Banana Split

Ang pagbabalik ni Kapitan

2008-02-18T14:42:00.002+08:00

Hingal na tinakbo ni Terrence ang kahabaan ng Makati. Hinahabol siya ng ilang hindi maipaliwanag na mga nilalang na gustong makuha ang tangan ng binata.

Iyon na lamang ang tanging pamana ng kanyang Lolo Teng. Hindi niya maunawaan kung bakit ganoon ang binigay nito sa kanya. Ancient na nga siguro kung maituring bagay na iyon, pero pinipilit ng kanyang lolo na sobrang mahalaga ang kanyang iiwan.

Naabutan si Terrence ng mga kakaibang nilalang, inilipad pataas, saka hinulog.

Walang ibang bagay na pumasok sa kanyang isip kundi ang habilin ng kanyang lolo. Desperado, itinaas niya ang kakaibang pamana at sinigaw ang...

Captain Barbell!

Chocolate

2008-02-17T15:25:00.002+08:00

Blood rushing and gushing with phenethylamine.

A wave of hormones coming in.

And you and I started to hold each other's hand.

And you and I started to melt.
So bitter.
So sweet.

Binigyan Mo Ako Ng Rosaryo Ngayong Pasko

2008-02-10T22:55:00.000+08:00

Magsasampung na taon na mula ng pumasok ka sa seminaryo sa may Novaliches. Sabi mo sa akin, susundan mo si Kristo katulad ng ginawa ni San Ignacio. Siyempre, hindi maiwasang malungkot ako. Siyempre, nawala ka kasi sa buhay ko.

Maligaya na tayo noon. Maligaya na ako sa mga sandaling hawak mo ang aking kamay habang tayo'y naglalakad sa kalsadang iniilawan ng buwan at ng buwan lamang. Maligaya na ako sa mga mumunting halik na hindi ko man hiningi ngunit patuloy mong binigay, hiningi, at ninakaw sa akin. Maligaya na ako sa mga panahong nakaupo tayo sa may damuhan habang pinagmamasdan ang pagsikat at paglubog ng araw. Maligaya na ako sa mga pagkakataong nakatingin ka lang sa aking mga mata habang sinasabi mo sa akin, "wala nang iba. Ikaw na, ikaw na."

Ngunit biglang dumating ang araw na naisip mo, mas maligaya Siya kapag sa Kanya mo ibinigay ang iyong buong buhay.

Alala ko pa noon, nung araw na kinuha Ka niya sa akin. Sinabi mo aalis ka. Tanong ko naman kung saan. Sabi mo papunta sa Kanya. Sabi ko hindi ko maintindihan. Tiningnan mo na lang ang aking mga mata. Wala na, wala na yung mga matang nagsabing "ikaw na, ikaw na." Hinalikan mo ang aking noo, hinawakan ang aking mga pisngi at pumikit, wari'y umiimik ng mga dasal na hindi ko naman naririnig.

Yinakap mo ako at sinabing, "hindi naman ako mawawala. Malalayo lang naman ako ng kaunti mula sa iyo."

Magsasampung taon na mula ng nangyari iyon. Walang gabing pinalagpas na hindi kita inisip, hinanap, ipinagdasal, iniyakan.

Nagulat ako ngayong paskong gabi nang may narinig akong kumakatok sa aming pinto. Nakahapag na ang hamon at ang pinya, buo na ang pamilya, kaya't sino ang maaaring darating pa?

Ikaw pala, sa iyong sutana.

Ngumiti ka at iniabot ang iyong kamay na waring magbibigay mano sa akin. Kinuha ko ito, hinalikan ang iyong palad at iniabot sa aking pisngi. Tumawa ka, at ako'y yinakap. Wala na akong nagawa kundi tumawa't umiyak.

Pinapasok sana kita, ngunit sabi mo'y lilisan ka rin naman agad, kaya huwag na akong mag-abala pa. Tinanong ko ang sarili kung bakit ka narito, kung nilisan mo na nga ba ang seminaryo, kung babalikan mo na nga ba ako.

Ngumiti ka lang at tiningnan ang aking mga mata.

Biglang naisip ko, oo nga pala, ikaw pala, sa iyong sutana.

Ngunit bakit ka nga ba nandito?

"Para ibigay ito sa'yo."

Inilagay mo sa aking palad ang isang maliit na itim na kahon na may kaunting kabigatan. Hinawakan ko ito ng aking parehong kamay at inilapit sa aking dibdib.

Anong masamang biro ito?

"Hindi 'yan biro. Buksan mo."

Binuksan ko ang kahon at nakakita ako ng mumunting butil na pilak na nakasabit sa isang maliit na krus na pilak din. Makintab. Mukhang mamahalin. Mukhang minahal.

Hindi ko maintindihan.

"Elena, magiging pari na ako sa susunod na taon. Gusto ko lang sanang iwan ito sa iyo, bago ako tuluyang maging Kanya."

Bakit, rosaryo?

"Gusto kong matuto ka. Matuto ka katulad ni Maria."

Si Maria?

"Ang buhay mo'y hindi iyo, kung hindi kay Hesus. Ang buhay mo ay sa Kanya."

Masakit.

"Masakit talaga kung hindi mo tuluyang ibigay sa Kanya ang lahat."

Napakasakit. Hindi ko maintindihan.

"Magdasal ka sa Kanya, Elena."

Hinalikan mo ang aking noo, hinawakan ang aking mga pisngi at pumikit, wari'y umiimik ng mga dasal na hindi ko naman naririnig. Niyakap mo ako at naglakad ka na papalayo. Iniwan mo ako sa may pinto habang ramdam na ramdam ko ang aking pusong pinabigat ng lamig ng iyong pamamaalam.

Maria, ganito rin ba ang naramdaman mo nang sabihin mong oo?

Sundin ang loob Mo, dito sa lupa para nang sa langit.

Kabog

2008-02-10T21:22:00.000+08:00

Dali-daling tumakbo ang batang paslit paakyat sa kanyang kwarto. May nakapasok sa kanilang tahanan, at nakahandusay sa kanilang sala ang kanilang kasambahay na wala nang buhay. Naririnig niya ang sirena ng mga pulis mula sa loob ng aparador kung saan minarapat niyang magtago.

Kinakabahan.

Isang mahabang putukan na may kasamang hiyawan ang kanyang narinig. Hindi niya maintindihan ang mga sinisigaw ng mga nagbabarilan sa baba. Simbilis ng ratratan ng mga bala ang tibok ng kanyang puso.

Katahimikan. Nawala ang tinig ng sirena. Natigil ang putukan. Nanginginig na naghintay ang bata sa loob ng aparador, nakikiramdam kung ligtas na ba siya.

Biglang dumating sa kanyang tainga ang mabigat na yabag ng isang taong mabagal na umaakyat sa hagdan. Lalong lumakas ang kabog sa dibdib ng bata. Basang-basa na rin and damit niya sa init at kaba. Hindi niya napansin na bumukas na pala ang pinto ng kwarto kung nasaan siya.

Bumukas ang aparador kung saan siya nagtago, at imahe ng isang lalake ang tumambad sa kaniya.

Relativity.

2008-02-07T19:41:00.000+08:00

Ask her and she will blame something. Anything.

It won't matter just what. The frogs, with innards for a skeleton and air for innards. The keyboard with the rubbed-off letters. Grocery-shopping. An insatiable urge to paint. The mountainous pile of dishes in the sink, waiting to be scrubbed and rinsed clean.

There are things she won't tell you about, though. There are things she will not blame.

The text messages saved in her phone, in the folder named not with letters, but with a series of spaces. The conversations in her archives, folder titled not with a name, but with a word-that-isn't.

She won't tell you about the tears.

You wouldn't know about them - not from looking at her. The eternal optimist - she-who-does-not-bear-scars. She who wouldn't know a battle if it sat on her shoulder and stabbed it - she who will never, ever cry for someone with male gonads. She will laugh, she will scream, she will run butt-naked around the Academic Oval - twice - but she won't cry. You see, she isn't supposed to cry. You could ask her about her wet pillow and she will, with a smile on her face, chalk it up to drool.

She will not call it denial. She will tell you that denial is for those who believe themselves to be in love - after all, to be in denial, you must acknowledge the presence of something to deny. She will blame her raging hormones, the backwardness of her brain, her irrational preference for all things odd and quirky. She will say it so well, too - that perfectly imperfect plausibly-casual accent that she has been working on since she started to learn English in nursery will be put into play, and you will feel stupid for even thinking that there was anything to deny.

She won't betray a single hint of emotion. She will express interest, but there will be so little to back it up that you'll think she's been taking you for a ride.

She's a strange dichotomy - so strange, in fact, that you could know all about it and still not believe it to be real. You will see her neurosis - see the mood swings, see the wholly inappropriate reactions, see her respond to the commonest of things - but you will believe her when she tells you the reason why she flinches. You will believe her, because you won't be able to believe that it is possible to compartmentalize and camouflage emotion in such a way that it is contorted beyond recognition into something entirely different - and entirely believable.

You will believe her when she tells you what makes her tick, because though you know that there has to be more than what she tells you, it will be too strange to be comfortably believable.

For instance, you will not believe her when she tells you she has fallen in love with the last person you'd expect her to want. You will not believe her when she tells you she lies for your sake, because really, would you want to believe the truth? She will tell you that she's cried for him more times than she cares to count, not because he has done something, but because he hasn't done anything. She will tell you that she cries due to the lack of reciprocity and you will not believe her. You will not believe her because it is unlike her, and your perception of her will not allow you to see her any other way.

You will not believe her, because it is her - because it is incomprehensible that someone like her should fall as hard as she has, and because her lies are her last facade - and what a facade it is, too, when all she does is stay veiled behind the truth.

There is no better place to hide than in plain sight, she will say, and you will believe her, but not understand.

absence

2008-02-05T19:19:00.000+08:00

staring at the blank page

2-3 pages due tomorrow.

can't think of anything to write.

can't think of anything else.

can't think.

staring at the blank page

of a hundred goodbyes

and a thousand see-you-laters.

can't feel anything else.

.....

can't feel.

i don't want to.

i'm afraid to start

because i won't know when i'll stop.

as i stare at the blank page of the unwritten goodbye

you pass yours.

Laya

2008-02-03T22:15:00.000+08:00

Dahan-dahan kong itinaas ang aking mga kamay. Wala akong laban, at nakapalibot sa akin armadong singkit. Hindi ko maintindihan ang kanilang sinasabi, at hindi ako sigurado sa kahihinatnan ko.

Iilang araw pa lang akong nakakulong kasama ang iba pang mga sundalo, pero eto ako't nilalabas. Dinala nila ako sa gitna ng kampo. kung saan nakatayo ang ilang mga sundalong singkit. Bawat isa'y may baril na hawak na tila nagaabang na lang ng hudyat bago nila gamitin ito.

Eto na ata ang aking katapusan.

Isang putok ang umalingawngaw, patungo sa aking paglaya.

the kite

2008-02-03T18:15:00.000+08:00

through the thin yarn that connects you

to the red diamond paper

you send your dreams flying.

you hold on tight and wish it would fly higher.

you whistle and wait for the wind

(because whistling brings in the wind, your playmates say)

while you keep on running

the grass and the weeds tickling your feet.

you smile as you feel the rush of wind on your face

("it's working", you say to yourself)

higher and higher the kite flew

bobbing up and down in the marble blue sky

higher and higher

smaller and smaller

until it became the size of a paper clip

you squint your eyes from the blinding sun

and you try to measure the kite with your index and thumb

it's so small, you think

so small.

the spool is spinning as it went even further up.

and the yarn is getting few.

you hold on to what is left.

but then, you want your kite to soar higher

let it take your dreams to heaven

(someone up there might just hear your wishes)

and you just let go

of the thin yarn that connects you and the red diamond paper.

the paperclip.

smaller and smaller.

until it faded into the blue marble sky.

the great small arsonist

2008-02-03T14:49:00.001+08:00

tongues sharp firing forth flickering fire

strangling shoving choking

forcing life out of the

once free

green forest sunlight bathed

yellow rays through the canopy

warming untamed life in its glorious liberty

this will only remain in the cobwebs of my memory

be careful with your fiery tongue.

dismay

2008-01-20T20:44:00.000+08:00

I thought that nothing changed, and that somehow you'll live up to your words.

But no.

Flush Fiction

2008-01-04T13:36:00.000+08:00

I thought you needed me. But apparently, you didn't need me anymore. You just sucked me up until I was dry and useless. Then you threw me down to the stagnant waters.

I was scared.

Kaya pala

2008-01-04T01:22:00.000+08:00

Hahanapin kita. Hintayin mo ako.

Sinabi ko iyon sa iyo bago ka lumipad dalawang taon na ang nakakaraan. Pangako. Kahit saang lupalop ng mundo ka man mapadpad, hahanapin kita. Balak ko talagang gawin iyon: ang sundan ka. Kaya ko namang gawin iyon, kailangan ko lang tapusin ang dapat. Para sa akin. Lalo na para sa atin.

Pero sabi mo sa akin noon...

Huwag.

Handa akong gawin lahat. Pag-aaralan ko anuman ang kailangan. Pag-iigihan ko para masundan kita diyan. Pupuntahan kita, at isasama kita pabalik.

Pauwi.

Pero sabi mo sa akin noon...

Huwag...

Ngayong kaharap na kita, alam ko na kung bakit.

Log Me Out

2008-01-02T19:06:00.000+08:00

Who are you?

I don’t really know.

Well then…

Huh?

Log me out.

What?

Click.

And the blinking vertical black bar just stares at me, waiting for the next clackety clacks to blacken the invisible curves and lines of the white electronic paper.

I stare back.

Log me out.

Click.