Adhikari, an expert on constitutional law. “But it is much easier to advocate for absolute freedom of speech in developed countries. Perhaps it is unrealistic to apply the same stan­dards to developing countries where freedom of expression is but one of the many citizen rights that need state protection.”

In his view, our constitutional provisions are in keeping with the country’s needs and level of devel­opment. More importantly, says Adhikari, the culture of listening to each other and accepting diversity is growing in Nepal.

But writer CK Lal, a trenchant critic of the new constitution—and of what he labels the ‘Per­manent Establishment of Nepal’ (PEON), comprised of the tra­ditionally dominant Khas-Arya ethnic group—sees a troubling trend gaining ground. “Earlier, during the Panchayat rule, there used to be window dressing that pur­portedly depicted the state’s inclusion­ary character. But with ethno-na­tionalism enshrined as the central character of the new constitution, even the need for such window dressing has been dispensed with.”

Lal does not believe dissent is easily tolerated in Nepal because “a society built on a single religion is an inherently dogmatic society. And the more assertive the religion becomes, the more dogmatic the society gets.”

If that is the case, isn’t life difficult for dissidents like him?

“Yes, it is. You become an outcast just because you refuse to jump into the gravy train,” Lal replies.

Permanent critics?

What about the accusation that critics and dissenters like him are stuck in a narrow well and simply cannot see beyond it? And why do they always, as some put it, have to talk negative? “How do you dif­ferentiate between negative and positive views?” asks Yug Pathak, another harsh critic of the current ruling establishment comprised of the ‘old Hindu elite’. “In a free society, there has to be healthy debate on all important issues. Only robust debates produce creative sparks of knowledge.”

Pathak blames Nepal’s “flawed history” for what he sees as the prevalent intolerance. “Things started going awry when the Gorkhalis start­ed their campaign of state expansion and internal col­onization. They controlled the whole narrative. Only at the start of the 20th century did ideas from outside the country start trickling in.”

But even in the 20th century the public space was captured by the ruling elite, Pathak says, largely because they contin­ued to control the means of pro­duction. “The kind of Hindu fundamentalism we see in India these days is absent in Nepal. But whenev­er someone says anything against the dominant narrative, that person is dismissed as a nega­tive influence on the society.”

Fine lines

Siddharth Varadarajan, former editor of The Hindu and the found­ing editor of thewire.in, a vital online platform in India for anti-establish­ment and dissenting views, thinks that one should make a distinction between dissent and freedom of expression. “More than dissent, it’s freedom of expression that’s import­ant,” he told APEX.

“The freedom to express oneself in ways that others may not agree with is essential to a democracy and to a free society. Journalists and writers must be free to write, publish and broadcast. Artists must be free to paint. Directors must have the freedom to make the movies they want. And dissidents must have the freedom to dissent.”

Varadarajan points out that while dissent is legal under the Indian constitution, “the individual’s free­dom of expression is often under assault in India.”

Rubeena Mahato, an outspoken Nepali writer and newspaper col­umnist, also qualifies dissent. “A party intellectual who has benefit­ted from being close to power cen­tres his entire life suddenly becomes a ‘dissenting voice’ simply because he opposes the new government. Hateful, racist and inflammatory speech is given space in the main­stream media in the name of repre­senting ‘dissenting voices’.”

“But when it comes to real dis­sent, one that challenges established wisdom, one that is not just about being disruptive to the authority, but comes with a vision about the future, from a place of moral high ground and often at personal costs and sacrifice to those holding it, we are not so tolerant,” Mahato says.

Adhikari, the constitutional expert, cites the fact that even the remotest communities in the coun­try are ruled by elected bodies these days, with growing representation of women and other traditionally marginalized groups, as an example of how the Nepali state has become more inclusive and tolerant. But Lal, the commentator, sees further entrenchment of the traditional Hin­du ethnic hierarchy with the prom­ulgation of the new constitution, which in his view stifles dissent.

‘Corrected’ women

What about Nepali women Adhikari alludes to? Are they free to speak their mind in ‘New Nepal’? Not so, argues Mahato.

“When a woman speaks, peo­ple still feel the need to ‘correct’ her. So engaging in equal terms in public forums or having a produc­tive debate is close to impossible,” she says. “And if you are a woman with contrarian views, you are likely to be punished for your opinions even more.”

“No wonder so many women just choose to stay silent,” Mahato adds, “even on issues they feel strongly about.”

Such strong, and often polarizing, views suggest that dissent and free speech are still matters of intense debate in Nepal. We can only hope that as our democracy matures, so will our public debates.

For the first time in many years, we are indeed getting a sense that there is a gov­ernment that is serious about its responsibilities. The orderly transfer of leadership in Nepal Police to a deserving candidate, the measures against breaking the transport syndicate and a strong statement against the EU’s non­sensical recommendations are hints of it. In this context, it is only natural for many of us to believe that Prime Minister KP Oli meant what he said in the 18-page speech delivered by the Rara Lake last week. One particular point in that speech touched on ending our dependency on foreign­ers. But the prime minister did not elaborate.

The reality is that despite their lofty diplomatic rhetoric, a weak, unstable and dependent Nepal is in all major global players’ interest. Though it sounds unpalatable, an economic war is being waged upon us, in a classic case of war by other means that keeps us poor, breaks our morale by stripping us off our nation­al pride, and compromises our sovereignty by giving foreigners the power to call the shots here. Sadly, more than foreigners, it’s our leaders who are to be blamed for this pathetic situation.

Let’s consider what the foreign powers are doing here: India always delays the development projects that are of economic importance to us, such as high­ways and hydropower. China is yet to open its door to Nepal’s agriculture products. And others are content bullying us and order­ing us into submission. But there are ways to change things.

According to a report in Nagarik daily (March 3), due to corruption at the tax offices and customs, the government is losing Rs 300-350 million a day in revenues; as such almost Rs 120 billion is lost each year. If we could control this and if we could spend only half of it on infrastructure projects we would not have to depend on foreigners for development aid and assistance.

The government can also slap an additional tax of Rs 20 per pack of cigarettes and Rs 50-100 per bottle of alcohol. And that money too can be pumped into infrastructure projects.

Similarly, it can add a tax of Rs 100-150 for 1,000 liters of drink­ing water as infrastructure devel­opment tax, once the water from Melamchi reaches Kathmandu. That’s still cheaper than what one has to pay the water delivery ser­vices in Kathmandu these days.

Not many people will be offended by these taxes if the gov­ernment promises to use them strictly for development. That’s a small amount to pay for the country’s development and pride, and is nothing compared to the sacrifices made by the citizens of other countries.

If we could do these things immediately, by the end of this year, we will have money to begin the tax-and-build work, i.e. if the government agency respon­sible for collecting taxes takes its job seriously.

It will give the government the freedom to choose the best com­panies, whether domestic or for­eign, to do the job. We will not be stuck with the shady foreign companies whose only purpose seems to be delaying the projects they are working on.

When we break the dependen­cy, we can deal with our neigh­bors and the rest as equals. They will have to think of other ways to make themselves important to us. Most likely China will be more receptive to opening its door to our agriculture and other prod­ucts. Similarly, India too will have to allow hassle-free export of our products. And when we are mod­erately prosperous and strong, our leaders will not have to kow­tow before the foreigners for a few more dollars.

The leadership must under­stand that it needs to assert its authority for the greater good of the country. This means being able to make—and implement—important, albeit harsh, decisions for the greater good of the coun­try and rising above the party’s, personal and various lobbies’ interests. We’ve failed because of weak leadership and we certainly don’t want PM Oli to make the mistakes of his predecessors.

PM Oli has talked the talk. Now he needs to walk the walk.

If you look at the twitter handle of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli (@kpsharmaoli), the banner picture shows him appar­ently “standing by the truth and being dauntless in the face of power”. Whether or not we agree with such a depiction, Oli does have the opportunity to prove his mettle now. In the past two weeks, he deliv­ered two speeches. The first was in India during his state visit at an event organized by the India Foundation in New Delhi. The second was delivered to the nation from Rara Lake on the day of the Nepali New Year and start of the Rara-Karnali Tourism Year 2075.

Both speeches overflowed with good intentions, potentially transformative ideas and new beginnings. PM Oli does deserve some credit for at least pro­jecting an image of himself and his cabinet that is different and is committed to change in the forms of economic devel­opment, good governance and anti-corruption efforts.

Glorious past, rosy future

Both speeches carried an intrin­sic message: Nepal has a rich and prosperous past. But things slowly fell apart. While it is our good fortune to be born in such a beau­tiful country, it is now mired in a vicious cycle of poverty. But there is no reason why we cannot reverse this situation by utilizing our vast resources and natural beauty. Together, we will change the course of our collective des­tiny and reclaim our history.

In India, Oli’s exact words were: “I have a mandate to work for the long-cherished socio-economic transformation of the country. Ours is the dream of a prosper­ous Nepal where people will have a decent living and youths will have decent jobs; where our infra­structure will be better and our vast, untapped resources will be converted into economic bene­fits and wealth. It’s a dream of overcoming the vicious circle of poverty, underdevelopment and social backwardness.”

Reading just this much, it seems almost as though Oli is talking about some other country, and as if Nepal’s last 20 years have no meaning or significance. If the language were slightly more refined, the speech would resem­ble that of a first-world leader. At Rara Lake, Oli’s speech was simi­lar: more about history and glory and natural resources and wealth. He tried again to remind us that there are plenty of reasons to be hopeful about the prosperity of this country.

However, back in reality and on the ground, our woes remain unchanged and unlikely to change.

On the night PM Oli returned to Kathmandu from his India visit, it was around 8:30pm. Inciden­tally, I got stuck in the traffic jam he created as the route from the airport had to be cleared for his entourage. No big deal. After all, these are the kinds of things we have become used to since the days of the monarchy and the Panchayat years.

Similarly, immediately after the glorious Rara Lake speech, PM Oli returned to Kathmandu. What Oli left behind was gar­bage littered all over the coun­try’s prized natural possession on whose back—according to him—Nepal is supposed to prosper through tourism.

Panchayat-era mentality

Of course these are just anec­dotal examples, but they reflect the unwashed remnants of the Panchayat era mentality that if you talk sweet words about prosper­ity, unity and development, you will not be expected to walk the talk. During the Panchayat era, we witnessed royal trips to different parts of the country. Thousands of people used to gather to listen to the rosy speeches of the royal family members. But once they left the venue, the organizers left everything in chaos, forcing the people to clean up afterwards. The purpose of the speeches of those days was to cheer up the public and had literally no practical value or real intent to transform the people’s lives.

Looking at the antics of Prime Minister Oli, there is a growing worry that he will continue to cheer up and cheer on Nepal and Nepalis, but do very little to actu­ally make a positive impact on our lives. That is the last thing Nepal and Nepalis need.