Sunday, October 11, 2015


One of the gifts psychoanalysis conferred on me was the awareness that there was more than what met the eye. To me such a thought, in adolescence, would have been salutary given my oversensitive , overwrought tearfulness at any appearance of firmness, which i took to be, both an affirmation of something ignoble in me and a certain insensitivity in the admonisher. While i resented being subject to arbitrary humiliation the prospect of victimhood lent my lachrymose self pity a certain grandeur.
Moving on to a more measured discernment of nuance at university crippled me even more. I complimented myself on my prescience yet counteracted the disquiet it inveigled with supplication and a desire not to give offence.It wasn't obsequiousness though there was a certain deference in it. Even now, conspicuous demonstrations of meanness and vulgarity make me withdraw though i am not unaverse to a certain self exhibitionism specially if it reveals a certain ironic awareness of itself mingled with pride that such knowledge exists. I augment it with alternations of self reviling and self complacence. But in reality this is an unexceptional human reality. Nor is knowledge of it commendable, if its only fruits are stasis, uninformed by action and a crystallization of a putative wisdom.
Purposive action seems to me quite relevant despite whatever unconscious darkness. More often than not appearances are the truth, whatever truth is or at least as close an approximation of it as is possible. It is disingenuous to suspect each solecism as rebarbative or each display of warmth as an underlying opportunism. That i sometimes evince paroxysms of self hatred in attributing this to my interlocutors seems more a realization of the complexity of the world than some underlying impulse of darkness in me. In all sincerity i perceive in myself a certain absence of guile though cultivating guilelessness over the years, in adherence to a self mythology has made the impulse seem natural. Or else a certain layer of artifice has been denuded or ,in all likelihood, some immanent impulse has been actualized. I can be quite voluble in my protestations of guilelessness, itself a symptom of a desire to convince and superimpose. The indeterminacy of its unmediated reception galls me but its absorption in others and their attendant reciprocal warmth affirms the larger preponderant impulse than self gratification though one is ,in a sense, gratified by the fact of one's sense of being being seen , not in its messy , misshapen convolution but a certain indwelling relationality.
One can go neurotic in trying to plumb the labyrinth of the human mind. All one has are patterns which one must scrupulously avoid seeing as incontrovertible. The patterns may convey partial truths but are provisional. Lately my response to any unreasonable affront on me is to let the person who hurt me know, with my impression of rationality, conveyed through psychological jargon, the filthiness entombed in themselves. This may be petty vituperation or a certain enjoyment of holding up a mirror. The compensations of both are illusory. Ultimately closure is that one creates and seeks comfort from knowing it is inadequate but it is all one has. No closure corresponds to one's intrinsic desire for absolute justice or retribution. It is worked through and may be all one has.


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  2. I fear there is no justice anyway, Bharat. It is a human construct and subject to all the prejudices we supposedly battle.