“It’s when you learn what real hardship is.”
I wanted to ask Ginko when that hardship was coming for me, and what form it would take. And I wanted her to teach me how I was supposed to let it into my life when I had no-one to share it with.
*******
“Know why my parents called me Chizu?”
“No, why?”
“Well, the chi part means wisdom, right? And zu means long life. So, my wisdom is supposed to let me live a long life.”
“What a nice name.”
“But I still have, like, zero wisdom.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, none. Oh, since moving in here, I did learn that if you stick the lid on a pot upside down you can put another pot on top.”
“Well, that’s pretty useful.”
“Oh, and that people change. Especially the parts you wish would stay the same. And the parts you do wish would change, don’t. I wish I knew how to make it the other way round. That’s the kind of wisdom I want.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, Chizu.”
When faced with true sorrow, people lose even the strength to shed tears.
*******
am deschis cartea de curiozitate, in voxa; o cumparasem mai demult, in format kindle insa o tot amanam, pentru vremuri speciale.
curand, m-am trezit ca am terminat primul capitol. probabil ca a fost ca un fel de transa. sete. sugativa. absorbeam cuvintele uscate pe pagini in format digital.
apoi, resemnandu-ma, mi-am zis sa le citesc in paralel – spre a le compara si ca sa incerc sa ma simt mai aproape se varianta originala, in japo – dupa cum am facut si cu butter/ unt – asako yuzuki, si cateva alte carti.
diferentele au fost putine, insa una in deosebi.
imaginile si explicatiile sunt construite cu maiestrie – desigur, citind se creaza conexiuni, scenarii si ipoteze. insa toate se confirma si se prabusesc concomitent, intr-un ultim capitol absolut maiestuos.
le-am terminat intr-o noapte, iar uketsu si cartea isi merita pe deplin faima, laudele si premiile. daca nu as fi recitit “contele de monte-cristo” si “pe aripile vantului”, ar fi fost, poate, cartea anului. este, cu siguranta, cartea anului in categoria cartilor ce nu pot fi incadrate (ma distreaza nespus aceasta categoriseala-oximoron).
The people trooping down the street without even a glance in my direction looked like figures in a pencil sketch – scraps of paper that might, at any moment, be scattered by the warm breeze. But before I knew it, I could feel those flimsy scraps making shallow cuts in my skin. I sighed, folded my arms tightly across my chest, and, eyes downcast, set off at a brisk pace.
*******
“I think I used up a lifetime’s worth of anger back then.”
“A lifetime’s worth?”
“Yes. I don’t really get worked up about things anymore.”
[…]
“I feel like maybe I should use up all my sadness now, while I’m young. So I don’t end up all miserable when I’m old.”
“No, Chizu, you can’t go using it all up now. If you try and save all the fun for later, you’ll be my age before you know it, and dying will seem like a pretty grim prospect.”
*******
Sometimes, when I sat opposite her eating dinner, I’d feel like I’d suddenly aged dramatically. When someone has been alive that long it can feel like they’ve stopped ageing entirely and it’s just you catching up with them…
I felt suddenly lonely, in the anxious way that nostalgia always seemed to trigger.
*******
White petals were fluttering down onto me from the cherry trees in front of the station. It was depressing. What was the point in a season like spring that couldn’t make its mind up? Even when it was sunny, there was always that lingering chill in the air, like the weather was making fun of you.
*******
“Water boiling in an empty kitchen – is there anything so sad?”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t you think that’s nice?”
“What . . . is it?”
“A haiku. My niece won third prize for it in middle school.”
“Water boiling . . . wait, how did it go?” “Water boiling in an empty kitchen – is there anything so sad?”
“Right. Sort of . . . melancholy, isn’t it?”
That was what really made my face burn with shame. Because of me, an ambulance had come speeding down the peaceful market street, no doubt frightening all the people shopping. And then, to top it all off, I was just blithely snoring away. The agony of just imagining it was enough to make me faint.
[…]
Ah, what an idiot I was. Look what I put these kids through. I’m not the only one who knows the grief of losing someone. I’m surrounded by people who have been scarred by losing someone they hold dear. Now I’ve selfishly gone and made them worry about me, these kids who are much younger than I am—and more delicate.
*******
It might sound funny, but it felt like when I collapsed that day, the evil spirit that had been lurking inside me for so long finally left my body. It was as if I’d somehow peeled away the thick layer of skin wrapped around my heart. Now I felt like I’d been reborn. Was my body trying to teach me something after I pushed it to its limits for so long? That’s how it felt.
*******
But I think everyone’s secretly struggling. And we’re still struggling too, even now, but it’s only because we’re still alive that we’re able to go on struggling.” Utsui laughed lightly. “When you think about it, isn’t it wonderful to be alive?”
*******
* acesta sensibilitate innascuta de a nu deranja si respectul pentru “ceilalti”
* subiectul “burnout” intr-o societate faimoasa pentru efectele suprasolicitarii la locul de munca
* perspectiva inversata – zbuciumul existentei ca semn de traire.
I mean, it was weird. My mother shouldn’t be here. She died three years ago. After a brief battle against her disease for less than a year, she left me all alone. So then how could she be back in the apartment, looking every bit like she still lived there, ironing laundry like everything was perfectly normal?
*******
“I’m dreaming, right?” “You are.” “What the—” “Isn’t it nice, though, even if it is a dream?” Her voice sounded so carefree that it ended up making me relax too, somehow. All right, fine. I plopped down in front of my mother. We were both bathed in the reassuring light of a Bonnard painting.
*******
“A rose doesn’t bloom to be beautiful, it’s beautiful because it blooms with all its might.” It’s a line from a movie by the king of comedy, Charlie Chaplin.
“If you’re supposed to be a shade tree and watch over your old friend, who watches over you?”
*******
It’s because of coffee trees that shade trees can fulfill their role . . . That way, each one watches and is watched over by the other, don’t you think?
*******
I looked down at the shadows we cast on the asphalt.
The long one was mine.
The smaller one was hers.
Like two trees, growing side by side.
Do you know what a “shade tree” is? Despite what the name suggests, it’s not a species of tree at all. It’s what you call a tree that has a special role to play.
Coffee plants can’t stand direct sunlight. Even though they live in tropical areas in places like South America, they don’t grow well if they’re not in the shade. And, of course, if they don’t grow well, you’re never going to get good coffee beans from them. So if you go to any coffee plantation, you’ll find them planted alongside mostly banana and mango trees that grow quickly. That way they create an environment with the right amount of shade.
So basically a shade tree is a tree that’s there to protect the coffee plants.
*******
And around two weeks later, she actually did die. It’s amazing, no matter how young you are, or how cute, or how smart—or how loved you are—when it’s your time to die, it’s over. It’s not that complicated.
*******
It was like a light was suddenly shining down on me. Look out for Shizuku. No matter what happens. The owner of the café gave her the name Shizuku, which means “a drop,” because he wanted her to live a life as rich and flavorful as a drop of coffee. It seemed perfectly natural for Sumiré to ask me to be her shade tree then. I figured I could only play that role if I was with her all the time.
*******
What’s the point in someone like me who lives a super plain and ordinary life going to the trouble of watching a movie just to go through someone else’s plain, ordinary life? How am I supposed to relax peering into someone else’s existence? Why would I want to empathize with them? It sounds exhausting.
*******
“It’s the ordinary days of our lives that are the most precious.”
*******
mi-a placut cum s-a legat firul povestii intre metafore si citate, si mai ales faptul ca atunci cand le-am selectat pe parcursul lecturii, nu am stiut ca vor deveni un fel de continuitate din bucati de text…
As I listened to him, I thought about how each person has their own story they tell themselves about their lives. Mr. Numata’s was his and his alone. It was a story that I’d had no way of knowing, and one, I suppose, that I hadn’t needed to know. But he and I were connected by the place that had brought us together, the Torunka Café.
*******
“‘In life, reunions are the closest thing we get to miracles.’”
*******
Time had flown by, regardless of how I felt about it.
*******
“I feel the same way. There’s a powerful magic in Chopin’s music that seizes your heart and won’t let go. It has such tenderness to it. I can’t think of a composer who surpasses him in that regard.”
“You feel it in your heart . . . I know exactly what you mean.”
*******
din perspectiva cuiva care a avut pozele lui chopin, eminescu si byron pe usa, in adolescenta, am rezonat ceva cu acest capitol – “Chopin in the Afternoon”
When I was still a younger woman, I would come around once a week, but for the past seven or eight years, I’ve been coming every day. Anyway, all I have now is time. So much, in fact, that I wish I could share some of it with young people.
“Thank you. It was delicious.”
Today, as always, I drank my coffee down to the last drop and automatically mumbled the same expression of gratitude.
And with that, the moment I looked forward to most each day came to an end.
*******
The coffee here hasn’t changed at all from the way it was that day.
It’s delicious. And I feel grateful for that from the bottom of my heart. Anything that can make you smile like that is a precious commodity. There’s a bit of magic in the coffee the owner makes. Even now when I see him making a cup of coffee with that serious look on his face, I have to offer a quiet word of gratitude.
*******
reminder de recunostinta si gratitudine pentru ceea ce uneori consideram de la sine inteles si-i ignoram valoarea…
how to hold someone in your heart – mizuki tsujimura
*******
The sunlight flowing in through the window signalled that winter was nearly over; spring was around the corner. According to this morning’s reports, the cherry blossoms were expected to start blooming within the next week.
*******
‘It’s a gift to live in the world at the same time as the person you have in your heart,’ he said, sounding as though he were talking to himself. ‘We all kept Miss Ayako in our hearts, but we were never to live with her again.’ He turned to look at Ayumi. ‘You’re still very young. I hope that in your life, you will let your heart lead.’
*******
site-ul agentiei meteo japo care monitorizeaza ciresii si emite actualizari zilnice; imi amintesc ca citisem undeva ca etalonul il reprezinta un batran cires din kyoto, si gradele de imbobocire si inflorire detemina anuntarea inceptului anotimpului florilor de ciresi: