Saving Fish From Drowning
Some of my choices were made for me.
Some times, I am thankful. Other times, I struggle with feelings of resentment. The unwavering, hovering influence, decision-maker-cum-ones-who-always-want-to-have-the-last-words-in: the parents, a lover, relatives, friends.
All good meaning. All who think they are better, that they know better.
Illimitable
We were in highschool and sitting in the girls’ quadrangle talking about everything and nothing, and my bestfriend, the smartest in the batch, blurted out those words out of the blue. I looked into her eyes and saw only sincerity.
I furrowed my brows and wondered way into the night about those words. She believed.
A thought: maybe I could believe too.
Loving Mother Nature
Circa 1980’s.
We would wait patiently by the side of the road in front of our house for a faint cry: Dyaryoooo! Boteeee! (newspaaaaaaper, booooottles) And when we hear it, we would rush to our house, get all the old newspapers, put them in a stack, get our hands on old glass and plastic bottles – of fish sauce, vinegar, shampoo, softdrinks – and wait for a vision of an old scruffy man pushing a kariton (pushcart). He would waive to us and soon as he is “parked”, we would help him haul the newspapers to his weighing scale. He would then count the bottles, do some math in his head, give us some money (a few cents, some paper) and he would go his merry way. We would waive to mom (asking her for permission but vaguely so she could not say no) and go our merry way too – to the store where we would buy candies and ice-cold soda with the bounty. Such was the life.
Going the Extra Mile
It could be an exam that you waited for 4 years, 5, 10, 20 years, to take – the bar exam, accountancy, architecture, nursing, engineering, med, teacher’s licensure exam… It could be a job interview to where you want to work for a hundred years… It could be the olympics or a boxing bout or a title that you want to take away from someone, like maybe a beauty contest, or a book that you have always wanted to write… It could be a recital or a marriage proposal…
The single defining moment of your life.
You could be mediocre. You could be winner.
I first heard the word “mediocre” from my teacher in Broadcasting 101. She made it sound like it is something we should not desire. That “just getting by” is the loser’s mantra and that we are not that.
Christmas in the Air
It is majestic, tall, towering. The green leaves are lost in the reds and golds and in the crystals and the globes and red-golden ribbons and a hundreds, maybe thousands, of twinkling lights. I could almost feel Christmas-y at the sight of this tree, my ears peaking at the sound of the soft strains of – aaahh, Christmas music. At the crown are a thousand shimmering cascades of red stars beckoning all to come and see.
A seemingly farcical treat to this Christmas that promises to be different from all the rest.
A different Christmas.
Embracing Life
So I did. And I remembered.
My husband saved my life.
I am not speaking metaphorically (but I think I could very well be).
Burning the Midnight Oil
I have to breathe and close my eyes, take my time before this means something to me. I have always been made to believe, I have always thought, that education is very, very important.
As a matter of fact, a lot of poor parents put this on top of their agenda. They can be overheard telling their children: “Your education is the only inheritance that we can give to you.” The unspoken plea: please graduate and take us out of this pitiable, desolate, godforsaken place. So they sell their only cow, the grains, their time, sometimes their souls, just so their children can go to school.
But there is Bill Gates.
Mesmerize
I did not.
And I looked at those people with awe. It seemed to be the right way to be and so when I was a child I had to force myself to choose to be something (newscaster), not knowing that life can take me to different, more exciting destinations and that it is okay and that it is possible to be many things.
But just between the two of us, asking a child to be what he wants to be – I think this is a dangerous question. It is okay when he knows what he wants with certainty (which is more the exception than the rule because a child would have limited experiences and so would have limited choices) but it is not okay when it fosters doubt in a child (do I know what I want to be? why don’t I know what I want to be? is there something wrong with me?) or gives power to the parents who force the child to fill his head with what they want (many sad stories here).