Liberty is an Answer

I cannot remember a time when I asked my father for the meaning of life.

During the course of our lives together, I have neither received an implied answer nor a definitive the-purpose-of-life-is… statement from my mentor. As an alternative to providing me with the answer to this most difficult question, he just supplied me with the basic rights of man a la UDHR.

This liberty to search for the meaning of life and the meaning in life is his greatest gift to me. In his household, he set very few mandatory rules. Rules that are obviously fundamental, e.g. don’t take drugs, study every time you can, and perform your assigned chores well. My father, with little influence to his bias, did not deny me of pursuing my curiosities (on condition that he knows they will not inflict pain, and if there are degrees of harm involved, he will caution me). He led me to have the backbone to be inquisitive then discover on my own.

I claim the right to liberty. And promise to be responsible with this freedom.

You are born free, with equal right and dignity as anyone else my son. You will also not get an answer from me but you will have the freedom to search for it yourself with your mother’s and my guidance, but emancipated from anything compulsory.

When my father closed his eyes in agony on 8 April 2008, I am not sure if he found the answer. But I am sure he had a 62-year fun searching for it.

My Books for You

Takder, my son, as early as this time, I am going to introduce you to my books. All of them are yours already. Please find time to read most of them. I hope you find quiet fulfillment, enjoyment, practical guidance, stir curiosity in you and a wider, deeper understanding in these written wealth as much as I have. Your mother will tell you how much I love them. I can only hope you regard them as much- if not more- than I do.

Somebody instructed quite politely that “you read all the best books first for you will not have time to read them all.”

I cannot disregard the presence of the Bible and other spiritual books. They were the first ones I read completely and it would not be unfair to tell you that I have amassed many a life lessons from them. Now, as you will eventually know that I have become “non-religious”, understand that this does not affect my belief that religious books will benefit you also.

If you already have the faculties for it- commence reading seriously the Peter Singer as early as you can. It is not that he is controversial as much as his discourses on ethics and “pain” that drew my thoughts to “kindness-goodness.” Whatever quenches your curiosity I am sure there is a published book on it. You can read about a topic piece-meal (like with P. Singer) or be transported into a fictional dimension as Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Milan Kundera.

On Science and the physical world, I am blessed to have seen Carl Sagan on TV as a young boy. Read him early too before your generation venerate Stephen Hawking. You know I have read so many C. S. books; found more enjoyment and have benefited with more information from him than in all of my classroom studies. However, I guess you will surpass the common language of C.S. only to be drawn devouring S.H. someday.

I have this feeling that your generation will not have as great scientists/humans living in the same generation as these 2 have. Will your generation have a substitute for them? Will your generation have (a) science spokesperson(s) too?

To be continued…

The Orange Dragonfly Kite

If I write memories of you, you will have something to read when you get bored when you grow older. When you have reached my age, I think it would be “cool” to read something from your father.

Now take a look at this picture. Your mother, you and I treated ourselves to this paradise called Bohol Island in the summer of 2007. We went to a lot of places. For this particular picture, we were in front of the Bohol Beach Club early in the morning. Why early morning- you might ask. Your mother has asked that we avoid the damaging ultraviolet rays of the sun “that attacks after 10 A.M.” hence, we enjoy before that deadline.

This orange dragonfly kite you are pulling is a cheap (commercial-mass-produced-Made in China) replacement for the beautiful kite I made for you.

I fashioned for you the small kite of the century. It was a Gurion-style flying contraption and is only made of combinations of select raw materials and modern, high-grade, high density paper with prints that say: Inquirer Obituary. The intricately criss-crossing frames are bamboo strips indigenous to the Camotes Islands of Cebu and are soaked in sea water both for strength and pliability. And the design- the design is two different sizes of elliptical outline for aerodynamics. Your mother had doubts that the kite I made for you would fly because it looked funny. I told here that the funny look only adds to its character. (You will discover that your Nanay is the president of the Anti-Tatay’s Project International).

Anyway, for its maiden flight, the small kite of the century flew in a conspicuous location, while I was standing in a ramp atop a tall coral formation and nobody was watching. It was basking in the calm breeze when out of the blue a monster of a strong wind blew and sent our kite to the side of the sharp coral walls. Ah No! The kite of the century did not die immediately but rather it gave a fight longer than I could withstand. In fact, by the time we left Camotes Island, it was still clinging to the sides of the big rock hoping against odds that it will have the chance to fly again- alone this time, without its maker’s company.

Nevertheless, I did not want this catastrophe to hinder our fun together with a kite, so I convinced your mother to help me purchase a kite for you. Consequently, the three of us went to a glorified-department store they locally call a mall, purchased this orange dragonfly kite for you, which you did not like in the first place. But you had so much fun when you discovered (and also to my astonishment) that this cheap replacement kite can actually fly.

Yes Takder, we had amusement together with this orange kite. We waited for a good breeze, I lifted it, you pulled, and then you ran. You were beautiful my son. I hope to keep this image in my mind forever.

Never mind the small kite of the century, I can always teach you to make kites.

Of Barbers, Fathers and Sons

On Sundays, and most evenings of the week, I work part-time as cashier in the local barbershop.

Yesterday we had an unusual onslaught of fathers bringing their sons for a hair cut. You can imagine my thoughts throughout the day. There were obnoxious sons and there were obnoxious fathers; there were, of course, obnoxious father and son teams. Sometimes, we get quiet father and son teams. All the time I know the fathers were having fun with their sons- for it seems to me that this act of cutting hair in the presence of many other males and performed by an experienced barber (equated as a shaman) appears to be a primitive village ritual. And the fathers are proud to have a son. While contemplating on the times we had together in a barbershop, I cannot help but succumb to envy that I do not have you with me right now. We had many barbershop experiences, spanning from Ilocos in the north to Cebu in the south. I will write about them sometime.

Meanwhile, my mind is transfixed to these fortunate fathers who are delighting in their “quality time” at the same time showing-off their off-spring. Quite suddenly but expectedly, I am saddened by the fact that I (and perhaps several millions of fathers in foreign lands) have relinquished this same opportunity due to fear of economics. My father made the right decision to stay with us at the expense of a better palette. I would surely regret that the time I have not spent with you will never be replaced by ANYTHING.

One of these days I will grow some brass balls and not be afraid of economics.

First of many

Dear Takder,


I have been contemplating and drafting the start of these letters for you for almost two weeks now.

Prepare to know me better despite our gaps in age, geography, and probably, opinions. I hope you discover in these writings, some meaning in the mundane and the modest caricature in every solemn line.


Tatay