Decline and fall are common historical perceptions. They are also a recurrent feature of our socio-economic-political vista, where decline comes as a natural sequel to narcissistic elevation. Perhaps it is a natural way of restoring balance. Or simply, it is a legitimate reminder of the dust that stands beneath our feet.

A dust from which weeds and flowers spring forth and wither away in equal measure, and a reality which greets hero and zero in like manner as they rise and fall to kick and bite it in alternating fashion. A dust which has seen countless names and faces and other historical reference points, and will still see many more. A dust which creeps up on us in slow timely layers, or which descends upon us rapidly like a dark cloud. A dust from which, unfortunately, there is no escape.

Perhaps the biggest casualty in Manipur's fall from grace is the decline of civic virtue and also of ordinary civility. There is a marked erosion of the moral and political qualities that make up a good citizen, or even a decent human being. Our value systems have come crashing down to ground level, and even before the dust settles, there is the same familiar sinking, the same old endless striking, the same shots fired in anger, the same highway blockade wonder, the same sums swindled without shame, the same blame-it-all-on Delhi game.

New Delhi may have kicked us hard with its military boot, but the option of progressively lowering standards was entirely ours. The decline is more or less uniform in character, and hence, completely predictable.

On of the features of the downward trajectory has been the total disregard for the sanctity of human life. There is often a thin line drawn by our moral guardians between the concept of good and evil; a concept which has archaic medieval implications, and which has a rather prehistoric and brutal end in store for those who dare cross it. If the prospect of gory punishment and death was meant to act as a deterrent, it should have succeeded with the first bullet fired.

It should have changed the social and political order for the better. But apart from deepening the fear and insecurity psychosis, nothing much of the old order has changed around us. And if bowdlerizers and keepers of the moral flame remain dissatisfied, then it may well be time to ask how that order may be changed.

A common question left unanswered is the expectation that common people have of one another. When each of them represents 1/27, 00,000th of an imposed order, we may have expected some degree of commitment - but to what? Not to Sana Leipak; that concept has never really captured the collective imagination. It remains at best a feel-good recording regurgitated by an overload of nostalgia, and an illusory slogan of a far away treasure in an abstract timeless dimension.

Not to India; the appearance of democratic structures has stood in some tension with the practical pluralism of our society. Most of those who mourn our lost civility quickly replace the loss with the all-powerful bargaining chip of the almighty rupee. Our allegiance is to the Reserve Bank of India first, and the rest of the nation later.

It is a special kind of commitment, stripped of the historic mystical connotations of loyalty to God, nation, state and King. We stand partly by choice, partly by necessity, on narrower ground. Ours is a duplicitous allegiance of mutually distrusting cultures, and our people and politics are basically Judaic in character; it does not lend itself to ritualistic elaboration, but still rubbishes itself and others with the same puritan language.

Contemporary societies require an intense form of social discipline, and this discipline is probably the only factor which sets apart a progressive society from a declining one. We only have to look at our own situation to realize the extent of our downfall. It is reflected in our (non) sense of time, our inability to work methodically and sincerely, our acceptance of bureaucratic hierarchies, and our habitual orientation to get the maximum by doing the minimum.

Consider, for example, the fact that each of us, at some point of time, will procure our quota of kerosene, petrol, or diesel from dubious sources without questions or complaints because of the absence of choices in the wake of an artificial scarcity of all of the above.

Consider also, that most of us pay little or no taxes to the government, but we will have promptly paid ten times that amount towards medieval tithes. We ourselves are the calculators and the collectors; the tax system could not and will not succeed without our conscientiousness. Surely our tax system is a triumph of civilization. There are very few political orders within which one can imagine such a system working.

Clearly, our habits have changed for the worse. We have grown less law-abiding and more gun-abiding. The law exists only to be taken into one's own hands. The rise of the vigilante coincided with the fall of civic consciousness, which also suggests that we have become more accustomed and tolerant to violence now than in the past. If civility has been burnt at the stake, then incivility has been raised to a new pedestal.

And the loudest voices heard in that elevated place are those struggling with excuses and accountability. The Rambo approach, set it in the context of a larger societal decline, is a game called moral annihilation, in which you don't just disagree with your opponent, you destroy him.

There have been complaints and more complaints about declines for years, and yet here we are, unfazed and unbothered. If our state were on a permanent downhill slide, we'd have bottomed out by now. But to say that we have indeed hit rock bottom would be an overtly harsh overstatement, for there are still moments of sunshine in between storms.

The important thing is not to underestimate how good things were in the past. Yes, it's likely that society could be on a permanent downward trend in everything that characterizes it. But there are thousands of variables that go into making a good society. Clean streets. Clean governments. Stable families. People who don't murder each other.

Job security. Friendly communities. Peaceful neighbors. Plentiful leisure.

Parents who spend enough time with their children. The list could go on and on.

I would, however, like to add one more thing to that list. Tolerance. And a little bit of everyday, ordinary kindness to go with it.