Bidjibah

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.