BP the great

Today is Shrawan 6. My respects to Late BP Koirala.

I am attached to him. Not only because I belong to the same clan. Also because his persona –both in politics and literature–has been kind of inspiration to me. Before I understood what BP really is, I used to say “I am the second BP.” My family members still tease me mimicking the style in which I said so in my childhood.

When I get sore throat, my voice becomes like that of BP when he was ailing from throat cancer. And, then again I am teased!

When he was breathing, I never got a chance to meet him. Had I met him, I even would not understand that time who he was. However, despite my tender age, I participated in his death procession.

Carrying me, Baba stood at the chowk just opposite of the Krishna Pauroti—waiting the procession. I saw BP’s body laid in an open lorry that was passing through different places of the city before cremation. Flowers and coconuts are the things –that I still remember– around the body. Only the face was seeable.

Bald head, grey facial hair, face turning pale and with mouth agape (I believe mouth was plugged with cotton). Again, his face had some luster.

Hundreds of people were taking part in the procession. Among them was Toyaraj Nepal, Baba’s friend. Slogans were being chanted.

JayaNepal and Bir BP Amar Rahun! I don’t remember other words now.

Even after a quarter of the century of his passing away, BP’s political clout is skyhigh. None has even come to the fore to challenge his persona. His party, his disciples and his kith and kin all are cashing on BP’s name. But not all of them have abided by the principles he had put forward.

He had political vision. He was farsighted. Even now his doctrines are equally applicable to today’s Nepal. However, except lip service, the Nepali Congress has not walked in the path BP had shown. If his party in reality had followed the BP doctrine, the country would excel in democratic practices.


I read BP when I was in school. Not as the part of the curriculum, though. I was interested in literature, and his works along with others’ were stashed away in Baba’s bookshelf. I read him before I understood what the heck sex and psychology are.
You can say that I got matured along with lit vintage BP.

I really adore BP as a writer. He is a great analyst of people’s mind. Despite some flaws in lingual usage, BP is superb at his works.

He was a socialist. He was a thinker. He was a politician. BP was a multidimensional personality.


Well, I should not forget Bishweshwor Prasad Koirala regarding my name Keshav Prasad Koirala.

I have been christened with some other name which too begins with the letter K. For general use, I was named Keshav.

Officially I was Keshav Koirala till  Grade IV. That time I  participated in the Intra- school essay competition. The occasion was none other than the silver jubilee of my school The Himalaya Vidya Mandir. I stood first. From the dais, Tirtharaj Adhikari, the Nepali teacher who was also the MC, called me for accepting the prize as Keshav Prasad Koirala.

Then after I have been Keshav Prasad Koirala, officially. (But my pen name is Keshav P Koirala when I write in English.)

My attachment to BP might have some role for accepting the long name—Keshav Prasad. However, I’ve never liked being called as KP.



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