I was in a discussion with my wife yesterday. The topic was, “If given a chance, what kind of book will you write?” I obviously vouched for fiction. I have a thousand stories running in my brain all the time. Its quite obvious from the fact that I watch and review so many movies. I feel it like the normal philosophy of life. We like to read (or watch) what we want to be… or wish to be.
My wife, on the other hand, like philosophy more than any thing else. Although she is a big movie buff herself. She argued that we should read stories that teach us some thing. We should always be on a look out to find ways to live our life better than the way we live right now. So she’s got authors like Dr. DeMartini, Napolean HIll, Rhonda Byrne and Jack Canfield. Whereas my collection is adored by Sidney Sheldon, Geoffrey Archer, Dan Brown, Robert Ludlum and the likes. The only two authors lucky to have found a common shelf space between us were Ayn Rand and Paulo Coelho.
The big argument that broke out as an outcome of this discussion was, “Do such books really teach us the philosophy of life?” I had a one word answer, “No.” I couldn’t possibly relate to all the good willed quotes and sentences full of gratitude. I’m too practical to get inspired from some one’s preaching. After all, how many of these authors have had a perfect life? I would rather read about a perfect love life, a perfect marriage, a perfect lady or a man, an exciting adventure, a luckiest and bravest guy… list is endless, so is imagination.
I would like my readers to tell me, “Do you really believe in the philosophy of life written by some one else?”