Thursday, July 30, 2015

At 45


She’s old enough to think and behave like her age, but right now, she’s behaving like an infant straight out of the crib. Maybe, Mother had spoiled her with too much bad milk that must have stunted the growth of her brain; and so, as a consequence of spoiling her, Mother had to suffer. At 45, she tried to justify her lack of foresight, her abject ignorance, and all the weaknesses in her character by pointing out that she is the youngest of the three sisters; but at 45, that’s hardly justifiable anymore, considering that there were only two or three year gap between her and her sisters; which more or less even out the differences in years. At 45, she was supposed to make some discernment in her judgment because at 45, a woman is supposed to have reached her peak as a person, everything that goes from there would be going down; a downward spiral, that is, they say. So, if you’re not getting sense at 45, there’s no hope you could still get some sense at all towards the end of your life.  Besides, I knew of so many people who are much younger than her and yet, they make sense. They would not just leave a sick man alone or ask someone to quit their job in 10 days or else. They can’t even abandon a sick kitten. But she, as a shock, would have a stranger in the house for company of her two ageing parents because suddenly she wanted to serve other sick strangers abroad. Some people have well developed sense and sensibilities, which are utterly lacking in some people like her at 45. At 45, she cannot stand my reasoning, so she preferred to assassinate my character in front of a domestic help who knows nothing about the world. At 45, a person is already considered middle-aged, a scary phase; it is assumed that she has gone through life’s numerous learning experiences. To be haplessly ignorant at 45 is such a big shame for there are so many things she could have known at 45, which she would not have anticipated at 20. Right now, she’s behaving like she missed some important learning of some 25 years of life. She’s utterly lacking in sense and sensibilities alone. She’s such a pathetic character, this woman of 45. 

Chanced Meeting?

That afternoon, I was a bit restless. I thought I needed to go to Upper to find out the next schedule for copra. I asked Ma if she wanted me to go, but Ma said, it’s getting dark, it’s not good to be out at this hour. I said I waited for the sun to cool to be able to go; and so, disregarding Ma and her fears, I walked out of the house all the way to the Crossing to wait for a ride.  I did not like the look of the motorcycles I met along the way. I did not like the look on their faces, those calculating look. So I texted him if he was in B’la. He said yes and asked if  I needed a ride. I said I was at the Crossing on my way to the Upper B’la and when I turned around, I heard a motorcycle engine revving up, and saw him emerged from under the trees. We were already a way off when I asked him where he’d been when I texted because it seemed he was just very close by. He said he had been up to your house. “His house?" I froze. "Is he here?” 
"Yes," he said. 
“Let’s go back, " I said.  
“Why?" he asked. "He is so busy, he’s got work to do.” 
“Let’s go back,” I said.
And so, he turned the motorcycle around so fast that before I knew it, we were already in your house, the motorcycle going right up to your front yard, what would your mother say? I did not know what to do. He stopped and pointed to you, “There, he is,” he said, saying your name. “That is him!” 
When I looked up, I saw several you’s at the same time, all seated there under the tree; and the eldest one, wearing a dark blue polo shirt, was looking at me, nodding, confused. Briefly I was able to say, “Just excuse us, we’re just passing by,” and then, we were gone, me, trying hard to hold on to the back of the motorcycle without touching his shoulders, and then, when we passed a hump, bumped upon his shoulders anyway.
We left you wearing a puzzled look on your face, watching me very closely; watching me and our friend sped away. 

Lover's Tryst

Will I ever have a chance to tell you at the right moment and the right time how you played an important part in my life, that the memory of you astride a horse treading the river ford is forever etched in my mind? Will there be a right moment and a right time now that we no longer own our time, our space, our bodies?

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Friday, July 10, 2015