As a child growing up, I've been fortunate enough to have beautiful memories. I've had memories of a young girl traveling, transiting in Osaka, abroad a plane to California. This path was not a one-off event, but was an occurrent event. It happened every year. Mostly before Christmas. I am not a Christian. Nor am I a Buddhist. But I was a person who was fortunate. Fortunate to have a house in the California. Rowland Heights to be exact. Rowland Heights, was not my first memories in 'our house' in the States. We had our first house somewhere nearby, but as for now, I cannot remember the name of the street. All I do remember is that it had a stair case up to the mountains. I remember this, along with one of my earliest memories of 'the few people' in my life. My earliest memories cased a few. A few of those individuals. Those individuals whose characters - despite time, connection and distance apart, remains solid like a permanent mark at the back of your mind. The kinds of people that befriended by parents, despite their differences.

Today I lost someone. An individual who made that very mark at the back of my mind. As a child, I had him in each and every scene of my memories, especially those in California. I have a memory of asking someone I knew where he was, and he was still at work. I felt that my time in America, would never be in the same without him in the picture. What picture, you may ask? The picture of him with a Budweiser in his hand, and in the other, grilling the beef and chicken over the barbecue by the pool that no one ever used, during Winter. The picture of him teasing me, with the same jokes over and over again, "Nan, tell Pete, Pee the Wee Straw, Devil's Son in Law". He was there during my 'witch-phase'... Where I would be sitting in my backyard under my tree with foil covered leaves just withstanding the L.A. lights. My cooking + playground contests. And those delicious cakes he would bring over. They were just to die for. Sara Lee could just go fuck herself. It was from 'Ar' Pong. My Thai friend living his life in California. On Christmas Day, my dad and him would decide to 'surprise' us with a Clown at the doorway and towards the end of the evening, a very, very good raffles. We had cheques! But most importantly, we were together. We kept busy. We had fun. We had fun in that very living room. I remember the Christmas tree, the presents all wrapped up - like it was yesterday. The barbecue at the backyard, against the rush cold breeze, and the 'spicy green sauce' Trisha and I shared with our salad inside with our lettuce and tomatoes.

I am glad you were my Uncle. I am just sorry that I could not have been there to tell you my experiences of these past years.  You made me laugh, and you were family. And now, angels are leading you in. 

"L'Hymne à l'amour" - อยู่เถอะในปัจจุบัน

ในช่วงเวลาสามปีมีอะไรผ่านไปตั้งเยอะ. แต่วันนี้คิดว่าจะกลับมาเริ่ม 'blog' ใหม่อีกสักที...
บทเพลงที่มีความหมายมากกับเราในช่วงนี้เป็นบทเพลงเกี่ยวกับความรัก. เราเคยคิดว่าคนเราจะมีความรักที่ยิ่งใหญ่ในชีวิตจริงๆได้ไม่เกินเพียงคนๆเดียว. ในช่วงเวลาที่เรามีใคร คนนั้นมักจะเป็นคนๆนั้นของเรา (a.k.a. 'My Person) โดยส่วนตัวก็จะคิดต่อไปว่ามันจะไม่มีใครอีกแล้วที่จะมาแทนที่ตรงนั้นของเขาได้
แต่ตอนนี้ ความรัก ที่จะ 'ใหญ่' หรือ 'เล็ก' มันไม่ใช่สาระ... ความรักนั้น คือสิ่งสวยงามที่เตือนเราเสมอให้เราอยู่ในปัจจุบัน Don't think about the past too much or concern yourself with what may or may not happen. But take it as a very gift that is present.

"L'Hymne à l'amour"  เป็นบทเพลงที่สะท้อนให้เห็นถึงการต้องอยู่ในปัจจุบันและทำให้มันดีที่สุดก่อนที่ทุกอย่างมันจะสายไป... เป็นเพลงของ Edith Piaf ที่แต่งให้กับ Marcel Cerdan นักมวยชาว ฝรั่งเศษ เชื้อสายโมร็อกโก ที่เป็นแชมป์โลกรุ่นมิดเดิ้ลเวท เมื่อปี 1948 โดยรวมแล้ว ชีวิตรักของ Edith นั่น หวือหวา เธอมีคนรักหลายคน ต่างเวลาต่างความหมายที่นำมาสู่ความรักนั้นๆ แต่คนที่เธอรักที่สุดคือ Marcel. ใครๆอาจจะสงสัยว่าทำไม ความรักระหว่างเธอกับเขาถึงจะเป็นเรื่องที่ผู้อื่นรับรู้ได้ถึง- นั่นก็เพราะว่าหลังจาก Marcel พ่ายแชมป์โลกไปให้กับ Jack LaMotta ในปี 1949 เขาทั้งคู่ก็ได้มีกำหนดการทวงเข็มขัดแชมป์คืนที่ Madison Square Gardens, New York City ในวันที่ 2 December 1949 แต่ไม่กี่วันก่อนวันขึ้นชก Marcel ได้เสร็จสิ้นภาระกิจของการอุ่นเครื่องและฝึกซ้อม จึงตัดสินใจบินไป New York จากเมือง Troyes. เขาไม่มีวันที่จะได้เจอเธออีก เพราะ เครื่องบินตกที่ในหมู่เกาอซอร์เรส กลาง Atlantic Ocean in Portuguese territories.

"L'Hymne à l'amour" จึงเป็นเพลงที่ Edith แต่งให้ชายที่เธอรัก เนื้อความแปลเป็นภาษาไทยอยู่ข้างล่าง:

Le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer
Et la terre peut bien s'écrouler
Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes
Je me fous du monde entier

Tant qu'l'amour inondera mes matins
Tant que mon corps frémira sous tes mains
Peu m'importe les problèmes
Mon amour puisque tu m'aimes

J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde
Je me ferais teindre en blonde
Si tu me le demandais

J'irais décrocher la lune
J'irais voler la fortune
Si tu me le demandais

Je renierais ma patrie
Je renierais mes amis
Si tu me le demandais

On peut bien rire de moi
Je ferais n'importe quoi
Si tu me le demandais

Si un jour la vie t'arrache à moi
Si tu meurs que tu sois loin de moi
Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes
Car moi je mourrais aussi

Nous aurons pour nous l'éternité
Dans le bleu de toute l'immensité
Dans le ciel plus de problèmes
Mon amour crois-tu qu'on s'aime

Dieu réunit ceux qui s'aiment

ฉันไม่สนใจหรอกนะว่าโลกนี้จะหมุนไปทางใด
ไม่สนใจหรอกนะว่าฟ้าจะร้องสั่นสะเทือนแค่ไหน
และยิ่งไม่สนใจหากแผ่นดินจะแห้งแล้งเร่าร้อน

ฉันไม่สนใจหรอกนะว่าจะเกิดอะไรขึ้น
ตราบนานเท่านานที่ความรักของเธอจะโอบอุ้มฉันไว้
ในยามเช้าที่ฉันตื่นขึ้น ในยามที่เธอกอดฉันไว้ในอ้อมแขนฉัน

ไม่สนใจหรอกนะแม้ความรักของเราจะมีปัญหา
ไม่สนใจหรอกนะไม่ว่าความรักของเราจะมีอุปสรรคมากเท่าใด
และยิ่งไม่สนใจอะไรทั้งนั้น ตราบใดที่เธอยังรักฉัน
ฉันขอเพียงให้เธอรักฉันเท่านั้น

หากเธอกล้าถามหาบทพิสูจน์ความรักของฉัน
ฉันเองก็ยินดีหากจะพิสูจน์ให้เธอรู้ว่า
ฉันยินดีที่จะออกเดินทางไปทุกที่
ทำทุกอย่างตามกำลังเท่าที่มีเพื่อพิสูจน์ให้เธอเห็นถึงความรักของฉัน

ฉันยอมทุกอย่าง..ยอมเพื่อเธอเสมอมา
ฉันยอมเดินทางค้นหาไปสุดขอบโลก
ยอมเดินทางแสนไกลไปถึงดวงจันทร์
ยอมแลกค่ำคืนเริงระบำกับหมู่เพือน
ยอมแลกทุกสิ่งที่ฉันมีอยู่เพียงเพื่ออย่างเดียว..เพื่อความรักของเธอเท่านั้น
เพื่อให้เธอรู้ว่าฉันรักเธอมากเพียงใด

ฉันรู้ว่าความรักของฉันมันน่าหัวเราะ
บางทีเธออาจจะเห็นมันไม่มีค่า
แต่ฉันไม่สนใจหรอกว่าเธอจะเห็นมันมีค่าหรือไม่
เพราะฉันยอมทุกอย่างแล้ว..เพื่อที่จะได้รักเธอ

หากวันหนึ่งชะตาชีวิตดึงเธอให้ห่างจากฉันไป
ไม่ว่าจะเป็นจากชะตาหรือความตาย
ไม่ว่าตอนนั้นหัวใจเธอเป็นเช่นไร
โปรดจงรู้ไว้ว่าหัวใจของฉันก็แหลกสลายไปด้วยเฉกเดียวกัน

พระเจ้าให้เรามาเจอกันเพื่อความรักอันเป็นนิรันดร์
ภายใต้ผืนฟ้าสีน้ำเงินกว้างแห่งอุปสรรคอันยิ่งใหญ่
โปรดเชื่อฉันเถอะนะว่ารักของเรามีอยู่จริง
และโปรดเชื่อฉันเถอะนะว่าเรารักกัน
โปรดเชื่อเถอะนะว่าเรารักกัน



- My heart and prayers goes out to those in Paris. Hoping that everyone will pass through this time heart breaking time of tragedy with courage and strength.

After 7 years of violence, what have these photographs from the deep south told or given meanings for us to see and interpret? It seems that pictures of key events in other places on Earth have given new meanings to us. Deep South Photographers have also created a large number of sophisticated photographs. Let's look at the picture of the sign near the entrance to the Tanah Putih village in Bannang Sata District, Yala Province, which was taken in 2005. This sign would have no meaning if there were no letters in red being sprayed over it. The letters were in the Melayu language which read "Patani Merdeka" or "Liberation of Patani". The picture becomes more meaningful when the Malay man in the sarong who was riding his motorcycle with a little boy in the pillion seat look at it. He might have stopped the motorcycle to look at the sign with interest, but the puzzle here is that the picture did not allow us to see his eyes, which could be showing bepuzzlement, fear, or satisfaction.

What is more interesting is that the little boy on the motorcycle had a rather uncomfortable look in his eyes and in the way he acted. He might not know the meaning of what was happening around him. He might not know why the grown-ups had to stop the motorcycle. He might be wondering what the photographer was doing in front of him, or he might not be happy that a stranger was looking into his private space. If we looked at this man as the center of the picture, we would see that he was being a witness and an observer to the fight between the two identities in the conflict in the deep south: the identity of the Thai state vs. that of the insurgents. By whatever name we call them, this struggle is not yet over and will continue as long as the doubts and the puzzle in this photograph are still unsolved... 

Tonight my thoughts rests down South.

This picture was taken from the aftermath of the massacre at Al-Furqan Mosque in Ai-Payer Village, Chuab Sub-District, Cho-airong District, Narathiwat Province, on 8 June 2009. The cruelty from the violence of the killing was reflected in the picture of a bullet hole in a glass panel of the Mosque. The impressive point of this photograph is the doubtful eyes of a Muslim Malay boy on the massacre in the Mosque that was looking through the cracked glass and the bullet hole. When looking back through the perspective of the viewer, as external observer, we may be able to see the breaks, the pain, and the cracks that are in the heart of this little boy which reflects the community that is being a victim of the violence. This boy might be seeing something that we, as the observers, could not see. It did not appear in the picture, but what is the truth? Who fired all the bullets? From this scene of pain, the boy might have the answer in his heart but he could not say it out loud. The bitter truth is that even today, no one knows the answer, even the state itself.

 

"If you could hear me, I would say that our finger prints don't fade from the lives we've touched.."

We don't value life- without knowing that there is certainty of death. Even with this certainty our valuation of life must also be reminded. Let be through the experiences of others, through films, through novels, or even just by witnessing an accident on the side of the road. We do not value people, if we do not remind ourselves that there is a chance of them leaving us- a way, another. We don't value time if we don't remind ourselves that the minutes in our lives are in fact numbered and inevitably limited. We do not value happiness if we never encountered or had the bitter taste of sorrow or the emptiness of remorse. Your values come to your senses like a bright light that emerges from total blackness when you realize that there is nothing you can ever take for granted. Like the minutes, and seconds in your life that are numbered everything in this world has a plausible opposite and a definite date of expiry.

Sometimes I wonder the purpose of life itself. You do not choose the family in which you'd be a newborn to, but you grow to learn of the strangers you come to call your mom, your dad, your sisters and your brother. We are all in fact strangers coexisting in this "immediate reality" under "these circumstances."What is the purpose in this life we're put in? What is the meaning when at the end of it all, through time, it may eventually account or add up to "nothing"? What is the importance of relationships when at the end of it all, you are born into this world alone and will die alone? I have no answers. But I do know that these relationships that we forge through different scenarios, may it be the family ties we build or even with strangers we meet in a bar, are fruitful bonds that would continually keep us company through this confusing journey we call "life."

I've recently been going to a few funerals this past year. And a question always pops up in my mind. How many people would be attending "my" funeral? Of course, I'd be lying cold, dead in the coffin by then, but it would be interesting to know. Perhaps the purpose of life is to live the life in a way that characterizes who you "are" so that you'd be living in the minds of those standing around your coffin. I've been to funerals of those who have lived- truly lived- though a short life, but a full life. A friend of mines had died earlier this year, it was an unfortunate and unexpected death. The beauty of his character and wonderful bonds he had forged during this course of his life was evident at his funeral. It was tragic to see him lie there with his eyes closed, lifeless and still. Yet he had lived fully and this was shown in the eyes of hundreds of people attending his funeral. Some even made their ways across the oceans and lands just to attend on such a sudden notice. The lives in which he touched resonated from the teary eyes of those who were there- and also those who could not make it. In the bitterness and unfairness of life itself, there was a beauty. A beauty in the meaning of friendships. A beauty in the power of love that was shown so evidently that very day. This is the ultimate reason of all reasons, this was why along his way through life, he was able to live it fully and to let the memories live on in the relationships- the friendships he had forged along the way with strangers who became family and friends. He didn't just "pass away" but through friends and family he is still alive in their memories - all because he lived a full and a beautiful life.

My grandmother's sister passed away earlier this month. She was in a semi-coma for almost twenty years. When she lived she was loved by friends and family. However, these twenty or so years, had erased most friends, past lovers, ex-husbands out of her reality. All she had left truly were her siblings that stood by her side, aided her through the truth in those words "thick and thin." When she lived, I believe she was a kind and gentle soul. But most of those - who turned up to her funeral were her family members. Nieces and nephews whom knew her for such a short time. Most of us, knew that this day was coming. It was bound to arrive one day another and we were in fact relieved that she was now in a better place. She was no longer just lying in bed, lifeless. She has been moved from the small hospital bed, to the bed of the sea. Back into the arms of mother nature as she had fallen asleep into a peaceful and long awaited bliss. This had me thinking once again. Two deaths, bound to me by relations. Yet one was so sudden, so immediate, so unexpected. It made me realize that the reason I did not cry at my grandma's sister's funeral was because through time I had expected it, and I had said my proper goodbye. But the immediate death of my friend. A young man who was supposed to have graduated, and started his career was not. From these few experiences I have shared, I have come up with a conclusion that every life and every death changes life in its own way. So whatever you do in life- though it may seem insignificant- for instance a hug to your baby sister, or a morning kiss to your father at breakfast, even though you still harbor the anger of him waking you up so early for breakfast- it is very important you do it anyway.

Death can hit us in every sort of way. With an illness that is detected, as unfair as it seems, there is still the gift of "time" that can console us, you may not feel it now but once you've grasped a grip of it, you'd sure feel lucky you have time to say goodbye to your loved ones that walked along your sides through this journey. But with an accident, an unexpected course of fate- one may say twisted fate, goodbyes are not said nor heard. It is okay to fight sometimes with those you love. It is inevitable. But I feel it is important- just so important- to let them know that you love them each and every day. Because you really do not know, if it'd be your last... Remember that tomorrow- and death is lying on a very thin thread. So make sure that those strangers you've come to call loved ones knows how you feel...

Bonne nuit from Bangkok..