Why do I fall in love with Paulo Coelho? It's just a matter of reasoning. A very different one from the ones that made me fall for Dostoyevsky, or Seno Gumira Adjidarma, or Erich Kastner,or Philip Yancey, or Remy Sylado or Roald Dahl or a million other names I'd better not mention here to save the space. Well, I'm not trying to say that I don't love those guys as well. I love Dostoyevsky for his sharpness in decribing a struggling soul that make me think of a human being as a long list of pros and contras. I'm crazy about Seno Gumira Adjidarma for his romantic style and tender words. I will go all over the world just to read more of Erich Kastner because he took me into a journey of friendships and love. I adore Philip Yancey for accompanying me through the dusty and winding road of being a so called devoted christian. I'm at the same time irritated and astonished by the way Remy Sylado tells his stories. I am heel over head for stories from Roald Dahl: how I love Charlie and the Chocholate Factory that took me into craziest of imagination when I have very little of it, for example.
But why exactly did I fall for Paulo Coelho? This old and fabulous extraordinary man astonished me since the first time I knew him, which was only a couple of months ago. He writes from the heart. His writings are not the kind of writings that make me think of something or remind me of something or make me want to be something. He's just being so damn honest: admitting things that somehow sometimes I forget to admit or choose not to admit. He talks about ordinary things, nothing spectacular; only ordinary things that keep you human in this unhumanly world. I found myself wondering what in the world make this old Paulo Coelho can write those kinds of words about friends, friendships, treasure, love, dreams, God, disappointments, happiness.
I love the way he make me feel human, the way he seems to be able to look right into my mind. It's like hearing a beloved old friend telling you: "Yes, I know how it feels and I'm pretty damn sure that sometime it's just unbearable. It's not easy, but it's lovely; or at least it's gonna be lovely--depends on how you look at it. I've been there. Please, go through, don't stop now." But what I love most is that he never, and I mean never, tell me what to do next. He never, and I still mean never, try to show how he masters everything, or something. Isn't it make him more and more lovable?
Well, I'm not worshipping this Paulo Coelho. He's just a man, by the way. And by experience, everybody will agree that an ordinary man wlll never be perfect. He's no prophet to me, no god, no angel, no hero. Just a man. But I'm really really really falling for him.
19 Aug - 1 Sept 2005
**gile, susah ya jreng, nulis pake inggris:D**
