Revisiting The Alchemist

Currently listening to Missy Eliot and watched some Fairy Tail (came across a few episodes which I couldn’t believe I used to watch on Animax. Like what the actual fuck). They even have a whole manga thing going on. I loved that shit. Lucy and Grey and Erza and Natsu were love. Except who was I even five to seven years back? Why the fuck was I reading and watching whatever it is that I was reading and watching?

Are you crazy?” the boy asked the alchemist, when they had moved on.

I read a lot of Paulo Coelho in school (Brida, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, Eleven Minutes, Veronika Decides to Die, Manual of the Warrior of Light, The Devil and Miss Prym, Like the Flowing River, The Witch of Portobello, The Winner Stands Alone) and I did like some of these books, and a friend had recently read The Alchemist and couldn’t stop gushing about it.

I decided to read it again. And I did. But can’t remember the last time I struggled so hard to complete a book. It was probably A Long Walk to Freedom (a second-hand which gathers dust on my shelf ) which I didn’t complete. I (usually) no longer feel compelled to complete a book I don’t like or lose interest in mid-way. (What’s the point? Why treat things as if they are more than what they represent?)

I guess I have become super skeptical or something, but couldn’t buy into the whole Language of the Universe and the Soul and omens which need to be discerned. I want to believe it. I can’t. I like to think that people once they realize their dreams or whatever should totally work hard for it and go for it and shit but reading signs from the universe, the universe testing you and being one with nature, all that stuff I don’t get anymore.

. . . That’s the point at which most people give up. It’s the point at which, as we say in the language of the desert, one ‘dies of thirst just when the palm trees have appeared on the horizon.’

‘Every search begins with beginner’s luck. And every search ends with the victor’s being severely tested.’

The boy remembered an old proverb from his country. It said that the darkest hour of the night came just before the dawn.

Just in case you missed it the first time.

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