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majnu
Deputy Moderator 5 Tours
Senior Member
since 2002-10-13
Posts 1088
SF Bay Area

0 posted 2002-11-06 10:55 PM


Of Age and Belief

When I was a freshman at the University of California, Berkeley, I was in an extension program for freshmen that were admitted to the spring semester. I commuted by BART because I had not received housing.
One night I was on my way home from a Speech & Debate meeting and I got on Bart around 8:30 pm. I used to catch the Pitsburg/Baypoint train from the Rockride station in Oakland. When I got on that night I happened to sit next to a black man who was already in the car. I had this habit of wearing sunglasses perpetually. Even in the evening - hey it was an image. In addition it gave me freedom to observe people without being fear of reproach.
  I noticed that the man was very absorbed in a book and being a book lover myself I was curious. I peered over to see what it was and I was surprised to see that it was the Bible. This was not a nice flashy hard-bound Bible though. Rather, it had a very worn, thin brown leather cover, that was mounted over paper binding. The different passages were marked up. There were highlightings, notes, underlines, and other notations that made it obvious to me that this gentleman had been through the sacred book many a time.
  My curiosity being piqued, I proceeded to examine the rest of my religious acquaintance. He wore trousers that were torn at the cuff and what looked to be very old leather dress shoes. The kind businessmen wear, the ones without laces. They were not shiny however, but rough and had many creases which were white with wear. His shirt was also old. It was plaid, not unlike the kind that many janitors or construction workers wear, but his manner was a bit too fine for such menial labor. Perhaps he was a clerk in some bank.
His face looked more like worn leather then his shoes. His skin was wrinkled everywhere, each line seeming to scream out its story. He had a furrowed brow as a man of age should have, but their was more weight on his then on most, it was as if he was carrying the world. His sloped forehead and flaring nostrils bore his African heritage bare. But what struck me the most was his eyes; red, tired eyes. Those windows to his soul were flaming hot, as if with fever; but his manner was subdued. Seemingly saying that he was oppressed by himself into restraint.
  This interesting man, as I said before, was quite absorbed in his bible, and as I watched more closely how he read I noticed a slight pattern. Every time he finished a passage he nodded, and every so often he would let out an approving grunt. So much a part of his book was he that he began to rock ever so gently back and forth, as if keeping time with the scripture. His whole focus upon the ink on page he seemed to be meditating at the same time as reading. His hands started to wring the pages and massage the leather and then he looked up.
  I sat back quickly, hoping he had not noticed me; whether he did or not I do not know, but he acted as if he hadn’t. This sudden attention was enough to jar me out of my trance and return me to my surroundings, but not enough to shake the memory from my mind. That man, that bible, that night, will always remind of something. I lost some part of my naïveté, some of my innocence. Regardless of the reality of his life, because I do not know if my thoughts represent truth, in that man I saw a life’s work and a life’s faith. In that man I saw those two admirable qualities add up to creased, worn shoes, a plaid shirt, and endless labor till death.


© Copyright 2002 Zaheer Abbas Ali - All Rights Reserved
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

1 posted 2002-11-07 01:04 PM



Every time he finished a passage he nodded, and every so often he would let out an approving grunt. So much a part of his book was he that he began to rock ever so gently back and forth, as if keeping time with the scripture. His whole focus upon the ink on page he seemed to be meditating at the same time as reading. His hands started to wring the pages and massage the leather and then he looked up.
===============================

this is very detailed and interesting....
well done!! I am a people watcher too...
love sitting off in a corner and observing quietly. You wrote this man with depth and gave him character that we could see...and your analogies and references to age, time and wisdom added to this ones pleasures.
very cool write majnu...I hope to see more of you here in prose.  


No one has ever shown me how to see the world the way I see it now ...
and I never saw blue like that before.

~Tom Kimmel~


[This message has been edited by Janet Marie (11-07-2002 01:06 PM).]

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
2 posted 2002-11-07 01:21 PM


Manju, I am sitting beside my mothy friend, Janet Marie, and will let you know that we are both prose-lovers.

I believe you have a great deal to offer in the way of prose.  If you ever have need of an editor prior to submitting your work for publication, I hereby raise my hand!

majnu
Deputy Moderator 5 Tours
Senior Member
since 2002-10-13
Posts 1088
SF Bay Area
3 posted 2002-11-07 04:51 PM


wow! i think I feel my head swelling a tiny bit!

janetmarie,
  Hail fellow watcher! If I ever get published I am going to use the pen name "The Watcher." All the people who refuse to use public transportation are sure missing out.

sunshine,
  I am honored and flattered to have the editor of the newsletter offer her services to me. I also thank you for your delicacy in pointing out that I should have looked at this piece more carefully before posting it. I am currently working on a longer peice, perhaps 3600 words. Would you be willing to go over something that long? In any case thank you very much for the read and the compliments.

-majnu
--------------------------------------
Can you hear it? The Sea is calling.

Zinsser
Senior Member
since 2001-02-27
Posts 1641
Calif.
4 posted 2002-11-15 03:43 PM


I also love to watch people and to talk to people of all walks of life....
When I was a small child my Dad and I would go to the airport often to watch the people come and go from all over.... love it

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