Sabaydii,

 

Here is the continuation of a series ‘Coming home’ entitled ‘On the way to Thakek[1]’

 

Hakphaang,

 

 

Since the Japanese left us

One of them an architect

Couldn’t sit in the back seat

Dizzy he said

I then take the front seat

 

Couldn’t put into words

What a view around me

Muang Lao at her best

Lush forest covered both sides of the road

As far as the eyes could see

 

Then out of nowhere

A big vacant lot

Devoid of any big tall trees

Crept in before my very own eyes

 

Was told

A big chunk of our country’s forest

Was forever gone

Very much like the sad picture

Troubling my soul in front

 

I remember

Back in 1960s

Flying in a helicopter

Looking down through its open door

I saw nothing below

But green patches of land

Trees and trees everywhere

 

Dad

Like other patriots

Loved and treasured everyone of them

Knowing what a treasure

This land was bestowed with

 

Wouldn’t believe my ears

Couldn’t trust my eyes

This beautiful land would be soon

Bereft of this irreversible treasure

 

[2]

 

And gone with it

Also Deer wild roosters

Rich soil

And our soul as well

Was told

General Cheng or something

King of area

Reaping the spoils of the country

Making it known

Who really ruled this land

 

This is Muang Lao

Now and then

What is the difference?

Will that ever change?

 

Our driver

Eking out a living

Trekking all over the country

Had nothing nice to say

But pure scorn

For our ‘benevolent’ leaders

And protectors

From whom?

From what?

 

He told me

At the direst days

When sacrifice was needed

When the Thai blockaded the country

And when revolution was the only hope left

Everything was given for the land he loved

Even money to buy a can of milk

For his only baby

 

Alas

This is what people like him

Get in return

 

As our pick-up moved along

Thought ran up in my mind

For what this land could be

For what damage the revolution had caused

And for the wishes and dreams dashed

Before they could ever take off

 

With the many bridges built by the Japanese

Along route 13

Link Quon Lao together?

Will they ever patch up the scars

Left by centuries of distrust?

And will they take us to a place

We can only dream of?

 

With the window rolled down

I let the sweltering Lao air

Brush my rosy cheeks

Carrying my tired soul

To a long long way

 

8.13.03