It is all around us. We are enmeshed in it. This is something we are forced to live with 24×7. Love it or hate it, you can’t leave it.
It is Reality. Yes, with a capital R.
The world around us is bound by a set of rules, governing the way things move around. We are tied by a several skeins of strings so that our movements are restricted. These restrictions are defined by who we are, where we live, who we live with, who we live around and what we do for a living. If we think more we can surely come up with more of these elements, but these factors restrict us somehow at some point of our lives. We cannot do what we want to do. So much so, we are afraid to think what we want to do. In this regard it is imperative to remember that we’re restricting ourselves to that arena of life, in which we do something for fun and not as something that is we’re supposed to do for a living or as part of our jobs.
I’ve never been to the US. All my images of that country generate from my reading and the films I have watched. I feel it would be wonderful to ride a high speed motorcycle along a broad tree-lined street in top gear in brilliant sunshine, chasing the mountains far beyond, watching quaint little towns swish by with the voice of Kenny Rogers or Merle Haggard emanating from my headset. It’s a wonderful idea – wonderfully pleasant and pleasantly wonderful.
But then there are some problems here. First of all, I’ve never ridden a motorcycle in my life. And the first thing I’d do when I begin is probably crash it against the nearest wall, the best efforts notwithstanding. Next comes the place I choose. Airfare to the US, coupled with the visa fees is something I probably make in five or seven years, given the state of my finances at this moment. And then I wonder how would a visa officer react when I tell him I want to go for a motorcycle tour of the US. Probably he’d reach for the REJECT stamp and politely advise me to stick to HBO and Star Movies for my regular fix of America.
But I don’t need a US visa to feel the red leaves of autumn gently dropping on the ground, painting the earth red and shades of bright yellow. All I need is a quiet place and my own mind.
All right reality, if you are ready hurt me, I am ready to deflect your blow. I have imagination.
It is true. There would be prices that I cannot control. There would be a hot and humid summer. There would be the most exasperating little things that will pester you at every second of your day to day life. But nothing, absolutely nothing can take away my imagination. I can live with and live in my own personal America inside my head. And tell you what, this one might be better than the real one. So far as I know, I won’t need any money to get there, no dehumanising immigration process (like I read in the papers). And when I do get there, everyone around is gonna be friendly and greet me when they see me, for the simple reason that these people are just figments of my imagination.
So, in this way we can very safely shut out the reality, the restrictions, the fencing that determines what we can or cannot do. Is that it?
I don’t think so.
Reality is – for all practical purposes – what it is. It IS real, tangible, and hard and cold. It has it’s own bitter moments, and yes, it has its own sweet moments too.