Thoughts & Musings

Everyone likes a good story. Be it written or spoken. As children, me and my bro always like to sit at the laps of my dad (who happens to be a good story teller) and nag him to churn out some stories. He disappoints seldomly. Even till this day, some of his stories remain in our minds.

 What’s so captivating about fiction? It doesn’t require much explanation or a past. When you hear “Once upon a time, there was a rich and wicked man”, you (normally) don’t ask, “Why was he rich?” or “How did he become wicked?”. The initial condition is simply stated and accepted. Nor is a continuation or an ending required. Some ends with happily ever after, some just ends, as if the author was suddenly satisfied with his/her work, leaving the reader to guess and speculate.

 Stories, unlike life, do not owe anything to the past nor bear the responsibility for the future. As I’m writing this, the lady beside me in the train is reading a novel titled “The night train to Lisbon”. Presumably it’s about the event in that particular night, and nothing more.

 Stories, unlike life, do not submit to the logic of this world nor the boundaries of human. The best stories that I’ve read are those that create a world of its own – Lord of the rings, Harry Potter, Artemis Fowl… and so on. It takes you away, however temporary, to a place where only the imagination is the limitation.

 All these makes me wonder about the psychology and the emotions behind both the creation and consumption of these fictions. The common notion is that everyone of us  is an escapist in one way or another. Stories provide not just a respite, but also the hope for better things to come. Some stories make you feel significant, as if being a part of something, a conspiracy or a conquest. It is not without reason that fictions far outsell the non-fictions.

 As I was thinking through all these, I tried to find a common denominator among all the good authors. Imagination and at least some good language and expressive skills surely, but what else?

 Then it struck me. Can it be – Hope?

 It’s not about hoping for a future or a world like those in these stories. But somehow this hope produces a sort of naiveness, a sort of optimism, expanding the horizon of their imagination. When you have hope, you can do everything and be anything in the future, just ask a child. There’s no tax return for the pot of gold you’d soon strike, no bureaucracy for the company you’d find, no marketing for the product you’d create and so on. They hope…. and start writing.

 Maybe? Just maybe. Mrs. Rowling was at brink of poverty when Harry came into her mind. Mr. Tolkien was well educated but never rich. And you can probably at least name a few author whose first book was so mesmerizing but disappoint henceforth. Can it be that once they achieve fame and wealth, this element of hope diminishes? There are not many rich authors who produce good work after they become rich. Somehow the comfortable lifestyle saturates the mind.

 Maybe I’m being sour grapes? Well, as with all my thoughts, they are just thoughts.