Human beings are a peculiar lot….some think they know everything, some believe they are learning continuously. The people who belong to the latter group are the ones who are in most danger of living in a delusionary world….a world where you feel though you are learning you have already learnt more than what you need to know…that is the greatest ignorance in fact. They are even more egoistic than the former group. Why? Because the former think they know better than anybody else and try to bull-doze their way while the latter know they are better then this set of know-alls so their ego is even supersized.
I think I belonged to the latter category.
Pretending….pretending to be someone you are not, craving for people’s attention and approval until you are no longer true to yourself, deluding yourself that you are so much more special and different than others, parading yourself until you are actually making a fool of yourself without realizing it.
I used to be this shy, little book worm….living in my own little world. I grew up to be a studious student but extremely shy and self conscious.
With passage of time I started opening up and after I joined my first job as a journalist I made friends, met interesting people, started to travel, mingle more with society.
Then I started being more confident, outgoing and talkative. Exposure to the outside world and official trips outside the country. Independence and financial security. Appreciation and favourable criticism from various quarters. Then the changes started……
I don’t know how it happened….it started slowly, subtly…..I don’t know how I could change so much…I never realized it until recently….When I look back I see it all now….the attitude- all those “witty” wisecracks intended to impress, the over smart remarks and rejoinders in un-necessary situations, the strutting and posing, the “care-a-damn” stance, the slangs and cuss words ( although used covertly), ridiculing others, cracking mean jokes about people just to get a cheap kick, the sly glances and sarcastic smirks especially while observing others, bad mannered chuckling in company…………
I never knew how bad the situation had really become…..I thought I was being admired when all I was doing was making an ass of myself. Artificiality, superfluosness, showing off, acting, superiority complex….hell, what had I become?
When did I lose touch with myself? My inner self?
When did this descent into delusionary madness begin?
The ego, the condescension, the spiritual pride, the vanity?
I don’t know, even as I write this whether I am really free of the grip of these vices now, but I am glad that I have made this realization. It does not pay to pretend, it does not pay to be someone you are not.
If people like you for what you are it is good. It is great if people appreciate the real you, if they are impressed with YOU, the real YOU.
If they are not, it does no good to pretend. You can take constructive steps to improve on your shortcomings, you can develop yourself in the best possible ways but that is all you can strive to do. That will improve you and maybe you may even earn appreciation but that is it.
Donning another persona just to impress people is equivalent to being a hypocrite.
And at the end a hypocrite never ever wins.
Friday, July 2, 2010
WHERE IS THE LOVE?
Idealism sounds like a bad idea in today’s practical world filled with practical people. And virtues like love, spirituality and loyalty are scoffed at; people who try to hang onto their principles and salvage the last remnants of sanity are ridiculed, considered freaks or simply considered as lagging behind in the process of human evolution.
In a world where heinous crimes are committed without batting an eyelid and where countries rise against each other, where the poor are exploited, the innocent made scape-goats and the already terrorized are hunted down, I would not be surprised to witness a conflict of interest or friction between political parties and other such divisions but what I witnessed at the Wagha Border in Amritsar, the border town between India and Pakistan during my recent visit there was something which not only thoroughly disappointed me but even drove me to the point of despair despite being aware of the fact that this is a practical world.
I was perturbed by the open hostility displayed by the Indians as they howled, shouted and jeered to show their disdain and contempt for the Pakistanis on the other side of the border as soon as they had finished their ostentatious show of gyrating to loud and supposedly patriotic music. Most of the dancers were young women and a few were really flaunting their stuff. It appeared more like a vulgar night show in a disco than lobbying for the good name of your country.
And what disgusted me more by this so called “program” (as the Indians there called it) was that, the authorities organizing this “program” was the government. There were the soldiers parading, strutting, and kicking into the air while the head or coordinator (whatever) of the whole thing who looked very much like a well educated, civilized man was encouraging and driving the already wild and angry mocking crowd to fever pitch agitation by gesticulating and shouting for more noise, roars and claps. Sick.
I could not really see how the Pakistanis were acting in the situation but it seems even they were holding a similar “program” of their own in an open show of ill-disguised ire.
After all the diplomacy and sweet dialogue of friendship shared by the two countries and advertised so aptly by the media you would expect them to show the same tact in reality which sadly was missing undoubtedly in this shameful scene.
If the authorities who can turn the flow of public opinion and thus change the tide of events themselves resort to such cheap gimmicks, I really can’t imagine to what extent the future generations especially the easily influenced sections of the society like the illiterate people and youth would go to.
I could not help wondering if the authorities brainwashing these people were at fault, whether the people themselves were completely free of blame because they had managed to fan and keep alive the fires of communal discord even after so many years, so many lost lives, lost homes and after so much blood-shed and tears.
And I ask myself whether we in Bhutan will also come to face such a situation one day- the signs are already there- we derogatorily call each other “Bhoteys” and “Bjaghas." If a Lhotshampha or Drukpa causes us some inconvenience, we promptly swear and take sides depending on which ethnicity we belong to. It is as if just because we have different ethnic or racial origins, we are superior or inferior to each other when first and fore most-we are just human beings. Simple human -beings. Vulnerable human beings. Mortal human beings. And above all human beings who need each other to survive happily.
And at the end it is only that which really matters.
In a world where heinous crimes are committed without batting an eyelid and where countries rise against each other, where the poor are exploited, the innocent made scape-goats and the already terrorized are hunted down, I would not be surprised to witness a conflict of interest or friction between political parties and other such divisions but what I witnessed at the Wagha Border in Amritsar, the border town between India and Pakistan during my recent visit there was something which not only thoroughly disappointed me but even drove me to the point of despair despite being aware of the fact that this is a practical world.
I was perturbed by the open hostility displayed by the Indians as they howled, shouted and jeered to show their disdain and contempt for the Pakistanis on the other side of the border as soon as they had finished their ostentatious show of gyrating to loud and supposedly patriotic music. Most of the dancers were young women and a few were really flaunting their stuff. It appeared more like a vulgar night show in a disco than lobbying for the good name of your country.
And what disgusted me more by this so called “program” (as the Indians there called it) was that, the authorities organizing this “program” was the government. There were the soldiers parading, strutting, and kicking into the air while the head or coordinator (whatever) of the whole thing who looked very much like a well educated, civilized man was encouraging and driving the already wild and angry mocking crowd to fever pitch agitation by gesticulating and shouting for more noise, roars and claps. Sick.
I could not really see how the Pakistanis were acting in the situation but it seems even they were holding a similar “program” of their own in an open show of ill-disguised ire.
After all the diplomacy and sweet dialogue of friendship shared by the two countries and advertised so aptly by the media you would expect them to show the same tact in reality which sadly was missing undoubtedly in this shameful scene.
If the authorities who can turn the flow of public opinion and thus change the tide of events themselves resort to such cheap gimmicks, I really can’t imagine to what extent the future generations especially the easily influenced sections of the society like the illiterate people and youth would go to.
I could not help wondering if the authorities brainwashing these people were at fault, whether the people themselves were completely free of blame because they had managed to fan and keep alive the fires of communal discord even after so many years, so many lost lives, lost homes and after so much blood-shed and tears.
And I ask myself whether we in Bhutan will also come to face such a situation one day- the signs are already there- we derogatorily call each other “Bhoteys” and “Bjaghas." If a Lhotshampha or Drukpa causes us some inconvenience, we promptly swear and take sides depending on which ethnicity we belong to. It is as if just because we have different ethnic or racial origins, we are superior or inferior to each other when first and fore most-we are just human beings. Simple human -beings. Vulnerable human beings. Mortal human beings. And above all human beings who need each other to survive happily.
And at the end it is only that which really matters.
WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF INTELLECTUAL SNOBS
I will be candid: There exist few intellectuals but more than a few intellectual snobs.
Who are they? Books, you name it and they have read it (As for me, I did not even have the patience to go through Salman Rushdie’s “Midnight’s Children.” I thought it was a “heavy book”, most of my high school days being spent reading Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel and Barbara Cartland).
Those who throw you a pitying glance as they ask “You haven’t read THAT book?” Makes you wither with shame and question yourself“ Am I still living in the Ice- Ages?” as the other supposed intellectuals in the group cluck sympathetically whilst rapidly enumerating various other titles or authors you haven’t had the fortune or misfortune to hear of. Sounds like the names of extra-terrestrials to me.
In fact this has become a fashion statement for those who want to flaunt their brains (and a serious lack of humility). That does not mean there aren’t a few who read for the pure pleasure of it or to add to their storehouse of knowledge or to put it simply “for the joy of learning” but to boast that you have actually completed reading the whole set of classics including the modern ones before you passed 8th grade or the ones touted as best-sellers just “hot off the shelf”….there you go…intellectual snobbery at its best.
And you know what the scary part of this world is? The fact that in due time you get influenced…influenced by all this….parading your qualifications, the countless number of books you claim to have read, hungering for approval as you give your rehearsed comments, trying to gain a foothold in the coveted “class” of “extraordinary” brains, seeking to impress people especially the less educated and being condescending towards them……the ride of the ego can turn dangerous if unchecked by the desire to be an authentic individual, more so an authentic intellectual.
Round table discussions may sound impressive, so do facts and figures, so does rattling off the names of exotic literary works but our motives come into question. A very thin line separates intellectual fulfillment from intellectual snobbery.
Who are they? Books, you name it and they have read it (As for me, I did not even have the patience to go through Salman Rushdie’s “Midnight’s Children.” I thought it was a “heavy book”, most of my high school days being spent reading Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel and Barbara Cartland).
Those who throw you a pitying glance as they ask “You haven’t read THAT book?” Makes you wither with shame and question yourself“ Am I still living in the Ice- Ages?” as the other supposed intellectuals in the group cluck sympathetically whilst rapidly enumerating various other titles or authors you haven’t had the fortune or misfortune to hear of. Sounds like the names of extra-terrestrials to me.
In fact this has become a fashion statement for those who want to flaunt their brains (and a serious lack of humility). That does not mean there aren’t a few who read for the pure pleasure of it or to add to their storehouse of knowledge or to put it simply “for the joy of learning” but to boast that you have actually completed reading the whole set of classics including the modern ones before you passed 8th grade or the ones touted as best-sellers just “hot off the shelf”….there you go…intellectual snobbery at its best.
And you know what the scary part of this world is? The fact that in due time you get influenced…influenced by all this….parading your qualifications, the countless number of books you claim to have read, hungering for approval as you give your rehearsed comments, trying to gain a foothold in the coveted “class” of “extraordinary” brains, seeking to impress people especially the less educated and being condescending towards them……the ride of the ego can turn dangerous if unchecked by the desire to be an authentic individual, more so an authentic intellectual.
Round table discussions may sound impressive, so do facts and figures, so does rattling off the names of exotic literary works but our motives come into question. A very thin line separates intellectual fulfillment from intellectual snobbery.
THE LOVE SONG
Hunger for love and acceptance is a primeval craving in human beings, an inborn instinct, a powerful driving force.
How else do you explain the tears of a growing child who has been snubbed by his play-mates? Or the depressive withdrawals of a teenager who is taunted by her peers as being “weird” or different from them? Or the broken heartedness of a budding Romeo when his muse fails to respond to his declarations of everlasting love?
Or who can fathom the pain and self-questioning despair of a married woman jilted by her husband? Or the grief and silent suffering of an old couple whose children have abandoned them in pursuit of their own overwhelming interests?
Isn’t it because every person wants to love and be loved? Every person needs a kind word, a gesture of sympathy or some kind of solidarity once in a while, if not every time.
A little bit of love and approval shown by something as mundane as a simple compliment or a smile can do wonders.
Take a good look around you. Do you see that scowling stranger whom you meet every day at the park? Well, he may have that look on his face because his wife nags him at home and his boss gives him hell at work. Why don’t you go and make small talk? After all you see each other everyday, right? You falter? Okay, just go hang around him a bit, and when he gives you that grim look of his, flash him a smile…Chances are he may ignore you but the better and most probable thing he may do is smile back at you. There! He will feel better and you even better for making someone else’s mood better! Worth it, right?
Okay, let us go to work ourselves. The alarm did not ring, you are late for work and the boss is not exactly smiling at you as you enter through the office door. Worse, he grills you on work (not) done. You fume, you fret. You badly wanted to impress him since you joined the company. Since you can’t stick out your tongue at your boss and ask him to go to hell (not to his face, at least I would not do that) you explode at your colleague whom you had always found mildly irritating but used to humor anyway.
See the point? People are always hungering for approval, acceptance and love either in family, at work, in schools, anywhere and when they don’t get it, they react in different ways.
Some withdraw into their shells, some turn into raging bulls ready to gore down anyone in their way, some become show-offs because they feel inadequate, some go into manic depression, and some may resort to self-destructive habits or even go to the extent of manhandling others.
All these are varied reactions. But why? Most of the time it is because THEY ARE HURTING. And hurting bad. When you find yourself unaccepted by your own and especially by someone you love, whose affection or opinion you value, it hurts. Bad.
So what do we do, you ask? We can’t become saints and love and compliment every Tom, Dick and Harry we meet, right? No, of course not!! That is impossible, impractical. But we can start in small ways, right? At least within our sphere, our circle? That is not too much to ask for especially when we and the people we care for will be the greatest beneficiaries.
First thing, love God. I am not an atheist neither am I an agnostic. I am a Christian and I think that is the greatest blessing in my life. Love God, yes. And those of you who are either rolling your eyes or yawning, hold on.
I will not tell you to believe what I am saying…you can give me the benefit of doubt, I don’t mind. Not at all. But let me at least tell you that I love God because God loved me first and the fact that He is always there for me, not as some kind of unfeeling energy unleashed from somewhere in space, not some autocratic power ready to swallow me up, BUT a feeling, a loving, a compassionate yet a holy and intelligent supreme being, some one whom I can talk to, confide in, pray to….and BEST who is always there for me…well, that is one wonder I can never get used to, fellas.
Anyways, to get back to the point, when you are hurting, you question yourself, you question others, you question the whole world…..but loving God helps you love yourself and others.
Strange? Not at all.
When I love God, I know God loves me too. So being accepted by SOMEONE as perfect as God makes me love myself. I feel cherished, cared for, protected.
Now, the other part.
When you are not accepted, you lose self –respect, confidence, self-esteem. You may start indulging in self-pity (which is a costly indulgence if I may say, speaking from experience). Then when you don’t love yourself (not to the point of narcissism or egoism, there is a difference), you find it very tough to love others.
You may develop an aversion for company or you will go to any lengths to win approval or attention.
“I don’t think he loves me for what I am, it is better to avoid him”
Or
“I don’t think he loves me for what I am. Maybe I should act like this, do this, be this….”
Got my point? Ultimately you turn reclusive or you go to the other extreme and become clingy and desperate, which is not love, it is DEPENDENCE. Or you try to act different, try to be someone you are not or you just try to stand out in a crowd.
Then hurting others and yourself stems from the same malaise-you are in pain.
“They don’t care for me so why should I?”
OR
“I am a hateful person. Nobody cares for me.”
What is the best way to deal with such pain? Raw wounds, a dull ache or fading scars which are still sensitive to the touch?
I think the prescription is simple. LOVE.
You love others when you love yourself first. And to do both you have to love GOD. Simple.
So the next time you feel like pouncing on someone or launching a tirade, stop. Is he doing this to me intentionally? Or is it because he does not understand my point of view? Is it because I have done something wrong which I am unable to accept? Or is it because he is hurting?
And the next time you hate yourself, think. I have done something very wrong but I am human, fallible and when God has assured me of forgiveness, I think I should forgive myself too. I will try not to repeat this mistake. Or I will try to make amends.
Even as I write this, my friends, I tell you I myself can’t practice everything I have written all the time. When I don’t get approval or love from those I expect, I fall into various pitfalls myself but then I do think and TRY.
And trying always leads to growth. Learning. It is dynamism.
It doesn’t hurt to try.
Millions around the world are starving for physical nourishment similarly a lot of us are starving for love, a little bit of love and acceptance.
Are you one of them? Or is someone near you? Reach out. You can make a difference.
P.S. While hungering for love and approval is natural as I said earlier, it is good to learn some discretion. We can’t please every body. That is a well known fact. And while not being approved by some one not very dear to us may not cause much pain, there will be situations where how much ever we may try to be loved by a loved one he/she may not respond or understand. In such a case, you just have to move on….Human beings are just that- human beings…they are not the easiest creatures to deal with. But look UP- find comfort in God’s perfect unchanging love. (Because ultimately only HE is the greatest Lover).
KEEP THE FAITH :)
How else do you explain the tears of a growing child who has been snubbed by his play-mates? Or the depressive withdrawals of a teenager who is taunted by her peers as being “weird” or different from them? Or the broken heartedness of a budding Romeo when his muse fails to respond to his declarations of everlasting love?
Or who can fathom the pain and self-questioning despair of a married woman jilted by her husband? Or the grief and silent suffering of an old couple whose children have abandoned them in pursuit of their own overwhelming interests?
Isn’t it because every person wants to love and be loved? Every person needs a kind word, a gesture of sympathy or some kind of solidarity once in a while, if not every time.
A little bit of love and approval shown by something as mundane as a simple compliment or a smile can do wonders.
Take a good look around you. Do you see that scowling stranger whom you meet every day at the park? Well, he may have that look on his face because his wife nags him at home and his boss gives him hell at work. Why don’t you go and make small talk? After all you see each other everyday, right? You falter? Okay, just go hang around him a bit, and when he gives you that grim look of his, flash him a smile…Chances are he may ignore you but the better and most probable thing he may do is smile back at you. There! He will feel better and you even better for making someone else’s mood better! Worth it, right?
Okay, let us go to work ourselves. The alarm did not ring, you are late for work and the boss is not exactly smiling at you as you enter through the office door. Worse, he grills you on work (not) done. You fume, you fret. You badly wanted to impress him since you joined the company. Since you can’t stick out your tongue at your boss and ask him to go to hell (not to his face, at least I would not do that) you explode at your colleague whom you had always found mildly irritating but used to humor anyway.
See the point? People are always hungering for approval, acceptance and love either in family, at work, in schools, anywhere and when they don’t get it, they react in different ways.
Some withdraw into their shells, some turn into raging bulls ready to gore down anyone in their way, some become show-offs because they feel inadequate, some go into manic depression, and some may resort to self-destructive habits or even go to the extent of manhandling others.
All these are varied reactions. But why? Most of the time it is because THEY ARE HURTING. And hurting bad. When you find yourself unaccepted by your own and especially by someone you love, whose affection or opinion you value, it hurts. Bad.
So what do we do, you ask? We can’t become saints and love and compliment every Tom, Dick and Harry we meet, right? No, of course not!! That is impossible, impractical. But we can start in small ways, right? At least within our sphere, our circle? That is not too much to ask for especially when we and the people we care for will be the greatest beneficiaries.
First thing, love God. I am not an atheist neither am I an agnostic. I am a Christian and I think that is the greatest blessing in my life. Love God, yes. And those of you who are either rolling your eyes or yawning, hold on.
I will not tell you to believe what I am saying…you can give me the benefit of doubt, I don’t mind. Not at all. But let me at least tell you that I love God because God loved me first and the fact that He is always there for me, not as some kind of unfeeling energy unleashed from somewhere in space, not some autocratic power ready to swallow me up, BUT a feeling, a loving, a compassionate yet a holy and intelligent supreme being, some one whom I can talk to, confide in, pray to….and BEST who is always there for me…well, that is one wonder I can never get used to, fellas.
Anyways, to get back to the point, when you are hurting, you question yourself, you question others, you question the whole world…..but loving God helps you love yourself and others.
Strange? Not at all.
When I love God, I know God loves me too. So being accepted by SOMEONE as perfect as God makes me love myself. I feel cherished, cared for, protected.
Now, the other part.
When you are not accepted, you lose self –respect, confidence, self-esteem. You may start indulging in self-pity (which is a costly indulgence if I may say, speaking from experience). Then when you don’t love yourself (not to the point of narcissism or egoism, there is a difference), you find it very tough to love others.
You may develop an aversion for company or you will go to any lengths to win approval or attention.
“I don’t think he loves me for what I am, it is better to avoid him”
Or
“I don’t think he loves me for what I am. Maybe I should act like this, do this, be this….”
Got my point? Ultimately you turn reclusive or you go to the other extreme and become clingy and desperate, which is not love, it is DEPENDENCE. Or you try to act different, try to be someone you are not or you just try to stand out in a crowd.
Then hurting others and yourself stems from the same malaise-you are in pain.
“They don’t care for me so why should I?”
OR
“I am a hateful person. Nobody cares for me.”
What is the best way to deal with such pain? Raw wounds, a dull ache or fading scars which are still sensitive to the touch?
I think the prescription is simple. LOVE.
You love others when you love yourself first. And to do both you have to love GOD. Simple.
So the next time you feel like pouncing on someone or launching a tirade, stop. Is he doing this to me intentionally? Or is it because he does not understand my point of view? Is it because I have done something wrong which I am unable to accept? Or is it because he is hurting?
And the next time you hate yourself, think. I have done something very wrong but I am human, fallible and when God has assured me of forgiveness, I think I should forgive myself too. I will try not to repeat this mistake. Or I will try to make amends.
Even as I write this, my friends, I tell you I myself can’t practice everything I have written all the time. When I don’t get approval or love from those I expect, I fall into various pitfalls myself but then I do think and TRY.
And trying always leads to growth. Learning. It is dynamism.
It doesn’t hurt to try.
Millions around the world are starving for physical nourishment similarly a lot of us are starving for love, a little bit of love and acceptance.
Are you one of them? Or is someone near you? Reach out. You can make a difference.
P.S. While hungering for love and approval is natural as I said earlier, it is good to learn some discretion. We can’t please every body. That is a well known fact. And while not being approved by some one not very dear to us may not cause much pain, there will be situations where how much ever we may try to be loved by a loved one he/she may not respond or understand. In such a case, you just have to move on….Human beings are just that- human beings…they are not the easiest creatures to deal with. But look UP- find comfort in God’s perfect unchanging love. (Because ultimately only HE is the greatest Lover).
KEEP THE FAITH :)
SOMETIMES...
Sometimes it hurts more to be loved than to love
Sometimes a loved one can be your greatest foe
Sometimes you just can’t be black or white,
Sometimes life can offer you two options- both of which you may not like but must choose from
Sometimes you have to cry not for the good things missing in your life but the life missing in good things you have
Sometimes you want to die because you hate life but there are those who are willing to live so that others can love life
Sometimes reality can be harsh but illusion much harsher
Sometimes it is good to help others grow but it is better if you let them grow
Sometimes sympathy can be good but empathy better
Sometimes tears and smiles are more eloquent than words
Sometimes glamour is beautiful but simplicity lovely
Sometimes beauty can win, charm always does
Sometimes fighting back is good but forbearance deadlier
Sometimes love means release
Sometimes happiness is just one step away
Sometimes in a moment you learn what in a lifetime you don’t
Sometimes no matter what the world says it is good to listen to yourself
Sometimes stripping away your masks can be a good way to get healed
Sometimes crying means you are strong
Sometimes saying “no” doesn’t mean that you don’t care
Sometimes excessive concern kills
Sometimes letting go of someone means growth
Sometimes being an intellectual doesn’t make you wise
Sometimes being emotional doesn’t mean you are a fool
Sometimes being sad makes you human
Sometimes happiness is not the end, it’s the process
Sometimes a pricking conscience can be your wisest critic
Sometimes anger is required
Sometimes it is better to have an ice-cream than an apple!
Sometimes a loved one can be your greatest foe
Sometimes you just can’t be black or white,
Sometimes life can offer you two options- both of which you may not like but must choose from
Sometimes you have to cry not for the good things missing in your life but the life missing in good things you have
Sometimes you want to die because you hate life but there are those who are willing to live so that others can love life
Sometimes reality can be harsh but illusion much harsher
Sometimes it is good to help others grow but it is better if you let them grow
Sometimes sympathy can be good but empathy better
Sometimes tears and smiles are more eloquent than words
Sometimes glamour is beautiful but simplicity lovely
Sometimes beauty can win, charm always does
Sometimes fighting back is good but forbearance deadlier
Sometimes love means release
Sometimes happiness is just one step away
Sometimes in a moment you learn what in a lifetime you don’t
Sometimes no matter what the world says it is good to listen to yourself
Sometimes stripping away your masks can be a good way to get healed
Sometimes crying means you are strong
Sometimes saying “no” doesn’t mean that you don’t care
Sometimes excessive concern kills
Sometimes letting go of someone means growth
Sometimes being an intellectual doesn’t make you wise
Sometimes being emotional doesn’t mean you are a fool
Sometimes being sad makes you human
Sometimes happiness is not the end, it’s the process
Sometimes a pricking conscience can be your wisest critic
Sometimes anger is required
Sometimes it is better to have an ice-cream than an apple!
SAY IT OUT LOUD!
Bitching is an art.
An art which comes most naturally to the fairer and notably louder sex, an art which can be perfected and which is most easily perfected because it is inborn and can be cultivated with utmost, in fact excessive pleasure bordering on addictive indulgence.
There are several kinds of bitching. One is the in-your-face rudeness, impudence if you may call it, or even audacity. A crude catty form of criticism. Scathing outpourings. “Did you hear the latest? I heard that she was two-timing two boyfriends with a third one!! How cheap can she get?” “I heard she sleeps with her boss and his wife is her best friend!”
And especially when there is a group of females, expect a volcanic eruption of sizzling tid-bits. Often the same females comprising a group and bitching with so much ado about others will be bitching against each other in different company.
Then there is another sort of bitching- bitching to extract information to bitch more about. “Did you know she is contemplating divorce with her second husband also? Poor thing!! I wonder how much alimony she is going to get, she deserves it and her husband is so sinfully rich!”
Then yet another sort- the honey coated words with the wasp’s sting. She pretends to sympathize or condole or express her unsolicited solidarity when she means just the opposite. “I heard she was a very studious girl in school. Poor thing! Imagine, she failed thrice in her 1st year of college! How could she? I have not failed even once but of course, I am not diligent like her!!” Ouch!!!
Bitching is an integral, indispensable part of the female psyche unless she is truly altruistic. God!! The games females play and the gift (curse?) of the gab they possess!! Bitching is an institution in itself and deserves an annual function with different-category awards. I really won’t be surprised if this wonderfully versatile art evolves into other potentially distinguished forms in the near future.
(And I also won’t be surprised if males in female company start stacking up on cotton wads to plug into their ears though I sure am not being fair on men if I say male bitching does not exist).
An art which comes most naturally to the fairer and notably louder sex, an art which can be perfected and which is most easily perfected because it is inborn and can be cultivated with utmost, in fact excessive pleasure bordering on addictive indulgence.
There are several kinds of bitching. One is the in-your-face rudeness, impudence if you may call it, or even audacity. A crude catty form of criticism. Scathing outpourings. “Did you hear the latest? I heard that she was two-timing two boyfriends with a third one!! How cheap can she get?” “I heard she sleeps with her boss and his wife is her best friend!”
And especially when there is a group of females, expect a volcanic eruption of sizzling tid-bits. Often the same females comprising a group and bitching with so much ado about others will be bitching against each other in different company.
Then there is another sort of bitching- bitching to extract information to bitch more about. “Did you know she is contemplating divorce with her second husband also? Poor thing!! I wonder how much alimony she is going to get, she deserves it and her husband is so sinfully rich!”
Then yet another sort- the honey coated words with the wasp’s sting. She pretends to sympathize or condole or express her unsolicited solidarity when she means just the opposite. “I heard she was a very studious girl in school. Poor thing! Imagine, she failed thrice in her 1st year of college! How could she? I have not failed even once but of course, I am not diligent like her!!” Ouch!!!
Bitching is an integral, indispensable part of the female psyche unless she is truly altruistic. God!! The games females play and the gift (curse?) of the gab they possess!! Bitching is an institution in itself and deserves an annual function with different-category awards. I really won’t be surprised if this wonderfully versatile art evolves into other potentially distinguished forms in the near future.
(And I also won’t be surprised if males in female company start stacking up on cotton wads to plug into their ears though I sure am not being fair on men if I say male bitching does not exist).
JOURNEYING INTO THE HEART OF THE MATTER
There are journeys and there are more journeys but this time I was gearing up for a memorable trip which I had not really foreseen as one that would bring a wry smile to my face and produce moments of amused introspection.
Called to the headquarters for the media awards and the office anniversary picnic, I was at the capital for a fortnight, dividing time between work and fun. I filed in some stories for our weekly, shared jokes with friends while biting into pizza at The Seasons, went on shopping sprees spending a bomb on girly stuff, wept copious tears alone at the clock tower due to reasons best left unsaid…two weeks passed.
Finally, came the day of return- two days’ travel from Thimphu to Trashigang. I knew what they say of ordinary buses….they are famous for causing discomfiture and muscle cramps. Coaster-buses are heaven compared to the afore-mentioned big, menacing monsters. But I really didn’t care. I just wanted to get back home in time.
So I boarded the ominous structure on wheels and waved a last goodbye to my uncle who dropped me till the bus stand. As the bus roared to a start, I looked around at the other passengers. This was difficult because the space was so cramped I could hardly breathe.
The seat next to me was occupied by a man who looked friendly enough but the jacket he wore was so big it seemed to be smothering him at the neck. Luckily or unluckily, he decided to shift to an empty space next to two other men and I was left alone…at least for sometime.
As the bus heaved to a halt at the first stop, I was accosted by a woman who decided to sit beside me. She was a simple villager judging by her unkempt appearance, faded shoes and the small dirty ruck-sack she was carrying.
I have nothing against villagers but my senses cried out to be rescued at the foul stench emanating from the woman. And she decided to give me company. She kept throwing me irrelevant questions which I tried to answer in Sharchopkha as best as possible.
To get some respite and a breath of fresh air, I opened the window but the next moment the guy behind me pulled it close. “It’s raining. Close the window,” he uttered, no, in fact, ordered. Wanting to avoid unnecessary trouble, I did just that and the woman did not exactly smell of roses.
Some chemistry was brewing between the two young pretty girls in front of me and two young lads at the back. I noticed it every time the bus halted. The guys seemed to be seriously smitten by the girls going by the amount of ogling they did. I chuckled to myself inwardly… “Kids!” I thought.
The journey ended after twelve excruciating hours, at Bumthang.
The next morning I boarded the bus at six exactly. The same people, the same faces…and my companion- the friendly village woman was also present, flashing me a toothy smile.
As the journey progressed, a soldier to my right who was sitting with two other passengers started a monologue. I guess he had encountered endless adventures because he just could not stop talking about his travels, experiences and blah..blah…
Many times I dozed off; lulled to sleep by the heat and exhaustion and when awake I kept myself occupied by newspapers and a book I had newly bought.
As we neared our destination, my companion started thanking me profusely for the few eatables I had given her. She seemed to be genuinely grateful. All of a sudden, she glanced at my hands and showing hers- rough and worn out, said, “Your hands are so smooth unlike mine but can’t help it, I have to work!”
I just kept quiet because I didn’t know what to say. In fact, at that moment, I was feeling ashamed for treating her in a condescending manner. Yes, though she was poor, illiterate and far from tidy, she was also a human-being with needs, desires and wants similar to mine. How could I have thought myself superior to her?
The last journey of my two days’ travel ended at 7:30 in the evening when we reached Trashigang. It had been a tiresome journey but I now knew what it meant to travel, not in an air-conditioned Prado or even a Maruti car, but in a bus- the people’s bus to be more precise. And I had learnt something.
To really understand life, sometimes it just is not enough to sympathize intellectually. Every privileged person can do that from his ivory tower. You have to come out of your comfort zone and learn from people whom however ordinary or inferior they seem can teach you what no posh school or college can. This was a lesson of a life-time.
P.S. Of course, you must have a sense of humor.
Called to the headquarters for the media awards and the office anniversary picnic, I was at the capital for a fortnight, dividing time between work and fun. I filed in some stories for our weekly, shared jokes with friends while biting into pizza at The Seasons, went on shopping sprees spending a bomb on girly stuff, wept copious tears alone at the clock tower due to reasons best left unsaid…two weeks passed.
Finally, came the day of return- two days’ travel from Thimphu to Trashigang. I knew what they say of ordinary buses….they are famous for causing discomfiture and muscle cramps. Coaster-buses are heaven compared to the afore-mentioned big, menacing monsters. But I really didn’t care. I just wanted to get back home in time.
So I boarded the ominous structure on wheels and waved a last goodbye to my uncle who dropped me till the bus stand. As the bus roared to a start, I looked around at the other passengers. This was difficult because the space was so cramped I could hardly breathe.
The seat next to me was occupied by a man who looked friendly enough but the jacket he wore was so big it seemed to be smothering him at the neck. Luckily or unluckily, he decided to shift to an empty space next to two other men and I was left alone…at least for sometime.
As the bus heaved to a halt at the first stop, I was accosted by a woman who decided to sit beside me. She was a simple villager judging by her unkempt appearance, faded shoes and the small dirty ruck-sack she was carrying.
I have nothing against villagers but my senses cried out to be rescued at the foul stench emanating from the woman. And she decided to give me company. She kept throwing me irrelevant questions which I tried to answer in Sharchopkha as best as possible.
To get some respite and a breath of fresh air, I opened the window but the next moment the guy behind me pulled it close. “It’s raining. Close the window,” he uttered, no, in fact, ordered. Wanting to avoid unnecessary trouble, I did just that and the woman did not exactly smell of roses.
Some chemistry was brewing between the two young pretty girls in front of me and two young lads at the back. I noticed it every time the bus halted. The guys seemed to be seriously smitten by the girls going by the amount of ogling they did. I chuckled to myself inwardly… “Kids!” I thought.
The journey ended after twelve excruciating hours, at Bumthang.
The next morning I boarded the bus at six exactly. The same people, the same faces…and my companion- the friendly village woman was also present, flashing me a toothy smile.
As the journey progressed, a soldier to my right who was sitting with two other passengers started a monologue. I guess he had encountered endless adventures because he just could not stop talking about his travels, experiences and blah..blah…
Many times I dozed off; lulled to sleep by the heat and exhaustion and when awake I kept myself occupied by newspapers and a book I had newly bought.
As we neared our destination, my companion started thanking me profusely for the few eatables I had given her. She seemed to be genuinely grateful. All of a sudden, she glanced at my hands and showing hers- rough and worn out, said, “Your hands are so smooth unlike mine but can’t help it, I have to work!”
I just kept quiet because I didn’t know what to say. In fact, at that moment, I was feeling ashamed for treating her in a condescending manner. Yes, though she was poor, illiterate and far from tidy, she was also a human-being with needs, desires and wants similar to mine. How could I have thought myself superior to her?
The last journey of my two days’ travel ended at 7:30 in the evening when we reached Trashigang. It had been a tiresome journey but I now knew what it meant to travel, not in an air-conditioned Prado or even a Maruti car, but in a bus- the people’s bus to be more precise. And I had learnt something.
To really understand life, sometimes it just is not enough to sympathize intellectually. Every privileged person can do that from his ivory tower. You have to come out of your comfort zone and learn from people whom however ordinary or inferior they seem can teach you what no posh school or college can. This was a lesson of a life-time.
P.S. Of course, you must have a sense of humor.
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