top of page
Writer's pictureYogesh Chandra

The Psychology of Contempt According to Yogesh Chandra


Everyone had set the bar for me as soon as I was born, and to portray the life of a successful adult—I had to play the same game over and over again. It’s the thing that has baffled the entire generation yet the blindfold never seems to ease. Being raised by the society’s expectations, groomed like the gentleman and bathed till the furs outran my own complexion.

I have been trying to understand, expression of freedom when each stem has already been pre-defined. My father once told me, and to listen to the world is as naïve as it would ever get. People obnoxiously run over you when you need them the most, and the elegance in the stringless guitar—that is what we are led into believing.

To just snap out of the repulsion, and walk is such simple yet practically insane. The power lines will detach itself from you, and melted cheese will no longer look at you like it used to. The house is an uncivilized space—and our mind is what keeps it steady. But how can I just pack and leave?

The arena is infatuated with people who only love silver, and if the last bowl on earth were to be filled—the on-goer will not say no to one more. And love, expressions which we forget, it gets better of us each time we walk along the path of the undefined. Nobody ever wrote, and to get more of love and truest of attraction—one starts raging with unrelenting thoughts.

It is as if life were an unfinished poem, no leading poet but acts which drive it wherever it wants to. Everyone speaks of morality in expression but there is no one to beat the system. It’s the reliance on the industrial arena—we think that we can’t live without.

So the rich build houses made of six inched glasses while the poor wait for rain to start rushing as one feeds his family. We are never at ease, and the songs are only here to remind us of things that will never be. In the quest to understand this life, it becomes meaningless to continue when even the reason for me writing this piece would be to get returns from it.

Everything would automatically shatter at that point, and the author is blinded with self-gain. “Study so hard that you beat everyone around you,” says the next member of the society. There is no one to compete with, but ourselves at the realm of each day.

Yet nobody understands, in pursuit of paper that is as unreal as the decision made to get ahold of it. We are so busy running after silver, and if one day—for reality to present itself as something completely different—no one would believe or walk the opposite.

Perhaps it’s the desire to live under a red ceiling, burning bathrooms and scorching silk all over the bedroom. Or to some—inner satisfaction or to walk unto the path dictated by the society. One thinks he would be an outcast if his pursuit is creativity, freethinking and expression as opposed to following the laws governing the immediate society.

-Yogesh Chandra

bottom of page