DAY 473 Amitabh Bachchan Blog
I write in early today because life started off early this morning. Navya’s School in Delhi rang in late last night to say a girl in the 6th standard had tested positive for Swine Flu and that the School had been shut and all the kids were instructed to stay home. The little girl student is in the same year as Navya but in a different section of class. Obviously this has created an alarming situation for the families of all the children. But what has been most disturbing has been a Government diktat that they are not permitted to announce or give details of the name of the student afflicted. I guess there is some ethics committee sitting on this and defining the morals behind it, but for those parents who would want to ascertain from their kids if they came in contact with said afflicted child, it has been a nightmare. The electronic media apparently, instead of demonstrating calm and caution has been only concentrating on the alarming aspect of the disease, by repeatedly showing the extreme case of a young girl that sadly a week ago as a first case, succumbed to the illness in the city. Other than that they are showing long cues of parents with their children, some with high temperatures, standing and waiting for their turn to come for an investigation. This has been causing extreme alarm throughout not just Delhi but the entire country. Panic is worse than the cause at times and I would like to believe that that is what needs to be addressed first. I can only attribute the media angle at wanting to wake up the authorities to wise up and get action plans moving. But how do you argue with media ?
Just a short while ago, Shweta has called to say that the girl from the School has been checked again and the investigation reports are negative to Swine Flu - the parents of the girl submitting a medical report to the Principal. Whew !! A relief. But an episode that was badly managed to say the least. I would have been happier if the media would send out public interest announcements on what precautions need to be taken, what possible symptoms to look out for so that timely action can be taken and restore some kind of confidence in the minds of the masses, particularly those that are poor and unable to either understand the ailment or are not equipped to get it attended to at proper medical facilities. I would happily volunteer for this. But someone must ask, or conceive, or execute.
‘Talking to myself’ was but a metaphorical little expression. It seems to have caught the the fancy of the more intellectual kind. A learned friend of mine form the United Kingdom and one who reads the blog quite often observes that ~
Goodness, undoubtedly thousands of people comprise your audience, and hundreds give written reply in order to interact with you. Yet you feel that writing your Blog is like talking to yourself. I find it hard to believe that your audience’s responses, predominantly enthusiastic, adoring, faithful, solicitous, eager, they mark you so little in consequence. I could not believe that you are insensitive to others, regardless that they are not your friends, but admirers. You would ultimately find yourself forced to respect their admiration, given that you would respect their judgements as human beings, having no reason to think otherwise of them.
But perhaps it is a felicity that you feel that you talk to yourself, for I doubt that you might make the time otherwise to write a diary, or take on the onerous task of a formal autobiography. One is, after all, one’s own best intimate. Therefore, that you correspond with yourself on your Blog, I then hope that there you find intimacy, that private solitude for which you long. It would be an intriguing irony.
In my defense I responded back with ~
Yes writing on the blog is like talking to myself.. If there are those that can hear me I shall not disapprove of it despite its ironical disposition that you so elaborate upon.
The diary and autobiographies came before the invention of the blog. I did not have inclination towards the former, perhaps because of its binding to formal confession. I do not want to confess publicly. I am not of such importance that I should, or even consider I should.
The blog was unique. I never have any pre determined agenda before starting a post. Which is why it is so attractive. Unlike formal intimation and designed record it is spontaneous, state of the mind.
It has other qualities too. It disperses instantly and, better, gets immediate reaction. A reaction that has the facility of getting addressed with some immediacy. Which is why it is conversational.
Its gets better -
The next DAY wipes out the previous. Other topics, matters then take up the space. It does not dwell, stagnate and fester. ‘Where is the time in the hustle and bustle of life’
Ending of course with one of the lines of my Father’s poem - Jeevan ki aapadhapi mein kab waqt mila, kuch der kahin par baith kabhi yeh soach sakun, jo kiya , kaha mana, usme kya bura bhala …
The immediate response to that came in rapidly ~
As
far as I am aware, the confessional is only one of a variety of styles
which a diary or autobiography may take. The Western confessional style
is largely a somewhat secularised Protestant confabulation (with the
invention of Protestantism, there was the rearranging of an
individual’s relationship to their Christian god from that of a
distanced intercession through the Church, to that of a direct,
one-to-one interaction. Hence, the individual’s conscience spoke
directly to the Christian god; there was no longer the need for
confession to a priest, as in Catholicism.). Hence, I am not so keen on
the confessional approach. I think it not only beneath one’s dignity to
confess to all and sundry about the nature of one’s internal life or
private existence, but it encourages self-justification and is bound to
end in hypocrisy.
Your father, in his autobiography, I think him largely successful in
achieving the feat of avoiding this ubiquitous style, as well as any
other stylisation, because he could simply tell a good story without
need of literary props. Most people simply cannot rely on such talent I
suppose. The rest of us are condemned to
tragical-historical-comical-pastoral, one-act plays or long poems.
And so it continues, as is the wont of every debate. Interesting and most knowledged I thought and hence a desire to share the same with you and with due apologies to my friend.
But just as much as these arguments thrashed each other out, Rochelle, the lovely Rochelle, came out with an interesting response.
“It’s when you start to answer yourself that you have to begin worrying.”
She elaborates in one her many comments and I find it most pertinent in the lay out of the discussions that occur.
A confessional does indeed encourage self -justification. You want to get rid of any burden of guilt or perceived wrong doing by spilling it out. Religion may have provided a handy tool in indulging in it and giving it some sanctity. In Catholicism as my friend demonstrates or in the act of seeking pardon for any wrong deed in Islam - the Shab e Barrat, just having gone by. The God’s were aware of human frailties and gave us divine opportunity for correction. But it does in the end possess the nagging danger of hypocrisy. It could all begin to look terribly sanctimonious, until human nature overpowered you and you made another mistake ; waiting then for the year to bring back that auspicious moment when the God’s shall provide you with another opportunity to cleanse yourself.
This wait, is the moment that fills you with the desire for answers. And you worry, as Rochelle says, because your answers may not be what you want them to be. For, most of the time, we look for answers that we want to hear. The human is his own best master, but it seeks the divine because the divine doesn’t ask any questions, nor does it thrust upon it any answers. The divine merely performs and we accept.
“You cannot teach a man anything. You can only help him discover it within himself”
- Galileo Galilei
May you always be with ‘all things bright and beautiful’ ~
Amitabh Bachchan
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