Reporting my change of heart!

Dear Cheeniya

But it pains that cynicism has been branded by you as the hallmark of the geriatric!

:notthatway:

I only mentioned "Geriatric" as adj. to the noun "wet blankets". So its the Wet Blankets, essentially, who are Cynics ( mod. meaning) ; of industrial strength , if geriatric.
Dont I know there are some geriatrics who are NOT wetblankets at all; but are roly-poly laughing buddhas spreading joy and cheer! Thank heavens for such exceptional exceptions !

 

Dear Sri:

Time continues to be my worst enemy, despite the fact that my new found role as a pure "feedback-er" (as opposed to "grumblogger") has made my visits here a peaceful affair. Anyway, I came and found you today. Clearly, it is not possible for me to write a proper fb for this post till I have also read 'A Cynical Look at Cynics'. I have to consume it before it crosses over to the other side of my River of Oblivion. At my age, such things happen with alarming frequency.

In the meantime though, I thought it wouldn't hurt to leave an initial reaction on your 'Change of Heart'.

First, quite inconsequentially, the fable brought back to my mind Shylock saying: Woulds't thou have a serpent sting thee twice? May be not all that inconsequential really. It retains the spirit of the fable in a way I guess.

Second, I have to tell you that I disagree with you about cynics, if, that is, I understood you correctly. I have come across endlessly many cynics who are not perfectionists. And I have come across endlessly many perfectionists who are not cynics at all. Frankly, I am a cynic hater. I hate them from the bottom of my heart with all the venom at my disposal. Having been a part of the teaching profession all my life, I cannot afford to be a cynic. I have to believe even when I start off on my last journey that God created the world with a purpose. He made mistakes of course, but he knew also that humans understood his dreams and would strive hard to realize them. God was happy, though as a perfectionist he knew he had reasons to be unhappy about a lot of things he had created. Yet he was elated that he had managed to create humans.

Hemingway would have put it differently: Man was not meant for defeat. You can kill a man, not defeat him.

A cynic, in my opinion accepts defeat even before he begins. Cynicism, in my view, is a CRIME. A cognizable offence.

No one who is endowed with an urge for creativity, such as the perfectionist you speak of, can ever be cynical. I often thought, Wilde, Shaw and others were cynics. But when I read their works, I changed my mind. Wilde, for example, dedicates a poem to his lady love that contains the line: From a poet to a poem. This is the very person who had nothing but his genius to declare to the Customs officer!

Since you appear to bracket cynics and perfectionists, I do not know what your views would be if you didn't adopt this Siamese twin viewpoint. But I do think that perfectionists fall in a group which is totally free of cynicism, especially cynicism towards the world surrounding it. They are cynical, if at all, about their own pursuits and abilities. They can be immensely unhappy people, but they can also be capable of infinite happiness, a kind of happiness most mortals are denied by Nature or God.

It's a bit like Abdul Karim Khan landing a never ever human vocal chord touched note, a note that he knew from his heart to have existed, and having realized that he had finally found it, even if it were only for a fleeting second in his entire life, softly murmur: Wah, wah! (True story.) He was not patting himself on the back. But he was praising God that he showered so much happiness on him. That he endowed him with the grit to cross all the Saharas of the world in search of the only oasis that he knew, he knew, he knew, he knew, knew, knew ... and he didn't know how, how, how, how, how ... he knew, knew, knew ... would quench his thirst.

A perfectionist, in my opinion, should be the object of kindness because of the endless pain s/he suffers from, on account of her/his dogged failures. (By contrast, a cynic needs to be spurned.) S/He could wait an entire lifetime for the BIG catch (Hemingway), perform a miracle, lose it forever, and yet go to sleep in ecstasy and dream of lions. A perfectionist is unhappy with her/himself till s/he knows s/he's been there. Most of them never manage to reach journey's end, but honesty prevents them from giving up the search.

The perfect bow, the perfect violin, the perfect silk saree to drape the perfect-most woman in the world. Nachiketa in search of Yama. Michelangelo turning stone into butter. A perfectionist dies in pain that God refused to reveal the face of perfection to a mere mortal. Yet s/he smiles as s/he dies. However unfair the battle may be, s/he fights it with God himself.


Perhaps you will disagree with me. But I have spoken from my heart. And I don't think my heart will change. And do forgive me if I misunderstood you.

I don't know why I feel so emotional after reading your post.

Best wishes,

oj

PS Wrote in a hurry. Tolerate the typos please. No don't tolerate, because I revised.

 

@ TL

Just to let you know that your fb to this post fascinated me. Right now I am deeply immersed in a lake of fascination. A very young boy is proof-reading the second edition of my book as the chapters progress. It is a tough book, technically at least, for someone of his age. Yet the work he is doing, free of charge, proves beyond doubt that he is in love with the world of knowledge. And then I came here and read your fb to Cheeniya. The undercurrents dragged me deeper inside the lake. You couldn't be much older than the boy I mentioned. Yet your maturity delights me.

Keep it going. Whenever I read anything you write, I can't help recalling Wilde's Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray:

An artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim.

Love, geriatrically speaking,

oj-da

 

Dear Sri:

I still have a problem. I don't support the attitude of the ancients either. To quote from your reply:

This is precisely what I abhor. I believe that a true creator, a perfectionist, should never sit on judgement on others' shortcomings, however pretentious they may be. A perfectionist (in my opinion of course) is a person who ought to be recognizable by his humility. He is a person who waits with infinite patience for a momentary glimpse of eternity, totally conscious of his own inconsequence.

He might disapprove of charlatans, but he has to ignore his own disapproval. He should be aware of the contradictions between the finite and the infinite, the myopia of existence. He should spend whatever limited time he has at his disposal in search of things as monumental as beauty and truth.

To quote a gem again:

I can understand that I am on the verge of Vaishnavism here (except for the "true pride" part). Silly may be. But can't help it.

All the best.

oj