Monday 13 December 2021

Write... Edit... Publish... December 2021 : Narcissus

 



Hi, folks! I have been a stranger to my own blog for the past few weeks :)  Life offline has been super but super busy too -  niece got married last month, big fat Indian wedding - lipstick on my party masks and all that, anyway that was pencilled in long back in the planner.  But also there was a sudden breakthrough in the matter of the parental property, did that consume a whole heap of time or what? Upshot - stranger to blogging! - life can spring pleasant surprises and rev up even during a miserable pandemic with never ending variants. 


Anyway, here I am for the last 2021 gathering of the WEP clan. With another retelling - this last a Greek classic. 


Let me also take this chance to wish you  peace and joy and a merry Christmas if you're celebrating. To your good health and the world's for the remainder of 2021 and to better times all around in 2022. Check out the Challenges 2022 page for even more luscious prompts in the New Year. Keep fit and keep writing. See you there!


Reflections


I and the public know,

What all schoolchildren learn,

To those whom evil is done,

Do evil in return. 

~ W.H. Auden


Once upon a time and place far away – but close enough still to rattle, so don't get too comfortable  – once upon such a time and place, an unclaimed child grew up in the blind lanes of human indifference. Like a weed he took root in the cracks in the paving stones of ruthlessness and grew on a staple diet of mockery and offhand cruelty – daily kicks and cuffs and brushoffs. He was soon adopted by a petty vendor on the lookout for free labour in exchange for the meagrest of keep.

 

As he got to his teens, the vendor, the closest thing he had known to a parent, died. But he had learnt by then to be agile, hardboiled, forbiddingly spartan with a suppressed but ferocious grudge against society. A right wing organisation’s talent scout saw his potential and scooped him up. In their camps, he was honed fine and keen, ending up dagger sharp, primed with a gunpowder hate and an over-developed instinct for self-preservation.

 

Painstakingly, patiently, year by year, rung by slippery rung he pulled himself up through the hierarchy to reach the top – block, subdistrict, district, division and then in a sudden explosive outcome, the state itself.  As his third decade closed, he won the assembly, the youngest ever to do so - wresting control  from the long serving incumbent in a landslide. His early experiences – the deprivation of his childhood, his rigorous internship in the at the grassroots volunteer camps, came in handy. He was the underdog, seemingly connecting with everyman. The story of his success had no detours through formal education or established rags-to-riches motifs. His thick, rural, unschooled accent completely charmed common people. His anti-establishment stance, his sneering dismissal of the old guard, his scaremongering outsider-versus-insider tactics tapped into the deepest insecurities of people. His bursting upon the scene like a messiah felt like a divine promise. The population was mesmerised, giddy with the elixir. From there it was but a small step to dream of the top job.

 

***

 

“Get me The Daily Dipstick,” he asked the new assistant. He always insisted on getting in one raw recruit, preferably underprivileged and undereducated. Went down real smooth with the masses, though it tested his patience considerably.

“Daily Dipstitch?” the youth faltered.

“No, no, Dipstick! Don’t you young lot read newspapers?”

“Yes, but...our newspaper is the The Light at the End of the Tunnel?”

“Listen, my child, LET is our mouthpiece, it will never write anything to offend. If you want to know the truth, read the Dipstick. It’s tiny and unknown, but it matters.”

“But, Sir…the polls have been showing you numbers…erm…excuse me, Sir…dropping,” he lowered his voice involuntarily to a whisper.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he gestured impatiently, “but that’s not really important.  Are my numbers not above the others still? That’s what you should focus on – your opponents.”

He hooked a finger, the assistant bent closer obediently. “That’s the bottom line. If I’m dropping, then none of them are doing any better. That’s enough. Where the opposition is will make or break you. Now stop fretting about the numbers. Get me the Dipstick and that speech for the rally. What’s the slogan?”

If not he, then who? Sir.”

“Right. If not me then who, indeed?”

The leader looked into the assistant’s eyes and saw in the young brown irises two tiny reflections of his own face. Both instructor and protégé smiled.

 

***

 

The rally had drawn a massive crowd and he played upon it as a maestro plays and holds a note of the violin.

“For one thousand years, invaders and usurpers have ruled us, taken away our lands, taken our lives, crushed the dreams and aspirations of our children. Will you let that continue?”

“No!” The crowd screamed.

“Only one party, one strategy, one person can lead us out of this perpetual injustice into the saffron light of a new dawn. Someone rooted in this soil, not a Johnny-come-lately invader. Someone who has your interest at heart, holds your priorities paramount. Only one person. If not he, then who?”

“If not he, then who?” the people thundered.

“Do not put your trust in silver tongued elites who rob you of your future. The ones who wear silk undergarments over their rough homespun, get foreign degrees, fritter away your money on foreign mistresses, treat  you like a second class citizen in your own home. They line their own silken pockets while you starve and go barefoot. They appease minorities while you are swamped. Don’t put your trust in their empty promises. Don’t make the same mistake over and over again. Trust the one who has struggled and knows your struggles intimately. If not he then who?”

“Yes, if not he then who?!”

 

And the lights blazed down on the parade grounds, the huge LED screens amplified his face and voice and spilled into the cities beyond. And each person who heard his speech on the loudspeakers or later on the TV,  had a niggling little seed planted in his heart – was it true? Did the old guard really wear silk underwear? Did their corruption have no bounds? Will we really become a minority in our own land if we carry on this way?

 

So from rally to rally, from screen to screen, from one sea of people to another, the reflections rippled out in ever-widening circles snaring citizens in their loops, in a perpetual cycle of falsehoods and propaganda. And Narcissus fell deeper and deeper in love with his own images and the sound of the crystal clear reproduction of his own voice on the sound systems. Fell in love with a parallel world of a phantasm of his own creation. And the nation too, hungry for hope, desperate for change, fell headlong in love with it. Till they lost all power to reason and became a thin echo of their former self - from a robust, vibrant democracy reduced to a mere cult, whispering, “If not he, then who?”


WC - 1015

FCA


Tagline : Narcissi will grow in the most unexpected of places.



Read the other entries here :


33 comments:

  1. Aaaargh.
    Too close to the bone. Far, far too close to the bone. And brilliantly executed.

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    1. Thank you. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental of course :)

      Saddening though that it's a story that resonates across borders.

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  2. Nilanjana - what a delightful read, you're a maestro. Just look at that sentence - "But he had learnt by then to be agile, hardboiled, forbiddingly spartan with a suppressed but ferocious grudge against society".

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  3. Another well woven tale. Kudos.
    And also - happy holiday season to you. I hope your 2022 ahead is far more peaceful and I look forward to reading your blog posts. Always a highlight in a day. Take care.

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    1. Thank you, Joanne. I hope I will get to a more even keel next year as far as blogging/writing goes. But then, that's what I thought about 2021 in 2020, and we know how that turned out!
      The most wonderful, peaceful and happy holidays to you and yours.

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  4. The quote from Auden set this up perfectly! Your descriptions continue to amaze me with their power. Beautifully done!

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    1. I like that poem a lot - can't understand for the life of me why Auden turned against it and called it trash! Glad you enjoyed the flash. Thanks.

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  5. Hari OM
    Oh yes, M..errrr Narcissus expertly exposed... (sadly, this could be read for the leader of a certain set of islands here in the north, too...) Excellent stuff.

    So glad you have had positive times away from the ehterworld, Nila. Here's to 2022 being your year to truly blossom in your new 'earth'. YAM xx

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    1. Thanks Yamini! Glad you enjoyed reading. Unfortunate that we have such a bumper crop of Narcissi in global politics right now.

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  6. I'm getting chills and a sense of Deja Vu. ☺ A brilliant portrayal of a megalomaniac, NIla! Yes, here's to a better 2022 for us all. Cheers!

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    1. Thanks, glad you liked the portrayal. Fingers crossed for a better 2022!

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  7. Wow! This reminds me of Trump except for his poverty. You captured the attitude of a narcissus well. They are everywhere, aren't they? Well done.
    Nancy

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    1. Yes, indeed, so they are. And it's not just politics, is it? Narcissism has exploded in every walk of life. Thanks for reading.

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  8. 'To those whom evil is done,/Do evil in return.' I'm in awe, Nila. This is so powerful. So true of the political class globally. Auden's poem and your rendition brought to mind terrorist attacks brought on by disenfranchised souls who are plucked from their miserable lives and groomed to take revenge of the world that has mistreated them. An axe to grind. And it sometimes grinds slowly, but deadly all the same.

    Very thought provoking way to end the year.

    Denise

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    1. Auden line's are stunning - in their simplicity, truth and elegance. The line he repudiated 'We must love one another or die,' always has rung true to me also. Really fabulous poem.

      We seem to be going through the real rough patch globally - it's not just politics, some kind of overarching crisis. Economic, spiritual, environmental, health, and political certainly. Hope we can turn the page on this soon.

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  9. What a scary and powerful story, Nila. Unfortunately, it fits too many situations in too many places on too many levels.

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    1. That's disturbing that the story fits so widely.

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  10. Hi Nila - brilliant and sadly so so true - I love the way the child pulls himself up by every which way he can and over time only believes himself ... unfortunately there are too many self-centred leaders. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, too many are so self-absorbed ... this should be written into history - so well told. Narcissus/Narcissii will be copied by others ... you do write so so well - thank you for this excellently crafted story - cheers Hilary

    PS - have a peaceful end to 2021 and an easier 2022 for us all - so glad you shared the happy news... thank you.

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    1. 'Too many are too self absorbed' - that sums it up in a nutshell. Thanks.
      Happy holidays to you. Have a peaceful and blissful time.

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  11. The story itself is well written and far too close to home! Your writing style and voice are gorgeous, with wonderful turns of phrase and vocabulary.

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    1. Thank you for the feedback. Glad you enjoyed the flash.

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  12. This is so frightening because of how realistic it is. So many leaders ascend to power by spouting hate and distrust. You did a wonderful job of showing how such a person can start from nothing and use ugly, bitter feelings to sway an entire population.

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    1. It's rather become the norm for leaders to spout hate and distrust, hasn't it? Stressful!

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  13. Hi Nila!

    I LOVED your build up! Taking such a mystical character and weaving a story of so many world leaders and their followers today, is terrifying, but so true...sadly. Auden's quote you left in your comment, 'We must love one another or die,' rings so true to me as well.

    Day to day life is so challenging for all of us kind folk. Why is this happening? Why are people so disenchanted and believe and follow these horrific, self-absorbed tyrants? I always believed that change is a good thing; I am not so sure now because of what is happening to our lovely planet.

    Stay safe and healthy, Nila through this upcoming year. We must ALL have our Witts about us. Perhaps, some change will help... Have a lovely Holiday season!

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    1. Hi Michael! 'Day to day life is so challenging for all of us kind folk.' Bingo! It feels like the value systems we grew up with have simply been trashed in the last few years - it's completely baffling, really...apart from being saddening. Unless we love one another we are headed for a catastrophic end!

      You have a merry Christmas and a great holiday season too. Spaces look absolutely spectacular, can well imagine the amount of work that must have taken!

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  14. If not he, then why not 'we'? Why are we so quick to give our power to a charismatic speaker? When speaking is all they have going for them, and then, some don't even have that do they? I don't get it, never will. But what a great job, Nila! Kudos for such talented writing!

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  15. Hi Nila!
    I love your piece. Such wonderful diction and a strong voice!
    A quote that I read: "Oratory is the masterful art. Poetry, painting, music, sculpture, architecture please, thrill, inspire - but oratory rules. The orator dominates those who hear him, convinces their reason, controls their judgment, compels their action. For the time being, he is master."
    That says it all!
    So, the object of oratory alone is not truth, but persuasion? And the masses buy into this oratory? Why do they not dig deeper? Look beyond the flowing words? The truth is that many people are looking for somebody to 'save' them... but at what cost? Scary.
    Thank you for this wonderful story!

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  16. Terrifyingly rings of the truth; writing history and the future? Whatever the path to that point, the narcissist’s rhetoric sounds all too familiar.

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  17. A touch of realism in this one. Other folks have mentioned tRump. The only reason that bozo didn't end up destitute is because his daddy always bailed him out. He's still free to continue his attempts to overthrow the U.S. government. How he has a cult of personality is amazing, considering that he has the personality of a rotting jack-o-lantern.
    I'll probably go to my grave cursing him for the damage he has done. But maybe I should be cursing the fools who voted for him.
    If I rant it means your work made me think. Which it did!

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  18. Ouch, that seemed to hit too close to home. Loved the way you wound the prompt with this 'fictional' piece.

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  19. Oh, the power of a writer to tell the truth through story. This is a story too often told in the history of humankind. We never learn the lessons of previous generations. Wishing you happiness (and some well deserved me-time) in the coming year.

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  20. Ahh, a very interesting story indeed. Sounds like a lot of politicians.

    I'm enjoying #WRiTECLUB2021 over at DL Hammons blog. The entries are fun to read and vote on with feedback.
    Plus, I'm currently reading Patricia Lynne's Being Human.
    And I'm scheduling debut author interviews at Operation Awesome.
    I hope you have some fun plans for the rest of 2021. 🎄🎆⛸🥁✉🥂⛄ May your days ahead be merry and filled with positive experiences.

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