Realities and Dreams
Books have always been more then a part of my life. Every now and then, I am with some new book, trying to feel it as deep as possible. Nowadays, I was going through Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. The death of Anna, and the previous incidents which lead her to it, made me feel really confused about women and their feelings. How hard it is sometimes to explain the most simplest things to them. Or is it that what we men think simple mean more than important to women, or was it just something wrong with Anna, and she was looking at things rather differently. Thinking deeper and deeper, and getting more involved with her then Alexey himself, I suddenly realized that the person I was worried about was no one but a character from a fictional novel about a Russian women. May be she didn’t even exist, or may be she does. May be she was a thought in Tolstoy's mind, or may be it was the glimpse of one of the emotional incidents of his life which was displayed in his writings, consciously or unconsciously. Why do I feel she exists, or rather existed, and died the very moment I read about her death in the novel. Is it true, that if i hadnt read that page, she might have lived on, might not have jumped ( or fell rather) beneath the ravering train, the iron piece moved by the peasant of her dreams. Am i the cause of her death, or was it destined to ? Or was it just the choice of the writer himself that she must die, or was he also helpless in this regard, as the start and end of life of every kind is in the hands of GOD, or so i heard. Confusions confusions confusions.. will they ever end ?? The only thing I can think of right now, is to stop thinking so that to get out of this trans and get into the realities of life, which arn't guranteed to be real anyways. May be its a dream im dreaming, or worse, a dream of someone in which i exist.
posted by Shan-e-Hussain Naqvi @ 2:42 PM
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