Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The villains and heroes around us

*continued..
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VILLAIN: This MLA is the REAL villain. But he is not a villain because he is an MLA. Dont get confused by (media-created) stereotypes. Open your eyes. He could very well be an Armani-clad, english (with french toppings!) speaking corporate mogul too. He comes in many forms, he changes faces, he very subtly disguises himself behind the various veils we naively provide to him.
They smile and smile and still be villain. - Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky)
The villain they show in the movies is unreal, a very simplified version of this real villain. This real villain is not loud and vulger. His looks are not abnormally made-up. You can hardly recognize him in a crowd. He is not even a one-man-army. He has, when he is alone, his limitations and his insecurities. This villain is rather a man of system; a part of a greater, much greater structure. He understands the system, respects it, submits to it and is happy with it. He very well understands the mechanism of power. He knows that power doesnt reside in an individual but in the network. This networks sustains him. This network protects him. And so he values his allies or contacts who are placed at (or are chosen from) the strategic positions. He knows the rules of the game. He knows what is exactly happening around. His runs his business smoothly in this perfectly harmonized world, a world of 'prey and let prey'. He is cheerfully sure of himself and he feels unassailable in this impregnable fortress. He is pleasant and sociable. He makes you like him. He asks you about your mother's health and your daughter's admission in the college. He takes pleasure in the trifling details of life. He has no ideal to die for. Infact he mocks at idealists and pities their naivety. He is cool amd amiable. He cracks jokes and keeps himself surrounded by giggling females. For him, morality(!!) exists within the system. He knows of no morality without it. His sense of corruption is distorted; interestingly but not surprisingly, for him disturbing the harmony, the equilibrium of the system is an act of corruption. He accepts the things as they are. He worships the rising sun, the right God. Very naturally, very comfortably he changes his loyalties and rationalizes his priorities. He is pragmatic. He is wise. In the later stages of his life you can hear him preaching about right and wrong, properiety and improperiety and 'money-is-not-everything'. He is necessarily religious and invokes mythological(which are at his fingertips) events and metaphors to support his actions and position every now and then. All his goons are his Hanumans! For even worse things(promiscuity or politics of the most diabolical nature), Krishna is dragged down from heavens. He goes for pilgrimage every year. And finally he builds a temple and settles all the accounts.
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HERO: On the other hand our DCP saheb is a poor victim of his own ideals. He burdens his mind with the things that are outdated and that noone takes seriously. Perhaps he takes life a little too seriously. Perhaps he should not. He actually gets distressed by seeing others in distress. Perhaps he should not. Remember Dr Bhaskar Bannerjee in Anand? Remember his angst, his bitterness? Remember his grit with which he fights his own helplessness before the enormity of the monster he was fighting with? Like his other friends, he can not pretend to be pained by the ubiquitous misery around him at one moment and gleefully plan a comedy movie the next moment. Perhaps he should also learn to ignore things. Perhaps he should also learn to forget things.
But he doesnt forget what his father had tought him when he was a kid. He doesnt forget even when his father himself teaches him just the opposite of what he had tought him when he was a kid. He is incorrigibly idealistic. He just doesnt understand that the real world is not that good.
The real world is a place where everyone is converting into bad simply because everyone else is doing so!
To start with, he is a betrayed man. He has been betrayed by his books and teachers. Oh how I wish he knew the efficacy with which the books cover the reality! That realization wouldve averted the disillusionment and heartbreak. He is like a man who was trained in cricket and was sent to a stadium where a football match was being played. And he stood like an idiot in the middle of the playground with his bat, amazed and clueless, amid guffawing spectators. What should he do there? He is like an actor who finds himself totally out of place at the stage. He finds that a different play is being staged. Imagine this situation! He is not required, not wanted but still he is there. He feels absolutely alienated there. What does a hero do here? We'll come to that in a while.

He observes that the real world works very differently from the bookish world. And noone cares or dares to write what actually happens around us. There are things that are known to all but said by none. He wonders why the world is like that. He wonders what to do with his bat in the football match?
Catch 22. Since he can function only within a (legal) framework and the framework is itself a device of the system, it is deliberately not made powerful enough to challenge the system. If he chooses to fight his battle without the (legal) framework then he himself becomes an outlaw, a criminal! He is nothing outside the system. He needs the system to beat it! And of course the system would not allow itself to be beaten. But this was so ridiculously simple! Why didnt he think it earlier? When he realizes the obvious absurdity in his erstwhile expectation, he feels foolish and frustrated.
He might decide to take the things head-on. Then he finds himself living against someone or something. Always. 24*7. His life virtually becomes a guerilla war, he finds himself thinking about the moves of the game he has pushed himself into. This game takes a toll on his personal life too. He most likely becomes irascible and grows sharp claws that hurt those who are near to him. His relationships start suffering. People gradually start avoiding him. After sometime he feels so much lonely that his battle seems to be only for the sake of his ego and nothing else. Perpetual loneliness cast a shadow on his life. He doesnt know what to do. Remember Shool?
Most of the people dont see the life of heroism beyond this stage. They succumb to the mounting pressure. But he, the hero, persists. He has the character to persist.
He starts delivering his dialogues at the stage. He doesnt mind others. He doesnt mind their indifference. He doesnt mind their hoots, their cries, and their vociferous protests. He deflates the self-assurance of the other actors who were banking on his passivity. Now it's their turn to be taken by surprise. Now it's their turn to feel that they are vulnerable too. The audience come to know about the other, the alternative play. Now they can choose between the two. They first step is taken. The first battle is won.
Camus says that the ultimate hero of humanity is Sisyphus* (read this). He somewhat repeats to what Krishna had suggested to Arjun (Karmanyevadhikaraste.. or Swadharme nadhanam shreyah paradharmoh bhayavayah) in Bhagavat Geeta.
A hero exhibits an unflinching faith, an indomitable devotion in his purpose. He stands by his values. He lives for what he believes in and he dies for the same. He might not be pragmatic but then a hero is NEVER a practical man. A practical, worldly man can never evoke strong emotions and respect from us.
The hero makes his own way. He challenges the unchallengables. He defeats the skepticism of others who are too weak to do so. He breaks the matrix by breaking its nodes one by one, with utmost patience. I have recently watched a movie called 'Ek ruka hua faisla'. In this movie, a man, who is the hero, changes the opinion of all his adversaries one by one. Watch the movie to see why this man is a hero.
Popular cinema perpetuates the myth that a vanquishing a villain is a necessary condition for a man to be a hero. Infact even the presence of an external villain is not needed. A man becomes a hero by winning over hsi own frailties that are abundant in anyone of us. This is an important point to understand.
The concept of hero is very interesting, as I see it. Initially people pull his leg, they block his way, they deny him their attention, they make fun of him. Perhaps they do it perhaps because they refuse to accept his superiority over them. Those who are near to him do it out of jealousy and others because of habit. But once he crosses a threshold, they admire him and raise him up. They positively want him to rise higher and shine brighter. They look up to him. He becomes the center of their hope. They fight on behalf of him coz they fight through him. They win through him. They live through him. They need him for themselves. He gives them a direction. He leads them. He frees them.
First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win. - Mahatma Gandhi
* Greek Mythology: Sisyphus is forced to roll a block of stone against a steep hill, which tumbles back down when he reaches the top. Then the whole process starts again, lasting all eternity.
My description of villain and hero might seem to you philosophically unteneble or unfounded. It might be dificult to be defended but it is not unfounded. This is what I have seen in my life and I have written it here at the risk of being laughed at in case you find yourself unable to relate to my experiences. Let me say that it is in no way an exhaustive definition or something of that sort. I never intend to do that. I have never done that. The scope of this essay is just a part of what I have seen and felt. I recognize that it is incomplete.

Monday, November 28, 2005

'I am amuse' - the background of the critique

What weakens our existential position? It is a very interesting question answering of which demands a deep delving into the depths of human psychology. I am not going to attempt this question. I am only going to start this post with it.
Lets imagine: you are an honest and idealist DCP and you have waged a war against the local mafia. The MLA is known to be the man behind the illegal activities too. He is the Godfather of the prominent gang operating in the area. You have arrested many goons of his gang and raided his godowns with remarkable success. There is a virtual cold-war between you and him. You can very well imagine the tension involved in such type of battle if you have seen 'Shool'.
One fine day you get a call by your delirious wife about the kidnapping of your daughter from her school. You, being a police officer, are doubly targetted by this. Your love as well as your honour is at stake. You unleash the full force of the police machinary to rescue your child but all your efforts go in vain. Also you can not do anything rash here. You are lying utterly helpless and wretched beside your half-dead wife at your home.
The next day in evening the MLA turns up with his wife to show his sympathy and solidarity at this hour of crisis.
- What to say at this hour of crisis? But I very well guessed they were after you. This is how they are, the bastards, the cowards! This is how they go on doing their business. Murder, kidnapping, and what not, nothing is what they wouldnt do to meet their ends. They have made a hell out of this place. They should be encountered or hanged without trail. They dont deserve any mercy. Is this how you earn money? They are a shame on the name of this place! Even I do business. But kidnapping? Never! Murder? Ram Ram! But look at the irony. The opposition has made me God knows what. I am the most misunderstood man I tell you.
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- But it's sad that the police is also misguided. I, the humble servant of people, am branded as a thief, a robber, a criminal! Wasnt it for the love of my people I would have committed suicide in grief. But I was and I am hopeful that everyone will see the truth someday. I have full faith in God. God has given me whatever I have and I am sure He will not deny me justice either.
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- I am bearing this pain for my people. But what makes you playing with your life? And your familiy's life? Look at your wife! I cant see her like this. My wife is also a mother. She can better understand her plight. She urged me to see you and help you in whichever way I could. So I am here. You might consider me your enemy but you can not ignore the fact that I am as old as your father. I have seen the world more than you. No book or degree will teach you the experience I have. You are like a son to me. Seeing you like this gives me an unbearable pain. My heart cries out for you.
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- Look. I know this gang very well. This man used to wash my car a few days back before his soaring ambition took him away from me, to the path of crime like kidnapping. He may not be with me anymore but I know people who can help us. Only if you want. Your police force, I am sure, will do nothing but endanger the life of the kid. You have been quite childish in the past. You dont understand the practicalities of life. Duty is okay but you should have been more careful and more discreet.
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- Leave it. Now dont regret what have you done. At your age everyone commits some mistake. Make sure you dont repeat them. You must learn something from your experiences. I would be happy if you treat me as your friend. And you, Beti, dont cry, and dont worry. As long as I am here nothing will happen to your child. She will return home safe. And very soon.
Can you say a NO to his offer? No, you can not because you are a man, not God. Only God is supposed to be get away with Godly moralities because he is powerful and invulnerable. We mortals must prepare ourselves for severe punishments for flaunting moralities.
How would you feel? How would you feel in recieving help from your worst enemy? How would you react? Could you afford to be the same police officer as you were? What would remain the same in you?
Think and look at the question again.
What weakens our existential position?
Note: Whatever, this is not the point. This is just a background for the critique of the play I just watched. And for my portrait of Hero and Villain.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Happy Independence Day

I had been a cynic for a long time. However I had never been in love with my cynicism. I had always wanted freedom from it. I had always wanted to feel the fresh air around me as I felt when I was a kid. I still remember how bright were the days when hope lighted my thoughts. I yearned for the evenings which were full of fun. I wanted to grow young!

I dont know when the shadow of pessimism eclipsed my eyes. I have no clue since when I started looking at the world as if there was nothing new to see. As if nothing new was there to listen and nothing new was there to say. A big sense of all-embracing obviousness rendered me incapable to appreciate the small, innocent joys of everyday life. Very discreetly and very insidiously it took possession of my mind. A perpetual frown marked the shape of my face. Suspicion and paranoia became the complexion of my thoughts. My sun seemed to set for ever.

Suddenly the silence of my life was pierced by a tune, a tune I was waiting to hear since eternity. It was a tune of hope, a music of optimism, a sound of victory which re-created life in me. It was like a magic, like a miracle, as if all the stars came close to me to rescue me from the deathly jaws of darkness. I am feeling enlightened again. I am overwhelmed with hope again. Life is surging inside me again. Though I have nothing with me. But that doesnt matter to me. My hands are empty. But that never makes anyone poor anyway. It's the mind. It's the mind that makes you rise from the deepest ditches. I have nothing with me but hope. And a will. And so I have all. My eyes are moist with this nostalgic youthfulness. Today I am feeling free. Today is my independence day. Today my sun rose in my life. Tonight is my deepawali.

Oh where had I lost myself? But by His grace I am back to myself. I am so thankful to Him! With bent knees, clasped fists held closely to my chest, closed eyes and incorruptible faith I am praying to Him. Oh lord, make me worthy of my goal and lead me to a goal worthy of myself. Oh lord, give me strength. Give me strength to endure the pain that would welcome me in the way. Give me the strength to ignore the temptations that would lure me to the less painful. Give strength to my dreams so that they could break the myth of reality. Give me strength to fight my complacencies. Give me strength to run alone. Bless my purpose and give strength in my devotion. Give me strength to keep myself worthy of your kindness.

I have been sleeping for long. I see no trace of the caravan I was a part of. All I see is a settling fog of sand there. They must have gone that way. Enough of resting and enough of sleeping. I need to run now and I will run now. I will run faster than I ever ran. I will run faster than anyone had ever run. It's a run for life; it's a run for redemption. There are some promises to be fulfilled, there are some dreams to be realized. I cant wait anymore.

- yours truly,
the state of Bihar

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Non-vegetarianism and Raping 'the others'

Vegetarianism is one of the very few doctrines I staunchly adhere to. Frequently I am confronted by the question - why I dont eat meat. My non-veg friends start throwing superlatives about the sublimity of the sensual delight it produces in your mouth. Then they urge me to 'try' it. My surname encourages them to assume that I hail from a meatophobic family background. So far so good. But then a very unexpected I-used-to-eat-non-veg-but-quit-it long-back comes as a bouncer and then they are often caught in surprise. 'Why?', they wail in pain. But generally I refuse to speak more about this subject to them. I fear that would create a bad taste in their mouth.

But it was different with Akshay. I knew he is one of them who know to dive deep into meaningful discussions with full fervor without getting too much attached to it. It is a very rare quality which I rarely found in anyone else after Ashutosh.

Without any prelude I put forward my view on non-vegetarianism.

- it is like rape, equally hideous and horrible.
- Why rape? Why not murder?
- I know nothing more inhuman and repugnant than rape. That's why.

Well, that doesn't sounds convincing at first. But there are parallels between slaughtering an animal and raping a person. Let me explain my point.

1. Compare the pleasure one gets by eating the most sumptuous non-veg delicacy to the pain that the animal suffers. Is there any comparison? And any justification? (No, you dont have to justify anything to me. But what about your own conscience?)

Similarly raping a woman or molesting a child for the ephemeral sensual or non-sensual gratification can NOT be justified, in any language, under any circumstances. It is outrightly criminal, inhuman act which is unworthy of any kindness and consideration. It is one of the most shameful thing I know a person can do to another.

There are certain extenuating circumstances where muder can be justified, can be defended, can even be glorified. But I can not think the same about rape. Again, similarly, killing an animal for a fleeting gustatory orgasm is too inordinately cruel an act to allow any sympathy. Yes, doing it for survival is a different issue and a VERY special case. I dont know anyone who has been stranded on an island and was forced to kill animals for his sustainence. But it is routinely presented as a readymade explanation. This is a very dishonest argument and it exhibits nothing but a plain lack of cooperation in a meaningful discussion. You simply can not convince these type of people. They are incorrigibly corrupt.

Again, murder is not always committed by a stronger person. But rape is a power game, or more precisely an overpower game. It is primitive to the core of this word. It is DISGUSTING. Same with non-veg, you kill because you can. But I think it is extremely shallow to exercise might on meek and weak.

- OK. Cool it. They are made to be eaten by us. It is natural.
As you are made to be eaten by a cannibal. As women are made to be exploited by men. As the poor is made to be starved by the rich. History echoes in your voice my friend. As blacks were made to be slaves by Whites. As Jews were made to be unworthy of any human dignity by Germans. As the Chinese were made an object of the most atrocious amusement by the Japanese in Nanking. Anyone can be made to be anything that way.

Would you have this as a categorical imperative - a universal rule? Oh no, you want it to wreck havoc at some selected places, and affect some selected people. And those places should be far from your home isnt? Sorry my friend, you can not live at a safe island that is surrounded by a stormy sea. If you think that you can, you think pathetically. Better outsource thinking to someone else.

This is again a very insincere argument where you know that the person himself is not convinced by his argument. He even wants you to know this by letting go a smile at the corner of his mouth for a moment. Since his stance is absolutely untenable he will try to trivialize it. What else can he do anyways? Sometimes I dont but sometimes I do find this outrageously satanic. The evil seems so deeply rooted in man that every human endeavor towards the establishment of peace seems farcical.

Man! Admit it. You never wanted peace. Peace is too boring for your taste. You always, secretly, longed to see blood. Werent you there cheering feverishly for (or against) Maximus while he was fighting for his life in the Colosseum? Dont you feel the same, dont you titillate your senses in the same perverse manner, when a matador deceives (or fails to deceive) a charging bull? You always wanted to enjoy the sight of soil moist with red blood, you always craved for its sweet hot smell. And you have never tried to even diagnose this very basic problem to cure it. Perhaps you never wanted to be cured. Only when you are plundered, brutally massacred and savagely raped, then only your dormant, nearly extinct faculty of humanity gets activated. Isnt it so? It is all about sides. Which side you are at- dominating or dominated.

2. This let them die attitude has killed us. Because we are also them for them. We have never been serious about solving the real problem. Only when you fall at the wrong side, you crib and wail. Otherwise you rock and roll. And that is why NOTHING WILL SAVE US.

Our very attitude towards 'the other' is vicious and pernicious. Let me elaborate.

It is very disturbing observation that the evaluation of an act is done only after knowing who was subjected to it. For instance- Killing a Pakistani is not so bad. Raping a dalit woman is not that unpermissible. Voting for a corrupt politician is okay if he happens to be of your own caste. Thankfully the stillborn was a girl child!

This apathy (nay, antipathy) has permeated our thought process profoundly. This even vitiate our sexuality. Khushwant Singh encashes this hidden perverseness of ours by writing 'Company of woman' where he strips girls of different religions and communities and tickles the testicles of us animals. Read that book which is far worse than pornography because it tries to render sex a political act. Can you imagine anything more replulsive?

The other has always been too bad to deserve a stay here. They should either be assimilated or purged. You should seduce their girls and marry them in order to convert them. You should divide them and multiply yourself. You should save your holy land from their unholy presence. You should beat them, loot them, rape them and kill them because it is them and as long as you do this to them this is not bad.

This is our morality in practice. And this is precisely why morality is sterile. It has been reduced to academic pastime taken with biscuits and coffee but not with seriousness and respect.

Our practical morality dictates that animals are fit to be killed and eaten because unlike you they are four-footed; because they can not protest; because they don't have political say; because they are weak. They must be, therefore, subjected to wait for a sharp scary weapons to rip their flesh apart before their helpless eyes. And doing that is not crime!

But the same act becomes a crime when someone does that to you or your kid! And you think it will work for you! No it won't. It didn't. Look - the color of human history is black-red - the color of dead blood. This is because of our dual mentality. And you know what - It is abominable! Cutting throat is abominable whether if is accompanied by mantra of Vedas or verses of Quran. There is no escape from death and truth.

It is inhuman to slit throats even if the throat being slit is not human. There are two types of people - those who can slit throats and those who can not. Those who can cut the throat of a speechless, defenseless, animal while looking in its eyes can do the same to your kid as well. This is to be understood at a social level. I am not talking about any particular sections of people, all of us share that cruelty inside us. We have inherited it collectively.

Killing is all about doing it once. It is all about crossing the threshold. Then it is easy. Then numbers dont matter to us. Death doesn't happen twice. Try to understand this. Words fail to describe what I am feeling right now. All I can say is that I am ashamed to be one of us. If human being is doomed to sufferings till death, it is justified because he deserves it.

Open your eyes. Cant you see how interconnected everything is? Take the cock-fight in Lucknow or the fight of gladiators in Rome. They are same. Dont you feel chicken were a cheap substitute for men in Awadh? Wont a visit to the Colosseum would have been a dream come true for Miya Jumman, since he would get to see the REAL stuff? How can we ignore this glaring similarity? It is too seriously related to us to be taken non-seriously.

This is now when I feel that only Gandhi could rescue us from ourselves. Only if we wanted to. But evidently we didnt.

- Then why do you eat plants? Even they have life.

True. But they dont have eyes. They dont talk to us. How much cruelty do you invoke to boil a potato? And what about the Jain hierarchy of senses? Doesnt it make any sense to you?

But above all my intention is to make you realize the disasterous consequences of allowing cruelty to others. We need to wage an internal war against this. Words wouldnt help much. This is not an issue of persuasion but of realization. Ultimately humanity would find salvation through Ahimsa which doesnt just mean not killing but it means not even having a desire of killing. We need to evolve ourselves to reach this height. The evolved world will be made on the foundation of Ahimsa only.

It is not late if we start even now. Camus launched a solo, and successful, campaign to abolish capital punishment in France and the mankind took a step ahead. Lets stop consuming carcass of animals and take one more step. It is highly unaesthetic to convert a beautiful living fish into a disgraceful slab of dead flesh. Let us admire life as long we are alive! Let us respect the sanctity of body as long as we have one!

Have a heart, be vegetarian. If you dont have that at least have a mind. If you dont have that too anyways you are in hell and thats where you will go sooner or later.

My understanding of freedom

Freedom: One of a few words which has become so powerful that it even dominates the meaning it denotes. It has become dangerously and dreadfully popular among those who are awed by the words and think in terms of words rather than ideas. I believe that this type of thinking is worse than not thinking at all. And I tell you that the people who want to display their cognitive muscles through swelling words constitute the majority! The word, the celibrity is leading the majority like a herd of lemmings are led for mass suicide. Credulity kills and so a blind devotion to this word will kill us. Do I sound skeptical? Perhaps I am. But perhaps I am just being careful and I have my reasons. This word has turned into a Frankestein. This word has started to hitler our thought process now, it has become the answer of every question asked, it is now an unfailing argument against every reason. It has grown cancerously in our system. And we are there intellectually prostrated, helplessly, cluelessly, before this enigmatically misunderstood monster, a hyped product of our own elusive, deceitful intellect.
What is freedom? Is it a means or an ends? That's the main question to answer. Do we ever care to think about it? I feel a splitting headache when people use this word as if it has outgrown every possible context, as if this word means something of its own, in isolation, without anything required before or after it! What a shameless submission before sheer nonsense! This is nothing but mental laziness!
For me this word means NOTHING if not followed by at least one of the prepositions 'from' or 'of/for'. Actually it makes sense only when 'freedom for' decides 'freedom from'. Let me elucidate my point.
Suppose I say I am free or I want freedom. What does it mean? It, the word freedom, often sounds intellectually intimidating to us but that's it. It is made to be arrogant like that because it has nothing else in it. It has no content at all. Ok man you are free. Free from what?? Space? Time? Death? Life? Gravity? Market? Media? Instincts? What??????
I can very well be thrown at escape velocity into the vast limitless boundless space but even THAT wouldnt make me ABSOLUTELY free. Yes I could say I am free of gravity but, speaking abstractly, there would be many other forces which would determine my trajectory and mock at my impossible and naive quest for an unlimited freedom. What does this mean anyway? To me its a farce, an intellectual waste, nothing else. How can we be absolutely free as long as I am spacially and temporarily bound. I can not be at two places at a time. And this binding dilimits me and defines me. It gives me my identity. It makes me what I am. At a particular space and particular time, here and now, I exist. I will be lost if I somehow get scattered in all the dimensions of space and time. I am when there is something else so this I becomes meaningful. I am only when I am finite. And finite is not free, for it is bound. So, theoritically speaking, it is this very lack of freedom that gives me my existence. Any false sense (or nonsense) of freedom can only mislead us and misguide us and this is precisely what it is doing. It is breaking relationships. This inordinate longing for freedom is bound to sever every thread we are tied with. It is doing this because we have lost our wisdom, our sense of balance. We have allowed ourselves to be led astray by it. I remember a picture from a story I read when I was a kid- 'The pied piper of Hamlin', a pictute of hundreds of rats following a piper. We are also following a few hip ideas, blindly, without proper examination, we have always done so. And we have suffered a lot.
The pursuit of freedom is like preparing for some admission test. You dont do it endlessly. You dont do it for its own sake. It is unthinkable to do so. Once you are through the test you study the subject you want to. Similarly the attainment of freedom enables us to do the thing we wanted to do. Otherwise freedom has no intrinsic value of its own. In 60s, the aimless youth of US attemped to find some inherent value in freedom per se but we all know that it was a failed experiment. The cool combo of six-string and cocaine could not procure salvation to them. The hippy culture is dead. Some of them burnt themselves out and others faded away.
But it is we who are responsible for it. We have placed disproportionate weightage to this cult word which had initially a beautiful meaning and a promising role to play in our society. Again and again I've been quoting the Greek philosopher Paracelsus who made a beautiful observation and highlighted the value of balance. Let me repeat it because it is germane to do so here: Every substance is a poison. There is none that is not. It is the dose which determines whether it is a poison or a medicine. Wisdom is nothing but a sense of proportion. We must not discard it if we are serious about ourselves. But here we have allowed ourselves to be awed and led by this word-freedom. It seems that freedom has outshined wisdom in terms of popularity.
We are being told, glibly and irrisponsibly, to break every bond. Man is so delighed with his discovery of challenging conventions is that he is not thinking twice before throwing the baby with the bath water. But is it not potentially devastating? It has to be. It is too convenient an idea to be making sense. Unless you know what freedom is for how would you know and why would you bother to know what it is from. It is the for which decides the from. If the from is decided without the knowledge of for then freedom becomes not just useless but a threat to one's well-being. Without this for, freedom is a mark of curse, it's an ill-omen which would bring doom in life. It makes us wander in the infinity like a dead leaf swayed by the most flippant gust of air. It strips us of our gravity, our roots.
Hermann Hesse says the first statue a child breaks is that of his father. This is how he comes out of the shadow of his father and becomes a man. How true! But it could be fathomlessly detrimental for the future of a child if he takes this at its face value. Talking personally, I am not an obedient son. I have never been perhaps. I have defied norms, stopped worshipping or participating in puja, threw my janeu and so on. I always strove for independence. But there was an unsaid conract between me and my parents. I never disobeyed them just for the sake of it, just to be different or just because it made me feel great. Never. I freed myself from these things for some reasons which appeared reasonable to me and then to my parents too. My parents could very well have been unreasonable. But in that case also I was doing it with a clear purpose and not because someone said so. I never fell in the traps set by those who define what is in for the youth. I have always been anachronistic in my own ways.
Finally, One needs to realize, very urgently, the poisonous side-effects of the gratuitous misuse of this word. Terms like free-trade, free-market, free-will etc are floating in air in such an abundance that it chokes our imagination. Half of them are quixotic and are used as a verbal trickery, as trump cards against every other argumant, and others are ridiculous. As ridiculous like a character in Crime and Punishment who wants his wife to indulge in adultery just because he is in love with his self-image of a progressive man who allows his wife to be free.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Those who grow on me

I read. Gradually I feel my taste has become more refined. Or perhaps I feel it should be so. Under the influence of the rising demands of my elevated taste or its pressing supposition, I have started reading the works of art which are percieved to be read exclusively by the people of superior taste.
I read a few great works of prose by some of the icons of literature. It includes Dr Zhivago by Pasternak, Hundred years of solitude by Marquez, The stranger by Camus to name a few. I shared a common feeling while reading each of these books- I found each of them overestimated. I finished the last page and closed the book with a sigh of relief.
The next feeling was more remarkable. It started with Dr Zhivago. Somehow I felt that I was not able to forget that snow covered landscape that the author has painted before my mind. This was amazing because I had dismissed the book with the verdict - 'overestimated'. I read the lines again which I had underlined when I went home. I was thoroughly enthralled by it this time. The genius of Pasternak was revealing itself to my mind which is, I admit, difficult to be permeated by if not impervious to the novel ideas. I was slightly ashamed of my ineptness but more than that I was happy to discover it, though late. One of my friends used to call me tubelight. She was right.
This incident of late realization was not an exceptional case, a deviation. And for my good. Marquez made little sense to me and I rated his next book 'Love at the times of cholera' better. But my lack of understanding couldnt enjoy its stay in my mind for long and a sudden realization evicted it forever. The image of Pietro Crespi and the butterflies following him occupied my dreams and reveries. I felt the way I looked at the world changed with time. It's he who developed my sense of imagery and more than that- the faculty of olfaction. Now I smell songs, smell words... I can smell each page of Arundhati Roy's The God of small things or Rut aa gayi re (1947 Earth) because I had met Marquez in the way.
The stranger was covered in a train journey. But it look me a long to uncover it. Why this fuss all about was my unsaid response. Later on when the picture Camus created refused to escape my mind, I understood what makes things great. Unlike 1984 which gave me goosebumps every minute I read and faded sooner than later, the stranger was anything but love at the first sight. But he was not in hurry either. He took the little space I contemptuously gave in my little mind and slowly started growing making even my mind grow with him. It was extraordinary!!
Good books dont end with their pages. They start with their last pages rather. They grow within us. They sustain us. This is what i have realized and written on the last good book I have finished (if this is a right word)- Narcissus and Goldmund.
The relation between a good mind and a good book is like a friendship of two good human beings. As a subhashit(Sanskrit-word of wisdom) says - the friendship of petty people is like the shadow of first half which reduces as the day progresses whereas the friendship of noble people is like the shadow of seconds half which grows larger with time.
Dont you feel the same? With books, with music, with people?
I was relieved to find myself loving the last great piece of literature I read- Old man and the sea by Ernest Hemingway. He must be a great man to have written such a beautiful book. It is far far better than any bestseller self-help book you will see in the market. And here I am talking about only one feature of this great work - its ability to inspire. I think it is, at least in parts, one of the best explanation of the widely misunderstood shloka as I undderstand it- Karmanyevadhikaraste ma faleshu kadachana...

Monday, November 21, 2005

Ravana and Oedipus Rex

I saw 'Hanuman' a couple of days back. It's a cute movie with a few thought bytes randomly thrown to the people. I am fond of animation movies so I bothered myself to ride to the theater after around 4-5 months. I find them so beautiful! And even surrealistic sometimes!
Before I digress let me come to the point I wish to talk about. Let me first brief you about what Aristotle has said about Greek Tragedies in his Poetics. He has conceptualized it and postulated three main elements of tragedy; 1.Hubris, 2.Hamartia, and 3.Catharsis. Hubris is excessive pride and arrogance, hamartia means the fatal mistake which causes the fall of the protagonist, and catahrsis is the purgation of negative emotions.
I had read Oedipus Rex by Sophocles in my last year at IITD. Yeah he is the same Oedipus of 'Oedipus complex' fame who kills his father and marries his mother and later on gets popularised by Freud.
Oedipus is a gifted child with extraordinary abilities. But he is accursed and doomed to bring terrible disasters upon his father, the king. He is sent away to be killed in a jungle but the kind hearted servant spares him. He is raised by someone else and grows as an man of strength and values. One day he gets to know about his accursed fate that he is to kill his father and marry his mother. Absolutely shaken, he decides to leave his parents as well as the city. In the way he encounters his real father, the old king, and thoroughly disturbed he was, gets into a scrap with the king. Fuming with anger he kills the old king. Then he comes to know the custom of the city- one who kills the king gets the throne and marries the queen. See how his destiny finally catches him despite so much human protest. Terrible things follow later on..
This is representative Greek tragedy. The protagonist is a man of high stature endowed with the best qualities but one weakness- hubris. This hubris prompts him to commit an act far below his dignity, the last error which opens the doors to hell- hamartia. The simple audience, fully in awe of the man, realizes what can hubris do to them if such tragedies befall such great men. Their negative, distructive emotions gets purged, fully or partially, and they feel a cathartic experience. Also, it demosntrate divine superiority over human beings.
Now I think I am done with the background.
Lets come back to Hanuman. Perhaps our ancient philosophers were aware of this technique of purgation. But they could not theorize it as Aristotle. I found striking similarities between the characters of Ravana and Oedipus. Ravana was not a petty man, a backstreet rapist. He was a man of knowledge, power and principles. He was a devout Shaiv brahmin who could rock the Singhasan of Indra too. Let us ignore mythological details and just say that he was an elevated man. Not selected by Sita in her swayamvar, he was seething with anger and at last his hurt vanity made him do the lowliest act- abducting a woman for amorous fulfillment. (This is one of the many versions of mythology but this is what they showed in the movie.) That ultimately becomes the cause of his fall.
Can you find the similarity? I found it so amazing!!