Ever since I was a little girl, the one adjective people usually branded me with was –excited. I was always excited. Always chirpy, happy, laughing, flamboyant, cackling- and I always enjoyed it. I’ve always admired and sort of coveted feistiness.
To this day I prefer thrill and excitement over tranquility. Don’t get me wrong, I too desire long walks on beaches and empty coffee shops.
But do I love books?- YES!
But would I sacrifice a day of reading to go to a carnival with daunting rides? -absolutely!
Do I like to sit quietly at parties and observe people- yes!
But do I also secretly crave to dance wildly with the others?- absolutely!
Like my favorite Jane Austen says
‘Elizabeth had a lively, playful disposition that delighted in anything ridiculous.’
This very disposition of mine directly lured me to fantasy. Which is what I’m here to talk about. Since most of my friends think I’m only one hallucination away from being taken to a psychiatrist, I’m obliged to ramble (like I always do) about it on my blog.
I love fantasy. It is perhaps my favorite genre in the world of books and movies. I have devoured the Lord of the Rings series and it circulates in my bloodstream. Sometimes I randomly quote Darth Vader to my mom. At times I try to switch the lights on in my room by saying, Lumos.
I’m trying very hard to learn the Elvish language coined by Tolkien. I literally asked all my close friends to change my contact name to ‘Lord Vader.’ (All of them complied- with a pitiful sigh though.) Half of the pictures in my phone (3000) either consist of mountains and snowy countries, salacious humor or fictional pictures.
Although I seldom try to justify my obsession, my answer to the blatant question is-
The reason I love fantasy is because I crave adventure, in every possible form. I love a rapidly beating heart. I love when I’m out of breath (not too much though.) I love stories about dragons, and goblins, wizards, elves, witches, galaxies, battles, gods, demigods. I love everything- unearthly. It fascinates and beguiles me. And what deeply grieves me is the want to be a part of these stories knowing that it’s impossible.
I would jolly well help Harry reclaim Hogwarts or the Dwarves reclaim the Lonely Mountain than solve algebraic equations. I would prefer a battle with Basilisk or even help Sherlock solve some cases (though I won’t be of much help).
And because my life or rather anybody’s life on this stupid planet Earth can never be this thrilling, I resolve to fantasy. It gives me my share of adventure. And also some very faithful fictional friends; powerful if I may add.
So what is your idea of adventure? Let me know?