Skip to main content

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 where a knife is driven into his heart and turned twice.

Pause for a moment, dear fellow traveller. I need to shed a sigh for Joseph K. Is not his story mine too? With the difference that the knife that pierced my breast was spiritual! Metaphorical, if you are still secular. The knife belonged to Reverend Machiavelli.

Who is Rev Machiavelli? You ask. How do I know? I was his helpless prisoner like Joseph K. He got an entire town to ogle me. Looks can kill, you know?

Have you ever watched one person, one particular person, continuously for a few days? If not, try it once. Then you will realise how silly people are. Their protean facial expressions, absurd gestures, churlish mannerisms, self-talks… You will be convinced the person is insane after watching him closely for two days. Anyone on this earth can appear like a lunatic if you watch him incessantly for a couple of days.

The easiest way to drive a person to his doom is to ask a community of people to stare at him for a few days. Make him feel that he is under constant observation. Rev Machiavelli was my Bigg Boss in those days. Shillong was the Kafkaesque Castle. Rev Machiavelli also added a bit of spice to that entertainment by blocking my water supply for years. Walk on with me on these miasmic streets and I will show you the rugged paths I traversed with a bucket of water in each hand braving the bitter cold of the hill’s wintry mornings. You harass someone in every which way possible and subject him to the close scrutiny of a whole population. The person will go insane within days. Rev Machiavelli knew it. He believed that it was his God-given mission to decimate sinners this way. People are more than eager to support Machiavellis because they love the fun, especially in a sterile hill station like Shillong where entertainments are few and far between.

Can you recall a nightmare of yours? You are there on your bed sleeping peacefully when a bizarre shape enters your bedroom and lies down beside you. The naked body of the bizarre shape rubs against you sending electric shocks into the marrow of your bones. It’s a rape with a difference. Only certain godly people can do it.

You want to ask that shape what it is, what it wants, why it is doing this to you… Nightmares don’t let you do any of that, however. Rendering you utterly helpless is the nature of nightmares. You lie there feeling the electric shocks deep inside your bones. You sweat. You writhe. You struggle. All in vain. The shape makes you a heap of rubbish soon. And then mocks you. And then stands up and calls you muck. Do you agree that you are just muck, Tomichan? It smirks. And vanishes into the air that is thick with the stench of your sweat.

You are free to name that shape anything. I call it Reverend Machiavelli. Because I noticed a clerical cassock flutter in the emptiness of the night’s sweat all too frequently. 

As you walk with me, I request you to take a look at the history of our religions too. Our gods were never kind or loving. That’s all lies, that religions are about love and kindness. Have you forgotten the millions of corpses that lay beneath the religious structures we passed by? Holy wars, Intifadas, burning of heretics and witches, fatwas, satis, ghar vapsis, reconstruction of temples, deconstruction of history… Religions are about power. Worldly power.

In the big halls, the men of gods come and go talking of love and kindness. They make people chant abracadabra.

You are free to join them. Joining them is safe. Convenient.

Or you can continue to walk with me. Do you dare? Dare to see the unpleasant truths behind the illusions and delusions?


PS. I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z 

Previous PostsA,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F,  G,  HIJ,  K, L

Acknowledgement: All three images of Machiavelli in clerical costume are created magnanimously by Microsoft's AI: Copilot Designer

Comments

  1. This is deja vu. I took out my old copy of Prince to read, yet to start it though. now, am really intrigued to see what I missed in Machiavelli.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The beatings will continue until moral improves, for example. And there's a lot more to learn from Machiavelli.

      Delete
  2. Machiavelli still escapes my understanding ! Can there be anyone who has no job but to trouble someone who's gone thousands of miles away!??

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ok, now imagine a missionary, M, who takes upon himself the task of reforming a prodigal son, T. M has political connections and other influences. He is arrogant too. Add to that the vengeance he nurtures in his heart because of T's writings that question his religion and god... Does something click now?

      Delete
    2. And the question "Do you agree that you are just muck, Tomichan?" was indeed faced by a devastated me. Really. The smirk was real too...

      Delete
  3. Hari OM
    Ahh, I think you know I walk the divide... and will again remind that it is the men, not the philosophy, that err. The evil was in the heart of the Rev - what made a devil of him was that he would have used the cover of his clothes and teachings to justify the perpetration of the acts you describe. Much as the current head of state now does... the hypocrisy, the manipulations, the avarice and hatred that emanates from some souls denigrates the very faith structures those souls claim devotion to; and yes, in that way, religious houses everywhere have become little more than clubs for the wicked. To have been an object toyed with by such as this surely must leave its mark and my heart aches some for the one who has had such experience. YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I agree with you, Yam, that the structures aren't all that bad. I know quite many religious people who are good, who tremendous lot of good to others.

      For a long time I tried to convince myself that it was I who was evil and the Rev was trying to save me in his own way. But as I learnt more about whatever happened in the place, I became increasingly hesitatnt about the good intentions of the man. Good people won't go to the extent he did just for the sake of reforming someone who wasn't all that bad.

      There's a lot I can say about this. But I don't want.That's why I wrote it in this way - a mix of reality and fiction. Moreover, what really remains in your heart as a pain can't be expressed in plain prose.

      Delete
    2. Hari OM
      I think this is the allure and conundrum of writing - that we can only every approximate any feeling and at no time can we ever provide the exact feeling or experience, for those are as individual as every living thing. This, I suppose, is why prose and poetry exist, as tools of extension and exploration but never the experience itself, providing something to touch others in some way. Sometimes we get close enough that others can identify some familiarity and from what is written, learn, grow - even experience catharsis and understanding for themselves. Writing is a healing medium! YAM xx

      Delete
    3. Your contribution in this space is precious, dear Yam. This above observation, for example.

      Delete
  4. I'm feeling a certain way reading this. To have been made to feel that way and be treated so, I don't know how i'd have dealt with it. Bright side? life lessons and such richness in your writing. I felt the pain acutely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That 'bright side' philosophy has been a joke for me. Once while we were having lunch in the Delhi school's dining hall, a colleague showed his tandoori roti to me. See how burnt it is, he said. I told him to look at the other side, and it was brighter indeed! My 'bright side' philosophy ended with situations like that.

      But, no doubt, I learnt a lot from my Shillong days. The only problem was that the 'beatings' went on too long unnecessarily - like flogging a dead horse.

      Delete
    2. Ah, on that, i'll say, maybe some better Karmic lot awaits in the next life. 😅

      Delete
  5. That sounds like a very toxic individual.

    ReplyDelete
  6. //Anyone on this earth can appear like a lunatic if you watch him incessantly for a couple of days.//
    During one of my discussions with my elder son, I said this, particularly, in the context of eccentrics like Gandhi, Bharathi :-) Apart from the context of this post, even if god comes to live with us, we'll look at him this way. Why this lunatic brush this way, not flushing toilets, snore while sleeping.......... :-)
    Machiavellism is toxic. It makes the environment and institution as poisonous. If one Machiavelli goes away, another Nachiavelli will come in.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Indeed, Machiavellis rule us. They will never vanish from our specis. They keep flourishing.

      Delete
  7. I read your autobiography long back when it came out. But did not give a review at that time since I had a feeling that something was missing. The initial part in Kerala was so open and revealing. The last part in Delhi although painful was openly shared. However, there was a shroud while relating the life in Shillong. Reference is there that it was "painful" but no incidents to justify or explain that position. During this A2Zchallenge you seem to be more revealing. Will go through all the posts to get a hang of that period. Best wishes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Shillong isn't easy to write about for me because I had blundered a lot too.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Ghost of a Banyan Tree

  Image from here Fiction Jaichander Varma could not sleep. It was past midnight and the world outside Jaichander Varma’s room was fairly quiet because he lived sufficiently far away from the city. Though that entailed a tedious journey to his work and back, Mr Varma was happy with his residence because it afforded him the luxury of peaceful and pure air. The city is good, no doubt. Especially after Mr Modi became the Prime Minister, the city was the best place with so much vikas. ‘Where’s vikas?’ Someone asked Mr Varma once. Mr Varma was offended. ‘You’re a bloody antinational mussalman who should be living in Pakistan ya kabristan,’ Mr Varma told him bluntly. Mr Varma was a proud Indian which means he was a Hindu Brahmin. He believed that all others – that is, non-Brahmins – should go to their respective countries of belonging. All Muslims should go to Pakistan and Christians to Rome (or is it Italy? Whatever. Get out of Bharat Mata, that’s all.) The lower caste Hindus co...

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

Romance in Utopia

Book Review Title: My Haven Author: Ruchi Chandra Verma Pages: 161 T his little novel is a surfeit of sugar and honey. All the characters that matter are young employees of an IT firm in Bengaluru. One of them, Pihu, 23 years and all too sweet and soft, falls in love with her senior colleague, Aditya. The love is sweetly reciprocated too. The colleagues are all happy, furthermore. No jealousy, no rivalry, nothing that disturbs the utopian equilibrium that the author has created in the novel. What would love be like in a utopia? First of all, there would be no fear or insecurity. No fear of betrayal, jealousy, heartbreak… Emotional security is an essential part of any utopia. There would be complete trust between partners, without the need for games or power struggles. Every relationship would be built on deep understanding, where partners complement each other perfectly. Miscommunication and misunderstanding would be rare or non-existent, as people would have heightened emo...

Tanishq and the Patriots

Patriots are a queer lot. You don’t know what all things can make them pick up the gun. Only one thing is certain apparently: the gun for anything. When the neighbouring country behaves like a hoard of bandicoots digging into our national borders, we will naturally take up the gun. But nowadays we choose to redraw certain lines on the map and then proclaim that not an inch of land has been lost. On the other hand, when a jewellery company brings out an ad promoting harmony between the majority and the minority populations, our patriots take up the gun. And shoot down the ad. Those who promote communal harmony are traitors in India today. The sacred duty of the genuine Indian patriot is to hate certain communities, rape their women, plunder their land, deny them education and other fundamental rights and basic requirements. Tanishq withdrew the ad that sought to promote communal harmony. The patriot’s gun won. Aapka Bharat Mahan. In the novel Black Hole which I’m writing there is...

A Lesson from Little Prince

I joined the #WriteAPageADay challenge of Blogchatter , as I mentioned earlier in another post. I haven’t succeeded in writing a page every day, though. But as long as you manage to write a minimum of 10,000 words in the month of Feb, Blogchatter is contented. I woke up this morning feeling rather vacant in the head, which happens sometimes. Whenever that happens to me but I do want to get on with what I should, I fall back on a book that has inspired me. One such book is Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince . I have wished time and again to meet Little Prince in person as the narrator of his story did. We might have interesting conversations like the ones that exist in the novel. If a sheep eats shrubs, will he also eat flowers? That is one of the questions raised by Little Prince [LP]. “A sheep eats whatever he meets,” the narrator answers. “Even flowers that have thorns?” LP is interested in the rose he has on his tiny planet. When he is told that the sheep will eat f...