No perfect Man!

Pint-sized power barrel

Is it not funny that eulogies tend to paint a rosy picture of the recently departed? They make it sound as if he was such a good person that the world has lost another good man (or woman) that it could do better with. The audience would feel like kicking themselves for not taking the trouble to know him better when he was around.

Whenever somebody passes away, everyone will be expressing their condolence, praising them to high heavens (pun unintended). 

A little help from the 'Hand of God'

I have always thought of this every now and then. It came around again with the recent passing of Diego Maradona, easily the best, if not the second-best footballer ever to be born. (The first being Pele). I was prodded to write this post, especially after a friend sent a Twitter post curated by a fellow Twitter user.

Like a wet blanket, whilst the whole world, football enthusiasts and otherwise, were sending condolences in their social media platforms, he warned netizens to mourn but not to canonise the footballer. He reminded people of him being a poor role model. Despite his brilliant unrooting from the clutches of poverty to shine as a soccer star, he could not escape the hydra of cocaine. Surrounding himself with sycophants, he expressed his support for horrible dictators and terrorist regimes. It became clear that he also had a brush with the law on tax evasion issues and loan defaults. Who can forget his cheats on the field, the legendary ‘Hand of God’ being one? 

With Castro

Nevertheless, there is no perfect Man. Technically, we cannot take Jesus, Mohammad or Rama as being prototypes of Man; Jesus being God himself, Mohammad is the Prophet, and Rama was an avatar of Vishnu himself.

Mortal men are bogged with the adversities and the uncertainties of life. When swayed with unpredictability, he may go astray. I think we should hail the successes of an individual rather than shoot him down with his failures. After all, only the unsinned can cast the first stone. Ugly moulds can be found in all closets.  

In the prophetic lyrics of Chumbawamba's one-hit-wonder song 'Tubthumping' (You never gonna get me down) which seems to make its round as a lockdown parody - He sings the songs that remind him of the good times, he sings the songs that remind him of the better times!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International. 

Seize the day, Carpe diem!

You think you have got it made. You think you are perfect. That is what everyone aims for. And we all yearn to be THE one. Many want to leave their legacy behind, something for their descendants to feel proud of. Mythology repeatedly told over time from ear to ear over the years, got spiced up and snowballed to portray infallible characters, invincible, just, powerful and elevated to demi-God and God statuses.

As usual, my mind got thinking...
That could explain the many 'great' men (mahaans) and avatars of God who had graced and walked the land we stand on. Not to belittle the great deeds that they had done, there must be blemishes in their otherwise pristine time on Earth.

When Robin William passed on recently, the internet and social media were fluff with a flurry of messages praising him to high heaven. Many thanked him for the comedy and making the world a happier place. One even praised him in his role as a motivating teacher in 'Dead Poets Society'. If not for that film, he would not enjoy literature that much and pursued that line of career. Some highlighted the pathetic and helpless situation of being trapped in the world of the black dog. Despite duelling with manic depressive illness for a good part of his adult life, he still managed to live a full life.

The passing of an individual is always remembered by the good deeds done by them. The public generally likes to put a lid on their shortcomings, thankfully so. Maybe not for all- Hitler, Stalin, Atilla the Hun etcetera.

Wikipedia checkup did show a few unsavoury conducts by the actor exhibited. Besides his substance addiction which could be attributed to his illness, he had been the cause of his own marital disharmony. Imagine, how a pregnant wife would feel when your husband is sued by his extramarital tryst sues him for infecting her with herpes!

Despite all his shortcomings, he must have been good in other ways. He still has a cordial relationship with his daughter and a string of grieving fans. Rest in peace.
Life is a symphony with crescendos and fortissimos. The joy of music that emanates is precisely from these troughs and ploughs of notes.

Eulogy