Recently I read Chetan Bhagat’s “REVOLUTION 2020” just a random pick to pass my time, as the story proceeds to the ending , I pondered over the idea “Why I Hate to Love fiction”??!!!
Since I started reading books, I never found fiction of much interest,though it was fiction( Comic books) which formed the basis of my reading habits.Irony!..Whilst fiction prompted me to dive deeper into the world of books, there was something which held me back to love the idea of reading fiction. May be I was scared of imagining things because they let me be , which I can never be.
Problem with Indian fictional works is the common thought process, somehow or the other all share same scenes, situations, setups and thinking, it does not feel like reading anything new.
Secondly, (It should be the first one actually)
Writers these days are getting really smart, specially Indian Fictional authors, they know how to play with the mind of target audience,they know how to create the interest that can bind you with the their books for hours, and this is good, even great, this is what a good writer is supposed to do…..Stories are cooked so well with the flavor of spicy ingredients like girls,friends,betrayal, college life,middle class family, and all that drama that make audience believe that it is their story in some way, always their is a common thing between that fictional story and real story of your life.I imagine myself as a part of story,playing roles wondering if it can happen to me in real, some emotional one’s even cry and laugh with their fictional counterparts , and now this is insane. Some strange guy , who, just because can write good shit is controlling my mind, my life. So absorbed in his words , at times I lose my identity, I wonder things which are not possible, visit old memory lanes which once decided to abandon, flash backs, false hopes, and it just make life worse. Recalling old memories is as if going through the process again, process of pain,guilt,remorse. regret .
I don’t want to go
back to the
Castle of my memories
where I buried my
Lost loved one’s
I can’t attend,
Funeral of my thoughts again.
Healing wounds , bleeds again!!! Life becomes like a kettle of fish,you know it is not, but you want to suppose it is….:suppose”….oh boy!!!this word is never good…And for the worst hangover lasts few days, ruining them all.
These books can make you fall in love again, or make you feel guilty or can provoke any other feeling which is better if not revealed .That’s why I love philosophy , non fiction and every work ,which does not contribute to my sufferings . But still after so much hatred for fiction I find myself reading a fictional work occasionally, just to see if this time it has something new?
Let me know if you ever had a similar thought or your views…..