THE PRINCE AND HIS ESCORTS

The Two Phases

2010-11-04T15:57:00.000-07:00

now....

then!

Why Princekulas?

2010-11-04T15:50:00.000-07:00

There are so many questions why am I using this alias?Some of my friends at the social network Facebook often ask me the same question over and over again, and I would answer them the same thing over and over again. Why the name Princekulas?

It has been olenty of years ago when, way back to my former working place in Al-Qassim, Saudi Arabia, that I have met plenty of friends, whom, I have been in contact until these recent years. It is quite a simple notion that I was so amazed with the name Nicholas, somehow it just come into my idle mind, I am doing anything that time (but I am sitting at the shop), looking at the things that we are selling, and thinking of the next customer to come in and look for our goods. Suddenly, the name Kulas came into my mind, out of nowhere. And all the while I thought, yeah, I will be better off that way. Kulas seemed to be and exotic name. Kulas... male form. Kulasisi... female form. I might as well have that. So i thought a little bit deeper.

Why the prefix Prince? I was not born a royalty to be called such a title. I was born not on a silver platter, for actually why did I become an expatriate working in a foreign land if I had all the means to live? Prince is such a noble title... and why should I not? And when the time that I came back home for good, I used the name Prince, in honor of the royalties way back in Saudi Arabia, and the Kulas, well, to describe the simple person in me.

I always make sure that I am still the simple person like the way I had been 40 years ago. I was born a simple life, raised in simplicity, without the cravings for the things that in return I could not have. All I had are just simple cravings, nothing more, nothing else. Foods that are just sold on the streets, no fine dining please unless otherwise that I was invited to have one.

I am always the simple man with dignity. I might not be a royalty, but still I am. we all have the capacity to become a royal- with dignity, with poise, observing the etiquette. Some people were born with a silver spoon and yet they don't have the respect of some members of the society. Needless to say, that some people were born out of corruption. I am proud to say that I was neither of the two. It is the same me. The ME that I used to be. The alias may have been royalty-sounding like thing, but hey... I AM SIMPLE, HONORABLE, PROUD AND DIGNIFIED.

My Thoughts For The Day

2010-11-04T05:15:00.000-07:00

Today is the birthday of my mother, and I would like to say happy birthday to the only woman I had ever loved... I just hope she could hear these words.

I always remember her as the simple one. She was full of sacrifice, full of hardships, and yet she never complains. I never heard her say her monologues, I mean, I never heard her telling her woes to us, her kids: against the simple life that we have had before, against every facets and realities of harsh life that we have had known. Still she remained calm, giving us the daily nutrition, not just for food that nourishes our bodies but food for thoughts for our soul.

I always remember her as a religious woman, a prayerful lady. A woman who sang Ave Maria on a high pitch, or the Salve Regina singing it to me like a lullaby. dozing me to sleep, for I don't know yet, as a child, the essence of the song. The song keeps on ringing to my ears up until now, it never faded. I always remember too when she and father sings their favorite song No Other Love. One of the sweetest songs I ever heard, the notes seem not to fade until now too.

I always remember her angelic smile, and her contagious laughters. I always remember her patiently sewing clothes for our keep. I always remember her not getting angry to us. I always remember her chicken tinola, which me, as the youngest in the family, would she give the best parts of the chicken.

Suddenly though, when father died, it is as if she died too with him. Her memory regressed. And when I come back home from a five year work abroad, she never recognized me as her son. Although, way back in my workplace, I always call her, and remind her that her youngest is still alive and well, loved her so much. Suddenly, I found myself crying. Where is she? Where is my Nanay now? Why has time taken the most important person in my life? Why did time rob my mother from me?

I don't know where will I get the answers to my queries. But I have to make a start to win her back, and know that I am at her midst. Patiently, i took care of her, singing her favorite songs. And there are times, say in just less than ten minutes, the lucidity of her toughts come back and she recognizes me already, and those were the few minutes that I am happy, contented that at last she comes back to her senses. But the rest of 24 hour grace periods, I am a nobody to her.

There are so many things that I remember in her. I always bite her ears when I make lambing to her, Or smell her armpit. Or embrace her so tight. How I missed her terribly! How I missed her....

Happy birthday Nanay. I hope you could see your son, crying because he misses you so much, while encpding tis mesage on this blog. I hope that you still could see me on my downest moment, and on every triumph that i have and will have. I hope to see you, and Tatay, and Manang Carling, soon.....

Soon...

THE PRINCE AND HIS DESERT OPUS

2010-11-03T15:25:00.001-07:00

DESERT EXPERIENCE

and

Other Works

Mario G. Barlolong

“without an honest encounter with one’s self,

there can be no real encounter with God”

Tulang Halaw sa Kantang Kinompos in MV Francisco

Ilang hakbang pa ba Ama ang aking lalakbayin

Daan upang ang tahanan mo ay aking marating,

Ilang araw pa ba itong aking bubunuin,

O oras na lang ba ang aking hihintayin.

Sagot Niya’y huwag kang mabagot at ‘di mangamba,

Sa iyo’y hindi pa ako nagsawa sa pagkalinga’

Paraanin ang panahon, ng hindi mamalayan

Na Ako pala’y kumakatok sa iong pintuan.

Oo ng’t ika’y handa pero hindi pa sapat

Minahal mo ba Ako ng lubos at tapat?

Nagbukas ka ban g pinto nu’ng Ako’y kumatok?

Nandiyan ka ba nu’ng mga hapis at dagok?

Dinalaw mo ba ako sa kulungang malamig,

O noong Ako’y uhaw, pinainom mo ba Ako ng tubig?

Ako ba’y pinakinggan mo sa mga problema,

O pinagsarhan mo lang ng iyong mga taynga?”

Hindi Ko naramdaman ang iyong pagdalaw

O Amako, kalian kita natanaw?

Mula pa sa sinapupunan ko hindi na kita nakita

Hanggang ngayon at maging sa pagtanda.

“Dahil ikaw’y aking anak, kita’y aking inalagaan

Kinarga, kinalinga, inugoy sa duyan

Lahat pala nito’y parang walang saysay

Ang ginampanang tungkulin ng buong husay.

“’Di ka ba nagtataka kung saan nanggaling

Ang buhay na ngayon ay malayo na ang narrating,

Ang saya at lumbay, pag-ibig sa kapwa

Ang dunong na ‘yan na sa Aki’y tumutuligsa.

Kailan mo ba Ako huling kinausap,

Hindi mo na matandaan, bakit hindi mo naharap?

Dahil bas a masyadong mabilis ang takbo ng iyong buhay?

Kaya hindi mo nakita itong puso Kong nalulumbay?

Buksan mo ang mata’t tignan ang iyong paligid

Ang hangin, mga puno, mga batang umaaligid,

Buksan mo ang mga taynga upang iyong marinig

Ang mga hinaing, at matamis na tinig.

Iyong isipan anak ko, palawakin mong tunay,

At tuluyang damhin itong Aking salaysay

Ang uso ngayon ay iyong buksan

Upang makapanahan Ako magpakailanman.”

O Ama ko, kapag nagawa ko ba

Ang mga ito ay muli tayong magkikita?

“Oo anak, makakaasa ka

Na mapapasaiyo ang tunay na ligaya”

Onaizah, Qassim

January 28, 1999

Pebrero Noon

Nakatunganga ako’t nakatingin

Sa naglalarong mga butiki

Sa may kisame…

Buti pa sila, enjoy araw at gabi.

Ilang araw na rin bang

Naglalaro ang isip

‘Di mapakali, sa kalikutan ko’y

Naisip ko tuloy ang mga eksenang este.

Huwag nga lang magalit

Sa mga eksenang R-18 without cuts

Dahil ngayong Pebrero ay uso iyan

Lalo na at Year of the Rabbit pa naman.

Hay naku ang buhay ng nag-iisa

Magkakasya na lang ba ako sa palad ni Maria

Hindi naman mairaos ang init kasi kumbaga

Uso na ang sakit ng mga babaeng nakapula.

Heto nga ako’t nagsesentemiento

Wala pa akong card galing sa iyo

Hindi mo ba iseselebreyt kahit diyan ay wala ako?

Ako nga dito’y parang maloloko.

Mabuti nga lang at may picture ka sa akin

Nasa wallet ko pa rin iyon, at ‘di ko tatanggalin

Alam mo ba’ng katabi pa niya iyong condom na bigay mo

Regalo mo sa akin, isang piraso, naalala mo.

Ganito na lang ba palagi ang buhay

Hindi mapakali sa tuwing mahihimlay

Nag-iisip ng kung anu-ano na lang

At ‘di namamalayang ang isip ay pumapailanlang.

At tuluang madudukot ang isang bagay

At maglalaro na nga ang mga kamay

O anu’ng luwalhati ang dulot nito

Lalo’t nandito ka sa tabi ko.

Nakatunganga ako’t nakatingin

Sa mga butiki sa kisame

Pero naglalaro naman ditto sa aking isipan

Gusto ko ring maging butiki kahit minsan lang.

Pebrero na nga ngunit hindi pa makaiskor

‘Di bale na lang

Ako’y magtitiis na lang sa sulat ni Labs

Pero…. Basta….Tiis tiis na lang muna….

Onaizah, Qassim

February 3, 1999

Pebrero II

Umaalon yaong ating higaan

Habang tayo’y sabay na naglalakbay

Patungo sa kaluwalhatian

Halos sabay nating

Narrating ang rurok

Sa pagbilis ng indayog

Sa saliw ng iyong iyak at impit na tawa

Nagkalasug-lasog ang iyong kalamnan

Nabasag ang salamin pero hindi ka nasugatan

Ngunit ang sakit nito katumbas ay ginhawa

Sa ating pangalawa, at pagpapakasawa.

Sumisid akong pababa

At natagpuan ko ang kweba

At ang mumunting perlas na tinatago

Ang sabi mo pa ilabas ang aking dila

Para daw maalis ang sumpa

At iyo’y aking ginawa, inikot ang bungad

At halos gumuho ang lupa

Sa tuwa ng mga anitong nagbabantay.

Tumirik ang mga mata mo, ako’y nag-alala

Umalon ang tiyan

Ang beywang mo’y sumayaw-sayaw

Sa ritmo ng tambol at kiwal nitong dila….

Hindi diyan nagtapos kundi madami pa…

Nalaman ko, panaginip lang pala

Basang-basa ako

Ng malagkit na…

Pawis.

Onaizah, Qassim

February 14, 1999

The Voice

I am listening

To voices of long ago

Haunting me

Now on my solitude.

The cries that I was not

Able to hear then

And the voices so long forgotten

Kept on coming back.

Who owns those voices

Really I don’t know

Faceless voices

Or a guilty conscience?

The voices talked to me

Long, long time ago.

Now, I am disturbed

About the messages.

Who or what, and which and why?

In this cold, eerie night-

No images though, just faceless voices

That linger in the darkness of my thoughts

Calling my name, talking to me

Waking me at dawn… come…

I am hearing the voice now, as it become clear

Becomes sweeter, that I could recognize

That one particular voice

Since I was born

Who created me

Nurtured… loved

Keeps calling me, but in this strange way…

And place.

“Yes, I am Thine”, I answered

And I am listening.

(Buraidah, Qassim: February 16, 1999)

For Annie

Mercurian fingers

Notes fluttering in the air

A cherubic voice

A face of beauty, so fair.

If there’ll only be

A Helen personified

Fathomless pulchritude

I so admired.

Make music! Make music and haste!

Thy music on Phoebus harp

Are Cupid’s arrow so sharp.

O moonless night!

O winged notes

Come, comfort me in this solitude!

O choir of nymphs sing me thy tune!

And play a symphony in the heart of Neptune!

O Cupid strike the heart of my beloved

And fill her heart with all these verses.

O wind, whisper in her ear,

O breeze, thou touchest her face,

My love… in a foreign land…

So far, yet so near.

Buraidah, Qassim

February 20, 1999

Lover’s Innuendo I

“when you love someone, say it outright”

Am I in love….?

That is why I ask myself

The sudden feeling that I felt

Upon seeing your lovely face.

Your sweet smile, your crisp laughters

You became the apple of my eyes

How I loved to be by your side

Just to listen…

Never in my life felt I before…

This longing for your nearness

Was there a strong force that you exude

That attracts me?

Hath Cupid’s arrow struck mine heart?

That I have to comply

If this is love for you that I feel

Then love really is here…

No one will be a hindrance…

In my quest for my princess

Just like a prince of old

To rescue a damsel in distress.

Flowers wither and songs do fade

Castles ruined, empires down laid

A love like mine is built on rocks

To be with you always…

I have found you my dear princess…

The most wonderful voice ever I heard

From amongst the voices

From the choir of angels.

I will be your knight to protect you

To rescue you from your troubles

I will be your prince to comfort you

From the challenges of life…

Enough! Enough for all of these!

Did I answer the question I post?

I am ready to offer my life

To my real joy!

Who brightens up my day

Who gives music to me

To the joy of life

This life have I to lay!

Buraidah, Qassim

February 3, 1999

Thoughts

I can’t understand

Your infinite thoughts

Your words

That kept on

Piercing my bones

Shredding my flesh

Apart.

They say,

you’re not the one

whom I looked up to

since I was born

and until now, ‘til

the end of time

still I’ll be yours.

Why, all of a sudden

They fall from grace

Not knowing that

Your infiniteness

Really in eternal

And a question on you

You could only answer.

They say

Baseless faith have I

For looking up to you

And worship you

How could I refrain

From doing so?

You have given me new life.

Only tears am shedding now

I am sorry

That I had been an accomplice

To put you n that wood.

Accept my heart, my homage

My love and dedication

This I say, and I believe

That YOU REALLY IS MY LORD!

Buraidah, Qassim

March 2, 1999

Thoughts II

There is no escaping

For the reality always come

Like a shadow that

Keeps on following me

Wherever I go.

Enough for this masquerade

Mask I no longer want to wear

Nor just play a role

Which makes me not me

Like in a theatrical play.

It’s so hard to accept

The real me

The troubled mind inside.

There’s a war of wills

And I should gain courage.

Twenty-eight summers now

But… where am i?

Looking for the infinite-

Asking questions unanswerable

A question into realities.

A wounded person that’s inside

But my mask’s smiles-

I have to remove that mask

For you to see my face

And feel my pain.

Too many sad stories to tell

That’s part of my reality

I, am your

You, are mine

Until the end of time.

The pain…the mask

I could no longer last

Tear me apart

For realities always have to comfort

Me… in reality, you are there

Buraidah, Qassim

March 2, 1999

Thoughts III

for Hazel, OSB

walking down the aisle

you looked so beautiful

on your white gown

though not silk, nor satin.

As the Ave Maria is sung

By the cherubs

And you are immersed

By the ray of light.

Happiness radiates in your eyes

The tears do not fall

As you are about to leave

The life of single-blessedness.

Into a lifetime, a commitment

Of dedication

Of compassion

Of state of grace!

You are now on the altar

Where he waits, your groom

As you prostrate

Laid down your belly

On the cold marble floor

Hands spread

As you say

“here I am”

And the groom smiled-

He- who is nailed on the Cross!

Buraidah , Qassim

March 3, 1999

Tula I

Umuugong yaong hanging

Dumadampi sa bahay na bato

Dantaon din naming nakatayo

Hindi natinag ng lindol o bagyo

Ngunit tila itong huling unos ang tanging

Magpapatumba sa matibay na pundasyong

Ilang taon ding naghari…

Gayundin itong punong

Sintanda na ng panahon

Nag-ugat ang mga ugat

Sa kailaliman ng lupa’y bumaon

Ilang bagyo na ang dumaan

Buhat ng ito’y nagkamalay

Ngunit tila yata ito’y mabubuwal

Ang lupa’y nabibitak na

At handa ng bumigay…

Mayroong mga pagkakataon

Na ang puno at ang bahay na bato

Ay katulad ng buhay ng tao

Ang tibay ay humihina

Kahit gaano pa ito katanda

Ang bahay ay magigiba

Ang puno ay matutumba

Matutuliro ang walang pananampalataya

Sa Diyos na lumikha ng langit at lupa.

Ngunit ang bagyo ay lilipas

Ang araw ay sisikat, gaganda ang bukas

At hindi inaalintana

Gaano man kalakas ang bagyo’t unos

Kung matibay ang moog

Ito’y magiging tanggulan pa

Hayaang ang Diyos ang siyang bahala

Sa lahat ng panahon ‘di siya nagpapabaya.

Pag-ibig Niya’y nariyan

Kumapit ka lamang sa Kanya-

Ika’y ‘di mabubuwal, ‘di matutumba.

Buraidah, Qassim

March 3, 1999

To The Untimely Death of Bugoy

“I grieve…. I grieve for my best friend…

It really doesn’t matter if he’s subhuman…”

Why all of a sudden

You have surrendered up your life

In a mysterious way

That even though I was there

I should have not known

The reason

Of your untimely passing.

You are my best friend indeed.

A friend I so loved

For so long a time.

Was it four or five years

Since I have known you,

Took care of you,

Look for your needs,

Just like others before you…

Before you came into my life…

I will be sorry with my self

For not seeing

For the last time.

As I have seen you before

Grew as robust

Mature one.

Maybe because of old age that you go?

Or illness incurable?

Or you just plainly miss me?

Ahh… Bugoy, how lucky you have been

You have found a place of peace

While I am still here struggling.

If dogs must go to heaven

Or heaven have a space for dogs…

You deserved there to stay…

My Bugoy, just wait for me.

Buraidah, Qassim

March 9, 1999

Repleksiyon Noong May Nakita

Akong Babaeng Saudi na Namamalimos

Sa May Khobib

Nakaupo sa isang tabi, tumatawag

ng pansin, ang babae.

‘Di ko tuloy namasdang mabuti

ang tangan niyang paslit

na , animo’y gutom…

ako’y namangha

katulad din pala sila

ng karaniwang eksena sa manila

o sa probinsyang aking kinagisnan…

ewan ko ba?

para ko na ring gustong bumalik, ulit

sa aking lupa… sa aking pagkabata.

(noong ako’y ihinehele ni inay

idinuduyan ni itay

pagkatapos uminom ng

pinaghalong am at gatas)

ahh… ang sarap damhin

ang pagmamahal at pagkalinga

gaya nitong aleng Saudi ditto sa khobib

kalong ang anak, namamalimos…

ng kaunting halala… ng pagmamahal…

(gaya ko ngayong may karamdaman

nangangailangan ng kalinga

sa ‘pinas sila’t ako’y sa arabya…

ang layo kung iisipin… milyong milya

namimiss ko tuloy ang boses ni inay

kung ako’y kakantahan niya’t patutulugin

o tatakutin, o sesermonan’

o ang karaniwang galit ni itay

na alam kong may halong pagmamahal…

gusto ko ng marinig ulit

sa aking pag-uwi

gusto kong umiyak…dahil sa tuwang aking nadarama

sa matinding galak

kelan iyon? Malapit na… tiyak!

Al-Khobib, Buraidah, Qassim

March 9, 1999

Tula sa Paglaya

dumadagundong,

itong, kalooban,

nag-aapoy,

at, nagniningas, ang, bagang,

dinadampihan, ng amihan,

sa panahon, ng taglamig,

at ng pagdarahop!

at ng pakikibaka!

ng pagkakaisa!

unti-unti, gumalaw,

ang kamao,

ang isip, kumilos,

mga labi: nagsalita na,

MAKIBAKA! MAGKAISA!

Tuluyan na ban a magiging Malaya?

Pasasaan ba’t malapit na!

Kailangan pa ba ang gumamit ng dahas

Upang makamit lang ang tagumpay?

Kung hindi ngayon,

Baka ang bukas

Ay hindi na darating pa!

Buraidah, Qassim

March 11, 1999

Y2K

I’m so afraid

Just hearing the word

Could get my hair stand

And heart beat faster!

Will it be the end

Of humankind?

The terminus

Of things that exist

As seers see?

Or the era

Of a new set of rules and ideas?

Of new technology?

Of unity in diversity?

The world will not stop, that’s sure

End will not come this soon…

But who knows….

Will I still be afraid?

Just pray, than rather be!

Buraidah, Qassim

March 11, 1999

(years after the poem was written, the world did not explode)

Verse

Gazed

On the

Infinite…

Half

Thinking

Of you!

(the

Other

Half?

Dunno!

Buraidah, Qassim

March 11, 1999

Cash Register

Cash register na kumukuliling

Walang makain ni katiting

Hayon at nakatunganga na lang

Ang mga zero point zero zero sa moder-moderan.

Ano ba’ng meron ditto na wala sa iba?

(ting!) alam ko na,

Ang presyo’y hindi mababa.

Kawawa naman ang cash register na puti

Nababagot at nagugutom palagi

Pasnesiya ka na baby, at wala pang benta

Hayaan mo, baka meron na, bukas makalaw

Buraidah, Qassim

March 11, 1999

Untitled III

the shop is full

yet empty and bare

too big to fit a football field

but only three could sit.

the noisy silence

could easily break the glass

and wordless sounds, whispers

like the bird’s downs

dropping on the floor.

too colorful yet colorless

too much light yet dim

too much promises that it can’t give

too many attractions that appeals not.

children could run, and walk and play

but where are they?

men and women could exchange tidings

in a leisurely way,

but nobody’s to see!

my muted shout:

I protest! I protest!

but only I could hear myself

muttering these words

in the silence within us three.

except for the ringing of the phone

which is occasional

the register was also was mute

could only glace at you blankly

cipher…cipher…zero…

and the tic…tac…toc… of her heels

the rhythm of her comings and goings

seems so far away now.

too many things to offer

too many words to say

but who will come I ask?

the shop is full, no denying-

and Yes, so empty and bare.

Just empty and bare… as I am!

Al Fahd for Clothes, Buraidah, al-Qassim

March 11, 1999

How Do I Keep My Sleepy Mind Awake

On a Senseless Morn?

here I am

making senseless verses

on a one Thursday morn

just to waken

this sleepy soul.

I just couldn’t think how to cure

this drowsiness

just kept on asking

for how many days now-

was this the effect

of the med am using

to ease the simple cold?

was this the effect

of the under 8-hour sleep

which I always have?

was this the effect

of a pound-a-day

weight gaining?

I couldn’t think so much

as if mind goes numb

whenever I sit on this lone chair

and hear its little squeak

I start to yawn

I no longer hear

the sweet music of long ago…

only cars passing

people talking

unfathomable discourse….

amidst the noise

here I am,

making senseless verses

out of senseless ideas

on a sleepy Thursday morn… (yawn…!!!)

Al Fahd for Clothes, Buraidah, Qassim

March 11, 1999

Tabula Rasa

I couldn’t think anything

My brain is like

A clear sheet of paper now.

Since you’ve been gone

Since we parted ways

Since you left me…

Just emptiness…

Just nothingness…

I can’t pour out

My loss in you

With these verses.

Would these cure my solitude?

Would music fill

The void in me?

I can’t hide forever

A happy face, a smile

To be with people.

You are not my world

Anymore

And i

Must get out of your trap.

I loved you but…

You are not here

Not anymore.

I must bury the memories of old-

With a new life ahead

I have got to start.

I must bury your thoughts

Like what we did

With your body

When you died.

Buraidah, Qassim

March 15, 1999

Dalawang Tula Alay Sa Surot

Nakakayamot

Maliit lang na bagay at ‘di nakakatakot

Ano nga ba’ng mabisang gamut

Sa kating kinakamot

Sanhi ng…surot?

Na sa higaa’y lumulusot.

Makati at masarap

Mga kagat na lasap na lasap

Ano’ng luwalhating dulot

Daig pa ang gata’t pulot

Lalo na nga’t iyong hinahaplos

Mamulamula’t magiging galos

‘Di pa nasabing dahil sa sarap, magdurugo

Ang kinamot na kagat ng mga surot na berdugo.

II.

Hoy! Mga lahing surot! Tigilan niyo na!

Ang pagsipsip sa dugo’t yaman n gaming bansa!

Hindi ba kayo sa mamamayan naawa?

Sa pagpapatuloy sa kabuktutang ginagawa?

Mabuti pa sa isang tunay na surot, napipisak,

At ‘di na kailangan pa ng rally at tabak!

Hihintayin pa ban a ang baya’y maghimagsik?

Duguang laman bubulagta, takot ay maghahasasik.

Ang mga surot sa lipuna’y dapat tanggalin,

At ang imahen ng pamunua’y dapat ng linisin.

Buraidah, Qassim

May 3, 1999

Clothes Hanger

the clothes hanger

seem so tired now-

i can see the sweat

that passed through time

on its bare shoulders-

went flat now

not the same erect

and proud

the world was on its shoulders

literally.

And just like men

When all seem to go wrong

These hangers- the men,

The clothes- the cross

To bear- in a lifetime.

The difference is that

I can feel- it can’t though.

The cross comes heavier each day

But must I give up?

Take out the cross

And let my shoulders be bold and bare?

As a matter of choice….

But I must not complain.

The hanger though lifeless

Does not complain.

Why must I?

When it’s grace, pure grace.

The cross is the way, truth, life

As he bore it millennium back.

And I should now

For it is me that I bear

And He’ll help me

Bear myself

Towards eternal peace.

Buraidah, Qassim

May 24, 1999

A Lifetime With You

(poem for Joanne, on our future wedding date)

The time will never change

As we grow old

Still in love with each other.

I remember holding your hands

They never were cold

The warmth I feel is still there

Until now, until the end.

A lifetime with you

Is all that I am going to spend

A lifetime with you

Forever until the end

I have never dreamt

That our love be like this

Unexpectedly

Forever in a wedded bliss.

We’ll join our hands together

You and I, walking on the aisle

And we will never miss

The sweet melodies

That made us close.

What God hath join will never part

I promise, I will

Spend a lifetime with you,

No matter what happens

Until the end…

Buraidah, Qassim

May 16, 1999

Tula ng Pag-Ibig

Hindi mo ako iniiwanan

Ang kamay ko’y lagging tinatanganan

Sa ligaya’t saya, lungkot at lumbay,

Tayo pa rin ang magkasama.

Pinapakinggan mo’ng lahat ang aking problema,

Naririnig mo aking paghikbi, nakikita ang aking pagluha

Ngunit sa sandaling ako’y nabubuhayan na ng loob,

Ikaw nama’y aking nakakaligtaan.

Bakit ba ganu’n Sinta, bakit nga ba?

Bakit ba kaydaling magbago ang panahon?

Kahapon lamang, ika’y narito sa puso ko,

Ngayon nama’y nakalimutan ko,

Ako’y patawarin mo.

Sadyang maupok itong aking kalooban,

Umuguho sa aking kapighatian,

Pero nandiyan ka palagi na nagbibigay-lakas,

Ang aking bato, at tanggulan.

Nakilala na nga kitang lubusan,

Hindi pa naman huli ang lahat,

Minahal mo ako ng higit sa pagmamahal ko,

Inuunawa ako higit pa sa pang-unawa ko.

Mahal na mahal kita, higit pa sa buhay kong taglay,

Tanggapin mo ang pag-ibig kong alay.

Buraidah, Qassim

May 24, 1999

Ennui 7:44

I sit by the window

Looking for someone to come

Then I saw

My eyes were ablurr

Is it real?

Or just a plain hallucination?

You were gone

To nowhere and I know

That you are not coming

Anymore.

Two and a half years

Me and you and

Then like a bubble… you are gone.

You must really be in love

Not to me though

I couldn’t offer you anything

Except this whole being

And nothing more

The earth spins, days pass

My life has to go on…

Yes, I have to…

MGA KWENTONG BAHAY KUBO AT IBA PANG KAMANYAKAN

Bahay kubo, kahit munti…..

Munti man daw ang lugar na iyon, sa gitna ng reclamation area malapit sa aming iskul, munti man daw ang kubong iyon dun mo lang malalanghap ang sariwang hangin at kung ano-ano pang kaganapan sa buhay-buhay ng kung sinu-sinong tao, at ng kung anu-anong mga kwentong tila hinabi ng panahon, ng sistema, ng mga bagay-bagay na makabuluhan, at ‘yung iba, walang kabuluhan, na in the end, it does not really matter. Kaya ko nga sinusulat ito, dahil ito ay, maliban sa totoong mga kwento, mahahango ang mga aral na animo’y tila nagbabadya ng isang walang kabuluhang pagbabago. Ang buhay ng mga taong wala mang kakayanang maging sino ngayon, pero why not give them the chance na i-prove ang sarili that one day, sila ang mga titingalain, hindi man sa larangang kanilang pinili, kundi mula sa usok ng kanilang kaluluwa.

Usok? Philip Morris o kaya Marlboro lights ang usok na mamumutawi sa aming mga bibig, kasabay ng halakhakang malulutong mula sa isang kwento walang istorya. Corny man sa pandinig ng iba pero sa aming tropa, sapat na yon upang mabuhay ang gaming dugo na tila ba puputok ang aming mga litid. Sari-saring kwento kasi ang naiisip namin. Mga kwentong walang kwenta, mga kwentong kamanyakan (top-grosser kumbaga sa pelikula), mga kwentong halaw sa totoong buhay, kwentong barbero, kwentong buhay estudyante, kwentong kwela, nakakaiyak, nakakatuwa, atbpa.

There are so many characters, kumbaga sa nobela. And so many plots….

Nobela? Iyon ang project ng mga estudyante sa isang teacher na pangalanan nating Astroboy. Ewan ko ba kung bakit napili ng titser na ito ang Astroboy. Marahil, una, feeling bata pa siya (in fact 38 he is); pangalawa, kasi kalbo siya; at pangatlo, mahilig siya sa yosi (kadiri!) and the lights (or fire) which are emitted sa paa ni Astroboy ang nagbibigay ng power sa kanya (di ba power trip!). Nobela nga…. Drama pa ni Kalbo (tawag naming sa titser na ito), “I am giving you 36 days to read the novel and then summarize it in not less than 10 pages. Submit your projects after 36 days. No project, failed”. Hala, we have to rush at the nearby National Bookstore para bumili ng nobelang sale doon. Imagine, tig-20 o tig-30 pesos lang ang hardbound novel na hindi masyadong nabili hehehe… instant kupit ito sa parents. Kumikitang kabuhayan.

Si Kalbo naman ay parang tuwang tuwa sa pahirap niya sa mga estudyante. Babala pa niya: Thou shalt not copy from the internet (ang tambayan ng mga namimirata ng proyekto at instant researchers), kasi daw pupunitin niya in their face. Wahahaha… gulat ang mga pobreng estudyante. Kasi nga naman, wala na silang hilig ngayong magbasa. If they were given a chance to choose between reading and death, most probably pipiliin nila ang death. Ganun yun. Blessing in disguise nga ang nobela, at least makakapagbasa na.Every now and then ang reminders, especially nung two weeks na lang ang natitira sa 36 days nay un. Nginig, takot, hilakbot. You can see in their faces various reactions. May iba na halos maluha na kasi malapit na ang PASSko, passko sa Pebrero hehehe…. And some have not started yet reading a single page. Sabi pa ng iba, sleeping pills daw ang nobela nila. Various reactions, pero iisa rin ang patutunguhan, it will be passed on February 20, 2009.

Natuwa ang mga estudyante nung nagbigay si Kalbo ng grace period. Wow. Heaven. Pero ganun pa rin, kahit may palugit, marami pa rin ang hindi nakapagpassko. Reason: time is not enough. Natawa lang si Kalbo, pero as usual, may sermon itong kasama. Frustrated pari yata siya, as he always say that he is a former seminarian, but who cares! Terror siya. TTTTTEEEERRRROOOORRRRR!!!!! Grrrrr….. Ewan lang kung maraming nagmamahal sa kanya dahil sa ugali niyang iyon. Pero sa palagay ko, meron siyang mga taga-sunod…. Kundi 2, baka 8 sila hehehe… at least meron naman. Iyong mga kasama niya sa kainan, sa yosi, sa Antong Falls, sa lakaran, sa kung saan saan mapadpad ng 2 paa. (astig nga siya eh!!!! Siya lang yong instructor na mahilig magsout ng fitted kahit may bilbil siya, kalbo, mahilig magflash ng kanyang ngiti sa lahat ng students at higit sa lahat super pasaway kasi kahit bawal, naka-earrings siya)

Kung meron daw selection ng Three Most Popular Instructors sa university naming mahal, malamang daw na mapabilang siya sa top 5. Asaness!!

Sa kubo nabuo ang samahang SmartBro (commercial, 1.998.00 na lang! may sukli pang dalawang piso kung 2,000.00 pera mo. Pambili ng isang stick ng Philip Morris,kaunting pausok lang, at bitin!)

May at least walo ang mga SmartBros, depende sa regularity na pagpunta sa may kubo, pero walo talaga silang nagtitiis, parang Mass ‘yon na pilit pinapakinggan ang sermon ng pari sa harap ng nakakabinging ingay ng mga parokyanong di mo alam kung nakikinig din sila, o may ibang hidden agenda sa loob ng simbahan. Kakatuwa nga dahil sa isang lugar pa na banal nagaganap ang ibang kalaswaan. At iyon ang isang napakasaklap na katotohanan sa ating buhay ngayon.

Well, balik tayo sa may kubo. Nauna syempre ‘yong mga marino dun, at nakasali lang ako sa kanila kasi dati ko pa silang kasama mga tatlong taon na ang nakakaraan, wala pa ‘yong kubo noon. Masaya silang kasama kasi puro baluktot din ang kanilang pag-iisip, na kung napagtagni-tagni ay isang malaking alon din sa karagatan, kanyang nga lang, minsan tuloy napag-isip-isip ko, magiging saksesful din kaya sila sa kanilang larangan? Hindi ko ‘yon masasagot, sino ba naman ako para magpredict ng kanilang kapalaran. Hindi naman ako si Madam Auring, na bagaman at may asim pa siya, wala naman siyang scientific basis siguro at puro palpak ang hula. Nito lang January noong nagsimulang malagyan ng mga tao ang kubo. Hindi pa kasi naitayo last year ‘yon. Nu’ng meron ng nag-okopa, iyon at iyon na lang ang tambayan ng mga kaluluwang animo’y sabik sa makamundong laman at katatawanan. Opps, don’t get me wrong, makamundong laman would not always be sex, at least for me, pero ‘yong mga bagay bagay na may kinalalaman doon… halos pareho rin, pero, parang hindi eh. Ang gulo ano? But then let us continue with that point of discussion.

Doon ko nakita kung gaano sila kapursige sa kanilang pinapasukang propesyon. Nandiyan din siyempre iyong walang kawawang complaints, woes, unheard of suggestions for the improvement of the teacher and so on and so forth. Kung susumain nga eh siguro mabibingi ang Diyos sa mga ito at kanyang lalagyan ng bulak ang tenga. Pero hindi pa diyan nagtatapos ang adventure sa kubo, kung adventure ngang matatawag.

Isa sa mga nakilala ko si Tres. Medyo astig ang tikas nitong batang ito. Estudyante ko siya sa isang subject. English. Astig talaga. Imagine nasurvive niya ang subject na iyon. Bakit significant si Tres? Hindi naman siya iyong tipong autistic hehehe. Papansin siya. Nonsense nga minsan iyong sinasabi kaso kapag papansinin mo, mayroon malalim na kadahilaan kung bakit ganun ang asal nya. Siyempre hindi ko na sasabihin kung bakit. Basta okey naman siyang makisama at iyon ang importante sa samahan.

May isang foreigner din kaming kasama. Si Manny Pacquiao. Bakit naman Pacman? Simple. Taga- Gensan kasi siya. Siya iyong mahilig sa graphics. Tahimik pero sabi nila mapanganib. Palaging late sa klase, baka kasi nangagaling pa siya sa Gensan kapag pumapasok. Understood na iyon. Si Chipmunks naman ay silent type, tipong saka na lang tatawa kapag merong katawatawa. Kanang kamay ko sa isang class, taga singil ng dapat singilin. Andiyan din si Dugong. Bakit Dugong? Mukha ba siyan whale shark hehehe….hindi naman, basta iyon lang ang tawag sa kanya ng mga classmates niya. Si Kalbo ang rakista sa grupo. Palagi na lang umaabsent kasi palaging may gigs, tsk tsk.. sabi ko magdrop na lang kaya siya, pero nakiusap naman na hindi na siya aabsent, pero same pareho pa rin. Mayrun din kasama na Dimples. Wala akong masabi kundi mahilig sumayaw ito at kung ipakita ang dimples, mawawala ang galit mo sa mundo. Kapartner ni Dimples si Playboy, parehas silang mahilig sumayaw, na minsan sa class ko pinalabas ko sila kasi atat na atat na silang magpraktis sa cheerdance, at iminumuwestra nila iyong mga steps. At si Yosi Man, kasi ang pangalan niya ay tunog yosi hehehe….

Nakakasama ko din minsan sa kubo sina Black Handsome, Japanese Boy, The Presnoer, at iba pang karakter. Hindi sila regular sa kubo kaya medyo hindi ko alam iyong kanilang mga saloobin.

II. The Archangel

Nakilala ko naman siya ngayong summer lang. Sa daan-daan mga nagtuturo sa aming university, pinalad akong mabigyan ng teaching load. Wow! Hanep! At least, worthwhile ang aking bakasyon, at hindi ako maboboryong sa walang kawawaang panunuod ng tv araw at gabi, tumataas tuloy ang bill sa kuryente, at ang pagkain sa araw-araw, haay… perwisyo. Pero okey na magkaroon ako ng chance para magturo, at least enjoy ang bakasyon.

Archangel, yon ang tawag ko sa taong ito na bagamat nakikita ko siya sa bahay kantin na kinakainan ko ng mura at masarap na tanghalian nuong previous semesters, mukha naman siyang elitist, suplado at lahat ng mga ka-nega-han sa buhay. Mukhang matalino, mukhang mayaman, at siyempre may itsura. Mukha daw siyang artista, at bagay na bagay sa kanya ang kanyang kurso, mandaragat.

Estudyante ko siya sa isa sa mga subject ko ngayong summer. Literature. Mukhang boring nga eh dahil talaga naming boring ang subject na iyon, kahit saan mang anggulong tignan. Imagine magpapabasa ka sa mga estudyante mo ng mga antigong istorya ng hindi man lang nila kinagisnan, o hindi man lang nakagisnan ng kanilang mga magulang. 3^rd generation na sila, bale ba, tekkie generation na. Kaya hindi ko iniexpect na maiintindihan nila ang aking mga pinagsasabi sa harap. Pero hindi bale, sabi ko sa sarili ko, I will have to try my best to explain the details, the cultures and traditions, mga mores, mga iba’t ibang bagay tungkol sa lahi nilang magiting.

Balik tayo kay sa kanya, pansinin ang loko. Madaling mapansin. Kasi nga may tikas, animo isang artista na pumasok bigla sa klase ko. Well, okey lang sa akin iyon, at least dalawa na kaming may itsura sa loob ng klase (yabang) hehehe… Pero hindi ko alam, dahil sa presensiya niyang medyo high profile, magiging friend ko siya.

Lahat na yata ng detalye sa buhay naming ay alam naming sa isa’t isa. Hindi pala siya madamot sa kanyang mga ideya, kumbaga, parang may force na naglapit sa aming dalawa. May the force be with us. Star trek yata iyon. Naging open kami. Sa loob ng classroom ay student ko siya, sa labas ay ako ang kuya niya. Not bad. I need a small brother. Actually pareho kaming bunso kaya siguro magaan ang loob ko sa kanya, at pareho kami ng taste sa music. Mga mellow at sentimental songs. Too bad for toughies yata, pero iyon ang aming personality. Kaya wala ng kokontra.

Ang mang-iwan ay pangit.