Nasty
Chief Cook & Bottle Wash
- Joined
- Nov 11, 2003
- Messages
- 5,924
My response...
Ahh...the M43. A fine choice Sir...fine choice.
Much sought after and very rare at one time. It was hand forged from a piece of 5160 truck spring that had bounced around Asia only to finally end up in a junkyard in Nepal.
The steel is introduced to the kami in the dirt on the ground inside a small dark cinderblock building over natural coals. A small child would have gone to the forest to gather the coal, then carried it back and built the fire. The child would have stayed there all day, pumping a manual bellows as the steel got hotter over time, eventually getting to a plastic state. Once there, as judged by the eye of the (oficially) *Royal Kami to the King of Nepal* (yes...seriously...the now disposed but newly returned sovereign King!), Lal Bura.
Bura has served as all Kami do...simple labor as a child...carrying water, bringing food, sweeping and searching the forest for coals. Over a period of 20 years, he gained knowledge and skills working his lifelong apprentiship under older Masters. After 35 years of smithing *anything* of iron and steel, he holds the plastic ingot, twisting and turning and guiding as a younger kami apprentice swings the big hammer. Bura reaches into the cycle of heat and hammer, using his smaller forging hammer occasionally to make minor adjustments, setting angles, touching folds and breathing his life and spirit into the blade.
Finally, as it approaches the final point, he plunges it into the water to lock it's form forever.
He then takes it and examines it for flaws...searching...knowing that even he can make mistakes. Satisfied, he reintroduces this new thing, no longer the steel it once was, to the fire yet again.
He guides and directs as the fire is tested again...this time though, he watches the colors change as the steel responds to his touch.
Through several shades, the steel speaks to him...telling Bura it's secrets.
When the steel finally says to him "Now, Master Bura..Now!", Bura pulls it from the fire and pours hot water from the much abused and repaired tea kettle along the length and breadth of the blade.
The water dances, the steam rises, the steel screams to Bura...he is it's Master...it obeys him...it hardens along it's length, but remains yeilding in it's core. This simple steel has been reborn...once only yielding and weary from age, it is reborn hard, strong, young once again...reincarnation as a Khukuri.
There is more...a handle is fitted using another khukuri...almost an apprentiship of it's own...one more mature khukuri guiding the newborn in shaping the familar flared pommel and rings...turning an impossibly shaped knife into a tool...a weapon...a daily companion awaiting only an opportunity to serve.
A home is prepared for the khukuri in a leather covered wooden scabbard. Since no two khukuri are the same, each scabbard is individually crafted to fit that khukuri...no other will fit. The spirit of fidelity is thus bonded into the parts of the whole.
Finally, the khukuri is blessed with sacrificial blood. The blessing is sincere...they give thanks for the world they know, the steel they are blessed with and the customers they labor for.
Himalayan Import Khukuri find their owners we have been told...we have many stories of how this has been shown to us. They often go through a couple of people on their journey. This one too will find it's way.
They are not mere knives, nor are they the result of sweat labor...profits from these blades go to some of the poorest people on the planet. The Khukuri provide for food, shelter, education, medical care and...hope.
Ahh...the M43. A fine choice Sir...fine choice.
Much sought after and very rare at one time. It was hand forged from a piece of 5160 truck spring that had bounced around Asia only to finally end up in a junkyard in Nepal.
The steel is introduced to the kami in the dirt on the ground inside a small dark cinderblock building over natural coals. A small child would have gone to the forest to gather the coal, then carried it back and built the fire. The child would have stayed there all day, pumping a manual bellows as the steel got hotter over time, eventually getting to a plastic state. Once there, as judged by the eye of the (oficially) *Royal Kami to the King of Nepal* (yes...seriously...the now disposed but newly returned sovereign King!), Lal Bura.
Bura has served as all Kami do...simple labor as a child...carrying water, bringing food, sweeping and searching the forest for coals. Over a period of 20 years, he gained knowledge and skills working his lifelong apprentiship under older Masters. After 35 years of smithing *anything* of iron and steel, he holds the plastic ingot, twisting and turning and guiding as a younger kami apprentice swings the big hammer. Bura reaches into the cycle of heat and hammer, using his smaller forging hammer occasionally to make minor adjustments, setting angles, touching folds and breathing his life and spirit into the blade.
Finally, as it approaches the final point, he plunges it into the water to lock it's form forever.
He then takes it and examines it for flaws...searching...knowing that even he can make mistakes. Satisfied, he reintroduces this new thing, no longer the steel it once was, to the fire yet again.
He guides and directs as the fire is tested again...this time though, he watches the colors change as the steel responds to his touch.
Through several shades, the steel speaks to him...telling Bura it's secrets.
When the steel finally says to him "Now, Master Bura..Now!", Bura pulls it from the fire and pours hot water from the much abused and repaired tea kettle along the length and breadth of the blade.
The water dances, the steam rises, the steel screams to Bura...he is it's Master...it obeys him...it hardens along it's length, but remains yeilding in it's core. This simple steel has been reborn...once only yielding and weary from age, it is reborn hard, strong, young once again...reincarnation as a Khukuri.
There is more...a handle is fitted using another khukuri...almost an apprentiship of it's own...one more mature khukuri guiding the newborn in shaping the familar flared pommel and rings...turning an impossibly shaped knife into a tool...a weapon...a daily companion awaiting only an opportunity to serve.
A home is prepared for the khukuri in a leather covered wooden scabbard. Since no two khukuri are the same, each scabbard is individually crafted to fit that khukuri...no other will fit. The spirit of fidelity is thus bonded into the parts of the whole.
Finally, the khukuri is blessed with sacrificial blood. The blessing is sincere...they give thanks for the world they know, the steel they are blessed with and the customers they labor for.
Himalayan Import Khukuri find their owners we have been told...we have many stories of how this has been shown to us. They often go through a couple of people on their journey. This one too will find it's way.
They are not mere knives, nor are they the result of sweat labor...profits from these blades go to some of the poorest people on the planet. The Khukuri provide for food, shelter, education, medical care and...hope.
