In this blog post, we’ll explore—through the movie ‘Three Idiots’—the meaning of choosing the life you want, the process of pursuing your dreams in the face of family and societal expectations, and reflections on the current state of education.
“Three Idiots” may have a unique title, but it is not a movie about fools or idiots. The Indian film “Three Idiots,” a masterpiece directed by Rajkumar Hirani, tells the story of young protagonists who navigate the challenges of everyday life in India—resolving family conflicts, discovering their true calling, and never giving up on love or success.
While most of us choose to attend engineering college out of personal interest, among India’s working class, it is considered a goal for a successful life for men to attend engineering college and for women to attend medical school. Against this backdrop, three young men—Raju, Rancho, and Farhan—enroll at Imperial Institute of Technology, India’s top university. Raju comes from a poor family and wants to become an engineer so he can lift his family out of poverty through a stable job. He is a pessimistic and timid character who struggles with poverty. Rancho, though the son of a wealthy family, is a unique engineering student who criticizes the university’s educational system and often asks off-the-wall questions. With his innate imagination, he takes on the role of a leader who guides his friends, expresses dissatisfaction with the existing social system, and seeks alternatives. Farhan enrolled in engineering school but was forced by his strict father to give up his dream of becoming a photographer. The film begins ten years after they graduate, with Raju and Farhan setting out to find Rancho, who has gone missing. The story unfolds in the style of a road movie, interspersed with flashbacks to their college days.
In this film, many characters are tormented and pained by the fact that they were unable to choose their own paths and ultimately ended up conforming to reality. There are characters like Raju, who chose a life of earning as much money as possible out of poverty, and Farhan, who is pursuing a career in engineering rather than his true passion as a photographer to satisfy his parents’ desire to show off—people who live as if their life paths were determined the very minute they were born. Yet, among them, only Rancho is different. He refuses the bizarre rituals typically associated with freshman traditions; as an engineering student, he confidently articulates his own concept of a machine—one he desires and pursues—rather than the mechanical definition found in textbooks; and he possesses the ability to stand up to those who dismiss his actions and label him an oddball. That ability—which allowed him to confidently place first on an exam and win Professor Virus’s one-of-a-kind pen—was not instilled by others, but rather created and achieved entirely on his own. Through this ability, he gradually moves the hearts of those who are trapped in the shackles of a life lived for others, content to settle for reality while constantly suffering. Raju, who is so afraid of life that he merely prays to countless “lucky rings” for a smooth life; Farhan, who wants to be a photographer but lives the life his parents demand; and even Farhan’s father, who forces Farhan to live a life he doesn’t want rather than his own—they all begin to change, little by little.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to find people like Rancho in my circle. If I look around, just like in the movie, I see friends who are living according to the path others demand, not the one they truly want. If their parents want them to become civil servants, they take the civil service exam without even knowing what a civil servant is. Even if they have a boyfriend they like, if others tell them they should date a man who makes good money, they end up breaking up eventually. We are always at a crossroads of choice. There are countless paths we can choose, and those choices are ultimately determined by our own will. Yet we often allow others to interfere with the path we should be choosing for ourselves. We end up following the path they’ve laid out for us—the path that others say is best. The path others have laid out is usually a practical one—not necessarily the path I prefer, but rather the one I’m best suited for, the one with the least burden, and the safest one. This is reality.
From start to finish, the film is structured to make viewers laugh and cry, prompting them to realize many things, reflect, and ponder. It is a deeply moving film—so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes throughout. Although it tackles difficult issues—such as the harsh realities of education in impoverished areas, a rigidly hierarchical education system, and student suicides—the film seamlessly weaves together laughter and emotion, leaving my face streaked with tears. It’s an intellectual and serious film, yet its 160-minute runtime never feels tedious. And while it’s an Indian film grounded in reality, it features group dance sequences throughout, along with stunning choreography unfolding in the protagonists’ imaginations and catchy lyrics and melodies that really stick in your mind.
Finally, the stifling, oppressive reality of India’s education system—which prioritizes rote memorization over understanding—feels strikingly similar to the educational realities in many East Asian countries. At a prestigious engineering college that receives hundreds of thousands of applications each year but selects only 200 students, I find myself wishing there were more people like the protagonist, Rancho, who wants to change the world’s misguided stereotypes and idealized standards entrenched within the school, Indian society, and the students themselves.
