When you meet the parents of Captain Davinder Singh Jass, of the elite 1 Parachute Regiment (Special Forces), who gave his life fighting terrorists in Sopore, Jammu & Kashmir, on February 23, 2010, you know the spirit of generosity and compassion that was the hallmark of their son lives on in their daily existence. Captain Jass’ mother Dalbir Kaur says her day is not complete if she doesn’t talk about him, remember his many good qualities. “We have so much to learn from him,” she says.
Captain Davinder, fondly addressed as Jass, was conferred the Kirti Chakra posthumously. The monetary dues that came from the Army have been put into a memorial trust that has been contributing to activities like education, welfare of the girl child, and, closer to home, sports awards for children in their housing society.
Davinder was a boy of uncommon politeness, say his parents. They never knew him to retaliate with a harsh or impatient word even to a prolonged nagging or scolding that parents are sometimes prone to. He was content to wear his father’s shirts even when they were too baggy for him, never seemed interested in material possessions, and never took back money lent, they say, and his friends from engineering college and the Indian Military Academy testify to these qualities. But the boy never known to harm a soul died after a nightlong battle during which he killed five terrorists.
His story somehow reminds us of Noor Inayat Khan, daughter of Sufi teacher Hazrat Inayat Khan. During the Second World War, she and her brother, it is said, decided they had to contribute to the Allied war effort, because their refraining, on the basis of their non-violent beliefs, would amount to abetting of injustice and being partners in the killing of millions of innocent. Noor eventually became a secret agent of Britain’s Special Operation’s Executive and was sent to France to help in the Resistance. Code-named Madeleine, the woman who could not lie became one of the most resilient spies of the period. Caught after immense difficulty after being betrayed to Hitler’s forces, she was executed, not having even revealed her real name to her tormentors who tried to torture information out of her. The biographies of people like Noor and Captain Davinder reiterate that one’s personality and upbringing play a pivotal role, wherever life may take us.
In the five years since Davinder’s death months short of his 26th birthday, say his parents, the Army has never let them feel alone. “The people from his regiment keep in touch with us,” says his father Bhupinder Singh Jass. “Recently when I had an angioplasty done, his CO came, and earlier also the former CO. His unit colleagues also keep coming. On their Raising Day, they invite us every year to Nahan (Himachal Pradesh) where they have their headquarters, to spend some days. They stay in touch with everyone, also the other two men who were martyred in the same operation as Davinder.”
It has often been discussed whether it is fair that our soldiers, whose primary duty is to protect the country from external aggression, have to fight terrorism, a war governed by no rules or treaties. “But if the Army doesn’t take on the terrorists, who will? The police is corrupt,” reasons Bhupinder Jass. More than this aspect, what they object to is the seeming lack of political will. “This fight is on two fronts, the military and the political front. Ultimately it is a democracy.” However, politicians work only towards getting their convicted protégées released, rather than repairing the schisms in society, he feels. Meanwhile, “For terrorists the target is easy, they kill and they die. But not for the forces. In Davinder’s case also, the instructions were that no civilians should be killed.”
Demands for withdrawal of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, they feel, are unfair. “Those who misuse it should be punished. Why withdraw the act,” asks his mother.
Davinder’s colleagues, say the parents, treat them like their own parents. Many of these young men are now married and have children, they mention. “They look us up, call to ask if we need anything, bring their wives to stay with us. Because of these children, we are able to pass the days,” says Dalbir Kaur, utterly dignified in her grief. After the news about the death of Colonel M.N. Rai was announced, she was upset the whole day. “It always takes you back to your own pain,” she remarks.
Unexpectedly, Davinder’s friend landed up at their door, with his wife and child, cheering them up. The mother feels her intense thoughts of her son drew his friend to comfort her.
So friends, family and the Army continue to stand by them. But what about the larger role of society? Soon after the captain laid down his life, a road was named after him in Indirapuram, the Delhi-NCR neighbourhood where they live. Outside their housing society is a gateway or ‘dwar’ also, with his picture and name. MLA Amarpal Sharma was extremely helpful in getting the dwar made, they note, adding that Sharma was not a sitting MLA at the time. The road naming was spearheaded by the Trans Hindon residents’ association. However, the local and Uttar Pradesh State Government have been conspicuously absent from these gestures of homage or support.
Immediately after the tragedy, when media and well wishers were swarming the house, they say, a politician they don’t wish to name, paying a condolence call, asked, “What happened here?”
Also, says, Bhupinder Jass, “The amount that is supposed to come from the state government is still pending. There is a rule that when the Kirti Chakra is conferred the state gives something, and I am told it is a significant amount. Two-three times the DM’s office has asked us for the papers. But nothing has been forthcoming.”
His wife adds, “We are well settled and not in need of the money, but what about those who need it?”
Near the plaque with Davinder’s name on it, she says, “We planted saplings but they did not survive. This is really the job of the horticulture department.” She quotes the father of Kargil martyr Captain Batra (Param Vir Chakra) who said during his walks around the neighbourhood, he personally removes the advertising posters people regularly paste on the plaque in his son’s name. “While we are here, we will continue to look after (the memorials),” says Dalbir Kaur. “But then?”
Her question points to a general apathy. Though in their immediate vicinity, they have received support, Davinder’s parents understand that India itself has changed and blame no one. On the whole, like Captain Davinder, they exude positivity. Their motto, so to speak, is that we attract those with values we believe in.
“It is the people who make up the government, the people who make up a society,” says Bhupinder Jass. “People are aiming only for money and becoming selfish.” Only when people realise their oneness with the neighbour, a oneness with the man on the other side, he feels, will society be healthy. “People say, oh this is their personal matter,” he says. “We copy the West in these things. But there the sytems are strong, provided by the state. We are not in such a position. And we are all divided by caste and creed as well. After independence, instead of creating a good and strong society, we have actually damaged it. In the U.S. if a soldier is killed, the president will say, today we have lost a soldier, but here, they are not concerned.”
He feels joining the National Cadet Corps should be compulsory in schools to introduce youngsters to solid values. And military service should be compulsory for all at some period in life. “The politicians, those running the government, they don’t have children serving in the armed forces. How will they ever understand the conditions in which they live and work? “
