LIFE’S LESSONS

[February 13, 2013]

When PUJ’s are off limits in the city’s downtown area, you’d see that people on this Earth are like the sands of Sahara. It is as if they’re all driven away by the wind from all directions to all directions. Some are like ants that stopped and “beso-beso” upon facing each other before proceeding to respective destinations.

I’m sorry, but until now I’m not sure what the fuss was yesterday as commuters from Jaro were again until Gaisano City. All I knew was there was re-routing once more of every a city-loop public utility jeepney. At first I quickly blamed the Chinese, thinking it was their New Year celebration again with “tikoy” with cheese, but I didn’t see a dragon parade, and any of their flamboyance or familiar charade. I don’t want to know, I don’t care. And I will not want to know what that was for either.

All I knew was I wasn’t in good mood yesterday. But only an abnormal would feel good after getting a dressing down the whole day. But no one’s to blame but I, me and myself. Worse, just when I needed it most, no one was of help. The cause: without extra pay, I felt the urge last Monday to report for duty. My reason? That the next day I could relax a bit when some pressure unloaded already. 

I was half-way to home at around six thirty P.M. then, when I received a text message from someone informing me I left our workplace fan whirring. I quickly got goosebumps right in that moment. Our internal rules are strict on such thing as it’s like committing a mortal sin.

My mind automatically imagined the next scenario of a fan overheating, then a spark and a smoke that prelude to a towering inferno of the entire building. As if unsatisfied, my imagination proceeded to the scene where I am dishonorably discharged from service, then prosecuted criminally for reckless imprudence resulting to severe damage to properties. Wow! I could see myself in handcuffs while getting a pee, with both ankles locked in chains and wearing a bright shirt with big letter “P.” 

Since in that moment I was in the bus with my two young boys both sleeping innocently, I waited till we reached home before I decided to u-turn alone once more back to the city. Although I had managed to go home again much, much later in the evening, such effort of mine was still lamentably badly taken, as I couldn’t undo anymore what had already happened.

Moral of the story: The next time you left something in an old, dilapidated building, never mind, never care, leave them all burning.

KNOWING DESTINY

[February 13, 2014]

“For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).

A song from Asin reverberated in mind as we strolled under the sun. Nature was at its best anew as it whispered to me, “Masdan ang kapaligiran.” In local parlance, in an appropriate application of phraseology, they could call us last Tuesday, “Daw mga a-ti.” This was because we were marching in single file along Aguiauan rice fields and paddies with my entire family.

I was greatly surprised finding myself reaching Brgy. Aguiauan for the very first time on its religious annual food-craze (‘pista,’ ano pa?) for despite my being an incurable footloose during our golden high school days, I had never ever set foot in there during such occasion, not that I’d evade the place, but solely for economical consideration since school allowance at the time was strictly for home-school fare purposes.

What prodded me to go was the knowledge that would gather there once more were the majority of one clan of my paternal first cousins, composed of twelve siblings, as some sort of reunion thus I tagged along my entire tribe knowing that at my age now I might never find that like chance again.

Carrying on my left shoulder my three-year-old little lady with two other young wobbling boys in tow who were both often clinging on my frail body, we were huffing and puffing together on a hill heading for a cousin’s house on a prairie, thus I recalled once more some scenes from Calvary. All of a sudden I realized I was fortunate, such thought immediately gave me gigantic relief somehow. At least in my case, no Roman soldier around would whip and beat me up like a farmer does a carabao.

I was right again, when I tried to ask a local about my cousin’s house location and he did sincerely answer, “ridyan lang sa unhan,’ roughly means, ‘just over there,’ I could bet with all surety all of my riches and power (under my arm) since I was absolutely certain that the distance we still had to walk would not be less than a kilometer.

I felt pity and horrified when I saw my paled wife. I thought she would just fall by the wayside. The boys, unaccustomed to this kind of long walk, both started to show some sign of surrender in their talk.

However, as a man myself—though who lately has this craving for headband or ‘pusikat’—I knew right away what would make my boys again feel tough. In every moment like this when there’s too much hardship on what they are doing, I just tell the kids to only remember for what or where they are eventually heading: a computer game. That way, they’d be surprised they know how to ignore whatever be the pain, as they would be thinking more than anything else of that impending ‘glory’ to gain.

Looking forward to the future with unwavering faith and knowing nothing in life but good, Paul the Apostle shared with us the importance of living with such kind of attitude: unmindful of the thorns in the flesh and thistles in the spirit he was experiencing during his time because he was certain the glory to come would be in multitude.

I agree with Asin’s fading lyrics almost whispered by Lolita: “Kay sarap ng buhay lalo na’t alam mo kung saan papunta…”

THE CELEBRATION

[February 13, 2016 at 12:02pm]

Husband takes the wife to a night party. There’s a guy on the dance floor dancing happily—breakdancing, moonwalking, back flips, doing shoki. The wife turns to her husband and says, “See that guy? 25 years ago he proposed to me and I turned him down.”

Husband says, “Looks like he’s still celebrating!!”

I confess, I am no longer an avid fan of the PBA like I used to be, but some few days ago I happened to watch San Miguel-Alaska game when the former re-wrote history. The previous holder of great comeback in a best-of-seven series was Jaworski-led Ginebra when they turned the tide in their favor to take the crown down from 1-3.

That Ginebra ’91 was in an incredible reversal of fortune, so to speak. It was like the story of The Revenant if not of the unkillable Phoenix.  However, unlike that euphoric Distrito-heroic filled Game Seven, one thing was glaring during this recent PBA’s historic event. The victory of the Beermen seemed to be exclusive only for the team as they were the only ones who savored the moment.

Yesterday, especially during Toyota-Crispa-Ginebra heyday, all of the adoring fans were joining everybody. Whooping it up with the team’s CEO down to the ordinary, yelling, dancing and jumping on the court in victory.

It was one of the rare moments when the gods of financial Olympus of the country would feel like ‘human’ again and descend from their palaces. When they would join hand-in-hand with the lesser mortals, the masses, who would greet the players with handshakes, high-fives and embraces.

What a feeling indeed to be in a Utopia-like environment when all of you present in your surroundings are mutually giving each other perfectly honestly the same treatment. It’s truly amazing to be in a certain place where you consider each other as co-equal even in one single moment, you’d wish it’ never end, you’d hope for a repeat of the event.

Christians, share the good tidings, a much better celebration is about to happen when someday Christ would finally reign (Rev.11:15). There’ll be no great or small, there’ll be no ugly or beautiful, for everyone by faith He did redeem will be perfectly the same (Gal.3:28).

That’s the only moment when there’ll be genuine equality and fairness for any being. When there will be one joy, one love for each other, all together in one rejoicing.

FORGIVEN

[February 9, 2012 at 12:20pm]

Recent news about the death of our three relatives was not grossly exaggerated. Today, cardiac arrests warrant sure death and dying by which, of course, is a natural death.

Truly, as our age heaps surly and surely, our consciousness shifts from riches to mortality. When we start experiencing near-death situations through famines and diseases we naturally feel insecurity. At the end of the day, we realize, like the great King Solomon, that fame and fortune and earth’s glory are all worthless after all as the same are pure vanity.

One relative who died among the three was a known trickster or con artist and land grabber in my maternal family. He and my mother were cousins german and I grew up hearing about his deceit especially how he duped my late grandpa regarding the latter’s own share property.

I’m not certain if he really became a rich man but all I knew was he died a painful death. He suffered a stroke that permanently denied him of his words and lived the rest of his life in the confines of his bed.

I grew up hating the man in my psyche though the memory of his face remains vague as I guess I met him since childhood once or twice only. He was a butt of joke or insult when the topic segued to him in every occasion or reunion of the family. ‘Twas all because offsprings in my mother’s line almost all were denied of college education and early suffered extreme penury.

Perhaps it was hard to accept then that inheritance which did not belong to him was deceptively taken and sent my grand old man’s heirs weeping and gnashing teeth and just wished shame on him. Upon receiving news of his death, I was so thankful no one in the family hastened to kill a fatted calf and went out rejoicing. 

In between sadness and relief he’d finally found rest from his sufferings, I’m happier to know that my soul, as well as my grandpa’s descendants’ too, finally gave up a lifelong bitterness toward him and let him die totally forgiven.

THE LIST

[February 6, 2013 at 6:51pm]

It hurts the moment you don’t see your name in an official list of successful examinees when you went to check it upon its release. I knew it when Napolcom’s list of exams passers mercilessly excluded my name during Marcos era when I tried the first step to become “Mamang Pulis.”

What made it more frustrating was the fact that right after I finished answering then all the questions, including the supposedly should be left unanswered ones, I was so certain like the rising sun that I would top that year’s exams and would be terribly sad if only in third place would I land.

That’s why for many years it remained an enigma to me when I found out I did not even pass. How could that be when I answered in an objective question that the Army chief then was Josephus Q. Ramas?

When I was asked therein to write down the Minister of Information, I’m sure I wrote Francisco ‘Kit’ Tatad, now a senatoriable, correctly. And I was trembling in fear as I also answered then that the Minister of National Defense was the immortal Juan Ponce Enrile.

Well, that’s life, you’re loftily proudly doing your best, but sometimes that best wasn’t even good enough to make you a police.

Another disappointing example of having a sore sight of not finding your own name in the official list is when you secure a security paper of your “live birth,” and discovered therein that as far as the NSO is concerned, you don’t technically exist!

Imagine having lived on this Earth for as close to half a century and has just discovered that you are not registered nationally? I had my first birthday cake on my 44th year, and I couldn’t believe the cake beat my national registration to the draw much faster.

Well, though this lapse in judgment on my part could be fatal had there been some urgent need for my “live birth” elsewhere, that sin of omission is nothing compared to the scene which will surely happen sooner or later.

That scene would definitely be the scariest, more horrible than any horror-drama movie anyone can get. It’s when we all finally stand before the Holy One’s Judgment Seat, where we’d expect rewards and awards yet finding our name therein nowhere in the list.

And the saddest of all is when we argue our case we gave alms to the poor and did things in His Name only, and He would write His Finger on the ground again and answer nonchalantly: “I never know you. Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity…” (Matthew 7:21-23)

HALL OF JUSTICE

[February 8, 2013 at 10:01am]

One of the hottest issues around the City of Iloilo today is about the Hall of Justice Building which was abandoned right after the last quake that rocked the city.

Some of the branches of the Court of First Instance were compelled to settle and nestle at the also abandoned Elementary building of the defunct De Paul College in Jaro District. In view thereof, the hearings are like your typical elementary class minus the rowdy pupils as a prohibition of the noise, of course, is understandably strict.

If you don’t know the main reason why court proceedings are held in such kind of venue and place when only through its dilapidated wooden windows you peep, you would come to a conclusion and firm belief that, beyond a reasonable doubt, justice in the Philippines is cheap.

It’s because it’s not good that the administrators of the law, like Batman and his Superfriends, from the majesty of the halls of justice away you drove. It’s sore sight-seeing rostrums and robes in inappropriate location as if in the wrong side of the globe, keeping them for a long time in a secluded and remote area similar to an abused rainforest cove.

Powers-that-be may have forgotten that Lady Justice should reside in a courtroom of at least a palace of a home. That people would feel, speak and hear substantial justice as they would see the Lady in form with “the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome.”

However, considering the precarious condition of the Iloilo Hall of Justice which has cracks here, there and everywhere, forcing workers and end-users to go back therein without surgical inspection of every nook and cranny with imminent danger would be fairly unfair.

For how could one work in there properly and efficiently when only half of his mind is performing the job as the other half is watching even for a tiny jolt so intently? Court employees could take all orders from higher-ups like a dedicated soldier who would trust and obey, but exposing them to clear and present danger would be a completely different story.

Let us leave the mantra “Obey first before you complain” strictly to a Marcosian military. Such phrase is advantageous to and abused only by the corrupt and should have no place in a democracy.

The local members of the judiciary, litigants and the general public are clamoring for a total demolition of the current Building, to give way to a new one which should be religiously built according to its specifications in the plan, design, and scheme.

That way, when, coinciding with an earthquake, an accused is found not guilty, the same could no more truthfully say, “You give me death while giving me liberty.”

MAGIC

[February 4, 2013 at 1:19pm] · 

Not quite a few mistook me as another virtual political activist. The truth is, I hate politics and I’m only active when my feeling’s at its best. Being a hog-tied taxpayer myself, I’m just trying to have a word or two about it, that in my own little way I could remind the voters again if they want a chance at change again, then, this is it. Come election time, vote responsibly and conscientiously.

Don’t vote for a name, my goodness, it is reputation and character that must be weighed. If it happens that the official list of local and national candidates would be released finally, and you found out that such list is just a choice between a proverbial devil and the deep blue sea, then it’s another story. Please just vow down your head to pray or look up to heaven, clasp up both hands and wish, “May the lesser evil win.”

Among the senatorial candidates, I wish too you’d try to vote for those who are of totally new breed, provided however by name, by affinity, by consanguinity, or to familiar dynasties are not related. It’s better to try our “luck” with the untested ones for the next three years to see their kind of politics, than to suffer those “same old same old” to go back to make us suffer again instead and to play over and over again with their same old dirty tricks.

Give the rookies a chance as, after all, if they would mess up, just never re-elect them comes next election time to force them to give up. And some younger voters may not be familiar with these old veteran candidates who once occupied those familiar seats with their scepters. I tell you, not one among them made a sudden and significance impact in our law and life but rather they just made themselves rich if not richer.

It is a fact in this country that if you really want to become wealthy, be a politician, not a taipan, as you don’t need to worry about founding a company. For once you got there in politics already, that problem would be immediately solved. A company would establish itself for yourself, with incorporators in droves, yeah, to be your own company, a company of wolves.

It’s a company where success is assured, where the people’s money is transferred and stored. It’s where you apply too what we’ve had studied since pre-school: Mathematical operation. As therein, politics is addition, stealing public funds is subtraction, stashed money “for the boys” (and girls) is division, and accumulated (unexplained) wealth is multiplication.

That’s why while they’re still young I tell my boys to study the Math and do the Math, quick! Lest, they’d only end up later singing America’s music: “You can do magic! You can have anything that you desire, Maah-gic!”