"Hey buwaa," I said. "The khukuri that was used yesterday to slaughter the goat. Whose khukuri was that?" I was referring to the long, thick blade that Birendra used for butchering.
He smiled. "Ours," he said. "Why?"
I told him I wanted to take a picture.
"Oh, you want to know about it? Well..." he said...
and my lesson on the khukuri began.
***
The khukuri is a traditional Nepali blade (some may call it a sword, a shortsword, and others a knife). Though it has many uses the sword is most famous as the weapon of choice - and emblem - of the Gorkhas* - Nepali soldiers conscripted into the British and Indian armies. The history of the Gorkhas began in 1815 when they were recruited into the British East India Company following the Anglo-Nepalese War.** They are renowned worldwide to this day for their valor, fearlessness, and ferocity in battle.
"Did you see the khukuri at our
Pokhara house?" buwaa asked me. "It's in the big
display case." He was referring to a scabbarded khukuri and
pedestal on which it sat in the family's other house in the big city. I
recalled seeing it in the past and recognized the installation as a sort of
military plaque at the time - but had never taken a close look at it.
A small, sheathed khukuri - for show only. Blades like these are used for dances, parades, and showcasing.
You see, buwaa is a retired Indian army
veteran. He served, like many other Nepali, in its Gorkha battalion. His
military career lasted about 28 years. Eight years ago he retired from the army
and settled back in Nepal, though he still remains a soldier at heart despite
the growing distance between then and now.
***
I was squatting on the porch one afternoon, down on one knee, my binoculars trained on a bird perched on a nearby wire. "You remind me of my army days," said buwaa, who was sitting on our porch armchair. "Ask me why. Go on," he
said. He walked over, laughing. "We used to have to sit like that
while we were on duty -- watching and hiding, like this, right?" He
squatted next to me and demonstrated. "And if someone came along we had to
pay attention: to what they were wearing, what they had on them, if they had
guns, how many people there were, where they were, and where they were
going," he explained. "Like if we're here, and they are there"
-- crouching on the red clay of the veranda, he drew lines in the dried mud with
his finger, lining out the trajectories -- "we had to relay the location,
distance and direction to our supervisors."
We have moments like these all the time. It is apparent to me how proud he is of his identity as a soldier, a Gorkha, a Nepali. His sense of honor, duty, and right and wrong is very strong - this runs in the family. When he talks about his army days he emanates a wistfulness that may only match that of his childhood memories (when he recalls them). There are many stories to tell. But his time in the army was also extremely difficult; brutal; painful; and sometimes painfully boring. Buwaa is ever a practical man, honest, open, and difficult to shy. But I have yet to ask him for any of his more harrowing stories. I wonder if I ever will.
***
Buwaa explained the use of the swords as a soldier. "We had to wear our swords at all times on our belt,
like this," he said, patting his hip to indicate it hanging down
from a belt. "And these ones, like I said --" he took the small knife
in his hand "-- are just for show. For display only. But we used them as
part of our Gorkha dance." His eyes lit up. "Shall I show you how it went?"
Buwaa stepped back from the porch and onto the
mud-and-stone-leveled patio. "Here, I'll show you a little bit." Thus
followed a series of dance steps - whirling, brandishing, stomping, and
slashing. Proud, disciplined, confident. I could imagine him in line with
dozens of other foot soldiers in uniform, their movements in sync, the rapping
of their feet echoing in formation. A formidable sight it must have been. After
a couple minutes of this buwaa stopped, winded, to catch his
breath. "You really sweat a lot," he said. "I can't remember the
whole thing anymore."
Of course, khukuri are most famous for
their use in battle. But they are an extremely versatile tool that can be
used for a variety of utilities:
"You see this?" Buwaa pointed to a notch on one of the large blades a few inches above the hilt. He then pointed to identical notches on the other khukuri he had brought out to show me. Beside the notch a U-shape was carved out of the metal. "These notches - what do you think they are for?"
I suggested it could be for hanging the blade. For example, hanging it on a wall by a nail. "That is true," he said. "We would sometimes hang our blades on the wall, you can hang them by these notches." He paused. "But what it is really meant for is wicking blood."
"As you are fighting, and cutting things, and blood is
running down the blade, it runs down your hands and arms," he explained.
"It gets all slippery and messy. But with this notch the blood drips off
the blade instead of getting on your hands." A delicate, but notable,
distinction - one that must make all the difference in battle.
These days the khukuri throws a lot of
weight around as a symbol of Nepal. You see its likeness on clothing,
stationary, and logos everywhere - sometimes in the form of two crossing
blades, other times with a crossed blade and its sheath.
Other types of blades certainly exist in Nepal - but none as charismatic as the khukuri. As buwaa and I were sitting together discussing swords, aamaa had been watching us with some interest and amusement. A few minutes later she sat down with another blade in her hand -- the dao. (This is an Indian blade originating from the ethnic Naga group, as buwaa enthusiastically explained).
"This was given to me by my older
brother," she said, hoisting the blade in her hands. As the story goes,
decades past she had needed a knife for household chores. He was in India at
the time serving in the Nagarian army, so he bought and sent one to her. Some
time later he faced an untimely death while he was in service. She held the
blade by the hilt quietly, turning and gazing at it in her hands - no doubt
thinking of that time.
*Not to be confused with the people who live in the Gorkha district of Nepal.
**The Gorkhas have a centuries-long military history that is fascinating -- I won't get into details here; though recent political developments have threatened their existence as a branch of the Indian Army.
***From this directory stumbled on of historic khukuri manufacture. Very cool.
Nepal is known for its abundant biodiversity*. For being a small country the size of 6 Rhode Islands it spans an elevation range of almost z...
