S
ambinhi ‘07
The Official Literary Folio of the Louisian Courier
Cover Photo by islaw
07 Sambinhi/Seven
The Official Literary Folio of the Louisian Courier
Contents mirror 08 makata 09 among you, kc, anne, and bea 10 batas ng lansangan 11 short story 12 emotion overload 22 tatsulok 23
ladduk 24 last bout 25 dementia, disturbia 26 it is done 34 glutatayon 35 remind me 36
a true refuge 37 makinilya 38
Contents ultimatum 44 dilim 45 a poem made while staring at the stale blackboard, embossed by a teacher, spewing vapid idea of the yore 46 yin eyes 47 bee-thin 48 alarm clock 51
laconicus 52 abangers 53
fatal frame 54
er aft ason e n re foreword d o of he ings s to c n s path the bra les n ds he b rent wee a ro h, t iffe bet the stairway to heaven and the highway to f x o r birt to d ose i hell, or to build yourself a new one die. m e o us s a r. aft ead to ch i that extends to your own ascension- the e l Lif othe will end. ; e s greatest mysteries unfold at least by that the d fre ate rse u m i n o t much. Wonder after wonder; we live but we a r ul n c ou mo just won’t die. m co
The pre vio Sambin us compendiu ms of li hi, has opte terary p this issu ieces en e is no s d to describe title liv mall wa men fro y differe ing in differen d m its fo u t ways, n n t. the core dations to descr and to how o much w ibe the freedo to each f ideas, and us m e other ho a c of w we se ctuating throug an transcend, is e the es h o u r ta sence o f us ind lents reveal ividuall y.
Through our mediums cannot suffice to describe the vast universe that is life, at least this is enough to prove that if our lives were lines or curves, we are tangent at a common point. this is one of the biggest markets where you and your fellow readers and/or contributors meet; the hospital tho service hose in pain; a restaurant to give you pleasure or the podium where voices of the brave can be heard.
Welcome to our dimension. Let’s stop for a while and be well on this tiny block of pavement in our journey’s highway.
Mirror
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anselmo tablador
08
Nothing is weakness of fear i am, or do i still cast havoc upon thoughts? the mind, over hung bottles of midnight in eternity soul, dark and deep, amid carnage of ideas reflected self-image broken towards sanity questioned still, it made less sense. ________________ Senseless made it still, questioned sanity towards broken image; self reflected ideas of carnage amid deep and dark soul eternity in midnight of bottles hung-over mind... the thoughts upon havoc cast still i do. or am i? fear ofweakness is nothing.
Sa pagmulat ng aking mga mata, natanaw ko sa gawing silangan Isang lalaking may dalang pluma’t papel, taglay ang damdaming nag-uumapaw, sa mga wikang nais sambitin ng bibig ngunit taglay ang takot na pumipigil. Napaupo at napasandal sa isang puno, sa gitna ng bukirin, sa awit ng mga ibon kalangita’y bughaw at ang alapaap ay masaya, sa silahis ng araw, lahat ay maligaya, maliban sa kanya. Lilim ng puno’y pannanggalang sa init ng takot takot na siyang nagpapahina sa kalooban.
Makata Ives Arden
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Sa pamamagitan ng kanyang kaliwang kamay hinawakan ang pluma at inilapat sa papel. Nagsimulang umawit at sumayaw hinayaang awitin ang mga salita, na binigyang buhay nitong lalaki. Emosyong kumakawala sa sulok ng damdamin. Sa piling ng mga diwang buhay sa alaala, gumaan ang damdaming itinatago. Nabahiran ng ngiti ang mukhang nalulungkot, nawala ang takot na bumabalot, sa kanyang pagkatao at maghahatid sa kanya sa karimlan ng takot at karupukan.
Among you, KC, Anne, and Bea Alagad ni Doro
I’d pick you of course. Your waistline may be an ocean To Anne’s river, it is your smile that bode electric bolts through the ebbs and tides of my heart. Cheezy as Eden, but your smile is brighter than KC’s spotlight tailing her Throughout her life.
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Every strand of your hair, as it dances against
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the melodies of the winds, is one drumbeat of breath, like the tiptoes of the rain in summer’s music. Among you, Ferrari, Mercedez, and BMW, I’d choose you of course. They may have the skin of ivory, slicker than your olive skin, i’d love you still, for wheels are naught when without you i hitch my way to the moon.
Sa nakaririnding saliw ng musika, Karimlan ay nagkanlong sa gunita, Bungong inaklasan ng landas, Nag-aalab na apoy ang tumatagas. Dahas ang umakay, walang wakas. Katarungan sa lupa’y inagnas, Bawat kaluskos, tanging sigaw, Liwanag nama’y aking natanaw. Pagbangon sa kanyang himlayan, Katawaý gapos ng kasakiman, Gererong gamaý sa pakikipaglaban, Busabos ng sawing kapalaran. Isang katotohanang balintuna Sa maling pag-irog, ikaý mawawala. Mananatili sa rehas ng hinagpis, Habam buhay na maaawis.
Batas ng Lansangan Kliene Agbayani
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Taking Flight Liana Acuzar
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07 Dec 2008, 5:05 pm “ Excuse me ma’am, your handkerchief fell.” I looked up and came to see a pretty stewardess with a friendly smile. Her slender arm is held out, her hand clutching my hanky.
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“Thanks!” I managed a smile as I reached for it. She nodded, smiled, and sauntered away. I leaned casually back on my seat, trying to hide my smile from my seatmate who gave me a quizzical look as if trying to say that I’m terribly ill. Honestly, though, I haven’t been myself since I have stepped on this plane. My mind seems to be dazed with confusing thoughts. I have never felt so nervous and at the same time excited in my entire life. “We shall be landing on the Philippine shores in 10 minutes...” a voice boomed over the speaker.
On an impulse, I looked out of my window and feasted on the white clouds looming over the horizon. For a minute, I felt like I am stepping at the doors of heaven. How I wish I could just soar and touch the warmth of the clouds...how I wish. Then slowly, the clouds drifted away and revealed the view below.
My heart leapt. What was once a view of snow-capped mountains and pines has changed into lush and verdant valleys of green. “I’m almost there,” I heard myself saying.
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05:25 pm. NAIA Airport Welcome home! Pushing the cart of my luggage, the cool Christmas air pressed my skin. As I pushed through the crowd of people hugging each other, laughing and exchanging greetings, I felt a stab of jealousy. I nervously scanned the crowd. Not a single sign of a loved one. I suddenly felt like I am an alien here – unfamiliar of the scenario in front of me. I gripped the handle of the cart firmer, but I noticed that I’m already languid. Being forlorn drained up all of the energy left of me. I know that mom and dad are at work, but still they should have... “Kristine!” a familiar voice called. I froze. No, that can’t be... I slowly spun around and my eyes... Oh my, it’s really him. It’s Josh. I found myself rooted on the ground for a second as I watched him run towards me. He’s still the same, I thought.
Next moment I know, he hugged me so tight – so tight as if he does not want to let me go.
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“How did you know?” I asked cautiously and then he let go of me.
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“Your parents told me,” he replied with a wink. I can’t help but laugh. Here he goes again, trying to make me smile. Nothing has changed. “Come on, let’s go and I’ll drop you home. Everybody’s expecting you,” he said as he helped me on my luggages. I nodded. During the ride, I suddenly realized how much I missed him. Josh is his name. We knew each other since we were still young. He was my playmate, then. We shared stories together, played games together, cried together, laughed together, got dirty together, got scolded by our parents together, went to school together and built dreams together. We are the best of pals. He is my brother, my “bestest” friend. My best everything. He never failed to make me smile even with his silliest pranks. There never was a time that he never failed to calm me when I’m in hysterics. He never got wrong in giving the things that would make me happy. Im always happy with him, and so is he. He is the best and most wonderful thing in our friendship. Years have passed and maturity began to settle. We didn’t play those silly games anymore but we still have each other. We are still friends and we still do things together, like going to school, doing our assignments and going home. It’s just then that I suddenly felt a different affection
towards him – that the way I already looked at him is not just a mere friend anymore but that I’m starting to like him.
But I never told him so for I was afraid that stupid affection would end up our perfect friendship. That’s the very last thing in the world I never want to happen. But no, that would never happen. We vowed that we’ll never leave each other and never part from each other.
“Come in,” there was a reluctance on my voice. The door opened, it was mom.
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At least, that’s what i thought. Seems like it has been ages ago, but in my mind I could still replay how it happened second after second. Dad broke the news that he’ll send me abroad because he wants me to finish my studies there. I refused to, but there’s nothing I can do. I spent sleepless nights crying. I never told Josh. I know it’s wrong but I just cant help it. When we see each other, I act like everything’s normal. I still listen to what he says and still laugh when I have to. But it’s hard that i oftentimes catch myself staring at him and thinking of the life ahead without him. It was a heavy burden on my part, but for the sake of our friendship, I didn’t dare tell him. All I wanted for the remaining days we’re together, is to see him smile. The night before my flight, I locked myself in my bedroom. Locked in thinking of myself, thinking what will happen between me and Josh. Then someone knocked.
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“Josh is outside. He wants to talk to you dear.” My heart gave a sudden thunp. How could he know? No, that doesn’t matter anymore. It’s high time for him to know. With every ounce of strength and courage, i stood up and headed towards the door. There he was, standing with a startled look in his face. I quickly bowed for looking at him a littlelonger makes me want to burst in tears, then I said it all - that I was very sorry I didn’t tell him earlier, that I was afraid our friendship might end, that I was afraid of losing him, and promised that I would be coming back, I slammed the door in front of him. I could not stand facing him. “Here we are,” Josh said. I was jolted from my deep thoughts and I looked at him. He’s smiling. “Welcome home,” he said. 06:15 pm Quezon City This is truly the happiest moment of my life. It’s really good to be home. I missed the whole familyand here they are, all gathered to celebrate my homecoming. Happiness filled the air as the glimmering Christmas lights illuminated the house. I wished under my breath this wont last, especially this time that I’m with Josh once again.
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December 08, 2008. 08:00 am A car parked outside. I took a peak and saw Josh standing. I knew it, for the last time, I checked myself on the mirror. I smiled, then hurriedly raced downstairs. Josh told me last night that he’ll take me somewhere. I
was really excited about it. I opened the door.
“Oh, Kristine, you really look great today.”
I blushed. “Thanks, Josh.” “So, let’s go.” “Okay.” Inside the car, something caught my eye. It looks familiar. “Remember that one?” josh asked, following my gaze. Then it all came back. “Why should I forget?” I asked. “That’s the teddy bear I gave you on your birthday.” He smiled then he drove away.
car.
08:15 am. Cubao “We’re here,” he said with a jolly sing-song voice as he stopped the
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“Uhm, particularly where?” I asked darting from one establishment to another. “There,” he pointed at a certain direction. I gasped. A bridal shop. What on earth... “So, shall we?” he said. “Uhuh.” I was trembling inside while I took the flight of steps. Josh opened the door for me, and as I stepped inside, the sweet scent of roses met my senses. I felt like I was in paradise.
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“Good morning, honey. I’m glad to see you again,” a woman’s voice said. She smiled at Josh and gave him a hug.
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What’s happening? “Kristine, this is Aubrey, my fiance. Aubrey, this is Kristine, my bestfriend.” I suddenly felt as if the world had stopped. Did I here it right? That the woman in front of me is his fiance? “Kristine, I brought you all along because I thought you’d like to meet her and I also want you to help her out on choosing a wedding gown. I know you have a good fashion sense,” he said, as if he doesn’t care what I felt. Like he cares, I thought. Tears began to sting my eyes “Excuse me,” I said while I bit my lip, trying to supress my tears. I ran out of the shop and ran to nowhere. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. This is a total nightmare, I convinced myself, but I can feel the hurt swelling inside me. It’s real - I can feel it. “I didn’t know you’d be hurt”, a voice said. I stopped. “You are my bestfriend, but all these years I fell inlove with you. I never told you so because all I knew is that I’ll never be more than a friend to you. I never dared telling you because our friendship was at stake.” I turned around. He looks weary and tired as if he’s been craving to tell those things for a long time.
“The world fell on the night before you went to America. Just like any other night I’ve spent with you, I went there hoping that we might gaze at the stars again and I knew that...” he hesitated, “...that I no longer could hide what I felt for you, I thought I must tell you. But what did I get? I was startled to see you with those red puffy eyes, and what I heard from you never made me want to leave you again. ”
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“You left me, Kristine, but I still love you. Darkness came upon me but Aubrey came with a light. She was the very best version of you. She made me feel what you had made me feel when you also came into my life. She made me laugh, we shared stories. She laughs like you do and she likes things you also like. She resembles you. That made me fell for her – because I can see you in her, because I know deep within me that I still love you.” There was silence. Suddenly, torrents of rain fell. I was crying harder than ever. My eyes went blurry, but I still saw him turn his back. The rain spluttered hard on my skin and I could still make out his figure slowly walking away. With his head bowed and his hands dugged in his pockets, he seemed to be unaware of the heavy rain that poured on him. Through my heart, I watched him walk slowly. There goes my life, I thought. I bowed and stifled a sob. “Josh,” I whispered. Then I looked at him thinking of the could-have-beens and saying nothing.
Circles
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islaw
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Fawn-eyed islaw
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Emotion Overload
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Liana Acuzar
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His tormented soul screams in the dark abyss of solitude. His world so derelict, tattered and dismalso murky, meaningless and bitter. The untidy bangs obscures the enigmatic face, a face contorted with animosity... the face that never etched a smile... the face, suicidal a look, so forlorn. He stifled a sob, behind his hair, one can never see... ...how tears roll down his eyes
cried.
...how his lips quivered ...how, like a hurt child, he
His clenched fists suddenly slackened, and reached for his wrist, downpour of tears, again stroke. Next moment, blood dripping, like poison seeping through, flowing forever, forever.
Sa isang sulok akoý nagkubli, sulok na siyang naging saksi sa bawat luhang pilit ikinubli ng mga matang may nais mawari. Sa aking pag-iisa, sa alabok na nilikha, muntng sulok na ito ang nakasama. Pagkat sa bawat minutong nagdaraan ay kasabay ng inyong paglisan. Sa muling pagpanhik sa sulok na likha, pilit binubuhay kariktan ng gunita. Sa sulok na ‘to ng kawalan, lutang ang isipan tanging hangad, kayoý muling masilayan. Saan nga ba dadalhin ng amihan, aking tinig sa nangungusig na kawalan? Pagkat heto’t naghihintay...iniwan... nag-iisa sa munting kulungang aking nilikha.
Tatsulok
Kliene Agbayani
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Ladduk
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Yun ba yun
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You glared As if I own the heavens You stare As if I was the answer to everything You beg me to stay Coz I had what was missing You held my hand And promised me I own your world But I know you’re an assh*** Just like what everybody else told I knew you would leave me for her Coz she owned you, your world I knew you would go And leave me with nothing at all I knew my place When will you learn yours?
Last Bout
Kathleen Sibal
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Isa lang ang gusto namin Pero hilig niyong gawing dalawa O higit pa Bakit ba, ‘di na ka’yo makuntento sa isa? Kapag kami’y nasasaktan O di kaya’y nahihirapan, Talaga bang kayo’y sumasaya? Pilit naming iniintindi Ngunit ‘di namin mawari Gawain nyong ‘di maaari Magsawa naman kayo Halos lahat na ng oras namin laan sa inyo Kasi kami sawang-sawa na Mapanakaw na sandali gusto niyong angkinin? Pasensya nami’y paubos na At bago pa ang oras ng hiwalayan Tanggapin nyo ‘tong alay naming bato Nang maihampas sa mga ulo niyo Nawa’y ibahin niyo na Sistema nyong pangdalawahan Tao ako. Tao siya. Tao kami. Tao rin kayo ngunit hindi pang-agham ‘Di kanais-nais ang inyong eksperimento.
Dementia, disturbia Quintab
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The world is in shambles and the apocalypse is nearing. The annihilation of the human race is gradually coming, and there are only two persons left to enjoy what remains of the decrepit world. They are Adam and Eve—trapped in a hole-in-the-wall that passess off as a room, a doomed place like what one usually sees in a horror film that’s not really horrifying.
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They could have been naked except of pieces that are left of their tattered clothes. In a normal world- a male and a female who are virtually naked and trapped in a place, would stoke the libidinal raging of the hormones and the inevitable exchange of body fluids. There would be a feast of the senses. In Adam and Eve’s present world, however, none of these could happen. Trapped in a life-anddeath situation, the last thing they could think of is carnal pleasure.
How long have they been there? They are not aware of it. It is as if time has escaped from the spaces of their fingers. Time evaporated with the gradual dissipation of humanity and that’s the reason why they seem to be trapped in a vacuum, in a black hole that seems to suck all there is.
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They have been since god-knows-when or since satan knows when or since brahman- knows-when or since Allah-knows-when or whatever. That’s something funny about the world. People create imaginary entities, metaphysical entities in philosophical parlance. They call them gods, deities, or whatever suits their taste. Come to think of it, if Marsians landed on earth they’d certainly think that people of this world are a bunch of loonies going bananas all the time. They have not spoken with each other and they find itokay, even comforting. They fear that when they would converse, things that they wouldn’t want to hear would be blurted out without warning. Their blood-shot eyes communicated all there is to tell, that renders speaking useless. They gaze into each other’s eyes for a couple of times and those moments explain the confusion they feel. The silence that cuts through them is arctic, even makes the corners of the room suffer from frostbites.
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“ I’m tired of this! Everything about this is as crazy as crap,” Adam broke the silence, still stolid and unconvinced of what he has just said. He covertly eyed the girl across her and saw the void expression in her face. She’s pretty, he thought, but not jaw-dropping. He closely examined every corner of her body while she was not looking, and for the first time, beneath all the grime glued all over her body, he found her stunning.
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“Hey!” another shot at conversation but the same is welcomed by a blank stare, a stare so empty you’d think she’s shut in a parallel void universe. Adam is starting to feel that she’s getting on her nerves by the passivity she exudes. Darn it! Could somebody please have this girl replaced? He asks under her breath. He commited conversational gambits to memory but found them useless in the company of a mannequin. “Are you daft or something? I am talking to you! I am, unfortunately or otherwise, with you and you are with me. There’s no damn possible way we can change that, is there? I am trying to make things lighter here and all you do is shut yourself in your own sick world!” he isn’t aware that he’s already yelling. “I’m sorry,” he said after his temper has ebbed. Their eyes met and saw in their very eyes the crippling fear and confusion that grip them.
After holding the words tight in her chest for so long, Eve shudders into motion and this surprised Adam, with the realization that he’s still in the company of a breathing organism. He started wandering whether cockroaches are still creeping on the surface of the earth given the fact that they are said to have the capacity to withstand any nuclear war or whatever it is that may erase humanity from the earth’s crust.
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“You think this is crazy, don’t you?” her voice trails off and jerks imperceptibly. By the way she spoke, Adam could immediately spot the biting fear crawling all over her. Girls, really, are transparent glasses; one easily sees what’s inside them and they gradually shatter into pieces. Men, on the other hand, are too prone to build a wall around their emotions. No! This is just the way it is, he wanted to say but it never makes its way out loud. He clears his throat and tried to act calmly. “I’d like to believe that this is just some sort of a weird dream that we, be a crooked twist of fate, coincidentally share. I am in my room, deep in sleep and dreaming about all this crap. And you, yourself have hit the sack, slumbering while trapped in this dreaming.” There was silence that stretched across the cosmos. “I’d like to convince myself that I’m just having my
schizophrenic attack, that all these are but products of my demented imagination. I think I’m failing in two counts.
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“Look here! Out there is a whole lot different world, far crazier than you can imagine...and who knows someone’s just playing a nutty game on us.’’ Eve could practically taste the smell of death in her mouth. Death, she sensed, is impending. But she doesn’t want to believe her baser instincts. Suddenly, her life came rushing through an animated montage, clipped in a single creased post-it paper.
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Everything was rapid and hazy. For a spilt second, she became pensive. She thought of the life she would soon lose. Her life is an anthology of ill-fated events—poor career, fizzled relationship(s), dreadful childhood, traumatic adulthood, estrangement from family, pending estafa case all gobbled up into an ugly circle, that is, her life. If there is one perfect surname for the name Eve, it would be Suffering. Ms. Eve Suffering. Funny and ironic, why she would even fear death now given the life she lived and the life she would have to return to if she wouldn’t die now. Death could be the end of it all, but why is she afraid of it? “Yeah right and the world is flat!” Adam snapped Eve back to reality. It was a sharp retort, its sarcasm darted with the sharpness of a knife. “You think this is just a joke. But this is perfectly not. Ten billion people are dead for reasons we don’t exactly know and you still think this is a joke. We’ll be dead any minute now for the most unfathomable of reasons. Hope
is virtually nil. Wake up wonderwoman!” the world is topsy-turvy indeed. A minute ago Adam seemed to be the hero and Eve the damsel in distress. Now, they’ve switched roles.
“Dont’ be such an asshole! Everything’s gonna be fine.” She’s trying hard to believe what she’s blabbering. “Think of the possibilty the God is still here!”
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Adam guffawed like a hyena. He’s getting madder and madder and there’s no stopping him. He embraced his tummy tightly in an attempt to control his wild boisterous laughter. “You’re impossible. I can’t believe you can still drop the God-is-here-we’ll-be-fine-bullshit.” He stopped snickering. His countenance shifted into the Marcosian sterness. His eyes now razor-sharp. “There’s no god and stop bullshitting me with that. Can’t believe you still have that in mind. Look, god is not here, neither is he there and he can never be everywhere because he does NOT exist. Nietzche is right. God is dead! He’s dead long before man has even existed. Man came here like mushrooms. He just popped out of nowhere and yes, the biblical crap is nothing but crap, phony stories fabricated by people whose messianic delusions are all derivative of their fetid brain”. The air surrounding them is suffocating. The weight of the atmosphere became grave and severe, bloating their reason and vitality to smithereens. There was a strange silence that enveloped Adam and Eve, what followed was a loud bang, and that was the last memory Eve and Adam had.
Played-out
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islaw
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Estatwa islaw
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It Is Done
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Josalyn Contillo
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He has done nothing to deserve death, but the uniconvinced crowd still insisted that He must be crucified, and their shouts prevailed, the believers cried. Instead of him, the release of the murderer, even the denial and betrayal of a follower, the insult of the Pharisees and the unbelievers, the humble Christ, all these he suffered.
With thirsty pieces of silver, like a slave, He was sold, they gave Him a crown and a robe, but as a cruel and mocking joke. The robe was clotted with His blood, and more of it streaked His face, as they set the crown of thorns in his head, and in the executioner’s cross, He was lead. His birth in a manger, his death on the cross. Born in poverty, died in disgrace. His resurrection, assigning of the first mission, to go and make disciples of all nations. The responsibility we only remember in occassions, a few. Unfortunately. Yes, unfortunately.
Glutatayon Sino ang nagsabing kailangan Ni Flora ang Likas Papaya Upang siyaĂ˝ gumanda? Sabi man sa patalastas Ang kutis ni Bea ang kailangan ni Lucresia Upang mapasakanya ang alindog Ni Edmundo. Hindi mapapahiran ang Dekolor na mundo ng isang Mapanlinlang pintor. Kinukutya man ni Belo ang Mga tsokolate na nakabalot sa Kutis ko, I does not care, kako. Maitim man ako sa buhok ni Tonyo, Siya namaĂ˝ mahal ako nang mas Matamis pa sa biko.
Morenang Mestisa
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Remind Me...
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Yun ba yun
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I remember how I saw you While you were in her room I remember how you banged my head on the wall While you convince me that I was the only one I remember how you poured beer into the burning couch The one you lit when you were so drunk I remember the day you saw us together Me and my best friend How angry you were How hurt I was when you single-handedly took me away I remember how you shot him The bullet pierced in the middle of his scared eyes I remember the lives you buried And how painful it was not to let their beloved know I remember hell And how bitter it was to visit you there I remember everything Before I put a bullet onto your head
A True Refuge pusa
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Every look is paradise to the eyes. Every touch is gentleness without scratch. Every muawh is doorway to sincerity. Every mmmh is endless security. Every hmp is flip side easily understood. Every toinkz is “loved� imperfection. Every huhu is tear that truly joys the heart. Every move is gravity in groove. Every feeling is truly with no ending. From an escape to reality A heart finds its home in trance. Then everything just goes on and on.
Makinilya
Glaesan Adriano
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Kung tama ang kalkulasyon ko, halos labing-anim na taon na rin akong nagsusulat. Sa pakiwari ko ay matagal na iyon, sapat nang panahon upang itigil ko na. Kung sabagay, marami-rami na rin ang mga naisulat ko. Masyado ko na ring ginagamit ang pagsusulat na pampalipas oras, nakakapagod na rin. Sa katunayan,
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niluluma na ng panahon ang aking mga palad at daliri, kasabay ng unti-unting pagkaubos ng mga ideya sa isipan ko. Isa ito sa mga mahihirap na bagay pagdating sa pagsusulat, minsan pare-pareho na ang daloy ng kwento o kaya naman sadya lamang walang maisulat. Hindi lamang ako ang nagreretiro sa pagsusulat, maging ang makinilyang kasabay ko sa bawat letrang nailuwal ko sa mundo.
Hindi ko na mawari ang ibang letra nito. Nagtitiwala na lamang ako sa sa talas ng isipan ko, at kung minamalas at dinadalaw na ako ng antok, maraming papel ang nasisira ko. Maging ang tunog nito, hindi na kasing lakas na tulad ng dati, hindi na nakakabulabog. Binalak ko na rin namang bumili ng tinatawag nilang kompyuter pero sayang ang aking makinilya. Magagamit pa naman at ano naman ang ipinagkaiba ng mga sinusulat ko sa makinilya at ng sa kompyuter, wala naman. Hindi ko na rin nabibigyang pansin na maging ang silid na tinutuluyan ko ay ginawa nang lungga ng mga insekto. Itigil ko na talaga marahil ito at humanap na lamang ng ibang bagay na maaring pagkaabalahan. Ngunit papaano?
Natatangi raw ang kakayahan ko sa pagsusulat, sabi ng guro ko noon sa Panitikan. Taglay ko raw ang puso ng isang tunay na manunulat, dagdag pa niya. Noong mga panahong iyon, lubhang mahalaga ang papuri niya.
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Sa buong buhay ko, siya pa lamang kasi ang pumuri sa akin ng ganoon. Nasanay akong masabihan ng bobo o hindi naman kaya napakalakas na tanga, lalo na sa Siyensya at Aritmetika. Naisip ko lamang na marahil dala ng awa kaya nasabi iyon ni Gng. Torres. Sa palagay ko kasi, pangkaraniwan lang ang mga sinusulat ko, maliban na lamang sa ibang malalalim na salita na naituro ni Ina sa akin noong nabubuhay pa siya. Tinawag ako ni Gng. Torres noong matapos ang klase, nakangiti niyang sinabi sa akin na totoo ang
mga nasambit niya. Nagkaroon ako ng panibagong lakas at bahagya akong napangiti at tahimik na lumayo sa kanya.
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Ang mabuting alaalang iyon ang binubuhay ko sa aking paggugunita ngayon. Ang papuring sinabi niya ang lubos kong kailangan sa araw na ito. Mag-aaplay ako sa isang kumpanya. Napakatayog ng gusali sa aking
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harapan, tila isang pangarap na kay hirap abutin. Naramdaman kong biglaang nangatog ang tuhod ko sa takot at bahagyang nanlamig ang aking lalalamunan. Sa entrada ng gusali ay hinarang ako ng security guard dahil sa wala daw akong I.D. “Mag-aaplay ho kasi ako,” mahina kong sagot. Naramdaman kong tinitingnan niya ako mula ulo hanggang paa. “Iyon ang opisina ni boss. Kumatok ka muna bago ka pumasok,” pangiti niyang turo sa isang napakalakiing pintuan na salamin. Tahimik akong naglakad at nahagip ako ng matatalas na tingin ng mga nagdaraan. Alam ko na marahil kung bakit. Sino ba naman kasi ang tatanggap sa tulad kong nakapalda ng mahabang puti na aking nahiram lamang sa kapit-bahay at nakaberdeng blusa na nabili ko sa napakamurang presyo. Hindi na iyon mahalaga, kailangan kong lubos ang trabaho. Nanghihina na si Itay at isa pa, mahusay naman daw akong magsulat. May katabaan ang tinatawag nilang Boss, may malaking boses na wariý nangangain ng tao at may hawak-hawak na pluma. Uminom siya ng kape habang pinagmamasdan ako ng napakatalas. Kinuha niya ang aking bio-data at pangisi-ngising tumawa. “Iha,
hindi ka man lang nakapagtapos ng kolehiyo, papano kita tatangapin? ”tanong niya. “Pero S-sir, pakibasa po m-muna ang mga s-sinulat ko,” nangutal kong sagot. Ngumiti siya at nagwikang, “Pasensya na iha, ang kailangan ko dito ay nakapagtapos ng kolehiyo, marunong gumamit ng kompyuter at may sapat na kaalaman sa pagsusulat. Maganda ang isinulat mo, kung iyong nananaisin, susuweldohan kita, ilalathala ito ngunit sa ibang pangalan. Pinoprotektahan ko lang ang pangalan ng kumpanya.” Napatayo ako, “Nasaan ang kredibilidad ninyong nga manunulat?” at akoý hagarang umalis.
Hindi iyon ang huling pagkakataong nangyari sa akin ang ganoong pangyayari. Labing-anim na akong nagsusulat, nangangarap na minsaý matanggap ako sa mga gusaling nakikita ko. Mahirap ang maglabas-pasok
at umasang muli, nauubos ang kakaunting pag-asa na nasa puso ko na makikita ko rin ang pangalan ko na mailathala, ngunit patuloy akong magsusulat. Alam ko, balang-araw, hindi man ngayon, may makapansin din sa aking mga likha.
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Within boarders
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islaw
42 08
Passed-out islaw
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Ultimatum Kliene Agbayani
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Hear the silence in its woebegone chants through the void whispers of scourging dark. Flickering lights starve to their demise, sa the leaves rustle in this silence of despair. the moon casts its immortal totality, unleashed by the spells of tormented melody. Enigmatic scents that cripple within a farewell aroma of a deserted wrath. last seconds of breath... a single shot! One last tear drop...abscond this life! Pity are you, you that wander tonight, beg the sky, you be in eternity.
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Dilim
Kristine Iyra Nadal
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Sumisipol kasabay ang hangin, sa mga tala akoý nakatingin, mukha moý tila nagniningning ngunit ang hamog tangi kong kapiling. Sa madilim na mundo akoý nakatago ang mga problemaý nagmimistulang mga multo. Puso ko’y unti-unting naninikip, at ang utak ko’y huminto sa pag-iisip. Patuloy ang paglalakad sa walang hanggan, mga tao sa paligid ay di maaasahan. ako’y sinisipa, ako’y kinukutya, hindi mapigilan, pagtulo ng aking mga luha. Ang dilim ang tangi kong kapiling, ang pag-iisa’y di kailanman idinadaing. Kung tulad nila ang makakapiling, di na bale, di na ako hihiling.
A poem made while staring at the stale blackboard, embossed by a teacher, spewing vapid ideas of the yore
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Poet by the dark, ece3
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the title is longer than the time spent for this class. yawns, bemoans the want for a bed, the mirage of a pillow is dredged up from the impertinence of his perorations and... (“Do you understand? ” he yells.) (“Yes sir!” my wit-denied classmates volleyed back ) ...continuation of the spell lethargy wafted in the humid atmosphere during time,unholy. a minute stagnates for hours, an hour
stretches to centuries. The ring of the bell= nirvana, elusive yet coming. The ring of the bell= salvation, perdition escaped, life restored. 35 minutes more. For now, I make a poem while staring at the stale blackboard, embossed by a teacher, spewing vapid ideas of the yore.
How I wish I knew you Long before You became what you are now How I wished I helped you When you were alone and you desperately gasped for air how I wished I loved you at the time when you realized you hate the world how I wish it wasn’t too late how I wish I was there long before your last breath and now you’re here enjoying your visits freely staring at me when you wanted to even if nobody seems to know I see you.
Yin Eyes Yun ba yun
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Bee-thin A Broken Antology of Three Russel Jallorina
I
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I do not know how the hell he got out of that deep hole in the ground – and more, how he got out alive, but when I saw him again, he was very perky and was animatedly talking to the firemen.
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I cannot forget his half-open mouth frozen in an unscreamed scream as he fell in backwards towards the hole, like some slowmotion scene from a very bad horror movie, and as he fell, one part of me cannot help but blame him for not listening when I told him that his wild goose treasure hunt down the bottom of the old well was sheer lunacy. And now, he is alive. It had been almost an hour since I called
the fire department, and when they arrived, he was already out of the well, none the worse for whatever he had in mind.
As I approached him, he looked my way and understood, without talking, the questions etched on my face: How did he get out? What did he find below? Why did he not sustain any injury? He gave me a very condescending look and slowly smiled.
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II Boying knew there were no ghosts, or dwendes, or kapres. He also knew he should have listened to his mother when she told him not to go home late. Worse, it is only now that he realized he should not have listened to his friends’ ghost stories. They said one could feel the presence of ghosts if the air suddenly becomes cold, and as the temperature around him inexorably dropped, he tried to convince his ten-year old mind that there were no such things as ghosts. Then he heard foot steps behind him. Or so he thought. He looked back and, seeing no one else around, he continued walking, this time faster, almost running. Again, he heard foot steps.
III
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“I told you there won’t be a next time,” she muttered under her breath through the puffy lips, broken teeth and the eyes swollen shut she sustained because of yet another beating she received from her husband, as she slowly squeezed the trigger of the gun pointed at his snoring, drunken figure sprawled on the bed.
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My footsteps pronounced sweet tones As I walked in the streets of Rome I laughed and went gaga On barhopping from Malate to Ayala Went wild and danced Hula till dawn Enjoyed Hawaiian luau and feasted without a frown I wished a thousand dimes In the breathtaking fountains in France I gambled and drank Martini While in Macau and other sin cities Shopped Versace, Armani and countless labels In New York, Hong Kong and shopaholic citadels Kissed a Frenchman and dated like a Parisian Prayed and saw the pope in Vatican Surfed and walked miles In the beaches of Phuket and Miami Watched the sunset in California Everything was perfect and went with the plan All until my alarm clock rang and said it’s ten.
Alarm Clock Yun ba yun
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Laconicus Yellow
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Questions. Doubts. Uncertainty. Pain. Sadness. Despair. Hopelessness. Hopelessness. Reproach. Time. World. Judgement. Tears.
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Abangers Jake Coballes
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Nag-iisa na lamang ako rito, Dito sa maalikabok na sulok, Kasama ang mga karton at buhangin, Nakaupo at tila tulala, Pawis ay tumutulo, botas ay bumibigat, Hinihigpitan ang hawak sa munting agila. Ramdam ko ang tensyon, Sa kabila pa ng matinding init. Maya-maya ay nariyan na sila. Naku! Ilang sandali na lang ay nariyan na sila! Sapagkat tanaw ko ang lagusan, Ang lagusan patungong kamatayan. Kahit ano ang mangyari, Mananatili ako rito, mag-aabang. Handa ako sa ano mang paparating. Kahit marami pa sila, kahit magaling pa. Kahit sa “bridge” o “tunnel” lumabas. Huwag lang akong ma-“bulding”. Magsilabas kayo diyan! Hindi ako naka-arctic! … “Counter-terrorists win.”
Fatal Frame
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Josef Antoni Betita
Your family is always traveling because of your mother’s and father’s professions. Because of this you’ve always had difficulty in making friends, and it always pained you whenever you had to switch provinces because you would lose whoever friend you made not to mention that it’s also quite a hassle having to move your things every month or so. You always wished that this menial routine would end one day but you know that that wish is far from possible.
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Whenever you arrived in a few provinces your father would have already reserved a certain hotel for the family to stay for the month. Tonight you arrive at a prestigious hotel known throughout the country and you couldn’t help but feel a little special. Your father would always reserve two separate rooms for the three of you of course you couldn’t care less because you
considered yourself to be an adult.
Tonight the room your father has booked in is located on separate floor. You shrug it off like it was nothing as you tell yourself that your father probably wants to have some “private� time with your mother.
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As you ascend unto the sixth floor and the elevator doors open before you, you are immediately met with a chilling silence. You calm your nerves and search for your room, while searching you begin to take note that you are the only person presently staying on this floor. Immediately into your room you take notice of the numerous portraits and vintage photographs placed around the room. All of the portraits have pictures of old men and women staring blankly into space. But again, you go on as normally. You go on with the night as usual, fixing you things to fit the theme that you have chosen for this temporal room of yours when suddenly your phone rings then rings, startling you. You walk slowly towards the ringing phone and pick it up, at the other end you hear nothing more but the gentle voice of your mother wishing you good night. You return the message then head off to sleep, praying to God that everyone you love remain safe for the night. You also pray that those unnerving images would not claw their ways out of their portraits to get to you...It seemed like an
irrational request but you just wanted to be safe.
The next morning you wake up normally, somewhat disappointed and excited at the same time because of the fact that yet again, you have a new school to attend to. You begin to comprehend the thousands of possibilities that lie ahead of you today- new friends, new enemies... a whole new environment for you to explore.
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However, as you get off your bed, you notice something peculiar. You notice that the portraits have disappeared and only the empty frames remained. You walk slowly towards the portraits and you place your hands within them and you realize that they weren’t portraits at all. They were windows. But then again, where could have those faces come from if you were the only person in the floor.
an si ui an Lo si ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui Lo THE LOUISIAN COURIER Editorial Staff
eC Th o e C uri Th o er eC uri Th o er e C uri Th o er eC uri Th o er e C ur ou ier rie r
Joy Balucas Liana Acuzar Josef Antoni Betita Glaesan Adriano Kliene Agbayani Paul Taloma Theodore Somejo Valen Casauay Idle Tumaliuan Felix Tumbali
Ms. Macekrell Dela Cruz Mr. Roland Cagurangan Advisers
an si ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui n Lo sia ui
Marquin MabazzaEditor-in-Chief Joana PagurayanAssociate Editor Kathleen SibalManaging Editor Serjohn Vando DurwinLiterary Editor Norienne ParallagFeatures Editor Maricel BananNews Editor Ronel EugenioSports Editor Tristan BaliuagLay-out Artist
ou rie ou r rie ou r rie ou r Co rie ur r Co ie ur r ie r
Junior Writers
Upholding the Ethics of Jounalism, the Louisian Courier aims to develop students into responsible citizens in a free and democratic society: serves students rights as well as their general welfare. For comments and suggestions, please write or visit The Louisian Courier Office, Ground Floor, San Jacinto Building, University of Saint Louis, Tuguegarao City 3500 Philippines. All rights reserved. CopyrightŠ2008
Sambinhi ‘07 All Rights Reserved