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 Posts: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L
Acknowledgement: All three images of Machiavelli in clerical costume are created magnanimously by Microsoft's AI: Copilot Designer
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.
ReplyDeleteThe beatings will continue until moral improves, for example. And there's a lot more to learn from Machiavelli.
DeleteMachiavelli still escapes my understanding ! Can there be anyone who has no job but to trouble someone who's gone thousands of miles away!??
ReplyDeleteOk, 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?
DeleteAnd the question "Do you agree that you are just muck, Tomichan?" was indeed faced by a devastated me. Really. The smirk was real too...
DeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteAhh, 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
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.
DeleteFor 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.
Hari OM
DeleteI 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
Your contribution in this space is precious, dear Yam. This above observation, for example.
DeleteI'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.
ReplyDeleteThat '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.
DeleteBut, 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.
Ah, on that, i'll say, maybe some better Karmic lot awaits in the next life. 😅
Delete😊
DeleteThat sounds like a very toxic individual.
ReplyDeleteWorse than that!
Delete//Anyone on this earth can appear like a lunatic if you watch him incessantly for a couple of days.//
ReplyDeleteDuring 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.
Indeed, Machiavellis rule us. They will never vanish from our specis. They keep flourishing.
DeleteI 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.
ReplyDeleteShillong isn't easy to write about for me because I had blundered a lot too.
Delete