Indian Society- a perspective

Before embarking on the adventurous exploration of a multi-hued entity such as the Indian society, let us see what a ‘society’ constitutes. The word is bandied about so freely that it can mean virtually anything, right from our immediate neighbors to some unknown person sitting thousands of miles away. It is supposed to be a group of people who are so concerned about us that our every step is supposed to elicit a reaction from them. We all think, before doing anything, “What will the society think?” So, a society is our invisible censor, our unseen reviewer and an indiscernible rewarder.

Our own society, remember, is much more than that. It is the way we think, our psyche, a mirror to our own selves. Our society is a reflection of who we really are. And that might not always be a pretty picture. From what we have observed recently, there is a lot of pervasive negativism. Our list of celebrities includes a porn star, an ex-moll of a gangster, a neurotic and a stripper. Soon, probably a match-fixer will join in. We accept anyone, as far as they donor affect us directly. So, watching Sunny Leone gyrate on vulgar songs is acceptable, but talking about sex education is a taboo. We are a society that bans young girls from wearing jeans because it entices men to rape, but gleefully ogle at the latest Poonam pandey video. We are a society that has the cleanest homes and the dirtiest streets. Metaphorical? Probably.

But, there must be something good about our society, right? Otherwise, how would anyone explain its massive stature, its power to dictate our actions and its ruthlessness in ostracizing those who do not toe its line?  The ‘good’ here refers to the comfort of the majority. The Indian society functions on the perceived majority opinion. So, anyone who obeys the conventional, the traditional is a part of the society, and anyone who doesn’t is a rebel, a rotten apple or a bad fish. But, as HenrikIbsen would tell you in An enemy of people, “The majority is never right. Never, I tell you. That’s one of these lies in society that no free and intelligent man can help rebelling against. Who are the people that make up the biggest proportion of the population- the intelligent ones or the foolish?”Probably he is right. Perhaps not. But, in order to understand the psyche of Indian society, one must try to decode how it functions.

A lot of people say that India is a cultural melting pot. This is where they are wrong. In a melting pot, all the ingredients lose their flavor to become one, to taste the same. And that taste might be absolutely delicious, but nobody will know which ingredient contributed what. India, actually, is like a salad bowl. Its every ingredient retains its distinct flavor and yet the taste of the full dish is equally delicious. So, a society that accepts Sunny Leone is also the same that accepts two great contemporary Pakistani singers- Atif Aslam and AdnanSami! For now, let us observe some of the quirks that set us apart from the rest of the world.

An interesting mirror to any society in the world, and including our own, is its cinema. Over the decades, our cinema, and more importantly, the antagonist of our movies has been a mirror to our societal trends. So, from 50s to 90s, the archetypical villain ranged from a greedy landlord to wealthy industrialist to a mafia don to ‘rich’ parents. All through, one thread was common- the villain was never poor. It indicates a general mistrust of us Indians towards the rich. We felt so angry and disillusioned when the recent match fixing scandal came up. Most of us said that the ‘money’ was the root of all evils, no matter how clichéd it sounded. But the same people never hesitate to offer or receive a bribe. But it’s acceptable as the amount exchanged is relatively paltry. When people are doing scams of hundreds of millions, where does a hundred rupee bribe hurt? So, we explore another side- our society can accept evil, depending upon the magnitude.

While we are exploring foundations, let’s explore another fascinating facet- religion. The word tends to evoke extreme reactions from all quarters. The atheists will be condemned by the believers who will condemn each other for believing in a God different from theirs. Yes, we all Indians have our own Gods. And we all have our own rituals to appease our Gods. And no matter how much we hold Them in reverence, They are also our favorite punching bag when things go wrong. Why do we tend to accuse the same One whom we pray fervently? Is it because we need someone to blame for our failures? If it’s true, then who better than God, whom nobody has seen, at least physically? But, there is something about religion that attracts us all. And that is something we all crave for- peace of mind. And that is the biggest strength of our society. We have Someone to turn to in the times of distress. We know there is Someone who will hold our hands and guide us, should we fall wayward. And that is the biggest strength of our society, perhaps the superglue that holds us all. A belief in the power that is beyond us. In India, our religion decides our name. Our religion decides our marriage. And our religion decides what will happen to us after we die. The very identity of most Indians is their religion, and that gives a distinct flavor to every Indian.

From the highs of heaven to a mystifying malady that we all suffer from- Akinetic mutism. No, not the actual medical syndrome, but just a curious variant of the same. In the original disease, a person can hear, see everything, but lacks the ability to mount a response. In the variant, people drive by someone who is injured on the road, and don’t do anything about it. People who didn’t rush to help a rape victim suffered from it. People who don’t raise their voice when subject to injustice suffer from it. And our society is full of such silent sufferers. The reason afforded is often that one should ‘adjust’ and move on. This curious case of every Indian is the reason that we have crimes against women, corrupt leaders and arrogant administrators. Because everyone who commits a crime, knows he can get away scot-free, since the people will be too busy being busy. Napoleon was right on target when he said that “The world suffers a lot, not because of the violence of bad people. But because of the silence of the good.” And, the values of non-violence being instilled in our veins, we always remain ‘good’, and let the evil rear its ugly head, praying that we be spared.

Our society needs change. And that change will not come from a superhero, but from within. We need to accept that our society, while being great, is far from perfect, and as its future components, we have to make sure it changes for the better. George Bernard Shaw echoes a similar sentiment when he says, “We must reform society before we can reform ourselves.”

Thirsty Land

A stretch of land, barren and parched,

Beholding a spectre of dark

Seeks soothage from the sweet scent

Which promises of rain does hark.

Years of use has made it bereft

Of all juice, life and will.

Whispering wishes of a wet whet

The barren land awaits its first till.

A breeze blows, gentle and cool

Carrying with it promises of rain

Recourse of relief ran through the land

On prospect of freedom from the dry pain.

Ah! An answer to the prayers,

The droughty mind of mine is drenched.

The drops of Divine blessings descend,

The cloud of Almighty showered, the earth of my soul is quenched.

-Shivam'da'

The Dissociation

Friends, here is a psychological thriller which is bound to set you thinking. Now avoiding further cliches, lets straight jump to the story. ;-)

A perfect life- well, that’s an illusion most of the human beings chase throughout their lives. What they do not know is that they are merely chasing the metaphorical gold at the end of the rainbow. Little do they realize how disappointed they will eventually be, when they won’t find their promised paradise. Well, this is not a metaphysical discussion on the finer aspects of happiness, of course! But allow me to indulge for a while. No? Okay, let’s meet a fascinating person to begin our story.

Ruttuja could feel her heart thumping. He was coming! It was only the fourth time that they were going out, but he had swept her completely off the feet. It wasn’t his liquid eyes, which spoke a lot, nor his silken voice or his gift of words, but his mere aura when he would sit beside him had made Ruttuja fall head over heels in love. As a psychologist, her mind should have analyzed him more. But love is a feeling that transcends the mind. It had all started six months ago, when Shyam had walked to her and asked her the address of Connaught place. It would not have been strange and funny if they were not standing right at the Connaught place itself. Realizing his foolishness, he smiled sheepishly and mumbled forgiveness. And then, he suddenly turned back and asked her to join him for a coffee, as he was alone. A nervous Ruttuja replied that her boyfriend was waiting for her.

“I know you are single, alone and half-thinking of joining me now,” he said calmly, his liquid eyes piercing into hers. He was right, and half hour later, they were both laughing they time away, sipping cold coffee and chocolate milk shake. It was the beginning of their story. It only progressed further over the next two meetings, at Connaught place again, when they slipped hands into one another and locked eyes, gazing at each other for long periods until their eyes started burning.

Ruttuja glanced at her watch. He was late, again! He had this annoying habit of turning up late and changing her annoyance into love. And she could feel it blossoming again as Shyam alighted from his car and walked towards her and embraced her tightly. It was one of the most secure and safe moments of her life, being in the strong arms of someone she truly loved.

“I love you, Ruttu!” Shyam whispered in her ear as he put her down.

“I love you too sweetheart!” she cooed back.

“Listen, I want to marry you!”

“What?” Ruttuja was shocked. She didn’t expect him to talk of marriage so soon. She was yet to inform her parents about Shyam.

“Yes, I am serious. I will be transferred to another place soon. And I don’t want to leave Delhi without my love.”

Ruttuja considered her options. Convincing her parents was not an issue. They would not stop her if they found Shyam to be a decent, cultured man that he already was, and with a fat pay package that he already had. But she needed to be sure of it first. Oh, if only she had Netri beside her. She would have known what to do. But, the mere thought of Netri brought out tears from her eyes.

“What happened darling? If you are not sure about this, lets not do it,” Shyam said, wiping her tears.

“That’s not the matter honey. I am missing Netri, my best friend.”

“Why? Where is she now?”

“No more. She was brutally murdered by her ex-boyfriend last year. I can still see her face, her beautiful face bloodied by that animal who cut her head off! She hadn’t shown me his photo either. Wanted it to be a surprise. And now…” Tears welled up in her eyes again.

Shyam sat down. He knew it would not be appropriate to interfere. He kissed her on the forehead and said, “Sweetheart, probably she will guide you from the heavens above. Ask your heart, and it will give you the right answer.”

Time passed, nay, flew by. A fortnight had passed since Shyam’s proposal. Ruttija finally mustered enough courage to ask her parents. As expected, they first asked about Shyam’s job, his pay, his family. Ruttuja replied that he was an orphan, and worked in a multinational company with a five figure salary. The credentials seemed to satisfy Ruttuja’s father and he told his beaming daughter to call her chosen one for lunch the following day.

“Hey Shammu!” Ruttuja cooed.

“Yes, Ruttu!”

“I talked to dad, and guess what? He has agreed to meet you tomorrow for lunch!”

“That’s really great, Ruttu. I am confident our relation will go all the way!”

“Me too, sweetu!”

It would be too much saccharine to describe the meeting between the prospective father-in-law and the prospective son-in-law. But, sticking to the traditions, most of the laughs were artificial, most smiles fake and most compliments appeasing. However, it is the expected behavior and usually, the conventional stands a chance in the society of the unthinking. To cut the long story short, Ruttuja’s father gave his consent for the relation and the engagement was fixed a week later.

The stage was set. The partners-to-be were ready. She was blushing, he was beaming at her. Shyam didn’t have many friends in Delhi except his room partner at the apartment. It he who had selected the engagement ring. Soon, Shyam fished out the ring and was about to slide it down Ruttuja’s finger when there was a sound of the police siren. Soon, ten-odd policemen entered the hall and pointed their guns at Shyam. Shyam was too dazed to move. It had all happened too fast for him. Just as he was about to speak something, another man, this time in plain clothes, entered the hall in a wheel chair and pointed a shaking finger towards Shyam, and said, “Yes sir. He is the one who murdered Netri and maimed me!”

First there was silence. But, just like the impending rupture of a volcano, it was soon broken by a mayhem. Everyone was at their feet, trying to escape the scene of indictment, as if it were an infection that they would catch if they stayed a moment longer. Unfortunately for them, the police had sealed the area and no guest was allowed to leave till the arrest of the culpable was made. The culpable, in this case, was Shyam. No, probably he was someone else, according to the man on the wheelchair, “His name is Vishal!” he shouted, still the accusing, trembling finger pointed at the bewildered fiancé-to-be.

It was not a pretty sight, most certainly not, having to witness a man in tuxedo being handcuffed and dragged to a jail, with his engagement ring still in his hands. But, such is the travesty of fate. Shyam could only look helplessly at Ruttuja whose eyes spewed fury, shock and grief. Shyam’s parting words were a plea to Ruttuja, “Please save me Ruttu! I am innocent!” Expectedly, she didn’t pay any heed.

After two days of arduous and torturous questioning, to which Shyam gave the same answer, “I do not know anything!” he saw his horizon of hope in the form of Ruttuja. She walked up to the inspector and stated that she wanted to meet Shyam in private. The inspector had all the reasons to refuse, but could not stand the determined stare in her eyes and the badge of the government approved forensic psychologist in her hand. “Only ten minutes,” he mumbled, before letting her in his cell. Ruttuja indicated the constable to close the door of the solitary isolation room.

“Shyam, I need to talk to you.”

“Trust me Ruttu, I am innocent. I don’t even know that person, or your friend, except on the day you spoke to me about her.”

“I know it Shyam. Thing is, you have suffered from something the psychologists call dissociative fugue.”

“Fyoog? Whats that?” a somewhat confused-looking Shyam asked. He had heard the word for the first time in his life and didn’t even know how to speak it.

“Yes. Fugue. In this condition, following a traumatic event, a person forgets his past, and wanders to an unknown place, assuming a new identity,” Ruttuja spoke through gritted teeth. It was mentally impossible for her to accept that the person she was loving was not in his true self, but an imposter of his own self.

“But…me? What event?” Shyam looked thoroughly confused. He preferred the tough questioning of the police to this psychological jargon.

Ruttuja took a deep breath, battled a few tears and continued, “You are Vishal. Vishal Singh, a resident of Delhi. I talked to that in the wheelchair for two days. He told me everything.”

“What? You mean, I am not Shyam? You mean I am someone else?”

“Yes, Shyam…er, Vishal. Now, please hear me out very carefully. You were having an affair with Netri, my friend, and you were about to be engaged. One day before the engagement, you decided to pay a surprise visit to Netri’s place with a bouquet. It was there that you found her in the bed with your best friend, Prateek. Something snapped within you, and your eyes showed an unseen madness, you picked up the knife and…and…” Ruttuja could no longer hold back her tears. It was too much for her to imagine her beloved Shyam decapitating her best friend and stabbing the leg of Prateek, maiming him for life, before running away. It was a disorder she had only studied in college, but living it was a different matter altogether.

“Ruttu, I have no memory of what happened. Please, help me. I even do not know whether I committed the murder!” Shyam pleaded.

“You did commit a murder Shyam. But, we will have to ascertain whether you did it in your right mind.” It was the most excruciating moment for Ruttuja. She was about to make a plan to save the murderer of her best friend. But deep down, she believed that Netri deserved to die. She was about to call off the engagement the following day as she had found, in Prateek, a much richer man. And she also knew about Shyam’s history of depression, fully aware that any such action on her part would send Shyam into suicidal depression. Unfortunately, something opposite happened and both Netri and Prateek paid for it.

“But how will you save me? The inspector kept on saying something about a cognizable offence, meaning I won’t be able to get bail either!” Shyam asked worriedly. The new developments had him worried. He still didn’t know how he had killed his own fiancée and maimed his best friend, or why would her fiancée sleep with his best friend. Life had suddenly become very complicated for him to understand.

“I am going to ask the Inspector-in-charge to allow you to spend just one night with me. And before you think of anything naughty, it’s for our hypnosis session. We will know the truth in the hypnosis. I am here by appointing myself as your official counselor,” Ruttuja spoke as she was leaving the room. After an interminable wait of fifteen minutes, the constable came into the room and told that Shyam was free for the night. Ruttuja was very difficult to beat in persuasion. He knew it by experience.

It was close to nine at night when they reached Ruttuja’s place. She was alone, as her parents had gone to their relative’s place for dinner. Ruttuja had not told them of her plan. She didn’t intend to marry Shyam anyways. But she wanted to see that justice was delivered to him in the correct manner.

“Now, Shyam, I would like you to lie on the couch and close your eyes,” she began. And then, the rest of the night panned out in an interesting way. What happened was much different than Ruttuja had thought, and she would probably have only her uncontrollable urge and instincts to blame. It would be too dreary to write about it all, and too impossible for me to expect that you will pay attention to every word of mine. The next day’s headlines, however, said it all:

The new Bikini killer strikes again after 6 months. Victim is a forensic psychiatrist.

The hottest place on earth- a facebook political debate

Temperature of human body- 36.5-37.5 degree celsius.

Temperature of earth’s core-  6000 degree celsius

Temperature of sun’s core- 15.7 million degree celsius.

Temperature of a political debate on facebook- Even higher than that.

Last few months have seen the term ‘argumentative Indian’ take on a new meaning altogether. Now its more the ‘arguing Indian’, the ‘quarreling Indian’, the ‘bitching Indian’.  I was drawn into some of these debates voluntarily, hoping to provide an alternate view to many radical points. As it turned out, not only that I was labelled a rabid supporter of a particular party, I also found myself lowering my previously high standards of debating to ridiculous levels. GB Shaw had rightly said, “Do not wrestle with a pig. You will get dirty, and the pig will enjoy it.” Sometimes I was the wrestler, sometimes, the pig. But, one thing now intrigues me- why did I, or any other debator, who is also pretty well educated, fall to such ridiculous levels?

I do not have the answer, honestly. I can only wonder. Logically, there is no reason to be driven so much. Less than 10 percent of the electorate is active on facebook.  Of those, even lesser are in a particular debate group (306 members in a group I am active on), and of those hardly 1 person might be there whose opinion will change after listening to an argument, no matter how valid. And, we all are not even gonna benefit directly from changing that ubiquitous ONE person. Then, why? My probable theory says that most us are first time voters (in the last national elections, my vote card wasn’t ready). It gives a sense of fulfillment if we are arguing on the behalf of the one we support, thinking that we are doing something for the nation. It is not true, my friends. We will achieve a lot more if we stop posting rude comments on facebook and promise to excel in our respective fields. Of the 306 members in the political group, it wont make a difference if one AAP supporter changes alliance to BJP or vice versa. But it will make a difference if all 306 decide to be honest and excellent in their respective fields, irrespective of who gets elected.

Friends, we have to realize that bad-mouthing each other by politicians is often for political gains. A member of Congress can’t say anything good about Modi and vice versa.  It doesn’t mean that we, the brighter minds should get swayed and start bad-mouthing each other, thinking that this will make us better. We must not become like the people we are going to elect. We have to be better. Negative politics has brought India on its knees today. Everywhere we see only hatred flowing out, and the current situation is a mexican standoff between Congress, AAP and BJP. It doesn’t mean that our peace of mind, our precious time should become collateral damage. It’s a constitutional right to speak what we feel right. So its not wrong if we promote a particular party, but is it right to deride others for not supporting your views? If you have a point which is valid, tres bien. But if someone has a counter-point, you need not get all worked up and call the other person an agent of that party. Utterly not done. 

We Indians are guilty of being extreme most of the time. We often see the world in black and white. So, if we support one candidate he has to be perfect. And more than that, everybody else has to be bad. Why? Why can’t we accept the positives of Arvind Kejriwal and Narendra Modi? Why does a Kejriwal supporter get worked up and start spewing fire when somebody trolls him? Or why does a Modi supporter starts abusing the moment somebody says anything against Modi? We all live in an egalitarian society where everybody has their views, and everybody hopes their views be respected.  Life isnt about finding whats black and white. Life is about finding the right shade of grey.

We are educated, sensible people, friends. If we behave like immature children or hooligans, the country will suffer. No matter who is elected, remember, you support India, and not Kejriwal or Modi. Let the gaalis flow between the politicians coz its their job. Let us join hands to rebuild the nation, coz that OUR  job.

Jai Hind.