the book...
A story does not need to have a tragedy to make it worth reading. it does not need to have grave danger for it to be told.
the spectacular plots with things happening that we cannot even imagine do excite us but they do not present to us a situation we can relate to. theres needs to be no giant ice berg or families killing eachother meaninglessly for interest to develop and sustain. the most relevant and recurrent of tragedies happen each day in our lives. they appear normal to people and sometimes to us aswell but they spur and create emotions that we cannot handle. they have more depth than the cold Antarctic seas or more urgency than a fuse ticking the seconds down. life holds a ticker called fate and it ticks when it wants; it ticks soundlessly. 10...9....8....7...6....5...4...3...2...1...0
nothing happens at zero. its like an underground nuclear testing. the switch is thrown but all you see is some dust that settle in a while. the havoc that goes on underneath *sometimes not even apparent to us* sets its place in stone. we live with that tragedy which emerged, existed, erupted and sustained but no one found out. no one understood how big it was. it was just some dust that settled after a while.
i long to read a book which is not about tempests or creatures or religion or conspiracies or serial killers. i want to read a book which is about someone like me who works and lives. who dreams and kills the dream. someone like you who loves and losses, who wants and does not love. i want it to be about the guy i saw walking that day on the road on a zebra crossing. he was not looking at the traffic but at the canal with kids swimming in it. i want it to be about the preacher i met on the bus. i want it to be about the girl at the office who stared at the light of the multimedia projector a bit too long.
if i write this book, will you read it?
the spectacular plots with things happening that we cannot even imagine do excite us but they do not present to us a situation we can relate to. theres needs to be no giant ice berg or families killing eachother meaninglessly for interest to develop and sustain. the most relevant and recurrent of tragedies happen each day in our lives. they appear normal to people and sometimes to us aswell but they spur and create emotions that we cannot handle. they have more depth than the cold Antarctic seas or more urgency than a fuse ticking the seconds down. life holds a ticker called fate and it ticks when it wants; it ticks soundlessly. 10...9....8....7...6....5...4...3...2...1...0
nothing happens at zero. its like an underground nuclear testing. the switch is thrown but all you see is some dust that settle in a while. the havoc that goes on underneath *sometimes not even apparent to us* sets its place in stone. we live with that tragedy which emerged, existed, erupted and sustained but no one found out. no one understood how big it was. it was just some dust that settled after a while.
i long to read a book which is not about tempests or creatures or religion or conspiracies or serial killers. i want to read a book which is about someone like me who works and lives. who dreams and kills the dream. someone like you who loves and losses, who wants and does not love. i want it to be about the guy i saw walking that day on the road on a zebra crossing. he was not looking at the traffic but at the canal with kids swimming in it. i want it to be about the preacher i met on the bus. i want it to be about the girl at the office who stared at the light of the multimedia projector a bit too long.
if i write this book, will you read it?
posted by K Yousaf at 5:52 AM
6 Comments:
Brightening up the template might cheer you up you know. :)
you assume i need cheering up (:
isnt it a bit cliche` to take darkness as negativity?
but see i guess fiction is all abt taking u to another world...somewhere ud forget all ur worries. what good wud it be if we read abt the everyday troubles in books as well? u r right it wud be more realistic but i guess that was what gave birth to fairy tales- a utopian ideal.
but i wud like to read ur book nonetheless :)
have u read Kamila Shamsie?
I will, K. :)
Why does everyone always miss that the girl looked at the multimedia projector light for a bit too long? That story will be my story.
tee you do have a point. but my point is that the smaller accomplishments *tangible or not* then get lost somewhere as insignificant. we need to pride ourselves on our little accomplishments; those dire fairy tale ogres that cross our path each week.
Buzzka you can have that story. you've been a strong character this past week so you deserve a reward(:
hmm.. complicated explanation. For one I took the post as negative not the darkness. :). My initial blog was a midnight blue for the longest time. However since I felt the post was negative, I presumed you did need cheering up. In which case I figured the darkness might be feeding depression. Dont know about cliches... but I know I like sunshine. :D.
In the end though tis nice to know I was wrong about the depression. :)
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