TROUBLE FOR WORKING MEN

Yesterday I wrote of a class of people whom I called ‘working men’.  They have lot of problems but for which probably they would achieve higher.

Hank Rearden is a character in Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand who was a great achiever and a working man as per my definition.  After heavy work in the factory he goes home and what happens there and what was his feelings is written by Ayn Rand as follows:

“He felt a dim reluctance to enter his home, which he did not want to feel.  No, he thought, not tonight; they’ll understand it, tonight.  But he did not know, he had never defined, what it was that he wanted them to understand.

Why, darling, wife said in a bright tone of amusement, isn’t it too early to come  home? Wasn’t there some slag to sweep or tuyeres to polish?

I’m sorry, he answered.  I know I’m late.

He had no capacity for the sort of conversations which were not supposed to be meant.

Have you had any dinner, Henry?  his mother asked.

Yes … No … I wasn’t hungry.

That’s the trouble I’ve always had with you.  She was not looking at him, but reciting words into space.  It’s no use trying to do things for you, you don’t appreciate it.  I could never make you eat properly.

Henry, you work too hard, said Philip.  It’s not good for you.  Rearden laughed.  I like it.

That’s what you tell yourself.  It’s a sort of neurosis, you know.  When a man drowns himself in work, it’s because he’s trying to escape from something.  You ought to have a hobby.

Oh, Phil, for Christ’s sake!  He said, and regretted the irritation in his voice.

You ought to learn to have some fun, said Philip.  Otherwise, you’ll become dull and narrow.  Single-tracked, you know.  You ought to get out of your little private shell and take a look at the world.  You don’t want to miss life, the way you’re doing.

I had a pretty good time today, Phil, he answered, smiling—and wondered why Philip did not ask him what it was.

He wished one of them would ask him.

It took the whole of his sense of consideration to force himself to answer evenly, ‘I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Mother.’

‘You’re not sorry.  You could’ve been here if you’d made the effort.  But when did you ever make an effort for anybody but yourself?  You’re not interested in any of us or in anything we do.  You think if you pay the bills, that’s enough, don’t you?  Money! That’s all you know.  And all you give us is money.  Have you ever given us anytime?’

If this meant that she missed him, he thought, then it meant affection, and if it meant affection, then he was unjust to experience a heavy, murky feeling which kept him silent lest his voice betray that the feeling was disgust.

Wife knew that his feeling for her was her only weapon.

If she trusted him, he thought, if her feeling for him was still alive, then he would match her trust.”

Every working man undergoes this kind of humiliation.  But what for?  Why can’t people understand that one can enjoy work and such people are not in shell, they are not narrow, single-tracked and that they don’t miss life?  Why can’t people allow them to live the way they want.

That government  is best which governs least.  It is best not to interfere with other’s work and allow everyone to live the way he or she wants.  Even working men need   not and should not find fault with those who enjoy life without work even if it means ruination of the idle person.  Everyone has a right to live the way he or she wants and such right would include right to ruin himself.

Wisdom is to know what to overlook and when to overlook.

Invariably among my friends also there are good number of working men.  I am afraid that they would also have identical problems.  I wish that those who are associated with these working friends of mine would understand and change their approach to see that my working friends would have no problem, so that they can achieve better.