WHAT ABOUT THAT IDIOT?

We are sane people, not idiots. Will any one of us get the moving plane return back to the airport, get down from it... and, then, run away to meet a long-lost friend? Or, will any one of us, drop everything aside, and jump into your car - minus your pants - for the same cause? What about this: will you agree to spend years in your engineering college, come out with distinction - only to be a dummy of some rich-guy's worthless son?

We know such things happen only in our Bollywood films. Not in real life. Still, think of it - we all loved the '3 Idiots'! Hey, it seems, it is Bollywood's highest grosser of all-time!

Idiots are not straight people... They do odd things, at odd times... and, above all, in their odd ways. On the screen, in the darkness, we loved the idiots... we kept our hands on our 'dil' - and, 'siti bhajake' - sang with them - AL IZ WELL. We laughed, we cried... we loved these characters when they peed on their dean's name plate. Yes, we passed on the message to our nearest and dearest ones: 'Pl don't miss this movie... It is simply too good.'

Yaar, it was. But, I want to know: Why don't we do the things those three idiots did?

I have a seventeen-something son. His final exams are just a few 'sities' away. He hasn't touched his books. "What books?" he asks me, "Mad or what?" He is on his guitar and creates his own tunes... Spends hours talking to some of his friends about things, I may never be able to know, leave alone understand. He eats at the odd hours, sleeps at the odd hours, keeps his room in that glorious mess... and us - his parents - constantly on tenterhooks. "Son, there is a time to work, and there is a time to chill out," I keep reminding him. "What you do is neither important, nor urgent... Remember, some things can wait."

My fear is that, he has to do his basic study. Or, he may even fail. I just do not want that to happen... So, I keep yelling at him, keep reminding him about his responsibilities. "Don't be stupid... Don't be an idiot."

Yes, I do not want an idiot in my house. Yet, I loved those idiots on the screen. I sang with them, laughed with them... cried with them. But, I do not want my son to be an idiot. I don't want him to take back the plane to the airport; I do not want him to run out in his undies; I do not want him to sit dummy for some good-for-nothing fellow and waste his own life... Least of all, I do not want him to stand before his Principal's doorsteps and urinate, do 'mootravisarjan'.

After all, he is not an 'idiot's' son, you see!

It seems, A.R. Rehman works during the night and sleeps during the day. Ditto for Paulo Coelho, the man who wrote (along with several other best-sellers) that famous, little book about following our hearts - 'ALCHEMIST'. These are just two of the 'idiots'... if that is not going to bring me a defamation notice. Just two. They eat at the odd hours, sleep at the odd ours... and do things in their own odd ways.

The other day, when I gave this example to some one - a wise man, mind you... the straight one - his reaction was quicker than acid: "What is great about that? Even the watchmen work during the night and sleep during the day." The Call-center folk were different, you see. So, he left them alone. Then, such wise men are very, very rare. The most common wise men react this way: "But, my friend, Rehman and Coelho are 'successful' people... They are achievers in life... You must know it."

And, my son - that idiot?

Yes, what about that idiot?

Arey bhayya, siti bajake bol: There are two kinds of idiots... One is like my son, and the other is like his father. And, don't forget to say: Arey maamu, AL IZ, DEFINITELY, GOING TO BE WELL.

GERALD D'CUNHA

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