KATHMANDU, Feb 21: Revolutions often write history in bold letters — but in quiet homes, they leave behind silence. In the name of political movements, countless dreams were extinguished and countless mothers were left with empty arms. For them, the “war” never ended. It lingers — in memory, in denial, in hope.
Capturing this haunting reality, the musical short film Balidan has been released, offering a deeply emotional portrait of a mother trapped between illusion and loss.
Written, directed, composed, and sung by Ratan Devkota, the project is more than a song — it is a lament. The lyrics, penned by renowned poet Arjun Parajuli, carry a heartfelt appeal that the blood of martyrs must not be forgotten — by the nation, or by history.
At the heart of the video is veteran actress Sarita Giri, delivering a performance that quietly devastates. She plays a mother who refuses to accept her son’s death. In her world, he did not go to join a political movement — he simply went to school, carrying his bag. She waits for his exams to end. She marks days on the wall with charcoal. She believes he will return.
Devkota in 2019
One of the most striking scenes unfolds when she hears her son whisper “Mother…” in a dream. Startled awake, she rushes out with his shirt and a lantern, embracing a scarecrow in the field as though it were her child. The image is painfully symbolic. When she touches the blood-stained hole in the shirt, grief floods the screen — without a single line of dialogue.
“This is not just a song,” says Devkota. “It is the story of a wound conflict left behind — one that never truly heals.” The film delicately portrays the clash between a mother’s fragile hope and the brutal finality of reality.
Cinematography by Saroj Kumar Chauhan and editing by Prabin Bhatt amplify the emotional depth. The storytelling relies on visual language, allowing silence to speak louder than words.
Music arrangement and production are handled by Romi Basnet, with mixing and mastering by Kobid Bajra. Senior creator Dhirendra Premaharshe supervised the music.
The closing frame leaves a lasting imprint: a green sprout emerging from the wound in the scarecrow’s chest — a quiet reminder that while bodies may fall, ideas and dreams endure.
In Nepal’s musical landscape, works this layered and reflective remain rare.
Watch the full video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pDHxY_bwHE&list=RD1pDHxY_bwHE&start_radio=1
