That right to entitlement

Often, it appears as if there are various forms of entitlement constantly rubbing against each other in a silent dance of brute force

It's a funny business this thing about entitlement. It stretches all the way from the minister who helps himself to the State exchequer because he feels it comes with the territory, to the brat at the bar who insists on being served a last drink after it is closed because his daddy is a big shot, to the woman at the beauty parlour who expects the entire service universe to coalesce around her because her surname carries a steel conglomerate in its spelling.

At the heart of entitlement lies a very large expectation: the expectation that you would be given special treatment because of who you are or what you've done.

Cricketers who have scored record-breaking runs expect that the very least the powers that be can do in return to show gratitude is to waive that tiny matter of import duty on their latest sports car. Communities with muscle and lung power think nothing of holding up an entire city for a fortnight of traffic jams and 24x7 processions because of their majority right to cause nuisance, businessman in a hurry to reach the top assume its their prerogative to cut corners and steamroll minor irritants like tribal ways of life and, of course, scamsters of every hue would think twice about bending the law if they were not fuelled by the thought that it was their right to circumvent it in order to get what they wanted. But these are only the most obvious examples of entitlement, so well known as to become cliches of contemporary living.

What about the more insidious forms of entitlement embedded deeper in our society? The entitlement that Indian sons feels about inheriting more than their fair share of family property? The entitlement that heterosexuals feel when they assume that the whole world shares their orientation? The entitlement that men feel when on a local bus one evening they see a young girl and feel aroused?

Dig a little deeper and there will be even more objectionable forms of rights and privileges. The misplaced and ill-advised sense of entitlement that a father feels when he demands sexual favours from his underage and dependant child; the delusional entitlement that a family feels because various members have held public office and been in positions of power. The strident stance that activists take on issues close to their hearts because they feel they are entitled to their high moral ground due to their ideological passion for their cause. The entitlement of the media when it assumes the role of jury, judge and prosecutor because of its enormous clout.

Often, it appears as if there are various, multi-layered and clamouring forms of entitlement constantly rubbing against each other in a silent dance of brute force: I stake my right to this over yours because my sense of entitlement is more compelling.

In this malodorous and fetid scenario of assumed rights and privileges, the ones at the very bottom of the heap are of course those who by their station of birth or dispensation have no knowledge of the most basic and universal entitlement of all. That we are all born equal, and have equal rights to pursue our dreams, ambitions and desires as long as they don't interfere with those of our fellow beings and the law of the land.

I began by saying it's a funny business this sense of entitlement. Where does entitlement end and and where do claims and prerogatives begin? And what of our nation - wasn't it built on the assumption that a proud people with a rich history are entitled to a free republic of their own?

Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasangghvi@hotmail.com