Oeuvre of Passionate Hands

I cannot make sense out of your existence. It’s beige. I see beyond the crevice but what caused the chasm in the first place? What is this glacier surrounding me really made of? Besides, why must this fissure be so glorious when that which lies beyond is as vast as a newel?

No. You don’t get to ask. You can only try to answer. 

I am convinced that the worst enemy anyone could ever have is their best friend. The last time I checked, there is only one person that I can consider as my best friend. The trouble is, she was never a friend to begin with. She was a secret lover, a stranger, a cheer leader (she danced while I rock).

A perfect illustration of poles are we. She expresses her feelings while mine, reserved. She wears pink, I wear blue. Or she’d wear black if I wore white. She rules the halls of the elite kind, while I live out the reputation of those that lurk in the dark, narrow streets. She’s a Catholic, I’m a Protestant. She skips Sunday mass, I’m a church pianist.

I tried to command her existence in my life, tried to make her cross the tight-rope of my will but as perfect as she is, she did not fit the categories I have set. She always had trouble finding her way towards my elusive spirit until she stopped predicting my actions, my emotions, my decisions. She failed to tie me to her shoes. We both gave up. She stayed an inch farther from my arms’ reach while I strapped myself at the back of her head.

Then I saw how incredibly wonderful she is in her world as she marveled at how I governed mine. I admire her greatly. We both have learned our place in each others life and it is not within each ones world. Dissolving the enclosure of our comfortable domain, we lovingly complimented each other as opposites.

At a time we discussed about what will happen if we parted. That was a bit difficult to imagine because we can’t tell who will leave and who’ll be left behind. Nonetheless, it’s a scary thought for both of us because we both keep our promises and (thanks to the misery delivered by her ex and mine) we have sworn to make a living hell out of anyone who would dare hurt us in any way.

We may not be the best of friends, or atleast we did not begin our life together in this manner, but we have learned too much about each other to risk becoming each one’s ex. We both know enough to threaten our lives with a daily supply of irritation and torment.

As my complimenting opposite I respect her capacity to anger as I fear mine. She is my best friend and my perfect adversary. I love her and her unfamiliar world will always bewilder me as our lives entangle in a daily pleasant surprise.

Pardon me for using Tagalog for this post. It is something that I wrote a few years back and I just wanted to put it up on my blog. I’m currently working on the english translation so do be patient please, it will be posted ASAP. Its about the emotional drive of mens attraction towards women that would end up in a rather peculiar conclusion.

For those who can read tagalog I would like to hear from you. Do let me know your thoughts on this one. 

 

Lalaki ako.

Matipuno at kaakit-akit.

Nasasaktan pero hindi umiiyak.

Nakikipag-away pag tinititigan.

Nabugbog na pero bida pa rin sa kuwentuhan.

Malakas uminom pero hindi nalalasing.

Naglalaway sa suso.

Tinitigasan sa kurbada ng bewang.

 

Ikaw! Babae ka.

Tumititig sa mga lalaki.

Nagpapantasya habang tulala sa aking mga labi.

Di mo alam napapansin ko.

Inilulugay mo ang buhok mo

at sinasadyang ihampas sa mukha ko pagdaaan ko.

 

Lalaki ako.

Nabubugnot sa tagal ng paliligo mo.

Naguguluhan sa dami ng ipinipintura mo sa mukha mo

At nalilito ako sa dami ng pinamimilian mong damit na di mo rin naman

isinusuot.

 

Babae ka.

Importante sa’yo na malinis at mabango ka.

Nagme-make up ka para mapansin ng mga lalaking tulad ko ang mga

pangbabago sa

mukha mo.

Pinapahaba mo ang buhok mo para mas madaling ayusin,

Kahit nagkaka-hadhad ka na sa batok at nauupuan mo na ang mahaba mong

buhok.

Nag aahit ka ng kilay para magmistulang manipis ito para maitago ang

katotohanang mas mabalahibo ka pa kaysa sakin.

 

Lalake ako.

Kaya kong patigasin lahat ng muscle sa katawan ko.

Matapang ako.

Matapang ang mukha ko.

Hindi mo ako pwedeng tawaging bakla.

Magagalit ako.

Pero kung babae ka magagalit pa rin ako.

At sisiguraduhin kong mararamdaman mo ang lalim ng galit ko.

 

Babae ka.

Umuungol ka pag nasasaktan.

Umuungol ka pag nasasarapan.

Umuungol ka pag nag-iinarte ka.

At umuungol ka pag nagbabata-bataan ka.

 

Oo. Babae ka.

Nagpapantasya,

naglulugay,

matagal maligo,

matagal magbihis,

nagpipintura ng mukha,

nag-aahit ng kilay,

umuungol sa maraming dahilan,

pero naintindihan kita.

 

Lalake ako - noon, nagpapapansin at pinapansin mo.

Babae ka - noon, sinusundan-sundan pa kita ng hindi mo alam.

Lalake ako - noon, pinag-aawayan natin ang mga abubot mo sa katawan

pero…

 

Babae na ako - ngayon,

nagpapantasya,

nag-aayos ng buhok,

matagal maligo,

matagal magbihis,

nagpipintura ng mukha,

nag-aahit ng kilay,

umuungol sa maraming dahilan pero malimit sa sakit.

 

Sa sakit ng dulot ng mga lalaki.

Sa mga lalaking katulad ko… noon.

 

So I passed by the moonlight

With your shadow at my feet

Your scent is against the air I breathe

The hair on my face

Gently pierce my eyes

Then my tears turn into dreams

And mornings by your side 

You’re about to cross the street

Your best friend is waving at you from the other side

Oblivious to everything around you, you are more curious of the ice cream your friend is holding

With half a foot size of a hand someone suddenly grabbed your arm

Large, coarse hands

Rough from healing scars

Quickly you are pulled back and your ears bleed from the screeming of horns and tires

You are cursed at by a truck driver

You are only seven and a half

You forget the ice cream

You forget your best friend

You just cling to the gentle rough hands that silently consume your tears

That night, there was an unusually loud slamming of the safety room in the basement. I was already used to the sound of gently opening doors and sudden closing of doors in various places of the house. I was the brave one in the family, but the crashing at the basement suddenly sent my heart pounding. I was alone you see. I took a couple of deep breaths then went straight to the basement carrying only a flashlight and a penknife. As expected no one was there, no cat, no gigantic rats, no human beings, at least in the flesh I thought. There was another banging sound only it is a little softer this time and I was staring at the door but it was not opened in any way that it could make any sound. I stared at it for a while then I knelt to open the hidden door and tried to see what was unusual inside the room. I could not see much so I went down inside the room and turned on the small bulb connected to a car battery. The room had piles of blankets in one corner, tons of food that were expiring in a couple of years, some neatly folded clothes and very thick socks, and tons of medicine inside a small chest. It was the first time I got inside that secret room. My grandfather had It built as a safety room from the second world war. I was aware of it since I was small but I had no idea that since it was built, my family had been keeping it well in order. It was clean, well ventilated with an exhaust fan that had its own channel leading to the roof, good food, and clean clothes. While I was going through the clothes in one of the boxes, trying to recall who owned them, I was startled with the sound of a glass breaking in the living room followed by a man’s voice. “You idiot! You want the neighbors to catch us?” Another man answered him, “Let’s just take what we can and leave! We don’t have much time, they could be back soon.” I was listening through the hole in the double-wall. All around the walls of the house were holes that were used as an intercom by the old bakers in our house. My grandfather had a bakery in that basement and they used to shout through the holes when the bread was cooked.

Another male voice spoke up, “I want to kill the kid, you know, just to shatter them lives. Imma slice her neck open. Hah! That would tear them apart surely!”

          I was shocked. I was the youngest in the family. Then I noticed that our dog had stopped barking. I wanted to call someone but my mobile phone had no signal in the basement and all the phones were up stairs. I began to worry for my family. I was not sure what time they would get back home. Then I was startled with a sudden gunfire. I turned out the light and opened the “intercom” door a little bit more so I could hear from upstairs. “Idiot! You really want them to trace us? No, we’re not going to eat that dog, stupid! Leave it here or I’ll be shooting you in the head.” I closed the door. I was more terrified than I thought I would ever be in my entire life. I stayed there long, motionless. Praying that my family would get a flat tire or go somewhere that would take them long before they could get back home. I probably stayed there for another hour, just wishing, hoping the bad guys were gone. Then I heard the front gate open, but I didn’t hear any vehicle sound. I heard the front door swinging openand expected a scream or any voice that would complain about the broken glass. Nothing. Then I heard the sound of the basement’s secret room being opened. I looked up, It was still shut.

          That time I knew it was the friendly ghost of our house letting me out so I went outside, but I was still cautious with everything around me. The house was clean, no broken glass, no blood anywhere, and no dog either. Apparently, they took the dog. They thought they had cleaned up everything but they still left an evidence. My grandfather loved hats but this particular hat I remembered he gave this man who worked for our family in the farm. My grandfather was so happy for the gifts that man brought from the farm, he gave this brown colored, round, “Charlie Chaplin” kind of hat. I remembered because I particularly liked that hat. That moment my family came home. I told them everything  and in a little while the police were everywhere. Of course we didn’t say anything about the secret room, we wanted to make sure that it remained a safe place for the family. While we all were discussing things with the head of police, all the doors from upstairs started slamming one after another. The police was sure that everyone had gone down and no one was left upstairs, but still he checked and found no one. I was trying hard to figure out what it was our friend was trying to tell us. Then we heard the sound of the front gate being opened and then a knock on the front door and then the door being opened then closed again. But the gate was closed and the front door was wide open. While everyone stood still trying to figure out what had just happened I pushed the door until it was only ajar then we heard the gate being opened once again, this time we all saw a man come through. We waited for him until he got to the front door. He wiped his shoes then knocked, opened the door and went inside. He had a worried look on his face then spoke to my uncle, “I saw the police cars in front so I came to check if you’re alright. Did some idiot break into the house?” It alarmed me. I recognize the voice, and I was sure he was the man my grandfather gave the hat to.

 

It appears that this story does not have an ending just yet. Or perhaps it already has a perfect ending, I’m not sure. In any case, I would like to know what you think of it. Cheers!

“I’ll take care of you.” If there are statements that I would never forget, it would be this one. Ever since I was a child growing up with my grand parents, I have always seen and heard that statement. When I see those writings on the dusted table or mirror, I’d write my name after the last word and let my imagination take off convincing myself that the note was for me. I used to think that Bob, my grandfather, was the one that kept sending those neat notes to Tina, his wife. Sometimes I would be surprised to find it in the last sheet of the toilet paper roll. Of course, I would not use it. I would wait for grandma to find it. Surely, the next day there would be a fresh new roll in the toilet. One day I asked grandma why she kept ignoring Bob’s sweet thoughts. She asked me what sort of sweetness I was referring to, and I mentioned the “I’ll take care of you” statements I have been seeing all over the house. I saw the shock on Tina’s face but she calmly answered and told me it was Danny, her father. Now I was the one was stunned. Tina’s father would be my great grand father and Tina was kinda old. I couldn’t imagine how old my great grandfather would look like based on Tina’s age and looks, although she didn’t look that old and ugly. I honestly think she beautiful despite her age and anyone can see that if they looked closer and deeper through her wrinkles and some freckles on her face. Tina said that Danny has been talking to her in this manner after a year since he died. And when she was in high school she thought she had a secret admirer who always sent her flowers from an unidentified flower shop on the first day of each examination week. She found short notes with the statement “I’ll take care of you” everywhere, in the toilet paper roll, inside her favorite notebook, inside her shoes, everywhere. Tina gave up her hopes on that admirer when she graduated and entered college. I interrupted her and asked if she ever got scared, or if she’s scared now seeing those notes around the house, she looked at me and gave a little laugh. Tina said she hasn’t seen a single note since she married Bob. Tina didn’t ask how I got to mention that “I’ll take care of you” thing so I didn’t bother to tell her. But it still got me thinking and it meant that I was the only one seeing all those notes and traces and stuff of “I’ll take care of you” and no one else knew about it. Unless of course my grandma gave it thought, that I doubt she did. She went on with her story. On her first day of school in college, while she was still at the dormitory, she found Danny standing by the door of her room and he spoke to her. “Just finish college my princess, I’ll take care of you.” It was the first time she saw him again since he died and she instantly knew who kept sending her flowers in high school. But that wasn’t the last of their meeting. Tina said she often saw Danny around campus; he would give out a little smile and then would disappear in the crowd. Sometimes she would see him at the auditorium entrance collecting tickets from the viewers. She would deliberately shift her line just to see and perhaps talk to Danny again but he would disappear and be a different man when she would be the one passing out her ticket to the doorkeeper. She often thought of how handsome Danny was and said to herself she’d marry a guy as sweet and as good looking as her father. All her college life it went on and on, sometimes she’d find these five words in the bathroom mirror which appeared in the mist after she had taken a bath, which doesn’t appear when someone else took a bath before or after her. She would sometimes see notes in the middle of a book she borrowed from the library. Sometimes only the acronym is written down, but just the same she knew who sent it to her. Creepy, but she never complained of it, she said. She never got scared, and Tina said she actually found it sweet and thoughtful that even after death, her father was there to cheer her up, support and make her feel important and truly loved. She had a couple of semesters left of college when she got pregnant. That’s where Bob comes into the picture. They got married right away but Tina wasn’t able to finish college. She said that since grandpa came to her life, the ITCOY’s stopped. No more flowers, no more notes, no more surprises came to her. She said she felt bad because that made her think that no matter how she loved Bob, it never compared to the feeling of elation she felt with those simple notes she received from her dad. It also made her think that she must have married the wrong man, but nonetheless, she continued her marriage with Bob. Tina bore five sons who gave her three grandsons and me. My dad was his second born son and I am the first and only grand daughter she has yet. Tina went to the old cabinet and took out a very small blanket that she said belonged to me. She said I was wrapped in it when I was brought home from the hospital. She said she thought it was a gift from her father, perhaps after all those years he’s back to make her feel again the love she had missed. However, she found out that it was a gift to me, and that Danny, her father, was taking care of me now and that she realized it just now when I had asked about those five words. At the bottom of the blanket was printed ITCOY 100% Cotton. We both knew what it meant and although she searched if the company had existed, she found nothing leading to the initials. Years passed since that enlightening conversation I had with Tina. I finished high school and experienced everything she had described. I received flowers and anonymous notes with the five words. Then I was in college. I met this man who was the sweetest thing I have ever known. Unbelievably, he did everything my grandfather did, flowers, surprises, and notes stating he will take care of me. His name is Vincent Daniel and although his friends and family call him Vince, Vinny or Vincent, I chose to call him Danny – after my great grandfather. Sadly, my grandma died in my last year in college. I never got to introduce my boyfriend, Danny, to her and we were actually going steady for a long time now. My boyfriend went to the wake, came up to the coffin and looked at grandma lying in her coffin, for a very, very long time. When he finally sat beside me he uttered, “Your grandma has always been the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.” I found that a little funny because he just met her, in her wake. Then he said “when she was born I swore that I would make for her the most wonderful, unforgettably beautiful life she has ever had and for as long as she lived I would take care of her.” That was when I realized that this handsome man beside me was my great grandfather. Reincarnated perhaps, or just a part of him was my great grandfather, his soul, his heart, his voice. But for whatever percentage he was who he was, I was not afraid of him and I loved him. “I died when someone else took care of Tina. But when I saw you, I lived again and I never have lived a real life until the day I found you.” And with these, his words, he proposed to me and after a year, we were married. Danny is the best thing that ever happened to me. He protected me as a father would but he loved me as no other husband could ever make me feel loved. I bore a daughter. I named her Trina. Slightly a little different from my grandma’s name and mine but sounds beautifully the same. Again, I heard Danny utter the same words that I believed he said to grandma on the day she was born, that he would take care of her for as long as she lived. I never got jealous because I knew that my daughter, my grand daughter, and her daughter would always be safe, loved, and taken care of by this ghost that has loved my family all his life and his after-life.

In closing my eyes I slowly set you free

Though the consequences hold me up and tear me

We’re two worlds apart

and it’s breaking my heart

Knowing it can never be you and me.

Now there are only cold, endless nights and days

Trying to forget the feel of your sweet embrace

Never thought I’d be this sad

Never thought I’d feel this bad

I’m being torn apart by what I’m about to face.

I used to dream of a love so vast

Make believing such beauty would last

Now everything is gone

But still I must move on

Keeping all the memories as just one miserable past.

Again, I close my eyes with this one woe

Fighting to forget the love I used to nkow

Now I pause to wipe a tear

Trying hard to face a great fear

The thought, the fact that now I must let you go.