Anger management

Of late, I’ve started finding faults in people more often that not. I get irritated at things that I would have normally dismissed as silly or unworthy of my attention/thought. In short, I’m getting pained. It’s not so much about people paining me as me getting pained. I see the virian virtue of empathy slowly trickling away from my blood. But I ask, is it for my good or bad?? And how do I even get an answer to this?

I hate to get angry. It makes me lose control over my emotions, or rather, an expression of my emotions. Often I’ve wriggled out of the misery convincing myself, and trying to convince others that I’m not angry, but just irritated. But how thin is the line that separates irritation from anger?? True, I do not break glasses or throw things at people or shout at people at the top of my voice. In the few times that I’ve been really convinced of my anger, I’ve expressed it in my own ways. Often in funny ways, as witnesses claim.

It’s an art to hide a range of emotions behind a blank expression; I am but a dilettante. And anger robs one of the canvas to dabble in this art. Some argue that masking one’s expression is a dishonest pursuit, a travesty of emotions. That they have a right to know what others think and feel. But then don’t we need to look at both sides of the coin?? There is, perhaps, a third side??

I know I’m a hypocrite at heart. But, does owning it cleanse me of the sin of hypocrisy?? Also, does a false claim of hypocrisy make one a hypocrite?? I make no attempt to answer.

I greet people I loathe with an equally fervent smile as I would someone I consider close to me. It is so well-knitted into my demeanor, only a VERY few would actually notice the difference. But I admit the difference, however infinitely subtle.

Now, someone having a sudden surge of curiosity may ask, “Why all this badinage?” I have my reasons, vague and contrived as they may seem.

Let me elucidate, with a tactful use of bullets, of which I have become a fan of late.

• S borrowed my all-out the night before. He wanted it for 5 minutes, or so he claimed. Now, when someone borrows something u really need and assures u he will return it in 5 minutes, u expect him to return the something in 5 minutes. He returned it the next night, through an intermediary. My night, however, was spent in the envious company of mosquitoes, covering myself in a blanket in this dreadful Chennai heat in a desperate attempt to thwart off their ruthless attack. The greatest human civilizations were built on the sound foundations of empathy, a concern for fellow beings. When that is not forthcoming, u start wondering where our own civilization is headed to!!
• I had to submit a letter to prof. S. Which I did. He refused to take it on the irrefutable grounds that the sheet was folded, at three places, if I might add. Hence, I had to get it typed by the guy in the office. The guy was supposed to come in another 10 minutes, and I waited. As 10 became 20, I decided to take my chances and asked S if I could use the comp to type it out myself. “Can you type?” he asked. “Well, I can try.” Much to his surprise I typed it out at a fairly decent speed and finished in a few minutes. Took a print-out, deleted the .doc file. “Fine,” he accepted. I heaved a sigh or relief, a huge one at that. As I started walking out of the building, Ma’am S called me back. Prof. S, scrupulous that he is, had noticed a profound fault in my letter. The letter should have been dated the day before. Couldn’t I just strike out the date and write the correct one. I’ve even got a pen with black ink. Better type it out. Hmmm..