Gandhi's Guide to Getting By

chapter three

I want to make one thing clear:

Yes, I saw the movie, Gandhi.

Yes, I was inspired.

BUT, and I realize it's a big but, I have never actually read anything he wrote.

Mom thinks this is awful She thinks if you're going to quote someone, you should at least have read what he wrote. I tell her I'm part of the generation with the two-minute attention span.

"What does that mean?" she says. She takes a long sip of her coffee and looks at me.

"It means I get his quotes off the internet."

"How do you know they're accurate?"

"I don't. I figure if they weren't, some Gandhi expert would have logged on and corrected them by now. Besides, true wisdom doesn't need to be footnoted."

Mom doesn't agree. She thinks sites like Brainy Quotes are for lazy people. She also thinks it's perfectly unacceptable that an English Lit major from Harvard can't be bothered to read the works of someone who supposedly inspires her. I tell her I'm reading all the time, I just haven't read Gandhi yet.

"It's about accuracy and avoiding misinterpretation," Mom says, looking at her watch. Mom and Dad are partners at the same law firm. Usually they leave for work together, but Ax has summer camp to get to and Mom's the designated morning driver. She takes a small bite of her toast and motions with her hand I should do the same. "Ax," she yells into the air.

We can hear Ax stomping around in her bedroom which is directly above the kitchen. She's probably looking for her calculator, her notebooks, her bunsen burners. I keep thinking it's a good thing Ax was born in this century and not during the era of the witch hunts. While most kids her age paint their rooms pink or purple or whatever, Ax's white walls (color, according to Ax, "distracts the mind") are covered with posters of Charles Darwin, Sir Isaac Newton, Marie Curie, Albert Einstein. She and Linny applied to this science camp six months ago. Essays were written, marks were sent, letters of recommendation were sought. I kept telling her she and Linny were the only ones applying  so no need to stress, but apparently there are lots of Ax/Linny personalities running loose in this city, all of them well-adjusted children who would love nothing more than to kill for a spot at such a camp.  The sound of her bedroom door opening. "Don't rush me," she yells, "I'm trying to pack some of the e coli I ordered and I will not be held responsible for any mishaps."

I look at Mom who looks like she isn't sure how someone like Ax got into our house, let alone our lives. "E coli?" I say, "You can order E coli?"

"Apparently," she says. She looks at her toast, carefully.

"If you're looking for E-coli," I tell her, "it's untraceable."

"Don't be absurd, Emma. Of couse I'm not looking for E-coli."

"Mom," Ax yells, "I'm missing a box of E-coli."

Mom looks at her coffee, like she isn't sure she should take another sip. "Oh to hell," she says. She lifts the mug to her lips, pauses for a second, then takes the sip she's craving. "Anyway, all I'm saying is maybe you should read some of Gandhi's works."

"And all I'm saying is that true wisdom travels from one generation to the next. People take what inspires them and give it their own twist."

"Interpretation is always subjective," Ax says, walking into the kitchen. She carefully puts downs her knapsack which is already packed for camp, "I bet if Gran saw the movie Gandhi, she'd interpret his peaceful resistance as the precursor to her lie downs at abortion clinics. By the way, found the missing box. Linny had it."