Funny thoughts....

It is so encouraging that there is so much of fun and laughter in this beautiful world. Still, it is disheartening to experience when it resides elsewhere than in a joyous soul…

Why is an Introspective Mind here?

While choosing the title of my blog did I presuppose an existence of mind and was there a relevance of its having an introspection ? Did I truly venture out for such introspection to take place with any definite causal existence in behind, if the former presupposition had been admittedly existed in my concept; or it was a mere fancy to impress the receptive field with marvel of a couple of beautiful words that betray pride of certain intellectual conditioning of human reflections beyond its own worth ? Further, did I choose it consciously or it was an impetuosity of mind that carried hidden desire to attain a glorified identity of a conscious mind beyond its real disposition ?
These were the questions, which I presented myself with even before I had conceptualized to float this blog. In a more explanatory description, it did not actually owe to its present form of public valuation, but to very necessity of its being contributory to its own existing self. The concept of publication of this blog came following on a much later course with a greater recognition of relevance of social auditing of individual expressions and its consequent effects on the social mirror. In that way, the concept of introspection had been in peaceful recluse, which realized of its relevance of social valuation in course of time. And, for these reasons I had to answer all those fundamental queries to satisfy the self long before it even found its hermitage to reside somewhere else than before a public view.
If I were to reiterate what had been the responses to those fundamental questions, it would always be natural for me to display the course it had treaded in doing so.
The presupposition of a mind is not a matter of serious analysis as both science and philosophy have accepted this presupposition as universally true with its forms and explanations varying with respective subjects of pursuits. It has also taken for granted that a mind truly exists in human body irrespective of whatever standard of intellectual ability it may hold within, subject to certain conditionings necessary for its revelation. There may run debates over efficacy of neurons, sense organs and even functional display of brain as an organ so much it relate to human thought process or its receptive faculties, either active or passive. However, there is not denial in its imperative presence in human expressions as well as experiences. In its being a subject of academic discourse, it comes out as a suiting victor faster through scientific explanation than in philosophical questioning. It appears in more glorified manner in such explanation than in any other fields of human intellectual activities. Nevertheless, if one has to assess its worth qualitatively than in form of just a quantitative presence, its placement needs to undergo validation through philosophical analysis. Empirical views of theory of knowledge propose to define mind as a reflective slate that not only reflects, but also absorbs, holds and stores images of sense experiences for initiation of concepts, present or future. These views deny existence of any pre-existing impressions upon human mind—a priori—and, as such, endorse of access to knowledge only through sense experiences ( posterior ) starting with a blank slate at initial stage of its being. According to such proposition, every impressions of sense experiences are scripted on mind to form its perception, either internal or external. The Rationalists’ hold a somewhat different view over its vacant existence at its birth, rather they hold that mind possesses some innate qualities pre-existing in itself for reasoned analysis of sense experiences and formulation of concepts. In other words, the concept is independent of sense experiences, but is enriched by their sufficiency. Kantian philosophy attempts to unify those two contrary propositions in prescribing that mind holds a form only as innate to any sensory experiences, but knowledge is only accessible to it by very dependence of sense experiences of the past or present. Yet, what remains indubitably exposed before us is the existence of mind, whatever poor, doomed, bright or creative it may so bear in its reflective activities, in human being. Thus, I being unquestionably a human being can nether be so unfortunate nor be so exceptionally be different from the rest of my fellow-beings for not having any. And, I may safely conclude to own a mind in myself.
For reasons or not, the second part of the supposition cannot justifiably be answered in scientific questioning. This postulation demands more logical investigation than in material estimation. Here again, the two broad views of philosophy run so fast and remote from one another that denies any possible treaty and it poses a frustrating impact on a general mind. According to Empiricism, the act of knowing comes from sense impressions and ideas, while ideas are copies of impressions reflected on mind, either in the past or the present. The concept of self-knowledge is denied in this view of philosophy except its acceptance as an interpretation of an internal perception. In such fashion, introspection is an internal perception according to such view, depended upon sense experiences in like manner of external perception. But, in such explanation, it necessarily demands equal valuation of internal as well as external perceptions so long they are dependent upon sense experiences and thereby admit to have a knower and a subject of knowledge to facilitate the fact occurring of who is experiencing and what is being experienced. Thus, when knower attempts to know the subject of knowledge, an introspection necessarily demands two distinct entities within one mind—one of knower and another of a subject of knowledge. In other words, it requires existence of two qualified identities embodies in a unitary self—a self that is introspecting and another that is introspected. Empiricism also presupposes an existence of unitary content and concept of mind in its theoretical postulations. Thereby if the knower is different from the subject of knowledge in case of introspection, it denies such presupposition of unitary concept of a mind on which the Empiricism fundamentally stands. This only leads to one conclusion that the self loses its identity, as a whole, while introspecting as it cannot either mutate into twosome or can explain to have introspection while not doing so, according to this view of philosophy; this leads to a further crisis of a human mind for sacrificing one part of the self—either the knowing part or the knowable part.
However, according to the view of Rationalism, human mind is capable of having such introspection for holding innate faculties inherently structured in form for analysing, conceptualising and subsequent reflections of such concepts dependent upon sense experiences so analysed within. It adequately satisfies the question and possibility of such introspection to happen in thought process.
This, although, offers suiting explanation to a primary supposition of having introspection valid and possible in human mind, the secondary supposition concerning its relevance in human being remains unanswered. This can only be reasonably answered through ontological explanations of philosophy, which presuppose the very existence of knowledge in this world of experience. And, if knowledge is there, and the knower is there, there must be a causality between such two existences and thus, there is relevance of the act of knowing. This metaphysical relevance justifies the urge for knowing in a more acceptable way than in any other explanations. In that way, I also satiated myself in accepting the relevance of introspection of mind.
The question did not seek much refuge to any academic analysis, either scientific or philosophical, for it is I, who is in the deciding position so far it relates to exercising of choice and free will. This did not demand theories of causal relationship to intervene much for justifying causal dependence of exercising such choice on sense experiences already imprinted upon the human mind. While it is an admitted fact that human mind, in its intellectual form and concept, does not bind itself in exercising its free wills, it cannot be denied that there lives a definite and cognitive reason behind such exercise and also in going for a particular choice amongst many, if such thought process abides in a rational manner. Thus, in my case too, even if I am to accept that it is my free will that demands my mind to go for introspection, it does not offer a satisfactory answer to a rational mind in support of going for that without a definite and cognitive reason behind such behaviour. And, I am bound to answer this question, else I will be left to be perceived only as a human being bereft of any rational application of mind.
If I were to analyse this pertinent question, I would only find myself with two reasons cognitively apparent in mind that adequately justifies my going for it. Yes, primarily, it is my age, which for so long has experienced varied impressions of this world and graduated on its wane towards eventual perishing, must assess its own worth in contributing against its expenses on existence. The valuation is just necessary for to suffice its existence being unquestionable. Nothing can exist if it is not valued to its worth—irrespective of the fact of its being losing or gaining or being passively neutral. This primary cause to expose it before a thorough examination is evident from its not having any contrary logic existing. The secondary reason, although it is also dependent upon the primary reason but has a distinctly perceivable face independent of the primary reason. This is for the death—the fact of ceasing to be—is so imperatively present in human mind that it leaves a permanent craving in itself to leave a legacy when it really ceases to be. Time being a very temporary companion in validity of a human mind ( in more so, of a human soul ) that it necessary commands human mind to go for justifying its impact on future prospects of mankind, and the urge of leaving a legacy naturally flows subterranean unless once in later age one discovers its tremendous potency in directing mind to go for introspection and social reactions to such introspection while validating its essence of being for a longer period when the mind ceases to act further. It is more of a duty than of a pleasure or pain to seek refuge to such yearning for leaving a legacy as human soul remains the most precious gift that a human body carries along its phase of experiencing in this beautiful world. Thus, the cause is pure and simple only to go for an active assessment of mind’s rational validity before the world that has so generously offered it to flourish, enrich, and contribute without demanding anything in return. It is, thus, a free will whether one opts for its social valuation or not; but, in its rational expression, mind can only go for that—introspection and reflecting such introspection on the social mirror. This is why I yearn to leave an imprint on such mirror for its valuation while I remain innocently apart from its material or spiritual contributions towards the mankind, whether beneficial, or detrimental, either to some or many, in whatever degree and fashion. In essentially doing so, with all its failing or success, a human mind can attain what it feels to be aware of one just deed that is to be done. And, I do it for this satisfying awareness of such deed.
For the last question, though it did have an agreeable answer to my own questioning, I leave this for the readers to imagine and perceive as if I do not do this then the very object of leaving an imprint upon the social mirror that my mind yearns to attain will be left with utter frustration.
Here is, thus, the concept of “Introspective Mind” arose and here it is for it has found a beautiful social face to view its ripples of reactions it create upon the social spectacle and here is, thus, a blog to find place before the wide and critical assessment of readers with enough reasons explained hereinbefore. I leave only with an unexplained part for the last question to let you be aware of an introspective mind, if I am to be sure of your interest to be aware of it at all.

A message

Days were so joyous and free
Of walks together for you and me;
Of moments spent in nature’s green
By leisurely laid a lake so serene.

We would play an endless game
That you would ask, “Dad, tell its name”;
I would tell some, but mostly missed
Softly holding your palms so sweet.

Some unknown tunes that birds would sing
The sky would hold spread a gleeful wing;
And, that would let our souls be true
In a dainty milieu of love to brew.

Hidden in time are the seeds of life,
And, its desire and strife,
For to sustain where the world is hard;
We learn to fail with entreaties unheard.

My boy, mind not what time says you to lose
Rue not for what life tells you to choose;
Let only the soul carry the truth divine
For the sojourn to leave an imprint benign.

Dreams....

Those dreams lie wantonly scattered like islands through my beaten course;
apart afar, I gaze on, while destiny denies a reunion anymore.
Once the delicacy of childhood ruled with its spontaneity and yearning to dream;
an innocent mind went on exploring newer world with promising cascades it carried along and novel dreams endlessly surfaced on its crest.
With life defraying its days, nights, time and voids here,
I float unmoving in a tranquil small bay, and, I float on to feel some delightful moments of momentum in a seemingly monotonous recurrence of tides and ebbs only.
Aboard a motionless boat, I take refuge to my eternal leisure;
and, somewhere deep within, it aches alike an enduring old pain,
it weeps for losing those fond dreams forever!
Maybe, time will toil more to trudge me a little further before life offers itself at the sacrificial altar of a vast expanse of ocean.
Maybe, once more, wishes would roam around to get a glimpse of that ancient path that I had traversed for years.
Perchance, our eyes would meet for a while or never.
I know not, if a sailor would lose way ever to moor his boat on one such island ! Perhaps, once in ceaseless future, he would !
Perhaps, he would enjoy some anxious moments of losing way;
maybe, I know not, if he would ever carry that native smell of its clammy soil before set sailing again.
Perhaps, I know not !

[ This is a transliterated copy---the original one was written in Bengali on New Year morning this year ]
Here it goes...........( can be better viewed in enhanced zoomed scale... )

Do I need a name ?

That was an early January noon. I had been badly stuck up in office until it was quite late as I could finally jump into my car. The train was schedule to leave within half an hour, but thickly jammed up road did not allow the car to budge a little farther. It was just a mile or so that I needed to traverse, but it seemed quite long in the time and speed dimension. Instantaneously I left the car and boarded in a Water Transport’s vessel.
I was floated in leisure of a ten minutes’ voyage. Gentle rays of sun had smoothened ripples on river Ganges into some sparkled stripes and I found myself seated alone on one of those passengers’ benches. It was not a time for daily commuters and I could only count three more heads sparsely distributed over at as much distant as they could be comfortably settled. Nevertheless, I could locate two more sitting on the floor of the standing area. I must have crossed them while coming to that passengers’ bench, but somehow did not notice. It was lunchtime in Kolkata; street-side stalls would have already been crowded and people, in comfort, might be savouring over favourite dishes, but on a stretched makeshift dining parlour upon that dancing boat I could see one little girl and her brother enjoy freedom in munching Muri (baked rice) from a single paper packet. Sunshine and wintry breeze together kept on playing with their uncombed hairs in a wanton manner. The girl had been wearing a gauchely tailored attire that seemed to have some decorations with feathers, but could retain only a few. Her younger brother did not although have any such special dress but had been adorned with ink-drawn moustache and several marks on his uncovered parts of hands and legs. They were half-leant over the floor. Drawn against the dazzling sunny noon, I could see a silhouette of my primitive past. I could interpret some reflections on those tiny faces that would expose its utter nonchalance in attempting to explain its own existence. I failed to fathom out what had been hidden under a maze of complex texture. I could only see those tender buds whose unfurled soft petals had yet to experience the pleasure of its blooming. Still I could visualise amusing moods of daily commuters while those two little children might be toiling to entertain them the best in displaying what a few tricks of Eagle-Cat game they might have learnt.
I stood up and got near towards them. The boat was sailing smoothly in the mid-river. I could clearly see the reality extracting its dividend out of sweet lives of two innocent kids.
I asked not what they had been there for and where did they hail from. I knew of it from within me. I could only ask, “What’s your name, baby?”
Those innocuous eyes sparkled in astonishment and she replied, after a neat pause for a while, “I don’t have a name. Do I need one?”
I was dumbfounded. I never knew before anyone living in this world sans a name to be called by. I said, “I don’t know whether you need it or not. But, I would call you ‘Durga’”
Before I could complete I could hear her sweet words rummaging my soul, “What’s about my brother? He also doesn’t have any!”
With all pains inside I could only smilingly add, “I would call him ‘Apu’”
She smiled, and her brother too grinned. I too smiled. But, neither I nor could they realize why we all did so.
In the meantime, the vessel had already reached the other side and started cajoling with the quay; maybe, they were engaged in a quick embrace before it would be the time soon of parting again. I had just ten more minutes left.
Smilingly we parted, silently too.
I boarded in the train. It started moving; slowly—then taking speed—then running fast and fast with landscapes flying away outside.
Only a few words kept on spiralling through the alleys of my mind, my soul, my conscience—“Do I need a name?” I could not decide, I could not think more and I could not answer myself if I really needed a name. I remained besotted with an unrequited question—“Do I really need one?”
I am yet to get an answer!!

Welcome, Winter !

This beautiful world has generously blessed me with quite a few thousands days to breathe here, live here, love here, be loved here, laugh here, cry here, sing here, think here, learn here, share here and to exist here. It continues to exist in me so long I exist in its pleasure. Our veiled countenances remain obscure in our own sphere of perceptibility. Amidst words silenced by delights in our souls we keep on enjoying the warmth in a passionate embrace that dares to hope for its perpetuity. Those illusory hopes remain effervescent in each distinct flash of its birth so long we remain belonged to each other. Ere long we thought it would be an unending fancy for us to expect of what more turns lay ahead. Destiny remains a forsaken entity in acuity of soulful wishes. It has been a phase only to belong and to behold of.
Time has been a solitary witness to all events of my being in it and its being in me. It has been a pretty old companion of mine since the moment when my first cry had translated itself unto a blissful smile on my mother’s gentle face. Days went by in unfolding moments of experience and kept on bundling itself into months, seasons and years of the past. In journeying through it has taught me to respect and value its presence in my life. Maybe I came quite late in learning so, but it has been a more pleasing ride ever since I was aware of being here only because it had been here with me. I know certainty of that my life will have no permanence in its eternal continuity, will not bear any significance in its progression, and shall never be a cause for it to pause for a while to look back in days of my rest. Still every piece in its treasures has been benignly presented before me to pick any and all at my wishes. It has clairvoyantly chosen each of those precious items buried under bits and pieces of alluring deceptions through countless discrete moments of its eternal journey. My life will never know if our camaraderie has ever had any tiny contribution to its valued possession. Perhaps, my legacy will only. It has been for me only to devour, not to taste its flavour. It is a vivid portrayal of two distinct characters displaying one’s unfettered kindness sans expectation and the other’s unbridled gluttony. Sadly I could only carry hope to perceive its essence so late. It is now time for penitence, to look back and to retrace steps on the trail that we have so far traversed together. Our future journey is to honour our moments of togetherness along the beaten track.
I empty the sack that once used to show off for its treasured collection tucked inside its bulging belly. Smile of freedom shines on while it rests deflated on my back. Gentle ripples of pleasure slowly tempt to convey its impetuous desire to burst forth, and soon it revels in its impecuniosities. I choose to walk back. Silently, time comes with me too. I stumble upon pebbles of those ignored memories lie scattered along the path that I had once marched so proudly on. I start picking up, one by one. I have no hurry in mind and no greed to boast of. I wipe away dusts gathered over and touch it, feel it and it comes out whispering those forgotten tales.
Waves of memories start breaking upon hardened ridges of my soul. I pause for a while and again walk on. The path takes turns, one after another. I tread on, deeper and deeper, looking for where I once started. Scarce are those pebbles as I move farther, and suddenly wind starts fondling the dusty surface in a mysterious cadence of an unknown melody. Swirling dusts rise up dancing with rhythmic beats of my heart—the pathway leisurely fades into an impervious obscurity. Facing me is an alien world sequestering under a yashmak of miasma. Glimpses of those little mermaids appear only to mingle into myriad surreal designs woven in an infinite texture. I turn back to run. I stride out to reach where I may rediscover the way to rush back to the present. Hidden under powdery dusts the track weeps and I hear its soft murmurs. I start walking. Only a few pebbles are still visible—stacked one after another at some points of turns as milestones. I wish to contend with whatever they have to offer. Every turn presents me just a single one, much distinct in form, and I pick up only those at every such turn. My sack gets full again and time, my dear companion, says “you are back to the present, mate!”
Treasures of my memories are now with me to strengthen me to carry on for the rest of the journey. I take out those pebbles, one by one, and tenderly hold between my trembling palms. In absolute recluse existence, gentle smile showers upon my face and my soul and I touch each of those pebbles—memories of those turning points in my life. There unfurls a beautiful sequence of resembling recurrences—a simple harmonic motion—where turns did bend my life. Yes, a strong semblance is distinctly exposed. And I observe that for winter it all exist and I look at how it tied colourful ribbons to my existence at every such turns my trail. My heart leaps in joy when I look at enormous presence those sweet memories in my thoughts. And it blooms in realising significance of winter in my life. The sweetest memories are those that bring memories of those beautiful winters too.
Winter has always been with us for a brief stay, but it has left the greatest impact on my life. My memories of those winters tell me of my childhood when we used to have long vacation after exams, and those were the days of freedom. It was time to smell its sweet fragrance—of days full of fun and play, of going to circus shows and spend hours in hearing music by Navy bands in Eden Gardens. It was a season to taste delicious oranges and of festivities with keen waiting for Santa, cakes and pastries, jingles of church bells, celebrations of the New Year and Republic Day. It was for winter to appear and vanish just like a shooting star and when gone it was for us to bear a wish for the rest of the year that there would be some early jingles of bells following. Those wishes remained wishes inside our cherished hearts and it never came before the time it should, but those innocent hopes of its coming early used to carry us along through ennui of the daily life. Within a pool of sweet memories of blissful moods that winter has so far presented my eyes meet some of the sweetest ones of my life of those soothing days of winter packed with bounties of love and peace, truly relevant to where my life had had meaningful bends.
I hear laughter of my bubbling heart while I journey through recollections of a Christmas day of some decades ago. It was an exciting celebration over the Xmas cake that my mom had baked for us. The year was of celebrating 25th anniversary of our independence. It was her debut attempt on that score and she was pretty excited too. I was too eager to assist and was more excited being a fan of my mom’s culinary skill. It baked so well and tasty that we had finished before one could see how it truly looked. And, I honestly confess that my dear mom had secretly given me a piece to taste it before the Xmas candles were lit. That was also the last cake my mother could bake for me; she died in May next year. My life swerved in a flash. On the same winter I met a little girl with her innocuous eyes. Instant was our friendship. It went on for some more winters. We could only meet in winter, and in that way, she had been a fairy who used to have her annual sojourn every winter as soon as the tune of “Jingle Bells” had filled air and my soul. The season used to come and gallop fast until when it would be time for a silent celebration of her birthday and I knew it would be then time to part, both with the fairy and the season! In one such winter I felt she was no more a fairy, she seemed a reality in my life and I felt that I loved her. With twists in the trail traversed by the traveller in me, I expressed my love to my childhood fairy in the next winter and in another winter our love mingled into oneness and we got united for life. Yet, another winter came and I became a proud father, and my beloved, a proud mother. The warmth of those sunny days took us through further more years. And a few years hence, I had still been awake late on a chilly Christmas night. I could see dreams playing with my darling’s lips and eyes; she was deep asleep and by the side of her bed I kept on watching her face while night spent it by. With the caressing first rays of the sun we were blessed with another gift of winter. Another little child was born. My life advanced for a few more years mostly fascinated by the presence of winter and all I had had of my sweetheart season.
Being charmed with its magic spell, my life has had its journey for so long and with turns after turns, it gets closer and closer to where it should finally rest. Still it awaits a few more bends not to expect of what winter has to offer but only to celebrate rituals of its ecstatic presence in my life. I lean over the path and rest my ears closely pressed on it to hear musical beats of its footsteps and my heart leaps again in delight and resonates in its melodious tune to welcome another winter. Soon it will be time to embrace my benefactor, my saviour, my beloved winter again.
Welcome, dear; welcome, winter !!

On social conflicts

Recently I’ve come across an extremely concise post by an Indian blogger that hit a straight exclamatory (poignant too) note on frustrating impact of linguistic groupism upon the dynamics of social progression. I couldn’t simply ignore it as a matter of fact for two major reasons. Firstly, it has a deeper relevance to a multifaceted academic issue that has attracted a broad spectrum of intellectuals of diverse schools of thought to deliberate on it and has, in due process and demand, also involved scholars from almost every branches of knowledge—social scientists to historians, economists to political scientists, psychologists to linguists, and so on. Secondly, the writer has recently moved to Canada for pursuing her studies and has to experience a different social climate that may have been influenced upon in a different way by varied cultural, lingual and religious encouragements or even by ripples of ethnic impulses; and, for this fact, she must have some clips on human interactions arising in different social climates and how subjective those are under impact of incongruent social, cultural, ethnic or lingual judgments.
What is relevant to the context is not to dispute that the conflict subsists in such social environment, but to consider whether it exists only in such circumstances or does it encompass apparent homogeneity of groups that have similar social or lingual or cultural or national belongingness or does it concern to a sense of loss of inheritance of an individual human mind that connects to the society it feels to belong either biologically or ideologically? In any case, a group is primarily a collection of individuals who are not clones to others and it’s a natural phenomenon that some common pursuits of such individuals bind them together into a group that also tends to solidify a vision to reflect collective responses of its members. Theoretically it sounds pretty well-founded. But, what we could perceive of its practical representations does not often seem to agree to its set theoretical inferences. Group is a simple form of collection of individuals having a defined goal. Society is much a bigger and complex form having too many groups within. Still, society has also some common practices and intentions, and such practices and intentions have deep roots in groups it holds. These are the forces that bind the society to express its commonality before an external environment, but its constituent groups do neither disown its distinct practices nor do subscribe to intentions of other groups spontaneously until such are collectively accepted to be better options by its individual members. And till such point, neither a society nor a group is fundamentally dependent upon the geographical boundary it has, but, indisputably, it can neither be unconscious to general geographic features it is environed with in company with many other groups or societies. Apart from this environment factor, there may be some other natural influences like structural and genetic features (defined either in racial, ethnic or biological form), language (verbal, signs and gestures) and religious belief, which may lay open a prospective field for societies or groups to intermingle into one consolidated social form. In a more advanced phase it gives birth to a complex society. Nation is a further advanced form deeply bounded by a physical boundary having a potential political and administrative control.
In the midst of all these diverse parameters and complexities, an individual may either agree to some or all intentions and practices of some groups within a society, or may also subscribe to some intentions and practices of some groups of some societies irrespective of its relevance to national form or may also disagree in like manner. But, agreement and disagreement are averse to each other. An individual cannot be thrown out of the society for such disagreement. Therefore, without going into a case specific analysis it can be safely said that a society is always vulnerable to disagreement of its set intentions and practices by any or some of its members and expressions of such disagreement may either impel the society to amend, rescind or rewrite its existing intentions and practices or may fail to do so; but, in any event, agreement and disagreement must reside within the society. This builds the situation where the society is classified into a group of people having two distinct identities—an individual and a citizen. They are unique in its content, but discrete in its application. In a complex situation, these two identities may act separately in distinct groups depending upon quality of responses of individual or citizen mindsets. Thus, not only a society is vulnerable to discontent, but an individual mind is also susceptible to such vulnerability while compromising itself with the self and the society. So, the conflict ranges from an individual mind to a group, a group to a society, a society to a nation and a nation to entire mankind. Still, it is an integral part of social progression and a distinguishable form of human expression too. In his essays on Individuality and Citizenship, Bertrand Russell eloquently analysed every aspects of this issue and expressed himself in his natural flair:—
“The elements of knowledge and emotion in the perfect individual as we have been portraying him are not essentially social. It is only through the will and through the exercise of power that the individual whom we have been imagining becomes an effective member of the community. And even so the only place which the will, as such, can give to a man is that of dictator. The will of the individual considered in isolation is the god-like will which says ‘let such things be’. The attitude of the citizen is a very different one. He is aware that his will is not the only one in the world, and he is concerned in one way or another, to bring harmony out of the conflicting wills that exist within his community. The individual as such is self-subsistent, while the citizen is essentially circumscribed his neighbours ……….. The fundamental characteristic of the citizen is that he cooperates, in intention if not in fact.”
“If a man’s life is to be satisfactory, whether from his own point of view or from that of the world at large, it requires two kinds of harmony; an internal harmony or intelligence, emotion, and will, and an external harmony with the wills of others. In both these respects, existing education is defective. Internal harmony is prevented by religious and moral teaching given in infancy and youth, which usually continues to govern with emotions but not the intelligence in later life, while the will is left vacillating, inclining to one side or the other according as emotion or intelligence has momentarily the upper hand. Such conflicts could be prevented if the young were taught doctrines which adult intelligence can accept……………..The matter of external harmony with the wills of others is more difficult, and not capable of a complete solution. Competition and cooperation are both natural human activities, and it is difficult to suppress competition completely without destroying individuality. But it is not individual and unorganised competition that does the harm in the modern world………The dangerous form of disharmony in the modern world is the organised form.”
“A sense of citizenship, of social co-operation, is therefore more necessary than it used to be; but it remains important that it should be secured without too great a diminution of individual judgement and individual initiative.”
These were all written some seventy five years back. Maybe, it is more relevant to the present world than it was to be when he had thought of hat we can perceive is that the conflict is not so frightening act but its organised abetment eventually yielding to a burgeoning impact upon the civil society and in micro level, upon an individual.
An individual is only recognised in a society, he has his identity in such social climate; he can express his creativity, displays his uniqueness and presents his philosophy only before the society that recognises him. He has to thrive in company of others—friends or foes—keeping with himself those essential ingredients of citizenships—competition and co-operation; but both need to flourish on values. It needs to care for external wills—individual faith, ideology, religion, language, and any acceptable human aspiration. When it gets diluted it seeks a refuge of social pollution of organised hatred, aggression and intolerance. Individual expression has to meet a suffocating end when society fails to imbibe values in its collective expression; cause of death is immaterial, place of death is insignificant, we are to repent only for the tragedy. Someway, we could more clearly observe talons coming out of paws of those organised disharmony in a different social climate because it seems to offer mostly unknown practices than we are used to experience, but within our most known environment, where we claim to know names of every flowers that bloom around, if we look deeply, lift that beautiful painted veil, which bears an artistic presentation of fraternity, tolerance and humanity, we could also find some more talons that already have had some prey. Insensitivity has no fascination over origin of its victims; it only loves to have countless victims. Just to conclude I love to refer to Russell again:—
“The world has become so intolerably tense, so charged with hatred, so mixed with misfortune and pain that men have lost the power of balanced judgement which is needed for emergence from the slough in which mankind is staggering. Our age is so painful that many of the best men have been seized with despair. But there is no rational ground for despair; that means of happiness for the human race exist, and it is only necessary that the human race should choose to use them.”