I am a fiction writer. Which by default means that I am capable of and I love to spend most of my time in that place which is dramatically disconnected from reality. While some are in awe of me others think I am a coward. If I am truly honest with myself I would agree with the latter.
It is fairly easy to build a random world where you get to play God. But to face the truth? That is a scary proposition indeed. Reality is as wonderfully horrifying as the fictional world it inspires. All those conspiracy theories which make best sellers and block busters have their roots in the very real world we operate in. And THAT is terrifying. Which is why today I openly confess to being the biggest coward there possibly is.
I am not proud of it. But it is who I have become.
I can argue. When the argument is about something I am passionate about but involves no active participation on my behalf, I launch into it equipped with an arsenal of words that can render quite a few minds speechless. But when the argument is about something that really matters, I paste a polite smile on my face and am content to be the fly on the wall. Like a Political argument on which party should come into power and who deserves to become the Prime Minister.
It IS my country. Whatever the outcome of this political drama; it IS going to affect ME. I know that. I understand that. Yet I resolutely refuse to be drawn into a political debate of any kind. As the elections close in upon us I wake up every morning with my heart beating in my mouth. I have had one nightmare or another about what India has turned into and takes a while for me to realize that the comfort of a very dysfunctional but familiar India has not been snatched away from me; yet.
The one culprit for this restless, agitated state I am in is Imagination. I am cursed with an imaginative mind. When someone screams ‘murderer’ for Modi and when I see videos and images of the Godhra riots being dug up and plastered all over the internet; I immediately see him as the villain with Dracula fangs, holding a dagger dripping with human blood. He does not fit into the mold of the responsible leader who should be governing my country.
Likewise when I read about the CIA links of Arvind Kejrival, his muffler turns into a ninja mask and there is an entire sequence of stealthy samurai action involving the robbing of some bank or the other which unfolds in my mind’s eye. I do not see him as Robin Hood or some gallant savior; instead he becomes the glib talking villain of a well-made Bollywood flick. Does it comfort me to see him as a leader of this nation? Definitely not.
Every time I make up my mind about placing my faith in either a political party or leader there is an attack! I am bombarded with comments and accusations. I am made to believe that I have no sense of who to trust and who not to. People I have known for years sound hostile and behave like ill-mannered ogres. Once they have let their aggression pour out through their actions, expressions and words, they will huff and puff from the effort that it has taken and shake their heads and tell me, “you are educated. Take an informed decision.”
I want to scream that I am trying to take an informed decision! Just give me the space to. As if reading up on and listening to both sides of the ‘competing’ parties is not confusing enough, I am forced to deal with the opinionated impressions of those around me. In a matter of seconds the atmosphere turns from wise to silly! And it is not the nice kind of silly either. It is that kind of silly which makes parents want to use the monster under the bed to discipline their children. Completely unnecessary, grossly indecent and scarily inhuman!
The coward that I am; I cower from this show of violent thoughts. I run from the aggression of clashing egos and rage-blinded words. I feel like that Alice in Wonderland who has been stripped from her Wonderland and is now left fumbling in the scary real world. Everywhere I turn a monster lurks.
Perhaps ‘Peaceful Politics’ is a myth that stemmed in Utopia. But peaceful people are very real. At least they used to be… until political debates became more personal. Until every discussion became less about information sharing and more about proving that you had made the right choice.
And then I turned into a coward. I am not proud of it. But it is who I have become.
1 comment:
Well... To start with I dont agree with the statement where u tried to indicate sone connection between your fiction writing and being a coward.
I think everyone can see, hear etc and then recreate it. Some will put it on canvas as it is.. Some will add some masala while some will make a dreadful copy. However, a fiction writer has to 'create' which according to me is the biggest gift that mankind is blessed with - creativity. What would have we done without it.
Now about politics. I've not yet met a single person who has been able to convincingly speak about any party's work or the reason for his/her decision, including me. It's just too complicated this year.
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