The other day I had the singular misfortune of viewing an old clip of Meera reciting her own ‘poetry’ on a TV show. That alone would have been cringeworthy enough. What made it even more unwatchable was the fact that she was doing it in front of Ahmad Faraz! Of course, the poetry was beyond pathetic, and (predictably) she had no idea just how bad it was. On the contrary, she seemed very pleased with it; so too the host who, apparently possessing an even worse aesthetic taste, would not stop praising her effort.
Ignorance is bliss, it is said. Ignorance for whom, though? This part is not usually mentioned. The episode sure was delightful for Meera and the host of the show. Not so much for Faraz, nor for any sensible viewer for whom it was unendurable torture. An obviously distressed Faraz must have entertained some pretty unmentionable thoughts. But to his immense credit, though he squirmed in his chair he showed impressive composure by not giving in to any criminal temptations.
Here is some food for thought: What if Meera knew perfectly well how abysmal her poetry was, but had basked in the glory regardless? That would have been rank dishonesty on her part. The way the by-now infamous college student acted in a bait baazi contest when, not knowing any relevant couplet, he invented a particularly atrocious one on the spot. Of course, for all her faults the one thing Meera cannot be accused of is scheming of that sort. But, for the sake of the argument, would such a deliberate act (on Meera’s part) have been any better (or worse) than the one based on her blissful delusion of adequacy?
Oft-times one finds it easier to tolerate stupidity as compared to evil. That is why we tend to forgive minors, the senile, the Meeras of the world, and those with medically certified cognitive deficiencies for the exact same behaviour that we have a hard time tolerating such behaviour on the part of those who have no such excuses.
On other occasions (and in a different mood) one finds silliness or plain stupidity a much sterner test of one’s patience than conspiracies and machinations which one finds oneself on the receiving end of. In that frame of mind, one is convinced that there is a certain heroism in facing evil without oneself stooping to those depths. It is common to regard wrongful behaviour as a sort of debt, and behaving admirably under those circumstances as a sort of credit for oneself (debt for the party indulging in wrongdoing). No such consolation is there when it is obvious that the other party is acting out of plain stupidity, for it is harder to think of the matter in terms of credit/debt.
Evil and stupidity are necessary ingredients of the world without which heroism and wisdom would also lose their meanings. Those who understand this maintain their cheerfulness in the face of silly and nefarious behaviour, and suffer their unavoidable share of that behaviour without letting themselves become bitter in the process. These are the heroes. Whether they are recognized as such or remain unsung is beside the point. For could anything be not only nobler but (in the medium-to-long-term) also wiser than being positive, thankful, cheerful, and happy for everybody? If so, could there possibly be any better gift that one could give to oneself?
Most of us vacillate between these two positions depending on our circumstances and how our moods strike us on any given day. Do the circumstances of the other party make any difference though? In other words, is evil a greater bane to society than stupidity, or vice versa? Also, should one deal with the two differently? I have thought long and hard on these questions.
The older I get the more I feel inclined to the view that there is no clear line separating stupidity from evil. Even if such a line does exist, it is an extremely thin one. It is therefore best not to see it as a stupidity vs evil issue. For the two items are one and the same: stupidity happens to be the greatest of evils; and conversely, to choose to be evil is to choose to be stupid as well. Because, while evildoers are rightly considered villains, they happen to be clowns as well– because in the ultimate analysis, the joke is on them.
Grudging other people their success and happiness, indulging in double dealing and intrigue, playing the victim, being unduly proud, spying on others, anticipating the worst possible behaviour from others and acting to pre-empt that, complaining and whining, being angry all the time, and basing one’s behaviour on extreme and perpetual entitlement are some of the more common manifestations of social evil. Considering that these are also some of the surest recipes for making oneself miserably unhappy, can stupidity ever be separated from evil?
Evil and stupidity are necessary ingredients of the world without which heroism and wisdom would also lose their meanings. Those who understand this maintain their cheerfulness in the face of silly and nefarious behaviour, and suffer their unavoidable share of that behaviour without letting themselves become bitter in the process. These are the heroes. Whether they are recognized as such or remain unsung is beside the point. For could anything be not only nobler but (in the medium-to-long-term) also wiser than being positive, thankful, cheerful, and happy for everybody? If so, could there possibly be any better gift that one could give to oneself?
