The Times when almost everything was Pardoned

 

Old times had their own sweet sour charms. All it proves is that the world wasn’t too serious. Seriousness is the modern-day malady. Looking at the way things happened in the past, you just can’t afford to be judgmental. There might have been grossest wrongs. No justification for that of course. Nonetheless, the small takeaway was a casualness, a sort of relaxed attitude, which dispelled the clouds of seriousness. And mass hatred, the modern-day evil, institutionally instigated to reap benefits at a big scale, hardly found a place in such relaxed environments defined by the loose strands of casualness.

In the region where my parent state stands presently, there was this Nawab of Daulta near the present town of Beri. Well, the man was a religious enthusiast. He released even the murderers if they converted to Islam. So what do you say? Any lessons for the democratically crowned kings of the nationalist party? 

Then there was this communist chap, Prakash Singh Dujana. Even politics was simple during those bucolic days. He won’t think too much before proclaiming at the rally, “I need to convince only the Jat voters. The lower castes will come along by default like a street dogs comes with ticks on its ears.” Someone said, “You don’t have a single vote.” Our politician was one-eyed. Expertly and confidently, he pointed out someone in the audience similarly placed on the vision front, “There is my brother in half vision. He at least can’t ignore me through his single eye!” Then he realized another advantage and quipped, “Ten girls from my village have been married here. And they are very social and pleasing personalities. I have faith in them. They must be in a position to influence hundreds of men around!” Well, even with its sins, this politician appears less lethal than the modern-day avatars who rouse the rabble and fury of Knights on rampage. Is old always affable, almost to the extent of appearing gold, for every succeeding age?

There was then this old man. Travelling in his bullock cart at night, he would take long detours away from any type of light visible on the horizon. “This light attracts thugs, robbers and ruffians. This is not light. This is the path of sin,” he used to say. Well, he would have preferred to keep the whole world in darkness at nights. So cutely innocent! Isn’t it?

So those were the days, when the best to the worst were put in the same basket and weighed in the scale and valued at the same price. And nobody got unduly jittery. Those were the times of acceptance I suppose!

Not that I overlook the flaws lurking behind these crudely simplistic statements. There are hard, serrated edges of injustice as well. In hate and mockery it never was better or worse. It is the same world, just that older times appear more tolerant and forgiving than the present one in the simple fact that people then didn’t carry malice too deep in their hearts and quickly moved on with life. There were hardly any storms in tea cups over non-issues like present when minor things go out of control and shake our foundations. Well, in a forgiving society the risks are still less than a well-ordered, law-abiding, cynical, non-accepting and judgmental society. Old has always its lessons.