Zero or Hero?

Strangely, success today is synonymous with succeeding without trying, writes Dr Saumya Balsari.

According to excerpts from a book by Simone Simmons, Princess Diana rated Prince Charles one out of ten between the sheets, and gave higher marks to others of her acquaintance - John F. Kennedy Junior supposedly got the full ten, James Hewitt, her riding instructor, nine and Oliver Hoare, an art dealer, six.

The revelations of the book may come as a surprise to desi readers, but not the methods of assessment purportedly used by the Princess. Desis are, after all, born teachers, fond of dispensing marks (and advice) to everyone and everything in or out of sight. “Full marks!” is the cry often heard as their sign of approval. Conversely, desis are quick to privately rebuke their own children as in, “Pappu, you are a zero at maths!”

For desis, there is no half-way house of achievement such as “one out of ten”. In any case, a mark of one is an euphemism for zero. What is one out of ten? Almost nothing, therefore it is as good as nothing. What did French President Chirac say about Britain? "You can't trust people who cook as badly as that. After Finland, it's the country with the worst food." That is clearly a score of one out of ten for the UK. Incidentally, there’s no fun at all in trying to guess who Chirac thinks should get ten out of ten.

Desis only recognise the two extremes of zero, or ten out of ten. In other words – either utter failure, or resounding success. Zero or hero. There’s nothing in between. No desi would ever repeat Samuel Beckett’s words, “Go on failing. Go on. Only next time, try to fail better.” Nor would he/she tell Pappu in the words of W.C. Fields, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.”

A desi is more inclined to agree with Oscar Wilde that “Success is a science; if you have the conditions, you get the result.” That’s why Dimple’s After-School Maths Tutoring Classes are such a good idea for a five-year-old. Catch them early, catch them young, the early bird gets the only worm there is, take the bird in hand, because there are none at all in the bush, as the bush has disappeared to be replaced by a concrete wall of competition.

In the old days, desi parents beamed when their offspring announced they were going to be doctors and engineers. Strangely, success today is synonymous with succeeding without trying. That’s why Pappu would rather be a celebrity - A, B, C-list, it really doesn’t matter - when he grows up. Full marks to him. Ten out of ten.

(Saumya Balsari is the author of the comic novel 'The Cambridge Curry Club', and wrote a play for Kali Theatre Company's Futures last year. She has worked as a freelance journalist in London, and is currently writing a second novel.)