Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Of Sick people....

Some days back I was reading this book "Night" by Elie Wiesel. The book is a shocking, almost nightmarish narrative of the author's experience in Nazi Concentration Camp during the World War-II. The book will shake u up...to say the least...by its sheer narrative power which does not meander here and there...it states just the facts and what the author....then a young boy is feeling.(the book is just 110 odd pages)..To quote few lines from the book.. "Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke before the silent blue sky. Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever.Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence which deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dream into dust." And mind you, its not fiction..its fact... And then around that time, the Nithari case also came into light and then add some serial killer/molestation stories that come across in various channels...and then u realize what have we done...how can someone do something like this...is there or is there not something called conscience...how can a person after doing something of this kind sleep, how can he eat, how can he be at peace with oneself, how can he live... I guess these people are not normals, they are mentally sick; and maybe its to do with some real tragedy in their lives (filling them with that sense of vendetta), upbringing, their sense of depriviation in life, their education which has instilled their minds with wrong notions/views etc or if none of this true..then maybe its what is called manufacturing defect...but i am sure these people are not normal...For eg, assume for a moment that the child depicted in the controversial Pearl Jam video "Jeremy" actually didnt shoot himself...arent chances significant that he wouldnt be normal in the sense of the term and potentially could become one of these... I personally know a person (though, thankfully he is not this weird) and I, along with all other people who know him, are convinced that he is a sick man, a sick bastard...cause the sadistic things he does and the pleasure he gets out of that, no sane person would do/enjoy..and sometimes we think what could have been done to ameliorate his behaviour and one thing that comes to our mind is physciatric help... I personally think that physciatric help can go a long way to ease life (atleast to some extent) for a lot of such sick people and as a result to those around him though as a society we are majorly averse to it..And not only that, even for normal people, I think it can be benefecial, some help, some counselling provided its taken in the right spirit and not tantamount to a person becoming a lunatic/idiot..How many times have we felt just like pouring our hearts out, crying out, reaching out for help and looking for a catalyst who would help us shed our albatross. In earlier times, family provided that great emotional anchor and in today's context, given that most of us stay away from our family and 99% of all remaining relationships can best be described as need or convenience based, how much do these people benefit is anyone's imagination.... And this also explains why for so many of us, pleasure means a session of binge drinking, chain smoking, short term relationships, trance nights...where's the serenity man, wheres the peace!!!! Reminds me of that Black Eyed Peas song..."Where is the love?"...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey Khemka,
Read your blog for the first time today.. sahee likhta hai bhai.. very readable and entertaining. Hard to leave.
about Nithari, I guess there are more things to be looked into. The person is such a schizo that he was very normal 2-3 years back. He has no guilt, no remorse. More than pleasure, he seems to have done this as a routine thing. A sadist still has the feeling that he is doing something wrong.. so u can say there is still something human in a sadist.. but this man is no longer human.