Mga Mukha ng Buhay

Iba’t iba ang mukha ng buhay. Kung marunong kang magmasid sa paligid. Makikita mo mga mukha ng pag-asa, hinagpis at pangamba.

            Kadalasan makikita natin ang pagkakaiba-iba ayon na rin sa antas ng pamumuhay sa lipunan. May mga mayayaman na akala natin masasaya dahil nasa kanila na lahat; at mga mahihirap na akala natin ay pinakamababa nang nilalang sa mundo dahil sa natamong kapalaran.

            May mga kaibigan akong mayayaman. Lahat halos ng luho ay nasusunod, bagay na kinaiinggitan ko. Sinasabi nila masaya sila dahil kaya nilang bilhin lahat ng naisin ngunit makikitang iba ang sinasabi ng kanilang mata. Mas gusto nila ang makasama ang ibang tao kesa sa mga magulang nila, bagay na napag-isipan kong masuwerte pa rin ako na may inang nagmamahal.

            Ako na nabibilang sa mga kapus-palad ay mas kilala ko ang katayuan namin. Ilan na bang kakilala ko na naghihirap din ang kinakitaan ng pagsisisi sa buhay. Masaya sila at buo ang pagsasama. Kahit marami mang problema hindi pa rin nakakalimutan ang tumawa.

            Maraming mukha ang buhay. Mukha na kakikitaan ng lungkot sa kabila ng panlabas na anyo na masaya. Mukha na mayayaman sa pagmamahal ngunit salat sa material na bagay.

            Hindi lahat ng mayayaman sa materyal na bagay ay masaya. Hindi rin lahat ng naghihikahos sa buhay ay hindi marunong magsaya.

The 'Othering' in the Poem “My Husband's Tongue is Bitter”

           According to the Postcolonialism theory, a literary work, especially a work written from a once colonized nation, manifest in it the concept of SELF and OTHER. The idea of good, educated and in order is that of a colonial nature which represents the SELF. The concept of bad, ignorant and chaotic, on the other hand, is that of a colonized which represents the OTHER.

            In the poem of Okot p' Bitek's “My Husband's Tongue is Bitter” is evident in its use of the SELF and OTHER. The speaker of the poem is a black woman talking to her husband. The husband sees their colonizers as modern, progressive, civilized and educated. He considers learning English and following their acts would also make him one of them (colonizers), and by doing so, he will acquire the identity of the SELF. On the other hand, he offended his wife and his own people by citing and ennumerating their deeds as backward, primitive and ignorant.

The Shklovsky's Defamiliarization and Jakobson's Focus of the Poem “Litany of the Little Bourgeois”

The poem “Litany of the Little Bourgeois” is defamilarized by being unconventional in its structure and style. It does not follow the traditional form of writing a poem. The stanzas of the poem has its irregular number of poetic lines. Stanzas like the third compose only of one (1) line; and other stanzas like the fifth compose up to eight (8) lines. Because of its irregularities, it loses its rhythmic element. Rhyme, as one element of a traditional poem is not applied on the poem also.

            Aside from doing away with rhyme and rhythm, it uses the defamiliarization technique by the constant repetition of the phrase “swallow a lot of saliva”.

* * *

            On a shallow reading or interpretation of the text, one can say that it is like a list of do's and don'ts on how to become a bourgeois. But a critical interpretation of the whole poem would mean otherwise – meaning, the message of the poem evokes sarcasm.

            According to Jakobson any message of a literary work have a corresponding function. In the poem “Litany of the Little Bourgeois” as an example, its focus is on the addresser. Therefore, the message of the poem has its emotive function because it predominantly focuses on what feelings or emotions the message of the poem evokes. On the abovementioned literary piece it draws out and gives emphasis on the speaker's dislike of the bourgeois 'ways' by applying irony in the poem.

Peanut on Making Promises

“Are you coming with us?” Mother asked while she was buttoning her blouse and getting ready for the family day party.

“No”, was my quick reply. I was busily reading Interview with the Vampire, a novel authored by Anne Rice.

There was a momentary silence. And Mother stopped what she is doing or I thought she did. Mother, together with father and my younger brother is to attend a family gathering that afternoon.

Maybe she hadn’t expected my reply for she asked,” But, why? It’s a party for families. You should come.”

I’m not in the mood to go and be smiling to everyone while I don’t feel like doing. I’d rather stay home and read. But instead I said, “I’m not feeling well. I feel dizzy nowadays. I’ll just stay here.”

She’s about to argue or still want to persuade me to change my mind but she instead said, “Oh, right. Rest now and maybe you’ll feel better later. You can still come if you feel better.”

I just nodded and continued reading. After the doorknob clicked signaling that they already left I closed the book and just stared at the ceiling blankly. It’s true that I don’t want to go because it seems a hassle on my part to be mingling with other people I barely know, but I felt something heavy that makes me want to cry. Is it self pity?

I used to like my Mother’s company fifteen years ago. Father is sometimes jealous that I most often than not to ask for Mother’s help instead of his.

I still remember clearly years ago…

I was in my third year in elementary then. I arrived home all sweat and still catching my breath from playing hide and seek outside with my neighbors. I heard Mother was back from her three-day business transaction as a Tupperware manager. So, I ran home to have a good talk on why she’s away for long.

“Ma,” I shouted while still at our doorstep. I heard voices at the kitchen so I immediately looked for Mother there. And there she was playing with my three-year old brother while having a chat with Father. “Ma, why have you been away for long?!” I demanded. “You told me you’ll be gone just for one day but one day passed you never showed up until today.”

Her expression didn’t change as if I’m not trying so hard to sound business-like just to get her attention. Well, darling,” she mused, “I’ve been busy with the promotion of our new products. It’s not that easy you know.”

“But you promised,” I insisted.

Mother just smiled at me. “Oh, sorry dear,” she said, “Next time I’ll bring you along with me. I promise.”

“Then let me go with you tomorrow!” I said in agitation.

Mother stared at me for a while and said. “Okay then, you can come with me tomorrow. Just be sure to wake up early.”

“Yes ma’am, I will!” I said in excitement.

I prepared the whole night for our upcoming trip tomorrow. I get my pink and blue back pack and stuffed it with my clothes and some of my toys. I plan to share it with the newest friend I’ll meet on our trip.

We’ll be leaving six o’ clock in the morning. I slept beside Mother so that it will be easy for me to wake up. I’m very much excited that I can barely sleep. I tossed and turned and kept on watching the time. Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac…

I can see a faint light at our window. I turned to Mother’s side but was alarmed when I realized that she’s not already around. I looked at our wall clock. It says thirty minutes down 6 o’ clock. I went to the bathroom, run to the backyard, and look for Mother everywhere in the house. Does this means that Mother left without trying to wake me up? Having sensed that she’s not already around, I grabbed my backpack and went straight to the town’s bus terminal. It’s almost a one-kilometer walk and I couldn’t even remember how I got there in less than thirty minutes.

The moment I arrived at the bus terminal I searched around the place looking for Mother. But she’s nowhere. I climbed the bus that is about to leave and asked the driver, ”Manong, have you seen Mother?”

“No.” is his short reply.

I then asked the dispatcher, “Manong, have you seen mother ride a bus?”

“No, no I haven’t” he said a little bit annoyed. “My child, you should get off now. The bus is about to leave.”

Feeling hopeless, I get off the bus and watched the bus as it moved slowly then speeded up until it was out of sight. I stayed there watching with a stooped head saying to myself, Where’s mother?

Whenever that incident crossed my mind, a famous line in the Peanut cartoon comes to mind readily that says,”Don’t make promises to a child and not keep them. It’s unkind!”

- assignment in M.E. Oct 17, 2009. 

The Merchant of Emotion

            TELL SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF. Sounds easy to say but the truth is right now I'm having a hard time grasping words that would best describe me. I guess one of the few persons that I hardly know is myself. Isn't it sad? But, no! Don't pity me because it would be the last thing that I want others to feel for me. Bingo! There I already said something about myself.

            But one thing I can truly say about myself is that I am a certified music enthusiast! Listening to music can send me to sleep at night and can perk me up during the day. I can't even study or work well w/o music playing. It lightens my mood when I'm lonely. I like almost all kinds or genre of music, from the classic songs of Matt Monroe and Michael Jackson to the songs of today like that of Beyoncé and Yeng Constantino.
 

            I also love dancing! Man, I can dance the whole night without feeling tired a bit. Almost everyone especially my performing arts mentor say that I'm good at what I do - DANCING. But few know that back then I'm a reject dancer. Sometime when I was a second grader, my teacher replaced me with another dancer because I'm a lousy performer of Pearly Shell. Gosh! Only that?! I can even well-choreograph a dance sequence for that.

            Ehem! Well, my talent, as you all know, is not a surprise in our family because we are a clan of musicians. But..just don't tell this to anybody..I actually got a low grade in our music class. I have a hard time reading music notes. Haay.. I can still remember when I was made to kneel down for one hour because the horrible score we got. Yikes! But, maybe that was my flaw on the music side. And it happened before I know that we are a clan of great musicians. Maybe now if given the chance to relearn I can do it and will do it with enthusiasm!

            One thing about me is that I'm already taken...taken for granted! Imagine at the age of 21 (25 now and still) no guy ever looked a second glance at me? (Oh, c'mon!) I'm beginning to really believe that I'm ugly, It's just my mother is telling me otherwise.

            One good thing about me is that I'm a natural clown and a mascot! I can make people laugh when I'm in my lightest mood.

            I'm also a certified Kapamilya! I'm an ABS-CBN loyalist. I guess I would suggest Daddy Lopez to give me a loyalty award. Whad'ya think?

            On the drama side.. Oh! Have I told you that I'm good at acting on stage? Well, boasting aside I excel in our theater arts class. I'm hailed as one of the best actresses in our batch (applause)..

            Okay, on with our drama.. I'm not a simple girl really..the truth is I'm a complicated person.

            I'm a hopeless romantic who does not believe in happy endings. I still believe in whirlwind romances but very skeptic when talking about boys. You know what I want? I want that my first boyfriend, if there's going to be any, would also be my last. Aw! How romantic, isn't it? It's just one of my hopeless romantic views.

            I'm a Comm Arts Major who communicates poorly. I think I'm more in to arts than into communication. I did mention earlier that I'm an award winning actress in school, right? But do you know that I'm suffering from stage fright. I'm a lousy speaker in front of so many people watching. God! You just don't know my agonies when I'm standing on that platform and everyone is staring at me. I want to disappear! How I wished the earth would swallow me under. It's a nightmare for me.

            One of my (few) weaknesses is that I hate numbers or should I say numbers hate me for hating them that much! And right now I'm in a Math class! Gosh! I hope Ma'am Solitario would never think of giving me a failing grade..

            On the other hand, I'm an outgoing person but a loner at times. I like socializing with others when in my most party mood. But I want to be left alone and don't want to talk with anybody when I'm depressed with something or I'm angry or just don't feel like talking to someone. I'm very poetic in this state. You wanna hear a sample of my piece that I wrote? I admit that it's not very polished like the ones you read from the books but I'm proud of it anyway. Here goes:

i'm shattered...

my hopes are falling to pieces...

i need to regain my confidence

or else..time will come that i can't anymore respect myself.

i'd go insane....

right before i sleep

it sometimes cross my mind

to wish of not ever seeing the day's light again.

i can feel my self worth gradually declining..

so, don't ask for love...

i can't give you any..

because i have nothing more to give...

all i have is a little respect..

please..don't take it away from me.

Bravo! (applause)

            Anyway, I love the outdoor life but thinks I'm really a home buddy when everybody is out. Maybe because I have an unhealthy relationship with my stepfather that I want to go out most of the time. I'm not saying that he's evil. It's just that maybe we're very opposite in many things. I always felt like staying at home when no one is around.

            They say I'm a nosy person. I gossip every so often. Hell, no!I'm not one of the a gossip-monger, I'm just a social person..always communicating and socializing with other social beings like you.

            I can still give a smile to a person i hated so much...call it plasticity if you will but I don't consider myself plastic..I'm just FLEXIBLE!

            Do you still remember earlier that I said I'm ugly? I'm revoking it. Actually, I'm not that really, really ugly. I am just an ugly duckling, now ugly like a duckling but soon to be a pretty lady like a swan(happy!). As to when will that transformation will happen is for me to know and for you to find out.

            Ho! talking about not knowing one's self, huh?

- this was submitted as a partial fulfillment in Math 152. Nov. 21, 2007; with minor revisions

The Love Child

The earliest memory of my childhood that I can remember is I’m talking to a woman at the receiver’s end. It must have been a woman who is cuddling me and assisting me while talking to someone on the phone. I’ve been saying “Mama daw” all over again. I’m having a hard time back then what the phrase meant or it is somewhat absurd if understood in the Filipino language. But later on as I came to know my roots and learned that there’s a big part of me that is Capulena, I understood what the phrase meant.

When trying to remember that scene in my life, a woman in her prime, brown-skinned with full bangs is what I can imagine. Later on I found out through the pictures I came across that my mother looked that way in her early years. And it was not to mention the fact that I’ve been calling that person through the telephone “Mama daw” so she could be very much my mother.

One of my fondest memories is that our house rose above the ground – a typical abode at that time. There are at least four big posts supporting the floors of the dwelling. At its right side facing the front of the house is a jetmatic. It is termed “bomba” by the locales. One needs to climb the stairs to reach the front door of the house. The stairs is connected to the front porch of the house – which is also connected to its front door. 

Upon entering the house one could observe that it is wide with little furniture. In fact the space is a multipurpose area. It can serve as a nap place during siesta time. One has just to take out the rolled weaved mat called “banig” and the family especially the children can enjoy the cool temperature in the receiving area during hot seasons. There are about two rooms all of where a cloth hanging on its door. The cloth is called in the place as “kurtina”. It is to have the privacy because those days some rooms don’t have door panels. I remember there is a creek in front of the house where a Rosal plant is in bloom alongside. Someone would always assist me when crossing to the other side of the creek because I once fall off.

I had the fondest memory with my Lolo Poldo, my mother’s father. I would sit beside him in one of the staircases. He would then sing for me and later on taught me to sing. Then it has been our past time to sit in the stairs and sing. We would often sing the song “Mariano nga Buta” which goes:

Ayaw Inday pagtamay-tamaya

An sangkay ko hi Mariano nga buta

Kairo man san tawo kay lagas na

Maupay, maupay an pamustura.

I’ve been a favorite entertainer in the house. When the family gathers they would often call me and let me stand in the middle, front or at the top of the table – anywhere where the small crowd could see me sing my childhood anthem.

I had no slightest memory with my father, a biological father at that. Most of my toddler memories were just supplanted by my mother as I grew up. She said my father was a Muslim soldier. He was assigned in Samar where my mother lived. They met their and ended up in a romantic relationship. From what I heard from my aunts and uncles, my father is a good man. He would bring something for the family or joins them in their favorite pastime - tuba session. According from what I heard in our place. My parents loved each other. So therefore, I'm a love child. I was born because my parents loved each other. Mother even said that Father asked her hand in marriage but in Islam way. Mother felt betrayed for Father never told her that he already had his first wife (and first family). I don't really know if it is a good thing that Mother didn't accepted the proposal for if we were Muslims nowadays I wouldn't have enjoyed the liberty and woman empowerment I am enjoying now. But may be it would have been better also for finding a partner in life wouldn't be much of a fuss for marriage I guess is arranged between families. (By the way, for those who do not know why I am saying this is because I am now in a situation of an unrequited love. And I so hate myself for being a one-man woman. Why can't I look at other guys?!)

I knew from the very start that I don’t have a father. Even though my mother introduced me to a father figure and taught me to call him “Papa” but then I knew from the start that he is not really my father. His title as a father to me remains as a name. It could be a part to blame on me because maybe I didn’t gave him the chance to be a father. But, would one not accept other person if they heartily accept you? I don’t solely blame my stepfather for the hostility that was built between us. I think it is a mutual understanding and feeling that one is just not what you asked for but unavoidably was part of the unwanted bargain.

(under construction)