Skip to main content

A hypocritical good friend

Some of you might have realised what I am gonna talk about in this blog from the title of the blog itself. But, anyway, let me go on.

Have you ever been given something (a piece of writing, art, a short film, etc.) by your friend(s) asking you to give them your opinion about it? Okay.

And has this work of your friend(s) ever been bad? I mean absolutely, completely bad. Okay. What do you do if this piece of work created by your friend is bad? You tell them that it is good anyway.

Why? You do not want to hurt your friend's feelings and you just want to appreciate his/ her efforts, however poor they might be. You just want to be a good friend.

You are also being a hypocrite. Yes, your intentions are good. You just want to help your friend. But does that change anything? You are still a hypocrite.

This is one of the many complications that can and will arise from human relationships. I am not suggesting that one should reject all human companionship because of such complications. There are other things that are much more satisfying and enjoyable that you receive from people.

We can only hope that soon, a time comes when logic trumps emotion. Where are you, dear vulcans?( those who dont know who vulcans are, refer here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vulcan_(Star_Trek) ). Then, when a friend asks you to review something, you can give your honest answer.

Maybe your friend will realise that you are just trying to be truthful.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dastoor

As one might have observed from my recent posts, I have been listening to or reading a lot of poems from poets in Pakistan. I promise that my intention behind this is not to receive that treasured 'anti-national' tag. One poet that I have developed a special liking is Habib Jalib. A compatriot of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, who has received more global fame, Jalib was an avowed champion of the people. He was a staunch opponent of Ayub Khan and Zia-ul-Haq, both army generals who overthrew the elected Pakistani government. However, he also spoke out against state oppression. It is reflective of the sad state of affairs that India is in today that most of Jalib's poems seem to be very contextual. I have already posted one of his poem's, "Zulmat ko Zia" in a previous post. (http://amritkosaraju.blogspot.in/2016/02/zulmat-ko-zia.html) Another of Jalib's famous poems is called "Dastoor", which can be translated as constitution. Here it goes... Dastoor

Zulmat ko Zia

I have always had a fascination with the Urdu language. Having lived in Hyderabad my entire life, I have found this language to be very beautiful and having a natural poetic sound to it, the way Italian supposedly has. Due to this fascination, I have taken a liking to songs, ghazals and qawwalis that are sung in Urdu. Naturally, I have come across numerous Pakistani artists. One such artist is Habib Jalib, the "poet of the people". One of my favourite poems of Jalib is "Zulmat ko Zia". When Zia ul Haq seized power via a coup, Jalib wrote this poem. The word "Zia" in Urdu means light. Using this, Jalib writes, "How can I call this darkness as light?" Over the past month or so, due to obvious reasons, this poem has become even more dear to me. I shall post the lyrics and translation of the poem. Pakistani band "Laal" adapted the poem into the form of a song. I shall also post a link to the song. Lyrics "Haq baat

Kuch Ishq Kiya, Kuch Kaam Kiya

The following is a poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz. I don't really know why (maybe it's my sweet spot for Urdu), but I like it very much. Kuch Ishq Kiya, Kuch Kaam Kiya Woh log bahut khush kismat thay Jo ishq ko kaam samajhte thay Ya kaam se aashiqui karte thay Hum jeete’ji masroof rahe Kuchh ishq kiya, kuchh kaam kiya Kaam ishq ke aa’re aata raha Aur ishq se kaam ulajhta raha Phir aakhir tang aakar ham ne Dono'n ko adhoora chhor diya Translation: Fortunate were those people Who thought of love as their work Or were in love with their work I was busy my whole life I loved a little and worked a little Work came in the way of love And love interfered with work Finally, fed up I left both incomplete