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Autobiography Of A Duffer

  By Santosh Jha

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  Copyright 2013 Santosh Jha

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  Other Titles By Santosh Jha

  Onlyness (Fiction)

  Back To Bliss: A Journey To Zero (Fiction)

  Naked Solutions Of Dressed Up Life Woes (Non-fiction)

  Habitual Hero: The Art Of Winning (Non-fiction)

  Maya And Leela: Utility In Life’s Futility (Non-fiction)

  Why We Flop In Love (Non-fiction)

  Wisdom Of Wellness: Perpetuity Of Poise Of Purpose (Non-fiction)

  Decipher Destiny: Decode God’s Will (Non-fiction)

  Youth Sanity In Crazy Culture (Non-fiction)

  Redeem & Reinvent The Art Of Lost Wellness (Non-fiction)

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  I

  Honestly, I do not understand how to make a start. Actually, I do not even know, whether this can be said for a start. Unashamedly I can say that I am not sure, nor do I care whether this honesty is what I can pull off as okay and does not matter sorts. The simple thing; as I think I can put it this way is; I have to say things.

  What I have to say? How stupid! People cannot even ask their questions in the right order. The first thing should always be first. Why people should listen to me comes first; then only the questions like why I have to say and why I can say, etc come. What I have to say is basically the last thing in the queue, given that I want to say because I also wish to be listened.

  You know, my parents think I cannot even think, let alone think it right. But I tell you; and there is no harm in believing something without questioning; I can think right. That is why I asked myself the first thing first. Actually, to be honest, I asked this to my wife. You know what she said? First, you promise me that you will not laugh. It is bad manners to laugh at a woman, especially when she is not your wife but someone else’s. She said, rather, she asked me whether I knew why teams played sports against each other. She said, they did it not to win but to make others lose. People also listen to or read what others have to say not to learn from their experiences but for enjoying their pains from their bad experiences. Sadism is the best joy; she says, not I.

  Actually, she may not be completely wrong, even if I discount the fact that she hates sports. I once read a best-paid soccer star saying it about one of his favorite goals. He said he enjoyed it more than sex with his girlfriend. How could he? Can kicking a stupid ball in a wide net be a joy more intense and satisfying than sex, that too with your beloved?

  It looks so. I mean, how they throw themselves into wild exhilaration and boisterous celebrations after a goal! I never get such a huge kick in sex to behave uprooted like that. I admit; I am shocked. How demeaning men can be in relating such a divine experience as body intimacies with a sadistic joy of making your opponent one down. I would have understood and even appreciated if someone would say a goal is like a rape, forcing your way to leave someone devastated. How stupid! People cannot even choose their words the right way. On the other hand, do they do sex the wrong way? How can I say, I am not an expert of soccer or sex. I am just a duffer!

  You know, I have read that people need to be honest when they write their biographies so I will also be. Honestly, I think my wife may be right this time. Not because she is far more educated than me or because she has read more books than many around me. I admit her sense of righteousness because she is a very smart and contemporary woman and I know, women today know much better about all possible stupidities of this world as they actually face the multidimensional stupidities of people and society. Mt wife has a brilliant sixth sense of sniffing anything, which may cause her trouble in a decade from now. I usually trust her discretion. I have to, in this case as, I am writing my memoirs only because she thinks I can pull it off well.

  I have reason to believe, she is right. Have you been to a crematorium or a graveyard ever? I have been there once. I can tell you; as I have resolved to be very honest; you feel immense satisfaction that death happened not to you but to the close person whom you have brought there. I am talking about satisfaction, not joy. Joy is for conscious self, more surface level. However, satisfaction is very subtle and is in sub-conscious mind. That is why it is not registered easily.

  This satisfaction; you can call it joy; after all the common perception of satisfaction is the amount of joy you get in life; is similar to what you get when you peep into the lives of your neighbor and feel good that they are indulging in such foolishness that you would never do.

  No…no, please; tell me, why do you all watch the stupid daily soaps on your favorite television channel or the cacophonic reality shows? Ha…ha…gotcha! You all enjoy that the characters in the television serials do those stupidities and horrendous idiosyncrasies that you would never ever do. Taking judgments on other’s stupidities is one huge sadistic joy! It is altogether different matter that you all actually repeat the similar stupidities. Your subconscious mind is actually far more stupid than you are. However, the genius of conscious mind is a master of the craft of procrastinating this simple reality. Sorry, why should I say this? If you feel, you can present your truths when you write your own biography. This is mine and I should stick to my honesty only.

  Anyway, what I was telling you is that it can be true that people get immense joy in knowing what wrongs and foolishness others have done in their lives so that they could not repeat it and that is why they read what others have to say. Actually, there is no harm in admitting that people usually have a feel good factor, when they read in books about characters and protagonists going through all sorts of silly and manageable conflicts in brilliantly insurmountable ways, to have the pleasant assurance that they are not the only stupid in the world. It is such a relief to know that it is actually okay to be a stupid in this large world. Whether they learn from it, I am not sure. However, I do not think this alone can be a reason why people read others.

  Okay, I love my wife but this does not mean I should accept whatever she says and never allow other perspectives. In fact, I have never really understood how people read such bulky books of hundreds of pages. I always feel and I have actually seen it; people have so much trouble in their lives, they have so little time for even themselves and above all, they otherwise look so unconcerned about anything but self. Why then they read books. My Mom always has a thick novel in her bag and she buys so many of them. Even her ipad has over 50 ebooks, she buys from online stores; but I wonder she has the time to flip even five pages. It is altogether different matter that whenever she buys a new title, she updates her status at Goodreads and Facebook that she is reading it. However, this cannot be the basis of my conclusion. I only know my mom well; cannot say about so many others, who buy books. I surely needed an answer before I could write my biography.

  I must say I am not very inclined to do what I am doing. I am just 23 years old and all I can garner, as my achievement in life is my class 12 exam, which I passed against the wildest expectation of my family and friends. Yes, my life has been full of unimaginable stupidities but I cannot accept my wife’s suggestion that people would be interested in knowing about them and will derive the sadistic pleasure that they were not as duffer as me.

  I have my truths; I have my life experiences and my revelations, which my stupidities and that of others’ bestowed on me have made possible. However, I am not confident people will even accept them. Acceptance is not the contemporary intellectualism; I have seen it all through my life. In Twitter and Facebook, everyone is out to prove other wrong. Rejecting and rubbishing innocence has come to be recognized as highest intellectual pursuit and the social networking sites are the best place to see it happen at its worst. Even on television, anyone can see how
every panelist pounces upon the simplest of assertions of others. If you are an intellectual, the first thing you must do is say, ‘I beg to differ’ even when you do not actually know why and what you differ.

  My wife has told me, ‘why would anyone listen to you if you are not different’ and she seems to be right as being different has become the core creed of intellectualism. But then, the question is, why anyone shall be interested in my stupidities? There are already so many around! Actually, all human stupidities and idiocy are primeval and all pervasive. I am not saying this; the whole world around me is out to prove that there are so many stupid politicians, bureaucrats and silly middle class around, who are making life hell for others. And, as aping is first instinct of humanity, everyone feels so happily inclined in adding loads of repeat value to these foolishnesses, which they decipher in others. Why should anyone be interested in my own, when mine are definitively anything but different?

  You know, confidence is not always a winner; not even an asset if you do not have the obduracy of arrogance to put your foot down and say, ‘yes, I will, come what may’. I have had answers to many questions in my life. At times, I was even confident I should go with my own answers even if it meant trouble for me but I was never allowed. Actually, to be precisely honest, I never had the courage of arrogance.

  That is why; I finally accepted others’ answers as the right one for me. I think, I have the answer for this question also, as why people read books. I am 23 now and I have seen enough in my life. I have realized that people have problems only with people. They do not have problems with aliens, devils, ghosts and zombies. They love to know about them, read books a lot about them and delectably watch movies made on them. They do not have problems with dogs or even cats; rather people love them more than fellow humans. I have seen all this in Animal Planet television channel. It is what you can call intra-species rivalry. A tiger cannot tolerate another tiger in his territory, even his own mother or siblings. It can however tolerate and accept hyenas and leopards around. Humans are similar. They cannot tolerate another human if he or she happens to be outside their symbiotic beneficiality.

  My dad never had time for my dear grandpa. He did not like him; I know that. However, now when my grandpa is dead, he has got a huge portrait made of grandpa and often quotes his words as ultimate wisdom. He religiously changes the rose garland on his portrait every Sunday. Books are also non-competitive like a dead man. It is like a portrait of a dead reality, which nobody has problem in accepting and even garlanding.

  Dead persons cannot speak back and are amenable to any interpretation like a book. A book is a non-animated utility, in the probabilistic domain of potential wisdom, like my dear grandpa and his personality. Moreover, books do not beg to differ. However, it is my view. This however is available for selective aping.

  My wife however, dutifully says, ‘I beg to differ’. She insists I should accept her viewpoint that people would read my biography, as they would enjoy my stupidity and relish the ultimate joy of life, the sadistic pleasure. I have accepted her answer. I told you, I do not have the courage of obduracy of arrogance to stick to my ephemeral confidence.

  My grandpa, whom I loved the most, had once told me, ‘don’t get stuck to a question and move ahead. If you do not find the right answer, it does not mean there isn’t any. It does not seem coming to you right then, may be because, you are not ready for it. It shall come, when you are set to receive it.’ I accept what he said. I must move ahead.

  You see, honesty is no static virtue. People my generation should not accept it as a talent. Rather, it should be treated as a smart craft. It is something like being unapologetic about others’ fallibility and sound concerned. People anyway are honest only about others. It comes easy and what essentially comes easy is what humanity accepts as ‘pragmatic intelligence’ and what stands as tough and difficult, is labeled with due respect as ‘virtue’. Pragmatism always comes handy to us and that is why, it is a pragmatist’s call to be practical about virtues in life.

  My dad is very knowledgeable. He has taught me many smart ideas like these. He says, honesty is useless without faith, it is futility’s ultimate utility and faith is a loser’s last consolation. It is such a waste for those who want to win. He makes me believe that winning in every possible ways is what an individual should do because, it is the only thing he or she can do. When success is in your side, it is for others to decipher and assign virtues or vices to it. If you do not do what is your part of life, others shall never do their part and this way, you are out of the picture and focus of society. And, nothing has any worth if it is not weighed up well and enough in societal marketplace. I need to believe him as my dad is hugely successful man and has hordes of people, who both love and hate him for what he is.

  You know, dads are strange. I think I can say that dads are the avoidable link between a grandfather and a grandson. They actually spoil the legacy of a grandpa. Even the law says grandpa’s legacy goes straight to grandson and not to the son. Dads always whine that their dads never cared to respect their point of view in life but when it comes to their own sons, they love to do similar mistakes. That is exactly why I said, aping is first instinct of humanity, and everyone feels so happily inclined in adding loads of repeat value to predecessor’s foolishnesses.

  I must tell you, I am 23 now and it is not necessary to accept all what dad says. Still, I am not relying on my honesty when I am writing my biography. My grandpa had said, ‘honesty is not public virtue, it’s your soul and you don’t wear your soul on your sleeves’. I must say, I am always more inclined to having my grandpa’s legacy directly, instead of it coming via his son.

  I admit, there is no need to feel great about being honest. Nevertheless, you at times need it for very practical reason that there are truths and people should know them as they are. I do not feel the need to sound virtuous when I tell you that I have been labeled retarded and ridiculed by all, including my parents for being a duffer and a laggard since I was born.

  However, I can tell you that it needs a lot of courage to admit that you are a retarded guy. A handicap is an honesty you do not love to wear on your sleeves. However, I do not claim virtuosity for my courage. Essentially, a retarded has claims only to his fallibilities. And I truly believe my fallibilities are my assets. And I am not saying this with a sense of virtuosity. It is a simple thing like the ambient air.

  My fallibilities are my assets, not because this is only what I have. Not because they occasionally retrieve compassion from others for me, especially from those I love. Not because it makes me compassionate, about others who do wrong against me. Not because my stupidities make others and me learn. Not because they are best means of what, my wife calls sadistic joys. Not because they protect me from many undue performance pressures that the normal people are overburdened with.

  Assets they are because, my fallibilities have led me to the discovery of the most precious treasure of our mortal life – the sense of humor. You become a humble owner of this treasure only when you have the courage, the courage of innocence to laugh at yourself. I am 23 now and I can tell you it is not easy. You have to be absolutely honest about and with yourself, your own fallibilities and stupidities and above all, your mortality. It is surely not easy for normal people, who are culturally trained to accept only winning as a self-worth utility.

  You have to constantly and emphatically tell your highly inflated self and ego that look; you are nothing, a poor mortal thing, full of fallibilities, a non-entity, just a second away from being a nobody and a definite past, at any stage of your life. It is a very painful process before you can actually understand and acquire this treasure of humor. You need to have the innocence to accept and ingrain the consciousness of mortality. With mortality comes humility and it opens the door for humor. I have chased death multiple times, till the last door and there stood my humility. I came back to life with the treasure of humor.

  A smile, a hearty laugh is priceless, if you can give i
t to others. Even God cannot make you smile. He rather makes you cry. He took my grandpa away. God’s faith can give you the strength to get out of your pains but only people can give you joys and smiles. It is such a cruel world. I know that. And I know, how even a tiny bit of smile from a person, whom you even do not know well, makes such a huge difference to your wellness. It takes innocence to accept it. Sadly, people do not put innocence upfront; they instead choose to display their intelligence.

  I am a bloody retarded waste. I am not complaining; even for normal people things are not easy, I understand that. They do not smile, cannot have a hearty laugh quite often. I always smile; all duffers like me smile all the time. I can make others smile and laugh. Not all duffers can do it. Because; not all duffers have a grandpa like I had. He taught me to smile and also make others smile and laugh.

  As I told you, God cannot help you much. Only we can help each other. This world is a very cruel place and if you do not have somebody, who can take your hand and lead you to sanity, you will end up knocking all wrong doors. I took to drugs and almost killed myself. I committed suicide and survived. I could have tried it again but my grandpa led me to the right doors. He told me that God always sent his angels on earth with a mission to gift smile and laughter to the troubled humanity. These angels were made to be born as humans and had special abilities that other humans did not have. They are different and their mind programming is also very distinct. God intentionally loads them with all fallibilities to stand them as best qualified for the treasure of humor.

  I accept his word that I am God’s angel and it is my duty to spread smile and laughter to the troubled humanity. That is why I am writing my biography. Though I know; and I have learnt it from my own experience that even my best efforts can make smile only one in a million. Smile needs the navigation of innocence of first order but this cruel world prefers intellectualism over innocence.

  Grandpa said it right, duffers like me are angels as only angels always smile. The intellectuals will make a dead face over the best of humor and say with a grave tone, ‘I beg to differ’. My dad never smiles. I have seen him laughing only once; it was when my mom divorced him and married his junior.

  My wife works in publishing industry. To be very honest, she asked me to write my biography and even assured me that she would push it through to the bookstores. She has advised me to ‘make it fully loaded’. ‘If you can rake in un-patterned madness and patterned sex in your book, you may even find a publisher yourself; otherwise I am here for you’, she has told me. She is only three years older to me but always bosses on me. I am not sure what she means and what I can rake in. But I am not stuck, I move ahead.

  II

  I am very reluctant to say all this but he made me do it. I cannot talk about my patients and reveal facts about them. However, he insisted that I had to write a chapter in his biography because of two reasons – first, his wife asked him to make his biography different and second, he believes, I am the most eligible person to write about him as he has spent the most time with me after his grandpa. Had his grandpa been alive, he would have written it all but now I have to do it.

  He is right. After the age of ten, when he was first brought to me for treatment and counseling, he has spent hours with me. He has been in all sorts of trouble and his parents felt, he needed psychological help to have a semblance of a normal life. I must accept, I have earned a fortune from his parents for hours of counseling and treatment I have done for him as my patient. He accepts me as his most trusted friend. He has assured me that he would ensure my anonymity. I seek apology for doing it but I cannot say no to this marvelous duffer.

  The only thing he has done well before time is what he cannot take credit for. He was born almost three months before time. There was little hope for his survival but then; his grandfather was probably right in saying, ‘goodness must come early and should always go late’. This adorable duffer really has come with multiple lives; he has survived thrice. However, he is not born with multiple abilities. That is probably why he smiles all the time. His singular possession of innocence has loaded him with an ability, which most multi-ability persons do not have or they squander it. His innocent humor has the magic of purity God labors to preserve.

  His mother was actually very happy that she would get rid of her pregnancy three months early when the doctor, a friend of mine told her that the baby was not growing in her womb and she would need to go under the knife. He was virtually created in the incubator and till the age of 12, he had to undergo innumerable small and big operations to make him a livable human. However, we doctors created and shaped only his body parts. He was born with a date with life and packaged with a zeal for it, which made him go through all his troubles with a smile, which is this duffer’s signature on life. I also must admit, we doctors only undid, which his parents consciously and unconsciously did to him. However, what made him is something, he was born with and what his brilliant grandpa very carefully chiseled out of him.

  I am bound by my professional ethics not to reveal anything about the treatment and physical status of my patients. That is why I shall stick here to his personality and uniqueness of character. What I shall tell will be a friend telling about his dear friend, though I am more than his father’s age. He has given me the liberty and I truly wish to use this opportunity to tell things, as a common human being, which I could not as a doctor.

  The first thing I wish to say is about the idea of abnormal and disorder. This boy was brought to me at the age of ten with his parents seriously complaining about he being abnormal and having disorders. All over the world, people are paying and psychologists are raking up fortunes treating people for abnormalities and disorders. The weird and somehow stupid element of rigidity about normal and orderly in our culture is landing so many people over the fence and they find themselves on our doors. I need to talk about it then only his readers can decide whether he is a duffer or what! Also, they can then decide who is actual duffer.

  Let us first put the straight question – what is ‘order, or ‘orderly’? What precisely is the criterion of the term order? Technically, an order is a condition of logical-methodical or comprehensible-prescribed arrangement, the established system of social organization, a sequence or arrangement of successive things, a customary procedure, an authoritative sanction of a prescribed model, etc.

  In simple words, it is easily decipherable to anyone that definitions of ‘order’ are expressly collective, societal and authoritative. Order and consequently, disorder shall also remain an interpretation of the collective will of a contemporary society and culture; that too at a point of time and keeps changing.

  To make it clear; disorder is essentially a cultural benchmark, mostly enjoying the authoritative sanction. An individual positioning, as often, may stand in complete or partial contrast with the established norms and benchmarks of ‘order’ and lead to a stand which may sound like a ‘disorder’ but only by the established societal pathology. An individual might always say, ‘he is right and in perfect order!

  An extreme of this may be an individual, or a small collective labeling the benchmark of order of the authoritative collectivity as a ‘disorder’ itself. It is already happening globally, as newer generations are reluctant to go by established norms of order. The technology is helping their flight of fancy and every day, new trends are emerging, which challenge established orders. It has always happened in the past too but in very small measures. It is so strange. At a time, when the fine line between normal and deviant has almost lost its existence, it is somehow a misnomer to accept the age-old benchmarks of a person, whom we can accept as psychologically a perfectly poised and normal thing.

  All rational people in this world have always respected and even welcomed individual perspectives. Revolutions, which bring about refreshing changes in societal-political order, have always germinated from individual initiatives or from a small collectivity, which initially were butchered by the established order. All defini
tions of ‘order’ and ‘disorder’ are bordering beyond what may be termed as authoritative. What authoritatively is ‘orderly’, may well be a ‘disorder’ in popular perception and the vice-versa. Old benchmarks of authoritative and societal-cultural order and pattern are in for a toss. The new benchmarks of ‘order’ are more on the wrong side of popular perceptions. It is truly difficult to say what should ideally be the ‘order’ of the day!

  The word ‘disorder’ is a generalization, which is less specific than the term ‘problem’ but often labeled as if it were a trouble. There are psychologists who are campaigning for acceptance of the word ‘Mind Issues’, instead of the term mind disorders. Certain mind positioning may not be problem for others but may not be conducive to long-term mental health of the individual, in the contemporary socio-cultural milieu he or she lives. Therefore, psychologists wish to make a larger perspective of widest possible mind issues.

  What I mean to say in easy sounding words is, we humans are essentially culturally inclined minds. There is a straight line drawn for all of us and we all are expected to follow it. Anyone, expecting to experiment willfully or wavering away from the line because of some other idea or attitude is a sure case for a psychologist. The terms normal and order are very much cultural perceptions and they keep changing. Therefore, the idea and benchmarks of normal and order also get altered with time and space. In a contemporary culture of instant-self-gratification and cult of trigger-happy consumption and fun, a teenage boy or girl talking of purity and virginity is promptly labeled abnormal. A few decades back, the reverse was abnormality. A young boy keeping away from girls and showing little joy in wild sexual and other adventurisms of modernist culture is taken to a psychologist by parents. Few decades back it was essential character need for a good boy. Few years back, psychologists would do counseling for people who had, what their closed ones labeled as abnormal sexual orientation. Now they do not come to us as larger society has now accepted them as individual choice. Every small and big benchmark of normal and abnormal is in for a toss in modern world. Already, the old label of deviant and taboo is the new style statement, especially if they come from celebrities and pop icons. As new trends shall get established in society, the new culture shall keep redefining benchmarks of normal.

  This duffer friend of mine was also brought to me again for the same reason. I found him otherwise healthy and fine. His father however confided in me, “If I had so many lovely chicks in my school days, I would have made half of them pregnant but this stupid son of mine seems allergic to them. His teachers complain of symptoms of exclusivity and withdrawal. Hope his thing is working fine!”

  I always feel, if we did not live our lives in societies and cultures, we have created for our so-called brilliance, we humans could have surely done away with hundreds of phobias and thousands of disorders. People go to the wilds and even see the animals in zoo and appreciate the stupidities and weirdness of their action-behavior. If humans do the same, it is a case for psychologists. The simple reason is; human culture has its own copycats of what animals do in wild stupidities and if someone does not follow them, he or she is bound to be labeled abnormal. You name anything a human can do with its heart on it, it becomes a syndrome and an attitude problem. Moreover, we have a culture where markets and enterprises have to sustain and make profits. That is why there is a medicine and a medical treatment for anything, which strays away from the straight line of cultural benchmarks. You have low libido, there is a drug for it. You have high libido, there is psychological help and rehabilitation programs for it. Somehow, if you are curious as what is actually the benchmark of a normal libido, experts would never give you a fixed answer, as they do not have any. They will say, “it depends, people come with different libidos and it is all about how you feel about it.”

  And how one can feel about it? You actually do not feel anything independent of the culture within you. So, you look for discussion forums on the internet. Someone boasts of 87 sex partners in the last 11 years and you feel, oh god! I am such a poor thing with only five in whole of my life! Surely, there is something wrong. You come to us and we have a living to make. Who does not love extra fortune knocking his doors! The psychologists would suggest you constant counseling and some populist practices, which shall enhance your sociability, so that you could have greater chance of getting to the marketplace benchmark of 87 sex partners! Then, there are best sellers for your special needs and help! Psychology is the most popular toy for all of us as it is highly suitable for twisting to personal attitudinal needs. People just love psychology in its new and pop star avatar and treat it as celebrity stuff. Everyone has loads of celebrity elements in their consciousness and psychology is somehow a license to all attitudes of personalized will.

  This duffer friend of mine is essentially an animal in the zoo, which his parents love to watch and feel great about. They are highly successful people and their position in the society and culture is benchmarks for others. This simple and always happy boy actually never ever had trouble with whatever he was and whatever he did or didn’t. He never complained of any trouble and awkwardness. Every time, either his father would bring him to me or his mother. They never came together for any of his so-called abnormalities and disorders. It was in his parent’s view that he needed help from me and together, we enjoyed mutual benefits. He was happy being with me, as I could understand his mind and I was happy getting the money his parents took pride in giving me. His mother used him and his ‘handicap’ as an emotional lever to get support and push from others in her career. His father proudly told people that he has a million buck son as even when he was just ten, he had spent one and a half million bucks on his treatment. This duffer showcased his money power and influence in social circuits. It was a win-win situation for all. He was happy being away from his parents, the parents were happy seeing him treated for his ‘handicaps’ and I was happy getting part of the millions.

  However, the million-dollar question is – what actually was his handicap or disorder, for which his parents were worried and they made him come to me? This need to be told in this duffer’s autobiography. He was born out of a conflict, which sealed his fate. His mother was not willing for babies. His father wanted it desperately. His colleagues had started to create jokes about his impotency as six years after the marriage; there was no ‘good news’. His mother finally agreed to one baby with a condition that she would not be bothered about its daily care. He agreed that he would personally do it. As destiny had it, he arrived much early. His mother was free of his care as doctors and nurses did it for almost a year. Later, he was thrown to the care of maids. When he was one year old, he was hailed as the most brilliant baby as he always smiled and never bothered to move out of the place where he was put. He would be left in his room peacefully for whole day and he would never bother anybody. This suited fine for his parents as they were busy with their careers; left home early morning and came late evening. His mother would dutifully spare ten minutes of her time in the evening and then he would be back to his maids. The parents were happy that their child was so good, well behaved and a true gentleman! However, this same trait, which hailed him as a good kid, became the complaint number one. He was always confined to his room, with no one ever talking to him or taking him outside to make him see the world. His grandpa once suggested that he should be occasionally sent for a month to live with him. He could see the trouble brewing up. His mother revolted against the idea and even his father did not like it. They were against the idea as his mother felt; he would pick up bad manners, wrong middle-class traditions and useless old ideas from his grandparents. He grew up a loner and was very happy with he being perfectly fine with his gadgets and toys, which were crammed in his room.

  The trouble started when teachers complained that he did not speak to his classmates and did not pay attention to whatever was going on in the classroom. He always remained talking to himself silently and as the talk inside was what he was happy with and enjoyed, he fe
lt no need to talk to anyone else and get involved in anything outside.

  His first nomenclature of duffer came from his class teacher, who thought, kids are born to learn whatever teachers ask them to. His persistent refusal to fall in line with the teacher’s ways made the teacher shoot off a long complaint in his diary. He was finally fetched to me at the age of ten, when his parents too felt; he was beyond their marvelous intelligence, which made them successful. They accepted the label of duffer and added the label of ‘abnormal’ and ‘disordered’ on him and dutifully handed him over to me.

  It is somehow strange. Old wisdom says and even today, all wise people admit that it takes a whole society to make a child and grow him as a good person. Evolution is one such remarkable history of humanity and its struggle to create a milieu, which ensured excellence to individual in a collective space of society. The cultures were designed to suit this individual growth, which could in turn engender collective utility.

  However, modern contemporary culture has evolved an ideal, where it is accepted that a child is parent’s sole responsibility and nobody else has any role in it. Finally, it is now restricted to one single woman, who has to grow the child completely on her own. The parents believe, growing is a natural and automatic function. Even weeds and a silly plant grow in a small pot! Like a plant in the pot, they think, a child shall automatically grow well if it is regularly given water. They pump in all resources and think; the child shall grow out of his or her own energies. If it does not, there are schools to do it. The schools too have become smart. They do not throw it back to parents as they charge huge amounts from them to make their kids cultured. They now have their own psychologists and counselors. In any case, they finally land with us with the expectation that we have a magic potion and a wand, which can settle everything. It is somehow true about all doctors. People do all sorts of stupidities with their body and then land at a doctor, expecting he or she would make them back in perfect shape.

  It is so strange that now, the belief has come to be accepted that the state knows it better than parents and society as how to raise a child. There are rules for parents and state is on the vigil to crack its whip on erring parents. The parents do not have the time and inclination to enrage the state power and it is only convenient for them to send their ‘abnormal’ kids to us. We actually get moneys to save them from society as well as the state. This arrangement is fine with contemporary culture. People have loads of money, they do not however have any time for anything other than their own personal attainments and gratifications. The markets and pop culture keep telling them that money can buy anything and if it cannot buy that thing, it is not worth a penny.

  If you ask me, what is wrong with my dear friend, I would say, it is almost impossible to say. Most part of his troubles is actually cultural. Medically too, it is difficult to say, what his troubles are as medical science is still not sure about brain functioning. His troubles may well be in-built, because of his troubled birth or may be; most part of it, his environments cultivated and cultured in him. His brain does not seem to respond to emotions and ideas in motor-action terms. A usual brain is instinctively action-reaction mechanism. It responds to a stimulus in action terms, enabling the nerves controlling the motor muscles to act. He never reacts to anything promptly. The second important thing is, there seems to be little culture in him. May be part of his brain has not grown the way it does in ‘normal’ people. His brain processing is very simple and he takes ideas very much in terms of their face value. He does not involve the emotional conflicts in anything. He does not admit any cultural practice in his decision-making. His thinking and emotions are very linear and deep. His decision-making has loads of his grandpa in them. His grandpa instilled in him a sense of right and wrong. He usually associates all his decisions as per the benchmarks decided by his grandpa. If he has to decide something on his own, he just looks at the element of comfort in it. He does not like sex, as it is not a comfortable thing in his decision-making matrix. To him, it involves a lot of uncomfortable action. He enjoys love and intimacy. He loves hugging you and remains hugged. He loves to talk and laugh for hours. His grandpa also has lot to do with his choices. He told him, “all joys, which you create just being you and not involving others for its utility are the real joys. If this creation extends utility to others, it is the test that your joys are good and worthy.” He accepts only those things as true, which his grandpa said.

  III

  Well, before I tell you more about my life, I must tell you that whatever my dear doctor friend has told you earlier are more of a friend’s words for me than a psychologist’s. I have no problem accepting that I am not normal and have disorders. It is not good to label a whole bunch of people and your society wrong to show yourself as right. It is wrong to stand your so-called virtues on the pedestal of vices of society. My grandpa had told me once, “It does not take someone to be wrong for other to be right. People can be right in their own right and a good society is one, which respects all rights and is compassionate to all wrongs.”

  I understand, I cannot complain about others not being compassionate about my wrongs. However, my grandpa made me believe that my joy is what I can create for myself, not depending on others for its utility and goodness. I am happy being open and compassionate about others’ wrongs. I may not get the space for my own rights in others’ domain, but it does not affect my joys. I am very happy. I am happy I have people who give me this space. My grandpa, my doctor friend, my very intelligent wife and my equally intelligent dog; they all are my wellness support system.

  Now, I intend to tell you things, which is actually my wife’s insistence that I must. She has asked me to rake up things, which are different so that readers could like it. I surely cannot put in un-patterned madness, as she suggested but I can surely tell you what I really feel differently. If you like it, my wife shall be happy. After all, she is the last to read it all and put in her words as the last chapter. She decides, if it is good enough to get through to markets.

  Now that I am 23, and I can assure you that I have started to understand that, whether it is a monkey, a lion, a small insect or human being; every single organism has to act and behave in a way, which is appropriate for all of them in a species and the physical milieu they live. It is not that only humans stick to their own cultural benchmarks. All species do it. That is why I accept that I am expected to be like all those, who happily, unhappily or unconsciously become merged to culturally defined rights and wrongs. I am a grown up man now; I have started to learn culture and actually, I have read so much stuff on culture on the net. Still, I must confess, I am hugely inconvenienced and awkward when I find myself doing things the cultured way.

  You know, my grandpa bought comic books for me when I was a kid. He gave me comics of animals and their stories. I instantly fell in love with animals and their way of life. Later, when I grew up, I got addicted to Animal Planet channel on television. I learnt a very stupid thing from animals and I have accepted it as my core prudence. If you minus the hours of painful and tough time the animals, big and small have to work for their survival, you shall find that they are very peacefully lazy and leisure-preferring things like me. I never had to work for my food and that is why I believe, I have no reason to be in the typical action-reaction mode of life, which I see most people are. Even in animal world, there is so much strife, struggle and confusion when they compete for food and mating. Otherwise, they are always peaceful and in good humor. You should watch the babies of wild animals. They do not have to compete for food and mating and you can see, how beautifully lovable their action-behavior is. Even a lion’s baby is so cute and lovable. However, when he grows up and has to feed for himself and have his family, he becomes a nasty and brute beast.

  When I grew up, I could see that people are also in same strife, struggle and conundrum when they are in the competitive culture over food and mating. Of course, this food is just notional. It is just food for animals but for humans, this food
is a broad emotion of survival, which unconsciously takes the shape of personal excellence and exclusivity. It is so silly that humans are such a scared and insecure lot. They are so good at labeling everything as question of either their false pride or fake sense of survival.

  Actually, it is where I hate culture. This fakeness and falsehood, which we humans so intelligently imbibe and in turn pump in into our culture is something unique in all species of the universe. You must believe me. It is not that I am a duffer and I say only insane things. I have my credentials on it. I have watched the maximum hours of Animal Planet channel and searched most pages on internet over animals and their world than anyone who is 23 years old.

  My grandpa told me a very interesting thing. Now that I am 23 years old and started to understand what culture is and how things work in this world, I can now interpret what my grandpa wished me to learn and live my life as. He told me, “all greats of humanity had singular attainment, which made them greats. They never counted themselves in any situation and even when they had to do so, they counted themselves as the last one. This is something not amenable for intelligence but to innocence only.”

  I am not sure what he actually meant but what I can take of it is that I do not need to put myself in the center of any picture of life and situations of living realities. The simple idea is, you actually never think of yourself as something different from the rest of the crowd. This situation is so very typical of animals. I can relate with them. They do not think of themselves as anything different and special. They all look alike, behave like one common entity and live together in herds as if they are one single pack of things. Have you seen the wildebeests or gazelles in the wild? I have watched them hundreds of times on television. They move together, graze together and live together. They all look the same and when it is time, every one of the thousands of them move like one pack towards places in complete unison.

  You cannot see this happen to humans. The humans do not look the same and are not actually the same. They all are different not only in their looks but also in action and behavior. They count themselves as someone and that too a special one, different from other humans. And they foolishly pride this distinction. They do not live together, do not move, work and eat together in perfect unison, as they can never agree to each other and accept themselves as one single pack. Animals do not count themselves as different and special. That is why they can agree to singular action and behavior.

  Therefore, it is my conclusion and I have to come to it as my grandpa is no more with me to correct me; this whole greatness is about being like animals. Essentially, once you are born as a human being, you have to strive to become like animals and you attain greatness. This you do by not being intelligent like other humans but simply being innocent like animals. Once you do it, the next stage is to become compassionate and rise a step ahead of animals by being kind to other species too. This animal thing is good, till they start killing others for food. As a human, we are superior to them and that is why we cannot kill and pain our species and others. This makes you great. I am 23 and I do understand many things now but I am not sure what this greatness fetches to you. I am a duffer so I am not sure this is the right answer but I genuinely feel that this thing, which my grandpa referred to as greatness, is actually a very happy situation. I feel so happy being true and innocent like animals and this makes me share my smiles with others.

  I have a living proof in my bedroom. This brilliant dog I have; this animal is very much like what my grandpa suggested I should be. I am not truly like him but I am closely watching him every day to learn things from him. You throw away a bread to him and if he is hungry, he shall rise up and eat it peacefully. However, if he is not hungry, give him his food with all sorts of pampering but he won’t eat. This is what grandpa said about not counting yourself. This dog does not bother about how you give him food. Whether you throw it at him or give it with loads of hugging and patting, he hardly cares. It is surely up to his actual hunger. Humans are not like that. I am also not like him. I count the attitude and behaviors for me. I cannot accept a food if it is thrown at me. I am not as innocent as this dog is. If I were a great, it should not count. People count themselves as someone above their needs and then things lead to strife, conflict and confusion. I have learnt it from him and I am practicing the art painfully. I do not count myself when people say bad things about me. I stick to my simple needs. My grandpa said it very right. He told me, “innocence shall always land you to your actual needs but intelligence would drag you to vast ocean of wants.”

  This dog, like all other animals was actually innocent but now he is also picking up culture of we humans. As I watch him closely, I have seen that he is getting closer to my wife and sometimes even ignoring me. All humans become crazy when they see a girl and this dog is getting to that. May be I am wrong. May be, he is more inclined to her because she often sprays her fabulous deodorant on him. I think, I should not count that. I know, my grandpa wanted me to be great. I cannot do anything, which he believed I should not.

  I do not have much to say about my worldview and me, which could interest anyone. However, I really wish to tell you about my grandpa because, I am what I am today, because of him. He had called me a day before his death and he wanted me to make a promise to him. I told him, I would never fail him and my promise to him. He wanted me to promise that I would begin where he ended. You may find it stupid but I shall elaborate to tell you what he wished. Before that, I must tell you, I am doing what I promised.

  In the Animal Planet channel, I have watched the evolution processes of animals and I think, it is what humans need to follow. They however don’t. My grandpa told me, he lived for 70 years and only in the last 20 years of his life, he could understand what life actually meant and how one could live his or her life well. What he meant to say is, everyone has to go through a process of his personal evolution to understand life and decipher its nuances. This takes most of his or her life. He told me about a great man saying, “most part of our lives, we spend preparing for it. Most do not actually get ready for life, only a few are lucky to live their lives with perfect readiness.”

  In simple words, he wanted me not to waste my life preparing for it as I could simply start living it, accepting my grandpa’s years of labor and painful preparations as his legacy to me. I just needed to accept his attainments as my own possession at the very start of my life and then build on it. I accepted his words and I am surely building on my life over what he left for me as my strong platform.

  It is something, animals do instinctively but humans never do. Animals have this prudence to ensure that every mother of the group deliver their babies almost at one time. Within a week, thousands of wildebeest and gazelle babies are born. They have so much fun together and the entire herd of thousands of parents cares for them as they are always around them. The kids pick up what the adults have already learnt through painful experiences. They simply ape their adults and become experienced within days. Humans do not do it this way and I think that is why they are in huge trouble. Their babies are therefore lonely and have to live alone in a room. Their parents are never around them. Humans do not live in herds like animals. They live in apartments and colonies but they never meet each other. Their kids are born if different times and that is why kids do not have a bunch of them to play with each other. They cannot ape anyone, as there is almost no one around who could make them learn automatically. The human kids have maids who come in timely, provide you food and wash your dirty ass. They themselves know nothing and if a kid apes them, their parents kick the maids out. And suddenly, when the kid becomes six years old, he is sent to a school where the kid is expected to learn everything in half-hour classes. I wonder; if a lion’s baby is sent to a school to learn in half an hour how to dissect the belly of a Zebra after his father kills it; he shall come out as big a duffer as me. It is something he learns within a week of his birth, by simply aping the mother or father doing it. I learnt this art of aping
my grandpa successfully as I knew, he was always right. The biggest proof of his righteousness was that he was never ever angry and violent, like my parents, who always found fault in me and turned violently angry over me. I know, you will say that I am a duffer and I cannot understand life well. Still, I need to tell you that if you are angry over anything, you are likely to be wrong. Even when you are right, you lose your right to rightness when you become angry. My grandpa made me learn this simple fact. I am never angry and always smiling, even when I know, I am a duffer and can do loads of wrong. I am also not angry when people wrong me and smile at me. This I do because I do not count myself.

  My grandpa made me learn a very simple thing, which I have accepted as the strong platform, on which I have to build up my life. My wife also agrees on that and has assured me that she can handle anything else, which falls outside my conviction, when I am up with life and its troubles. I trust her, she is brilliant and a true contemporary woman. I relish and evolve when I am in leisure and quiet. She relishes and is at her best when she is handed a fight with the world around her. She loves to be a warrior and I am happy to handover my reigns to her. This suits me, as I have great liking for what animals do. I think you know how a lion is relaxing or sleeping sixteen hours a day while his wife, the lioness works the same 16 hours chasing prey for the survival of her pride. The only difference is, I have told her I shall raise my kid myself and my way, when we decide for it. Mt wife is too happy with the arrangement. Also, my grandpa has given me enough money to pay for my household bills. My wife also believes I do not need to be what I do not like to be. I am happy in my home and my own world.

  The simple thing my grandpa made me learn, is something I find as self-evident, not needing any proof of truth as I have verified that it is the way things are in the animal world. As the human world does not have things this way, they are in perpetual crisis and confusion. I caution you, what I am saying is a duffer’s perspective and it is not something you shall find as culturally right and acceptable. It is my biography and that is why I have the rights to say it. If you do not like it, you always have your turn when you write your own.

  My grandpa told me that all situations of life and all disposition of one’s own mind would always open two doors for anyone. The first door is of pain and suffering and other door leads you away from them. It is an individual’s choice which door he or she opens and enters. The mind and its disposition would find itself in different situations throughout the lives and this one cannot control. What is for an individual to choose is his or her insistence on entering that door, which leads him or her way from pain and sufferings. It then takes the brilliance of imagination of the person to create joy out of the situations of life.

  He told me that mind disposition could be in five different states –

  First, it can accept what one sees, visualizes and listens as right and true.

  Second, it can understand and accept just opposite and reverse to what is right and true.

  Third, it can accept an imagination and visualization as true and right, which shall be different from reality and actuality.

  Fourth, it can accept and understand that there is nothing to be understood and realized.

  Fifth and last, it can accept as true and right, what it has acquired as life experience.

  All five situations can lead one to the twin doors of pain and joy respectively. My grandpa told me that I should never react to any of life situations or positioning of mind disposition even when at times it may seem a prudent and right thing to do. This reaction business is only for animals and it works for them because they have a single mind disposition, unlike humans who have five. He told me to wait and watch patiently and keep away from the instinctive habit of judging and rushing to conclusions of mind. He asked me to let a situation settle down. Take the idea home and sit over it. With a calm mind, assess all five different possibilities of my mind disposition. Make sure that a life situation is assessed and valued from all five dimensions of mind disposition so that no single disposition could weigh more on the scale of decision-making. And then, choose an option and decision, which leads to long-term peace and joys of not only self but of larger section of people around me.

  I am telling you all this because I have benefitted immensely from his advice. I was also a reaction-person. A life situation would present itself and I would jump to a conclusion and take a decision. This led me to loads of trouble. I did unimaginable stupidities in my life. When my grandpa made me learn this simple magic of life, I could see that this stupidity, which I did, was something most people did in their lives. If my dad would say that it was cold out there, my mother would immediately contradict and say, it is actually not something, which one could term as cold. For my mom and dad, there never was a reality, which they could see independent of their hatred for each other. Their minds were conditioned, as my grandpa told me about mind dispositions, people are in. I see it happening all around me. People are in different shades of their mind disposition. If you scan their behaviors, you can see how they are predominantly in any one of the above-mentioned five shades of mind disposition. This always leads them to a judgment, which is away from truth and reality. I am 23 now and I have begun to understand bit of politics, culture and markets. Everywhere, people clash and conflict with each other as they are in different mind dispositions and it is only natural that they see the reality differently. This is typical in humans; animals do not have this problem. Their trouble is that they are also very much reactive like humans. This is the only difference I admit I have to keep away from.

  This dog of mine, which is otherwise so intelligent, will start barking stupidly when the doorbell rings. He does not feel the need to check his mouth and wait to see if there is someone known or unknown on the door. This stupid is always on a reactive mode and instinctively barks. This is not something I can do. My grandpa warned me against this. If I were a dog, I would believe in my strength, wait a while, walk up to the door and see, whether it is my wife or someone else. Why should I bark at my wife? I would preserve my energies and bark only at strangers. This stupid dog is not like me; he is a reactive fool. He knows only one thing. If there is a sound, he shall bark. Humans also do the same. They think later, act first instinctively. My mom would instinctively start abusing dad if anything goes wrong in the household. Like my stupid dog, she instinctively reacts and barks, not bothering to differentiate between a known face and a stranger.

  You know, actually, it is such a huge advantage to be a duffer. People do not expect a duffer to react. Now that I am 23, I have seen so much of life and now that my grandpa is no more, I have taken on, where he left. He was cool, calm and never reactive. I have picked up from him. I almost feel like grandpa. I have brought grandpa’s large reclining chair to my living room and I spend hours on that swinging up and down. I have decided to give myself a time lag of 24 hours. When I sit on this chair, I pick up thoughts and situations of previous day and mull over them. I make sure that my dog is snoozing around me. He is my reminder that I have to be more like him and my grandpa’s chair ensures that I never go beyond his ideas. I have started where he left and now I am on my slow and relaxed journey of life.

  Now I leave you with my wife. She has agreed to write the last chapter of my biography with a condition that she would write it and not show me back. So, I am happy and relaxed now. It is up to her to decide, whether I did a good work or not. My grandpa had told me to count only those as joys, which I can create and control. Like writers, I am not bothered about my book’s success as it depends on others. My joy is in writing it and I feel happy that I made my wife happy. She wished me to write it. Thank you.

  IV

  I am busy as hell; still I have to write this. I am not a writer. I am just a literary agent and I have a rather easy task to do. The writers take all the trouble and I just have to find out why they cannot make it to the markets. Finding fault with anything and anyone is so easy. We all always know how to figure out
issues to take them as causes for failure. I even do not have to do this. I simply say, I pass. It is always better not to risk a success. And I can tell you, in today’s precarious markets and public mood, everything is a risk, if it is not backed by a brand power. Nobody buys costly tickets to a multiplex for a movie, which does not have a super star in it. Nobody buys a book if it is not already in bestseller list with loads of reviews. Moneys are precious and they are better positioned when placed on a winning horse in the race. Success is expensive and worshipped only because they come rarely and when loads of factors get pulled in at one singularity, by luck or by masterly orchestration.

  I asked my dear husband to write his biography to make him feel connected to things around him. I am writing this to make him happy. He is my hero but I do not see him of any worth to people. I am not a writer and that is why, when I am required to tell you about my husband, I shall give you plain and simple words. It is a fact that I know most things about him because we have been together for over 20 years. Our fathers were business partners for 15 years and he visited us since he was three and I was six.

  We lived as neighbors and he would be left in my care, whenever our parents came together for dinner or weekend outings. He was a calm kid and I was a tornado. He would always be with me and smile whenever I would do a silly thing. He would never share it with my parents or his. Very early, I could know that he was a keen observer. He became my good friend when my first boyfriend dumped me. I was 13 and my boyfriend was a 19-year-old stupid, whom I later discovered was on a spree to make a record of sorts by kissing more girls than his friends in his group. I was so upset and my future husband observed it. By then, his parents had already declared him a duffer and he had started seeing the psychologist.

  My sweet duffer has his own way of doing things. He saw me in bad mood and went away. An hour later, he came to me with chips, bottle of soft drinks and a piece of paper. He silently placed them near me and went away. Later, when I read the paper, there was a sorry written on it and signed by my boyfriend. I called him and asked him about the sorry thing and he calmly told me that he knew the guy and his home. So he went to his house and told him that a good boy should never hurt a girl. He asked the boy to write a sorry and he did it for me. He also stupidly told me that he gave him his new mobile phone to get a sorry from him.

  He is not normal and I truly love him for that. I have seen enough of normal people in my life and I am so happy and proud that he is my dear husband. I am not saying that all husbands should be like that; but surely, I find him best for me. It is tough life for all of us. The world you live puts you in a perpetual drift. The normal life, household issues, jobs, the markets, society and culture; everything is so replete with fakeness and fudged realisms. There is little option for you. You have to be deep into it to survive and excel. Success in contemporary world is very high priced, as it takes away a lot from your life. It lands you in an uprooted consciousness. This is especially true for women today. They have to make a mark in this tough world and that is why, they are in infinite battle with society, markets and culture. In such a world, you can be lucky if you have a husband like mine. He is very rooted and completely out of sync with contemporary culture and society. He lives in his own made world and smiles all the time. He is my pillar, my beautifully profitable wellness support system.

  After I married him, I got sure that every woman should have a husband at least ten years older to her. A husband has to be your wellness milieu after you come home to sanity and serenity. My husband is actually three years younger to me but mentally, he is 60. He says, he has taken over from his dear grandpa and at 23, he needs to be at 70. He is ideally suited to my needs and my personality. I am a drifter and he is like old and rusted anchor on the sea. The whole world can crash on his feet but he is unaffected and still hugely settled. Death is his dear friend. He has been so close to death so many times that no fatality or fear can now touch him. I really love his anchored worldview and outlook towards life.

  What a wife wants from a husband? I do not know and surely cannot say for others but I can tell you what I want. When I am back home, after a grueling day at work, braving the troubles of life, he is there for me. I do not even have to press the doorbell. I cannot tell you in words, how brilliantly satisfying is the feeling that never ever in my married life, I had to come home and pull out my keys from my bag to enter an empty house, with no one saying, how are you. For years, I would come back from school and college to find the door of my house locked and use my keys to open it. My parents would be away and there would be stale food waiting for me in the fridge. I hated the microwave and my husband has never insisted on buying it in our household.

  When we are in bed, he would always ask me how I was feeling. If I am not in good mood or otherwise unsettled, he would start treating me like a kid and do all sorts of beautifully silly things to make me comfortable and get me to sleep. It is something, people may label as ‘abnormal’ and probably why he is called a duffer. The fact remains that this is something I consider best about him. He never counts himself. He always counts others. His first instinct is to look for what other person might be feeling or what other person might be going through. He has brilliant sixth sense of deep observance. Someday, even when I am not in good shape but still kiss him in the bed to make sure he is not bothered about me; he would sense that. I have had many boyfriends and I have kissed so many men but nobody had the sensitivity of a woman, my duffer husband has. This stupid can smell your intent and inner state of mind like a dog. God knows whether he learnt it from his dog or what!

  What else a wife can want from her husband. If you know, you have a person with you in your bed, who does not fake himself and who knows you as good as yourself; you are relaxed and feel secure, assured and relaxed to be naked. It is such a relaxed feeling of wellness to know, there is this duffer close to you, to whom you have safely and profitably surrendered all fears and troubles of your heart and mind. He knows every bit of my troubled past, my misadventures with my life and my current life struggles. As I sleep hugged to him in night, I am happily sure, his special mind is scanning every heartbeat of mine to know anything, which I may never myself understand and accept.

  I however have to be cautious about what I tell him. As he never counts himself, you have to be very careful about what you say to him. There is a way to get things done from him. As we have been together since long, I know him and he knows me inside out. If you ask him that he should shave, as he would look good, you can be sure he would never do it. He does not count himself. You have to say to him, ‘get a shave as I want to tell it to the world that how happy I am to have such a beautiful hubby like him.’ He would immediately move to bathroom and come out shaved within minutes. There has to be a factor of other’s joy in it for him to accept a worth and utility in doing anything. You do not and cannot give him joys; he has his auto mechanism to get it without your help. He would love his leisure and comfort, if there is nothing, which he has to do for other’s joys and wellness.

  You have to be cautious about it. He does not think twice doing anything for others. This almost killed him first time he attempted suicide. He was 12 and his parents had a huge fight. His father told her mother to give him divorce and his mother said in a fit of anger that she would have been the happiest giving it to him had there not been this small stupid between them. She said she had to bear a huge nonsense of trouble like him only because there is a duffer breathing between them. This duffer was calmly listening to all this and his stupid genius could decipher that he was the cause of her mother being unhappy and in trouble. He searched Google for easy way to kill oneself and then gulped the toilet cleaner. Poor thing could not hide it as his noisy vomiting alerted his parents. He does not count himself and that is why, if there is something, he thinks is there for him to do, he shall do it.

  For me, this has been a boon. I got him as my husband because of this. Last year, I was shattered and felt very low. I was in a stead
y relationship for two years and this guy I found cheating on me. When I queried him on that, he openly admitted it and told me that everyone had the right to experiment till one gets the right person to settle with. For him, I was only one of the many he was experimenting with. He also told me to be a good sport and continue with it to give time to each other. I am not sure, whether I reacted the way I should have but surely, I felt bad and violated. This is something, you can call hypocrisy but I could not handle it. If this word is something, which we can accept, I too have been experimenting with guys. I have had four boyfriends and I was intimate with all of them. Two left me and I dumped the other two. So, it was a level score. But, the last one I could not handle, as I was probably ahead than my boyfriend in life plans. I realized my hypocrisy and I was hugely upset. This beautiful duffer knew everything and he silently remained all the time with me, when I was feeling low and was confined to my room.

  One day, he came to me, handed me a large chocolate bar and waited beside me for a while. As I did not say anything to him, he asked me, “what I can do to make you happy again?” I was irritated and not in a mood to handle his crap. I shot back, “what the hell you can do, can’t you see that the person with whom I wanted to be happy is happy with other girl?” This duffer has his own sensitivities and his strange sense of judgment. He thought for a while and said, “does this mean that your boyfriend shall be sad like you when you are happy with other guy?” I could not figure out what he meant. He looked at me and said very calmly and sincerely, “He is happy because he is not with you but with other girl. If this is the way, you too can be happy once again if you are not with him but other guy. If that is the rule of the game, I think, you can take me to him and there you can kiss me to show that you are with other guy and then surely, you shall be happy.”

  I looked at him. I may be a drifting fool but I am also a woman. I looked in his eyes and could see that what his brain could think of a quick solution to my current trouble was actually a lifetime opportunity for me to be happy and satisfied. I kissed this duffer for first time in my life. He is such a big stupid; he did not kiss me back. He instead put the chocolate in my mouth. He then turned to get his car to go to the boy’s house and do it there. This duffer counts the utility of things his own way. He thought the kiss I planted on his lips was surely a practice as how I would be expected to do when I shall go with him to my boyfriend and do it in front of him. I pulled him, hugged him tight and kissed him like a mad girl. Only after ten minutes, he could realize that it was something different from what he was thinking. He asked me softly, “if you are happy now, I can make a sandwich for you. I know, people are sad when they are empty stomach.”

  It took me less than 24 hours to decide, I am marrying this duffer. It however took me another 24 hours to decide on my lines, which I would need to tell him to agree to marrying me without telling his or my parents. I knew, I would need to tell him that marrying him would make me happiest and as I wanted to be happy without any delay, we must marry the same day. As I was expecting, he listened to me carefully and then turned towards the door, without any expressions on his face, telling me that he would be back by evening after arranging a house and necessary utensils for the new household. Late in the evening, he looked very troubled telling me that in such short notice, he could find a house but it had no balcony. He was apologetic but kept assuring me that he would find a better house within days.

  You know, actually, it is never a man’s problem, what he should be like. If you ask me, men are essentially a confused lot just because we women are never sure how they should be like. How you would like your dad to be? What you expect your mom, your brother or for that matter, anyone in this world to be? The simple answer is; any person should be a good human being. It is as simple as this. But women have bizarre benchmarks for their husbands. They want rich husbands, smart husbands, humorous husbands, presentable husbands, tall-dark-handsome husbands, witty, famous and flamboyant husbands and so on. I think, all women just need simple and good husbands and my sweet duffer is just that. I do not expect him to be anyway different. He too does not want me anyway different. Just being affectionate and compassionate about each other in any relationship does wonders and this is also true with wife and husband. My duffer is very much this way. Why should I want him to be like what most women want their husbands to be!

  It is surely not my biography still, I cannot resist to say this, that essentially, almost all men and women; from the bottom of their hearts, want a stupidly simple and duffer life partner. In intimate personal relationship, we never need the energy of intelligence. We just need simplicity and innocence. It is essentially an intelligent idea to extend the utility of intelligence in personal relationships, because we all unconsciously see this intelligence fetching success to us in business and societal relationships. I do not subscribe to this idea. I do not want my home to be like my office and markets. My home is where I am relaxed and assured. I do not wish to fetch in the fakeness, brutal competitiveness and inventively fabricated milieu in my home. My loving duffer ensures that this I have in my home. Everything about my stupid husband is real and innocently honest.

  That is why I like him being at home and never venture into this sham world of corporate and markets. His grandpa bequeathed all his property to him and it is more than enough for us to have a simple but stable living. I just ensured that he invested it in right places. Actually, this duffer is not a duffer with his finances. Moreover, even as his father and mother are damn angry with him for marrying me as my dad is no more his partner; they shall ultimately pass on their fortune to this stupid. My husband tells me, “their money shall finally come to us as they do not have the heart to give to any charity or others.” I think he is right. Even if he did not have money, I would never have asked him to go and work outside. Actually, he already adds good monetary value to household by staying home. I had read a researched survey somewhere that if a woman works outside, she earns less than she could save if she stays home. My duffer husband surely saves loads of money by staying home. Moreover, the precious home milieu he creates and manages for me is priceless.

  There are billionaires in this world who can stay in seven star hotels and in the islands of their own for life but they still come back home and love to spend their nights at home. I am no billionaire but surely, my duffer husband has a home for me, which I value more than any heaven in the world. The moment I enter my home, I instantly feel the air of simplicity and innocence, which this duffer has in loads in his heart and mind. Even his intelligent dog has taken on him and pampers me like him.

  Finally, before I end my writing, I wish to tell you something, which I am not sure I should tell you all or not. Still, I tell you because I liked this idea. If you don’t like, I extend my unconditional apologies. I am not a writer and that is why I cannot tell this thing in any high-sounding terms and words. What I feel is; most people deep within wish to be like a duffer. I personally feel, it is very tiring, cumbersome and frustrating to carry my intelligence upfront all the time. I think, at the end of the day, everyone feels and accepts the utility of simplicity and innocence, because it lets you breathe peacefully and enjoy life as it comes to you. My duffer husband is able to smile always and live in peace because he accepts himself as a duffer and never counts the utility of his silly attainment in terms of what others say. I am unable to accept myself as a duffer and to me it really matters how people take me and find me as. I end my day with loads of uneasiness and conflicts. And when I come home, I realize, I am happy at home because here I can be naked – dropping my intelligence and be a duffer like him. That is why I am confident of my conclusion that everyone wants to be a duffer like my husband but they do not have the courage and conviction to be one. I too do not have this right now but every other day, I find the utility of this life positioning. May be, in a few years, as I spend more time hugged to my duffer hubby, his abnormality shall finally be transfused in me and I shall become as happy and at peace
with myself as this duffer is.

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  Accept My Gratitude

  Writing something is a daunting task as there is always a lurking apprehension of it not being in utility for some readers. I however feel at ease, because of my faith in magnanimity of readers. I am happily sure; you shall forgive if my efforts could not be up to your expectations. Thank you so much for being with me and allowing me to share with you. Wish you an empowered life; with the prosperity of the consciousness.

  Santosh Jha