Entries for April, 2008
April 15th, 2008
Valedictory
It has been two months now since I left the Philippines … the memories I cling to are shadows that flitter in and out of my waking moments. I try to hold them close to me yet try not to be lonely by immersing myself in this new challenge. New … I still refer to these challenges as new … I must be insane.
I work myself to sleep everyday. My room is just as sparsely furnished as the day I arrived in Doha. I don’t want to make this place “home”. When I get to my flat from work at about 7:30, I eat a light dinner, go to my room, and turn my laptop on … I reach into my back and bring out documents … I smile … my saving grace.
This way, the days flash by ever so quickly. I try not to think about my Andre and Sofia … my best buddy and my little angel … yet, I keep the little blue teddy my son gave me close by. Every day, I go through this routine. A robot with a photograph of his family for a battery … my days and nights are the same … the sun has just repositioned itself on the other side of my planet. The hours are just as long … the glare of the computer upon my face … just as bright.
Life for me now is just a long road … with days for miles … a long dusty road in the middle of nowhere … a valediction to a man who held the world in his hand and squeezed …
... z ...
Posted by tuliro at 02:33 PM |
April 17th, 2008
Visual
In a tiny screen in the corner of my computer, I saw them … my Andre’ typing his frustration on his PSP game. In the background, I could see his little sister running, stumbling, crawling on the bed that we had placed on the floor. Andre’ would give a gander and give her instructions that any big brother would … and Sofi, of course, would ignore him like any one-year old sister would.
I smile despite the pang in my heart …
“I’ve been trying for days, dad, the game won’t load …” (Sofi wrestling a pillow )
“Really, buddy? … try playing another game” (… my God, son … I miss you so much )
“Ok, dad … but they tell me I have to upgrade my PSP …” (Sofi stands up and walks off the bed )
“We’l; hav e youur unit upgrasded soon, budy.” (… my hands won’t stop shaking )
“Ok, dad.” …. “Dad?” … “I think you made a mistake in spelling.” (He grins into the webcam )
“I’m sorry, son … “ ( … I gingerly touch the screen with my fingertips … the familiar emptiness in my heart embracing me)
… I miss you, buddy … so much …
I’m glad you’ve come to accept these thousand miles that keep us apart. I am happy that you no longer keep to yourself in the corner of the room holding your little blue teddy … I am pleased that you have proven more resilient than me …
“Will we talk again tomorrow?”
“If the internet here is working, son … we will … play ka muna, buddy … daddy will go back to work.”
“Ok, dad … love you, miss you … Mwuah!!” … (waving in the screen)
“Bye, son … Bukrah Habibi” … (… I turn away from the computer … I can’t bear to see him go )
… z …
Posted by tuliro at 01:15 PM |
April 19th, 2008
Sandstorm
The sky is a dirty shade of beige as the wind shows its delight in short strong gusts not unlike a child’s laughter. The streets are eerily empty, bereft of its usual weekend bustle. All the windows are closed and the occasional passerby is wrapped tighter than a “take-away” Arabian shawarma.
It is pleasant, in a morbid sort of way. Something inside of me feels a sudden kinship to the barren city streets and sidewalks. It is like for once, it has found a friend … a creature of similar ilk. The silence soothes my soul as nature caresses the gaping hole in my heart.
My eyes sting as I look to different directions, as the fine sand and dust dance to the macabre howl of the wind. I don’t mind the pain … my eyes have long been used to the sensation.
Just like in the movie - Shawshank Redemption, I raise my arms at my side and face the sun … a pale, round disc in the horizon and let the sandstorm take me to my secret place in my soul. I may seem like a fool to the passerby that sees me … for all I care … in my mind … in this one moment … I am flying home …
… z …
Posted by tuliro at 03:49 PM |
April 22nd, 2008
My Son's Blog Entry (9yrs old)
...
My Dad, My Best Buddy....
by:andre to my dad..
My dad, my buddy
always there when you need a friend...
My dad, my buddy..
He always loves you.. even to the end...
My dad, my buddy
O, how i love you so..
My dad, my buddy
O, i wont accept to let you go..
Times here is hard
so is there for you...
my heart is broken into tiny shards,
Because i miss you too....
I know you miss me,
so do i,
but if you are not here,
i cant help but cry..
Like the lyrics of a song "i rule the mud box in school,
i am the toughest slob,
but if i really miss my dad,
i cant help but sob.".
and that is what we have in common
our friendship and love,
when we want to reach our dreams,
just spread your wings larger than the dove..
i really miss you, no doubt..
i just might cry...
i cant even shout....
but even cant try......
When you are not here,
i cry a lot,
More than any kid could miss his dad,
Why should i not?
O, dad i miss you,
Please come back.
I really miss you.
You only... is what this family lack.
-Andre'
hi dad hope you liked it and if tito jonnel finds it or mom, hope ya' like it... well this is a poem for dad no doubt... hehe..
-Andre
Sunday, April 20, 2008
10: 16 PM
Posted by tuliro at 05:27 PM |
April 28th, 2008
S'barro or McDonald’s
...
I decided to eat out tonight … there was no food in the flat. As I walked down the street towards Sana Roundabout, I couldn’t help but notice that the weather was definitely warmer now than it was a few nights ago. Summer was fast approaching and the intermittent breeze was a blessing to the increasing humidity in Doha.
I was hungry. I hardly had lunch as I was hard-pressed to complete a marketing report for my general manager from Kuwait. S’barro and McDonald’s are located right beside each other along the street, and for a while, I stood there staring at the neon-lit signage … “Which to choose, yani?”, I chuckled to myself.
I “sorta” fancied Italian, I decided … but as I walked towards the green and red marked glass door, I hesitated. Andre’ loves S’barro … he used to plead me to bring him to the restaurant back in the Philippines … Pepperoni pizza, his favorite. I swayed and almost stumbled at the force of the memory.
Damn … I guess it’s a Big Mac for dinner, then.
… z …
Posted by tuliro at 01:24 PM |
