Do manners matter?

Etiquette and manners are important in Europe and America. That?s why they claim manners maketh a man. We in India are less particular, writes Karan Thapar.

I think we’d been married for about six months, a point at which the novelty of the alliance gives way to a quiet confidence that the deed is securely done. It was a Saturday afternoon and Nisha and I had just returned from shopping. Although both my hands were weighed down with heavy carrier bags, I managed to turn the key in the latch and push the front door open. Then, without thinking, I walked through.

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“Hey, hey, hey,” I heard Nisha remonstrate. “What?” I replied without stopping or looking back. I was now well into the building and climbing up to our first floor flat.

“Don’t you believe in holding the door open for your wife?” There’s no doubt she was teasing but I could sense an edge to her voice. I smiled sheepishly. I knew I had erred but I wasn’t going to admit it. Nisha wasn’t going to let me off lightly either.

“It may be a little thing but it counts.” I ignored the self-righteous pomposity. After all, I had been at fault. “And people will judge you by it.”

Etiquette and manners are important in Europe and America. That’s why they claim manners maketh a man. We in India are less particular. That’s why Reader’s Digest finds Bombay the least courteous city in the world. Incidentally, Delhi, Calcutta, Madras, Bangalore and Hyderabad would fare no better. But the real question is do manners matter?

I think they do but I have to concede it all turns on whether you believe politeness and consideration are important. They will be if you care about the impression you make on others. If you don’t, they hardly count. So my short answer is if you worry about how others see you -- and judge you -- manners matter.

Let me give you another example. I was 16, an age when a boy thinks he knows best and the advice of elders is mistaken, intrusive or outdated, if not all three. My sister Kiran and I were on a bus heading towards Hampstead. All the seats were taken when an elderly lady stepped on. She looked around for somewhere to sit and then, visibly disappointed, gingerly held on to a bar as the bus lurched forward. She looked uncomfortable and unsteady.

“Offer her your seat,” Kiran whispered. I ignored her. “Go on.” I could sense her insistence but I was impervious to it. “For God’s sake, Karan, she’s probably five times your age!”

Unable to keep silent I muttered a defiant “So what?” and stared fixedly out of window.

Suddenly a man from the row behind stood up and dragging a leg in plaster offered his seat. He clearly needed to sit but had decided the elderly lady’s claim was better. My face grew beetroot red as I realised what had happened. I was young and should have made the sacrifice myself. Selfishness had prevented me. Kiran turned to me. “You should be ashamed of yourself”, she said. I was too embarrassed to reply.

Today I can put both stories in perspective. Would opening the door for Nisha or offering my seat in a bus to an elderly stranger have made a big difference to their lives? Of course not. Would either judge me by it? Probably not. But would it have created a favourable impression? Without doubt. And that brings me back to the question, does it matter? It all depends on you.

Two other things. There’s no denying manners can be feigned, consideration can be hypocrisy, etiquette can be skin deep. But so what? The motive behind any action can be questioned. Ultimately, what matters is that you’ve done the right thing. Secondly, the argument that it’s the heart that counts, it’s human warmth that matters, is facetious because how are you to know what the heart feels, or how do you sense warmth, if not by politeness and consideration?

If I’m behind you as you walk through a door but don’t hold it open for me, if I spill a sheaf of papers and you don’t help pick them up, if I give you something and you don’t acknowledge it with a thanks I can only presume you don’t want to or it doesn’t matter. But from this I’m hardly likely to conclude “Never mind, he has a good heart” or “At least he’s not being hypocritical”. It’s far more likely that I’ll mutter under my breath “bloody bastard.”

Tell me, would I be wrong?