Skip to main content

Respecting the space of others

Recently, I was travelling in the AC coach of a train with my family, and had to suffer the whims of my co-passengers.

There was a large family of about six adults and six children crammed in a 3 AC coach and they made noise equivalent to 20 -30 people. The children were misbehaving and shrieking and the adults made no attempt to quieten them. At 12 in the night, they were merrily shouting, complaining and feasting, when I had to remind them of the time and of the fact that all of us were trying to get some sleep.

On our return journey too, we faced people talking loudly into their mobiles at odd hours and disturbing the peace of the journey.

This got me thinking. When will we Indians learn to respect the space of our fellow countrymen?

We routinely go ahead enjoying ourselves at the expense of others, often totally ignoring the inconvenience of people around us. It seems they don't exist at all so long as they don't interfere with our idea of fun. Personal space? What is that? Spaces are meant to be violated.

In European countries in particular, people are extremely sensitive about their own and their fellow persons' space. Nowhere will you find them digressing into other people's territory while travelling by public transport or using public conveniences. They show the utmost regard for the privacy of their fellow persons.

But our countrymen are singularly lacking in this sensitivity. Let me enjoy, to hell with the world is the idea. And if kids are involved then people get a license to behave even more badly.

It is time we Indians learn how to behave in public, and curb our right to violate others' spaces. Freedom involves respecting the freedom of others too.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Does Mother Mary Really Come? You bet!

Prolific writer-activist-thinker Arundhati Roy's memoir, an ode to her mother's formidable personality, is cleverly titled, Mother Mary Comes to Me. Below the title is a picture of young Roy nonchalantly smoking a bidi. Irreverence, thy name is Arundhati Roy! At 372 pages, it is a tome, a sweeping saga that recollects both her mother's remarkable life, as well as her own. Is it a Memoir? Yes and no. Though the book title refers to their mother-daughter relationship, the book - at several junctures treats each one of them as independent and exclusive from one another. In fact, for a good part, her mother finds no mention at all, and the reader is engrossed reading about Roy's exploits and struggles through Architecture College, early attempts to find her vocation and calling, her dabbling with cinema, acting, scriptwriting; her romantic liaisons with the luscious JC, Sanjay, Pradeep et al. A life as extraordinary and unapologetic as Arundhati's mesmerizes in itself. ...

The Sadness Within Us

A curious phenomenon has taken place over the years. Technology has advanced in leaps, modern medicine has become far more effective, we can control pain and disease far better, mental health is getting due attention, there are more avenues for creativity and entertainment.  Yet.... We are no longer able to be really happy. We are a chronically unhappy people. Forever dissatisfied, never content. Always thinking about the past or the future, never enjoying the moment. Think about it. When was the last time you were really, truly, wholly happy? Blissful, joyful? You slog hard at office, get that deserved raise/promotion, party hard to celebrate, and yet at the end of the day, a hollowness creeps in. An emptiness, a feeling of futility. You have a grand wedding - its the stuff Instagram dreams are made of. Your sweetheart looks like a million bucks with the latest designer lehenga, you yourself are spruced up, your family and friends are beaming, the event is going on swimmingly. Yet...

Emotional toil of festival times

Festivals are happy times, right? Time for merriment, revelry, celebration, enjoying yourself... Wrong! Studies show festivals call for a steady spike in stress levels. Cortisol shoots up, starting with preparation for festivals, and remains high throughout, in the quest to do everything perfectly, "at least during the festival". Guess who bears the brunt of this? Yes, its the one who takes emotional labour for everyone she cares for - the woman of the house. She wants everything to be perfect, so works her ass off tidying and cleaning things. Then she wants her family to be fed well, so spends hours toiling away making delicacies in the kitchen. Rangoli to be painted - there she is with the brush. Festoons to be hung up - she's balancing herself on a stool. Furniture rearranged, flowers put up, puja room decorated? Yes, only one person who signs up for all this. Then there's the stress of the whole family at home, stepping on each other's toes. She has to appease...