For many nights when I return, late, I’ve found a donkey lying at the dark corner of a dirty street. One front leg is broken and I am sure he cannot move. Always I make a plan to do something for him, but in the morning I forget. Both my own legs are fine and I have to do a lot of work to survive until my front leg is also broken.
There is something more to this donkey: it bears a remarkable resemblance to Hussani Poweley. Who is Hussani Poweley?
Let me tell you the story of that man.
When I learned the first ten numbers of calculations,
I came to know that Hussani Poweley was a human being. Though it is a study of humanities that enable us to recognize Man, in my case it was mathematics, which enabled me to identify Humans.
My father first tested my studies by asking how many animals were in our courtyard. I replied confidently: Nine. “No there are not nine, my son,” my father retaliated with the same confidence. But according to my learning there were nine, and to prove the truth I started counting on my tender fingers: “Two cows, three goats, one mare, one donkey, one dog, and one Hussani Poweley — so that is nine.” Read more of this article »
Commuting to the Office in Tokyo
An eight-car train is sliding into the platform, making a deep, hollow sound. Here I arrived a few minutes ago to catch this very train. It is still early. My eyes demand sleep in earnest. I rub them slowly. I can see some fifty other people on the platform, also waiting for the train. There are several children in school uniform, but most of the people appear to be office workers from the way they dress. Their dark suits glow in the heated morning light of August. The train comes to a halt, and the doors open. No one gets off. I step into the train and then look at my watch. It is 7:15 in the morning.
To reach my office, I take the Odakyu Line, one of many commuter trains connecting Tokyoís suburbs and the Shinjuku Station, Japanís busiest used by more than three million people a day. Each morning, hundreds of thousands of office workers and students take this line to migrate into the heartland of Tokyo. And for them, the cityís extensive network of trains and subways provides by far the most convenient and affordable means of transportation. But during the morning and evening peak hours, taking trains and subways is probably the least comfortable way to commute. They simply become overcrowded.
But at 7:15, it is not yet painful. I leave early to bypass the peak hours. All the seats are taken, but I can still find myself sufficient and comfortable space to read a book, or just to become lost in contemplation. The train is already on the move. It makes constant and industrial rhythms. I rub my eyes again. I stand by the left side door and look out the window. The train runs through residential areas, and familiar roads and houses greet me every morning. They do not change often, but they have expressions. Today, over one balcony of a deep red four-story apartment, a white futon is already hung and aired in the morning sun. Read more of this article »