Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it...
Diya Mathur, the heroine of my new romance, Bootie and the Beast, is a die-hard believer of all things whimsical. She smooches frogs, rescues dudes in distress, bawls her eyes out as often as she gets a Swedish massage and, above all, dreams up wishes every day and wishes her dreams come true. And if desperate enough, she invokes the help of Lord Vishnu or Allah or Buddha...depending on which part of the world she is in or which side of the family she feels "good feels" for at the time...to fulfill her deepest desires.
Which brings us to the topic of this post: WISHES. And why we must be cautious of what we wish for.
So, what is a wish?
Wishing is one of the most basic traits of being human. Without wishing, there is no progress, no innovation, no evolution. Without the desire for something, we will not strive and therefore not achieve that something, however small or large, benign or extraordinary. Could be why most of our cultures and societies around the world have myths and folktales dealing with wish fulfillment. Even ethical or moral tales are nothing but the desire, the wish of a human being to be good.
Let's innumerate a few:
1. Kissing a frog to turn him into a prince.
2. Throwing coins in fountains or wishing wells.
3. Wishing on a falling star or a fallen eyelash.
4. Prayers are nothing but wishes...for safety, for sustenance, for a happy life.
5. Wishing on Aladin's lamp or a genie's lamp.
6. Blowing candles from birthday cakes.
7. Loves me/loves me not flowers.
I'm sure there are lots more. Do write down if you know any interesting ones in the comments.
Anyway, there are a hundred ways to wish and while most fulfilled wishes bring us untold joy, there will be times when we wonder why in hell did we ever wish for that!
Which brings us to me and my last week's wish. I am reading tomorrow at Lady Jane's Salon in NYC. My first reading ever and I am suitably frazzled about it. I have been practicing aloud and even taped myself. OH wow. I sound like Minnie Mouse. I squeaked and...don't ask. Just don't. So, I wished I'd get a cold...a small one and hopefully my voice would get a bit huskier and sound nice and sexy at the reading. Boy. Has my wish backfired, People. I got said cold and now I can't hear myself talk, much less gauge whether I sound sexy or not. Did I mention my migraine?
Ah. We humans get ourselves into unnecessary pickles, don't we?