Skip to main content

Others and I



Like it or not, we can’t live a normal life without society. We depend on a lot of people for a lot of things. My food comes from other people, my dress does, most of the things that I cannot do without come from other people. Yes, other people are ineluctable.

   “Hell is other people!” One of Jean-Paul Sartre’s characters exclaimed when he realised that the hell he had arrived in had no torture chambers or fire and brimstone as he had been taught in catechism classes. “There’s no need for red-hot pokers,” he says because we are the hells.

   Each one of us is a consciousness that has to accommodate itself with other minds. Shame is the original feeling in that accommodation, Sartre says. I begin to see myself as others would see me. I become an object of their gazes. I am an object of their perception and assessment.

   I experienced that shame for years when I was young. There was a period in my life when I was like the clown in a circus. My own follies and personal clumsiness put me in that status. I was in my early thirties but had the immaturity of an adolescent. Shame became my abiding companion, shame heaped on by people who pretended to be friends and well-wishers but were actually the spectators of the circus. Ringmasters too.

   I grew up, however. One has to. That is one of the things that the society does to you. It won’t let you be a child. It won’t let you be anything much, in fact, except what it wants you to be. Society is an unavoidable straitjacket that is part of your inheritance here on this planet.

   You can loosen up that straitjacket, however. I do that. A pull here and a push there, some jerks and a few quirks, and then you have the necessary leeway.

   For the most part, I live in isolation. You don’t need the straitjacket in your private space. In that space you can write these things and get away with it. That getting away is my paradise.

PS. Written for:



Comments

  1. Very interesting string of thoughts. We are all individuals and at the same time part of a society.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Unavoidable but a part too. One of the paradoxes of life.

      Delete
  2. The very same society torments us even in our privacy.

    Very good thoughts expressed here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Privacy is effectively possible only if you can isolate yourself totally from society. Ordinary mortals don't have much choice in that regard, I think.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Break Your Barriers

  Guest Post Break Your Barriers : 10 Strategic Career Essentials to Grow in Value by Anu Sunil  A Review by Jose D. Maliekal SDB Anu Sunil’s Break Your Barriers is a refreshing guide for anyone seeking growth in life and work. It blends career strategy, personal philosophy, and practical management insights into a resource that speaks to educators, HR professionals, and leaders across both faith-based and secular settings. Having spent nearly four decades teaching philosophy and shaping human resources in Catholic seminaries, I found the book deeply enriching. Its central message is clear: most limitations are self-imposed, and imagination is the key to breaking through them. As the author reminds us, “The only limit to your success is your imagination.” The book’s strength lies in its transdisciplinary approach. It treats careers not just as jobs but as vocations, rooted in the dignity of labour and human development. Themes such as empathy, self-mastery, ethical le...

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

The music of an ageing man

Having entered the latter half of my sixties, I view each day as a bonus. People much younger become obituaries these days around me. That awareness helps me to sober down in spite of the youthful rush of blood in my indignant veins. Age hasn’t withered my indignation against injustice, fraudulence, and blatant human folly, much as I would like to withdraw from the ringside and watch the pugilism from a balcony seat with mellowed amusement. But my genes rage against my will. The one who warned me in my folly-ridden youth to be wary of my (anyone’s, for that matter) destiny-shaping character was farsighted. I failed to subdue the rages of my veins. I still fail. That’s how some people are, I console myself. So, at the crossroads of my sixties, I confess to a dismal lack of emotional maturity that should rightfully belong to my age. The problem is that the sociopolitical reality around me doesn’t help anyway to soothe my nerves. On the contrary, that reality is almost entirely re...

Mahatma Ayyankali’s Relevance Today

About a year before he left for Chicago (1893), Swami Vivekananda visited Kerala and described the state (then Travancore-Cochin-Malabar princely states) as a “lunatic asylum.” The spiritual philosopher was shocked by the brutality of the caste system that was in practice in the region. The peasant caste of Pulayas , for example, had to keep a distance of 90 feet from Brahmins and 64 feet from Nairs. The low caste people were denied most human rights. They could not access education, enter temple premises, or buy essentials from markets. They were not even considered as humans. Ayyankali (1863-1941) was a Pulaya leader who emerged to confront the situation. I just finished reading a biography of his in Malayalam and was highly impressed by the contributions of the great man who came to be known in Kerala as the Mahatma of the Dalits . What prompted me to order a copy of the biography was an article I read in a Malayalam periodical last week. The article described how Ayyankali...

The Irony of Hindutva in Nagaland

“But we hear you take heads up there.” “Oh, yes, we do,” he replied, and seizing a boy by the head, gave us in a quite harmless way an object-lesson how they did it.” The above conversation took place between Mary Mead Clark, an American missionary in British India, and a Naga tribesman, and is quoted in Clark’s book, A Corner in India (1907). Nagaland is a tiny state in the Northeast of India: just twice the size of the Lakhimpur Kheri district in Uttar Pradesh. In that little corner of India live people belonging to 16 (if not more) distinct tribes who speak more than 30 dialects. These tribes “defy a common nomenclature,” writes Hokishe Sema, former chief minister of the state, in his book, Emergence of Nagaland . Each tribe is quite unique as far as culture and social setups are concerned. Even in physique and appearance, they vary significantly. The Nagas don’t like the common label given to them by outsiders, according to Sema. Nagaland is only 0.5% of India in area. T...