One of the sisters: The Wedding Gift

25 December 2023 - morning

Today was Christmas day, though we did not celebrate this festivity. The weather was chill in Chiang Mai. I was not certain why I was here in first place. One thing I knew was that I need to hand a wedding gift to one of the sisters. I bought the gift eight years ago when I heard that she was getting married. I was very pleased to hear that she found her other half she wanted to spend her life with. More than that we did not need to fulfil our crazy promise dated in 2011 when we were university student.

I woke up this morning in a fairly old wooden house, which I had found in Air BnB app. It was nothing special about the place, but it was cheap and affordable I guessed. The owner was nice though--a tall, elderly guy with gray hair. He was gentle by the way he spoke. Perhaps, because English was not our mother tongue. So, we spoke words by words, slowly and carefully. We chose simple and easy-to-understand vocabularies that did not need further explanation. It was important to be able to communicate in a common language both people understand each other. Plus, it was not a public speaking competition that we had to play around with fancy, technical vocabularies.

I sat down for breakfast at 8 o'clock or so. I usually did not have breakfast back home. But I had to have something to fill my stomach before my mission. I thought it would be light breakfast, something quick and easy like eggs and toast. To my surprise, it was not. It was freshly made fried noodles and mango sticky rice. In fact, it looked like more of my lunch. Since I could not pack it. I just needed to enjoy this big breakfast. Silently, I whispered to myself that tomorrow I would get out of the room for breakfast at 10 o'clock so that it would be my lunch instead of a breakfast.

After finishing the big breakfast, I brushed my teeth and took a shower. It was embarrassed to admit that I had not taken any shower since last night because the weather was too cold. A hot shower made it up for a cold morning. I then put on clean clothes and backpack. I took backpack for I thought I would visit Chiang Dao and spend overnight there if I felt like it.

On the road, I went. I roam the road to her place based on the direction shown on the maps. Thanks to it, otherwise, I would not find her place. My hands were shaking, so were my legs, because I had neither gloves nor shocks. I drove bare hands and wore flip-flop shoes.

I drove about one hour to reach her village. It was not her hometown so to speak, but a place she relocated with her family after her home country fell into internal arms conflict. It was unfortunate for her, her family, and hundred thousands of others, who had to abandon their home and settle in a foreign land. In contrary, I was lucky to be able to lead my life in my motherland. It was chilling along the road.

She lived in a small, one storied house by the foot of a hill. There was no gate. When I reached there, I saw her sitting in pink, plastic chair in front of the house as if she was waiting to welcome a long lost friend. I smiled (with my facemask on) as soon as I saw her. Her husband was there, but her two boys were at school, attending classes. I parked the bike and handed her oranges I bought along the way.

We then sat down, talked, drank tea, ate some local snack from her hometown, and laughed, despite the fact that the land we were sitting on was foreign to both of us. I asked her if she was hopeful about the future of her country. She said, "yes." She furthered that positive change would be attained soon. I did wish so too.

We then changed the subjects. We talked about life, what future may hold. Thinking about it, I felt a bit sad inside me. I was not sure, at that moment, what future may hold for me. I felt that my future was uncertain and out of reach. I was scared to think about it. I was scared that I would become an old man, leading a lonely life without anyone sitting by my side when the sun went down. Come to think of it, I felt even sadder.

We had lunch together, talked a bit more, laughed a little longer, and paid goodbye. I left her house. I still thought about her. How peaceful it was to live a slow, quiet life. But I was not sure if she felt peaceful inside given that she had to give up her home country, temporarily.

Where are you, my other half?

Where are you? When will you show up? Are you tormenting me?

It's really heartbreaking to only see you in my dream. It's heartaching to only feel close to you in my dream. Do you know how much I look forward to meeting you, hug you, kiss you, hold your hands, and do whatever I want as a lover would do to my heart content. I'm crying now thinking about your whereabouts and mean to reach you. I feel suffocating as if I am placed in a vacuumed room that air is being slowly sucked out.

Please, turn yourself in quickly 😭 Don't you feel the same way? Don't you look for me? Don't you want our time together a few years longer if we meet earlier before our last breath.

Now, I send my heart with a kiss to you through the wind to keep you warm until we found each other. Take care my other half. 

Forgetting our own face

Have you ever gotten up forgetting what your own face was like?

When I got up this morning, I looked at my face in my bathroom mirror. Suddenly, I had a doubt that if the face reflected before me in the mirror was my own damn face. I then placed both palms on my face while studying it - it had an oval shape, some beard and mustache, two-layer eyelids, curve eyebrows, brown eyes, straight hair though a bit messy after waking up. That should be me. But why could I not recognize my own face? Why did I doubt the person in the mirror before me? Why did I have this kind of thought? Did I actually doubt my face? Or did I actually doubt my existence? Or did I doubt what I should do today? What do I want to achieve today? A lot of questions popped up in my head that I could not find an answer to. I then washed my own damn face that I could not recognize, dressed up, locked the door behind me, and drove down the road to the office as usual. Yet, my head still thought about my face, my existence, my goal, my ... Inattentively, half of my body was wet. A car roamed over a bottle of water and splashed onto me. I was then awakened. Those thoughts vanished in the traffic as I had to focus on the road before me. 

Our First Home

"Have you ever imagined getting up your first home disappeared?"

I have never thought about that, not even once. I have never thought that my first home and her households would disappear one day. This kind of thinking has never crossed my mind, and I am not ready to think about it, for it will be very, very heartbreaking to face.

What would we behave if the persons—though we do not verbally express our feelings toward one another, but in our heart we know that we care for each other—disappear one day?

My first home has my parents and siblings. We grow up not talking much with one another. My parents in my childhood memories were too busy securing enough meals on the table. They got up early to mend their business. They were like opportunists. They often changed their business when new opportunities or demands rose. They did not stay still. They were very active. We all were very active. My siblings and I studied three times a day—morning, afternoon, and evening. When dust came, we were all exhausted. We then crawled into our own bed and the next day arrived. Our days went like this days, months, and years. We did not exchange many words, but we knew pretty clearly that we cared for each other and were responsible for our duties so that we made no one worried. It became our routines and responsibilities—they earned income, and we, the children, earned a degree. When we realized it, wrinkles welled up our arms and foreheads.

Now, I have a second home—my own home. But I can’t get rid of my first home. When I feel sick, I would go back to that leaking and dusty room. It will be the perfect place to escape despite the fact that I already have another escape because I know very clearly that I would be well taken care of. Someone would call up from downstairs to check if I am feeling better. Someone would call me for meals and medications.

So, when you asked me “Have you ever imagined getting up your first home disappeared?” tears would well up in my eyes. I want my first home to be immortal, eternal. I want my first home to always be there no matter what. I want my first home to never disappear because I am not ready to let go of my first home. I hope you do too. No matter how bad the memories of the first home was, in the end, they would never let anyone’s hands go because we are family. We not only laugh but cry.

I feel your smell lingering in the air

You might wonder why I love the smell of jasmine flowers the most of all other flowers. You might wonder why I love jasmine tea the most of all other tea flavors. You might wonder why I love anything, or simply everything, related to jasmine.

The answer is simple. I feel you beside me every time I feel the smell of jasmine. I feel your warmth when I sip a mouthful of hot jasmine tea. I feel your presence when I carry a handful of jasmine flowers in my palm. I feel secured. I feel at peace. I feel at ease. I feel you. I feel happiness.

Our stories, or I should put it 'our memories,' began like this and ended like this, and please don't ask me how our stories began and ended, for you know clearly without my recollections.

What you don't know is my life after you're gone. So, you should know that I feel your smell lingering in the air every time the smell of jasmine passes through the wind to my nose. I then turn around to check if I would, though I know clearly that I will not, see you again. At that moment, the surroundings become deadly silent. The barking dogs turn mute. The pale moon hides herself behind the cloud. The wind suddenly stops blowing. The smell suddenly disappears. Everything, or maybe I imagine it, stands still except me driving under the dim light shone by an almost broken street lamp and tears welling up in my eyes because I fully understand that no one will be waiting for me at home. No one will be comforting me when I rest on the couches in the darkness. No one...