That’s why I say: “I’m not a sarin victim, I’m a survivor.” Frankly, there are some latent symptoms, but nothing to keep me bedridden. I’m just glad I survived.
The fear, the mental wounds are still with me, of course, but there’s no way to flush them out of my system. I could never find words to explain it to the families of those who died or who sacrificed their lives on the job.
I try not to hate Aum. I leave them to the authorities. I’ve already gone beyond hatred. My hating them wouldn’t help anyway. I don’t follow the news reports on the Aum trial—what would be the point? I know what’s what without looking. Going back over the circumstances won’t solve anything. I’ve no interest in the verdict or the punishment. That’s for the judge to decide.
MURAKAMI:
What exactly do you mean, you know “what’s what without looking”?
I already knew society had gotten to the point where something like Aum had to happen. Dealing with passengers day after day, you see what you see. It’s a question of morals. At the station, you get a very clear picture of people at their most negative, their downsides. For instance, if we’re sweeping up the station with a dustpan and brush, just when we’ve finished, someone will flick a cigarette butt or a piece of litter right on the spot where we’ve cleaned. There are too many self-assertive people out there.
There’s an upside to passengers too. A guy around 50, alwaystravels on the first train of the day, always used to greet me, he probably thought I’d died until I returned to the job. Yesterday morning when we met, he said: “Alive and well means you’ve still got things to do. Don’t give up the fight!” It’s such an encouragement just to get a cheerful greeting. Nothing comes of hatred.
“It’s not even whether or not to take the subway, just to go out walking scares me now”
Tomoko Takatsuki (26)
Ms. Takatsuki lives with her husband at her grandmother’s house in Shibuya Ward, west central Tokyo. But at the time she got caught up in the Tokyo gas attack, the newlyweds were living in the outlying suburbs of Kawasaki to the south
.
Their present house in Shibuya is the old family home where her mother grew up. Her grandmother now leases out the upper floor as flats, one of which they occupy
. “It’s more convenient here to get into the center of town,”
says Ms. Takatsuki
, “plus the rent’s cheap.”
But her grandmother is quick to add
, “My legs aren’t so good anymore, so they moved here to look after me.”
Ms. Takatsuki is a slim, young-looking 26-year-old who could still pass for a student. While she plays down her own trauma
—“Why interview me when I escaped unharmed?”—
listening to her story it becomes clear that the gas attack still affects her even today. A strong woman, she’s nonetheless not the type to come forward and talk without being prompted. It takes time for her true feelings to come out
.
Her tall, silent husband thoughtfully left the room for the interview. They met at a party to which she hadn’t wanted to go, but was urged on by a friend
.
My office is in Kamiyacho, so it used to take almost an hour to commute from the house in Kawasaki. I never found it a long journey. An hour’s about average for your typical salaryman.
I get up about 5:30 . Eat breakfast, leave the house, get to the office at 7:30 . Office hours begin at 9:00 , so I have a full hour and a half at my desk to read the newspaper or have a bite to eat.
Well, the trains are crowded. So I leave the house early, around 6:30 . I don’t like traveling on crowded trains. And the Odakyu Line, as you’d expect, has plenty of weirdos
(laughs)
. I’ve never had trouble getting up early or anything, I was just a bit late that day.
It’ll be five years this year since I started with the company. I graduated in political economy, but since working here I’ve been assigned to the Systems Department. I had to train for three
The fear, the mental wounds are still with me, of course, but there’s no way to flush them out of my system. I could never find words to explain it to the families of those who died or who sacrificed their lives on the job.
I try not to hate Aum. I leave them to the authorities. I’ve already gone beyond hatred. My hating them wouldn’t help anyway. I don’t follow the news reports on the Aum trial—what would be the point? I know what’s what without looking. Going back over the circumstances won’t solve anything. I’ve no interest in the verdict or the punishment. That’s for the judge to decide.
MURAKAMI:
What exactly do you mean, you know “what’s what without looking”?
I already knew society had gotten to the point where something like Aum had to happen. Dealing with passengers day after day, you see what you see. It’s a question of morals. At the station, you get a very clear picture of people at their most negative, their downsides. For instance, if we’re sweeping up the station with a dustpan and brush, just when we’ve finished, someone will flick a cigarette butt or a piece of litter right on the spot where we’ve cleaned. There are too many self-assertive people out there.
There’s an upside to passengers too. A guy around 50, alwaystravels on the first train of the day, always used to greet me, he probably thought I’d died until I returned to the job. Yesterday morning when we met, he said: “Alive and well means you’ve still got things to do. Don’t give up the fight!” It’s such an encouragement just to get a cheerful greeting. Nothing comes of hatred.
“It’s not even whether or not to take the subway, just to go out walking scares me now”
Tomoko Takatsuki (26)
Ms. Takatsuki lives with her husband at her grandmother’s house in Shibuya Ward, west central Tokyo. But at the time she got caught up in the Tokyo gas attack, the newlyweds were living in the outlying suburbs of Kawasaki to the south
.
Their present house in Shibuya is the old family home where her mother grew up. Her grandmother now leases out the upper floor as flats, one of which they occupy
. “It’s more convenient here to get into the center of town,”
says Ms. Takatsuki
, “plus the rent’s cheap.”
But her grandmother is quick to add
, “My legs aren’t so good anymore, so they moved here to look after me.”
Ms. Takatsuki is a slim, young-looking 26-year-old who could still pass for a student. While she plays down her own trauma
—“Why interview me when I escaped unharmed?”—
listening to her story it becomes clear that the gas attack still affects her even today. A strong woman, she’s nonetheless not the type to come forward and talk without being prompted. It takes time for her true feelings to come out
.
Her tall, silent husband thoughtfully left the room for the interview. They met at a party to which she hadn’t wanted to go, but was urged on by a friend
.
My office is in Kamiyacho, so it used to take almost an hour to commute from the house in Kawasaki. I never found it a long journey. An hour’s about average for your typical salaryman.
I get up about 5:30 . Eat breakfast, leave the house, get to the office at 7:30 . Office hours begin at 9:00 , so I have a full hour and a half at my desk to read the newspaper or have a bite to eat.
Well, the trains are crowded. So I leave the house early, around 6:30 . I don’t like traveling on crowded trains. And the Odakyu Line, as you’d expect, has plenty of weirdos
(laughs)
. I’ve never had trouble getting up early or anything, I was just a bit late that day.
It’ll be five years this year since I started with the company. I graduated in political economy, but since working here I’ve been assigned to the Systems Department. I had to train for three
Similar Books
