Himalayan Quest

22-Deja Vu

Sunday, May 13

22-Deja Vu

The editor of Nepal's most prominent newspaper, the Sun, had been in his office on Friday when he got the news. The king's return from Europe was deemed so important that once again his travels would become a national holiday. The monarch declared Nepal should celebrate his return.

Hada Bhopal looked at the pictures on the wall. His family photo showed him standing with his wife and three children. There were other framed shots of Hada with his parents, a sister, and two brothers. There were none with famous people, other than his publisher, Ram. He wasn't interested in making impressions on anyone other than his family. It was a gallery designed to remind him what was important to Hada, which was his own flesh and blood.

His window gave him a clear view of the dozens of citizens walking below. He knew what he had to do for all of them.

True to form, he wrote another editorial proclaiming that making something as mundane as the travels of Nepal's ruler into a national holiday was ludicrous. That was yesterday's edition. Today, he was back in jail.

What was the joke from that American athlete, Yogi Berra? "This is like deja vu all over again!"

Hada looked around. Being back in the identical prison cell as last week seemed appropriate. He was again incarcerated without a cellmate. But there were the same guards on duty as before, one of whom escorted Hada down the hallway.

"Namaste. We have kept your room ready for you."

"How very kind. But it appears to have improved in appearance since last time. Have you done some painting and decorating on my behalf?"

The guard laughed. He liked the sarcastic editor, but could not show favoritism in his actions. "No, but we did not change anything for the worse, either."

Hada smiled.

"We tried to put other prisoners in with you, but there is only one bed, and none of the cockroaches volunteered to join you."

"Well," said Hada. "At least you gave them a choice. Very democratic of you. Perhaps I can get acquainted with them at mealtime and convince them to move in with me?"

The guard grinned. "We will see if any of them change their minds and decide to join you. Don't want our newspaper editor getting lonely." He waved as he departed.

Hada watched him leave, steeling himself for this time of stoicism. Then he smiled with a new thought.

Although our king isn't as interested in democracy as I am, perhaps he can learn from the plentiful insects here. That would be an amusing editorial, but even I am wise enough to refrain from going that far publicly. Fun to think about, though.

It would be a couple of days before his namesake, the newspaper's owner and publisher, Ram Bhopal, could bail him out. The king wanted to make sure that Hada learned his lesson. Well, at least he'd ensure Hada would remember it.

What a waste of time and energy. If the king would only pay as much attention to the welfare of his people as he does to his own ego, Nepal would be so much better off.

Hada thought about what would be his next few newspaper articles. The king wouldn't travel again for a while, so he had to look for other sources of news commentary. He had heard a delicious rumor about Nara, the king's brother. Something about drug use, more than just taking headache medication. It didn't seem possible. But he had heard mention of it from more than one source, albeit nothing that was confirmed. But was it true?

Have to do some quality research to verify the story. But wouldn't that be a news coup?

He sat down on the bare steel cot, the uncomfortable rectangle that served as his bed. He might as well lie on the cement floor. Hada wouldn't get much sleep tonight, but what little he got would be conscience-free.

He thought about his editorial yesterday. There was no immediate response, other than giving Hada a ride to the prison. Maybe it wouldn't change the king's decisions in the near future, but if it got some of his fellow Nepali citizens to question the artificial holiday, it was worthwhile.

He had done the right thing and would do so again in the years to come. Even if it meant that he would continue to experience deja vu.

Prison. My second home. At least for now.

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