Tempest

Friday 11 January 2008

Contemplations

I don't want this blog becoming a diary...and when you have nothing to write about except your own life, you realise how self centered you have become. Its all about my life, not 'life'...the most narrow minded view one can have, I can have. I also hate writing in first person, it makes me more aware of what I am telling the world about me and in turn inhibits me. I thus speak boldly using 'I' voraciously and fool the whole lot by not saying anything about the 'I' in actuality. So, this time, I've decided to write in third person and unleash my true thoughts onto an imaginary 'she'; in essence fooling myself rather than everyone else.
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Everything needs to be done for the right reasons or it is never done right and never yeilds the desired results. Why is anyone good to anybody else? Why does anybody do a kind deed? Why would anybody go out of their way to help anyone? Is it simply because they are called nice? Is it simply because they become more popular and favourable in others eyes, in the eyes of their peers and comtemporaries? Recently...or sometime back, she can't quite put a date to it, but irrespective of when it was, she discovered that being nice to others made them nice to you. She discovered that a few kind words in spite of rudeness would in turn make the other person eventually soften their demeanor towards you. At times long drawn and enduring, but always with the same sure shot result. It was a simple matter of what goes around comes back around. She attributed it to tolerance and patience and assumed it to be a great virtue to be nurtured and valued. Little did she realise that this little virtue was cultivated on a very selfish pretext of ensuring that the world or those that mattered, even those who didn't were nice to her. In effect being nice, kind and helpful to others was purely a reflexive act towards the ultimate goal of self preservation. She lived in an air-tight bubble of imagining that she would always be kind and helpful to her friends and those she cared about irrespective of the returns. Its good to be kind is what she believed. This in essense shows that she was more or less nice because 'someone' or rather 'society' decreed it right to be nice and not because genuine empathy came from within her.

A while ago, getting carried away by some idealistic reading and conversations she started volunteering with old people. She figured it would be a nice thing to do, to spend a few evenings a week with the elderly and make them feel good, in effect make herself feel satisfied. Yes making herself feel satisfied was the main reason she took up this endeavour. It had nothing to do with helping them and making their last few years blissful. Initially it was a little embarrassing to refuse to go meet friends for dinner as she had a volunteering engagement, but there was also an odd pride in standing up in front of peers and saying what she thought was right. Yet again the end to the means was different. It was about proving to herself that she could do anything that she thought was right irrespective of what everybody thought. It was not about the old people, it was not about truly making them happy. It was never about seeing the delightful glow on their faces when she read them an interesting piece of gossip from the evening newspaper, it wasn't about the glee expressed by an old woman who was surreptitiously offered truffle by her, it wasn't about making him cheerful either. Lets call him Mr. George. He made everything difficult. He refused to smile when she offered to spend time with him, he refused to feel happy when she played chess with him, he never felt flattered if she skipped her social engagements to walk around the premises with him on a cold evening. He told her in a very flat tone of voice that she was doing him no favour by being there and it was him that made her question all her reasons. She doesn't know if her reasons are the right ones. She doesn't know if knowing this will make her reasons change...
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She had been reading Gandhiji's biography the past few days. This statement instantly invokes two common responses of 'I hate him' or 'I love him' from most people she knows. She hasn't quite made up her mind about him but for what it is worth irrespective of consequences he was a great man. There is something to be learnt in perseverance, dedication and stauch stubborness. The man had self control...the power of will. The reader might argue till summer greets us, but it is an extremely rare charactor trait. People wonder (cynically) why Gandhiji's strict philosophies and way of life could not take India further to becoming the equal opportunity nation he wanted it to be. Others 'thu' their own fellow countrymen saying that the love for Gandhi died with the man itself. She doesn't think it was the love that died. His life gives this one very potent lesson, message. Its evident in every stage of his life. For instance, living at Sabarmati ashram, he inspired the discipline, he made everyone follow the rules and live austere lives and do all their work themselves. It was tough but they did it with him, for him and inspired by him. But everytime he left the ashram on a mission to another place, the ashram would fall slack. It would lose its discipline and the 'inmates' would again go back to living lazy lives. She says 'inmates' because they lacked inspiration from within and lacked a will of their own. They fed off his will power and the conviction of his beliefs. They only did what he said because they felt it was the word of one very wise and great but did not hold the conviction of the very same beliefs in their hearts. Gandhiji's major failing (I apologise) here was not being able to translate the very same understanding of these beliefs to his followers. My only defense for him is that it was not his duty to do so. He spread the right message it was not his duty to ensure that our hearts and minds grasped it...that was our duty. Its a major lesson in being staunch towards ones beliefs, a major lesson in being resolute and following something to the core. Nothing ever works unless it is done for the right reasons. The will cannot be resolute unless the heart and mind in unison believe in the purpose, in the mission. Gandhiji had immense belief in his purpose, we had immense belief in him. Therein lies the difference.
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She learnt the meaning of humility.

She learnt that some stay...some walk...but you love them anyway.

She also learnt that sometimes when you think you've given your very best to someone and are happy and satisfied in a bubble of knowing you went out on a limb to be there for them, they can tell you that you did not come through for them as a friend. She learnt that it was okay to take a deep breath and re-question whether she actually had.
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'Always look at the bright side of life', this is a song in Monty Python's 'Spamalot' which is a laugh riot. This song has been running several marathons in her head for the past few days. But she truly learnt how to the other day when, as she was looking at herself in the mirror and complaining about how unapealing she looks normally, her friend pointed out 'Well atleast you look decent when you dress up, think about how awful some poeple look even after that!'

It was mean, but she laughed like hell.

Posted by Pavitra :: 04:48 :: 12 comments