Bonheur, amour et foi: 2011

Image taken from http://www.cyrildphotos.com/images/0001.jpg

This is the image on my office desktop right now. Doesn't the child look dreamily excited?

It's how I would like this new year to be-- full of excitement and dreams fulfilled.

Of course, with love and faith, nothing is impossible.

The door is open, out I go.

Engineering life

My little brother is currently confounded about what he wants to be. We enrolled him at a private university in Manila as an engineering student. At first, everybody was excited and satisfied about his career choice, with Papa as the one in the apex level of both feelings. But just the other day, we were all rattled by my little brother’s admission that he’s having a hard time coping with math lessons. Math used to be his forte back in high school but for reasons like his professor being a bore and the subjects really mind-exhausting, he wanted to give up.

As expected, this shattered Papa’s dreams. He has always wanted to be an engineer and because he didn’t persevere in his studies, he lived with the hope that one of his children would end up pursuing his frustration. But apparently, he again ended up in frustration.

Had I wished to follow Papa’s whim, would he end up being disappointed too? I don’t know. I have followed my heart in choosing my career path. Communications has always been my first and true love. My parents and the whole clan know about that, and mine is the type of personality that can’t be dictated.

Not that my siblings’ were easily bendable either. Mama and Papa had certain expectations for us but never did they force upon us those expectations.

This made life somewhat like a huge puzzle that’s left for us to discover on our own. Our parents guide us with our decisions but mostly, everything progresses out of our independence. In a way, Mama and Papa entrusted us with values that serve as pennies we bring with us to survive the different stations of this world. They got us insured of these values grounded on their faith in God.

Maybe, right now, my parents are having difficulty stopping the urge to steer my brother’s life. I would understand if they get mad once in a while. Eventually, as they’ve done to me, they’d yield to my brother’s own destiny, again in full surrender.

Last night, I heard Ma instruct brother to bring our youngest sister to school. She told him to wake up early and make sure that Miles is clean and all made up by 11:30 in the morning. Before I left for work this morning, brother woke up and looked for Miles.

I wanted to hug him and tell him that things will be much clearer for him. And that no matter what he turns out to be, we’ll always love him.

April Came

April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again

June, she´ll change her tune,
In restless walks she´ll prowl the night;
July, she will fly
And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
September I´ll remember.
A love once new has now grown old.



Certain songs make us think of certain people. Sometimes, I, too, am guilty of committing suicidal remembering.Blame it on certain songwriters, like Simon & Garfunkel.

Giving in on The Giver

The Giver by Lois Lowry (1993) was the last book I bought in 2010. It was standing among the makeshift bookshelves in one of UP's Christmas Bazaar kiosks when I chanced upon it. Even way back, I have been intrigued or rather it curiosified (if there's such a word)."Intrigue" is a burdensome word that awaits justification, the book reminds me of language precision anyway, and so I'm trying.

I recall reading the blurb first, for that's my usual way of pre-judging a book, and feeling that sense of curiosity. My internal disposition then was that of being ready to give myself away, to I-don't-know-what. I just felt that for the entire year, I have been hesitant to open myself up with anything, to anyone. And hence the decision.

It was only not until yesterday that I began reading it.

The book shattered me. No, it disappointed me but in a good way.

It's one of those Utopia readings I enjoyed reading. It talks about a certain community where everything is in order, all matters in black and white. It presents to its readers a world where there are no options to worry about because each tiny detail of everyday life is being taken care of by certain groups of people. It's a smoothly controlled community, with its people bounded by rules and of course, consequences, which are not only respected but honored.

It is a world where sorrow, pain and death are euphemized. Where feelings are dealt with matter-of-factly.

In that world, people manage to not feel love fearing that it might lead them to chaos. They select a person to bear the memories of extreme emotions brought about by starvation, war, physical abuse, emotional abuse, and yes, love, as they live their own systematic lives, not worrying about such feelings.The chosen person then receives all the memories relating to such feelings from his generation to the previous generation and "back and back and back".

With the memories, both joyful and remorseful, come wisdom. And so the selected person comes to a realization that things should not be as they are in his world. And Elsewhere he goes.

The Giver left me, like the main child character, Jonas, gently sliding down on that snowy hill with mounds of ice stuck on my sled...

The day after

On my way to work this morning, I saw a friend on the road, smiling. "Antok pa?" I returned her question with a touch on her shoulder. Her shoulder felt like my pillow. I smiled.

This morning is not like most mornings. It feels like I got drunk last night. The series of days before this morning was unlike my usual days, where everything was spic-and-span. Those were good old days, and I miss them, a lot. But they're gone. Either they were snatched away or buried. And yesterday was the climax of the series.

This morning assured me of a different sensation. It is as if I just got into hell and ended up back in my room, cuddled in my bed.

I love this morning.

---
"Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kept on." -Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's

Samantala

Samantala, ang kasiyahan, simbilis man ng isang saglit, ay maaaring mag-iwan ng panghabambuhay na marka.

Alaala

Mahilig akong magtago ng mga alaala. Ticket ng bus, resibo ng fastfood o restaurant, pahina ng kwaderno, mga sulat. Mga isang kahon ang meron ako sa bahay. Iyong iba, napipilitan na kong itapon nang may panghihinayang, kasi nagbubukbok na. Kagabi naalala kong may mga alaala pa ko sa'yo. Hindi ko na kukunin mula sa iyo. Alam ko namang aalagaan mo ang mga iyon.

Hanggang sa muling pagkikita.