Chrysanthemums, Sirens, and Remembering

Nonfiction by | April 12, 2015

The jeepney that my friend and I were in lingered for a while across the emergency room of San Pedro Hospital; the driver was waiting for more passengers. I heard the siren of an ambulance approaching and I was curious to find out what was going to be brought out of the vehicle.

“Matanda na babae,” My friend Iggy told me.

“Parang. Feel ko din,” I said.

The ambulance stopped at the door of the emergency room and a girl about my age or younger got down from the ambulance. She was wearing house clothes– shorts that were big for her and a grey shirt. I didn’t exactly know if she was crying because her facial expression was not clear from where I was but when the gurney was being brought down from the vehicle I immediately covered my eyes with my hands and kept saying “Oh my God, Oh my God.” I saw the medic doing CPR on a man. The man’s body reacted lifelessly from the force of the medic’s hands. My heart was beating fast and I wanted to cry but I stopped myself from crying because I didn’t want the other people in the jeepney to see me cry.

Continue reading Chrysanthemums, Sirens, and Remembering

Ang Nag-inusarang Pormula

Poetry by | April 12, 2015

Sa Iyang kamot nalalang
Ang nag-inusarang pormula
Nga nagpabutho sa kalibotan
Lakip ang kawanangan
Sulod sa unom ka adlaw.
Gikan sa mga puyang dahong
Migitib sa inahang-liso
Padulong sa mga bituong
Nagkatibulaag diha sa kahalapad
Sa langit-kagabhion. Kining tanan
Mituo, misunod, sama
Sa usa ka saad, usa ka mando.
Sa ikapitong adlaw,
Siyang,naglalang, nagpahulay
Samtang naglantaw
Sa iyang mga ginama, apan
Basin gipamaolan ba kay hangtod
Karon wala pa man nakabakod.

—
Si Angelito “Gil” Gomos-Nambatac, Jr migradwar sa MSU-Iligan Institute of Technology sa kursong AB English. Siya nakatampo nag balak alang sa Kabisdak ug Dagmay ug artikulog komiks sa Bisaya Magasin. Siya ang nagdumala sa bag-ong gitukod nga “Ang Lantay” (http://salantay.blogspot.com/), usa ka attempted project nga mahimong usa ka literary journal ug reference site para sa literaturang Binisayang Sinugboanon. Siya kasamtangang nagtrabaho sa City Mayor’s Office- Office of Youth Affairs sa Dakbayan sa Iligan.

Tukar sa Kamingaw 

Poetry by | April 12, 2015

Gihidlaw ko sa mga lakaw nga way kapadulngan,
Ang atong mga tiil ug biste sa abog mapuno,
Tong adlaw nga niuban ko nimo–ikaw nga way ngalan–
Nangawagtang tanan nakong mga kasubo.
Gimingaw ko sa mga adlaw nga mapanganoron,
Aduna diay kalipay nga mahitabo ra kon magpiyong,
Samtang ako naminaw sa imong mga sugilanon.
Ang imong kamatuoran, sa mga atik mo ra mahuloganon.
Gapangandoy ko nga subayon ta sa ikaduhang higayon
Tong dalan nga gilakwan sa atong mga kalag.
Matag-gabii gahidlaw ako nga unta muanhi ka dayon,
Ug ilupad ko nimo ngadto sa mainitun mong salag.
Ikaw ang nawala nga nota niining hinanaling tukar
Unta mabatian nimo ning akong panghupaw.
Kon akong mga panaghoy imong mamatikdan
Anhia ko dinhi, manayaw ta sa tugtug sa kamingaw.

—
Cyrell is a psychosocial worker in a local NGO that helps young adolescent children in vulnerable situations. She is taking her Masters in Applied Social Research at Ateneo de Davao University. She paints and sketches, aside from writing fiction and poetry.

Prosesyon

Poetry by | April 5, 2015

Tag-init napud
Ang makasugakod
Mao ra ang poste
Gilansag ang mga kable
Nga naghawid sa atong mga atup
o liog sa balay
Dili makalingkawas
Daghan mokuyog
Bisan sa katagning sa init
Nabinat ang wire
Ang uban naloslos na
Hapdos og sakit
Tagbalay napugos mukuyog sa prosesyon
Kay walay katugwayan
Ang panimalay

—
Noy is an artist and an educator.

Between Pages

Poetry by | April 5, 2015

(for him, who breaks my heart without knowing it)

i press you–
like a leaf–
between the pages
of the book
i know
i will never
again
open.

—
Reil is a second year BSED-MATH student from Ateneo de Davao, and is ultimately in love with the Fibonacci Sequence.

The Talisman, Part 3

Fiction by | April 5, 2015

Continued from Part 1 and Part 2

One morning, Tefu saw the woman retching. As she bent over the sink, he noticed that her belly was unusually big. “Are you pregnant?” Tefu asked her.

“Yes, I am,” the woman said.

Tefu was filled with joy. “So you have stopped taking the pill. You have learned to love me, and you now want to bear my child.”

“What are you talking about? I have not slept with you for months. You have stopped wearing that nasty necklace of yours. You’re not the father of my child.”

Tefu was filled with rage. He raised his hand to hit her. She flinched. Slowly he lowered his hand. He could not bring himself to hurt her, and, it dawned on him, it wasn’t because he loved her. It was because she had never been worthy of his love. He had made a terrible mistake. Everything he had used the talisman for was not worth it.

Continue reading The Talisman, Part 3

The Talisman, Part 2

Fiction by | March 29, 2015

Continued from Part 1

Fedawdaw laughed aloud. “Yes, indeed. You are old enough to marry. More than old enough, in fact. The men your age here already has children. But, inga, you don’t need an ungit. You don’t look bad, and you are educated. You don’t need a talisman to attract a woman. I can even arrange a marriage for you. My friend Datu Kling has a beautiful daughter. She’s—”

“The woman I like lives in the city.”

Fedawdaw fell silent.

“She’s a Catholic,” Tefu added. “She also works for the bishop, but as a secretary.”

“Well, I’m not surprised if you want to marry a Catholic woman. You are a Catholic yourself. The priest who sent you to school baptized you, didn’t he? He even gave you a new name. He calls you Ma . . .”

“Mateo. That’s who I am now. It’s the name I use in Cotabato.”

“Of course, inga. I understand. You want to marry a city girl. You want someone like you.”

“I’m still not quite like her, Iboh. She’s a college graduate. I finished high school only. I’m just a driver. She’s higher than me. I don’t even have the courage to say hello to her.”

Continue reading The Talisman, Part 2

The Talisman, Part 1

Fiction by | March 22, 2015

Fedawdaw was overjoyed when Tefu, one of his sons, came home from the city. The Teduray huntsman prepared a feast. He asked his two wives to bring out and cook the salted meat that the family had been keeping. If consumed by the family alone, the meat could last for a fortnight, but because Fedawdaw invited the neighbors, in one sitting, the meat was demolished.

“Now, my dear husband, what are we going to eat tomorrow?” complained Amung, Fedawdaw’s first wife and Tefu’s stepmother. “I don’t see why you had to invite the whole inged. There is nothing special to celebrate.”

“Tefu is here,” Fedawdaw said. “That is special. I rarely see him, Amung. He is always busy with his work in Cotabato.”

“You always prepare a feast for him. When he finished studying in the Catholic school, you slaughtered a wild boar and two deer. But what do you do for your other sons? When Minted, who is your first son, was married, you butchered a boar, and only half of it was cooked for the occasion.”

“Stop griping, Amung. Tefu may not be my eldest or strongest child, but he is the most intelligent. He deserves to be honored by his father.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that, Fedawdaw. That’s simply not true. Mesila, your youngest son with me, is the most intelligent of your children. Mesila knows where to set traps in the forest, what the chirping of a temugen means, and when to plant crops based on the position of the stars.”

“But Mesila, Amung, doesn’t know how to read and write. He did not go to school. He doesn’t know how to drive a vehicle. Don’t compare him to Tefu. Tefu studied in Notre Dame High School, as a scholar of a priest, and he’s working in Cotabato now as the driver of the bishop. Don’t you know how important that job is? In the Catholic Church, the priest is the datu, and the bishop is the sultan.”

Continue reading The Talisman, Part 1