Thursday, February 12, 2009

Peksman! Nabasa Ko Ang Libro Ni Atalia

Ika-6 ng Pebrero, mga bandang alas-syete ng gabi. Nakatakda akong makipagkita sa bestfriend ko sa Megamall. Naaayon sa inaasahan ko, nauna na naman akong dumating sa itinakdang lugar ng aming pagkikita. Dahil na rin saw ala pa s’ya at mukhang matatagalan pa, pumasok ako ng National Bookstore.

Pagkapasok ko, nakuha ang aking atensyon sa tarpaulin na nakapwesto sa may pinto ng bookstore. Ang nakasulat ay, “Para Kay B (o kung paano dinevastate ng pag-big ang 4 out of 5 sa atin). Dahil na rin san a-curious ako, hinanap ko ang libro.

Ngunit bago pa ako tumungo sa Philipinne Literature Section ng bookstore, nagawi ako sa estante kung saan nakalagay ang mga libro ng paborito kong manunulat na si Paulo Coelho. Hinanap ko ang kopya ng pinakbago nyang libro (o pinaka-latest na labas) na noong nakaraang lingo ay nakita kong may anim na kopyang nakahilera doon. Di ko inaasahan, wala nang natira ni isa.

Nanlumo ako, nanghinayang dahil nga ito ang librong sobra kong ninanais na mabili sa kasalukuyan kaya lamang, nagdadalawang isip ako dahil may kamahalan ito kumpara sa iba nyang mga libro. Dahil na rin sa ala naman akong magagawa kong sadyang marami lang talagang tagahanga si Coelho, at masyado akong nanghihinayang sa 455 pesos na halaga nito, nagtungo na ako sa Philippine Literature Section.

Hinanap ko agad ang libro ni Ricky Lee, swerte at hindi ito nakabalot gaya ng ibang libro, kung kaya naman, nagawa kong basahin ang ilan sa mga kumentaryo tungkol sa libro. Nakasaad doon na maganda nga dawv ang storya ng libro. Di ko maitatanggi, na-kocurious talaga ako. Ngunit, gaya ng dati, nagdalawang isip ako kung bibilhin ko nga ba o hindi.

Nagtext na si bestfriend, malapit na raw sya sa mall. Palabas na sana ako nang masilayan ko ang isang libro na halos kahanay ng mga libro ni Bob Ong (nag-iisang manunulat na Pilipino na hinahangaan ko dahil sa natatanging tapang nya para magbigay opinion sa mga bagay na marahil ay iilagan ng nakararaming manunulat). Dala na naman ng curiosity, kinuha ko ang libro at tiningnan ang likod nito kung saan nakalagay ang author’s profile.

Nang makita kong ito ay nilimbag ng Visual Print Enterprise, napaisip ako bigla. Pano naman kasi ang publishing na ito lamang ang may lakas ng loob para maglimbag ng mga libro na may patama sa gobyerno, sa mga pangkaraniwang tao, mga politico, at sa buong madla.

Bukod nga pala sa cover ng libro, nakuha din ng titulo nito ang atensyon ko. Pano ba naman kasi, ang pamagat ng libro ay, Peksman (mamatay ka man) Nagsisinungaling ako (at iba pang kuwentong kasinungalingan na di pa dapat paniwalaan). Kung hindi ka nga naman magtaka, hindi ba?

Dahil na din sa nakabalot ito ng plastic, hindi ako nagkaroon ng pagkakataoon na basahin ng pahapyaw ang nilalaman ng libro. Hanggang autobiography lang ako. Pero, napaisip akong bilhin ang libro. Naisip ko kasi, sa pamagat pa lang, istilong Bob Ong na. sumagi din sa isip ko na baka ang sumulat ng libro na si Eros S. Atalia ay marahil ay si Bob Ong.

Dahil na din sa dumating na ang aking best friend, lumabas na ako ng bookstore at kinita sya. Subalit, hindi ako mapakali. Kaya naman, ng aking matanaw ang aking kaibigan, dali-dali ko syang niyayang bumalik sa bookstore. Sabi ko ay may bibilhin ako.

Matapos ang halos isang oras na pagmumuni-muni kong gagastos ba ako sa pagbili ng liro o hindi, napagpasyahan ko na ding bilhin ang libro. Atat na atat akong basahin ang nilalaman. Sabi ko nga sa matalik kong kaibigan, baka nga si Bob Ong at si Eros Atalia ay iisa. (Take Note: Di ko pa nababasa ang libro ay kung anu-anong haka-haka na ang pumasok sa utak ko.)

Pagkaating ko sa bahay ay dali-dali kong binuksan ang libro, at sinimulan na ang pagbabasa. Wala akong masabi. Ang daming paunang salita mula sa mga taong medyo (o sadyang) di ko kilala. Pero dahil na din sa mukhang masaya ang tema ng libro, pinagtyagaan kong basahin lahat ng mga kumentaryo tungkol sa libro.

Hayon! Sa wakas, simula na ng pakikibaka este ng kwento. Unang pahina pa lang medyo napatawa na ako. Sabi ko sa sarili, istilong Bob Ong nga. Mukha yatang hindi ako nagkamali sa haka-haka ko sa bookstore kanina. Di ko na mapigilan ang sarili sa pagbabasa hanggang sa namalayan kong nangangalahati na pala ako. Dahil na rin sa lumalalim na ang gabi at maaga pa ang lakad ko kinabukasan, at pagod na in ako, itinigil ko pansamantala ang aking pagbabasa at namahinga.


-To be continued . . .-



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So what about IT?

Anywhere you go there’s these heart shaped items. There’s this commonality with regards to the color that surrounds almost every corner, it varies between the shades of red and pink, purple is also in.

Turn the radio on; you’ll hear almost all types of love songs that they could play. Try to turn on your television and you’ll see, they’re all talking about things that define love. Read the broadsheets or even the cheap tabloids, the headlines are surveys about how sweet Filipinos are, how they truly believe in this and that. It’s all about the four letter word, love!

Out of nowhere, I came to realize that it’s almost Valentine’s. So what’s about it anyway? I am not bitter about that day, I just couldn’t get it. I mean, I couldn’t understand why people have to celebrate that day.

I remember back when I was in my college days, every time that day in the year comes, I’ll encounter a lot of flower vendors in the street, cross-paths with people who has a bundle or should I say a bouquet of flowers, or if not a box of chocolates, or a paper bag that carries almost all the sizes and classes of stuff toys with them, the nearby fast food chains are full of “lovers,” a lot are wearing almost the same color of clothes.

So what’s with the day really? I mean, why do people have to indulge themselves with those things? Things that they only do during that time of the year. Honestly, I kept on asking my colleagues and friends about the essence of V-day. Apparently, they and I share the same thoughts. What does it really means?

I am not against it. I am just worried with the fact that I think we tend to oblige ourselves to be so sweet during V-day, when in fact, we can be sweet everyday. It saddens me that people only give sweet-nothings during this day when in fact, there are 365 days in a year. Some said that at least, there’s this day wherein people could show how they love their loved ones. On contrary I say, why not do it everyday instead of doing it once a year? Why not celebrate even during ordinary days, instead of jiving with what the majority is doing on V-day? What do you think? Does it mean, people are really obliged to be the sweetest “just” during V-day? What is its true essence anyway?


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Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Second Great Copycat: The New Face of the Filipino Music Industry?

It was just a usual Saturday morning for me. After doing my daily morning routine, I went up back to my room, looked for my phone, and then, tuned on the radio. I was scanning over the different FM stations in the metro today when I landed to – as far as their campaign or should I say company advertisement is concern – the number one in the said field.

Apparently, as expected, there’s this girl with an irritating tone of voice, spieling her usual nasty or should I say doubled meaning jokes. With her is her partner who seems to be her male counterpart. They kept on talking about this and that, well actually, out of this world stuff that makes them laugh every after their spiels. I was wondering what’s funny with what they’re saying.

Anyway, after their so out of this world conversation, they played a song which sounded like one of the most famous singles nowadays. At first, I thought they just really sounded alike. But, as the song goes on – I was actually singing along with its English version – I realized that it was really it. It’s just that the one being played is in Tagalog version.

I stopped and listen to it. I was so dismayed after hearing the whole thing. Originally, the song is amazing. It’s actually one of the classic love songs which was revised by an American artist. I love the song that’s why I was really devastated when I heard it being sang in a Tagalized version.

Well actually, it wasn’t the first time that I heard an English song translated into our native language. There’s actually a lot, which really bugs me. I just couldn’t get it. I couldn’t understand why Filipino artists do have to indulge into such kind of business when we have a lot of excellent song writers. Why can’t they just stick into singing their original songs instead of revising and translating these foreign songs and eventually owning them?

Come to think of it, what if they’re in the shoes of Rihanna, Chris Brown, David Cook, and all the other foreign artists who own a lot of hit songs, which are being remade and translated, won’t they feel bad about it?

I am a great believer that Filipino musicians are gifted. I am a great believer that Filipino singers and composers are far better than any other foreign artists. But it saddens me that nowadays, our musicians seem to be degrading not just their worth but the music industry in totality. That’s why this thought came into my mind, are we really just going to be great imitators all our lives? Are we just going to be second grate trying hard copycats up until we breathe our last breath? Well, I guess readers of this post should answer those themselves.


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AN AURA OF SOLITUDE: THEN AND NOW


Twenty-one years of solitude. Twenty-one years of individualism or should I rather say, more than two decades of self-escapades? I just couldn’t care less how most of my friends used to think that I belong to the third sex community. Why? Simply because I am single all my life – well, for at least twenty-one years.

I was at first surprised on how this generation where I belong seems to give so much importance to being in or having the so-called, “romantic relationship.” I was – and still I am - a living testament that a single person could live a better life, free from the hassles of being committed with someone. But, at the back of my mind, I was bugged by the thought, “How does it really feel to have that someone?”

Self-Dedication

Dedicated to fulfilling my distant dreams, I continued being an outcast in a world where love life matters. I continued my lonesome journey making sure not to be tempted by the sweetest bid of my generation, or should I say, of every generation. It was, and it really was hard. Imagine how I let go of the thing called “love” when it knocked at my door not just once, but twice. Two loves lost perhaps.

The masquerade of happiness taunted me every time I see how I gambled my personal joy with the prerequisites of a very demanding and pressure-filled world (that’s where I belong!). Phases of nostalgia came rushing down as if telling me how stupid I was for letting love go without giving it a chance. Regrets-filled. I think that would be the best words that could describe how I ventured my twenty-one years journey.

A Ray of Red

But things have changed three months after I celebrated my twenty-first birthday. It was perhaps, a major turn of events. It was like love knocked real hard that I just caught it bugging my world. For the first time, I gladly accepted my fate, to love and be loved by a man who I truly admired and yes, I do really love. A man who once knocked but I left the door closed so as not to be disturbed. At last, I’m free from the very judgmental eyes of people who thought I was a lesbian – though it has nothing to do with why I entered the relationship.

And so I was happy, and I guess he was too. It was not an ordinary love story that started with a bunch of roses and chocolates, exchanges of sweet-nothing text messages, often visits at home, and the like, which actually comprises the “ligawan stage.” We never indulge ourselves into that. Perhaps that was because we are best of friends. Yes, we are friends turn lovers – without planning it of course. I guess that is what love is all about, being into it without neither planning nor realizing that you’re hooked to it already. It’s like you just woke up and the truth lies beside you whether you like it or not.

Just like any other couple, we were happy having each other around. We often have long talks and exchange of “I love you’s.” Undoubtedly, I couldn’t truly express how joyful I was during those times. Alas! I have my own love story to share to my folks. Unlike before, my role was to act like I am the greatest listener of my friend’s love affairs while thinking about how my love story would be, but of course, without their knowledge.

The Painful Turn

But unfortunately, it wasn’t inspired by the usual fairytale ending, “…and they live happily ever after.” In just two months, we’re done. It was a shocking reality that hit me, my first heartbreak. I didn’t even have a hint that things will turn that way. Never did it cross my mind that that scene would come in such an early stage.

Admittedly though, we had our share of a couple of misunderstandings in that short period of time. But I’d say we’ve handled it maturely. We were the type of couple who talk things over and won’t let anything just pass without sitting and tackling it out. We were okay as far as our last week of being together is concern.

Apparently, my world was shattered. I’ve had a lot of queries that even up to this moment, I still haven’t found the answers. My once upon a time sweet love story ended in a shot taken wherein I was not prepared to take a pose. My self-esteem was crushed into tiny pieces. I didn’t even have the courage to face the world after that forgettable yet memorable night.

I’ve had my share of sleepless nights, crying myself to sleep, loss of appetite, loner times, if only monologues, and yes, I went through the painful process or should I say stage of depression. I was in denial of the truth. I just couldn’t accept why when all along I thought we’re fine, this had to happen.

Coping Up

After all that happened though, I was never mad at him. Not even a single day has passed that he did not cross my mind. A fact which a lot of people might think, I’m the most stupid person on earth. Imagine, knowing that it was him who ended it, he was the one who dumped me, I on the contrary was still the one doing favors for him.

I was hurt, yes indeed. But, I was the one who made things a lot easier for both of us. He asked for our friendship to stay, and so I did. It wasn’t easy. Imagine how hurtful it was for me yet there I was texting him as if nothing happened. I guess I owe myself a best actress award for being such a girl. But I admit, though it was painful to act that way, I still did. After all, he was my best friend even before we decided to take our friendship one step higher. I won’t allow our six years friendship be trashed just because we split up anyway – and I think that’s vice versa.

Apparently, we remained friends though the bond that we used to have hasn’t returned yet. Well I guess, time and only time alone can tell. But if there’s one thing that I am sure of, it’s the fact that he has been and will always be someone special in my life.

Learning From “It”

When I was single, my definition of love was as simple as being happy with someone special. But when I encountered it, I realized that there is no exact definition of love, for love defines itself. It’s a gamble, that’s a fact. For when you allow it to enter into your peaceful being, you’re also allowing all the emotions that come with it.

Loving means allowing your self to be hurt, that’s true. For love is not just about being happy all the time, it’s about allowing yourself to be hurt and to offer a sacrifice. It’s not a fantastic joyride as we often thought it is. I know I still have a long way to go to learn what this magical word truly means. I know I still haven’t encountered even half of it. And so, I won’t give up, up until I’ll know what it is really all about – though I feel it would be an endless search.

For now I will pause for awhile. I’ll let all the pain be cast away first, and if in time, love knocks on my door again, I’d gladly let him in for as long as I’m way behind this throbbing yet joyful past. For now I’ll be back from my old status, but there’s a little difference, it’s that I’m far better than who I am then.




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