e may have attained a certain celebrity status in the past year and become a household name, but Mr Regression is a hard man to pin down. Perennially media-shy, he prefers to keep a low profile, and is only seen in effigy these days being chased by paparazzi all over Ratna Park. In this rare and candid interview, an Effigy of Regression gives us unique insight into his hopes and aspirations, and the deep-seated grudge he harbours against mass-producers of effigies who have of late started using substandard fire-retardant material.

Q: Mr Refugee.
A: (Grufly) I'm an Effigy, not a Refugee.

Q: Whatever. Mr Effigy, sir, let me begin by asking you.
A: You don't happen to have a light, do you?

Q: You mean you smoke?
A: All the time.

Q: Isn't that, like, dangerous in your line of work?
A: I know I'm playing with fire, but what would you do in my place? It's a stressful job.

Q: Um.
A: Here is a country going down the tubes, but there are still thousands of tyres waiting to be immolated, and there is a huge backlog of us effigies. When are we going to give everyone a chance? Isn't this a social volcano?

Q: Wait a minute. I'm the one supposed to ask questions around here.
A: Then do it, I have a cremation to attend, an illegal torch rally at three o'clock and tomorrow they are burning me at the stake.

Q: (Shuffles through notes) Yes, how does being an Effigy of Regression compare with, say, being an Effigy of Vajpayee?
A: It's got a lot to do with how well you get into the persona of the part you are playing. As an Effigy of Regression, I try to immerse myself totally in my role and, once I get into character then I really feel like I have regressed in a major way. You get the feeling nothing anyone says will affect the way you make decisions, and you just do it.
With Vajpayee, I have only played that part once, and I must say it didn't carry the same oomph. I have met some effigy colleagues from India who regularly play Vajpayee, and there it seems to be much more fun because the straw is drier, and kerosene is not adulterated.

Q: You have been playing increasingly demanding roles of late, what would you say is your greatest dramatic challenge?
A: I'd say without hesitation, it is playing the role of Regression on a rainy winter afternoon while a fire truck approaches you menacingly. You have to take versatility to the extreme, reinvent yourself all the time, and keep everyone guessing about your next move.

Q: Thank you, Mr Regression, for your time and let me on behalf of the Nepali people wish you best of luck in your future career.