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

[itutuloy…]