A Dose of Reality

Somewhere between troubled thoughts and my will to make them go away, I began to think of reality. This word apparently signifies our existence. Look up the word reality and you will find a list of things related to life and existence. So does that mean our existence is the reality? Or is reality itself non-existent? The terms harsh and reality are always clubbed together making it “a harsh reality”- which made me wonder, what really makes reality so harsh really? Is it its existence or is it the absence of something else?

We have a tremendously complex brain. God only knows the limits of all that it is capable of. Many times it so happens that we are at several places at the same time, making reality almost non-existent. Mentally we are so present in the pseudo-reality/realities that we are totally absent in the reality. Which also means that, at that time the pseudo reality becomes a reality for us. This makes reality a very relative term. That’s the magic of the English language- you can twist it the way you want, but that doesn’t really help you escape it, does it?

Sometimes the past becomes our reality and at others, the future. The thought keeps bothering me, why the urge to escape it so much? Are we afraid to face reality? Why the rift? Is reality an enemy or a friend? The fact is that there is just too much relativity in every term. This can be that and that can totally be this. This makes it really difficult to make a point. But I will try anyway.

We all love fiction. Fiction is imaginary and (most of the times) non-existent. Then why so much love for the non-existent? Has fiction messed up with our ability to deal with reality? Has it raised the bar of expectations for us so high that reality no more seems to be appealing? When we try to compare the two there is a stark difference. Or maybe it’s just all the same, but just that one is a lot more sugar- coated?

Right through our childhood, we are told bed time stories. Almost all of them are fictional. Be it Cinderella, Snow White, Red Riding Hood or Pinocchio- we as kids fall in love with them and their imaginary world. Being a girl I too was fascinated with the princess and her fancy world, which I always wanted to be in myself. It almost became my reality. But when I grew up I realized it was just a story. Though the story made me realize the importance of dreams, it totally messed me up rationally.

Dreams help you grow in life. But to achieve those dreams you have to live every page of the book named reality. There really is no escape except for the few momentary ones. Considering all this and giving it a little more thought I feel it isn’t really that bad. Because ultimately it’s about one’s perception and beliefs. In the end it really is your life! You can keep looking for perfection or enjoy the imperfection and make best of it. After all life is what you make of it!