Inspirations

As there words fall from my mind, my hands, my fingertips onto this page, the realisation comes that as long as this page exists and these words in sequence, I will live on long after I am gone. This combination of words, my thoughts, my feelings… they are trapped on this page and as you ready this, I come alive for this one sparkling moment….

Such is the beauty of art and why it transcends some of the tangible boundaries of science with its intangible ‘solidarity’ – think of it, all the music one listens to, the art one looks upon be it a painting or a movie. And think of all you read, fiction, stories… wonderful character and lands, once created exist forever, not only in that medium but in the memories of all those that witness them, and each part of it holds the creator within, but is shaped that little differently by each reader..

So then is the secret of immortality simply ensuring you leave part of yourself behind? What about the stories one tells – of ones past, all those times one had when they were younger, or ancestors long gone and their stories?

The thing about memories is that they are never the ‘truth’ – it is what we remember of what we experienced, and as time passes the exact screenshot seems to fade, and we subconsciously fill in the blanks to what we think had happened. The good times become even better, even rosier… but then what is the real truth?

A moment long gone is frozen and trapped in the past, but your retelling of that story, that recollection will continue to live, as long as you tell it and others tell it again. And your recollection becomes the ‘real truth’. We all have stories of certain ancestors and their attributes – some so wise it was remarkable, others of astounding intellect and another as strong as an ox. And then we think of them as just that – would you want it any other way?

We do not embellish on purpose but emotions add to memories so that special holiday you had is remembered with rose tinted shades – the sky was even more bluer, the air was crisper and life was that much more sweeter than you had experienced. And so then that was how it was.

It is with our minds and our imaginations that we shape the world – there is no such thing as one ‘real’ world… there is only the world that we wish to create and to live in. As I write my stories I create time, places and characters that fall out of my hands and suddenly ‘exist’. I shape their futures, their minds and I become ‘them’ but once its over, they run away from me and await readers such as yourselves to breath life into them once more. And while you read, you are there, a world as real as this one for that time with myself as your host.

 

It is with our imaginations that we soar, beyond this one life to countless ones beyond.

 

-V Patel (March 2004)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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