Dalagita

Fiction by | November 23, 2008

Tumingala sa langit. Nasaan na kaya siya?Alas singko y medya. Medyo madilim na. Kailangan daw mag-ingat sa paglalakad. Mahirap na. Maputik ngayon. Sana mamaya na bumuhos ang ulan. Sumakay na lang sana ng pedicab. Medyo malayo rin pala. Parang malapit lang naman ‘to dati. Hinahatid pa niya ako noon. Pwede naman sigurong dumaan sandali sa tindahan nina Lily. Mangangamusta lang, matagal-tagal na rin. Minsan lang makalabas. Magpapakita pa kaya siya? Buntong-hininga. ‘Wag na lang, baka magalit ang nanay. Buti nga kahit pa’no, pumayag ngayon sa paglabas. Konting tiis na lang. Tingin lang ng diretso. Isang kanto na lang, bahay na. Nakakapagod pala talaga.. Kakayanin ko kahit wala siya. Higit sa bigat, yaong mga tingin, yaong mga bulong. Pero andito sana siya. Continue reading Dalagita

A Child's Intuition

Nonfiction by | November 23, 2008

It was a cold December morning when the undoubtedly strange silence woke me up from my peaceful slumber. I was four years old and it was the first time that I had actually woken up on my own. Everything turned out rather strange. I couldn’t hear the chirping birds from the outside when in fact, it was six in the morning. I couldn’t hear my mother blabbering, or the black and white TV set tuned up for the usual morning news. Not even the radio was on, nor the usual gossiping of our neighbors. The strange silence gave me the chills. I found myself silently wondering in my own room until I heard a familiar sound from the garage. It was the earsplitting sound of Papa’s old motorcycle engine. Somehow, it enlivened me so I rushed to the front door to hug him. Continue reading A Child's Intuition

Losing Mary

Nonfiction by | November 23, 2008

I was seated in an airplane going to Manila and the clouds looked so heavy that it seemed to reflect how I felt about my grandmother’s death. It was three days before that trip when my aunt had called us up to give the devastating news. My Lola Maria, as we used to call her, passed away due to complications of her diabetes. As we arrived at the NAIA, I started to feel really weird, like I did not even bother to look around me. I was simply going with the flow until we arrived at my aunt’s house. Still outside their house, I started to feel fear inside me. Fear for myself that maybe I could not bear the pain of being at her wake. I was so confused that at one point I struggled with feeling numb.

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Matríce

Fiction by | November 16, 2008

AS SHE LAY IN BED, awaiting with some dread the onset of the next contraction, Naty couldn’t keep from thinking about her mother. Mother: who had birthed her, along with her five brothers and three sisters. Mother: whose magnificent, sturdy birthing hips she had inherited. Mother: still living, with her brothers and sisters, in that tiny house in the raucous market district of Agdao half a world away.

Not for long, she thought hopefully, not for long.

“Soyez prêt. Contraction à venir,” a soft voice said. She felt the tightening in her stomach, and she strained against the pain. It lasted, she felt, for a very long time. When it finally released her, she gasped for air.

Continue reading Matríce

When Dad's not around

Nonfiction by | November 16, 2008

Here we go again, Mom’s not in the house because she has work to do, and my brother going with her. What’s left is me, sitting on the sofa watching animations on T.V. Being a son of a seaman is quite difficult because your life is like a big slice of pizza without cheese on it. Sometimes, you just wish he was here! It’s really bad how questions float in my mind without any answers, like boy-things that sometimes my mother can’t answer. Seeing my friends having a complete family makes me feel OP (out of place), and somehow, jealous. I can see one of my classmates inside a car ready to go home after school laughing and talking to his dad; his mother is there too, smiling like my mother does when Dad is here.

I remember when daddy used to carry me on his shoulders and sending me to my classroom when I was in Grade 2. My classmates often laughed seeing me atop my father’s shoulders but I was very proud he was there, with my classmates finally knowing how my Dad looked. They thought he was a foreigner, and they also thought I was an American because of my prominent western features.

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Dapithapon

Poetry by | November 16, 2008

Pagod na ang araw
Sa pagmamasid sa luntiang
lupain.
Kasiyahan at hinagpis
itim at puti
paglaya at paglisan
pagbangon at pagkalugmok
pagtangis
buntong-hininga
lahat ay pauli-ulit.
Kaya siya’y hihimlay muli
sa likod ng asul na kabundukan
at sa kalangita’y ipipinta
ang pulang anino
nagbabasakali sa paggising niya’y
may pagbabago.

—
Unang inilathala sa Liwayway Hunyo 16, 2008. Si Krisini Nanini ay nasa 4th year ng kursong AB International Studies major in Asian Studies sa Ateneo de Davao University.