Skip to main content

Institutionalised Evils

 Bernard Shaw's play, Captain Brassbound's Conversion, is a study of various kinds of evils or follies masquerading as virtues. Justice is in focus particularly. What we imagine as justice is often nothing more than revenge.

In the play, Howard who is a judge and his sister-in-law Cicely who is an explorer arrive at the residence of Rankin, a Presbyterian minister in Morocco. Howard's brother Miles was a friend of Rankin. Miles is no more. He had married a local woman and moved to Brazil where he died. Howard believes that the widow and her family members seized all the wealth of Miles. He used the judiciary to grab that wealth for himself.

Cicely wants to explore Morocco and Rankin arranges a guide, Captain Brassbound. It turns out that Brassbound is Miles's son and he seeks to take revenge on Judge Howard for the injustice he perpetrated on the bereaved family of Miles in the name of justice.

"Justice!" exclaims the judge. "I think you mean vengeance, disguised as justice by your passions."

Brassbound's response is that the judge's justice is nothing more than vengeance either - "the vengeance of society, disguised as justice by its passions." The state pays the judges to wreak vengeance on certain people - often the poor and the helpless.

Can you imagine justice catching up with the affluent and the powerful? They can take lakhs of crores of rupees as loans from public sector banks and never repay. The state writes off their loans. When a poor person is unable to repay his loan of a few thousand rupees, his little property will be confiscated and his children thrown on the streets. Justice.

The state which rakes in nearly two lakh crore rupees in the form of GST alone every month - forgetting the other countless taxes we all pay every moment - has no money for welfare schemes meant for the weaker sections. But the leaders have all the luxury imaginable. Organised theft becomes a virtue just because the government sanctions it.

There are many other organised crimes masquerading as virtues or religion or nationalism in India today. We are deluding ourselves or letting someone who imagines himself as a global Messiah delude us in the names of cow protection or defence of culture or national language, and so on.

Bernard Shaw's play mentioned above ends with a charismatic but rather unrefined person wielding an exotic charm on Cicely. Sheer luck saves her from self-destruction, however. She knows that she is being drawn mysteriously, almost supernaturally, to a force which she doesn't like, which she can't like. But fortune favours her. "How glorious! How glorious! And what an escape!" are her last words, the last words of the play.

All are not as fortunate as Cicely, however.

I don't know why the following pics find their place in this post!






Comments

  1. Hari OM
    Would that this was only an Indian problem - sadly this popuplist form of governement looms large in the world just now, the behaviours common to all such governments, the constantly crying nationally poor whilst living individually megarich... YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. True, Yam, the situation has changed all over the world - almost. Maybe, the concept of Kali Yug is not altogether a myth.

      Delete
  2. Ironic that a leader so popular needs security!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Society created rules to benefit the rich. One of these days we'll wake up to the fact there are more of us than there are of them.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lot of places is loosing the middle class.
    Coffee is on.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sadly impoverishing system though the opposite was the promise.

      Delete
  5. I can only think of what we in our limited capacities can do here. Write blog posts, that to is no less dangerous these days, but maybe we will have to if only to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, we are in an Orwellian kingdom. Helpless. I can afford to write like this just because I live in Kerala.

      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

Being Christian in BJP’s India

A moment of triumph for India’s women’s cricket team turned unexpectedly into a controversy about religious faith and expression, thanks to some right-wing footsloggers. After her stellar performance in the semi-final of the Wormen’s World Cup (2025), Jemimah Rodrigues thanked Jesus for her achievement. “Jesus fought for me,” she said quoting the Bible: “Stand still and God will fight for you” [1 Samuel 12:16]. Some BJP leaders and their mindless followers took strong exception to that and roiled the religious fervour of the bourgeoning right wing with acerbic remarks. If Ms Rodrigues were a Hindu, she would have thanked her deity: Ram or Hanuman or whoever. Since she is a Christian, she thanked Jesus. What’s wrong in that? If she was a nonbeliever like me, God wouldn’t have topped the list of her benefactors. Religion is a talisman for a lot of people. There’s nothing wrong in imagining that some god sitting in some heaven is taking care of you. In fact, it gives a lot of psychologic...

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...

Sardar Patel and Unity

All pro-PM newspapers carried this ad today, 31 Oct 2025 No one recognised Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel as he stood looking at the 182-m tall statue of himself. The people were waiting anxiously for the Prime Minister whose eloquence would sway them with nationalistic fervour on this 150 th birth anniversary of Sardar Patel. “Is this unity?” Patel wondered looking at the gigantic version of himself. “Or inflation?” Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi chuckled standing beside Patel holding a biodegradable iPhone. “The world has changed, Sardar ji. They’ve built me in wax in London.” He looked amused. “We have become mere hashtags, I’d say.” That was Jawaharlal Nehru joining in a spirit of camaraderie. “I understand that in the world’s largest democracy now history is optional. Hashtags are mandatory.” “You know, Sardar ji,” Gandhi said with more amusement, “the PM has released a new coin and a stamp in your honour on your 150 th birth anniversary.”  “Ah, I watched the function too,” ...

The wisdom of the Mahabharata

Illustration by Gemini AI “Krishna touches my hand. If you can call it a hand, these pinpricks of light that are newly coalescing into the shape of fingers and palm. At his touch something breaks, a chain that was tied to the woman-shape crumpled on the snow below. I am buoyant and expansive and uncontainable – but I always was so, only I never knew it! I am beyond the name and gender and the imprisoning patterns of ego. And yet, for the first time, I’m truly Panchali. I reach with my other hand for Karna – how surprisingly solid his clasp! Above us our palace waits, the only one I’ve ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming and dissolving again like fireflies in a summer evening.” What is quoted above is the final paragraph of Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s novel The Palace of Illusions which I reread in the last few days merely because I had time on my hands and this book hap...