The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Today was one of the days where I was feeling a bit queasy, well not in the gastronomic sense of the word, but just a non-specific discomfort, dunno where. By some crazy coincidence had to go to ‘Not just jazz by the bay’ where they were playing some rock today, so I landed up in that over-populated, over-sexed place which was so damn smoky inside that it seemed that I had entered a sauna-bath parlour or something.

We found a coupla guys inside huddled in an impossible corner, frantically jerking their heads and swigging beer. Contrary to what I thought, it was pretty refreshing, away from the bored silence of my room. The music was jarring; it seeped through the walls and the panelling with those vibrations flowing right under my ass, titillatingly. No wonder most of the folks were standing. With all that rock beating about in hopeless futility and some beer down, I actually felt good. Amidst such noise I could think, finding coherence at the height of incoherence, another of the weirdass paradoxes of life. I had actually been thinking about this for a while now, and this was the right moment to think, I could do it swaying my head as if being possessed and all.

What is good? Good for me, for you, and the world in general? I didn’t know. I grew up thinking that people who drink, party mad, smoke-up are bad, all that changed pretty fast. My convictions, my beliefs changed as I realised that people who did not indulge in all that ‘dirty’ stuff have never tried it, they’ve just played safe, quarantining the rest. Not pointing to anything here, but just that these ‘good’ guys are half-witted and were in no position to comment about anything.

If morality was a question of time, so was our outlook. Who’s bad or ugly is just about perspectives, perception frames, logic bubbles, et al. As I thought, I spotted a hideous creature. This chick wore a dark top, her huge jugs flattened by the fabric, splayed all over her torso. I really hoped she was wearing some kind of a bra, didn’t want to imagine her without one. Talk about disturbing images. Her belly uncomfortably jutted out of a cheap leather steel- studded belt, the kind Russell Crowe wears in Gladiator. Her ass sagged in that frayed denim skirt that kissed her shiny red toes. Oh God, was she ugly? I can swear she was, but probably much better than me in many more ways than one. Maybe her physical ugliness diffused into her character as well? maybe not? When Toifler suggested that we need to learn, unlearn and relearn all the time, was he bang-on. I was relearning the basics of not gauging people based on certain principles, they could be goddamn misleading.

I couldn’t help thinking about our own mythology, Ravana our epic villain, who was bumped off by Ram in that fierce battle, was supposed to be bad. Or at least that’s what’s taught. And remember, good wins over the evil... But I recall reading somewhere that another version of Ramayana says that when Ram took out his brahmastra (divine weapon) gifted by the supreme God Brahma and fired it at the demon king, Ravana accepted it. He could have slung the brahmastra he possessed, but that would have meant complete annihilation, assuming apocalyptic proportions, destroying mankind. Two brahmastras against each other releases a lot of unwanted energy, like two similar forces pitted against the other. He could have been a bad sport, after all wasn’t he evil. Anyways he was dying; Ram was a mighty good shot. Ravana wanted the well-being of his people. He was defending his turf where Ram was chasing his vain ego. Who’s good? Who’s bad? Both? None? Maybe.

No point playing safe and crawl your way to a hundred years, it was much more exciting to try new things and drop-off in the middle. This was not my conclusion, just another musing. I was quite incapable of concluding now; the music was a bit too much. Initially you make friends with people based on certain characteristics you like, you identify with, you come closer to them, hang out with them and all, and then is exposed the jagged realities, the ghastly underbellies, all a part of the same individual. Probably familiarity does breed contempt. There seemed no solution available to define parameters of goodness, to scale folks and grade them which would remain unchanged over a fairly long period of time. Yes, honest people are good, but most people are equally honest, the rest being a bit careless with the truth. Nothing makes sense to me now, writing when I am pissed drunk at 3 in the morning… Nobody’s good, none’s bad, we all are ugly, ugliness prevailing under a delightful veneer of goodness….