His Profound Solecisms

Behold! The tranquil fifth hour of anti meridiem. At the chime of this blissful hour, as the world sleeps, a certain someone wakes to his treasured solitude. The subject of his special heed are his closest friends — those books, whose pages the prudence of philosophy illuminate. Philosophy not theological, but certainly political. For the present, at any rate — for who knows what class may interest him next.

But the two limited hours of such bliss fail to tame his supreme conceit. His eloquence of written language at an early age propels him to a delusory sentiment of grandeur; superiority over those whose skills happen to not touch the realm of cognomens. The length and breadth of his researched assignment often exceed those of his fraternal mentees, propelling him thus to the clouds of condescension towards them. He is often overconfident of his stature at university — he does not give much thought to his action of taking on some of his partisan professors by means of his florid essays. In his sea of conceit, he rests secure that none of his florid essays could touch the comprehension skills of his professors. He underestimates them. He must be taught lessons in humility.

He professes a penchant for rational thought, and a modicum of irrationality from anyone engenders within him a Pompeii of ego. Valiantly, he proceeds to surf this wave of conceit — a la Napoleon on his horse — to incinerate that unfortunate being who happens to err, to render him the subject of his ridicule. He does not appear to fathom the import of humility; he forgets in his moment of rational superiority that as others are human, so is he, and prone as others are to irrationality, so is he. Ridicule shall be to his own detriment; it shall return with a vengeance to incinerate him.

He found solace with fellow rational-minded beings on Quora — the question and answer website of repute, but he soon discerned the overarching effects the combination of his supposed intellect and power of loquacity could have on them. He was promoted to the admin status of the Space he joined. For now, he appears to harbour a great affinity for the paradigm espoused by the said Space, and has in accordance with it not misused his powers thus far. But a nudge alone shall suffice to lose balance and venture into the ominous lands of conceit. He might commence silencing the voices of those who differ with him. It is incumbent on us rational beings to check his rise; he exhibits every urge to dominate.

He does not possess much knowledge. His penchant for western political analysts and intellectuals, and his sense of wonder at western military, technological and geopolitical superiority often leads him to be contemptuous of his countrymen. He has all the traits within him to turn into a neo-Anglophile; not as a rule oriented to British culture but to the broad Anglosphere. He claims to not judge individuals on their fluency in English, and indeed does not impugn their intelligence on that ground, but inwardly notices linguistic peculiarities of those not acclimatized to English. He must not be allowed to amplify such sentiment any further; he shall otherwise commence espousing the elitism that characterizes the intellectual elite of his country.

But he is already an unabashed elitist in some measure; he scorns at the thought of venturing into villages so as to be inured to his national reality. While not expressing as much, he presumes a lack of cosmopolitanism and classy elegance within them. He professes a stance in favour of the common thread of culture that forms the substratum of his nation, but knows not a thing concerning its ancient legacy. He is prone to delusions of superiority over his countrymen. He derides the education system of his country, holds ambitions of outsmarting, outwitting and outlearning his professors and one and all around him. He dreams of total dominion over his social circles; failing to be cognizant of the sheer ludicrousness of such thought. Of the fact that he shall soon be humbled, I am certain.

He has abandoned his friends in his housing society, and while their conduct evinces celebration of life itself, he seats himself in his study but a few floors above, and revels in his delusory superiority, thinking of himself as a serious academic who has no time for juvenescent festivities. Fie on his social mediocrity that stirs him away from the path of friendship! He knows not what it is to be a friend in the twenty-first century. He is not remotely a gamer, albeit GTA V appears to interest him a little. Politics ran galore in the WhatsApp group of his society’s friends, all attributable to him in thorough measure, whereas he should have been sharing memes and amorous jokes. Alas! He is on such a different, unenviable plane of existence!

He periodically desires to subject himself to a critical analysis; not owing to a moral compass of altruism but to his selfish interest. He ostensibly dreads the day he shall be pummeled by reality, which is far more sinuous than blogging, essay-writing, video-watching and reprimanding. While one deals with him, one must be nothing short of fully alert. The way to engender humility within him is to smirk smugly in the event that he errs, and errs greatly. Perhaps a little expression of sympathy so as to not make a fiend out of this short-tempered, conceited creature, but certainly a forthright reminder of his errors — substantially.

Utmost regards.




Eternal as evolution is, I cannot purport to have grown in full measure, and I hope to augment my acuity in the company of beings far more erudite than me.

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Samved Iyer

Samved Iyer

Eternal as evolution is, I cannot purport to have grown in full measure, and I hope to augment my acuity in the company of beings far more erudite than me.

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