Kiss My Sweet Ashes (Part 1)
7.15 am, rush hour traffic...
I sat there drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of Pink Flyod's "Another Brick In The Wall". I had this helpless blank look staring a the impossible traffic ahead. It was a bumper to bumper jam and there was no way in the seventh heaven that I will make it to my office by 7.30 am as promised to a friend the day before. We planned to meet up at the office to go to this one day workshop seminar in Thamrin area by taxi to avoid entering the restricted 3 in 1 area. Calculating the impossible distance I still had to travel to Kemang area, fast dialing a number on my mobile phone I called the friend who was already waiting for me and told him that it was better for us to meet up at the workshop. Throwing the mobile phone to the passenger seat next to me I cursed myself at the thought of now having to think of a new strategy to enter the 3 in 1 area by myself.
We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
The lyrics shared my contemplation in the effort to draw a new route to take because of the sudden change in destination. The line up of cars started to move inch by inch and I stepped on the gas pedal in the attempt to keep up with the polonaise of slow dancing cars. The agenda ahead which was spending a whole day in a workshop was not really a welcoming idea anyway and that added a dose of edginess already built up inside me from the seemingly never ending traffic jam.
My dreariness seemed to be further provoked by the lyrics about thought control and getting a quicky 'education' from the one day workshop. I then wondered why 99% of the workshop I ever attended always lead by foreigners. As this useless wondering continued I scanned the outside through my side window. It was one of those nice shaded street in an up market neighborhood which direct to a main road ahead which for some unknown reason that day was causing a bottleneck deep into the surrounding rivers of small streets. On my right there was a nice house being renovated and I saw who seemed to be the lady of the house giving instructions to a team of workers. I continued to watch this silent movie from the closed car window and saw these workers nodded their head in uniform to the lady's instructions. I then wondered if I will see the same kind of nodding heads to the foreigner's presentation in the workshop later. I then tempted to do a bet with myself on the probability of that happened against sarcasms in the classroom.
Apart from the clutter of workers another worker stood by himself at the edge of a man made ditch outside the gate of the house. He was a middle age man with dark burned skin probably caused by countless outdoor digging jobs as I noted that he had a shovel next to him. He leaned by the wall of the gate and was reaching to an opening in the wall to take a pack of clove cigarette. I looked at my own pack of Marlboro but then dismissed the thought of smoking due to the hesitation of opening my window and feeling the heat outside. I did felt envious of this man and his 'smoking break' moment. I continued to look as he took out a cigarette from a still full pack and watched him light the cigarette. He inhaled and let out an exhilaration of joyful smoke. I could almost felt the rush of nicotine just by watching him and expected to see a further display of comfort. On the contrary and to my surprise, he then reached out for the shovel and jumped back into the ditch. As my car began to move another few inches I could see an alternating views of the swing of his shovel and a burning cigarette on his lips. The thought of this kind of working culture, mixing work and break time as one could probably the answer to my previous reflection on the need for foreign schooling on just about everything.
I entered the main road and immediately took a turn to another street to made a break from the slow dancing cars. As if knowing the beat of the road is no longer playing slow tune, my car begged me to do a fast dance. I did a mental calculation of time and distance and as it spit out the result I let my foot stepped on the gas pedal to do the mission. Knowing the immediate mission of getting to my destination was no longer a crisis I shifted my thought control into a step by step mode to avoid thinking of a bigger mission which was stuck in the workshop for a whole day.
My mind took another mental attempt to eased my edginess through melody. My fingers started to scan the playlists for a quick fix and stopped with "Takut" by local indie band called Stereomantic. The two member band's electrosound and the vocalist's romantic voice filled the interior of my car and smiling for the first time that morning I pushed the volume button up. As my car now move fast forward entering the busy business district, this easy to listen song with some Carpenter's influence blended with a pop sound gave me a mood switch and pulled me to a journey backward to another cigarette episode...plus an ashtray and two glasses of soda.
4.30 pm rainy afternoon sometime in May...
(to be continued)
I sat there drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of Pink Flyod's "Another Brick In The Wall". I had this helpless blank look staring a the impossible traffic ahead. It was a bumper to bumper jam and there was no way in the seventh heaven that I will make it to my office by 7.30 am as promised to a friend the day before. We planned to meet up at the office to go to this one day workshop seminar in Thamrin area by taxi to avoid entering the restricted 3 in 1 area. Calculating the impossible distance I still had to travel to Kemang area, fast dialing a number on my mobile phone I called the friend who was already waiting for me and told him that it was better for us to meet up at the workshop. Throwing the mobile phone to the passenger seat next to me I cursed myself at the thought of now having to think of a new strategy to enter the 3 in 1 area by myself.
We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
The lyrics shared my contemplation in the effort to draw a new route to take because of the sudden change in destination. The line up of cars started to move inch by inch and I stepped on the gas pedal in the attempt to keep up with the polonaise of slow dancing cars. The agenda ahead which was spending a whole day in a workshop was not really a welcoming idea anyway and that added a dose of edginess already built up inside me from the seemingly never ending traffic jam.
My dreariness seemed to be further provoked by the lyrics about thought control and getting a quicky 'education' from the one day workshop. I then wondered why 99% of the workshop I ever attended always lead by foreigners. As this useless wondering continued I scanned the outside through my side window. It was one of those nice shaded street in an up market neighborhood which direct to a main road ahead which for some unknown reason that day was causing a bottleneck deep into the surrounding rivers of small streets. On my right there was a nice house being renovated and I saw who seemed to be the lady of the house giving instructions to a team of workers. I continued to watch this silent movie from the closed car window and saw these workers nodded their head in uniform to the lady's instructions. I then wondered if I will see the same kind of nodding heads to the foreigner's presentation in the workshop later. I then tempted to do a bet with myself on the probability of that happened against sarcasms in the classroom.
Apart from the clutter of workers another worker stood by himself at the edge of a man made ditch outside the gate of the house. He was a middle age man with dark burned skin probably caused by countless outdoor digging jobs as I noted that he had a shovel next to him. He leaned by the wall of the gate and was reaching to an opening in the wall to take a pack of clove cigarette. I looked at my own pack of Marlboro but then dismissed the thought of smoking due to the hesitation of opening my window and feeling the heat outside. I did felt envious of this man and his 'smoking break' moment. I continued to look as he took out a cigarette from a still full pack and watched him light the cigarette. He inhaled and let out an exhilaration of joyful smoke. I could almost felt the rush of nicotine just by watching him and expected to see a further display of comfort. On the contrary and to my surprise, he then reached out for the shovel and jumped back into the ditch. As my car began to move another few inches I could see an alternating views of the swing of his shovel and a burning cigarette on his lips. The thought of this kind of working culture, mixing work and break time as one could probably the answer to my previous reflection on the need for foreign schooling on just about everything.
I entered the main road and immediately took a turn to another street to made a break from the slow dancing cars. As if knowing the beat of the road is no longer playing slow tune, my car begged me to do a fast dance. I did a mental calculation of time and distance and as it spit out the result I let my foot stepped on the gas pedal to do the mission. Knowing the immediate mission of getting to my destination was no longer a crisis I shifted my thought control into a step by step mode to avoid thinking of a bigger mission which was stuck in the workshop for a whole day.
My mind took another mental attempt to eased my edginess through melody. My fingers started to scan the playlists for a quick fix and stopped with "Takut" by local indie band called Stereomantic. The two member band's electrosound and the vocalist's romantic voice filled the interior of my car and smiling for the first time that morning I pushed the volume button up. As my car now move fast forward entering the busy business district, this easy to listen song with some Carpenter's influence blended with a pop sound gave me a mood switch and pulled me to a journey backward to another cigarette episode...plus an ashtray and two glasses of soda.
4.30 pm rainy afternoon sometime in May...
(to be continued)
Labels: cigarette, romantic, song, stereomantic
posted by yoodi djimar at 10:16:00 PM
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