Finding Conscience

Breezing Up (A Fair Wind), by Winslow Homer

I

I closed the tab. It was one of the most famous social media sites of the contemporary herd. We don’t really meet much except for the weekends. Probably that’s the reason I get the humdrum algorithm. The feed generally shows only some beige snaps, some ‘routine’ stuff, and sometimes Harry Potter clips. But this Sunday, some new things horned in. Somehow, some standup comedy chunks, some jewelry ads, and Gilmore Girls rushed along. After a few scroll-ups, a short video was glued to my screen. It was an interview. Somebody was highlighting strength over vulnerability. He said you can be either strong or vulnerable, not both. Then he expressed his ‘wish’. He said that after a few years he would want a strong mother not a ‘vulnerable’ one, for ‘his’ children. And he wished that his wife should not use any social media and should live a quieter life. By the way, the interviewer introduced the guy as an ‘influencer’.

II

My wallet touched the machine. As if it nodded with a beep sound and allowed me enter the station. I heard the train sound. I ran through the zigzag staircase in a little sophisticated way so that I could avoid typical ‘huffing and puffing’. When I got on the final step, I saw the train’s anaconda-like belly getting on the platform slowly. It was settling down very slowly. The typical putrid smell hit my nose. I softly rubbed my nose with my wrist. It still had my favourite eau de cologne.

I saw a huge crowd around the track. They were so hepped up that even some could’ve readily agreed to jump on the train’s roof or hang on the side barracks. I tried to figure out a less messy spot. I truly couldn’t gauge my calculations’ supremacy. I probably overestimated my assumptions. But did I have any other options? So, after two men and four women, I literally got the chance to put my ‘boot in’! Suddenly, I got a hard push from behind. After a clumsy slip and stumble, my left hand and knee banged on the middle iron rod of the compartment. I saw two other passengers, one schoolboy and a man on the floor. They were behind me. A few men and women came forward to help us. One woman left her seat for me. She flipped water on her handkerchief and started rubbing my hand. Some people were shouting at a guy who apparently pushed us. The moral of the story is that everyone helped us.

Do these two stories have any connectivity? Do they look similar?

It depends on the perspective, right? Deep down, these two incidents have similarities. All of these people have different sets of consciences, including me.

I watched that video many times to be 100 percent sure of my perception. But there is no ‘if’ or 'maybe'. When the influencer literally snaps off ‘vulnerability’ it is not refrained from certain parti pris. I have some questions, at what cost did he put 'strong' over ‘vulnerability’? Who is strong? Is it someone who has never experienced vulnerability? (Do they exist?) Or is it someone who never valued those low points? If yes, then what made them strong?

Then why would he want only a strong woman for ‘his’ children?

She must have layers of emotions. She must have had her experiences. Every experience has different reaches. Then why would she choose only her strength to become ‘the’ mother for ‘his’ children? Is her vulnerability unworthy?

His wishes were somewhere justifiable if ‘her’ choices were taken care of—if he had said that he would discuss his ideas about social media with his future wife or ‘they’ would choose a quieter lifestyle. Perhaps he has moral justifications in this context, but that one-minute video showed something very patriarchal. It may sound harsh, but I felt gallons of confused, misogynistic sweat were dropping off his thoughts. To be more specific, he has an ‘underdeveloped conscience’. He might have felt his thoughts were dreamy or cool enough. I know he was just saying, and there are differences between 'saying' and ‘doing’. But his conscience allowed him to say so. And here’s another thing: he claims to be an influencer. That means at least some thousands will get the video and at least one person could get inspired. That’s problematic. The video got high likes. The comment section was filled with different opinions but some had clapping emojis!

Now, if I go back to my metro experience, two sets of consciences were there. One was the man who pushed some other passengers to get the train. The other people who helped us. The first one kept his moral compass aside for a short-term benefit. Others came forward with an empathetic approach. The most simple definition of conscience was shining here.

If I talk about myself, then I find that guy 'misogynistic’ because I have never been encouraged to hide my vulnerabilities or to look myself in the box of somebody else’s patriarchal mindset. My conscience would yell at me if I tried to fit into someone else’s box. And from that metro experience, I can only learn from those other passengers’ angelic consciences.

We all develop our consciences mostly in childhood or adolescence. But we can learn everyday. In our daily lives, we see rigged patches in our surroundings; we sometimes repair and sometimes we ignore them, mostly if they have very little or nothing to do with our personal interests. And that’s approach is partially justifiable if that ignorance doesn’t hit others. But if it has multifaceted effects on somebody else, then, my friend, we need to buckle up. There’s a saying, “There is no pillow so soft as a clear conscience.” When our consciences are tidy enough, we don’t dig traps for others; we don’t pin down somebody’s worth; we don’t push anybody into a black hole.

It’s a great feeling when we know that we are not creating insensitive knots for others. That’s the small little step. We can develop the assurance that yes, today and every day, my conscience is my cynosure. We should consciously keep checking our moral compass. Consistency polishes this set every time. I call that effort Ina*.

The moral compass is not that rigid. If it deviates somewhere, conscious effort can bring it back to its place. The soft ‘assuring’ breeze of the inner voice is no doubt a blessing.

(*In Sanskrit, Ina (इन).—a. means determined or anything that is powerful.)