Writer Sujatha had this amazing talent for the pithy yet sharp line.
In a scene from “Kandukonden Kandukonden” where a retired Army major
recounts his past, the feisty heroine challenges him – “Aren’t you still alive?” In
response, he orders her to come forward, bends down, stares into her eyes and
says, “You know what is worse than dying?" And adds, "It is being forgotten.” It is a
stinging line that has lost none of its sheen and power in the last 21 years since I
first heard it. They say that death and taxes are two
immutable certainties in life. True. But the inevitability of irrelevance merits
further inspection too.
Let me clarify something right
off the bat. Yes, people – in various
relationships, not just marriage - do drift apart owing to deep-rooted
incompatibility. Sometimes, there is a
volcanic eruption that happens when things come to a head, hurling people in
different directions. At other times,
fissures metamorphose gradually into schisms, eventually sinking the relationship. That is not what I am choosing to dwell on
here. Instead, it is how I perceive the
issue of relevance, or lack thereof.
As I thought about some of the
reasons why we seem to become irrelevant or less relevant over time, three
things came to mind. Distances. Interests.
Commitments. As I have reflected
on people who have given me the sense of diminished relevance and importance
over time, these are the reasons that I could hone in on. I don’t claim exhaustibility here. But I think these are sufficiently different
from one another, to give me a framework to dig deeper.
Despite anything that we can say
about the power of technology-enabled connectivity, there is a comfort to be
had in the rhythms and routines enabled by proximity.
My grandpa and his best friend were born, lived in, and died in the same
city. My grandpa’s friend had
traveled abroad for his higher studies but that was a miniscule fraction of
their lives. Mutual respect and genuine
affection were the most significant drivers of the longevity of their
kinship. But the lack of distance was an undeniable enabler too. The frequency of
their interactions meant that they effortlessly became a very indispensable
part of each other’s lives. I sometimes
bemoan the adverse impact that distances have on relationships. Practical matters such as differing time
zones and inability to travel without elaborate planning do rob us off the
charm and magic of the in-person interaction.
An evolution in interests and
tastes is another factor that make people drift apart without sometimes even
realizing it. Outside of our work lives,
we all have limited time. And in that
time, we chose to focus on things that are sometimes unique to us, meaningful
even. But when shared interests erode
over time, shared experiences dwindle.
I remember once in a group setting among people that I had known for
decades, there was a discussion on a new topic that people assumed that I was
not an expert on. They were right in their assumption – I was
no expert in that topic! Fair
enough. I listened silently, chiming in
with a tangential thought at times. What
was irksome was when I had started to speak about something that I had grown
passionate about, it was greeted with a toxic mix of mockery and
condescension. Again, the root cause for
the heartburn was not the lack of shared interest - it was lack of respect. After all, if one truly meant something to us, we would at least exhibit a perfunctory interest in what excites them. But growing differences in interests were detrimental to the relationship, nonetheless.
And finally, commitments. I would be remiss to not acknowledge the fact
that as we age, we have duties and commitments that we absolutely cannot
shirk. We grow to expect that people who
were once a more integral part of our lives might not get that sense anymore
owing to what we focus our time on. To
make time for people who are not part of our day-to-day lives and livelihoods is not the
easiest of tasks. Distances making hearts
grow fonder is an endearingly utopian thought.
Sadly, it sometimes is as far from everyday reality as mars is from the
earth. Sometimes, out of sight is indeed
out of mind. This is where we must
acknowledge our blessings. The people
that take the time to send a note to say that something seemingly insignificant in their day reminded them of us. Or people that know
of something we are working on, send a note to check in on us. These kind souls realize that thoughtful
action and meaningful gestures don’t always take much time. But the impact of those gestures lingers and
brighten our days.
As much as staying relevant and being given a
sense of belonging are wonderful feelings to experience, two things are equally
vital, if not more. First, the stability
gained by looking inward. And secondly, the need
to get into a giver mindset. Looking
within us is what lets us be comfortable in our shoes. It lets us adapt to changing tastes and trends at a pace that works for us, sans fear
of becoming irrelevant to others. We
must live our lives in a way that feels authentic to us. At the same time, getting into a ‘giver’
mindset will liberate us from the pressures and disappointments associated with
what others give or do to us. Instead, we can
choose to focus on what we can do to people that would benefit from our kindness- of word, thought and action. If you take
veteran filmmakers, for instance, some adapt well to changing trends and cater effectively to audience tastes over time. Others stick to their
methods, expecting the world to still respect them and treat their works with
the same enthusiasm. Yet another group of people turn into mentors for younger writers and filmmakers, hence paying it forward. No one approach is right or wrong. Whatever one’s attitude is, we must simply look to
derive happiness and comfort from it.
As Sujatha suggested with his
piercing line, being forgotten – or, as I interpret it, becoming irrelevant –
is indeed painful. But as actor-director
Parthiban once wrote, “Innoruthar irukkum varai yaarume anaadhai alla.” It loosely translates into, so long as there
is at least one other person for you, no one should feel orphaned. As I think about this line, I realize that it
is one thing to expect to be the recipient of such generosity. It is another, more fulfilling experience to
be that person for someone else. If I do
that, then I can get totally comfortable with the thought, "I am irrelevant
to some, yes. But others are important to me."