The prognosis of Ideological Realism is that the breaking down of systems evident so graphically in India and particularly in the chosen microcosmos of this blog, is looming inevitable in those green fields on t’other side of the fence unless a hitherto entirely absent upsurge in global motivation, resourcefulness, initiative and unflinching steadfastness emerges very, very soon. Southern Europe certainly shows evidence already, and Egypt and The Middle East, as does the general slip-sliding of the United States and Australia swiftly joining in with a new dramatically incompetent, out of touch government callously demolishing the democratic freedoms, welfare system and human values so long cherished down under, where I come from.
KaliYuga is The Iron Age – wherein everything becomes harder and harder and harder. But don’t anticipate that the hardening process always reveals our inhumanity as in Israel’s persecution of the Palestinians, or Australia’s persecution of asylum seekers (this despite the prognosis of two hundred million ClimateChange refugees by the end of the century). We who occupy the minute percentage of our species fortunate to stand in The Land of Plenty are not obliged to sharpen the selfishness of our noses, we have a huge precedent for human dignity here.
In India – so far generally speaking, from my perspective it seems that the opposite can be true – we can do it too: the harder things become, the more humanity reveals it’s patience, it’s tremendous capacity to adjust and concede, to make do, to wait, improvise, tolerate, enhance, beautify, synthesise and transcend, empathise and show consideration. To smile. This is what grows from that psychological security fostered by the strength of family values. It’s nurtured in the evening squeals of children in the village outside my window (without a doubt freer than the so-called Developed country equivalents) – squeals from streets and roof-tops. Unbridled joy of life that will emerge later as survival capacity is embedded in some level of austerity.
This is not to turn a blind eye to the dark side of the coin, the mafioso leering disdainfully down from balconies, smiling faces of politicians on gigantic posters . . . posters that persuade the idiot masses to vote for the biggest thieves of all, smiling from the satisfaction of ripping everyone else off. And don’t forget the ubiquitous envy that eats out hearts – present in almost every care-worn wrinkle, or the sly trickery reaping rupees in inferior quality ingredients and shoddy work: of course it is all there with the money-laundering, all in our faces: witness the many elderly beggars of these days – parents and grandparents chucked out of the formerly oh so sound extended family system, to battle out their days abandoned. There is no perfection here or anywhere. KaliYuga continues until there isn’t a single honest man left; not a single one.