The Reluctant Creativist
I observed a strange phenomenon at work recently. It lead me to realize something, something about myself and like all great realizations, the process of it shook me to my core. I realized what cause I want to stand for. All of us stand up for something; a belief, a cause, a movement, that is no less than a fiery passion for us. It is what drives someone to go in to chaotic war zones and offer medical help or build an organization that feeds millions of hungry mouths. From gay rights to feminism, banning the plastic to saving animals, we all feel for something with all our heart and energy. I always found it hard to decide what cause I feel for most about. Yes, there are a lot of things I believe in but I could never find that one thing I want to debate and fight for, bearing its burden mentally, physically and emotionally.
I’d like to tell a small fiction story to explain my big and real observation. I feel stories help us connect better than anything else.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“In a different galaxy, a different time, there existed a place called Agnoia. It was like any other place except that Agnoia was a grey world, devoid of all other colors. The people of Agnoia knew nothing except shades of grey, black and white. Their sun was a blazing white, their trees all shades of grey and so were their bodies. They heard of worlds where there were infinite colors. Many lived and died in Agnoia imagining what a colorful world would look like. Stories told and songs sang of colors bright and light.
On and off people would try to produce colors. Some managed to come up with a chemical called Synithis that anyone could buy and color up things around them. However, it was only a temporary effect and the colors would soon fade away. Synithis confused the people of Agnoia even more as it produced a new color every time and they could never develop a learning of or comfort with any color. However, devoid of any other solution Agnoia relied on Synithis for centuries. Every new generation thought this was the only way to experience colors, they considered it normal and it never bothered them.
There was a man named Dimiourgikós who thought differently. He had an idea of creating his own colors for Agnoia rather than trying to replicate the colors of the other worlds. He tried to gather people to help him but no one believed in his vision. People called him stupid and unrealistic. Determined, he spent years studying the field of colors and after sleepless efforts, he came up with a solution that would produce permanent colors of all hues and shades! He called it Dimiourgikótita. Ecstatic, he ran from house to house showing them the new colors he had made through Dimiourgikótita. He loved his creation with all his heart and told people about the immense possibilities it held for them.
People refused Dimiourgikótita despite seeing the bright and brilliant colors. They raised all sorts of issues; the new colors were too different from those produced by Synithis, the process of Dimiourgikótita was much harder, it would take so much more time. Dimiourgikós tried till the end of his life to convince the people of Agnoia but only a handful believed him. The rest said they were comfortable and content with Synithis and didn’t need anything better. Heartbroken Dimiourgikós never introduced any new colors; inside his house he produced so many. He cried with every new color he made from both, happiness and sorrow. He wanted to set his colors free, wanted to see them on the streets of Agnoia; instead he kept them boxed up. Dimiourgikós passed away with a beautiful palette of colors and Dimiourgikótita clutched at his heart while the world of Agnoia lived on in grey.”
Agnoia means ignorance, Synithis means ordinary, Dimiourgikós means creative and Dimiourgikótita means creativity.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Since the advent of man, we have relied on creativists to lead the world towards things new and better. Frank Lloyd Wright designed buildings that revolutionized the way we look at structures. Iqbal and Nietzsche gave philosophy an untouched depth. Nelson Mandela, Jinnah, Hitler; all influenced huge masses because their ideas and beliefs were original and hence, powerful enough to gather a following. It is the original thinker who fights the world out of darkness without any weapon but the power of thought.
Sadly, these are the very people penalized the most. They are rejected and demotivated and we accept this ordeal as a per-requisite of being able to do something great. While these great names and many more are the ones who were able to bear all this but there are still more who are slowly losing energy. They are making their ideas tamed and executions ordinary because that is what people want to see, are resistant to change and love the status-quo.
When the original thinkers, the creativists of the world start to hesitate, is the time that is darkest. Observing these energies, once vital, fade around me shook me to my core. That’s when I realized what I want to fight for till the end.
I support the reluctant creativist.