Descartes got it all wrong. To prove "human existence", his adage would have been more apt...had he said- "I get irritated, therefore I am!" After all, what makes us singularly human is this ability to express irritation. Animals can express every other emotion. Take your puppy- it can be happy, sad and definitely angry. We read about angry elephants going berserk all the time; dolphins and chimpanzees can actually think and reason. But think about it, have we ever heard of an "irritated" animal?
Irritation is the most sublime human emotion. It differentiates us from the rest of the pack and makes us what we are....genuinely human!
Anger, dejection, frustration and irritation are all related emotions- in descending order of impact. Irritation is beautiful and even funny because...in that little dot of emotion, it encapsulates a dash of anger, a speck of dejection, a dab of frustration...all rolled in one!
We like to live in "organized" homes- where there is a place for everything and everything in its place. But the most organized home can never get one point right- "a working pen when you need one".
The courier man is at the door. All that he needs is a signature so that you can take your envelope and slam the door on his face. He doesn't carry a pen- I wonder why, but that's a different problem. That's when you reach out for a pen in the coffee mug which doubles up as a pen-holder.
There's all kinds of stationery (and one unusable comb) sticking out from the coffee mug- ball pens, ink pens, pens with caps, pens without caps, pens standing face-down, markers, high lighters, sketch-pens and even a crayon. But trust me...trust me, you can't get even one to work now!
Any pen you pick up- either it has no ink, or no refill or if everything is intact, it still doesn't write! At best, you can etch the surface of the paper! You try everything possible- give the pen a brisk shake to get the flow going, blow into it, give it a little lick, dismantle it....nothing works! A few doodles on a scrap paper gets it going, but the moment you place the pen on the real turf, it invariably falters.
You move from pen to pen...and unbelievably, meet the same fate! That's when...irritation...wells up from the cockles of the heart....and expresses itself in manifold ways! You click your tongue in disapproval, mumble under your breath, furrow your brow, clench your teeth...and even fling the pen away in disgust. In exasperation, you plead- "Can't get one pen...ONE pen.. to work in this home!!!" It's irritation....at its best!
And mind you, the pens also have an impish sense of humor. They like to provoke you, to get you all worked up and irritated...the next time round too. Any discarded pen will invariably find a way...to tenaciously claw its way back to the same pen-holder!
We like to try something new from time to time to get out of the rut and find some meaning to our lives. Someone suggests meditation. Meditation comes in several flavors- maintain one thought, maintain no-thought, don't struggle with yourself.... maintain any thought! Regardless of the flavor of the season, there are some common prerequisites for meditation. You need to sit quiet, cross-legged, eyes closed, detach yourself from all worldly contacts...and travel inward.
One morning, in all earnestness, you take to meditation- just for 20 minutes! Soon...hells breaks loose- it's as if the whole of humanity has waited for you to meditate.... to impinge upon you with sadistic intent! It's a cruel world out there!
Before the three rounds of "om" can be completed in full, the door-bell chimes...loud and rude. There is little choice- you extricate yourself from your elaborate padmasana posture and attend to the door. It's the house-maid. You let her in.
Back to meditation- you close one nostril...and inhale...slow and deep. The air feels fresh- it warms up your insides...and the world seems suddenly transformed. You break into a little smile...and wonder why you didn't take this inward journey earlier in life.
Before you can exhale the air out of the other nostril, at that opportune moment, there's a knock on the door. There's one knock followed by another and another...in increasing decibel levels. No choice- the padmasana has to be given up and so must the nostril-exhalation. It's now the car-cleaner. You reach out for the keys from the drawer, hand it over and shut the door brusquely.
Back to padmasana and meditation. From the breathing drill, you move to the chant- 10 rounds of "om nama shivaya" in a nice, low baritone with all focus and concentration. It feels heavenly. You wonder whether it is your own voice or whether Mr Bachchan has suddenly found a place in your insides. By the fifth chant, there is a rap at the door...once more! This time, it is the cable-man. It's the beginning of the month and the bill needs to be paid. The call is attended, the door closed again.
Back to "om nama..." Before even shivaya can be intoned this time, the bell goes off ! Irritation...yes, irritation...bubbles up from the belly and explodes through every pore!! It's obvious, there is a conspiracy out there! Someone is evil and scheming..to keep you away from nirvana...which should have been rightfully yours!
"Who is it?" you holler from your meditation seat. Several answers are possible now- it could be the postman who wants to collect his Divali baksheesh or the boy who has hit the Cricket ball into your balcony or someone who wants to borrow yesterday's newspaper or at least some tomatoes!
By the time you get back to your meditation seat and close your eyes one more time, the house-maid has completed all the other chores. She shuffles her feet impatiently, clears her throat and hangs around you brandishing an upright broomstick. Any attempt to continue the meditation is now hopelessly futile. You bundle up the mat, fling it to a corner and walk off in a huff.
Irritation simmers, it rises, it boils over, but as it always does...it finally settles down to a calm...though an uneasy calm!
India has come a long way. Indian Railways has come a long way. The stations have changed- you don't need to buy the platform ticket from the station master any more. It's all automated. There's one slot-machine for the entire station. Insert the coin and boom....the platform ticket is ejected! As simple as that.
Not quite! It appears these machines work well only with "old coins". At least that's the explanation for these non-working machines. Any new coin you insert- the surface is too polished... and it comes right back to you...posthaste...in the tray.
You now have a clutch of coins and you keep experimenting...one after another. It's absolutely random- after several attempts, one fifty paise coin isn't returned by the machine...hey it's actually successful!!!! You exult, but the elation is momentary. You need to travel all the way to five rupees when all you've done till now...is get off the starting block.
So much hope is packed each time you insert a coin...and ere long.. the hope sinks....defeated...as you hear the hollow rattle in the tray. By now, a crowd has swelled around the machine. This is India. You cannot hog a machine indefinitely. You can't leave the machine either for half the denomination is already digested! The pressure is on you...with several onlookers and competitors.
Someone suggests rubbing the coin on the ground vigorously to roughen the surface up, another suggests saliva as a solution. You try every trick....but with every clank....irritation...irritation...spews out...like fresh, molten lava! You come this close....to punch the next person next in line...who has his head over your shoulders or at least break this machine to pieces! Don't worry... irritation is benign. You will do neither...all you will do is fret...and wring your hands in despair!
It's amazing how almost everything has the propensity to stoke irritation.
My top-ten irritation stimuli would read as follows:
Irritation is the most sublime human emotion. It differentiates us from the rest of the pack and makes us what we are....genuinely human!
Anger, dejection, frustration and irritation are all related emotions- in descending order of impact. Irritation is beautiful and even funny because...in that little dot of emotion, it encapsulates a dash of anger, a speck of dejection, a dab of frustration...all rolled in one!
The courier man is at the door. All that he needs is a signature so that you can take your envelope and slam the door on his face. He doesn't carry a pen- I wonder why, but that's a different problem. That's when you reach out for a pen in the coffee mug which doubles up as a pen-holder.
There's all kinds of stationery (and one unusable comb) sticking out from the coffee mug- ball pens, ink pens, pens with caps, pens without caps, pens standing face-down, markers, high lighters, sketch-pens and even a crayon. But trust me...trust me, you can't get even one to work now!
You move from pen to pen...and unbelievably, meet the same fate! That's when...irritation...wells up from the cockles of the heart....and expresses itself in manifold ways! You click your tongue in disapproval, mumble under your breath, furrow your brow, clench your teeth...and even fling the pen away in disgust. In exasperation, you plead- "Can't get one pen...ONE pen.. to work in this home!!!" It's irritation....at its best!
And mind you, the pens also have an impish sense of humor. They like to provoke you, to get you all worked up and irritated...the next time round too. Any discarded pen will invariably find a way...to tenaciously claw its way back to the same pen-holder!
One morning, in all earnestness, you take to meditation- just for 20 minutes! Soon...hells breaks loose- it's as if the whole of humanity has waited for you to meditate.... to impinge upon you with sadistic intent! It's a cruel world out there!
Before the three rounds of "om" can be completed in full, the door-bell chimes...loud and rude. There is little choice- you extricate yourself from your elaborate padmasana posture and attend to the door. It's the house-maid. You let her in.
Back to meditation- you close one nostril...and inhale...slow and deep. The air feels fresh- it warms up your insides...and the world seems suddenly transformed. You break into a little smile...and wonder why you didn't take this inward journey earlier in life.
Before you can exhale the air out of the other nostril, at that opportune moment, there's a knock on the door. There's one knock followed by another and another...in increasing decibel levels. No choice- the padmasana has to be given up and so must the nostril-exhalation. It's now the car-cleaner. You reach out for the keys from the drawer, hand it over and shut the door brusquely.
Back to padmasana and meditation. From the breathing drill, you move to the chant- 10 rounds of "om nama shivaya" in a nice, low baritone with all focus and concentration. It feels heavenly. You wonder whether it is your own voice or whether Mr Bachchan has suddenly found a place in your insides. By the fifth chant, there is a rap at the door...once more! This time, it is the cable-man. It's the beginning of the month and the bill needs to be paid. The call is attended, the door closed again.
Back to "om nama..." Before even shivaya can be intoned this time, the bell goes off ! Irritation...yes, irritation...bubbles up from the belly and explodes through every pore!! It's obvious, there is a conspiracy out there! Someone is evil and scheming..to keep you away from nirvana...which should have been rightfully yours!
"Who is it?" you holler from your meditation seat. Several answers are possible now- it could be the postman who wants to collect his Divali baksheesh or the boy who has hit the Cricket ball into your balcony or someone who wants to borrow yesterday's newspaper or at least some tomatoes!
Irritation simmers, it rises, it boils over, but as it always does...it finally settles down to a calm...though an uneasy calm!
Not quite! It appears these machines work well only with "old coins". At least that's the explanation for these non-working machines. Any new coin you insert- the surface is too polished... and it comes right back to you...posthaste...in the tray.
You now have a clutch of coins and you keep experimenting...one after another. It's absolutely random- after several attempts, one fifty paise coin isn't returned by the machine...hey it's actually successful!!!! You exult, but the elation is momentary. You need to travel all the way to five rupees when all you've done till now...is get off the starting block.
So much hope is packed each time you insert a coin...and ere long.. the hope sinks....defeated...as you hear the hollow rattle in the tray. By now, a crowd has swelled around the machine. This is India. You cannot hog a machine indefinitely. You can't leave the machine either for half the denomination is already digested! The pressure is on you...with several onlookers and competitors.
Someone suggests rubbing the coin on the ground vigorously to roughen the surface up, another suggests saliva as a solution. You try every trick....but with every clank....irritation...irritation...spews out...like fresh, molten lava! You come this close....to punch the next person next in line...who has his head over your shoulders or at least break this machine to pieces! Don't worry... irritation is benign. You will do neither...all you will do is fret...and wring your hands in despair!
- The copier machine (Xerox machine) complains of a paper jam after printing exactly 1 sheet of paper. If someone needs a nice kick in the rear, it's the copier. No one slacked work more.
- There is soap on your face, but before you can soap yourself fully, the soap has walked away...and eludes your frantic search till you are forced to open your eyes.....and now.....ouch!
- You've soaped yourself fully... but suddenly, there's no water flowing out of the tap anymore and the bucket is empty too.
- You look for "toor dal" in all the containers in the kitchen. You're told it's present. You move from container to container...back and forth several times...but you just can't find it! "It's there...top right corner", comes the voice from the other room.
- You try your hand to hang up clothes on the overhead clothesline. Like a foundering ship, it heaves this way and that, till it either snaps or the clothes fall off...or at least you have a neck-sprain for the rest of the day!
- There's just 3 minutes to the bus. When you get to the last button on the shirt, you figure out that the two sides are misaligned and everything has to redone...from scratch!
- You're working from home. You have this most demanding customer issue to solve. The internet connection is suddenly so slow that each letter you type... appears after aeons. In the process, you make more mistakes. You type, erase, type again...and find it even more jumbled! You get the context...
- A mobile phone connection where you can hear the other person, but he doesn't hear you. And this repeats, each time you disconnect and call again!
- The razor is loose and falls off the handle...the moment you place it on the cheek. Half the face is shaven. The other half has to be managed with the razor minus the handle!
- India is playing Australia in Australia. You wake up at 5 am, switch the TV on.... to watch the Indian Cricket team batting! The score card at the end of the first hour of play stokes irritation...big time! Sleep would have been so much better!!!
You can't hug a person who is angry. Anger is nasty and you keep a safe distance. Fair enough! An irritated person on the other hand, is comical and even amusing. You find him cute...in his despair! The next time....you see an irritated person..give him a tight hug!!!! He is your veritable cuddly teddy-bear!
