A fight to break the
bondages of childhood
I realize that manhood is a privilege that few know or grasp its totality, that
few actually see the horizon of it. Manhood was more than making babies, having
a wife, having sex and doing as you please any fool can reproduce, anyone can
make babies it usually happens as a mistake in most cases, manhood: was a fight
for a male individual to be taken seriously or has proven that he is able to
fight and stand and pronounce his name at any mountain peak without feeling the
slightest intimidation from any external force apart from him-self alone. Sadly
some are lost in the midst of its perks, its advantages and has left the
position's responsibilities hovering in the air, some win the fight, some lose
and the majority is not even conscious about it. Sitting here I realize that
everyday is more than a journey but an in-depth discovery of what this person
who is subjected to the forces of the universe is and his capability is in its
boundlessness to create, erase and create again. He took his pen and
placed it next to the paper and stared at the ink blots with amazement.
Tsebo sat on his bed and thought further than where
his mind could take him, where no words existed, it was just plain space where
you were thinking, this usually happens when one thinks beyond their ability.
When the process of thought is pushed and it is carelessly done, these were
symptoms of unappreciated thought a quest that would not yield a master piece
and thus the only answer he saw was to refrain, he sat up , laid back,
sat on the floor but no position was comfortable he settled on laying on his
stomach and slept. It is strange the goings on of the mind the escapades
it tends to churn; the fictitious life of despair or pleasure it perceives for
you is sometimes too much for the mortal mind and you find yourself awake
wading through the hours of darkness looking for any sign of daylight . Tsebo sat-up and wondered all across the room in total
darkness , the watched flashed 2H15AM, very little could be heard, very little
could be seen everything at this time is belittled he thought; even the most
powerful men in the world is probably snoring . He remembered his pen and paper
and felt a slight excitement, like a child would feel as it sees its mother he
lit the light blinding for a few seconds and than retraced his steps and began:
the mind simmers as it creates discoveries of genius and foolishness and to
face reality was to admit that both are acts of the mind, the world created in
equal proportions genius and foolishness. Foolishness was temporary and
irrational while genius was precise and prevalent, even though genius stands as
the victor of thought foolishness tends to rear its head in the most peculiar
of ways. It is a human folly I guess the skill that we possess: the ability to
find the wrongs in our counterparts it is and has always been a condition we
suffer from, it is a human condition that plagues us all, but what is strange
is that we are aware of its existence but we still give it space to grow. Human
creations tend to outgrow their initial stance and hence you find son outgrows
father and one spouse outlives the other. The human cycle is strange really, it
never stops only you stop but many others outlive your thoughts, your dreams
and Your being they all revolve around and die in this cycle and at that moment
you find yourself in eternal darkness it seems unthinkable but eternity never
ends it is precise and prevalent it is dark and it is your baby alone to face,
it is genius that brings you to a halt never-ending. It is immaculate that it
manifests in different shapes and sizes but life on the other hand is temporary
and irrational
Foolishness he thought, he paused moved by the word foolishness causing him to
nimble on his nails "what blasphemy" He thought, but a thought is a
thought. The sun coming up from the east, with streaks of glowing red-orange
casting darkness to another land he continued life is unpredictable but in that
we find solace, that we never know what the next hour holds joy, bitterness,
fame or fortune life is a choice defined. The clock flash 6:00AM and he
retreated from the paper and pen and went to take a shower in what was a glass
frame a nozzle and two metallic taps spotted blue(for cold water),red(hot
water) he adjusted the water until it was at a point when it had reached
equilibrium( a balance of hot and cold water) when it was pleasurable enough to
soothe all feelings of insecurity, cold or any other sickness one contracts
during the wee hours of the morning as soon as the water touched his body his
shadow reflected on the tiled wall with contentment as he moved around on an
axis to cover his whole body and within the next two minutes he was out of the
shower and covered himself with a blue beach towel and left the congested
bathroom to his irregularly shaped bedroom , he than decided to burn some
"mphepho" as soon as it started burning it
started engaging with his surroundings its fumes encompassing the space
given to its freedom to roam and leave a smell of mother Africa in her virginal
days amidst her siblings before they robbed her of her virginity while
she was young and fragile, the smell of the mphepho
reminded him of something but what? He couldn't grasp it in its fullness he lay
on his bed taken prisoner by this enchanting smell that stretched from left to
right, north to south to such a point that he felt as if his mind stood firm as
an aged palm tree in its grandeur. He felt deceived as if he knew the answers
to what was plaguing him you must deceive to know what is to be deceived, to
feel small you must know what is big the antagonism of the two is what is and
forever shall be. Being is believing belief is defeat over the insecurity one
might feel when h/she faces a population that swarms the entire world but
"you must" his conscience playing tricks on his mind divided upon
what path to take he tossed and turned and fell off the bed, the impact rattled
him a bit he realized that the ground stood firm and he was the One with the
temporary pain. He got up and made a decision that he will go and do his
monolog a task that was at hand and needed to be accomplished, he went to the
wall closet the doors (vinyl brown) slightly opened, he enlarges the angle of
the opened doors and pelages his swarms of clothing where he came across a
T-shirt written "I'm the man caught in time" and at the back it was
written "time is money" what it meant to him was that time was a
generating factor of money, a multiplier phenomenon and since man is servant to
time he was caught in the process alike and was pronounced final consumer yes
he thought! I'm the final consumer of everything that is anything; he put on
the t-shirt that was written in Arial black it was appealing to him and it was
his favourite colour, he put on black jeans and black sued shoes. He thought of
nothing of 8oclock but focused at the time at hand, it was precious though he
treated it like it was something renewable, and he wallowed in his apartment
taking in the sights from the different rooms, it seemed the sun took on
different characters in each room its blinding raze altogether fluctuating with
different intensity, maybe it was the paint he entertained this thought for a
while and went in to the kitchen that was moderately spaced with the
normal essentials of modern-Day metropolis-apartment, he warmed up some low-fat
milk in a metallic micro-oven that stood facing a small window that gave a
glimpse of the world outside it was placed opposite to the window on a granite
top cover. He ate the cereal quickly without taking breaks in between; he
placed it in the sink and left the kitchen in a slightly hunched posture the
clock flashed 7:15am he yawned heavily and looked at the watch as if it was
yawning back, he was flashed with a bolt of fatigue accompanied by a passing
thought that he had been up since the wee hours of the morning. He thought
about self-exhibitions of discovery; he thought of it for long and hard, it
scared him in an iote kind of a way as he thought
about it he got up from the couch put the pad in his backpack and walked
towards the door walking over a wall to wall carpet that had the map of Africa embroided into its fabric, he opened the wooden door, he
locked the door from the outside and left for his journey which he knows not
what he will achieve or not but soon forgot about the whole thing. He walked up
the street to the stop sign that was on both sides of the crossing a taxi was
coming up his way as soon it stop he embarked and was on his journey, journeys
were enjoyable no matter what mode of transport, there was always something new
to see something you hadn't known before, as he sat down he gazed at the people
and gave a dumelang! And was met by a wave of
unsynchronized ahee's flooding his ears he sat next
to a plumb middle-aged lady who occupied 2/5th of his seat but it was fine
because he was rather skinny so it made no difference to his comfort. He paid
little attention to the crowd in the taxi except this light-skinned lady who
had an even tone, dread locks hanging to her shoulders, a green T-shirt written
"hug me" she had eyes that were like overlapping concave shapes
,where the two lines that create the shape converge the convergence gave her a
bit of a Asian look. He could see her swelled breasts and had a desire to touch
and fell their softness but that would be considered motives of a future rapist
and so he refrained and maintained a straight posture, there was not a person
in sight on the open road, he passed the taxi -fair to the plumb lady and
returned to his previous position the taxi was quite and stuffy and to risk
opening it, would risk getting insulted in the morning and especially as the
taxi-driver is Zulu you don't take chances with them they are violent to the
bone and as an unwritten law for passengers: complain and you'll get kicked
off. The road kept on meandering and meandering until it approached a sign
written moon box and he knew it was almost time, his mood was confused; he
couldn't tell; if it was fear or excitement his heart began beating faster as
the taxi approached the stop-sign he was about to say something to the driver
but was beaten to it by somebody from the back. As soon as the taxi gave way
for him to get off he was followed by the 'hug me" lady as soon as she got
off he gave her a hug and felt her lumps press against his chest it felt good a
pleasure, she was surprised and gave him a smile he turned to her and asked her
what's your name? Ke tshepiso!
I'm Tsebo nice to meet, le-nna
(me too) she replied and she left him there and crossed a robot and headed down
the side walk, he stood watching her as she disappeared in and amongst the many
streets of the metropolis he walked past several Chinese stores all selling the
same thing, it was weird to see them you'd think they are tourists but they are
African as he was, African as he realised was no longer a term for the native
of continent African. He crossed the street opposite an old mutual
building and there it was the box that contained a moon inside his watch beeped
for eight o'clock and he knew that the time had come for him to break the
bondages of childish phobias and make a name of himself not that he did not
have a name, he wanted it to be decorated in the sky illuminated for all with
eyes to see it was as if he would be taken total ownership that he was Tsebo. He entered and was met by pitch darkness; he was
greeted by attractive voice that startled him a bit, are
you Tsebo she asked? Yes! He answered we thought you
weren't coming I'm here now with a bit of anxiety in his voice trembling a bit
to the trained ear, she said let me take you back stage and then the reality
set in that he was seconds away for self-exhibitions of discovery the moment yo
u let go of your inner most fears, insecurities as soon as they got back stage
he asked how big is the turnout? Big considering that its mid-month something
clinched him by the throat she told him to relax you'll do alright! He said
that it was a definite that gave him faith to go out and say that his mind was
coloured with writings that he wanted to manifest into the material world, she
smiled and even in the darkness her smile let out a sight of sparkling light
good luck she said and left. He heard an announcement followed by his name and
applause and he knew it was his queue
He walked onto the stage that was more like a ramp because you had to walk
about ten steps before you got to the chair, you couldn't see the crowd it was
buried in the darkness all was black no whites, no Indians just black people he
sat on the chair and took a deep breath with the spot light on him as the focal
point he said his greeting and all sorts of replies and the one the caught his
ears was yes maan! In a fake jah-man,
hola-heita preaches came from the more experienced
crowd as the noise died down they were just yearning for some spoken
word: he began
Self exhibition of discovery
Preach it came again!
He paced himself and started
Once I took a trip when I plunged deep into myself
Where only dusk tracks exist (mhh!! A cry came)
Where the lights are dim with little to see when all is coloured black and navy
blue , where no sun shines .replacing it is a huge whole leading to alternate
worlds that give answers to human plagues
They came as a mind map all linked to a main thought; I stared dazed under a
spell cast by this whole that seemingly resembles a magic 8ball
Read: to find an answer you have to seek beneath your feet because they conceal
the truth, the soil is the only answer to true questions because it is not
capable of deceiving as it starts as a mountain and ends up as a pebble sized
stone
I ask it, what it meant and it replied seek and you shall find
I told it, it made no sense because I was deep in the ravages of my mind and
nothing of me could be traced, how can I lay claim to something so complex,
that the it was an under a statement to Jesus' parables to what lay free for me
to claim
It Read: to eat is to taste; to feel is to experience to travel is to define,
to hide is cowardice, the roll of the dice was unpredictable, and the surface
was never smooth
It than seized to continued and light with little streaks as if pricking the
darkness with a dazzling array of light that revealed all that lay ahead and it
made sense that to seek was to find, to pick a fruit was to taste something
new, to feel something was a moment of experience, to travel was to associate
with different cultures and hence defining yourself and to roll a dice was to
win or lose and not to roll it was to loose
He paused a bit and repeated the title; the crowd broke into a sea of applause
and screams some gun-shots sound effects. He managed to let loose the inner
best into the outer world as he left the stage he felt empowered as if he'd hit
a milestone, he stretched his arms out as if to give himself space to breath he
was ecstatic that the breaths he took in gulps to resuscitate his natural state
back. As he heads to the door he meets Tshepiso again
she too leaving, their eyes made contact I'm impressed by your account of
things she said he bowed and replied it is all in the process of a day
.
Kekeletso
Molebatsi
Terminology
Mphepho: African herb that is supposed to cast away bad
spirits
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|
Name |
Comment |
Date |
|
James |
Where to begin.....? |
2008-02-10 |
|
Ginny |
Wow this is real stream of
consciousness stuff. Interesting but could be cut a lot. Points 2 - This writing needs a bit of editing and/or re-writing |
2008-02-10 |
|
Louis |
Stream of consciousness writing
also needs to be edited. I don't know, to me, this piece doesn't make a
point - or there are too many points to consider. |
2008-02-12 |