If you had the option, what
superpower would you ask for? For a day, for yourself? And no! Doing the world
a favour or getting rid of evil, doesn't count. Think of
something selfish, something just for yourself. Thinking???
Until then, i'll tell you my story...
Just like everybody else, I work. To pay my bills, to buy
unnecessary items i desire, to build a room full of things. And thus every
day I go about doing my daily chores, my mundane routine of home to office and
office to home. I live the life as me, the sensible one. The physical I in this
physical world of money, science, politics, religion and all that makes up a
society.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not going to harp on about how
one should love what they do or do what they love. That we shall leave for so many others to decide for you and me. And personally, I love buying all
the unnecessary clutter in my life. The clothes, candles, flowers,
watches, umbrellas and the never ending list of great stationery. But
every day, for a couple of minutes or maybe hours, I escape. I run with all my
might to dive into a new world. A world, created and built by another person,
in a different era, in a city far away from mine. I plummet down the rabbit
hole to a wonderland of words and ink. All feelings, all sensations at
their peak. Love, hatred, grief, anger, content, happiness, jealousy, doubt.
Emotions personified. Embodied in an inked figure, timeless, never fading.
I walk the meadows with Elizabeth Bennett, like her Christmas ghost.
Feeling shattered at her late realisation of her love. My faith returns, when Mr. Darcy, more amiable and still sincere, reappears to profess his love,
yet again. In my most nostalgic days, I too dream of Manderley, to days of
yonder. The sense of revenge fueled when Heathcliff is wronged. And yet
feeling despondent when his anger boils over everything else he could
feel. His hatred taking hold of him through his life and following him to his
death.
I look up to Howard Roark, for my inspiration. Imagine
myself in the shoes of Gregor Samsa, crawling through my transformations. I
quietly, with all stillness, follow all Jeeves and Poirots of the world with a deerstalker covering my head and wrapped in a large overcoat. I embrace myself
when Liesel hears the bombing raid sirens and yet eagerly anticipate another
reading from the book thief. I hold my breath, hiding in the forest, when Harry
first casts his Patronus charm beautifully. I fall, I jump, I cry and smile, I
live a little and die a little, with every page flip, I tremble in my seat as
if walking through the cold valleys of Mordor.
The everyday is the inevitable part of the life. I love
surrounding myself with routine and chores. I love travelling and
watching TV. I continue to do so. I continue to earn to do so. But then I also love having wads and rolls of
paper lying around me. Books bought or borrowed, new or tattered, broken
into or preserved. These hold the essence to my secret power. The power to
relive all the moments if and when I want. The power to decide what I want
to be, a spectator or a character, a passerby or a hero. I can ride the dragon
or sit on a bench in a park and still be as enamored by the whole
landscape.
When all hell breaks loose, I find my safe haven in an aisle
of the library. A cup of hot coffee, a warm blanket, a cosy corner and
nice book. What more can you ask for after a day fraught with train rides and
cold winds.
"Medicine, law, business, engineering. These are all
noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life.
But poetry, beauty,
romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."
- Good Will Hunting
I live in two worlds.
My world of books, inspire me to be great and inspirational in my physical world.
Thus, I live in two worlds...
Comments
Post a Comment