If Life doesn't care for Life, who/what will?

 What do the following people have in common: A post-doctoral fellow whose research ended abruptly thanks to the economic recession, a biotechnologist from one of India’s top-tier institutions, a displaced famer from the badlands of central India making his first ever terrifying train journey across the country, and a college student hoping to grab a piece of the shining Indian pie? Before you begin to suspect that the answer is an award-winning piece of fiction, let me tell you it is not. These are real people who have somehow all ended up in Madras, now called Chennai, searching, as it is, for their very lives. To me, they represent points along the axes of a dichotomy that is somehow, uniquely, Indian, but also, utterly human. In the year and half since I moved back here, I have felt myself look at life more keenly, and this is only the continuation of a process that began four years ago, in the wilderness of Kenya, where, despite having seen social disparities in different places, the truth of how man was a predator unto man first hit me like the proverbial thunderbolt.

Yes, I will say that again. If human beings suffer, it is in the large because of other human beings, but the shock doesn’t end there. There is a third group of human beings more than ready to profit off this shameless deed. But what is new about this, is the indifferent question that is thrown back at me often. Humans are infinitely, and supremely, capable of such atrocity, and in some sense, have always been. A skimming of social history reveals page after page, decade after decade of such inhuman deeds. To me, the only thing that is different about today is that we possess the means to expose such cruelty as never possible before. Thanks to technology, there are enough media outlets to cast a revealing light on every single inhuman aspect of humanity. All it takes is for sensitive eyes to probe reality where they see it to be shadowed or cloaked in deceit.

Of course, this too boils down to the question of responsibility. How many of us can claim to have weighed for our own self our connection with our world? Who among us can stand up and say they’ve seen more in the world than just the neon lights – the glitter and the glamour? Today, there are enough ways for each of us to awaken to the murky truth that is painted over with shiny colors. But if we choose to ignore that – and this, mind you, applies only to those who have seen beyond the glitter, what purpose the rest of our lives? I place emphasis on the observation of the dichotomy – the seam-split of life. If you haven’t noticed that life isn’t exactly smooth sailing, like Anand and Deepa Ranthidevan perhaps, you are not going to realize what you’ve missed. I will return to the story of this couple in a moment, but continuing on those who realize life isn’t exactly a finely tailored fabric and does have a gaping hole in the back though the front seems eminently presentable, I ask if they ever felt a sense of “I must not let the hole be hidden from other eyes”.

The story of the Ranthidevans made me shudder for a host of reasons. How could they have thought their life was “full”? How could they have traveled around the world, and not realized that life can have an endless assortment of possibilities? How did they define “being happy”? I don’t pass judgment on their decision, but I do question it. In part because I know I would not have taken that route had I been in their shoes. And I don’t make that comment from idleness - at two junctures of my life, I have stared at the dark innards of my mind and asked if I would ever think of giving up on life. The answer both times was a firm and immediate no. I value life and I see much in it – beautiful, ugly or indifferent. I empathize with every emotion that tints life, but only where I understand it. Where I don’t, I seek comprehension with the utmost of my abilities.

To all my friends who’ve taken the pain of reading this far, the question that I am revolving around is this: can we as human beings make whatever attempt possible (even lifting your little finger counts!) to redress this imbalance? Isaac Asimov once postulated laws for robots, the first, and foremost, of which reads: “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.” In his series of novels, Asimov later went one step further, to include a “Zeroth Law”, which states “A robot may not harm humanity, or, by inaction, allow humanity to come to harm.” I have often wondered, since reading the novels, if it is possible to apply these same laws for humans, If we reduce our lives to modules of function – of following a routine of dictated tasks (as I suspect the Ranthidevans did) , how better are we than robots? Surely, the human aspect of us comes from our ability to emote and feel for another human being? Can we convert this emotion into something more than just a chemical outburst? Can we channel it and make change happen? I ask you but this – try this with yourself. Next time, you get really angry with the world or something or someone, force yourself to sit down and breathe. Next, ask yourself how you can alleviate your anger by constructively working with whatever makes you angry. If you can effect this change within that microscopic aspect of your life, you will know you have the power to go further, much further. It is with some pain that I fleetingly wonder if the Ranthidevans ever thought of the difference they could make to the world – by being in it. 

To close, I come back to my four introductory characters, if it isn't already obvious how their lives have become victims of human predatory instincts. The post doctoral fellow's grant was abruptly canceled because the government thought it more important to lend money to banks than to educational institutions. The biotechologist is being refused a job because he is honest enough to admit that he needs the money more than the job. The farmer has been displaced because greedy politicians see his land as another means of filling their overflowing, black coffers. The college student has been sold an absolutely worthless education for an exorbitant price with the promise that it will pave the road to proportionally greater riches for him. Did anyone of them have a choice in the matter? They didn't, but they were victimized by those who had choices to make, and simply put, did not choose humanity.