Witness

The jeepney is almost empty when I jumped in. I avoided the seat near an old woman in ragged clothes and muddy feet. She's been carefully inspecting each corner and sides of the seat. She is looking for coins.

I held onto my bag tightly and activated my alert mode to be ready in case she suddenly decides to rob us other passengers. After passing a few streets with traffic gradually building up, a man with a backpack boarded our jeepney. He opened his bag, took out a bread and handed it to the old woman. She humbly said "Thank you." The woman took a bite of the generous bread before getting herself busy again with coin-hunting. Triumphantly picking up the seemed to be last coin she needed, she, without any delay, exclaimed "Bayad po!" The charitable man who was suppose to pass her fare to the driver refused to take the coins from her dirty hand and said "Keep it, I'll pay for you." "Thank you," she said as she turned her face away shyly.

My heart melted. My face growing pallid in guilt and embarrassment. How can I just witness something like this. I was unfair to quickly judge the old woman based on her external appearance. Now, she's just one person I wish I could be. She roughly has anything, and yet, she still wanted to be honest enough and pay for her own ride. I wish I have also been as sensitive and compassionate as the man who immediately offered assistance to the needy old lady. I wish, I wish I'll never be another unfair judge and witness again...

Choco Float

I gotta fix this terrible mood. That's why, I got myself one large chocolate float. The mood almost wanted to explode finding that there was no empty table for me. Crowded malls and restaurants, a sign that Christmas is nearing. I went to a four-seater table and shamelessly asked the two old men seated if they'd be willing to share their table with me. They seem not to mind at all. And I f****n' don't mind too. It's not cool to sit with two grandpa's? I'm not after babysitting my false ego right now.

I watched one of them clumsily pick up each piece of french fries, while the other one was making all effort in directing the burger to his mouth. They were taking their sweet time having their snacks as they talk about deep and old things. Across our table is a girl who keeps smiling at me. I keep smiling back at her too as if it is the only way I could respond. Maybe she's met me in the past, but I don't remember. When the old men were finished eating and are about to leave, I suddenly felt lonely, as if I'm gonna miss them. Even though they didn't even give a single drop of attention to me, it felt like I've enjoyed my entire chocolate indulgence with two grandpa's of my own. I checked for my smile-mate girl, but she too, has already left.

How I pitied myself, staring at the chocolate float glass I emptied. I felt some bright colors twirling inside me now, but I'm sure it isn't from the monochromatic chocolate float. It was from the smile of the stranger across our table. It was also from the company of the other two strangers who were kind enough to share a table with me. I realized that although we are strangers to each other, we opted to exhibit the human characteristic of kindness and warmth.

I learned my lesson. I'll never resort to a chocolate float again...

By the way, my two grandpa's are still here with me. They didn't leave yet for they heard that Garfield is about to come on stage. We are now like kids of the same age mocking that tall Garfield mascot dancing to the song "Oppa Gangnam Style."

Today Writer

As early as 10 years of age, pen and paper were her best pals. She didn't write poems. She didn't write essays. She wrote fictional stories. She wrote stories about adventure, tragedy, fantasy, drama, about friends, families and even young love.

More than 10 years later, the girl found her old scraps and notes. She read them, and laughed heartily for she finds them immaturely compelled to step up from innocence.

She stopped writing. Today, she writes again. Fictional stories are not on the list. She'll make poems and articles. Was the little fiction writer yesterday different from the trying hard poet today?

No, they are the same person. Yesterday was a daydreamer. Yesterday was a wishful child. Today is a woman, a woman trying to live in the real world. Same writer. But today, after many years, maybe she has had many experiences. Today, maybe she has more prolific, profound, and realistic or true to life stories to share.

Photo credit: http://ingridsnotes.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/girl-writing-in-journal.jpg

Defense of the Ancients

Takbong-lakad.

Nagmamadali.

Sa ika-sampung computer shop,

"'To na dapat ang huli."


Pawis na pawis,
Sa pagod ay baon.
Sa tonong tuyo't sa pasensya,
dagliang nagtanong.

Salamat hindi na
pinataas aking altapresyon
sapagkat magandang balita
ang kanyang tugon.

Colored ink,
sila'y mayroon!

Matapos silipin
dokumentong ii-imprenta,
"Hihintayin niyo po ba,
o babalikan na lamang?"

Kunwari'y nag-isip.
Nais ko'y magpahinga
kaya
"Hihintayin ko na lamang."

Ilang beses umikot
kamay ni Ginoong Orasan.
Bawat tanaw sa kanya,
si Inip nagbabadya.

Hanggang sa may pumasok
payat na binata.
Kapansin-pansin,
mga labing pulang-pula.

Kung umasta'y
'sang dalagitang suplada
na tinapunan ang mukha
ng pulbos na luma

"Dalawang oras po, kuya!"
Nakakagulantang niyang salita.
Dumikit aking mga mata
sa nagpapakadalaga.

Tamang-tama,
kay Inip, paalam na.

"Marahil, magfe-facebook siya
mga gwapo'y hanap niya.

Kung hindi naman, magpo-post siya
ng mga litratong ipapahusga."

Iyan ang nagmamatalino
at walang pasintabi kong teorya.

Matapos okupahan
pula ring salumpwet,
ibinaba ang mga gamit
at nagsuot ng headest.

Tila matindi
inihandang konsentrasyon.
Mga daliring bayolente
hampas dito, hampas do'n

Ginuhit na mga kilay
ay pinagsalubong.
Mga labing gigil,
pait ang umuusbong.

Ilang minuto ang lumipas,
hindi ako nakatiis.
Dahan-dahang tumayo
at marahan lumapit.
Sa nagpapakadalagang
may pantalong pitis,
tumaas ang isa kong kilay
at sa sarili'y nanliit.

Ang dala-dalagahang hinusgahang pilit
Sa larong DotA (Defense of the Ancients) naaakit...

Photo credit: http://www.freewebs.com/dota-stk/

For Sale!

Business. Everything in today's world is FOR SALE. Yet, nothing had enough price or value to be irreplaceable.

True love, true life is next to extinction. Everything is humorous, especially city life. Elusive, transitory, exhausting. Everyone and everything is about speed, as if stopping means death. So nobody stops to reconsider, to be human again. It is so unreal, illusory. They've become robots -- dead and walking.

Overlapping of words, failure to finish a sentence. "Life is too short, have to move to the next stage." Citizens know harmony no more, living parallel lives like disconnected universes. Everyone simply strives for their own space.

Along with advancing technology and industrialization, we have made the supposedly simple life more complicated and expensive. But we are, by nature, connected. We are, by nature, gentle, tranquil and free.

Aren't we aware, that this world and this life were given to us
without price tags?

Photo credit: http://www.spencersundell.com/blog/_img/movies/

It is both beginning and end of a novel-in-progress, filled with multilingual poetry impossible to repress...

Nothing in this world or its neighboring planets, nothing in this lifetime or next lifetimes would be any better than gazing at that smile and uttering the nectarean name.

Yet seeing myself, is no less than seeing an ethos of ambiguity. Mind unmade up between being selfish and selfless, between denial and honesty. I pray to find and immerse my heart in nothing but truth and love,
and truth and love only.

Photo credit: http://nanoblogmo.blogspot.com/2010/11/deadline-frenzy-writing-novel-in-30.html

65 and 60

Ten years. Time spent waiting for the jeepney bound for España to take off.

Not today. Since it's a little early in the morning and a school/work day, I was confident to board the jeep exactly 10 minutes before the time I have to be at UST (travel time from Tayuman to UST usually takes 5-10 minutes).

Totally a fool of me to think like that. The jeepney was almost full when an aged and weighty lady tried to get in the jeep. It was taking her forever. I almost thought of walking to UST instead.

Minutes had passed. With the help of almost all the passengers in the jeep, she was at last seated inside. I could hear her breathe heavily, as if she ran ninety-nine miles to get to where she is now. The lady in sneakers sitting between me and the old, fat lady spoke to her.

Lady in sneakers: How old are you?

Fat lady: I'm 60.

Lady in sneakers: I'm 65.

Everybody's eyes were thrown to the lady in sneakers. Even mine own eyes. I could not comprehend what my senses are perceiving at that moment. She doesn't look 65 at all! But everybody had the same reaction.

Fat lady: I already had a stroke. I also have diabetes.

Lady in sneakers: I guess it's in the salt you use. Don't use iodized salt. Don't believe in the lies of DOH. Rock salt is a lot better for your health...

Then she had this whole lecture on salt. I don't know why she had to emphasize the use of rock salt that much, but that shows her big concern on health habits and lifestyle. My destination was not very far so I wasn't able to hear what else she talked about. However, what I saw and heard was already enough living proof of how the body's age is just a number. It's what you do to your body, to your life, that intensifies the "age" of your body.

We all have a choice to let our body age gracefully, or wastefully.

Now tell me, how "old" would you want your body to be, 65 or 60? :)

Photo credit: http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photography-asian-senior-old-woman-doing-yoga-image12598687

The Burglar

Many years, I have stayed in all-girls dormitories. Since we are all girls, one of the things we fear most: Bad guys breaking in our dorm.

Weeks before All Soul's Day, we've observed traces of breaking-in attempts around the dorm. Footsteps in the porch, unfamiliar knife lying near the back window, etc. We immediately informed the landlord hoping he could tighten our security. To our great disappointment, he left for the U.S. without taking action. Thus, we had to do the necessary steps ourselves. We've put additional latches and locks on the doors, strict implementation of curfew, and hanging of men's underwear at the laundry area (our lame way of deceiving the bad guys that we have hunks in the house).

Still, it happened. We woke up one morning with doors wide open, jalousie windows broken, missing gadgets and wallets, and a terrifying sight of a knife left on the dining table. We called the police and they came looking like they were forced out of bed to do the investigation. Thumbs down. They said they've been after this young and unprofessional group of thieves who's been very active for months now. We're the 5th victim so far. "They've been after this YOUNG AND UNPROFESSIONAL GROUP OF THIEVES." Another thumbs down.

In my last year of staying in a dorm, it wasn't exactly a dorm but a house I rented with two co-teachers. One night, while we were staying up late talking and laughing, we heard a commotion outside. Our neighbor, a teenage boy who was using his laptop at their porch that night, was hit in the head with a clay pot and instantly lost his consciousness. Laptop stolen. We started calling him "Clay Pot" or "Paso" since then. Days after that, it was the water tank of another neighborhood that was taken. We can't help but be anxious that we might be next.

One morning, I found one of my co-teachers, Vrinda, restless at the door. All her clothes she hung outside were all gone! We were very quiet during breakfast (which was very unusual). "I know who did it." Vrinda said in a voice that suddenly broke the prolonged silence. "That mentally retarded guy who lives across the street, he always stares at our house like hell. He freaks me out." "Maybe he's just really in love with you, Ma'm.." I said just to lighten the dense atmosphere. "..to the point that he had to steal all your clothes, an obssession!" (I call her Ma'm since she was my former high school teacher.) We laughed and were able to go through the day as if nothing happened. Although throughout that day, I really thought about what she said.

The guy she was talking about is in his 20's. He really is freaky at times due to some mental problems. He greets anyone he meets with a bright smile and I always see him working in the garden. I thought he was more of a mellow and harmless guy. But yes, looks can always be very deceiving...

Before bedtime, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to hang my clothes I washed that morning. "My clothes might get stolen too if I hang them tonight. I'll just rinse and spin-dry them tonight and hang them tomorrow." I thought. After rinsing.. "Oh my God! Ma'm! Ma'm!!!" My two co-teachers came running from their room. "What happened?" They asked with wide worried eyes. "I found the burglar! I found who stole your clothes!" "Who?" Ma'm Vrinda impatiently asked. "The spin-drier." I said, with a big big smile. She turned around, went back to her room and we endlessly laughed that night.

Thus ends the story of "Paranoia and False Judgement."

Photo credit: http://lickyourlip.blogspot.com/2011/07/apologetic-burglar-breaks-into-wrong.html

"Bawal Umihi Dito!"

I know we are not the only ones who would want to talk about this. Moreover, I'm sure we want to do something about it!

I recently read a blog titled "Toilet Training and Progress" by Antonio A. Hidalgo

*It was a good read. In case you wish to have a look, just follow this link: http://milfloresonline.blogspot.com/2008/07/toilet-training-and-progress.html

In this blog, Mr. Hidalgo's main point was how toilet training is a good indicator of human progress. Human progress which doesn't mean just political, economical or social progress. He is referring to the overall consciousness and the way of living of individuals in a society or nation, as HUMANS.

This madness or striking reality of rampant peeing, or even pooping in public places, especially where the signs "Bawal Umihi Dito" are, are direct messages, very direct messages that says:

• Some people here don't care
• Some people here are ignorant of proper etiquette
• Some people here aren't well-educated
• Some people here don't have discipline
• The government is not very effective in implementing its laws
• Public peeing is normal, since everybody is doing it

It was said that financial status of the country may be one cause of this problem. Yes, that could be true. Yet, a greater cause for this is the ways, or the state of discipline of each person contributing to a society or nation's progress.

The country will continue to stink and get stinkier from the pee of irresponsible, thoughtless and careless individuals as long as they will continue on like this and never make a stand. As we always hear, "Outer change is not possible without the inner change." The change should then come from within us. Then financial and organizational planning could follow...

Photo Credit: http://kapisanan.wordpress.com/2009/06/04/filipino-language-classes-at-kapisanan-june-2-august-6/