Month: April 2013

Five Deadly Sins

Nonfiction by | April 29, 2013

The act of praying or the sambahayang is one of the famous rituals of Muslims. Muslims must perform the sambahayang at least five times a day. I perform the sambahayang, but not five times a day. I do it five times a month when I have the time, or at least once every three months. It’s not that I don’t like to do it. I just don’t have the time. At nineteen, I feel that I have too many things to attend to. I have schoolwork, friends, and boy problems to deal with. Everything can be overwhelming, and sadly, performing the sambahayang is one of the things that I readily sacrifice to attend to other things I consider more important.

Whenever people ask me why I do not practice sambahayang, I always tell them that I don’t have the time. It seems that when it is time to pray, all of a sudden I remember that I have other things to do. Sometimes, I tell myself that I have to go to school or I have assignments to do or I have somewhere else to go. I know that all of these are mere excuses but I don’t really care. They can get me out of the task of praying and that makes me happy. I don’t know if my parents could tell that I am just lying, but I am hoping that they would not ask further. My Mommy always told me that time should never get in the way of my practicing Muslim obligations. It is in performing prayers like the sambahayang that I should find myself with Allah. I could find time or make time for prayer if I wanted to. In fact, I can probably pray more than five times a day if I wanted to. I often wonder how my Mommy would react if she found out. I always wish that she wouldn’t because I know that if she did, she would be disappointed. I don’t want to disappoint my mother because I don’t want to feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty. It eats me up from the inside.

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Shadows

Fiction by | April 14, 2013

Jomari is convinced that a monster is out to get him. He could see it dancing on the walls, edging closer and closer to the foot of his bed. Sometimes, he could feel it tickling the soles of his feet. Other times, it would nip at his ears. It is a small thing, no bigger than his fist. The shadow follows him even under the cover of the blanket, making its way up his legs, squeezing in right beside him. Jomari would turn away from it and shut his eyes. He doesn’t want to see it.

Night after the night, the shadow would creep inside his room to nibble at his toes. Sometimes, it would laugh at him. Its piercing shriek of a laugh would have Jomari hiding his head under the pillows. But somehow, the tinny laugh would find its way through Jomari, its echoes reverberating inside his head.

In the morning, Jomari would get headaches. He has not been sleeping well. There were bags under his eyes. At school, he often falls asleep in class, his head leaning against the wall.

In between breaks, or whenever he was awake, he thinks of ways of getting rid of the monster. The monster always comes from under his doorway, slipping in through the gap between the door and the floor.

Jomari writes notes that he keeps tucked between the pages of a notebook. He has a habit of reminding himself. He is afraid of forgetting even the littlest of things. Maybe, he thinks, the notes could help him.

 

28 Feb
I think I know where the monster is coming from.
I don’t know how it got there, but it’s there.
There’s nothing I can do to get rid of it.
Or maybe, I haven’t tried everything yet.

 
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Mga Bidlisiw Sa Awit

Poetry by | April 14, 2013

Kanunay, ang adlaw ug ang sayaw*
dungang motungha sa kabuntagon.
Dili nimo bation ang katugnaw.
Pananglit wa nimo namatikdi ang sayaw,
ang adlaw daw dakong langgam
sa pugaran nga mga bungtod,
gapamukaw pinaagi sa awit.
Pananglit wa nimo lingia ang adlaw,
ang sayaw daw gamayng adlaw
sa sangahong panganod, gapanaghoy
og gagmayng bidlisiw sa kainit.
Nakamatikod ko kay kaniadto,
sayo kong mobangon, magpaabot
sa imong mensahe nga maoy
motagbaw sa akong kamingaw.
Kagahapon, pagmata ko, mitungha
ang adlaw sa wa pa ang sayaw.
Ug karon, mitaghoy ang sayaw
bisag wa pa ang adlaw.

 

*Sayaw (o balinsasayaw) – usa ka gamayng langgam

__

Paul Randy P. Gumanao is a licensed chemist, political activist, journalist and literature enthusiast. He was fellow at the 2009 Davao Writers Workshop & 2010 Iyas National Creative Writing Workshop in Bacolod. He writes poetry & fiction.

Iboto si Trapo

Nonfiction by | April 7, 2013

Ako si Trapo Ko. Gwapito III.

Kumakanditado bilang gobernador ng Probinsya Gwapito del Sur, anak ng dating Congressman. Dating Mayor rin ng aming munisipyo, matapos mapalitan ng aking nakakatandang kapatid. Tumigil lang ako saglit sa politika dahil nagkastroke ako, pero sa awa ng Diyos pinagaling niya ako. Alam niyang kailangan ko pang maglingkod sa masa, at ngayon nagkalakas ng loob akong kumandidato dahil sa tiwala na binigay sa akin ng mga tao.

Noong nakaraang taon, nagpaparamdam na ako (wag kang maiingay ha?) sa gilid ng mga kalye. Naglalagay ng mga tarpaulin na bumabati ng “Happy Graduation” sa mga nagtatapos, “Maligayang Pasko” naman noong Disyembre. Katabi nga ng mga tarpaulin ko ang mukha din ng asawa ni Senador Villar. Napapakinggan din ako sa lahat ng estasyon ng radyo sa probinsya. Sabi nila premature campaign ang ginagawa ko pero wala namang masama sa bumabati at sa nagpaparamdam. Bakit, may nakakaalam ba? Wala naman akong nilalabag na batas ng COMELEC. Masaya na ako na kahit sa ganyang mga paraan lamang ay mapasaya ko ang mga tao sa pamamagitan ng pagbati sa kanila.

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Bintana ni Juanito

Fiction by | April 7, 2013

Alas singko ng umaga’y gising na ang diwa ko upang maghanda sa pagpasok ko sa paaralan. Lumabas muna ako upang umigib ng tubig. Maya-maya’y batid ko ang pag-dampi ng malamig na hangin sa nanginginig kong katawan. Bigla kong napansin ang mukha ni Juanito na naka dungaw na naman sa bintana ng kanilang payak na barong-barong. Nakatulala na naman si Juanito na tila nililipad ng hangin ang isipan.

Ilang segundo ang nakalipas ng makita ang tanawing yaon ay biglang nilamon ang katahimikan ng isang sigaw. “JUANITO!” Si Aling Letty na naman ito, ang nanay ni Juanito, na tila ba’y umiiyak na tinatawag ang kanyang anak. Biglang isinara ni Juanito ang bintana at madalian siyang tumakbo patungo sa kanyang ina. Ako nama’y binalot ng katanungan ngunit nagpatuloy na lamang sa aking ginagawa at itinuon ang pag-iisip sa paghahanda patungong paaralan.

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Estrella

Poetry by | April 7, 2013

(Alang kang Millefeuille Erin Casing)

Kining gihalad kanimo
labaw pa sa mga titik
nga mapatik sa panid.
Karon, igo ra nako
ang paglantaw diha
sa kalangitan. Asa
ang gilak nga angay
itandi kanimo? Wala
ikabutyag. Sa kahiladman
duna’y usa ka lawak.
Gakang-a ang pultahan.
Sa lamisa duol sa bintana,
imo unyang mapalgan
ang wanang sa papel,
gidan-agan sa kandila hangtod
masamin ang imong
kaugalingon sa bintana
taliwala sa kabituonan.

—
Mark Daposala was a fellow at the 1st Xavier University Writer’s Workshop, the 18th Iligan National Writers Workshop, and the 27th Faigao Writer’s Workshop. He’s currently working in Cebu and claims he’s a copy-editor by day, and Batman by night.