Students' Association - CMC Vellore

Labels: Post College Day Play

Its been really long since i've wanted to post this, might not be very valid now but after the final year speeches and things about hypocrisy being said i think this article by chichra if you read it carefully will reflect on many things that are wrong about this place.

There’s something about watching a group of people commune with God that’s embarrassing...It’s like walking in on somebody changing without them realising it, when the embarrassment is all your own. There’s something worse about it when that group of people is advertising this commune, broadcasting their faith, boasting of their piety; a vastly amusing exercise of mine (my faith, my belief, my devotion....the list goes on...) is bigger than yours...But that day, as I got to my feet, slowly rubbing my cramped legs, I realised the worst is when everybody involved in the exercise are actors hamming it, and everyone is uncomfortably aware of the fact.
There is something so endearing about hypocrisy in one’s alleged superiors. Something which makes people equal in a way Marx would have approved of. Which is why, hypocrisy has been a bit of a hobby of mine, I collect statements like others press flowers or something, it gives me an exaggerated sense of self-importance, I sometimes top it off with writing vaguely condescending articles about them. Which is why when somebody gets up and asks why the Social Services bus is not a service given to us (part of our ‘ministering’ work), but a commodity(couldn’t Munniamma’s ever suffering thali pay for this too?), I snigger...In the same way that a child would if one suddenly pulls down an old man’s trousers. To expose another’s pretence is always fun, do it in a public forum and it becomes a blockbuster entertainer. The true hypocrite never backs down; with him is a store of absurdity that never runs out, never fails to entertain. While the ordinary mind does not understand what the KGB has to do with a general store, the subtleties of hypocrisy sniff out a delicate link. This link is then propounded as a fact, with the calm face of an infant denying allegations of finishing off the last piece of cake. But then hypocrisy so often uses stupidity to cover up after it; sometimes, I admit, it does get confusing...There are little delights, like subtle flavours, that you can find about this place. Like an entrance system whose strengths are loudly extolled, but then there’s always the little backdoor open for those who can find it (a little blackmail, expose a few flaws of the perfect system...or get a royal edict... and voila! The key is yours for the asking). Or even better, watch a doctor putting her compassion on show (with the breaking voice of an actress in a third rate soap opera) while detailing the miseries of a terminally ill patient (a voice over is a good touch, almost angelic...). A ‘K serial’ is almost subtle compared to the shows some people put up. I have become addicted to these delights, they make life in a bland town with an excess of Mals almost bearable. Currently, it is the season of martyrdom, and that’s always a treat...
There’s something so amusing about watching a group of people, who so obviously think they own the place (whatever it is, wherever it is...they OWN it) struggling to put on an appropriately modest face and ‘owning up’ to their faults (which are tiny faults, almost insignificant, by noticing them they show how truly modest they are...). It is even more fun when someone gets up and points out a fault they do not want to own up to. It gives me a malicious feeling of delight to watch the ‘modest’ face fall and the ‘unjustly victimized’ face promptly go up. Hypocrites everywhere (I speak from personal experience) always reply to accusations with an air of holy martyrdom that is extremely comical. Royalty does the same. Royalty reminds you that you are privileged to be in its presence, any complaints are invalidated by that one big favour. A spicy mix of hypocrisy, outraged (outmoded) martyrdom, and severe delusions of a non-existent grandeur (blood made blue with ink as the saying goes...) is a recipe for a comedy of unimagined proportions. The true connoisseur will know what I’m talking about...the clever hypocrite will bow to royalty while befriending the accusers...