Freedom and
Contingency
Chennai
flooded; as I read TV channels running scrolls of this, I could not but recall
my friends back home. Satish and his family, with whom I had breakfast just a
couple of weeks ago was among those who cared a lot to keep his home `clean’.
Their’s was a second-floor flat (as mine there) and I was too sure that they
were safe. And their little daughter, with whom I spent the little while I was
there last on transit was even otherwise `bored’ staying indoors and not being
able to go to school. Life in Chennai was disrupted, due to heavy rains, for a
while even before I passed through the city and schools were declared closed
then. I just thought I might ask her how she felt with more rains and more
holidays. Alas! They were `not reachable’.
All their mobile phones (four of
them) had run out of power and with the power lines switched off (to prevent
electrocution), they were out of reach. The same story about Sankar, another of
my neighbor and Menon, my wonderful friend. I had held Thoma Friedman’s The
World if Flat (one of the celebrated books of the mid-1990s) with some contempt
even otherwise. But now I had an argument that would work with Satish, Sankar
and Menon; all of whom were among those who celebrated the ICT revolution (even
while none of them had read up Friedman) and try telling me that things have
changed. It’s freedom now at long last, they felt and proclaimed.
Well. I managed to speak with
Satish finally on Saturday. The rains had disrupted life, this time, since
Monday. And Satish declared that he got to realize what can happen to one’s
life even after all the freedom had come. His mother was in hospital in the
couple of days before the last round of rains had begun and he had just about
managed to reach home on Monday evening; only to spend the next few days,
indoors, with his wife and daughter, having to stay without news of his ailing
mother. Just as the Menons and Sankars,
the Satishs too had to eat frugally and go without milk and vegetables. Even
when they had all the money to buy these and drinking water that they were
buying for long.
Frugal meals and life without
vegetables and milk is indeed a way of life to many in Chennai. And their
system had got immune to contaminated water they had been having for long in
their lives because they could not afford buying so much water to drink! The rains, to this kind of people, who are
not our kind of people, meant loss of livelihood for days on end and to depend
on food-packets that came as relief. But then, they did not consider themselves
`free’ in the way the Satishs, the Sankars and the Menons thought. The ICT
revolution had made their lives different. They spent some of their money on
mobile recharges (available in such small denominations as Rs. 10 too) and
sometimes cut down on their already small budget for food. Those people had not
cared as much as my friend Satish did on keeping their house `clean’ and
pouring harpic into the flush tanks in their washrooms. `Freedom’ had evaded
them for long.
But then, the deluge had made
Satish feel that he too was not free. Freedom, as it had come to be defined in
our Constitutional sense included the right to know and this right as essential
to the right to express. In other words, my friends had thought that they now
were bestowed with the right to know and the right to get others know, thanks
to the mobile phones, the DTH transmission that brought them news of the quake
in Nepal and Sikkim (when they thought of me and managed to be informed that we
were `fine’ because mobile links were not disrupted then for too long) or about
The Taj under attack; or even about the fall of the WTC and the revenge on
Osama bin Laden subsequently. But now, their flat screen TV hooked on to the
Dish that `connected’ them to the rest of the world was just an object on the
wall. No picture on that.
They were `disconnected’ even from
their friends within the locality and there was no way Satish could know, for a
few days, about his ailing mother in the same city. `We now know what life is all about…. Everything can change in a
moment.’ Well. I was reminded of one of the influential philosophers of the
last century: Jean Paul Sartre, in his conversation with Simone de Beauvoir,
explains how his own idea of freedom as merely an abstract notion changed with
his increasing contact with the people. ``I came to understand’’ says Satre,
``that freedom met with obstacles, and it was then that contingency appeared to
me as being opposed to freedom. …’’ This indeed took Sartre to where he
established his own self as a trenchant critique of the status quo.
Well. The Satishs, Sankars and the
Menons will soon get back their `freedom’ and will eat vegetables and drink
milk also with honey. Meanwhile, the large number of those who produce goods
and wealth thereon will soon begin to earn their livelihood; the food-packets
and water sachets, after all will stop before long and they will slide from one
kind of unfreedom to another. And our TV channels will soon declare life as
normal and celebrate the resilience. It means milk, honey and vegetables for
some and a frugal diet for the many. Freedom and Contingency as Sartre would
help us explain!
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