The fantasies that once were
My
brother and I grew up believing in the existence of Santa Claus. We would get
two gifts each, one from our parents and the other from the big guy dressed in
red. Of course we never saw him, yet, we believed in him. Then we were told the
truth, which we then told our cousins, sitting around the Mulberry bush. After
a long discussion, we decided we were being lied to. Santa Claus did exist; our
parents were playing some cruel prank on us. At some point, a few Christmases
later, we grew up and slowly accepted that Santa didn’t in fact exist.
The Tooth
Fairy also existed in my childhood. I would wait for a tooth to fall, just so I
could hide it under my pillow. In the morning, I would find a small amount of
cash instead of the tooth. I can’t remember if the Tooth Fairy stopped existing
when my teeth stopped falling, or if the realization came to me before that.
We were
also told tales of faraway lands where dragons and elves lived; where princes
saved princesses from their high towers. Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse
existed. We eagerly waited for our most favorite cartoons. They were not about
people killing each other. There was no romance or hate. These were cartoons
with talking animals and babies. Where the issues the characters faced were
simple. They were cartoons meant for children.
Death is
a topic usually kept away from children. An older relative once told me about
the ‘talk’ he had with his grandchildren about death. How they were slowly
warmed towards the idea of people disappearing from your life. I was never
given that talk. I went for funerals and maybe, I didn’t understand the concept
of death. I did understand though, that people died. Yet, as a kid, when any of
our pets died, I would cry. Slowly, as we grew we realized that death was part
of life. It was the way out of the labyrinth of life. Growing up isn’t only
about counting the number of birthdays you have celebrated or how much you have
grown physically. Part of growing up is to understand things and let knowledge
shape your beliefs.
Of
course, such knowledge didn’t make life easier, but it made us more realistic.
We knew the ways of life. Not always by choice. Circumstances made my brother
and I grow up before many others of our age. We may have stopped believing in
fantasy before many others. Yet, this is what stopped us from getting lost in
our dreams.
We may
have stopped believing in fairy tales but we didn’t curb our imaginations. You
can be 40 and still cry when Mufasa dies in The Lion King. You can be a mature
adult, read fantasy novels and actually enjoy them more than a child would.
However, having a clear idea of realism is not as good as it sounds. Reality disappoints. When we are told that Santa Claus isn’t real, the extra gifts under the tree disappear. We realize the reindeer and sleigh never existed. Christmas is not special as it once was. We grow up in a way that can’t be undone. The truths about life make us more cynical. We question things and smirk at what seems too unrealistic. When we stop believing in unicorns, we expect others to also stop believing. We let adulthood make us terribly boring and unimaginative human beings.
Nearly an
adult now, I look at kids with envy. They still can afford to indulge in such
fantasies. The escape from reality is still an affordable pleasure to them.
Yet, I can’t help wondering if they are given the opportunity to imagine, if
the kids of today are too weighed down by those heavy school bags they carry to
school each day.
Comments
Post a Comment