Sunday, August 10, 2014

GROPING FOR A MAGIC WAND


When it comes down to it, I do not believe in fairytales. I don’t because despite the need to believe in them- to at least put a damper on the harsh realities of a world laced with scary stuff like ebola- they seem too far away. I know that all fingers are not equal but why should I be the one to have the little finger? Do you see where I’m coming from? Everybody tries to dissuade me from having fantasies that spice up my desires because they seem to be sure that I’ll eventually be disappointed when I don’t get them meanwhile someone somewhere has that same thing as his/her reality. I really do not understand why having a primal need to satisfy some desires I consider basic are always made out to be building castles in the air. It irks me that whenever I relate my desires or aspirations, there is always someone to point out how unrealistic some of them are and to what extent I’ll live an unhappy life when eventually I don’t get them. I don’t get why I can’t be one of the few that actually dream, believe and achieve. After all, there’s hardly any wish that has never come true before in some era or form. Why does everyone try so hard to make you believe that wanting a good thing is wanting too much? Has the world and its people deteriorated so badly that shooting stars have ceased to be awe-inspired because people are sure that no matter how much luck hovers around them, a wish made on seeing a shooting star will never come true, not even by coincidence.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I can’t help it. I can’t help stopping my imagination from running wild or my heart from racing after it. I can’t help seeing a huge conglomerate when I think of my career. I can’t help seeing a tall, hardworking, god-fearing, sensitive, ambitious guy when I think of my future husband. I can’t help seeing a hundred postcards crowding my refrigerator from all the places I’d have visited. I can’t help imagining my kids to be awfully cute and smart with dimples and who knows, maybe that photographic memory Lexi from Grey’s Anatomy has. I can’t help thinking of wine, chocolate, sweet scents, roses, silk and cuddling when I hear the word ‘romance’ although the average Nigerian man might not even know that those things mean anything at all. I can’t help seeing myself as some “Nazzirella” sometimes. I just can’t fight the pure magnificence that these day-dreams spiked with little wishes try to sneak into my very ordinary life in which I’m being forced to always be prepared for gloom rather than for splendor.

This has little to do with idealism but I refuse to accept that I can’t possibly be one of those people that stand as exceptions to all the ugly life stories flooding walls of fame. It is pretty much ironic because I have really had very rough moments years and many might be of the opinion that I should know better. Perhaps I do. I know that there’s no rule that says I have to wallow in difficulty just because the planet needs someone with whom it’ll to prove others that this isn’t Disneyland. There’s no rule that says things don’t get better and stay better, at least for a good measure of time. For me, believing that luck, purity, dream-come-trues and just a little magic are non-existent is just surrendering to defeat. I see all the evil floating carelessly and dropping unto the laps of unsuspecting people but for the sake of my sanity, I just have to believe that there are magical ways devised by forces of nature that tilt that scale just a little in the bid to create near-balance. I just need to live without fearing that death could snag me the next minute even though I know that that is an inevitable fact. I need to find happiness and freedom in my thoughts without being reminded every time that they might not be potent enough to become tangible tomorrow. I believe in the God who says that the desires of the righteous shall not be cut off; He set no boundaries to that. Now note that there is a line between a mere fantasy and desires but there are no limits to both. Wisdom is profitable to direct.


Who shares my sentiments?