Monday, February 15, 2010

Escapism

“If being an escapist makes you live your life, then why not be one?”
This is what I have believed and preached to all those who call escapism as an act of cowardice. All throughout the nineteen years of my life, I have seen people messing up their own lives as well as that of others. They are entangled in their own mess and all that they are left to do is to mourn and mope for the rest of their days. Yes, it’s natural for each one of us to make mistakes, screw up our own lives. Sometimes, we face challenges which we have never thought of even in the wildest of our dreams. Naturally, we feel dejected, frustrated. We ask every other person about the possible solutions and override them with one silly reason or the other. Deep down, we kind of like to remain in that dejected state, because we earn people’s attention, their sympathy, their concern; and perhaps that’s why we don’t really look forward to solve our drudgeries. Most of us are usually unaware of this aspect of our character, but if one sits down with oneself for some time, one will probably agree with me.
Of course, there are times when we genuinely cannot come out of the pit that we fall into, no matter how much we try. We feel tired and frustrated with everything around us – the people, the environment, and even our own self. We long for a break, literally, symbolically. We crave for a deserted place, where the only companion with us will be our solitude – no worries, no anxieties, no fears, and no tensions. At one point of time, everybody wants to run away from reality. While the heart becomes an escapist, the mind rebukes it. The mind chides the heart to stay back and face the reality, no matter how harsh the reality is. The heart being weaker and more docile than the mind, gives in to the latter. But it still yearns for the solitude, while the mind tries out every possible way to end the misery, but in vain. The suffering continues. With the gust of time, new wounds are added to the old. They say time is the best healer. But what about the scar that remains, which pricks at the slightest provocation, even after a long span of time? Time only buries the wounds under a heap of dust. When strong winds blow, the dust flies off, leaving the wounds stripped again.
Not everyone has the strength, courage and will-power to face every single thing that comes his way. Human beings are one of the most fragile and vulnerable creations of God, for they are bestowed with feelings and emotions in a far greater proportion than any other species on this planet. So what is the harm in being reluctant to face the reality? What’s the harm in being an escapist if one cannot withstand the miseries he faces for days? He has got every right to be happy, by whatever means he can afford. The world calls him a coward. They want him to be bold and brave. What if he fails? None of those noble souls will come and take responsibility of his life, his happiness. It’s easier said than done. Not every problem can be solved by facing it. Some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved. We spend our entire lives searching for the answer to the question life gives us. The moment we think we have found the answer, life changes the question. It’s a complex labyrinth; we set out on our voyage only to come back to the starting point. It’s natural for a man to feel disgusted. He needs to have something he truly wants. He has the right to experience the ecstasies of the life that he has been given. This will never happen if he is too realistic or if he submits to his mind and sticks to his drudgery. Reality and ecstasy are poles apart. In that case, one needs to run away from life, to experience his share of bliss. He needs to escape from life to live life. There is nothing pusillanimous in it. Even if he escapes into a world of happiness for a day and lives his life the way he wants to, with full mental peace and happiness, that will be of much more worth than being a ‘dumb-driven cattle’ for years.
He may be a craven for others, but he experiences something which people only think of, in their best of literary fancies – few moments of unadulterated happiness. They are the ones who will envy him, for he has got something which they can never get. If this is what they call cowardly, so be it.

“Life is ours, we live it our way,
All these words I don’t just say,
And nothing else matters…”
- Metallica.