Bidjibah » wednesday story-time http://bidjibah.net Fiction running wild... or mostly running around Oslo, Norway. Mon, 12 Dec 2011 16:00:36 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 Jodha and the victory of imagination http://bidjibah.net/2009/05/jodha-and-the-victory-of-imagination/ http://bidjibah.net/2009/05/jodha-and-the-victory-of-imagination/#comments Wed, 27 May 2009 11:41:13 +0000 Ricardo http://bidjibah.net/?p=663 I was saying the other day how I miss writing my own words… The problem is not that I don’t have free time at the moment, it’s that I can’t seem to disconnect from work long enough to do something productive, or actually… creative, in my case. So here’s an excerpt from Salman Rushdie’s The . . . → Read More: Jodha and the victory of imagination]]> I was saying the other day how I miss writing my own words… The problem is not that I don’t have free time at the moment, it’s that I can’t seem to disconnect from work long enough to do something productive, or actually… creative, in my case. So here’s an excerpt from Salman Rushdie’s The Enchantress of Florence. I’ve been reading it slower than usual, but I really enjoy the way it helps me disconnect from the “real” world.

The passage spoke to me because I often spend time creating things in my mind, even if I don’t have the vision or willpower to bring them to life, proper life, like the emperor Akbar did with his wife Jodha.

Quite a few things have been said about the dangers of imagination, illusion, having your “head in the clouds”. Having always had an active imagination myself, I couldn’t help smiling at Minister Birbal’s argument that “it is precisely in the end that her victory will be apparent to everyone”.

The first minister and the emperor were standing at the Khwabgah, the Place of Dreams, looking out over the still surface of the Anup Talao, the monarch’s private, formal pool, the Pool Without Peer, the best of all possible pools, of which it was said that when the kingdom was in trouble its waters would send a warning. “Birbal,” said Akbar, “as you know, our favorite queen has the misfortune not to exist. Even though we love her best of all, admire her above all the others, and value her above even the lost Koh-i-noor, she is inconsolable. ‘Your ugliest, most sour-natured shrew of a wife is still made of flesh and blood,’ she says. ‘In the end I will not be able to compete with her.’” The first minister advised the emperor, “Jahanpanah, you must say to her that it is precisely in the end that her victory will be apparent to everyone, for in the end none of the queens will exist any more than she does, while she will have enjoyed a lifetime of your love, and her fame will echo down the ages. Thus, in reality, while it is true that she does not exist, it is also true to say that she is the one who lives. If she did not, then over there, behind that high window, there would be nobody waiting for your return.”

Thanks for your time.

]]> http://bidjibah.net/2009/05/jodha-and-the-victory-of-imagination/feed/ 0 Walkabout http://bidjibah.net/2009/05/walkabout/ http://bidjibah.net/2009/05/walkabout/#comments Wed, 13 May 2009 22:05:57 +0000 Ricardo http://bidjibah.net/?p=557 Lisbon, Berlin, London, Hanover, Amsterdam, Prague, Porto, Hereford, Lille, Nice, Antibes, Juan-les-Pins, Cannes, King’s Lynn, Newcastle upon Tyne, Copenhagen, Recife.

I could riddle you what all these cities have in common, but then I’d have to wait for the answer to write the rest of this entry… These are all cities where I walked. I . . . → Read More: Walkabout]]> Lisbon, Berlin, London, Hanover, Amsterdam, Prague, Porto, Hereford, Lille, Nice, Antibes, Juan-les-Pins, Cannes, King’s Lynn, Newcastle upon Tyne, Copenhagen, Recife.

I could riddle you what all these cities have in common, but then I’d have to wait for the answer to write the rest of this entry… These are all cities where I walked. I did other things there, but that’s not important today. I walked. I walked till I dropped. I walked for hours on end, until I had no idea where I was anymore, and didn’t care. Different cities, same walk.

Though I had memorable conversations with family and friends during some of these, most of the time I walked alone. I can’t really say whether that was the reason for walking. I’m sure sometimes it was. Sometimes I walked to shut out the thoughts racing through my mind, a kind of fast-paced tai chi meditation. Other times though, there was such an emptiness inside of me that my legs took up the challenge to get the hell out of there. And sometimes I just walked to see the sights. Maybe I did get a calling to go “walkabout”, and the truth is, whatever the reason, I knew myself a little better every time I came back.

It had been a very long time since I walked around in Lisbon like I did that day. Same walk, different city, it seemed. Nothing changes and yet nothing is the same. Graffitis are recycled from one politician to the next. Groceries, stationers, restaurants and banks have different names and different advertising, but their insides look the same. The people on the street look the same. It reminds me of the quote from the Benjamin Button film. It makes you realize how much you’ve changed.

I got home that day feeling better, or at least, not as disconnected from the world. I cooked a vegetable soup and baked some bread. Home is where you’re at, even if it does feel incomplete at times.

Thanks for your time.

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