Singer Ganga Bardaan is a man of more than just a few eccentricities. In the middle of a conversation, he suddenly remembers a certain song, looks for affirmation from his possible audience, clears his throat and then bellows out the notes. The song tells the story of one the numerous cities and villages he has travelled on foot, and the tales of chhyang and tongba written there. In the late 80s, Bardaan embarked on a solo Mechi to Mahakali tour, during which he claims he keenly looked at every other tree along the way. ‘Nature is the primary source of my inspiration,’ says the singer of classics such as Simsim Pani Kanchhi Nani, Eh Kaale, and Kaha ma Katyo. After a long hiatus (the last time he released an album was in 1998), Bardaan, who splits his time between Dharan and Kathmandu, is currently 

working on new material and plans to release a new album by the end of this year. The Post’s Anup Ojha and Timothy Aryal sat down with Bardaan at his home, a sparsely furnished room in Naxal, to talk about his passion for music and travelling and how nature inspires his work. Excerpts

Tell us about your beginnings. Were you born into music? 

I was born and raised in the rural village in Bhojpur. Back then, the only means of entertainment we had was the radio. One could listen to music only on rare occasions.  I spent a lot of time in the jungle, grazing goats and fetching fodder for them. I was enamoured by nature. From a very early age, nature inspired tunes in me that I hummed to myself. 

Later, after completing SLC in 2031, I and some friends began to experiment with music. I formed a band called Imagination Group, with four friends—Subarna Limbu, Dev Rana, Dambar Rai, and Pemba Lepcha, who were all born in the UK, and naturally more inclined towards English songs. But I kept writing in Nepali as well. Not long after we began to play as a group, we recorded our first single, Chhapani le Chhanchhan. The song became more popular than we had initially imagined. There was no looking back after that.

Back then, your music was limited only to the eastern region. How did you break into the national music scene?

After playing with the band for some time, I thought I would go to Kathmandu to further expand my career. Here, I sang this number called Kaha ma Katyo, which aired on Radio Nepal. We even produced a music video with Young Asia for the song Aamako Kokhma during Nepal Television’s early days. The video was one of the first to broadcast on TV here. After some time, I started travelling across the country and writing songs about the places I visited. If you listen to my songs like Bazaare Bharula Dharane, Itahari Chowk Sathi, Machhapuchhre ko Shira, Buldi Seti Madi, Hetaunda Feri Bhetaunla, Mahendra ko Nagara—you’ll find that my muse is the places that I visit. 

Most of your songs embody the colloquial language popular in the day. And your songs seem to have these typical Nepali words popular in the east. How do you go about writing lyrics? 

After a few musical stints in the Capital, I turned into something of a vagabond. I realised that I wanted to travel. I travelled all across Nepal, from Mechi to Mahakali, browsing every tree along the way. This wandering only strengthened my already strong affinity with the nature. No matter what place I visited, it always made an impact on me; it immediately became my muse and inspired words that eventually turned into music. I have never tried too hard to write a song. Once a place plays on the strings of my heart, I get the words down on the paper, and hum them until the mumble evolves into a melody. That’s pretty much how I create. 

But not all spontaneity is inherently creative. What then differentiates random creative spurts from good songs? 

Three things: one, purity in the conscience and clarity in your thoughts; the ability to translate your thoughts into words; and originality in the melody. 

Most of your songs are cult classics and people who may not know you still know your songs. Last year you burst into the limelight again after a supposed musical controversy involving Bipul Chettri, although you did perform with him 

recently. What are your take on the issue? 

I recorded my first album with Ranjana Casette Centre, and I have never received a penny from them as royalty. I have neither expected nor demanded it. As far as piracy and copyright issues are concerned, I really don’t care. I was happy when Bipul Chhetri sang a rendition of one of my songs. When someone—a popular artist in this case—sings a song that I first sang, I take it as an honour.

If it is not about money or the fame, why do you sing? 

When I started out, I sang out of passion. Making songs and singing was my favourite thing to do and a pass time. The pleasure I get out of it is incomparable.  Later, when people began recognising my songs and they began to admire my work, I felt indebted to them and continued with on. We are all born with different gifts, music was mine. 

What are you up to these days? Any new projects in the pipeline? 

I am planning on a sort of a comeback. I am currently working with a band, and for the new album, I will be using some of my new and old songs. Hopefully, we can release it by the end of this year. There are some concerts being plan as well. 

What are thoughts on the Nepali music today? And what is your message for young musicians? 

Looking at the music scene today, I see a lot of wonderfully talented artists. But I suspect that we are trying too hard to shape our music in a way that mimics western sensibilities. While I am not against employing elements from the western musical culture, I believe we should not forget our roots, our ‘Nepalipan’. Other than that, it sure is an exciting time to be creating and listening to music here in Nepal.