Democracy or ochlocracy

Through the centuries we have had nations proclaiming and, to a certain extent, displaying democracy (rule of the people). India calls itself a secular & democratic nation. I would agree with this on a broad-based theoretical perspective.

At a national level, we do have all our political representatives mouthing the same lingo. The situation changes substantially at the local level. Our local politics is more representative of ochlocracy (rule of the mob).

The essential difference here is that mobs in ochlocracy are driven by passion and irrational 'mob mentality' which is usually a singular opinion held blindly by every member of the mob.

The people in a democracy are driven, however, by their own individual rationality. The decisions here are upheld when they are belonging to the majority.

Politicians today seem to fill in their vote banks through imposing pure ochlocracy. The gullible fall for this tactic since mobs are fantastic comfort zones to shield them from their daily problems like money, family, education etc.. ironically, the belief of the mob could then become a whim of the leader (conspirator).

The vote banks consist of mobs and not individual citizens. That is where our problem lies. We are acutely fragmented as a country even though we call ourselves unified and secular. In all this mess, the literate individual voters stay out of the drama. Why? Because it seems to be a lose-lose situation anyway... It's difficult to vote for the lesser evil.

Embracing my fears

The burning rocks almost roasting my hands with every touch, the rubble under my feet almost encouraging me to fall, the sun generously throwing upon us light and heat, much more than we need as though benevolence was it's only form of spite. Mouth parched and head reeling as i was drained of every drop of water that kept me moving.

The world below seemed as far as a dream. The world above seemed closer than usual. Yet, no prayers, no wishes & no doubts... only a concentration more intense than the heat of the rocks, a will to live, more acute than the blazing sun. Every step upward was a feat requiring every ounce of strength and determination that i could muster. Yet, there seemed a mysterious infinite supply of this which never waned. I still feel it beating within me at this very moment.

We reached the pinnacle, my two friends and me. Friends, because we had trusted each other with our lives and also because we shared this moment of ecstasy together. What we felt on the top was not pride, not even close to pride. We were aware of our achievement and of our will to live especially in the heat of this moment. Their eyes were exuberating contentment. Mine must have radiated that too because we didn't fluster when looking each other in the eye. We understood completely.

My fear of heights had drastically reduced as we headed downwards. Fear needs food. Our thoughts are it's food. The more we think about it, the stronger it grows. Acceptance of fear is the first step to annihilate it. I faced my fear in the form of a rocky ledge with nothing below but the world which was a dream. Nothing even to break my fall. Stepping over that ledge was my passport to freedom...freedom from fear. I have never loved my life as much as I did at the moment I led my feet over the edge, into the embrace of nothingness.

Well, I'm here today in the comfort of a chair, privileged enough being able to type this out.

After a spell of suffering and numbness there comes a unique spell of euphoria. A feeling where every moment earned henceforth is a reason for jubilation.

The wheel spins on...

The wheel spins on
it seems like a mindless compulsion
to an amateur onlooker.

A child cries, a man dies
A bomb blasts, a union fasts
Through wall breaks and earthquakes
This mighty wheel spins on.

Someone cried & someone laughed
Someone lost & someone gained
It's not the wheel of fortune
but the wheel of life.

Sounds of silence

The earth has stopped and shadows drape the sunlit surface.

Bodies freeze in a trance, not sleep and trees sway in graceful solace.

The clock stops here... impervious to the muffled chaos beyond.

Ants, birds and dogs scamper amongst us accentuating a mysterious bond.

I feel alone, I feel united.

I feel at peace, I feel ignited.

My little island

They lie as though time is a meaningless ordeal to be borne by the world around them.

Yet their eyes are waiting...perhaps for the world to start spinning, the clock to start ticking.

I lie amongst these souls on moist caked soil carpeted with patches of grass that seems to grow almost reluctantly as though wary of being tread upon.

My eyes stop to feel those determined stares & bulging veins, in a concentration so fierce, so hopeful...

Each has a past, present and future, a tale of sadness & joy, of comforts & tribulations, of victories & defeats.

There seems to be an invisible chord that unites our lives.

That chord is this moment of stillness we share.

Reverberations

Music for me is the symbiosis of rhythm, voice/sound and meaning. Very few artists achieve this in the end. Most pieces of music most disappointingly incomplete; either lacking meaning or rhythm or the voice. They are like half born babies. Alive, but not quite there...

I am feeling the reverberations of 'Zombie' by the Cranberries while I write this. Emotion, power, meaning, rhythm and a beautiful voice...entrancing. I'm so glad the likes of Cranberries, Chris Rea & Enigma still exist. These albums stress on the bliss, excitement and power of existence. Life is not as miserable as most people make it sound. Every moment is a celebration. Why mortify oneself with degrading concepts when we all want happiness in the end?

Mostly, we have the likes of Dido and Creed, stunning rhythm & voice. Their concepts however, are most disappointing. Stressing on dependence, weakness and giving up instead of fighting, surviving, rising up and attaining freedom. I have been able too enjoy these tracks by ignoring what they (don't) stand for and restrict myself to their rhythm and voice. It's difficult enjoying it this way but I'd rather make the most of what I have.

My intention was not to extoll or disparage any genre or particular artists. This is only my personal attitude towards music.

To kill a Mockingbird

Harper Lee has quite lucidly permeated into the nebulous sphere of adult psychology. When I begun reading this book, it almost seemed like an Enid Blyton, with nothing more to it than children's perception of the flowers, birds, trees and pot pourri of routine activities. This was only until Atticus Finch, the children's father chanced upon a legal case that he decided to fight in favour of a black man accused of raping a white girl.

A black man's word against that of a white... the black man didn't stand a chance even in the tumult of strong evidence in his favour. It was quite clear that the woman forced the man into an embarrasing situation, no sexual intercourse took place, the man was completely innocent. However it was not as simple as this in the minds of these children. Why did the black man lose? Why was he treated that way? Why are all blacks treated that way? These were just some of the questions that stormed through the young minds through the end of the case.

Throughout this book, i got the message that humans are most pure in intellect and spirit through childhood. Circumstances bend them, make them compromise on their individual values and adhere to the mentality of the mob. Why? Because it's less painful living that way.

Few humans carry the debris of society with their strength and integrity. But, these men are more like scapegoats. The society needs them for their survival but will also pressurize them until they break. Most do, few don't.

A simple thing like racial discrimination. Full grown adults swore by this absurd hierarchy based on skin colour and lineage. Yet, little children could not understand or even agree to this. Most children are made to conform, true. That's how we seem to be getting our never-ending dose of irrational adults. However, it makes one think children have the key to sensibility. Why? Because, their minds have not yet been corrupted by conventions and their being still holds a healthy thirst for knowledge.

I know this sounds cliched. But, in the end it boils down to awakening the child within!

Freedom

Apart from the political implications of this word, it has a very critical personal connotation as well. What do I mean by a personal connotation? I mean the implications of this word on an individual and his being.

What is an individual apart from being a complex mass of flesh, fluids and bones? In addition to this biological perspective, what makes a human unique is his thoughts, values and actions.

Gregory David Roberts put it beautifully through the first few pages of Shantaram. Man always has the freedom...the freedom of choices. Even when he was chained and beaten by the cops, he had the freedom... to hate them for it or to forgive them.

The lives and our being are a product of the choices we make. We can enslave a man's body, but enslaving his mind is not in our hands. That's a decision made by him alone. He could choose to be aware of his enslavement and hate it or adjust himself to it and play indifferent. His entire being might choose the former, but he will convince himself with the latter. Why? Because he thinks he will suffer less cheating himself of his own feelings.

Everyone has freedom. With that freedom, comes the necessity of being aware of one's actions and taking full responsibility of the consequences.

What I have observed amongst people is the tendency to prefer losing their freedom. Why? Because they prefer avoiding the responsibility of being themselves. Why? Because being oneself involves standing up for and living by your own convictions. That is not going to be taken well by some faction or another. Perhaps, they don't have the courage to stand up against the current. Perhaps, thats a compromise they are willing to make for that evasive concept called comfort.

These same people try then to impose the general, all encompassing ideologies onto anyone with the tendencies to individuality. Why? Because, they are a threat to their comfort.

Freedom realised is freedom lived. The very awareness of freedom is freedom even if one does not exercise it. This holds true as long as one is aware and true to himself.