A GWACHI GA, THE HAPPY FEET, THE NIHILIST AND THE POWER OF NARRATIVES

 

“Oye Gwachi ga, Kithe chale?”  (I will let you in on the meaning a little later) Havildar Mahinder Singh shouted at the soldier carrying something and seemingly headed in the wrong direction. 

I was a young lieutenant on attachment with an Infantry Battalion and was overseeing the maintenance parade of the unit. I liked the way my troops spoke Punjabi. It sounded musical even when they said the harshest things. The way Malayalam, my mother tongue, is spoken also changes from place to place. In my area, it sounds bland, but it often meant far more beyond what was said. However, in Thrissur and Trivandrum, there is a distinct musical touch to the way they speak their dialect. The Punjabi my troops spoke was different in every possible way. 

We, as officers, are expected to learn the language of our Troops and communicate with them in their mother tongue.  During my training, I had picked up Hindi. I could communicate my way around. However, there was a problem. In Hindi, even inanimate things were either masculine or feminine.  I generously erred with my ‘ka’ and ‘ki’ because I had no idea about the gender of a chair, a bed, a bus, or a train. In those days, language was merely a medium of communication and nothing beyond. We were less easily offended, more forgiving, and my friends did not turn foes over my language proficiency.

Back to the maintenance parade 

I was trying hard to learn Punjabi. I was always on the lookout for new words and phrases. I had picked up some expletives. I had someone teach me how to abuse properly.  Believe me, I even practised taking those out from the depth of my stomach with my diaphragm working to its full capacity. But what Mahinder sang that day was a new verse. 

“Gwachi ga, ki honda hein? (What is Gwachi ga?)” I turned to the Junior Commissioned Officer standing next to me and asked. He smiled and then patiently explained to me about the “Lost Cow”. So, Havildar Mahinder had shouted, “Oh, You Lost cow, where are you off to?” I visualised a cow that got separated from the herd, either by choice or by circumstances and its frantic efforts to get home somehow before it was dark and dangerous.  As a child, I always associated danger with darkness. I also visualised the treatment it would have received on getting back.

Gwachi ga, it turns out, is a derogatory term to imply that someone is a dope, or a ‘lost case’. It also refers to people without a sense of purpose or direction. There is no romanticism associated with Gwachi ga. It implies just plain inefficiency, stupidity, wrong choice, and inconvenience to others. I have never used this phrase for anyone. However, on multiple occasions, I used it to admonish myself when I mess up things or go wrong in judgment. I tell myself, Gwachi ga, banda ban. (Oh, you lost cow become a human being – meaning be wise), Interestingly, I end up saying so in the very same tune Mahinder sang that day. I often do it aloud. 

Why this thought now?

A few days before the 56th Annual meeting of the World Economic Forum, in Davos, Switzerland, between 19 and 23 January, the Social media was on fire with a video clip of a penguin walking away from its flock. The video, believed to be part of the movie Encounters at the End of the World, shot by filmmaker Werner Herzog in 2007, suddenly gained traction. The Adélie Penguin seemed to deliberately separate itself from its colony and head inland across the Antarctic ice, away from other penguins and toward distant mountains. It seemed that it had no desire to be with others. Headed away from the ocean, it was actually walking into certain death. Some called it deranged, while others called it a more sophisticated name, The Nihilist, for its suicidal tendency. Some funny people made a meme and even put a human face to it.  

It was not the first time that a penguin behaved this way. An Emperor Penguin wandered about 3000 km from Antarctica and was found on Peka beach in New Zealand in June 2011, eating sand, mistaking it for snow. They called him “Happy Feet.” Environmentalists advanced various theories, some biological and a few psychological. Journalists romanticised it and gave different names.  While for the hopelessly lost and suicidal, Happy Feet sounds ironically victorious, and The Nihilist profoundly philosophical.

But something troubled me. Why is one deviant called Happy Feet, and the other, The Nihilist, while our own version of the lost is plain Gwachi Ga?

Blame it on the times we live in, yet unfair, I have never heard any psychologist, psephologist, biologist, economist, sociologist, or even a deeply emotional nationalist come in support of the Gwachi Ga. After all, Gwachi Ga is the desi version of Happy Feet. In most cases, at the end of the day, the Gwachi Ga returns home either on its own or with somebody's help. It doesn’t even for a moment think of walking away for good. It is only lost, but not suicidal. Don't we say “Subah ka Bhula, Sham ko Ghar Aaye” to pardon the prodigal and celebrate the return? Yet the Gwachi Ga doesn't get the consideration.

Why are similar incidents interpreted differently?

In all likelihood, the answer lies in the way narratives are created. Most often, right or wrong, the narrative created first takes precedence over subsequent narratives. They call it the first-mover advantage. Once a narrative has been formed and circulated, it gains traction because confirmation bias takes over. We rarely look for evidence to determine what is right or wrong, but toil hard to reassure ourselves that what we believe is right. We might seek evidence, but would accept only that which confirms our beliefs. Unfortunately, even in the face of strong evidence to the contrary, this dangerous and deep-rooted cognitive bias, called confirmation bias, persists.  Worse, it is present everywhere. This is why propaganda is the most effective tool in social engineering. Shrewd politicians exploit the first-mover advantage while accusing rivals of corruption and wrongdoing to set in motion a narrative that gains credibility through confirmation bias. The ignorant followers, easily taken in, just take care of the rest, and the political adversary is left to fight accusations that have no truth.  Many a witness has testified in courts of law across the world, against people believing what they said was true. Many a mobs have gone on the rampage and taken the lives of innocents without remorse. 

The Penguins might have been suicidal in their approach, but the people who filmed it were either compassionate, adventurous or even philosophical. The first word of the narrative in all possibilities decided the course of the story. While one became a Happy Feet, the other became a nihilist.

What about our very own Gwachi ga?

I think it stems from a deep-rooted bias that has been passed on to us through generations. Imagine the trouble our forefathers would have had going out late in the evening in search of the missing cow.  The Gwachi ga was only a source of discomfort and a cause of worry because it mattered a lot to the livelihood of its owner. When something is existential, and we ourselves barely subsist, there is no time for philosophising or romanticising. 

A person devoid of purpose will, for the time being, remain a Gwachi ga. Maybe someone will come up with a new narrative. Then maybe, a Gwachi ga can look forward to a better and meaningful existence.

Video courtesy AI Grok