ਕੋਈ ਮਰੇ ਤੇ ਕੋਈ ਜੀਵੇ, ਸੁਥਰਾ ਘੋਲ ਪਤਾਸੇ ਪੀਵੇ।
Some may die, some may live; Suthra happily dissolves his sugar candies in water and drinks away!
What a delightful Punjabi expression! It describes a person who remains perfectly comfortable while the world around him is busy falling apart.
The line belongs to the satirical tradition associated with Suthra, the pen name of Punjabi writer Charan Singh Shaheed. His humour exposed the absurdities of human nature with remarkable economy. Sometimes, a couplet can say more than a lecture.
The other morning, I found myself thinking about two varieties of human beings.
One worries about almost everything. The other seems worried about nothing.
One carries the burden of the family, friends and perhaps the entire world. The other carries on merrily, even when a mountain appears to have fallen on the household.
As the Urdu expression goes, Saare zamaane ka gham inko hai—they carry the sorrows of the entire world.
And then there is the happy-go-lucky fellow who, when informed of a family crisis, asks whether there is any tea left!
The permanent problem-solver
We all know the dependable person. He anticipates difficulties, offers advice, settles disputes and tries to keep everyone on the right track.
When something goes wrong, everybody calls him.
When something else goes wrong, they call him again.
If he succeeds, it was his duty. If he fails once, everyone wants to know how he could have let it happen.
After a while, competence becomes a curious kind of punishment.
The more capable you appear, the more responsibility people place on your shoulders. Your previous successes become their expectations for the future.
You are no longer merely a family member. You have become the family’s unofficial emergency services department!
Enter the great unbothered
Now consider the other fellow.
He does not anticipate problems because he rarely thinks about them. He does not volunteer to solve disputes because he prefers not to become involved. He may be quite indifferent even when those around him are struggling.
And yet, he seems to enjoy life.
Why?
One explanation is wonderfully simple: people expect less from him.
Nobody calls him to resolve a complicated dispute. Nobody waits for his advice. Nobody is particularly surprised when he fails to help.
The responsible person gets ten telephone calls. The carefree one gets a resigned sigh and the words, “Never mind. We’ll manage somehow.”
And so one carries the burden while the other carries on.
There is even a Punjabi saying for life’s curious generosity:
ਰੱਬ ਸ਼ਕਰਖ਼ੋਰ ਨੂੰ ਸ਼ੱਕਰ ਦੇ ਦੇਂਦਾ ਹੈ।
God provides sugar to the one who loves sugar.
Sometimes, the person who plans least seems to prosper most. Of course, luck, circumstances and unseen consequences play their part. But to the conscientious observer, the spectacle can be distinctly irritating!
Nero fiddled while Rome burned
The familiar expression “Nero fiddled while Rome burned” has survived for centuries as a symbol of indifference during a catastrophe.
The historical story is uncertain, and the fiddle itself is an anachronism. Nevertheless, the popular image captures a recognisable human tendency: some people remain absorbed in their own pleasures while everyone else is dealing with a crisis.
But let us make an important distinction.
A calm person who takes sensible action is a blessing in a crisis. A calm person who refuses to act and leaves everyone else to clean up the mess is something quite different.
Calmness is a virtue. Indifference is not.
A personal reflection: the burden of being dependable
I have often wondered whether those of us who are accustomed to responsibility sometimes make life unnecessarily difficult for ourselves.
We try to guide our families, anticipate difficulties and find solutions. We want our loved ones to be happy and secure. When a problem persists despite our efforts, we may feel that we have somehow fallen short.
But there is a fundamental difference between professional responsibility and family responsibility.
In professional life, responsibility often comes with authority. In family life, responsibility does not always come with control.
You can advise, but you cannot always persuade. You can support, but you cannot live another person’s life. You can offer the wisest solution and still find that it is not accepted.
And you cannot guarantee a happy outcome for every person you love.
Perhaps this is one of the hardest lessons for a conscientious person to learn.
We are responsible for the sincerity of our efforts, the wisdom of our advice and the fairness of our conduct. We are not omnipotent over the outcome.
Sometimes, we judge ourselves by results that were never entirely within our control.
The freedom of not being indispensable
There is another trap in being dependable: we can become so accustomed to solving other people’s problems that they stop trying to solve them themselves.
If we always make the telephone calls, others stop making them. If we always settle the disputes, others stop learning to negotiate. If we always rescue people from the consequences of their decisions, they may never learn to make better decisions.
We may believe we are helping, while quietly becoming indispensable.
And being indispensable can be exhausting.
Perhaps, therefore, we need to learn when to step back. Offer advice, but allow adults to make their own decisions. Help where help is needed, but do not assume that every problem within your field of vision has been assigned to you by the Almighty.
You are not the universal repair workshop!
There is a difference between being caring and being permanently responsible for everybody else’s happiness.
So, should we become Suthra?
Certainly not!
The answer is not to abandon responsibility or become indifferent to the suffering of others.
We can learn something from both characters. From the conscientious person, we learn foresight, compassion and discipline. From the carefree person, we may learn not to dramatise every difficulty, borrow tomorrow’s troubles or imagine that the world will collapse if we take an afternoon off.
The ideal is neither permanent anxiety nor permanent indifference.
It is responsible calmness.
Think carefully. Prepare sensibly. Act when action is needed. Help where appropriate. Accept what you cannot change.
And when the work is done, enjoy your cup of tea without conducting a post-mortem on the future of civilisation.
Perhaps the wisest person is neither the one who worries about everything nor the one who worries about nothing. It is the one who knows which things deserve his concern.
A final thought
ਕੋਈ ਮਰੇ ਤੇ ਕੋਈ ਜੀਵੇ, ਸੁਥਰਾ ਘੋਲ ਪਤਾਸੇ ਪੀਵੇ।
Suthra’s indifference makes us laugh, but it also leaves us with a question: are we enjoying peace because we have learned to let go, or because we have left our responsibilities to others?
There is a world of difference between the two.
So let us care deeply, but not suffer unnecessarily. Let us remain dependable without becoming slaves to expectations. Let us help generously without assuming that every problem must end in a solution of our making.
And occasionally, let us permit ourselves to dissolve a few metaphorical patase in a glass of water and enjoy the moment.
Not because we have stopped caring, but because we have accepted that caring for others and allowing ourselves some peace are not mutually exclusive.
After all, a life spent helping others should leave a little room for living one’s own life, too.
Gurcharan Aulakh
