Metronomy

it's funny...or so i think.

Care!

The old woman was seen crossing the road, with a blue colored umbrella in her left hand. The sun wasn’t being very nice either, it was ferocious, and it didn’t seem to care. The cars, buses, the heavy vehicles flooding the roads, they all gushed along and didn’t seem to care. The observant juvenile sitting at the bus stop, because he didn’t know where to wait, he at least thought he didn’t seem to care about what others might think--all the while witnessing the happenings around him.

The old woman now managed to cross the road was seen on the other side, now accompanied by her husband only as old. They awaited there standing in the hot sun. They were getting on the bus together; the bus signified the reeks of smoke and poverty, of classlessness and humility.

The beggar with one working eye sitting on the dusty roadside with a crumpled metallic cup in front of him, laid down there to seek sympathy. The beggar though had resentment in his one eye and when people walked by he didn’t seem to beg, he didn’t seem to care.

The motorcyclist just got hit by a car, now the cause of a massive jamm. A source of entertainment, a scary sight, a time for contentment, a time to feel bad for a second, a lesson to some, a time for cussing for some…but none got of their cars, it was as if they didn’t seem to care. Fellow motorcyclist reaching out in help and some were seen uneasy on the phone trying to probably reach the ambulance. The body now brought to the sidewalk and covered with pages from the newspapers. Now dead, the traffic seems to go about as usual. Death arrives in a shocking approach; Taking the soul away out of the realm of deceptions.

The juvenile shocked and saddened from what he saw. So shocked and weakened unable to be awakened.

The day turned late, a few minutes went by and there appeared the slum, play time for the poor kids out of their dirty flats; encircling the street with their cheap two wheels; dangerously—maneuvering, recklessly and daring; as if to proclaim, death don’t scare me!

It was then dawn, another group of kids seen to be on their feet, walking in a broken line, so nonchalantly; oblivious to the tragic future that awaits them… Their dirty uniforms, their passed down school bags, ragged and thorn, their malnourished features, a sight of disgust; but the smile on their faces so genuine and pure, regardless of what awaits them in the future a child rejoices every minute of light.

The juvenile than noticed a dispatch on his bike, stopping at the side to have a moment to himself, puffing on the cigarette, as if giving meaning to life. The juvenile looked into his eyes and saw; this indignant, now pride-less office boy, ordered around like a fool with strings tied to his limbs. The look of remorse, the look of rage, the look of regret, and the look of failure…the fate of his carrier already assumed in place. The crooked, the sleazy, the prosperous fuckers, dresses so well to conceal their ugly faces, obviously without a care but for themselves, unaware of the presence and of the timid transporting animal.

The juvenile stood up and shook his head, letting out a deep sigh within himself. He looked without hope, losing all will and extending his hands towards the skies, praying aloud for a cycle of change.

Unable to answer, why the old do suffer? Why the poor then hunger and the weak constantly in terror? But the selfish and greedy lives happily ever after. When ignorance and arrogance rule the world, the hopeful and faithful appear idle.

Wait, the world is but a test, Says the believer….

“To me it seems that to give happiness is a far nobler goal that to attain it: and that what we exist for is so much more a matter of relations to others than a matter of individual progress: much more of a matter of helping others to heaven than of getting there ourselves.”

Lewis Carol.

Review kot

I managed to finish yet another book. I don’t know why but every time I do, it appears like a big deal to me. It could be the lack of belief in myself or something else. Over the years I’ve read many books almost without prejudice, hence no matter whom the author or what the genre… I would be more than happy to read it—except for Tom Clancy’s or anything similar to that. In doing so I also developed interests in certain genres and writers. Today, however I only read materials that are either really entertaining, according to preferred genres or by authors who comes highly recommended or authors whom books I’ve read before.

Although I do read for the sake of entertainment, I rather think that I read to gain a wider knowledge and perhaps gain a better perspective on things. Knowing that I am about to learn something new and that I am doing something beneficial adds to life being a tad more productive.

I too have gained an interest in reading books by foreign writers, by foreign I mean not from the states or the UK. And when it comes to Malaysian authors, I become prejudiced and immediately my interest in reading them crashes down…maybe because Malaysian writers are crap. I do read Kesusasteraan melayu though, I had to at school and upon reading I discovered the wonders of reading. In other words, because of that I started reading; I owe it all to kesusasteraan.

Normally I don’t write about the books I read but this one, this one deserves a few commentaries at the least. As you may know already, by reading certain materials…the contains at times might influence/effect one’s mind for a brief period especially during and right after finishing it.

I too have a penchant on reading books by Japanese authors such as Junichiro Tanizaki, Haruki Murakami and a few others. This one if I am not mistaken was the first of a Japanese woman author (Natsuo Kirino). Knowing that she authored a few other books that have won or at least been nominated at prestigious book awards increased my interest on wanting to read it.

If you’re familiar with Japanese books, the novels are normally written in the form of a memoir and are more than often deadly honest, either that or I just happen to read books such as that. The writers too appear Uncaring on what others might think. This to me is impressive.

Okay enough of rambling; this particular book is entitled ‘Grotesque’ I knew that these authors were as honest as one gets as I mentioned before and to give you an picture, by honest I mean, any flashing or brief thoughts will also be accounted for which goes to show that their attentiveness to details.

Maybe I am just being sensitive or overwhelmed because I just finished it. But although I am clearly exaggerating here, I would go as far to say that it took a little part of my soul away.

As u read along you’d notice a deep sense of loneliness in the characters and how each and everyone compare themselves to others and how they seek acceptance. Even though it reeks of realism and everyday life, I can’t help but notice the pessimism in the author. The book, as you read and think that it couldn’t get any worse, just gets worse. To put it simply it’s gets pathetic, even more than pathetic and reaches beyond pathetic as you go along.

It also notifies on how the cold classist society that we live in begins from a very young age and nurtures one to become the accordingly when they grow up. Time and time again the characters cease not to point out that one’s fate is decided the day it’s born.

And I as a reader, as I try to escape the harsh and cruel realities of life by means of escapism through reading, the reader is pulled into an even crueler revelation of life.

It also gives an impression that no matter what u do by profession, how beautiful you are you will end up old and old age becomes a wicked realization in the end all one would succumb to; is an empty hole and a meaningless life and will have to live according to what is set by society; Leaving death as a release.

And that no matter how rich, smart, beautiful, talented or pure one will succumb into becoming a slave for material and petty rules of society, in this book prostitution.

While the oppressed remains oppressed the oppressor too is oppressed

Having said all that I have, I would like to add that people or authors lacking in belief and spirituality can only get so far, despite having an in-depth consciousness, precision in life and a high level of intelligence. A person without spirituality can go as far and still remain empty.

Lastly I would say that this book is basically a whirlwind of expressions concerning the reality and sadness of life. One might think that it is overly done and overly dramatized but it is simply the truth of the worsening condition of the current state of society.