Sometimes, (well more often than not) I imagine hearing unusual conversations. At times I hear completely different people sitting face to face and talking. And I find fun in summing up the range of things that they say to each other. I hear Jonathan Swift conversing with Gulliver, I hear the Brobdignags conversing with Voltaire’s giant Micromegas. I hear a rendezvous of Gandhi, over a cup of tea, with Hitler. And at times, I hear Radovan Karadzic, Mao Zedong and Karl Marx in a round table conversation. Most of the time, I come out dissatisfied because the conversation would end in a gridlock.
In this ever so unearthly world, I have always seen that most everyone is attracted to a person quite different to his/her nature. But no one actually knows what happens once these variants come into contact.
But I do not need to go far if I want to know about this. The Indian artist MF Husain, sometimes known as the Picasso of India, is also not worse known as a person obsessed with a certain Indian actress (who, incidentally, had been the subject of some of his paintings. An artist’s mind wanders randomly, doesn’t it?). And a few thousand miles away we see that Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the famed magic realist, praising Shakira (I can’t help but quote Marquez from his article in the Greek newspaper Kathimerini: “Shakira deserves a doctorate”). Only such parallels from the real world give credence to the strange longings of the Marlovian hero for the “face that launched a thousand ships and toppl’d the towers of Ilium?”
It is a spectacle to conjure up the range of dialogues that such scenes inspire. Such fantasies give me hours over hours of amusement and food for philosophizing about the end of our desires. And ah yes such thoughts drives me through my days – as if I could write on for days and not stop surmising.
However, must I confess that this daydream has nothing to do with my strong sense of feminist bias?