Have you ever seen Godmen shouting at the top of their lungs on a screen? I feel like slapping them hard across their face with a chair. Religion no bar. I have a theory that the majority of God”men” are men and historically only men have felt the need to “find God” and “preach God’s word” because men are fukat. Yes, I used the Hindi slang for it. Over time, men have washed their hands off most duties, and because they don’t have to keep a home or cook or clean or raise children, it comes as no surprise that men have always been the ones who have found God and preached about God. Take these modern day Godmen, for example. Even spiritual gurus. (Yuck.) Have you ever made a video? Do you know how much work it is? Do you really think women with all their patriarchy-assigned duties and office-work and family responsibilities could put everything aside and make videos to preach about God? Do you really think women have that kind of time? Godmen sit in front of cameras and yell into screens because they don’t have to cook twice a day and clean vessels. That’s why I hate them and that’s why I want to slap their faces with a chair.
In the book I am currently reading, The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah*, there is a scene which really got my goat yesterday. Set in the time of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl Migration in America, the stage is set such that there has been a drought for close to 4 years. The land doesn’t yield anything, the air is dry, there is little to no food and water, and both animals and humans are dying. In all of this, the daughter of the protagonist doesn’t understand how her mother doesn’t give up hope. What is there to hold out to? To look forward to? The daughter is very angry, and rightly so. I know it is supposed to be endearing and courageous, but I find this very frustrating. I’m tired of the common folk regularly having to beat their broken hearts against the doorstep of “hope” that tomorrow things might get better, that next week, maybe, or next month, perhaps. The rain will come. The pain will ease. The yearning will end. I have just had it with common folk having to live like this. Specially when I compare it to the current scenario where we face the pandemic and we have gone on every month, for a whole year, thinking it would get better. But here we are watching many more people die and experiencing so much tiredness, so much anxiety turned into coldness, and yet, there is no end in sight. It’s defeating and annoying for people to have to keep holding out hope against misery and adversity. As a human race, we have figured it all out. No, one year on, you can’t convince me that this virus cannot be eradicated and controlled. No, you cannot convince me that we don’t have enough resources for everyone on this planet. Nopitty nope.
I don’t understand social media anymore. What is going on out there? I am gonna go a little easy on this because I know a lot of us are tired (mostly, not everyone, because I know that some people are having a great time during this pandemic). Social media is a rubbish place right now. Either everyone is hating on everyone else or posting the same type of content repeatedly or we are being just plain mediocre. (Yes, I know poetry should be for everyone, but seriously, some of you haven’t worked on your poems and it shows). I can’t even with social media. The hard part is that social media is my only “social interaction” with the outside world and yes, I use it so often. Don’t y’all? And you know what, WhatsApp statuses are the worst. Young men and women my age should be interested in the mysteries of life and music and sex, but they’re so busy spouting things about some God or prophet that it really makes me wonder, what happened to these guys? These people need help. Someone, please send them help.
Right now, I hate everything and everybody. We could have done so much better. But we didn’t.
*The most definitive book on the Dust Bowl Migration to the American West was written by John Steinbeck and it is called The Grapes of Wrath. You are welcome.