There are 2 or more sides to a story but what most don't bother to read is the prologue. Seen as a useless piece attached to the drama that unfolds, it was originally something which helped the audience cross-over- from their lives as shoe-makers, businessmen, authors and doctors to a moment which the play-write wanted them to experience. He did so because he wanted to paint a picture in their mind as close to what he envisioned in his. The background and the setting was to place things in context for the rest of the show to make sense as much to a bored-out-of-her-skull housewife as to a arduous muse of a famous pianist. It's a pity that paying heed to the prologue is out of fashion now because it helped define whatever the weaver wanted to weave; without it his work of art would be abstract even if he didn't intend for it to be so.
This takes me back to a conversation which I'm glad I was a part of very early in my life. I've known quite a few who'd confuse this with a debate over 'socially acceptable rights and wrongs' but I prefer to call it my contempt for believing in an 'eternal truth'.
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There was once a girl who feared defeat, she laughed at others for she was not going to give them a chance to mock her. She fortified for she worried she'd lose ground if she didn't. She was selfish because she decided that is the way es muss sein. A lot of people around her cringed when she opened her shrill mouth or rolled their eyes (claiming to be a bigger self) and passed her off as insecure. She couldn't care less.
Prologue: There was once a girl who lost her father when she was 10. All that remained of him were faint memories of his chatter and toys that he bought for her. She realized soon that now she didn't get the shiny car that she wanted from the shop window no matter how much she wailed. She adapted and soon she stopped asking for it. Seeing her mom work from morn to dusk- what she understood of life was that you've got to put up a long hard battle to get what you want. That's all she was trying for: to not be caught unprepared.
The truth you see is very different from the truth I see. You see a wrecked home and frown at the newness which caused it, but he sees long periods of silence and all the happiness that should've been but was'nt. You see a misfit but his friend's see a bundle of nerves. You see an innocent girl with no issues and hang-ups, but I see someone who strategically refuses to open her mouth to orchestrate what she wants.
Well here's what makes the difference- there is no ONE prologue which helps us cross-over. In that sense all our views are coloured. There is no eternal truth, the great thing about life is we can make it as subjective as we want to (reminds me of marketing and how much grey there is to it) and no you needn't agree with me because otherwise I'd be going against what I believe in :)
P.S: Knowing all the answers is not so much fun as it is to be able imagine questions which break the code.
This takes me back to a conversation which I'm glad I was a part of very early in my life. I've known quite a few who'd confuse this with a debate over 'socially acceptable rights and wrongs' but I prefer to call it my contempt for believing in an 'eternal truth'.
............................................................................................................................
There was once a girl who feared defeat, she laughed at others for she was not going to give them a chance to mock her. She fortified for she worried she'd lose ground if she didn't. She was selfish because she decided that is the way es muss sein. A lot of people around her cringed when she opened her shrill mouth or rolled their eyes (claiming to be a bigger self) and passed her off as insecure. She couldn't care less.
Prologue: There was once a girl who lost her father when she was 10. All that remained of him were faint memories of his chatter and toys that he bought for her. She realized soon that now she didn't get the shiny car that she wanted from the shop window no matter how much she wailed. She adapted and soon she stopped asking for it. Seeing her mom work from morn to dusk- what she understood of life was that you've got to put up a long hard battle to get what you want. That's all she was trying for: to not be caught unprepared.
The truth you see is very different from the truth I see. You see a wrecked home and frown at the newness which caused it, but he sees long periods of silence and all the happiness that should've been but was'nt. You see a misfit but his friend's see a bundle of nerves. You see an innocent girl with no issues and hang-ups, but I see someone who strategically refuses to open her mouth to orchestrate what she wants.
Well here's what makes the difference- there is no ONE prologue which helps us cross-over. In that sense all our views are coloured. There is no eternal truth, the great thing about life is we can make it as subjective as we want to (reminds me of marketing and how much grey there is to it) and no you needn't agree with me because otherwise I'd be going against what I believe in :)
P.S: Knowing all the answers is not so much fun as it is to be able imagine questions which break the code.
Profound…the truth is that there is no truth. It’s all a figment of our tamed conscience!
ReplyDeleteThis piece touches on the same themes as the book 'The Life of Pi' and it does so in fewer words and without even winning the Booker Prize. Great.
ReplyDeleteA comment that made my day :) is that you tushita?
ReplyDelete