The Red Bicycle

I have something to share. You might dismiss this as something which is culled from some novel or some scenes from a movie. That is highly probable since we often hear people talk about how destiny set them apart or how it brought them together. The joy of being alive is having to partake in this unpredictable journey and experience the same thing that most people do and end with the same conclusion that most people have. As much as i want to present an original one for your reading pleasure, i can only do so much for i too, believe that it was fate that brought us together.

Bikes were the coolest toys for boys during those days. When my bestfriend finally had his bike which was silver and mine was red, we rode together side by side on the rough road around the silent neighborhood. I can't exactly remember how young we were that time but i am damn certain it was the time we had crushes, pimples from here and there, hair alarmingly starting to grow... in short, puberty. We were idly paddling that gloomy afternoon when suddenly a group of girls came out from nowhere and started yelling, "Hey you! Who's that with you?!" The tomboy who appeared to be the leader of the pack called out my friend. Apparently she was referring to me. I was starting to think perhaps i did something wrong when suddenly a smile emanated on her lips showing her two newly acquired permanent front teeth and said, "my friend here likes him." And then she turned back and teased her already embarassed comrade, which was not bad looking anyway. My friend just sneered and i, feeling awkward, proceeded to trek the remaining yards towards home.

I learned that very day that she was the niece of the old man who sells really delicious rice puddings on the side of the highway. Besides from her being boisterous, i thought she wasn't so bad too. She had these elegant brown eyes that if you look from a distance, it was as if welling up with tears . Her skin looked yellow probably from too much playing under the sun or perhaps it was the color of sunset. She had her light brown wavy hair ponytailed, probably to make her appear more macho. Her freckles were very much visible when light touches her face. Her lips reddish, probably from too much talking. There was something going on with her, so i thought. Something which is definitely worth taking a second look.

Day after day, my friend and I pursued the same path. And nosy girl that she was, she never missed to tease her poor old friend to me which I deliberately brushed aside by merely giving her a shy smile from time to time. Until one day, she stopped. I was puzzled.

She stopped reading for a moment. She got an inkling as to why she stopped teasing him. She took the time to browse through the words again as to how the writer described her. She thought that it was funny yet a little bit exaggerated but somehow, she's prompted to agree with him. He seems to remember it all as if it only happened yesterday. She set aside her protest with a smile and continued reading...

In my exasperation, i blurted out to my friend that I was beginning to like the girl. While we were biking the following day, we saw her playing with her gang with water cannons. She took a shot at my friend and my silly friend, taking it as an opportunity for revenge, shouted at the top of his lungs that I got a crush on her. Her magnificent brown eyes widened upon hearing it. She hurled back with all her might by teasing her poor old friend to me. I heaved a sigh out of dismay while I paddled away in silence leaving the two engaged in a teasing war which sounded more like World War II all over again. It became a routine of the two from that day forward. Her friend liking me and me liking her. It was like watching a re-run of a war movie that everyone can't seem to get enough of.

And just when I thought that I am going to be trapped for eternity in this child's play, i learned that her family moved out and settled some place else one day. I hardly knew her but i liked her... liked her so much that despite years of her absence, i kept asking my friend if he received any news of her whereabouts. I tried to look for signs of movements inside her abandoned house but to no avail. The corner of the rough road where they used to play fell dead silent for so many years. In my heart, I haven't given up hoping that she'll come back until we were already too old and heavy to ride our already worn out bikes. Before i head out for the city to study, i took one last glimpse of my bike. It was rusting and broken, piled up in a dark storage like a corpse. I grimaced as i gently close the door. I silently bid goodbye to the bike and to her.

She felt sorry for having to leave that time. The decision was not hers to make. She wondered if it would have been better off if she stayed. However, it is pointless to think about it now...

Although i spent most of my time in the city for over a decade, i made sure to pay a visit to our home town once in a while. I bear witness as changes started to engulf our home town. The once dusty rough road is now partly cemented, probably a political strategy to entice the remaining half of the residents in the subdivision to vote for the incumbent authority. More houses were built, new faces i hardly know. The kids that used to play butt naked on the side of the road are now a bunch of professionals making a living for their respective families. This thought brought to my mind my bestfriend. I wondered if he finally got married. So, i decided to pay him a visit during one of my holiday vacation. Memories poured in as me and my friend talked about our childhood memories. When silence fell between us, i tried to shove off the awkward moment by asking about the girl with light brown eyes who used to tease us when we were out riding our bikes. I can't help but shook my head in disbelief that she was back and that my silly friend was trying to woe her. I smiled when he told me it was a futile attempt.

Fortunately, he did not hesitate when i asked him to formally introduce me to her. She acceded to my friend's request to meet me. The girl's house was a few blocks away from my home. While we were approaching the threshold to their house, we were met by a girl. I wondered if it was her. I searched for any familiar signs of the girl i know from way back childhood. I don't seem to recall this one, i thought. This one's taller, got a perfect set of teeth, smooth straight hair with highlights of light brown color, a bloody red lips and a skin as white as snow. Although the one that stood in front of us was a beautiful sight, my mind wandered to the place where the girl i used to know was. It wasn't her, i thought. I was about to ask my friend who she was when suddenly our our eyes met. It was the same eyes who captivated me for so many years, the set of eyes who'd sent me to dream land every midday after eating lunch, the eyes which seems to overflow ith tears from a distance, the very same eyes who motivates me to endure the heat of the sun just to see it set in my direction. Realizing that i'm finally standing face to face with her, my world stopped momentarily. And from that moment, i finally quit paddling my old red bicycle.

And that is my story. It may not be the greatest story ever told, you may even say it's cheesy. However, the sole purpose of me putting this in writing springs forth from my desire to tell the lonely hearts out there that wherever you maybe, whatever your circumstances are, your very own story unfolds by itself as long as you don't stop paddling your very own red bike. The destination may be obscure at times but this is just something which makes the journey a little bit more exciting.

She smiled as she gently laid down the manuscript. She eyed the time on the clock placed on the office table. She took a piece of paper and scribbled a message which she gently pasted on the computer screen. The note reads: Honey, I enjoyed reading your work. I have to leave for a while to pick up our daughter in school. I'm sure she'd love to hear it before she goes to bed tonight. Love, that girl with elegant brown eyes wearing a pony tail to appear more macho.

Bulaang Propeta

Ang tahimik na paglalakbay sa kahabaan ng Quezon Avenue ay binasag ng isang anunsiyo mula sa isang mamang nakaupo sa pinakadulo ng pampasaherong jeepney. "Ako ay may nadiskubre!" ang sambulat ng mama na ikinagulat ng mga kasamahang pasahero. "Ang aking nadiskubre ay siguradong ikapapahiya ng mga maraming syintipiko."

Hindi alintana ang nagtatakang tinginan ng mga tao sa paligid niya, siya'y nagpatuloy, "ang mundo ay bilog at flat! Pagmasdan nyo ang larawang ito," sabay hugot sa plakang nakaipit sa bag at buong yabang na iwinagayway ang larawan ng isang baybayin malamang ay hango sa isang isla sa Pilipinas. "Hindi ba kayo nagtataka kung bakit hindi nyo nakikita ang dulo ng baybayin na ito? Datapwa't ganun ang sistema, patuloy pa rin ang pag ikot ng mundo. Ito ay dahil ang mundo ay bilog at flat!"

Pigil na ngiti ang namutawi sa mukha ng iilang nakarinig. Ang ilan nama'y nabahala sa pag-aalalang nahaluan sila ng pasaherong may dipirensya sa pag-iisip. Subalit ito'y hindi naging hadlang sa walang patumanggang paglalahad niya ng kanyang mga nadiskubrehan. Magmula sa pagiging bakla ng North Pole, ang pagiging kulay itim ng liwanag, ang nakapagtatakang malamig na klima sa 'Pinas, hanggang sa umabot sa pagiging sugapa ni Ernie Baron sa shabu at kung bakit ang mamang iyon ang dapat na ituring na walking encyclopedia.

"Isa kayong malaking tanga kung hindi nyo maintindihan ang mga simpleng eksplinasyon na ito!" Ang buong hambog na sambit ng mama, subalit ito'y hindi bilang pagtatapos kundi isa lamang pagbubukas sa kunwa'y malalim na kadahilanan ng kanyang mga nadiskubre. "Hangga't hindi nyo binubuksan ang inyong mga mata sa mga katotohanang ito, patuloy na lulubog ang ekonomiya sa kahirapan, hindi titigil ang korapsyon sa gobyerno, dadami pa ang magiging pokpok sa lipunan at mga kabataang babae na marerape ng mga adik!" Ang walang habas at matigas na sambit ng mama sabay wagayway ng kanyang plaka sa mga motoristang naghihintay sa muling pagdaloy ng trapik.

Ako'y nawala na nang muli niyang buksan ang topiko ng pagiging walking encyclopedia niya. Gayunpaman, naisip ko na paminsan minsan kailangan natin ng mga taong ganito. Mga taong ang layunin ay ibahagi ang katotohanan kahit medyo sablay sa sukatan ng agham at siyensya. Ang taong ito ay nag-isip sa nangyayari sa palibot nya na karamihan sa atin ay hindi na pinagtutuunan ng pansin marahil sa tanggap na natin na ito ay bahagi na ng ating buhay at wala na tayong magagawa pa para mabago ito. Oo, medyo may kamahalan ang presyo sa pag-abot sa katotohanan. Minsan ang kagustuhang maabot ito'y nakakawala sa sarili. Subalit sino nga ba ang mas hangal sa dalawa, ang pagiging bulaang propeta o ang patuloy na pagbulag-bulagan sa tunay na kaganapan sa ating kapaligiran?

For The Flowers That Didn't Bloom In May

I remember you asking me one starry night to write something about you. And that, i intended to do but i want this one to be perfect... as perfect like the flowers that bloom in May. I wanted to write about how gorgeous your eyes were when you lay beside me, the cute sound you make every time you suck in the remaining syllables of your laughter, the exhilarating sweet scent of your mouth that i can't seem to get enough of, the feel of your smooth skin and the way you grab hold of my hand not to stop me from sliding down further but rather, to tease. All these things i wanted to write about in a way not too obvious. I wanted this idea to be embodied in a text with a hymn of mystery and eloquence.

But before i could utter a reply, a falling star came like a teardrop in the sky. Perhaps a stroke of bad luck, i was not able to cast a wish... a wish sealed with the hope that will bind us together and obliterate the scars of the past. You were ecstatic. You made your wish in time.

The star that fell must have carried you with it as it disappears to oblivion because when i looked down to once again catch a glimpse of that light brown eyes, you were nowhere to be found. The promise to write something about you... to write a sweet story on how fate brought us together is now more like a testament on how i loved you so much and why it wasn't meant to be. It is now more like a story of the flowers that didn't bloom in May.

The Cuddle

"There is something different about you tonight," says the woman, still catching her breath, as she cuddles the man after their passionate encounter.

"Different? In what way?" the man asked.

"The way you kissed me and hold me tonight... it's slightly different from the way you used to do," the woman replied now with a puzzled look in her eyes.

Feeling a little bit uncomfortable with the question, the man retorted, " Am i that familiar to you? Well... sometimes, you pick up things along the way... from TV, magazines... that kind of stuff."

"Hmm... i guess you're right," the woman replied. She kissed the man goodnight and turned the other way.

The man let off a silent sigh of relief because little did the woman know that he did picked up some intimate lessons along the way. However, this was not from any TV show or magazines. He learned it from some other woman. He then thought of seeing her again. Perhaps, he'll make up an excuse tomorrow.

The woman let off a silent sigh too. Little did the man know that she has gotten used to the way the other man kissed and hold her. It was firm yet gentle... a lot different from what transpired a while ago. She longed for the day she'd be able to see him again. She wondered when will the man beside her go to his usual out of town trips to attend some important board meetings. She felt fortunate that business is good lately.