MY SOUTH AFRICAN JAN

i had to smile when you quipped:
"i hope you miss me, too!"

what a stupid thing to say!
how can i miss you when
you have always been with me?

you may not be within reach,
but you have always been
within.

OF AYALA, PIA, AND YOU

Pia Zadora, she who made heads turn when she attended one Oscar evening painted in gold to resemble the giveaway statuette, once ventured into the field of singing and acting – most notably (and forgettably) in the Stacey Keach starrer, “Butterfly”.

In that movie, she sang the theme song, “It’s Wrong For Me To Stay and Love You”, the lyrics of which goes this way:


Fate led you straight to me
You came and suddenly
I was weak beyond control
I had given you my soul
My life was no longer mine

I love you more than life itself
I never loved anyone else
I tried to stop myself so many times
It hurts me
A love like ours where can it go
I must be strong ‘cause now I know
It’s wrong for me stay and love you


Once upon a time, I so embraced the song and was so emotionally moved by the words which was apt to the state of my heart during that period.

While onboard an FX this morning, I heard the familiar song again after a very long time – how surprising that the lyrics just resurfaced out of the banks of my memory as clearly as if it was just yesterday’s top hit – and a flood of reminiscence came along with it.

I remember walking along the old traffic-less Ayala Avenue and in one serendipitous moment, I saw YOU and our eyes met, and we smiled, and the next thing we know, we were having coffee at the then Rizal Theater before getting inside the cinema to watch Pia Zadora. YOU were not a stranger. YOU were the object of my high school affection. YOU were the very first person who caused my very first sleepless nights. YOU were the distant dream in my countless daydreaming. And YOU and I held hands all throughout the movie!

Funny how one song can trigger an escape into yesteryears when one was young, careless, and foolishly in love.

16 DECEMBER 2006

I am 47 today.

I looked at the mirror and saw someone whose youthful looks have receded far behind the prominent lines that resemble a cross between a crow’s feet and a spider’s web on his face.

I saw someone whose hair appears full, but have actually dramatically thinned fast enough to warrant anxiety attacks; whose grey hair of supposed accumulated wisdom have aesthetically disappeared, thanks to L’Oreal.

I saw someone whose eyes have become too ruggedly ravaged by wear and tear and too visually blurred to clearly define what is near and far; have seen far too much to distinguish what’s real and imagined; have mirrored a million and one joyful laughter and a million and two sorrowful tears.

I saw someone who has replaced shyness with confidence and outgrew inferiority to become bold and courageous; who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to get it; who acknowledges that he has needs but knows when and how to stop needing them; who recognizes where he is heading but is happy where he is and proud of what he has become.

I saw someone who has celebrated life as an intertwining of the opposites; who has soared above the seventh heaven and has plunged the depths of hell’s pit; who has wallowed in the mire of miseries and has risen phoenix-like above adversities.

I saw someone who was poor but only for a short while; who has known and understood poverty, up-close and personal enough, not to want it; who is not rich but is full.

I saw someone who is loved as much as he has loved, who has weathered innumerable onslaughts on the heart, whose body has once-upon-a-time thrived, if only fleetingly, on immedicable earthly passions despite heavenly avowals to the contrary.

I saw someone whose spirit is renewed, whose stride is full of conviction, who knows when to shout and to shut up, who is not full of himself but is proud of what fills him up.

I saw someone who is blessed with a few but precious friends that are extensions of himself and whose very presence in his life make every breathing tic-tac of the clock a joy and delight.

I saw someone who watches over his family, who holds them up high no matter how seemingly low they are, and who appreciates the reason for him being so.

I saw someone who is passionate about his work, who believes in the magic of dreaming and the power of believing, who values time and numbers his days, who makes each day count and every minute matter.

I saw someone, who, at 47, is happy, content, fulfilled, and is ready to face The End because he has, in his short life, lived.

MATH AND ME

Only in algebraic expressions can number and letters harmoniously combine. Many have said it. Those who excel in English do not do well in Math. And vice-versa. I believe this to be so.

Write a paragraph on the board, and I could, more or less, define what the subject of a sentence is as opposed to its predicate. I could probably make a comment or two as to its readability – or whether or not there is a better way to express it. But put an xy with an exponent preceded by a number, chain them together with symbols of operation, and then group them in brackets or braces – then, you’ll lose me.

This was my predicament prior to taking up College Algebra. I believe in my heart that if I do not give this subject very serious attention, I might flunk it and lose confidence in my ability to dissect numbers and formulas. On Day One, I talked to my professor, who very understandingly committed to giving me private tutorship after a one-month assessment period.

I do not need to write here how much time I spend doing reviews and extra readings on the subject. I spend more than twice as much as I normally would in my private study of formulas and terms. I do and redo exercises, learning from mistakes, over and over again.

And it paid!

On our second long quiz, I got a perfect score! I couldn’t contain my joy, that I jumped up and down in front of two stupefied classmates and a professor who said, “Niloloko mo naman ako, Mr. Garcia, eh!”

I’m still smiling when I think about that moment of sheer pleasure. Kudos to a professor who not only challenged me mentally, but also made the learning process like dancing to a waltz.