“Every paper girl needs at least one string, right?”
– Margo Roth Spiegelman , Paper Towns
About two months ago, my friend gifted me one of his favourite books – Paper Towns by John Green. The worth the book has for me doubled because gifting someone your favourite novel with highlighted quotes is a very personal thing. And hence, this book got me stuck on it for the next week. I used to read it whenever I got free. My interest in this book rose because of three things – a) A gift from a best friend; b) Paper Towns was already on my bucket list; c) Margo Roth Spiegelman, the character around which the story reolves.
Margo first mentioned the ‘strings’ when she was a 9 year old who came across an old, dead man in a park. She wondered why did he kill himself. “Maybe all the strings inside him broke.” She said. Since this very moment, it lingered at the back of my head while reading the entire book. The metaphor is striking and impactful. Ofcourse, the string mentioned does not have a literal meaning as people don’t have strings running through them. But it does have a metaphorical meaning relating to the relationships between people breaking and also the mental stability of people breaking.
The book constantly made me wonder about my strings. The threads which keeps me attached. The people whom I have and is giving my everything to. The people who keeps me going. To be honest? I am not a big fan of our race. Personally because I have been let down a lot by the people whom I considered my world. ( I’m no emo, you guys! Chill. Eh? The moment you tap on new blog post option for writing your post, WordPress says – share your story. And that’s exactly what I am doing.) 😉
Anyway, there is a long long list of people who came in my life, became a part of my bunch of strings and later, left. Leaving nothing but a half cut string with a loose end dancing and contributing in my unlikingness for our people. However, few people came and stayed, holding on to the other part of the string, making me attached and helping me restore my faith in people. Well, I guess it’s something which we all go through. We hold on and let go. It’s a process.. A cycle.. You meet new people replacing the old ones.
Sometimes, the ratio of this cycle of new and old ones is not even close to equal. And when one of the major string detaches itself from you, you feel like letting go of all the other strings. You trust less. You stay secluded. Lone and content avoiding every possible human contact. Everything which is not human becomes your love interest. Life becomes an “I don’t know and I don’t care about what’s going on” statement for you. I guess, many of the little percentage of the human population reading this blog can relate.
After living such a weird bipolar life for my entire teenage years, entering my 20th year of existence, I finally titled a new string as my last string. The last try. The last string that’d either make me restore my faith and trust in human relationships or will do the exact opposite of it. The last string that will either make me hold on to other strings happily or will make me let go off them easily.
The strings get cut all the time. However, This string if got cut… would make me the Margo Roth Spiegelman of my own story. Just like how Margo, then, cuts her own string. And without strings, balloons just float away, which is exactly what Margo does. Which is exactly what I would do. She doesn’t want to come back, neither will I.
Addicted-to-fiction effect? I think so. xD
Until next time.