I am seventeen. I am surrounded mostly by people who do not have a taste for fantasy books/movies. But despite that, I've always had a preference for those. Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, Screaming Staircase-anything ranging from horror to adventure to dystopian eras could get me engrossed in a matter of seconds. Having very few friends sharing the same interests, it's always beaten me how could I have such a high degree of difference, as compared to my exposure. I feel fine, though. I hate the society anyway. Ever since I was a kid, I had always pictured myself being a warrior princess of some distant land, or a protagonist of some dystopian future, or a sorcerer in a realm of fantasy. Maybe the sort of books I read have really rubbed it off on me, or maybe it is the other way round. My longing for some sort of action, some adventure, anything differing from this mundane life might have led me to love this genre. I still do believe in those stories I made up as a kid, you know. I still imagine I'm an unaware princess, stolen into this world for some dangerous reason, and look around often every time I go out, my eyes searching for some secret bodyguard who might be following me everywhere, all the time. Even if I fall, or get physically hurt in any way, I dismiss the pain, thinking,'When I go off on a real adventure, I'd be having plenty of such scrapes and scratches. I can't be crying over every one of them'.
You might be rolling your eyes at me by now, or pitying me. But I feel that every one of us nurtures a small fairy tale in the deepest corners of our hearts. It might not be a literal one, as in my case, but a fantasy all the same. A fantasy that we are well aware will not come true. For a poor, old man, it might be to have his son sent to abroad. For a love struck teenage girl, it might be a celebrity she has unfortunately fallen in love- true love- with. Or for an orphan, it might be to meet his real parents. We all nurture these fantasies. We might pretend to dismiss them every once in a while, attempt to coax ourselves out of it, scold ourselves for even thinking about it. But we never really rid ourselves of it. It sleeps in the darkest shadows of our souls, burning a small flame, which helps us keep going. Because I believe, we all deserve a little fairy tale of our own, even if it's a tale after all.
You might be rolling your eyes at me by now, or pitying me. But I feel that every one of us nurtures a small fairy tale in the deepest corners of our hearts. It might not be a literal one, as in my case, but a fantasy all the same. A fantasy that we are well aware will not come true. For a poor, old man, it might be to have his son sent to abroad. For a love struck teenage girl, it might be a celebrity she has unfortunately fallen in love- true love- with. Or for an orphan, it might be to meet his real parents. We all nurture these fantasies. We might pretend to dismiss them every once in a while, attempt to coax ourselves out of it, scold ourselves for even thinking about it. But we never really rid ourselves of it. It sleeps in the darkest shadows of our souls, burning a small flame, which helps us keep going. Because I believe, we all deserve a little fairy tale of our own, even if it's a tale after all.
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