Subway, subways and Intro to guest blogger L.Sauron
Time
flies.Literally.
If time was tangible, it would have these gigantic dragon wings that
would fly at some random speed you cant even think of(DUH! there’s always a number bigger than the one you are thinking right now)that
would simply dump a huge pile of dragon poop on top of you every time he sees
you. That’s my perception of time. You can have your own creative 2.0 version
of tangible time (with updates)
Thinking
about time, I was late today for my music class as the subway was temporarily
shut down. The golden rule about Korea and classes or appointments is that
Koreans hate it when you are late (just an observation). I am talking
about a REAL inner hate. And they don’t hide
it. Its not like in Nepal where you come to some meeting 15 min late and
everybody will be relaxed, in “cocktalish” mood, everyone ecstatic about nothing,
chewing gum and then you get hugged for just doing so. No. One minute late and
you wish you could own a minute rewinding machine. You get this lethal silence for a few additional
minutes, a million dollar frown, some amazingly understandable Korean curses
and a quick smile to show he/she’s done. Fortunately, my instructor had to take
the subway too soooooooooo he eventually ended up never showing.
Back
in dorms I was eager to spread the news that the subway was closed. Subways are
the lifeline for seoul city dwellers and I could not help but imagine people going nuts
and running naked aimlessly in the streets.
Just ignore the last part.
Me: Man! The subway was closed today. Would you believe that?
Halal:
Whats so special about it?
Me:
There was a bloody accident. I had to take the stupid bus to school.
Halal:
Ahhhh I thought it was the Subway that we went yesterday for sandwich. Oh Really?
Not possible.
Me:
Why would THAT even be news?
Halal:
Caussse you are always thinking about food?
Me: *shuts
up*
I
have no clue about the intensity of the accident or what happened on the green
subway line but I have to take a moment think that it could have easily been me
who could have ended up inside. As far
as reports state, the accident took place in the same subway line I always took
at a very similar time that I always had to go. It is worth noting that life
sends out these subtle reminders that it can change in seconds, that life could
shit on you right there at any moment. Its just that we will have to keep
ourselves happy as much as possible no matter how stupid we might be. It is
high time I revisit my Insurance Company.
Moving
on to the Guest Blog series:
Besides
yours truly who will make sure to update the blog, there will be other guest
bloggers as well to contribute something. But today I have someone special. Its
my pleasure to introduce someone who’s been a brother to me, someone who I can
really count on, someone who’s parents are friends of my parents, someone you
end up sharing all the shit in the world
in Balwatar's chiya pasal, someone who’s influenced me to think the way I have,
someone very interesting indeed.
Guest
blogger L.Sauron has been reading massive amount of literature books for many
years now. Besides being the social butterfly and having some impressive musical
taste, he’s reading and most notably writing skills are admirable. There were rumors
flying around that he read the whole Lord of the Rings in a sitting, which may
or may not be true but even if he did read half of it in one go, I will be more
than willing to hang his picture on our
university library wall with a label
stating “GOD”. All the books that I have
ended up reading were from his personal library, although small, is now slowly
growing to include some very interesting titles. It was he who first showed me
the “Motorcycle Diaries” which eventually influenced us in undertaking the
Manang-Tilicho Trek after our A level finals. Unfortunately though, he couldn’t
come along. We still have unfinished business
with Rara which will duly be dealt with once I am done here.
Its
important to understand that the following content will be quiet different to
what I usually write down here. So you have been warned.
Without
further delay here’s his first contribution
Killers, Rapists and Freedom: A
metaphorical conclusion to Nepalese politics
Nobody cared! Everyone wanted a piece of heaven which was
above the soil and deep into the sky clad memoirs of the mind. The scapegoats:
Sweats and Tears.
The son of god was humiliated and his queen, raped. Such was
the brutality that the heavens poured some rain to wash away the blood and the
innocence of a virgin mother. There was thunder, there were hailstones and the
frozen rain made cold waves throughout the summer. Then there was drought and
the dusts powered the leaves like the snow covers a steep of the mountain. The frivolity of everyone’s predicament could
be measured with the powdered grey leaves which could barely apprehend its own
trunks. The trunks had changed with the dark of the times and ironically time
seemed to pause.
“Creative Destruction” had transgressed into the subject of
materialism, secularism, and right to express one’s opinion, which democracy so
much treasured. “Creative Destruction”
patronized destruction which again ironically failed to create. The jewels of a
golden kingdom were stolen and divided. The queen. She was made whore.
And there were righteous people who thought their impressive
speeches and word-plays failed to dance to the tunes of disharmony created by
themselves. They solicited to the rule of the middle class and asked, “What is
democracy without food and shelter?” and cunningly took sides with the rapists.
The rapists had been subpoenaed and they waited for the silent judge whom all
of the unlawful called Judge Dread. It was more of Judge Culturally Silent. The
nihilists had failed to manipulate adjudicators who in turn were so silent that
the silence engulfed the queens’ thunderous roar of misery and stupidly the
judges thought that of it to be strands of reassurance.
The theater which has no answers has no right to be equated
to the society and the culture. The cultures were ranked below gods who had
mellowed into rationalization of human consciousness and ironically it wasn’t
the civilization that tried to summonn the gods but the king, by offering gifts
to the corrupt and mundane gods.
This is democracy at its best. It is when the
neo-liberalists slam the doors of perception and provide justice through a
marriage between the rapists and the queen.
Democracy is when the powdered leaves wonder when the gods
will make the rain happen to wash off their dust. They are hopeless. Until then
the dusts are viral and make the trunks weak. So feeble that the “roots”
refused to live in a hope that death shall craft a new baby seed. The seeds of
“universal humanity”. It was then that the forest echoed with laughter and
sarcasm which they had perfected since the death of Marxism. They knew that the
ultimate freedom was unattainable and a dreamy vision which they did not dare
to incorporate into their lives. –“All destruction is finally petty and in the
end life laughs at death.”
The rapists were so arrogantly ignorant that they happened
to manipulate the killers.
You are a criminal, said the rapist.
The killer replied, “Then I ought to rape your wife”.
The rapist said, I would be obliged to kill your daughters.
The judges were silent. The queen in on the pyre. The king
is at the temple. But the gods don’t care!
And it was the wind that polished the leaves.
And the ancient wanderer sings;
This, the truth, do
not fear,
My adorable child, my dear!
And mankind shall now
understand,
All their knowledge was
but a grain of sand;
And all the ignorance
once they had,
Of which they were so
proud and glad;
Cannot help them in
this need,
Darkness prevails in
the devils lead.
-Lord Sauron
you can reach him at: llordsauron@gmail.com
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