Thursday, November 29, 2012

My word against Paulo Coelho. - A.


Paulo Coelho writes in his celebrated book, the Alchemist, 'When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.' As the Alchemist gained universal popularity, this quote also became one of the most used, one of the most inspirational and beloved quotes of the year. It was once again used in Hindi in the blockbuster movie Om Shanti Om, the 'beautiful', yet sickeningly optimistic idea being imprinted into the minds of the masses. 'Ager kisi chees ko suche man se chaho to, sari kainat usay tum se milane ki koshish main lag jati hay' or something along those lines, anyway.

Paulo Coelho used to be one of my favorite writers. I like his sense of passion, his way with words and how he can convince anyone about anything. He holds a fascinating amount of spell over his readers, making them believe most of his words unquestioningly. 
Also, then there is the ability to make far places seem near, a quality any writer should have. But despite being, a great writer I came to realize that I have huge issues with Coelho. I realized, as I read through his books that with him, the glass is always half full. He is a hopeless optimist. It is sickening. I mean, the general belief is that you have to be positive about life. (Note how, I said general belief and not my belief) and even if we do come to terms with that, this Brazillian genius just puts too much blind faith on the survival of the human spirit and the strength of will power, I mean give me a break. It makes you wonder, whether Coelho's early experiences as a psychotic in asylum might have got him a tad bit larger dose of positive psychology than required. His optimism about things reach a near Barney the dinosaur level of unbelievable. So folks, sing 'Coelho's writings are you friend too if you just make believe that this world is a bed of gross roses.'

Paulo Coelho's rise to fame has undermined the valid point that many of his critics have brought out. Paulo's stories while inspiring to many are near fable like. I mean come on, lets face it a nine year old girl would find Cinderella inspiring too but really? So Imagine my surprise today, when I came across an article which said, that the sickeningly beautiful Alchemist, have several law suits pending in Brazillian courts for actually being a dignified and more dynamic retelling of "The Ruined Man who Became Rich Again through a Dream" (Tale 14 from the collection One Thousand and One Nights, an actual fable. This is Coelho's gift to the world. Another fairy tale. As if, we don't have enough of that already.

Thinking back on the, Alchemist I can't help again but wonder, whether this inspirational writing of the Brazillian author, had indeed been a bi product of his time institutionalized, he has used positive psychology to tell, the reader what they want to hear. Nothing true, nothing factual just what people want to know. Another thing that appalls me in hindsight of the book i liked so much before, is the sheer hypocrisy of it. For someone who claims to talk about the survival of the human spirit believes too much in the Universe conspiring to help him out. I mean, come on. This reminds me of the Oral Passive or the sucking type of Freud's typology of Libido. Be optimistic, be happy and accept the universe to keep you well fed. So dear Ryloggers, quit your jobs.. stop going to your colleges. All you people have to do is really want something.

REALITY CHECK: You lay your arms up, and want something to happen, nothing will happen. The Universe will not conspire for you, even  if you are working hard for your goal. The only thing it will do is sit back and laugh at you as you fail miserably. Thats the human nature too. If you don't get what you want done. No one will do it for you. They'd just lie back, grab a drink and wait and watch while you struggle and ultimately, fail. Thats what humans have always known how to do best. Ignore, all the bad thats happening in the world as it does not concern you. Let the kids in Palestine die, they are not my children. Let innocent girls be raped somewhere in the world, they are not my sisters. Let people be murdered in Saudi Arabia in the name of upholding family name, they are not my family. Whats happening in the other side of the world, or the other side of the room had little or no appeal to send us into action oriented behavior, for so long that its sickening. And then, people like Coelho comes out and says, go want something real bad and your fellows and the whole fucking universe will conspire and help you achieve it.. I say, what a lord of CRAP.

"The Alchemist is the bastard child of that breed of horseshit known as the Self-Help And Actualization Movement cross-pollinated with Antoine de Saint Exupéry's The Little Prince and the fundamental plot structure of a particular story from Jalal al-Din Rumi's Mathanawi entitled "In Baghdad, Dreaming of Cairo:"
                    quotes  Cantankerous M0use, Esq. in Yahoo voices.

Amen, brother I couldn't agree more.

So yes, Paulo Coelho, you are a damn good writer no doubt of it. But your Barney like optimistic illusion idea of the world sickens me to my back teeth. If we continue, seeing the world as what it is not, we d never progress. If we accept human nature and then try to work for peace, keeping that in mind then we'd achieve peace.  #averymuchdisillusionedAaiz..
                             

Always.

Ryloggers,
As I lost my phone and having being stuck with just one song in the phone you grow to love it. So the song of the moment.
Always by Bon Jovi.

This Romeo is bleedin'
But you can't see his blood
It's nothing but some feelings
That this old dog kicked up

It's been rainin' since you left me
Now I'm drownin' in the flood
You see I've always been a fighter
But without you I'll give up

I can't sing a love song
Like the way it's meant to be
I guess I'm not that good anymore
But that's just me

I will love you baby
Always
And I'll be there forever and a day
Always

Now your pictures that you left behind
Are just memories of a different life
Some that made us laugh, some made us cry
One that made you have to say goodbye

What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair
Touch your lips and hold you near
When you say your prayers understand
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net]

I've made mistakes, I'm just a man

When he holds you close, he pulls you near
When he says the words you've been needin' to hear
I wish I was him with these words of mine
To say to you till the end of time

That I will love you baby
Always
And I'll be there forever and a day
Always

If you told me to cry for you, I could
If you told me to die for you, I would
Take a look at my face
There's no price I won't pay
To say these words to you

I will love you baby
Always
And I'll be there forever and a day
Always

I'll be there till the stars don't shine
Till the heavens burst and words don't rhyme
And I know when I die you'll be on my mind
And I'll love you always

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Short Writing - 2 - Platonic.

Hey Ryloggers,
Another attempt at short writing story, this time going for more personal and informal



I winced and swore loudly as I banged my elbow on the doorway, my irritation reaching a near peak. It would be the understatement of the century to call what I was having a bad day. A bad day is when you have to sit through a butt load of homework or when your phone battery dies on the long bus ride home and you are left with no music to satisfy your boredom.  A bad day is when you have an exam and you have no idea what the hell is going on or when you embarrass yourself on stage in front of a jeering crowd. A bad day is when... well you get the gist.  What I was having was not a bad day, it is Satan himself having revenge on me for god knows what. And yes, the irony of that statement was not lost on me.


I was already feeling sick when I went to school, only to be welcomed by downright bitter grades in my mid terms. Then my friends being the practical jokers and having managed to get decent grades themselves, decided to flaunt it by having a little fun at my expense. It ended up with my phone and iPod getting confiscated, me having to take blame for their mess, a fight with the two fifty pound dork who is my history teacher, storming out of class, a lecture by the Deputy Principal. I can tell you, that did not lighten my mood, which was already terrible because of this stalemate situation i was locked in with one of my best friends who was abroad. We were fighting and neither of us wanted to give in, so we are basically ignoring each other. Yea, we are terribly mature. Oh and also not to mention that, I also ended up losing my lunch money, so I was starving. Then I went home to have a huge fallout with my parents and ended up not eating there either.

So, by the time I walked in to my physics tuition class I was hardly able to keep a cool head. As much as I had wanted to go to sleep and forget this day even happened, I knew I had to come here.  Not just to escape from the house, but I also knew that the only hope to turn this day around was here, that this was the place to be.

I knew I was proven right when I saw her standing in the corridor, waiting for me. Her bag lay thrown on the floor as she stood with her back to the wall, her arms crossed, alone and aloof, deeply lost in thought. I crept up next to her and said softly, ‘Hi Stranger.’ She turned in my direction and smiled broadly, a smile which did not reach her eyes. I looked at her, seeing my own sorrow reflected on her beautiful eyes, her usual composed and seemingly happy mask not fooling me. I smiled back at her, realizing that I must be just as transparent. After all, we have never been able to hide much from each other. No more need for words, she wrapped her arms around me and I held her tightly close to my heart as if my life depended on it, washing, pooling our sorrows together. After all, it had always been loneliness and sorrow that had driven us together. Two lost souls, two friends finding solace with each other, platonic and comforting. After what seemed like hours, we broke apart at the sound of a car horn, outside. ‘I have to go,’ she said, ‘I’d see you later.’  She slung her bag on her back and started walking towards the door, turning around to wave and smile, this time more genuinely lighting up her whole face as she did so. I waved goodbye and headed upstairs to my class, feeling better than I had all week.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Collateral Damage.

Waves of time pass by,
washing years away,
bit by bit changing everything,
slowly but surely healing all wounds and
closing all chapters.

Memories remain, imprinted on the sand,
Neither fading nor glowing
unaffected by time,
dull and lifeless
scabby carvings
on dry wood.

years have passed,
long cold winter has gone..
replaced by the summer breeze
time does not stand by,
for any one,
those who don’t allow themselves,
to take part in time’s eternal game,
well, indeed..
They become very much,
collateral,
very much damaged..

                        -A/

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