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The Writing On The Wall
I once read an inscription on a wall that ran along these lines, “Give us your appreciation. Even contempt is welcome, but do not be indifferent to us”. It was said in the context of an organization, but as I ponder it now, it seems like the most basic plea a man could make of his fellow men.
I remember reading the line through many times before I allowed my gaze to slip to the name of the man to whom it was attributed.
I remember registering surprise at finding my grandfathers name there.
But now, in retrospect I feel that it is only fitting that he should have said it so clearly, long before I discovered it for myself. And I did discover it for myself.
At the time it seemed like a nice thing to quote one day, but standing where I do now, the depth and feeling of it is almost painful.
Indifference is perhaps the cruelest form of punishment that can be inflicted by one human upon the other.
Worse than capital punishment even. Most radicals express themselves in a manner that is either ‘socially unacceptable’ or ‘revolutionary’ or ‘path-breaking’, the choice of adjective depending on the level to which they have shaken society. The fact that the only tangible changes to the social fabric are made by such individuals and their actions is irrelevant at this time. What is relevant is that every such individual, be he serial killer or saint, has in common with the rest one thing and one thing only. Each one of them wishes to be acknowledged.
Love or hatred, fear or reverence, respect or disgust, any kind of reaction will do. Each one of these people is a physicist and a musician in spirit, banging the metallic exoskeleton of society, expecting as his or her reward only the vibrations of an equal reaction, whether opposite or parallel.
The worst failure a man can encounter is to have society ignore his blows, or to respond feebly in return.
When a man sets out to make himself seen, heard, felt, he expects to see people respond. He expects people to either applaud him or boo him, to either love him or hate him, to either like or despise him, but he expects some sort of a response. And any man brave enough to take on society deserves a response.
Christ was a lucky man to be crucified. At least his words carried some meaning. At least he caused people to consider him a threat, if nothing else. And that is just speaking of the men who shared a time span with him. What of the millions who revere and worship him to this day? And the soldier who administered the coup de grace? He will always be remembered as an afterthought. He is insignificant. He is merely the man who killed Christ’s body. He makes no difference to any one. I say his fate was worse than the man on the cross.
Hitler. A thoroughly despicable man. One who is universally condemned. What success! He set out to dominate the world. And he succeeded. To this day, the first name to come to mind when one speaks of evil men is his. He has the honor of heading at least one list.
Years after his death he still commands the hatred of billions. He will never be forgotten.
What do they have in common? Only that they got the reaction they sought of society.
At least in magnitude. And magnitude is what counts. The modulus. The absolute value.
If I can make a man hate me to the point where he wakes up each morning and thinks, “I hate Arjun Venkatraman”, I will consider it as big a success as having made someone love me. For merely by thinking of me, he has acknowledged my existence and by acknowledging that I exist he pays me homage.
The day I cannot be significant enough for people around me to react to me, I have failed.
Cobain! You were right!