About legends in their own minds

Their life is full of ‘Holy shit! Me?’ moments. They feel awe when they behold themselves. They will always tell you they are so humbled by it all. But their hubris is all around us

He looks like a likeable fellow. There’s an energy about him. He’s known to be extraordinarily talented, with a list of professional achievements and awards to prove it. Popular? Definitely. Wealthy? Almost certainly, though he doesn’t flaunt it. People like to be in his presence. They say he’s not only enterprising but also generous, above and beyond. Even though he has some very quirky quirks, he’s well respected and adored by many. He’s an inspiration.

I’m not talking of any particular individual, though I know several who fit this description. You would too.

Hidden among the ranks of these amazing people—typically men—are a few with a unique trait. When they behold themselves, they feel a sense of awe, an overwhelming sense of, “Holy shit! Me?”

They are legends in their own minds. 

I first heard the term in the 1990s in the advertising agency that employed me as Creative Director. The reference was to the agency’s head, the late, great, Alyque Padamsee, theatre director, actor and advertising titan who jokingly referred to himself as “God”. 

No one would have accused Alyque of undue modesty but I never once believed that he was intimidated by himself. He took his creativity and grandeur for granted, never once doubting that he was always right. He was too self-aware of his outsize ego to consider himself a legend.

Those who work closely with ‘legends’ speak of their bottomless generosity, irrespective of status or position. Mr. Y, one such man, a giant among bankers, was known to have once dropped everything to be with his driver in the hospital for 36 hours when his wife was undergoing critical surgery. 

In later years, though, the driver paid a heavy price. The banker would treat him like dirt, talking gruffly, even coarsely, making him work brutal hours, invading his Sundays and giving him duties well beyond a chauffeur’s. Mr. Y’s generosity was an indelible stain on the poor fellow, demeaning him as a needy minion forever.

The word in the bank was, “Never take help from Mr. Y. He looks down on those he helps. You’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

People who end up stunned by themselves get there in small, anaesthetic increments, like a frog in a vat of slowly heating water. One such person, Mr. Z,  used to swear in his barefoot days that he was a middle-class Punjabi lad at heart and would stay that way, in touch with his inner dancer. Success would not change him.

But as his business boomed and his natural entrepreneurial genius took him to greater heights, he read articles that described him in terms he’d never applied to himself: game-changer, radical, disruptor. 

Recently, at a Gurgaon club, I saw nearly everyone bowing deferentially to him as he entered. “See how they respect me,” he whispered. “I was one of them, and they see where I am now. I inspire them with my stature.”

Mr. Z had become a legend in his own mind, though he’d be very upset if you told him this. The frog was fully boiled.

Over the years, I’ve observed several traits in these ‘legends’.

1. The flamboyant public persona hides a person insecure, even embarrassed, by his roots. The flip side of seeing yourself as a legend is fearing that the real you is unacceptable and best kept chained in the basement.

2. He recognises no peers, only inferiors and superiors. His closest friends are his lessers, bound to him by affection, obligation and gratitude, who would never criticise him. The power is his.

3. He will convince himself he was born with the magic. In his rewritten life narrative, he is a self-made man who went from nothing to everything without anyone’s help. Everyone who stood by him will be systematically written out of the script.

4. He will sleepwalk into his golden years believing himself to be a much-loved and wise patriarch, a man with answers to lesser people’s questions, but nothing much to learn from anyone. No one around him will disagree.

What great harm could come from a self-anointed legend, you might ask? After all, an inflated sense of self-importance is a private thing. True—except when limitless ego is married to unfettered power. Ego then morphs into hubris, and arrogance becomes a national model.

I used the word hubris last week to bemoan the growing belief among many that India is and has always been the hub of the universe. As India grows into an economic powerhouse with serious global clout, we are all at risk of considering ourselves legendary. Many of us already strut about in coats of hubris.

In Greek myth, arrogant Icarus flew too close to the sun and was brought crashing to earth. The gods invariably rained tragic consequences down on those with hubris. 

Among those who responded to last week’s column was Padma Bhushan Mallika Sarabhai, danseuse, actor, director and much more. Fresh from completing a production of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, she wrote, “The world is being run by leaders with hubris. Your article resonated.” She ended with wishes for a saner, safer world.

I believe the road to that world is called humility.

You can reach C Y Gopinath at [email protected]
Send your feedback to [email protected]
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.

"Exciting news! Mid-day is now on WhatsApp Channels Subscribe today by clicking the link and stay updated with the latest news!" Click here!