Women play important roles in the lives of their husbands. In this column, I allude to the rare tales of remarkable women who reveal some unexplored aspects of literary writers and the influence these women had in their lives. This is evident from the stories of the wives of writers like Leo Tolstoy, PB Shelley, Laxmi Prasad Devkota and others mentioned in this article. Besides the women whose interviews are available, I would like to mention the roles of three notable women: Mandakini, Balakrishna Sama’s wife; Sushila Koirala, BP Koirala’s wife; and Manu Kumari Thapa, Lain Singh Bangdel’s wife.

Creating Sushila Koirala’s character in my play Sandajuko Mahabharat (2015) was challenging. BP extensively mentioned her in his autobiographical writings. I briefly spoke with Sushilaji about Sama’s play, Ma, which she had directed and performed in Biratnagar in 1951, for which she is called the first Nepali woman director of a play. Sama clearly mentions Mandakini and her impact on his life. Her portraits, which he executed, can be seen in his house. Poet Kedar Man Vyathit once told me the Sama couple looked like a pair of doves. I know Manu didi’s impact on Bangdelji very well and have also written about her.

This theme of women’s contribution has struck me for a few reasons. First, I met these women through my relationship with the writers. Second, I met some of them while Bindu Subedi, the story writer and editor of the Nepali section of the English-Nepali quarterly magazine Across, conducted their recorded interviews. She published the interviews of the wives of eight writers and poets under a telling and critical title, “These forgotten wives—birsieka shrimatiharu—of the late literary writers”, in two issues of the magazine. These interviews unfold the tales of the women who played significant roles in the lives of their writer husbands.

It was a great privilege for me to attend some of these interviews. It gave me a chance to understand the power of these women and the ethics and challenges of the times they closely experienced. I was overwhelmed to hear how their influence on their husbands helped create the celebrated literary works. I especially recall meeting Mana Devi Devkota, wife of the eminent poet Laxmi Prasad Devkota, and Mishri Devi Shrestha, wife of poet Siddhicharan Shrestha. The other women interviewed in Across (February-April 1999) are Jyotsna Vyathit, poet Kedar Man Vyathit’s wife, and the wife of writer Keshav Raj Pindali.

Ratna Lamichhane and Subarnaa Lamichhane, the wives of Shankar Lamichhane; Shova Aryal, wife of Bhairab Aryal; and Kanti Sherchan, wife of Bhupi Sherchan, are interviewed in another issue of the magazine (August-October 2001). Last year, I had the privilege of meeting Kantiji at the launch of the book Bhupi: A Daughter’s Memoir by Kavita Sherchan, Bhupi’s daughter. Only two remarkable women, Subarnaa Lamichhane and Kanti Sherchan, are alive today.

Ratna and Subarnaa fondly speak about Lamichhane from individual perspectives, and their interviews show compassion. Ratna was deeply familiar with Shankar’s writings and his problems. Shova Aryal makes an interesting observation about her husband, Bhairav Aryal, who was famous for satire and humour in his writings. She says, “Gautama Buddha had left home leaving his wife Yashodhara and son Rahul behind, but our humour writer chose to die by leaving six children from the age of thirteen to two and a half, and a wife in the lurch.” In her interview, Kanti Sherchan praised Bhupi’s humanism, his sense of freedom and dedication to his work. These women’s stories about the condition of the writers’ angst, their inspirations and the times they fought with are rare studies for critics and researchers.

The interviewer, Bindu Subedi, has written the following about the qualities and the enduring passion and compassion of the wives of the writers. These women, who bore the children and brought them up, fought minuscule battles in each case, sometimes too hard. They dealt with their husbands’ moods, hid their pain behind smiles, supported them through their most difficult phases of life and preserved their writings. Some of them even established awards in their husbands’ names, stayed beside them when they were ill and served and helped them. However, the writers have not written much in acknowledgement of the sacrifice of their wives.

There are some exceptions, though. Siddhicharan Shrestha has written a poem about Mishridevi, and Vyathit often mentions Jyotsna’s name in his poems. Lain Singh Bangdel’s gratitude towards Manu is seen throughout his works. But literary critics do not mention these women’s contributions in their critical writings. When they do, they distort. The interviewer claims that this becomes clear after listening to these women.

Mana Devi Devkota, who was 87 at the time of the interview in 2001, looked bright, confident and ready to share how she had been a good companion to her husband, Laxmi Prasad Devkota. I also went to see her then; I did not talk much with her except to express my pleasure to have met her. Devkota’s life was full of events and stories about writing. His lifestyle and writing habits are also interesting. Devkota, the editor of Yugvani, which was supposed to be an anti-Rana publication, went to Banaras with the anti-Rana rebels, whom Mana Devi Devkota referred to as ‘congress’. Mana Devi recounts a rare story to Bindu Subedi about how she went to Banaras to rescue the poet and safely brought him home. She faced several difficulties, and the ‘congress party’ people didn’t cooperate, as they were unhappy with her for taking Devkota back home. In addition to experiencing financial challenges in bringing him back and continuing their life, she also had to face the wrath of the Rana regime.

These women have inspired their husbands at all the important moments. The structuralism of these women’s help is based on the male-centric praxis. The commonality between all these women is that they helped their husbands by being with them during their difficult and happy moments. Being physically present by listening to their writings and perennially inspiring them during hard times is obviously a daunting task.