Flash Photography
Eric Gamalinda
salin ni Carlos Piocos III
Matagal na, ngunit maaring
isa ito sa mga nangamatay
sa kidlat: madaling mahinuha
kung paano napunit ang langit
na parang lamat sa bumbunan
ng nabitawang bungo. Tanging ang nakikita
lamang ang nalalaman.
Ipagpalagay na lamang na iyon
ay isang agos kontra sa pangkaraniwang
daluyong ng pang-araw-araw. Isang
batis ng yumao nang himala,
hindi sinasadya at walang saysay
sa kasalukuyan, isang daigdig na umiinog
sa pamahiin, sa salimuot.
Pinipili lamang ang nais alalahanin.
Walang pag-ibig sa paggunita,
kundi pagkatupok sa liwanag
mula sa pagkalunod sa dilim
at pagkalulong sa nakalalason.
Maaring retrato ng
di gumagalaw, imortal, imoral.
O mas nakababalam, na parang sinasabi
na lahat ng ating nawala
ay mananatiling nawawala,
at ang litrato ay isang paraan lamang
ng hindi paghahanap,
at ang tanging pag-asa ay ang lente,
itong aparatong walang pakialam,
ay makagagawa ng paraan
upang mapalitan ang lahat ng liwanag
mula sa mga nagpakahulugan
sa mga itinatago nating takipsilim,
at ang paningin
ang tanging hindi nakapapansin sa lagim
ng katotohanang tayo ay nag-iisa,
na ang mundo ay nakakaligta.
At sa huli, hindi gunita kundi pangungulila
ang aangkin sa lahat,
at bilang kabayaran,
pumupuslit tayo ng alaala
para sa lahat ng nawala’t lumisan.
We we’re cruising home in your car, the June 7 morning greeting us. I thought, the skies will show me how another year will probably turn out for me. Outside the window, I saw how the blue broke into the horizon along with cottony white swirls of the cloud. I couldn’t help but smile. Then, Fiona Apple sang through your car stereo and the word ‘perfect’ couldn’t be more fitting for this ride home. I then felt your hand brush my knee. I looked towards you and saw you looking at me and I saw myself looking at you through your eyes.
“Are you happy? I mean, at this moment as I speak, are you happy?”
I was quite for a while as the skies, the song and everything dissolved into the background until all I can see is you sitting beside me. I didn’t have to open my mouth and tell you what my answer is.
Thank you for completing my birthday.
Gusto ko sanang isulat ito sa ingles. Kaya lang, sadyang hindi ko mahanap ang mga banyagang salitang tutumbas sa nararamdaman ko ngayon. Isa na naman itong akda tungkol sa iyo na hindi mo naman mababasa at hindi mo din naman maiintindihan. Dapat siguro sa simula pa lamang, naisip ko ng mahirap talaga itong sitwasyon natin. Milya-milya ang distansyang pilit nating pinaglalapit sa pamamagitan ng mga mensahe gamit ang lahat ng pwedeng gamitin sa tulong ng internet. Ang mga yakap, pilit nating dinadama kahit pa para sa atin, isang salita lang yun na nakasulat sa mga chat screen natin. Nalulungkot akong isipin na habang dito’y nagpapalit-palit ang pag-ulan at matinding sikat ng araw, ikaw naman ay naglalakad sa isang avenida habang nagbabagsakan ang mga cherry blossom sa iyong paanan. Hindi ba’t isang trahedya ang malaman na hindi man lang natin sabay na nadadama ang iisang panahon?
Akala ko ayos na ako. Nakakaya kong tapusin ang isang araw na hindi ka naiisip. Nakakatulog ako ng mahimbing sa gabi na hindi ikaw ang huling inaalala. Ngunit sadyang napakahina ko pa rin pala kahit gaano ko pa gustong paniwalain ang sarili ko na kaya ko na. Isang sulyap lang muli sa larawan mo at gumuho muli lahat. Sadyang napahirap ng paglimot. Kahit ilang beses pa tayong dumadating sa puntong kailangan natin itong gawin upang isalba ang ating mga damdamin, hinding-hindi tayo kailanman man masasanay sa proseso ng pagbubura ng alaala. Sa tingin ko, imposible talaga itong magawa. Oo, kaya natin itong itago panamantala. Ibaon sa pinakalikod at pinakasulok ng ating gunita. Hahayaan natin na tabunan na tabunan ito ng alikabok. Kakainin ng panahon ang ningning nito hanggang sa mapagkamali natin ito bilang ganap na paglimot. Ngunit sa totoo, naroroon pa rin ito. Naghihintay lamang ng mga susi upang muling mabuksan at lumabas ang mga ito, tila paru-paro na nagsisiliparan palabas sa kahon ni Pandora. Naririyan ang isang kanta, ang mga kumupas na sulat, ang mga mensahe sa telepono na hindi magawa-gawang burahin, isang kaibigan na biglang magtatanong tungkol sa inyong dalawa, isang larawan. Sa totoo lang, kasalanan ko din naman. Bakit ko pa daw tiningnan, sabi ng isang kaibigan. Ngunit ano pa nga ba ang magagawa ko? Sa mga ganitong pagkakataong nangungulila ako sa iyo, kinakain ako ng kaba na baka di na kita muli pang maalala. Kaya’t gaano pa man unti-unting kinukurot ako ng iyong mga alaala, gusto ko lang masilayan ang iyong mukha at umaasam na makabisado ko ang mga hugis at kurba nito. Gustung-gusto kong nakikita kang nakangiti sa mga larawan mo. Natutuwa akong isipin na kahit paano’y masaya ka kasama ng mga kaibigan mo. Natanong kita noon kung nagagawa mo ba akong maikwento sa kanila. Sabi mo sa akin, lagi mo akong bukambibig sa kanila. Nang mapagmasdan kita na kasama sila sa mga larawan, naisip ko, kailan mo kaya ako huling nabanggit sa kanila? Napansin ko, bago na naman ang gupit ng buhok mo. Mas lalo ka pang pumayat ngayon. Sabi ko sayo, kumain ka ng madami at ng tumaba ka naman kahit kaunti. Napakapayat mo na naman kase. Malamang subsob ka naman sa pag-aasikaso ng negosyo mo dyan. Saka nakita ko na nagpapatubo ka na uli ng balbas at bigote. Naalala mo ba yung sinabi ko sa iyo nas mas gusto kita kapag ganoon ang itsura mo?
Napakarami kong gustong sabihin sa iyo. Ngunit lagi’t lagi akong naduduwag kapag naiisip ko na baka hindi na tayo magkatulad ng nararamdaman. Kinakain na naman ako ng takot sa posibilidad na baka ito na ang trainwreck na kinatatakutan natin. Gusto kong sabihin sa iyo na ayaw ko pang sumuko. Na susubukan kong masanay sa sitwasyon nating nandirito ako at naririyan ka. Gusto kong malaman mo na sinusunod ko ang payo mo. Inaaral ko na maging pasensyosa sa mga bagay-bagay. Pero natatakot akong malaman na baka naghihintay ako sa wala.
Sa totoo, gusto ko lang malaman mo na nahihirapan ako kapag dumarating ang mga pagkakataong ganito: kapag kumakatok ang mga alaala mo dahil lang sa isang larawan mo.
We were aboard a car named desire and the roads were empty. Perhaps it was all a reflection of how life turned for us. As much as we try to put meaning to all the complications life bestows on twenty-somethings like us, we never expected to find the answers on a vacant Aurora Boulevard.
After surviving the battlefield called EDSA, we turned right towards nowhere, up that fly-over, a concrete stairs to the stars. You knew how much I love being your passenger. I would always roll down the windows and ceremoniously light a cigarette and dangle my hands dangerously over it.
“I will miss the feel of your sweaty palms on mine,” you will teasingly tell me as you state the danger of my hands being cut-off by a speeding car.
“Go and find a girl with dry palms, manicured pink nails and hold her hand until she breaks your grip.”
“I can but you know that I won’t.”
And I will be mad for a second and you will just laugh about it and you will play with my hair and everything will be forgotten.
The buttons on your player are all positioned funny, perhaps from the thousand times that I have pushed it as we always look for the perfect song of our every nighttime escape. It can be a random OPM song if we are in that playful mood and we would sing our lungs out and give each other a soft punch on the shoulders. Most of the times, it will be something mellow, melancholia love mood, Wong Kar Wai scenes in the flesh but instead of narrow hallways with flowing red curtains, we have our black and white pavement and asphalt as background. And during our drive home after a heated argument, we let violent car horns, screeching tires and tired collective grumbles as our soundtrack. And once in a while, it will be punctuated by my sudden outbursts, screams of hate and love.
I am everywhere in your car. You discarded the rosary that hung solemnly on your rearview mirror. Perhaps it was right after I told you that if ever we come across our death on these dangerous roads, it would make me guiltier to stare at those little black beads as I gasp for breath. It would even be scary. I will feel as if it is God’s eyes looking straight down at me, laughing at me and my hedonisms, synchronized with the angry red glow of the ambulance. So for now, your mirror is empty. All I can see is the black leather of your backseat and the rushing lights of motorists driving behind us. The dashboard is a collection of receipts and rush love letters. You said it was all part of your attempts to woo a poet and I disagree. I told you, my poems are not born because of momentary rush of feelings. I told you, it was all because of you. You nodded and smiled and I knew that you understood.
But this night, we were surprised to see that we were coasting along an empty street. I joked that we are in a rerun of an X-Files episode. This is not a road but a tunnel towards the unknown and you glanced my way and smiled. The lampposts are skeletal figures, an exclamation on every curb. You, on the other hand, toyed with the idea that we are inside a Palahniuk novel. And I glanced at the last curb we passed, thinking that a hiding car will suddenly collide with us.
“Lampposts are sad. Just look at their yellowish glow.” I said out of the blue.
“They are sad because they know that there are other lampposts but they can’t be near each other. There is this distance before you get to the next lamppost.”
“The night is poetic.” Suddenly the posts began to have faces in front of me. Long, sullen faces with yellow floodlights, illuminating tired lines.
“You are sad just like them.”
“I’m not. I’m happy riding shotgun in this little car of yours with cigarette as air freshener.”
You gave my face a slight tap and a little peck on the forehead.
“Bavarian.”
“What?”
“The air smells like Bavarian-filled doughtnuts.”
And as I look outside, I see the doughnut store with its rainbow lightings, probably a cover-up to all the sad conversations over bitter cups of coffee.
“Most of the things that we want to say are always left unsaid. I wish I have the power to read your mind during our coffee break sessions so I would always know what you are thinking during that pause before you take your next sip,” I said.
“Do you really want to know? Besides, I always think about random things. Paperworks. That old lady on Sta. Mesa. The traffic and those damn traffic enforcers. And you of course.”
I glanced at you while you drive. Everything was blurry. Trees, buildings, mrt stations. But you remained as clear as ever and that thought made me feel safe.
We were the only ones cruising along the boulevard. The other side was empty as well.
“Its scary. I feel like we were the only human beings left on this world. Why are there no people headed somewhere or people going home at this time?”
“Maybe they are now where they want to be at this moment. They are probably riding in their cars, taxis, buses and jeepneys and they are all headed towards their destination. They are either alone in their seat. Probably gathering up courage to start a conversation with the passenger nearest to them. Maybe they are just like you who dreams of having a nice, random conversation with a stranger just like Natalie Portman and Zach Braff in Garden State. Or maybe they are sitting side by side with a person they want to ride their entire life with. Their heads are probably rested on each other’s shoulders, dreaming of faraway constellations, drifting in daydream nation.”
“Just like this?” I asked as I drew closer to you and rested my head on your shoulder and closed my eyes as the cool Manila breeze blew on my hair.
“Or maybe, they are just like me. They are already home,” you answered as you gently placed a kiss on my head.
And at that moment, I was ready to go on forever like that. No roads will ever be lonely because we have this car and each other.
I’ve come to realize…
Replace my answers with yours and spread the love around:
1. I’ve come to realize that my boobs…
just needed a good push-up bra.
2. I’ve come to realize that my job…
is tedious but it gives me something to look forward to every 15th and 30th of the month.
3. I’ve come to realize that when I’m driving…
I don’t know how to drive.
4. I’ve come to realize that I need…
assurance all the time.
5. I’ve come to realize that I’ve lost…
a lot of people because of what happened the past few months and I don’t feel guilty about it because I’m much better now.
6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when…
people don’t act their normal self.
7. I’ve come to realize that the person I like…
is far and has become distant.
8. I’ve come to realize that money…
always end up being spent on the wrong things.
9. I’ve come to realize that people…
will leave and all we can do is hope that someone new and better comes along to replace them.
10. I’ve come to realize that I’ll always be…
fat because I will never lose weight. Haha.
12. I’ve come to realize that my mom…
has endured a lot of things.
13. I’ve come to realize that my cell phone…
is at times, the only thing that binds me to some people.
14. I’ve come to realize that when I woke up this morning…
that I missed that volleyball game I’ve been wanting to watch.
15. I’ve come to realize that last night before I went to sleep…
that Chi is someone that I can’t afford to lose in my life.
16. I’ve come to realize that right now I am thinking about…
whether I’ve really lost weight.
17. I’ve come to realize that my dad…
has been the most influential person in my life.
18. I’ve come to realize that when I get on Facebook…
I always foolishly hope for something from him and always log-out disappointed.
19. I’ve come to realize that today…
was made interesting by an exchange of text messages with Chi.
20. I’ve come to realize that tonight…
is just every other night during the week.
21. I’ve come to realize that tomorrow will be…
Thursday and is a day closer to the weekend.
22. I’ve come to realize that I really want to…
go get my act on and get a passport and get hope that I can leave this country.
24. I’ve come to realize that life…
is an abstract painting.
25. I’ve come to realize that this weekend…
will probably be tame and quiet.
26. I’ve come to realize that my ex…
indeed younger than me but was very, very matured when it comes to our relationship.
27. I’ve realized the best music to listen to when I am upset…
is the playlist I made at imeem.
28. I’ve come to realize that my friends…
are an eclectic mix of people full of awesomeness.
29.I’ve come to realize that the past year (2008)…
was probably the toughest for me.
30. I’ve come to realize that the last person I kissed…
is someone I grew up with and has been dying to kiss me for the longest time. Haha.
31. I’ve come to realize that when people walk out of my life…
I have to move on and forget them too.
In a month’s time I will be turning 23 and I am yet to find out if the idea terrifies me or not. I sure hope that it will not cause me too much panic the way the number 22 did.
As I said to a friend, I really don’t feel old. I am far from pushing the panic button because I am a year closer to being 30 or 40 or whatever. I feel fine actually for my age. I sometimes feel that I haven’t left the state I was in when I was still 18. And with that, I mean, I get to do the things I love (i.e. lazy, pusoydos mornings with friends and impulsive inuman over at someone’s house). I get to be around people who make me feel young and who take life easy but are always ready to headbutt things whenever necessary. They are reminders that, sure life gets old but we can always go against the tide and snatch a couple of years or more just to keep us sane. Who would want to know the answers to life when they’re 23? I’d rather get those random anxiety attacks once in a while than to always fret about how life will turn out. We humans should stop trying figuring life out. It was fashionable during the ancient times but now, it can only earn you a one-way ticket to an asylum. What I’ve learned from the short 22 years that I have been living is that life will always, always give us second chances at EVERYTHING. Most of the times we always feel terrible if things fuck up or don’t turn out the way we want it to be. We blame ourselves, we blame somebody else and we blame whoever it is up above. Then we think that it is the end of the world. Wouldn’t it be sad to think that the last thing you remember of life was the most terrible that ever happened to you? Out of all the gazillion of happy things life offers us, it takes a lot of effort to just focus on a single bad thing. Sick and sad.
I know this doesn’t sound like me. But I guess it’s the caffeine and the fact that *toot* hasn’t made any attempts to contact me yet that is kicking in. Or that I only made sense out of life just now. Or maybe it’s because of the vow I made with a friend that we will make sure that this year will be the year of great changes for us. At least I reached this pseudo-nirvana state halfway through the year. I spared myself a few more months of groping in the dark.
Consider this an epiphany caused by the Mandaluyong skyline. Those flashing red lights high atop the buildings are like wake-up calls telling me that when the lights go out, let a few seconds pass and it will surely light back. Hey, turning 23 is not really scary compared to life itself.
