Today’s World Workaholics Day. Now, this is a concept that our countrymen(and yes, when I say countrymen, I obviously exclude politicians, bureaucrats and most govt. workers. The first two aren’t a class you would want to call your ‘brothers and sisters’ and the latter, as a class, suffer from an occupational hazard of malingering and form such a large group that they form a nation of their own) do not really feel comfortable with, as a major chunk of them fall comfortably within the class of workaholics and wouldn’t appreciate being classed with the other barely respectable addicts like alcoholics or narcoholics(no, I just coined that).. Now why the other addicts wouldn’t be respectable is an entirely different issue.
Yes, we do have a national disorder, Workaholism. Whence does this mass-epidemic gain its potency? The answer lies, like Jeeves would suggest, in the psychology of the individual, which in this case is common to all the members of this family of Indians. The average Indian child shares his birthday along with 50,000 other brothers and sisters and can hardly be blamed for taking quite a grim view of the situation as is evinced by his disinclination to get past his infancy. Once a child is reared to reach an age where he can devote his energies to something other than immediate survival, he is immediately bombarded with the problem of a different level of survival, one of excellence. He has so many competitors with a seemingly boundless capacity to learn(by rote), a thirst for excellence in the chosen field(where ever the gravy train is headed), a clear insight into their priorities(where’s my money?) and a well thought-out plan of how to go about achieving it(centums and1st ranks through school, Engineering, MBA, MNC…) that he cant be blamed for thinking that the Roman Gladiators of yore had somewhat more flexible choices in life(oh, he gets to hear about them while preparing for his KG admissions interview).
Oh, but things have changed, some say, with the open-minded employers looking for well-rounded personalities with interests that aren’t strictly within the bounds of the academia.. But that only adds to the pressure, for those ideal competitors of our pitiable protagonist manage to find time in the course of the allotted 24 hours every day for polo and gymnastics too(no way are cricket and kabbadi a la mode). This infectious energy(yes, that’s not always a positive phrase) is the seed of the epidemic of workaholism that now claims him too, as surely as ‘Melancholy mark'd him for her own’ that mate of Gray’s. First he goes in search of work, then he brings it home, then he loses himself and his priorities in it, whence it morgifies from a means to a destination to a destination in itself. This is our national religion and its tenet is ‘Work is Worship’. We Indians truly do ‘Celebrate Work’.
It would do well if we were to remember these words of Vincent Van Gogh-
Your profession is not what brings home your paycheck.
Your profession is what you were put on earth to do.
And that I think puts the finger on the nub.. rem acu tetigisti.
PS: This is not the sermon of an enlightened soul but a kindred spirit sharing its perspective, gained in a rare moment of clarity, with its brethren lost under the pressure of the paycheck.
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