Of course I should have announced to everyone I was gay the minute I entered that stuffed room reeking of smoke, alcohol and half-digested belches, just to save me from the piercing stares from the half nude men-apes. Almost everyone had the evil eye. Was it my gait? The way I shook their hands? Or perhaps my name smelled too-gay? Kyle. Kyle. At least I looked straight enough, my cohort-friend would assure. “We’ll just mingle with the boys and socialize.” Was that the same tone I heard him use when we were that close to being mauled by a mob of homophobes at that cheap joint?
Nah, we’ll just mingle and socialize. I repeated to my self - with some remorseful indignation. Socializing with nude apes had never been any of my passions nor was it a real hobby to me.
But there I was, looking blankly at the brandy (MATADOR!!) they were drinking as if I’ve just laid eyes on a map of the lost city of
“Pare, Mark,” said the ape on my right extending its greasy hand trying to act civilized by mimicking the human hand-shake.
“Kyle,” no tone of disproof there, just a hint of spite. But I was confident the apes didn’t notice (or didn’t mind). Ed, my friend, tugged at my shirt and glared like as if he’d swallowed a whole soap bar at Mark. I know that look.
“Can you hear that,” he whispered, now hinting at our code - Can you hear my boxers falling on the floor - which meant that he liked Mark and he’d be flirting all night and trying to get him stone-drunk just to have the advantage (even if it meant he’ll be buying 3 more Matador plus pulutan and cigarette).
Mark was now enumerating the other apes. “That’s Raul, we call him kuting for god-knows-what-reason. The one in the red shorts is Anton, that’s Cookie, short for Crisologo Castaña, and he’s Arthur you can call him Art. This is his place, his mom’s gone to
For an uncivilized ape, he can be warm and hospitable. I thought to my self.
“Hi,” was all I said. Fuck that was so gay. I should have just nodded absently.
This wasn’t the first time Ed invited me to a beastly session. If God permitted it, he shouldn’t have been my best friend at all. Of course we were young then and back in high school ‘till now, Ed was such a charmer with girls (his pogi-points were beyond normal) that I can’t help myself being drawn to him just to breathe some of those invisible particles that makes one pogi. He was tall (if six feet isn’t tall I don’t know what is), broad shoulders and perfectly formed pecs that could just about wear any shirt you put on it, he has unruly and ruffled hair that just makes even our teachers go gaga about it, and he has something in his eyes that makes you look at them to check if they were brown or black or grey, something that captivates for lack of a better term.
I on the other hand was below normal - I was actually, er, unnoticeable, had only one girl X (we broke off 2 weeks later after I noticed she was a dumb-ass incapable of dividing polynomials) and was a geek student leader, president of the Science and Math Club. If I were drawn by those invisible particles surrounding him, he was drawn by my intelligence and compassionate heart: I let him cheat off my own test papers. So now you see, we were best friends because I need to learn from him how to attract and handle girls, and he on the other hand needs an easy 90 on the G.W.A.
But what the ox-crap happened? Believe it or not he was the first to fall victim to the sins of
“Ed, Kyle... shhssrrh before you came we were actually arguing about ahh... certain situation. Art’s girl, you know Lisa shhhrrhh, is a nagger, always telling him what to do and what not to do... She’s even forbidding him to drink tonight! I told him to beat the brain out of her and tell her who’s the man here. You’re the boyfriend pare! If I were in your position... I’ll drop her.” That was Raul obviously tipsy from the sound of that un-earthly shhhrrr-ing. I grew uneasy in my chair as the tagay was passed in front me. I doubled my shot just to numb my self from these babbling baboons.
“Art pare, just tell her. If she can’t adjust then drop her. Easy as that,” Mark said with an obvious tone of boredom.
“It’s not that easy. We’ve not even reached our 4th month. I mean, we have no problems aside from that. She’s nice, too nice even, and nice boobs too.”
Laughter erupted from the men-apes. I feigned a laugh – Men, boobs, men, boobs, I don’t get it. I looked around and saw they’ve already drank 2 bottles. Haay, crap I’ve got to double-up just to catch up with them. I can’t stand their yowling if I’m sober.
“That settles it then. What about another topic? How about corruption in the
“I say we kill all those bastards stealing our funds the old fashioned way – off with their heads. He-he. Or I think it’s more humane if we just chop their hands off and feed it to the crocodiles.”
“Shhhh, Anton’s dad is Mayor of Lupi. You might break his heart. Hahahahaha,” Raul said. “Hey why don’t we ask Ed here. What do you say Ed? Do you have any idea how to stop this corruption?”
I felt Ed’s hand on my thigh and knew that was another signal. I pretended I didn’t notice. Let him think.
“Ahhhmm, the thing with corruption is... The government is... hey, is it my turn for the tagay now?” and he gulped two shots straight without even blinking or drinking the iced-tea chaser. Putang ina Ed, that was obviously stupid.
“I believe that we need a revolution. We need a revolution of the self. Corruption can be averted if the citizens accept it as an abomination first, a stigma on our being Filipinos. If we just change starting with ourselves then the government will also change. Vigilance is also important and we have to tighten the law on corrupt officials.” That was me of course, babbling just to forget Ed’s blunder.
“Wow.”
And that was Mark.
“I have a joke! How many feet does a centipede have when crossing the street? He-he” Thank you Anton for the diversion.
I guess it wasn’t on the menu that Ed would fall for me. It started actually when we entered college. Now college, hmmm, the next gate, the next rung in the educational ladder and the next stop: post-grad studies! Wooohooo! And where was Ed, you ask? Just right off my back ready to cheat his way through cum laude – the Arse! I took up biology, ready to be a doctor; he copied my every move!! So there we were, stuck like, like --- lost for similes.
Anyway, the thing about college is that you can choose your subjects’ schedule right? (cue evil laugh: he-he-he) So I managed to shake him off my heel and enroll secretly. He was a BIT furious I tell you, actually erasing my number on his cell phone, telling my mom (he calls her tita) that I enrolled only four subjects, acting insanely snobbish for ahmm.. 5 hours and what was actually worse, he managed to grab a copy of my matriculation form and enroll the same subjects. FUTILE I tell you, F.U.T.I.L.E. efforts.
We began to have a more mature classmate-to-classmate relationship: I let in a f e w errors on my exam, I begun my absenteeism spree, feigned sleep in my classes, injected alcoholism in my boring, dull life and started smoking; serious, real smoky, Smoking. (I will drag you down!!! Ha-ha-ha)
And that was the pivotal moment. I don’t know, but I think it was kind’a sweet when he just stepped right down on my low-liest point and swept me right off that life-cliff with that muscular, well-sculpted, beefy, thickset, burly, hard-as-rock arms. XD
He told mom I was drinking at ThePub and smoking some real smoky smoke! Mom (with Ed!!! The sidekick!) stormed at ThePub, wonders of wonders, grabbed me and my life by my ear, threw me in the car, and days later I heard ThePub was a total goner. Kaput! I guess it was because I was only 17 at that time and that it was a local ordinance not to sell alcoholic drinks to minors. Whatever happened, I was branded in my own little city: D.N.S.A., Do Not Sell Alcohol. Ed was guffawing during all the commotion, snorting even. But really, I should be holding his hand and saying thank you...
I went mellow after that. I re-enrolled all my 1st semester subjects and added four minor subjects more. And of course Ed was still there, doing what he does best: flirting and cheating. Nothing out of the ordinary really.
Until he asked me out.
Shit! My turn on the tagay again! This Matador is really going to my head now. Art a.k.a Mr. Puke Head has just finished his 3rd round blowing his dinner at the bromeliads. Poor, poor plants, all those digestive acids corrupting your leaves. Raul and Cookie have just passed- out in the sofa. Is this the 5th bottle of brandy Anton is carrying? I’ve drunk 2, they’re done with 2 more when Ed and I joined them. Shit! Of course that’s 5 moron. I’m tipsy, and just one more tug from Ed, I’ll say hi to my dinner again.
Mark is surely silent. Was it the arguments a while ago? When I made a SPEECH (!) about, about, my god this is embarrassing - about love?
Ed is now talking to Anton, Art a.k.a. Mr. Puke Head went off to his room literally crawling on fours. I can barely hear Ed and Anton. Ugh! Drunk talking to a Drunk. Just don’t tell me Ed’s flirting with this baboon! I’m left with silent Mark then. And being the codger-drunkard that I am, I know better than to be deathly silent when drinking. You talk more, your brain’s manageable, you talk less, the brain’s melted.
And then a sound... “Dude, (deathly silence again) I need to go to to to, ahhhd the CR.” Mark can still speak!!! Hurray!
“Sure, no problem...”
“KKaN you help me pare? CAnt really, ghhh walk.”
“Ah sure,” just to get out of this stinking place. Thank you Mr. Puke Head –
We half walked, half staggered to the restroom, which by the way is bigger than my goddamn room. I have to really support Mark right there in front of the toilet, afraid he’ll slip or worse, drown himself in the vortex of death a.k.a. toilet bowl.
“Just tell me if you’re through, ok?”
“Ungggh,” ok I’ll take that for a yes.
I entertained my self by looking at the fine tiles that line the whole restroom. Mosaic-like but not really, more like swirling blue and green chips dancing in your head. It makes me want to dive in and savor the
“Are you done?” and then something hit my neck.
A kiss – - -
I guess, I’ve always been cynical about love. I guess even Wislawa Szymborska was right when she wrote “Let the people who never find true love keep saying there is no such thing. Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.” Ahhhhh... LOVE was never really on my life-plan. It just upsets everything – post-grad studies, my internship, private practice, solutions to global warming and the like. The sheer idea of having to spend your entire life with this person makes me cringe, not to mention the idea of exclusivity: you’re not allowed to love another, you’re supposed to give that person your time, and energy and effort, and, and...
So that was my mindset when Ed surprised me with a date. Actually, a belated birthday date. My birthday. Nothing special really, just a barbecue-date at the plaza after our 7:30pm class. We sat at the park bench and talking about the usual things: his ex’s, his present flavor of the week, the most recent sex position he invented. It was a bit weird though when I’ve noticed I was the only one talking and he kept staring over my shoulder or at the thousands of passers-by. Weirder still when he began to talk.
“Kyle, I know this is... weird. I think I’m really in love now.”
“What, you’ve changed your side on the love argument? You’re now ready to commit? Good for you Ed. At last! He-He, what made you?”
“Just don’t act stupid ok?” and without waiting for my answer (so rude of him, now that I’m thinking about it) he added: “It’s you Kyle.””
“(...)”
“You! I, I just know it’s you. Don’t speak a word ok? (rude) I know, because I feel... complete. Yes, complete whenever I’m with you. I can even think clearly when I’m with you, spell MITOCHONDRION and ECHIDNA right, when I’m with you. I’m the best ... the best me, when I’m with you. I know this isn’t right for both of us, I’m just so confused right now, but I’m really sure I’m loving you Kyle.” OK that was a surprise – Yay! Happy birthday! I was expecting a sudden chortle, a bout of laughter that was supposed to be the hint of a joke.
“(...)”
“Did you hear me? Do you even understand?”
“I... Ed.”
“Just forget it Kyle, I acted stupid tonight. I’m going now.”
And that was that. After that barbecue-date-cum belated-birthday-date event, we were the same Kyle and Ed. Sidekicks of the other. Like nothing happened or no words were even spoken to the night. And to be completely honest, I forgot what I said to him that night. Maybe it was a ‘yes’, maybe a simple ‘I don’t know Ed’ or a resounding ‘fuck off.’
But for whatever reason I felt, weirdly, curiously comfortable when he held my hand, lingering for a brief second, and watched his back slowly dissolving with the thousand passers-by when he left. Like this was all part of a grand plan. Something I’ve always felt was my prize, my birthday gift. But will it upset everything – post-grad studies, my internship, private practice, solutions to global warming and the like? And I’m not really sure now if Wislawa Szymborska was being ironic and cynical herself when she said, “Let the people who never find true love keep saying there is no such thing. (HA-HA) Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die. (HA-HA)”
“Are you done?” and then something hit my neck.
A kiss – - -
“Whoa, what was that Mark?”
“You waNt this rhgt?”
“Want what??”
“You’re gay Ri ght? BeeN eyeingG on you at school Kyle. Give me a bLOw job right h ere , I know you wanto hehe... youR hungry? taste markie here, he’s waiting for youuehehe. Then Ill do your ass later.”
I was all of a sudden become confused of his words. I was deciphering his cryptic words for a second when he unzipped his pants and pulled his erect penis out. He pushed me so hard on the wall I thought I broke my neck. Then he grabbed me by my hair and shoved me down to his groin. I tried to protest but he was stronger than me. I managed to say “Your sick Mark!” and nothing else.
I couldn’t think clearly. I was fogged by both fear and alcohol. The friendly blue and green tiles that line the room were now his accomplice pinning me on the monstrous wall. Now I know, they’re not mosaic, they’re faux arts! Faux arts, faux arts, faux arts I kept repeating to myself just to stay focused.
“Ed! Help! Arghh, Ed!”
Feeling my obvious hostility he brought me up and pinned me facing the wall, pulling my pants down with his one hand and restraining me with the other. “Stop it! Your sick, sick Mark! Ed! Ed! ” and he pushed my head on the wall, now barely able to talk or breathe, I visualized Ed hearing through the thick walls. That’s what best friends do right? Talk to each other in their heads. So I cried so hard in my head I thought my veins would pop, “ED! HELP ME I’M IN THE CR!!!”
A searing stabbing pain in my ass surprised me and a sudden heat went up my spine like an electric shock both fearful and alien. I can hear Mark saying in my ear “Your tight, I like it. STIll a a vir gin! Hahaha.” The Devil! It was the longest micro-second, it seemed I was inhaling and exhaling for an eternal breath. A wicked god has punished me with an eternal second!
Then suddenly the door opened and a cold, foreign air kissed my brow like a benediction.
“Ed! Help me!”
“Hey! What’s this Mark?”
“join the PArty kuting! ill keep this onE a secret hehe JuSt between us!”
Mark used his left hand to restrain my head on the wall and his right to grab both my arms. My heart was throbbing so hard, I couldn’t hear a word. It’s true then; all those thriller movies were not exaggerating at all. You do hear your every heart beat!
Another stabbing pain hit me, and another, and another, and another. Another stabbing pain hit me, and another, and another, and another. Another stabbing pain hit me, and another, and another, and another. Another stabbing pain hit me, and another, and another, and another! I wish could just dive in those blue and green tiles and find my self swimming in a turquoise sea away from this room and this continent! “ED! HELP ME I’M IN THE CR!!!” my head was screaming.
After this, will they kill me? Please let them kill me! I wouldn’t mind a slow but certain death. Just get me out of this room! Get me out of these cold hands!
Then another cold air - Surely, that is Ed. That is Ed’s voice!
ED HELP ME!
I could imagine the two devils flying to the walls, their heads cracking and their blood staining the acerbic room. Ed would surely do that!
-But why aren’t they stopping? Why is the stabbing, searing pain not ebbing? Another stabbing pain hit me, and another, and another, and another. I heard a voice close to my ear. I recognize the familiar voice, the same raspy tone, but a seemingly different touch.
“I’m... I’m still loving you, Kyle. I still...”
The words were drowned by my own throbbing heart. For that eternal second, my head swimming in the blue-and-green tiles, I remembered a line I read to Ed once.
I love you, and I do not love you, as if I held
Keys in my hand: to a future of joy –
A wretched muddled fate-
My love has two lives, in order to love:
That’s why I love you when I do not love you,
And also why I love you when I do.*
*Pablo Neruda, Cien Sonetos de Amor, Sonnet XLIV, stanzas 2 and 3.
The moon hangs low over the virgin blackness of the September night and grazes over the heads of trees lining the street of Elias Angeles. Its sharp blade plays strange images at the woman’s fertile mind; a sharp-edged sickle for a pagan rite of sacrifice. Closing her eyes to extinguish the thought, the drone of prayers from the nearby cathedral floods her. It is the feast of the Lady of Peñafrancia, the ninth and last day of the novena and already she is full of wicked auguries!
Tomorrow, hundreds of men, intoxicated by days of wine and beer will try to touch the virgin’s golden image; a trophy of masculinity, worthy to be retold for a generation. The little black virgin, helpless in a sea of raucous men
“The city will not sleep tonight,” she thinks to herself. “They are either in prayer or in sin, but in any way, questions will be raised by the drunkenness of prayer and wine.” She glances at the sickle-moon with contempt and a half-second veneration, before sliding the large window checkered with square capiz shells, closing it with one, final reverential bow.
“Must we do this Rodel?” turning now to a thin, handsome man, who has already slumped at her father’s favorite couch looking comfortable.
“Hnh?”
“Must we do this still?”
“You have to speak louder Mara, I’m watching TV,” says him and casually flicked the remote control to change the channel.
Impatiently, she grabs the remote control from his hand and turns the television off. For the third time she asks tersely, “must we do this?”
“Do what Mara?” he asks back sounding more brusque at the most recent harassment of his space and will. “Don’t tell me we’re having those irksome dialogues again about your, how did you describe it again, ah, ‘disdain’ and ‘scorn’ of these festivities? I told you, traditions are, we must not reason for or against it. So, can I have back the remote now?”
Still in front of the dead TV and with hands on her hips, she looks at Rodel with outstretched arms begging for the remote controller. If only you can beg for other things. She thought secretly.
As though the night, mixed with a thousand hail mary’s, commanded it, she gracefully, like one fluid act, seats at the floor and leans her head at Rodel’s right thigh. Not knowing the battle within her, he takes delight at the sudden mood shift and strokes her hair.
He smiles mischievously and quickly erases it off his face and looks at the closed capiz window as if he can see right through the shells and trees, and see the sharp sickle-moon hanging at the night sky.
“You know,” he begins. “My Bisayan mother hated this festival. Not that she hates the virgin, she hates the way the Bikolanos revere her. Oh, she was a devotee! I can say she worships the virgin mother as equal to Jesus! But she hated how these people would hold processions trying to get anything from her – flowers, thread, and cloth, from the image. Ai! She told me she did not eat the fiesta meal after seeing the procession for the first time.” He laughs at his own story while still holding Mara’s hair.
“But –“
“I don’t know why,” he cuts Mara whose mouth was still hanging in mid-thought, “my Inay never prayed with the women of the church. I guess she was afraid they’d learn she left her lover in
Yes she heard the story, but not from him, this was the first time he said that. Her tita told her about the gossips among the old women of the church. How Rodel’s mother was ostracized in
“You haven’t told me that story.”
“But I have to tell you this. The wedding is in three days! You don’t want to marry a man with a skeleton on his closet!” and he laughs his full drunkard’s laugh. Mara thought the table has turned; she was the one confessing tonight not Rodel! Let him talk first.
“My mother is a witch.”
“Haha! Really funny. Did she leave you her broom on her will? Haha!” So he heard the gossips then. Poor Rodel.
“Seriously Mara,” he points at his face which caught the right light from the other room, making him more princely and mystical, “this is the serious face.”
“Okaayyy… go on.”
“The people call her ANITERA in
There was a lacuna of silence. A searing gap that seems to echo his last word. And then a voice:
“How sure are you about that?” Mara asks with an audible trace of doubt.
“Once, when were still in
Mara notices the trembling hands of Rodel still stroking her hair and holds them. Soothing them the best way she knows how: she kisses them. And there was a long, pregnant and miraculously comfortable silence as if they are still talking in their heads.
I am even afraid of your own womanhood Mara. Every woman is an Anitera, guardians of the earth that is also their body. But I love you truthfully and must tell you my deepest secret and fear. I must open my heart to let you in but I must veil the fear I have of your own connectedness with your mother moon. I must place the ring on your finger, that remnant of a chain, and quell your womanhood with marriage.
I AM an Anitera Rodel, can’t you see? Every woman is. Must we still go on with the marriage? The ring is a remnant of a chain. But I love you fully, if only you know; Woman will not hurt you twice, love. The Anitera will be wed.
And there in the drunkenness of prayer and wine, the sharp sickle-moon which grazes over the heads of trees lining the street of Elias Angeles, has done the ancient rite of sacrifice and left with her consort clouds.
the moon is the color of burnt glass
and the wind, a proximate murmur on our skins
gently, lovingly caressing our oneness-separateness
engulfing self and other in utter consumption.
shadow on shadow, meeting and parting in blasphemous conjunctions
even gods watching on clouds shiver with satisfaction.
tender waves lap on our toes, like angels’ touching
in their stark curiosity of flesh unto flesh
tasting our frenzied sins and oh and oh and ahhhh!
consumed – I
consuming – you
consumed, consuming
you, I – I, you
in the darkness, we open universes of exploding stars and infinitesimal moments of
creation, destruction, transformation. the dance of Shiva Nataraj on our groins
while we dance in the navel of Tranquility - OM.
OM Shanti.
tremendum et fascinans etched on our nakedness
and revelations of blinding light, illuminating the once-enfolding consciousness of US.
the fruit of Adam on my hand
the sword of Michael on yours
the eyes of the snake on the moon,
the color of burnt glass.
03152011
its mouth craves for superstitions and hungers for unseen things
like fear, love, faith, mercy, devils and angels in ministerial garbs;
those infinite exhalations of humanity, excretions of dissipation.
its shade - the color of death and other indescribable iotas. we wail upon sighting
our last rocky bed, the long fall, the wet bones down below.
the impending torment sucks our tongues and blinds concepts of morals and sins and gods
to one unglorious, breathless scream! Exhalations of lucifers and michaels!
can’t you see the world is a dry well?
dreams have no face in
only coins do.
people walk about without a trace
of a good morning kiss,
and scurries along septic walkways,
footbridges and the lazy man's lifts.
if dreams exist, they are sure to be found
behind closed eyes and the occasional
smile of a complete stranger in the train,
helping you get out of the crammed box.
when you're in
you'd be disappointed to see there's no sky,
only a gaping gray hole, a skullcap
on top of obscene towers and billboards.
and sleep never conquers
she passes on swift wings
never looking under dark bridges and skyways
where the restless ones wait
for her final gift of sleep.
the sun never really shines in
you never really see the sun rise in the east,
you never see it cross over your head,
nor hear his last departing sigh.
only the gray plume of amassed sin and smoke,
sits idly on the city,
and a thousand faceless dreams
deafeningly audible as a permanent hum.
it sounded like a
snip, snip
on our roof.
i looked out.
looked up.
and only a mocking, tangerine sky
drips unwashed memories on
my brows.
Isang Makabagong Sarsuela sa Panulat Ni Romulo Vinci Rada Bueza
Mga Tauhan sa Sarsuela:
Mara – nagdadalawang isip sa magaganap na kasal.
Rodel – nobyo ni Mara
Inay ni Rodel
Teofilo – tito ni Rodel
Batang Rodel
Koro/Magnonobena/Kababaihan
TAGPO 1 – Sa loob ng bahay ni Mara (may makikitang larawan ng bagong buwan at mga ulap sa gawing likuran ng entablado mula sa isang projector. May capiz na bintana ang bahay ni Mara, sa bandang kanan naman ng entablado ay may upuan na nakaharap sa isang telebisyon)
Eksena 1
Musika 1
Maririnig ang boses ng mga matatanda na umaawit mula sa loob ng nakababang telon. Palakas ng palakas ang boses ng Koro.
KORO
Ave Maria
Gratia plena
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus fructus ventris
Tui, Jesus
- Bubukas ang telon -
(makikita si Rodel na nakaupo at nanunuod ng telebisyon. Nakapatong ang mga paa nito sa mga libro. Si Mara naman ay nakatalikod sa mga manonood, nakadungaw sa bintana at tinitingnan ang bagong buwan. Ang mga matatandang nakabelo at estampita ay nakapwesto sa buong entablado waring hindi nakikita ng mga tauhan habang patuloy ang kanilang pagkanta.)
Sancta Maria
Mater Dei
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae
Amen.
MARA
(naririnig parin ang Ave Maria)
Sa ganitong mga gabi
Na hinahatak ng buwan
Ang katawan ng mga babae
Sa kanyang sinapupunan,
At ang mga tala ay gumagawa
Ng mga bagong konstelasyon
Sa itim na kalangitan,
Ay nababaha ng alinlangan
Ang puso’t gunita.
KORO
May mga kwentong ihahabi
Ang bawat paos
Mga kwento ng paghahanap:
May naghahanap, may hinahanap -
tao, sagot, o kaya ay tanong.
Ng pag-ibig, ng pag-unawa
O ‘di kaya’y patawad mula sa
Abut-abot na langit.
MARA
(naririnig parin ang Ave Maria)
Nagbabadya ang karit sa kalangitan.
Pinupugutan nito ang ulo ng mga narra
Na umaabot sa kaniyang talim.
Hindi sila umiiwas, may kakaibang
Pag-unawa sila sa ginagawang tagba.
Matalim ang karit na buwan
At pati ang hangin ay ginagayat
Sa sanlibong gaway.
Ngayon ang huling gabi ng nobena sa itim na birhen.
May unos mula sa bibig ng mga matatanda
Sa lumang simbahan ng lungsod:
Umaawit sa pagbalik ng bilog na buwan.
Hindi matutulog ang lungsod ngayong gabi,
Sila’y nasa kaluwalhatian o kaya’y kasalanan.
Kahit ano pa man, may mga tanong na dapat masagot
Sa banaag ng karit na buwan.
Bukas magaganap ang prusisyon ng itim na birhen
Sa dagat ng mga kalalakihan.
Kalunos-lunos na imahe sa gitna
Ng mga lasenggo, sugalero, mamatay-tao’t
Mga hinlog ni Cain!
Habang ang birhen ay naliligo sa kasalanan
At ang mga paniki’y nagsisilikas sa
paparating na sigwa.
Nagbabadya ang karit sa kalangitan,
Nagbabadya ng paganong tagba
sa lahat ng mabanaagan nito!
KORO
Kaming matatanda’y aawit ng walang
Humpay na luksa, hanggang maging isang unos
Na hahampas sa pusod ng Birhen.
Para sa kapatawaran!
Para sa pag-unawa!
(isa-isang aalis ang mga matatanda habang umaawit parin ng Ave Maria.)
Eksena 2
MARA
Kailangan pa ba nating gawin ito, Rodel?
RODEL
Hnh?
MARA
Kailangan pa ba ‘to Rodel? (mas malakas)
RODEL
Lakasan mo Mara, hindi kita marinig. Nanunuod ako ng T.V.
(papalitan ang channel)
(lalapitan ni Mara si Rodel at kukunin ang remote control. Isasara ang T.V. gamit ang remote.)
MARA
Kailangan pa ba natin ‘to?
RODEL
Kailangan ang alin? (iritado) Andito nanaman ba tayo sa usapang ‘to? Ano nga yung sinabi mo kahapon? Ah, ang nakamumuhing piyesta ng birhen ng Naga. Ang sabi ko nga, wala tayong magagawa sa tradisyon at kinaugalian, wala tayong karapatan na mamuhi sa isang tradisyon. Kaya Mara, yung remote…
(nakaabot ang kamay kay Mara, nagmamakaawa)
MARA
(magbubuntong-hininga at kakausapin ang sarili)
Iba nalang
Kung maaari’y…
(Maririnig ang Koro at sandaling matatahimik ang mga tauhan.)
KORO
Nagbabadya ang karit sa kalangitan.
Pinupugutan nito ang ulo ng mga narra
Na umaabot sa kaniyang talim.
(Uupo sa sahig si Mara at ipapatong ang ulo sa binti ni Rodel.)
Hindi sila umiiwas, may kakaibang
Pag-unawa sila sa ginagawang tagba.
Matalim ang karit na buwan
At pati ang hangin ay ginagayat
Sa sanlibong gaway.
RODEL
(Habang hinahaplos ang buhok ni Mara, titingnan niya ang buwan at ngingiti siya sa pagbabagong-ugali ni Mara. Naririnig ang Ave Maria na unti-unting nawawala)
Alam mo bang galit na galit rin si Inay sa piyestang ito. Tamang tama ang sinabi mong pagkamuhi.. Kinamumuhian ito ni Inay. Hindi sa galit siya sa birhen, galit siya kung paano sinasamba ng mga taga-rito ang birhen.
Isa siyang deboto, Oo! Ngayong naiisip ko nga, mukhang pantay ang pagtingin niya kay Hesus at sa birhen.
Isang napakalaking heresia Mara, kung ako ang tatanungin mo.
Galit daw siya sa mga kalalakihan na nagpuprusisyon sa birhen. Galit na galit siya kapag nakikita niyang pinagkakaguluhan ang itim na imahe at ang mga bulaklak, ang damit, ang korona nito na parang babaeng ginagahasa sa lansangan at pinapanood ng mga taong-bato.
Noong una niya raw makita ang traslacion, hindi siya kumain ng handa sa piyesta kahit nandun yung paborito niyang kare-kare at leche flan. Ha ha ha!
MARA
Pero Rodel…
RODEL
Ngayong naisip ko… hindi ko alam kung bakit hindi sumasama si Inay sa mga nagnonobena sa birhen sa lumang simbahan. Siguro takot siya… Takot siyang pag-usapan ng mga tao na iniwan niya ang kanyang nobyo sa
Kahit hindi siya sumasama sa lumang simbahan kasama ang mga matatanda ng Naga, meron siyang replika ng birhen sa aming altar at doon siya nagdarasal ng nobena.
Mara, hanggang sa mamatay siya , hindi na siya nanood ng prusisyon ng birhen.
Kaya naiintindihan kita. Naiintindihan kita ng lubusan Mara…
MARA
Hindi mo pa yan naikwento sakin…
RODEL
Pero kailangan mong malaman. Ikakasal na tayo sa Sabado, tatlong araw mula ngayon!
Hindi pwedeng ikasal tayo na may mga tinatagong sikreto!
Ha Ha Ha!
(titindig si Mara)
KORO
(mahina)
May mga kwentong ihahabi
Ang bawat paos
Mga kwento ng paghahanap:
May naghahanap, may hinahanap -
tao, sagot, o kaya ay tanong.
MARA
(sa sarili)
Ako ang dapat na may aaminin. Ako ang may kailangang malaman ngayong gabi.
(titingin sa buwan)
Siya muna ang magsalita. Siya muna ang magkwento.
RODEL
Manggagaway ang aking Inay.
MARA
Ha Ha Ha! Akala ko pa naman seryoso! Binigay ba sayo ang kanyang walis-tambo o kaya naman ang kanyang itim na blusa! Hahahahaha!
RODEL
Seryoso Mara, paniwalaan mo ako.
MARA
(magbubuntong-hininga at titingnan ang mukha ni Rodel)
Sige… ikwento mo.
(ipapatong ang ulo sa balikat ni Rodel)
- Bababa ang telon –
TAGPO 2 – Ang Kwento ni Rodel (Makikita pa rin ang upuan at Telebisyon, nasa entablado pa rin ang bagong buwan at mga ulap. Mawawala ang ibang kagamitan sa entablado)
Eksena 1
(maririnig ang boses ni Rodel)
RODEL
Sa Bohol, ang tawag sa kanya ay Anitera…
- bubukas ang telon –
(nasa dating posisyon si Rodel at Mara, nakapatong pa rin ang ulo ni Mara sa balikat ni Rodel habang nagkukuwento ito. May mga papasok na tauhan sa likuran nila.)
RODEL
Maglalabing-dalawang gulang ako noon, kaya natatandaan ko ang mga pangyayari. Siguro nga’y mahirap ibasura ang ganitong klaseng memorya. Kahit anong pilit ibasura ang dapat nabubulok ng kaganapan sa isipan, patuloy pa rin sa pagliyab ang apoy na ‘di naman makasunog ng memorya.
(Magdidilim sa lugar nila Mara. Maririnig ang malumanay na piano, papasok ang Batang Rodel at ang Inay ni Rodel sa kaliwa. Magkahawak-kamay at nakagayak pangsimba ang dalawa, may dalang laruang eroplano si Rodel. Mukhang may kaya ang Inay ni Rodel.)
BATANG RODEL
Nay, pagkatapos natin sa simbahan punta tayo sa kainan ni Aling Concha, bilhan mo ako ng suman ha.
INAY
Oo ba, pero hwag kang malikot sa simbahan ha. Papagalitan ka ni padre. Lumapit ka nga, at aayusin ko ang buhok mo. Ano ba naman tong yaya mo, hindi marunong magsuklay. Tsk!
BATANG RODEL
Nay, ‘di ba maguumpisa ang misa ng alas otso? Eh alas otso y medya na ha.
INAY
Hwag ka ng matanong Rodel.
BATANG RODEL
Eh bakit nga?
INAY
Isa pang tanong, wala kang suman!
(papasok sa kanan ang Tito ni Rodel, hinihingal)
INAY
Teofilo! Anong nangyari sayo? Kumuha ka ng tubig Rodel, Bilis! Magsalita ka Teofilo, anong nangyari?
BATANG RODEL
Eto po ang tubig.
TEOFILO
Hwag na… Ate, Rodel…Mag-empake na kayo ng ‘yong mga gamit! Bilisan niyong dalawa. Papunta na… sila dito.
INAY
Sinong sila? Bakit?
TEOFILO
Bilisan mo na Rodel! Kunin mo na ang mga gamit mo!
(aalis ang batang Rodel, naguguluhan. Makikita parin siyang nakikinig sa usapan)
INAY
Anong nangyari? Pinapakaba mo ako Teofilo!
TEOFILO
Ate, papunta dito ang grupo ni Don Miguel ang kaaway ni Itay sa lupa. Tinatawag na siya ngayong Amang Mayari. Papunta dito ang kulto ng Kristong Hari!
Narinig ko mismo ang kanilang usapan kanina. Alas otso y medya ay magtitipon-tipon daw sila kila Don Miguel.
Papatayin daw ang Anitera! Ikaw yung tinatawag nilang Anitera Ate, ang babaylan ng mga sinaunang Anito! Papatayin din ang iyong anak! Umalis na kayo dito. Ako nang bahala sa kanila. Ate, maniwala ka sakin. Kahit ngayon lang!
INAY
(Titindig. May pag-unawa sa kanyang mukha)
Teofilo, puntahan mo si Rodel. Ayusin mo ang mga gamit namin.
TEOFILO
Ate! Hindi mo ba ako naiintindihan? Papatayin kayo!
INAY
Naiintindihan ko. Alam ko ang ginagawa ko. Puntahan mo na si Rodel Teofilo. Magkita-kita tayo sa labas, sa may punong mangga.
TEOFILO
(Titingnan ang kapatid at hahawakan ang kamay.)
Ate, mag-ingat ka. (lalabas)
INAY
(titingin sa bagong buwan at aawit ng pabulong)
Nagbabadya ang karit sa kalangitan.
Pinupugutan nito ang ulo ng mga narra
Na umaabot sa kaniyang talim.
Hindi sila umiiwas, may kakaibang
Pag-unawa sila sa ginagawang tagba.
Matalim ang karit na buwan
At pati ang hangin ay ginagayat
Sa sanlibong gaway.
RODEL
(aawitin)
May pangamba sa awit ng mga kuliglig ng gabing iyon.
Matinis ang luksa ng sapa na marahang dumadaan sa aming likod-bahay.
Walang malay na naghahalinhinan ng kaba ang mga punong-kahoy.
May alam ang ulan at ito’y nangatawang-luha -
Ang Anitera ang nasa gitna ng nanginginig na dilim.
INAY
(aawiting pasalita)
Mapuon sa pagmukna
Na mo-og an ritwal nin hidhid:
Saksi an mga gurang na tugang –
Dalisay na tubig gikan sa abaga
Kan sulong,
Paros na malipot, amihanan.
Preskang sulo sa sagradong saldang.
Madahom, mapagrangang dalipay.
Sa tamang oras asin mukha kan bulan, Guimata.
Gigimatahun an mga nagtuturog na mga katambay
Kan bulod Hamtik,
Harong
Asin sa pagdiklom kan mata, makurahaw sa mga
Gapong Batara, mga gugurang
Na may kapot sa kapangyarihan
Kan buhawi,
Pagtaob kan dagat,
An uran,
An orog na kapangyarihan
(Pupunta sa bandang likuran, sa madilim na bahagi ng entablado. Maririnig ang dagundong sa malayo.)
MARA
Totoo ba ‘tong lahat? Hindi kaya mga larawang-diwa mo lang ang mga ito? Mga… imahinasyon, Rodel?
RODEL
(magbubuntong-hininga)
Minsan din, ng nasa
Eksena 2
(makikita sa bandang likuran si Teofilo, isang babaeng parang nasasapian, at ilang mga kababaihan. Ang Batang Rodel ay nagtatago malapit sa inuupan nina Mara)
BABAE 1
Napaglaruan daw ng dwende na nakatira sa punong duhat nila Efren…
BABAE 2
Hindi, ang sabi ni Teofilo ay kapre daw.
BABAE 1
Kapre nga siguro kasi hindi lumiit ang kamay nitong si Milagring.
BABAE 3
Santissima Rosario! Eh baka loka-loka na talaga yan!
BABAE 2
Ay, baka nga. Baka na-Tipus…
BABAE 1
Hwag naman
BABAE 2
O kaya naman nakagat ng aso…
BABAE 1
May aso si kumpareng Efren?!
BABAE 2
O kaya nakainom ng ihi ng daga…
BABAE 1
Ay oo, yun marahil. Maraming daga kina Efren eh.
BABAE 3
Magsitigil kayo, heto na ang Anitera…
(papasok ang Inay ni Rodel, may dalang mga dahon at mga aparato.)
TEOFILO
Ate, Si Milagring. Napaglaruan ng lamang-lupa sa may punong duhat…
(pupulsuhan ni INAY at sisigaw naman ang babae.)
INAY
Kunin mo ang aking kandila sa aparador, Teofilo. Yung kulay itim.
(lalabas sa kaliwa si Teofilo, ilulugay ni INAY ang kanyang buhok at aawit)
Sa pagdiklom kan mata, makurahaw sa mga
Gapong Batara, mga gugurang
Na may kapot sa kapangyarihan
Kan buhawi,
Pagtaob kan dagat,
An uran,
An orog na kapangyarihan
(papasok si Teofilo sa kanan at makikita ang Batang Rodel.)
TEOFILO
Rodel!!! Chismosong bata ito! Hindi ito para sa mata ng bata! Bumalik ka sa kwarto mo at mag-aral ka! Walang modong bata! Ipapakain kita sa buwaya! Bumalik ka dito! Rodel!
(Hahabulin si Rodel hanggang makalabas, magdidilim sa bahagi ng mga Kababaihan.)
RODEL
Sunod kong nakita si Inay bilang Anitera dito sa Naga.
Nakahubo sa harap ng bilog na buwan at may mga salitang lumalabas sa kanyang bibig na hanggang ngayon ay nagpapaalala sakin sa isang sapa na marahang dumadaan sa aming likod-bahay.
Ng mga panahon na ‘yon hindi ko na siya kilala. Takot na ako sa Inay… Takot na ako sa kanya…
KORO
(aawitin at unti-unting mawawala hanggang bumaba ang telon)
Sa ganitong mga gabi
Na hinahatak ng buwan
Ang katawan ng mga babae
Sa kanyang sinapupunan,
At ang mga tala ay gumagawa
Ng mga bagong konstelasyon
Sa itim na kalangitan,
Ay nababaha ng alinlangan
Ang puso’t gunita.
- bababa ang telon –
TAGPO 3 – Ang Tagba ng Karit na Buwan (Mawawala ang mga gamit sa entablado. Makikita pa rin ang larawan ng bagong buwan. Si Mara at Rodel ay nasa magkabilang dulo ng entablado, nakaharap sa manunuod. Nakaluhod sa harap ng bagong buwan ang Koro)
Eksena 1
KORO
Shhhhhh….
May sinasabi ang gabi.
Shhhhhh…
Makinig! Mga nababanaagan ng karit na buwan… Makinig.
May alimpuyo na sumasabay sa salimbay ng dilim.
Shhhhhh…
Magaganap ang tagba ng karit na buwan. Makinig…
Mga bagong Adan, mga lumang Eba… Shhhhh… Makinig.
(Sabay-sabay na titingin kay Rodel.)
RODEL
Natatakot rin ako sa iyong pagkababae, Mara.
Lahat ng babae ay Anitera, mga tagapagbantay ng Lupa na kanila ring katawan.
Ang bawat pagpalit-mukha ng buwan ay iyong pagmamay-ari.
Kawangis ang gilalas ng namumungang kahoy at awit ng dagat; walang humpay ang bumabalot na mangha sa iyong pagkababae.
Malinis nitong hinihiwa ang mga hilom nang sugat ni Adan hanggang malamuyot ang lalake ni Eba.
Lahat ng babae ang Anitera. Naibaon na ang mga anito at aparato ngunit sila’y buhay.
Natatakot ako sa iyong pagkababae Mara, ngunit mahal kita.
Mahal kita ng lubusan. Kailangan kong sabihin ang aking mga takot at poot. Kailangan kong buksan ang aking puso upang papasukin ka, nguni’t kailangan ko ring ipagsanggalan ang takot sa iyong pagiging Anitera, sa iyong pagkadaop sa iyong inang buwan.
Kinakailangan kong gawin ito. Kinakailangan kong ilagay ang singsing sa iyong daliri, ang natitirang alaala ng isang kadena.
Kailangang pahupain ang iyong pagkababae ng kasal.
KORO
Shhhhhh…
Makinig! Mga nababanaagan ng karit na buwan… Makinig.
May alimpuyo na sumasabay sa salimbay ng dilim.
Shhhhhh…
Magaganap ang tagba ng karit na buwan. Makinig…
(sabay-sabay na titingin kay Mara.)
MARA
Isa akong Anitera Rodel, hindi mo ba nakikita? Lahat ng babae ay Anitera.
Kailangan pa ba nating ipagpatuloy ang kasal? Ang singsing ay alaala ng isang kadena.
Ngunit mahal kita. Mahal kita ng lubusan.
Hindi ka na muling sasaktan ng Babae, mahal ko. Magpapakasal ang Anitera.
KORO
Shhhhh…
May sinasabi ang gabi.
Shhhhh…
Makinig.
(lahat ay titingin sa karit na buwan)
KORO
Hindi sila umiiwas,
May kakaibang pag-unawa sila
Sa ginagawang tagba.
- bababa ang telon –
WAKAS
