Future me will do it
Bhavisha’s Diwali holiday had six days left. Her homework was six pages of Marathi handwriting. One evening could hold two pages, between the visits, the sweets and the lanterns.
On Tuesday she said, “Tomorrow.” She was not being lazy. On Tuesday, tomorrow really did look like a better day for it.
On Wednesday she said it again. So it went on Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
On Sunday night she wrote two pages, fast, while the last crackers went off outside. Four stayed blank. She had been so sure that Sunday-Bhavisha would do them.
The idea
Bhavisha likes to lay things out in time. She keeps a long paper scroll for it, and puts things side by side on it.
People who study choices have a sentence for a week like hers.
The idea
“Future me will do it”: the later self is treated as a different person with more time and more willpower, and has neither.
Take it in two halves.
Your later self is you, on a day that has not come yet. Sunday-Bhavisha was Bhavisha, five days on.
But on Tuesday, Bhavisha did not picture her as herself. She pictured a helper: a girl with a long, empty Sunday and lots of energy.
“Future me will do it” talks about you as if you were someone else.
The pictured Sunday is the one box bigger than all the others.
Now the second half: and has neither.
More time? Sunday had the same hours as Tuesday, and just as many visits.
More willpower, the push that gets you started? Sunday-Bhavisha wanted the sweets and the cousins just as much as Tuesday-Bhavisha did. She was more tired, if anything.
The room was always there. It was in the days she said “tomorrow” on. Sunday had no extra room to give.
Two holidays, one shape
Bhavisha unrolled her scroll on the floor. She laid the Ganpati holiday beside the Diwali one.
In September she had four pages to write and five days. She had said “tomorrow” then too. On the last evening she had written two pages. Two stayed blank.
The dates were different. The homework was different. The shape was the same.
So the later self is not a helper on her way. She is you, a few days on, with the same size of day. The last holiday’s Sunday is the best picture of the next one.
What people say instead
Kaka was making a photo album for Ajoba’s seventieth birthday. The party was on Sunday. There were six pages to fill, and six evenings left. Each evening had room for one page.
Each evening he came home from work, sat down and laughed. “Not today, Bhavisha. I am too tired. Tomorrow I will feel like it.”
He was not worried. He meant it every time.
He was tired, and that much was true every single evening.
Bhavisha did not argue. She had said the same words all through Diwali.
Each tomorrow came as a today. And Kaka was just as tired in it.
One more place
It happens inside one evening too.
Bhavisha wanted to read three chapters of her library book before bed. At seven she picked up her phone. “One video, then I start.”
At half past seven it was one more. At eight, one more again. Later was always half an hour away, and each half hour was the same size as the one before.
At half past nine she opened the book, sleepy, and read one chapter.
Spot it
One more place. Look at it the way Bhavisha would.
1
Omkar’s science fair model is due on Friday. It has five parts to make. On Monday he says, “Thursday-Omkar will do it. He is brilliant at models.” Who is Thursday-Omkar?
2
Look at Thursday’s box beside Monday’s. Is it any bigger?
3
What would Bhavisha lay beside Thursday on her scroll?
Bhavisha said nothing to Omkar. She made a note on her scroll, and waited for Thursday.
One shape, four people
Thursday came, and it was an ordinary Thursday. Thursday-Omkar was Omkar, three days on. He made two parts.
Sunday-Bhavisha, Saturday-Kaka, the half past nine Bhavisha and Thursday-Omkar share one shape. Each was pictured with a bigger day. Each got a day the same size as the others.
So when you hear “future me will do it”, even in your own voice, picture that day beside today. It will be the same size, and you will be the one in it.
Nobody in this chapter was lazy. Each of them meant it.
This week, at home
Listen for “later”, “tomorrow” or “from Monday”, in your own voice. Write one down, with its day. When that day comes, look at what it held.
Bhavisha could almost hear Uncle Jayarashi, who asked hard questions at every family dinner. “Show me this Sunday-Bhavisha,” he would have said. “Show me one you have seen.” She could not. Nobody has seen a later self. She did not know yet what next Sunday’s Bhavisha would do. She knew what the last ones had done.
The name
People who study choices call this present bias. The present is now. A bias is a lean, a tilt that always goes the same way.
Here the lean is towards now. Now gets the fun, and the later self gets the work, because she is pictured as somebody else. Everybody has this lean: children, uncles, grown-ups at work.
On the first morning of the next holiday, Bhavisha looked at her scroll. Then she wrote one page.
Where you will see this next
Next chapter: Sunday-you will have no more time and no more willpower than you have today. So can today-you do anything to help?