Unang Hiraya

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UNA


Ukol sa pabalat Iniwan ang araw, salamisim at buwan Gaya ng ala-ala, panahon at kasaysayan Pag-iwa’y ‘di nagdulot ng kasawian Bagkus ay masayang pagsilang ng bagong panitikan Ikaw at ako ay mga iniwang bakas Ang pamana ng lumipas Ang lilikha ng matutulang bukas

Ang pabalat ay likhang sining ni Ethelou Sumague


The Searcher Literary Folio 2018 Karapatan sa Paglathala Š 2018 Reserbado ang lahat ng karapatan sa produksyon, reproduksyon at distribusyon ng aklat pampanitikang ito ng The Searcher 20172018. Ang pag-aari ng mga akda ay nananatili sa mga indibidwal na kasama sa koleksyong ito. Kinakailangan ang permiso mula sa mga may-akda bago ito muling mailathala maliban kung ito’y gagamitin bilang sipi sa mga kritikal at pang-akademikong papel. PATNUGOT NG ISYU Katrina Malate PAGSASALA Dan Joseph Lim Ervin Joshua Navarro Joan Estrella Glen Del Rosario Katrina Malate TEKNIKAL Jovie Melarpis John Michael Librero Ethelou Sumague GRAPIKA Jovie Melarpis Rad Oliver Rimas Ethelou Sumague Katrina Malate Cristian Magtubo Maricris Santilles Germaine Aviles Ervin Joshua Navarro KABUUANG DISENYO Jovie Melarpis


Paunang Salita May nakapagsabi noon sa akin na ang tanging paraan para mahulaan ang hinaharap ay ang likhain ito. Tanda ko pa noong tanungin kami ng aming guro sa ikalimang baitang kung ano ang nais namin paglaki. Nais ko sanang maging isang astronaut ika ko, at halos lahat sa aking mga kamag-aral ay nagbanggit ng magagandang propesyon. Ngunit habang tumatagal, nagiging malupit ang realidad. Sa sobrang hirap ng kurso mo, mapapatanong ka nalang kung bakit ka pumasa sa sekondarya ng walang kahirap hirap, habang aapat na oras ang tinutulog mo kakahanda para sa pagsusulit kinabukasan ngayong kolehiyo.

Pero may pangarap ka, hindi ba?

At hindi nag-iisa ang pangarap na iyon.

Tatlong taon matapos ang unang pagtungtong ko sa unibersidad na ito, isa ang publikasyong ito sa humubog ng aking mga hangarin sa buhay. Natuto akong kumilala ng tao, at naising isulat ang kanilang kwento mula sa iba't ibang anggulo. At ang librong nasa palad mo mismo ay ang koleksyon mula sa pinagtagpi-tagping perspektibo mula sa apat na sulok ng aming pangalawang tahanan, ang The Searcher.

Sa pagtatapos ng Kotoba Ichiban bilang Ichi hanggang Ju, muli naming binubuksan ang panibagong kalipunan ng literatura - Ang Hiraya. Hiraya na siyang simbolo ng pangarap, ang lagusan ng bagong simula ng makukulay na panitikan. Ang matang sumasalamin sa iba’t-ibang karanasan at metapora ng buhay na maglalaon ay magiging bakas at kasaysayan. Maiiwang yaman na mga baluti sa mga pagsubok ng hinaharap- mga pamana. May nakapagsabi noon sakin na ang tanging paraan para hulaan ang hinaharap ay ang likhain at umpisahan ito, habang lumilingon sa pamana ng nakaraan. Gawin mong posible ang hindi mo kaya, at gawin mong plano ang iyong mga pangarap. Habang binibigyan ka pa ng katawan mo ng dahilan para mabuhay, ang pangarap na iyon ay hindi parin natatapos.

Hayaan mo ang sipi na ito ang maging simula.

At sana'y samahan niyo ang paglalakbay nito hanggang wakas.

KATRINA MALATE Patnugot ng Isyu


Talaan ng Nilalaman IF WE WERE ALL JUST PHILOCALISTS

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PUNLA

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IF YOU WILL LOVE HER

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DISNEY PRINCESS MEDLEY

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NGITI NG NAKARAAN

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THE RAIN

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THE FERRIS WHEEL RIDE

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TINAMAAN NG KUWAN

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SEEKERS OF TRANQUILITY

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PAMANA NI MAYORA

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AKO BA O AKO

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MATCHING SOCKS

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RUBE GOLDBERG

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R.E.T.R.O.G.R.A.D.E

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STAR’S CYCLE

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FINDING HIRAETH

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50 STEPS AWAY

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SA PAMANANG WALONG LETRA

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EULOGY

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60 MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

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TATLONG MUKHA NG DISISYETE

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CHASING CHASTITY

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BUKAS

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PUSONG INUKIT SA PUNONG MANGGA

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FLOWERS FOR NOVEMBER

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AIR BETWEEN

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KABALYERO NG GABI

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SORROWFUL ARROWS

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TIMYAS NG NAGDAANG ALAALA

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ANG KWENTO AT KWENTA NG MGA ANAK NI MARIA 56 ANG PAMILYA NI CORAZON CARRETERAS

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If We Were All Just P hilocalists In roads unwalked, often I lied on its green swept plain. As a girl, I’ve been accused of being a naïf easily distracted by the complexities of resting earth. In my defense, the moon was full and I was left unsupervised. As I listened to midnight’s hymnbeautiful and hauntingonly to witness the mystic hour of sky deep in slumber which seemed to be so fond of me. Her poetry is written on the ghost of trees whispered on the lips of travelers. She still has so much to show, only if you would stop and see. For a while, notice how rough the waves get, never been bothered by the noise the current made by the commotion of the surface. Never seemed too loud, never seemed too wild. Someday, you will write poetry about her. But first, you must witness it yourself. Like I have. Look how beautiful a forest fire wasthough often they warned only to admire from the distance, not up closeStill remain entirely beautiful. She puts so much energy into her message; perhaps there is scarcely even left, only to let you know there are so much more she could show. I couldn’t cover my ears every time

thunder roared One note song of cicadas and nocturnal lullabies Composed naturally with free orchestral throng. I’ve wondered how something could be so entirely beautiful If there wasn’t a God. I’ve wondered how something could make me so incredibly happythrough these countless, breathtaking mysteriesIf God doesn’t exist. The sunrise and sunset wouldn’t care if we watched it or not. It will keep on being beautiful, even no one bothers to look at it. The abstract panorama of light, suspended cloudsscattered in careless artistryfrom which images formed by what we desired to see. Though from other’s perspective, when their knowledge had left them in a world without wonder, where their sunsets had been reduced to wavelengths and frequencies, where the complexities of still hidden universe had been shredded into mathematical equations. Must I stay beside a calm, clear pond Without daring to ask why my finger refracted on its clear reflection Or napped under the shade of old, hunching tree Which shouldered the mysteries of the world. I’ve wondered how someone could still doubt the existence of who gave us the meaning of the word ‘beautiful’. I’ve wondered how someone still failed to see the God’s hands in this. I’ve wondered how someone still denied the proofs that doesn’t demand a degree to understand. How can we miss Him! I’ve wondered how someone would even choose human pride and questionable hypotheses Of these mystic, splendid things When the nature’s own creator seemed to be so fond Of you. Katrina Malate

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If You Will Love Her If you will love her Take her heart as the biggest part of her body Seduce her soul with the sound of your poetry Kiss her hard as you spill the flaws and its beauty Trace your fingers in the surface of her fragility Lay her down above the sheets of affection and tenderness Feel her warmth and passion as she catches her breath Undress her from the thought of being weak and helpless Touch her, move her and endure her strength Thrust your love deeply inside her, slowly and softly Make her groan out of pain, rejection, lies and anxiety Make her bleed the words she desires to tell but still unheard Then pull off from her the frustration, vanity, sorrow and hatred If you will love her Take her to the summit as you build hopes and dreams of the future Sleep beside her and guard her from the devil’s torture Wrap your arms around her, feel her innocent and honest fragrance Tell her how good she is and how she became all the best things in a glance If you will love her Oh please take her precious heart more carefully than her body And leave her broken tears, sleepless nights and regrets Forget her figure and the glitters covering her face And remember the shape of her soul and the imperfections that makes her wonderfully perfect.

Punla Rad Oliver Rimas

Maricris Santilles

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Disney Princess Medley Bansag nila sa aki’y tulog mantika Sa mga palabas ako’y bihirang makita Kasuotan ko’y pink at lipstick na pula Sa kawalan ng araw ako’y namumutla Sa tore kung saan ako’y inihiga may prinsepeng sa buhok ko ay humihila Kaniyang ginagamit upang makaakyat. Aba teka si Rupunzel pala ang nanghikayat Sa paglandi niya’y gamit ang buhok Yung isa nama’y mansanas na hindi nalunok Nabilaukan siguro kaya nawalan ng malay Natagpuan ng pitong duwende’y inakala’y patay Nakalimutan niya ata ang mahalagang paalala na sa estranghero’y ‘wag magpapakilala. Eto pa ang isang lubhang desperada na kung ‘di dahil sa kwintas ay hindi magkakapaa. ‘Di naglaon nalunod sa sariling bangungot Tinahi na lamang niya ang kanyang buntot. Eto pa ang isa nating bidang lubhang moderna Sa kasuotan niya’y medyo pahubad na ‘Di nausuhan ng gown kaya siguro naka tube Sa carpet ng jowa siya mismo’y nakaluhod ‘wag mag-isip kayong mga malisyoso mga jowa ng pinsesang ito’y hindi namboboso May isa pa akong kilalang medyo desperada pati palaka sa kanya ay pwede na Hindi naman nagkamali sa kanyang desisyon Akalain mo sa likod niyo’y prinsepeng may malaking mansyon

Lipat naman tayo sa ibayong gitna Ako’y nagtataka kung bakit sya’y nag-iisa Lamig ay hindi din niya alintana Palakpakan para sa tunay na reyna Heto pa ang isa nating bida Buhok ay pula daig pa si Rhianna Di naman pumasok sa La Salle pero lubhang magaling pumana Eto namang isa ay sikat na sikat Damit ay Aztec at kayumanggi ang balat Moana bang pag-ibig mga tao’y laging bukang bibig Akala ba nung nauna sakin ganon siya kasikat? Hindi ba niya alam sandalyas ko’y mas sikat? Inapi man ngunit ako’y di sumuko Tingnan ninyo ang gown ko by Michael Cinco Lagi nalang akong api-apihan at nagkukubli Kaya mukha’y tinakpan ko ng makapal na puti ‘Wag ka, palaban ang Pilipinang boses ko Pang broadway ata etong pambato Aming kwento’y inyong natunghayan Sa mga pelikula kami’y inyong inabangan Patawarin kung medyo may kalandian Pabaong kwento’y inyo sana’y pahalagahan Yung iba ay hindi ko na naisama dahil sa aming group chat sila ay ate chona ako’y gumising sapagkat akoy bagot na sa kakaantay sa aking prinsepeng nabalitaan ko’y beki pala. John Phaul Tumambing

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The Rain A rush of feelings Raindrops blare the roof that shelters us There’s something in this rain today And you’re wearing that shoes again You told me it always rains when you wear that A quick wash overflows the floor You groan The water’s getting in your shoes again I smile You’re getting in my mind again

Ngiti ng Nakaraan John Michael Librero

There’s something in this rain today I don’t usually like rains But then there’s you It’s raining And there’s you It’s getting cold and my head hurts But it’s raining and there’s you I can’t even rhyme my thoughts right now I look at you You seem to laugh at something I said Something nonsensical Probably even whimsical Are you always like this? Am I funny to you? Because I never seem to be for

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others I’m liking it a lot... ... I probably shouldn’t It’s kinda ironic Looking at you from a distance A sweet person, smart, caring All I see is a person so easy to fall for In a heartbeat, I pretend I don’t care I also pretend that you’re only sweet to me But from afar, there’s a hint of envy, jealousy I pretend you’re talking to someone I don’t see I don’t know if I want to be like you Or maybe I want to be with you I’m lacking poise today My feet isn’t wet like yours But I’m showing more than I should I’m not sure if this is a crush I’m not sure if you’ll last And leave a lasting mark in my palm But I’m sure I don’t want this Standing with this rain Sharing the same roof Maybe it’s all we got for today Simple rain, falling over and over I stop talking You stop laughing You ask me why I’m quiet all of a sudden I ready my umbrella I take a step I say, “I’m trying not to get attached to you” Neal Andrei Lalusin

The Ferris Wheel Ride “That’s a good book.” I turned to the voice behind me. Holy fuck. “What?” He smiled as I stared at him dumbfounded. He’s the exact person I was. As in literal. That this guy in front of me was basically me. I had run across into myself. Fuckin’ literally. How was this possible. I left the book back to the shelf and went to the cashier just to see if I was having some hallucinations or what. “Do you see that guy over there?” “Uh-huh.” The lady cashier nodded. I was waiting for more but it seemed that she didn’t find anything weird. Like, what the hell. Seriously, people? A complete replica of me was just standing there, and no one seemed to find it weird. Or maybe they were thinking that we were twins. I came back for the guy who’s now holding the book I was supposed to buy. “Are you getting that one?” I asked him. “Uh, why?” he asked. “Are you buying it?” “Ah, yes. That’s last copy here so if you don’t mind—“ He turned his back and went straight to the cashier. Goddamn it. And yes, he bought it. What an asshole. I should have paid for it earlier! I had been book-hunting the whole city for that book. Now it’s on the hand of an annoying stranger who happened to be a stranger-me. Well, yeah that’s even way stranger. I was walking my way out to the bookstore when he called me again. “ H e y, wait.” He was giving me the book. MY BOOK!!! I stared at him and I was sure he saw both shock and confusion in my eyes, he laughed. “Yup. Got this for you. It’s good, really.” I was giving him the are-you-kidding-me look. “Take it,” he said coaxing me. “You owe me

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11 a pizza. Come on.”

I knew I shouldn’t go out with strangers. But I was really fond of strangers and this guy here couldn’t be classified as one. I needed to understand this or lose my sanity. -- Our order arrived when I was busy book-sniffing my new book. “One large bacon feast pizza and a basket of cheesy wedges. Order’s complete, sir.” I thanked the waiter. It was his choice. I mean, I would order the same thing because it’s both my favourites but I let him decide. He chose this particular flavour of pizza and wedges. “God, I love this,” he said while getting his first slice. “I won’t mind eating this pizza for the rest of my life.” Shit. This was really getting weird. “Okay,” I said, thinking of what to say. “Don’t you find it weird?” “Weird what”? He said. “This. We are literally the same person. Or I think we are.” He almost choked on his food. “What?!” I was surprised by his nonchalance. “What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you think we’re twins? What? Are you even aware that we look the same? That we are the same?!” I badgered him with questions. I noticed that he was not really paying attention. He was on his 3rd slice now. Wow, very me. “Stop there, dude,” he answered. “Okay, here’s one thing I know for sure.” He took the last bite of his pizza and wiped his fingers on the tissue. “Somehow, yes. We are one, or whatever. I don’t honestly know too. I just know that when I saw you, I needed to know you. Or I need you to know me. So finish your pizza now, or I’ll eat those all.” That didn’t help. I was never this confused in my life. So we continued devouring our favourites. -- It was after our lunch when we decided to go on walk. I was asking him questions only to get the answer I expected which was either profound or I already knew. “Are you some kind of apparition?” I asked. “Some phantom, or from the future or a version from a parallel universe, maybe?”

“Ha-ha.” He laughed at that. I was being serious. “I am real. See? I am existing. And these people can see me.” He said then winked on this girl we ran into. The girl blushed. Can’t believe it. But I thought I should be proud so I couldn’t help but smirked. I thought, maybe this was someone who would replace me. Maybe I would just be sent into some alternate universe where losers were. Maybe this version of me was here because he’s more deserving to be here. Maybe any minute now, I’d disappear in the thin air. We were talking about stories—same stories we both had—like when he hiked the Mt. Daraitan. He told me how he conquered it even in a bad weather and it was his first time to do mountain climbing, or how he first tried the art of poesy and immediately fell in love with it and the people fell in love with him. I had known those already, of course. It was also my story. But I was just listening to him talking, or more likely reminding me of my story. Our story. I noticed how he combed his hair with his fingers, not in a narcissistic way but in a reflexive one. And his lopsided grin whenever he said something he thought funny, which really wasn’t. I didn’t realize until today how unaware I was with my own quirk. “Hey, ice cream,” he called to vendor. “So what do you want?” “Guess,” I answered. “You ought to know that.” “What flavour do you have, Manong?” he asked. “Vanila and Keso Langka,” the vendor replied. “2 Keso Langka in sugar cone please,” he said. He handed one to me. “I got it right?” he asked. I nodded. “So tell me,” he said, “what are the things I don’t know yet that you know or things I haven’t experienced that you have, or vice versa.” I pondered on his question. He already proved that he knew almost everything I had known and had experienced. But something in his eyes was not in mine. Like a lighter shade of brown, a reflection of a profound and deeper joy. There, it dawned on me the answer to his question. He didn’t know how afraid I was at night because of the worrisome thoughts bugging me, leaving me sleepless. He didn’t know how many ways I imagined myself dying. He didn’t know how bad I felt in causing so much inconveniences and disappointments to people by merely existing. He didn’t know how anxiety had controlled over me. He didn’t know how

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know how from being like him I had become a living failure. He didn’t know any of those. Because he was a paradox to me. Same person but a stranger within me. But I answered him with, “Nothing. I’m sure you know everything about me. We are the same.” I faltered on that last line. He looked at me, as if assessing me. I was pretty sure he could read through my lies. “I may not know some things about you, but I can see it through you.” He ate the tip of ice cream then winked on me. God, that’s one quite solid flirty move I used to do. But now I could not even muster a smooth pick-up line. “I have an idea,” he suggested. And knowing this guy, his idea would be damn mad. It’s a mystery to me how one can know well another person without really needing to know him. Like a fine thread connecting their souls. “Let’s do this thing we both hate so much. Conquering our fear!” “Oh, no. No..no..ple—“ I was in the middle of begging when he dragged me. -- Just a few minutes ago, we were just walking around. Now, we were hundred feet above the ground. “Oh, god no… don’t move,” I begged. I couldn’t even look out. Why on Earth did we ride this Ferris wheel? Stupidity probably. The capsules of this ride were not even enclosed with glass panels. Even a small shudder would be a step closer to our death. We were both screaming at the top of our lungs now, begging to the operator to stop it, as if he could hear us. Almost simultaneously, we both yanked out a handkerchief from our front pocket while still cursing. Amidst the fear, I laughed. “See,” I told him. “You’re just afraid as I am. You are stupid to bring us here.” “Shhh,” he replied trembling while blindfolding his eyes with his hanky. “Oh mygod. No. No…” He chanted while we reached the peak and felt that we’re descending now. Instinctively, I reached out for his hands and held it to mine. I held onto it like it would be the last hand I could ever caress before plunging to

instant death. I held it because I saw him in fear—in his most vulnerable state. I held because I was afraid too. For myself. For us. But in spite of this stupid situation we were in, I was lost staring at him fearing for his life. I untangled the knot on his blindfold and his eyes remained closed. I smiled. He looked like a 5-year old cute kid about to get an injection. I pulled him into my arms. I felt home the moment I wrapped my arms around him. And together, we shared our own fear and conquered it. -- He started to flicker. It was past midnight, and we were talking over some beer when he started to flicker and his voice faltered. He’s like some hologram glitching. “What’s happening?” I asked him in a concerned voice. “I don’t know, dude,” he replied. “Maybe I would be transforming into some monstrous war machine. I dunno.” I looked around us and no one seemed to notice. No. Everything was in a halt. Like the time had frozen. It was only us witnessing and experiencing all this shit. “Hey,” I said. “Don’t leave please. I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone. Stay. We can share this world together. We are one.” He smiled. I recognized that smile--one with genuine joy and great honor. “I think my time here is up,” he answered. His appearance was slowly fading now. Like the light in him was vanishing, making him translucent. I threw my arms around him. “I can’t stay,” he whispered. “But you’re right. We are one. I’ll always be here, within you.” He pulled away from our hug and held my face. “Love me. Fall in love with me every day. Remember that.” That’s when he kissed me on my lips. I felt a fire ignited in me. Burning. Until I no longer felt his lips against mine. I was him. He was me. He was my lost worth. He found me. I found him. Contributed by: ReijanGon

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Tinamaan ng Kuwan “Alam nyo ba, yang si Bonna, buntis!” “Santissima! Balita ko nga, mahirap pa sa daga ang nakadale!” “Naku, kanino? Dun ba sa ulikbang taga-San Joaquin na mukhang matsing?” “Yun ba yung anak ni Gloria?” “Gloria? Yung bansot na tindera sa palengke na boses tikling?” “Oo, yung asawa ni Leong Buntis. Yung lasenggerong malaki pa ang tiyan sa walong-buwang buntis!, may utang pa nga iyong dalawang bilog!” “Oo mare yun nga, di ga at yun ay may anim pang kapatid? Panganay pa nga iyon hindi ga? Ang mga kapatid nun eh mga nanlilimahid at mga amoy patis pa!” “Hindi pa nakakatulong sa kahig-tukang pamilya, eh bumuo na ng sariling pamilya!” “Anong ipapakain nun sa mag-ina nya? Eh pamilya nga niya hindi nya mabuhay!” “Sinabi mo pa mare! Ito namang si Bonna, pagka-tanga! May pinagaralan, dun pa nagpatira!” “Manang-mana sa nanay, may diploma, na nag-Japayuki pero umuwing wala kase nagpabuntis sa Kano!” “Tapos, yung Kano, nung nabuntis itong si Mareng Wilma sa Japan, bumalik sa Isteyts at di na nakabalik! Ngi-singkong-duleng walang idinulot! Tapos ano? Ayan, naulit na naman sa anak nya! “Tamo nga naman ang karma ano?” “Bwahahahaha” “Mare, grabe ka naman, nadisgrasya na nga yung bata eh!” “Oo nga mare!, nabuntis ng unggoy!” “Bwahahahaha” “Ano ngang pangalan ng matsing na iyon?” “Si Domeng ho.” Dan Joseph Lim

Seekers of Tranquility Romelyn Ariadna Itong


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Pamana ni Mayora Ang reyna ng bayan Tunay siyang Mapagkakatiwalaan sa kaban Siya’y hindi Sumisira sa pangako Palagi nalang Makatao at makabayan Hindi Nagdudunung-dunungan Sa bawat oras Kinakalinga ang mahirap Para umunlad ang buhay hindi Kayang manlamang Basahin mo ng pabalik. Upang makita tunay na pamana.

Ako ba o Ako Ika’y tumugon sa tawag ng responsibilidad, Naluklok ka sa ‘maayos’ na paraan, Umupo ka na may iisang layuni’t dahilan, Wika mo’y babaunin mo kamo sa iyong libingan, Ilang beses kang kinutya, hinusgaha’t pinagdudahan, Ano pa nga ba’t di nagpadaig ang ‘yong paninindigan, Sa korte, Ombudsman, Senado o kung saan man, Iyong pinamalas taglay mong kagalingan, Ngunit ano ngayon itong aking naririnig, Kaliwa’t kanan ika’y binansagang isang manlulupig, Maging mga inosente, di mo raw sinasanto, Kasama ng kanang kamay at alalay mong si Bato, Sa kadahilanang iyon, ang pagsuko’y akin ng binabalak, Pagkat sa aking pamilya, ako’y nagiisa lamang na anak, Alam ko namang ang pagdodroga’y isang kamalian, Ngunit di ko na napigilan nang aking nasubukan,

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Pero ngayon ako’y desidido na, Maghuhugas ako, magsisisi sa aking kasalanan, Ngunit ano ito, wari ako’y naunahan, Nariyan na ang mga gunman, sa labas aming pintuan, Dali-daling nagsipasok, sinugod ang aming tahanan, Wala ng pasubali, ako’y hinanap at tinutukan Dala ng aking takot, ako’y nagulumihanan, Napasigaw ng “Suko na ako, patawad na po!” Waring sila’y nabingi, ‘di ako pinakikinggan, Tuluy-tuloy sa paghampas at pagbitbit sa’king katawan, Makatigil ay dali-dali akong pinaluhod, piniringan, Isang malakas na galabag ang tumapos sa lahat, Ngayon ako ay napaisip, napatanong sa’king mga huling sandali, Sino nga ba ang tunay na nagkamali? Marahil di na nila ito bibigyan pa ng kasagutan, Sapagkat nag-iisa lang ang mali sa kanilang mga mata, Ako at Ako.

Glen Del Rosario Ervin Joshua Navarro


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Matching Socks You packed your bags again You growled at your mother again She warned you too many times But you’re sure you’ll leave this time She chased you down the street But you kept stomping your feet She forgot to wear matching socks again You forgot to give any fucks again You are tired You don’t know Where youth had ran and go And all your friends Pretend to know Where your mind wants to go You’ve seen too many breakdowns You’ve felt like it’s always been sundown But your mother makes sure to stick around But she has no idea of what you need right now So won’t you be so honest And tell it to your dearest That it’s oh so sweet To feel alone in a heartbeat

You have lied You’ve fallen behind You don’t know why you can’t breathe fine And all your friends Pretend to know Where your mind wants to go You try to figure out why it turned So different from what you learned You’ve been so fine in being alone Now your heart’s turned to stone And your mother tried to tell you That all these myths become true Like the way how time paced And how it left you without a trace So won’t you be so honest And tell it to your dearest That you are tired That you are hurt That you don’t know where you want to go And all your friends Please keep them in mind Let them know where you want to hide

Neal Andrei Lalusin

Rube Goldberg There are so many beautiful things around you sometimes they hurt – The song you just listened into that public transpo. The book cover you saw displayed on that empty book sale. The painting with P161.80 on its frame. The dreamcatcher hanging on the bakeshop’s entryway. The dance moves seven kids practiced to perfect. The clipped notes with short poems pinned on bulletin board. The smart remarks vandalized on newly painted wall. The aged men reading newspaper in that homey coffee shop. The child holding his mother’s pinky when they passed your way. The nicely-groomed pets giving their owners a daily emotional therapy. The yellow hat old lady tearing small pieces of bread to feed the ducks. The group of girls holding books on their way to school. The glowing red trees juxtaposed on each sides of endless pathway. The way the winds made a rustling music against the leaves. The initial carvings on the wooden bench which promised love and friendship. The lazy azure sky when you tilted your head upwards. The concentric circles that spill outwards across that placid, still pond. The reflection of your face on that still mirror. Yes, you. Katrina Malate

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Star's Cycle

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R.E.T.R.O. G.R.A.D.E Angeli Nicolas

“Of the myriads of stars above, that one is my favorite.” Wulf pointed me the sky full of stars. “Which one?” I asked. “You see the Orion above that big dipper?” He pointed up again and I looked up once more seeing only a black canvas with dusts unevenly brushed. “Honestly, no.” He chuckled. He grabbed my hand and directed it to what he pertained as his favorite star. “That one.” “Oh, that one?” I pointed a random star in the sky and sound as if I was amazed having finally spotted his star. He pulled my hand down and looked at me. “You still don’t see it, do you?” I sighed heavily. “C’mon Wulf, how can I recognize your star from all of the stars up there?” Another ‘star’ topic and surely I would jump off this roof. He chuckled a little and hugged me from the back. “Kai, do you know why that star is my favorite?” Okay, this man really wanted me to die. “Because only I could see it.” I looked at him and saw him looking up. I saw the reflections of stars in his eyes. “Are you kidding me?” Wow. This man is quite unbelievable. “Maybe it’s not yet time for you to see it, but I know, sooner you’ll recognize it as if it’s the brightest among them.” “Is there something wrong, Wulf?” I asked. He looked down at me and smiled. “Nothing, I just feel like this ambiance needs this kind of topic.” “Whatever.” “Kai, do you still remember our astrology class?” “Yeah? Why?” I was almost sure that there’s something wrong with this man. “Why are we talking about these stuffs anyway?” He neglected my question and instead asked, “you remember how stars die?” Okay, there’s something really going on. “Wulf wha—“ “Like everything else in our universe, a star has a lifetime. Stars are born in a cluster of gas and nebula, once the pressure builds up in the nebula it will bring dust and gas together

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and when it gets hot enough it can explode into a star.” “Where are we heading Wulf?” “Kai, sometimes you have to pay attention to the little things.” “You’re weird.” He laughed. “Kai, look at the stars. You see they have different sizes right?” I looked up and nodded. I’ve lost all my force to oppose him now. “Which do you think lasts longer, the bigger or the smaller?” “Common sense Wulf, the bigger of course.” “You passed our major, right?” “Yeah? Why?” “How come you don’t know that?” “What ‘that’?” “Larger stars burn up their hydrogen core much more quickly than small and medium sized stars. When that happens, there is an intense new process that begins, the fusion, remember?” I was almost embarrassed. “When the star doesn’t have any more hydrogen, it is like being starved. It slowly begins to collapse in on itself and, in the process, tries to use up all of its resources to create different kinds of materials. “ “Wow. No wonder you got flat one in our major. How do you remember all of those things, t’was six years ago?” “If you’re interested on a certain thing, you would remember it without even knowing.” “So, you remember me without even knowing?” Oh My. I think I’m flirting. He hugged me tighter. “No.” I removed his hands and snappily looked at him. I saw a quick smirk formed his lips. “No because I don’t have to remember you at all. You’re like a star that when I look up, it looks like they have been there forever, and you, feels like you’ve been in my heart for forever, and knowing that you’ll vanish any time of the day, I am certain and confident that you will be with me at the end of the day, just like the stars.” Tears weren’t a part of my script for tonight. But his words made me cry. It made me want to thank all of the stars above for giving me such a fine man. He wiped my tears and pulled me closer to him. “If you look at a dying star, you would see that the light actually pulsates and can get larger. This is because it is no longer stable and is using everything it has to try to keep from dying. “ Okay, back to the lecture. “This time it is creating materials including silicon, oxygen, and helium.

It will continue to create materials until it gets to one point. When it creates iron, it’s all over. Once the core turns to iron, it doesn’t have the ability to burn anymore.” Why do I have these feelings that there were hidden meanings within his words? “When a star can’t burn anymore, due to an iron core, it begins to collapse in on itself. The core continues to heat up to billions of degrees until it finally explodes. This is called a star going nova. This blasts out all of the material into space. “ “But they regenerate, right?” I asked him. I felt him nodding above my head. “Yeah, but it may take billions more years for all of that stuff to gather again to form a new nebula and then make new stars and eventually planets.” “At least they’ll be stars again.” “Yeah. Atleast“ *** Just like all of the stars that starved and eventually die, people also starve and meet its end. This time, it happened to the least person I wanted to suffer that. Wulf has Deep Vein Thrombosis. There were no indications at all, it started as a simple blood clot then blocked the flow of blood in his lungs then caused his death. That fast. I couldn’t even cry. I don’t feel lonely or depressed or whatever. I just feel empty. Like a part of me became dysfunctional. The night when he talked about the stars, he really meant something then, he wasn’t really talking about the actual stars, but it was him. “Like everything else in our universe, a star has a lifetime.” Every time he mentioned ‘star’ it pertains to him. “Which do you think lasts longer, the bigger or the smaller star?” “Larger stars burn up their hydrogen core much more quickly that small and medium sized stars. “ Wulf is such a big man. In any perspective of being big, his physique, his heart, his… all. Everything about him is overflowing. “When the star doesn’t have any more hydrogen, it is like being starved.” As much as he wanted to fight for his life, he was like a very thirsty man which a barrel of water could no longer quench his thirst. “…it slowly begins to collapse in on itself and, in the process, tries to use up all of its resources to create different kinds of materials. “ Without me even knowing, he is slowly collapsing, but he didn’t even think of his condition, he still tried to make his remaining days as positive as he always wanted.

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“If you look at a dying star, you would see that the light actually pulsates and can get larger.” I believe that every person has a light within them, it’s up to you how to interpret that light. For Wulf, his light was his aura, his aura that lightens up the mood of every person he encounters. And his light in his remaining days was superb, as if he was giving all he could for me, for the people he loved. “...this is because it is no longer stable and is using everything it has to try to keep from dying. “ He was no longer stable. He had used everything he had to keep himself from dying but there was still no use, God has a better plan for him I guess. “When a star can’t burn anymore, due to an iron core, it begins to collapse in on itself. The core continues to heat up to billions of degrees until it finally explodes. This blasts out all of the material into space. “ Like a rust slowly eating up a metal object, his body was also eaten up by some sort of darkness. Sooner than we thought, every part of him had already exploded. Not knowing where did it blasted off. “…it may take billions more years for all of that stuff to gather again to form a new nebula and then make new stars and eventually planets.” Stars regenerate. As well as him. It could take billions of years for that to happen, but at least, they’ll be stars again, he’ll be with me again. *** Night sky was dull. But when I met Wulf, night sky became the most enjoyable and gratifying place to look at. We could just stare at the sky for several hours. That was then. Now. Looking at the sky with little dusts spread across the black canvas feels lonely. Maybe the only thing that stargazing was enjoyable was because of Wulf at all. I watched the stars. It was strange. They seemed to have the same position when me and Wulf last saw them. Or am I the one who’s strange? How do I even remember their position? Have I gone nuts? “Whoa.” I uttered in amusement. I was able to find a constellation. A big dipper. “Wow.” Right at the top of the big dipper was the Orion. Why were they appearing all of a sudden? I lifted my arm and traced the constellations by my finger, and I almost dropped my jaw when a star above the Orion blinked once, then twice… and it was blinking continuously that made it the brightest among all of them. Then a sudden breeze blew and swirled around me, and a cool air stayed a while beside my ear as if whispering something. Then a tiny memory replayed in my mind which made me shiver. “Maybe it’s not yet time for you to see it,

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but I know, sooner you’ll recognize it as if it’s the brightest among them.” Wulf’s star. I’ve got chills running down my spine. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. I don’t know what’s that for. Maybe longing. Or joy. Or both. Then another surge of wind blew once more as if drying off my tears. But another wave of tears came streaming down my face. Wulf was dead, but he surely left me something that would be his legacy to me. The wind and the celestial bodies that witnessed everything we’ve shared. He’s no longer here, but he was here, he was everywhere. As long as Wulf’s star continues to twinkle, I would still hold on to him as he was holding on to me, I don’t have to worry during daytime, Wulf once said that stars vanished during day, but the sun is also a star. And at night time, he would be waiting for me, and yes, we would talk through constellations, the language of our universe.

Joan Estrella


Finding Hiraeth

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Just only the eyes. Inhaling an apprehensive breath, I pointed the tip of my brush flat along the canvas with excruciating slowness, too afraid that one simple stroke might ruin the entire portrait. I’ve been drawing portrait since I was thirteen, but unlike those faces I’ve seen - they all looked identical. Except this one. Make him stare back with vacant look. Make his features impassive like what you remember. I eyed the disturbing mixture of paint on my palette before dipping the brush and persisted working.

I was often told that there was certain beauty left that paintings couldn’t express. Perhaps, because those painters were amateurs. But in the first time that I had tilted my head to stare at the frescoes painted atop the ceiling of St. Peter’s Basilicawith an awful feeling of both admiration and envy- who are they to know any better? Who are they to know any good? So I did my best not to conceal the reality I was trying to show. Perhaps, I wasn’t good at making things more beautiful than they already are, but I was still attempting to make them real. I just painted what I see. I don’t really give any damn if they were ridiculously breathtaking. Hell, perfection seemed so unreal sometimes.

I knew how to appreciate. My father taught me to better appreciate. Make his eyes real. I examined the portrait. “Beauty is entertaining. That was given. It wasn’t even hard to love. Show me its darkness.” I smiled as I stared at my work, mentally comparing the picture before me from those features I could stare at before, close at hand. I knew I still remember. Then what do your fear? You had painted anyone’s features before. Why are you so afraid you cannot remember his? Dammit. Five years. It was only five fucking years. We’ve been together for almost seven years, eight months, and twenty-one fucking days. How in the hell would I fucking forget the very thing I knew so damn well? Tilting my head upward, I fixed my gaze above and tried collecting my thoughts.

Seven years. Together. Five years. Alone. I dished my phone out and scanned his messages.

R109SB. 15H. WILL WAIT. WHERE ARE YOU? CALL BACK. PLEASE. JUST LET ME SEE YOU. BEFORE YOU LEAVE, LET ME SEE YOU. PLEASE. THOUGHT YOU GO OFF ALONE. I CAN’T FIND YOU. I UNDERSTAND. JUST. JUST TAKE CARE OKAY? I LIVE YOU. Scrolling down, my eyes froze upon seeing my one, simple response. DON’T CALL. I WILL COME BACK. YOU KNEW ME. I DO ALWAYS COME BACK.

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Eyeing the unfinished portrait, I slumped lazily and I let my gaze landed on his epitaph. ‘Here lies a father and a traveler. The lost land will be his refuge.’ I must leave. --Past ten. Father was crutched down the room’s carpeted floor that night as he kept connecting dots on the vast map without acknowledging my presence. Perhaps, he never noticed. Not until he spoke - still without giving me a glance - to come near him but forbidding me to touch the map. I only nodded, and actually haven’t bother to with a fear that I might torn it whole. I was aware of that fact, even in my very young age, that I was good at ruining everything even I haven’t intended to.

never stayed in one place for too long. He liked it that way. We liked it that way. My father loved to travel. He was so fond of it so much that I spent my childhood years fearing that his deep affection for traveling would tempt him of all those afar places and make him forget that he was only traveling, and there was somehow still a place waiting for his return, and that one night he would come back when we are all deep asleep.

That certain map was personally drawn. By grandpa, he said. So it means so much for him. My father said that it will lead his father to a place he wished to go, even it will cost him not to ever come back. I asked him about my grandfather, and why he spoke so dearly about him and his map. Smiling back at me, my father just lowered the thin thread on his gargantuan study table and lifted me up.

Why the hell is wrong with me? I went here to see him, not to act myself agitated knowing my father would come back, after so long years of silently hoping he really would.

You should sleep, my lost pirate, he said, before walking me back to my room.

Gripping the knob, I pushed the door wide open and roamed around the entire room, wondering how things went here during that five years of my absence. He always had his standard, dull and obsessively precise way of keeping his predetermined, organized scheme. But now, he doesn’t seem to care.

Closing my eyes, I mentally plotted the dotted image in mind in the best form I could muster, but it was vague and some of its pieces remained in blur. Travel. As much as you can. As far as you can. As long as you can. Life’s not meant to be lived in one place just once. He used to say it every night, when he quizzed me of the world’s biggest oceans and longest bridges and most populated cities and highest skyscrapers before asking me of the country’s capitals I never knew existed.

He was a great fan of world’s best sceneries, even he hasn’t had too much luxuries to personally see many. He loved geography, and we

He didn’t. I never fell asleep that night though. And he never come home. --I brushed my hand on my unruly, unbounded, unstyled hair before briefly closing my eyes.

Here we go again. Since when have you been so bloody melodramatic? Get a fuckin’ move on.

I smiled. Did he have a sudden change of mind? Heading my way toward his room, I opened the door and frowned. Where is he? I was about to call him when I suddenly heard footsteps and instantly turned around. I stared. ‘Lemuria.’ Just that. One word. And until now, I wonder how he can say my name with so much familiarity even I don’t know how. Tossing the thick wad of brochures atop the counter, I smiled. ‘Hello, boyfri-‘ I stopped mid-sentence when he pulled me into a

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‘It’s you. It is really you.’ Without even knowing why, I felt a sharp pang of pain as I wrapped my arms around. Ignore. Irrelevant. ‘I missed you. So damn much it hurts.’ I closed my eyes. Not like I did, that even thinking about it drives me insane because I know this is my choice. I said nothing. ‘I tried to find someone else,’ he admits, ‘because I thought you wouldn’t come back.’ I always do, don’t I? ‘I just want to be honest with you.’ Without letting go from his embrace, it took him a while to continue.

‘Do you know that your name means ‘lost land’?’ I heard him chuckled. ‘Thinking just that, I realized that your name speaks so much about you and I don’t even know something so significant like that. You told once that there’s something missing in your life, and you said you feel alone even you’re with me. But you know, it seems a lot more of me feeling lost and I don’t even know how I could finally reach you. Because you’re always slipping through my hands before I even realized.’ Slowly, his arms loosened its grip, letting me go. ‘I won’t make you choose between me or your freedom. I know your independence means so much for you. So I am the one stepping behind.’ My face went blank. ‘I will let you go.’ -- This felt happened before. I swore I wouldn’t become like you. Letting someone so important to me just go. Putting the bouquet of white lilies, I read the inscription twice. I choked a sob. ‘I swore I wouldn’t forgive you.’ But you’re still my father. And we both failed to come back home. Katrina Malate

50 Steps Away Ethelou Sumague


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Sa Pamanang Walong Letra Kabataan Maging matatag ka Sapagkat panaho’y kay bilis mag-iba Kumapit, tumingala sa Kanya Maraming nariyan, ngunit Siya’y nag-iisa Kabataan Hindi ka lamang salita Ibangon mo naman ang abang bansa Ikaw pa rin ang pag-asa, ikaw ang tapos at simula May saysay ang mga pangaral nilang matatanda Kabataan Huwag matigas ang ulo Katamaran ay pigilan mo Sa pagkakamali nila’y matuto Buhay ng iba ay igalang mo Kabataan Wala sa Social Media ang digmaan At ikauunlad nitong sambayanan Harapin mo ang katotohanan Tumayo ka’t sa buhay ay patas na lumaban Kabataan TAYO ang pamana ng nakaraang di dapat malimot Matuto tayong sumayaw, tugtog ma’y masalimuot Para sa pangarap, tayo’y magbuklod! Kabataan, lumaban, sa hirap ay sumugod!

Dan Joseph Lim

Eulogy “Here lies the body of my beautiful apprentice, whose body I shattered through my words, and rebuilt them through my hands. Whose mind lost because of my carelessness. Rest in peace now my intelligent scholar, who I took for granted. His eerie knowledge of the fiery pits of hell and his dream of lying in heavens will be missed. I hope that dream is now fulfilled. “I will always remember the times he looked at me in the hallways of this church with all curiousness. And through all those times, he always asked the right question that got me shaking. He knew what to do with just a look in the eye. I can always see his eagerness to ‘obey.’ “And of course I will never forget his tears whom I comforted. ‘It was too much,’ he said. I’ve always told him to take it slow, don’t rush things up. Just like the times he used to run across the rooms too fast and he’ll fall down and scrape his knee when we played ‘chase.’ I’ve always told him to be careful, especially when I’m not around. The way his voice caressed the hallways just like the candles lit up the altars at night. The way his giggles echoed through the staircases, the way his words pierced my ears as he fell down while running. Oh those were the good times. “Oh my little boy, why did he have to leave so early? I blame myself for my carelessness. If I just took a little more time to look over him, to comfort him, I wouldn’t have to be conducting this mass. Forgive me my little scholar, I shouldn’t have been so... reckless. I should have been more cautious. What’s to be of a priest if he can’t take care of a fu— pardon me. “So rest in peace beautiful apprentice, whose body I rebuilt through my softest touches and destroyed through my roughest thrusts, who because of me, his smiles evaded. For I’ve raised him like my own, and held him like he was my own blood. I knew every mile of his body, his norths and souths, places that make him go round. For I was one with him and him with me, now I’ve lost a part of mine. For his grief satisfied my pleasure, and my pleasure heightened his grief. “Rest in peace my beautiful apprentice. The little boy who I prayed for, the little boy who I preyed upon.” Neal Andrei Lalusin

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60 Minutes to Midnight 04:20 ‘I-I’m dead?’ ‘Mmm. Maybe, you shouldn’t inject that pent-up drug into your veins for temporary comfort.’ ‘B-But… I have no choice. T’was the only thing who accepted me – no, I’m wrong. My fans love me.’ ‘Loved, doll. You’re dead. Everything about you is past tense now.’ ‘This isn’t far! Of all people, why me? I deserve to live!’ ‘Why is that? Why do you- a pathetic woman – deserve to live more than a seven-year-old girl with cancer? More than a seventy-year-old woman with five children and eleven grandkids who will miss her until the day she died? Why do you think you’re so damn special?’ ‘But-‘ ‘No answer, doll? ‘I’ve been here since time immemorial, and yet I don’t understand how humans somehow idolized species like you as Gods while dismissing another as animals. And if you were loved by millions I now understand how humans really need saving. They idolized celebrities as superiors while you are addicted to fame, devoted to money, obsessed to beauty, submissive to drugs.

‘why are you crying?’ ‘How-How are you so cruel?’

‘I’m not cruel, Miss Self-Important. You’re just whiny and desperate and I find your lack of smarts intolerable. You were loved as a sex icon and yet you felt utterly alone, justifying you only as object for their desire but you can’t complain, can you?’ ‘Because everyone admires and loves and envies everything I have!’

19:35

‘Loved, doll. Past tense, remember?’

36 ‘You’re a sick puppy.’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I said you’re a sick little shit. Did I happen to stutter?’ ‘What gives you the right-‘

‘No, buddy boy. You did not just say that. What gives you the right to think that you can kill millions of people? Women, children, men. You even wrote a fucking book featuring the world’s most notorious serial killer of all time. What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?’ ‘Because I am better than every single one of those slimy shits. They knew it too. I could see it in their own eyes.’ ‘Uh-uh, sure. But the thing is that you’re just as dead as they are. And, while your victims were hailed as brave and valiant and beloved when they died, your supporters and friends talked of how you were a monster.’ ‘And?’ ‘You have to be bloody kidding me. I’m here- trying to give you some of wisdom, which I don’t need to say anyway- and you have the balls to say that little word? Do you know who I am? What I can do? Who the hell you’re pissing off? ‘I can make maggots eat your eyelids for the next millennia, shithead. Learn some respect.’ ‘Who the fuck are you and why should I respect you? I just died, I’m the one who matters here.’


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‘Yes, you did just die. And I am the one that reaped your withered and black soul. I am the harbinger of the end. I am death and I can and will destroy you.’ ‘And who are you to decide this? Who are you to decide who lives and dies? Who are you to decide whether I end up in Heaven or Hell?’ ‘You have to be fucking with me. I asked you that question just a while ago, shits for brain. Why should you be the only one that determines someone’s fate? ‘You’re not the only one in the universe.’ ‘But I should be.’ ‘Alright, dumbass. Listen to me now and listen to me good before I kicked your sorry ass and send you on your merry way.’ ‘Explain what?’ ‘Everything on earth is connected. Intertwined. Every bug, every leaf, every person all have something to do with each other. When you killed those million people, you killed yourself ten times over. On this planet, you cannot harm any living creature without harming yourself in the process for one reason alone.’ ‘And why’s that?’

‘Just because, my demented little mass murderer, just because.’

23:00

So I didn’t cry. But then, I left my diary- my only friend- and when we got in the camp everything started to hurt. And I couldn’t breathe.’ ‘And?’ ‘And then everything went black and I woke up here with you. Who are you, mister? Where am I?’ ‘I’m death, my child. And you’re wherever you want to be. Your papa won’t be here for a while.’

‘So I’m dead?’ ‘Yes, you are. But you are also brave and strong, without a doubt.’ ‘And that’s good?’ ‘Yes, sweetheart. That’s very good.’ ‘So I must go. Will you go with me?’ ‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t.’ ‘Okay, but before I go, can I ask you a question, Mister?’ ‘Go ahead.’ ‘Why do people do bad things? Why do they hurt each other?’ ‘Because they can, sweetie. And when they can, they will.’ ‘I still believe that people are really good at heart.’

‘Perhaps, my child. And you should be proud because you’ve been an inspiration to all. You see, years from now, everyone will hear your story, and you will touch their hearts with your beliefs. You’ve been brave and strong, and because of that, you’ve been awarded.’ Katrina Malate

‘Where am I?’ ‘Where do you want to be?’ ‘With Papa and Peter and my diary.’ ‘When’s the last time you saw them?’

‘When we got off the train and the soldiers separated us. Papa and the boys went in one direction, we in another. I was forced to stay with another lady- I don’t know her but she assured me we will be fine.’ ‘What happened next?’ ‘The soldiers led us to a building for showers and some of the other people were crying. But I wasn’t. papa always told me to be strong.

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Tatlong Mukha ng Disisyete

I. Ako ay mula sa dinastiyang hari sa pulitika Aking mga gawi, agaw atensyon sa madla Sa pagbisita ko sa palasyong palakad ni lolo Kuhang larawan ko, sa tabi may ginagalang na sagisag ng gobyerno Ito raw ay isang malaking insulto Usap-usapa’y di ako magagalaw dahil apo ng presidente Tawagin mo ako sa pangalang Isabelle Duterte II. Isang dalagitang kabilang sa alta siyudad Gamit ang social media at balita, kaanak ko’y pinalad Sa paglipas ng apatnapu‘t walong oras, kanilang matutuklas Ako siyang ‘di nakadalo sa hapunan, siyang hindi matagpuan Dahilan ng pagkawala ko’y di mapagtanto Hanggang mahagip ng litrato sa San Pablo Mentalidad ko’y kinukwestiyon ng ibang tao Sino kayo, ano bang alam ninyo para husgahan ako Ako si Ica Policarpio III. Galing naman ako sa pamilyang simpleng may kaya Na minsan mapera, minsa’y isang kahig isang tuka Sa pagbaba ng araw, di sukat akalaing ako’y papanaw Sa kamay ng mga kawatang akin pang tinitingala Sa pag abot ng baril sabay sigaw “takbo bata” Gulong gulo pero tumakbo ako para sa buhay ko Tila isang teleseryeng sinubaybayan ng sambayanan Ngunit lipas na ang panahon, hustisya pari’y naroon Nakatanim sa bundok ng collateral damage ng madugong termino ni Digong Tandaan mo ako sa pangalang Kian Delos Santos

ASAS

Germaine Aviles

Chasing Chastity John Phaul Tumambing


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Bukas

Sana panaginip na lang lahat ng ito. Sana mali ako sa mga nalaman ko.

--Ramdam ko ang paghawi ni Papa sa mga kurtina ng kwarto. Dama ko ang init ng araw na dumampi sa katawan ko at tumama sa aking mga mata. Umaga na. Isang araw na naman ang magdadaan at aking dadaanan. Pero sabi ko sa sarili ko. 5 or 10 minutes more. Gigising na talaga ako. Ako’y kalimot at naglakbay muli. Marso 21, 2010 Mula sa asuteya ng aming bahay kitang kita ko ang pagpasok ng maraming tao. Ilan sa kanila ay may dalang regalo bumabati ng maligayang kaarawan. “Maligayang kaarawan Hon. Sana nagustuhan mo yung surprise ko” “Hindi lang gusto. Gustong gusto ko. Halos lahat sila nandito. Mga taong malalapit sa puso ko. Salamat Hon. Nagustuhan ko talaga. I love you.” “I love you, too” Isang matamis na halik mula kay Mama at Papa ang nakita ko “Nasan nga pala sila?” “Naku yung mga anak mo puntahan mo. Nandoon sa kusina. Hindi magkaintindihan sa pag-aayos ng giveaways para sa mga bisita. Naramdaman ko noon ang tila umaapaw na kaligayan at pagmamahal. Na kung may isa mang bagay na gusto kong manahin mula kina Papa at Mama, yun ay ang sobra nilang pagmamahal. Pagmamahal sa kapwa, pagmamahal nila sa isa’t isa at sa aming mga anak nila. Tinawag ko si Papa mula sa itaas. Isang malakas na sigaw ang ibinato ko pero bakit tila di niya ako naririnig.--Napalalim ata ang pagkakaidlip ko. Ang haba na ng nilakbay ng kaluluwa ko mula sa pagkakaidlip na iyon. Kailangan ko nang bumangon. Imumulat ko na sana ang aking mga mata ng biglang...

Hunyo 25, 2011 Kaharap ko ang isang malaking pintuan. Mula roon, rinig na rinig ko ang mga iyakan. Hindi ako maaaring magkamali, boses iyon ng mga kapatid ko. Dinig ko ang mga hagulgol nila habang sinasambit ang pangalan ni Mama. “Ma, bakit? Bakit ninyo ginawa yun?” Pero rinig ko din ang boses ni Papa at boses ng isang babae. Tinig mula sa kabilang dulo ng pasilyo, nagtatalo. Lalapitan ko sana si Papa para tanungin kung sino ang babaeng iyon pero bago pa man ako makalapit, umalis na ang babae at si Papa naman ay mabilis na tumakbo papunta sa silid kung nasaan ang mga kapatid ko. Dumaan siya sa harap ko na parang ‘di ako nakita. Mabilis niyang binuksan ang pinto at hindi rin nagtagal narinig ko ang kanyang iyak. Binabanggit ang pangalan ni Mama. Papasok na sana ako ng pinto upang alamin ang nangyayari ngunit… --Isang masamang panaginip ba ito? Bakit bumabalik sa akin ang mga alaala ng noon. Una, kaarawan ni Papa. Pangalawa, ang pagpanaw ni Mama. Tama na ang bangungot na ito. Kailangan ko na talagang bumangon. Pero ano itong nangyayari bakit ‘di ako makagalaw. Ni hindi ko maimulat ang aking mga mata. Pinipilit kong igalaw ang anumang parte ng aking katawan pero ‘di ko magawa. Maya-maya pa narinig ko ang boses ni Lira. “Pa, kamusta si Ria?” “Ganun pa rin tulad ng dati.” “Ria, si Ate Lira ito. Ilang linggo ka na dito sa ospital. Ayaw mo pa bang bumangon. Ayaw mo pa bang umuwi? Gising ka na pls. “Lalaban ang kapatid mo Lira. Wag kang mag-alala. Pasasaan pa ba’t matatapos din ang mga problemang dumarating sa ating pamilya. Malay mo bukas makalawa gumising na sya.” Alam ko. Ramdam ko. Hindi ito kabilang sa mga mahahabang panaginip ko. Tunay ito. Nasa tabi ko sina Papa at Lira. Nasa ospital ako. Di makagalaw, di makamulat. Pero bakit? Kailan pa? Anong nangyayari? Bakit ako bumabalik sa mga bagay na nakaraan na? Hunyo 24, 2011

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Napunta ako sa loob ng isang kwarto. Sa hitsura at ayos nito, silid ito nina Papa at Mama. Maya-maya pa bumukas ang pinto at narinig ko ang mga boses nila. Tahimik sa buong bahay at naririto ako sa harap ng pag-aaway nina Papa at Mama. “Nababaliw ka na ba Clarita?” “Bakit? Hindi ba’t ikaw at ang anak mo ang pinagmulan ng mga problemang ito?” “Anak natin, Clarita. Anak natin si Ria. Hanggang ngayon ba hindi mo pa rin ako napapatawad?” “Mahal ko si Ria. Alam mo yan. Minahal ko sya, tinanggap at inalagaan. Itinuring na mula akin pero ikaw… Paano ko papatawarin ang taong paulitulit akong niloloko? Hindi ako tanga Fernan. Hindi ako tanga. Alam kong hanggang ngayon kinakalantari mo pa rin yang babae mo.” Doon bumalik ang aking alaala. Alaala marahil bago ako humantong sa mahabang bangungot na ito Hulyo 28, 2012 “Ria,gabi na, May iba ka pa bang bibilhin o gustong kanin o tara na?” “Sasabay ka ba sa amin o una na kami? “Ria!” “Ha?” “Tara na, Ria.” “Sige na. Mauna na kayo may nakalimutan lang ako sa loob.” Labas masok lang sa tainga ko ang boses ng mga kaibigan ko habang nakatingin ako sa isang parte ng mall kung saan naroon si Papa. Hawak hawak niya ang kamay ng isang babae. Natatandaan ko na. Yun yung babaeng nakita kong kausap nya malapit sa morge na pinagdalhan namin kay Mama. Umalis na ang mga kaibigan ko habang ako naman ay nagmamadaling sinundan sina Papa hanggang sa labas ng mall. Pagkalabas ko ng pintuan, nakita kong nasa kabilang parte na sila ng kalye. Naglalakad. Nagmamadali akong tumakbo upang abutan sila hanggang sa isang malakas na busina at nakakasilaw na ilaw ng bus ang nakapagpahinto sa akin. Hunyo 24, 2011 “Mamaya na natin ito pag-usapan, parating na ang mga anak mo.” “Sa ganyan ka naman magaling. Ang takasan ang mga problema natin, ang

pagtakpan ang mga kalokohan mo.” “Tama na Clarita. Saka na natin ito pag-usapan” “Hindi na ako makakapayag. Sasabihin ko na sa mga anak natin ang totoo.” Natatakot na ako. Ano itong nangyayari. Naguguluhan na ako. Tama na. Tama na. Gisingin nyo na po ako mula sa bangunot na ito. Tama na!!! Hanggang sa naririnig kong tumutunog ang telepono ni Mama. “Ria anak. Saang banda na kayo?” “Ma, Mukhang di pa po kami makakauwi ngayon. Malakas po kasi ang hangin mula pa kaninang madaling araw. Mas makakabuti raw po na bukas na kami umuwi sabi ni Mang Toto.” “ Kung delikadong pumalaot, mas mabuti ngang dyan muna kayo. Mag-iingat kayo ng Ate at mga kapatid mo.” “Opo Ma. Love you po” “Love you too Anak. Mag-iingat ha.” “Bukas na bukas rin sasabihin ko na sa mga anak natin ang totoo. “Sige subukan mo. Subukan mo at papatayin kita.” “Hindi mo na ako matatakot Fernan. Ang tagal ko nang nagpapakatanga. Ang tagal kong natatakot. Oras na para malaman ng mga anak mo ang totoo.” Lumabas ng kwarto si Mama at nagtungo sa kusina. Maya-maya pa kasunod na niya si Papa, dala ang isang lubid at iniikot ito sa leeg ni Mama. “Hindi na ba talaga kita matatakot… kung ganoon mas mabuti pang mamatay ka na.” Nakita ko ang pamumula ng mga mata ni Papa ng mga sandaling iyon habang hawak hawak ang lubid sa leeg ni Mama. Pipilit kong hawakan ang mga kamay ni Papa at piligan siya pero di ko magawa. Hanggang nakita kong nakatumba na si Mama, nakahiga at wala nang buhay. Ayoko na talaga. Tama na. Gisingin nyo na ako. Ayoko na. --“Pa, tingnan nyo po lumuluha si Ria.” “Tumawag ka ng doctor Lira. Gising na ang kapatid.

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45 Salamat sa Diyos, Anak gising ka na. Miss na miss ka na namin.� Nakatingin ako sa mga lumuluhang mata ni Papa pero hindi yun ang nakikita ko. Ang nakikita ko ay ang kanyang mapupulang mata habang pinapatay ang baabeng buong buhay ko ay inakala kong ina ko. Hindi pa rin ako makagalaw at iniisip ang mahabang bangungot na nangyari. Haluhalong emosyon sa loob ng iisang katawan. Yan ang nararamdaman ko. Galit, pagkalito, panghihinyang. Hindi ko na alam kung anong gagawin ko. Hindi ko na alam kung paano pa muling mabuhay sa mundo kong puno ng kasinungalingan. Sana panaginip na lang lahat ng ito. Sana mali ako sa mga nalaman ko.

Carmella Vibal

Pusong Inukit sa Punong Mangga

Bukas ang puso para sa mga alaalang minsang napakawalan na. Nakagapos ako. Hindi makatakas sa anino ng kamusmusan sa mga pangarap na sabay nating pinulot, pinagtagpi-tagpi pinantasya. Nakakapit ako . Sa mga pangako na sabay nating binigkas sa ibabaw ng matarik na bundok, saksi ang ulap ang halaman ang ulan. Nakapiit ako. Pilit na kumakawala ngunit ayaw palayain ng damdaming mitig sa pag-asa, paniniwala pangungulila. Samahan natin na hinubog ng panahon minsan mang sinubok ng pagkakataon ay nais ko paring ibalik gaya ng kahapon. Ngunit kung sakaling mapagod ang isip at tuluyang pakawalan ang mga alaala, wag mong kakalimutan. Bukas ang puso para sa mga alaalang minsang napakawalan na. Glen Del Rosario

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Flowers for November

I can still remember the day we said farewell That was when I promised to you I will see you someday There in the hill when I last felt your hand Oh, should I say not really the end but just for a while I pledge by the river, to visit you during November And as a gift, I’ll give you petals and fragrance So when December came, I made lively Poinsettia grow Its red shinning color reminds me of your warm embrace Another year passed yet everything was still fresh In my garden of devotions, I took care of Carnations For January has to offer me something better and worth to remember All to give you back your undying love and continuous fascination The month of hearts soon walked through my home Dancing with the Iris I kept dearly on February To remind you of the friendship and faith we had eternally Ah, I already miss your tender soul, cold yet burning with passion When March came, a big parade was held in town down the valley Different colors burst through the music echoing the smiles of many When I came home after, I showered in the ground the seeds of Daffodils To bring cheerfulness in the doorstep even if we’re separated in miles April waved hello to me, like a child running in raptured youth Spring poured its sunshine, reflecting the golden rays in my hair

I sowed Daisies in my backyard under the summer glare To get back the laughter you missed when the world turned you down Clouds dripped the rain softly in my rooftop, can you hear it too? The sound of May whispering in the ears of my beloved bloom There you can see my Lilies sprouting from sweetness and humility Resembling the purity in your heart you expressed towards me Remember the story you once told me? About Aphrodite’s affection she bestowed to Eros sincerely So as to always make you remember, in June I scattered Roses Beauty of Venus reflecting your eyes like a love of a Goddess My birthday came, but you were not there It was last July, I hope you don’t forget I kept some Larkspur and displayed few in the windowsill So when you visit home, you’ll know an open heart is waiting for you still August soon arrived, we were going halfway of the year already I planted stems of Gladiola before the road so you’ll see I hope you’ll also realize your own strength and integrity Through the petals I want to tell you how you built me brightly Aunt Matilda told me that she loved the flowers, too So I gave her some Asters I planted for September Symbolizing the elegance I saw in your actions In two months I can’t wait to give it to you, too Mom and I went to the church on the first Sunday of October I saw the Marigolds we used to collect when we go together I felt bad for its stems to be cut in half so I asked for the seeds And hide it under the layers of out yard to spread its grace along the grid November finally came, like my promise I’ll give you my gift I gathered the flowers, two for each kind to keep And made a perfect bouquet overflowing with the stories of love, forever I’ll place it above your graveyard to give back your sacrifices, my father. Maricris Santilles

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Air Between There is air Between the ground and the sky The birds fly through As your eyes shoot across the view But his eyes is set deep On to you You’re watching the sunset over a lake It’s funny How it feels like it’s just a cycle of light and dark Over and over And you think today’s just another part of the cycle As you see him smiling With his eyes so focused On you As if he’s seeing a wondrous light in front of him You take in everything This might be the last Of the blissful moments you have He opens his mouth “I...” He was about to say something He retracted You know so well what he’s about to say And he knows so well that you feel it too But you already made up your mind You want to hear the wedding bells thaw As your cold heart finally warms up By your first kiss as husband and wife You want to feel how it feels To be complete Because you know part of you was never there in the first place You want to smell freshly baked cake that you made Just for your tenth anniversary

You want to see your eldest son graduate Throw up a party With all the beer and all the laughter With all the youth in your son The one you never saw in yourself The one you want to keep if you ever become a father The one you hid in the bookshelf You want to see your grandchildren running up to you Smiling Oh, you too as well They see you on the front seat They see you with all your front teeth Sitting on a porch Reading the news Wondering over your growth As you watch your wife’s wrinkly skin Never affected the reason why your love never wore thin But there is air Between both of your faces Air that divides and holds you back from each other Air you both breathe Air you’re both thankful for This air that keeps you alive You A boy Who’s tired of running Who’s waiting for the perfect world to step into You think of everything you wanted Of all the things you have planned All of them You’ll never experience If you choose him But you’re here Watching his hungry eyes His trembling hands His desperate grip

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51 As he tries to hold on to hope

While you try to let go of him You swallow a breath You feel it down your throat It hovers over your stomach As if it’s trying to push it back And spit the words you’ve always wanted to say “I...” You were about to say something You retracted He’s planted on the ground Patienly anticipating The same exact secrets you both want to confess While you’re waiting for the right words to come up “I--” You can’t finish the sentence “I--” --Love you too But that’s not what you needed to say “I...” . . . “... can’t, I’m sorry” There is air Between the ground and the sky As the moon is already awake You can still see him through the night It was funny How it’s not just a cycle of light and dark No, not today You want to escape this choice that will make a difference As you see him smiling... or rather, trying to With his eyes so focused On the ground, as if his heart fell and made a crack You tell him one thing

That this is might be the last For a man like you can’t be seen Like the way you know you’ve always been He opens his mouth “I...” . . . “I don’t care.” You were about to say something You retracted. Neal Andrei Lalusin

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Sorrowful Arrows

Kabalyero ng Gabi Christian Vanguardia

A tempest of love has been born, After Darkness and Light, some says I came fourth, Others argued, I am the fruit of War and Beauty, I, glittering with gold wings, arose With my bow, I cast thy love, With my arrow, I give you thy half, You’ll forever be charmed with each other, Love wins again, envious folks won’t bother Years and years hereafter, I’ve been told by my mother Aphrodite, Find psyche, shoot an arrow and make her suffer, Have her smitten with the most horrendous creature, I found her and thought that it would be easy, But as I reach for my quiver, A tinge of sadness came over, She and I could be happier, I do not care about my mother, “You can live your life the happiest, In the day you might not witness me, But on night, I’ll shower you my affection as husband” Little did I know, Not only my mother became jealous of Psyche, She had two sisters, insecure and spiteful, Now, convinced of disobeying me, She broke our pact, dawdled in my face, “That woman is no good I told you”, It was my mother, again, Despite being resentful, her words are true, I loved Psyche, I fulfilled all her wishes, But she betrayed the one thing I desired, Maybe I can succeed on other love stories, But not mine, Ervin Joshua Navarro

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Ang Kwento at Kwenta ng mga Anak ni Maria

“INAYYYYY!” “Inaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, si Angelito nakalunok ng piso!” Napabalikwas nang bangon si Maria nang marinig ang sigaw ng anak mula sa labas ng kaniyang silid. Nagmamadali siyang lumabas at hinanap ang pinagmumulan ng tinig, hindi alintana ang magulong buhok, gusot na suot na daster, at muta na tumatabing sa paningin niya buhat sa kaniyang pagkakatulog. Nakita niya sa kusina ang pitong anak na nakalupagi sa sahig habang pinapainom ng tubig ang bunsong anak niya na si Angelito. Nagmamadali niyang nilapitan ang mga ito. “Huwag mong painumin ng tubig, Arabel!” sigaw niya sa anak na panganay. Nangangatal ang kamay na binuhat niya ang anak at ikinalong sa kaniyang hita at may kadiinang hinagod ang likod upang sa gayon ay baka sakaling isuka nito ang pera. “Inay, sabi ni kuya Manuel, ayos lang daw po na makalulon ng piso dahil kapag idinumi daw po iyon ay magiging limang piso.” Napapikit na lamang siya sa sinabi nang tatlong taong-gulang na anak.“Diyos ko, kaya na po ang bahala sa mg anak ko,” mahina niyang usal. “Paano nakakuha ng barya ang kapatid mo Arabel?” nanghihina niyang tanong habang hagod-hagod pa rin sa likod ang anak. “Pinapakain ko po si Lito tapos hindi ko po namalayan na nalaglag po pala yung piraso ng tapa sa sahig, pinulot po niya. Nakita ko na lang po na may isinubo po siyang barya, nang tignan ko e wala na sa bibig niya.” Hindi niya alam kung magagalit ba siya o maiiyak sa mga kaganapan sa bahay nila, wala pa siyang sapat na tulog dahil hanggang alas dos ng madaling araw siyang nagtahi ng mga damit na gagamitin sa kasal ng kaniyang pamangkin, at heto ang sasalubong sa umaga niya.

Timyas ng Nagdaang Alaala John Michael Librero

Maya-maya pa ay dinalahit nang ubo ang isang taong gulang na si

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57 Jose at nagsuka kasama ang pisong barya.

“Sinungaling ka kuya! Sabi mo magiging limang piso!” sigaw ni Leo sa nakatatandang kapatid. Napapabuntong hininga na lamang siya. Normal na sa isang biyuda ang mawalan ng oras para sa sarili, lalo na siyang pinamanahan ng pitong hindi pangkaraniwang mga anak ng asawa niyang matapos sumakabilang bahay ay sumakabilang buhay naman. Hindi biro ang hirap na pinagdadaanan nilang pamilya dahil tunay na mahirap ang buhay lalo na at mag-isa siyang kumakayod para maitaguyod ang kaniyang pitong anak. Mabuti na lamang at sa isang taon ay magtatapos na ang kaniyang panganay na si Arabel sa kursong pagtuturo at harinawa ay makapagtrabaho na ito at matulungan ang mga kapatid nito. Mabuti sana kung lahat ng anak niya ay kasing sipag at tiyaga ni Arabel, ngunit ang sumunod dito na si Manuel na disinwebe anyos na ay kasalukuyan pa ring nasa sekondarya. Hindi daw ito bumabagsak sa mga asignatura nito, sadya lamang daw mahal nito ang eskwelahang pinapasukan at ayaw nang umalis doon, ngunit alam niyang mahina ang kakayanan ng anak niya kaya hindi ito nakakapasa, at isa pa, malimit siyang ipatawag ng guro nito at maraming isinusumbong na kung anoanong bagay, inihihingi na lamang niya ng paumanhin ang anak. Pangatlo naman si Luisa, hindi ito nag-aaral dahil ipinanganak itong pipi, nag-aral ito ng elementarya ngunit hindi na nito iyon tinapos dahil madalas itong tuksuhin ng mga kaeskwela nito. Ngunit sa lahat ng pipi na nakilala niya, ito ang pinakamaingay. Nagpupumilit itong umimik sa pamamagitan ng mga huni at ungol, dahil umaasa ito na baka sakaling isang araw, unti-unting may mabuong mga titik at salita na mamutawi mula sa mga ungol nito. Kaya pinapabayaan na lamang niya ito dahil ayaw niyang sirain ang munting hiling ng anak. Sinundan naman ni Luisa ay si Juliano, nasa ikatlong antas na ito ng sekondarya. Nararamdaman niyang sa lahat ng mga anak niya ay ito ang magdadala ng asenso sa kanila. Simula elementarya hanggang sa kasalukuyan ay hindi ito nawala sa pagiging pers onor. Taon taon ay umaakyat siya ng entablado dahil sa anak niyang ito, ito ang isa sa mga

dahilan kung bakit patuloy niyang pinagsusumikapan ang pag-aaral ng kaniyang mga anak, dahil iba ang may alam, iba ang edukado. Pang-lima naman niyang anak ay si Kiray, labing-dalawang taon pa lamang ito ngunit akala mo ay dalagang-dalaga na dahil punong-puno ng kolorete palagi ang buong katawan. Minsan nga ay umuwi ito sa bahaay nila na halos hindi na niya makilala dahil sa kapal ng mik-up sa mukha nito. Nang pagalitan niya ito hinggil sa paglalagay ng mg kolorete sa katawan, sinabi nito na ginagawa lamang nito iyon para may magkagusto sa ditong mayamang lalaki at ng sa gayon ay makalipat na sila ng tirahan na higit na maganda at malaki.Doon niya naintindihan nang lubusan ang anak ngunit sinasabi rin niya na may tamang panahon para doon. Ang sumunod naman dito ay si Leo, tatlong taon na ito ngunit tila tatlumpung taon na niya itong inaalagaan. Napakakulit nito. Kung mahinahina lamang ang kaniyang katawan at kalooban ay matagal na niya itong sinukuan, ngunit sino bang ina ang susuko sa anak? Maaring ang anak ang sumuko sa ina, ngunit ang ina kalianman ay hinding-hindi susukuan ang kanilang mga anak. Ang bunso naman ay si Angelito. Hindi pa niya alam kung anong klase ng bata ang kalalabasan ng bunso niyang ito, ngunit nananalangin siya sa Diyos na sana ay huwag magaya sa mga kuya nito ang ugali nito. Nais pa nga niya na sana ay maging pusong babae na lamang ito dahil sa karanasan niya, higit na mas madaling alagaan ang babae kaysa lalaki. *** “Inay, may nag-text sa inyo!” sigaw ni Kiray mula sa salas. “Sino daw Kiray?” “Si ate Luisa po.” “Akin na anak, at pakikuha na nga rin yung salamin ko, nandiyan sa ibabaw ng TV.” “Eto ‘nay,” sabi nito bago inabot sa kaniya ang selpon niya at salamin. Luisa: Inay Bkit Luisa? Hininaan muna niya ang apoy ng niluluto at umupo sa may pasimano habang naghihintay. Luisa: Busy ka ba Inay?

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Hindi namn, naglu2to lng ako ng pananghalian. Bkt? Luisa: Nay papunta po ako ng ospital. BAKIT? NAPAPAANO KA?? HOY! LUISA BAKIT KA PUPUNTANG OSPITAL? SAANG OSPITAL? Luisa: Inay.. ANO? BAKIT KA PUPUNTANG OSPITAL? Napabubo ang isang paketeng toyo sa niluluto niya dahil sa kaba. Si Luisa ang anak niyang mula pagkabata ay lapitin na talaga ng disgrasya. “Kiray! Tapusin mo nga muna itong niluluto ko sandali.” Papalabas na siya ng pinto ng bahay nila nang muling tumunog ang selpon niya. Dali-dali niya tong binuksan. Luisa: Inay.. ANO NGA? INAY KA NG INAY? BAKIT KA NASA OSPITAL?! Luisa: Kasi po kapag pumipikit ako wala po akong makita. Nanghihinang napaupo siya sa bangko sa may labas ng bahay nila. Umuwi ka na at kakain na tayo. Luisa: Sige po Nay.

Joke lang yung kanina Inay, nakita ko lang sa Facebook. Maaaring biro lamang ng anak niya iyon sa kaniya ngunit hindi nito alam kung anong ibayong takot ang inihatid niyon sa kaniya.Gustuhin man niyang magalit sa anak ngunit hindi niya kaya, ayaw niyang baka dahil sa minsang pagalitan niya ito ay lumayo ang loob nito sa kaniya. Ayaw niyang

dumating ang panahon na magaya sila sa ibang pamilya na hiwa-hiwalay at malalayo ang loob sa isa’t-isa. *** “INAY!” “Inaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, si Angelito nakalunok na naman ng piso!” Hindi alam ni Maria kung totoo ba ang naririnig o parte pa rin iyon ng panaginip niya. Ngunit, tila totoo ito dahil heto na siya at mabilis na tumatakbo papunta sa kinaroroonan ng mga anak. Kagaya noong una ay naroroon at kumpleto ang pito niyang anak na nakapalibot sa bunsong kapatid. “Ano na namang nangyari?” tanong niya habang papalapit sa mga anak na nakatalikod lahat sa kaniya. Walang sumasagot sa mga ito na kaniyang ikinikaba. Nang malapit na siya ay halos sabay-sabay humarap sa kaniya ang mga ito habang hawak-hawak ni Luisa ang isang parisukat na cake na may nakatusok na ilang pirasong kandila. “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday…,” sabay-sabay na awit ng mga anak niya, “n-nanay,” dugsong ni Luisa. Nagsimulang magpatakan ang mga luha sa kaniyang mga mata. Dahil sa awit ng mga ito, dahil naalala ng mga anak niya ang kaniyang kaarawan, at higit sa lahat, dahil sa huling katagang nanggaling sa labi ni Luisa. Si Luisa na simula bata ay ungol lamang ang naririnig niya, na nagnanais na maging kagaya ng ibang bata na naipapahayag ang mga saloobin at nakakatawa ng malakas, nakakaiyak, at nakikipagkwentuhan sa kanila na hindi gumagamit ng kamay upang isenyas. Si Luisa na ngayon ay nabigkas na ang dati pa niyang gustong marinig na salita, wala talagang himala sa taong sumasampalataya at nangangarap. Hindi rin niya alam kung paano nangyari, siguro ay dahil sa dalas na pag-huni at pag-ungol nito, wala talaga siyang ideya. Para siyang magulang na narinig ang unang salitang bibigkasin ng sanggol. Ganoon siya kasaya, at ngayon pa. Sa kaarawan niya.

Ngayon niya tuluyang napagtanto ang dahilan kung bakit ganito

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61 ang mga anak niya. Kung bakit responsable si Arabel, kung bakit mahina ang kokote ni Manuel, kung bakit madaldal sa kabila ng pagiging pipi si Luisa, kung bakit matalino si Juliano, kung bakit kikay si Kiray, kung bakit sakit sa ulo si Leo, at kung bakit palaging nakakakain ng piso si Joselito. Para pala may magpa-alala na siya ay ina.

Kada dalo niya ng pagtatapos ni Arabel, ako na NANAY ang kasama niya, kada kalokohan na ginagawa ni Manuel sa eskwelahan, ako na NANAY ang rumeresolba niyon, kada disgrasyang napagdaraanan ni Luisa, ako na NANAY ang umaakay sa kaniya, kada medalyang natatanggap ni Juliano sa iskwela, ako na NANAY ang nagsasabit sa leeg nito, kada lipstick na makikita niya sa labi ni Kiray, ako na NANAY ang tagapuna at minsan nga’y tagubara niyon, kada kalokohang ginagawa ni Leo, ako na NANAY ang tagasuway at tagapalo niya, at kada pisong nalulunok ni Angelito, ako na NANAY nya ang nagsisikap na palabasin ito kahit sa anong paraan. Iyon pala ang ina. Ngunit sa kabila noon, sila ang pumupuno sa mga puwang ng buhay niya, sila ang tagapag-usbong ng mga emosyon niya; nagagawa ng mga itong galitin siya, pasayahin, takutin, pag-alalahanin, at higit sa lahat ay paibigin. Ayun pala ang silbi ng mga anak sa magulang, lalo na sa mga ina. *** “Inay,” sabi ni Luisa sa text message. “Bkt?” sagot niya. “Bakit po kapag tinatakluban ko ang ilong ko ay di po ako makahinga?” “Ganyan din ako nung kasing edad mo ako anak, mana ka sakin. Wag kang mag-alala.” Muling tumunog ang selpon niya. “ ??? ” “ joke yun inay, nakita ko sa facebook.” *** At ang isa pa, upang mas magkaroon ng magandang samahan ang magulang sa anak---- minsan, kailangang patulan ang mga kalokohan at trip ng mga anak. Joan Estrella

Ang Pamilya ni Corazon Carreteras Cristian Magtubo


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The Official Student Publication of Polytechnic University of the Philippines Sto. Tomas Branch, Sto. Tomas Batangas

Editorial Board A.Y. 2017-2018 Dan Joseph Lim Editor in Chief Ervin Joshua Navarro Associate Editor

Joan Estrella Managing Editor

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