Biyahe

sanay na sanay na ako sa biyahe. bata pa lang ako, ilang beses na kaming nagpalit ng islang matitirahan, lugar na babakasyunan – palawan. manila. palawan. pagbilao. lucena. atimonan. bulacan. cabanatuan. davao.hanggang sa nagka-edad ako at natutong maglakwatsa. manila. baguio. isabela. cagayan. bukidnon. iligan. camiguin. miag-ao. guimaras. jaro. pangasinan. ilocos. davao oriental. surigao. butuan. bislig.

pero kahit may kalyo na ang pang-upo ko, hindi pa rin ako napapagod umalis. lumipat. magpakawala.

nakakapagod mang umupo sa bus ng halos kinse oras, habang nagbibilang ng mga bundok, bahay, pedestrian lanes, pangalan ng mga kalye, hindi pa rin ako napapagod bumiyahe.

dahil para sa akin ang pagbiyahe kung minsan ay pagtakas. kahit di mo alam kung ano ang tinatakasan mo. kahit hindi mo alam kung saan ka dadalhin ng iyong mga paa o ng manibela ng mga drayber na di mo naman kilala.

ang pagbiyahe ay pag-iwas. pag-iwas sa dapat mong kinalalagyan.

takbo dito.

takbo doon.

hala ikot.

at minsan ang pagbiyahe ay paglimot – nililimot ko ng sadya ang mga lugar na nadaanan para lang sabihing may nagbabago sa mundo ko. para hanapin ang kunwari ay nawawala.

hanggang sa tuluyang mahahapo.

sasakit ang katawan. mahihilo. masusuka.

kapagdaka’y babangon muli. bibili ng tiket.

hangga’t hindi nakikita ng tao ang kanyang dapat kalagyan, tuloy lang naman ang paglakbay. at kahit makita niya na ang daang tatahakin niya hindi humihinto ang biyahe. tuloy-tuloy. pero sa pagkakataong iyon, hindi nalang siya iikot ng iikot at magpapakawala.  may patutunguhan na siya.

kaya masarap ang biyahe, kahit nakakapagod.

Tagabuwan

Madalas kang tumingala sa langit

At magtanong

kung bakit hindi mo matiyempuhan

ang pagdating ng mga bulalakaw

o kahit ang mga bituing

ibinabagsak sa lupa

ng kanilang kalungkutan;

Madalas kang magtanong

sa mga hindi dapat pinagtatanungan

kagaya ng mga alikabok

sa kalawakan

na alam mong kahit na kailan

ay hindi makukuhang

ipaliwanag sa’yo

ang pagiging malabo ng mundo;

Madalas kang magtanong

ng mga hindi na dapat tinatanong

dahil ang kasagutan

ay pilit mo lang ikinukubli

at ika’y nagkukunwaring

nalilito, at taga-sunod na lamang

sa dikta ng mahina mong ulo;

At kapag hindi ka naman kinibo

ng iniirog mong buwan

lumalayas ka,

nagwawala sa kawalan;

Paano mo ba mahahanap pa ang kasagutan?

murahin mo man ang sanlibong santo,

wala kang makukuha sa buwan

kundi ang anino nito.

Pagmomoda

Masarap magmoda.

Hindi ko tiyak kung saan nagmula ang salitang ito. Ang naiintindihan ko lang ay tinutukoy nito ang partikular na “mood” ng isang tao na kapansin-pansin sa mga taong nakapalibot sa kanya o kung hindi naman ay “trip” niya lang gawin.

Ang pagmomoda ay kadalasang ginagawa ng mga taong pagod, asar, tuliro, o nung mga trip lang na magmoda.

Masarap magmoda lalo na kung hindi ka sinasaway ng mga taong nasa paligid mo, bagkus ay gagatungan ka pa. Kukunsintihin lalo. O kaya naman, hindi ka na lang papansinin at hahayaan ka lang magmoda hangga’t gusto mo.

Kung ako ay nagmomoda, ganito ang madalas kong ginagawa:

1.) Lalayo sa grupo. Pupunta sa isang sulok o kaya sa isang lugar na ako lang mag-isa.

2.) Maghahanap ng magandang libro. Kunwa’y magbabasa. Nagbabasa naman talaga pero mas lamang ang pagmomoda.

3.) Magkakape mag-isa. Kakain ng chocolate. Kakain ng kwek-kwek. Kakain ng ice-cream na mumurahin. Basta mag-isa.

4.) Maninigarilyo na ngayon ay hindi ko na normal gawin.

5.) Magsusulat ng kung anu-ano. Tula. Kwento. Iguguhit ang mukha ng taong kina-iinisan na may pangil at sungay o kaya bungi.

6.) Iiyak.

7.) Matutulog.

Madalas kong magamit ang salitang ito bilang panukoy sa nararamdamang galit, inis, lungkot – na gusto kong angkinin. Dahil sa tingin ko ay hindi mabuting ibahagi ang nararamdamang galit hangga’t ako mismo, sa sarili ko, ay hindi pa tukoy ang pinagmulan/kahihinatnan ng pagka-badtrip ko sa “state” ng pagmomoda.

__________

Ayan nagmomoda na naman ako. Haaayy. Sarap.

The Moon and the Yew Tree by Sylvia Plath

"This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
The grasses unload their griefs at my feet as if I were God,
Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility.
Fumy spiritious mists inhabit this place
Separated from my house by a row of headstones.
I simply cannot see where there is to get to.

The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet
With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.
Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky -
Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection.
At the end, they soberly bong out their names.

The yew tree points up. It has a Gothic shape.
The eyes lift after it and find the moon.
The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.
Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.
How I would like to believe in tenderness -
The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,
Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.

I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering
Blue and mystical over the face of the stars.
Inside the church, the saints will be all blue,
Floating on their delicate feet over cold pews,
Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.
The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.
And the message of the yew tree is blackness - blackness and silence."

	-- Sylvia Plath.

Para kay Grecil

One for Grecil. Some 300 residents of New Bataan, Compostela Valley province, held an unprecedented demonstration in their town on Wednesday to denounce the killing Grecil Buya and the militarization of their province that have, according to them, caused them misery. That same day, the parents of Grecil — Gregorio Galacio and Virginia Buya — filed murder charges at the Provincial Prosecution Office in Nabunturan against Lt. Francis John Gabawa and the rest of the members of his platoon that killed Grecil during a March 31 encounter with the New People’s Army. The military has said that the Grade Two pupil was a communist guerrilla. Meanwhile, Grecil’s parents and several child-advocate groups said they would likewise file a complaint against the military before a body that monitors the implementation of a land mark human-rights agreement signed by the government and National Democratic Front. (Contributed photo) – repost from davaotoday.com

Justice for Grecil Buya. The family and friends of Grecil Buya, the nine-year-old girl from New Bataan, Compostela Valley, who was killed by soldiers last month, launched a movement this week to demand justice for the girl. The Children’s Rehabilitation Center, a nongovernment group, decried the militarization in the countryside that, it said, is traumatizing children. The Salinlahi Foundation and the Alliance for Children’s Concern criticized the military for tagging Grecil as a member of the New People’s Army. This, they said in a statement, was meant to evade responsibility for her death. An interfaith mission that conducted a fact-finding on Grecil’s death also denounced the military. (Contributed Photo) – repost from davaotoday.com.

Gabriela Women’s Party protest :

DAVAO CITY—The Gabriela Women’s Party-list (GWP) staged a picket rally last April 19 urging the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) Regional Office XI to expedite its investigation on the case of Grecil Buya, the 9-year old girl who was brutally killed by elements of the 28^th Infantry Brigade last March 31, 2007.

Traces

My daughter’s ribbon. Gregorio Galacio, father of Grecil, shows his daughter’s report card and one of Grecil’s unpinned ribbons. (Photo courtesy of Karapatan-Southern Mindanao)

Ribbons, Unpinned

SITIO SIMSIMIN, BRGY. KAHAYAG, NEW BATAAN, COMPOSTELA VALLEY PROVINCE -

Her final average grade was 78.

She got the highest grade in her Makabayan subject, a final grade of 80. While her lowest grades were in Filipino and English – she got 77.

Nevertheless, ribbons were waiting for her on the day of their recognition.

Grecil Buya, a nine year-old student of Simsimen Elementary School wanted to become a nurse.

“Kay gusto man daw siya mutabang sa mga tao nga masakiton (Because she said she wanted to help those who are ill),” Pacita, her mother, said.

With that dream to help other people, Grecil is more than deserving to receive her ribbons of With Honors, Most Neat and Most Clean.

A child who over pours with innocence and yet thinks of caring for people who are ill, definitely deserves to be called Honorable than most politicians who kept bragging about what they had done and what they will do if we give them the power – blinding us of what else are we going to offer them, no, what else are they going to steal aside from our rights and our lives.

Most Clean and Most Neat. I don’t see the point of explaining further. If we would put Grecil beside a candidate who owns GMA-knows-how-many properties, excluding choppers and airplanes, people will know whom to pin the ribbons of Most Neat and Most Clean at.

It disheartened us. Witnessing her parents having to narrate the story over and over – hoping that justice will one day, drop by their doorstep, is a heartbreaking scene. No. It is not an award-winning storyboard for a drama movie. It is reality.

And how many of us are even aware of such stories? The sad fact is utterly disappointing.

An “arinola” where two candles solemnly sat, a cross made from a piece of wood, and a pot of a houseplant were placed at the exact spot where Grecil fell down.

Picturing out a child, no more taller than an M-16 rifle with a wounded elbow and a blasted head would be nightmare. Accusing the child as a child warrior – the child being no more taller than the high-powered rifle that “she was carrying” and “shooting her” because the soldiers had no choice is MADNESS.

Now the Armed Forces of the Philippines is willing to apologize if the allegations that Grecil was an NPA soldier is cleared, initially finding out that she was not even a 12-year-old boy which they previously claimed. And they are not even sure right now if it was them or the NPA who shot the girl?

Gen. Carlos Holganza, in behalf of your team who claims to protect the people of this country, hear this: That is the sickest thing that you could say, lest you want justice be served to Grecil, her family and to the traumatized population of Purok 6, Sitio Simsimin in New Bataan.

If Grecil was alive right now, she could have kept her ribbons in a make-shift frame, display it on the living room and live-up to the awards that says With Honors, and Most Neat and Clean. Who knows, she could be a nurse too.

Then, she could have helped heal this sick country run by ill-mannered officials and hallucinating defenders.

________________

Grecil Buya, 9 years old, was killed last March 31 around 9am by an element of the Armed Forces of the Philippines in an encounter with the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines, the New People’s Army. The AFP soldiers claimed that she was a child soldier of the NPA. Her family and friends denied such accusations.

In a recently concluded National Interfaith Psychosocial First Aid Mission sponsored by the Kabiba Alliance for Children’s Concerns in Mindanao and the Children’s Rehabilitation Center – Southern Mindanao Region Office, the Kabataan Party list – Southern Mindanao was able to talk to the family of Grecil Buya and some neighbors who firmly assert that Grecil was not an NPA soldier. Kabataan Partylist was also shown with Grecil’s report card, ribbons and other legal documents.

Kabataan Partylist, where author is a public information officer, is the sole youth party vying for a seat in the coming elections.

Story also posted here.

Siopao

Kakatapos lang ng Mahal na Araw. Ang naging bakasyon ko?

Tumambay sa bahay. Nag-horror movie marathon. Nakipaglaro sa pamangkin ko. Nagmuni-muni. Nagbasa ng Ana Castillo. At natulog sa likod ng bahay namin kasama ang bunso kong kapatid na si Chyla.

Siyempre dahil nga bakasyon, kanya-kanyang uwian ang mga tao. Hindi na rin kami nagkaroon ng pagkakataong mag-bonding ng karelasyon ko.

At dahil sa halos isang linggo naming di pagkikita, naisipan kong dumalaw sa kanya.

Linggo. Ika-8 ng Abril. Bandang alas 10 ng gabi.