…Fortunate Son
What is the reason we have history? This is a qusstion I’ve
heard asked so many times and each these occasions those
who asked the question and those who were asked all had
different answers in mind. Some said it is so that we have
a reminder of the errors that our forefathers had done so
we do not repeat them. There are those that said it is so
that we know the reasons of why it is as it is in our present.
These are some of the politically correct reasons on why
we have history. What is unspoken but truly experienced
by everyone is that we have history to keep score of our
deeds to others and the errors others have done to us so
that we may claim retribution and justify anything we might
want to do to others so that we can take pride of what our
forefathers had done even though we have no right for the
credit. History is the construct of the collective experiences
of of human society, A sort of shared memory of the species,
though as a society, we forget as an individual would forget
the happenings of a previous day.
Time and space could not contain this urge and yearning to walk the crowded streets in the sweltering day or the silent and lonely backlanes in the dark night.
This explosion of thoughts and desire to grasp the burning collars of reality with my dirty bare hands and shake what I want into existence.
This burst of longing for complete understanding comes in two forms to me, delayed and sudden.
of course the song that we sing now must end someday but until then, it will be the most beautiful of all. Garnished with sorrow and joy, pleasure and pain. A hot day ending in rain.
our heartbeats and footsteps are the rhythm and the constant hum of thoughts in our head as the current melody signifies the presence of each other
we complete each other’s song and none is leader of our dance.
we are a singularity of two.
I wrote that inspired by the song ‘A Slow Dance’ by the band Explosions in the Sky from their soundtrack album of the film Friday Night Lights.
Actually I wrote that with the intention of turning it into a short story but honestly I lost interest because it was hard to sustain the melody and theme of the first few sentences to the end.
I might try though one day.
I am certainly sure that if I had finished it then and there when I had the energy and interest, it would certainly look different.
In short what actually I tried to write was a story of a married couple who through cybernetic means became conscious and aware of each other’s thoughts, like the real story of the British researcher that inserted a chip into his wife and himself. They did this in order to feel each others’ environment.
The frame of the short story was thus:
Everything was to be written in the first person combined, meaning the voice of the narrator telling the story would be actually be the combined voice of the couple.
This was because in my reality of the story, they had lost each of their individual identity and assumed the identity of their combined self.
So, my gift to you is that; I give liberty in using the material i had put down here to do whatever you want with it. do a poem, a story, write a song, make a painting, a movie, an animation, anything . go nuts!
Put me in the credit and and give me a link to your work in the comments. and don’t forget to whatever you did with mine public. M<ake it shareable like i did if you want to, make it not if you don’t want to.
Go Nuts!
current favourite song
There is a plum ,firm and round, in my pocket. It was given to me by my love but I had forgotten about the fruit. Sitting in the packed minibus, I felt something slipping out of my pocket, caught it before it fell out. At first I thought it was a stress ball from the office. But with the knowledge that with each feel I’m making the plum less firm and round, I decided to leave the fruit be, and sipped my bottled tea. Each swallow of the now tepid liquid on my harsh throat was like a plot of neglected land with flowers growing wild, budding, blossoming and then wilting.
Could not drown the noises of the bus as my walkman had no power. So I listened to the rhythmic sounds of the chatting Bangladeshis. First I listened to find any repeating words that would be a way for me to know the topic of their discussion, a place, a name, anything that would help, alas no, the language was opaque to me. Everything sounds like the repetitions of the same syllables, just in different combination. Then I remembered snatches of the bits of what I knew of Bangladesh’s history. How wanting to make their language the official language of their country actually started the secession of their country from Pakistan’s rule at the cost of three million lives. So let them talk in their language all they like, they have earned it.
Got off the bus, waited for my ride, ate the plum and played some New Super Mario on a loaned DS lite, trying to remain inconspicuous among the crowd.
Six foot me with a portable game machine, leaning on a column, eating a fruit. Like a fruit among vegetables, the same but different. Leave the fruit be.
One Saturday evening after coming back from a charity event at a home for children with HIV/AIDS, while going to Berjaya Times Square to check out some MYR195.00 Seiko watches. On the way there my girlfriend and I walked on the set of a video shooting by my favourite Malaysian band, Butterfingers. Sorry guys. I really thought they were busking, was going to say hi when I saw Emmet the singer crossing the street towards some camera crews that were filming. Nothing to do but give my thumbs up. I hope I didn’t ruin anything.
Stopped at Low Yat looking for some stuffs, bought them and My lovely girlfriend thought it would be nice to have some sushi.
I completely agree with her, but doing so would make us very late and seeing that we already had lunch, I said to her maybe after Times Square.
Looked at the watches,went to another shop, saw a limited edition watch that was half a thousand more than the non limited version of the same series. With the only difference being the use of the colour green on some elements of it’s typeface instead of orange on the normal one.
Saw some other watches that I liked, but any perfect match would have been a composite of parts from a few of them, the face from one, the bezel from another, etc. A childhood on LEGOs and customisable Swatch watches ruined me.
Went pass the cinema on the way to the Cold Storage, did not see anything worth watching.
After buying a drink, went up one level to survey the prices of these sets that the perfume counters were selling. Nothing of note though.
While walking past the main entrance, saw that there was a promo done by Sony Malaysia of their new Walkman variety, The A series with the wireless (via Bluetooth) headphones. The GF inquired about the availability of the replacement rubber fittings of their earbuds. Knowing that it was overpriced and the unlikeliness that these marketing drones would ever know. I kind of already knew the answer.
I remember these in ear rubber fitting being sold at the Sony Style shop at KLCC in the under MYR100.00 range, I however held the opinion that they were more likely worth at the under MYR10.00 region.
Looked at these Walkman(men?) they were promoting, it was interesting but my own Walkman is still new and the bluetooth headphones needed to take advantage of the wireless capabilities are sold separately and tend to be expensive. I’m no audiophile, but I doubt that a bluetooth headphones have the same sound quality as a wired one with the same price.
Going back from Berjaya Times Square, saw that we had some time to spare, went back to Low Yat’s Sushi King.
Maybe they had a change of personnel or management because the service was not up to the standard I’ve had Sushi King. This is more like some nameless shop you go to because everywhere else is crowded.
Service was so slow, we were gesturing for ten minutes before a waitress came and waited on us. Also when our order came, they had forgotten my miso soup, I had to remind them, and the soup only came halfway through my rice
Had some Broiled Eel with rice (Una-Don) while the girlfriend had some noodles. We ate some of their Salmon Sushi (Sake Sushi). Everything was OK quality wise, not fantastic, nothing to rave home about.
They must for safety’s sake change their soup bowl to earthenware instead of plastic. Wait, shouldn’t it be the other way around you ask. Well after after finishing my bowl of rice, I was eager to have some soup. I picked up the lid only to see the bowl was still attached with it. Then it could not resist gravity anymore, and promptly spilled it’s high temperature contents on my stomach and left lap.
I let out a little yelp and tried to stem the soup’s flow with the inadequate assistance from Sushi King’s paper napkins. The girlfriend hailed a waiter over in panic.
He promptly came over with a cloth and wiped away what was left of the soup from the table and took the bowl away.
what I think happened was that when after the soup had came, I didn’t open it’s lid to equalise the pressure of the air on the cooling broth and the air outside the bowl. Then the condensed steam was collecting between the bowl and lid forming a seal. so when I was picking up that lid, the air inside the bowl had a lower pressure than the air outside it. The same when one pulls back the piston of a syringe, the medium, in my case air, that have a higher pressure would rush in to fill a vacuum.
A small airhole on the lid would had made all the difference. To their credit though, Sushi King replaced my soup at no extra charge.
Next time I’m going to open any lids, expect me to use both hands, one manipulating the lid and one holding down the container.
finished my meal amidst the strange request of the customer nearest to my left. The man was asking for some chicken skin, the waiter actually went to the kitchen to ask his cook only to return and give a repy in the negative. Anyone for some chicken skin sushi?
After that, we went to the magazine shop/sundry shop/cybercafe on the corner between BB Plaza and Low Yat. It was there that I had found a periodical that dwserved more attention. A magazine named Monocle, selling for MYR15.90 even when the printed price on it is USD10.00. The same price for editions old and new.
What had caught my eye is the quality of design it employs on it’s coves. The photographs used are remarkably different in style and composition. What would come close in terms of aesthetics are covers of architecture magazines. There is a sense of timeless elegance.
The Monocle covers that I saw did not feature any celebrities, instead opting for instance, a well dressed Japanese man taking a picture of the front of a Shinkansen, or another that had a model looking though the viewfinder of a old looking camera (that I found out later is a new Fujifilm Klasse W) as if that is his monocle.
I bought one, the one that had the bullet train on it because I like trains.
There is a fine line that the magazine threads on very well. That slim line between true appreciation for quality and the smugness of elitism. The choice of articles are very refreshing in scope and depth for a current issues magazine, but at least it does not cover the same boring things as other magazines that seems to be too geo-centric to their publisher’s head office.
This magazine simplifies it by breaking up their sections to the alphabets A for affairs, B for business, C for culture, D for design and lastly E for edits and expo. Then throws in an extra Japanese manga for good measure.
A solid buy if not for the price. GBP5.00 for one issue and GBP75.00 for a year’s subscription of 10 magazines and access to their website.
Hope that shop in Bukit Bintang maintains it’s pricing…
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