the nameless

there was a voice from the dark. but never did imagined that it could be the most heartwarming thing i would received this year.

source

it was already 7:40pm when we landed manila. upon entering the arrival, i instantly turned on my phone and received a message from the other team saying that their flight was cancelled due to bad weather. i was surprised to read it considering that our flight was just an hour ahead of them and the trip was relatively okay. but unfortunately, they were forced to take a 12 hour bus trip going back here just to catch christmas.

our service took us directly to the office to unload some equipment we brought for our trip, when suddenly i noticed the box of christmas gifts for our kris kringle. i immediately looked and dug for mine and in my surprise, saw three gifts under my codename. but what really caught my attention was two of the gifts that were placed inside a transparent plastic bag: they were DOLLS!

what am i supposed to do with these? i asked myself.

frustration immediately rushed to my head and felt really bad about the idea.

first, i am not really fond of dolls. second, the rule of the exchange gift was to give something that is applicable to both men and women since codenames were used. third, the dolls are not even barbie or made out of clean and hard material. they resemble a lot to those cheap dolls being sold in the public market. and lastly, the gift contains not only one but two annoyingly looking dolls.

what a waste of money, i thought.

but after a while, i realized that instead of ranting, i should still be grateful for the very thought and effort. i guess, i was just really tired that night.

so i went out and decided to take a bus on my way home to call it a week.

if only i knew that that night was actually the start of the christmas rush i should have just took a cab.

you see, it takes me atleast an hour and half to go to work from my place. but it takes one more hour whenever i go back home. but that night was just crazy. the traffic jam was beyond words. all i could hear was my mouth cursing and my thoughts backing up acting as a chorale.

three hours after, we found ourselves approaching farmers, cubao, at last, when suddenly, the bus turned left and went straight to cubao ilalim. and i was, SHUT UP!!! this bus was supposed to be IBABAW!

sorry but we could no longer afford a traffic like that. you could just probably go down at five star terminal, the conductor excused.

it was definitely one hell of a night.

but instead of taking the advise, i decided to go down kamias and just take a cab from there going to katipunan.

when i thought i just had all the nastiest misfortunes i could possibly have that night, i then realized that i was already stupidly waiving almost every car passing, regardless if its a cab or not, for more than 45 minutes. i already felt that i am on the verge of screaming, asking fate what was that all about. when suddenly, a slipper softly hit my foot.

i looked for its source and then saw a kid. a young boy standing on a crutch and missing his left leg. he swiftly approached me, kicked the slipper away and continued kicking it.

he never lay a glimpse at me. he just continued kicking it from one side to the other, completing a laps he probably call his game. then i noticed him stopped under a dark waiting shed. an image of a wooden cart, about to give up; a mother lying down, surrendering from tiredness and bearing the cold and dusty street floor; and a younger sister enjoying her innocence appeared from the dark.

the image of them made me thought of their own picture of christmas, an unconventional one. or probably, just simply different from what i call mine. when all this time, i always think of christmas as a time full of warm lights, a festivity of bountiful dinner served on a nice wooden table and everyone smiling and happily passing each plate to one another, there they were just trying to survive.

one side of me is asking, how can someone still possibly find the place to make children? what were they thinking? if they can barely have something to feed themselves, why did they still opt in pulling out another and adding it up to their burden? perhaps, everyone has the right to build their own family to at least feel that sense of belonginess and essence of living regardless of class. but don't you think more than one for their condition is just too much and unfair?

but of course that is just one part of me saying.

knowing myself, my thoughts and efforts would always fall and cater to them. though sometimes, there are just those days when i ask myself, are my thoughts and efforts enough? are the efforts of those considered fortunate enough? if the ones they cater keep on refusing cooperation? or perhaps life indeed has his own ways from which man's mind will always fall short to comprehend. but i guess regardless of the answer we will always find life worth living for either from us or from them.

then i slowly approach the younger sister probably barely on her year, i pulled it out from my bag and hand it over to her. it was the doll that i received from the office.

probably by instinct, she just reached it; thinking it was food or money. when she finally realized what it was, she smiled, looked at me and immediately turned her back and went to her lying mother. the older brother then approached them, also curious what it was.

upon realizing what it was for her sister, they all smiled. the brother finally looked at me and said, "salamat po."

never did imagined it could be the most heartwarming thing i would ever received this year and all i could say was:

"merry christmas!"

then i turned my back at them, saw a vacant taxi approaching. waived at it, told the driver where i am heading and went in. as we were fast moving away from them, i looked at them one more time. then pulled out the other doll and looked at it. then thought that i finally had use of this gift: a reminder of all the realizations i had that night---and of the family, who will be spending a different christmas from mine.

clairvoyance

i had a dream.

in it, i saw myself standing on the center of a spacious patio, covered with colorful but broken tiles. i really can't picture what the entire collage looked like, from where i am standing. but looking at the dark and gloomy clouds above, i guess, its showing sadness to heaven.

then i started walking towards that massive cathedral, blankly staring at me. as if calling my name and knew who i am. i never thought that such structure can be that seducing. thus, i heed.

its funny how the place reminded me of J so much. though i dont remember us being here before. the place was deserted. there were a pair of bowing angels made in cold concrete, tainted broken glass panes, and an empty bench under a weeping tree.

then i remembered pushing a pair of huge wooden door, that despite its size, it was so light that i doubted if my palms were really touching and pushing it. when i stepped inside, there was an ongoing mass. i really cant remember the last time i heard one. so in a way, it was already plain nostalgia to me.

i don't even remember what the sermon was all about but whatever it was it made me remember J again.

it has been years since the last time i saw J and it was just that night that i wondered where J is.

as usual, we lost communication from the last time we saw each other. it was never been an issue to me since it has been that way ever since. i guess where not really fond of talking and it was mostly silence that moved us together (and apart too).

you see, even in such young age, we were already in this kind of set up. eventhough we don't know what it is called during that time. lets say it was distance that pushed us to take or risk it. and for me, it was hope that made me stay. but never really knew what J had that time.

i never believe in love is waiting. probably because if it is indeed true love, you'll never let the person to wait for you in turmoil. and of course, all these realizations just came after J.

i remember there were nights before that i would received messages from unknown numbers soliciting comfort and advises from their problems. and being the goody goody me, i would always reply back to them even without asking who they were. i never had problems with it. perhaps, because at the back of my head, i always believed or made myself to believe, it was J.

i sat on a long empty bench, positioned almost infront of the altar. patiently observing almost everything infront of me. trying to patch up the memories that have been wiped away by time. the cross, the face on it, the picture of pain on a mother's face and even the conviction on the priest's sermon.

then i wondered how J was. probably because, i never received any messages from unknown numbers anymore. i wonder if J has the same problems again? how is J dealing with it? why is J not texting me anymore? or if J already found another person to ask?

honestly, i am no longer expecting for any of these questions to be answered. i am already contended with the pace that i am going through with my life. and i guess, what i could only hope for is for J to have the same and to have a good life.

suddenly, i saw a small boy struggling as he approached me. then he tripped, fell and hugged my knees. i picked him up and asked him if he was alright. then he giggled. hahaha. i almost blushed.

then i looked at him. he had a smile that could melt all the loneliness away. a pair of dreamy eyes that could lift anyone's soul. he was such an adorable kid that for a moment made me think if cherubins are real. i wanted to take him home. then nostalgia hit me again.

whats with this dream and nostalgia thing? i asked myself.

then i heard his parents softly calling him. so i gently carried his left arm as he turned back from me and looked at him as he struggled back to his parents. when he reached them, one of his parents smiled at me as a sign of gratitude. but when i was about to smile back, in my surprise, i saw J sitting beside the two. and J smiled too.

from there, i caught myself making the longest smile that marked my lips at this very moment and even woke up still smiling. in a very strange way, i felt really REALLY good about it.

***

several days after, out of extreme boredom and without anything to do, i decided to logged on in my old friendster account to check who from my friends are still actively using it (in this facebook-dominated time). and while, i was scrolling down the updates, i actually saw J's name. J posted a photo album, with this picture on it.

then i caught myself again doing the same long smile. i never imagine myself to be this happy for J or for any of my ex.

for at last, someone had finally convinced and made J to settle down. something that i guess, i can never do and J can never have and be---

with me.

the person i don't want to be

if there was one thing i remembered about her youth, it was her ambition. her parents told her, she was the smartest among all the nine children they have. thus, being a poor family of farmers, they always had high hopes for her.

she dreamed of taking up a degree in economics and pursue a career out of it. she wanted to be a career woman, save up and live a life out from a land that they can't even call their own. but its hard to live a life when you started from scratch. thus, she pursued the (only) road most people like her usually takes--- it was an entirely different alley.

she took a vocational course and worked as a secretary in an appliance store in caloocan to save up for her dreams. but along the way, she met her employer's nephew. a young, charming seafarer with a big sense of humor. to make it short, she fell in love with him and before she knew it, she was already conceiving their first child.

source

so she had to set her dreams aside for the meantime and focus on the arrival of another unexpected path, being a wife and a mother.

then they decided to move together and eventually saw the downfalls of each other. the seafarer still in denial that he was about to become a father, began playing around. while she on the otherhand, was left inside a small apartment, he rented for them, brewing a strong concoction of frustration and depression.

i really can't speak on her behalf about what she was undergoing during that time. but if there was one thing i am sure of, it was very severe. so chronic that it actually cost us our supposed oldest sibling's life. but on the otherhand, it made my dad realized he was already a commited family man.

as time passed by, we then came, all four of us. two boys, two girls and me, now, being the eldest. and life flew above my mom like a swift passing breeze. it was so fast that she even forgot about the dream she once set aside. and for her, it was already too late now.

two months ago, my mom and i had a big fight over this huge favor i was desperately asking from her. she refused simply because my dad disagreed. i forgot the last time i went that ballistic. i was so mad at her that i decided to give her the silent treatment i thought she deserved.

i began asking questions like why can't she make up a decision of her own? why does she always link her life with other people? why can't she be independent? i guess, it was the feminist in me that added the flare in my anger.

for weeks i refused to get her calls. i never replied back whenever she sent me messages asking how am i? did i already find a job and all those other motherly questions, which i live for the most part of growing up.

basically, during that time, i lived a segment of my life telling myself, kung natiis niya ako, kaya ko din siyang tiisin. that was how far i could be when i am mad.

then early this morning, i woke up a bit awkward. i felt there was something different. then i realized, she was there. my entire family went back home here in manila to spend the holidays.

source

as usual, there she was again, living in her own world, built on that part of our house with a knife and a crop in her hands. silent, reserved and almost frail. though i always remember her to be very eager and a bit stronger before.

it always makes me wonder whats going on inside her head. i always wonder what she feels, about choosing to fulfill other people's life other than her own. i wonder what she will rant if given the chance or if she is even capable or brave enough to give out one? did she ever regret living a life behind us?

i grew up telling myself, i don't want to be like her. i don't want to live my entire life behind the shadows of other people. i don't want to lock and stagnate myself doing household chores only and that i will never allow love to hinder me from achieving my dreams. i want to live my life to the fullest. i want to be as successful as i can be until i will be remembered.

suddenly, she turned on my direction and caught me just staring at her. i was literally dumbstruck in that moment. for the first time, i couldn't think of anything that would get me out of that awkward situation. for i still want her to believe that i am still not okay and that i am still mad at her.

but then she smiled at me. something she rarely does and that completely swept away all the grudges i have for her. then she wrapped it all up by saying, "kumain ka na, pinagluto kita ng sinigang na baboy. tinanggalan ko na din yan ng buto para hindi mo na himayin tulad ng gusto mo"

thats when i realized, that indeed, if there is this one person who knows you better than anybdy else, it would be our parents, and for me it would be her.

i never thought, she knew. although it was a given fact in the family that sinigang is my favorite dish (probably because for me, my mom cooks the best sinigang in town like all other children will say about their mother).and compare to other kids who usually separate the fat part from the meat, i on the other hand, would never touch any meat which has bones with it and i hid this from my parents because of the fear that they will call me stubborn(again). eventually, i have outgrown this habit but never i have realized she would remember.

in that moment, as much as i want to deny it to myself and despite being taller and bigger than my mom now, i felt like a kid once again. her scent crumbles down all the knowledge and strength i have proudly acquired from my education and experiences. the touch of her warm skin as it accidentally brushed on mine, brings back memories of me crying for her name for refuge whenever i wake up in the middle of the night because of a bad dream. and her gentle voice can just conjure serenity and calmness, i kept looking for.

indeed, its really hard to talk or write something about the person you genuinely love. that is why i never wrote something about her until now.

i guess, i still don't want to be the person like her for the simple reason i can never be like her. she is beyond any words of description that only the child in me can comprehend. perhaps, she have already fulfilled her dreams, although not the dreams she intended to be but of a better one, and that is raising us well.

source

and now im writing this entry to affirm her success. so that every person who will read this will know that she has been as successful as she can be and she will be remembered to be the mother of this son who once wrote that simple but victorious story of her life.

also read:
letter in the closet

a tribute to friendship: one of the reasons why i love my college days part 2

"o bangon na, magnenevada daw tayo. pahiram ulit ng tshirt mo. hindi ako nakapagdala ng damit eh."

"puta ka! hindi mo pa nga nababalik yung mga pants ko."

she had this beautiful sets of long, colorful and wavy pants, about a three inches below the knees, that i love to wear to school. i never returned a single pair back. but i still keep all of them with me until now.

as cheesy as it may sound, we found another family in our friendship, that made our college days and nights more fruitful and worth recalling. i believe that its something not every college graduate is blessed.

even after we graduated, we have constant communication with each other. we would surprised each other with unexpected visits, eventhough some of us are back in our own provinces. catching what happened to our careers, lovelives and yes, even our sexlives.

until one day, she called for a meet up.

"talaga?! congrats!" S shouted with full astonishment.

"where?" i excitedly asked.

"in london. i just received the letter yesterday. the scholarship will cover everything for my masterals, except for the lodging, ofcourse. if i'll be able to finish all the requirements before the month ends. then perhaps i'll be leaving next month na."

then the realization dropped on us like heavy chunks of ice. we were happy that she had such opportunity abroad, but sad because someone has to leave again. its just hard to live in a country where citizens are their major exports, as if the state thinks that their people don't have friends, families or just simply apathetic.

a year swiftly passed by, but we heard nothing from her. she didn't leave us her numbers, never replied to our messages nor contacted us through friendster or facebook. we missed her and at the same kinda woried. but we have high hopes that she'll be able to tumble down any obstacles she may encounter in london. until i received an contact invitation in my facebook yesterday. it was her.

i immediately accepted her invitation and went to her page. left a message there saying, HUY! PUTANGINA KA! MUSTA KA NA, HAYUP KA! MISS NA MISS NA KITA! I LOVE YOU!

our sociology professor once told us, you can only and truly curse the people you love, that is why we learn to address each other with profanity.

it didn't take long when she replied back. we shifted in using IM. i could feel that there was something different based from the tone of her messages. she was not as perky as she used to, as if she was not that excited as i was. and most of all, she didn't curse back. until she finally admitted she is already in the country since last december, that she is now renting a condominium in qc, with her family. but what surprised me the most was when she said, "magkaka-inanaanak ka na ulit next year."

"what?! are you pregnant?"

"ay hindi, sa kuya ko close kayo nun di ba?! malamang sa akin. 5 months na."

"sinong ama? oh no, don't me tell me taga-london yan."

"hindi, sira. tinatanong pa ba yan?"

"oh no, si M?!"

"andami mo namang oh no... OH YES, si M nga."

"che! hahaha! hah? e di ba may nabuntis din siya dati?"

"oo. pero hindi sila magkasama. and he doesn't know."

"wait lang ha. medyo sumakit ang gspot ko sa iyo. bakit?"

"saka na. i've decided to tell him kapag nalabas ko na para isang paliwanagan na lang."

i was speechless after reading that line. i knew that shes strong, like she has always been. but in a strange way, she made me feel that she needs me, she needs us.

"whatever happens, or if you need anything, never hesitate to contact me ha. kahit ama para sa magiging anak mo, pwede ako."

she laughed.

"hey. seryoso ako," a long pause.

"salamat."

i could picture her crying.

we're both crying.

how to get rid of a very annoying sister

one day, my sister was annoyingly watching me while i was playing this game in my laptop.
she said,

"kuya, bakit ang hilig hilig mo dyan sa pokemon, halos hindi ka na matulog at kumain kakalaro niyan, e ang old school-old school naman?"

i paused the game, looked at her and said,





"kapatid, masarap lang kasi yung thought na may nakikipaglaban para sa iyo --- kahit sa isang laro lang."



she walked out upon hearing it.

hahaha!

tarlac: how i unconsioucly beat time

after a long and exhausting trip in pampanga, i decided to pay my mom's hometown a visit and stay for the night there. i texted my uncle that i'll be coming over and asked him to fetch me in concepcion, tarlac.

you see, my mom's hometown, in lapaz is your typical remote barrio were riding a tricycle is as expensive as riding a bus from manila to somewhere in pampanga. it only has one jeepny trip in the morning and the next or the last will be late in the evening.

its been a long while since i have been here. i remember when we were little, my mom would use to bring us here during vacations or if there were long weekends. within the trip, we would usually raise our hands and asked her in a range of five, how far is it? then she would reach our little fingers and gently fold it one by one, to let us know how long we would still wait. we never knew exactly what it mean but somehow it ease us from the long wait of travelling.

its already past 11 when i reached lapaz. i immediately went inside and approached my apong to kiss her hand. my apong was no longer the same woman i have in mind. i always have this picture of her rushing outside the moment she hears us coming and just literally grab our faces and give us harsh kisses in the cheeks. she was silent but always moving, busying herself with almost everything inside the house. she cooks us the best inabraw (another version of pinakbet) and would chant us with "labay, labay, sidaun ni (my ilocano nickname) na napigsa nga balong ko, just to convince us to eat vegetables.

but the traces of the apong i used to know was no longer there. yes, she was still silent. but she no longer greeted me with those harsh kisses. instead, i just saw her sitting on the couch and already holding a steel cane on her left hand. she stared at me, unmoved and just gave me a brief smile. i wondered what happened. my uncle told me that perhaps she already reached the toll of her age. there are times when she would no longer recognize the people around her, would often throw tantrums and even cry alone.

i couldn't stop wondering what i'll be when i grow old.

but then i just realized that i was just blankly staring at her when she slowly stood up. scared that she might lose her balance, i immediately approached her. but in my surprise, she held my arm instead of her cane and looked at me. i never saw her in that distance. when suddenly she moved her face slowly towards me and gave me a gentle and warm kiss. then she smile.

for a second, it felt like i have been victorious against time, that i have defied the natural course of things and that i had my apong back even just for that moment.

a dandelion's story

probably, sometimes this just what we need. something unexpected. something that would break the monotony of everything and cast you from the routine of everyday living.

yesterday, was the last meeting we had for my creative writing class. it actually feels good when one of the best filipino writers in the country appreciates and loves what you came up with for her class. but it seemed like if you find pure happiness in what you have achieved, it is also easier for frustration to succumb you and this was the feeling i was struggling to overcome as i made my work after that class.

early this morning, after my work shift was moved again for the nth time, my mom gave me a call. when i was about to tell her about my plans of resigning, she butted in and told me to go back to law school full time. it was mixed emotions that sprung from three thoughts: first, i was extremely excited for i could now easily quit work and find myself focusing in studying again. but i was also hesitant, knowing that i have to give up something that i am starting to like and go back to the life draining law school again. and lastly, it was just a pain in my ego.

now, this is what i am afraid of. it was just a post away when i said, i might regret things that i keep on asking and now its already here standing on the tip of my nose and yet, all i could do is look at it and could not even come up with a decision. i told my mom, i am going to think about it.

and now, i am still thinking about it and probably it would take more time to come with a decision.

here, if there is something very personal i could share to you guys (since i tend to avoid writing too private things about me), that is i could probably be one of the most mature person you'll know in handling personal and relationships matters as well as giving aside, modesty aside. on the other hand, i am the wimpiest worm you'll ever meet in terms of career matters. up until now, i still find it difficult to come up with an answer, what do you want to do in life?

in otherwords, i am the complete opposite of kris aquino three years ago, for lack of better ways of expressing it. go figure na lang!

hahaha!

the struggling devotee, the struggling brother

the other night, my sister and i were watching a news coverage of the last feast of the black nazarene in quiapo, manila. although it was not the first time we saw how the feast was celebrated, we were still amazed with the number of people who flocked the venue and how it was participated. we figured how dangerous it was, more dangerous than the carera del torro in spain and log riding in japan. it was basically, a mob of strong catholic devotees, struggling in carrying and reaching the nazarene's cart, believing that their prayers will be answered and miracles to happen. suddenly, my sister is up to it again.
you see, my sister and i, although we are close siblings, we happen to share an entirely different points of view when it comes to lots of things. she is licensed physical therapist, while i am a social scientist. oftentimes, she would scold me when it comes to my health: my smoking, my eating habits, my physical activities and what not. but there is a very thin instances from which i could scold about my thing. while we were watching, she reacted on how people gets wild on such occassion, that they don't realize that they are hurting each other. she added, that it is just an idol, that god is more than the figures that are displayed inside churches. bagay lang yan. i was surprised on her reaction because i know her catholic faith is stronger than what i have.
seeing an opportunity, i immediately grab the opportunity to get inside her brain. i told her that each individuals have their own ways of expressing their religion, regardles what religion that may be, that these expression have actually set the biggest wars in human history. i admit that i may not be a religious person but i strongly believe that one should respect the spirituality and how it is express regardless, how bizarre it may be. i added, you go to church and hear the litany of the priest, right?!
would it be logical if i would tell you that id rather put my faith to these figures than believing what priests tell us? isn't that priests are just human as well and they are actually more vulnerable in giving out false information than these figures. if you are going to think of it, i find these figures more helpful in nourishing ones faith for it actually nourishes one's spirituality by creating a more personal connection with one self to god. my sister just stared at me and walked out of the room, again. the same reaction she did when we had an arguement about the hacienda luisita case.
i just laughed at her. but at the back of my head, and told myself, what a nice pay back from a brother who is struggling to have his sister over a cup of coffee and talk things like these. if i could do it with my friends, then why am i struggling to it with her? although i know that it will make our bond tighter. i just wish or pray that i could.