The Beginning

I was reading a book on literary criticism that discussed as to from where a text actually begins. Is it from the first mark that the author puts on paper? Or from the elemental idea that brings that text into existence? Or for those who give the author the limiting authority is it from the birth of author itself? Or as certain critics say who believe in the subjectivity of a text that it begins with the reader reading the text? This blog came from an idea that occurred to me in one moment of inspiration but then this wasn't the beginning of what this blog is actually going to be. It predates my teenage years when I kept a journal for it is that primeval need to express oneself that I sought to meet through this which is older than I am. There's this interesting theory about autobiographies that says that it takes longer to write about life than to live one. So any text that I write is more expansive than me. And since while writing this I am not certain that it would be read even by a single soul, I am definitely not going to rely on a reader to assure me of a beginning!

I have often tried to think of my beginning. And this led me to meditate on my earliest memories but childhood amnesia is a hard thing to overcome. I began much before I was born. I was never frank enough to ask my parents as to whether my entry to this world was a planned affair or not but since my parents seemed to have followed every principle of family programming that includes spacing of four years between children and a stop at production after two, I must deduce that I was a wanted child. Therefore possibly I began as an idea which was well meditated upon. From my earliest memories what I can say with certainty about myself is that I had always loved tales. Stories still are my staple diet. As a child I was fond of adventure tales---the likes of those in which a hero travels across difficult lands and find answers to riddles that must've plagued mankind for centuries. I grew up on Hatim and Arabian Nights. Since, I believe that the spirit of your childhood never really dies within you as it accompanied you with ignorance, and as one of my philosophy is ignorance is happiness and as the pursuit of happiness is a life long affair, therefore, one never really outgrows his childhood. So I still believe that world is full of mysteries and that I would get my share of adventure.

There's a reason that I began this blog with some existential question, the nature of which if one is clever enough to note is rather an ancient one. It is LIFE AFFIRMATION. I need to know who I am. One of the most remarkable thing that I read in recent times was a quote by certain prominent personality. He said that we are the whole universe that is expressing itself as a singular soul for time being. I do not know how much universal am I but the world exist at the moment for I am conscious of it. The moment I cease to exist... this understanding ends... I can be certain of total vacuum--- a complete zero or a total negation. They talk of continuity of life and try to establish as to how a human being is immortal. I take it as more of representation of over vaulting sense of self-importance and an overdose of Darwin than any answer to that void that we all experience and surrounds us in life. My mind is the world. It only exists up till where I can perceive it. Beyond that and after that, it is just a multiplication of negation. That's why the title of this blog is an example of Pathetic Fallacy. Pathetic Fallacy is defined as a figure of speech in which poet's sensibilities is so heightened that he personifies nature and appears to be talking to it. This talk is nothing but poet imposing his own emotions on the nature. Yes, that mind is the world idea! So it's not the wind that is kissing but that these writing are an expression of my intimacy with the reader that is as powerful and as hard to hold as the wind.