It was rather silly. Even so, looking back, I don't seem to feel
the way I should if I did think the whole episode silly indeed. Perhaps
that has got to do with the fact that I WANT people to approve of what I do–all
the time. And it’s high time I leave that in a Godforsaken graveyard.
Well, It so happened that, one fine day, it rained in Pune and the place where I
reside—Akurdi, a suburb of Pune—tends to bring out its darkest shade of green
when that happens. This is the first proper monsoon here—rather it shows the
trappings of being one—ever since I moved to this place. And I was pretty
elated about it, really.
The park that shares the boundary wall of my
apartment's compound was ablaze with red, green, and earthy brown. The hot
tired and listless yellow grass had allowed itself to be swept out of the park
as the rains dusted the grounds with a lovely carpet dipped in a
comforting green that pleased my eye. Which got me to get out of my plastic
chair and open my cupboard and search for my camera.
Well, once I found the camera, I clicked photographs of the park.
I clicked from windows in my bedroom, my parent's bedroom, and then I shot some
more photographs from the balcony. And in a rare brash undisciplined and
unregulated moment of happiness, I updated my Facebook status with something
about the rains and posted the photographs on my profile as well.
Strangely, it was the status—and not the photographs—that started
the whole thing. You see a friend of mine—well, let's say: he's an acquaintance—remarked:
“Down falls the pollution.”
Now I know he has a habit of shoving the stick into the dog's
mouth and beckoning the dog to bite his arm. And yet, I fell for that. I
countered his comment with: No, it's not polluted here. It's quite pleasant
etc., etc.
“No,” he commented, “it isn't. It made my eyes burn when I visited
Pune. It was horrible, etc., etc.”
I said: “No, it isn't that. Mumbai is worse. Try visiting Andheri
East at 12 noon.”
That was it! All hell broke loose! Thereafter, the comment
exchange descended into a rather embarrassing war of sentences. He kept saying
Pune is terrible and cited examples to prove his point and I kept saying it's
not and also quoted my own examples to prove my point.
Finally, I was the one who snapped. I was mightily irritated and,
in the end, said: “Yes. I know you are trying to irritate me and so you win.”
After that, all was silent. It was as if a truce was signed and we
were no longer to talk to each other for a while!
It's been a week or so since that episode. And today, as I was halfway
through writing about it, I went to dine in the hall. I sat at the table and
began with my dinner. That was when I realized why I allowed myself to be
dragged into that blasted argument: I was trying to get him to agree to
what I had to say and he was trying to get me to agree to his point! It was
doomed to end disastrously. And that's what happened:
I deleted him from my friends list! Haha! I know it does not quite
sound all that disastrous but well, it sounds disastrous to me! Haha! :)
Really, it was silly of me to try to garner approval at all! After
all, I chose to shift to Pune because I knew it catered to me and my parents
the way Mumbai didn't. It was my decision just as it was my acquaintance's
decision to deride my decision.
The fact is: People make choices because they have to. I did that
too, and I am happy about it. Obviously then, if I AM happy, I don't think
I need anyone's endorsement of the place where I stay, the place I left,
etc., etc. I am happy despite the fact that my acquaintance is happy staying
wherever he has to.
It makes no difference to me at all. For well, it doesn't matter.
So, yes it was silly of me to argue–just as it is silly of me to
get irritated when people shake their heads, make sounds such as “Tch tch
tch” and ask why the name of a place sounds so weird.
Well, if you aren't accustomed to hearing something, you will
find it weird.
Just as I find it very weird that a town—up in Madhya Pradesh—is
named Ratlam: a very South-Indian
name to my hearing! Or that I think Tiruchirapalli,
Thiruvananthapuram amusing, and that
I can say: "I want to go visit the Rann of
Kuchh” and not scandalize anyone in Gujarat! Had it not been for such—and
similar—weirdness, no city (or country for that matter) would have a story
to tell or a grouse to write about. And believe you me, those very people
would shake their heads then, make those “Tch tch tch” sounds and ask: “Why
are all the places so alike?!”
Anyway, coming back to my silly argument, it left me with one less
friend on Facebook. Well, it doesn't matter. I am sure I have learnt my
lesson:
·
Smile and walk away. Or paste a smiley,
like the comment that is to provoke you, lighten up and live the day!
·
And approve not your desire to yearn for
the approval of the whole wide world. Your own approval is all that matters.
The rest can get into your right ear and fly out through the left.
That sounds more like a bunch of lessons than one! Haha! Well, it
serves me right. :)
And I am sure that erstwhile Facebook friend of mine has learnt
his too. His lesson may not be similar to mine, but well, does it matter? :)
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