Of Lesser Evils

Been musing for a while now.  

What, in essence, is maturity?

What, exactly, do people mean by boy-tuning-man crap? 

Recently I heard some guy comment that my observations were predominantly immature, and therefore, hard to accept. I would be lying if I said that the comment didn't bother me, because I am part of a species that really thinks a lot about itself. The comment did bother me, because it set me thinking. It did not make me brood over the fact that people thought I was immature, because they all know I don't give two hoots, I don't take my life seriously, let alone others words. 

It set me thinking on what exactly people meant by maturity. You can always spot the so-called wise old men using this term a lot, judging others levels of maturity and crap. If a guy is socially acceptable, that is, he respects rules and sentiments, he follows etiquettes, he takes on responsibilities, then he is considered mature. Basically, anybody who has his life on control is termed mature. 

But nobody is flawless. The nice guy you see may actually be a sadist on the inside. Every human has his negatives, and people create facades and convince themselves to be someone they are truly not on the outside. 

So does maturity mean succumbing to social pressures, acting like you are compassionate and warm on the outside while you are burning within? Does maturity means killing the free spirit within you to please some vain old men and a couple of self-proclaimed mature humans? 

Wikipedia defines maturity thus:

"Maturity is a psychological term used to indicate that a person responds to the circumstances or environment in an appropriate manner. This response is generally learned rather than instinctual. Maturity also encompasses being aware of the correct time and place to behave and knowing when to act in serious or non-serious ways."

So broadly maturity is just another term created to make you self-conscious and to make you paranoid of what others think about you. Why do people need to care what others think about them, anyway? Why shouldn't we be proud of our imperfections, and why can this world not accept us for what we are? Do I have to be kind, courteous, polite, warm, thoughtful, sensitive, resourceful, and constantly on the alert of hurting others feelings when I express my views to be considered mature? Should I bend down, succumb to rules, live the way I have been taught to live? 

Humans are best left unchained. They turn destroyers, yes, but they fulfill their destinies. 

When a kid dances around in front of the mirror, mimicking some actors and wasting time, his father sneers at him to act his age and go back to studies, because he'll never be an actor himself. Well, the theory of probability has a history of screwing the best of us. Even though the whole of mankind may dissuade him, the kid has atleast a probability of one in a thousand that he'll be a Star by human standards one day. Instead of binding people down by rules, laws, norms and concepts like 'acting-our-age' and maturity, shouldn't society work towards the fulfillment of each human's innermost passion? We only live once, and noone on Earth has the right to tell us how to live. 

And then there was this close pal who noted I was too immature to be in a relationship. Maturity doesn't count there. Relationship is just a fancy word we give to the deeper concept of copulation or sex. Marriage, Dating, Flirting, these are but accesories invented by humans as a grand prequel to the basic concept of existence: reproduction. You reproduce for pleasure, for the survival of your species. And you marry for not dying a loner. If love and marriage are such pure concepts, if heart is the lone ruler, then why do looks matter? Why do girls still buy creams to be fair, to look better like their model counterparts? People can, and will give lame reasons like understanding, trust and all that. 

To understand a girl, you need to talk to her. To talk to an unknown girl, you need to be interested. To be interested in her, she needs to stand out in the crowd, she needs some striking aspect that attracts you to her. And after all this routine of understanding and 'love', you fulfill the basic ending. The three letter word. 

Maybe the way I put it may seem crude to all the sensitive humans, but its the truth. I don't give a damn even if I'm not. Cuz we all live the life we believe in.

Maturity is a rusty concept. I'm fcuked up cuz I was born fcuked up, a whole generation of men have been fcuked up before me, and my whole race is one fcuked up race. I wish the world would stop telling me how to live. 

Nietzcshe is, was, and will be God.

Free.

MC- R.I.P

Michael Crichton 1942-2008. Terrible loss to the literary world.

Back when I had absolutely nothing to do during my Class X hols, I came upon a book called Congo near the section of books that were mostly in demand. I was dying for something new after years of Agatha Christie, Hardy Boys and HP stuff.. and Congo came as a relevation to me. I still pat myself on the back for having done the only two worthwhile things in my life: having picked up Congo during my Class X hols and The LoTR during my Class XI hols. 

Congo literally kept me hooked to my seat... I usually try and finish a book in one sitting, but with Congo, there was NO choice. The pace at which the book moved, the rapid no-nonsense narration, the interesting tidbits of science thrown in between, all these kept me riveted till the end. I couldn't wait to get my hands on the rest of the MC books, and Jurassic Park(naturally!), Timeline, Eaters OF the Dead, The Andromeda Strain, Terminal Man, The Lost World and the rest followed. 

Sphere was one unexpected hell of a ride, so was Jurassic Park.

For a guy who grew up thinking that the whole Jurassic Park series(spoiled by Spielberg) was just a commercial mish-mash of special effects + monstrous dinosaurs + screaming ladies, the book came as a sucker punch from the dark. And I simply can never forget the time I spent reading State Of Fear, and my baseless argument in the class debate on Climate Change, fueled by the fact that thalaivar Crichton was on my side :). 

People may argue that Crichton was losing his touch, but hell, he's done more than enough. Writing science-fiction in such a manner that even the common man can understand its nuances, without compromising on its quality or its pulsating pace is not an easy task. 

He leaves behind a void that none can fill for now, a void which is all thats left of a place that was rightfully claimed by him.

 RIP, Mike. 

Ian Malcolm will forever remain in our heads, as the God of all Geeks. So will Richard Levine.