Resumo de The Zahir - Paulo Coelho

The beginning and the end?I think the sky is my Zahir. Like a drug, it intoxicates me. I can sit still and look out of the window up to the vastness which moves and changes colours and fascinates me each time I look at it. A part of my innocence will always remain in this fascination with the sky, even though I may have lost it in "real" life?sitting in my favourite little spot in the house, the window seat and gazing out almost reverentially has become a daily ritual. The Zahir blocks out other things from my mind, and so even my writing reflects my love of the sky. I feel like I belong there, always believing in my ideal, something higher than me, and that?s the reason why I rarely lose hope. The world must think I am vulnerable, but I am sufficiently armed against it in order to enjoy the kind of life I want to lead?the gulmohar sways in the wind. I?m sitting there with a book, but it lures me and I have to put the book down, or maybe it?s a new sketch I want to get just right?but the Zahir doesn?t let me do it. It seduces me into looking at it, something unattainable which I want to conquer. But the signs signal something different, and whisper to me that I can attain it. My eyes follow the slowly shifting clouds; the drizzle wets everything and makes it smell sweet. The Zahir is deliciously intoxicating; it makes me want to drown in it, in its love?a melody rises up somewhere in a deep corner of my being, the music makes me suddenly sad. The Zahir makes me feel lonely because it is out of reach, but I can see it, I can feel the wind on my tears. The longing that I feel is interrupted?the rarely seen kingfisher has caught a fish from the small pond?it seems like a fairy tale, but I live it everyday. In the middle of this dusty, dirty city, I have my own oasis, a private heaven. The signs show me a bird soaring in the sky, stretching, spreading its wings?to me, the action is so joyful, because it shows me that a small creature like that bird has managed to attain the Zahir through its fearless flights. My flights of fancy also make me soar?until the Zahir and I meet, and it is everything I want it to be. Its changing colours don?t frustrate me anymore, and they don?t make me mad, because now they are mine, and I own them, wear them, flaunt them proudly. The Zahir has carried me into its eternity and greater heights beckon me to them. The sky gently nudges me back to the ground, but with a whispered promise that we will meet again?my Zahir tantalizes me again until I am drawn into it and it becomes my world. The beginning and the end?the reason for my being?the Zahir is a wine that few people taste, and once they do they are truly free and slaves to it at the same time.
(the Zahir is mentioned in Paulo Coelho?s book of the same name, and means something or someone which, once we come in contact with it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else.)

Shreya Sanghani.

Resumos Relacionados