The India BlogThe India Blog is about the socio-political-economic landscape of the country, its cultural moorings and the challenges it faces – whatever affects the lives and future of the people living within its boundaries and beyond.
"Didi, we came to work at 5:30 am this morning. The stars were still twinkling. We felt scared walking down the street. And we'll need to come even earlier tomorrow." Naively, I asked why. "Its the day after Diwali and there will be so much work. You know, my father doesn't sleep at all. He wakes up at 3 amtakes a bath does his puja and then sets out to work."
That's how my Diwali day began.with this conversation with my maid's daughter. Mother-daughter duo finished working, took their Diwali bakshish with folded hands and a smile and moved on to their next stop. A house in Chilla gaon. I didn't have the heart to ask when their Diwali would start. And deep in my heart, I knew it would be over even before it began.
In the evening we went down to burst crackers. My daughter was all excited. My husband lit the first one and then threw it on to the lawn. I cringed. I said don't throw it there. He asked why. Well, I mumbledbecause it's more difficult to clean. Then it was my daughter's turn. Beta, please throw the burnt crackers in this corner. She gave me a puzzled look. What's got into Ma? Why must she nag even on Diwali?
Well Beta, because if there's one thing that the Citizen Journalist show has taught me, it is to break on through to the other side.
The hallmark of guerrilla warfare is the element of surprise and to be always one step ahead of the