Heart of a Poet, Skin of an Elephant

On a recent episode of the Seen and the Unseen, in an interview with Paromita Vohra, the following came up in discussion:

“A lot of men can appear to be feminist with their daughters but not with their wives”. ¹

Such a hard-hitting line! While I could fathom the existence of such men, I feel even such men are a rare minority. Sadly, the men I saw in the society I grew up in would never appear to be feminists, neither to their daughters nor to their wives.

In my age group and most of the usual social circles (starting from college and then at work), conversations on sensitive and mature topics like emotions or deep dives into a person’s interior life and interests were (and still are) unthinkable! Topics seldom went beyond sports, politics or perhaps Bollywood. Once in a while, you would find someone interested in books or movies or anything niche. But with time, I have realised that was because of some invisible boundaries imposed by communities of circumstance. Now, with the internet, one can seek communities of choice, gain different perspectives, and hopefully have exposure to a much more diverse set of ideas.

Of late, I have been lurking in many women-focused subreddits like r/TwoXChromosomes, and these are (mostly) amazing! One of the first things I observed was how women would be mostly cheering for each other and supporting each other a lot more than in the men-focused subreddits (but of course, I am not saying this based on any data or evidence; it is something I felt going through the comments on posts from both types of subreddits). This exercise, I have realised, would help me see a very different perspective and help develop empathy as I engage with it.

Actively seeking a different perspective is almost always an enriching experience in the long run. Getting our bubbles burst and intentionally listening to a different, new perspective is difficult. It takes a lot of work to start listening, decoupling it from the urge to respond. Despite being aware of this, I think sometimes I still subconsciously default to that mode where I am listening to respond and not listening to understand.

Then there is this bit when Paromita says:

“It’s very interesting to see them [i.e. women] grapple with their questions; it’s interesting to see them confront their limitations and transcend those limitations. They are also very caring, very committed you know, they have to run houses, they have had children, they have done a lot of things and yet their relationship with their friends is very important, their relationship with their work is very important to them they desire to be themselves is very intense. I think this is somehow very difficult for Indian men to know how to cope with.”

And following up on this, she says

“I do see that many of my friends of my age who I think have remained peacefully in their marriages or coupled up situations long-term are ones I think who are women who are very deeply committed to being themselves, and this is very very difficult somehow for Indian men at least.”

Also:

“I think before you can build a successful relationship with anyone else, you first have to have a healthy relationship with yourself.”

But why is it so difficult to understand yourself better? My guess is that it takes a lot of effort to do so.

For a man, in a world designed by men for mostly men, it seems counterintuitive for a man to want to change. To want to overcome that resistance and take the right path and not the easy one requires great effort. Before that, it also requires awareness and empathy.

But in a world where men get together to drink and talk sports or mostly superficial things, can this level of awareness ever come in? Books, movies, and better exposure to the breath of life may help, but who has the time for that? There are bills to pay, responsibilities to address, and expectations to fulfil, all imposed upon by society. Reflecting on one’s own place in the world and questioning why we are doing what we are seems so alien to most people. Society and gender set up specific roles for men and women, and the easy way is to just get by being imprisoned by these roles².

Another great line from the episode is:

“I think a lot of what we call romance is really in the service of coupledom, and coupledom is a constricting concept that you have to be everything to each other.”

And on friendships and relationships:

“It’s not always so glorious and so equal and so sustaining as conversations about friendship nowadays make it sound. In friendship, there’s also a lot of bloodbath and a lot of anger, envy, distance, coldness, hurt, and acceptance; there’s a lot of ebb and flow. And you know your ability to go with it, and grow with it, and keep searching for the moment of place of connection; it is really so important, and it is so difficult. And I think that you can’t do it with everybody. That’s why friendship is not some automatic object; it’s not an emotional accessory that you will have it, and then that means your life is going to be full of such positivity. I think, like a lot of these ideas, we get them online, and a lot of the people who are online are young, so they have yet to have the lengthy experience of up and down connection and reconnection and disconnection and no reconnection - and all of those things. So I think, what does it mean to have relationships with others?”

So then, what does it mean to have relationships with others? Both friendships and relationships in general (even familial relationships perhaps), I feel, are tricky. There are probably no universal sensible defaults for these relationships. One may be tempted to think of them as skills, and maybe they are, too, because it takes a lot of intentionality and effort from all parties involved to keep the relationship alive. But unlike other worldly skills, there is no apparent iterative feedback loop.

Someone who is a content creator can put out their work, get feedback, and improve. Or else, there is that interdisciplinary nature of skills. Learning to sketch makes you a better observer of life around you. When you learn to sketch, you become more mindful of the objects or people you draw. You notice details while sketching something you would have otherwise missed as you pass by it every day. But can you get that level of intentionality in relationships?

Maybe, but I think that is a difficult task. It would help if you wanted the platonic ideal as much as the other person in the relationship. You want to discuss emotions, but your friend just wants to make silly jokes, gossip about common friends or lament about politics. If that relationship does not have the depth or shallowness you crave, you turn to a book or a movie or seek another friend. But as you grow old, it becomes difficult to find these new friends.

I’m in my early 30s, and I can feel this transition around me when people’s opinions start solidifying. As we grow older, I think we take positions of what we believe is right or wrong or fair or worth fighting for.

We seek people who can validate our choices. For some, our friends, neighbours, and the people we grew up and around validate these choices. For others, it could be social media. These choices impact our relationships (including friendships or familial relationships). “My father is a right-wing bigot; how do I deal with it?” or “My friend says casteist things, and I don’t like it; what do I do?”. At this point, you have a choice: you can pick the relationship over what you value or vice versa. There are no correct answers here. You just make a choice and move on.

Each person has a list with assigned priorities of what they consider important in life. These priorities are built using values: Are you religious? Are you conservative? What are your first principles? Do you value liberty, equality or tradition? ³

Post making these choices about what values you prioritise: Are you lucky to be surrounded by people who think like you, or are you in a bubble? I’m posing this question as if I have an answer for you at the end, but sadly I don’t. Nobody does, I guess, or perhaps everyone does have an answer, their answer.

My guess is over time, you start building a collection of your own first principles or values you think are essential. You engage with people who agree. Suppose you particularly like engaging with ideas and are empathetic enough to listen to understand and not just listen to respond. In that case, you may change your view with time. And while all this is happening, you calibrate how much or how little you want these things to affect your relationships and take a call.

I think we all wish to see the best relationships as positive-sum games. We feel it’s always a win-win for both parties involved. But to reach this stage, the relationship must transcend the zero-sum point.

Initially, all relationships are at a zero-sum point. We put time, effort and intentionality into the relationship. We expect the same from the other person. At this point, we may feel things are not 50-50 per se, but it’s okay. We wait. With time, we expect things to average out maybe.

But, if both players keep adding more than they take out, and this process goes on for long, you start prioritising that relationship over your individual preferences. The sum of the parts starts to matter more than the parts themselves, and you find that the relationship is now in the positive sum territory.⁴ This is perhaps what it means when people say things like we like someone despite their flaws.⁵

This talk of relationships reminds me of two brilliant scenes from the movie Up in the Air. The first one talks about marriages and the second one about relationships.

When I worked in consulting years ago, a Partner in the Practice I worked in mentioned this as his favourite movie. I did not see why he particularly liked the movie when I watched it then. It captures a consultant’s life, but I found nothing particularly interesting on the first watch. Later, when I saw these scenes, it strangely made sense why this was his favourite movie. I guess that age and perspective led to this. I was perhaps too young and inexperienced then to see this perspective.

To end on a rather cheerful and happy note: Relationships are hard⁶. There is no instruction manual. It’s just winging it for a long time, and then you die. Sometimes, if you are lucky, a coconut falls on your head, and there is a short “Aha!” moment before this inevitable point of death arrives.

Making films is about having absolute and foolish confidence; the challenge for all of us is to have the heart of a poet and the skin of an elephant.

– Mira Nair

Footnotes