Pawan Kumar Jha Writer

Call it my all-time favourite lullaby, or childhood ignorance of the wisdom of the words (when granny preached me the devoutness of simplicity in her usual expansive definition), my recent encounter with a rather scornful, unintended and possibly unprecedented event factored in me the generation of somewhat new-fangled ideology in a definition bearing close proximity to brute versus civility or brawn versus brawl kind of occurrence. I was raised in a family with impressively well-off atavistic personality legacy. My great-grandpa was a landlord of more than 1000 acres of land parcels in those eras where landlord system prevailed in the then British-ruled India. Even today, my personal assets combined by the ancestral properties amount to incalculable assets, post distribution into great-grandpa’s three sons, and thence to my father and his two kin brothers. Genetically, I carry an air of steely personality verisimilitude of my grandfather’s, an ancestral leg