8:00 A.M.
Then this memory , which had seemed so vivid and concrete , dispersed as if it were sound , smoke and wind . . Thais with a disposition and willingness to scrutinize their own cultural suppositions were rare but for those who were so inclined to repugn family and Buddha , if only in outward aloofness and tacit pondering , little remained sacrosanct from intellectual dissection except for issues in reference to the king , for to cease to revere him would make one something other than Thai . That is what he thought at 8:00 A.M. as he heard the king 's anthem playing at a distance from a passenger 's radio . That was what he thought , and yet had the moment been different he would have thought differently . He knew that what he was , what he claimed to be , was merely from being in the particular situation where he found himself . Now in this car of the train among these strangers whom he did not particularly like , hearing that rather bland melody repeated , one more of the daily repetitions throughout the years , and as always feeling that strong inhibition which made him not able to even acknowledge to himself this blandness , his disposition grew a bit peevish and restless for he kept telling himself that every moment he remained here was aging him toward his forty-first year .