Last night I was reading a poem written by John Donne in which he scolds his beloved that why she cares about the opinions of people about their relationship. As he believes it is something against the passion of any emotion to pay so much attention to one’s own reputation and people’s openion.this very poem drags me to my real world and the mess created by unwelcomed opinions passed by unwelcomed critics. When we stepped into mature phase of life, we find ourselves in the realm of strict observation and we can’t even figure out that when the shower of criticism gets started. We are not given any to chance to find out any slot to hide ourselves. Because, the people who pass their opinions about our personal matters, do this job with such an authoritative aura that we cannot even think about of checking them.
But, do we really want to check them? I guess not really. Because in some other frame of reference, we are also the part of this very irrational community of critics. We also feel pleasure by talking about others’ personal lives. We also feel light by making rumors of subtle issues of one’s privacy. We pass our hours leisure by making useless phone calls such to tell our friends that roll no: 02 had his break up with roll no: 03 and with this roll.no:06 is very happy. When this opinion making can offer such an immense pleasure then why should I care about at all? Pass comments and face them as well. As it is the part of life. But believe me this is the only thing that has the capacity to create such a great fuss at psychological level that that cannot be removed via any mental therapy.