FIFTH COLUMN

Identity

-By C Lal

In our society, a litterateur commands a lot of respect, even though very little else other than that. His faculties of imagination, force of creation and beauty of expression are admired by the readers. Even those who don’t often read are in awe of pots, novelists, essayists, literary critics and such exalted personae who create literature.

On the other hand, writing articles is considered as an unproductive exercise. In the popular perception, it is nothing more than a mere play of words, arranged at the whims and fancies of a meddler who has nothing better to do. Consequently, those who pen articles are sometimes even denied recognition as a writer.

Having never published a book, I am ridiculed when in claim that I am a writer. “Oh, so you write articles,” respondents react with disdain writ large over their faces. Such experiences are so unnerving that sometimes I am tempted to defy Spinoza’s dictum, “It is unreasonable to wrap things of little or no value in a precious cover,” and produce a collection from among over a thousand of my articles published till date. It may not sell, but at least it will establish my credentials.

Another barrage of criticism is often directed at my choice of topics. Since I choose to write upon anything that catches my fancy, there is hardly a pattern in what I produce. Intellectuals do not seem to digest that. In their opinion, those who delve into subaltern should leave the lantern alone. That sounds quite claustrophobic to me. I am neither a researcher, nor an expert, and not even an intellectual should have the freedom to discuss food and Freud, all in the same breath. Events in life aren’t compartmentalized, so why should the writing be so?

Then, there are some charitable readers who suggest that, since my writings appear as columns or opinion pieces, I should call myself a journalist. I wish I could, for I hold journalists in very high esteem. But, frankly, I can’t claim to be one, because of my own inherent weaknesses. I simply do not posses the objectivity and dispassionate attitude required to practice journalism. On the other hand, what I think I posses in ample measure are my little prejudices, pet peeves and, perhaps, a bit of pride too. Hence, I find it safer and more honest to call myself a writer.

Finally, is it necessary to have a right and unique label on everybody? Is it really important whether I am a columnist, a journalist, a critic, a commentator or a writer? If it is not, allow me my little indulgence. As long as you keep reading what I write, let me call myself a writer! And about that little piece of stupidity, bound between covers of vanity, someday that may also materialize.