Skip to main content

Clichés

'I don't like meeting people,' I explained when a friend asked why I showed little interest in meeting him after a long period.

People are clichés wherever you go.  They keep repeating themselves.  The repetition may take slightly different avatars.  Some do it in the name of the Christ, some others in Krishna's. Or Allah's. Or some Baba or other fraud.

Fraud is a perpetual cliche from which mankind has no salvation, my friend said. Your problem is that you looked for salvation from them. Silly romantic dreamer! He laughed.

So I am a fraud too? I asked. Living in an illusion!

Aren't all people doing just that?  Living in one illusion or another? In perceived paradises?  Maybe paradise of wealth, power, positions, Babadom, kingdom of heaven... Clichés.  What else?

Solitude is my cliché, I said.

You are a cliché trying to run away from other clichés, he said.


Comments

  1. We all are actors on this stage haranguing our cliches in front of an audience full of actors.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Precisely. We have no escape from cliches: our own as well as others'. Life is the cliche. We can only make the cliche look colourful.

      Delete
  2. "Solitude is my cliché"
    well written and rightly said.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Solitude was the refuge of many people... Some went as far as the Himalayas in search of it...

      Delete
  3. This conversation was an interesting read.

    Sab moh maya hai - world is indeed an illusion. Every individual has his own version and many times it overlaps with others. Even who is a recluse is busy creating his own illusory world. Humans existing for the last 200000 years is a fact that turns us into cliches...whatever number of permutations and combinations of thoughts are possible have been perhaps explored.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, Bushra, the species has been around for tediously too long and turned into miserable clichés.

      Delete
  4. Solitude is often mistaken with Loneliness. Lonliness is marked by a sense of isolation.Solitude, on the other hand, is a state of being alone without being lonely and can lead to self-awareness. so you are not running away from any cliche, in my view. Your thought always provokes my grey matter sir. Awesome you are.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Solitude is my conscious and informed choice and hence i'm not running away. But maybe i'm running away from other people.

      Delete
  5. "Solitude is my cliche". I'm going to steal this line from you whenever I want to avoid social engagements, which is most of the time :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. All the best, Hema. Society is for those who are more crustaceous.

      Delete
  6. Yes, cliche indeed.....we run from one to some other cliche...preferring our own over that of the others....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wish you were more active in this space.

      I know intelligent people find useful occupations 😀

      Delete
  7. We're all running away from something. We're all hopelessly cliche'd. Ah, nice read this one. I know my appreciation sounds a little cliche'd. But hey, now it's out in the open.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's funny isn't it, that life makes running away inevitable? 😊

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Levin the good shepherd

AI-generated image The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10]. A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy. I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possesse

Nakulan the Outcast

Nakulan was one of the many tenants of Hevendrea . A professor in the botany department of the North Eastern Hill University, he was a very lovable person. Some sense of inferiority complex that came from his caste status made him scoff the very idea of his lovability. He lived with his wife and three children in one of Heavendrea’s many cottages. When he wanted to have a drink, he would walk over to my hut. We sipped our whiskies and discussed Shillong’s intriguing politics or something of the sort while my cassette player crooned gently in the background. Nakulan was more than ten years my senior by age. He taught a subject which had never aroused my interest at any stage of my life. It made no difference to me whether a leaf was pinnately compound or palmately compound. You don’t need to know about anther and stigma in order to understand a flower. My friend Levin would have ascribed my lack of interest in Nakulan’s subject to my egomania. I always thought that Nakulan lived

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl