By P Mohan Chandran
Where exactly should compassion begin and end? Does it have boundaries, maybe lines marked on the pavement or notices on apartment walls? If Article 51A(g) of the Indian Constitution makes it our duty to “show compassion for living creatures,” then why is this simple act of kindness complicated by neighborhood rules and residents’ preferences?
Here’s where it gets fascinating. Some people generously recommend: “Feed the street dogs, just not here. Do it outside.” But when the “outside” crowd sees someone feeding animals on the street, the response is instant: “Take them inside! Why do you have to feed them here?” One wonders if compassion was ever meant to be carried out within such strict, contradictory guidelines, boundaries drawn not in the name of safety, but of selective empathy. If kindness could speak, wouldn’t it raise a baffled eyebrow at these guidelines?
Consider the example of an apartment complex where an animal lover begins feeding a stray dog just outside the gate. It’s as if the invisible borderlines of compassion have been breached. “Why not take them inside if you love animals that much?” the gatekeeper of selective empathy chimes in. And, should that same person carry their small, daily act of compassion into the common areas of the building, a fresh line of protest emerges: “This isn’t a zoo! Take it to the streets.”
The Game of “Not Here, Not There” Compassion
In this heartless back-and-forth, it becomes clear that some neighbors would be quite happy if you could feed stray animals — provided, of course, that you find a place where neither society rules nor selective empathy are disturbed. Just imagine a compassionate soul wandering around with food, looking for the perfect, "appropriate" location that satisfies this impossible standard. Would society be pleased if the feeding happens on an island, where neither sight nor sound of the act of compassion ever offends anyone?
It’s not only laughable but deeply ironic that something so intrinsic to human decency as compassion could be marred by such self-centered rules. Compassion, after all, is the act of helping without expectation, boundless and open, meant to be exercised wherever the need arises. The idea that one could put compassion on a leash — directing where and when it can be shown — borders on absurdity. It’s like placing a “No Entry” sign on empathy or reserving it for specific hours and locations.
The Satirical Complexity of “Right Location” Compassion
In this bizarre, Kafkaesque world, Article 51A(g) feels like a forgotten clause in the collective consciousness of society. After all, when Article 51A(g) states that it’s our duty to show compassion toward animals, it doesn’t specify a list of “approved zones” or require prior registration of empathy. It simply calls on each of us to show kindness.
Yet the questions linger, hinting at society’s love for selective morality: Is there really a “wrong” place to feed a hungry animal? What if compassion is shown in a gated complex, or a bustling street corner, or a park bench? Are we so threatened by the simple act of feeding a stray that we prefer compassion only when it’s far enough from our sight, quiet enough for us to ignore?
The Finale: Should Kindness Be Contained?
And here lies the ultimate irony, a reflection of our own fragmented values. Why is compassion questioned based on its location? Are animals somehow less deserving of kindness when near us, disrupting our perfectly curated existence? Has human empathy reached a stage where it requires specific zones, marked areas where it’s acceptable to be kind?
In a world of boundary-based compassion, where and when would you draw the line? And, more importantly, why would we try to limit kindness in the first place? In truth, perhaps it’s not the feeding of strays that disrupts us, but the constant reminder of the boundless compassion we have failed to offer — one that transcends any fence, gate, or “designated area” for kindness. So, the question remains: Where do we stop drawing boundaries, and when do we start truly living the principles of compassion, as intended, without conditions or constraints?
© 2024. P Mohan Chandran. All Rights Reserved.
Commenti