The romantics
Who believed
The sun can sulk
The moon can hide
– Shillong-based poet Temsula Ao in "Stone-people from Lungterok"
When the funeral cortège of Girija Prasad Koirala (20 February 1925 – 20 March 2010) began its slow journey towards the Aryaghat crematorium on the banks of the Bagmati River near the temple of Pashupatinath, hundreds of thousands thronged the narrow streets of Kathmandu. The party faithful chanted the customary slogans. Leaders walked along with sad faces. But what was remarkable for a crowd of this size in Nepal was the comparative silence that hung thick in the heat of the late spring afternoon. Though not as cacophonous as Punjabis or as voluble as Bengalis and Sinhalese, Nepalis too love to banter, gesticulating and making noise even during solemn ceremonies. Even the show of grief is usually full of sound and fury. On 21 March, the mourners in Kathmandu were unusually sullen. It was as though they had realised they had lost something valuable, but knew not what exactly it was.
Perhaps what has been lost with the passing of Koirala is the last link with the romanticism of the early 20th century. Koirala was one of the original dreamers of Southasia, believing that the sun would set on the British Empire, and that the royal houses tracing their ancestry to the moon would too someday be found only in the pages of history. When dreamers die, even death bows its head in respect. It was this that left the crowd in Kathmandu speechless. There will, of course, be other leaders to hold the torch of freedom and democracy. From across the border, a visibly tired Pranab Mukherjee, a nattily dressed S M Krishna and a sombre Meira Kumar paid their last respects to Koirala, as did Rajnath Singh of the Hindu right and Sitaram Yechury from the moderate left of Indian politics. They were all there at the Aryaghat, representing the gratitude of a generation that had waged democratic battles across international borders.
From home, accompanying Koirala's body to the cremation ghat were the claimants to the mantle of Nepali Congress leadership. Daughter Sujata Koirala and cousin Sushil Koirala waved at the crowds from left side of the truck, while Ram Chandra Paudel raised his hands towards the right and Sher Bahadur Deuba sat bang in the middle, as if to keep watch on the flag-wrapped body of the late Koirala. All these politicos have their own records of struggles. But none of them shared the dream that pushed the leaders of independence movements across Southasia to take impossible risks and then face all consequences with fortitude and perseverance.