Autobiography Of A Duffer by Santosh Jha (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖

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 it 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