Saturday, February 22, 2014
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
After reading Ruth Ozeki's book I understand Japanese culture more, a tiny bit more. Overlaying it with the urban solidarity and loneliness, Haruki Murakami's writing becomes clearer, a tiny bit.
There is always a lot of it I don't understand but that's how it's meant to be I believe. It's not meant to be logical. But it is somehow rational and that's how it's surreal and somehow you believe it's true.
If only one could truly disappear the way one can possibly disappear into a surreal world that you make it your reality if it is the only way.
To walk out one day and never come back. To wake up one day with silver hair. To believe you can be in two places at the same time. To decide which version of you is real.
It's a bit happier in tone than Norwegian Wood. But then again it has the surrealism that makes sad situations sound happy. There is a certain amount of similarity in the later half of the books.
A troubled young woman tries to find some answers while a young man who is love with her and an older woman who may love her, try to take care of her. But fail, or may be not. After all she is in a happier place, figuratively in one book and literally in the other. It's interesting when the other two people come to this conclusion. That may be they didn't fail her and may be she is happy and may be one day she will find her way back.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
I usually give myself a lot of time to go to the airport. I also check and double check that I have my passport, some money and tickets. Before I leave I stand at the door, look back and think if I've left anything behind.
Today I forgot my passport. My cab turned up early and said I should not be late and I hurried. Still no excuse for forgetting my passport. But he refused to turn around when I found out that I forgot my passport and instead went all the way to the airport to a different terminal and got me another cab to go home and come back. I managed. Rather my new cabbie managed, with trance music blasting through the cab. We drove home, picked up my passport, drove back to the airport, ran through fast track security and boarded the flight.
On the flight with my head splitting from too much excitement and spinning from two hours of road rash, the food didn't help. I was half sleeping, half reading and all the time feeling queasy.