A number of times in my life, I’ve likened myself to a lot of fictional characters. And have behaved what that character would’ve done in that particular situation. Part of this had been accentuated by a wave of Calvin books that swept by me in no time. Calvin thinks of himself as different characters in difficult situations and tries to struggle with his nemesis of the moment accordingly, only to realize towards the end that he actually is not what he thinks of himself to be. Reality strikes and things come back to haunt him.
Lately, I’ve wanted a lot to be like Forrest Gump. If, if I could just run away from some of the things in life.
The other day, I found a couple of lines a friend had scribbled in my yearbook (and I quote) “…you the complex kid, who’s got all the candy the world has to offer and yet...yet the yearning for that elusive chocolate that you missed.” Of all the things that my friends have said about me, this to my mind is quite a close description. And lately while I’m yet to find my elusive chocolate I think the life of this supposedly complex kid has got that bit more complex.
“Can I just run away with you to an island with loads of chocolates, water, a pile of Frasier and movie DVDs, music CD’s , my home theater system, comics and some cricket magazines and books?”
The question to be asked is: If the thought of escapism is quite soothing in itself, what unbridled joy might a real escape actually bring?