Father’s day it was, yesterday. Not that it makes much of a difference to me anyhow, because I don’t have a father. I don’t miss him, neither do I crave for his presence. It’s an unperturbed void and most of the times out of my mind. So yesterday I was scurrying through endless social media posts about people and their perfect fathers and something struck me. It was a simple yet strange fact that, for as long as I have lived, I have never had a role model. I definitely look upto each of my family members, but as far as a role model is concerned I never had any. So yesterday, when I diverted my attention from the ‘perfect father’ posts, and started to think about an absence of role models, I realised that, it wasn’t because there was any dearth of any perfect person, it was the fact that their was a dearth of imperfect people. I have seen, people, looking upto their role models, and saying “he is a perfect role model” or “He is a perfect man, a perfect woman. You should follow in their footsteps”. It was this blinding bias towards ‘perfect’ that made me think I am better off without a role model. Essentially because I cannot stand the idea of perfect. Perfect needs no work, no improvisation, no effort. Perfect is just plain. And perfect is dull. Someone who is living a perfect life, is highly likely, in my opinion, to not have lived to his extreme potential. I want a role model, who is imperfect, who makes mistakes and does not cover that up, who takes things for granted, who wastes himself away, who takes the wrong decision, who is not afraid to try. I want a person of flesh, blood and sinew, doing things that we aren’t supposed to, and coming out of them victorious, knowledgeable and a bit wiser than before. A perfect man would not suit me, because a perfect man does know nothing about struggling. Just something I would like to share is that, my musical inspiration, might come from Schubert, the great composer. You see, each of his compositions had some fault, some glitch, small and minute though they were. And once you notice that glitch in his music,you cannot unsee it, it plays in your head, and you realise that, this is imperfect, that this is beautiful. Same goes for people. Once you notice imperfections, you notice the beauty. You notice the inspiration. That is why I want an extremely imperfect role model, because only he can teach me to strive in my extreme lows, only he can tell me where I can go wrong, in the crossroads of life. Because he has been there and he has been wrong, so he knows now what is right. I want him to teach me to fail. Fail but never give up the fight. Would a perfect man with a perfect score, know how to fail? No. This thought reminds me of so many people I have seen, so many great people who were role models, though imperfect to other’s eyes. I admit that right and wrong are extremley relative, and there are no absolutes. However I like to think that wrong is, whatever pricks the conscience. The first person coming to my mind is Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman. Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society, and also in Good Will Hunting, Morrie Schwartz in Tuesdays with Morrie, Atticus in To Kill A Mockingbird. Aureliano Buendia from A Hundred Years of Solitude. All of these people went wrong somewhere, went wrong in some decision, all of these people saw the very lows of life, and yet they unflinchingly never left self righteousness, never abandoned self confidence. Never betrayed people. That my friend is integrity, that is honesty and that is what a role model should be made of. Not a stuffed up Ken doll, diffusing perfection. Because perfection does not allow change, and equilibrium does not allow the true potential that one needs. So I never found a role model in a society too busy in covering up flaws as if they were leper patches, and trying to act perfect as if putting conscience up for an auction. I never found a role model, and I don’t think i will, any time soon.
The Ruminations of a Realist. 