I’ll tell you why I like stories. In stories, heroes are for real. They fly over your city and take care of the bad guys. In their world, cops dont get kidnapped in day light, children dont die of hunger and cricket matches dont turn out to be fixed. Even when they do, the heroes fix it.
I love a hero. When you know that out there are a pair of shoulders you can rely on, out there are srton arms you can snuggle into and fall asleep, it gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. I dont deny the existence of real life heroes but the problem with them is that there’s nothing magical about them. They almost always end up on the wrong side.Not in the stories. There, they save the day and they save themselves. They are eternal. No one kills them. They have no dirty secrets. They are heroes because they are put there to be heroes.In a book, you can make things right. In a movie, even if you see your life running downhill, you can turn its course just before the end. The happily ever after is your eternal back up.

Tragically, Life is depraved of any such fall back cushion. And that is why I dont like reality.

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