BALLISTICS

My seatmate was ecstatic. He received an “A” for a very well written summary paper much to the jealous consternation of his peers. He was caught by surprise – half-dazed, half-disbelieving. I bet there was that euphoric knot in his tummy that is so typical of unexpected but pleasant shocks. But his joy was short-lived.

No sooner had our class started with the respectable professor going over the pages of the photo-copied textbook when a classmate – tall, lean, white – walked in, fifteen minutes after the official time. She said, “good evening” in a very soft voice, tried as much as she could not to draw too much attention to her being late, and went straight to her chair.

The professor paused, somewhat irked, and made a few understandable remarks about the need to be respectful of everyone’s time – his, most especially. After all, he scolded, he was not paid much for his teaching stint in the school and couldn’t we be a bit considerate as he was tired from a hell of a day at his other job? Hey, did he forget that we did not make his choices for him?

And then, like a furious tornado, he ripped through the lesson of the night, two chapters in less than 40 minutes and briskly read through paragraphs and chapters like a mad man in a mad rush egged by an imploding tantrum. When he finished, he asked if anyone had a question. No one answered.

He then told us to get one-fourth sheet of yellow paper and reminiscent of Rambo, he machine-gunned us with one question after another without enough pauses to give us time to answer. Obviously, he didn’t want us to pass the quiz. In retaliation, perhaps, for what he perceived to be a breach of class decorum?

But the culprit was just one girl – a girl whose face I remember, but whose name is lost even if I were to rummage through the compartments of my memory. How could he have rewarded her with that importance? How could he have set aside the other forty plus students who waited for him even if he was ten minutes late himself? How could he have punished those who reviewed their lessons just in case they were called to recite or those who aspired to get a perfect score in the quiz? By acting the way he did, he showed to us that he was no better than the girl who came in late. In fact, if we were to go by the adage “to whom much is given, much is required”, he was even worse.

I watched in disbelief as he carried his thirty-something demeanor – a bit awkward for a man of his age and his profession. He was cool, calm, and collected on the surface, but there was an inner rage. I was told that the night before, a similar incident in his junior class also dampened the spirit of the hapless students.

I only got 13 out of the 20 items in the quiz – the first time I received such a low grade in a quiz the answers of which I knew very well but was not given enough time to write. But, hey, this was more to his shame than mine.

I do not know what score my seatmate received. But what I knew was that he was so furious he kicked the chairs in the room where we were to hold our next class. Imagine how let down he must have felt! From upright ecstasy to downright devastation!

As I watched our professor leave the room, quiz papers and photo-copied textbook in hand, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for that unnecessary display of immature bravado.

The irony of it all was that he was teaching us Ethics.



28 November 2008

PARA KAY GENI

Hindi ko alam kung bakit sumampa ka sa bakod ng alaala ko ngayon. Hindi ko alam kung bakit bigla kang nagpaalala. Ikaw na matagal ko nang hindi nakikita, naririnig o nadarama kaya. May kinalaman siguro yung kanta ng Chicago na narinig kong pumalahaw sa FM kanina.

“If you leave me now, you’ll take away the biggest part of me...” Di ba, iyan ang uso noon at tuwing naririnig natin, ikaw ang parating nagsasabing, “Walang iwanan ha?”

Mahigit ka nang limang taong wala, Geni. Pero buhay ka pa rin sa loob ko – sa isip ko at sa puso.

Bente-dos ka noon at disi-siyete ako nang magbanggaan ang mga buhay natin. Pero klik agad tayo. Itinuring mo akong kaibigan kahit unti-unti pa lamang hinuhubog ng buhay ang mga pananaw ko.

Di ba parati akong nakatanghod sa iyo habang nag-e-ensayo ka ng pagtugtog sa trumpeta mo? Di ba parati kang may dalang hopya sa akin pagdating mo galing sa eskuwelahan at naaabutan mo pa akong gising? Di ba mas malaki ang tip na ibinibigay mo sa aking tuwing lilinisin ko ang mga sapatos mo?

Stowaway ako noon at nakikituloy lang sa barracks ninyong mga musikero sa Luneta, pero tinanggap mo ako bilang kapantay.

Natatandaan mo iyong mga hapon sa open-air auditorium ng park habang naghihintay kayo ng mga manonood bago magsimula ang palabas? Naiinis ka sa akin dahil tinuturuan ako ni Rene na manigarilyo at gustung-gusto ko naman. Di ba pinagalitan mo pa nga siya dahil ayaw mo akong magkaroon ng bisyo?

Naaalala mo iyong mga gabing nakatayo tayo sa may skating rink sa harap ng Tourism building, noong nandoon pa ang malaking globe fountain? Wiling-wili tayong manood ng mga magkasintahang iba-iba ang dramang ginagampanan sa kanilang pamamasyal. May mga nagkakatuwaan. May mga nag-aaway. May mga naglalambingan.

Natatandaan mo pa ba iyong panliligaw natin kay Esther? Iyong sabay niya tayong pinapunta sa bahay niya sa Quiapo dahil sabay niyang sasabihin sa atin kung sino ang sasagutin niya ng “oo”. Sabi niya, kung sino raw ang bibigyan niya ng regalo, iyon daw ang mapalad na lalaki. Umuwi tayo noon na ako ang may dalang piggy bank – regalo ni Esther sa mapalad na ako. Hindi kita kinakitaan ng selos o galit. Binlow-out mo pa nga ako ng hotdog at Coke. At tuloy, parang gusto kong sa iyo na ibigay ang piggy bank.

Nang umalis ako sa Luneta at nangupahan na sa Makati, hindi ka pa rin nakalimot sa akin. Ikaw ang nagtulak sa akin para kumawala sa kaguluhan at kalayawan ng mga mamamayang kung tawagin natin ay mga “yagit ng park.”

Kahit noong nararamdaman mong unti-unti akong umaangat sa buhay at naiiwan ka sa mundo ng mga musikerong isang-kahig, isang-tuka, hindi ka tumigil nang pag-alala sa akin. Binantayan mo ako sa Singian Hospital ng tatlong araw nang maoperahan ako sa apendiks. Taga-akay kita tuwing iihi ako. Tagabili ng Sky Flakes at Royal Tru-Orange.

Nang ikaw naman ang palarin at makapag-abroad kasama ng banda, tigas mong kapapadala ng mga postcards. Halos mapuno ang boarding house ko sa dami ng mga postcards mong idinikit ko sa dingding.

Pero alam mo kung ano ang hindi ko malilimutang pagtatangi mo sa akin? Nang magkaasawa ka at magkaanak, isinunod mo sa pangalan ko ang panganay mo – si Jose Carlo. Ako pa ang kinuha mong ninong. Sabi mo pa nga, “Sana matulad sa iyo ang anak natin.”

Mahigit ka nang limang taong wala, Geni. Pero buhay ka pa rin sa loob ko – sa isip ko at sa puso.

Hindi ko maintindihan. Ikaw itong walang bisyo. Ikaw itong ni minsan ay hindi humitit ng sigarilyo. Ikaw itong galit na galit sa usok ng tabako. Ano’t kanser sa lalamunan na tipikal lamang sa mga maninigarilyo ang nagbigay tuldok sa buhay mo?

Ni hindi kita nakausap man lang. Ni hindi ka humibik. Ni hindi ka nagpasabi ng mga nararamdaman mo. Ikaw na ikaw ka talaga. Ayaw mong mapansin. Ayaw mong kumuha ng atensiyon. Ayaw mong maging pabigat sa iba.

At ngayon, hinahabol na lang kita kapag pumipikit ako at nakikita ko ang mukha mo. Nakangiti ka. Mapula ang labi. Maputi ang ngipin. Kumikislap ang mga mata. Iyan ang gusto kong maalala sa iyo. Hindi ko kayang alalahanin ka na hapis ang mukha, kagaya ng paglalarawan ni Rene. Na kalbo. Na maraming pilat sa leeg sanhi ng maraming operasyon. Na malamlam ang tinig at titig.

Kahit matagal ka nang wala, mananatili kang buhay sa alaala ko – sa malaking sulok ng puso ko – at doon kita kakalungin at hahaplusin sa buhok at patatawanin nang patatawanin.

Hindi ko alam kung nasaan ka ngayon, kaibigan. Kung totoong may langit at doon napupunta ang mga taong busilak ang kalooban at lantay ang laman ng puso at kaluluwa, natitiyak kong naroon ka. At hindi ako magkakamaling dala mo ang iyong trumpeta.

Pagdating ko diyan – kung diyan man ako makakarating – inaasahan kong sasalubungin mo ako at tutugtugan habang unti-unting bumubukas ang tarangkahan ng paraiso.

Diyan na natin ituloy ang kuwentuhan natin.