The cold wind came from all directions, making people cry and snot, but the woman selling popcorn on the corner still persisted. Her name is Ju Fufu, which sounds a bit ironic, but her life is not very “lucky”. The rattling pot lid and the old pot in her hand seem to be the only weapons in her and the absurd game of this city. She used a series of jingles to knock on reality and the numb hearts of those pedestrians.
The sound of the pot lid can be said to be a sign of selling popcorn, or it can be said to be an absurd joke she made on life. Listen to that sound, is it a rhythm, or a silent protest? Maybe it’s both. The corn kernels popping in the pot are like the bubbles of life, and only a pile of debris is left after the explosion. Like her fate, it is fragile and can’t escape the end of being trampled.
Ju Fufu stood at the forefront of the storm. The cold wind was like an invisible knife, cutting her skin and the bright and prosperous city. Her life was just a microcosm of the cold society. She was trampled on by others, but had to be strong. The sound of the popcorn pot lid became her language, simple but harsh, reminding everyone who passed by – don’t forget, our world is not only sunny, but also wind and rain.
People walked past her with empty eyes and hurried steps, as if the sound was just background noise and could not awaken their numb nerves. However, behind the sound of the pot lid knocking was a face abandoned by society and a person’s real and heavy breathing. She didn’t speak, and the sound replaced her. The clinking of the pot lid was her cry and her unyielding counterattack against life.
In this absurd world, many people chose silence or escape, but Ju Fufu didn’t. She used a broken pot and pot lid to knock out the cruelest truth of the world: poverty is not an individual’s sin, but indifference is a common problem in society. The sound of the pot lid is like a hammer, hitting the heart of every conscientious person, and also smashing the eyes of those who pretend not to see.
The surface of this city is bright and beautiful, but the inside is full of cracks. The sound of Ju Fufu’s popcorn pot lid is like a worn-out mirror, reflecting the cracks and scars that society is unwilling to face. Those in suits may never hear this sound, or they don’t want to hear it. Because if you hear it, you have to face the injustice and indifference of this world.
But Ju Fufu, but she sticks here, using the sound of the pot lid hitting to warn us: life is not simple, nor is it fair. Her voice is powerful and simple, without any poetry, but extremely real. She doesn’t need anyone’s sympathy, she wants a world that is seen, a basic respect and warmth.
The brief bloom when the popcorn pops is just like the rare hope and happiness in her life. But after the explosion, it is still the sound of the pot lid in the cold wind, and the figure that no one cares about. What she knocked on was not the pot, but the mask of society, the absurd reality under the layers of fog.
This sound is both the rhythm of survival and the melody of resistance. Ju Fufu may be weak, but her voice is powerful. The rhythm of her knocking on the pot lid is a mockery of fate and a provocation to life. She shows us that even if forgotten by society and even if life is difficult, people can still live with dignity in their own way.
The sound of Ju Fufu’s popcorn pot lid is very much like another voice in this society – the voice that is covered by dust, forgotten, but never really disappears. She has no gorgeous words, no grand feats, only the sound of “ding-dong”, which echoes clearly in the cold wind and hits people’s hearts.
Perhaps, this is the voice we need to listen to the most. It reminds us that the world is not just a stage for those who hold power and wealth, but also some persevering souls who write the truth and courage of life in the simplest way.