Three days back on the path to grab seats in bus, my sister, brother-in-law and I, we saw a guy rush to a girl yelling at top of his voice. From the cacophony we could make out the girl’s cell phone was switched off and the guy was worried. So in his worried mind he began yelling and shouting at the girl who by now we know was his girlfriend.
By the time we were sitting in the bus I was witnessing what the Bongs of this State call as 'Scene'. The guy in his red kurta embroidered with golden thread, white trousers, nerdy glasses and tall physique could win many heart had his mouth been shut. While the girl was is regular brown shirt, black jeans, mojari shoes and her curly hair made into a bun was worth a glance. This good looking couple were fighting and my family and I with rest of the passengers were watching a lovers’ quarrel minus the fluffy and romantic aspect of it.
The genuine reaction of the ingrained female dignity in me wanted to slap the guy behalf of that girl. The girl was trying to pacify this hulk in red kurta but the guy decided to throw the cell phone on the road. Finally the girl burst out and after an all out word war, the girl left the arena without looking back once. Eventually the guy picked up the pieces of cell phone and began following her. That was that of the entire story.
Deep inside I wanted to go and help that girl who may or may not have been in trouble. But on other side I was annoyed by this public display of verbal violence. In books love-hate relationships are wonderful to gulp down. Reality is harsher, the socialist I wanted to go ahead to be a saviour and flaunt kindness. The coward I kept tickling that it was not my business and while I kept deciding the lovers had left battle field. The reason I did not jump to help them was because of the discourse of perspective.
I have had this inner battle many times. I did go out of my own way few times to induce feministic zeal in girls who lacked a world beyond lovers. When I say feministic zeal I do not intend the convinced idea of creation of an army of man haters! I mean the creation of an individual thought process that has nothing to do with man or beyond man in one's life. I even poked my button nose in a relationship that had full potential to turn into a classic story of domestic violence had the couple married. Did I chop my feet with ax? I danced in the field of axes.
I have been warned many times by my fellow mates that my over involvement and sudden lack of involvement in others life will harm me. I love helping people but when it comes to my own decision making I am a puppet with multiple strings attached to hierarchical bars. Hence I keep trying to poke my nose where I need to. The warning has always come with a question as- why do you try to untangle complex things. I am advised time and again to let things be.
In last six months have met various kinds of people I could have never imagined to be. From hardcore feminist to homophobes I have seen them well and nice, up and close. Some are accumulating degrees because the heavenly door of marriage has not opened to them. Another lot is busy complicating a simple process of answering a simple question. If one is detached from reality another is to close emotions that it creeps one out, if I meet an antisocial in morning I am bound to stumble to a pervert by evening.
For first time in my life my idea of complexity seems simple. I thought a love triangle was complex, but as I gain maturity which I think I am, it seems a love line is much more complex. The working of my minds is defiantly different from others. The circuits in my brain were based on one thing, if the stimuli I receive help me grow I respond if they don’t I reject them. But now it seems there is no constancy in the quality of stimulus.
Now that I think about it, I do feel bad for not jumping and punching that tall guy who thought the girl was his property. I wanted to hit him because he was behaving like an uncultured human devoid of his rationality. We all have anger but watching him reminded me off various couples I encountered in trains, buses, parks and college. Off them all it reminded of a particular senior of mine who had held his girlfriend’s arm and was both twisting and pulling her out of college. She was wearing the pink uniform and trying to hold the painful tears in those doe eyes. At that moment I had absolute moment of clarity, but on this other moment I did not.
I was like the photo journalist my friend was complaining about. The once who are watching a building burn down or watching a tiger being killed or a girl being molested in road. They just keep snapping and filming without trying to save the so called victim they are going to air about.
P.S- Too many discourse in my system made me forget how to react!
thanking you to bear with me