Storyteller

Love me, hate me, but never ignore me.  I’m just intolerant to ‘Ignorance’. From the time I’ve seen ‘Tamasha’, I have gained more confidence and that I too am good at Storytelling.  Unfortunately enough, I didn’t do this to my bosses, about my performance or contribution.  Neither to my wife, even when I came home sometimes – inebriated. I know my friends would agree that I do offer some twists in my tales, even if it is from a very mundane activity, as gazing at the bedroom ceiling.

I am convinced that Storytellying, like everything else, doesn’t happen naturally. You need to cook up, feel for the ones in front of you, be really, believably, and ruthlessly ‘fake’.  Drill down into your head, nobody wants to hear from you what happens, what will happen and what does always happen. Be so unreal that the fantasy drives you to become what you are not and not into what you always are. Life is worth living, only when we seek a bigger, better future.  Not ever for a predictable, and demystified flat course of living.  Bumpy, it should be and would be and, only then, and only then, will life be worth living.  Too predictable behaviours or life like it, is nothing more than that of a guinea pig. Who would like stories that were all rabbits, or all tortoises, or all piggies or all penguins. No spice no life and so life would be dead without spice.

Drop your hats, conformity is not what the society now needs. Society now needs inspirational therapies. A time tested therapy which is available to us for generations and generations, old and new, beyond cultures. Every culture holds it highly in its very tradition. Very important tradition, to pass on the baton of the ‘DNA’ of humaneness, and it is concisely consummated, in and as Story-telling.

In spite of any work that we do, this is ultimately the one thing we all yearn for, the time we would like to spend with our dear ones to express our fantasies, as Storytellers.