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When was the last time you smiled?

When was the last time you laughed?

When was the last time you felt something was definitely right?

It was late year of the 2000s when I met this person just because I asked various favors from my friend to introduce me. He had nice wavy hair, good set of teeth with braces, well-framed face, and pleasing eyes. He was one word: handsome. The only drawback is he was just as tall as I am. A lot of drama were played just to tease fate that I'd like us to meet. 

And we did meet and his name was something I will never forget.

I asked my friend another set of favors and another set, until I suggested I ran errands for her for a so-called "emergency". To my frustration he did not respond nor even reacted in any way. Then my phone beeped telling me about an incoming message to be read. It was not him but his friend. The frustration just went deeper inside me. On the contrary, I then wore my friendliness and entertained some queries. Unexpectedly, I felt fine- entertained. 

Days turned to weeks. My friend just laughed at me saying that I just didn't hit the target; it slipped to a wrong one. However this "friend" was somebody I did not expect to meet. We almost had almost the same set of likes and dislikes. We talked a variety of things, as the cliche goes, under the sun. Conversation was never plain between us. The exchange of stories was like a wind that never ceased to blow between us. It took awhile until one day I received a message with something like, "...inspiration." Out of curiosity, the means of communication expanded. What happened next was something I will never remove from the box of memories. Roses, a smile, and a name that I held dear.

Unexpectedly, almost everyone knew there was a special connection going between us. Graciously I denied that it was merely friendship, as far as I believed. However, I later found out that the "name" was quite known to some. I felt abashed to my ears but I managed discretely so as not to attract any further attention.

The day came when every friend of ours seemed to accept how I and my friend treated each other in our own special way. I will never forget those three pieces of dark cookies that I wished I never had eaten, or the time when he traced his fingers through my long thin hair, or even the moment he touched my face with both hands just to pull me away from the attention I was giving to other friends. I almost melted but I hid it as proficiently as I could.

These were the moments that you might be smiling as I did. On the other hand, later, I came to realize that I was building something so fragile and as expected, I was shattered to pieces. *

Sa Aking Mahal

Wakas. Tapos na ang kabanatang ito. Apat na taong ko rin itong isinulat at kailan ma'y hindi ko maikakaila ang samu't saring kahulugan ng bawat pintig ng puso ko. Inakit mo ang musmos kong isip sa iyong mga katangian: malakas, mapanuri, at malaya. Dinala ko ang paghanga ko sa iyo nang ilang taon: pitong taon. 
 

Unang taon.

Sumugal ako para makita ka. Sa isang papel, isinulat ko ang pangalan mo nang may halong kaba at pananabik. Sa hindi inaasahang pagkakataon ay ibinaling mo ang atensiyon sa isang tulad ko. Naging sunud-sunod ang mga pangyayari- ipinakilala mo ang sarili mo at ang mundo mo. Ang galing, pero hindi hamak na ang layo ng agwat ng edad natin. Matanda ka na.

Sa tiwala ng aking mga magulang ay pinayagan akong mag-dormitoryo para mas malapit sa iyo. Sa umaga, lagi mo akong ginigising ng alas- 5 para makapaghanda para sa alas-7 kong klase. Hindi ko ininda ang lamig ng tubig sa umaga, ang (minsa'y) maruming palikuran at ang (minsa'y) kulang sa pangsangkap na almusal. Hindi na bale ang ganoong eksena basta ang alam ko, naroon ka sa may pasilyo naghihintay na samahan ako sa pupuntahan ko. Madalas tayong tahimik habang naglalakad, nag-iisip, at nakikiramdam sa gitna ng basang simoy ng hangin. Tahimik pero masaya akong kasama ka.

Dahil wala kang sasakyan noon, ang hilig nating maglakad; sa ilalim ng sikat ng araw at buhos ng ulan. Nabuo ang mga kuwento sa bawat hakbang ng paa ko sa cemento. Ikinatuwa ko rin naman ang pagpayag mo na isama ang mga kaibigan ko sa kahiligan nating maglakad. Kasabay ng mga halakhak at hikbi, natuto akong makibagay sa mga anak ng negosyante, pulitiko, empleyado, manggagawa at magsasaka. Tao rin naman pala sila, marunong magyabang at posibleng masaktan.

Pagod man sa paglalakad, lagi mo akong pinapaalalahanan na hindi lumiban sa pagkain. Sabi mo pa nga, kailangan bawiin sa pagkain ang nawalang lakas. Kasama ng pagpakilala mo sa ibang kalalakihan sa hapag-kainan, ay nabigyan ng kaukulang pansin ito. Nang dahil sa pagmamahal na iyon, tumaba ako.

Pangalawang taon.

Hindi sapat ang tayo lamang dalawa. May ilang araw na hindi ako ang kasama mo at hindi ikaw ang kasama ko. May mga sandaling hindi ako ang nasa isip ko at (marahil) hindi ako ang nasa isip mo. Pero higit sa lahat, kahit na tayo'y magkalayo, nasa saloobin natin ang ipaglaban ang isa't isa sa mga mata ng mga mapanuring hangal.

Lumipas ang ilang buwan. Nagdesisyon akong lisanin ang dormitoryo at manirahan sa isang bahay sa loob ng campus. Sa kabila nito, nakahinga naman ako nang maluwag sa suportang ibinigay mo. Nabawasan man ang mga pagkakataon ng pagkikita natin sa mga pasilyo ng dormitoryo, sinikap mo naman na abangan ako sa kanto para makasakay ng Ikot.

Sa bagong mundo, namulat ako sa tunay na buhay estudyante. Ibinahagi mo sa akin ang iilang patnubay para mabuhay. Nariyan ang pagsabak ko at paglaban sa mapang-aping sikmura sa pamamagitan ng mga alagad ng kalye. Sa bahay, naging kakampi ko ang bareta at sinag ng araw. Natuto rin akong magkulong sa kwarto para matakasan ang alingawngaw ng tukso at pagkabasag ng mga tinig malapit sa pintuan. Naging kaibigan ko ang dilim, ang init, at pati na rin ang ipis.

Sa taong ito, unti unti kong nasisilayan ang totoong hugis ng mundong kinagagalawan mo. Nakilala ko ang mga kaibigang matagal nang mulat sa katagang parang baluktot na sa mga matatanda ko lang naririnig at ayon daw kay Herbert Spencer- “Survival of the Fittest.”

Sa pagkilala, sa pagsusumikap at munting pag-aaklas, nabawasan ang timbang ko. Nahawa ako sa kalaliman ng utak mo.

Pangatlong taon.

Bumalik ulet ako sa dormitoryo. Subalit hindi tulad nang dati, wala na akong pinaka-iingatang meal card, mas malawak ang pwedeng makasalimuha, at mas malaya (lalo na pagdating sa curfew). Sa kabila ng lahat, ang kalayaang tinatamasa ay para bang isang kandilang nakasindi at unti-unting nauupos. Nagrebelde ako.

Pang-apat na taon.

Mas naramdaman ko ang pagiging malapit sa iyo. Hindi ko akalain na minsa'y isa akong salta sa mundo mo, nangangapa sa kung paano makikibagay sa lahat ng taong bahagi ng buhay mo. Minsan rin akong nakaramdam ng pagkainis, pagkabigo, pagkalumo, at kung ano pang anyo ng pagdamdam sa iyo. Maaaring ang mitsa ng mga naramdaman ko ay ang pag-iisip na sa mga sumunod na buwan ay Pagtatapos na at maaaring hindi na kita makita pang muli.

Ang lahat ng pagtatampo ay kailan ma'y hindi mo pinatulan sa pagpapaalalang hindi ko kailangan ng awa para makakuha ng atensiyon. Kailangan kong maging buo, kahit man lang sa sarili. Kailangan kong lumaban at tumayo nang matuwid sa mga paniniwala ko.

Pagkalipas.

Apat na taon. Apat na kuwento at pagsipat sa mga pangyayaring minsa'y pinangarap na kathang-isip na lang. Apat na taong lumipas subalit pabalik balik sa bawat yapak ng mga paa sa tabi ng kalsada patungong sa kung saan man. Malabo pero malalim; ang pag-tanaw ko ng utang ng loob ay isa sa mga hibla ng pag-ibig ko sa iyo.

Minsan ko na rin inisip ang mahiwalay sa dumudugtong sa ating dalawa. Pagod na ako. Para bang ayoko tumanda na kasama ka. Mas pipiliin ko pang magkita tayo at masambit ang “uy! Namiss kita” kaysa sa makita kita sa, mahigit kumulang, tatlong beses sa isang linggo.

Minsan ko na rin inisip kung kailan mo ulet ako pakikiramdaman. Ang lahat ng mga nangyari simula sa apat na taong pagkakilala hanggang sa ngayon. Kailan mo nga ba ibibigay ang paglaya ko? Hindi na ako masaya subalit nasa saloobin ko pa rin ang mga alaalang hinabi mo sa kasalukuyang pagkatao ko.

Kung kaya't gusto ko pa rin ipaalam na ikaw nga ay aking mahal, minahal, at mamahalin. Isang taimtim na pasasalamat sa pagtagpo ng ating landas. Nai-ukit na sa akin ang tatak bilang isa sa mga nagmamahal sa iyo. Sa aking mahal, ano pa man ang susunod na mangyayari, patuloy kong itataas ang kanang kamao tanda ng paghubog at pag-aruga mo sa akin. Sa malayong lupa man ang aking marating, kailan man ay hindi magbabago ang damdamin.

Sa aking mahal.

U.P.

Dedicated to Someone I call “F”

Funny, of all the letters in the alphabet, I chose the letter F. Maybe because, one, your real name doesn’t have one on it, and two, maybe, because I am lucky; we’re Friends.

It was never my intention to write this dedication but I felt I just have to. It has been months since bits and pieces keep on whirling around my head. Nonetheless, I am very certain that you will never read this.

I am Sorry.

I didn’t expect a simple favor and planned information dissemination would lead to an extended getting-to-know-you-better conversation.  To tell you honestly, that event was not, and never, for you. I think I just let my side of being courteous entertain childlike tête-à-tête. On the contrary, I seemed to enjoy it. Thank you.

I am Sorry.

Accepting a simple invitation was indeed an agreeable mistake. It led to an opportunity to get to know the naïveté beneath your sometimes-somber personality. I admit it would never be easy to face the fact that time comes to pass and there was a need for goodbye’s for the earlier hello’s. The good nights and the good mornings that were something to look forward everyday had to come to an end. I hesitated because you did too.

I am Sorry.

I pity you for the times you said that you were happier and being “yourself” whenever you splurge time with people outside your clique. You mentioned that there was no pressure (the type I don’t comprehend much) at all.  I could still remember, one late night evening, you send me a note that you were inspired that I got curious about it. A short dialogue was entertained but it did not lead to a conclusion as to where does motivation come from. In the end, there were a dozen of what I call, effortful flowers I didn’t expect to receive.

I am Sorry.

The queries that seem to be unusual during knowledge assessment were honey to my bee. You are so affable that I could not brush off the idea of hidden agenda. One incident led to another and before I knew it, I tripped off to an edge of sanity. You’re nonchalant, gallant, and I fell into the trap of admiration.

I am Sorry.

It has been XX months. The last time I heard about you was about The Club. From then on, everyday, literally, I would see your face from everywhere. The moment I wake up, I would check my phone, hoping you sent me an inquiry or just a simple greeting. As I get myself dress to work, I would reminisce the moments I was excited in walking under the morning sun. And, lastly, as I let the wind kiss my cheek, I see you among the people I meet. I see your smile, and it just makes the day worth calling it one. Call it insanity and I would respond, maybe.

I am Sorry.

It hurts the most that by a string of words, everything went down to scratch. I wouldn’t even assure myself that you can keep secrets. I am sorry; you were just too good for me. I did a familiar feat and am proud to found a friend I will always keep even if I change my name.

I am Sorry.

I know there must be something behind those actions. I may be haughty and conceited but I am not dim-witted. It just hurts to know that the feeling may be mutual but you are not hu(man) enough to stand up for what you want. And I say it again, I am Sorry; for now, you’re just worth the tears. 

----------

11/30/2009

A Story

This is a story. No, this is not a love story nor a story of happy ending. Nonetheless, it was written to save not heart but someone’s pride.

Up in the northern part of the village, there were five friends:  Anton, James, Drew, Phil and Andre.  All five grew up together that second to their families, they feel home just by mere laughing at silly and shallow gags or competing with each other by throwing colored candies in the air for no reason. For years, they experienced lots of emotions that shaped their brotherhood. 

If there’s one thing that could identify the five of them, it could be one word: sauce. Indeed, all of them loved to eat, sauced food a lot! Other people in the village wondered if the sauce made them so identifiable that they bore the name “Throbbers”. It may sound so bizarre, but a lot believed it’s their traits that made girls smile at an extended time frame and made babies chuckle. For one, Anton had slightly oval face which narrows towards the chin. James had a strong, firm nose which gave his face a strong sense of solidity and character. Drew had a well-defined jaw line gives a certain chiseled face making him look incredibly sophisticated. Phil had a pair of dark brown eyes that were so expressive without any doubt. Lastly, Andre had a distinct, well-maintained facial hair that made him look more, hygienic than without it. They were beautiful than handsome, making more throbbing of a lady’s heart, more or less, significant. Two were in a relationship: Anton, for 3 years now, and Drew for 5 years. James was single so is Andre. Phil was in the process of his healing mantra.

On the other end, there’s Alex, a lady with thick-rimmed pair of eyeglasses and with fine, wavy hair resting on her shoulders. She was always out of the house with a book and a pen, if not with her hand; it’s in her back pack. She was not weird either; she’s just independent coming home from another town at around 11 o’clock in the evening. She might not be stunning but she just brushed the idea that a lot of guys find her charming with her shirt-sneakers-jeans clothing type.

She had her own set of beliefs that sometimes, no one understands. In a world full of strangers, she believed that there’s a thin thread that connects everyone and it is the responsibility of every person to expose that thread lest chaos will happen. She rarely smiled, almost always in deep thought about a lot of mundane agenda. She loathed people who say that happiness could not be found in having a good life and that money is like a despot in one’s life. Though these people can’t be blamed, for her, they were just, evil as it may sound, broke.

Two sets of lives, one story. 

Itatago Nalang Kita sa Pangalang...

Galing ako sa Maynila ngayong hapon.

Alas-nuwebe na pala pero buti nalang mayroon pang LRT2 papuntang Katipunan. Tulad nang dati, kelangan sumakay ng jeep papuntang estasyon, magpapahipo nang legal sa mga guwardiya, bibili ng tiket, at sasakay ng tren.

Nilakad ko hanggang sakayan papuntang rotonda. Nang hindi inaasahan, naisip kita. Gusto ko sana na itext kita ng “Uy, kamusta? Ano gimik mo bukas? Kape naman tayo :)”, kaya lang nailipat ko na sa loob ng bag ang telepono ko.

“Manong, bayad po.”

Narating ko rin ang estasyon.

Dating gawi.

Sakay. Siksikan.

Halos lahat ng tao ay galing sa kung san mang imbitasyon sa kalakhang Maynila sa dami ng naririnig kong kwento at tawa, at sa mga nakikita kong mga bitbit at hubog ng mga mata. Halu-halong emosyon. Ang ganda.  May magandang babae sa harap ko at may magandang lalaki naman sa tabi ko. Wow! Ibang klase ang biyaheng ito. Napaisip tuloy ako, nagparamdam ka ba bigla?

Pagdating sa Cubao, ay nakaupo din ako nang hindi nilalagay ang bag ko sa harap ko. Napatingin ako sa may bandang harap. Ang cute…

Ang kyut ng matabang batang lalaki habang nagta-tantrums: isang batang paslit na hinihila ang nanay na lumabas na daw ng tren sa Cubao na estasyon. Pinapatahan na siya ng Dadi at Mami niya dahil hindi pa daw pwede at malayo pa.

Hindi pa…tayo. Hanggang kelan na naman ba tong nararamdaman ko? Malayo pa ang biyahe at wala akong karapatan mag-tantrums.

Naglakad na naman ang isip ko.

Pwede nga ba tayo?

Ewan ko ba naman sa dinami dami ng nakilala ko ay ikaw pa itong dumaan sa isip ko na yayain bukas mag-kape. Kaya lang, hindi pa naman tayo talagang magkaibigan. Magkakilala, pwede pa.

Ang galing mo rin, e no? Pero sa totoo lang, magaling ka naman talaga. Sa dami mong alam at napapansin sa mundo ay minsan, hindi ko na makilatis kung gaano kalalim ang pinaghuhugutan mo. Isang kahangalan ang hindi marunong magpuri sa isang artistang tulad mo.

Nabaling na naman ang tingin ko sa batang nagpupumilit na lumabas na ng tren. Pasigaw na ang iyak ng bata kaya kahit mas malaki siya sa Mami niya at binuhat siya nito at niyakap.

Isang akap na minsa’y naglaro sa isip ko kung maaari nga bang mangyari. Ano kaya ang pakiramdam na mayakap mo at masabihan na “tahan na…”? Ano nga ba ang kahulugan ng paghawak ng aking kamay sabay tingin na parang “narito ako… ”nang walang pagaalinglangan?

“Arriving at Katipunan Station. Paparating na sa Katipunan Station.”

Tumahan na rin ang bata habang hinahaplos ng kanyang ina. Napagod yata.

Naramdaman ko na rin ang pagod ko; para bang gusto ko na putulin ang oras ng paglalakad palabas sa estasyon pauwi. 


Ang dami ko namang iniisip. Ano kaya ang ginagawa mo sa mga oras na naisip kita? 

Siya nga, pwede nga ba tayo? Ano kaya ang nasa isip mo sa mga panahong ito na napaisip ako…

Hindi kaya sayang lang ang genes nating dalawa kung maging tayo?

Huwag ka sana magtampo kung sinusulat kita dito. Naisip lang kita ngayong araw. May number ako sa telepono mo, sana magtext ka.

Good night, Clarence.

photo courtesy of  urbanrail.net

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