Things we no longer do
We think twice before stating opinions. We no longer erupt in anger. Instead, we don’t say too much about anything. We smile and exchange superficialities and we leave conversations in limbo. But our eyes say far too much. We must now learn to hide our thoughts, make masks of our faces, frozen in falsehoods, a ricture of rage, a remembrance of when we spoke freely, proudly, showing off our intellect and argument.
We look away instead of smiling a half smile at strangers. We respond abruptly to innocent questions and keep at more than arm’s length. Good manners, you see, are often misconstrued for flirting. We suspect each other of child snatching, raping, moralising, of being right or left. We eavesdrop on passing conversations to prove our suspicions. We glare accusingly at the obviously orthodox – the orange robed, the white capped, the blue turbanned and the cross bearing. We blame them for this malaise of the soul. We have no ear for reason, no open arms to embrace the other. We have no heart, and we do not mind.
We sniff and turn away from the cows tethered at corners. Believers feed these cows and receive their bovine blessings, sometimes with a moo and a waggle of horns, sometimes with a splash from the rear end. We no longer see the innocence in this public nuisance, but simply another attempt to force religion upon us godless city dwellers. The dogs and cats avoid us too. They smell the taint of suspicion on us, and in turn keep their distance.
We discard things, people, principles far more easily now. No qualms of conscience when we replace a phone, a car, old friends. We are complicit in road rage and revenge crimes, honour killings and the wars of the righteous. We participate vicariously but even more insidiuously by our silence. We talk of self preservation but it is no more than selfishness if it comes at the cost of someone’s happiness or wellbeing. We admire environmentalists but do little to change ourselves. We spit, litter, pee and shit anywhere we like.
We have forgotten what it was like to stroll, to picnic, to bask in the sun on wintry mornings and sleep on roof tops on hot summer nights. Everything is orchestrated, choreographed, made a production of. Life’s simple pleasures are tossed aside as we grasp the shiny phone, grab the designer clothes and gobble in the world’s best restaurants. We are no longer satisfied with boredom. Stimulation of the senses is at the tips of our fingers, why settle for something as mundane as nothing to do? Do you remember even, the feeling that stole over you on a moonlit night, lying back on a grassy patch in a park, the cool breeze that lazily wafted scents of night jasmine and dew over your half closed eyes? Eating doodh pak puri if the moon was full or handchurned mango icecream out of a bucket steaming with ice and salt?
The world is at tipping point in every way you can think of – it burns and floods the eyes, it hates freely and loves very little. We have forgotten too much, of the world and of ourselves. The things that made us humane, gentle, kind, compassionate. The things we no longer have the time or patience for. Politeness, charm, humility. Patience, understanding, empathy.
Smile at fellow humans, pat the stray dog, smell the flowers. The year is 2020. And these are the things we no longer do.