Beginning
Everything starts with an idea. You. Me. The universe. The entirety of it.
I had an idea too, that wrinkled my white sheet of peace. It won't let me sleep, won't let me eat, breathe or work in peace. And that idea, was to love. Or more specifically, loving her.
An idea, in infancy, is cute. Mignonne, as the french call it. You love it, you toy with it, you play with it, like you would with a kitten or a puppy. It plays back, you have fun, and you get attached. Attachment, mon ami, is where the problems grow.
Had the idea of rebellion stayed an idea, we would've never existed. Had the idea of a pure race never appeared, the world would've been different. Or the idea of destruction and displacement. The idea of painting in Arles. The idea of crossing the Rubicon. The idea of a repeating melody. An idea, is the most dangerous thing to exist, it kills more people than time does.
But didn't I just say, an idea is cute? And am I referencing Inception here?
No, I'm just rushing to my second point. And that is, of dreams. All of us dream, some of us dream a lot, some too little. But all of us do, and that brings me back, to attachment.
In my opinion, all dreams stem from an idea. When ideas grow, they grow from the soft and cute kittens and puppies to dreams. Now these dreams, they can either be sweethearts, adult selves of the cute juvenile, or completely different from their younger counterparts. I wouldn't call it a metamorphosis though, the idea has become more complicated/defined, it hasn't changed forms. It's just layers upon layers upon layers that get big enough to interrupt your peace. Like a city expands, like a person ages, like knowledge develops, and like love grows.
Loving someone starts with an idea. Then it becomes a dream. And then, there comes the choice. The choice to follow the dream.
When Napoleon found himself in Egypt, after the Seige of Acre, he made a choice. When Shakuntala was left helpless, her husband not recognising her, she made a choice. When Michael Jackson decided Thriller should out sell Off the Wall, he made a choice. Or like when Pagani decided to design the Fangio F1 (/Zonda C12), he had made a choice.
It's never a gift, it's always a deal. You lose some you gain some.
When the idea of someone loving me back first came to mind, it felt nice. It felt good. But it was still an idea, and it didn't pose a threat to my being. I had loving parents, good friends, great teachers, and my literature with me. It was enough. The idea, of someone loving me for who I am, the perfect person, the right kind of love, the uncompromising, the faithful, the exciting, all those ideas television and songs and books and social media propagated, they got to me, they got to my head. Now all I could think of, was about the idea.
And the idea grew, into a dream.
When I first saw her, a new idea emerged. Maybe she could be her. The one from my dreams. And then the dreams grew. They took me to the crossroads, and I made the choice. To pursue those dreams till I could, and then to never walk the same road again. I made the choice and I tried my best to stick by it.
Life is disappointing. Reality is disappointing. But you have to accept it. Look on the brighter side! You're still alive! Who would've imagined!?
This, is the compromise, that comes with making a choice. The sleepless nights, the anxiousness, the dilemna, the fear, faith, fervour. All of it, just because you made a choice, and stuck to it. All of it cause you had a dream. All of it, cause you decided to toy with an idea.
If you could nip the idea at the bud, you'd save yourself a lot of trouble. Or like the Romans said, kill the serpent before it's hatched. When it rears it's venomous head, it won't discriminate. But are all ideas inherently dangerous? No! That's no way to look at things, it's the absolutist way! There's no such thing as inherently good or bad, and you can't categorize ideas as such either.
Obviously, you don't know a serpent will be venomous or not until after it's hatched. Speaking for the general populace here, the experts in this case are usually the armchair philosophers (like yours truly) who will certainly differ.
So am I suggesting, we should stop at ideas? Let the puppies and kittens never fully grow into adults? Never to dream? Never to reach the crossroads?
No I'm not. You didn't read through all this just to be inconclusive and left confused. Or maybe you did. Because, I, the author, have no idea what to end this with. I, myself am a dreamer. I dream a lot, and like I said, it starts with an idea. Dreaming is an exhaustive process. The more you dream, the more there is to dream. It's the /promised land/ /swarajya/ /utopia/.
It's human tendency to take risks. We didn't make it this far as a species by being conservative. We played with fire, we domesticated lightening. You know, two of the major things our ancestors worshipped as Gods? What more proof do we need? It all started with an idea! A dream! A choice! All of it comes at a cost, sometimes a hefty one. But someone made that choice, and that's why you're here reading this. Monet could've retired early, but didn't. Hiroshima could've never been rebuilt. Disney could've never made Turning Red. Stan Lee could've never created Spider-man! Elvis could've never walked into Sun!!!
Everything has a price, a cost, a risk, but always, always a reward. I had an idea, that turned into a dream, and I made the choice, somehow both wrong and right, and I got the reward.
My advice? Dream if you can carry the risks. If you can't, well just live your life the way you already do. I gave you the idea, I hope I made you dream, now you make the choice.
That's all for this one.
Till next time.
This is beautiful
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