We, the Indians, are an ingenious lot. We fib to jump across seemingly impossible hurdles (whatever habitual violators of punctuality cook up in a flash, for instance; or whatever legal advisors proclaim at times in a court of law in defence of their clients). We feign illness to use accumulated sick leaves that would lapse otherwise and gladly pay whatever sum the smiling doctor demands (which is a bribe, even though it is dressed as a charge for professional services rendered) for a medical certificate stating an illness that requires five-day bed rest (when one is probably stretched out in a five-star swimming pool with a glass of some light brown liquid waiting for the ‘sick’ person’s attention by the edge of the pool) and a supporting prescription that commands a stiff drug cocktail (while the person digs into french fries with cheese and more to generate calories that the person on leave wouldn’t need anyway).
We are an ingenious lot not because we have had eight Nobel prize winners of Indian origin. They probably preferred roaming in their own ionosphere preoccupied with their thoughts, least bothered about how the rest of humanity managed down below.
We are ingenious because we find ways to justify our uncivil public behaviour (a political leader recently slapped a man in a train — the video grab was crystal- clear — and claimed that he was waving his arm asking the man to move away; and the seemingly ingenuous man stood up in his defence later; or the minister who forced a flight to stay put because a team member got the wrong passport; or a uniformed guardian of law spitting on a tricycle ferrying baskets of apples and the sputum spraying the fruit).
We are an ingenious lot because we try to defend the indefensible and succeed (a former Union telecom minister who opened an exclusive telephone exchange in his house for the benefit of his brother; and now keeps the details interred in his chest, like a treasure chest-deep in the sea; or the fiery woman, a former Union railway minister, who probably used a broom and her ingenuous henchmen to sweep a car project out but now refuses to pick up the same broom against her partymen freely indulging in crimes of all sorts).
We are also an ingenious lot as we (including you, the reader) wear our self-devised blinkers tightly that protect our self-preservation instinct. We dare to dream big as most of us are assured of a home and a hearth. We know of the reality beyond our circle of assured existence, but we choose the path of least resistance that suits our aims and our dreams.
We read of death and mayhem in the daily newspapers but that never dents our fortified perimeter round our microcosm. We read of rapes, frightening murders that at times put ISIS butchery to shame, thefts, robberies and cheats; but the shelf life of the information in our heads is less than a few hours at most, saving us from nightmares. We fail to respond to the external stimuli probably because it doesn’t fit into our larger aim in life: undisturbed comfort.
We are an ingenuous lot as we believe in human mediation to access divine grace (watch the patience of people standing in long queues to have a look at and pray with the aid of priests to God at a temple, ignoring that godness, which stands for goodness, is a quality within and cannot be infused, like intravenous injection from without; or watch people tossing handfuls of jewellery into sacks watched by hawk-eyed guards).
We are also an ingenuous lot because we believe in choosing our public representatives when the turn comes for the choice. To us, it is a choice of whom we believe in, no matter what the past record of the person could be, among all else in the ring. Most of us, the blessed lot, are certain that we don’t need to be bribed for exercising our franchise.
But to those ingenuous lot whose existence we are aware of and for whom we do nothing, it is a choice between the truth and a good meal for the whole family, or a rare occasion to sip something exotic. Once every five years.
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