Saturday, December 18, 2004

Masochism becomes an elevation, as snobby puts it, of whatever you have. This makes sense, I think. Loving means what, doggedly keeping your eyes on the good, the warm, the happiness, because you’re willing to forgive, let go, overlook, ignore- because you see something in the other person that makes all the not-so-perfect things irrelevant for you. It doesn’t matter. Masochism? Could you call it that? Everyone who has ever loved anyone knows how miserable it is. What are you doing then? Putting yourself second for someone, anyone, depends on the situation- because you love them. You need them around (the ‘need is a self-defined want’ debate later). Masochism comes around when you actually don’t mind being miserable. Don’t mind….or don’t know what else to do, really. Some people have to be miserable, it gives them something to do, a state to be in. Something is better than nothing, misery is feeling, even if it is of a rather scroggy kind. One way or another you’re not empty. You’ve got something to do with yourself. Blog fodder. The moon is full tonight, and she is not with me. Kabootar ja ja ja. So much for my happy ending, blah blah blah.

But can you really, truly love without the element of masochism, masochism being then the state of not-happiness in a person who does not feel the need to consider this not-happiness a problem. It’s what you do, isn’t it- indulgence in someone else. You’ll give them your jacket knowing you’ll be cold without it. Let them eat the best part of your fried egg, give them half of your candy bar, let them hog the blanket. I guess loving anyone involves suppressing your self to some degree, and that’s masochism. Gule’s point was why do we, as affectees of a particular cultural influence, keep on being doormats for the people we love? Her nani will feed the entire family mangoes and not eat them herself, there being scads more mangoes and she being a mango aficionado. No, she’ll adamantly refuse to eat a mango and will instead chew on all the mango peel- and be perfectly happy doing it. She won’t eat the mango. She wants to chew on the peel like some forlorn, abandoned poor relative. How come, bhai? Yeh kya baat hui (‘what is that supposed to mean’)? Is that masochism? Sounds like it. We agree that that’s just weird, but I know that if Sana asks for my Kit-Kat I will quite promptly break it into two and hand her the bigger half. I love my sister, I am not her doormat in the least- God knows we bicker and fight enough to last us several lifetimes and then some- but I will indulge her because I love her. Am I being self-effacing whenever I do that? Am I exhibiting some deep-seated masochist indoctrination of thou-shalt-let-everyone-steamroll-thee-because-thou-art-a-woman when I roll my eyes and let a male friend eat half of my sandwich because he’s been eyeing it like a greedy, starving puppy? I let him eat it because I can go home and make myself another one and he has to go back to the dorm and eat dorm crap, and I think of that because I love him, not because his word is my command. I’m not being a doormat- or that’s what I think.

Masochism is an interesting phenomenon. The word is automatically SM (for less obvious reasons as well :P), you say it and studded neck collars, spiky leather boots, whips and handcuffs spring to mind. There are no relationships without masochism, funnily enough. The minute you place importance on anyone, they will take something of you with them whether they leave, stay or fade into the background like wallpaper in a room that gets too much sunlight. That’s all right- you take something from them too. Anonymous’ point holds, and I think mister Moiz will back me up on this one: purity of love comes when you can put yourself aside. Why you would be willing to risk complete destruction of your self by doing that is a question we answer ourselves.

Mina at 1:39 PM

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