Disturbed Slumber

For the likes of me who toil the midnight oil, literally, rest (a.k.a. sleep) is sacred. Call it blasphemy all you want but I care a rat’s ass about it. These days, I would stay in my bed until my back blisters and my behind feels really sore. And honestly? I feel fine. I only have few regrets in becoming a self proclaimed weekend bum; I miss writing. Yet most of the time I still feel that I am blameless. If you stare at a 24 inch LCD monitor, 8 hours a day , 5 days a week for a job, you wouldn’t want to see a screen glow for the next two days. But, Today is an exemption.

 

I started my Sunday (my Sunday clock starts at 9:00 am) with the usual trip to nanay Carmen’s turo-turo. A nilagang baka breakfast (Nanay Carmen’s especialty) every Sunday has become part of my routine. upon entering the carinderia, I waved at Nanay Carmen and give her the cutest school boy smile I could muster. She waved back at me but I noticed that the smile is not like what it used to be. Nanay Carmen is at her early 60’s. But despite the age, she still keeps a lively disposition in life. She loves to joke around, and calls me anak (like she does with almost everyone she likes).

 

It’s almost 3 years now that I frequent Nanay’s turo-turo. during those days when I was thinking that Manila is to congested for me and it’s nights are to gloomy, Nanay is one of those few people who showed me otherwise. Part of the few people is Tuying, a 7 years old son of a drunkard. I met Tuying one rainy September afternoon of 2005. It was must be a Sunday then because I’m at nanay’s place. I was at the middle of my steamy nilaga when a boy approached my as he did with everyone else in the place. he stood in front of my table and said “Kuya penge ng pera,” the tone is courteous. It must be a day after payday then that I felt generous. Most of the time, I would just say “wala akong pera, sorry”. That time I reached inside my pocket and gave him a five peso coin. After the boy left Nanay approached and sat at the available chair beside me. She told me the boy’s story. I learned that the boy is using the money for “baon” in school, that nanay let him eat the turo-turo everyday, That the boy’s mother is gone and his good for nothing father, as nanay would call him, is going. I don’t know but I feel impressed with the kid. With a life like that, ordinary kids should have given up schooling a long time, but not Tuying. He would go to school even if it means he have to beg his way to it. That was the beginning. I usually join the boy on his table when I come to the place and find him eating there as well (if he is not out begging for some money anywhere else). He talks a lot, but he also takes time to listen. A good sign of intelligence. He loves to joke around. He told me a lot of corny joke that you could only expect from a kid. The jokes eased the loneliness in me somehow. He is street smart, with the kind of life he has, he needed to be.

 

Today, In the middle of consuming my steamy nilaga, as I’ve done a hundred times before, I can’t help but to glanced at every table. Nanay approached my table and sat beside me, like she did a hundred times. She put her gentle hand over my arms and said “kailangan mo na ulit masanay kumain mag-isa tuwing linggo”, I looked at her face puzzled, she have this pained look painted on her usually smiling eyes. She told me that Tuying passed away last thursday, I was in shock. Other datails about Tuying’s passing escaped my understanding. I did not ask any question. All I understood is that he came to Nanay’s place after school with a fever. That Nanay took him to the hospital, That Nanay was there with him during those critical times and his turo-turo was closed. That some of the medicine that Tuying needed is so expensive and the Government hospital doesn’t have it available. It happened so fast, Tuying left this world a little after 4:00 AM last Thursday.

 

The nilagang baka all of the sudden tastes so bland. but what left bad taste to the mouth is that fact that a hundred of Tuyings are lying in government hospitals right now. With no medicines for them in the hospital pharmacy and with no money to buy it with outside. They will go back to search for answer in the only place in the hospital where service is for free, the chapel. Yet even that place won’t provide answers, it provides only hope. And hope is not something you could always hold on to. In Tuying’s case, Nanay could only do so much.

It is depressing to think that while our senate continuously talk about corruption in public television, we still can’t do anything about it. Hundreds of Tuyings are dying everyday because the money that should go to the coffers of the hospitals to buy equipment and medicines went to the pockets of officials who is worthy of public execution. We all know that a crime of corruption has been committed but what other things have we done so far aside from senate inquiry in aid of legislation? None! Our call for change has fallen on deaf ears. Senator’s who have expressed their willingness to run for the Presidency on 2010 is cautious in a making a stand on this issue. Is it to early to Sirs? What hope does the weak and underprivileged of this country have when the good people they believe in has lost their courage to fight for the right cause.

 

What do we have left? what do we have left but ourselves. Let this be an appeal, a call to arms. A call to arm ourselves with enough tenacity to keep fighting for justice when it seem lost. A call to arm ourselves with enough vigilance to keep us grounded from what is right and wrong. A call to arm ourselves with enough prayer to keep us guided. and a call to arm ourselves with enough hope that our heart will stand his ground. A time might come when our patriotism will waiver and our courage will fail, but it it will not be in this time. Not in our generation. A call to arm ourselves with enough fortitude to respond just in case history summon us to come together again.

 

Wake up from this deep slumber, I will…

Stand!

 

It was 4:00 PM. Everyone in PBCom building was in a hurry to go home. Our training class was dismissed earlier than usual. The inter-faith rally has begun. The management is worried of hooliganism, the rest of us was just worried about walking the distance from PBCom tower to the MRT station in Ayala.

I packed my things, picked my back pack ang head towards the exit. speeches ang yells from the nearby Paseo de Roxas greeted me as I stepped out. Headed towards the underpass and was determined to start the long walk.

As we pass through Paseo, Enoch, a co-worker asked me if we could stay for a while and listen to what the politicians are saying. I was really not in the mood for hanging around that day. At the same time, I am not interested in listening to politicians saying what has been said before. The same banana, different day. You just get tired of it. At the same time, it actually feels like watching a comedy seeing Erap egging a President to step down (Whether that president was actually elected by the majority or won the presidency by fraud).  I Said no, but Enoch is persistent. Eventually, I agreed. As we move forward to get a better look at the crowd, I was amazed. It’s a sea of humanity. 

It has been a while since I last attended a protest rally. That was way back college years when I was still an active member of the College Editors Guild of the Philippines (CEGP) Cagayan Valley. Along the way things happen, somehow, you get disillusioned or simply got tired of things. That was the time when you turn your back and moved on.

I was beginning to feel dizzy, I was about to tell Enoch that I have to go, but he’s busy talking with someone. Eavesdropping to their conversation. I overheard that some protesters were unable to join the rally due to different reasons. Some were stopped at Laguna by LTO because of the Jeepneys permit to enter the metro and other groups were stopped because of phoney reasons.

I was thinking, If only the president allows the people accused of involvement in this multi-billion peso scam to come out in the open and try to clear their names, then there is no need for protests like this. Why is the Government so afraid of people coming together? Was it because there no longer any doubt in the mind of the populace that there are truths with Lozada’s testimony. Is the goverment (especially malacañang) beginning to fear its own shadow?

Right then and there, I feel like a college student again. Maybe, if the mind begins to forget, the heart never ceases to remember. Is my respect for my government taking a back seat if I ask myself how much I  love my country? The answer is without a doubt, YES!

During times like this, being neutral is a mortal sin. One needed to know if they are black or white. There is no middle ground for truth.

Enoch looked at me and said ” Tara na, malayo pa lalakarin natin” I looked at him and said, “una ka na bro, Maiiwan muna ako dito”.

God by another name

Imagine getting jailed for blogging.

Fouad Ahmed al-Farhan is a blogger that is currently in jail in Saudi Arabia. His crime? he criticized religious extremism. Nice! Say something against this religious zealots and you loose your freedom.  You get a jail time for disagreeing with the politics of the ruling party. Well, for a place like Saudi Arabia, this incident will not be the first time. people get jail time for a lesser reason than blogging about religious extremism and about people close to the saudi Royal family for supporting it. With that said. let me just say; Saudi Arabia is no different to other countries that tolerates religious extremism, they never left the dark ages when it comes to matters of governance. In these countries, human rights is screwed in all sides.

Sometimes I wonder; Is religion a breeding pool for hate? people kill people because of Religion. How many times have we heard the word Jihad or Holy War in our lifetime? Too many that I loose count. It makes me want to puke everytime I hear these words. Using the name of God for terror is a disgusting.

I am a catholic by virtue of my birth and baptism. I was made to believe that Jesus Christ is God before I heard the name of Allah.  I was trained to go to church every sunday. I learned the 10 commandments in school way before I heard the name of Islam as religion. I was in the 5th grade when I learned about the prophet Muhammad in our social studies. But is it my fault that i was born in a catholic community? That i never heard other religion until I was old enough to understand? No. Never.

 Right now, somewhere on the other side of the world. A child named Abdullah is learning the Pillars of Islam. He is listening to someone teaching him the words of the prophet Muhammad. He will listen with all his heart and mind. He never heard of Jesus or Christianity yet but it doesnt matter. It will not make him a lesser man. Its not his fault. We christians doesn’t have the right to criticize his religious upbringing. the same way that our Muslim brothers never had the right to criticize us with ours.

A lot of Muslims, like Fouad knew how to respect religion. They understand that bloods needs not to be spilled to show faith. They openly criticize religios zealots and those that supports it to show that they are willing to cleanse that smudge on their religion that these zealots have shamelessly distorted. I salute them.

Its time to stop this savagery. Religion should not be used to breed such hatred. Enough blood has been spilled because God was called by another name. Enough! 

Free Fouad!

Equals

Ang sarap bumiyahe sa EDSA nung Christmas, Walang traffic, walang kotongerong pulis na nagtatago sa gilig-gilid, madilim kaya hindi kita yung kulay pink na overpass. Ayos. 

Pagkatapos ng party office napagtripan naming ng ibang kaopisina ang maglakad. Wala masayadong tao sa lansangan. Kumpyansa din kami na pati mga holdaper ay nakapagfile ng leave of absence sa date na yun.  Kung ako ang papipiliin, mas gusto kong umuwi at magpasko na lang sa bahay kasama ang pamilya. Sa kasamaang palad, dineclare na critical working day ang December 24 ng gabi sa office. Kaya tangena,by crook or by crook ay pumasok kami sa trabaho. Pasalamat na lang ako na by 11:15 pinayagan na kaming umuwi.  

Yung mga pagkain na inorder sa Max’s, and daming natira. Suspetsa ko pampalubag loob lang yun o di naman kaya ay part ng isang evil experiment ang lahat. Siguro naiisip nila “yaman din lang na papapasukin natin sila sa pasko, subukan kaya nating impatsohin ang mga yan, tingnan natin kung ano ang magyayari”. Sa awa ng diyos, wala namang namatay sa kabusugan. 

Umuwi kaming may kanya kanyang bitbit ng plastic ng pagkaiin. Naisip ko; Ayos! May almusal ako bukas. Pagdaan naming sa may flyover sa Ortigas, nilapitan kami sa isang bata sabay extend sa kamay, humihingi ng limos. Binigyan ko siya ng sampung pisong barya, pagkakuha ng pera tumakbong palayo yung bata, palapit sa ibang taong hihingan ng limos.

Nakakalungkot na may mga ganito pa rin sa pasko, Naisip ko maswerte talaga ako, kasi kahit hindi ako ganoong kayaman, At least nabibili ko yung basic na pangangailangan ko.  May pabaong cash gifts ang kumpanya, meron din namang gift cards at iba pang perks and freebies. Pagdaan daan namin sa may kariton, tinanong kami nung ale kung anong oras na, sumagot si Paul, “Alas dose pasado na po”. Ngumiti siya sa amin sabay sabi ng “Merry Chistmas” , tapos ay bigla niyang tinawag yung batang kanina lang ay binigyan ko ng sampung piso. Hindi naming maiwasan na sundan ng tingin yung ale. Paglapit nung bata, Bigla niya itong niyakap at hinalikan sa pisgi. Hindi naming marinig yung usapan nila pero nakita namain na pareho silang nakangiti na parang nagbibiruan. Hiningi ko yung supot ng pagkain ni Paul sabay lapit sa mag-ina at inabot yung mga supot. Nagpasalamat naman sila.  

Habang papalayo ako sa mag-ina, naisip ko “Gaano ba ako kasuwerte o malas ba talaga sila?” Ako kumpleto nga ngayong pasko, regalo, bagong damit, pagkain pero malayo sa pamilya. Sila, walang ngang pera, hindi nakakain ng maayos pero may yakap at halik sa pisngi, isang bagay na hindi kelan man maipagpapalit sa anuman. Sinong maswerte sa gabing ito?

Napa-iling ako bigla. I finally understood why Christmas is usually defined with the word love. I am not a very religious person but I felt I understood the concept of equality that night. As we pass throught the EDSA shrine, I made a quick sign of the cross. Call it divine intervention, call it whatever you wish to call it, I made a quick prayer and said “tonight, the night of his birth, of all nights, we found ourselves equals. Thank you for the explanation”

May Tama Ka!

I hit the bed around 11:30 PM. Medyo inaanticipate ko na na magiging maganda ang araw bukas. Kailangan ko nang magpahinga. Siguro umabot din ng 15 minutes bago ako nakatulog. Ayos na sana ang lahat nang bigla kong maulinigan na tumunog ang aking cellphone. Dahil nga sa inaantok na ako, hindi ko na lang pinansin. Medyo papikit na ulit ang mata ko nang tumunog nanaman. this time, tatlong sunod sunod na text. Sinundan ng miss call. Biglang napamulat ako, tumitig sa kisame, Anong emergency kaya ang nangyayari at sa ganitong disoras ng gabi ay nakuha pang magpatunog ng cp ang hinayupak.  Takbo ako sa cp, binuksan ko ang message; Tol’ emergency!  tumatanda ka na. bwahahaha. happy birthday!!! painom ka. Napangiti ako. parang hudyat naman yung aking perfect smile para magsipasukan ang message sa cp ko. May galing sa kapamilya. mga kaibigan, kamag-anak, past girlfriends mga tambay sa kanto at yung baranggay tanod sa kabilang ibayo.

Naisip ko, oo nga bertday ko na nga pala… Ano bang maganda ang nagawa ko sa nakaraang buong taon ng buhay ko? May mga nagawa akong mabuti at tama para sa kapwa ko this past year? Naglilinis na ako ng kuwarto ngayon, naghahanap buhay na ako ng marangal (Ayoko na ulit bumalik sa buhay ng pagiging kubrador ng hueteng, nyahahaha… joke). pero hindi ibig sabihin noon na okay na ako. Kahapon iniisip ko kung anong dapat kong gawin para maging makabuluhan ang araw na to. Hindi ko naisip na maaga itong mag-uumpisa.  Maya-maya ay nakarinig ako ng katok sa baba. dali-dali akong bumaba. pagkabukas ko ng pinto. nagulat ako sa aking nakita. Mga kaibigan ko, ang unang tanong nila, “may yelo ka ba diyan? mainit na tong san mig light, yung letson manok, malamig na, alas diyes pa kami nakatambay sa kanto, bakit ba ang bagal dumating ng alas dose pag-ikaw ang nagbebertdey?” natawa ako. Naisip ko, “siguro nga may nagawa din akong tama sa buong taon, kasi kahit papaano, may mga nakakaalala at nagmamahal pa din sa akin”  😆

Transcendence!

My entire body is still sore from the long travel home. My left elbow, The one I dislocated some couple of years ago is aching due to the weather of Cagayan and partially due to some stupid reason when I fell off my seat inside the bus.  Its a trip I’d rather forget in a day worth remembering. It is the day when Badoodles and His Bebe would exchange wedding vows.

I arrived at the Tuguegarao Cathedral at around 6:00 in the evening. The entire ceremony is about to kick off. The sponsors are ready for the entrance. I saw Badoodles standing infront of the pack. His face broke into a smile as he saw me approaching. But make no mistake, he is nervous. but come to think of it, who wouldn’t be nervous in their wedding day?. After a few laughs and some male-hormone-induced-verbal-fencing, I left him alone so he could do his thing.

I was standing alone at the back when I noticed that I wasn’t really dressed for the occasion. It is a formal attire accassion and guess what I was wearing. A rock shirt, jeans and a chuck taylor. Stupid me. 

The ceremony is about to begin when the videographer asked me if I could help in opening the Cathedrals massive door. I asked what for? the door is already open. He said it’s for the effects later. The door would open and Jude will walk slowly towards the altar. I said “Ok. I’ll do it”. They closed the door when the wedding march began. Me and the guy in a polo shirt stood behind the doors. I peep through the gap to see if other people are still outside, Instead I saw the bride standing on the other side, too close to the door. She appears calm but she’s breathing deeply. I whispered through the gap.

Ice: Relax, everything will be fine.

Jude: Who’s that?

Ice: Just relax, its your day. You’re beautiful.

Jude: Ron? is that you. hahaha Ikaw nga, good you can make it.( she recognized my voice)

Ice: Didn’t I tell you I won’t miss this for the world?

Jude: Dapat lang! Dapat lang!

It’s then when the videographer gave the signal to open the door. Then their Magic moments began. It was a walk that could have taken eternity to walk. I was there when it all began. Jude was a friend and classmate during my Paulinian days in Tuguegarao. Badoodles on the other hand is a friend since my Louisian days (school hopping was my hobby then), He was my first editor-in-chief in the Louisian Courier. We’ve been in countless absences together. Series of bull session, spent hour in panciterias, we debated against each other during provincial debate series, shared secrets, went to conventions together, we entered the lair of the Cordillera Peoples Liberation Army together (along with Waki, ehem, Waki) for an interview and also because no school paper has done it before, we even worked in the same company after college days. if someone would ask me to describe badoodles during those days, I would definetely tell them “Ink runs in his veins”. He maybe, just maybe the best Student Editor that ever held the the top post of the Courier, Even better than me (considering that I thought myself to be the best editor already, nyahahaha).

Their wedding also became a sort of reunion for old school paper friends, Liza was there, so is Lance and Sofi and Jose. Javi and Maeng was also in attendance. The old naughtiness just began working its magic again as if no time was lost. It was fun. It’s always good to have old friends around.  As the couple exchanges vows, I just can’t help but utter a silent prayer for them. These are good people who have some flaws like the rest of us, but still good people. They deserve to be happy. I whispered “Please make it work for them. With all my heart I want them to be happy. These two individuals are my friends”. I am happy for them.

And when I told them that I won’t miss their wedding for the world. I meant it.

 

(The photos are blurry but it served my purpose. Its not for me to show everything. If the couples wishes to show it to the world. It’s their option, afterall, It’s their moments)

Of Chills and Soul

I woke up around 4:00 AM. My XM Radio Online was playing Christmas carols. But something is missing. I am wearing shorts and an old sando, and it doesn’t feel right.  It feels like I am missing a part of my very soul.

I grew up north,  In Tuao,  Cagayan Valley. Probably around 99.98% of the Filipinos haven’t heard the place. It’s a small laid back  town  near Tuguegarao City. Home to more than 26,000 people.  If you happen to visit the Basilica Minore of the Lady of Piat, you will notice that the Basilica is overlooking sleepy old town that stand humbly between the mighty Cagayan River and the majestic mountains of the Kalingas and the Apayaos. That place is Tuao. Home of my childhood. Whose sun kissed soil was forever witness to centuries of perfect sunsets and of countless mist embraced dawns.

December is the time of the year when I usually drown myself to 3 layers of blankets and piles of pillows. When even the crickets would not sing their song because of the cold. When I feel happy lying in the dark listening to Christmas carols buried beneath the blankets.

Manila is whole different world for me. Though I’ve been here for a couple of years now. Manila is beautiful as it is stressful.  I miss the morning fog of Cagayan. It’s chilly wind at dusk and the care free smiles of its people.

Every night, as the bus, taking me to work, was passing through Quezon Memorial Circle, where the trees stand proudly amidst the chaos that was Elliptical Road.  I open the window and closed my eyes. I allowed the cool air to caress my face. I let the sensation take me to another place. Back to Cagayan, where the December chill could freeze ones soul into a state of childhood forever.

 Ahh… How I yearn to be home.

College Poems

Reading old inks

weathered papers touching my palm

old words written

fashioned during empty nights

old college poems

by old students all gone on

old rhymes I’ve read before

old rhymes I’m reading again

old memories flooding back

new smiles forming in

old names remembered

old places revisited in the mind

sometimes you’ll just wonder

though good new poems

printed on brand new pages

sound good and refreshing

it is those moments

embodied in those old college poems

I always come back to

The Fool Speaks!

(Warning: This is a futile attempt to understand the great mystery of the universe. if you wish not to subject yourself to the blabbering of a hopeless fool. It’s time to move to the next entry.) 

I am a fool and I am writing. Let me write about something that has been discussed countless of times. Let me write about fate, A word I would never understand. Who else, but a fool like me would write about things he never understood. So I pray for your forgiveness for writing it and for writing it again. And I beg thee to give me a few ticks of your precious time. I’m writing about things you’ve read before. so listen now, I know how precious your time is.

I won’t pretend to understand what fate is all about.  I won’t even bother to consult the dictionary to look for its definition, knowing that it will only give me the meaning in words and not in essence. The true meaning of words will vary depending on the person using this word.  It vary, not because, we’re reading different books, many of us never had the opportunity to read one, but because we understood the same thoughts in different ways.  It vary not because we sleep on different beds, some of us doesn’t have one to sleep on, but because we dream of different things. It vary not because we eat different foods, some of us have none to eat, but because we understand taste differently. This tastes or dreams or understanding is the rudder that stirs our choices. And because we understand and perceive differently, we react differently.

We see people do stupid things. Some people acts on impulse. Some people do crazy things that may seem to defy logic. Things that we thought impossible for people to do? But have you ever asked yourself what are possible and impossible? Our perception for possibility and impossibility depends on our knowledge and logic. but our knowledge and logic is not absolute, therefore, our grasp for what is possible and impossible  is limited.  Meditate on things you do not know, maybe the “Possibility” lies there.

I don’t know what my fate will be. I have a very shallow logic about matters concerning the mysteries of life. But let me speak with authority this time around. Please indulge me a few moments through the generosity of your soul, and let this fool speak with authority about some foolishness.

I only understand one thing. I am here because my choices lead me here. In the next few days I would make a decision that would change my life forever. What it is, is for me to keep (even fools are allowed to bury their own secrets). But I have this to say; My life is a roller coaster ride (maybe just like everyone else’s). I made huge mistakes in my life, and I do that a lot. A lot that if people actually learn from their mistakes, I would have been the smartest guy on the world.  My fate is what I make. I’ve decided to make it so with the options I choose and the actions I made. No one made those choices for me. I choose to have it. Fate therefore my friends is where our choices take us.

Here is just a fool blabbering about fate. If you have heard this blabbers from someone else before, well then, perhaps I’m not the only fool around

The Window

The old room is long gone now, but the window is still there. The old office of the Louisian Courier (official student publication of the University of St. Louis) at the 4th floor was torn down years ago. It gave way to the bridge that now connects the library and the E building. The entire back wall was torn down but the left wall was left untouched. The wall where the window is located. 

I can still remember how I use to stand infront of the window looking down the covered walk. Watching the going and coming of the students through the front gates of the University of Saint Louis Tuguegarao.  I remember how the falling leaves of the old Acacia tree pass before my before my eyes before it gently hit the concrete pavement below. I can still remember the countless times when I was thinking of something to write. How I stood infront of the window, trying to draw inspiration from the outside world through its rectagular frame.

I learned some basic lessons on how to play the games of life inside that old office, with that window as a witness. I remember, I was peaking trough that window one day when when my former school paper adviser and mentor- Dr. Ferdi Cortez (he was not yet the the adviser during that time) told me, “You are doing the right thing. It is easy to look for inspiration when every question lies down there and you are up here looking down.” He told this to me out of jest. He was on his usual playful mood that day. I smiled about it, but I know deep down inside me that he is right. Birds eyeview. That’s how they call it. It’s like being an observer in a game of chess. The players don’t see the scenario as clearly as you do when you are just the spectator. From that day on, Everytime I was looking for answers, I consult the window.

The window became the silent witness on everything that happened in that old office. I remember my first Editor-in-chief, Rex Lallata. and I remember the after dark bull sessions inside the office. I remember how I was put to a hot seat infront of the editorial board for an interview that turned out to be an initiation of some sort. I remember the informal tutorial in using Adobe Photoshop and Pagemaker from Rex. The tutorial that I later used when we both worked in a printing press.  We were passionate with the school paper. To say that we are a devout louisian staffers is an understatement. It is on that room the we ploted how to confront the school administration about our rights with only the campus journalism act as our only ammunition. We pushed as hard as we could and got away with it. looking back today, It all seems funny. Yet, come to think of it,  I learned so much on that entire experience. So much that when I was selected as the editor, I thought I knew everything. I felt invincible.

It’s infront of that window that I finally understood the difference of winning and losing, and how they are not so different after all.

Today I visited the University. I passed infront of the new Louisian office on the ground floor of the San Jacinto building. The new office got a window but it’s still in the ground floor. I saw new faces discussing old student problem. Then I saw that old plaque gathering dust on top of our old cabinet. The Award for Best Student Publication for Luzon during the First CHED Press Conference in Laguna. That was during my first year in the publication. Rex’s golden year, our golden year.  I looked for Dr. Cortez but he is not around. I made my way toward the stairs, racing myself straight to the 4th floor. My legs has aged a little but it still feels good running up the old familiar stairs.

The old room is long gone now, but the window is still there. The old feeling coming back after all these years. after several minutes of standing infront of that window, I descended the stairs feeling renewed. I did what I came there to do. But I still need to do one thing before I go. I went directly to the Louisian office. The staffers are still there. Still discussing the same thing. I barely nod at them and went straight to the cabinet. I pulled out my hanky and wiped the dust off that old plaque. After cleaning the plaque, I went out without saying a word. Their discussion stopped abruptly. They are all staring at me not comprehending what just happened.  They will be asking each other who I was? and they will discuss what I did. They will ask some questions. They will try to look for answers. But it will not be easy. To find the answers, they would need to dig deep to that years old magazines, or maybe ask Dr. Cortez or Mr. Jimenez or maybe, Just maybe. They will need to consult the window, as I did eons ago.