Unscrupulously unique 

Mothers are efficient and absolutely excellent task masters. They have a flair of inflicting the right amount of guilt trip in order to entrap us into doing something that we wouldn’t bother volunteering for. Mine has never been an exception to the game. I remember the million times where my mom had played the “there are soooooooooo many kids who aren’t fortunate enough to secure a single meal, Karthik” card. 

I’ve never been a fussy eater and that being said, I’ve never really shied away from wasting food either. My mom’s conditioning did leave a lasting impression for the longest time in my life. I used to feel extremely guilty over wasting food. In time, thanks to the miracles of unlearning, I got over the guilt. I guess one can say that I’d feel ridiculously guilty now if I didn’t manage to waste any food. 

While the blog shares borders with cards that mothers use, the focus is on the hypocrisy of selective comparison which often goes both unnoticed and unpunished. This is the day and age of leaving our own unique foot print across the face of the earth. We are unique in our own ways. We feel insulted when we are stereotyped. We’d rather fancy being the ugly duckling than having a common identity as a flock of white geese. Yeah, maybe that’s a stretch. We’d rather be a gander of goose than stand apart as an ugly duck! 

So the hypocrisy mandates that one stays away from comparing one’s gifts, abilities and special talent with others around the same neighbourhood. So no more Mr Gutpa’s kid is better at math or little miss Shalu being the brightest kid on the block. Fair enough. There is then the opposite side of the spectrum. Do not lament your own shortcoming because there are blokes out there for whom even your annoying challenge is distant dream. There are millions who endure and survive on lot less than what we have in our inventory of life. 

Both comparisons do make a little sense , given the context of wanting to stay satisfied with what we have, playing the cards we were dealt with, living the moment of real and present rather than living through an inflated bubble of what ifs and wish I had that. Perfect so far and the question begs to be asked. So WHAT

Yes there are a lot of folks unfortunate with luck and material promises. So what? One can sympathise, one can offer a helping hand, one can also do what one can in order to make the world a better place for the rest of us. That’s acceptable and sure is an honourable gesture of sorts.

What doesn’t gel well with me is that assurance that we are in a better state than those who’ve not been lucky enough. While the statement can be sugar coated beyond all recognition and end up as a forced moto for settling down with unsatisfying mediocrity. 

The point in case is that when we are unhappy with things around us, either we try to change the world around us to keep ourselves satisfied, or we change ourselves to keep ourselves satisfied. At no point in time does our decision to make peace with ourselves rest on the fragile fate of the world around us. If I were to abstain from any moment of celebration because that very instant there could be a bloke in distress, I’d have managed to lead a life of being cold to any and all expression of emotions. That to me, sounds like a raw deal. 

A quiet banter kick started the thoughts. The usual forwards about the million forms of positivity around and the relentless comeback of a quicker whine about how Mondays were later, the eventual Gyan followed up. 

It does make me wonder at times. I see the world as different forms of people. 
Some give, because they didn’t receive. Some give because it buys them a ticket to heaven (allegedly) , some give because it makes them feel better about themselves and some give because they don’t know how to not give at all. Is it even fair to judge the motives? 
The age where the unscrupulously unique soar high in the skies of delusions, is it even wise to question that status quo? 

Karthik

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