On Bir Bahadur Biswokarma, a visually impaired musician who has spent a life sailing by ear
- Sugam Deshar
Bir Bahadur plays at the concert in Patan. Photos: Merit Maharjan.
"Yo pani bhavi le lekheko chha tyo pani bhavi le lekheko chha bhavi le lekheko metdaina tala tala nepal ma jada daju bhai nepala jane bato mapani khane padhero sangai ko sathi bhai sansarai ghumda malai chha diusai andhero malai chha diusai andheroEverythingis written by fateAnd fate cannot be erased.On the road down to Nepal, O Brother,So many sights to seeBut when I travel this world, my friendIt’s all just darkness to me"— Bir Bahadur Bishwokarma
Apr 8, 2017- As Bir Bahadur Biswokarma begins strumming the Tungna, anticipation among those who have gathered begins to peak.
We are sat at the courtyard of the Patan Museum where an album launch for the folk ensemble Kutumba has been transformed into a giant, public busk. As a travelling minstrel (gaine) who makes a living out of busking at bustops and chautaris of towns along the Kodari Highway, Biswokarma is used to the attention the Tungna attracts. But even he has never had an audience this big. Then as he begins to sing “Kangla ko bato” in his uniquely rustic voice, the donations begin to pour in.
Patan has a long history of being generous to its artists, and it doesn’t look like it will disappoint us tonight.
When I found Bir Bahadur Biswokarma on YouTube, under labels like “A blind man singing,” or “A beggar plays the Tungna,” I had reached a dead-end of sorts. As a student of Ethnomusicology—which studies music through cultural and anthropological lenses—I had scoured what little literature is available on the Tungna, but had been left with more questions than answers. Even then, all roads seemed to eventually lead to Biswokarma, who had found small-time fame on the internet through mobile phone videos uploaded by curious travellers, arrested as much by his blindness as his music.
- Sugam Deshar
Bir Bahadur plays at the concert in Patan. Photos: Merit Maharjan.
"Yo pani bhavi le lekheko chha tyo pani bhavi le lekheko chha bhavi le lekheko metdaina tala tala nepal ma jada daju bhai nepala jane bato mapani khane padhero sangai ko sathi bhai sansarai ghumda malai chha diusai andhero malai chha diusai andheroEverythingis written by fateAnd fate cannot be erased.On the road down to Nepal, O Brother,So many sights to seeBut when I travel this world, my friendIt’s all just darkness to me"— Bir Bahadur Bishwokarma
Apr 8, 2017- As Bir Bahadur Biswokarma begins strumming the Tungna, anticipation among those who have gathered begins to peak.
We are sat at the courtyard of the Patan Museum where an album launch for the folk ensemble Kutumba has been transformed into a giant, public busk. As a travelling minstrel (gaine) who makes a living out of busking at bustops and chautaris of towns along the Kodari Highway, Biswokarma is used to the attention the Tungna attracts. But even he has never had an audience this big. Then as he begins to sing “Kangla ko bato” in his uniquely rustic voice, the donations begin to pour in.
Patan has a long history of being generous to its artists, and it doesn’t look like it will disappoint us tonight.
When I found Bir Bahadur Biswokarma on YouTube, under labels like “A blind man singing,” or “A beggar plays the Tungna,” I had reached a dead-end of sorts. As a student of Ethnomusicology—which studies music through cultural and anthropological lenses—I had scoured what little literature is available on the Tungna, but had been left with more questions than answers. Even then, all roads seemed to eventually lead to Biswokarma, who had found small-time fame on the internet through mobile phone videos uploaded by curious travellers, arrested as much by his blindness as his music.
