Sana Umulan

Summer, for all its intense heat and long-drawn days, conjures the oddest memories. What I like most about keeping a journal is I can slip through that pocket of time, see things in vivid detail, and think about what I would have done had things turned out differently. More often than not, I find that I would not have had my life any other way.

This is one of those memories. One of my very few entries written in Tagalog for someone. A re-posting from the original, created April, 2004.


“Sana umulan,” ang parating bulong ng aking kamalayan. Kahit nuong highschool pa lang, tuwing umaga pag lalabas ako ng bahay at magsisimulang maglakad papuntang eskuwelahan, ang unang dasal ko parati, “Sana umulan…” At pagkatapos makapag-antanda ay saka ko lang isusunod ang mga taong naghihirap sa mundo, ang mga gutom, ang mga walang matirhan, ang aking mga kaibigan, ang lola ko, at ang pamilya ko. Ngunit nauuna talaga sa isip ko ang ulan.

Hindi naman siguro malakas na ulan, tulad ng ipinagdadasal ng karamihang estudyante. Hindi ko naman gusto yung tipo ng ulan na babahain nang lubos-lubusan ang ka-Maynilaan. Binabaha rin kasi ang kalye namin, at pumapasok pa sa loob ng bahay kaya mahirap ding hingin yun, gustuhin ko man dahil mawawalan nga naman ng klase.

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung kung nasa loob ka ng bahay at nasa may kusina at nagkakape’t pandesal (o pag sinisipag ang tiya ay naiisipang mag-champorado), isang mahinahong tunog ng pagmartsa ng patak lang ang maririnig mo galing sa nagpapalakpakang yero at ulan. Marahil ay nakikipag-usap ka sa tiyahin mo, o sa lola mo, o sa kaibigan mo na naghihintay ng paghupa ng masamang panahon pero hindi niyo kailangang magsigawan dahil sa sobrang lakas ng tunog ng bagsak ng tubig sa bubungan. Naririnig niyo pa naman ang tawa, ang pag-oo at pag-hindi ng bawat isa. (Marahil pati na rin ang tibok ng puso sa pagitan ng bawat paghinga…)

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung hindi malakas, at hindi rin paambon-ambon lang. Yun bang kung lumabas ka sa kalsada at maglakad, ay para bang may karamay kang kaibigan. Yung para bang gusto mong makihiyaw, magtampisaw, at sumabay sa paghalakhak dahil sa isang bagay na nakakatawa na kayo lang dalawa ang nakakakaalam. At kung tatahimik ka ay pabulong na magsasabi ng sikreto tungkol sa lihim na pag-ibig ng buwan sa araw. Ng gabi sa liwanag. (Niya sa iyo…)

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung titingala ka, pipikit, ngingiti, at magpapasalamat dahil alam mong ang ulan na iyong kaibigan, karamay, katipan ay isang pagbabasbas mula sa langit at patunay na may dahilan pang maging masaya habang ika’y nabubuhay. Iyon ang tipo ng ulan na pinapanalangin ko tuwing bago ako lumabas ng bahay.

Ngunit tulad ng maraming bagay na ating ipinagdarasal, hindi ito ipinagkakaloob sa atin. O marahil ay mas naaayon, hindi ito ipinagkakaloob sa atin sa panahong ating ito’y inaasahang dumating.

“Sana umulan,” ang sabi ko sa sarili. Tulad nung gabing nabanggit mo na kailangan mong umalis, mangibang bansa. Kailangan mo munang magpahinga, magpalayo, mapag-isa. May mga panahon din naman na inaamin ko sa sarili ko na hindi kita maintindihan, at hindi ko na pinipilit ang sarili kong intindihin ka. Ang kapal naman ng mukha ko kung isipin kong naiintindihan ko ang bawat pagtibok ng puso mo, dahil lang mahal kita.

Nag-alay na lamang ako ng mumunting dasal na sana kung saan ka man pupunta ay matagpuan mo ang katahimikang hinahanap mo. Inuna ko nang ipagdasal ka, saka ko na lang sinunod ang ulan.

Nang umalis ka, para bang sumama rin sa maleta mo ang ulan. Pakiramdam ko nagtampo, dahil sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, may mas inuna akong dinalangin bago siya. Natandaan ko ang mga araw na nagmamaktol ako sa loob ng mainit at tahimik kong kwarto. “Ang daya-daya mo talaga,” ang sabi ko sa sarili. “Aalis ka na nga, sinama mo pa ang ulan.” Wala tuloy sumabay sa’kin nung tahimik akong nagsisisinghot sa sulok ng kwarto at umiiyak. Para akong bata na nilubog sa mainit na tubig at hinayaang malusaw sa sariling pawis at luha. Inaasahan ko ang lamig na yakap ng ulan, ngunit ipinagkait mo pa iyon sa akin.

Ngayon mas napapadalas ang dalangin ko. “Sana umulan…” Ang tahimik kasi. Ang init. Ang lungkot. Parang antagal na panahon nang huli kong marinig ang pagpalakpak ng ulan sa bubungan. Parang antagal na panahon nang huli akong nakatawa nang malakas kasabay ng isang matalik na kaibigan. At antagal-tagal na ring panahon nang huli akong nakarinig ng kwento ng mga nag-iibigan.

Kailan ako muling mabababasbasan? Kailan muling magkakaroon ng patunay na mayroon pang dahilan para maging masaya? Patuloy akong dumadalangin. “Sana umulan, sana umulan, sana umulan…”






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[ Image credits to pu-sama. ]

Happy Birthday, Hono'o-Chan

I love you as the sea loves the sky -- forever and ever and always. :-*

A Sick, Sad World Episode

Several weeks ago, someone I talked with online a couple of months past called me up asking if I can do a website for a start-up company he's working with. I told him I might not be able to, since I already had my hands full with my regular job then. (It wasn't really that hectic, but I'd rather take things easy, as my friends would know.) Anyway, he told me he'd seen my website and he said he really wanted me for the job. I insisted on the fact that I'm positive can't, and even if I do accept it, I won't be able to prioritize it. He told me to think about it and he'd call me again the following week to see if I might change my mind. Fair enough, I thought, so that was that.

I got the phone call exactly a week after and he asked what I thought about his offer. I said I really won't be able to do it and told him it would be better if he looked into other options. This was when things started to get weird for me. He asked me again what the URL for my website was. So I told him, and he asked if I could hold. Sure, I said. A couple of minutes later, I heard him talking with someone in the background. When he picked up the receiver I said I really had to go since it was already late and I had work the following day. He totally ignored it and proceeded to tell me that he just showed his boss my website and he got the approval to take me in as their designer. "Now wait a minute," I said. I told him again I wasn't interested in doing their website and I already had a regular job that takes up most of my time; I wouldn't be able to prioritize doing their website. He insisted he already made his decision and he really wanted me to do it.

By that time it was already becoming frustrating almost to the point of being rude, so I told him he really didn't want me for the job. I would only cause him problems, I might not be able to deliver on time, and to top it all off, it's been close to two years since I've coded something! (I feel ashamed of this, now that I think about it. I should start doing websites again. Baby steps.) Now, I'm not sure how he was able to maneuver the conversation, but the next thing I knew I was agreeing to meet him and his boss on Monday -- tomorrow -- to talk about the proposals. Of course, I made sure to tell him there's no guarantee I'd agree to do it, only to meet with him and his boss to tell them of my decision if I still wanted to do it or not personally.

So tonight he calls again. "Oh, it's you," I greeted him. He said he just called to remind me about tomorrow. I told him I remember. And then he asked me if I still wanted to do it. I said no, I never wanted to do it, and I never agreed to anything yet in the first place -- only to meet with them for my decision. Then he told me if they were going to have problems with me, it would be better if I just decline so he can look for another person first thing tomorrow.

AND THEN THERE WAS LIGHT!

"You mean to tell me," I began, barely hiding the anger and irritation in my voice, "after our conversation last week and the week before that, you only figured out NOW that I didn't want the job?"

"So you don't want to do it?"

Christ. I think I just popped a vein. "Oh Lord, were you even listening to anything I've said?!"

"Look, I'm just doing business here, and if you don't want to do it, just tell me now." He said it as if I didn't make it clear in the previous phone calls that I didn't want the fucking job, and I'm the bad guy.

"No, I don't want to do it, and good luck." The line was silent. I waited for him to hang up before I put down the phone.

Now, I just want to know: HOW ARE PEOPLE LIKE THAT WITH LIMITED MENTAL CAPACITY FOR COMPREHENSION ABLE TO SURVIVE? SHOULDN'T THEY BE LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS JUST FIGURING OUT HOW TO OPEN A GODDAMNED MILK CARTON? Yeesh. I know a lot of smart, good, unemployed people who deserve the job idiots like the one I just talked with have.

Sigh. Control yourself, Podi. Breathe in, breathe out. There is more good than bad in this world. There is more good than bad in this world. There is more good than bad in this world...