My Room and My Self

For a couple of years of regularly coming home to the province, I chose not to sleep in my room. I occupied my brothers' room instead. At first, I only wanted a new-yet-familiar room. It gave me that exciting feeling but still welcoming. Until it became a habit.  Just recently, when I came home again to attend a friend's wedding the next morning, Mama told me I should sleep in my room. I asked why. Mama would probably say because it's my room yet she simply replied that she had the sheets in the other room cleaned. Funny that I have to ask why I should sleep in my room when it is my room. Suddenly, I realized that I learned to detach myself from what I own, what I have.  As I entered my room, I felt an old kind of warmth welcoming me. I looked around, nothing much has changed. Despite the fact that this room was often used by my sister-in-law and my niece when they visit the house, it still looks the way I remember it to be. My enlarged photo hanging above my dresser is still an eyecatcher. Posters of my favorite anime character - Sailormoon, remain stuck at my cabinet doors, badly faded. The Venetian blinds I used to play with while studying are slightly pulled up when I would have preferred them down. Except for the broken TV and the remote-controlled electric fan, everything stayed the way they used to be. I could tell from what I see and feel that I belong here. This is really my room. In analogy (here we go again), my returning to my room reflects a symbollic return to myself. After so much bemusing and wandering, trying new things and meeting new faces, learning and failing, it gives me much pleasure that I still have a grip of myself. Knowing myself creates this security in me. I may have gone to places, but when I'm lost and confused, I would just have to sit back and think of myself. Because myself is the only person I can rely on, love and help most. Myself is the only person who could help me. Sometimes I forget that significant fact. And sometimes I decide to forget myself and look for someone else to cling on to. Only in the end, o would only have myself. I still have to muster that so that everytime I would be challenged by this cruel world, I could easily drag my big self to face it.  Welcome back to your room, Tinao! Welcome yourself back.

The Proposal

Far the stretch of the shore

Enveloped by skies of darkness

Songs playing who knows what for

Breeze enfolding with tenderness

These things bring no less but more

To that moment when you professed

Your love underlining what’s in store

For both of us ahead, more or less

Was I only dreaming when you asked

‘Will you marry me?’ that night

Or did that moment came too fast

I thought I did not hear you right?

But in my heart, I felt, at last

My prayer’s granted tonight

Because it then came to pass

A love’s here to keep, if I might

No dreams, no movies, no fantasies

Would compare to how you made me feel

We danced, we embraced, then we kissed

You cried, I smiled, we would stand still

You told me this was your fervent wish

I thought I was born to make it real

So underneath the stars, I said, unease

‘Yes, I will marry you!” with a thrill!

I really don’t mind if you don’t have much

So long as you are there for me

To have and hold, or to get in touch

When miles away you are to me

Near or far, in cases as such

Of my love you are always worthy

For we share a love where two’s a match

And where a ring’s not much necessary.

- by Tinao | May 14, 2010

Sasabado Heat and Hits

It's one of the icky, inconvenient Saturdays of summer when I'm leaving my half-day period at work aboard an airconditioned bus. The plus of hopping in a public vehicle from Ayala at past half of noon: you get to choose your seat where you're most comfortable -- and where you get to avoid the aircon blast stiffening your hair and making you catch a cold when you get out. The long 45-minute trip back home would usually be an opportunity for me to get my nganga-sleep. You know, that kind of sleep when you're just too tired from work and you rest your head back and minutes after you're sleeping with your mouth open. Disgusting but natural. Deciding on how beautiful you would look while sleeping is not really one of the 'optional' things we have on earth. I was ready to doze off, until a Korean lady hopped in from Megamall. Let's call her 'Sasa', in reverence to this Korean lady who made my Saturday delightful. Sasa hopped in the bus but chose not to sit herself amidst the many vacant seats. She just stood beside the driver, held onto the rail while the bus drove on. The konduktor (he who collects the fare) told her that there are still many vacant seats at the back. Sasa replied 'I'm off at the next stop.' To which the konduktor said, 'Ano daw?' The guy next to me, in kindness, clarified what she said 'Bababa daw sya sa Ortigas.' To this the konduktor insisted that she take her seat and Sasa obliged. But then the driver was alarmed, the bus is taking the Flyover route, which means that it will take Sasa farther from Ortigas if she's off at the next stop rather than if she drops off before the Flyover. And so Manong Driver told the konduktor to tell Sasa to get down before the Flyover. To this, the obedient konduktor approached Sasa scratching his head and said, 'Ma'am, me up, you down!' The bus was immediately filled with the passengers' roaring laughter, including my own. The lady beside Sasa courteously explained that she has to get down or she'll walk farther going back. So Sasa got down. End of the story. It was a delight, not to be sarcastic, to hear the konduktor speak in English. According to him, he was caught in a do-or-die situation where he gave all he has got. He made all the efforts to communicate, no matter how others may think he was committing nonconformity to the subject-verb agreement. Screw that. What matters is he was able to relay his message, and Sasa, to an extent, understood the message. It counts to communicate. It brings you to where you want to go.