Stories of Pride
Marahil, hindi mo batid,
pero, madalas kang sumasagi
sa’king isipan.
Lalong-higit lahat ng
ipinaramdam mo na hanggang
ngayo’y ipinagdadamot sa’kin ng
tadhanang maramdamang muli —
ang masabik, ang pagmasdan
ang kumpas ng relo at bilangin
ang bawat oras, minuto, segundo
bago ka muling magpakita.
The COVID-19 pandemic has further revealed the entrenched inequalities in our society. It has yielded bare deep divisions and goes disproportionately after the underprivileged. Already, we’re seeing how the poor people of the nation are made to choose between dying from hunger or dying from the disease, while the rich remain to believe that these people are merely being stubborn — lacking the discipline that is demanded by the Philippine government through Enhanced Community Quarantine (ECQ), when in fact, it is the privilege these rich people have that enable them to easily follow the rules.
The Philippine government has been bragging that as early as March 16, they had the initiative to implement a lockdown in major cities and provinces of the country in response to the unfolding COVID-19 pandemic. Yet, Manila’s overall response to the pandemic has been fraught with incompetence and filled with terror. The implementation of ECQ came on the roots of serious negligence, namely, the officials failing to keep up with the preventive actions of neighboring countries and grossly underrating the virus. Even worse, rather than easing the overall burden that the virus unleashed on the country, it appears that the last resort lockdown itself added to a plethora of adversities without adequately addressing the central crisis at hand: guaranteeing public health and safety.
Kabilin-bilinan ni Mamang dati, kapag pahinog na ang gabi at ako’y naliligaw, ang mahalaga lang ay huwag daw akong magpapahinga. Sundan ko lang daw ang araw sa kanluran. Ang mga ibon na papauwi sa kanilang pugad-tagpuan. Ang simoy ng dapit-hapon.
Dagdag pa niya, huwag ko raw kalimutang gumalaw, lumakad, tumakbo — mas matulin, mas malayo. Kapag inabutan ako ng bukang-liwayway sa daan, ligtas na raw ako. Pero kanino? Sino ang dapat katakutan? May halimaw ba sa daan? Basta! Ang dapat na huwag ko lang gawin ay palipasin ang gabi nang hindi gumagalaw.
This was a draft I began writing on the night of December 31, 2020. I am not sure why I didn’t get to finish this. I am publishing this now with some thoughts I’ve added, four days later.
I’ve been mulling about the years that have passed, and I picture curtains closing. There’s nothing that pushes me further down into introspection like the waning high of the years that were.
For the last decade, I had seen the wretched events of my life. I don’t remember them in sequence — the mishaps that I’ve faced. I only recall those I regretted the most. Like the friends I had lost grip of because I was too absorbed with how to iron out my personal quests. The opportunities that knocked right in front of me, but I didn’t welcome. And the things that I’ve lost and never found — a dream, a feeling, and the billowy blue shirt I’ve recklessly misplaced when I was 17.
After watching the film adaptation of Call Me By Your Name, I tried to rationalize why this specific piece resonated with me. Unblinking, unmoving, there is no way I would miss it, I can’t miss it. In the back of my head, I can picture the author trying to justify to himself what the feeling of loss is. Gut-wrenching, perhaps.
As I was reflecting on it, it made sense to me. Reification. That’s the word that dawned to mind. To make something so obscure transparent. To make this enigmatic sense of loss into something one can take, into something one can either nurture or torture. To reify a consuming pain and make it as present as a scar that you could heal or let decay.
These past few days, I’ve been feeling a sense of uncertainty. It usually hits me every time I am alone and musing, as if I’m straddling between two strange forces. My emotions were all out of whack, and my thoughts were disordered. Luckily, I know better now. So, I’ve channeled these feelings towards something I love to do when the going gets tough, something I’m passionate about — writing.
Stories of Pride