A Matter of Trust

“Trust in me, just in me, shut your eyes and trust in me” – Python Kaa in the Jungle Book

 

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”

― Ernest Hemingway

But then what if trust itself is a quality that is distant and foreign? To some it is. By quirk of what one may call fate, I have come to be acquainted with a man who does not trust even his shadow. It was shocking to hear him say that he does trust neither his wife nor his children (who are in their adolescence and teens). He feels that they may be waiting for him to die to corner his wealth. Why and for what he needs his wealth once he is gone is a mystery kept close to his bosom! But, the thought process that prompted such an observation seems hard to comprehend. He is so distrustful of people around him, that he deftly and often crudely plays his associates and employees against the other. His way is that he has everyone so mistrustful of the other that they spy on the other not being aware or sometimes regardless of the fact that they are being spied too. He runs his organisation in such Machiavellian way, which inbreeds shenanigans. As it is the natural law outside physics that every action permeates down to consolidate and react in certain way that we call natural or cosmic justice. So, the man oblivious of the fact that his distrust of even his shadow keeps him sleepless and always glancing backward over his shoulders, continues to survey his domain. While the malicious ones at his feet thrive in his frailty.

 I guess it was in the language class in college- that the professor who taught me my optional language Malayalam was a keen and erudite person who had the uncanny ability to paint like an artist the essence from the works of great poets of yore and recent history. I vividly remember him once lecture in his inimitable style a couplet from the play “Shakuntalam”,wherein the great bard sketches a stag deer deftly using its antlers to remove a tiny niggling piece of alien speck from the doe’s eye. The doe in absolute trust abandons herself in bliss and gratitude to the stag that she knows he can never for a moment waver and let his antlers pierce her eyes in the process. The sublimity of faith! Trust among spouses, man and woman which in this fast paced impersonal world is a premium!

In moments of great stress and distress when madness fleetingly envelops I wonder of the piety of trust. Should I be a python Kaa or the Stag? Perhaps it is easy to trivialise trust when it is once breached. It is not just promiscuity and morals related to that I refer to. Unfortunately trust and morality is seen only synonymous with sexual conduct.

But then is not trust something that can be felt only when it is abandoned? The intensity of trust can be known only when the pain of breach is manifested? It  can be truthfully said, “I’m not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”

Passion

 

How passionate one can be in what one does?

I look around and feel awed by some –friends, business associates and just some others we know in public life. And I find myself lagging far behind. I do not want to hide behind the apron of excuses and frivolous reasons. I have been less severe in what I do. Has it not been a less than cent percent of energy, effort and dedication? Yes it has been. I do not know if I could not grab or latch on to what I love doing most. Nevertheless I have been less devout. I can recall the same story from my days as a student – school goer and later at the university. Am I made up so? Alibis as I mentioned are not what I intend to seek.

I have been watching the thirteen part episode of Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos”. A faithful exercise I indulged in every Sunday morning in the 1980’s when the insipid Doordarshan quite astonishingly aired it as soon as it was released worldwide. Later the book “cosmos” was added into my prized possessions. I was inundated by the personality, passion, knowledge and sheer eminence of Carl Sagan the astrophysicist. He wrote and narrated the episodes and each word he uttered overflowed with emotion and sincerity .Though he succumbed to a strange variant of  leukemia at a relatively young age into his sixties, I gather that his was a life lived to the brim relishing in doing what he loved most-“ gazing at the stars”. 

A friend I admire and respect is among the top rung officers in the Indian Army. And I still am dumbstruck by his sheer will and dedication. His maniacal aim and purpose of getting into the army saw him dedicate himself solely for the rigours of the Indian Military Academy. Though from a Spartan family he was unnerved by perhaps a less understanding folks and succeeded in his aim. He has been exemplary in the service and I do not think there is many such one in his breed who are honest, upright and dedicated to one’s profession. He loves being in his boots. And he has I’m sure a couple of more notches to traverse in the hierarchy of the armed forces. He is now a Brigadier.

A business associate and friend I have known since almost two decades, his wife confided in me when I met her in Blore a few weeks ago that she feels utter ennui during his long absence from home on work but she feels happy that he enjoys what he loves most .He himself asserted that he will unstring his boots the moment he feels alien to what he does. An honest, sincere and no push over, he brims with absolute knowledge and mastery over his arena.  A person who can articulate with admirable powers! And, as appreciation of his caliber and dedication, have come to him the unquestioned faith and approval of his boss who seldom stretched his neck into his domain. I have not come across many others who brim with confidence as he.

These examples are just a few that came to my thought. It is tiresome to see people needing a reason to do things in life they love. Come on do it because you want to, it is fun , it makes you happy.

And there are others who crave and long to do what they love most. But the sheer guts to plunge into seem absent. The result is frustration and unpleasantness of the mind. The beckoning may not visit from outside, it has to come from within. It is the fear of the future that restrains. The commitments that are supposedly put forth as alibis and lame reasons are mere aprons to hide behind. They quibble when confronted. And with such people, I feel the misery is accentuated and life is sulking.

Dirty Dancing

Man is a fornicating species. Many in the animal kingdom are, except some species of avian. Well can we accept promiscuous behavior blaming it on natural predisposition? In any case marriage and morals were founded by society and imposed on us. Will it be proper to admit that we need not be compliant to what is from outside?

A colleague of mine is so obsessed with sex that he is wildly promiscuous and has no inhibitions to explain and revel in his exploits. He muses that on judgment day it is such wonderful indulgences that stay behind as happy memoirs. Sometime it exasperates, and at times I sigh, what a fancy life he has that which I only can dream of.

I was at a dinner at a business associate’s house and the group was pretty small too. The day before to the dinner night, I was introduced to this woman called L who I met again there. She was with another fellow in his thirties who was introduced to me as her brother-in-law. L was dressed in a short skirt about knee length and in a scoop neck tee shirt. She was not beautiful as beautiful can be, but had the oomph and was splendidly endowed. Admittedly I was fascinated! We were sitting in the garden verandah of the elegant house. She was pretty gay and full of fun. Leaning over towards me she poured another glass of vodka and I could see her titillating cleavage that was well exposed by the scoop neck tee she wore. Modesty forced me look elsewhere though the visuals stayed in mind. She asked me to join her for a dance to a number being played on the stereo. I was timid and swore that I was not able to tango. She went ahead with the guy, her brother- in- law. They held one other close and tangoed to a number. After the dance she jumped and sat on his lap straddling her arms around his neck.

 I observed all that with titillating pleasure and timidity. She was provocative, I felt and he was relishing it. She came and sat opposite me to have another glass of vodka. My eyes were roving and furtive. She moaned again, “Come on A, be a sport and dance with me”. She forced me by the hand and I clownishly did a sort of motion with her. She danced close to my body and often touching or rubbing her body on me. I was coy and was not used to such public display of rollicking.

I mused when I was on my way back that night ,L was equally at ease with me , the colleague who accompanied me, the guy who was her brother-in-law and the gentleman host. Perhaps was I stupidly thinking with some ridiculous notion? Was I obsessed with the idea of fornication, that a societal gesture of a woman was misunderstood? Was she wantonly being provocative? If a woman shows such physical closeness to her brother-in-law can the man be restrained from not reading or misreading the cue or even indulge in incest?

I thought of the colleague who exults in his prowess and keeps the number of women he has had relationships with. And, I smiled thinking of a good friend of mine who has the special knack with women and he certainly was the man for such tango and fun, not this boring, insipid timorous me.

Face Book

“Who's been painting my roses red? WHO'S BEEN PAINTING MY ROSES RED? Who dares to taint with vulgar paint the royal flower bed?  For painting my roses red someone will lose his head.” Queen of Hearts, Alice I n Wonderland.

Expressions of opinion can invite fatwa, venomous retorts and one just need not have to paint the roses red. An opinion that the roses would enthrall if it were done red may suffice to send the head rolling.

I stumbled on a pretty trivial post on the Face Book shared by an fb friend. It was a statement by a nondescript but apparently haughty director in the Mallu tinsel world. The gentleman had proclaimed aloud that the Malayalam film industry must jettison the fascination to rope in actors from other states. He was specifically rubbishing an actor from Telugu, “Padma Priya”. Incidentally this young actor has to her credit a few films in Malayalm that manifested her talent and grace. I joined the comment bandwagon quite ordinarily and opined that “perhaps talent was a threat” and the actor was competent as she has showed in her films. There were indeed many comments for and against talent from outside the State.

Later in the day, I saw on the message box in the FB a curt message from the director who proclaimed his ridicule for the actor in question. He wrote in Malayalam that I must have shown the civility and culture attributed to an alumni of the Mar Ivanios college Thpuram. And that he too was the product of the college and why was I outraged when an mere actress was rubbished. I was absolutely at loss to understand the tirade of this guy who was a total stranger to me. I wrote back a sentence saying that “to me talent has to be respected irrespective of its origin and culture is to speak out and stand for what one feels is right and fearlessly too”. He did not cease with that but send another message. From there I ignored the nonsense than join issue.

The crux of the matter that is relevant here, though my comment was just like a lay person who expresses his opinion is, I sense that the gentleman was not just targeting women from outside State. Though it cannot be denied that his anguish was the outcome of  a prejudiced, discriminatory and parochial mindset . I also heard from my friends in the film world that this actor was of a different genre and has the gumption to stand up and fight out in a male dominated world where casting couches are still not antediluvian and not phased out. So that presumably may have made her persona non grata to some. Who said that a few seats in parliament when reserved for women would emancipate the sex?

I still cannot understand the diatribe and spat of venom I got for a harmless opinion on a subject of limited importance  on a supposedly benign social network.

An Uneasy Tenancy

Certain matters in social relationships and behiavour are quite delicate and calls for much etiquette based exercise. Timidity often restrains us from committing by word or deed matters that may be necessary. And audacity and arrogance may make us do what others see awkward.

I was moving into a new apartment and, the tenants who occupied the apartment were expatriates from Kerala and where in the Middle East for almost twenty five years. The gentleman was retiring from ‘Banque de Paribas’ and were going back home. The apartment owner assured that I can move in on the 1st of July and the Mallu couple also confirmed to me that they will fly back on the 30 th of June.

Then came a little shock, the tenants called me up on the phone and said that they may have to extend their stay till the 3 rd of July and would I mind to move in on the 3rd.That indeed put me in a little difficult position with my then owner to whom I gave notice of transfer by the 1 st of July. Timid as I felt about the issue of going back to the apartment owner and negotiating another extra week to clear off! I had to gather all diplomacy that was alien and braced for the unpleasant discussion with the apartment owner. All this while the man who was leasing me the new apartment played an intelligent game and told me that as far he was concerned, his agreement with the occupants lapsed and since he has the new contract with me and also because the tenants were Mallus it was my choice to let them stay or evict them. A real quandary!

The shocker was yet to come. The relentless  Mallus called me up and said that the flights back to India were flying full and tickets were available only by the 10^th July and could they stay till then. Another more outrageous suggestion followed -if I desire, they have no problem in I moving in there and all that they needed was just a room as all their utilities were shipped out. 

It reminded me of a socially satirical and relevant film in Malayalam in which the house owner had to forcibly move in and live in one room to hound out the boorish and heedless tenants. And he had to bore brickbats for the alleged connivance to free his own apartment from the recaltricant and audacious folks who put up in his house brushing aside his pleadings to move out. My predicament seemed not too dissimilar.I could not react and express. The thought of having to live, even if it were for a few days with total strangers seemed preposterous and unease. I asked if that would not be too hard on their privacy. To which the Mallu gentleman asserted that they had no difficulties. That literally incensed me. . And now the guy has the temerity to suggest that they may have no discomfiture if I move in and live there before they are gone. But again timidity leashed me.

The guy was very rich. And could not he and his wife move to a hotel for those few days? It may cost him a few nickel and would save awkwardness. I personally would have done that and would not in the most perverted wild dream think of such a proposition or arrangement as this.

The epilogue to the story was that I moved into the apartment and cocooned in a room. I had to fix airconditoners in all rooms as they had ripped out theirs. And consigning them however irritated I was to the sultriness and heat of the summer sans air-condition was pretty cruel and impolite. And I guess I took care not to offend them and display any mean spirited tantrums I may have lying latent.

However I decided that when I wanted to go to the pub and have a few sundowners before going home, I did exactly that. I did, not care to see if that was discourteous or impolite. I would go swiftly into my room and shut the door lest the lady would notice the whiff of alcohol. At least I need to have that right by birth and fundamental in the house I pay for.

But it was awful difficult and uneasy however one wanted to be not churlish, though I must pat my back that I managed to live through displaying timid smile.

Narcissus

Tales from Greek Mythology has always been fascinating. The story of Narcissus- who was beguiled by Nemesis to a pool, where he saw and fell in love with his very own reflection and unheeding the entreaties of his love Echo, lay hypnotised and obsessed with the image of self and dies eventually. The Gods later turned his remains into a flower. The Narcissus!

If our idiosyncrasies can be excused because it can be related to a genetic inheritance or even to a vain childhood and formative days , well then no felon can be incarcerated and no murderer can be consigned  to the gallows. For, all our deeds are not of our making or volition, but psychological aberrations that metamorphosed into what we are. They are the acts of Nemesis!

He is pleasant faced and charming; the boyish grin of Cupid is his hallmark. He would not bate an eyelid if he was asked for help and without demure and with eagerness ran errands that he need not have to. A highly felicitated and appreciated worker, he was the darling of the top management. What he has been able to achieve in his official capacity was the envy of the top brass and his colleagues .A jolly good bloke who ensured his presence in every situation that calls for assistance, even often much that is not relevant to his position in the Bank where he worked. His foibles made him the darling of the people who was acquainted to him and the cynosure of his friends. The world knew him very well and brooked no traits in him that was unpleasant. A Good Samaritan who cared for everybody who crossed his path! A guy who loves banter and fun!

The moon has a dark side and that is not strange in the matters of men too. It did not take much long for a fairytale relationship that climaxed in marriage to churn and show signs of curdling. At home he permeated an exasperating air of cussedness and that would be an unthinkable disposition the outside world would attribute to him. Known only to the folks very, very close and his wife, he showed distinct gauche that she a self styled sophisticated lass found hard to fathom and live with.

He did not diffrentiate between what to discuss with the world outside and what not to. Perhaps he did not understand. The little storms that happened between him and his spouse were bared in public. This was handy to the frivolous and the dissolute ones among his friends and acquaintance and to the utter charging and apprehension of his wife. He began to display the selfish side of the feeling of hurt ignoring the unpleasantness such matters inflicts on his spouse and his near ones. The ingratiating ones took note of the opportunity to shower pity and empathy on him stating that they feel for his plight and the callousness of his wife. The very same would flatter her to deceive and express serious reservation about his behavior.

His escapades into delusion of self-importance with little regard for the other seemed to have eclipsed a life of mutual respect and affection. His conduct increasingly seemed inane and unacceptable. Sometimes, he entertained acquaintances at home and brooked no reservation about the etiquettes in doing so while his wife and little children, their two little

girls were around. A family holiday turned sour when he his wife and little ones had to be virtually escorted after he got inebriated.

He simply refused to hear any chiding of his strange ways. Often he seemed to commit excess in foolishness.

The woman in his life attributed his behavioral problems to Narcissism. 

His wife who was a working woman chose to seek a transfer to a faraway city. Perhaps a mistake, though a wise recourse in her opinion! And, communication between them became uncommon and when it happened it bordered and even slid into acrimony. Quite incorrectly she was acquiescing his behaviours during the afterglow of their marriage. However, perhaps when the sheen was wearing away she felt a lot depravity. 

There was no love lost for the woman in his life and the love and affection for his little girls was limitless. It often seemed that he was incapable of expressing affection and love as a woman would expect. Perhaps he is entwined by an illusion that he has to commit excess to be noticed? That would be a terribly misconceived thinking. There seemed to be a distinct deposit of inferiority complex in him. And he did not heed. His heart that went wild, often ruled his mind.

What can bring about a redress? People who cared for him and his family worried.

The Summit

“Summit”- the word denotes the highest or extreme point of something (usually a mountain or hill); the highest degree of achievement attainable, the acme; and a meeting of the heads of governments.

The just concluded G20 Mexico and the G20- Rio summits in the one of the most environmentally threatened and polluted cities in the world flatter to fall in any category perse except the last. For it to denote the pinnacle of something great is a misnomer. I would call it a retreat and a jamboree cocooned in hedonistic opulence amidst the surrounding filth and squalor of Rio de Janerio.  Thanks to the insane ideology of development and the privileges that go with political and bureaucratic positions of power, the pageant was enacted.

Rio de Janerio- the concourses that swarmed into Rio for the conference of G20 behemoths and the United Nation’s sustainable development may have dreamed of white and pristine beaches straddling deep blue waters on the Atlantic coast But like any visitor who flies into the financial capital of India, “Mumbai” would notice- the slums and squalor around the landing strip of the airport, what the summit men in Rio would have seen and felt was the stench of sewage and filth. This is because the airport in Rio is by the bay that takes in more than a billion liters of untreated sewage water. However when you are cocooned inside the air-conditioned and super filtered environment of the seven star hotels and condominiums one erases the realities outside. An avoidable and unnecessary nuisance best wished away and forgotten!

The citizens of Rio are certainly poorer by a good millions of dollars now that they have to foot the bill for the epicurean confluence.

What did the mela achieve? The G20in Mexico that preceded was attended by the heads of the two largest economies, the USA and Germany. However, they chose to see the G20-Rio summit for sustainable development which followed as trivial and avoided Rio. The moot question is what has such summits, be it the Cancun, the Rio and the many others  achieve? Apart from burdening the tax payers of the cities that host the fantasy, what else have they given back?

An underdeveloped or developing country like India had to honour her commitment as the member of the IMF and dole out a few billion dollars to the charity fund to bail out the extravagant lots in the developed world from the nook they have got themselves in. It is ironical that institutions like IMF and the developed economies of the west that has always been sententious and condescending to the developing and under developed world, now need doles from the later to resurface from the abyss they have went down themselves.
 Since seldom has such fêtes changed the world, is it necessary for the group to come together like this and waste millions in cost when technology like video conferencing can be used at almost insignificant cost? The millions that go for hosting of such circuses can be diverted to clean up the squalor around. It is plain and simple truth that developed Europe and the Americas are adept in keeping their environmental stables clean while their excreta and garbage is shipped and thrown into the third world. The intertwining of the global economy has ensured a safety net for the developed world. And a Damocles sword for the underdeveloped and developing world! A hiccup in a distant economy among the developed countries will create flutter and tremor in the far off impoverished Timbuktu.
The myopic and narrow concept of GDP as the measure for success and economic growth is outdated and should be jettisoned. If the world in its scramble for growth or development has nothing to sustain and leave for posterity then such agenda is not development but a death knell.

The end of the story is that opulence and extravagance or living beyond one’s means by a distant cousin on the other side of the Atlantic will siphon the meager savings of the poor cousin on the far side of the world, in the Indian Ocean. In fact the perilous fellow has to borrow to bail out the other-his rich distant cousin! It is like the annual UN General Assembly and frequent Security Council meetings! Have these prosaic conferences managed to stave off  wars, a systematic genocides? 

As for sustainable development it is a well coined phrase and pickled in hypocrisy. I wonder if there is any one in the world who would bate an eyelid for something beyond the threshold of his comfort.