My Stories of Intolerance: Part IV

Of late I have realised that I always, no matter what, think whatever I like is the thing to be liked and whoever likes something I hate is a big time idiot. This problem of superiority based on my own logic and calculation is quite an annoying thing. Over the years, as I have grown and learnt things, I have come to be more and more critical of people who like something I don’t.

It evolves from a simple rationale that I am well read and so my logic ought to be right. To simplify things, I seriously doubt people’s mental ability who say Shah Rukh Khan entertains in Happy New Year. Taking another example, I consider people who like novels of Chetan Bhagat are complete disgrace to society.

If I back up a bit and get a little perspective, I realise that it is their lives, let them believe or read whatever they like. It is not necessary that everyone follow the person who I consider better. In my scathing attacks, at times sheer pity, I forget that not all people are alike and I may very well be a moron for others. When I call someone a pseudo intellectual for their beliefs, there must be many who would consider me the same.

People as a word is heterogenous. Individuals have their own individuality. Despite my qualifications and skills, good or bad, I am not what others are and so others won’t be what I am. I am writing this and I know I would insult someone tomorrow itself when I see him sharing an image asking for ‘likes’ on a Facebook post on the pretext of a cow being slaughtered.

Individuals are like different plants growing in different conditions and consuming sixty different types of elements from soil, water and air in different quantities. The growth depends on the amount of light, water, temperature and nutrients among other factors. Humans are more complex. We grow listening to different people, watching different things, reading different books, growing in different societies and cultures. So it can’t be possible for everyone to decipher why Sartre refused the literature Nobel or why is Stalker considered a great film!

My problem doesn’t end at abhorrence of the individual’s choice rather it goes on to put a question in mind, “How can one do this?” This, I believe, is dangerous. I question the collective wisdom of an individual and his/her upbringing. I at times feel stressed on their supposed stupidity. It drives me crazy thinking of all the harm such individuals can do to society and how they are pulling humanity back by their choices.

The words that I choose to mock, question or insult those sound normal to me but my friends would later on tell me they were not. And I remember then not to be raw in my criticism. My honesty has made me notorious villain in many people’s lives and friend of very few. Pursuit of truth and it must be known in bold and black has backfired, more often than not.

I have no tolerance for such people. At times, when you spend too much time somewhere you tend to get in to too much of details, the fine prints. The general gives way to particular. And humans being more interested in follies, you look for errors and deviations. You find them and react. This reaction is totally unnecessary.

Someone reading Chetan Bhagat might have totally different requirements in life. It’s like a play where someone chooses to be the king, the general or a simple foot soldier. Aspirations vary from one to another but one’s aspiration can’t be better than another’s. It is simply a matter of choice and circumstances one is in or has been brought up in to.

Not everyone likes Sachin Tendulkar, Roger Federer or Michael Schumacher when statistically, the most apt way to judge ones abilities fairly, suggest they are the greatest in their fields. But then people go on length to convince you that certain player who played just for three years is their favourite. They have their opinion.

This much said and written, I still can’t believe that some people choose what they choose. It is inherent in me to induce some reaction when I read, see or listen about them. Earlier, I used to tell people not to do that, I would block those on social media, and tell them flat that I didn’t like them. This all adds up and makes me bad to many people. I don’t really care what others think about me but at the same time I mustn’t care about other people’s choices as well.

It’s my life, I choose to be a smarty pants. That’s all fine. But even when others are idiots, it shouldn’t be my duty to keep reminding them. May be they are not idiots. May be they are doing great in their lives by their yardsticks. May be no one asked me to judge or question others’ opinion. May be I should let things pass and not delve deeper. May be people don’t want to know. So, may be I shouldn’t care.

Advertisements

One thought on “My Stories of Intolerance: Part IV

  1. “Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
    -F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Did you like the post, how about giving your views...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s