Final marejada 2014

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Childhood: When Innocence

was

bliss

a d a j e r Ma 2014


Childhood: When Innocence

was

bliss


Childhood: When Innocence

was

bliss

Annual Literary Folio of The BEACON Publications

Marejada

Vol. XV, Issue I email: marejadafolio@yahoo.com

All rights revert to their respective authors and artists Credits: Various digital illustrations courtesy of Dominic Cabatit Cover image courtesy of Ioneebel Garcia Layout courtesy of Bianca Alyana Zamora

Typeset in

Twentysingles,

Layout in Adobe Indesign Digital Processing in Adobe Photoshop Minion Pro, Voluptate_demo,Times New Roman


Childhood: When Innocence

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m a r e j a d a

2 0 1 4


foreword Childhood: When Innocence

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Once upon a time is how we often knew that something great was about to unfold, something phantasmagorical and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, and something far beyond our imaginings yet very much palpable and probable all the same, once upon a long time ago when we were still children. And they lived happily ever after was how we knew that all was well with the world, that we could rest easy knowing evil never triumphs, and that forever exists within that happily ever after, no matter what we say otherwise about the nonexistence of forever. Many scholars say, and several studies have backed this, that innocence is the most important aspect of childhood. It is that underlying factor that lets us see things as what they appear to be, and lets us trust what seems trustworthy and doubt what is sinister-looking. Ultimately, it is what urges us to question the things that genuinely interest us, without having inhibitions as to what the adults would think or say. But all too soon, we started to realize that we were growing up. Albeit still cloaked in the naivete intrinsic to being a child, our curiosities started to question things we would have been better off not knowing, yet the adults insisted that we needed to be privy to all the same. It is in this way that we indeed learned the ways of the world, yet we rid ourselves of the uninhibited and innocent way we saw it: pure, good, and true. What this issue of Marejada asks of you, dear reader, is to try once more to see the world as you have seen it as a child. Beyond seeing, try to picture it the way Antoine de Saint-Exupery did after having met the Little Prince, for “it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Try once more to see the world as pure, good, and true. These stories, poems, photographs, and renditions of art reflect the was-once innocent minds in our very own pool of creative minds, minds that have tried to see and feel back to the way a child might experience the world. These students and members of the faculty and staff may not have it all right, but their perspectives into and of their childhoods are true, as are yours when you realize their stories are reminiscent of some things you may have experienced too all these years ago.

Don’t look back now. Pristine Janielle F. Padua Marejada Curator


contents Childhood: When Innocence

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bliss

POETRY

08 Anino ng Bata by Genifer Buckly BSEd – Filipino, IV 09 A Stroll Down Memory Lane by John Eldricks Ayoma BSAC – IV 10 Another Shot at Childhood by Bianca Roma De Leon BS Bio-I 11 Boro by Jonah Bucoy BSEd- English, III 12 Comporme Mundo by Kristine Liwasan BEED- IV 13 El Risas by Jennifer Ray Tibayan BSEd – English, IV 14 Hold on to It by Irene Wahab BSAC – III 15 I Didn’t Know by Phoebe Marie Mandi BSAC – I 16 Iha by Zsarina Joy Guevara BSEd – III 17 Innocent Tears by Omaira Suaib BS Bio – I 18 Lingasa by Nikka Lagua BSAT – III 19 Please, oh please! by Therese Duterte BS Bio - III 20 Sa Kaloob-looban ng Kinalalagyan by Juvi Serag BSAC – I 21 Senryus: A Collection by Jamila Becca Daud BSAC – II 22 Juicio Bata by Damieca Esguerra BEED - IV 23 Restless Child by Jasper Andrew Adjarani SMA Faculty 24 Katong Bata Pa Ta! by Mishelle Ong BSEd – English, II 25 Naigo sa Bala by Rogin Eribal BEED – IV 26 Patta’ Nakauna by Waho Madjilon BSAC – II 27 Su Rin Gembata Ita Pa (Sa Aking Pagkabata) by Vir Ian Jun Guzon BSAC-I


Childhood: When Innocence

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PROSE 30 Thank you for Fairy Tales by Jobelle Kristine de Leon BSAC - V 34 Jaren by Jennifer Ray Tibayan BSEd – English, IV 36 Once Upon A Time by Heidelyn Tan and Xavier Agraviador AB Philo III, and BSAC – V

42 Sampaguita by Putli Monaira Amilbangsa IV-St. Peter Faber (HS) 44 Dula Ra Ang Nasa Huna-huna by Friend Hayzer Gregorio BSEdBiological Sciences, IV

PHOTOGRAPHY 48 Photo Entry of Bianca Ellice Luistro BA-Comm II 50 Photo Entry of Kenneth Chuacon BS ECE II 51 “Crisis Lights” by Fazniyara Lukman BA-Comm IV 52 Photo Entry of Lea Lim BS Bio II 53 Photo Entry of Dwight Yu BS OA 54 “The Climb” by Mark Phillip Ycaza BS Bio II 56 Acknowledgments 58 Editorial Board


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Childhood: When Innocence

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P O E T R Y


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Childhood: When Innocence

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WINNER 2014 PREMIOS MAREJADA

Childhood is a stream of years flowing along the banks of innocence, and though it shapes who or what becomes of us, it often culminates in a lagoon of questions and regrets. Anino ng Bata wades into the irony of how the shield, the limit and the cover nurture a naïveté –a child trapped in childhood in an adult world. For this achievement, it is thus named the winner of the 2014 Premios Marejada for Poetry.

Anino ng Bata by Gen Buckly

Ituring mo akong tauhan sa aking kapalarang nakalaan. ‘Pagkat namulat sa mundong sinilangan, itutula ko ang balita ng bagong kabihasnan. Nasunog ang munting kubo, bahay ng negosyante, nadamay! May-ari ng kubo, ikukulong. Gabi na! Isara mo na ang pinto, hindi nasunog ang iyong bahay, hindi ikaw ang ikukulong. Bumagyo at bumaha sa Luzon! Maraming bata ang nawalan ng mahal sa buhay. Gabing-gabi na! Patayin mo na ang telebisyon Wala ka sa Luzon, Hindi ikaw ang nawalan ng mahal sa buhay. Nagtutulak ng bawal na gamot, natuklasan! Taong humihithit, nakita at hinuli. Malalim na ang gabi! Hayaan mo na lang, hindi ikaw ang nagtutulak, hindi ikaw ang nahuli. Taong naglalakad sa may kanto binaril at namatay. Hating gabi na! Huwag ka makialam, hindi ikaw ang binaril, hindi ikaw ang namatay.

Itinaas na ang sahod ng mga manggagawa ngunit lamang rin ang babayaran sa buwis. Madaling araw na! Wala ka nang magagawa, hindi ikaw ang manggagawa. Hindi ikaw ang magbabayad ng buwis. Taong nakapagtapos ng may mataas na karangalan, nangungunang kurakot sa lipunan. Umaga na! May pasok ka pa, hindi ka pa nakapagtapos, hindi pa ikaw ang kurakot. Hubad man sa katotohanan ang mundo, huwag naman itago sa amin ang totoo nang maintindihan naman namin ang mundo. Maging sa kabataan ko, ‘di ko ikinatuwa ito.


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A Stroll Down Memory Lane by John Eldricks Ayoma

One cloudy noon, he grabbed his cane

He saw brothers kill each other in war,

and took a stroll down memory lane,

he saw hapless faces and that left a scar,

to when he was a boy of four

he saw the beasts getting fatter in greed

when the world he knew was perfect and

and a dying planet, so tragic indeed.

pure.

There was blood everywhere, he tried to wipe

Then, the world was one big playground

it clean

where wonder, not money, made the world go

but what he saw can never be unseen.

‘round.

As he looked back, this cloudy noon,

candies were diamonds, chocolates were

he wished he didn’t grow up too soon.

gold, and everything was a sight to behold. The world was heaven when he was four, then down the road, he was seven once more. No stress, no deadlines, no occupation, Just a kid with his imagination. He sailed with pirates, he ruled with kings. He rode on dragons with flaming wings. No greed, no war, no injustice too, the world was magical, peaceful, and true. He wished that he would grow old never but nothing good can last forever. When he was fourteen, the tables turned, his bridge to childhood forever burned. He finally saw through his juvenile lens and shed himself of his innocence. Then he saw the world he thought he knew and it was dark, cruel, and untrue.


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Another Shot at Childhood by Bianca Roma De Leon

The dentist used to tell me

My teacher was alarmed

that I should care for my teeth:

at the plummet of my grades.

“Brush it twice a day,

“I’m tired,” I reasoned.

and avoid too much sweets.”

“Bring back the old days.”

The doctor used to tell me

And my parents never saw

that I should get enough sleep:

my need for their love.

“Eight hours or more a day,

They tuck in my little brother

and meals shouldn’t be skipped.”

but I’m old, so they don’t bother.

My teacher used to tell me

And I’d see some old memories:

I should do well in school:

My graduation picture, my report card

“Do all your homework,

my perfect health record,

be smart, don’t be a fool.”

my bear and my art.

My parents used to tuck me

I feel old, and uncared for.

in my bed, every night.

What have I done?

“Good night, our dearest.”

Since when did aging

“We’re here, don’t cry.”

mean losing all the fun?

Now the dentist asked me

I miss acing in school,

why some of my teeth were amiss.

and not studying for survival.

I’d rather lose them all

I miss getting toys for Christmas,

than lose the sweet taste of bliss.

not cold cash or none at all.

And my doctor asked me

Oh, the things I’d give

about the bags under my eyes.

to get back my childhood

They’re not from lack of sleep alone

and not to rush in growing up,

but lack of joy and surprise.

not to waste away my youth.


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Boro

by Jonah Bucoy Boro, amo el palabra, del de amun alegria. Amo ta llama con el gente na juego pirmi ta perde. Este’l mi istoria de boro, que ahora como un sueño. Oi tu kay este vale, masquin de jovenes este. Estaba aga hasta tarde, el un plaza lleno de gente. Maga jovenes tan junto-junto, y tan alegria na maga juego. Ya empeza con el cujihan, yo el primero ya perde. Comigo todo talabangan, kay yo bien hinay ta corre. Ya segunda con el jolen, yo perdido ya tambien. Ya llama ya sila boro, kay yo ya perde dos juego.

Este ya, tan oscuro ya, vale juga escondijan. “Quien planta?,”pregunta sila, “El boro na cujihan.”

Todo sila bien alegre, alegre tenta con el boro. Kay el boro hende ta sale, masquin bien vale el juego. Masquin cansao man el mi vida, mi vida boro yo ta gusta. Kay este’l ta lleva alegria, na maga jovenes de plaza.


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Comporme Mundo by Kristine Liwasan

Mirando arriba cielo lleno de estrellas, ta bira maga antes dia, maga dia questionable pa el todo, cuando dolor pa hay desconocido. Saca alla, pone aqui, despues de mio ya el los de mas. Mirando con el maga las cosas que bonito, salta aqui, camina alla, corre maskin donde que libertad el mundo ta puede dale. Converza contigo, kanila, maskin con quien gente. Mio maga cuento sila hay ta oi enbuenamente y mi maga istoria que todo hay ta cree; que saber el mundo ta conforme. Acabando el lagrimas, risas ya hay ta principia. Despues cada herida, curando ya hay ta alivia Como no hay ta esta tarda Este maga sentido hay pasando lang na vida. Que todo las cosas no hay pa nada y mundo puro lang de alegria.


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El Risas

by Jennifer Ray Tibayan

Bien callao el maga orejas como ta dinigri de duelencia. Todo maga flores oloroso, este ahora maga dia no hay mas ya. El cuarto bien oscuro dol un bodega, casa ya de maga raton. Na puerta y maga ventana grueso el buling, luz de afuera hinde mas ta ilumina. El cara del mi nana ya aguanta, mojao el cosa yo ta agara. No hay mas sabe cosa, ya usa ya lang aqui ropa del mi tata. Grande el ropa como un vestida, el maga mangas ta llega na medio brazo. Gumamela na pono el cosa yo ya lleva, ya recibi con su mano que palido y frio. Cuando ta atraca ya, con el mi nana ta busca, mi grande ropa ele ya puede mira y conmigo le fuerte ya abrasa. Bien fuerte risas yo ya oi, yo mismo ya estra単a na momento y yo mismo ya puede todas ri y el luz na ojos del mi nana mientras tanto ya bira ya.


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Hold on to it by Irene Wahab

I remember how the dark was scary,

And yes, sometimes people will just leave you

shapes of ghost and witches looming around.

but that doesn’t mean that nobody stays.

Now it’s strange, finding comfort in the dark,

There will be nights when you will catch

voices in my head are like the monsters’ sound.

yourself so happy with those who actually care.

Back then too, every time I got scared, my mom and dad, they always saved the day

Once, I thought to smile means we are happy

but I realized, there are some villains

and to cry simply suggests otherwise,

so mighty, even heroes wouldn’t dare.

until I learned how we can laugh in pain, and shed tears while bursting with so much joy.

And when some things started going awry many told me, ‘I will always be here.’

Innocence indeed is a precious gift.

I started questioning what ‘always’ meant,

It’s tragic when life takes it bit by bit

when I was in tears, and nobody was there.

but somehow, if you do find it again, darling this time, you should hold on to it.

And then as I continued to grow up, I learned to drown the devil’s loud whisper by acknowledging that I have value. There’s beauty in my soul, said the mirror. And now each time my siblings and I fight, it comes to me that life isn’t so bad ‘cause when I was young, it meant pure hatred when really, it’s undeniably, love.


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I didn’t know by Phoebe Marie Mandi

My cartoons were fights that my parents had every night, but that was okay because I didn’t know. My lullabies were screams, bad nightmares instead of dreams but I was okay because I didn’t know. I thought glasses were for drinking but they’d always end up breaking but never mind, I didn’t know. I thought belts were for wearing but they’d always leave me smarting but I stayed strong because I didn’t know. I thought home was where I was safest but it turned out home was where the pain was maybe I’m just confused because I didn’t know. Even though it wasn’t usual, for me, those things were “normal.” What a normal childhood felt like, that, I didn’t know.


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Hija

by Zsarina Joy Guevara

Un mil novecientos noventa y siete, cuando el sol arriba pa y caliente. Mientras su nana na rio ta laba, y su tata na sementera ta arria.

Apenas le ya bira cabeza, un cara no puede mas pinta ele ya repara. El cara del su Tata, ele que ay enfrenta.

Na su mano agarando un pitaka, y na otro lao un peineta. Adelante con ele, un espejo grande.

“Junior!,” el grito del su tata. “Señor!,” el rezo del su nana.

Despues ya hace sale su burak y coloretes, y ya usa le un oro aretes. Como un meticulosa, el burak na cara ya pasa. Como un pintor ya pinta su pico colorao, despues na altar ele bien sentao. Na baul del su nana un vestida de iglesia, enfrente na espejo ya vesti el camisa. Na cuarto ya man rampa, como un modelo de tampa-tampa. Su maga mano na cadera, y ya bayla como un ballerina. Su maga risas hay no puede mas agara, y el alegria na su ojos hay no puede compara. Mientras bien ocupao na su diutay mundo, un grito le ya oi estaba na su cuarto.

Asegun na su corazon, hinde le queda un maton. Y ele hay hinde un unico hijo, Por ele hay un unica ‘hija.’


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Innocent Tears by Omaira Suaib

Why is the sky blue as if it’s sad? Why is the grass green? Why are we not spinning, if the world is spinning? Why are my questions left unanswered? Is it because I really don’t care? The sound of joy and laughter, the smell of the fresh breeze. Hands connect us together to form a big circle of friends while singing “It’s a Beautiful Day!” Twirling around while wearing a frilly dress, liking the things I love and hate; being told by adults that I’m “special” and I didn’t like that word so I pretended not to understand it. Living in the fantasy with those characters doesn’t bother the world of reality --reality that was slowly eating me. With my teddy bear in my arms, there was not a thing that scared me. Now the red balloon flies away, and has already burst into pieces. It can no longer lift my evolved body and take me away to Neverland where all the lost things can be found. Walking all alone to the place I used to play, touching this belly of mine with such care, while tears of regret fall from my eyes and words spill from my mouth without meaning to “Ah... It would be better if innocence grew old with me.”


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Lingasa

by Nikka Lagua

Acabar man siesta junto na mio abuela, ya desperta yo na cancion de vida, malingasa y bien curioso con el mundo redondo. Un inocente ni単o ta sigue na viento. Bueno tiempo para juga junto na mio maga amigo y busca apan y juga buru-buruju. Ya escapa na casa ta lleva el pitikan, ojala, no mas era conmigo encontra! El dia ya pasa y alegre kame ya volve, olvidado kay ta espera el maga pariente. Marosingon y el sonrisa bien grande hinay-hinay ya pasa na cocina, ta reza suerte.


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Please,oh please! was

bliss

by Therese Margarette Duterte

There was a time when troubles were few, when dreams were foolish and love was true. There was a time when I was reckless, and I could run and play and go home breathless. There was a time when I worried no more than the price of a candy at the big red store. Those days are gone, when I only dreamed about Disneyland. But now the fun is done, on a platform where I recite and stand. If I could bring these times back, I’d pray to the heavens, “Please, oh please!” Send me back to those good old days when innocence was bliss.


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Sa Kaloob-looban ng Kinalalagyan by Juvi Serag

Binuksan ang kahong puno ng laman, sa ibabaw ay mga librong ipinalagay na magagamit pa sa kolehiyo. Sa singit ng isang pahina, tuyong rosas, sa gawing kaliwa, ang wala nang laman na rolyo ng tisiyu. Katabi yaon, mga tabloid at magasin, sa bandang kanan, mga pangunang lunas sa karaniwang sugat. Nakadikit malapit rito, mga litrato. Sa malalim na nibel, mga librong pampataas ng tingin sa sarili. Kasunod, maliliit na mga kahon, Nakapaloob, mga samu’t saring subenir mula sa mga kaibigan. Sa mas malalim pa ng kahon, mga sulat; Iba-iba, sulat ng pasasalamat, pag-ibig, at pamamaalam. Sa kaloob-looban ng kinalalagyan, manika. Sumunod, pagluha ng mata, pagbilis ng tibok ng puso. Sa isang iglap, naalala ang pilit na kinalimutan; Alaala ng manikang minsan nang itinapon sa basurahan. Pait ng karanasan noong kamusmusan matapos madiskubre ang lihim na matagal nang pinoprotektahan. Sa isang lalagyan, nabuking ang liham ng pagmamahal ng kapwa sa paaralang pinapasukan kasama ng mga mapulang rosas. Naroon din mga larawan ng pinapantasyahang nakapaloob sa tabloid at magasin. Nakayayamot na alaala ng aking kabataan nagdala ng mga sugat at luha. Tinago, pansamantalang nilunasan at pinunasan. Walang nagawa kundi ang pagkimkim sa kaloob-kalooban.


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Senryus A Collection :

by Jamila Becca Daud

Eyes wide and alive, skin so fine and porcelain, brought fear to my life. Two unlikely things protected me from evil: The light and Teddy. Oh scars and bruises – the signs of a great childhood; Look how time has changed. I remember when Math was just from 1 to 10, sadly, that was then. Oh look at the time! What once were the Brothers Grimm now became Shakespeare. I used to cry then but the reason was never the pain from heartbreak. Pouts and stomping feet were not nice but sure it did get us what we wanted. You know you’re a child when how to put Humpty back was what worried you.


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Juicio Bata by Damieca Esguerra

Apurao ta corre para juga, aguarda con el lodo y piedra. Acustao na verde zacate de Mayo hasta quema bajo na sol entero dia. Ta canta canciones de alegria junto con el amigo y amiga. Ta baila como un robot jurgesa sobre entretener con el maga mayores. Ya sale na casa de blanco con aroma oloroso. Ya volve na casa bien negro, con lodo su camisa. Que bale gayot queda Uun bata no hay lingasa. Todo el intencion hay queda; si Jollibee lleno de alegria.


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Restless Child

by Jasper Andrew Adjarani Restless child, why do you cry when your dear mother sings you a lullaby? Don’t you know the tunes and melodies she sings or you simply detest the way her voice rings? Restless child, why do you cry when your father scolds you when you say a lie? Didn’t you know where fraudsters and liars go or do you merely hate the truth that you know? Restless child, how does it feel to go through every day with only one meal? Have you thought of roaming our wild city streets to ask people for coins or something to eat? Restless child you’re worth more than this. You deserve to feel loved and be cherished. This life is too harsh for angels like you. You need to escape, so here’s what we’ll do: Restless child, come home, come along. I’ll feed you everyday and sing you my song. Oh, I won’t even mind you lying to me. I’ll even take off my belt, don’t fear, you’ll see. Restless child, you’re free like a dove. I’m here for you, darling. Come and let’s make love. I swear you won’t regret the taste of my lips or the way you’ll gasp for air when I grab your hips Restless child, why do you cry? Was it something I said? Was I too sly? Smile for me, please. No need to worry. Don’t mind what they say. I’m here, my baby. Restless child, how does it feel when I savor your beauty just like a meal? Our secret is safe; don’t tell mom and dad. It’s better this way; they won’t understand.


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Katong Bata, Pa Ta ! by Mishelle Ong

Nahinumduman ko pa ang mga adlaw nga ako’y gibuhian, na murag langgam sa langit na luwas sa mga problema. Mga adlaw nga puro kalipay ang nahunahunaan, walay laing gihanduraw kundi puro dula. Katong bata pa ta daghan kaayo tag pangutana sa tanang butang sa kalibutan inosente kaayo ta. Usahay mapungot na si papa ug mama, sa atong walay kaundangang mga pangutana. Katong bata pa ta kanunay ra ta ug dula buntag, udto way undang hantud magabii. Mao ra jud ni ang kalipay karon sa mga bata nga ilang bahanding kasinatian sa kinabuhi. Karon nakahinumdum ka pa ba sa mga kasinatian sa kaniadtong ikaw ay inosente pa? Kalami balikan ang mga adlaw nga layo ka sa mga problema hinaot pa unta mabalikan pa na to ang ing-atong orasa. I can still remember the times when I was free, like a bird in the sky without any problems. Those times we only thought of happiness, those times we only cared for playing. When we were still young we asked many questions, we were innocent from the things in this world. Sometimes Mom and Dad get mad because of the unending questions we have in mind. When we were still kids we always play, morning, noon, night – it only ends when we sleep. That’s the only thing that made us happy. These are experiences we will always treasure. Now, can you still remember the experiences you had, From the times when you were still innocent? It’s nice to turn back time, not thinking about any problems in life and I wish that we can still experience those innocent days we had.


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Naigo sa Bala by Rogin Christ Eribal

Wala nay lain pa’ng makapalipay kay Lula nga sige’g pamaypay, kung dili ang iyang tanum nga anaa didto sa ilalum.

There is nothing else that can make her happy, my grandma who fans herself unceasingly, other than her plants found downstairs in want.

Wala nay lain pa’ng buntag ang mulabay nga si Lula dili maghilak samtang naghikay. Abi nimug kinsa sa pamilya ang namatay ang iya ra diay’ng tanum nga dili na mukapaykapay

No morning ceases to pass by that grandma, while cooking, will not cry as if someone in the family has passed away. It is just her plant will no longer sway.

Wala na ‘koy lain pa’ng mahimo kay Lula nga puno sa kasubo. Tanan na ang akong gihimo, nadaot na gani pati ang kabo Wala gyud koy lain pa’ng nahuna-huna, kaihion na gyud ko atong panahuna. Pagpugong sa pantog wala na nakaya, gahinam-hinam na man gud ko mutira. Mga anay, sila akong paborito di gihapon papildi bisag naligo na’g asido. Pero wa ko ning-undang nagpadayon gihapon ko, naglaum makapildi maayo nalang bisag tulo. Hay! Pasinsya nalang gyod kang Lula ug sa iyang tanum nga nipahuway na’g una. Sige ra diay’g kaigo wa damha sa among gubat matag hapon huma’g siesta.

There is nothing else I can do nor declare for Grandma who is wrapped in despair. I did my best, tried everything, worse yet is the dipper breaking. There is no other thing left imaginable, my pee at the time, I could no longer control. My bladder then could no longer hold, I wanted release, so the bullets rolled. Like termites, they are my favorite they don’t give up, even when bathed in acid. But I never did stop, I freed the pee hoping to defeat at least even three. Oh! My apologies, Grandma dear For the plant whose end was so near we never meant for it to get sacrificially hit by our war games after siesta, and our trampling feet.


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Patta’Nakauna by Waho Madjilon

Landu’ ko kyamatahan in daan patta’ ha pagapaga. Dimagpak pa pikilan in kabata’ jaman nakauna. Bang ko angan-anganun agun ko tuud hikasarsila, parakala’ bihaun iban kabata’ landu’ napinda. Amun ha awwal jaman kabata’ makusug pa dumagan, way pa agun pangirab ha mga makina sin Milikan. Paghulin, taguri iban tira mital in katagihan. Maghakhak, magkaginisan muwi’ bay gyugutas in tiyan. Bihaun ini najawjana’ dayang in mga pikilan. Hanggatus tabiya’ ha mga kabataan kaibanan. Nahaylan ha Facebook iban DoTA atas na di’ kaunan. Gampa kami way nakapamaham mas mabuntul damayan. Amun ha jaman kabata’ in utuk way pa hiluhala’. Magpanayam, kumaun iban magbissara way bidda’ papissukun, atasan magtug-tug di’ na magtuna’-tuna’ di’ na misan magtali sin susungun bang unu na baha’. Bihaun kasubul in pikilan landu’ nagkasusahan. Ha iskul mamikilan tanda’ suwara in pangabutan. Sabab daak hi ma’am dayang pagpissuk di’ na kaingatan. Halawm angan-angan bang pagtammat da ba in kadagpakan. Miyula-mula in mata ampa dayang timu’ in luha’. Iyagpangan tuud sin lima sa’ dimagpak da pa lupa’.

Sa’ nagsusun na ba sadja sabab hangin na in kabata’. Wayruun na mahinang ta sa’ dayang taykuran in patta’. I see the old photo on the shelf and I thought about my childhood days before If I really think about it, I realize that today and my yesteryears really have changed. During childhood I could run so fast, I didn’t think much of the Americans and their machines. I played with marbles, my kite, and threw stones at cans. I laughed, tried everything, and then went home hungry. Today our minds are too sad and dark. I mean no offense or to generalize the youth. But most of us succumb to Facebook and DoTA and no longer eat. If we’ve never learned, we would have known the truth. During childhoAod, the mind knew no problems. Just play, eat, speak anything and everything And when asked to sleep, we sometimes just pretended to do so and we never cared for what could happen in the future. Today in adolescence, I’m really in despair. In school, I think, but it’s the language I struggle with because of the orders of my teacher dear, I don’t even know what sleep is anymore. and sometimes I worry if I’ll be able to graduate. My eyes turn red and suddenly tears fall. I try to stop them with my hands but still they fall to the ground. I just long for my childhood, but it’s gone with the wind and I can’t do anything anymore but to let go of the photo.


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Su Rin Gembata Ita Pa (Sa Aking Pagkabata) by Vir Ian Jun Guzon

Tu hesyag nu gendaw muha tu helyawa nu bulan su nga gembata pedlelyag medlemet dleligeteray. Hena tenan mibetang tu dyanlan pihilan su meset nawan malap ran. Rin dyangha siselem hedlemet ilan tetimbahay maantu ra rema su hedlemet nilan balay-balay ba hyandan petenggin pesibaay mita tu nga mata ran su gebagel dlelyag metunay. Muha maantu mateng su dyangha gebi memedlemet ilan gegedluray tu dibalay bengawan, geywan muha rin dyalem mesyag bulan. Su sebad pemekineg nu nga guhiten mahaseselebu Pigenat tu nga mahatau getaw nu dyanlan hetubo. Tu dyanlaan hedlemet dlelayon melingawan ran su nga gbinyasan na patot gulehen has dun dyangha mesetan hilan hagina mipun tu nga pendayan gendi lan sunan. Ugaid tu dlyu nu gendi ran sunan, tu nga gbinyasan binal na dunya, migusay ini mita tu nga gembata mihabegay gembagel dlelyag tu hetubo nilan.

O, Diwata nu helelat pengumpyanay mu su nga gembata dlyu tu nga gbinyasan gendi ran sunan. Dari pulo mebagel ilan meseba su hebetang nilan dahus mebal ilan poretengen tu benwa nilan nawan.

Sa pagsikat ng araw o paglabas ng buwan ang mga munting bata ay masayang naghahabulan. Hindi alintana sa kanilang paglalaro ang mga sakit na maaaring matamo. Sa umaga’y naglalaro ng baril-barilan at kung minsan ay bahay-bahayan. Kung sila ay iyong pagmasdan at pagtuunan, makikita sa mata ang matinding kasiyahan. At sa gabi naman ay masayang nagtataguan sa pintuan, kahuyan at sa ilalim ng buwan masayang nakikinig sa kwentong kababalaghan na likha na rin sa kanilang kainosentehan. Ngunit sa kabila ng kanilang kainosentehan, sa mga bagay na likha ng sanlibutan, ito’y hindi alintana sa kanilang paglalaro bagkus ito ay nagdudulot ng matinding kasiyahan. O, Diyos na mahabagin at maunawain, mga batang musmos iyong pagpalain nawa’y gabayan sa kanilang kainosentehan upang lumaking ligtas ang pag-asa ng bayan.


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Childhood: When Innocence

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P R O S E


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Thank You for Fairy Tales by Jobelle Kristine de Leon

“And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Mommy smiles at me as she closes the book while still sitting on the left side of my bed. She has been reading my favourite fairytales as she always does before I go to sleep. Her fingers run across my temple, fixing my curly hair. She gently lays a kiss on my forehead and then looks at me and being an eight year old, I begin to speak my curiosity. “Mommy, can I be different princesses at one time? Will I meet my prince at a ball, too?” “You already are a princess to us, darling. You are wonderful the way you are. Yes, your prince will come but that will take a longer while,” another smile from this sweet mommy of mine. “Now you have to sleep so that you will not be late for school tomorrow.” She rises up from the bed, fixing my blanket and pillow so that I will sleep comfortably.

“Okay mommy. But I’m thirsty; can I have a glass of water, please?”

“Alright. I’ll be right back, my princess.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

I can see mommy smiling as she closes the door. Gazing at the door, I wait for mommy and it seems like hours. Impatiently, I head for the door and open it only to find a place so magical that I’ve never seen before. There before me is what seems like a Candy Jungle - filling the place with different goodies, blinding my eyes with shades of pastel colours of pink, blue, yellow, green and a lot more. The blue sky is filled with cotton candy clouds; the sun is sunflower-shaped; trees are made of gummy worms and mint gums with different kinds of fruits; the grass is like milk chocolate that dances with the wind; the rocks are toffee and caramel candy balls; different-coloured marshmallows are shaped as flowers; cracker-made butterflies are flying and finally- the big waterfall of chocolate! It was a sight to see! Still amused, I noticed an old man with a wooden-made boy doll. While approaching, the doll suddenly spoke.

Hello!” Surprised, I looked at the old man who laughs at my amusement.


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“Have you seen my mommy?” I asked the doll.

“No.” Suddenly, the nose of the wooden boy grew longer than it was.

“You lied again.” said the old man. “She went that way.” He pointed towards a big peanut-shaped rock with a little golden caramel door. When I turned to say my thanks, they were gone as if they vanished through thin air. I went towards the door and wondered how I will be able to enter such a small door that even my head won’t fit in. Then I noticed a small chocolate bar with a note that says, ‘Eat me’ and did so. Suddenly the jungle began to grow huge and tall that it seems the cotton candy clouds zoomed out. Even my pajamas grew big! Blinding my sight with the cloth, that is when I realized, I shrunk. Afraid, I entered the golden door and escaped. I saw a different world yet again but this time, it was a normal jungle, with normal trees, bright sunshine and there was a hare in his tuxedo running towards me. He looked at his clock and became terrified. “Oh my! We’re late! We have to hurry to the ball. Come!” Pulling my left hand, he suddenly paused. Looking at me closely he said, “Oh no, you have to wear something better! I’ll call somebody to fix you.” He waved in the air and a fairy came. She was the cutest fairy I’ve ever seen! She wore a green dress that is above her knee, updo blonde hairstyle and a white shoe with a furry ball on each and golden dusts fall from her silver-like wings. I can only hear her tinkle and as she pushed her golden dust towards me, the dust circle around me and poof! I wore the most beautiful blue ball gown I’ve ever seen! I also have glass slippers on my feet! “You must remember that we only have until midnight! Let’s go!” says the hare as a magic lamp appeared from thin air and he rubs it and a genie appeared! The hare asked the genie to grant us a wish: transportation. In an instant, he gave us a magic carpet! Passing along with the clouds, we fly around the jungle and finally arrived at the hugest castle I’ve ever seen! It was filled with different kinds of jewels and diamonds, blinding my eyes with its every twinkle. The hare hurriedly runs towards the entrance, leaving me behind the garden filled with red-painted white roses.

“Would you care for a dance?”

I saw the ugliest beast I’ve ever seen! Afraid, I started to run, looking for a place to hide in the garden as I can still feel the beast’s presence behind me. When there was none, I saw a mirror and looked at it as the reflection of the beast revealed the most handsome prince I’ve ever seen! I decided to face him and befriend him. We danced the whole night, circling around, having fun. We also looked at the night stars at the balcony and he showed me a glass with a rose inside of it. I was about to touch the glass when suddenly, the great grandfather clock began to chime and the world before me started to crumble as if there’s an earthquake. When my beastly prince faded, I remember not knowing what to do. Suddenly, there was a shout outside the castle. “Let down your golden hair!” Magically, my hair grew into a long golden one and I threw it outside the balcony and began to climb down, leaving a pair of my glass slippers behind. When I reached the ground there was only darkness.


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Suddenly, the sky began to light up and I saw that I am in the jungle again. I wore a red hood and I am carrying a basket filled with newly baked muffins and a letter that says I have to deliver it to my mommy somewhere inside the jungle. It also says that I have to be aware of the big bad wolf. So that I won’t lose track, I got one muffin and threw crumbs of it, leaving a trail. Suddenly there was a howl; it was the big bad wolf! I planned to go back to where I was but then my bread crumb trail was gone because the birds ate it along the way. The howl began to grow louder and I can hear fast footsteps behind me. Afraid, I ran as fast as I could, not knowing as to where I was heading. Fortunately, I saw a small house and entered it and no longer heard the howling sound. Such a small house that my head reached its roof! It was so dirty that I decided to clean it up, as a gift for the owner for letting me trespass. Suddenly my eyes grew heavy and I began to tire so I went to the room and found seven small beds, each has its own name: Sneezy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Bashful, Doc, and Dopey. The beds were so small that I have to join seven of them so that I could fit and sleep comfortably. When I woke up, I was in a castle. In front of me were a fireplace and a big mirror on the wall and a spindle on the balcony. I looked at the mirror and a mask appeared. “Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who’s the fairest of them all?” I asked. But the mask hid, I can only see my reflection. I went for the spindle and accidentally pricked my finger and began to feel dizzy and sleepy. Suddenly there appeared three fairies each with names on their wands. The one in a pink outfit was named Flora; the green one was Fauna and the blue one was Merryweather. They told me that I am going to sleep for a very long time and only a true love’s kiss will wake me up. Then they circled around the air, with pink, blue and green dusts falling from their wands and I can see the world before me sleeping. When I cannot fight the drowsiness anymore, I slept. ----- “Then what happened mom?” I looked at the curious eyes of this little angel, cuddled and cozy in my arms.

“Mom woke up. It was a dream, Angel.”

It has been a few hours since I was reading the favourite fairytales of my little girl, Angel. She grew bored in the middle of it and insisted she wants something more adventurous and so I humoured her.

“Then where’s grandmother when you woke up? Who kissed you?”

“Grandma was the one who gave me a true love’s kiss, here on mom’s forehead” pointing to it, Angel wouldn’t look away from me. “and that’s what I’m about to do now, too” I gently laid a kiss on this daughter of mine. “Then mom you were able to be different princesses at one time!” she said as she eagerly sits on the bed. “and not only that! You were able to have wonderful adventures!” then she hugged me gladly.

“Yes, but it was only when mom dreamt of it.”


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“Maybe I can be one too!” as she let go of her hug and hurriedly arranged her pillow and blanket. “I’m going to sleep now mom, good night.” “All right, my princess. Good night.” I laid another kiss, turned off the light and was about to close the door when she sat on her bed again.

“Wait mom, I’m thirsty, can you bring me a glass of water, please?”

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

As I closed the door behind me, with the feeling of déjà vu, I was reminded of my own childhood fairytales and the dream I had. Such memories, what bliss! I was thankful for those tales because without it, I won’t be able to imagine things, dream of faraway places, and to distinguish fantasy from reality. Now I can share stories with my very own princess too. I was able to be not only a princess but a queen as I am now a mother of one, living happily ever after.


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Jaren

by Jennifer Ray Tibayan

“Jaren, Jaren? Bene anay aqui adentro,” ya llama si Manang Jackie con su anak, si Jaren, quien callao ta jugá apuera del casa. Si Jaren hay un once años bata que gordito y tiene grande lunar na medio de su frente. El su ojos ay bien negro y redondo y ta replica con ojos de Bombay.

“Mang? Tiene ya tambien ustedes cosa manda con migo?”

Ya atraca si Jaren con su nana gorda y quere-quere usa ropa tiene rosas na tela. Pirmi amarao el pelo di Manang Jackie y tiene tattoo del imagen de un azul aguila na su izquierda brazo. No hay mas marido si Manang Jackie; ya deja conele su marido cuando priñada le con Jaren. Ya manda ele compra con Jaren un kilo de azucar. “No mas tanto tarda na tienda Jaren, cay ta coci yo aqui saging laga. No mas ya pasa donde-donde y no mas compra cosacosa.” “Si, mang!” Bien corre ya sale si Jaren estaba casa llevando con el sen ya dale su nana. Cuando ya prinsipia ele camina, ya prinsipia tambien canta si Jaren con el cancion PicoPico.

“Pico-pico gorgorito, sera puerta, cojido! Pico-pico gorgorito, sera puerta, cojido!”

Alegre ta camina si Jaren andada tienda, cuando ya llama conele si Manong Boy y ta pidi ayuda alsa con el cuña del su apo. No hay mas man dos-dos el pensamiento de Jaren y ya carga ele dayun con el cuña que mas grande pa na de su cuerpo. Ya lleva con el cuña adentro casa onde ta juga el un diutay bata mujer.

“Gracias, noy!”

Wew! Ta sinti yo kay bien mapuersa gayod iyo ahora. Ya puede habla si Jaren na su cuerpo. Ya continua camina si Jaren para na tienda cuando ya pasa ele na grupo de tres jovenes ta juga tumbahan lata. Ya atraca si Jaren con el maga bata. El un bata hombre ay egual grandor de Jaren y con largo pelo. El su cara tiene buling que ya deja el negro tsinelas ta agara le. El un bata hombre, flaco y diutay. Singkit el su ojos y blancisco su pellejo. No


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hay mas ele pelo kay pirmi ta tiene herida el su cabeza. El un bata hombre hay gordito tambien y bien moreno. Alto su frente y tiene ele pirmi ta aguanta paño. “Nya Jaren! Bene aqui y juga kita!” Ya grita el gordito bata cuando ya mira con Jaren. Bien corre si Jaren para na tres bata y ya prinsipia ele juga uban con el tres. Ya aguanta si Jaren con el negro tsinelas y ya buta ele para na lata. No hay tumba el lata cuando ya tira si Jaren con el tsinelas. Ya deja le con el su maga amigo, poreso ya tenta con ele boro na juego. Ya bira si Jaren y ya buta piedra con su maga amigo y bien corre ya sale na lugar. Ya llega si Jaren na tienda onde ele puede compra con el azucar. Ya dale conele el un kilo azucar y diez peso cambio na sen. Cuando ya recivi ele el cambio, ya compra ele un ice candy y cinco Supercrunch. Quere-quere si Jaren camina y pisa el granos de arena poreso ay hinde mas ele ta usa su tsinelas. Hinay-hinay ele ta camina para na de ila casa cuando ya puede ele sinta na costao del camino por causa na cansancia. “Bien vale el maga color de motor ta pasa. Si queda yo grande, maneja tambien yo grande grande maga motor y hace iyo corre el mi manejada.” Tan cuento solo-solo si Jaren mientras tanto ta come. “Ay yo bien cansao ya!” Ya camina ele para na rio. Hinay el corrientaso del agua y este bien limpio. No hay pa un minuto, ya salta ele na rio y ya nada que nada. Bien alegre si Jaren brinca otra vez hasta ele mas ya cansa.

“Jaren? Jaren? Desperta ya! Habla yo no mas ya pasa donde donde.”

Ya hace desperta si Manang Jackie con Jaren quien bien acostao y dormido na camino onde ele ya sinta.

“Ay mang! Bien mucho yo cosa ya suña. Taqui ya tu azucar mang.”


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Once Upon A Time

by Heidelyn Tan and Xavier Agraviador

“It’s almost bedtime, so I’m going to tell you a story.”

The little girl looked up as the woman entered the room holding a large leather bound book on one hand and a velvet colored box in the other. The young girl stopped playing with the dolls scattered about the room and went to sit on the couch upon the woman’s instruction. “I’m sorry that took a while. Here’s something to make up for it,” the woman said. She sat on a chair that was situated across the girl and placed the box on the table beside them. She opened it to reveal several pieces of chocolate. With the woman’s permission, the little girl began popping the chocolates into her mouth one by one. She only stopped to ask if the story was a fairytale with magical kingdoms and princesses.

She chuckled and said maybe. The girl then asked if it had love.

“Why, yes.” The woman replied. “It’s not really a fairy tale without that, hmm?”

The little girl nodded and the woman patted the book. “Well, shall we start?”

She gave a shy smile and nodded once more.

The woman then opened the book and began to read.

Once Upon a Time... a young princess was going back home.

She chose the route of red stars, which took her beyond the gates of the kingdom next to hers. At its center was the palace of rulers, and the princess wandered into its luxurious lounge. There she saw the queen of the kingdom known as the Doll Maker. The Doll Maker sat precariously on the edge of the velvet sofa. She was stitching her newest doll. Its eyes were blue like the ocean, with really white skin and dark hair. The princess didn’t like the clothes, they looked wrinkled and stiff. When the princess approached her she told her the doll wasn’t finished and she hadn’t made the right clothes for it yet.


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She stopped painting the dolls lips and smiled at the princess. The princess was sniffling and hugging to her chest the rag doll she got for Christmas last year. The Doll Maker approached her and asked what was wrong. The princess whispered, “Mary.” Mary was the princess’ playmate upstairs. The princess told her she was upset that Mary kept winning in their staring contests; Mary was too good because her eyes never close. Mary also didn’t want to play anything else even though the princess kept telling her that there were other fun games. She didn’t listen and just stayed silent even when the princess got mad and started screaming at her. After the princess told her this, the Doll Maker went with her upstairs to Mary’s room. The princess always hated Mary’s room. The room was perfumed so much with different sweet fragrances that the aroma was tangible and nauseating. There was one weird smell besides the sweet ones, but Mary never answered when asked about it. Mary never answered any questions. When the queen and the princess got there, the Doll Maker started scolding Mary, whose head bowed down in contrition. The princess imagined that Mary was crying in her room, serves her right. The Doll maker said she was sorry for Mary’s behavior and that Mary had always been a good child. She must have been jealous of the princess. The princess told her she didn’t want to play with Mary ever again. The Doll Maker said okay, she wouldn’t have to. The princess remembered the doll and told the queen that she thought it was pretty. The Doll Maker smiled and said that the doll was new. A bonsai tree with wings flew in and rang a bell. The Doll Maker said she had to go to the garden to harvest the moons she planted. She reminded the girl not to touch it while it wasn’t finished. The princess hurried downstairs, clutching her rag doll tight, and stood in front of the unfinished doll. Her blue eyes stared back blankly. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she thought her nose picked up a particular scent similar to the weird smell up in Mary’s room. The doll’s blue eyes seemed to glisten, as if it was about to cry despite its permanent smile. The Doll Maker held a sword in her hand and in an instant, though she could not remember the details all that clearly anymore, the Doll Maker was removing things that twisted and pulsed from the dolls chest. When the princess inquired about it, the Doll Maker told the child that she was removing monsters from the doll and not to worry because she’s done this a million times. She then said it was dangerous for the princess to stay inside, so she ushered her out and the princess waited silently in the living room. When the princess turned she saw the Doll Maker had returned, wiping off dirt from her hands with a furry towel. She told the girl not to stand near the doors or windows, Mommy might catch them. A couple of days ago she told the princess that mommy wanted to play hide and seek and that it was her job to hide her. It’s been a long while since Mommy’s seen the princess. That means Mommy’s definitely losing the game. The princess can’t imagine her face when she’ll laugh at how bad Mommy was at hide and seek.


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The Doll Maker said she had let loose all the moons she had planted for the sun to hide and for the night to begin. The sky was pitch-black; the shadows danced as candle-lit chariots pulled by trotting horses sped past the dirt paths outside the princess’ lonely window. The Doll Maker had finished the pretty doll and it was in the princess’ arms as she lay in her soft bed made of cotton balls. The doll felt warm for some odd reason, but she hugged it tight. She was scared of the monsters creeping in the corners at night. She could hear them sometimes, screaming, almost as if they were in pain. But she didn’t worry too much. The Doll Maker would always protect her. She would just be in the other room. The timid princess could hear the shuffle of the queen’s footsteps through the thin walls. The princess peered through the keyhole of her bedroom once at night and saw her figure in the dimly lit area inside. The Doll Maker stayed awake past midnight, working on more of her dolls on a table, replacing the stuffing. While she was pulling the stuffing from one doll, the table rocked, making the dolls look like they were squirming. The princess felt safe because she stayed awake late at night, just right next to her room. As she lay in bed, she squeezed the doll tight as her eyes got heavier. She felt something cold drip down the length of her arm. It was hard to see through the dark but water was dripping out one of the doll’s ears. It looked like thick red syrup. Right then a loud ringing noise erupted outside the house, along with flashes of red and blue stars. The Doll Maker broke into the princess’ room, her face twisted in horror. She whispered harshly that the bad people came to get her. She dragged the princess down the flight of steps and into the kitchen where she pulled out a sword from the drawers. The two made their way out the back door… then a flurry of firecrackers made the princess cover her ears and shut her eyes. When the princess opened them, the Doll Maker was lying on the back porch, fast asleep. A number of huge blue men took the princess into their arms and carried her to the front terrace. The princess cried out when she saw Mommy. Mommy hugged the little girl tight and she laughed at her. The princess told mommy that she was so bad at hide and seek. She felt guilty afterwards because Mommy cried so much. As the blue men carried her to a red car, the princess pointed at the Doll Maker and told Mommy she helped her find a good hiding spot. After the red chariot pulled away and disappeared into the night. Mommy was angry at her. She probably thought the princess cheated because she had help. The only reminder the princess had of the Doll Maker was the last doll she had made, the one with red syrup dripping from its ear. ______________________________________________________________ “What happened to the Doll Maker?” The little girl’s curious voice cut the woman off mid-sentence. “When she was released, she sealed herself up in a tower and made a witch cast a spell to make her go into a deep sleep from which was never to awaken.” The woman replied.


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She frowned. “Won’t a prince charming come to kiss her awake?”

The woman shook her head. “She didn’t have a prince charming.”

“Why? That’s really sad...” The girl trailed off and then developed a thought. “Let’s go be her prince charming then.” To her confusion, the older lady just laughed for a while and once she was done she shook her head. “That’s hard. They already sealed her in a box. But don’t worry, she’s safer there.”

The little girl considered it. “Isn’t it cramped and dark?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, I should think so. But then you don’t really feel much when you’re asleep.” To that, the girl agreed and she told the woman that her mother once told her that she slept so soundly that not even the dogs barking could wake her up. The woman remarked that the girl must have had a nice family. She said her mom and dad scolded her a lot, but she did well with her grades and didn’t break any rules. “Did your parents never tell you not to go with strangers?” The woman inquired and the little girl replied that her parents told her not to go with strange people. The former then asked if she didn’t seem strange when she offered to take the girl away for a bit merely hours before.

“You don’t look strange, you look pretty.” The girl answered.

The woman thanked her and said that they should continue.

“Only a while longer and you will go to sleep.”

The years passed and the princess had grown up. Both her parents had passed away; they had disappeared one night after they left to fight off the trolls in the dark forest. But it’s been years and the princess has moved on and has matured into a fine lady. In fact, she had made two life-size dolls of her parents to remind her of their love for their daughter. The princess had married a prince and was now the queen of her kingdom. Soon, a princess joined the royal family. Over the years, the kingdom had begun crumbling and falling into disorder. Desperate, the king sent out centaur messengers across the land to bring news of the princess’ coming of age and to know who are worthy enough to take her hand in marriage. The combined riches of the families would uplift the sorrowful times of the kingdom. While the king did this, the queen had her own plans. The queen wanted to rebuild her own kingdom. A faint memory from her past inspired her to build a kingdom of dolls. And she did. With the help of her fairy servants, she began making hundreds of dolls to inhabit her new kingdom. All these dolls were fashioned


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from the young women of the land. The princess caught on to the queen’s plans and asked why she would do such a thing? The queen merely smiled and said the dolls would obey no matter what. The kingdom would always be at peace. The queen approached the little girl. She decreed the kingdom of dolls would not be hers to rule, but it would be under the care of the princess.

The princess was taken aback. She complained it wasn’t her rightful place.

The queen said she was sure the princess’ father wouldn’t mind. The queen added that the princess’ father would even be proud of her. Weeks later, the king had found a number of worthy suitors for the princess upon the return of the centaurs. He looked around but the little girl was nowhere to be found. It was until he discovered the hidden kingdom of dolls that he began looking at his wife accusingly. The kingdom was a huge field littered with dolls having tea, lying in custom beds or just sitting blankly in short stools. In the middle of the field was a gazebo where the queen sipped tea, the fairy servants fluttering overhead, serving her croissants and fanning her from the heat of the day. She was embracing a doll clad in a long gown, gold threads intricately sown into the fabric in complicated patterns, sparkling beautifully under the light.

The king demanded to know where the princess was.

here.”

The queen pulled out the biggest smile, baring all her teeth. “Why, she’s right

The little girl’s head was drooping as she struggled to stay awake.

The woman laughed and told her that she must be sleepy and that they should really get ready for bed soon. The girl protested, saying that she didn’t hear the story’s happy ever after yet. She told the child not to worry since the story is over, or, she adds with amusement that the latter could not understand, that the story was never-ending. Then they both heard loud noises from outside. The girl thought that they sounded like the scream of sirens. The woman had a look on her face that the girl had never seen before. She suddenly stood up and ran into the kitchen. While she did so, she closed the lights of every room and beckoned the girl to follow her. The little girl hesitated before following after her. She was no longer sleepy. The lights were closed inside the room, but the girl saw the woman pull something shiny and glittering from one of the drawers. “ Are you going to fight the sirens?” The little girl asked and pointed at the object she was holding. “With that sword?” She couldn’t see the woman’s expression in the


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darkness, but she said; “Yes, I will. But I need your help. I need you to come with me, no don’t be afraid, you only need to close your eyes the moment we set foot outside and I’ll do the rest, understand?” She nodded and then loud knocking was heard at the front door, followed by the voices. They are monsters, said the woman, they are with the sirens so pay no heed to them. The woman ushered her outside the kitchen door and they were at the backyard and the little girl instantly closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the sirens, but knew that the woman would protect her from them. She felt something cold next to her neck, but said nothing. The woman started shouting and the people were yelling too. This went on for a long while and when the feeling of coldness left her neck, the little girl couldn’t help but open her eyes and look up. The first thing she saw was red, something sticky like syrup, poured all over her face from above. The woman’s hold on her loosened and she heard people shouting and footsteps approaching. The little girl wiped the red syrup from her face and saw the woman sprawled over the green grass, her neck and the sword covered in red syrup too. The little girl saw men and women wearing blue approach her and the woman. She asked them if they were knights and if they came to help her and the woman. She said that they were too late and that the woman was so tired from defeating all the sirens and monsters that she fell asleep. They looked at each other and then back to her. One of the blue knights knelt down next to her and wiped her face with a cloth. Wizards in white arrived soon and turned the woman into a large green pea with their magic and carried her away on their white car. The little girl in return was placed inside another car with red and blue flashing lights on top that made her eyes hurt whenever they blinked. They asked her all sorts of questions; where did the woman pick her up? She was walking along the road to her house when the woman drove in a black car and offered her milk, cookies and a story; did she know the woman personally? No, the little girl did not but she thought the woman was nice and that she hoped the woman would tell her more bedtime stories sometime. As they drove away, the little girl’s eyes closed and she dozed off into a dream. In her dream she was in a kingdom and the Doll Maker and the woman were welcoming her at the gates with their hands outstretched.

She smiled and took their hands.

Fin


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Sampaguita

by Putli Monaira Amilbangsa

Hindi naman siya naiiba sa ibang mga bata. Masiglahin, laging gutom sa kasiyahan, at naglalaro sa ilalim ng araw. Kung minsa’y mabait na anghel, ngunit may mga panahon na siya’y hindi mapalagay sa isang sulok. Isa siya sa mga dahilan kung bakit biglang may isang ngiting sisilay sa iyong mukha. Sampaguita. Kay ganda ng kanyang pangalan. Maputi, mahalimuyak, at dalisay. Mga bata nga naman, napakainosente sa buhay. Limang beses sa isang linggo ay magkukulitan sila ng kanyang ina. Pipilitin siyang gumising nang maaga at pumasok sa paaralan. Ayos lang naman na magtiis na makulong sa silid-aralan niya, dahil tuwing Sabado at Linggo naman ay dinadala siya sa parke kung saan magkikita-kita sila ng mga kalaro niya. Masaya ang kanyang buhay. Lagi siyang paborito ng mga nakakahalubilo niya. Siya ang prinsesa sa kanilang pamilya. Ngunit hindi niya maintindihan kung bakit linggolinggo naman siyang dinadala sa isang puting kastilyo. Malinis ito, at may napakaraming nakaputing tao. “Ma, bakit ba tayo pumupunta dito?,” tanong niya sa inang abala sa pagbitbit ng kanyang bag. “Eh, anak. Bibisitahin lang natin si Doc. Alam mo na, para bigyan ka ng kendi diba? Paborito mo naman yun.” hindi mapakaling sagot ng kanyang ina. “Ah, si Doc! Yung mabait na lalaki na may masarap na kendi,” nangingiting sambit niya. Inaalala niya ang masarap na kendi na binibigay sa kanya pagkatapos painumin ng mapait na likido. Naiinis siya kapag dinadaan siya sa mga malalaking aparato na may maiingay na tunog at nakasisilaw na ilaw. Ayaw niya rin sa mga tinuturok sa kanyang parang bolpen na may tubig. Pero pagkatapos naman iyon ay may tatlong supot ng kendi naman siya, kaya tinitiis niya na lang ang pagdadaanan. Ibinibili siya ng mga magagandang laruan ng kanyang ama. Ngunit taka naman niya kung bakit hindi nila kasama ito sa bahay. Dalawa lang rin sa kanyang mga kapatid ang kasama niya sa bahay, ang isa ay kasama ng kanyang ama. Tuwing kaarawan niya lang ay nakakasama niya nang matagal ang kanyang ama at kapatid. Sa pasko naman ay


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pinapadalhan lang sila ng mga regalo. Habang pinaglalaruan niya ang bagong biling manika ay napansin niyang umiiyak ang ina sa kanyang silid. “Ma, bakit ka umiiyak?,” tinakpan ng maliliit niyang mga kamay ang basang mukha ng ina.

“Mahal kasi kita.” Tangi niyang sagot at saka niyakap nang mahigpit ang bata.

Nagpatuloy ang masayang buhay ng bata. Minsan ay nakararamdam ng panghihina, ngunit hinidi naman alintala iyon. Isang gabi ay bigla na lang nagising sa pagtulog ang bata. Tila ay lumulutang siya sa kanyang kama. Nagulat siya nang makita ang kanyang sarili na mahimbing na natutulog. Sa gilid ng kanyang katawan ay ang pamilya. Masaya siya na makitang buo ang kanyang pamilya. Si Mama, si Papa, Ate, Kuya, lahat sila nandito! Yehey! Napadaing siya sa tuwa. May biglang lumitaw na ilaw sa kanyang harapan at may biglang lumabas na lalaki. “Sampaguita, halika. Isasama na kita sa kastilyo mo kung saan lahat ay masaya. Hinihintay ka na ng iyong mga kalaro doon.” lumiliwanag ang kamay na inilahad ng lalaki. Lumiliwanag ang buong katawan niya! Nakangiting kumapit ang bata sa kamay ng lalaki at sabay silang nagliwanag. Tinalikuran na nila ang mga naiwang tao at tumuloy na sa puting ilaw. Hindi na nakita ng bata ang mga malungkot at lumuluhang mukha na kanyang tinalikuran.


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Dula Ra Ang Nasa Huna-huna by Friend Hayzer Gregorio

Anak! Tulog Sa! Mao kini ang gina-istorya sa akong inahan katong bata pa ko pag mu-untop na ang ala una sa hapon. Matulog sa daw ko usa magdula. Ginakantahan ko niya ug ‘dandansoy’ para makatulog. Ginasiguro sa akong inahan nga ako nagpiyong na, usa siya mupiyong sad. Wala siya kahibalo nga ako diay kay ga tulog-tulog ra. Pag makadungog nako sa iyang hagok maghinay-hinay nako ug sibat sa kama. Mudagan na dayon ko sa silingan ug magdula nami ug ‘tagu-taguan’. “Ikaw ang abal!” saybit sa akong amiga. Iyahanay na ug tago. Ang uban sa punuan sa kahoy ug ang uban muuli sa ilang balay para muinom ug tubig. Pagkapuyan nami ug tago, lahi napud ang dulaon. Patintero. Labayanay ug tsinelas. Luthang. Balay-balayan. Dakpanay. Pangutan-a mi ana, expert mi dirang dapita. Pagmutukar na ang paboritong sonata ni Manang Alona, mao kana nagpasabot nga alas tres na ug hapit na mumata akong inahan. Dali- dali dayon ug pauli, ilis ug sanina ug trapohan ang singot ug mubalik sa kama ug magpiyong-piyong nasab. Pagmata sa akong inahan, mudaritso dayon na siya sa kusina ug lutuan kog empanada ug timplahan ug kape. Pukawon ko para mag merienda. Paghuman ug kaon, sugtan na para magdula. Ginasundo ko sa akong mga barkada ug didto sa sapa mangaligo. Wala kahibalo ang among mga ginikanan. Pag uli nako sa among balay, abi sa akong inahan nga gipaningot ra ko. Trapohan dayon akong likod ug polbosan. Pag tingog sa bagtingan, mao kana nagpasabot nga ala sais na sa gabie. Magdagkot na ug kandila akong lola ug mangadyi nami kuyog akong mga barkada. Paghuman namo ug ampo, mangaon nami ug panihapon sa ilalom sa punoan sa manggahan. Kasadya nianang taknaa ug kahayag sad sa bulan. Maghimo dayon na ug lingin dapit sa kalsada akong mga barkada gamit ang tubig ug magdula mi ug bulan-bulan. Mas muhayag pa ang among dapit tungod sa petromax sa akong lola. Pag-abot ug alas diyes sa gabie, magsugod na dayon ang dinakpanay ug dinaganay sa among mga balay pakapinan pa ug Kanta nga, “Wala kabalos nanimahong ginamos”. Ang abal karong adlawa kay excited kayo mumata sa sunod nga buntag para makabalos sad siya. Pag ako matungnan nga abal, mag atang ko sa pwertahan sa akong mga amigo ug amiga pagkaugma para makabalos.


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Mao kana ang dagan sa akong oras sa adlaw-adlaw nakong kinabuhi katong bata pa ko. Dula lang sige ang nasa huna-huna. Dili makabati ug kakapoy. Mao kini ang mga panahon nga dili mabangbang ang kalipay kay tungod tinuod ang akong nabati. Pero karon‌

Mamang! Gusto nako matulog!


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PHOTOGRAPHY


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WINNER 2014 PREMIOS MAREJADA

The winner of the 2014 Premios Marejada for Photography, Bianca Ellice Luistro triumphs in her choreography of innocence, and in the process creates a pictorial narrative of a childhood ideal, of bliss and freedom right before they are traded for wisdom, for life.

by Bianca Ellice Luistro


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by Kenneth Chuacon


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Crisis Lights

by Fazniyara Lukman


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by Lea Alessandra Lim


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by Dwight Anthony Yu


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The Climb

by Mark Phillip Ycaza


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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


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We are extending our gratitude to the following for their support:

Fr. Karel San Juan, SJ

President , Ateneo de Zamboanga University

Dr. Rebecca Fernandez Academic Vice President

Ms. Angela Baes

University Treasurer

Engr. Stevan Dimaguila

Director of Student Affairs

Dr. Robert Panaguiton

Dean of the School of Liberal Arts

Mr. Marion Guerrero

Communication Department Chair

Mr. Joylito Lahoylahoy Ms. Jamila Becca Daud Mr. Dominic Cabatit


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Editorial Board of The BEACON Publications

Editor in Chief: Trisha Ortega Associate Editor for SINAG: Pristine Janielle Padua Associate Editor for Reveille: Aseya Khadija Calo Internal Managing Editor: Irene Wahab External Managing Editor: John Xyrious Dela Cruz Creative Director: Bianca Alyana Zamora Features Editor: Franco Rivas Cananea News Feature Editor: Kent Kerby Bayona News Editor: Fathima Ahamed Kabeer Head Cartoonist: Ioneebel Garcia Head Photographer: Lea Alessandra Lim Deputy Internal Managing Editor: Ciara Mae Obillo Deputy External Managing Editor: Christine Therese Oboy Associate Features Editor: June Karlo Suan Associate News Features Editor: Christianne Dawn Sicat Associate News Editor: Fatima Mandangan Finance Officer: Arjay Jumawan Communications Officer: Jessanell Sevilla Physical Property and Maintenance Officer: Julius Elciario Layout Artists Dwight Anthony Yu, Ray Andrew Santiago, Jamie Catherine Go, Cartoonists Daniel Alted Nebrija, Patricia Denise Apolinario, Hazel Rosie Bayaras, Roderick Mendoza Jr., Christopher Tabula, Fahad Alfad Photographers Darrylene Clemente, Yves Xaviery Valerio, Ivan Emmanuel Bokingkito, Ryan Covarrubias, Mark Philip Ycaza Writers Keith Joshua Dumpit, Ella Janelle Galea, Loren Marie Justo, Neilson Nick Alinsangan, Amira Solaiman, Mia Carrro Falcasantos, Almyrah Anudin, Aeon Rhys Abad, Jorace Martini Dayrit, John Dexter Canda, Leonette Anne Sadioa, Gillian Rome Manalo, Merzsam Singkee, Al-ameen Asmad, Mark Joshua Macaso, Therese Margarette Duterte, Ivon Macapla, Dave Cervas Moderator Mr. Marion B. Guerrero


Childhood: When Innocence

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Childhood: When Innocence

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