No catchers in the rye anymore

Just the other day, a line in a news report caught my eye. The article was an update on the death, five years ago, of a courageous activist who had been dear to us here in Bangalore. The case was proceeding at a pace that would put most common or garden snails to shame but the alleged killer was in police custody now, and testimonies were being sought from the victim’s neighbours.

One of them said they heard what sounded like gunshots being fired next door, went outside and caught a glimpse of the killer on his motorbike. We knew something was happening, so we went inside, the neighbour then said.

And that got me thinking. Oh, I’m not being judgmental here; it is in the nature of most of us to quickly vacate a scene of violence/conflict/unpleasantness. Just as it is for most of us to keep our heads low, and go about living our lives as inconspicuously as possible, in times when every move of ours is being policed.

However, reading that news report was a moment of dismal reflection for me. We are all standing alone in the field, left to fend for ourselves. The catchers have all left the fields of rye/ paddy/ wheat/ maize.

Referencing J D Salinger’s cult character, Holden Caulfield, in The Catcher in the Rye, I’m talking about people who come to the aid, tangible or non-tangible, of others. People who care for someone, something other than themselves. People who have a kind word for others, who spontaneously support strangers if these strangers were doing the right thing. People who look out for others, people who stand alongside others to fight for our rights when needed.

Once upon a time, these catchers were people like us, were us. Because in a just world, we would be standing there shoulder to shoulder with them, invested in making things better.

But we don’t live in a just world. And in this broken world with all its jagged edges showing, we find we ourselves are no longer catchers, and also that almost all the catchers have fled the place and we are suddenly alone.

These catchers, they looked out for people who don’t follow the surging current, whose way of thinking doesn’t quite fit into any of the prescribed streams, people who disagree with much of what is being told to us by rote. They looked out for women, part of the tribe whose rights are shrinking day by day, whose hard-won victories are being rolled back in front of their dismayed eyes.

In the moving ode to childhood innocence that is Salinger’s book, the catcher stood in the field of rye and sought to protect children who would unthinkingly rush headlong in the path of danger. That act of catching the kids came from a wellspring of kindness, of compassion. And that compassion has more or less disappeared, quietly draining down the sink like dishwater.

How many of us are catchers now, I ask. How many of us feel compassion for those being hounded around us? How many of us move to help, protect, shield, speak up for those in the path of danger? Let me rephrase that last question. How many of us go out on
a limb for a stranger any more, living as we do in fraught times of deep mistrust and dark
suspicion?

Some of us have switched sides, moved onto the path of least resistance, given in, given up. We value a peaceful life above all else, you see. Others continue to fight the good fight but are increasingly realising that other catchers who were their immunity shield, their suraksha kavach, don’t seem to be around in large numbers anymore. The fight now has become harder, the road more lonely. And we are to blame because we have played a part in chasing these catchers away.

The catchers had another job apart from protecting those who needed protection, a job they did well. Just like their guru Holden Caulfield did, these catchers diligently separated the real from the fake. They shone a light on the authentic and flagged what was not authentic.

They argued cogently for all the old-fashioned virtues of unity, peace, justice, and freedom. That too, was an act of catching, of protection.

But those catchers were human too, and like all humans faced with the rapid shrinking of their spaces, subjected to relentless witch-hunts, arraigned on all sorts of trumped-up crimes, being thrown into prison on the flimsiest of charges, being harassed, trolled, boycotted, they have become exhausted. And quit their catcher jobs.

Which is why there are few catchers around, anymore. Which is why the rest of us are feeling even more vulnerable, day by day. Which is why, in the face of the continued unabating assault on all our freedoms, we are keeping our heads down, silently going about our lives, daunted, dispirited, demoralised.

(The writer is a Bengaluru-based novelist, journalist and manuscript editor)