THE GAMBLER

 [First posted on Facebook on 07 March 2023]

One of the cases I have been involved with recently was featuring one group of fighting cock breeders in the city, at ‘war’ against another group of similar trade and industry and both were vying for supremacy.  I was not, I am not, and will never be a fighting cock breeder myself, excuse me, for, with due respect to both parties, I think it’s a foul giving a fowl more expensive necessity than the kind I do in my own body. 

Both groups are not your typical hoi polloi, as they’re members of society’s bourgeois class like those written about by somebody named Tolstoy.

In this war, I have to exercise better discretion and judgment with every move, for I’m just a pawn in the game of kings, bishops and rooks, ready to be disposed of.  I know I don’t need only to calculate my every step, but I have to make sure the sure win option will always be the one I’d pick.

I don’t have to play the game these breeders, who are also betting aficionados, play in flight.  Like placing bets on one winged gladiator but uncertain who’d win the fight.  Of course, they can’t go for both protagonists or on both they would delve, unless their only purpose in life is simply to fool themselves.  Gambling is only two things:  in it, one either loses or wins.  And most of the time, gamblers would turn out losers in the end.

There may be some in the world called “lucky” people, but not for long and they are few and far between.  You may wonder why although they’re the bad kind yet the same have more blessings.  “These are the ungodly, who prosper in the world; they increase in riches,” as Psalms 73:12 has said.  But Apostle Paul admonished, “What shall we say then, shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?  God forbid…” (Romans 6)

I wasn’t born a gambler; I knew that since I was a kid, for I was afraid to lose even when only a beer tin crown was our bet.  No wonder many times in the past did I let opportunities of the heart to pass, but realizing the situation now sans any rush, it turned out everything “[worked] together for good” indeed for those who believed and loved. 

But the ultimate end of all things depended solely on all of our choices in life anyway.  If we did not weigh it then carefully the result of which later would turn out unfavorable very most likely.

There are now a lot of self-confessed wise men armed with the best argument but only according to the finite mind of men, which disputes the existence of God, Hades and Heaven. And I remember long ago in Kirayan the then young pastor Elbern Latorilla’s preaching.  It was something like if we would do it like cockpit bettors and gamblers then bet that it’s true that there is God, Hell and Heaven.

For granting arguendo everything in the end is myth and farce indeed, then, at least you lived life according to morals, law, order, respect, love and decency.  But what if you had bet otherwise and it turned out that it would be true, as it is written and believed to be, that Christ will come and judge everyone, imagine the terrible and horrible outcome of losing miserably.

You bet, the choice is no brainer.  Whether you are or no gambler.

MOB RULE

[First posted on FB on 07 March 2012]

As time goes by, I think James Bond would hit it right, the world is not enough. There are now officially more than seven billion people on Earth as of the latest estimates in the rough.

Look around you, it seems that all places in this world were already occupied and/or taken. It makes you wonder if there are some forests left on the planet that could be truly considered as virgin. 

See the malls, the marketplaces, and town plazas among others during a fiesta and we can see that people are everywhere.  And they fight on the beaches, they fight on the landing grounds, they fight in the fields and in the streets, they fight in the hills, they never surrender.

Time will come when gold and silver will never amount anymore to anything. And the only stuff of great value would be no other than food, shelter and clothing. We spend a great deal of wasted time in our lifetime just to push and shove and queue in a crowd so maddening. Soon comes the time when men would kill each other no longer for honor or filthy lucre, but only for crumbs and morsel to meet and satisfy a mortal’s primary need to survive their hunger.

Everyone will admit that it’s a dreadful scenario and the most difficult situation. Surely, when that happens, love, honor, pride and compassion will become a forgotten emotion. And anarchy will reign in the streets. And anarchy will reign in the streets, as the game will be the survival of the fittest. Or the fiercest. And the mob will rule at its best.

Like what happened during one Friday night in a public terminal where, as the idling last trip bus full-packed with passengers was waiting for its driver, every minute passed it seemed that it was quickly filled to the rafters. People inside were hustling and mixed up like sardines and everybody could hear everybody ‘coz everybody was complaining. Even the entrance door could not be closed as there were still six bodies finely compact therein where one man’s left leg was dangling.

When another hurrying man tried to squeeze in, he was pushed back by a hulking passenger and the former dropped his body to the ground where he smashed his chin. With blood dripping on his shirt, he tried to get up and held again the outside railing of the bus and forced himself to fit his small frame in any small opening between rubbing bodies. 

But the same angry big man, who dropped his right leg on the ground when the insisting fellow elbowed his back as he climbed again, suddenly punched the hapless thin man and shattered his teeth when he was hit in the face.

He fell to the ground again and rolled over. Yet with his full spirit intact, he went on, he did never retreat nor surrender. He grabbed the door’s hold-rail anew to get in but this time the huge puncher kicked him. And when he slammed his body on earth again, the hulk followed up with a barrage of jabs, hooks and straights and kicks until the man’s face went beyond recognition with cuts and sores so severe.

But my heart bled so much after the dying man replied when he’d been asked why he was so insistent to get in despite everything: “I…am… the driver.”

REMEMBERING JUNE 19

June 21, 2012

For the first time in my life I’ve had experienced this animal called “tonsillitis” which turned me “lo-bat” from Friday till June 19 Tuesday. My incessant apologies to friends and loved ones who had suffered from which then but I’d no idea really how did it feel thus I couldn’t even feign empathy.

Some proverb may be right as ever: “Better late than never.”


But what contributed greatly to my recovery was knowing of that day and remembering the birthday, on the same day, of the two people so dear to me. 

One of them is my old man, the cornerstone of our own home, to whom I’m always grateful, the patriarch of the family, the big boss, our then sole provider. He it is who, for a long time, preached and practiced self-reliance, total independence from domestic and foreign aid during inflation times, a preferred loner.


He had his own way of raising a family, and judging from the way things had turned out, some ends justify the means sometimes anyway.

The second celebrator is perhaps the greatest girl I’ve ever loved because I literally and figuratively moved heaven and earth just to win her love, but sad to say the universe did not conspire to help me reach my goal of victory, and that love sank into oblivion like a Skylab. 

It was only in her that I nearly or might have committed idolatry considering that I made her on top of all my heart, thoughts and priorities way beyond and above, and have not only adored her in spirit and in troth, but worshipped her in soul and in fact, with the best of that love.


That’s why I hated Math too much because of its more-than-less-than thing and complicated theories which are not exactly accurate as what people think. It’s principle about reciprocal in real life doesn’t always end up one, thus, not equal, and you can’t understand till you see a shrink.


But out of that sad episode where I came to know and prove that pride sometimes could be bigger than any love is a bitter lesson that I had learned. Good thing I have learned too to move on and had managed to proceed to the next chapters of my life and get by with a little help from my friends.

Belated happy birthday to Tatay and to You-know-who-are-you. In a Philial world of the believers, I have never stopped loving you…

GO GET UP

February 27, 2013 · 

I couldn’t believe that for two successive years, I’d miss the Oscars live, but I had to prioritize my job last Monday lest I’d ruin my life. Anything can happen really atop the stage, especially when we would talk about the Oscars stage. You saw how Best Actress Jennifer Lawrence did fall and rise, and subsequently gave an outstanding impromptu message that made too the audience rise?

Speaking of stage, at this stage, I’m afraid people are suspecting that for a long time in my life I was maintaining a harem, or my heart easily fell fast and was very deceiving. Perhaps they’re also wondering why it seems that I always have something to connect for almost anything, heartily speaking.

What can I say? Well, I ask you, if you find yourself stuck in a situation where all you do is wasting time and waiting, I guarantee you, you too would remember everything. Actually, spending dull moments for a certain purpose is just another day in the office, in this case, the field, which is a great part of the job.

If you won’t try writing to write off boredom, surely, your work either would never find your love. You just pray you’re always dead sure your kind of ‘revelation’ about those ‘lucky’ women who wittingly and unwittingly managed to evade your wicked heart through all generation would not give away any clue that’d lead to public consumption, that their dignity you enshrined in your heart and held in high esteem since its inception will always be there thought it’s only now no more than just merely for memories’ retention.

If you’re a kiss-and-tell type of a person who loves to destroy reputation only, it will be a different story, and certainly, you don’t need friends even here in FB. Although there are times when some things are better left unsaid, yet everything is best to be reminisced.

The very purpose of this is to learn some lessons from it, that you’d never commit the same mistake once similar situation is later met.

But considering that you’re now approaching the twilight of your existence, knowing that anytime you’d leave from this Earth with or without anyone’s bidding, you’re learning now to appraise those past experiences from different view without much ado, and became grateful at last you finally understood those glimpses of joy you thought would be yours forever but turned out it didn’t mean to be too.

But do it like Ben Affleck who, for me, had the best message during the last Oscars ceremony for us. It was something like when in real life you suffered crash or fell into other people’s wily trap, you don’t hold grudges but rather try to get up.

SIMPLE

February 27, 2014 · 

“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” —Leonardo Da Vinci

Despite my vicious but precious pride I simply relented and stopped being autocratic in the house last Sunday. I told myself, why not sometimes try democracy? And thus we resorted to division of the house in dealing with our TV. We are five in the house but in the official tally, it was three to one in favour of ABS-CBN’s “Bet On Your Baby.” This after the third vote was canvassed and my three-year-old lady almost abstained but decided to run away, therefore I was left with no choice but to sit back and pretend I was still happy to watch Judy Ann Santos—and my defeat—graciously.

All the contestant couples featured each a pretty momma, but stood out and easily caught my attention was this certain Anna. Right at first sight I remembered instantly her familiar face and graceful motion, and I was right absolutely with my suspicion: she was the same Anna who has become a certified YouTube sensation! She’s sensational in the sense that despite her being full-blooded Russian in thought and emotion, she could sing beautifully any Filipino song from classic one to Pinoy rap in flawless, native rendition.

She could speak Pilipino a whole lot better compared to a pure Pinoy who left for the U.S. and came back six months after. With her talent, charm and beauty, she could have captured the hearts of an English royalty or a billionaire sheik from Saudi if not an heir to the Sultan of Brunei. But she chose a simple life with a simple Pinoy. She gave her commitment and her future to him and opted to live in simple joy. What makes Anna amazingly astounding and beautiful to me the more is her dedication to absorb in her being all the Filipino traits and culture.

No way could we find contentment in living a simple life if we would not deflate our bloated ego ourselves neither hand-check our wicked pride. I don’t mean we have to pretend we are a “have-not” or poor if in truth we are rich, for I also always respect the “haves” and their belief that “If you have it, flaunt it.”

I don’t mean also we have to exaggerate simplicity and humility by means of scrambling the right words irresponsibly like a nerd because although our intention is good or we have no malicious motive, still the result would be awkwardly absurd for others to be heard. Like in an Inquirer’s story lately about a great German pastor who only wanted to be introduced simply as something like just a shepherd of the flock when he was invited to speak, thus the host said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, our today’s guest speaker is a simple German shepherd.”

Finding joy in simple things would be difficult if one doesn’t start from deep within. He has to realign his focus and perspective of life to have a good grasp of it with spiritual understanding. Israel’s King David knew so well the unhappiness and futility of life if he’d live it continuously in defiance of His will and not take on the Lord’s side. Forgetting his majestic pride, he turned back from his sin with Bathsheba and prayed to his God to create in him a clean heart and a right spirit dwelling inside (Psalms 51:10).

King David knew that when seeking true forgiveness from God, things must begin from his heart. It’s just by contrite spirit and unceremonious, plain repentance, just simple as that.

NAMING NAMES

February 27, 2014

Some things—like reputation and identity as well—never change. Even the likes of Miagao PUJ veteran driver, the ageless Mansing.

Last Wednesday, I got the chance to get a ride in his jeepney again early in the morning, and though I never saw his face at first, there was no doubt it was Mansing, judging from the engine’s roaring. Name it, he had it, fast motorcycles, similar PUJ’s, Ceres bus, SUV’s, taxi, van and Volkswagen, in that same instance, Mansing had them all easily overtaken.

In local parlance, they would describe him unanimously as, “daw wa-râ ti atáy.” No wonder in that morning, despite waking up late, I’d still catch work on time. His fine maneuvering in curves and smooth sailing at top speed made me wonder hard why his nickname is “Haló,” Kinaray-a for monitor lizard. In native vocabulary, “halo” connotes stupid, dim-wit or mental retard, yet, if I’d rate Mansing’s driving from one to ten, he’d get eleven, thus that means he’s exceptionally smart. Nevertheless, whether Mansing likes it or not, to him his nickname would be endlessly stuck.

It’s like the case of another city-loop Lapaz-Iloilo PUJ driver who, just a few years ago, despite his being already an octogenarian ‘Lolo,’ was still active in “byahe” or “pasada” but of course he’d run his jeepney practically in slo-mo, which made him earn that sluggish moniker “Ba-ó.” “Ba-ó,” which in local tongue literally means turtle, would drive too slow, hence, students who’d love to catch classes right on time waved their hands when the old man’s jeepney was coming, signifying a “No!”

His much advanced age made him above the law of traffic in the city as he was just ignored by a police auxiliary, who ignored the more his vintage jeepney that reeked with rusty smell (“amoy kalawang”), including its seats’ foamless upholstery. I didn’t see “Ba-ó” around I think for at least a couple of years already, therefore I could only assume he’s now “amoy-lupa” literally and finally. If I’m wrong I hope you would not blame me as it’s the only logical reason I could think of despite knowing that assumption is the mother of all stupidity. It’s because I presume too that in the court of law anywhere in the country, logic and practicality, when absent of any malice, enjoy this privilege rule called presumption of regularity.

We are defined by our pet names or nicknames most of the time according to our ability or personality. Some, however, are given a name opposite exactly to what they are just in the name of sublime irony. Great nicknames are given to great personalities like a sportsman, a popular figure and a gentleman debonair. Michael Jordan’s nomenclature did glare because according to Magic Johnson himself, everything Magic did on the ground Michael would do it in the air.

Even the Lord Jesus, because of His greatness, long before His birth, had been given by the prophet Isaiah some several sobriquets: “[A]nd his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

So that to be saved, in His name we must believe (Acts 4:12).

BUGOY

February 27, 2015 · 

The word “Bugoy” per se in our native tongue would have various meaning. But it usually has negative implication to a person of whom you are calling. When I was a child I was instantly amused upon hearing for the first time we had barriomates named “Bugoy” and “Bәyӛng” as they were fondly called by their own mother. Yeah, they’re brothers and for those who are still uninitiated with “Kinaray-a,” “Bugoy” and “Bәyӛng” originally would mean “anarchists” and they are synonymous with each other.

I am not exactly sure but I think I only met “Bugoy” in our barrio once and for all. And I was surprised when “Bәyӛng” at one time became a classmate in high school. Since then, without realizing it, I surprisingly found myself fascinated with people named “Bugoy.” For it seems their character’s perfectly opposite to their name, yeah, they’re not the real McCoy. Thus, when I came to know about the coming of the movie starred by the great comedian Dolphy that has “Bugoy” for a title, I didn’t buy Pater Ikong’s banana cue for two months, walked to and from school in the morning and afternoon to avoid a tricycle. That in Golden Cinerama I’d see “Bugoy.” And I really did, and there I did tremendously enjoy.

My next and last so far, personal encounter with that particular name which when heard by anyone for the first time, his curiosity would be aroused, was when Tatay was employed by the provincial government through “Bugoy” so we had a new, shining Toyota Land Cruiser parked beside our house. And that was the first and only time that a luxury vehicle rested in and touched my father’s lot: Courtesy of someone they all comfortably called “Bugoy” from whom Tatay said he owed a lot. No, not of cash or any large amount since my father is allergic to borrowing or similar kind ever since, but for giving him a chance to become a public servant when he gave his best during his short stint therein.

Yeah, short, it’s simply because just only a few months on his government service as mere utility driver, his eyes were opened to the reality that with a low salary he’d be forced to put his children’s future in a wager. I did not know nor even noticed then that his eyes were well with tears each time he saw our rice would be mixed with corn. Therefore he would decide shortly that enough was enough, he’d resign, lest in our eyes later he’d be a father scorned.

Some veteran colleagues of him in the Capitol gave my father an idea to do a “paihi kang gasolina” to have enough extra income weekly thrice the value of a month salary. But he refused to do so, and told Nanay he’d rather see all of us die with his wage in hunger and poverty than to feed us using “Katas ng Madiskarteng Driver na hindi nag-Saudi.” But his chief reason was “Bugoy,” the inimitable, the amiable Vicente “Bugoy” Molejona, the office chief, who personally handpicked him to get the job because he trusted him so much. The man would even forbid him to call him “Boss” or “Sir,” but just simply “Bogs,” who treated him not as an office driver or subordinate but like an equal, thus he vowed not to break that trust.

Therefore my father returned to his old familiar job as public utility jeepney driver where our meals had unlimited rice again. Yet he’d always look back and be grateful for that experience of having the always smiling boss, simply called “Bugoy,” had given him.

The “Bugoy” who always had nothing but kind words, and whom our family would love. The “Bugoy” I will always consider to be the best municipal mayor Miagao never had.

Thank you, Nong Bugoy… Attaboy….