Monday, January 26, 2009

The problems of a non conformist

This is a world of rules. Rules you and me have to follow, regardless of our likes or dislikes of them. My dad brought me up on this motto, or at least tried to. He considers himself a failure at the job. I do not know why, I still am a rule follower. I might skip and skim over a few here and there, but most of the time I stand steadfast to my rules. Well, rule. There is only one rule: There are no rules.

I have always hated the thought of being guided to somewhere or something. I am not a very smart guy, but if you are told this is it and this is how you do it, there is nothing exciting in doing it. I’d like to fall and bruise myself before getting it done. Call me a fool, but that is my sense of adventure. These ideas and their likes have led me to be labeled an idiot, the most consummate one at that. WTF! Wasn’t this what they call freedom?

I am a complicated guy, with problems bigger than anybody else. From my childhood till today, I’ve tried to understand with open mind this world that I’ve grown up in. Seriously, I’ve done that. And I am nowhere closer to knowing. It is all a huge paradox. They tell you to do something and then do something else. Hear this: My parents, like all parents, stressed on me the importance of telling the truth. SO in keeping with the rule, I walked up to an old aunt of my dad and asked her when she was leaving for her heavenly abode. Well, forgive me if my 3rd standard education had not given me a good grasp of civilized language. My parents gave me a smacking, and I never cared for TRUTH since then. Similarly, that time when my teacher was speaking a grammatically wrong sentence. My correction had given me a ‘stand up on the bench’ for acting smart.

What is normal? Somebody please explain. Is there some kind of standardized way of behaving in society? And who sets the rules? And why are they to be followed? Gimme a reason why I should not grow my hair long. All right, forget that. Give me a reason to give up on a career aim of being a journalist? No, bad pay and risks do not count. I know I was born in a middle class family; you don’t have to remind me of that. I know my dad is growing older by the day. Yes, I have to take up responsibilities being the only son. Let me do it my way. Don’t tell me this is how you should do it and how you must do it. I hate that. If you wanted obedient, servile and quick results producing beings; get a robot.

Sorry, if I sound self obsessed. I try not to be, but that is difficult in a world that asks you to focus on the ‘self’.

A problem of being born in an orthodox south Indian Brahmin family is that you have ‘standards’ that you have to follow. At least for the sake of ‘society’. Just because a few unknown people will walk up to you at the temple and spot the bearded me next to you, I am not going to shave. I’ll shave when I like. Ask them to change perspectives or walk away. If your relatives are going to be bothered by the cross hanging around my neck, don’t invite me. I am not going to change because you want to. I am not going to get better marks because your relatives get gold medals in their examinations. I do not want to run this rat race.

The scale of my problems has just grown after my teenage. Maybe I am growing old, or maybe I don’t wanna grow. I don’t know which one it is. Sometimes I just feel like getting on a bike and just go. Go far, far and far away. Where the streets have no name.

Then there comes a voice that says, you can’t possibly do that…you do love me don’t you? Girls are much worse than the whole world put together. They want you to be around them. You hang around your friends, they’ll complain. You hang around alone, they’ll crib. You wear a shirt you like; they’ll turn up their noses like they just smelt ammonia. If you are polite and humorous; you are a flirt. IF you ignore them, you are haughty; a snob. You might tell them your problems, but then you are a whiner, or gay. To hell with them. On the other hand, without them sounds better.

Somehow, the source of the problem seems above man. He cannot create such great and ordered chaos. It has to be the work of the creator. He must have got bored with his magnificent work and introduced all these small imperfections to make it interesting. And man following him, must have made all these laws. Like Al pacino says in ‘The Devil’s Advocate’ :

# Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He's a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, his own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It's the goof of all time. Look but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, don't swallow. Ahaha. And while you're jumpin' from one foot to the next, what is he doing? He's laughin' His sick, fuckin' ass off. He's a tight-ass. He's a sadist. He's an absentee landlord. Worship that? Never.”

So I’ll leave it to him to fix it.Till then, the rebellion shall continue.

No comments: