The squawk of the ire-bird

Narasimha Rao must be feeling pretty angry. How come others got away and he got the rap? Meanwhile, the politics of justice is making our ...

Narasimha Rao must be feeling pretty angry. How come others got away and he got the rap? Meanwhile, the politics of justice is making our media angry. For us lesser lights, it’s the everyday battle that needs strategies. The Americans, blessed faddies, indulge in Primal Screams and punching bags; the Brits ritually enact it through murderous football, even Manchester United, which has more fans in India than anyone suspects — from priests to maitre d’s at Chinese restaurants to hotshot executives. What do we do? Besides pumping iron, listening to music, meditating and drinking carrot juice?

If we were upper caste cow belt goons we might say, "Five o’clock? Time to burn, rape and kill." If we were your average aggrieved man, we might hurry home to give the wife her Friday belting. If we’re stuck in the heat, dust, fumes and agonising delay of a traffic jam, we might erupt with road rage and beat the stuffing out of the next autorickshaw-wala or motorist who overtook from the left. If it’s something or someone irritating at work, then we glare, grind our teeth, chuck things into the wastepaper basket like we were Magic and Shaquille slam dunking away in the glory days of the Dream Team. Or we’re cold, cutting and sarcastic and what we’d like most in the world is to burst into tears and drum our heels on the floor. It’s really hard being a human being, most times.

It takes superhuman effort to wrench mental gears and grind back into cheer or at least equanimity. Advice from women’s magazines is usually more helpful in such situations than sanctified speech. If you pretend to forget, for a moment, that all mags are meant to be "rivers of gold" (as Rupert Murdoch described his Australian newspapers) to enrich the publisher with ads while fuelling consumer culture’, there’s some good stuff in there sometimes. My favourite tips are the ones that tell you to indulge yourself with tiny treats. Sounds like twee heaven, I know, but listen, it works! As A.E. Housman said, "Malt does more than Milton can, To justify God’s way to Man"? Okay, so a bit of physical self-pampering releases happy chemicals’.

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But how do we maintain a sense of being centred? How do we practise damage control and not hurt others because Ã²f40Ã³we are feeling furious? I think lots of us will agree that prayer is really a very good pill for the soul. It seems to help get us back to normal if we combine a quick spot of physical and mental therapy. Deep breathing, a bit of pacing, if the circumstances allow (to dilute the rush of spleen with oxygen) and a hasty mental mutter of a favourite prayer. These tricks seem to help in getting back perspective and if you’re lucky, the people around you notice your effort and meet you halfway with their kinder selves.

Mythology too can be a huge bridge to inner equilibrium. Every religious and cultural tradition has examples of how temper was controlled or help came from divine sources at times of need.

These days half my colleagues are on Navratra fasts. Various chalisas (forty-verse prayers) are being read with renewed fervour. There are thirteen chalisas to assorted deities (which I’m beginning to limp through, because the mostly Awadhi dialect doesn’t come easy to me). But one line in the Hanuman Chalisa really sticks in my mind: the refrain. Ã²f40Ã³Ko nahin jaanat hai jag mein kapi sankat mochana naam tiharo? Who does not know, Lord, that you are the Redresser? (Now how does one convey the deep resonance of "sankat mochan"?) The Perfect Devotee had plenty of provocation to behave badly, but because he had a high inner standard to live up to (personified as Ram), he conducted himself honourably. Remembering these heroic figures, who had such huge reasons for anger, is often prayer enough and neatly wrings the ire-bird’s neck before it can peck others (and us) to bits.