There is this time-honoured tradition of dividing everything into three categories. Like numerous other things, this custom traces back to classical Greek thought. Without in any way intending to disrespect the Greek sages however, I have found two to be a much more useful number instead. Male and female, smart and silly, ugly and beautiful, in-tune and tone-deaf, prodigal and dutiful, good and bad (cholesterol, Taliban, etc.), fortune and misfortune… the list goes on. Binary classification in the cognitive domain is extremely handy, and not just in computing.
Few men and even fewer women would disagree that mothers-in-law come in two distinct varieties: The good (everybody else’s that is, especially their spouse’s) and the evil (namely their own). Of grass, there are also two types. The green grass and the greener one, the latter being always on the other side of the fence.
Husbands are also of two sorts: the bad ones and the exceedingly bad ones. The types of wives (two again) were best described arguably by Robert Mugabe. While I am no Mugabe fan, in the spirit of giving the devil his due, I am reproducing the description here: The first type of wife listens to her husband, understands his thoughts and feelings, always behaves lovingly, forgives and forgets, and keeps smiling even when she has reasons to be unhappy. The second type is the one that everyone has.
Friends are similarly of two kinds: the ordinary friend and the ‘best friend’. Whenever you want to see their difference in all its dazzling clarity, just praise a woman in front of her best friend. To get a similar explosion of jealousy from a man however, the best friends must hail from the same profession.
Aunts and grandmothers are also of two kinds: those that keep constantly asking you when you plan on getting married (if you happen to be single) or when should they expect to hear ‘good news’ (if you have already tied the knot); and those that do not, owing to having interests other than your conjugal bliss and the safe and successful transfer of your quite unrivalled DNA to the next generation of humankind.
There are those that divide everything into a certain number of categories and those that do not. Which type do you think you are?
‘Uncles’ are also of two kinds. It is one thing to call an elderly stranger ‘Uncle’ as a mark of respect, but completely another when one is on the receiving end of the respectful gesture. I was reminded of this recently while hiking the Margalla Hills’ scenic Trail 3. I was passing a group of men perched on a large rock, who were huffing and puffing on account of the strenuous activity, apparently having given up the hike (at least temporarily). The one exception in the bunch, who seemed to still have a lot left in his gas tank, was exhorting his friends to get going again. In a bid to motivate his fellows, he pointed in my direction and remarked: ‘If Uncle can do it, surely so can you!’ Now, while these guys were no doubt about ten years younger, ‘Uncle’ was a bit of a stretch and therefore uncalled for, or so I felt. My friend who was just behind me had seen and heard everything. He had also noticed (and enjoyed) by bemused look. He cheered me up by remarking: ‘Never mind! This man’s father is also likely to address you as ‘Uncle’, if that is any consolation!’
By way of an aside, let me share some other details of the trek. It was reassuring to note that though it was years since I had last hiked and we took the steepest possible route, at no point did the activity feel overly taxing. All that jogging had not gone in vain after all. Also, there was a great deal of entertainment over and above the joys of physical exertion. For instance, many ladies’ choice of footwear, though eye-catching, could by no stretch of the imagination be deemed appropriate (or even safe) for the occasion. Then there were men who kept smoking with gay abandon, some on the move and some while taking much deserved ‘rests’. Talk about charming ironies!
The icing on the cake came at the very end though, when we got stuck in an almighty jam while trying to exit the parking lot. The reason: everybody, instead of heading straight to empty parking spaces of which there were plenty, was insisting on dropping their loved ones right in front of the trail’s starting point, so that the poor souls did not have to walk to it. And there I was, thinking that they were all there for exercise! I see that I have digressed far from my topic. Or have I? For it has just occurred to me that there are two types of men: those that consider human beings rational creatures and those that do not.
Finally (but no less significantly), there are those that divide everything into a certain number of categories and those that do not. Which type do you think you are?
