Stoicism. Expectations and the Real McCoy

Is stoicism the answer? Will you no longer be troubled if you look at not the moment, but your life? Will your life look inconsequential when you look at the world?

I have come to peace with myself. The contradictions, the extravagant self-indulgence, the snobbishness...and I know that realization is probably all that is needed. Correcting some of it may help - the self centredness for instance. Correcting the rest may change my whole nature. I like being me, at least most of the time ;-) So I won't.

I am no longer exasparated by Chennai. I am beginning to feel rather detached from my surroundings. Indeed, from my daily life. Listening to Erik Truffaz on my new stereo, I can blog again. I am not drowning in my depression. One of the shrewd decisions born out of self-realization - that music was so important to me that an investment in a good stereo will probably save me. And it has. I am happier. So much so that I even feel some indulgent attachment to my flat and yes - even to Chennai. Unthinkable a few months back. But driving around in a car, listening to music I love has made the city almost bearable. 

I wonder sometimes if our romantic notions of places never visited comes from the definition of the Other. Why does the thought of living in Paris raise in my mind a longing that is becoming an obsession? What do I expect to find there? I don't know. Parisian cafes - yeah, that is one of the attractions. But the real attraction is the thought of being someplace where people definitely appreciate the finer things in life. Where you can be a gourmet, an art connoisseur, an intellectual, a cinema buff - and maybe become partly Parisian. But will the real McCoy be a disappointment? Very possible. For all I know, the average Parisian might be exactly the same as the average Joe everywhere - a stupid addict of reality television and celebrity gossip who is almost illiterate if you look at what he has read and has not an original idea or opinion that would make a conversation with him interesting. That is the snob in me talking.

Take the English for example. The anglophiles of India are inevitably disappointed when they visit England and find that cricket is not widely followed. That the famous British accent is what only public school boys and clubby university students have. That poetry is virtually unkown outside of a select few. That the only recognizable things British that you'd expected to find and you are not disappointed about are the weather (which is a matter of a whole other post really!) and the dry self deprecating humor. 

I admit, I was disappointed. And very surprised that a lot of people complemented me on my English - which I thought was good enough to pass muster, and was only to be expected in someone who is a middle class Indian who went to at least some of the right schools. 

But I still loved London. Loved it enough to say that it is my favourite city so far.

ubergeek, the