It’s funny how the world is so full of contradictions; how every time a proposition is presented, the contradictions come rushing in – the opponents, the critics, the naysayers. Not to sound too morose, but I find the greatest contradiction has manifested itself in regards to the impending inevitable, the doom, the death, the mortality, of life.
At times it seems as if we are such fools- confused, afraid and lost in an abyss of ignorance, where despite (presumably) knowing everything, we are in a mad rush to defy it, to prolong, to postpone, what we know will happen no matter what effort we put into it, or rather, against it.
Knowing death is inevitable, why do we discover new medicines to evade it? Can we evade it? What is the point in delaying it? Knowing lost time can never come back, why is there a constant attempt to create ‘time-machines’ and the like? What could possibly be the proper logic behind anti-ageing creams and the fountain of youth? Knowing that the people we love and care for will one day leave us only with painful memories of the past, why do we let ourselves fall victim to that pain? Believing immortality to be a myth, why do we try to achieve it?
It is true that we are a species lost in paradox, mind tricks, and what ifs.
No matter how I look at this, I find only one (some would say illogical) logic- we all want to believe in magic.
Being a poet and a dreamer, I’ve often dealt with those that think they’re a part of the rat-race, the fast world, while we ‘dreamers’ just sit back with our cuppa, the quill and the parchment, to carve verbal sculptures out of ink-drops; and those that think that philosophers and artists, (the vacant wanderers in the corridors of fantasy), couldn’t possibly care about the mighty burden on the shoulders of those, who are in pursuit of the higher endeavours, the real-deal, the ‘now’, so to speak.
We dreamers are (supposedly) out of touch with reality. We dwell in the realms of magic.
Yet one subtly fails to notice that when it comes down to the inevitabilities of our existence, every soul, regardless of their beliefs goes back to the core to believe in magic.
Why else do they love, for isn’t love an extension of magic? Why else do they create products and machines and inventions of all sorts to delay, to prolong the worst, for isn’t that a belief in dreams and miracles? Why else does each human hope- against all odds- for respite, if the scientific fact of the matter nullifies its very possibility?
We are born out of magic, our souls are magic, and therefore it will always be as real a part of creation, as reality itself.
The time-machine will never lose its enigma, the fountain of youth will never lose its charm, and loving another human will never fade away as long as life exists, no matter what we believe, no matter what we think.
In the core of our souls, we are all dreamers, aiming for the unreal, for isn’t reality created by our very dreams?
Just something to think about.
© Isha Garg
Doodle by Isha Garg