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When the first electric guitar was invented in the early 1930s, no one had an idea about the rev­olution it would herald in the field of music. From its hum­ble beginning as an ingenious contraption that used electro­magnetic induction to sense the vibration of strings and send signals to the amplifier to produce sound, the electric guitar has developed into an indispensable instrument for any kind of music, from blues to rock n’ roll to heavy metal and even world music. Hundreds of guitar compa­nies around the world now produce thousands of models of electric guitars and in this rather competitive market, a Nepali guitar brand is trying to create a name for itself—first in Nepal and then all over the world, the owners say.

Sahana Guitars, formed in 2012, is the brainchild of Sagun Bhattarai, a certified char­tered accountant who com­pleted his ACCA in the UK and brought back not only a CA degree but also guitar-making skills he acquired from Brit­ish luthiers. Bhattarai, a sci­ence student before he joined ACCA as well as a passion­ate guitarist, briefly worked as a Chartered Accountant in Nepal before deciding to switch career and do some­thing that really inspired him. But he had a difficult choice to make: should he make solar panels because load-shedding was at its height at the time or should he make guitars. He picked the latter, and with Apurwa Raymajhi, a tourism entrepreneur and a passion­ate musician as a partner, Sah­ana Guitars (Sanskrit word for music) was born.

“We’ve come a long way since we started,” says Ray­majhi, who also looks after Sahana’s only outlet at Star Mall, Putalisadak. “We spent almost four years in research and development and started selling only in 2015. We got good response from Nepali musicians from the start.” Raymajhi admits that Sahana Guitars is still in a learning phase but already its produc­tion models are at par with some of the best known guitar brands in the world.

“There are companies which have been manufac­turing guitars for decades and have spent millions on R&D but no one has been able to make the perfect guitar,” adds Raymajhi. “We are simi­larly upgrading our capacities according to our customers’ needs and hoping to manu­facture the best guitars for the local market.”

Right now it takes Sahana around 45-60 days to make a batch of 10 guitars. The guitar makers are planning to upgrade the machiner­ies and factory workflow to bring down the production time to 30 days. All the wood involved in crafting guitars are locally sourced. Sahana uses mahogany, ash, alder, rosewood and walnut to make different models of guitars. It is also researching a Nepali subspecies of maple, one of the most revered woods for guitar manufacturing. With young luthiers Shirsak Subedi and Apurva Chaudhary com­pleting its small team, Sahana also makes its own guitar pick­ups with materials outsourced from abroad along with other essential imported hardware.

Among the different mod­els Sahana produces, the ‘Nyauli’, ‘Who Chill,’ and the ‘Maha Chill’ are the most popular, Raymajhi informs. All of Sahana’s guitar models are named after indigenous birds of Nepal. “Birds are the symbols of freedom and we also wanted to promote the fact the Nepal is a home to a diverse species of birds.”

Apart from the regular production models, Sahana customizes guitars accord­ing to the buyers’ prefer­ence. Different colors, pickup combinations, personal­ized inlays can be selected to customize the available models. Also, Sahana builds fully customized guitars from scratch, with options in body shape, wood, neck, pickup and all accessories. Famous Nepali artists like Sunny Manandhar of Albatross, Satish Sthapit of Newaz, Sarad Shrestha of Tumbleweed and Jimi Blues of The Midnight Riders have ordered custom guitars from Sahana and rate the company highly.

“Pricewise, we are offering guitars starting at Rs 50,000, which would normally cost around $1,200 [over Rs 120,000] in the international market,” Raymajhi says. “That said, it is still expensive for a beginner and we are trying to further cut costs.” To do so Sahana plans to increase production in the near future. With interested customers contacting them from all over Nepal, India and even the US, mass production does not seem a distant prospect.

Space is launching its first album entitled ‘Eye/I’. Quite an unusual name, you may think, but then Space is an unusual band. Describing their genre as ‘rock’ or ‘post-rock’, their music ranges from the soothing, right through to the jarring in a style Mit­shushi Shahi, the vocalist, calls ‘screaming’. Featured on two numbers, Space and Abstrophone, Shahi brings a metal-like expression of frus­tration to the audience. In this way, the album will appeal to metal lovers and rock lovers, as well as those who like more poetic lyrics and gentler sounds. Their other vocalist, Nikita Shres­tha, has a strong and expres­sive range, particularly on her favourite track, I, which she describes as ‘soothing’. With the topic of hope, this track was about Shrestha’s own personal experiences and her struggle to overcome hardships. It should be noted that while the majority of the band members play in other bands, Shrestha performs solo at times and has been involved in such events as Sofar.

Space was formed in 2016 when friends came together through their love of music. The current line-up has changed a little from those days and now also includes Rabindra Maharjan on flute, Bikee Bajra on drums, and Ritavrat Joshi on bass.

Completing the line-up is Riken Maharjan and Rojib Shahi, both on guitar. The name—Space—came from an EP of the same name put together by Maharjan. The name remained but the genre changed from elec­tronic to its current rock/experimental style.

One friend missing from the line-up is someone who used to jam with the band before it took shape as Space. The track Abstrophone is ded­icated to his memory. The music had been composed at that time, but the lyrics have been specifically written to commemorate his short life and that friendship.

Talking about Space on his radio show, radio jockey Ray­mon Das Shrestha said “there is only one word to describe (Space)—amazing! I am ready to buy their album and put it on repeat mode. The new gen­eration is experimenting and coming up with new sounds.”

“We are so lucky to be able to launch our album at ‘25 Hours’ this week. This is a self-funded album so it means even more to us,” says Shahi. With Space’s new tracks and the other acts on the stage, namely, ASM, The Act and Kamero, can you afford to miss it?

Tickets are limited and only available at the following out­lets: Tone Music Store, Calm, Beers and Cheers, Planet Music and Namaste Coffee. Rs 400 or Rs 600 with Space’s new album. No door sales. Eye/I will also be available for sale on the night and as a download in the near future.

(Launch at 3:30 pm Satur­day, June 30 at 25 Hours Rock Nights, Tangalwood)

“I learned how to drive a tempo, a three-wheeler, after I took my SLC (national level exams at the end of Grade 10). I was really scared. I was also confused about turning the vehicle at the corners or bringing it to a stop. But I had to learn it anyhow,” recalls 28-year-old Sushma Dhimal, whom I met in front of the Kathmandu Mall as she was waiting for passengers.“Learning to drive a tempo took me two weeks. At first, I practiced driving one without passengers. It was really hard in the beginning. I bumped into random things. Once, the tempo flipped over and I got injured. Only then did I become a professional driver,” says a confi­dent-looking Sushma.

She’s been driving a tempo in the chaotic streets of Kathmandu for a year now. As a driver, she’s never felt offended or discriminated against. She lives in Sitapaila with her hus­band and two sons. They all support her. In fact it was her husband who encouraged her and taught her driv­ing. Other female drivers and traffic police also helped her in some diffi­cult situations. As a result, Sushma confidently drives a tempo seven days a week.

There was a time when she wanted to go abroad. For that, she needed skills. “But if I have a skill, why not do something in Nepal?” she rea­soned. “When I saw other female drivers, I felt a desire to become one. I failed my first driver’s license test. But I didn’t lose hope,” she muses. Sushma made another attempt and passed the test.

NOT AN EASY LIFE

Also waiting for passengers at another corner of the tempo stand was 32-year old Kumari Sarki. She’s been driving a three-wheeler for eight years. She started by driving somebody else’s tempo, but she didn’t like the deal and decided to buy her own vehicle. “I didn’t have enough money so I took out a bank loan to buy a tempo, which is my source of livelihood now,” she says.

Although Kumari earns enough, it’s far from an easy life. There are times when she doesn’t get enough passengers. Sometimes, the tempo stops working in the middle of a trip. She also gets into an accident once in a while. She takes on a serious look and says, “I haven’t been able to pay off my loan yet.”

Her day starts at 5 am every morn­ing. At noon, she takes a lunch break. Her daughter brings her food, which she eats in a hurry. Unlike most other professionals, she doesn’t take a day off. “Why do I need a day off? It’s my own tempo; I’d rather make some more money,” she says proudly. As soon as her vehicle is filled with pas­sengers, she starts the engine, honks and picks up speed.

POPULAR MISCONCEPTION

There soon arrives another tem­po packed with passengers in front of Kathmandu Mall. The driver is 30-year-old Pramila Bishankhe. She is wearing a mask, but her hair is covered in a layer of dust.

Pramila has a bachelor’s degree. She looks and talks smart. “People generally think of female tempo driv­ers as simple rustics. They also think my line of work does not befit col­lege-educated folks. That’s wrong; there should be dignity of labor,” she says.

Pramila has been married for six years. She started driving a tempo two years before that. She didn’t stop working even when she had an infant to take care of.

TOUGH BUT FUN

Bimala Gautam, 35, is a single mom. She has two kids. “I have to raise them the best I can. I need to give them the love of both a mother and a father,” says an emotional Bimala. She’s in her tempo near the New Road gate waiting for her turn. She has been driving a three-wheeler in Kathmandu for eight years.

It’s scorching hot at two in the afternoon. Bimala’s face is badly burnt by the heat. She looks exhaust­ed and parched, and asks some­one to get her a bottle of water. But “work is fun, I never feel lazy,”she says.

She came to the capital from Sind­huli nine years ago in order to give her children a good education. She has experienced a positive change in her life ever since she became a driver. “Now I don’t need anyone’s help to feed my family. Ultimately, it’s only our skills that support us,” says Bimala as a smile spreads across her weary face.

NOTHING VENTURED, NOTHING GAINED

Another female tempo driver I speak to is Juni Maya Nepali, who has already completed her 10th trip of the day and has made Rs 3,000, which is the amount she has to hand the vehicle-owner every day. What she makes in excess of Rs 3,000 is hers to keep.

She also gets a daily wage of Rs 350. Juni likes the deal, unlike many others who would rather drive their own vehicle. “If it’s my own vehicle, there will always be worry at the back of my mind that it will mal­function. I feel more at ease driv­ing someone else’s vehicle,” says Juni jovially.

She is 25, has completed Grade 12 and has been a tempo driver for a year. Earlier, she used to work in the garment industry. She also faced great difficulty learning to drive; so scared was she that for the first two months after she learned to drive, she didn’t ven­ture out the house. Finally she over­came her fear and started driving. “I’ve realized there is nothing you cannot do if you have courage,” Juni says.

BY SAPANA MAHARJAN

Born and brought up in Kathmandu, Brazesh Khanal wears many hats. As well-versed in penning newspaper columns as he is in acting or directing mov­ies, Brazesh, as he likes to be called, has also written two novels: ‘Yayawar’ and ‘Juneli’. All his works have been noted for their nuance. Biplob Pra­sai of APEX caught up with him recently.

Why do you refrain from using your family name?

I decided to avoid using my surname around 10-12 years ago. I think surnames and castes only divide people, so I just want to be known as Brazesh. I person­ally try not to use my sur­name in any medium I work with but people still tend to use it for me, which I can do nothing about.

What inspired you to take up writing initially?

My father was a renowned journalist and we had our own printing press and a weekly newspaper. I grew up being surrounded by pen and paper, so writing was the most natural thing to do. This in turn encouraged me to take up a career in literature later in my life.

When and how did writing, as a career, start for you?

My first article was pub­lished in “Gorkhapatra” when I was in the 8th grade. I don’t remem­ber what it was about but at that time, getting published in the only national daily of Nepal was a huge deal for me. It inspired me to write more. With this new-found con­fidence, I started contributing to my father’s newspaper. It slowly became my habit and later it turned into an addiction.

From a writer to an actor and then a script writer, how did the transition happen?

Growing up, I was involved in almost everything from writing to playing sports to participating in dramas at school functions. My involve­ment with theater at an early age nurtured my love for act­ing. After completing class 10, I got to play a part in the serial ‘Panchatantra’ which my father was directing for Nepal Television in the early years of the channel.

Then I began writing scripts for TV serials, after which I got offers from the film industry. It was also a period I took a break from literary writing. Acting is quite dif­ferent to writing but both are related to creativity and I have always been interested in anything that stimulates cre­ativity in me. Maybe that’s the reason I have ended up doing so many things.

What made you switch back to writing after being with the film industry for so many years?

I got so involved and busy with films that I never actually had a thought about writing for quite some time. But one fine morning I real­ized it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to do. Financially, I was satisfied with what I was earning, but I am someone who doesn’t get greedy once his basic needs are met. When a person real­izes he does not need to be confined by money, he is free to do a lot. So I got back to writing literature because it was where my heart belonged. I started writing articles and during that period I decided to write a novel. Everybody has a story to tell and I also had many. I wanted to put my stories before a larger audi­ence. Thus I started on my first novel.

Hope it doesn’t mean you have given up acting com­pletely.

No, not really. I do get approached for acting jobs occasionally. If I find some­thing that excites and chal­lenges me, I will for sure take up the project. Currently, there’s talks about adapting ‘Shirish ko Phool’ for a theat­rical production at Shilpi the­ater. If things go as planned, I will soon step back into my acting shoes.

So what are you currently involved in?

I’m writing a weekly humor column for an online news portal, which is going very well and people are enjoy­ing it. At the same time, I am writing a memoir on my three-decade-long experience in Nepali cinema. It will come out in a couple of months.