Ang Sasakyang Kahel ni Lolo

Ang tagal na nong huli kong balik dito sa Pilipinas. Modernong-moderno na ang mga gusali lalo na dito sa Makati. Fashionista na rin ang mga kababaihan. Halus lahat ng mga sasakyang nakakasabay ko sa kalsada ay Porsche, Mercedes-Benz. Nalula ako sa ganda ng mga iyon.

“Ate, sobrang namiss kita. Ang laki na ng pinagbago dito matapos kang mangibang bansa,” banggit ni Cathy sa akin.

“Oo nga eh,” maikling sagot ko sa kanya bago ako pumunta sa isa sa mga byaheng di ko makakalimutan.

Unting oras na lang at makikita na kita.

Sa halus labin-limang taon kong pagtatrabaho sa Italya, nakapundar naman ako ng bahay at nakabili ng itim na kotse para sa pamilya ko. Naiibigay ko din naman sa kanila ang mga luho nila at higit doon plano ka na ring maging supplier ng mga Auto parts, sana palarin na makahanap ng mga kliyente.

Laking pasasalamat ko sa sasakyan ng lolo ko’t nakatulong iyon para makapangibang-bansa ako. Noong namayapa si lolo ay naibenta ng nanay at tatay sa isang Vintage shop ang kahel na sasakyan ni lolo.

“Bpppp,” busina ng nasa likod kong drayber.

Nakatigil pa rin ang sasakyan ko kahit na berde na ang kulay ng stop light. Siniko ako ni Cathy at tinanong kung ok lang ako. Sumagot ako ng oo. Matapos ay nag-maneho ako muli. Nag-umpisa nang bumalik ang mga ala-ala ng byahe ko kasama ang aking lolo.

“Lolo, nakakahiya naman itong sasakyan natin. Ang ingay ng tambutso at kitang-kita tayo tayo sa labas,” sambit ng 7 gulang na si Cynthia.

“Mahal na mahal ko tong sasakyan kong ito,” sagot nya habang nakasuot sa bibig nya ang bimpo, pananggalang sa usok.

Ang aming sinasakyan ay tinatawag na Sakbayan. Pinag-ipunan yun ng lolo habang sya’y nag-tuturo ng mga mag-pipiloto balang araw. Iyon ay kulay kahel, maaring makasakay ang 5 hanggang 6 na katao. Wala itong pintuan at tanging itim na trapal lang ang pumoprotekta sa amin mula sa loob. Ramdam ko ang hiya sa tuwing kami ay babyahe gamit ang sasakyang iyon. Palaging katabi ni lolo si lola sa kanan nya, samantalang kaming mga mag-kakapatid ay nasa likod. Nakayuko at pahapyaw lang tumingin sa kalsada.

“O, Ate Cynthia andito na tayo sa Quezon City. Naalala mo na naman ang makasaysayang byahe natin noon?” napansin ni Cathy ang byahe ng isip ko sa ibang lugar.

‘Oo,” sabay tingin sa kanya’t humagikgik na kami sa katatawa.

“Naalala mo ba yung tumigil ang sasakyan natin sa kahabaan ne EDSA at kailangan nating itulak iyon?”

“Oo naman. Pano ko makakalimutan yung mga matang nakatingin sa sasakyan natin habang nagtataka sa kakaiba nitong itsura?”

“ Buti na lang at may mga nag-magandang loob para tayo tulungan doon kungdi ay nako sasakay na ko sa ibang jeep.”

Ang daming nakikipagsabayan sa ming mga sasakyan, ang iba'y talagang humaharurot sa byahe-- baka na-llbm iniisip ko na lang. At sa kahabaan ng Kamuning Road, napakapit ako sa manibela ko nang makita ko ito.

Rallos Street.

“ O ate, liko ka na sa kalsadang yan.”

Paliko na kami ni Cathy sa isang kalsada at napansin ko na ang napakaraming nakaparada na lumang sasakyan. Merong Beetles, Mustangs, Chevrolet, Sakbayan. Nanlambot ako nong nakita ko ang Sakbayan. Pinaganda at binago ng pagawaan nito ang mga mistulang lumang tsikot, pero mas natuwa ako nang makita kong di nila binago ang kulay kahel na sasakyan ni lolo at mas lalo pa nila itong pinatingkad.

“Ma’am, bibilhin nyo po ba ito?” tanong ng May-ari sa akin.

“Oo naman, matagal na ba ito dito?” umaasang ang pinagbentahan ng sakbayan ni lolo ay ang may-ari nito.

"Opo, ma'am," sagot nya habang patuloy ko itong pinagmasdan.

Hindi man iyon ang mismong sasakyan ng lolo ko dahil marahil iba na ang nag-aalaga dito. Nakita ko naman ang kamukhang kamukha nyang sasakyan. Sapat na para ito’y aking bilhin, mas lalong pagandahin nang maibyahe ko naman sa kahabaan ng EDSA nang nakangiti, magaan ang loob at ipinagmamalaki ang bagong luma kong sasakyan.   

Inuna ko ito, higit sa kung ano pang gastusin. Sa susunod na ang mga makabagong sasakyan pag kumita na ako ng malaki sa aking negosyo.

Sakbayan

--30--

Why Did She Stop Writing?

MAICA was once her classmates' scriptwriter, novelist, and playwright. Whenever they have a role playing in their English class. She eagerly finished a piece or script without getting worried on her grammar. She was confident with  her writing skills-- from it's technicality to its soul and rhythm.

She joined a Journalism club. She competed in school and even in National writing contest. Her parents, teachers, classmates, and everyone knows her exceptional talent. She remained humble inspite of being an achiever.

Everyone read her well-crafted poem, digested an insightful article that motivates a person to take a change, and fell in love with the dynamic characters that she puts in every time she writes a narrative prompt.

"I want to be an author someday,"  without blinking her eyes whenever someone asked her what she wants to happen in her life.

"Oh, dear, no doubt about it. You're outstanding talent will lead you into that dream," her mom assured her that she can make it.

Most of the happenings in her life were written on the pieces of notebook she has, or it's detailed on her journal. Her secrets were safe with the words inside her mind and the words she never wanted to write.

Suddenly, all the words that she was chasing ever since she was a child, started to diminish. She can't grasped them anymore. The words were shy to show their beauty to her. It's like an old friend leaving her because he has to move to another place and won't return anymore.

Maica doesn't want those friends to leave, but she has no choice, but to let them do the things they want to accomplish with their lives.

She stopped writing, because she became very sad with the lost of good memories. She didn't want to write anymore because she started believing that it has no sense anymore. Words will leave her and she won't them close anymore, so why spending time to weave the words.

Words and her had a gap.

She was in front of her pen and paper, she felt the jitters in her stomach as she began to grab the pen and write on the paper, but she was stucked. Nothing came out from her mind.

She remembers that she has to do something else aside from writing, and that is to do her accounting subject.

Maica didn't take up journalism. She was taking something that her dad wants her to take. Not what she wants but what others want her to do.

There. She stopped writing and she didn't know if she'll return to the one she loves doing before.

She. stopped. writing. And her punctuation marks were misplaced.

--30--

Laughter in the rain

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are the few of my favorite thing."

Carla hums that song as she watches the raindrops outside her window. She quietly shivers with the low temperature and as her eyes set unexpectedly on the scar on her arms. That scar came from being too happy. She recalls that one memorable afternoon of boisterous laughter, sweaty little bodies, hyperactive and flexible movements with her friend.

“Carla, chase after me.” Rolly said to her.

“Woah, are you challenging me?” She asked proudly.

“Yeah, let’s see if you can beat me!”

“Game!”

They run after each other, not even bother if they sometimes fall. Girls will cheer for Carla and the boys, nonetheless for Rolly. Playground---literally turned out to be an adventure spot for these two kids. They possess that time, as Carla thought, but their silliness and cheerfulness had its limit when Carla’s mom—a very strict teacher gripped her hand as she looked hostile to her daughter. 

The children looked shocked with their teacher’s action.

“Why are you running after that little boy?” Her mom angrily asked.

“Mom, we’re just playing since its recess time.” She shockingly answered.

“How many times did I tell you to lock inside the library and study-- How many times?”

Carla didn’t answer back.

She remembers how her mom strikes a thick ruler on her arms—leaving her in crippling pain.  While looking at the scars, she knows that her sweet memory about herself and her mother fades.

Is she growing up stiffly without any reason to find joy?

Is she meant to tire herself in a small room without any chance to roam in a playground?

And on that night, the 12-year old girl went out from her house. She ran in the rain, the way she chased Rolly. The raindrops sound like the laughter of his classmate. She tiptoed and danced circling in the shower. All she wanted is to play in the rain as part of her favorite thing…And she appreciates again the two lost years of boring and restricting herself.

Carla's not aware that her grandma saw her—she called her and said, “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, grandma.” She answered with a twinkling eyes and smile.

She won’t forget that night.

She would always remember the rain.

She’ll always laugh like she once did in a playground.

She’ll be carrying the scars, but not the wound anymore.

"When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad"

Her grandma sang to her while wrapping a towel on her wet shirt.

Google photo

--30--

We owned the night

The strums of the guitar started. The night sensed its difference from the previous one. The sound was followed by the beat of the drums. The fire was heightened fiercely with its ashes sometimes joined the air. Who can resist the beauty of these gypsies' blending voices? They talked to the nature, and the once silence was covered by graceful dances, clapping of hands, playing with tambourines, yelling and chanting songs, turning around to the fire in the middle. The stillness of the sea started to rave as they continued to feel the beat of music.


This stunning woman who was amid the bonfire and music holds her long skirt so that her feet won’t distract her balance. She stepped into the gray sand smoothly, sometimes closing her eyes as the sound takes her into an ecstasy.


She owned the night. It was perfect, no one judges and discriminate them. The beating of drums got harder as their chant grows louder. They attach to their hearts that moment, because that’s the time that they pray, feel the pain then let go- so that they can live for another day again.


The stars were twinkling and helping the bonfire to lighten their own territory.


Some gypsies of her age would dance together with her- and one muscled man looked at her because she made the world stand still.


Tomorrow, they will return to their same routine. They will live again on the same unacceptable beliefs as others think.

 But what they don’t know- is that normal people also love to dance. Admire their beauty, stubborness- yet able to know the time to become soft.


Dancing is their soft side- they would probably do it once more.

(Inspired by Lady Antebellum's song, We owned the night- credit for the title must go to that song.)

Unflinching eyes

You slice the meat lengthwise, then a pour the flour on it. Then, fry it in 45 degree high. After frying it, place it on a plate and put the milky sauce, and leafy garnish to beautify your recipe. (blah.blah.blah.)

I was unmoved and my eyes were unflinching as I memorized the recipe that I'm going to cook for my daughter's birthday party. I recall how Mamita reprimanded me for not learning any single recipe and here she goes again. Hey, I know how to fry eggs and hotdogs, since my Queenie likes it. She told me that my husband, Bert came from a family of chef. I know I will never meet that standard. But atleast I'm trying. She stopped talking and cautiously looked at my new floral curtain, without sipping yet to the coffee that I prepared for her.

'Ok, so Queenie will turn 7 next month. What's your plan- catering or my son will cook for her eventhough he's busy?' Mamita sarcastically asked me.

'Ahhmm, I'm learning a new recipe now. I'm hoping to learn two other recipes.' My voice was a little shaking.

' Oh, that's good. Before you present that food, I want to taste it first and let's see what remedy  I can offer.'

I just nodded to her while holding my breath. She now glances at my stereo set, then on the red carpet and my figurines.

‘I’ll go in 5 minutes, I just want to know your plan for your daughter’s birthday.’

‘Yes, mamita!’

Finally, she sipped the coffee and said,

‘Haven’t Bert told you that I don’t like cappuccino?’ While her face turned like a bitter gourd.

‘No, mamita. He didn’t tell it to me yet.’

‘Next time know what I want also not just you only knows what you want.’

‘But mamita, I have my own family now. I can’t always know what you want.’

‘Diana, you’re not learning anything look at your place, it’s disorganized.’

I know it ever since, that she doesn’t want me for her son. If only I could say leave me, I will but I’m afraid that my husband will listen to her again as she made her own story. As she kept on staring around the corners of my house and thinking bad thoughts about me, I want to show her a mirror and look on how ugly she is inside. Will this make her stop?

‘Mamita, I think it’s already time. You can now leave.’

She left me without a blink of an eye. She carried with her Loius Vuitton leather bag.

Time saved me. But I know this never-ending battle who’s better-than-who won’t stop. It gives me another stress, and I almost forgot the recipe that I’m learning.

‘

Loving you

One day, a beautiful lady talks to her 17 year old self. She knows that it lives in her and she sees how beautiful and smart she is, but sometimes her weakness creeps in. Oftentimes she’ll fall in love with wrong guys, recklessly complain to her parents, and be disappointed with the result of her studies. That causes that 17 year old girl to cry, doubt and fear for her future.

“Life is uncertain. People come and go and worst they can hurt you.” I remember hearing her before.

Then I told her, “I know you’re hurt, but it doesn’t mean that life is ugly.”

“I don’t know, but I fail to see it now. I’m sorry; I’m so hurt after finding out that the guy I love doesn’t love me back.

“I know that he’s the reason why you feel that way, but you have to let him go for there is bright future for you. You’ll be amazed when God turns your dreams according to His plan for you.”

She didn’t listen instead she cried and covered her face.

This 17 year old girl plays hard to attain peace in her heart, so as she turns 18 until 23, she knows a lot of games but in the end losing the good fight.

After 7 years of a wrestling with her emotions- she cried again to her 24 year old self and said, “Now is your turn, take over me please. Guide me to obey His will. I’m now letting go that sad young lady in me. I want you because you look so loving, kind and graceful. You’re unaware of it, but I love you as who you are. I love to be with you. I’m astonished to the people surrounding you. Yes, I forgot to say it, but I love you the first time we talked. I just didn’t have the courage to listen and obey you. I’m busy with my pains. Forgive me, then.”

I answered, “At that time, I see how beautiful you’ll become someday. I know you’ll follow my steps because I see your determined heart. I understand how you fail and falter and I didn’t condemn you on that. I love you because I’m your future you.”

Then the beautiful lady embraces the young girl in her, brush her hair, looks in her sparkling eyes and both praise the wondrous name of God.

Aisle Take the Chance

Lizzie's eyes shine as she saw the bride walking on the aisle. She's coordinating a wedding from an unknown client. She had a sleepless night as she planned everything to make the wedding memorable, thinking of complimenting flowers on the aisle up to her wonderful gown. The glitz on Lizzie's eyes was captured by a man beside her. Andrew, who saw how she worked hard for this glamorous event, is amazed by her diligence. He picked a flower, looked at Lizzie's smiling face and asked her, "Do you want to have that kind of wedding, too?" She uttered, "Yes, of course."

Andrew finally got the courage to ask her that question and Lizzie looked at the aisle again. Andrew took a photo of her and he said to himself, "Tonight is his night." He'll take the chance into asking her for a dinner and tell her what he'd been keeping for so long.

Lizzie went upstairs to check the whole scene downstairs. She secretly looks at the flower that Andrew gave her. She'd wanted to get it also from him 7 years ago. But he never did. The years in between made her busy into her business and social gatherings. Never did she enter into any flings. She asks herself blushingly, "Is this the perfect time?"

A click from a distant took a moment again-captured were her dreams surrounding the church's stunning look.

Awakening

I went home late at night, then suddenly I saw him outside our house. Just standing and looking from afar. He’s quiet. When he saw me, he faced me and I saw his eyes of regret. I just looked at him. There was a control to neither embrace him nor hold him. There was a distance; the air of stiffness to both of us surrounded us. I stared at him, read, and observed him. I was not thinking of myself but of him. I took my place into his. And it’s hard. I can’t believe how hard it is especially when he told me, “I’m dying soon, Kamile. I got this disease unexpectedly when I slept with another man last year. I didn’t know that he acquired AIDS before.” I wanted to scream into his face but instead, I went with him to see a doctor. “How could this man who inspired me got that illness?” I asked myself. He was just even busy in feeding kids, teaching them passionately and I didn’t know his untold story.

 Does knowing he’ll die soon make me apathetic?

Then he cried in front of me. I went closely as he was repressing his tears. He runaway swiftly then the darkness covered the street until I heard his deep wail. A wail that awakens my senses.

Music

 She’s done with her first set of songs. Some were amazed on her performance, though on the other side of the room- there were men yawning and would rather toast a glass of beer. The dimmed light bar became the refuge of  these young professionals puffing their cigarettes, as they talked about their stresses from work. There were some ladies randomly distributed on the room, divulging to each of their girlfriends how their lovers cheated on them.

Mia saw this everytime she looked at her audience. She’s not just only a singer- but an exceptional one. Her music fills the soul of her heartbroken, pressured and lost listeners. It somehow transported them into a reverie of bliss and solitude.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the New beginning band coming up with their 2^nd set.’ The voice over announced.

The lights from the stage were turned on. The audience yelled and cheered for Mia and her band. Then, she started introducing her first song which is dedicated to all hopeless people from the room. The lead guitarist gave his cue, and Mia gave a beautiful rendition of a song wherein she remembered every precious memories she once had. Yes, once had. Her spectators felt it, thus she captured their hearts. Her hands and hips gracefully swayed, and the moving crowd were swaying and clapping for her. Melody dances in her being, spreading to each part of the room.

Then, she realized, how music gives a connection between her and her audience- and a bond between them and their souls.

Some men were interested to know her number. Heartbroken ladies somehow felt empowered. Her music is a wonderful escape.

But when her song stops- the world will still revolve and encountering daily problems will live by, though it doesn’t matter to her as long as she did her part in entertaining the world.

Red room

After the group discussion, I was invited by Mark to tag along with him in his house. He didn’t invite our classmates, it was solely me. At first, I hesitated but since, it’s his first time to do so; I gave in and went with him. Is this for real, he’s inviting me out?

So I fixed my hair, put a little lipstick and redefine my posture. I have to show him I’m worthy of his invite. As we’re off to his car- he was listening to jazz songs which set me into a good mood. I saw him as he tapped his finger on his steering wheel and he sensed my uncomfortable feeling. So he asked if I wanted to listen into another song. I just nodded. Then, he changed into rock music and those songs made me tap my hands on my lap. He noticed that I like it, so we continued listening to it until we reached his house.

In the front door, I was amazed by the beauty of his white walled house. Inside was a large dining area-full of frames and decorations from different countries. I sensed that my jaw dropped, so I immediately close it- it might lessen my beauty points to him as I thought. He told me that his family was able to produce this house with their sweat and blood. He’s serious in saying the last word. But it didn’t bother me much. I don’t know what made me attracted to Mark-maybe it’s because of his mysterious aura. Yes, he was quite silent-always thinking and wondering, while I’m an observer. Of course, I had a few friends. And he was always alone or with his buddy, James. Though, I heard even before that his family is rich. And those gossips were proven, when I stepped into their house.

‘Would you want some drink, Claire?’ He broke the ice of silence.

‘Yes,please’. I answered awkwardly.

I sat down and speculated why he studied in a State University, though his parents can provide him in a prestigious school. He was too good to be true to stay in our school. It took him in a flash to return with a glass of chilling water.

‘It’s true that you’re really rich. Why did you study in our school?’ I fin’lly got the courage to ask him.

‘My parents also graduated from that school. They taught me the value to start from low before getting into the top.’ His humility confirmed one thing again, why I was attracted to him.

‘Ahh. I see.’ As my eyes smiled at him.

He stood up for awhile, and then asked me to follow him in his room. That made my sweat turned cold and my hands and legs quite tremble. ‘Why would I go into his room?’ I asked myself. But I kept on following him.

Then, he opened the door and I do it afraid. I was looking inside the room and was shocked on what I saw. The room was filled with blood. I could even hear a single drop of blood on the floor. Sometimes, it’s continuous. I had goosebumps and never thought that this would add up into Mark’s mystery. I saw bodies sliced into two that made me almost vomit, but I stopped. I was looking behind me if Mark was there. But he wasn't. He left me with this kind of morbid show. As I continued walking inside the spewing room, I felt pity with those lifeless bodies. I even wanted to get a thread and needle to play a role of a surgeon and just sew their skins, gave their life back through CPR. But I was helpless.

Then, Mark entered the room looking at me cautiously, almost wanted to say, ‘sshhh.’ I remained composed, though my heart beats so fast. Everything I thought of him vanished and I didn’t notice that he was holding a knife. As he came slowly unto me his knife was now visible, that I wanted to scream. As he was near to me, he blurted out, ‘Oh, sorry! Did I scare you? Then, he suddenly put the knife on one of the tiles and continued saying,’ this is the reason why my parents got rich- this is our butchery area. Don’t you like pigs, do you?’ 

‘Haven’t I told you, that I’m already vegetarian after my mom died from cancer?The sight of these pigs made me almost die.’ Such honesty made Mark got interested to me more.

‘Oh, I didn’t know it. Come on! Tell me more about it.’

We went out the room- but the sights of those pigs still lingered on my mind. He said that he’ll be taking care of that business someday. It made me think, ‘Would I bear such view someday?’ Mark sensed me pondering, so he asked me to go out for a snack. I went with him, still wondering.

Until the waiting becomes over

It’s 2:30 in the afternoon, Joan was looking at herself on the video. She was still waiting for her student to arrive because it’s logging time. She stayed stationary on her chair yet her eyes wandered all over the monitor and her hand was on her mouse sometimes clicking or opening any files but one thing she’s uttering silently that the phone would ring and her student would be absent. Then its 2:33. She sent a message to her boss updating the student’s unpunctualness. She waited also for the reply. Then suddenly a memory hits her. One day, she was alone at the park, while waiting for Mark for a long hour. He didn’t appear on the same time she expected him to come. He seemed to forget the value of time when he’s with her. She started texting and calling him but there was no reply. Her heart ached as he waited for 2 hours to the man of his dreams. She was expecting something good from him, yet he was not into it. She went home counting her steps, looking at the ground because she doesn’t want her mom to see her scarlet eyes and nose.

‘Then, 2:38 appeared. Her student wasn’t there yet. She saw a little depression was painted on her face as she continued marveling to that scene.

‘ I told you, he’s not meant for you. But you’re not listening. He always give you burden. Why not leave him?’ her mom said when they’re both alone in her room.

 ‘I thought, he’d already change after he returned to me and promised that he’ll be more committed.’  She said that while catching her breath for a long time crying.

‘When will you open your eyes to the truth that he can’t be that you expect him to be?’

‘Please leave me alone first, mom. I know I need time to mull over this and decide what’s the best for me.’

‘Ok, Joan. Hope you’d also change your mind.’

Her mom closed the door and she looked at the scar on her wrist. She recalled the suicide she committed after her 1^st break up with Mark. She mourned tremendously in losing him because she almost gave everything to him.

After 8 minutes of recalling her bitter past, her honcho told her to still wait for the student.

‘Another waiting again?’ she gasped to herself. ‘Maybe I could take the long waiting forever. I’ve done this before until I realized that it’s no good of help. Why should I just relax and stop looking at my watch after all everything that I’ve been through with him is over. He’s not with me anymore when he decided to be with his other woman.’

The agony of long waiting arrived on its end- when she finally decided to forget him and move on; there’s a light in her heart, eventhough the scars remain. Her eyes finally set on the time and it’s already 2:55. Her student didn’t attend and she realized that long waiting possibly meant 'in just a snap!'