Muesli rules
At dawn our biorhythms are not
synchronised. Anna is an early bird. She gets up before the clock. She is in
a hurry as soon as she opens her eyes.
In the evening she is planning for the next day. In the morning she is
horrified because she won’t be able to fulfill it. She has a
habit to plan for more than she can objectively achieve.
Tension wears off as soon as she starts to work. Complete relief doesn’t exist.
There is always something else on the list of duties. There’s no life outside of
duties. It’s probably that Protestant ethic. It doesn’t
let you relax even when you are an atheist.
I like to work at night. Sometimes I stay working until the morning. When I go to bed late,
I’m not so eager to get up early. I’m even less eager to get up before the
clock. It’s Anna’s alarm that usually wakes me up. What to
do… I get up. I jump in
the shower. I feed Mici, our dog. I turn on the computer. I check my mail. I
browse the newspapers. I read what
I should expect. Everything is written. Black on
white.
‘Get ready for a longer period of giving up one type of joy and indulging in
another. Focus on your desire to succeed and don’t get nervous about
banalities. Health problems are psychosomatic and are not cause for concern.’
Anna doesn’t believe in astrology. That’s where our views on life differ. She
plans without consulting the stars. Then she is shocked when the moon enters
into the wrong house. I let the stars say what they have to say. I’m focused on
success and I don’t get worried over trivialities. It’s not like I have any say
in it anyway. Except for small life choices. Should I take muesli or
bread, butter and honey? Muesli, of course. Bread
fattens and there is too much cholesterol
in the butter.
Anna eats muesli also. Healthy food
connects what biorhythms divide. It’s the best
investment in harmony. While chewing, we are slowly reaching the same state.
Anna is coming down, I’m rising. Then we start to flow as water. After coffee,
our emotional propellers are turning on. We begin to talk. This morning we don’t have much time for that. Her packed bag reminds us of the timetable. She is travelling
to Leskovac.
“I have to hurry. I’m already late,” she says.
Being an early bird didn’t help. It’s never early enough. We kiss each other.
“Please drive carefully,” I say.
“I will,
don’t worry. Don’t forget to call the repairman,” she says while
entering the elevator.
As soon as I closed the door, I sat down at my computer. I was determined to
finish an article for my favourite female magazine. It started well. I tuned my
pen exactly to match the melodies of the female soul. Muesli is miraculous. It’s not only cleaning the
intestines, but brain too.
Around 10, the phone rings. It’s Bane.
“We are going,” he says.
“I will come too. I’m finishing the article. Let’s meet
at ‘the square’ at 11.30.”
I stop by the green-market to
buy one rose. Some other people are buying
flowers at the same place. We are looking at each
other. Recognising
each other. We are heading in
the same direction. The flowers are the
discerning sign. I’m excited. For a long time I haven’t attended a public gathering.
I was sure that I didn’t believe in anything anymore. We made full circle, we
saw it all. And when I saw it all, I swore that I would not be seen at gatherings
anymore. I’m sick and tired of everyone and
everything. This woke me
up from voluntary social anaesthesia. It shook me, made me feel disheartened
and defeated. It turned on the red lamp, the oil in the
brakes was gone.
For a long time living in Belgrade assumed that you had to be on alert.
Darkness was thick. However, we had our oasis of light. Faith that
things would be different. Better. We were peddling when it was impossible to
go by car. I didn’t want to run away and leave. I wanted to see the end and a
new beginning. I saw the end. But, after
the closing credits, the same reality-show continued. The Farm.
“Moo-moo” and “Oink-oink”. When Farm’s
inhabitants overplay in their games and take
somebody’s life, then everyone oinks: „That was not in the script.“ As if there
was a script.
The lynching of a mild-faced boy from the other world – in the city’s centre – was indigestible even for an audience used to all kinds of surprises brought upon us by the brutal reality-show called life. Too many explicit scenes without warning. Ten on one – that’s not a self defence – with rods, sticks, chairs, ashtrays… Until the end.
On ‘the
square’ there are many
people with flowers. I join the line. I place the
rose on a makeshift altar and I light the candle for the boy from
the other world. I stand in silence
and look to heaven.
A moment later I’m with Bane and Emilija. Bojana,
Vesna, Ida, Zoran and Vlada are there too.
We talk about the banality of evil. Everyone has a story
from their personal experience. We part in a
strange mood. The day is bright, warm and sunny. We are
depressed. Afraid of what is coming in
future episodes. This banality is life
threatening. And it is pouring out in massive quantities through the main
communication highways. Without filters.
In the afternoon I was hard-working. I was editing reports for my
radio-show. I called the repairman. After a long time I went to swim. To activate my body and
calm my soul. On the way back I went
to the pet shop, to buy a birthday present. On this day two years ago Hana,
Emilija, and Bane adopted a wounded street dog called Avica. Tonight they are preparing a little dinner for Avica’s
friends. I purchased a big vitamin bone. Avica should have a
feast too.
As I’m getting ready to leave I’m listening to the news on the radio. “The State
will prevent violence. The State bodies will provide security for everyone.” The State this, the State that.
I go to the birthday. Avica is Mici’s
best friend. A cousin, so to say. What way to go?, I wonder for a second while
getting out of the building. Whatever way we
choose, we go through Tasmajdan park. We
are heading up. Towards the passage that shortcuts
to the park.
Classes have just finished and I’m passing by little groups of high school
students that are heading towards the bus station. It’s hubbub. From time to
time hubbub is superseded by noise and cursing. Cursing noise is coming from a
few guys standing in the passage. I continue in that direction. That’s the
shortcut… Mici stops to pee. I stop, too, I hold her leash. While she is
peeing I take a glimpse of the cursers.
“What are you staring at?” a voice shouts. It is talking to me? I keep quiet without turning away my gaze. From the
dark way one two legged creature runs out towards me. An entangled
picolino. Gloomily determined.
I wave with my hand, gesturing ‘get off me’. From the running start picolino
smacks me on the head with his fist.
A cross to the cheekbone under the right eye. Is this really happening
or is it some kind of candid camera? Simulation of violence that everybody is
talking about these days? It seems to me that it stung me for real. I wouldn’t
say it’s psychosomatic. I really loose my balance. I grab his shirt. One more
blow comes. An uppercut right next to the mouth. One second later picolino and
other creatures disappeared. It’s exactly 8 p.m. This must be the beginning of
a new episode.
Mici seems to be OK. Standing frozen. She is used to active peaceful
coexistence. Cats are getting on her nerves,
she is barking at them, but she never attacks. I’m spitting blood. Touching the
cheekbone. I really got smacked. That picollino has a solid blow. I didn’t even have time to raise my
hands.
“Why did you mess with them at all?” I hear the
voice of a middle-aged guy with a beard. He heard something through his window
and came out to see what was going on.
”I know them”, he says and follows the way that the creatures left. How did I mess with them? Just by walking in front
of my building and by looking in front of myself?
I call the police. Is it 92? Never before in my
life had I dialled that number. A female voice answers.
“I was just
assaulted in front of the Fifth Gymnasium. ”
I gave my contact details.
“Are you injured? Is an emergency-car needed? ”
“It’s not
that bad. I got two fists in my head. I don’t think there is anything broken. ”
“What exactly happened to you?”
“Well, I was
walking my dog… Some guys were shouting… And one of
them struck me on the cheek twice.”
“Do you know your attackers? ”
“No, I
don’t.”
I dial the other number. Bane is
answering.
“I’ll be late for the dinner. I’ve got beaten in front of
my building. I’m waiting for the police to come…“
“What… What happened?“
“I can’t talk right now.“
“Wait for me. I’m catching the cab and coming…“
A few minutes later a patrol car
arrives. One fat and one tiny guy – Topalović
and Stojanović. They are addressing me
kindly. They don’t seem
very enthusiastic. They see these kind
of scenes all the time and are not able
to do anything. They also asked if I needed an emergency car. Do I really look that bad?
The skinny Topalović is holding the pen.
Stojanović is in charge of the
thinking part. That’s the
division of labour. After the initial kindness we move to the official part.
“Do you have your ID? ”
I’m giving my ID to Topalović. He is writing my data
into his notebook.
“What exactly happened? What was the reason? Do you know who are the
attackers?“
I’m trying to verbalise the ‘event’ that happened in just a few dozens of
seconds.
“Did they steel something from you?“
“I don’t
think so. My wallet is here.”
“Would you be able to describe the attacker? ”
“Well, I only saw him just for a split second. I would
say that he is around 20, skinny, smaller than me. He had shorts, a t-shirt and
I think that he had a sports cap as well.”
“Do you know anyone who could identify him?“
“One man from the building saw what happened. I think that he is somewhere
nearby…“
I look around.The bearded guy is gone.
Topalović is
closing his notebook. He is putting the pen in his
pocket.
“So, that’s it. Nothing?”, I say out of frustration.
“They could be far away by now. How can we look for
them? Do you see how many people there are on
the streets tonight? If you find someone who can identify the attackers, let us
know. We are on duty at the station,” Topalović is telling me.
He and Stojanović are
leaving. ‘State organs will provide security for everyone.’ Yeah,
sure, when you provide that for yourself. Maybe that is exactly
what the ‘big plan’ for the determined fight against violence is all about.
Bane’s cab is arriving. I jump
in together with Mici.
“Continue to the Emergency centre, please.”
Bane and Mici are walking around in
hospitals garden, I’m waiting in the line. I feel guilty. I’m taking precious
doctors’ time. There are so many worse cases.
A high school student with a broken nose. Escorted by
police he came directly from the mass ‘school party’. A grandpa with a broken
head. Hit by a car while crossing the street. Grandpa remained on the street, the car
continued. A female goalkeeper kicked with a football boot in the head. I’m in the company of the chosen ones. The stars wanted our
horoscopes to meet and our life paths to cross.
Dg: St.
Post contusionem faciei
Diagnosis: : Claims that he got beaten by unknown assailants. Able to
reconstruct the circumstances of his accident and didn’t throw up. Conscious,
oriented, communicative, neurologically without signs of rough pyramidal
lateralization. Locally:
contusion, zigomatic right. RTG of skull: no visible signs of break in the
skull base.
I was given a head scan and
an official stamp that I’m crumpled. I could submit criminal charges if I find
the picolino and his company.
Finally we get to the dinner. I’m opening the bag. The vitamin
bone was missing! Aha, that’s the
catch! Picolino smelled the bone, and couldn’t resist.
Avica is forgiving me for
coming empty handed. She is not
voracious. And she is eating well.
Doesn’t suffer vitamin deficiency. “Thank you for everything“, she says to me with her eyes. Then she goes to play with Mici.
We are contemplating. My new profile is
the main topic. We are reviving the memory of similar unforgettable moments.
Bane is concluding that global violence is connected with my beating in the very local neighborhood of mine. I disagree.
“Everything happened because of the bone. Kids lack vitamins.“
When Anna came back home the next day she was fascinated with my new look. “How handsome you are. Almost like
Uncle Fester. You should put your new profile on Facebook immediately. ”
Since
I’ve been taking prescribed painkillers my lifestyle has changed. I don’t go
out. I don’t drink beer. I spend time by myself, meditating. Solitude is
healing me physically and spiritually. I don’t work until late anymore. I go to
bed earlier and get up early, before the alarm. As soon as I’m on my feet, I do
gymnastics. I have adjusted my biorhythm to Anna’s. The
old proverb is completely truthful: the beating stick came straight from
heaven. We didn’t change breakfast, though. Muesli rules