Got an Idea!

Chill

Let me begin this one with some masala. Spicy. Whatever!

Here’s the spice: She was cleaning the house. My spice. You know — my wife.

For her, clean means CLEAN. A speck of dirt here and there? Not in her dictionary. Unlike me.

So I went to her. “Look, next Friday we have to leave by 4 pm to catch the 7 pm train.”  

The ‘idea’ had just struck me, so I blurted it out. Nothing wrong. She herself once told me, “Spill your ideas then and there.”

But not this time. 

She’s in full cleaning mode. And when work mode is on, anger sits on the throne and listening hides under the sofa. Plus — ear plugs in. Lost to some podcast.

You know that female stare. The harsh ness. Eyes rolling in 4K. Enough to turn any man docile.

Two things happened: One, my idea was not heard. Two, the yelling began.  

“Despite my weak condition I’m doing all this hard work, and you come with your ‘ideas’!”

As if I don’t work. As if I’m running marathons in perfect health.

So I got angry. Back-yelling. Listing my hard work like a tax audit. A full-blown war.

Right at that boiling point, last week flashed in my head — me and my grandson.

We were on the floor with plastic animals and a toy aeroplane.  

I said, brightly, “I got an idea!” My grand plan: line up the animals, board them queue-wise into the plane. Very logical. Very Thatha.

Grandson’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea!”  

He ignored my Big Idea completely. Wow.  

“Thatha, this horse will sit on _this_ wing… you put the Zebra on _that_ wing. Then we fly the plane!”

His idea, his game. Thatha’s idea? No idea.  

And you know what? I was happy. Smiling, I surrendered. Put the zebra where he said. Flew the plane. No ego, only joy.

That memory hit me mid-war.  

So I did the same with my wife. Put a screeching brake on _my_ Idea. Surrendered. Smiled. Let her idea — “finish cleaning in peace” — win.

Thanks, grandson. You avoided an Idea Clash at home.  

Turns out, sometimes the biggest idea is to drop your idea.

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