No LAWS, Only LOVE!

I am not writing this piece because I have to, or I must or I need to score some brownie points. I don't! The person I am about to talk about and my relation to her is such that no matter how sincere my feelings most of you are bound to doubt it. And read it with a pinch of salt!

But that's where I would beg you to do so differently. You would do me a huge favour if you did not look for intended meanings, tried to read between the lines. Or think that this piece is a mere tool to have an impression solidified. It's none of that.

Today I wish to talk about my mother in law. Mine was an arranged marriage and like the protocol demanded I was to meet the mother before the son. Well! It was supposed to be a meeting where she was coming to see if I would make a good match for her son! And such real incidents are often if not always marred with reel life telecasted tales.

At least to be in all fairness there is always this fear of suddenly being in the company of a woman,(your potential MIL) with a placid face, horrid expressions and who has come prepared to give you tests of fire, where one must prove ones worth so as to deserve the sweetest fruit -her son!!!
Uff the nautanki! I love it. And i would have loved it even more if it were the case with me. The story of my life in that case would have been different.

But to cut the long story short I must confess, I was not given a chance to glare or gloat. This woman who arrived that evening to see me walked in with a million dollar smile. A sort of smile that was assuringly warm. There was no fuss, no drama and most of all no test from her side. She and I talked loudly,And laughed even louder. My mum meanwhile pinched me trying to remind me that I wasn't meeting an old friend nor was I in the middle of my mad parties! I have to add, that for those brief moments I would go quiet, or try and talk soft, but this woman who I was so utterly enjoying would have no such elements as demure and docile ruining the natural tempo of the evening. She would always rescue me and I would then find myself being grateful to her. I liked the fact that she wanted to know the real me! And was not sticking to some age old rule book of how to go bahu hunting! And if you think, I am making up about the book on bahus, then partly you could be right, but mostly it is true. At least I have been told that there has to be one which is reffered quite extensively these days!Anyhow, excuse my digression.

Thanks to this lady I would find my way back to my original pitch and aakaash tod hansee ( laughter that would break the sky) .
Honestly, I forgot why I was there and most importantly why she was there. It was fun from the start till the very end. Basically that evening was nothing that I or anyone could have dreamt of. Our match was made in heaven. :)

Now, I call this woman Ma. Soon it will be a year since I got married. And a little less since I moved to UK. Things have changed in my life faster than any formula one car! I knew they would, but never imagined the extent of it. There are good days, and then there are some lonesome days where I find myself missing my work, my friends and Delhi. There are days when the darkness from the outside finds its way inside my house and my heart. There are days when I feel like running back home.

But then there is also the time when we drive from Sheffield to Darlington to be with ma and papa. And then there is the time when she opens the door and hugs you tight. It's her way of saying,' I have squeezed all sadness out of you now what's left is only happiness.' Being around her means being happy. I really don't think you can come across her and not feel loved.

I love my parents. God knows I love Amma and Pa! A child can never say that enough. I miss them like I have never missed them before. But when I am with ma, I know I am loved with the same intensity, the same heart as Amma and Pa.

My ma ( here I must add papa) spoil me rotten with million gifts for occasions created at the spur of the moment. And that's something they needs to stop doing! I honestly am running out of space.
Ma loves to feed me to the extent that I literally have to run from her sight. She will not let me move a finger except when I am eating! The truth is My ma is not my mother-in-law! Actually I can't bear to use that word for her!

I also know that we live in the era of saas -bahu serials, and a piece like this will lead to all kinds of assumptions and speculations. And it's funny, in the sense that most people would have put their money on the fact that I would be the last person writing something like this. Well! Here I am not only writing it, but meaning every bit of it! Thank you MA for being my mother and most importantyl my friend!

P.S( First and foremost, papa I love you lotssss. :). And secondly, Yash if you think I said yes to you I would say think again;))
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you!

Divya Jha
25th December, 2011.

We the People: Which way will you swing?

The last couple of months have seen some big news and even bigger headlines. From Anna's Lokpal Bill to Rahul Ghandhi vs Mayawati to the riots in London to an angry/exasperated Vijay Mallaya doing what he hates the most, talking to the media about not abandoning his baby Kingfisher and not ever having asked the government for a bailout!

While the big guns continue to grab the hot seat and become even bigger, let's spare a thought to the one day headliners. Leave the Anna's, the Gandhi's and the Mallaya's to hog the limelight. Trust me; they do it well and that too in a very nonchalant way. They can very well do without the common man, contrary to what they want you to believe.

Let's for a moment look within the common man club, I know the first thought in mind is, that's hardly a club and if so, the membership hardly any matter of prestige. But look closely and you will see your real/everyday heroes. Actually, the reason why you and I aren't looking is exactly because they don't want to be portrayed as heroes or something spectacular. They do their duty as a citizen and as a human and then merely fade away in the same common man circle. To them it's no big deal!

Take for example, the two men from Bombay who came to the defence of a few women who were being harassed outside a club in Bandra. Keenan Santos and Ruben Fernandes, these boys  did what they thought was right. Standing up and helping complete strangers because that's what we as children are taught. Yes there were many others present there and yes it happened in India's most progressive and westernised cities. But it takes real men to stand up to defend a woman's honour. And these boys were just that. Neither of them would have consciously thought about being a hero or being dead. It was their reflex action. Like when one puts one's finger on a hot plate one immediately springs it back. Not much thought process is involved there. Isn't it?

The same went for Keenan and Santos. Their actions were just as straight forward. Now many of us, without spine would call it foolish! Yes those of you can very well return to the Anna's and Gandhi's. Feel intellectual in knowing what's happening and discussing how corruption is a bad thing. And how it's someone else's dirty job to fix everything that is going wrong.

Because what some of us won't ever realise is that a change begins single handedly. It takes one to stand and one to make a noise.

Which brings me to my another member of the common man club, Catholic nun Valsa John (52), who was involved in a movement against displacement of tribal people by coal mining companies in Jharkhand, and was shot dead early on Wednesday. The murder happened at Bachuwari village of Pakur district. Reports said a gang of about 50 people surrounded her house. The assailants singled out Valsa and attacked her with weapons in her room killing her on the spot.

A woman, a nun and she single handedly stood up to various threats. Her family members are reported saying that she had been threatened on various accounts. But she would not budge. Is that another act of foolishness or merely living a life of doing what's right?

Do these people who make one day headlines really put all that thought into what makes for a great visual drama and rehearse their scripts so that they can be portrayed as heroes? I don't think so.

The moment they take the plunge they are in it 100 per cent. They know their reasons are right, their intent is right and the rest they leave it to god. (Although this does not show the dear almighty in a great light!), but then again more than god the blame looms large on you and I- the bystanders who are capable of turning anything into a saas bahu serial, just about anything for a visual treat or instant salacious pleasure no matter how morbid the situation and how catastrophic the result.

We like to think that as a society and civilization we are moving forward. We like to tell our children that equality shall prevail if we put our faith in it. That inherently people are good and if you do well to others it too shall come back to you.

Honestly, the world that we live in today we don't want any good coming our way. Because we can't be too bothered doing any good either. So while we are ready to miss school/college/ work and sit with a candle, go on marches, we are not ready to act when the opportunity actually knocks on our heads.  At that point we let two boys go alone in a fight and die, a nun to take on a mafia and be brutally killed. We like nothing better than standing tall at the post of a bystander. And 'making a difference' philosophy is then royally kicked in its arse.

Before the riots occurred in London, a peaceful march was organized by the locals to protest the police response to the fatal shooting of Mark Duggan by Metropolitan Police Service firearms officers. But as soon as the scenario changed into a violent one it turned into a riot. These riots were characterised by rampant looting and arson attacks of unprecedented levels. People who had nothing to do with the case or even participated in the initial peace march saw it as a perfect opportunity to do an early Christmas shopping. Teenagers, men and women saw it as a convenient way to instant material gratification.  A perfect example of the participation and unity of the masses without any invitation, ironic but true.

I have never doubted the power of the mob! In fact it can never be undermined. But the pertinent question to be posed at this juncture is that what we use that power for?

When I look at these incidents, the obvious dichotomy instantly hits me. The people are the same everywhere, the longitude and the latitude does not lend them any great or base powers. It ultimately comes down to what we make out of the situation in hand.

Rather than being exploited at the hands of those who want to make the headlines all day, everyday, rather than being convinced that the force of the common man needs a face which has to be shown on repeat telecasts all day, for weeks and for months, we must now look within ourselves. We must be aware of the real commoners amongst ourselves who not only carry great potential but will not want anything in return. It is not about the Anna's or the Gandhi's. It is about the nameless, faceless heroes who do so much more but yet are unsung. And probably their charm and power lies in just one headline!

It's time for all of us no matter where on the globe we are to make a noise and believe that with us shall be brought a new era of revolution and we most definitely do not need a candle for that. All you require is a conscience. Give it a jolt and you will be amazed to learn that it's still somewhere hanging in there.

P.S (A role of a bystander never really allows anyone to have a complete experience of the scene at hand. The only way to ensure complete entertainment is to be in it first hand; hopefully with a conscience I will see you on the right side.)

Divya Jha.

17th Nov, 2011.

Hai Mera India.

Now that washing, cleaning and cooking and not to forget making list of channels (approximately 175 of them) that we are paying for and cannot watch on our new dish TV is done, I am sitting at our work station and thinking about Mera Bharat! Yes! Mahaan too!



Am I feeling patriotic? Not really. But I do love my country and my home! (I should make that clear before people slam me with being a firang now that I happen to be in a firangiland!)



Anyhow, the reason I was thinking of my country is because of this man called Jason! Poor Jason is not even an Indian, he doesn't even know me yet, and yet the man reminds me of home where getting things done is as easy as snapping ones fingers.



Well! Our dear friend Jason happens to be a handyman who is supposed to come and make me new shelves, closet and hangers so that clothes, crystals and crockery can breathe and not die of suffocation. But as life here would have it, probably getting an appointment with David Cameron is easier than having Jason over to get the work done.

When I first arrived in Sheffield I hoped that settling in depended on me and of course my family here, who have been more than great! I have received nothing but love and more love. And that is one of the main reasons why I just fit in so beautifully. Thank you Ma and Papa! Really mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Incidentally apart from family I forgot about perfect strangers, people who were supposed to make my settling in a bit more comfy and organised. I expected this bunch of strangers to appear quickly, take instructions from me, get the work going and last but not the least finish their work in my house and disappear with equal speed. Alas! Life had other plans. And I missed my trip to the beach or I am perfectly confident that I would have landed myself in possession of a magic lamp which I would rub to my heart's content and have my wishes done!!!

Now this is where I am forced to think of Delhi and Patna. Two cities where I have lived most my life, I never once felt the need of a walk on the beach or a magic lamp! Dilli Mein Yamuna hai, also know as Jamuna Par which by the way is capable of killing you because of its stench even before you have paared (crossed) it. And Bechari Ganga Ji is not the like her old illustrious self nowadays. Dried up and still with dirty corners feels confused if it still holds the same importance in her devotee’s hearts. This digression was necessary to explain why the idea of a sea side never hit my head!



Anyhow, coming back to the issue at hand, if it were Delhi, Sanjeet, my man Friday would have used all the tactics to bring a man and get the work done. He would have cajoled, crooned and caught hold of the plumber, electrician, or the carpenter in this case and seen to it that the work was done.

Now the scenario changes a bit more to my liking when I think of Patna. To get work done at home, there was no need to cajole, croon or plead! The carpenter or the 'badhai mistry' would be summoned by Pa's gunman. The man would come running at the speed of light, finish the job in hours, bend in complete obedience and tremble till he got a nod of satisfaction from me. Oh! And in case I did not like something he would work all evening to get it right! I know! Sounds atrociously feudal on my behalf, but don't worry my part of hell is under construction by god's own angelic carpenters! I hope they get it right the first time. But coming back to the mortal, trembling carpenters of Patna for now, they are made to give you super service at super fast rate. And I loved it. Made me feel like the lord of some manor! Not that I don’t feel like the Queen of Rockingham Lane already. But my paradise awaits the presence of superior beings, for example, The Handyman!



 The truth of the matter is that the tables have turned and surprisingly I feel more like human and that too a very ordinary one! Thus I shiver to call Jason a mere mortal! His availability is as rare as the gods themselves. Apparently when Yash first called him, that was about three weeks ago, he was told that we will have to wait for a couple of weeks since he was occupied with some contracts. I have been waiting and the ‘couple of weeks’ are soon turning into a month and yet there is no sign of his divine presence! Wait! When and if we do hear from him, we have to make sure he gets to work immediately, minus phrases like, 'perhaps this would look nice' or 'what do you think will look better?' because his per day wages are good enough to make a sane man delirious!

I am not even thinking of the electrician and other help for the moment. Justin is a handful and has my undivided attention for now and most times till he does what he is supposed to do.



I am a religious woman apart from many other things. And just like I pray for family and friends and their wellbeing everyday, I pray for Justin, a man who will one day fix my house. Till the time god shows up in the face of Justin I am honing my other godly virtues, that being faith and patience!



P.S.( Thank you Sanjeet, Tiwar Jee and Mishra Jee for keeping the Jasons out of my life till now.)



Divya J Thakur.

23.06.2011

From a daughter to her Father!

A new chapter has begun and I am not yet turning pages ahead. I am still going back to the old passage, trying to look for new meanings. I have wondered enough about the future. About what is right and what is not. And now I am merely a spectator watching over the rights and wrongs. Life teaches you to love and then it also teaches you to leave. Both are done with equal competence. We call it adjustment. And we don’t prepare for it like any other test of our life. We are just thrown into the pit and we have to learn to survive.

For most of my life I have been running to seek substitutes. My love has found one man, and since the time I knew that man and his love, I have been busy finding a substitute for him. Not because his love wasn’t enough. On the contrary his love is sufficient for this and many other lifetimes to come. But because, the fear of losing him hangs around my neck like an albatross and hence I look for something that might fill the void that he would leave behind.

I am an ordinary girl who thinks that superheroes are not real. But dads are. And my dad is my hero. Not knowing when that consciousness dawned upon me, but I knew he is special. Thousands of miles away I can hear the laughter in his voice; I can see the twinkle in his eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. We are growing old. We have shared a lifetime together and yet there seem so much more to be shared. I am not scared of the distance. I am petrified of time. It ticks away slowly. And I cannot make it still. It’s a futile war and I hate being on the losing side.  

My father means the world to me. And I am not the first daughter to say so! Although I secretly wish, I was the first one to love him the way I do. My lessons in life have come to me by watching him. He is not a preacher but a man of actions. His optimism would put gods to shame and his anger kids to bed! (I can vouch for that!)

I remember writing an essay on my father for the school magazine. It was an instant hit. My teachers and friends went moist in their eyes. Everyone appreciated the sentiment and the writing. My father said, ‘Write shorter sentences, it will help you make fewer mistakes.’ And then he smiled. The smile I knew well. He was happy and sad. That was the first time; I was leaving home for college.

One thing led to another. I finished college and got myself a job. Jumped through various profiles and then one day decided in the favour of a sabbatical. I was once again living as his daughter, writing C/O MK Jha on my forms. It was a happy reunion with my long forgotten past.

The two years spent with him before I tied the knot made us closer than ever. Our arguments were unstoppable but our love like always had no stopping. To this date he remains a man of mystery to me. We still have the longest discussions on phone and not when we are present in front of each other. Poetry and literature is his weakness and his legacy to me. That’s one thing that exclusively comes to me. I am proud and grateful for this gift.

Now that father’s day approaches some might say I am getting sentimental and mushy. But the truth of the matter is that pa is in my heart 24*7. We are physically distant but in love we are together, in verse and poetry we meet, in between the lines we fight and in rhymes we make up. I have a father who grows young with every written word. How on earth is a substitute possible for him? He is my muse for now and for ever. And when I sit down to write it is his faith that shines the most.

I am my Father’s daughter for now and forever.

Happy Father’s day pa!

Love miloo.