BIRGANJ - The connectivity of NTC is no match for the speed and spread of the Nepali bush telegraph. We may not have the power to roam, but none can deny us the privilege of rumour mongering. Because of its location, one of Birganj's main businesses is unauthorised trade. But when it comes to transmitting juicy political titbits, Maisthan Chowk is no less alive than Kathmandu's Pipal Bot.

The rumour that the king granted audience to Badri Mandal, Badri Basnet and Asharfi Shah, among others, at the Nagarjun Royal Retreat had already set tongues wagging here long before Kathmandu heard about it. The guessing game of the moment is not the future of the Maoist-government talks, but the future of Surya Bahadur Thapa government itself.

Maoist sympathisers believe that Thapa will be relieved any day now, but even local RPP stalwarts do not give him more than two months. However, everybody agrees on the day on which the deed will be done: it will be a Friday, King Gyanendra's favourite day for major decisions of state.

The astounding thing about Parsa is that the king seems to have become unusually unpopular in this traditionally royalist stronghold. Birganj has always remained loyal to the royal family, even when waves of anti-monarchist feelings swept the tarai in the run up to the 1980 Referendum and the 1990 People's Movement. But after October Fourth, there has been a steady erosion of confidence about the king's intentions. Agitating political parties may not be winning their war of words with the palace, but the king isn't making much headway either.

When free medicines were distributed here recently to combat a malaria epidemic, many people suffered side-effects. Rumours spread quickly that the government was deliberately trying to harm the people, and it got so serious that the health campaign had to be abandoned. There is a growing crisis of confidence out there, and the government is doing very little to address it.

The Maoists don't seem to have gained either from the infighting between the palace and the parties. If anything, their stock has gone down several notches ever since they spread their extortion racket. Perhaps this is one of the reasons behind the hardening of Maoist stand: they may be contemplating a fresh round of conflict to regain their revolutionary credentials.

However the comrades may try to explain it, collecting forced 'donations' even from petty shopkeepers and officials has turned a large section of the population against them. Very often they end up paying under duress, but refuse to respect their tormentors. They haven't realised that terrorising the population doesn't win friends and influence people.

The hushed tones while complaining about the excesses of the Maoists is now gone. People deride the insurgents publicly, and without bothering to lower their voice. The other day, an unidentified shopper in Adarsha Nagar was heard comparing Maoists to Panchayat vigilantes. "Mandales terrorised political activists with khukuris, the Maoists do the same thing with pipe bombs," he said loudly. But both have the same effect: muzzling democracy.

A combination of restive populace in the villages, impatient middle class in the urban areas, and alert security forces everywhere else seems to be driving Maoists to desperation. But the geo-political reality is not very conducive to war by proxy from across the border. It seems that the Maoist leadership badly needs an honourable exit. Unfortunately, the government doesn't seem to be in any mood to offer them that opportunity.

Perhaps there are elements in the Royal Nepal Army that are itching for a fresh round of fighting to salvage their reputation, and there are enough hotheads among Maoist commanders who fancy themselves as latter-day Viet Congs determined to give the Americans a bloody nose in Nepal.

On the face of it, the war of letters between Baburam Bhattarai and Kamal Thapa is symptomatic of the deep fissures within. Either these threats could degenerate into deeds, or the posturing may be a precursor to bargaining.

A fresh rumour whirls into the pan shops below Ghanta Ghar here: the Parsa MP has convinced the king about the merits of reinstatement of the parliament. And, did you hear, it was the king who called on Kishunji and not the other way round. Since Bhattarai has just been to New Delhi, his stock in the political market is suddenly higher than his namesake.

The clock on Birganj's Ghanta Ghar stopped ticking months ago, yet the space below is being used by parties for their relay hunger strike in 40 degree heat. But even here there was a perceptible flurry as news spreads of Kishunji's meeting with the king.

The overwhelming public opinion is for peace, for reconciliation between the king and the parties, and impatience with the lack of progress on both fronts. And if there is no progress, people always blame the person who has taken charge. Everyone must win, otherwise everyone will lose.