Remember, everything is not what it seems
Age is the greatest teacher. It brings in its wake experience, knowledge and acceptance. Situations which had us up in arms during youth we now approach placidly, with maturity and wisdom.
Haruki Murakami, a celebrated Japanese author of today, states succinctly, “Please remember, things are not what they seem.”
India Ink is not from India but Egypt and China; a firefly is not a fly, it is a beetle; a lead pencil contains graphite not lead; and a cucumber is not a vegetable but a fruit!
Enid Blyton, a crusader, the star of our dreams and hopes, the constant companion of our childhood, who wrote so tenderly about castles, fairies, children and their adventures was much maligned later in life through her daughter’s autobiography in which she described her childhood as traumatic and extremely unhappy. Enid, allegedly terrorised her two girls, ignoring them for long periods of time and was not on talking terms with her husband. She has now been accused of racism and sexism in her writings where golliwogs are featured as black and bad natured, Noddy is traumatised and stripped of his clothes and there is regular mention of corporal punishment in the series on Malory Towers and St Claires Schools. It is a tragic paradox that she wove gentle, beautiful tales around children, holding generations in thrall even today, but may have been a bitter and unhappy individual.
In high school, we graduated to the Mills and Boons novels and smuggled in tattered copies of Barbara Cartland and Denise Robins to read on the sly. The taciturn, dark, gloomy heroes had us swooning and we imagined bumping into one, tall handsome and aloof, who would stare at us under brooding brows, talk in monosyllables, pursue us in a nonchalant manner and our hearts would go all aflutter!
Rebecca’s Maxim De Winter and Mr Rochester (Jane Eyre) were lauded for their enigmatic, cold, offhand manner and sense of entitlement. Not for them casual banter or laughter with their girl. They were distant, sometimes a little cruel and withdrawn. As youngsters, we believed in these characters and not knowing any better wove our foolish dreams around them.
Today I am not so sure. Actually, I am certain that I want my man to be someone who can laugh at himself and with me. I want him to be sport, make light of my gaffes and not give me the silent treatment, underlining his disapproval, a la the heroes of our teenage romantic books. I want him to be friendly and down to earth. I want to have an equal and fair relationship with him, sincere and honest.
The quiet and silent, handsome and standoffish type make for exciting reading, with an imaginary woman dealing with his quirks between the pages of a paperback, but give me a warm, fun loving, easy going type every time, not necessarily tall, dark and handsome!
INDIA INK IS NOT FROM INDIA BUT EGYPT AND CHINA; A FIREFLY IS NOT A FLY, IT IS A BEETLE; A LEAD PENCIL CONTAINS GRAPHITE NOT LEAD; AND A CUCUMBER IS NOT A VEGETABLE BUT A FRUIT!