39. The Lament of Abu Bakar & Then Some
If only I was blade of rye,
About to be cut by a swing of the scythe.
If only I was lost and nameless,
Nothing even to my deceiving self.
Like a book unread,
Gathering dust on the shelf.
This is one of those poems which was posted earlier (Click Here - Anonymity in the Oneness of God, Abu Bakar, Mary and that Descartes Dude). I am a disorganised sinner. You must forgive me for posting a poem or prose one day, and sketching the accompanying drawing in another posting. If I am totally confusing you, trust me that it's totally unintentional.
MY FRUIT-LADY. Well, I am not nothing. I am me. And I bet you are not nothing too. I think that so long as we are not nothing, we gotta make something out of our un-nothingness. Whatever we are doing, we ought to be the best that we can be. Below my office is a fruit seller. A chinese lady who sells slices of guava, papaya, watermelon, jackfruit(sometimes), sour and sweet mangoes, pineapples and wintermelons. Her business model is simplicity itself. Slice the fruits into the appropriate sizes, keep them in a small plastic display with ice blocks to keep the fruits cool and fresh. Then wait for the customers to come. There is nothing to it. But I have been observing how she works. Minimum movements, maximum efficiency with no wasted action as she carefully slices and dices the watermelon with graceful practised strokes. A skill no doubt honed over years of diligence. She works beautifully and harmoniously.
LAWYER? I am a solicitor, and I wonder whether I can say the same about how I work. Do I look beautiful and harmonious too when I am crouched over a contract document? Hehehe. I bet I don't. I would like to one day. But until that day comes, I shall continue to observe and study the chinese lady with her small fruit stall.
Have a fruity day for me, pet.
Pax Taufiqa.
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