[Tinkered memories on December 12, 2012]
Pardon my loss of better phrase but it all began in love at first
sight. Hey, it was agape love, excuse
me, and it simply happened last night.
Nevertheless, I plead guilty to the charge that a big part of that chivalry
was due to her charm and captivating beauty.
But the situation likewise called for it, so, surely, even the
unsympathetic in you would find it hard to cease from showing sympathy.
I was already sitting pretty, or to be exact, resting handsomely, in the
second to the last row of the last-trip bus last night. Later, I saw a misty-eyed Venusian beauty, on
her left shoulder a sleeping child, dragging a black suitcase I swear ‘twas
Samsonite.
She stood still after getting in the idling bus and spread around her
sight as there were a lot of passengers already at the aisle. I was hoping in five seconds there would be a
few good men to give up their seat for her and her child to make her smile.
However, I noticed that all seats were already occupied by females of
all ages. When “Venus” inched her way to our direction I doubted because of my
seatmates. I was sure as heaven no way they
would be boy scouts, for they were “positive,” judging from their red mouths.
Therefore, the next thing would be, what do you think really, I’m maybe
old with a hurting knee, but I was born in love, in grace and mercy. So there, behold, a remnant of valiant and
courageous ones of the olden days, "cursed" himself as he stood up to
give up his seat for the lady.
Who else, but me, and I bit my lower lip as I asked myself if I’d be
ready. Knowing that for the next hour or two I would feel like standing at
Calvary. With obvious relief in her reddened eyes focusing on the unseen bus floor,
she slumped on the seat without acknowledging her knight in rusty armor. I was
hurt a bit though not certain if it was due to her ungratefulness, or simply
because my feeble knees started now to feel some numbness. She quickly put on her lap the still sleeping,
so cute little lad, and let out her cellphone to text as she occasionally
sobbed.
While holding the hand rail and standing right beside her, I pretended
to be drowsy and half-closing my eyes. It
was as if I wasn’t looking at whatever she was doing but definitely she was in
high definition before my sight. I feasted my eyes on her countenance while she
was trying to suppress another cry. I couldn’t believe that on such pretty
face, a male heart would let those tears run dry.
That’s one of life’s scenes unbearable to me: Seeing up close and
personal a tearful lady. I had almost told her, if she would have her way, I
would never mind, just for comfort and nothing else, if she’d like to hug me.
I restrained myself and remained in the same position but my eyes darted
off instinctively to her glittering cellphone. Pardon my intrusion but I
couldn’t help but read clandestinely the messages she typed thereon: “1st time
mo ni gnhimo pero indi ko gd bilog ma2lon dalum2 kg sakit2 gd para sa kon”
(This is the first time you did but I can’t swallow in full, for me this is so
deep and very painful).
I spent the rest of the time beholding such forty-something ethereal
beauty despite the unkempt hair, crumpled cheeks and swollen eyes in
melancholy. But the biggest surprise was, when I stopped the bus to get off
finally, she held my arm briefly, smiled sadly, and with no actual words, her
lips gently formed “thank you” for me.
I smiled back and nodded and walked away so fast. I was almost tempted
to ask her, “Am I seeing your last?”
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