basic reflections

Some Thoughts On Violence

It is about a week now since a twenty three year old girl who had been brutally assaulted by six men on a Delhi bus, died in a Singapore hospital. News spread like wildfire over social networking sites. Before and since then there have been numerous protest marches against violence against women, inviting rude comments on rape from politicians and the sons of politicians. On the other hand this single event has also garnered a huge amount of support from the public and led to a desire to address what has become one of our worst nightmares in modern times. It was one of those grisly events which went beyond filling people with fear and panic and firing them  instead with a huge sense of anger and injustice and the energy to act against a government whose apathy and lack of concern borders on ruthlessness.

 

I tried to identify my own feelings. Among them I felt rage, powerlessness and in between, the kind of emptiness which sometimes follows strong feelings. The topic was discussed that week, during our English conversation class as well. Much heat was generated by various ideas. The right thing, Shraddha and Vijay felt, was to sentence the perpetrators to death. You could not overlook or forgive a crime like this. All the while they were speaking, I watched Sumanth shaking his head violently. Maybe he was against the death penalty I thought, something I myself – no matter what the circumstances - have never been particularly in favour of.

 But then Sumanth says, his words tumbling out, and running into each other so that his speech is barely intelligible, “Madam, for such men the death sentence is too light. In five minutes it’s all over. Men who defile women should experience the same agony they cause to the victims. Cut off their arms and legs and leave them to die like beggars on the road.” Saru sitting next to him nods in approval, affirming that a simple death sentence would be way too ineffective. Punish those b******s! her tone clearly expressed.

 Questions arose and I am still looking at them. What should be done with men who treat women like animals? How do you address brutality and inhumanity in our society, without actually indulging in and perpetrating these qualities ourselves? How could we help make a better world, if not for ourselves, then for future generations?

 Somehow, the Delhi incident we have been reading and talking about these last few days, has stirred up feelings on a scale which seems unprecedented leading not only to protests against the government on a huge scale, but to a kind of waking up to reality and to what has gone wrong in society. The  large scale public uproar is serving to bring to our consciousness the fact that our social conscience has been de-railed. But the question is not easy to resolve. What do we do about the violent streak in us human beings?

 In yet another session, this time centered around self awareness, thoughts are again aired. Suresh, wearing a black band around his arm, and intending to join the candle light march later that evening, is reluctant to follow the “eye for an eye” policy. Raj, disagrees with his restraint. Distraught, she asks what one would do if one’s daughters were to find themselves in the same predicament and whether we would then be as prepared  to forego severe measures. Leena who has been quiet a long while suddenly expresses her thoughts. “When we think of action on a huge scale, we invariably end up feeling paralyzed. It is so difficult,” she says, “for an individual to think up remedies for the public good.” The most effective thing we can do, she goes on, is to change the world, not through any grandiose schemes and punishments but through changing ourselves. For each of us in other words, to help make a new world through changing our own environment, bringing up our children in peace and freedom, addressing the repression that often leads to perverted acts be it rape or senseless brutality. Uma  adds, that alongside these we need to address issues of our own need for control as rape has been established to be not so much as an act of sexuality but an act of establishing power over the victim.

 A new area  opens up for reflection. How does the outside world change if not through change at the individual level? Which doesn’t by a long shot mean we forget that the world exists and only live our own narrow lives but rather, that we keep abreast of happenings without letting our own power and ability to change get dampened by the overall sense of gloom and helplessness. At the practical level, some feel, women should perhaps gain mastery in self defense. Judo, Karate, the martial arts, generally. But also to know that deep transformation is not to do with instilling fear into human beings but to do with awakening true humanness through finding ways of going beyond bestiality. Empathy through self awareness, greater compassion and feeling towards each other. An attitude we sometimes despair of ever being able to attain. And yet, if a just and compassionate society is not our true goal, where are we  really headed?!

Uma

 

 

 

 

 

The End Of The World

And so, 21^st December 2012 came and went, as peacefully (or not) as any other day. Asha, our cook and my special confidante for years now, and I trotted off to Worli sea face to watch the sunset and to drink tea from a thermos which Asha had brought along from home. She had also packed in a jar of boiled channa to munch on which we did, looking at the mix of people walking, stumbling or striding along the sea front. Short people, tall people, fat and thin people. Almost all huffing and puffing along in sneakers and jogging pants.

 Asha says, “This is the day the world is supposed to go under,” and chuckles. I check my watch. “It could still happen, it’s only 6 in the evening,” I say.

 Well, now it’s “tomorrow” morning and I’m still around and typing this stuff here on my computer. I enjoyed my coffee and porridge and boiled egg while reading the papers. The papers are still full of news about a young girl who, though accompanied by a male friend, was gang raped by six men on a Delhi bus. The story reminded me of others I’d read recently, in a similar vein. More than one girl had had acid thrown on her face by some disgruntled lover, a couple of businessmen had been killed by thugs, several old ladies and a few younger ones had been murdered or raped by either watchmen or by burglars and thugs who had crept into the premises on account of slack surveillance. In the villages people are being daily exploited by those in power and farmers, unable to pay off their debts are committing suicide by the hoard.

For many people it must seem as if the world has already ended or is about to end. Why wait for 21^st December or any day in particular? Maybe what the Mayan prophesy indicates is not that some big meteor will crash into our earth or we will be destroyed by one massive earthquake or flood. The disaster myth is more like a metaphor for what is happening on a daily basis in our lives and awful as it sounds maybe a mass scale destruction could be seen more in terms of a necessary part of a cleansing process since human beings seem unable to undertake any transformative action on their own without pressure.

What would it take to change things round so that human beings stop being subjected to the kind of torture and indignities they have to face today? We would very well have to stop hiding behind our pretended helplessness and face our excesses and our inadequacies wouldn’t we? Not only at the political and social level but as individuals  too. Because the process of change is not one way. It is not just that politics or society influences individuals. Individuals too have a say in the kind of society they want to live in, or the politics they would like to define their lives.  Maybe this is what the myth of 21^st December is pointing to – the need for change. That in the total absence of change on a vast enough scale the human race is apt to go out – if not with a bang then with a whimper, but go it must for another possibly more intelligent species, which is able to keep in tune  with the rest of the planet.

Uma

 

Powerlessness And Rage

 

Chandran discusses the feeling of powerlessness in all of us and how it is connected with rage:

 

How often do I feel powerless and how often am I filled with fury?  I am beginning to suspect they may be closely related if not the same thing.

I feel angry when I see or hear of injustice in the world. I identify with whoever I consider the victim and feel rage against the aggressor. It’s always nice to have bad guys to hate. Someone who deserves to be punished. And it’s enjoyable to think of the punishments they should get. The victim is always morally superior to the aggressor.

They started it. They did it first. So they deserve to get it back.

But perhaps that is where they are coming from too. Maybe they feel that their victims too deserve it. It’s their right, even their duty to do what they did. Or some other justification    that it’s necessary to preserve order or protect something they consider worth defending. Or they had to do it because they had something at stake.

When I am enraged, it is difficult to see the humanity of the ones I am enraged with. Even more difficult to see that my rage looks just like theirs and that when I slip into the sea of hatred, I am no different from anyone else swimming there. But then, it feels good to blind myself to all that.

But some people actually act out their hatred and rage. They kill, rape, torture and so on. Maybe it gives them a sense of power. Maybe all that prevents us from doing the same is fear. Fear of the consequences, of being punished, of feeling guilty. Fear of losing moral superiority and being no better than the other.

Perhaps those who hold power over others are fearful too. Fearful of being powerless. What those they control would do to them if they lost their power and the roles were reversed. Those who turn the tables and seize power are perhaps those who are willing to pay the price.

Anger I feel as a tightness in the muscles, stomach, chest, throat and sometimes the head. Powerlessness feels like a blockage, a heaviness in the heart and the stomach.

What is real power? Is any one really powerful? Who are they? Am I really powerless? Why do I feel that way?  What connects the powerful to the powerless and vice-versa?

Why do all these tapes of past helplessness keep replaying in my head and fuel fears of the future? Where did they all begin? Experiences from infancy of being surrounded by huge, powerful adults and totally dependent on them. Constant threats in childhood from teachers and schoolyard bullies..

Have I ever experienced real power? Do I accept it? Is all power evil? Is power always related to coercion and force? Is power over others real power?

When I am powerless I hope for help from someone who is more powerful. Someone who will help me, protect and look after me. But such help is often lacking when I need it. So I feel helpless and vulnerable. Worse still, if that help comes, it usually comes with a price. The one who helped me now becomes my master. Makes new demands. So there goes my freedom, again.

What about my own control issues? Though I’d like to believe otherwise, I too control others and like to do so. There are many subtle ways of manipulation and emotional blackmail. I get my way often by the threat, however hidden of withdrawing love. How close can I get to loving unconditionally?

Jealousy and resentment are other reactions arising partly from powerlessness. When others have something that I don’t, including power, even though I may tell myself I don’t want it, there is usually resentment – and with it at least a touch of jealousy.

It is the thought process that constantly throws up the oppressor figures with which I then do battle.

The rage eats away at me. Sometimes I just feel tired of it. And the sadness comes back again. The very deep sadness at what has been that I do not like and cannot or will not change, and the fact that many things will never be the way I will not want them to be. Can I stay with that feeling, however uncomfortable? When I stay with it, sometimes, I am able to drop my resistance to what is. That’s when I am able to leave behind my fear and rage, at least for a while. That’s when I experience freedom.

Injustices in society that I can do nothing about. And sometimes benefit from. I am party to those misdeeds by omission or commission, even if indirectly.

And what of hopelessness? What is hope but an expectation that things will be better or different – which in turn arises from a rejection of what is. Hopelessness is when we see that the expectation may never be fulfilled. And we resist that realization. When I accept what is, there is neither hope nor hopelessness.

Coming back to power, Perhaps it is a lack of knowledge of what power really is and seeking what we believe it is, but really is not that is the root of the problem. We all seem caught up in the delusion of what we suppose power and totally miss what it really is. We mistake the ability to hurt and harm, and the influence it has over others’ behaviour to be power. Does courage come from being powerful, or is it the other way around? Can one act in spite of one’s fears, creating courage as one goes along, fully aware of one’s vulnerability. Would that be power?

Ultimately, we are all powerless. In the face of nature and its forces and ultimately death itself, we are all equally powerless.

 

 Look at a tiger chasing a deer. If the tiger prevails, it is the end of the deer. But often, the deer gets away. If this happens too often, the tiger will starve to death. Somehow, nature balances things out so that both deer and tigers have survived for millions of years. But when humans do it to members of their own species for gain, or in the name of some stupid ideology or the other, it is not natural but perverse.