“A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading.”
- William Styron
Alright, here I am back to writing after a really long and unintentional hiatus. I have been trying too hard to slog my ass at
work and finish reading the books that have been lying on my shelves unattended
for quite some time now. Seriously there have been days that I have come early
from the office only to savour few pages from the books. And, sooner I realised
how addicted am I to fiction, and, hence this article.
Oh
Reality! Thou a heartless bitch! This very statement has penetrated my thoughts
infinite times, mostly after I am done savoring a book, a fiction one at that
and apparently the reality has intervened all those times and grounded me
before I put the book back in the shelf.
I have been pondering on this ever since I
started reading, and I keep questioning myself, my mom why can’t our lives be
an emulation of one of those stories? Or characters? And, there was only one
answer erupted out of my mother’s mouth: Grow up! Get a life, you will know! Life
isn’t what it is in books! And, I encounter her saying, you will not realize
until you read mom. Son, don’t forget I am a librarian by profession for the
past 15 years, books are an integral part of my life, not my life.
Not only my mom, many people preach about how
reality is different from books and I reckon how every muscle of their mouth
wreathes in pain while saying so! I have felt that pain quite few times now;
nevertheless I perceive every situation with a fictitious mind and feel quite
amazed and amused by the outcomes! I know it is weird but, with me everything
has to be fictitious, reality is agonizing, hideous and a clear emulation of
Satan.
Imagine living the life of one of those
characters from the books, not one in fact you would be living many a lives at
once, for instance you are a rich, business tycoon, the other you are a master
thief who robs that rich business tycoon and kills him, or be the detective who
would chase down the thief and crack the mystery of the century.
Why can’t our life be an emulation of one of
those love stories? Where in the guy
caters to every need of his woman love and she to his, and they manage to
transcend the art of love to an all new level. I am not a gushy-mushy romantic
guy, but then it seems too perfect to ignore and shrug it off just by saying it
is fiction.
I wonder what if for one moment, the clock
strikes and the wheel of time squalls halt and everything around you is
fictitious! Nothing would happen for real, even if something did, you can knock
it off by realizing that this is not reality, but fiction. Reality is and if
not eventually will be monotonous; one would know what he/ she is destined to do,
since you write your own destiny. But, fiction throws surprises at every turn and going through that surprise itself, sends a chill down the spine, imagine living it.
Well, during the course of drafting this very article,
I have pondered on this very thought that, I need to grow up and get a life,
but then we are dealing with fiction here, and once you grow in to it, there is
no escaping it.
Okay got to go now, someone’s on the door.
“Oh, it is R.E.A.L.I.T.Y!!”
Adios!
