My Son the Fanatic

Naturally I also annoyed him...
by asking why my best friend, a Hindu,
would go to "kaffiir," hell,
when he was such a good chap.

His eyes would bulge fully out.
He would clip my arms and legs
with the cane until blood came.

But it took no effect.
Still I would drop off.

He selected another solution.
He took a piece of string...

and tied it from the ceiling
to my hair here.

When I dropped off,
I would wake up like thus.

After such treatment I said good-bye
permanently to next life...

and said hello to... work.
But you can't blame the young
for believing in something beside money.

You've got to give Farid
a better philosophy.

- What type?
- I don't know.

How do you feel about things?
The purpose of life, all that.
How we should treat each other.
Good, I think, where possible.
But I can't explain
the origin of universe.

I'm full.
See you tomorrow.
Hey, call me Sandra when we're alone.
This is the password, yeah, to you?
I don't know when I last kissed a man.
Do you mind?