The Pier

The old man was sitting on his chair outside the house, staring out at the ocean. Again. I wordlessly took my place beside him, leaning against the wall.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It is the same dream again. A baby's cries, a telephone ringing in the night, a woman's voice, speaking in hushed tones. That raspy voice. A door opening. And then I wake up, in sweat. For three nights now."

"For the third time, I will ask you: Why are you telling me?"

I didn't know.

"How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"And you don't remember anything."

"I don't."

He leaned back, "We remember what we choose to remember. Actually, you have been here for almost two months. You were just in a coma during much of that time. Two months ago, you jumped from that cliff. My granddaughter saw you jump and ran to me, pulling at my arm, gesturing wildly. We got the police over. It was a miracle you didn't die.

But maybe it is a curse. You were looking to die. No one who jumped from that cliff wouldn't have wanted to die. My friend tried to kill himself from there, just like you did. You were probably like him, trying to run away from something.

Trying to seek salvation in the sea."

**

"But you are naïve to think you can run away just like that. To think you can end it just like that. No, you can never get out. It is a bottomless Hell. Endless agony. Condemnation. He was condemned, condemned to eternal damnation for his betrayal. For betraying his comrades to save himself. That poor damned soul. As if he had one. He tried to kill himself, but he didn't die. God wouldn't let him get away with it just like that. That would be too light a punishment. Don't you agree?"

"It isn't your friend's story, is it? It is your story," I spoke for the first time.

He froze, but recovered his composure. "Come over, young lady. Don't stand behind me. Come to me."

I walked gingerly over to his side. He turned his head towards me and raised a hand. "You have a raspy voice…Bend lower, let me touch your face…I can't see very well…"

I did as he was told, and felt his hand on my face. His fingers, his palm, were rough.

"What is a pretty lady like you doing in this godforsaken place?"

"I am looking for someone."

"A man."

"A man," I affirmed.

"Who is he?"

"My husband."

"Why are you looking for him here… this is a place where only the hopeless come to. Like me, an old man waiting to die. Like my granddaughter, mute, abandoned by her useless mother. Like a man trying to kill himself. Why would your husband, married to a pretty wife like you, be here?"

**

"I had an affair with a colleague. It was on an overseas trip. I got pregnant. He didn't say a thing, but I know he suspected. I thought of abortion, creating an accident to have a miscarriage, but I didn't have the guts to do it. I gave birth to a baby girl. At first everything was all right, he seemed to have banished his doubts. We seemed to be a happy young family. Then the phone calls started coming. It was the father. He was telling me he wanted to see his daughter, that he wouldn't let us shut him out of it. I was terrified. I couldn't let him destroy everything. And then one day, he showed up at the door. I opened it and tried to get him to leave. Then my husband came down to see what the commotion was."

She broke down, falling to her knees. "After that he left. He packed his bags and left."

I put my arm around her shoulder, and she buried her face in mine.

"Why are you looking for him? Do you think he will come back to you?" I asked gently, brushing my fingers through her hair.

"I just want to know if he is all right."

"Does it mean a lot to you to know?"

Sobbing uncontrollably, she nodded.

"He was here," I whispered into her ear.

She looked up.

"He was here for 2 months. He left three days ago."

"How is he?"

"He is doing good. He was sad at first. But he is all right now. He has found salvation."

She looked at me with wide eyes. "Is he really all right?"

I nodded. "Now, go. Your daughter needs you."

**

After she left, I was all alone again. I stared at the rundown pier. I couldn't really see, but in my head, I was imagining my granddaughter walking the length of the pier, the planks creaking with every step she took. Right at the end, she would stop and place a bouquet of flowers, close her eyes for a prayer, and then walk back. It has been her routine for three days now.

I closed my eyes, listening to the ocean, enjoying a few moments of quiet before my granddaughter's return.

supporting arsenal

i have been supporting arsenal since 1996. more than half my life. probably for the rest of my life.

i have been thinking.

for a season where we are supposed to drop out of the top 4, we have started well. we go into international week 5 points behind chelsea with a game in hand, level on points with manchester united, ahead on goal difference and with a game in hand.

we have scored freely, but have gifted away soft goals. the latter must change.

nick hornby said recently that arsenal fans are spoilt, because of the kind of football they watch week in, week out. indeed, if you watch arsenal play, and you watch other games, you start wondering why do you even bother.

nick hornby wrote fever pitch, an autobiography based on his relationship with arsenal. it is a book i would like to read, but i fear it is a book i may not identify with, because the arsenal hornby grew up with, and the arsenal i grew up with are essentially different teams.

i have been watching old arsenal clips. the previous teams of arsene wenger. past players like tony adams, patrick vieira, marc overmars, dennis bergkamp, thierry henry, gilberto silva, robert pires, freddy ljungberg.

it brings back so many memories.

football has changed alot. football will continue to change. whether for better or worse.

i think people tend to look back on the football they saw when they were young, and talk about the good old days. and the teams of arsene wenger will be teams i talk about when i grow old.

you know, arsene wenger won't be around forever. he will leave a legacy behind. a legacy that i pray will withstand the test of time.

because if i have kids, there is only one team they will support, and that is arsenal football club. and i hope the arsenal they will be watching will be the team that plays football, like the team today.

have you ever watched arsenal play?

i think people who write off, who belittle arsenal don't understand what arsenal is about.

go watch arsenal play.

it is a joy, a love, a belief, a philosophy, a way of life.

as nick hornby said: people who don't enjoy arsenal's football can't really like football very much.

my top 5 arsenal moments
october 23, 1999
nwankwo kanu's last minute winner from a tight angle, completing his 15-minute hattrick and the 3-2 comeback victory over chelsea at stamford bridge.

march 2,2002
newcastle 0-2 arsenal
pires pass, bergkamp's flick, goal. voted by arsenal fans as the greatest goal.

april 9, 2004
a thierry henry-inspired comeback against liverpool in 2004. we were watching the game at wei ming's place. arsenal were down 2-1 at half-time. henry got his second with a solo goal, then completed his hattrick as arsenal won 4-2.

april 1, 2006
arsenal 5-0 aston villa.
it was the season of contrast. we would reach the champs league final in paris, but on the domestic front, it was a disaster. although we recorded big wins like this. our inconsistency had cost us.
van persie's goal was wicked. it seemed as though he had taken the ball too far, but a defender slipped, and somehow he left the keeper flapping at thin air as he toyed with the keeper before blasting the ball home.

january 22, 2007
arsenal 2-1 manchester united 1
83rd minute, cross sent in, henry flicked the ball under his foot to the back post, van persie arrived and slammed the ball in.
thierry henry would rise to head home a cross in the last minute to seal the victory.

July 16, 2008

Today is an important day of my life. Today, I say goodbye to many things, many beautiful things in my life. Things that were once important to me. Even now, even in the future, when I look back on them, I can only smile and have fond memories of them.

But I know it is time to let go and move on. It is not an easy decision to make, because these things have been such a big part of my life. Even right up till the very end, more than anyone else, I have always believed, I have always been there, I have always fought, and I have never given up.

I feel that sometimes people take things for granted, do not cherish, appreciate some things enough. Maybe it is because they have always had other options, other alternatives. I have never had much, only these. So I have always been holding tightly, not letting go.

But what is important to you may not be as important to other people. So in the past months, I realize I have mostly been alone. It is not easy to be fighting alone. It is not easy to be the one shouldering the responsibility all the time. At some point in time, you feel totally alone out there, and I can tell you, it is very overwhelming; humbling, even. Many people can laugh about this, but they don't understand loneliness. They claim to, but they don't.

The last few months have been mostly disappointment. Even amidst this, I have held on…yet the questions keep coming…so much so that I have to start asking myself some questions…questions that I have always tried to avoid. And this is the conclusion I have arrived at.

It is not a decision made on impulse, but one reached after careful thought. To come to it, to admit that it's the end, that I have done all that I could, that I have nothing more to give…it took a lot of courage, because I think even the people closest to me do not realize how important these things were to me.

People may say I have changed. I haven't. Deep down, nothing has changed. I am just realigning myself, as others have done so before me. This is nothing to be proud about, but I am the last.

That is why, today, I can stand here and face tomorrow without any regrets. It feels as though a huge load have been taken off my shoulders.

A Wine Story

“I am sorry, Miss, but we are closed.”

He called out, “It’s all right.”

“Ok...I shall get going then. Bye!”

He raised an arm in acknowledgement, then beckoned her in. “I have been waiting for you.”

She stepped in, and surveyed her surroundings briefly, before proceeding to the bar.

“You have come for this, haven’t you?” he asked, producing a glass container with a bottle of wine in it. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

She smiled. “I almost forgot about it. You are closed already right? So I should get going. Thanks for waiting…”

“Well, you can stay if you want to.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can I drink it here?”

“Sure.” He took the container from her.

“Will you drink with me?” she asked.

“Well, technically, I am not supposed to,” he replied, handing her the rolled-up message kept with the bottle.

“But you are the boss. Make an exception today. For me. Please.”

“All right,” he said.

She unrolled the message and read it silently. Then, she put it aside, stifling a tear.

“Everything all right?” he asked casually, placing a glass of the wine in front of her.

She smiled and nodded. She took the glass and raised it. “Cheers…”

“Cheers,” he acknowledged.

“Happy Birthday to me. Belated,” she added on.

“It is your birthday?”

“It was my birthday.”

“Still, happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you. You know, this is my birthday gift for myself.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “I am not sure if I deserve it.”

“Do you remember the you who came in here a year ago?”

She looked up.

“A year ago…”

“A year and a day ago,” she corrected.

“A year and a day ago. I still remember the girl who walked in here that day.”

“What was she like?”

“She was sitting right here, sipping her wine.”

“She was crying right? She was just breaking down…a pathetic sight, right?”

“She was trying her best not to cry. She was trying to be strong.”

She sniffed and looked away.

“In the end, she let it all out. She felt much better after that. Before she left, she reserved a wine to be opened a year from that day. She promised to come back for the wine, happier.”

Her eyes were shut.

“Tell me, how have you been this past year? Do you remember the promise?”

“I thought I could leave him. I thought I could end it once and for all. But I couldn’t. The moment he called, the moment I heard his voice on the phone again, everything fell apart. It’s like walking along a dark road, and you have been warned to never turn back when your name is called, or you will be just sucked back into the darkness. I turned back.”

“Uh huh.”

“He told me he would leave his wife. He told me he would divorce her. We would go somewhere else. Start afresh. Just the two of us. I listened to all his words and believed him. But they were all lies. I woke up one day to find a note he left behind. He told me he still loves his wife, and they would try to make it work. For everyone’s sake, he would be taking up an overseas posting. He wouldn’t take my calls. I tried looking him up at his office, but they told me he was on leave, because he was leaving soon. I managed to find out the date he was flying off. I went to the airport, and saw the two of them. Smiling, laughing, hand in hand, walking through the gate. That was when my world fell apart. The moment someone is gone, that’s when you realize you love him.”

“You love a man like that?”

She laughed, “I am the mistress. Do I have any right to criticize?”

“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. He’s gone. Really gone. Just like that. 7 hours ago. His plane… must be somewhere over the Pacific now.”

He sucked in a breath of air.

“I am a loser right. Deep down, you must be laughing at me. A year ago, I came here, promising to move on. And one year on, I am back here again, same old story.”

“You were just trying to hold on to something dear to you. It is the inevitability of goodbye that hurts, isn’t it? That is why we are always trying to prolong it. Trying to stay awake for one more moment, because if we close our eyes, it will just end. A lingering gaze; a lingering touch of the hands... We don’t want it to end. We want to capture that moment, that magical moment forever. Like in a vial, or a time freeze. So that it becomes trapped forever. Eternity. But it is a paradox. How can it be eternity, if it is just standing still?”

She stared at him.

He laughed, “Ok, not exactly the topic to talk about at 3 a.m. But to cut a long story short. The magic is not in eternity or the moment that we try to freeze. The magic lies in the fact that it comes and goes. That there is a beginning and an end. Only when we accept the inevitability of goodbye and embrace it, can we treasure the memory and find peace within ourselves. And move on with life.”

She was still staring at him.

He smiled. “Think about it. Now, you have to go.”

She realized their glasses and the bottle were empty. “I guess I have to get going, huh. Get on with my life. Thank you for keeping me company. Do you think I could reserve a bottle to be opened a year from now?”

“I am afraid that is impossible. You see, yesterday was the last day. I am closing this place for good. I wanted to close it last year. But a girl came and made a reservation. So I waited for her. My work is done. It’s time for me to get on with my life.”