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

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 Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

Unromantic Men

Romance is a tenderness of the heart. That is disappearing even from the movies. Tenderness of heart is not a virtue anymore; it is a weakness. Who is an ideal man in today’s world? Shakespeare’s Romeo and Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s Devdas would be considered as fools in today’s world in which the wealthiest individuals appear on elite lists, ‘strong’ leaders are hailed as nationalist heroes, and success is equated with anything other than traditional virtues. The protagonist of Colleen McCullough’s 1977 novel, The Thorn Birds [which sold more than 33 million copies], is torn between his idealism and his natural weaknesses as a human being. Ralph de Bricassart is a young Catholic priest who is sent on a kind of punishment-appointment to a remote rural area of Australia where the Cleary family arrives from New Zealand in 1921 to take care of the enormous estate of Mary Carson who is Paddy Cleary’s own sister. Meggy Cleary is the only daughter of Paddy and Fiona who have eight so...

Dine in Eden

If you want to have a typical nonvegetarian Malayali lunch or dinner in a serene village in Kerala, here is the Garden of Eden all set for you at Ramapuram [literally ‘Abode of Rama’] in central Kerala. The place has a temple each for Rama and his three brothers: Lakshmana, Bharata, and Shatrughna. It is believed that Rama meditated in this place during his exile and also that his brothers joined him for a while. Right in the heart of the small town is a Catholic church which is an imposing structure that makes an eloquent assertion of religious identity. Quite close to all these religious places is the Garden of Eden, Eden Thoppu in Malayalam, a toddy shop with a difference. Toddy is palm wine, a mild alcoholic drink collected from palm trees. In my childhood, toddy was really natural; i.e., collected from palm trees including coconut trees which are ubiquitous in Kerala. My next-door neighbours, two brothers who lived in the same house, were toddy-tappers. Toddy was a health...

Goodbye, Little Ones

They were born under my care, tiny throbs of life, eyes still shut to the world. They grew up under my constant care. I changed their bed and the sheets regularly making sure they were always warm and comfortable. When one of them didn’t open her eyes after a fortnight of her birth, I rang up my cousin who is a vet and got the appropriate prescription that gave her the light of day in just two days. I watched each one of them stumble through their first steps. Today they were adopted. I personally took them to their new home, a tiny house of a family that belongs to the class that India calls BPL [Below Poverty Line]. I didn’t know them at all until I stopped my car a little away from their small house, at the nearest spot my car could possibly reach. They lived in another village altogether, some 15 km from mine. Sometimes 15 km can make a world of difference. A man who looked as old as me had come to my house in the late afternoon. “I’d like to adopt your kittens,” he said. He...