...contd....
“But none of those are “my”
stories she replied “but most of those stories are made up by you haven’t read
them. I know” I said “can I take ownership of the stories that I read in library”.
She asked again “or can the librarian say that stories or the truth in his book
are his”. “No he can’t” I replied .I sensed where she was going and was
comfortable with this.
“I took them from the library of
universe. If I had received a thought then there is a sender or writer of the
thought and that writer is not me .I know I am writing, saying what “that
someone unknown” has said or written then how can I own it at all?” she asked
with the simplicity that bowled me over.
“Then what about the others?” I
asked “they are saying “it’s” theirs” .I was still fuming as I completed this
question.
“In a village comes a villager
from city having completed his schooling and having passed 10th
class. As he is the only person who can read a bit, goes through the news paper
and reads out the news to all in the village daily. But if he comes to believe
that he is the writer of that news , then nothing can be done about the
ignorance right ?If someone claims something as theirs it’s their call. I have
nothing to say there” she replied and went back to writing.
How coolly she has disowned her
works and knowledge? And those who didn’t know how desperate they were in
owning up something that wasn’t even their work.
Once in some other context she
had said
“Is kamzard zindagi ko kaise
kahoon apni zindagi, Ek saans bhi nahi mere ekthiyaar mein”
“How can I call my life as my
own .When I don’t have hold on even one breath of mine”. Now today I understood
what she meant .She didn’t own what she did.
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