pachai maamalai pol mene

Friday, November 12, 2010

objectivity



objectivity


We human beings are trying to see the world around us wearing coloured glasses.. I do not mean the colour belonging to the electomagnetic spectrum, but I mean our attitudes. Most of the things we perceive are praised to condemned or ignored mostly on the basis of tags attached to them. The persons, the environments, the objectives.. are all judged on the basis of our perception of balance of convenience I do not say this is wrong.

Sure, a bird in hand is worth more than hundreds in the bush".

Still I am tempted to raise a question as to why we should not break loose from such set ideas at least on rare occasions?

Do not we have a pesonality, an Individual and objective existence, distinct from the herd psychology?


My thoughts were triggered on these lines as a result of silent study of even small insignificant things like posting and liking or replying to posts in these social fora.

One is sure that nothing breathtaking can happen here.

One can also understand that a friend or relative requires and craves for at least lip support (or keyboard support) in social media. But when it is seen that something which is unworthy of any praise is being eulogized only as a matter of mutual backscratching while accomplishments of better worth are ignored and are seen lying uncared for in the immediate proximity one is prompted to ask oneself whether one has to laugh or cry.

There is a sanskrit saying which on free translation would read like this..." there is a happy celebration going on in a camel family and the vocal music is provided by the guest of honour, Mr. Donkey and his family. The guests and hosts are in competition in praising each other.. The donkeys are all praise for the heavenly beauty of the camels, and the camels are not far behind in paying full-throated accolades to the musical talents of the donkeys.
(उष्ट्राणां वै कुले लघ्नं गीतं गायन्ति गर्दभाः परस्परं प्रशंसन्तः अहो रूपं अहो ध्वनिः )

Maybe a donkey at home is worth many nightingales in the bush