Maraming Pagpapalit Araw

Maraming Pagpapalit Araw

“We’re on the road,
We move from place to place,
And often times when I about to call it home,
We’d have to move along;
Life is a constant change…”
Mga lirikong galing sa kanta ni Jose Mari Chan na Constant Change. Palasak man na maituturing, ngunit ito na nga siguro ang pinaka-akmang kanta kung sakaling may magtanong sa akin ng, “kung saka-sakali, anong kanta ang bagay para sa buhay mo?” Bagaman lahat naman tayo ay nagbabago; at dahil nga ang nag-iisang bagay na hindi nagbabago ay ang pagbabago, siguro ay maaari ko namang sabihin na may mga naging pagbabago sa aking buhay. O sa madaling salita, may nagbago na nga sa akin simula sa aking pagkabata.
Madungis. Makalat. Iyakin. Kilos lalaki kung gumalaw. Madaldal. Malikot. Masungit. Maldita. Maingay. Ilan lang ‘yan sa mga katangian ko noong bata pa ako. Ay, bata pa rin naman ako. Ang ibig sabihin ko ay nung nasa elementarya pa ako. Maiintindihan naman siguro kung bakit ako ganun ‘di ba? Pero ang pinaka-malaking bagay kung bakit ako ganun dati ay dahil sadyang isa akong liberadong bata. Oo, masasabi kong ganoon nga ako, kahit bata pa lang ako. Sa ingles I’m a liberated and an extrovert person. At sa totoo lang, ako’y aamin na nahihirapan dahil alam kong mas maipaliliwanag ko lahat ng ‘to sa wikang Ingles. Isa sa mga malalaking pagbabago sa akin.
Isa sa hindi ko makalilimutan dati ay nang tawagin ako ng aming punong-guro na kumare. Alam kong nag-iisip ka kung bakit kumare. Ano nga bang mayroon kapag mag-kumare? Tama. Dahil sa sobrang kadaldalan ko; yung tipong kahit nag-eeksamen ay nagdadaldal pa rin ako. Hindi talaga maawat kadaldalan ko noon. Halata pa rin naman ba? Marami ang nagsasabing hanggang ngayo’y bakas pa rin ang pagiging madaldal ko. “I just have many things to say,” ang lagi kong depensa. Ang nakakatawa, pag ako’y nanahimik, tila lahat ay apektado. Nagtatanong kung may sakit ba ako o kaya’y ayos lang ba ang pakiramdam ko. Siguro nga’t malaking epekto sa mga taong nasa paligid ko ang aking pagdaldal. Pero hindi tulad ng dati, tila ngayo’y kaya ko ng manahimik. Lalo na’t kung hinihingi ng pagkakataon.
Katulad rin ng nasambit ko kanina, ang wikang Ingles ay may malaking impluwensya sa mga pagbabago sa akin. Nakakahiya mang aminin, pero simula bata ako, mas laging mataas ang mga markang nakukuha ko sa asignaturang Ingles kaysa sa Filipino. Nakakahiya sa kadahilanang ako’y daang porsiyentong Pilipino. Bagaman pinipilit kong hasain pa ang aking pagka-Pilipino tungo sa wikang Filipino, sadyang mas napamahal ako sa wikang Ingles. Mahal ko ang Filipino, sana’y di mo mainterpreta ng mali. Pero katulad na nga rin ng aking nasambit kanina, nahihirapan talaga ako pag Filipino. O siguro, mas napalapit lang ako sa wikang Ingles kaysa sa Filipino. O kaya’y, pwede bang akusahan ang mga eskwelahan ko ng elementarya’t hayskul dahil sa mga alintuntunin nilang Speak English at all times? Sa buong katotohanan, mas marami pa rin akong gawang tula at iba pang literatura sa wikang Ingles kaysa sa Filipino. Ramdam ko, napipinto rin ang araw na mahahasa ako ng tuluyan, lalo na’t sa pakikipagtalastasan, sa wikang Filipino. Bagaman ngayon, I’d still prefer to talk in English.
Pangarap—isa akong taong maraming ganoon. Mga aspirasyon, mga bagay na gusto kong maabot. Isang mekanismo ko ang pangangarap upang maging ako kung ano man ang gusto ko maging. Ipinagmamalaki ko na kung ano ang pinangarap ko noong elementarya ako, ay unti-unti ko ng inaabot ngayon. Bagaman noong hayskul, dumaan din ako sa pagbabago ng mga hilig at prayoridad, sa huli’y kinukuha ko na ang laging kong sambit na, “I want to be a doctor someday.” Nakakatwang isipin, nung nag-aaplay ako sa mga unibersidad, ang lagi kong sinusulat sa first choice ay kung ‘di AB Asian Languages and Literature, ay BS Physics at BS Psychology. Laging pang-huli lamang ang BS Biology o kung ano mang tungkol sa pagduduktor. O kaya naman ay BS Civil Engineering. Prayoridad, kagaya nga ng sinabi ko, mas praktikal kung maging employer ako kaysa maging empleyado. Sabi ng aking nanay, kung hilig ko raw talagang magsulat, maaari ko naman daw gawing sideline ito kung duktor na ako. Higit pa’t hawak ko ang sarili kong oras kung saka-sakali. Sana nga.
Hindi ako ganun kasaya sa kung ano man ako ngayon. Not that I have regrets, pero alam ko, at pati na rin ng mga taong malapit sa akin, na may mas maibibigay pa ako. Dahil sa totoo lang, may mga ilang bagay pa rin sa aking sarili na tila’y tubig na maputik: maraming tanong, kulang na mga kasagutan. Mga bagay na kung minsan malaki ang epekto sa akin. Hindi sa pagmamayabang, pero kung magseseryoso, alam kong kaya kong maging iskolar. I just don’t have that drive to do so.
Ekspektasyon. Mabigat na pagtulak ng pwersa. Hindi ko mahanap ang sinasabi nating halaga ng buhay. Minsan, dahil sa sobrang pagod, gusto ko na lang isipin na sadyang lagi lang ako nag-iisip. Overthinking. Sana nga’y ganun lang. Nakakahiya ngang kung kailan nasa kolehiyo na ako’t saka pa ako lumala ng ganito. Hindi naman kasing lala ng mga nagbubulakbol. Kaya nga lang, laging may what ifs at If onlys ako pagkatapos ng pagpalit araw.
Makata man kung iisipin, pero dahil pinili ko ‘to, dapat lang na ako’y manindigan sa aking mga desisyon. Isa pa sa mga magandang pagbabago sa sarili ko, sana.
Totoo nga’t marami pang pagpalit araw na pagdadaanan,
Isang pag-ikot:
dama ko ang iyong pangamba.
“Huwag kang matakot,” ani niya.
Kalauna’y parang kahapon lang ang lahat.
Paglipas pa ng pitong pagpalit araw,
‘di ba’t parang kailang lamang?
At isang taon pa,
Tiyak kong limot mo na – tapos na.

Maliit may nakakpuwing,
Batid natin ‘di ba’t mapipisat din?
-Julienne Navarra, HULI: Paglaon (mula sa Trilohiyang Pangtamad)

Curtain Call.

And like the at most end of performances, it’s time for the curtain call.

 

 

But maybe, not just yet.

 

The spotlight’s on us; I take on the mic.

 

I don’t know if I have manned enough to post my message for you guys. I am, after all, may appear as just another lazy classmate who you once had the doomed chance to be seated with. Or the not-so reliable group mate. Nonetheless, I want to take this opportunity to speak my mind once again.

For once, I never regretted and cried over something I was used to doing. When I thought I have grown up, I never actually did. And thus, the consequences of leaving a group of people I finally came to realize I call friends.  Family. Home. Cliché as it may appear, it was a nice notion. That kind of idea that boils something intangible inside you.

The full two years with you made me realize things. Faith. Desires. Hopes. Goals. And of course Love. These what drive and motivate the young mind of our generation. It’s something worth treasuring and keeping. Those days with you: may it be under an umbrella, or on the chairs and tables of the square canteen, or the shade of the tall, green trees, or; walking and weaving our way through the sea of people.

Yes, the sea of people. As we individually take on our chosen paths, I yearn for our paths to meet. And then, we bow. Flowers are tossed.

Momentarily, the curtain is called. ‘Til we meet again. 

 

 

I would love to hate everything about you…

except that your almond eyes speak more than your lovely mouth.

except that your nose isn’t real but it doesn’t get long, way better than real but could lie a thousand years.

except that your pink, plump, luscious lips are always filled of better judgment. For others—always thinking about others.

except that your ears will always yearn for that good music you long to give but has been given by you already, even from the start.

except that your rosy cheeks that contain the lone dimple that discards the abnormality of itself.

except that your beautiful long slender fingers fondle the piano and saxophone so well.

except that your goddamned of a body is perfectly sculptured, it’s inhumanly possible not to be devoured noticed.

except you’re too goddamn of a selfless idiot. I hate every fucking selfish bastards instead.

except that you’re an angel born on a lovely rainy day. Definitely sent from up above.

 

except that I love you too much that it hurts. I hate myself instead.

 

 

—–

©JN2013

Ethereality of Mortality

Those three words are said too much; too much certainly, that they may have lost its own candor—innocence even. They might… No scratch that. They’ll never be enough. And thus, I shall negate everything that’ll come out from your mouth. Everything that’ll escape between your lips—the very same with pink, plump flesh that I yearn for. And the very same where I have seen that lured mine even with full cognizance that behind it were pair of beautiful, long fangs. I let myself be bitten.

I shall address the familiarity the image is giving me: the contrast of how saturated the picture despite the wryness radiating from it.

And that’s how polar our personalities can be. Indeed, you’re due west, and I’m on a straight line heading east. And we may travel along the equatorial line, the tropic of cancer or the tropic of Capricorn—it won’t matter. For as long as the Earth rotates on its axis we’re bound, destined even, to meet each other again.

As the turtle races towards the sun, with it shall be the length of my loving of you. I shall whistle of a happy tune: no one shall know I’m afraid and lost without the nearness of you.

As the water flows down the river or run deep in the vastness of the seas, with it shall be the gentleness and tenderness of being with you.

And…

As the fire blazes it ferocity shall come with it the burning passion and desire to love you over and over again.

—–

©JN2012

Sur Vie

           Time momentarily stops. The sight of the fierce ball light, announcing its arrival, shining frantically above the horizon. Enthralled by your sweetness—I start to see the beauty you behold, that truly indeed: you only can posses. The languid touch from the surfaced details of your skin that I yearn to touch so dearly; the distinctive smell will never be unearthed from the folds of your body, which with much certainty I know more than mine; the diverse tastes that I may or I may not fear for its vastness and broadness, and; the euphonious melodies you play that I want to hear every now and then. All these, I am familiar with. Run off to the grasslands that is still damped in dew from the morning mist; the butterfly was lured to touch the colorful petals. The farmer starts by plowing his land.

           Behold not: I could only mouth the words I want to speak of your austerity. Halfway through, I feel the seething heat from the midday sun when it’s strongest. As the grime flourishes with greens I consume, and the rainbow that brightens even more the shine. And for awhile, having been facing each other, I have witnessed such that I doubt—that the whole point, perhaps, has been lost. The years spent together, if truth to be told, are confirmations of strife. And that’s what this is: a continuous striking of the metal whilst hot. As you forge me according to my will, I shall take beatings if necessary; nor too soft or too severe. I see the farmer has taken off his oeuvre for his helper’s puddle of mud. I have retracted my finger back; but even words cut through without even wounding you.

           Do not opt for things to be always at the better hand. In my solemn and sincere reverie, there are things I realized that could’ve shoot the stars but had had hit the moon. Take me in your arms as we lay under the afternoon sun—as the orange sea obliterates alongside with the azure of long and wide seas, connecting distances. Never thrive in the shadows of what has passed and never, too, live alone for the second chances this world may offer. We heave from them but only because what matters most is the gift of time: the present. In admittance, we shall seize every opportunity to turn rocks into stones. Intertwined, heated and consented; the scent will linger. At end, the flower will blossom along with the memory of the chance. The farmer harvests what he has sown.

           The rain falls down—leaves dancing as they race towards the ground. The young night seemed vivid than that of the usual; I wish for these years not to wane but to coalesce the both of us. It is my biggest desire to spend the remaining days together. The blanket of stars above with the soil, our bed. “Don’t be afraid,” you told me yourself. Isn’t it like it was just like yesterday? After seven cycles of the sun, a week should have passed. One year later, we have forgotten about this. I hope for the farmer to sell more of what he had harvest.

            The day breaks in and gave new light. Ending the darkest night I’ve ever had; the early bird comes chirping in tune to the music played through. The fowls cackling, regaining their lands.  As a new day unfolds – Hope is a dream that never sleeps. The sun bathing me in its shines, I want to be with you again. Estranged no more; but with courage to meet you.

 

©JNavarra2012

On Faith

This is a message I sent to my friend.

 

I’m sharing you my decision regarding the questions I have on faith. But before all these, I’m sharing you first a story my math teacher told me. I actually told him about the queries I have regarding on faith, religion that is.

We should not blame Philosophy of Man. The only purpose it holds is to aggravate the analytical and logical thinking of man; more than ever, to understand the people itself. It never has something against on faith and the beliefs we have as a person. However though, it will help you, if not force you, to decide on things to lead you on as man who lives on the surface of earth.

And then, we can compare it to a road that suddenly splits into two. And there you are: in the intersection, not knowing, unable to decide on what road to take, and possibly; afraid of the things each path will lead us to.

As we were young, we have already have built and convicted ourselves on the things the adults have taught us, and unfortunately, some have been badly inflicted on us. It can never be avoided; there will come a time when we will be exposed to the half-truths this world has, many of them. It’s up to us, now growing, to continue living in the intricately fabricated world, and then never grow up, or seek the other halves and be enlightened. To continue on the things we have convicted ourselves into since or to choose the other path, and find and build again the things you really want to believe in.

However though, there are who are afraid to take risks, afraid to leave the comfort zones, afraid for the walls to crumble and to forever falter. And so, they chose to stay there at crossroad, not knowing they have started their unending abating.

I have chosen to start on the other path, if I may call it that. And on my humble opinion, I believe that it is better to have it like this since I will gain more knowledge, wisdom is ubiquitous, in my chosen profession. I will not leave the Catholic faith; nonetheless, I will not stand or condemn things I think are against my own beliefs and perceptions. I have given it another chance, and I got some answers. I have given it another chance to believe in Him. And I got this.

It’s not a matter of loving the religion or whatnot. It is a matter of standing and convicting to things you think and feel are right. It’s not just about seeing and hearing. It is about seeing, hearing, thinking, seizing and most of all, acting. Imbibe the scenes, the noises, the thoughts and the acts that’ll help you build yourself into a better you.

I’m halting forever the questions that only lead to more questions. Nevertheless, I am not stopping to find points I will need in forming the person I want to be. And thus, to continue on with life, armed with new knowledge and presence of mind.

 

“Transform your life. Rewrite your destiny.”

 -Paulo Coelho, Aleph

Silica

A rarity I have found – gemstones

           Cluttered at the bottom core.

It rains: music, a lullaby. You

            Are like a minute piece

To a sudden burst of love that consumes.

 

Wuthering, towering, pounding height;

I commenced although you end.

            For we shalt dance

To a tune played softly by our hearts.

 

I desire,however; was not given the chance

            To pick up the precious stones.

A liaise of rubicund, fawn, azure, and;

The most favorable of all: your chartreuse.

L’epifania Di Avere La Varicella.

I had hopes of being with you today; only to be ceased by waning years of faith. Inevitable as it has been described, you tried every possibility to stay away from me. You know I never wanted this; we never wanted this to happen at all. As we have always said since, it wasn’t in our means. Don’t blame me here! When I need you the most – forget it, maybe I was being selfish. But, haven’t you thought of my discourse? It’s slowly yet recklessly eating us up. How can it be? I thought you’re protecting me until eternities are over. I have thrived in my self-loath yet again. This, I can no longer feel anything. Covered in unending blisters of failures, and feverish demises; my unjust admonish. Have I fallen under fallacious leagues? Let me falter in your favor – take away my uneasiness and insanity. Fulsomely, tears that we’ve been holding back, finally, have flooded us.

Help me not to worry; alleviate my feared and scarred dreams. Let me find myself in you – I hope to finally have those hopes of being with you again, someday.

 

 

©JN2011

Enmity For Youth.

On an early Sunday morning, Amor had to go out with her parents for a Sunday Mass. She hated this time of the week. She hated it for she can’t play with her playmates. She envied them because she knows they can play whenever they want – even on Sundays. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll just pray for an hour then we could play again,” her mother reassured her. But she knows better than this; it’ll be an hour of boredom, madness, and lame preaching. She tried to behave herself to prove she’s been better. She listened intently to what the Reverend Father is preaching. Oh! But she can’t wait any longer. She drifted to her imagination with her playmate playing around – under the hot sun of May. She can’t wait to share all the chocolate she made by herself last night. She was sure ready to go when the Father announced that the mass has ended. Freedom! She shouted in her head. Now, she can play ‘til she gives up herself.

 

They headed home after an agonizing hour she thought. She went straight to get her chocolates and she even left one for her dad. Outside their house was her haven. She couldn’t longer contain the happiness as soon as she held out her hand to give away the chocolates she made to her playmates. She thought no one would stop her until her mom did so. “Amor, come in for a second. We have something to talk about,” her mother called out. She reluctantly went in. Her whole body was being dragged by her feet. And as soon as she got in of their house, she knew it. She knew it all along! “What have I done mom, why do you I have to be back here?!” But her mom never responded. Instead she saw flares and dust of smoke arising from her back. She even saw the melted chocolate she made in her dad’s hands. “What’s happening? Mom, Dad?” No one ever responded her queries. What answered her though was the loud music of the fire trucks and the police cars that’s now surrounding their house.

 

“The child! The child did it! She even gave my children chocolate with glass shards! That child is a demon!” cried a woman outside their house. The woman was already set to hurt her. Amor then ran towards the police behind her. “Protect me Mr. Police officer. I’m afraid of that woman,” she said while hiding behind his back. “Stop these fallacies young woman!” the police said while spanking her head. “You’re under arrest for murder and frustrated murder. You think you can hide forever in this childish façade? It was you who did all of this demonic acts! How could you kill your own parents?”

 

 

©JN 2011

Bakit Ako at Hindi Ikaw ang Dapat Maging Superhero

Kilala mo ba si Juan Dela Cruz?

 

Hey! Ya know Juan Dela Cruz?

 

 

 

 

Maraming years na rin ang nakakalipas. Who na nga ba knows si Juan Dela Cruz? Duh. Whose that shit?

 

I dream for the future of this, my beloved, country. I believe that the future, an expedient one that is, will be of by the next generation of Juan Delacruzes.

 

Yayabong daw ang ‘Pinas; yayaman daw ang bawat Pilipino. Bullshit. Anong kagaguhan meron dito?

 

Paulit-ulit. Maraming beses na tayong sumubok. Pero sino nga lang ba ang nasa rurok ng tagumpay? Hindi ko alam, at mas lalong hindi mo alam, dahil tayo ay mga aminadong bulag sa nakakasilaw na katotohanan na ang bawat isa ay alipin – aliping wala na nang pagkakataon upang maging isang malayang tao. Pero baka meron pa. Aasa ba tayo?

 

We’re slowly falling down. I can see stars, zenith of blanket of castles of Spain; a far far away land, away from this barren land of ours. My love – it has disappeared among the vague realities, just behind the showers of lies.

 

Tanga sila. Masahol pa sa mga taong walang pinag-aralan. Matagal na tayong mayaman mga parekoy. Hitik na hitik sa bunga. Ngunit hinayaan lang nating kainin ng mga asal talangka. Andiyan lang. Nakakalat sa kalsada. Maglakad ka ng kaunti. Nakita mo na?

 

Kumusta nga pala buhay sa Amerika? Gago.

 

 

 

 

 

Mga kapatid, malapit na ho ang katapusan ng mundo. Tayo’y manalig sa Kanya! Ililigtas Niya tayo! Manalig! Tayo’y magsama-samang magdasal upang tayo’y mailigtas!

 

Putang ina. Sinong umutot?

 

 

 

©JN2011