The noise called Introversion

I have vivid memories of my childhood when I used to shy away and bury my face into my mother's Saree upon seeing some strangely known uncles and aunties. My parents would pester me for uttering a courteous Namaste to welcome the guests. But my uncompromising self never relented to their repeated pleas. I chose to be the person I was. At that tender age I could hardly decipher anything about my behaviour. But as I grew up, it dawned upon me that I was inflicted with a phenomenon called Introversion.

Speaking in terms of psychology Introversion is a central dimension of human personality where the person tends to restrict himself into his own existence. Simply put, Introversion manifests itself in quiet, reserved and shy behaviour. Also, there exists a very fine line between shy and introvert personalities. Whereas shyness arises from the fear of facing people, introversion springs from an inclination to guard one's own space with a certain degree of stringency. Anyways, I'm not here to discuss the technicalities of the matter. Fortunately or unfortunately I always made friends who were extroverts to a fair degree. Consequently, I grew up with a sense of inferiority, for my friends were always the life of the party though my presence hardly got noticed. While people admired me for the calm and suttle creature that I was, they loved spending time with my extrovert counterparts.

Eventually, I started feeling handicapped, socially handicapped. I had to hunt for people who shared the same introvert traits as I did. The harder I tried to embrace the extroversion that was so coveted and valued, the greater the sense of self negation engulfed me. I consistently kept trying to broker a truce between the person I was and the person the society would vouch for. The society has always been blinded by its biases. One one hand, it claims to worship those who never compromise with their individuality and on the contrary,  it breeds circumstances that force you into doing so. I encountered the bias everywhere. From my school to every social institution that I became a part of. When I decided to join a course in Broadcast Journalism I was ridiculed by a good number of people. They mocked at me saying that a person who distances himself from petty social gatherings could never be a part of a community that was all about being loud mouthed. I denied to surrender to their criticism but I forgot that the place I was going to is no different from the society that we live in. People who spoke quantities were always preferred over people who spoke quality. 

Researches prove that introverts find refuge in creative engagements. Composers, writers, painters are more likely to be introverts. Perhaps, my love for writing can also be credited to my introversion. Some of the finest contributors of the human history were introverts. Steve Wozniak of Apple is an outstanding example. Even Mahatma Gandhi, the flag-bearer of the Indian freedom struggle saw himself as a part of that introversion spectrum.

I am not against extroversion. It is an equally important shade of the variegated, puzzling human personality. After all, life is all about balancing between the odds. But the sort of rejection that introverts are subjected to in our society, is deeply disturbing. They are forced into a relentless battle of distancing themselves from their essence. The societal skeleton rewards extroverts and outrightly ignores introverts. If an introvert could be subjected to such a degree of aloofness, imagine the humiliation that a physically challenged person may have endured in each and every moment of his life. Introversion is not a sick state of mind. It does not imply by any means a sense of self obsession. It is the power that reunites you with your spirit, binds you with your strengths, confronts you with your weaknesses and rewards you with meaningful introspection. Caring for the external is important but segregating the internal can be disastrous.       

Of  Barfi  and  Khichdi...
Indians are the maestros of "Jugaad". It runs in their veins much like blood. I had my first confrontation with this omnipotent Indian phenomena when I was in tenth standard and after that there was no parting ways with it. What does "Jugaad" actually signify? It is an innovatively twisted way to get things done that is illegally legal and foolishly intelligent. While scams and corruption scandals are the most noteworthy children of "Jugaad", hardly any sphere of life, particularly Indian life, has remained untouched by this phenomena. You must be wondering how does the title of this post relate to what I've been saying in the past few lines? Perhaps the following paragraphs might lend you a perspective.

Barfi, Anurag Basu's smartest brainwave, India's official entry to Oscars and one of the finest movies that has touched the Indian silver screens is  reportedly being claimed to have morphed scenes from classic Hollywood flicks. I saw the movie last week with my mother. Surprisingly, I found her sleeping during the movie. I was irate and jolted her out of her nap so that she does not miss the sheer mastery with which Anurag and the actors had brought to life the entire plot of the movie. The unhampered playfulness of a mute Barfi, an Autistic Jhilmil wrapped in innocence, the unabashedness of an affluent girl Shruti, all tossed with those witty intelligent gags,left me awestruck. Though my mother had a second opinion. She complained that the movie had an unappealing and monotonous plot except for the gags. She was correct. The movie without those smart gags would bore you to death. And we least of all, did not expect those gags to be aped versions of some classic Hollywood flicks.

Though Barfi received an overwhelming response the controversies questioning its originality come as a shocker to the average Indian viewer. Indian cinema has always been known more for its volumes and less for its quality. We are the largest film producing nation but when it comes to substance movies we hardly have a handful of movies to our credit. Given all the dynamics, Barfi was being lauded as a welcome change in the stereotypical organisation of our entertainment industry. It was anticipated as a movie true to its genius where the characters would speak volumes through their work rather than their glam avatars. Though the actors did full justice to their roles, the fact of the scenes being morphed does no good to their efforts.

Directors like Anurag Basu are the torch bearers of the new face of the Indian Cinema. They have an inherent responsibility of breaking the norms that have impeded the quality evolution of the Indian cinema. Indians have somehow been programmed to believe that anything of exceptional quality and worth cannot be Indian. Thats what I thought when I saw the movie "Is this movie really a brainchild of an Indian?" Though I instantly criticized myself for being such a cynic, reports of Barfi scenes being morphed have proved my cynical self true. The reluctance to parent something original and the notion of western superiority has paralyzed the creative acumen of our budding artists.

I am completely of the opinion that replication is a medium that circulates creativity. Creativity cannot survive without being replicated but it is also true that replication should also result in multiplication i.e. creativity must get multiplied when replicated. It is a two way process. When you replicate someone's work you also inherit a responsibility of returning something significant in the process. It is high time that India has been on the receiving end. Its time we start giving back. Its time we see Bollywood movies being remade in Hollywood and not the vice versa. I would have been a much happier viewer if the amount of "Jugaad" and time that was invested in creating a Khichdi of the scenes in Barfi was utilized to fabricate a story that could have been worth copying by the Hollywood .