Just an idea….

This might be one of those randomly insightful midnights full of sleep-deprivation, excess of caffeine, probably a good book (I don’t know, haven’t finished it yet) and the haunt of my existential crisis that lingers (WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH LIFE?). There is a little chilly, palpable breeze and the clatter of raindrops, yes, but all too mundane perhaps, nothing unusual, and all your thoughts are somehow so overwhelming that all you have to do is write about them.

So I came across this artwork called ‘Chiaroscuro’ which basically creates, or should I say enlightens the effect of something through appropriate amount of light and darkness and perhaps there was a chain of intricate thoughts and Wikipedia links as I consequently came across the works of Salvador Dali and Andre Breton and his Manifesto of Surrealism (It is brilliant how the internet has done wonders to our lives) and I was wondering perhaps where do all these surreal, obscured yet beautiful ideas come from? Are people perhaps born this way? Or is it something that is perhaps endowed from our genes? Or has it come from widespread exposure?

For it is but strange and ironical in a contrasting way that we have had the privilege of experiencing both Mozart and Beethoven, one who was a childhood prodigy, had over 20 symphonies by the time he was 19 (Me? Umm.. I’m still trying to figure out) whereas there was Beethoven who had been molded from the excruciating heat of a furnace as his father had made the poor, little kid subject to all sorts of mental and physical pressure to excel from the very beginning thereby creating the illusion of him being a childhood prodigy. Both have made inimitable and significant contributions to music. To perhaps compare one to the other would be sacrilegious. Which again leaves us to the question of how did both of them have the same, delightful and significant ideas despite being grown up under different circumstances?

There was once a very profound, intellectual idea I read from somebody (Somebody who might be reading this. Just might be! :)) about how our ideas are our particular home. Interesting, right? I mean somehow it makes sense as perhaps it is the place that we live in no matter where we are. We always carry our home with us. It maybe sparse, sometimes too filled, sometimes full of filth, there might ba sofa abandoned somewhere, roof that leaks, a window that creaks, but it is our very own home and we love it and accept it the way it is. It further dwells on the fact that sometimes we do let others inside our home and maybe then, for a short period of time, it becomes their home as well, and when they leave, there is something so significant of merely their presence that now our home may never be the same again. How, perhaps a certain idea could affect the very foundations of what we believe in and we may turn out to be skeptical, or maybe even enlightened, after the certain encounter. Interesting thought, stranger. Very insightful *wink, wink*.

Sometimes, or maybe it’s just me, it may happen that a lot of different ideas may never surface you know. That perhaps a certain idea, although it may be brilliant, but we’ve thought about it so much and the whole thought of it has been so repetitive in our minds that somehow have lost their meaning. I mean I read this somewhere that a certain writer said that sometimes when you repeat a certain word over and over and over it starts to lose it’s meaning. I mean think about this, a certain amount of significant words are so repetitive in our heads for example- ‘Exams, exams, exams…’ ‘Career, career, career…’ ‘Jobs, jobs, jobs…’ Nothing. See, nothing! Somehow it starts to lose it’s significance in the whole repetition. He further took the example of his parent’s divorce as the whole idea of separation was so frightening in the beginning but then there were ‘Fights, fights, fights…’, ‘Separation, separation, separation….’ and there was nothing! Same goes with ideas I guess. A certain ideas may be so interesting in our heads and then somehow something happens and we have to abandon it for a while and when we come back, the whole idea has been playing in our heads like a vinyl record on a loop, that somehow the music doesn’t feel the same way. Like for eg, I once came across an idea for a story and in the process of it I couldn’t figure out what do you call a doorknocker. I mean now I know that it is called a doorknocker but then at that particular instant I was devoured by the fact that I couldn’t find the appropriate word to fit that I abandoned the idea for quite some time and thought about it over and over and when I came back (After finding the meaning of the word doorknocker, that is) that the whole idea somehow never felt the same way. Does that mean that there are yet many such ideas which do not surface at all? Holy shit! Or maybe it’s just me. It’s just how delusional and neurotic and lost and dreamy and unfocused I am maybe.

But we still haven’t had the answer to our question? Where do all these ideas come from? Do they drop in from the skies like shooting stars? Or do they perhaps grow from the Earth like Dandelions? Does a stork carry them in it’s beak to deliver to out heads. Or maybe they’re just delivered at our doorstep buy a magical owl whose only job is to post ideas? I mean their might be some smarty-pant suggestions to be thrown ‘They come from the brain, dude! Haven’t you figured that out yet?’ Well, no! I haven’t. Because maybe in the world where we live in everybody has a brain right? We don’t use it somehow, but we do. My question is, from where does these ideas originate in the brain? What consequences, in retrospect, lead to its budding?

There is a very whimsical yet somehow insightful thing that comes to mind. Maybe I shouldn’t, it’s a bit too silly! But anyways, there was this random, mundane (yet interesting) thought in the film ‘Before Sunrise’ (Have you guys seen it? You should stop reading further and go watch it! Spoiler alert!) in which the lead character Jesse is asked ‘What a problem is to him?’ to which he very playfully says that he had this idea of reincarnation. That maybe in the beginning of the human evolution there were like 50,000 people, then there were around a million and now there are almost 5 billion people that live and breathe on this Earth. So where do all these specific souls for all these people come from? To actually come up with all these different souls might be a little hectic for the makers. So maybe what happens is that our souls, just like the souls before us, split into these various other souls when we die and so all we are are tiny bits and pieces of the souls of the people that we have split from. And so in this way, our ideas are what come from the ideas of the different people whose souls we have inside of us. Or maybe it isn’t so? See, this is how delusional and lost and…- well you get the drill right?

But maybe what if it’s true you know? What if our souls are split from the different people who’ve lived before us? If that is true, I wish I’d been split from Kurt Cobain man! I mean that’d be so cool, right?

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