Parasites
Parasite, a person who has no set personality of their own, one who chooses to follow or, in extreme cases, worse, copy what the “cooler” friend in their group wants to do. Tend to suck in the jolly, extract all of “the cool” guy’s personality and let out a cosmic radiation of cringe. There lies a significant distinction between an artist and a parasite, representing the two ends of a spectrum where the human being lies. Anyone can be a parasite, just like anyone can be an artist; the difference is in the context, not the person. When you let your envy take over, when you let the sheer sense of toxic competition take over, is when you become the parasite for the people who loved you, not because of your envy, but the artist that you killed in your senseless pursuit of “being better” or “being the first”. My first reaction when I encounter such people is anger and disgust, which slowly turns into pity, for it won’t be long before those around them start leaving, leaving only the ones in search of a semblance of validation. It won’t be long before you look around yourself and see nothing but Machiavellians waiting to devour even the very essence that once made you likeable.
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I am well aware of how spiteful the tone of this essay is; it is in no way unintentional. It is this spite that leads me to a deep state of meditation, where I understand how parasites suck the life out of the people around them. It is pretty simple, really. How would you feel if, let’s say, you sit down with your “friend”, ask them if they want to travel with you, maybe to a beach a couple of hours away from the town with a resounding approval from your other friends only to find that the next day that very friend is travelling to coastal Brazil for a fun session of beach football without inviting you. The constant urge to one-up in everything you do, to compete in everything there is, is one of the defining characteristics of a parasite. It is no surprise that Neil Nitin Mukesh’s character from the multi-starrer “hit” movie The Players is so hated. He had no sense of what he liked. He chose to steal from his own gang, didn’t know what to do with the money, so he bought everything that his gang members told him they were going to do with the money, no honour among thieves, I guess. This neurotic tendency to always win stems from a need to maintain status among the people around you. No doubt, upbringing plays a role in this, along with a fragile ego and a lack of self-worth. Unless one chooses to attach their sense of worth to something more concrete, stops comparing themselves with others and instead starts with their own self and works to be better despite the odds, they won’t be able to find a way out of this abyss. A hyper-competitive person can channel their competitiveness into situations that demand it, like the gym, the field or their art. Still, no one is crueller than time, for eventually, when you meet someone better than you, envy starts breeding; a weak man in this situation will not work himself to the extreme. He will instead choose to run from the battlefield into something where he can have a head start and feel good about himself again, a temporary relief, I must say. It is then that the weak metamorphoses into a parasite, an envious, disgusting little parasite. Just like a parasite, they then create a toxic environment in the bodies of the people that they possess. Our parasite creates a toxic atmosphere of competition at every step. The psychological literature acknowledges that in a toxic environment of competition, there is an observable decline in empathy and altruism among the group members. Driven by the parasite’s respect and status in the group, people now attach it to how well they are faring in the competition they never chose to be part of. Now, as empathy declines, the fundamental elements of any healthy relationship, like trust, love, and revelry, also slowly creep out of the relationship, leaving nothing but anxiety, aggression, in-groups and out-groups in a group of friends. These parasites create an environment in which status and respect are limited resources, as the Robber’s Cave experiment demonstrates the Realistic Conflict theory, which holds that conflict stems from competition for scarce resources. By creating an illusion of a dearth of respect and status in a group of “friends”, these parasites are choosing to be in a toxic relationship, for anyone else of a sane mind will understand this and leave for a group of friends who love and respect everyone despite their flaws, celebrating the smallest of wins with revelry of a conqueror’s legion. The parasites, though, are not fools despite being on a fool’s errand, for if they catch on to your transition before you have had a chance to emotionally come to terms with moving on from them, they will manipulate you, guilt-trip and gaslight you into thinking that you are abandoning them. It requires a sane, balanced, and clear head to realise the adverse effects of this parasite in your life and leave when the time is right.
Just like real parasites, these envious dweebs are very powerful in a body (body here being the collective psyche of a group). Still, if anyone has ever seen a tapeworm outside a person’s body, they will know how weak and disgusting they really are. You don’t have to be scared of them; you have to be mindful when in a group where competition speaks louder than fun, and comparison is the norm of the day. To be scared of them is to give them undue respect, which, in my eyes, they don’t deserve. The silver lining, though, is that, unlike real parasites, they are not doomed to this life. If someone is brave enough and close enough to them, they can hopefully try to fix them. I personally could never, since I believe, “I can fix them” is also a syndrome that needs careful diagnosis before venturing further, and well, I will save it for my following essay.
