the magic of storytelling

stories are these amazing creations that can make you buy anything.

if someone sat in front of you and told you of this boy who could make a broomstick fly, dish out a patronus strong enough to deflect an army of dementors and still worry about his O.W.L's you would more than likely not believe them.

but the right set of words can do the trick. if told properly you might be able to convince your self of the possibility of the existence of a place some where that housed a school for witches and wizards, of a train that leaves from a station you can only get to by walking through a wall and of a little boy who for some reason survived a deadly curse. who knows, it could be slightly true, or may be you like it so well, you wish it were true.

that is the magic of story telling. it plays a trick on your mind and your brain becomes the story teller's accomplice, helping her, covering up for her flaws, and filling in the gaps. your brain dismisses rational doubts and tells you to not worry about the small stuff, it's just a story - it tells you. you play along, and before you know it, the lines have blurred. you have fallen for it. you like these people now, you are worried sick for the hobbits, you are rooting for aragaon, and you can't wait to find out just how the ring is going to get to the fires of mordor. its not just a story. it stopped being that a long while back, it has become a part of you now. that is the magic of story telling.

written words, leave the plane of the paper, like a dreamcatcher - throwing out these shimmering silvery blue silken threads that float around the room, intertwining and weaving a fabric, a liquid wrapping around your head, invisible, light, and yet so real. an entire world takes shape, hills rise and fall, centuries fuse to a messy blob and a single moment emerges in crystal clarity. time stops, reason takes a back seat, and you willingly fall in to the black hole of someone's imagination. you cry, you laugh, you fall in love, you believe as if on cue. for those few hours, you transcend, you let go, and allow her to lead you, where ever she desires. that is the magic of storytelling.

i want to write a story like that. a story that would take you to a whole other dimension

of a miracle that would make you believe in god, and yet fall in love with the devil.

of a love so grand it would make you want to die, and be born again, and again, and again.

of the earth maiden and her sky lover. who for eons walked together in each other's embrace, his weight would have crushed all traces of life on her, so he hovers, forever close, forever apart.

as the wind blows on her face, she smiles and turns to look at him, her gaze of such porous intensity, it breaks his heart, and his tears fall, and the people call them raindrops.

he bends to kiss her and a part of his soul, stays upon her; as she withdraws a sigh escapes her lips, it clouds his eyes and fills up his lungs, and the people call it the mist.

he extends his hand to touch her skin, his fingers walk the length of her face, her cheeks, her nose, her open lips, and .... okay as i said, am going to write it, have not written it yet :) . eventually. some day. hopefully.