Category Archives: papa

a colony in mars.

If they’re talking about it already, it will happen. When the technology is available, someone is already doing it somewhere. A forward-looking man that he was, the idea of technology always enchanted Papa. He was the one who bought the first musical instrument to his family, when he was younger. It was an accordion. The […]

another accident.

There was a period in my childhood when I could not stop asking questions. I remember asking these questions mostly to my late father. A period within this period is when I continuously asked questions about death. Not about death per se, but about what could kill a human being. This might have been connected […]

the world.

“Dunia, dunia,” Papa used to sing and sigh out with a smile. I grew up hearing this: the world, the world. Such is the world. He left it with a smile. I remember telling him in his comatose, it’s okay, Pa, Zeno’s just arrived in Jakarta. There might be a delay with his continuing flight, […]

beat deaf.

After injecting anesthetic on my arm, they started operating on it. I could feel something, but it felt like there was a thick barrier between my arm and their operating devices. This is what it feels like: like reading something written on a sheet of paper lying under hundreds of sheets of transparencies. I can […]

to live.

Turbulence. Nothing new. The roughest one I’ve had so far, though. The woman sitting next to me held on tightly to her seat. She closed her eyes tightly, and mumbled something. A prayer, maybe, obviously. Or perhaps promises? Her heart beat faster, by the look of it. I thought of Kiki, her recently-developed, self-grown fear of flight […]