so

if you are really that sensitive, do you know what i feel, do you know what he feels, can you be objective, can you put your feet between us/ oh not us, there is no us, there is no such thing, how can you be so sure, how can you manifest such idea in the word/ there is a world of space between —, worlds of worlds of worlds keep — apart, there is no bridge, no dictionary/ only laughs, touches, kisses, aroma and blinks of eyes/ gentle, persistent, close(d) yet longing/ can you predict the future, can’t you see/ see that i am remove, release, reinvent myself ing ing ing process/ blind, confused, working on what i want to work on/ am i universalizing, am i–in perhaps sedgwick’s word–minoritizing him, an icon as well as the real of this strange human land/ we are on therapy

with thelonious monk
delhi, time at posted

tiny lives beneath mother nature

this morning, i was damn energetic. it was probably because my friend’s sms woke me up, at about 6, exactly the time when i should wake up. why? because last night we vowed that we would go jogging. i think i had enough sleep and thus not sleepy. there was power cut, thus my cyber world was cut, so i slept (early). it’s been months since our vow of jogging, and finally we made the maiden move. i put on my tracking pants, yesterday’s t-shirt, sneakers and locked the room. going to the stadium but my friend didnt accompany me jogging there. she instead went for the campus ring road. i did only three laps, played bjork from my mobile, which really worked. while running, i saw some ‘threads’ along the track. perhaps i already thought they were earthworms. i tried not to step on them.

after jogging, having breakfast and reading in her room, and the rain stopped, i left the hostel to go back to my flat. it was drizzling, but i thought the rain wouldn’t be heavy at least for the next 20-30 minutes. i took the usual shortcut, the soil, rather than the asphalt road. such a bad bad decision…
with the color almost similar to the soil were these creatures. same creatures with the ones i saw earlier, only this time i could identify that they were alive, or maybe struggling to be alive. they were wiggling, stretching their boneless curvy slimy body. i tried to step on the clear space, but there were HUNDREDS of them!!! suddenly i felt sick. i kept walking while covering my mouth with my hand (i dont know what for exactly). i pitied them yet wondered why this was happening to me. maybe i decided to hate these creatures.

iron

my burn marks (because of ironing) on my calf (quite identical) seem horrible. the more recent one looks more red and drier. i think the cream i’ve been applying is so strong. i hope im not making a mistake, by making it worse. well i hate the brownish one, hope somehow it can disappear..

religious tie

maybe he has the sixth sense. i know from his name that he is a moslem. i was very bored today, and sad, and ashamed, and everything. my life is ruined, falling apart. then, as he found out that i’m a moslem too, he asked about namaz. before that, whether i’m a good moslem or not (i answered no). then he said that we can actually performed 3 times there. hmm… i know. i’ve been noticing that people (men) prayed in the small meeting room. he also made connection between my bad luck and the obligatory religious routine. i thought he was right. it’s so simple. yet so true. i felt so close to him, though have known him for only 2 days…

barish

how barish is anti-realist. renders the world with illusion. the blurry layer veils the sky and everything, the waves on the street and we’re on boats, the sound of the wind they are not on screen. we are soaked for redemption

eid

oh, so tomorrow is eid? for indonesia, yes. but not for india. that’s why i will still have class. but we’ll see whether i’ll come or not. had a so-so day. watched a movie, something that is not so important. not in my priority list, and i had to spent 125 bucks. but i had a descent (not to say so-so) chocolate cheese cake and a hot dog (beef is impossible, so it’s chicken). i called an old friend, a korean. maybe i was just doing someone a favor. hopefully we students get some cash tomorrow (zakat) although somebody back there have paid on my behalf

today

post-marxism. dalit autobiography. early holywood cinema. brecht, german expressionism, metropolis (frankenstein, noah’s ark). shop kajur, made nasi hainam successfully. over quota of net. washed my mukena. eid is not tomorrow. mixed feeling. touched matress above my head with my feet. loves. loves. loves…

review on « perfume »: how insane is murder?

Jean-Baptise Grenouille was his name. in the beginning i was paying attention to how the main character was shot. his nose (other parts of his face in shade). his head and neck from above. dragged, his bony back. then  his chained legs. i was a bit scared to see his face. if he’s good looking. because anyhow we will symphatize with him despite he is a ‘murderer’, enemy of the state, enemy of morality, enemy of humanity, enemy of life and love.

it is a good character building. how jean is born in the market, where all smells gathered and mixed. how he develops his, other see it as, brutality. how people who take advantage of him die.

so this guy has a great talent in recognizing smells, and his destiny is to be able to extract and preserve them. and he’s so obsessed with a girl’s odor (the look doesnt matter but somehow maybe it has something to do with red curly hair). but she’s dead. and the story is diverted to the quest of formulating perfume from women’s body. i dont know exactly why all the girls must be virgin or white or thin.

the inspired by the perfume of the pharaoh consisting of 13 elements, out of which 12 are identifiable and 1 is not till that date, our protagonist does his experiment. but then he is shown as angelic and messiah-like amid mass orgy, which overturn moral values that uphold the society. and he barely speaks.

the obsession with smell is taken to the extreme in this movie. our smell is our soul, our existence. well, the ending can be seen as tragic, or romantic. tragic as he is forgotten. romantic as it is unusual. it can be logical also, a consequence of not having his own odor. but i really love the setting. where else can a movie on parfume be set in a place other than france?

too bad we cannot digitalized smell. otherwise i would have really enjoyed watching this movie. in the end of the day, i am on his side as i love GOOD smells. i believe that feromon decides the person who we fall in love with.

then i learned that this movie was based on a novel. and the novel has even been translated into indonesian (with a good cover design indeed).