I guess I am finally beginning to understand some bits of 1984. I read the damn thing long back and liked it for its literary riches. I kinda wondered why people liked it so much for its content. Its not that I was a total dumb nut when I read it and did not understand the book at all, but I am most certain that I did not dive deep into it at that time. I knew it was great stuff but it failed to strike the right chord somehow.
Now, after all these long years, when I can actually relate to its characters, I realize how deep, how intense the book was. How complex were the contents, how rich were the feelings. I now think and wonder if people around me were really smart enough to internalize the entire novel. Were they really able to relate to it and understand why they were appreciating it? I find it hard to believe that a person of 21-22 years of age with no extra worldly exposure than I had, could ever feel the pull and get gravitated towards the core of the book.
Anyway, why do I let me bother with what they did. Either they all pretended or I was really really dumb. Does it really matter now? In worst case they were not pretending. That only makes me feel more stupid and defeated. But once you start relating to 'Winston smith', does it really matter? No extra shard of defeat is stark enough to make you feel more miserable. You have already reached your saturation.
Well, this piece of blog is not meant to be a book review. I write because I have started feeling like Winston myself. And why just Winston, isn't the NEO (or Mr Anderson) of matrix pretty much made of the same soil? Always living in a suspicion that some supernatural evil has programmed him into doing what he does every day, every hour, every moment. In matrix, it were the machines. In 1984, it was the elusive Big Brother. And in my everyday life, its just so many of them. A different Big Brother in every sphere, a new Agent Smith at every turn.
Just like Winston and NEO, I too look at them as my enemies. I fight against them every moment. As a matter of fact there have been many such battles, and there have been many such endings when I feel I have outdone them, I have been able to break the pattern. But the very next moment makes me realize that even this victory was programmed. The new path which I am feeling so proud of having achieved is nothing but another pre-defined road to nothingness. The integral part of this cycle is that there is no exit, or may be there is and its just I who cant see through it. And then there is this most surprising feature. As I go through this cycle of vague victories and self realizations, the amount of vagueness in these victories starts to faint. I stop feeling that the victories were programmed and meant simply nothing. Voluntarily, I start marching towards that biggest defeat, probably the last leg of this rigor. A moment when these victories, these achievements will not feel vague anymore. As I cross this point of inflection, I shall probably have taken the biggest plunge. The very next achievement that comes my way will feel like a real one, a very real one. The one I will actually rejoice. The one I will throw parties for. I firmly believe that this is the moment I shall actually have become one of them. I shall have completely transformed.
