incommunicado
C once sent me this word of the day, on January 23, 2006:
"incommunicado \in-kuh-myoo-nuh-KAH-doh\, adverb or adjective:
Without the means or right to communicate."
i spent last night at my parents' place in the mountains.
a place up at the highest point in the area, north of beirut.
It's not a fancy place.
i used to call it "cocoon"; if you've seen cocoon, it is a movie about aliens who at the end take back to their planet a group of old people with them, to give them eternal life.
That is my parents' place; old people mostly, and families, spending summer playing cards and throwing backgammon tables at each other in a moment of defeat and anger.
i just saw on TV that they bombed that place. not the hotel itself, but mobile network radars next to it.
my parents are staying in a room that is hosting them and 5 members of my cousin's family right now. they all fled beirut and are staying there, with small means but much love.
they lay mattresses and sleep every night and wake up to two beautiful children singing and being children.
i fear for my aging father as he seems to adopt more and more of the children's behaviour.
i fear for the children as they adopt more and more of his.
they are, despite being crammed and living a simple life, lucky in these times.
the village is now filled with families that have fled the south.
they are living on the streets, next to the public fountain.
all that can be done is offer them blankets and mattresses.
and a smile when available.
today, the children must have stopped laughing.
i have been trying to contact any of my parents for one hour and cannot get through.
my only consolation is the only TV station that is still operating, as they bombed the other next to my house. They have not mentioned any casualties.
The safe harbour is no longer safe.
i heard planes, but i do not know anymore planes from the screaming electricity station gazing at me as i type, reminding me that i am a longtime dead.
i heard the explosion. i saw it disconnect me from my loved ones.
i sit. waiting for some news.
with a pain in my stomach. a pain i cannot express or detect. yet a vivid pain that reminds me i'm live.
are we alive?
rr
"incommunicado \in-kuh-myoo-nuh-KAH-doh\, adverb or adjective:
Without the means or right to communicate."
i spent last night at my parents' place in the mountains.
a place up at the highest point in the area, north of beirut.
It's not a fancy place.
i used to call it "cocoon"; if you've seen cocoon, it is a movie about aliens who at the end take back to their planet a group of old people with them, to give them eternal life.
That is my parents' place; old people mostly, and families, spending summer playing cards and throwing backgammon tables at each other in a moment of defeat and anger.
i just saw on TV that they bombed that place. not the hotel itself, but mobile network radars next to it.
my parents are staying in a room that is hosting them and 5 members of my cousin's family right now. they all fled beirut and are staying there, with small means but much love.
they lay mattresses and sleep every night and wake up to two beautiful children singing and being children.
i fear for my aging father as he seems to adopt more and more of the children's behaviour.
i fear for the children as they adopt more and more of his.
they are, despite being crammed and living a simple life, lucky in these times.
the village is now filled with families that have fled the south.
they are living on the streets, next to the public fountain.
all that can be done is offer them blankets and mattresses.
and a smile when available.
today, the children must have stopped laughing.
i have been trying to contact any of my parents for one hour and cannot get through.
my only consolation is the only TV station that is still operating, as they bombed the other next to my house. They have not mentioned any casualties.
The safe harbour is no longer safe.
i heard planes, but i do not know anymore planes from the screaming electricity station gazing at me as i type, reminding me that i am a longtime dead.
i heard the explosion. i saw it disconnect me from my loved ones.
i sit. waiting for some news.
with a pain in my stomach. a pain i cannot express or detect. yet a vivid pain that reminds me i'm live.
are we alive?
rr
posted by RR at 11:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home