Wednesday, December 01, 2004

A friend called Denial

I just finished Azar Nafisi's book, 'Reading Lolita in Tehran', and something struck me as very odd about my own behaviour.
Whenever my own life is hit by disharmony, I shift my gaze from the personal to the political. I read newspapers more avidly. I surf the internet. I participate in other people's lives, just so I can get away from my own. Like Humbert of Lolita, I shift the gaze from the pityful and repugnant, to the surreal debates, arts and random joy. I seduce myself into believing that grand-er things exist; that I am, only a small player, standing on the shoulders of giants, that somehow I owe it to the blessings I have receieved, to provide words and decipher meanings.
I read the future in the present, with complete disregard for the past, like the people around me who insist on a 'spiritual' love that stands apart from the passionate one, not realizing that it is just another ideal they have bestowed on themselves to hide the misery of the moment.
And as my roommate Sherazi reminds me, we all live in alternate realities, interpretations that give order to the universe around us; an act of faith rather than a statistical probability.
Right now, December 3rd is an important date, one where I will have to talk myself out of a jam I am in. And I can't wait for it to pass by.
Here are some big words to remember by yours truly, in a diary I wrote 15 years back.

No one should have to bear the reality of himself, before bearing the reality of the world around him.