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They called him mad. They called him a scapegoat. They said it was irrational to go on a hunger strike when there was a people-elected government. He had learnt his lesson; he did not want to be fooled again. He was a pro­tagonist, a nonconformist, and a headstrong doctor to bring reforms in the medical sector—which is why he earned different names and received unlikely comments. Former Prime Minister and chair of the party that led the 10-year-armed struggle, Prachanda, said Dr KC’s work was to just be on hunger strikes. He, who had chosen the armed battle, did not realize that Dr KC was on a mission just like him. But he chose to carry arms and take lives while Dr KC hurt himself to save the lives of others.

He suggested that Dr KC had been used as a scapegoat by Nepali Con­gress, unfortunately forgetting that in the armed struggle he led, thou­sands of people were forced to give up their lives and families, for the cause he thought was right. Did Prachanda or anyone involved in the armed struggle or KP Oli for that matter—who said the protests were done at leisure times—evert go on a hunger strike of this intensity?

Those who said there were legal ways to address the problem forgot that the Second People’s Movement that made Nepal a republic was also against the then constitution. Still people came together, irrespective of their differing political ideologies. Much the same way, people came out on streets to support Dr KC. This comparison was hardly made. It was forgotten that doctors had revolted then as well, although halting medical services isn’t right either. However, supporting Dr KC were not just fellow doctors but people from all walks of life, making it a people’s movement.

Social media was abuzz with hashtags like #IamwithDrKC, #saveDrKC, #BackOffMedicalEdu­cationBill, #saveIOM; about a dozen Facebook pages like Solidarity for Prof Govinda KC (followed by more than 30k people), Save IOM, Save Dr Govinda KC (17k followers); and online petitions. Protests were spontaneous and took place in all major cities. Surely not liking these movements, the government gave directives to use force and medical officers were beaten in Karnali while several others from different fields were injured or arrested in Kath­mandu. These made national and international headlines.

The protesters, just like in 2006, dreamt of a better Nepal—this time through reforms in medical edu­cation and health care that would bring cheap and reliable health­care to all Nepalis. After pressure mounted on the government, it had to address the demands.

Apart from restricting new pri­vate medical colleges in Kathmandu for 10 years, the nine-point agree­ment will allow talented students to become doctors. Mammoth fees still make it a distant dream for them. Those who study with full scholarship will need to serve in rural areas. This could mean that the remotest parts of the country, which often do not have doctors, would get medical facilities. If all the province had at least one good medical college, as has been agreed, there wouldn’t be the need to spend extra money to avail the services in Kathmandu. One man’s peaceful madness could bring better days for the entire nation.

“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find your office.” We have all heard this excuse. And how can we argue with this? With no street signs, no house numbers, and many offices not having prom­inent signboards it can be a frus­trating job either finding the place we want to go to or trying to explain to someone how to find our office or home. Having spent 15 minutes last month looking for an office, I was confident this time round that I knew exactly where it was. Only to be taken aback to find out they had moved to a new location. Yes, they sent a map but has anyone else noticed Google seems to have made up the names, and often the location, of streets in Kath­mandu? And damn, these maps make it look easy with their clean, crisp lines indicating roads. What is missing is the street vendors blocking entrances, new construc­tion spilling onto the roads, and dead ends that do not appear on the maps.

This makes it impossible to count… is it the first or second turn off after the mandir? Not to worry, you have the phone number right? You can phone for directions right? Well then it starts to get interesting. First of all you need to explain where you cur­rently are. Errr, what is the name of the mandir? And how do you pronounce it anyway? Then you need to interpret what consti­tutes a ‘small’ road to the person on the other end of the phone. Do they mean this British sized B road, or do they mean that gullie over there?

So you ask the standard question, “left or right”? Now various sites on the internet put the number of the global population who cannot tell left from right at 20 percent. But if I think how many people I ask, how many taxi drivers I tell, on a weekly basis, this figure is surely much higher for Nepal. It seems more like one in two people I ask or tell directions to cannot tell the difference between right and left. And it’s not just a language thing; I can ask in Nepali too, to no avail. Eventually finding the cor­rect road, why do offices not have prominent signboards? Don’t they want business?

When the shoe is on the oth­er foot and people are trying to find my house, I despair. These are computer literate friends, who want me to send a map of my location and a snap shot does not satisfy them. Aside from me being technology challenged, we are then back to relying on those maps which show only certain roads, and tiny shops you never knew existed on your street.

I find it easier just to tell them “follow the river, turn right at the first driveable bridge, walk for 100m.” You would think those are easy directions to fol­low—but no, seemingly not. Quot­ing non-scientific figures again, I can say 90 percent of foreign friends can find me by this meth­od. Only around 5 percent of Nepalis achieve this. When I am told some workman (usually the internet provider) will need to come over, I shudder.

I need to give a day when I know I have a lot of free time to go hunting in the neighborhood for the guy who is well and tru­ly lost. I never order food from Foodmandu. I saw a Foodmandu delivery man waiting for a pick up recently and asked him, hopefully, if they had an app to find locations. No. But the first time I placed an order and the delivery man finds me (right!) he would tell all his fellow delivery men so that in the future they could easily locate me. Big pinch of salt. Better have some tequila with that salt as cer­tainly dinner ain’t arriving any time soon!

Action/Thriller

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: FALLOUT

CAST: Tom Cruise, Henry Cavill, Rebecca Ferguson, Simon Pegg, Sean Harris

DIRECTION: Christopher McQuarrie

4 and a half stars

Hollywood action movies are like fast food, something you consume not for its health benefits but to appease your taste buds. Tom Cruise knows this better. With his hallmark character Ethan Hunt, the 56-year-old international action star has kept it real in serving up his more than 22-year-old tent-pole franchise ‘Mission Impossible’ that has upped the bar for action genre, a genre which has otherwise been completely dominated by superhero movies. The series was adapted from a 60s TV show featuring secret US agents working for a fictional intelligence agency named the Impossible Mis­sion Force (IMF) that deploys them in high-stakes missions to save the world. Cruise’s version kicked off in 1996 and the latest installment ‘Fallout’ is the sixth outing of super-agent Ethan Hunt. It’s surreal to see a series outdoing itself with each new sequel.

Both Hunt and the franchise have done the impossible and improved in tone and approach over these years. Hunt has grown from a boyish daredevil to an emotionally mature one. And the series, as it is handed from one ace director to another, has been able to stay rel­evant to new generation of action fans with its original and grand action set pieces.

The new mission pits Hunt and his team against a terrorist group known as the Apostles. This group is made up of the remaining members of the anarchist organization called the Syndicate that Hunt’s team suc­cessfully infiltrated, capturing its leader Solomon Lane (Sean Harris) in the previous film ‘Rogue Nation’. This time Hunt is after the leader of the Apostles, someone named John Lark, who wants to get his hands on three plutonium spheres to equip nuclear weapons that will wipe out one third of world population and create a new order.

On Hunt’s side are Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg) and Luther Stick­ell (Ving Rhames) and a new CIA operative August Walker (Henry Cavill), who is there to track Hunt’s each and every move and report it back to his superior. Then there’s ex-British secret agent Isla Faust (Rebecca Ferguson), who criss­crosses Hunt’s plan to recover the plutonium spheres.

‘Mission Impossible’ is known for its breathtaking action sequences. Hunt sparring with villains on the roof of a speeding bullet train, Hunt sprinting in the narrow alleys of Shanghai or Hunt dangling from Burj Khalifa. Even when these sin­gularly spectacular action moments from the past films are fresh in our minds, ‘Fallout’ never plays the safe game and gives the audiences what they want: a high-stakes plot pep­pered with edge-of-your-seat action.

The real charm of ‘Fallout’ is Tom Cruise giving his everything to make Ethan Hunt an empathetic action hero. With so much climbing, jump­ing and diving that Cruise does in his action avatars, clocking at least one action film a year, he plays Hunt with remarkable energy as if the film’s frantic pace flows from his character’s bloodstream. Writer/director Christopher McQuarrie throws Cruise in one dangerous situation after another, giving him little breathing space. If it wasn’t for Cruise’s unwavering dedication, the action pieces would’ve fallen flat.

But ‘Fallout’ isn’t all about stunts and Ethan Hunt leaping from every­thing and everywhere. McQuarrie is thoughtful in using the story and characters to drive the big stunts. His screenplay explores the inner dynamics of Hunt’s friendship with teammates Benji and Luther, chips in a romantic thread between Hunt and Faust, and wonderfully plays with Hunt’s conflicted loyalty with his own government.

So McQuarrie punches in a dra­matically charged script with his technically brilliant filmmaking. ‘Fallout’ may or may not be the final film of this exceptional series, but it is by far the most enjoyable and best adventure of Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt.

If there is one thing that distin­guishes our leaders from the leaders of other countries, it has to be their total disregard of the public and public opinion. Even in the people’s democratic dictatorship of China, the lead­ers have realized that it is in the interest of the communist party to first gauge public opinion; and only then only decide on what needs to be done. This explains the immense public support for one-party dictatorship there. But in our democracy it seems that our opinions, hopes and aspi­rations do not matter at all. We were told that when democracy came to the country we would all become citizens from serfs. Per­haps millions participated in one after another revolution against the feudal system, but here we are, still serfs. Our misfortune is that all our revolutions have been in vain. All we did was replace one dictatorship with another.Now we have something worse than a dictatorship. At least in dic­tatorships these days the dictators try to address public concerns and take on development activ­ities to quieten the opposition, and they are concerned about their image in and outside their countries. But in our system, just because the leaders were voted by us—yes, the silly us—to power, they seem to believe that the fin­est trait of leadership is to appear oblivious to people’s sufferings and their valid concerns. The fact that they are elected seems to give them immense power to do what they wish and to blatantly violate the laws of the land. And we feel helpless instead of empowered, unlike what we were promised by those inciting us to revolt time and again.

The second important trait dis­played by our leaders is blaming past governments for all the prob­lems in order to silence critics. Five months may not be a long time, but it is still enough to make people feel something good is happening. But nothing of the kind has happened. No wonder the collective mood of the “sov­ereign citizens” of Nepal is that of despair, and we have been in despair for the past 50 years. We haven’t been blessed with a sin­gle, thoughtful leader since the demise of King Mahendra.

While many of our analysts and the members of the self-pro­claimed civil society have criti­cized the way the government has been dealing with Dr Govinda KC and the use of force against unarmed protestors in Jumla and Kathmandu, no one dared to speak against the system that allows a handful to do what they want and however they want. Because the ones screaming their lungs out in Kathmandu against the heavy-handedness of the pres­ent government were also those who hoodwinked us into believ­ing that with “this” revolution, with this leadership, all would be honky dory. We listen to them enthusiastically but none dares ask these dollar activists: why did you support the same leadership when it was in the opposition? Thus aren’t you too responsible for the present mess? So much for the impartial and “thoughtful” civil society!

The ones who claim that KP Oli is displaying the signs of a dicta­tor know it well that Oli is doing exactly what the previous govern­ments were doing for the past 50 years. Going by what’s happening now, it will continue to be so for the next 50 years.

It is useless to dwell into what happened and how we can change for the better. To add to our misfortune, there is no one nor an institution we can look up to. Nepal is not going to change, as is evident from the fact that all those delivering inspiring speech­es have already sent or are in the process of sending their off-springs abroad. Something has gone terribly awry with this land. We don’t know what exactly. But how come that in a country of 30 million we don’t have 30 real nationalist leaders?

We can be certain of one thing though: there will be many more revolutions promising to empow­er us and we will enthusiastical­ly participate in those, but they won’t change a thing. We will continue to be serfs, unhappy with our lords but too weak to do anything about it.