About the cover We live in a time where most mouths move but minds slumber. Those whose works are printed in this folio are those whose minds shelter storms of emotion and ideals, shutting out the bustle of the world with their thoughts. Silence is the shell in which inside brews storm clouds that rain colors upon a dull and colorless land, whose people are over-encumbered by life’s daily struggles. In the absence of the senseless noise of modern life and isolation from the sounds of a toiling world, our minds light up and continue to fight the darkness that blinds most of us.
ELLIPSIS ELLIPSIS is the gathering of ideas diverging from the unique experiences of artistic individuals whose aim is to provoke thought or draw attention to certain realities of life. Like the punctuation, ELLIPSIS leaves a trail of thought to be picked up by its readers and be carried forward so the ideals of its authors may be preserved for the use of future generations. Copyright Š2017 All rights reserved. No part of this literary folio may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the permission from the publisher. The copyright of the works printed here remain with the respective authors. For comments and suggestions, kindly visit T.I.P. Voice Manila office, Ground floor, Bldg. 3, P. Casal campus, Quiapo, Manila, tipvoicemanila1980@gmail.com Cover by: Justine A. Jugueta
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ELLIPSIS
The Official School and Student Publication of T.I.P. Manila
EDITORIAL BOARD
Editor-in-Chief Shiela Marie M. Rentuza Managing Editor Rudolfo Javier C. Agustin Associate Editor Troy B. Balbestamin
EDITORIAL STAFF
News Editor Joshua V. Moraga Sports Editor Charles John C. Leonardo Features Editor John Mark E. Zarate Literary Editor Kriselle Ann P. Marquez Photography Editor Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman Circulations Manager Jonel A. Felizario Head Artist Dominic Vincent L. Ver Chief Layout Artist Ran Jared P. Villanueva
SUPPORT STAFF Writers John Philip R. Ayo, Jean Benedeo N. Derez, Khryztina R. Roa
Photojournalists Kaye Ann P. Bernal, Samantha Joy B. Biong, Jeannine Kate L. Estrabo, Lady Claudette H. Ferrer, Princess Rolyn R. Talento Layout Artists Aldrin Marlo B. Cruz, Daniel M. Fiedacan Jr. Illustrator Daniel H. Encinas, Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus, Ivan Radzll M. Montealegre
TRAINEES Writers Gilbeys Jones G. Garing, Kathleen Arl R. Lubina Photojournalists Jeffrey R. Baculot, Sean Daniel A. Barranco, Steven T. Lim Margie Mae B. Pasagui, Wilfred Jhon A. Tulay Layout Artists John Jeremy S. Brotamonte, Wrald Bastille G. Geronimo, Christopher L. Magsumbol, Nicole D. Vergara, Marvy A. Zarate ASSISTANT ADVISER Marco Antonio T. Subion ADVISER Marlon A. De Luna ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICER AND CONSULTANT VP for Finance and Administration Ms. Alicia V. Napud
It’s in the solitary place where silence is much appreciated; where a solemn atmosphere is the audience; where the deepest thoughts of the hearts outcry the unfathomable principles of the world; and it’s where an unbearable selfreflection defy the truths of the inner soul. As we are commissioned to give the T.I.P. community something pleasurable to read, the T.I.P. Voice Manila has once again created it very own Literary folio – the Ellipsis. Our service of forbearing the readers from the annoying noise around inhabits every mind to become a wholesome individual. And so our principle to tame commotion into a quiet sanctuary made us witnesses to define the realms of life. Enter the quietest room of your heart. Uncover your ears to hear the voice of every phrase. Unblock the lenses of your eyes to see real depictions. Untie the ropes that prevent the flow of every curve. Then bravely come to realize that every plea is your own story.
kriselle l i t Anne e r a r y Marquez e d i t o r
Shiela e d i t o r Marie in Rentuza c h i e f S .Y. 2 0 1 5 - 2 0 1 6
To our readers, Change has evidently been on the rise. People in this millenial era have their own unique ways of expressing themselves, especially their emotions, point of views and lifestyles. And yet, given the pleasant scenario of modern change, more exciting events are bound to happen, so, millenials act decisively to easily adopt to changes. The official literary folio of T.I.P. Voice Manila, known as Ellipsis, envisions… “to record the beliefs, hope, inspiration, dreams, suffering, defeat, victory, and faith of the T.I.P. community.” As advocates of its vision, we offer to you the fourth sequel of Ellipsis with the different contributions from the T.I.P. community such as Literary pieces, Photography, and Artworks. We exercise our flexibility to variations, as well our adaptability to other changes in the future, for a much harmonious collaboration between the publication and the T.I.P.ians. Ellipsis…the stories behind silence is presented for all the readers to have time to listen to themselves, to the people around them, and to their surroundings; to pursue their dreams; and to overcome their fears in life. Feel the passion of every author at the very heart of their endeavors in this literary folio. Through this creation, we strive to help everyone awaken their desire – to write stories, to capture photographs, and to create artworks. We also want them to exhibit their potential masterpieces with this compilation as their reference as we uncover the concealed flairs of T.I.P.ians to flaunt their crafts. Amid the enhancements made in education sector of our country, I believe we should not forget this: Literary concept starts long before it becomes known, before kings and queens rule the land or before heroes start the reform. Silence has so many untold stories awaiting to unfold; The tale continuous along with the existence of Ellipsis…
TABLE OF
CONTENTS TULA
SANAYSAY
Puti sa putik 10 Sa pagbaba ng telon 11 Para kay Kristina 24 Walang Pamagat 25 Dalaw 27 Benggansa 29 Bilin ni Inay 65 Latak 78 Palad at Talampakan 80 Nais 87 Halakhakan at Kadiliman 89
Ang kapangyarihan ng aking panulat 79
MAIKLING KWENTO Layaw 20 Dugo sa Sandata 42 Ngiti ni Luwalhati 59 Sa Likod ng mga Lente 76
ESSAY
POEM
The Jack of no Trades 26 In a flutter of butterfly’s wings 48 Slope 84
Swerving Tales 12 Antithesis 23 A classical euphony 28 Curse of the silent 30 The Unseen Reality 31 Tongue as a helm 36 Beautiful nightmare 37 Broken possessions 38 The Proud 47 To my last visit 52 Heaven’s Heel 53 Timebomb 63 Street Child 64 Virtual Reality 67 Thirst for Pleasure 68 Afterlife 81 Fire and Furnace 86 Stigma 88 Blessing to God 91 I was 92 Masquerade 93
SHORT STORY Secrets behind the wake 14 A mother’s love 35 Game of deceit 46 In the heap of garbage finding a home 54 Beyond Creation 69 The Fingernail 98
PLAY Sulat-kamay ni Allen 39 Symphony of the Kumintang 61
Puti sa putik Ni Vanessa Faye E. Matoto
Tila isang bulaklak sa hardin, Ganda niya’y kapansin-pansin. Kaloobang yari sa purong ginto, nabuyo sa isang mapaglarong mundo. Kasinglaya ng mga ibon sa langit, Singlambing ng mga prinsesang maririkit. Binibining nasilayan ng mundo, ngunit ganda’y nahulog sa isang silo. Bawat haplos tiniis nang makakain. Ang liwanag ay nagdilim sa magandang bituin. Nagsisi. Tumangis. Napiit. Matamis na ngiti’y naging mapait.
10|Ellipsis
Sa pagbaba ng telon Ni Hera Mia B. Valdez
Unti-unting dumarami ang mga tao, Mga nais makasaksi ng naiibang tagpo. Kumuha ng kani-kaniyang pwesto, Habang ako’y nag-iipon ng buwelo.
Sa entablado nakapako ang kanilang mga mata, Dumaragdag sa nag-uumapaw kong kaba. Mamamalas na nila ang isa sa aking katha, Haharap sa kanila suot ang isang mascara.
Ngiti at palakpakan sa akin ay sumalubong, Tanda ng kawalang malay sa aking patibong. Panaka-naka’y nagkokomento sa natatangi kong galing. Isang tulad ko ang tugon sa kanilang mga hiling.
Kumagat na ang dilim; bumaba na ang telon. Wari’y itinatago ang anumang katotohanang naroon. Ngunit tumatak na sa kanilang kamalayan, Ang pagkukunwari ng isang pangahas.
Ellipsis|11
Swerving Tales By Markz
O hail! The kings of the road, Through their trips were stories untold. High as the crude price, a boundary to seek, Halted by accidents -- must escape real quick. Drops of sweat paid with commuter’s fare. But not all did the same, eluding like no one cared. Embraced by the smoke, alas! The tires burst and broke. Returning supposed labor’s fruit, diced by joke.
Upon the roadblocks, they lost much time. The journey cut to earn more dimes. During floods, wheels submerge to cross waters. Trapped in the mud, it won’t even matter. At times, the money was inch close to boundary, Snivel! Here comes robbery, Losing all the day work’s savings Leaving these men continue land sailings.
12|Ellipsis
Hopes of the old times Chris Chua
Secrets behind the wake By John Mark E. Zarate
Death is a natural thing among people. One day when you sleep, you’ll never know whether you’ll wake up or not. Every night, I take a jeepney home and it passes in the corner of 2nd and 3rd Avenue. Glimmering lights are patterned by the flowers placed in side of the coffin. Tables are filled with cards, money, and liquors. The people around were by-standers and veteran gamblers. But one thing bothers me, the wake scenery each time I see that place seemed to never cease. There were different people gathering on the same spot, their faces somewhat familiar. They were too absorbed pushing their luck by gambling at the burial. Years after I graduated it is my first time to set foot in the place, I get off the jeepney and paced towards the newly laid coffin. Eyes of the by-standers gazed at me. “Condolence...” I approached the crying woman. “Uhm, when will be the burial?” No one replied. In my head, the wake seemed to be overdue and those crying people were just paid. Few steps away, there were three people chatting. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop yet the topic was disturbing. “What we will no next? The dead will be consumed any moment by the Ebwa,” the stout man said “I think we should find another body or else, he will give trouble in our place,” a by-stander replied. “What time will he arrive? I must go and get a new one or we will lose our source of income,” the bearded man suggested. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice a car was about to approach. It blew its horn because I was blocking the road. Ebwa? A corpse eater in this place? Does it even exist? I headed back home, I put the television on and directed it to a news program. “Breaking news! A corpse was stolen during its wake in Caloocan. Relatives of the dead were not abe to seize the robber,” the newscaster said. “Odd news…how can the relatives not caught the robber?” Another night, a new picture was in the coffin. I went on the same venue and looked on the coffin but it was closed. I turned around, they are still the same people. “Who are you? What are you doing here? You are not one of my relatives,” the stout man approached with numerous queries.
14|Ellipsis
“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just visiting the dead. Condolences.” A few blocks before I reached my house, three people seem to be following my trail. Their shadows are obvious and visible enough through my peripheral vision. I hastened my pace but they were still tailing me. Knowing the shortcut and alleys on my way home, these stalkers were not able to chase me again. A few blocks before I reached my house, three people seem to be following my trail. Their shadows are obvious and visible enough through my peripheral vision. I hastened my pace but they were still tailing me. Knowing the shortcut and alleys on my way home, these stalkers were not able to chase me again. Before I went to sleep, I called my friend, Rodrigo, who was a police. Rodrigo believed that were still enchanters present in the city. “Hello, this is Mac. May I speak to Rodrigo?” “Speaking. What can I do for you my friend?” “Did you remember the spot I am referring yesterday? Something unusual is happening there. I didn’t to eavesdrop but people discussed about an Ebwa? “Are you sure of that? You should have definite evidence before accusing them.” “Isn’t it obvious those corpses didn’t leave that spot? We hope that it is coincidence but it is just too much. And by the way, I need protection; three people were stalking me this evening.” “That I can help you with…but about the other case, I doubt it.” “Ok, but don’t tell me that I didn’t inform you about it.” On the next night, I have become used to having stalkers near me though I did not return to the wake. I feel safe because of the bodyguards lurking in the shadows. Unfortunately, when I got home, stalkers were present at the gate. To escape from them, I simply walked away from them but they launched themselves towards me and I can’t let go of their grip. . The police were few meters away from me because they only guarded the roads I take instead of my house. I lost my consciousness after I was covered with handkerchief with faint-smelling chemical from my back. When I woke up, the space was too narrow for me. My clothes were changed into a used barong Tagalog, I was tied and as I looked up, a glass window was on my sight. I’m still alive but I was placed inside what is seems to be a coffin I’m done for…A corpse eater will be the end of me. This can be happening. I tried to release myself from the ropes but it was too late. The consumer was almost there. He opened the case and carried me out from the wooden box. The pungent stench of devoured flesh wafted from its body. I thought it was the end for me until I heard gunshots from behind which caught its attention. He threw me onto the concrete floor. I looked to the direction where the bullets were fired and saw Rodrigo and his comrades. The place was surrounded by policeman together with their automobiles. This was a silent raid; commandos in their silencers prevent the disturbance and panic from the sleeping residents. The Ebwa turned its back from me. Rodrigo rushed to me loosened the ropes and handed me a sharpened wood. The creature was still distracted as its thick decayed body absorbed the ammunitions launched to him. I tried to get up on his feet using the oak’s pointed edge as his support. I closely aim at the enchanter’s back close to its heart. Gaining enough strength to stand, he pushed himself towards the Ebwa’s weak point. The corpse eater reacted swung its arm to me after it sensed a human toward him. Like a puppet out his puppeteer’s control, I was flung to the coffin and destroyed its stands. However, the onslaught strength of the Ebwa started to weaken until it faced the ground and disappeared. That night, the people inside the area were invited to the police department to explain their participation on the frequent wake and kidnapping of Mac. The identified kidnappers were jailed while the residents refrained from communicating with enchanters for their source of income. They also began to respect the deceased people whether relatives or not. Mac rested in the nearest hospital after suffering injuries in his arms and back. Rodrigo advised him to transfer to a new house far away from his stalkers. He promised never to do the same mistake about his curiosity which led him to his near death.
Ellipsis|15
Skies are the witnesses how dreams are built Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman
Arkitorture
Dominic Vincent L. Ver
Pointless
Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus
Perfect and vulnerable Steven T. Lim
Layaw Ni Vanessa Faye E. Matoto
“Anak, mag-aral ka ng mabuti upang maabot mo ang iyong pangarap na magkaroon ng magandang buhay. Huwag ka sanang gumawa ng mga bagay na alam mong makasasama sa iyo…” *** “Tara, shot? Dali na,” tanong ng aking kaibigan na ako na lamang ang hinihintay. “Oo ba. Basta libre mo ah,” ang pagbiro ko namang sagot. Madalas kaming tumambay sa bahay nila at wala kaming ibang ginawa kundi uminom, magbiruan, at maglaro ng dota. Sa tingin ko nga ay parang dito lang ako nakakaramdam ng ibang kasiyahan. Isang araw nga ay bigla kong naisip na tumira na lamang sa bahay ng kaibigan ko at sila nalang ang ituring kong pamilya. Sa bahay kasi, puro utos ang natatanggap ko at halos hindi na tumigil ang bibig ni mama sa kakasalita. Siguro kung nagkataon, ibang kaligayahan ang masisilayan ng mga tao sa aking mukha. Pagkatapos ng aming pinagsaluhang kasiyahan, umuwi ako ng bahay na umaasang makararating sa aking silid na walang natatanggap na sermon. Nang bigla akong nakaramdam ng isang hawak ng kamay sa aking braso – si Mama, hinawakan niya ang braso ko at mahinahong nagsalita. 20|Ellipsis
“Anak, mag-aral ka ng mabuti upang maabot mo ang iyong pangarap na magkaroon ng magandang buhay. Huwag ka sanang gumawa ng mga bagay na alam mong makasasama sa iyo,” “Alam ko Ma. Sige na, matutulog na ko.” ang pabalang ko namang tugon. Pagkatapos kausapin si Mama, agad akong dumeretso sa kwarto para magpahinga. Hindi naging maganda ang sagot ko sa kanya, pero alam ko naman na maiintindihan niya ko tulad ng lagi niyang ginagawa. Sumunod na araw, habang humihithit ako ng sigarilyo, biglang tumawag ang isa sa mga matalik kong kaibigan. “Pre, tara punta ka dito sa condo ni Ben! Nagpapakasaya kami dito. Tas’ ang dami pang babae. Ayos!” “O? Sige. Antayin niyo ako diyan.” Sa sobrang pananabik, agad akong tumakbo sa loob ng bahay para mag-ayos. Nang biglang dumating si Papa na bakas sa mukha ang pagka-inis. “Walang aalis! Matuto kang pumirmi sa loob ng bahay.” “Ano? Hindi pwede! Party ‘yun ng kaibigan ko. Kailangan kong pumunta!” Sa lubos na pagkagalit ay bigla na lamang akong sinuntok ni Papa at sinigawan. “Lumaki ka lang tumigas na ulo mo! Natuto ka na ring sumagot. Lumayas ka dito! Kunin mo na lahat ng gamit mo at huwag ka nang magpapakita sakin!” Lumabas ako ng bahay ng walang bitbit na gamit kundi ang natitira ko pang pera. Wala na akong nagawa sa buhos ng galit ni Papa kanina, at inis na ang bumabalot sa akin ngayon. Hahayaan ko na lamang sana ang sarili ko na mapadpad sa kung saan man dulot ng sobrang pagkainis ngunit bigla kong naalala ang dapat kong puntahan. Dali-dali kong tinawagan ang aking kaibigan upang alamin ang daan patungo sa condo ni Ben. “Buti naman at nakarating ka. Kanina ka pa namin hinihintay,” pagsalubong na sambit ni Ben. “Nagkaproblema sa bahay, pasensya. Tsk. Tara na nga! Uminom nalang tayo,” naiinis ko namang sabi. Naging masaya ang gabing iyon para sa akin. Nagawa kong kalimutan ang mga problema ko kahit panandalian lamang. Natapos ang gabi nang may bahid ng lubos na kasiyahan, ngunit hindi pa rin nawawala sa akin ang pag-iisip sa nangyari kanina. Dulot ng sobrang kalasingan, hindi na ako masyadong makakilos ng maayos kaya’t nakitulog nalang muna ako. *** “Ginoong Reyes! Alam mo ba kung gaano kababa ang mga grado mo?” sigaw ng aking guro. Tila wala pa ako sa tamang lagay ngayon dahil sa party kagabi kaya’t hindi ko masyadong napansin ang tanong niya. “Ikaw talagang bata ka! Lunod ka ata sa alak kagabi, ano? Masama iyan para sa iyo, Diyos ko! Tigilan mo iyan hangga’t maaga pa. At ayusin mo itong mga grado mo!” dugtong na sabi niya sa akin. Pagkatapos ng klase ay agad kong nilapitan ang mga kaibigan ko upang makibalita sa plano nila mamayang hapon. “Lakad pre? Wala eh. Hindi muna kami aalis mamaya.” “Ganun ba? O Sige. Ingat kayo.” Nakakapagtakang isipin na hindi aalis ang mga kabarkada ko mamaya. May problema kaya sila? O baka naman may gagawin lang? Sa halip na ipagpatuloy ang pagtataka ay Ellipsis|21
minabuti ko na lamang umuwi sa condo ni Ben at magpahinga. Dumaan pa ang mga araw at naging madalas ang aking pag-iisa. Lubos akong nagtataka kung bakit laging ganito ang sitwasyon ko, hindi ako sanay na hindi sila kasama. Wala na rin akong pera pang-load kaya’t hindi ko sila matawagan para makausap man lang. Tapos na ang napag-usapang araw kung hanggang kailan lamang ako pwede makituloy kanila Ben. Ngayong gabi, sinubukan ko namang pumunta sa bahay ng isa ko pang kaibigan – si Ryan, upang doon naman subukang makituloy. Sa aking paglalakad, tila isang napakalaking bato ang nahulog sa akin ng makita ko ang mga kaibigan ko na nagkakasiyahan sa lugar nila Ryan. Bakit hindi nila ako niyaya? Ano bang problema? May nagawa ba ako? Lalapitan ko sana sila nang bigla akong may narinig na nagsambit. “Ang saya kapag tayo-tayo lang no? ‘Yung wala si Boy Reyes. Walang epal,” sambit ng isa ko pang kaibigan. Sinuportahan naman nila ito ng malakas na tawanan. Wala akong nagawa kundi ang mainis dahil hindi ko naman sila magawang lapitan at sagutin. At isa pa, ayoko ng away. Umalis na ako sa lugar na iyon at naglakad lakad. Bahala na kung saan ko palilipasin ang gabi. Kung saan-saan ako naglakad, naghahanap ng bubong na masisilungan kung saan ako pwedeng magpalipas ng gabi. Sa gitna ng aking paghahanap, napansin ko na ilang hakbang nalang ako patungo sa bahay namin. Heto na siguro ang tamang oras upang bumalik ako sa amin at ipakita kanila Mama na nagkamali nga ako, sa pagaakalang kaibigan ko ang aking masasandalan. Sumilip ako sa bintana at doon ko napansin si Mama na malungkot, at tila nag-aalala. Gayon din si Papa na nakaupo sa sulok habang naninigarilyo, hindi maipinta ang kanilang mga mukha. Naglakas-loob akong kumatok sa pinto at naramdaman ko ang mabilis na pagtayo ni Mama upang buksan ito. “Anak!” sabay yakap ng mahigpit. “Mabuti at umuwi ka, salamat sa Diyos.” Hindi man ipinakita ang pananabik, agad din naman akong nilapitan ni Papa para yakapin. “Mag-ayos ka na, at ang dungis mo. Kumain ka na rin doon. May binili akong ulam.” Lumabas muna si Itay upang ayusin ang mga gamit sa labas. Bigla akong nanlambot; nakaramdam ako ng pagsisisi kasabay ang konsensya at pagmamahal sa magulang ko. “Kamusta ka naman iho? Bakit hindi ka man lang nagparamdam sa amin noong mga nakaraang araw? Kumakain ka ba ng maayos? Saan ka natulog?” pag-aalalang tanong ni mama. “Ang hirap pala kapag wala kayo Ma. Ang hirap pala kapag laging nakaasa sa mga kaibigan. Darating talaga ang araw na iiwanan ka rin nila,” mahina kong sagot. “Naiintindihan naman kita anak, natural lang sa edad mo ang makaranas ng ganyan. Pero lagi mong tatandaan, ano pa man ang mangyari, pamilya tayo, magulang mo kami, ang tangi mong masasandalan kapag may problema ka. Hindi namin hahayaang masaktan ka at mapariwara ang buhay. Hindi pa huli ang lahat, bumangon ka at mag-aral muli. Nananabik na akong pumanhik sa entablado para sabitan ka ng medalya, ” malambing na sambit sa akin ni Mama. Nagpatuloy ako sa pag-aaral at ilang buwan nalang ay magtatapos na ako sa hayskul. Gusto kong maging engineer, kaya’t pinagbubuti ko ang aking pag-aaral at nangangarap na matupad ang aking mga mithiin sa buhay. 22|Ellipsis
Antithesis By Mark Leonard B. Feliciano and Khryztina R. Roa
I. I am a wimp, a generic screw upA hypermanic tightrope tragedy; A drifter who drinks from a broken cup Filled with tears then calls it “poetry” She, on the other hand, is a goddess The starlight-kissed princess who rendered my pen And my coffee-stained metaphors helpless To heart fluctuations- how did it happen That when I look beneath her piercing eyes I see dim fragments of eternity, Taking my soul, leaving me mesmerizedtantalized. Is this my new reality? Yet, am I still the wimp I used to be? Curse metaphysics; curse identities.
II. As my naked black eyes laid upon him I saw a thorough opposite of me. A wimp man, who brought the gutsy a whim Answer me, why I’ve turned to a wimpy? I am an intrepid climbing on his thread, and yearns for the nectar of piquancy. I weave my pen in metaphors it bled as your mellifluous words at frequency. Queries had struck and embraced me. Have I been losing my track, Shoot! Stumbling for a zesty sentiment? Would you hold my hand and look back? Alas! The proud has descended from her throne Caught off guard as you trespassed my zone. Ellipsis|23
Para kay Kristina Ni ML Feliciano
Alam kong alam mo na hindi lahat ng metapora ay sulat-kamay ng mga makatang nilasing ng mga paraluman sa pag-ibig. At oo, tulad nila, ako ay lasing din; natulala sa hiwaga. lutang sa karagatan ng talinhaga pagkatapos kong malunod sa kalaliman mo. Hindi ko lubusang mawari kung bakit nga ba ako uminom sa tasa mo. Ang tanging natatandaan ko ay sumabay ang pagbuhos ng diwa ko sa pagdaloy mo sa tuyong ako. Sabihin mo. Alin bang kumpol ng titik ang hihigit sa pagnanasang kayang dumaig sa daigdig? Wala. Walang salita ang tutumbas sa pagragasa ng aking kaibuturan. Pinipi mo ako sa tatlong kataga, sa titig ng dalawang maalab na mata, at sa isang paanyaya. May hangganan ang salita, Kristina. May hangganan ang salita.
24|Ellipsis
Walang Pamagat Ni K hryztina R. Roa
Ako’y makatang sumusulat ng tula, upang ipabatid sa’king sinisinta– lihim na pagtanging ukol lang sa kanya; Hindi namalayang sumisibol na pala. Kanyang mga ngiti’y singtamis ng kendi, Mapupungay na matang kulay tsokolate. halakhak na tila isang musika, kaysarap pakinggan ang bawat nota. Kanyang titig na matiim dulot ng di pagkurap, sa tuwing siya ay nakakausap. Sa kanyang presensyang dulot ay alapaap. Tibok ng puso di maapuhap. Hindi ko alam kung saan ba nahugot, mga salitang matagal nang may lumot. Akala ay di na muling magagamit pa, mga talinhaga at letrang nananahan na. Ngiti sa mga labi’y namumutawi, dulot ng kasiyahang dati’y pighati. Nagbigay ng kulay sa aking mundo, ang taong magbibigay titulo nito.
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The Jack of “No” Trades By Troy B. Balbestamin When someone is sick and dying, we call the doctor. If we seek justice, we call a lawyer. When our motherland is threatened, we summon the soldiers. When we want to eat scrumptious food, we ask chefs to cook for us. What if they all disappeared? Don’t worry for there is someone who can save the day for us - the Jack of All Trades. Anyway, what really makes the Jack of All Trades? Is Jack cunning, charming, and flexible? Jack must be good at everything; arts, sciences, physique, social aspects; maybe there is nothing he can’t do. Maybe he can eat swords, catch flies with his bare hands, count the stars in a clear night sky, and crack open a coconut with his bare teeth. But he can never be a master at anything. I once believed I can be like Jack but I was wrong. Every time I meet setbacks in life, people have always told me not to despair for there are certainly things I can do that others cannot. From then, I believed that everyone was born with unique talents, but my experiences proved me wrong. Someone was always better. Someone will always remind us that we are not the best. You could be considered the best yesterday but tomorrow you won’t be anymore. The “Jack of All Trades” you thought you are starts to turn into a “Jack of No Trades.” We become shackled by frustration after seeing the people around us excel at almost everything they do. For us, it’s just bizarre how these people achieve such things and not show any weakness. Everyone already had this feeling. The feeling of inferiority after repeatedly being beaten and shamed in the merciless race of life makes us abandon our dreams. There even comes a time that we concede and declare ourselves as failures. We feel so downtrodden as our frustration becomes depression. However, we fail to consider something. The Jack of All Trades is not far different from us. He hurts, despairs, and fails too. I am not going to use the metaphor that emotions emanate from the heart because it’s starting to sound foolish to me. Emotions are the mind’s manifestation. Jack may be good at everything but when he is emotionally weak, he’s as useless as an inkless pen. What I’m trying to say is that our capabilities and talents are influenced by what we feel. Chances of succeeding are high when you’re passionate on what you do. Jack is good at everything but he is not perfect. He commits mistakes. But when Jack is festive and emotionally stable, it will fuel his desire to soar high against all odds. Always keep track of your emotional state. Don’t conceal your emotions and stop lying to yourself. You are a human, subject to flaws, but don’t forget that you’re the smartest being on Earth. I’m not telling you to burst out curses whenever you’re mad, I want you to admit that you are angry because suppressing it is insidious. If you’re a man, don’t feel ashamed to shed tears. Crying proves that you are still human. Amidst the immorality you’ve seen, amidst all the injustice you’ve been through, amidst all the lies you have heard, your mind is not yet broken. There is no Jack of No Trades, only a broken Jack. Failure is constant. Failure is essential for us to learn. As long as we fail, we will keep on learning. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself emotionally because when you are shrouded with negative thoughts, you are more likely to give up easily. On the other hand, if you pour in positive emotions to yourself, you will have enormous strength and courage against all adversities. With a mind full of happiness, compassion, perseverance, and focus, you can conquer yourselves and be the Jack of All Trades.
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Dalaw Ni Blared Virago
Mga butil ng luha’y tuloy-tuloy na pumapatak, Kasabay ng ulan sa yero’y bumabagsak. Nakayukod, ang mukha’y pilit ikinukubli. Sa mga payat na bisig niyakap ang sarili. Panahon na sinayang ay pinagsisisihan. Mula nang magkamuwang, siya’y tinalikdan. Oras at pansin ibinigay sa barkada, di na pansin ang taong nag-aruga. Maamo niyang pigura’y nasilayan, umasa na muli pang mahagkan. Nais ipadama, pag-ibig sa’king lolo ngunit huli na, siya’y biglang naglaho.
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A classical euphony By Coleen E. Navarro and Rudolfo C. Agustin
Harmonious prelude beats blunt, lightly whistling a dulcet chant. Delightful melody around, calmly falling as tears profound. Ceaseless paints of joys and sorrows, transient blend of tone in meadows. Serenading a monstrous love; blared recognition from above. A silent cadence in autumn, quivered chimes of zest at blossom. Arduous portrayal outwit, soul of piece remained unlit. Hurried rhythms of tendency, contingence of great rhapsody. Descend as to great hiatus; lamenting with splendid flatus.
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Benggansa Ni Markz
Lumipas na ang oras ng paghahari, ng kabesang puno ng paimbabaw na ngiti. Tatlong dekada marami sa kanya’y pumili. Maraming sanga ang hindi na mabali. Anino ako sa lilim ng iyong mga simula, ngunit mga pangako mo’y naging mga bula. Bingi sa mga paulit-ulit na paalala, natapos ang lahat sa alingawngaw ng bala. Bagong simula ang sisikat! Pikit na mga mata ang didilat. Sinimulan na ang paglinis ng kalat, panibagong pahina na ang isusulat
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Curse of the silent By Death Knight
Hearts pass one another, yet oblivious to each other. Confess everything – easy to say but difficult to do. In your presence, my wits are torn asunder. Alas! What came to me is beyond everything I knew. Just between the lines – waiting for the right time. But still, my voice gets lost when I am with you. Ah! If only I could stop myself from being sublime, Feel the tempest of my feelings, Just like how the wind blows through the chime. No matter how I try, my lips fail to sing – This strange, incomprehensible, pleasant feeling.
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The Unseen Reality
By Troy B. Balbestamin and Denise Ma.Chello D. Pacia
Skyscrapers cloak them in shadows. Roaring engines dull their sorrows. The city lights blinded our eyes, In the streets, the reality lies. The youth are forced to do labor. The joy of play, they won’t savor. Our elders: forgotten, it seems. Survival had replaced their dreams. Treading through crowded roads. With three-wheelers to lift their loads. In goods and scrap they’ve found a living. Day by day, their hopes are dying. In our eyes, they can’t be trusted. They’re culprits while we’re wounded. When in truth, they’re victims themselves. We are giants and they’re just elves.
Equality now a fading light. The truth lost in the coming night. Our sights are closed within our concerns, We embrace the unjust patterns. Hailed as The Land of the Promise, when will we ever leave this demise? The sun is already setting, Are you ready to see the ending?
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Hindered in despair Ivan Radzll M. Montealegre
Left behind
Jeannine Kate L. Estrabo
Torn Off
Ivan Radzll M. Montealegre
A mother’s love By Joshua V. Moraga
Having no regrets, I was determined to change everything. Leaving her and all the memories, and friends behind. As the first step landed, so did my tears. *** 1918, four years had passed since the war started. Life was hard ever since the Great War sparked. And for a farmer like me, it was even harder. Every night, British troops rush throughout the fields checking for enemies trying to pass the border. Sometimes, Maria and I are awakened by the banging of the doors by the soldiers asking if Germans are hiding inside. Of course, there aren’t but these Brits are a persistent bunch. They always do a search around the house, checking every corner. A lot of things had happened during the last four years here in Picardy. Eventually, we got used to the ruckus of the war. The sound of the trucks travelling the land became my lullaby. During attacks, this house becomes the best shelter there is, because the two of us are the only people living in this area. Still, we couldn’t say it was safe even if the attacks weren’t so frequent here. Many German troops use this field as a shortcut. So by nightfall, I can see the grass swaying even if there is no wind. “When will we visit mom?” Maria asked me as I was checking our supplies and delivery schedule. She kept bugging me again and again. “After I’m done with this, we will leave okay?” I replied. While finishing my paper works, I called Maria out, “Are you ready yet? “Yes, I’m ready,” she replied. It was almost dark, but this day was important for both of us so we still pressed on since the place was not that far. On the way home, I noticed a distant glow in the sky. It was unusual because it’s already nighttime yet an orange light made the sky look as if the sun was just about to set. Then, I quickly grabbed Maria and dashed through the dirt road. Oh no! my worst fear came true, the house is on fire. But without even thinking, I rushed inside the inferno. Maria was dumbfounded by the sight of the place that held her childhood memories burning to the ground. “Daddy! Where are you?!” she repeatedly called out. After a few minutes, I came out holding my daughter’s gift from her mommy - a teddy bear. “Here you go,” Tears flowed unto Maria’s cheeks upon the sight of the stuffed toy. “Don’t worry, we can rebuild everything. It’ll be fine. But that gift from your mother is irreplaceable, so we must take care of it, okay?” I comforted her. Morning came and only ashes remained of what used to be a home. We decided to visit my brother living north of our house. As for Maria, she was doing just fine. I told Maria that it is a good thing we visited her mother’s grave? Or else, we could have died in that fire. She nodded and said, “It was mommy. She knew what was about to happen, so she called us.” I was happy even though I had lost almost everything. “Let’s get going,” I said. Having no regrets, we were determined to change everything. Leaving her and all the memories, and friends behind. As my first step landed, so did my tears. “Don’t cry, you still have me daddy,” Maria comforted me as she wiped my tears. I grabbed her hand tightly and walked again looking forward to our new life ahead.
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Tongue as a helm By Kriselle Ann P. Marquez
A single word to share might be a golden gift to bear. But the tongue’s deliverance of supplement One may not know the battle of the other can drive a bunch of discouragement. and what he says may last forever. On a careless utterance, Humans are passersby along the shore, depression arises for lethal assurance. as whisper of the wind comforts their core. Peaceful waves are humble companion but drifted storm gives them caution.
Bitterness that came out is cursing, turn into sweetness to become a blessing. Valuable indeed for a judgment, The small helm of the ship on the sea for words can lift a man from his torment. controls the great as the breeze blows free; The tongue can lead people, tooa little member that bridles the crew. 36|Ellipsis
Beautiful nightmare By Vanessa Faye E. Matoto
Venus shines in the night, Shooting through gleaming eyes so bright. Crimson cheeks blooming like fresh rose. How great to picture your beauty glows. Oh, I could kiss you all day long! Embrace you with a love so strong. Your occurrence painted my life with hue. If only you will, I promise to cherish you. My devotion is true, you will never weep. Your sweetest smile startles me whenever I sleep. I see you everywhere, from night to day. Without you, my colorful life turns to gray. My vision blurred; you slowly vanished. This wonderful insight has sadly finished. An end has come to this complicated romance, as I open my eyes and realized, I was lost in a trance! Ellipsis|37
Broken possessions By Dauntless Mockingjay
Suffocated by obsession, enthralled by aggression. I slept with my wealth alone to soothe the depression I own. But as I hold this bounty – the cold surge of toxicity, has awaken me from the drama I am in. A dream, reminding me of my sins. With a glimpse of the past, I lost everything. No money to spend, no riches to bring. Screams for redemption were defeated by cries, seeking forgiveness behind the skies. Shirtless body clutched dreadful breeze, realized time can’t go back or freeze. Those days were gone but it dug through my skin, open wounds spilled blood of my kin. The thing I cannot fix – obsession. The one I cannot control – aggression. And I broke and lied on the road alone, regretted all the things I’ve done for my own.
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Sulat-kamay ni Allen Ni K hryztina R. Roa
Mga Tauhan: Lia- anak na dalaga ng isang doktor Allen- kaibigang matalik ni Lia Dr. Gab- amang doktor ni Lia at ninong ni Allen Nars Ann- punong nars sa ospital nila Lia Tagpuan: Sa pagtabing ng kurtina, makikita ang isang babae na balisang nag-aantay at nakaupo sa silya sa waiting shed. Makalipas ang ilang sandali, may humahangos na lalaking paparating at kaagad niyang sinalubong at kinausap ito. Lia: Dala mo ba? Allen: Bakit? Lia: (medyo tataas ang boses sa inis) Di ka ba nakikinig sa ‘kin? Allen: Nakikinig ako, syempre! (ngingisi ng malapad) Lia: So, dala mo ba nga? Sana dala mo. Allen: Ang ano ba kasi yun? Mapagtripan nga muna itong napakasungit na babaeng ito (tinago ang bag na hawak sa likod) Lia: Hindi ka talaga nakikinig sa ‘kin nang sinabi ko sa ‘yo eh! (biglang aalis at tatakbo palayo kay Allen) Habang tumatakbo palayo si Lia mula sa waiting shed. Nanatiling nakatayo si Allen na mukhang nagulat. Allen: Uy Lia, hintay! (sigaw niya kay Lia habang hinahabol ito) Lia: (Di nag-atubiling lilingunin si Allen) Ellipsis|39
Allen: Lia! Lia: … Di kita papansinin, nakakainis ka! Allen: Lia naman, sorry na oh. Hala! Baka mapikon na naman ‘to Lia: … Hmmmp. Nakakainis ka talaga, bakit niya pa naiwan yun? Angtagal-tagal na nun eh. Allen: Lia, kausapin mo na ako oh. Sorry na. Pansinin mo na ako please, dala ko naman eh. Lia: … (Nakayuko pa rin habang iniisip kung gaano kahalaga yung bagay na pinapadala niya dito) Allen: Lia naman eh. (Tumigil sa pangungulit kay Lia at napayuko bigla) Lia: … Hindi kita papansinin hangga’t di mo ‘yun nadadala. Agad isisara ang pulang kurtina sa entablado. Maririnig ang malakas na sagitsit ng gulong ng sasakyan at ang malakas na pagbangga. Screeeeeecccchhh!!!!!!!!!! Blag! Muling hahawiin ang pulang kurtina na nakatabing sa entablado. Makikita ang isang lalaking nakahandusay sa lapag at si Lia na napatulala sa nasaksihang aksidente. Lia: Alleeeeeeeeen! (Umiiyak na lalapitan ito at hahagkan sa kabila ng maraming dugo) Allen: Lia (Nanghihina at namamaos na sambit nito sa pangalan niya) Lia: Allen, kumapit ka please.Allen... Tulong! Tulong! (Palahaw niya habang humihingi ng tulong) Allen: … Sorr- (Tuluyan nang napapikit ang mga mata) Lia: Allen! (Nanangis na sumisigaw) Habang yakap-yakap ni Lia ang duguang katawan ni Allen, sasarang muli nang dahan-dahan ang pulang kurtina. Maririnig ang malakas na sirena ng ambulansya sa entablado. Pagkahawi ng tabing, makikitang isinasakay na sa ambulansiya si Allen at makikita din ang umiiyak na si Lia. Biglang mamatay ang ilaw ng ilang minuto sa entablado at maya-maya, makikita si Lia na nasa receiving area ng hospital. Tagpuan: Sa receiving area ng ospital. Lia: Tita, saang kwarto nila dinala si Allen Hernandez? (Humihikbing tanong niya sa nars niyang tita) Nars Ann: Lia nasa operation room na siya ngayon at andun na ang ama mo. Lia: Sige tita, salamat. (Agad tatakbuhin ang kahabaan ng pasilyo papuntang operation room) Nang nasa harap na siya ng operation room, sinilip niya ang loob nito ngunit bigo siya na makita ang nasa loob nito. Umupo nalang siya sa isang silya doon at inubob ang mukha sa sa kanyang mga kamay. Lia: Panginoon iligtas Nyo po si Allen. (Dasal niya habang yakap-yakap ang bag na gamit ni Allen hanggang sa nakatulog) Didilim ang buong entablado pagkatapos ay bubuksan ang isang ilaw upang ituon kay Lia. Magigising siya dahil sa nagliliwanag na katabi niya. Tititigan niya ang nakakasilaw na liwanag. Boses: Lia... (Mahina ngunit malamig ang boses) Bubuksan ang mga ilaw at biglang magliliwanag ang paligid sa entablado. Lia: Salam- Allen! (Nagulat sa kanyang katabi at biglang hahagkan ng mahigpit si Allen) Allen: Lia... (Ngingiti nang matamis ngunit nasasalamin sa kanyang mga mata ang kalungkutan) Lia: Di ako makapaniwala! Nakaligtas ka Allen! (Sumisigaw sa galak at biglang kakalas sa pagkakayakap kay Allen) 40|Ellipsis
Allen: Lia, tungkol dun sa pinapadala mo, andiyan lang sa bag kong hawak mo. (Matamlay at malamig na boses niyang sabi) Lia: Talaga? Eh ba’t sabi mo? Tuloy...(Tinatangkang buksan ang bag na nasa kandungan niya) Lia: Anong lama-? Allen? Asan na yun? (Hahanapin si Allen at makakasalubong ang kanyang amang doktor) Dr. Gab: (Malungkot na bungad niya sa anak at yayakapin ito) Lia... Anak.. Sorry di ko siya nakayang isalba. Lia: Pa, kausap ko pa lang siya kanina, anong di naisalba? Anong sinasabi mo? Dr. Gab: Lia, anak. Wala na ang inaanak ko, ang matalik mong kaibigan. Lia: (May tutulong luha sa kanyang mga mata) P-paano nangyari yun? Mapapasalampak sa sahig si Lia at yayakapin ang kanyang mga tuhod habang umiiyak at maaalala ang mga masasayang sandali nila ni Allen. Mamamatay ulit ang mga ilaw sa entablado at sasara ulit ang kurtina. Sa pagbukas ng kurtina, tatambad ang mga masasayang mukha nila Lia at Allen habang naghahabulan na parang mga bata. Matutunghayan din ang kanilang pag-aasaran, pagkukulitan, awayan at pagpapalitan ng mga regalo sa kanya-kanyang kaarawan. Muling sasara ang kurtina at tatambad muli sa paghawi nito ang pigura ni Lia na nakasalampak pa rin sa sahig. Dr. Gab: Anak, tumayo ka na diyan. (Itatayo at aalalayan ang anak na makatayo) Lia: Pa, di ko matanggap na wala na siya. Ang sakit sakit, Pa.(Umiiyak niyang kinakausap ang kanyang ama) Dr. Gab: Anak, wala na tayong magagawa sa nangyari. Pag-aralan nating tanggapin ang mga bagay-bagay na di ayon sa ating loob. Matatanggap din natin ito (Inaalo ang luhaang anak) Lia: Sana nga Pa. (Pinapahid ng mga palad ang mga luha at bubuksan ang bag ni Allen) Nang nabuksan niya na ito, nabigla siya sa kanyang nakita. Ito yung matagal na niyang pinapadala kay Allen – isang notebook. Sa notebook niyang iyon, may mga nakasulat na sulat kamay ni Allen at nung binuklat niya ito hanggang sa huli ay may nakita siyang isang mamahaling sobre at kwintas na para sa kanya. Lalamlam ang mga ilaw at itututok ang ilaw kay Lia habang binabasa ang hawak-hawak na notebook habang may boses na maririnig sa buong entablado. Boses: (Boses ni Allen) Hi Lia! Sorry pala sa kakulitan ko ah. Alam kong naiinis ka na lagi sa akin dahil sa kakulitan ko. Sorry talaga. Ahmm... Sorry din pala kung matagal bago ko naisauli sa iyo itong notebook. Alam kong galit ka sa akin dahil dito, pero sorry talaga. Yung kwintas pala na kasama nitong notebook at sulat ko ay para sayo talaga. Aalis na kasi kami ng family ko. Pinuno ko ng mga pictures natin ang notebook mo kaya matagal kong naibalik. Gusto ko kasing magpaalam sa pamamagitan ng sulat na ito kasi baka pigilan mo lang ako. Pero nais ko lang ipaalam sa iyo bago ako aalis na higit pa sa isang kaibigan ang tingin ko sayo. Kaya lang natatakot ako kaya mas pinili ko nalang munang lumayo. Lia, pakabait ka lagi ah, nandito lang ako lagi na bestfriend mo. Liliwanag bigla ang buong paligid ng entablado at makikita si Lia na nakayuko. Lia: Allen ba’t mo ako iniwan? (Umiiyak niyang niyayakap ang tanging naiwang notebook at gamit ni Allen) Ellipsis|41
Dugo sa sandata Ni Blared Virago
Napabalikwas ako sa papag kong higaan nang may marinig akong sumisigaw sa labas ng aming bahay. Kahit medyo lasing pa sa kaantukan, mabilis akong pumanhik ng aming bahay upang tingnan kung ano ang mayroon sa labas. Nawala ang aking antok ng makita ko ang aking ina na inaalipusta ng aming mga kapitbahay. Agad kong pinuntahan ang aking inay at inakay paalis sa lugar na iyon sa kabila ng maraming hambalos at palo na aking natatamo. “Umalis na kayo dito!” sigaw ng isang babaeng sa tingin ko ay ang namumuno. “Oo nga. Mga salot kayo dito!” dagdag pa ng isang matabang lalaki. Babalikan ko pa sana sila upang ipagtanggol ang aking ina ngunit nabigla ako ng hinawakan niya ang aking mga palad. Napatingin ako sa kanyang mga malamlam na mata na animo’y ipinapahiwatig na hayaan ko na daw sila. Tumango nalang ako at inakay siya papunta sa loob ng aming maliit at tagpitagping bahay. Pinaupo ko siya sa maliit na papag na nakaharap sa maliit na bintana. Pagkatapos ay ginamot ko ang kanyang galos na dulot ng mga mapang-abusong tao sa aming lugar. Pinalitan ko din siya ng isang malinis na daster na paborito niyang suotin tapos pinakain ko ng lugaw na tira mula sa niluto ko kaninang umaga. Nang matapos ko siyang pakainin, agad siyang humiga sa papag at agad ipinikit ang kanyang mga mata dahil sa pagod. Sa pamamagitan ng aming maliit na bintana, natanaw ko ang mga naglalakihan at magagarang bahay na nakapaligid sa aming bahay. Nalungkot ako sa aking sarili, di man lang ako kinikibo ng aking inay. May tumulong mainit na butil ng luha sa aking mga pisngi ng maisip ko ang kalagayan ng aking ina, at ang kalagayan namin. Bakas pa ang luha sa aking pisngi ng umupo ako sa tabi ng natutulog kong ina. Inay, balang araw, makakaalpas din tayo sa kahirapan. Mapapagamot din kita. Mapapansin mo din ako. Hinalikan ko siya sa kanyang noo at tumayo sa pagkakaupo. Kinuha ko ang aking sandata at nagsulat nang nagsulat sa pamamagitan ng sinag ng lampara hanggang sa sumapit na ang liwanag. Pagkatapos kong magsulat, pinagluto ko ng lugaw ang aking inay at iniwanan siya ng isang sulat na nagsasabing ako’y may pupuntahan lang saglit. Lumabas ako ng bahay at binagtas nang palihim ang daan papunta sa isang sikretong tagpuan. Agad kong narating ang aming napag-usapang tagpuan. Gaya ng inaasahan, siya ay naroon na at naghihintay sa akin habang humihithit ng isang sigarilyo. “O Josh, nandito ka na pala, dala mo na ba?” pambungad na bati ni Max. “Oo naman Max. Di ako natulog para lang matapos ito. Ito nga pala, tignan mo,” sagot niya habang inaabot ang makapal na papel. “Mukhang andaming hugot nito pare ah,” ang sabi ni Max habang binabasa ng pahapyaw ang
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mga nakasulat. “Kaya nga pare, gusto kong maipalimbag yan para sa mga talipandas na mayayaman na kumakamkam ng libo-libong salapi at nang-aapi sa mga katulad nating mahihirap. Syempre pagtutulungan natin ito, di ba?” ang naninigurong tanong ni Josh kay Max. “Oo naman pare, magtutulungan tayo para sa mahihirap at para na din magamot ang nanay mo,” sagot ni Max. Agad silang umalis sa lugar na iyon gamit ang karag-karag na motor ni Max upang puntahan ang kanilang propesor na nagturo sa kanilang magsulat noon. Naalala ni Josh ang winika nito noong nagaaral pa sila ni Max. Ang pinakanakakamatay na sandata ay ang inyong pluma mga anak. Hindi ito kayang daigin ng kahit anumang armas dahil ang bawat titik na ilalapat ninyo ay tatagos sa bawat pusong nanlulupig. Napangiti siya sa naalala. Magkikita ulit sila ng kanyang paboritong propesor sa kolehiyo na naghikayat sa kanya na magsulat nang magsulat noon. Narating namin ang bahay ng aming dating propesor. Binigay ko sa kanya ang bungkos ng papel at agad niya itong binasa. “Magaling Josh. Di ko sukat akalain na magagamit mo ang mga tinuro ko sayo. Ipapalimbag natin ‘to. Kumusta na pala inay mo?” tanong niya sa akin. “Malubha po ang kalagayan niya ngayon Ginoo. Di na po siya nakakapagsalita buhat noong nasaksihan niya ang pagpatay sa aking tatay sa aming lugar. Natatakot po ako baka isang araw ay tuluyan siyang mawalay gaya ng aking ama na biktima ng mga taong ganid at makasarili,” ang malungkot na sagot niya sa kanyang propesor. “Nalulungkot ako para sa iyo iho. May kakilala akong doktor na maaring makagamot sa kanya. Ipapagamot natin siya pagkatapos ng ating ginagawang misyon. Okay lang ba sa iyo ang aking suhestyon?” tanong ng Ginoo. “Opo Ginoo, ikinagagalak ko po iyon,” natutuwa nyang sagot. “O sige. Ihanda nyo na ang inyong sarili at may pupuntahan tayo,” sabi sa kanila ni Ginoong Franz at umalis saglit para ayusin ang gagamiting sasakyan. Makalipas ang ilang oras na biyahe ay narating nila ang isang liblib na lugar na may isang sikretong palimbagan. Agad silang pumasok at siniguradong walang nakasunod at nakakita sa kanila. Limipas pa ang ilang oras at matatapos na ang paglilimbag nang may marinig silang putok ng baril na pumutok. **** Matapos ang limang taon... “Josh, gising na may naghahanap sayo,” gising ng kanyang inay. “Sino po inay?” tanong niya. “Mga kaibigan mo daw, isang propesor at yung isa, kasing-edad mo lang din,” tugon ng inay. Agad tumayo sa kanyang kinahihigaan si Josh at pumunta ng banyo upang makapag-ayos ng sarili. Nang matapos, bumaba siya at hinarap ang kanyang mga ‘di inaaasahang bisita. Nagalak siya at muli niyang nakita ang mga ito matapos ang limang taon. Hindi niya nakita ang mga ito magmula nang nailimbag ang kanyang libro dahil sila’y tinugis ng gobyerno. Nagkaroon man ng kumplikasyon, nagbunga ng maganda ang kanyang pinaghirapang katha at maraming tumangkilik sa libro niya at marami ding kritikong tumuligsa. Dahil sa kaisa-isang librong nailimbag ay nagbago ang mga mayayamang umalipusta sa mahihirap. Isang kayamanan ang katumbas ng isang libro na wala ang mga mayayaman sa panahong ito. Lubos na kasiyahan ang aking nararamdaman sa panahong ito. Anomang yaman mayroon ako ngayon ay bunga ng aking pagsisikap at determinasyon. Kaya naman, ang lahat ng ito ay ibabahagi ko rin sa mga mahihirap. Ibinigay sakin ang lumang kopya ng aking libro ni Ginoong Franz at aking binigay ito sa aking inay na nagulat sa kanyang nakita. Mi Primera Inspiracion ni Josh Mercedes Pagmamahal ko sa aking ina ang naging inspirasyon ko sa libro kong iyon. Lumuha nalang siyang bigla at hinagkan ako ng pagkahigpit-higpit na nagpangiti sakin ng napakatamis. Binaling ko ang tingin sa aking dalawang tapat na kaibigan at pinasalamatan. ‘Di mapantayan ang kasiyahan ko dahil sa wakas at naramdaman ko na rin ang tunay na pagmamahal ng isang ina nang sinambit niya ang mga katagang “patawad aking anak.” Ellipsis|43
Ilusyon
Dominic Vincent L. Ver
When principles collide Ivan Radzll M. Montealegre
Game of Deceit By Gray Quill
The man spun around as the lady stood a few feet from him. She held a pistol aimed right at him while he was cornered and backed up against a wall. He held the briefcase close, as he narrowed his eyes coldly at her, holding the case close to his chest. “Dead end,” she said, as a mischievous grin formed upon her face, “It’s all over, Mr. Jason. Your job ends here,” she continued. “Oh? Do you think so?” Jason’s voice was filled with sarcasm as he lowered his fedora down. “You’re bluffing,” he called her out as he had his hand firm at the case handle. “And that one night was definitely a better challenge than this.” A slow grin crept on his as an angry frown replaced hers. “Shut up. You know nothing about me,” she replied with a harsh and angered tone. “You don’t even know my full name.” “It doesn’t matter. The only place that’ll need your name is in the police report once they’re done investigating your dead body.” With his eyes looking calmly at her weapon, Jason grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. “If you attempt to fire, the gun will be jammed because the lock was broken a few days prior.” Shifting his hand to his lighter, Jason lit his cigarette up as he puffed out the smoke. “That’s a lie!” She screamed angrily. “Pull the trigger then,” he dared, as he smiled menacingly at her. This pushed her off. The lady then quickly pulled the trigger with a crazed expression painted on her face. Click. “What the—” Click, click. Jason watched the lady panicked on where she stood. He was amused by this sight. This distraction however gave him enough time. He drew his own firearm from his coat and aimed it right at her chest while he seemed to be smiling at her unfolded demise. “Well, I believe this meeting is cut sho—”Jason’s words were cut short as the lady’s gun went off sending a bullet to his throat. The lady was both relieved and satisfied, as the agent before her slowly dropped dead on the ground, holding his firearm. Releasing his grip from the case, the lady went over his bleeding body and picked it up. She wanted to confirm if it was the package. Her hand moved over to manipulate the lock then slowly turned the small aluminum object. Clang. Out of curiosity, the lady snuck a peek at the case before it opened completely, unfortunately faster than she could anticipate; she was instantly hit with a dart on her right eye. The case was nothing but a decoy, set up by the agency that hired her. Her relieved expression painted all over her face was replaced with agony when the dart buried itself deep in her eye. She bled while she slowly fell on the ground, blood slowly seeping from her eyeball. It was a few hours later before the policemen found the bodies. They had found out that the two were involved in a spy ring. In the investigation, the detective-in-charge made a small remark to his officers. “Nobody wins in the game of deceit.”
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The Proud
By Ellis Roi A. Faminiano and Kaye Ann P. Bernal
Consider me as high and mighty! The capable, smart, and exemplary! Notice my strength, perceive my greatness Grant me your respect and reverence Why people always seem to defy me? How envious and jealous they may be! Pointing at faults, every time they see What’s wrong with the people around me? Then a wise man gave an advice Excessive vanity is a vice Pride has nothing to do with greatness Be humble, and respect is the price I listened and now I realized; My weakness mark my arrogance I should learn to kill hubristic pride For me to earn their warm acceptance Ellipsis|47
In a flutter of a butterfly’s wings By S. Owen
Everything happens for a reason. This is what we often tell ourselves and our friends whenever life decides to play jerk. A variation of this line goes on to be more religious – God has plans. It is indeed an optimistic perspective of life. However, behind this positivity is our desire to conceal the fear of facing the consequences of our failures. We are afraid to accept the fact that there is nobody we could ever blame for our mistakes, no matter how terrible they are, but ourselves. We have found a way to feel less-responsible for our shortcomings. Religious people tend to be less affected by disappointment in life primarily due to their belief that everything that happens, whether good or bad, leads to a greater good as promised by their holy scriptures. According to a study on the links of happiness and religion, conducted by Professor Andrew E. Clark of the Paris School of Economics, people with strong ties with their church have higher levels of life satisfaction. This, in turn, translates to their insusceptibility to depression. In simple words, they can endure more of what life could throw at them. While this optimism proves to be an advantage in our life’s journey, it can instill a “careless” 48|Ellipsis
attitude to the people who practice it. Knowing that an omnibenevolent entity has a grand design for all of us, we will be less cautious on making decisions. Then, if the decisions we made appear to be bad, we do not blame ourselves too much for we think that the mistake is mandated to happen and has a purpose in the long-run. If we exclude religious beliefs, this optimism would be hard to maintain because everything that occurs would have no reason at all. There would be no bed of roses waiting for us, things just happen and we have to endure all of them. In reality, there really is no “plan.” There is no pre-written storyline for every human being. Life is not a novel authored by a single person. More correctly, life is an on-going (with an indefinite end) story authored by everything involved in it. Rather than being scripted, the events that take place day by day merely rely on the principle of cause and effect. Things happen not because it has a purpose. They happen because they were triggered by previous acts and events. Everything that you do right now will pull the strings of circumstances throughout your life. However, this does not mean that your story depends on your actions alone. As stated earlier, life is a story authored by everything involved in it. Regardless of how deliberate you are on your decisions, the actions that other people take and the events that take place around you can either have beneficial or adverse effects on you. Based on the Butterfly Effect, a single occurrence no matter how small can change the course of the universe forever. Furthermore, nothing in existence is insignificant. A mere flutter of butterfly’s wings can brew a hurricane, continents away, years in the future (the theory got its name on that example). This simply means that absolutely everything that we do, affects everything. The universe is like a sphere and everything included in it are metal balls. Every time one of those immeasurable amount of metal balls move, it collides with the balls around it and those balls shake as well, shaking the others, and shaking everything else. This, on the other hand, is what the Ripple Effect states – one event causes a series of events to happen. Relating the butterfly and ripple effects, the series of events that radiated from the minor initial event will become larger: hence, causing bigger effects to its surroundings. Again, an occurrence, no matter how small, can have drastic effects to the events that are yet to come. Relaying these scientific principles does not make me an intellectual person. The truth is, I just Googled them all as I was writing this essay. I might have even misunderstood them but that does not matter, really. What I want to imply is that we should stop burdening ourselves on planning for the future. There is nothing wrong about preparing for tomorrow but if you live your life worrying about what will happen the next day and the years to come, you will just end up losing today’s gift unwrapped and untouched. Your sense of presence will cease to exist. How can you live a purpose-driven life if you are too worried about what tomorrow will bring? Try to dart your eyes on the present. Focus on what’s happening right now. No one really knows what the right thing to do is. Trust yourself. Act according to the man you are, not the man who the people expect you to be. Have no worries. After all, your life can change in a flutter of a butterfly’s wings. Ellipsis|49
F ragile
By Keinth Joseph P. Cantor
Summer warmed the frozen hearts. Hands intertwined, they grew apart. Innocent smile and playful kissreminiscent of a fateful twist. Darkness engulfed, the silence stroke. Forgotten words of love they spoke. Enveloped an oath in a pinky swearbut broke it up in a twilight’s glare. Thousand stars amidst the sea of light. His voice echoed her name at night. And if sky forgives an honest lie, won’t decade-old memories die? Like stories left open-ended, came conflicts they never wanted. The dreams once built in vibrant hue became mistakes fate can’t undo. 50|Ellipsis
Where can your hardwork take you?
Wrald Bastille G. Geronimo
To my last visit By Kriselle Ann P. Marquez
I visit my room and stand by the window, Hear the psalms of birds in their crescendo. In a little while they flew freely, Then I saw my arms chained up tightly. I visit my garden; no one is around, At midnight, peacefulness is found. Surely no one will look at me, Only the moon that shines brightly. I visit the library in the basement, Read people’s lives in their atonement, Judgment unleashes its vanity. Molded by hands of cruelty.
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The mirror disgraces my grin showing my eyes that glistens with sin. Envious strife that tears my heart. Ruined my mind with Satan’s dart. To indulge in a special dream is my wish, an exquisite fortune that won’t vanish. For I am wistful of humane pleasure, A perfect courage with an endless measure.
Heaven’s Heel By Kiel C. Aranda
Behold, ‘til the light has vanished, and downfall embraced entity; greatness won’t come to an end for I am bound for eternity. In this world where dreams were ruined, where faith was spoiled by doubt; soon will the power of my command shall rise from the resting south. Live through the clamor and agony held in your chains of defeat and misery. Chances are gone in this sinful sphere, keep an eye on the heaven’s heel.
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In the heap of garbage finding a home By Claudio V. Tabotabo
Every morning after mass the priest sauntered out of the church and talked to people about anything. It was a kind of leisure that gained him friendship of everyone from the different portions of the community. He was young and good looking and girls found him so tamed and friendly. When he smiles it was a hearty one. Girls are mesmerized to look at the face as dimples carved on the cheeks. It was only in one of his lectures to a group of inmates when a listener noticed a scar that occupied a region on his right cheek. It was a mark that only the rough and the brave must posses. The man who noticed it thought about the kind of life the priest must have in the past. The morning was cool and everyone in the church had left. The priest was all alone enjoying the morning breeze that fanned his face. Seen from the distance his dress flickered as hit by the morning shaft of light while he stood by the grill that separated the church from the road that was an immortal busy. It was only yesterday when he learned that rations would last in few days, and the children will wander the streets again in search of anything to eat. The cook worried about the situation, but the priest was calm. “Everything shall be in order.” He was in a deep thought while staring at the road for minutes then turned to see the church behind him. Chirping of birds was audible as covey of pigeons settled on the space near the grill where he was standing. The bird searched for a left over, but in a sudden they whirled away and nothing was heard of except the speeding jeepneys and sneezing trucks on the way to the pier. The priest looked at the statues of the two facing angels in the entrance of the church. Then another flock of the same kind of bird came and wanted to land but flew away as the gate which was lull for a time clanged to open and a man came in through it. The man was old enough that his paces were made almost to dragging. A derby hat was on, and the face under the hat was familiar. A brown clutch bag was secured under his right arm. He stopped and reached out for his derby before he proceeded inside the church. An old sense of friendship rekindled in the heart of the priest. It was long ago when he found comfort in a kind of friendship and now it was there again. The old man resumed his walk with his hat now on his chest. “Mang Jesse”, the priest mumbled the name and the man looked up at him with difficulty. For moments they looked at each other. Time slid back to the past when Edmund was a boy who tried to evade the mob and the police. Gun sounded and bullets swished above him. They hit the street mark and pierced through the concrete wall behind it. “They’re serious” Edmund thought as he ran crossing the lines of cars. Every blank space he ran by, gun sounded and its bullets punctured the fences and walls. Sometimes the concrete nearby burst and its fragments hit him in the face. But he knew those fires were only meant to scare him and to please the victim now in the height of her crying. Tonight a tanod will come to him to get their share, it was only like that. But it was this kind of drama that killed Jerry month ago. He kept on running, not far away was the abandoned factory, its home, Edmund thought. Home, he could not say the word but the meaning resounded inside. “They’re waiting for me now” the thudding of his feet joined the throbbing of his heart. Glass stores passed by behind him and he kept on running. He could still savor the aroma of the cued chickens that turned by themselves in the cubicle. He passed through the place several times everyday, and this kind of escape was not a new thing to him. But this time his plan while making a run was mixed up with worries. “What if Mang Jesse would really go? Annie has fever, last night she was in a delirium, what about her dream of becoming
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a singer? What would come of them now? And what if the demolition would finally come to their place? Perhaps tonight would be their last together.” He swerved his way to the terminal where at the back of it he could take a short cut through Benavidez and that would be Ilaya. He knew near the Sto. Niño church there are spaces some are occupied by other boys like him. He could refresh himself there and wait for the night to deepen before he could continue home. For the first time of the day he felt tired and his face swelled to the deep. He remembered one of the tanod hit him in the face. He reached out for it and there was a fresh blood that flowed over the hardened one. His foot was sore but the running must go on. True enough there were houses made of throw-away materials where people are unmindful to each other. By instinct Edmund knew where in the place he could hide and take a breath away from his pursuers. Under the high dark wall there was a corner unfrequented by people. He had been there few days ago and the place was still the same since the last time he came. The same putrefaction from the drainage met him and agitated his nostril. But he was used to it. He stooped and went into the cage that was bigger than the one he saw in the rich man’s house where a rooster used to honk. Now far from the angry men he laid down his catch and pulled out the Batangas-knife from the rear pocket of his short pant. It was smeared with blood. The driver of the Chinese lady blocked his way and grasped him in the neck. To free him from the man’s hand, he delivered his knife twice. The first stroke hit the man in the leg, the second missed because the man released him when he was hit by the first. He put the knife beside him and pulled up the black bag to examine its inside. He was in a hurry as if lightning will strike if he could not open it ahead. There were items, so valuable that the throbbing of his heart was louder than when he was running, a cell phone, gold wrist watch, a purse containing money and some items that belonged to a woman. He groped them all and pushed into his pockets. The swelling of his cheek became domineering. He was cold and tired and few minutes elapsed
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he could no longer hold himself. Sleep took him but before he completely forgot the world he heard a hymn being sung from far away. He saw the pictures of girls with wings in white dresses. The hymn went on but suddenly stopped when a murmur of a man went to the top, and nothing was heard of as he himself was carried to nowhere. The tickling of the gold watch inside his pocket went on for unaccounted moments. Night took the light of the day and it was the hour Edmund was waiting for. But the boy could not resist the desire for a sleep. He went to a place where no policemen are seen. There were no rich men who gave him nothing but a saturnine look. The place was green and above the meadow in the distance there is a waterfall. In the empty space near the fall a flock of white birds traversed to the south where their figures faded. Edmund went closer the fall until he saw that at the end of it was blue water. In a sudden the picture warped and he saw Mang Jesse carrying Annie. He was running with the other people who lived near the abandoned factory. Edmund tried to follow them but he was stopped by a powerful blow of water from the truck. He dropped and his face shoved into the land. Rain was breaking to his face when he waked up. He pulled himself up and once done he examined the valuables in his pocket. Everything was there but he was wet. He listened for moments and thrust his head out of the cage he was hiding. It was dark outside and the rain went on. No body was around except the endless tarry of men at the back of the vendors’ boxes. Rain and darkness were enough to cover him on the way home. It was the time he was waiting for and no policemen could molest him that hour of the night. But safe homecoming was still unsure. The road was infested with boys who would bully him to let out everything he had. They knew him and the business he finished that day. He thought of the darkest alley and resumed his quest for home. The meaning of the word home made him moved in a flash. He passed through the path as designed in his mind. With strides so wide he came to the road that led to the slum where home as he thought was. He stopped and found himself standing before the wall of galvanized iron. There were guards who looked down at him but he insisted to move closer. There was no sign of the old factory. Nothing was left but wall of iron. One of the guards holding a gun with his finger on the trigger gestured him to move away. He moved as ordered but he tried to look back and the guard was still looking at him. Minutes had elapsed with nothing transpired in the mind of the boy, and then he discovered he stood in a puddle. “Where now” his heart burst. He walked to the direction he did not know and he did not know any direction to take. The rain did not abate; it went on as the night went deeper. The boy still stood in the open with his figure distorted by the darkness and rain. A figure of a woman in a long white dress with a head covering also in white came to him in umbrella. They talked and they strode to the direction where a group seemed to be waiting. The rain went on and the figure of Edmund and the woman was hazy. They joined the group until completely they melted in the dark. The demolition pushed through the expanse of shanties that clustered surrounding the mountains of garbage. Squatters were wiped out of the place, and once it was clean, glass houses began to stand up. But hunger still lingered among the poor who now reside in the spaces under the bridges of Manila. Years went by and many new things came up. More religious missionaries arrived and put up churches where street children are housed, fed and educated. Around 20 years had passed when a group of foreign missionaries came to the place. It was night and was raining while the members of the demolition team had a rest for the night. The missionaries came across with a boy, so forlorn and homeless. They took him with them and after years he came back to start a mission of educating the run away boys. Dry leaves rustled through the pavement of the open space in front of the church. Near the entrance on the first pew sat Edmund and Jesse. “It took us years to understand things.” Fr. Edmund said as the old man sat listening. The priest went on. “I thought I would land in jail, but I was thrust into the seminary.” Time was so rough.”
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The old man said in a languid voice. “But we outsmart it.” He continued. “It’s not important that we suffered, it’s how we do for others. Your project for the street children is well heard in the province.” “Yes but we always run out of supplies, we only depend on donations.” Jesse looked at the face of the priest and finally discovered the scar. “Where did you get it?” He asked. “It was the last one I wanted you to clean and cured, but you went away.” There was silence, and after few minutes Mang Jesse pulled up into his lap the clutch bag he settled beside him. He unzipped it and brought out a book, a paperback. “Do you read novels?” Jesse asked and the priest marveled at the sudden change of topic; he looked at his guest. Such a topic did not occur to them in the past. “Yes in the seminary I read Dickens, Steinbeck.” He contemplated for moments then went on. “Yes I have read Richard Wright, his Native Son and I think there are others.” “Well this one is not good as those, but it voices out the same cry, just try it.” He handed the book to the priest at the same time stood and said goodbye. Edmund received the book and looked down at it, The Song of a Slum Girl by Jesse Baldemor. He recalled Mang Jesse used to write; he was a journalist but hid when certain politician in Mindanao promised him death if he goes on writing. Skimming the first few pages he came to the comments of previous readers. He read such words as; poignant, moving, social commentary and the words came from the known critics of the country. He went to the pages were the story begins, and it was there chapter one. Annie was a girl, abandoned by her parents, a couple scavenging the garbage took her, but abandoned again because life was unbearable. Edmund ran away from home when his parents broke out and his father brought home a new wife. Jerry was abandoned by his drug addicted parents. They sought for a care, in the garbage they found each other and in each other they found a family. A ball of crystalline water singled down and broke into the page in silence. Edmund raised his eyes to see the old man. He could still see him but his figure was blurred for his eyes were clouded. Days went on reading the novel. It was one morning when a man came and introduced himself as lawyer. “I am sent by the publisher of Mr. Jesse Baldemor.” He extended his hand to the priest which the latter received. The visitor went on. “I’m sure you know Jesse.” “Yes I do.” “He has a document given to me. It says here that his royalty for the novel Annie shall be given to the orphanage, here’s it Father.” The priest took the paper and examined it while the lawyer waited for him to finish. “But he has another paper here father. The paper says that you Fr. Edmund in his behalf is entitled to collect all his royalty from his other novels and you have all the rights to use the money for the church and orphanage” There was an intermittent of silence. No words came out from the mouth of Fr. Edmund, but he was able to ask. “Where is Mang Jesse?” The lawyer fixed the content of his suitcase which was disarrayed when he brought out the papers for Fr. Edmund. “He died two weeks ago” His words were like the tolling of a bell that churns the silence of the distance.
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Girl Stuff
Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus
Ngiti ni Luwalhati Ni Solcty
“Oo siya nga.� Alas-otso na ng gabi nang ako ay makalabas ng unibersidad. Hhabang nasa sasakyan ay nadama ko ang pagpikit ng aking mapanglaw na mga mata dala ng sobrang pagod na naranasan. Hindi ko na namalayan na sa pagdilat nito ay narating ko na ang aking destinasyon. “Manong, sa tabi lang po,� sabi ko sa drayber habang dumudungaw sa labas ng bintana ng dyip. Sa aking paglalakad patungo sa hagdan, iniayos ko muna ang aking nagulong buhok na hanggang beywang at ang aking puting uniporme na bahagyang nagusot sa aking pagkakaupo kanina. Beep...beep...beep...beep... Naramdaman ko mula sa aking bulsa ang pagtunog ng aking telepono. Nag-text pala si Bella, ang aking matalik na kaibigan na tinuring ko na ring tunay na kapatid. May kailangan daw kaming puntahan bukas, ngunit hindi niya sinabi kung saan. Masasagot ko na daw ang mga katanungan ko sa aking sarili, yun lang ang tangi niyang sinabi. Mula sa aking bag, inilabas ko ang ticket na naging katuwang ko sa pagbiyahe. Patuloy ang aking pagtahak papunta sa susunod kong destinasyon. Tahimik ang lugar na ito. Napakasarap ng buhay kung ganito ang mangyayari sa araw-araw. PRRRTT... Tsug...tsug...tsug...tsug... Naaninag ko na ang liwanag buhat sa di kalayuan, paparating na ang tren. Sa pagbukas ng pintuan, iba't-ibang mukha ang sumalubong sa akin. Ang kanilang mga Ellipsis|59
mata ay waring nagsisiyasat sa aking pagkatao. Sa aking pagpasok, nadama ko ang hampas ng lamig sa aking balat, na unti-unting bumabaon sa aking kalamnan. Habang nakatayo, biglang may isang tunog na bumasag sa tahimik na kapaligiran. Ngayon ko lamang napagtanto na mula agahan ay wala pang kalaman-laman ang aking sikmura kundi tanging tubig lamang. Naramdaman ko na rin ang pag-ikot ng aking kapaligiran. Bigla ko na lang naalala na may binili pala akong biskwit bago ako lumabas ng unibersidad. Habang nasa kasarapan ako ng pagkain, napukaw ang aking atensyon mula sa isang nakapanghihilakbot na tinig. Oh buntis! Paupuin ninyo. Hindi niyo ba alam na prayoridad dito ang mga matatanda, may kapansanan at mga buntis?” Isang nauutal na tinig ang aking naulinigan sa kalapitan na parang may ipinaglalaban na adhikain. Napalingat ako sa aking gilid at nakita ang isang matandang lalaki na nakatalikod mula sa akin. Pinagmamasdan ko ang kanyang postura, at inaaninag mula sa aking kinatatyuan ang kanyang mukha. Isang maaliwalas na mukha ang tumambad sa akin, hindi mababakas ang paglipas ng panahon sa kanyang balat. Nagkatinginan ang aming mga mata. “Magandang gabi iha,” sambit niya kalakip ang isang matamis na ngiti. Sa mga oras na iyon, sobrang kaba ang aking naramdaman. Nakatanghod pa rin ako sa lalaking bumati sa akin. Siya na ay nakaupo katabi ang dalawang dalagita. Waring nagtagpo na ang aming landas noon. Pinipilit kong alalahanin kung kailan at saan, ngunit walang pumapasok na kahit ano sa aking isipan. “Uyy!Uyy! Beth, uyy!” paulit-ulit na sabi ni Bella habang niyuyugyog ako. Napukaw awng aking diwa sa pagtawag ni Bella sa akin. Sa sobrang lutang ng aking kaisipan, hindi ko napansin na nasa tabi ko na pala siya. Bihis na bihis at halata ang pananabik. “Halika na Beth! Bilisan mo! Kailangan na nating umalis hangga't maaga pa,” dali-dali naman akong nagtungo palabas ng tarangkahan. Sa aming pagbaba mula sa sasakyan, isang malaking gusali ang tumambad sa amin. Kulay ng kalinisan ang mababatid sa bawat sulok nito. Hindi maalintana na sa bawat apat na sulok ng kwadrado ay may buhay na tumatangis, nalulugas na mga pag-asa ang mahihinuha sa mga taong makakasalubong namin. Nagtungo na kami sa ikalawang palapag, sinusundan ko lamang si Bella kung saan siya pumunta. “Beth! Bilisan mo. Wala na tayong oras!” paghiyaw ni Bella habang ako naman ay palinga-linga sa paligid. Sa paghinto namin sa isang kwarto malapit sa dulo ng pasilyo, biglang bumilis ang tibok ng aking puso. Hindi ko maipaliwanag ang emosyong naglalaro sa aking kalooban. At nang binuksan ko na ang pinto, hindi ko na magawang makagalaw pa sa aking nasilayan, waring may nagbuhos ng nagyeyelong tubig sa aking kinatatayuan. Hindi ko maipaliwanag ang aking nadarama, tanging pagtataka ang bumalot sa aking kaisipan, “Papaano ito nangyari?,” ang tanging salita na lamang na aking nasambit. 60|Ellipsis
Symphony of the Kumintang By Troy B. Balbestamin
Setting: Pre-Spanish Era, Philippines Characters: Raja Tikda – tyrant leader who conquered neighboring barangays and governed with extreme cruelty Masjid – a young assassin belonging to the maharlika who believed in freedom Kasit – slave of the Raja Lakan Istao – elder maharlika who is influential; elder brother of Raja Tikda Gat Banai– former Datu of a barangay that was conquered by Tikda’s army Narrator: Philippines, 1267. Raja Tikda, a Visayan warlord, successfully conquered his neighboring villages after bloody wars. He ruled as a despot over the barangays. Civilians suspected of crimes and those who tried to oppose him were immediately executed without any trial. Years had passed and his power grew absolute. Since then, no one dared to act against him in fear of losing their lives. One typical night in his hut, the Raja was busy sharpening his weapons. Raja Tikda: Slave! Bring me my karambit, quick! (The karambit is a small Southeast Asian hand-held curved knife that resembles a claw) Kasit: Yes, Rajah. (Kasit rushes to fetch the weapon. Minutes had passed but the slave does not return) Raja Tikda: Slave?! Where is my karambit? Bring it to me now! (Tikda stands up to look for his slave but instead of Kasit, a masked stranger enters his room) Raja Tikda: Who are you, stranger? You know well that I am the Rajah and you are trespassing, I’ll have you executed for this! Masjid: It might be the other way around, Tikda. (Stranger removes mask and reveals his identity to the Rajah) Raja Tikda: What? Masjid? What is the meaning of this? Masjid: I’ve come to kill you.
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Raja Tikda: This is no joke. You come inside the Rajah’s house wearing a mask and threaten his life! Do not make me forget that you are a noble! Masjid: Do I look like I’m kidding here? (Draws his bolo still dripping with blood) Raja Tikda: You…you killed my guards! But how? This is outrageous! (Tikda attempts to draw his bolo but Masjid pointed his blade at Tikda’s throat to stop him) Masjid: Your slave guided me in, filthy tyrant. The once free people of the barangays are now slaves to your will! Raja Tikda: I don’t understand it! You are a noble, Masjid! What do you complain about? You live a comfortable and carefree life! Don’t you tell me you sympathize with the people?! Masjid: Yes, I am a noble. I will always be. However, tyranny is not my thing. Disgusting! Give up your throne and I shall spare your life! (Masjid pushes Tikda against the bamboo wall, still pointing his bolo at him) Raja Tikda: So you are a freedom fighter. How foolish. Before I conquered the barangays, they were quarreling and killing each other! Now that I am in authority, everything is peaceful and the society is starting to flourish! It is true that I am a tyrant, but I am no stupid leader! (Tikda kicks Masjid and draws his bolo to defend himself. Masjid recovers quickly and puts on his guard) Masjid: Peace attained through striking fear into people’s hearts is nothing but a stinking lie! You’re no fool, Tikda. I’m sure you know that peace is worthless without freedom. Rajah Tikda: Wrong! Freedom and peace cannot coexist in this world! You have to accept that! For as long as we are free, we will continue to breed chaos! (The two circled around each other with their weapons raised, watchful of the other’s movements) Masjid: Bathala gave the people freedom. You are not the one to take it away from them! Let the people find peace thorough the power of their own will! Rajah Tikda: Insane! Restoring the people’s freedom will only succumb the barangays to immorality, lawlessness, and chaos! There will be rampant poverty for the people will fail to run the economy. Corruption will grip the government and the society will be torn apart in the future! Don’t you see it, Masjid? It is better for one to sacrifice his conscience than let that happen! Masjid: Maybe you are right. Still, I won’t betray freedom. Bathala created us free and we should die free! (Masjid slices Tikda’s wrist to disarm him. He then charges forward and stabs Tikda in the chest) Rajah Tikda: Idiot… by killing me, you have doomed everyone. (coughs blood) You shall see. After some time, they will be killing, stealing, and betraying each other again and you will have no one to blame but yourself… (Tikda dies as Masjid withdraws the bolo from the Rajah’s chest) Masjid: I’ll guide them to prevent that. I will rule and I shall give them back their freedom. Rest in peace. (Masjid closes the eyes of Tikda as Kasit enters) Kasit: Is it done? Is Tikda dead? Masjid: He’s nothing but a cold corpse now. Kasit: Thank you so much, Master Masjid! I thought I will never get my freedom and everyone’s freedom back. Without you, Tikda could have reigned for decades! The people will be overjoyed and they’ll treat you as their savior! (Kasit bows down to Masjid) Masjid: It is my honor. Anyway, we better leave now and call for someone to clean this mess. Kasit: I forgot to tell you, the people are already waiting outside! Masjid: Already? Well, no problem. I will be more than glad to bring them the good news. (Masjid leaves the hut and Kasit follows) Masjid: (looks around the green plains) Where are they, Kasit? I thought they were already waiting. Kasit: Don’t worry, Masjid. They’re all here. Look! Masjid: Where? (Masjid turns around to see Kasit with a band of maharlikas) Is that all of them? Kasit: Yes, yes they are. (One of the mercenaries shoots an arrow through Masjid’s head and he falls down) Lakan Istao: Excellent work, Kasit. My brother’s soldiers will answer to me now. It’s time we take full authority. (Gat Banai and his soldiers enter the scene) Gat Banai: Not so fast, Istao. Now that Tikda’s tyranny has ended, our barangay will now stand for itself! We will not heed your call. (He pointed his spear towards Istao and his allies) Lakan Istao: If you won’t be a part of our territory, then you are an enemy! Slay them all! (Istao’s warriors charge towards Gat Banai’s force) Gat Banai: Brothers! Fight for your clan at the cost of your life! Charge! (Both forces engaged) Narrator: The war raged on. Soldiers spilled their blood on the earth and fought for their own purpose as the Symphony of the Kumintang played, echoing through the history of the nation from that day forth.
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Timebomb By Sarcastic Imp
Double pace stride, accelerate like a free night ride. Sweat drops burst from within. Hurry! The clock is furiously ticking.
Hours fly unnoticed; a raven in the dark. Days ran out from an insane dog’s bark. Don’t bother to groom; moments stolen by the lady on a broom.
Stumbling. The walls begin to crack. Dawn fast-forwarded to an intense black. I felt the pounding in my chest. It’s Sunday, the man deserves a rest.
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Street Child By Jennifer Ann Geronimo
Poor little girl, So ragged and worn; With no one to love her Since she was born.
So hungry for love, Yearning for acceptance, She did no wrong; Why suffer the penance?
Her hair so straggly, Her skin pale and ashen. Her poor face so void Of laughter and passion
Just compassion, she pleads Just a kind, loving gaze Just a moment of clarity Out of life’s foggy haze.
Bruise on her shoulder, Sears on her arms; but inside it hurts more Than any physical harm.
Poor little girl Unwanted, alone The ground is her mattress The sidewalk her home.
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Bilin ni Inay Ni Sisa
Kamusta? Nagsusulat ako gamit ang aking panulat para magsiwalat. Minumulat ang iyong mata sa tamang paguulat. Ako’y nagpapaalala sa iyo na ang bayan mo’y salat. Napapagod ka na bang mapagod? Huminga sa tamang paghinga; Umibig sa kaibig-ibig. Totoy, ang bayan mo’y hindi na musmos.
Ang mundo’y malapit ng tumuwad, Lalagapak na ito sa mata ng mga uhaw. Anak, ipaalala sa mga nagpapataw ng tanikala, Ang mundo’y hindi kanila.
Humayo ka’t ibalita sa kanila ang pagsulong. Isigaw sa kanila, ang iyong binubulong. Ang mundo’y makulay, para maging ilusyong tunay.
Ang pera’y nauubos, Hindi na tayo musmos para mamalimos! Sana iyo itong mailahad, Sa mga nagsisikap at naghahangad. Huwag niyo na akong samahin dito maghinagpis, Ako’y inyong ina anumang mangyari. Ang pagtangis kao’y huwag kaligtaan, Ito ang tanging hiling ng iyong inang bayan. Ellipsis|65
Awakened by awaited future
Jeannine Kate L. Estrabo
Virtual Reality By Alyzza Mharie Q. Librojo and Adrielle Jay M. Malixi
Like a courageous warrior he fights, Bravery and strength for his land’s right, Destroying anything that comes his way, It makes him guilty as hell but he survived the day.
Every motion simply stopped, As he pressed the Pause button on top. Checking the real world he belongs to, And reflect on thimgs which are true.
A hero to respect, they say, For his protection, his people pray, To save and rescue his princess.
He has no princess to save, Nor a villain to place on his gave. No mission to finish or fight for, No place to serve and protect or more.
In this game he’s the master of fate, Star of the story he himself creates. There everyone loves and cheers for him, All the boys want to be part of his team.
He is just a normal boy, Often unnoticed, his name is troy. A victim of bullying and cruelty, His life is but a virtual reality.
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Thirst for Pleasure By Coleen E. Navarro
Meekly standing by the window, Candlelight blink and flow. Authentic ardor of aura bare, A clasp of amity spare. As obscurity arouses in the vault of heaven, A harbor of silence fallen. Bells accede to eavesdrop, In a hoop hued of vast lollipop. An alliance of stars dazzle raptly. Divergent charms accord with plea. Crystal cosmos in pace ripple; Fancy world of mind tumble. 68|Ellipsis
Beyond Creation By Troy B. Balbestamin
Back when the world was young, two races embodied the balance of the world. The Damned, demented and merciless, were created to culture chaos and destruction. The Radiant, on the other hand, blessed the world with energy and life. For everything that was created, there was an equivalent destruction. That was the law that governs the balance of life. The Creator, who forever flew over the eternal space watched over as the two races served their purpose in peace... until Murgo sought domination. Murgo, chieftain of the Damned, influenced his people to wage war against the Radiant to prove that they are the dominant race. No one disagreed except for their champion, Deinos. They settled their conflict by a duel; whoever wins gains full authority over their people. The chieftain displayed sheer strength on every blow but all of it was futile for the champion was far more powerful. Murgo fell on his knees, awaiting the final blow that would end his life but it never came. Deinos showed mercy and stayed his blade but before he was declared winner, Murgo took the opportunity to strike him down. He grabbed tight on Deinos’ leg, pulled him down and knelt on his chest. With incredible strength, he landed a jab on the champion’s jaw, knocking him out of consciousness. After the treacherous chieftain was hailed the winner, the crowd cheered and all of the Damned bowed down. The war raged on as the Radiant struck back. Deinos was in the front lines and was fatally wounded. Murgo saw it as an opportunity to get rid of him but Deinos escaped by his remaining powers. Deinos took shelter in an isolated cave. But as he laid his back against the cold stone walls, he was disturbed by the echo of footsteps throughout the cave. Slowly, he stood up and braced himself. From the bright opening emerged Crisna, a Radiant. Her long blonde hair sparkled in a ponytail. She was tall and slim, with lips that resemble the hue of an old rose. Her fair complexion and her charm contradict her fierce and strong posture. “Poor Damned, your life ends here!” Crisna yelled, charging towards her enemy. Although fatally wounded, Deinos picked his blade and dodged the incoming attack. After she missed him, he instantly pounced her, neglecting the agonizing pain of his injuries. “A female?” Deinos was surprised when he saw the face of his attacker. “Why are you so surprised? Did you think the women of our race are weak? Then you’re wrong!” she caught the demon off guard and pushed him away. Deinos tried to strike back but Crisna was fast enough to disarm him, “Don’t even dare, fiend. It’s either Ellipsis|69
I take you as prisoner or I kill you right here. You choose,” she threatened him with her sword pointed on his neck. “Then kill me. If my kind will only end up as the destroyers of balance, then I wish not to be part of it,” Deinos said in a tone of shame as he walked towards Crisna, grabbed her sword, and aimed it on his heart. Her eyebrows crossed after what she heard. Hearing those words from a Damned was like hearing a snake roar. Unlike the rest of his kind, Deinos did not make her feel terror. After a moment of silence, she put the sword down and turned away. “Hurry up and get away from here. If my comrades see you, I’m afraid your life won’t be spared,” she implied but the Damned gave no answer. “What are you waiting for? Get away from here!” Crisna looked back only to see him lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. She was caught in a predicament. The desire of helping him seems to overcome her fears of being punished for betrayal. At one point she wanted to leave him in the cave alone to rot but something kept her from leaving him. Deinos was the only Damned whom she felt safe with. And so, she took him away from the battlefield and treated his wounds. After weeks of unconsciousness, Deinos woke up. He was greeted by the bright and beautiful face of Crisna. “Where am I? What did you do to me?” he asked as he stood up. “You were dying. I took you and healed your injuries. Do not worry, no one knows you are with me,” Crisna said in a low voice. Deinos has regained his strength. He can no longer feel the pain of his wounds. He looked at Crisna and gave her a deep stare, “Why? Why did you help me?” Deinos asked in his bafflement. “What you said back at the cave, was it true? Are you really different?” she asked in return. “I understand your doubts, Radiant. But yes, all of that was true. The balance of life must be preserved. I have done everything in my power to prevent this but I failed,” Deinos stated with his head bowed down and fists clenched. “Then you are not to be blamed. Truth be told, they deserve death’s embrace, not you,” Crisna said but Deinos did not respond, “I for one do not agree with this war. It is my desire to protect my kind that forced me to fight back,” she continued. “Even if it means defiling the balance of life?!” he mocked Crisna. “I don’t know. I guess the fate of this world is not in our hands anymore.” Suddenly, loud footsteps of iron boots clamor of steel filled the surroundings. Crisna grabbed on Deinos’ purplish hand tightly and they both escaped in a blink of an eye. Although unsure about trusting her, he felt a desire to protect her. Crisna, on the other hand, has grown weary of the conflict of their people and in Deinos, she saw refuge. The two strangers traveled alongside each other, concealing themselves from the eyes o f their warring races. 70|Ellipsis
The devastation that the two races had caused was tearing the world apart. The balance of life was completely destroyed and nothing could stop the war. While their races ran amok the surface of the planet, Deinos and Crisna developed a strong connection between them. The Damned and the Radiant who seemed to be impossible to reconcile a long time ago had been united, in the form of Deinos’ and Crisna’s blossoming friendship. But their unity was a little too late, for the world was soon to collapse. Frustration grew in Deinos as he watched the two sides tear each other apart. He knew that everything would end worse than he hoped it will. It was clear that the destruction was inevitable and there was nothing he can do about it. So instead of mourning for their doom, he turned to his Radiant friend and savored the forbidden love he felt for her. Crisna did the same. What she feared the most was to die in the battlefield with hate and anger in her heart. By her love towards Deinos, she had freed herself from the entire burden. Their love came into being. Life started to grow inside Crisna’s womb - twin hybrids of the Damned and the Radiant. As parents, they cannot accept the truth that their children would share the fate of their unfortunate world. They tried to devise plans to save their offsprings, but it seemed impossible. They built a home in the thick forest, on the feet of a rocky mountain, far from the war. It was the most tranquil place ever since the war started, untouched by chaos and destruction. They shaped the stones that comprise their house by their own energies. It was indeed small, but sturdy. Suddenly, the door of their house was smashed open. The Radiant had found them. They grabbed Deinos’ arms and they stabbed his chest with a long spear. The soldier sank the spear slowly through his body as he coughed blood. Crisna was motionless as her beloved Deinos was killed. She had only stared, unable to do anything as they placed a cuff on her hands. Crisna was taken and brought to her cell to wait for her execution but she knew that the world would already have ended before it happens. She lied on the wooden bed inside her jail, staring at the jewel that Deinos had given her. She mourned as she remembered what Deinos said to her moments before the Radiant came, “Take this jewel. It was given to me by my parents when I was young, as storage for my tremendous energies. Now, this jewel shall shelter the souls of our children and protect it until the day it grows. Our children must live, Crisna. They shall restore the balance of life!” A massive earthquake struck. The walls of Crisna’s cell collapsed and she escaped free. She saw catastrophe ravaging the world. Everything was about to end and she knew she had to act for the sake of her children and of the world. Crisna kissed the red jewel Deinos had given her. She knelt with her head bowed down and placed the jewel near her heart. “Go on my children, be brave and bold. With your life, a new world shall unfold. In your veins shall run the blood of creation and destruction. You shall respect balance and never again cause its devastation! We may have fallen, but our souls will forever guide you as you restore and protect the balance of this world! The first Nephilims!” she chanted as the souls of her children were stored on the jewel. Crisna clasped the jewel tightly. She closed her eyes and remembered Deinos as monstrous waves decimated everything in the Earth’s surface. Ages passed, the scars of the Earth healed and the world was reshaped. Mountains emerged and green fields and luscious forests covered the land. The world was alive once more. In the heart of a most beautiful jungle, the largest tree emerged. Two huge spheroid fruits grew on its branches. The fruits fell and slowly opened as two beings walked out. The balance of life was restored and the world was given another chance. Embodying the souls of both the Damned and the Radiant, the children of Deinos and Crisna, the redeemers of balance, the first humans were born. Ellipsis|71
Ninja Moves
Donna Trisha T. Romano
When friendship starts and refuses to end Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman
The bustle and the calm Kaye Ann P. Bernal
Engineering Prowess
Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus
Sa Likod ng mga Lente Ni Troy B. Balbestamin
Lagi kong naaalala ang mga panahong lagi kaming magkasama. Yung mga araw na magkakuntsaba kami sa mga kalokohan – mga araw na sabay kaming tumatawa sa mga bagay na kami lang ang nakakaalam, mga pagkakataong sabay kami umiyak dahil sa mga problema. Lagi kaming nandoon para sa isa’t-isa. Ang tawag pa nga namin sa isa’t-isa noon ay sina B1 at B2 ng Bananas in Pajamas. Korni man pakinggan, alam kong totoo ang aming pagkakaibigan. Minahal ko siya…ngunit bigla na lamang siyang nawala at ‘di na nagpakita. *** Magsisimula na ang kasalan. Handa na ang mga kagamitan ko. Nasa kondisyon na ang kamera at tansyado ko na ang mga tamang anggulo. Dumating na ang bride at naglalakad na siya sa gitna ng pulang karpet na puno ng puting rosas, kasama ang kaniyang tatay na naka-itim na Amerikana. Kahit sa’n pang anggulo ko siya kunan ng litrato, litaw ang kulay rosas niyang mga labi na hindi nilulubayan ng ngiti. Napakaganda 76|Ellipsis
niya. Mahaba ang maitim niyang buhok na umaalon at makinis ang kutis. At higit sa lahat, ‘sing ganda ng sa isang reyna ang suot niyang wedding dress. Kinuha ng groom ang kaniyang kamay na balot ng isang puting guwantes. Di rin maitatanggi ang kaligayahang ipinapakita ng lalaki sa kaniyang ngiti. Napakasaya siguro niya dahil makakaisang dibdib na niya ang babaeng pinakamamahal niya. Humarap sila sa altar at nag-umpisa na ang seremonya. Puspusan ang pagkuha ko ng mga litrato. Sinisiguro kong malinaw at kita ang ekspresyon sa mga mukha nila, dahil ‘yon ang mahalaga sa isang litrato, ang makita ang emosyon ng mga taong nandito. Ilang sandali pa ay natapos na ang sumpaan. “Maaari mo nang halikan ang ‘yong asawa,” batid ng pari at siya ngang hinalikan niya ang maganda niyang asawa. Sakto na ang anggulo at malinaw na ang litrato, ngunit hindi ko pa rin magawang pindutin ang shutter ng kamera. Nakatitig lang ako mula sa likod ng lente nito, hindi makagalaw at tuliro. Siguradong papagalitan nila ako sapagkat hindi ko nakuha ang isa sa mga pinakamahalagang eksena, ang pagtatagpo ng kanilang mga labi. Lumakas ang tibok ng puso ko at bigla akong kinabahan. Gayunpaman, patuloy ako sa pagkuha ng mga litrato. Masayang nagsalo-salo ang lahat sa reception habang tinutugtog ng orkestra ang theme song ng magkaisang-dibdib. Pinatunog ng mga tao ang kanilang mga baso upang udyukin ang mag-asawa na muling halikan ang isa’t-isa. Kailangan ko nang makuhanan ito ng larawan upang makabawi, ngunit hindi ko pa rin nagawa. Napakaganda na ng pwesto ko ngunit hindi ko nakuha ang litrato. Hindi ako nakagalaw at natulala na lamang mula sa likod ng lente. Siguradong bubulyawan ako pag nalaman nilang hindi ko ‘yon nakuhaan ng litrato. Matapos ang ilan pang mga seremonya at pagsasalita, natapos na ang kasiyahan. Nagsisiuwian na ang mga bisita. Nilapitan ako ng nanay ng bride, “Kamusta iho? Nakuhanan mo ba ang lahat ng eksena?” tanong niya. “Oo naman po, lahat,” pagsisinungaling ko. “Mabuti naman. O siya, kumuha ka na ulit ng mga litrato habang di pa umaalis lahat ng bisita,” wika niya saka muling nakipag-usap sa iba. Bigla akong tinawag ng bride, “Kuya! Pa-picture naman kami,” batid niya saka pumuwesto kasama ang kaniyang mister. Hindi pa rin nawawala ang ngiti sa kanilang mga mukha. Kinuhaan ko sila ng litrato. Ipinaglapit nilang muli ang kanilang mga labi para sa isa pang kuha. Lumapit ako dahil gusto nilang close-up ang litrato at hinagkan nila ang isa’tisa. Ayun! Nagawa ko ding punditin ang shutter ng camera. Napakaganda ng kuha ko sa kanilang litrato. Punong-puno ng pag-ibig at kaligayahan. Tumulo ang aking luha habang tinitignan ang maganda nilang larawan. Hindi niya ba ako naaalala? Mula noon hanggang ngayon ay iniibig ko pa din siya. Ellipsis|77
Latak Ni Polly
Dungis ng kapangyarihan ang dumadaloy, Kamangmangan sa lipunan marka ng salot. Musika ng kasalatan ang nasa kapaligiran, Tumatangis! Sagisag ang siyang saligan. Upuang mapaglinlang ay lipana, Yama't kapangyarihan ang nais itangan. Hubad na bayan ay bihag, tusong kamay ang katumbas. Nanlilimos na hangos ng kasarinlan, Lantang pag-asa inihasik sa silangan. Lumpong lipi sa lupa kumakapit, Bulag na katotohanan ang luwalhati . Pagdurugo ng laman, hapdi ang kasabay. O sulyap ng liwanag, kailan mababanaagan? Hinaing ng katarungan, kailan mauulinigan? Pusod ng kaginhawaan tanikala ang hiwaga.
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Ang Kapangyarihan ng aking panulat Ni Jennifer Ann Geronimo
Panulat… kabataan… mga simple ay pangkaraniwang salita na hindi na bago sa ating pandinig. Maraming kahulugan, malalim at may mahalagang kaugnayan sa kahihinatnan ng ating mga mahiwagang buhay. Pamilyar ka ba rito? Ito ang nagsisilbi nating madalas na sandata at matibay na pananggalang laban sa mga problema ng bansa tulad na lamang ng salot sa droga, milyun-milyong utang sa iba’t-ibang bansa at habas na patayan. Ang panulat ay nilikha para imulat ang ating mga mata sa katotohanan. Iniambag ito para ibahagi sa atin ang halaga ng mga pangarap ng bawat isa na kailanman ay di maaagaw at mababayaran ng kahit sino man. Ang tao ay may angking kahusayan sa iba’t-ibang larangan. Kung minsan ka nang nadapa, hindi ito dahilan upang tumigil sa pagpupursigi. Kailan ma’y walang umaasenso dahil sa pagtalikod sa mga dahilan kahinaan. Lumaban ka at makakamit mo ang tagumpay. Tayo, bilang mga kabataang may maliit pang tinig, na tiyak na hindi maririnig laban sa maingay, magulo at masalimuot nating mundo, Tama ka, ang panulat nating ito ay hindi pansinin, maliit at payak ngunit makapangyarihan. Ito ang susuporta sa atin upang makatulong sa ating mga munting paraan sa pagbuo ng isang bansang maayos, makatao, payapa at maka-Diyos. Bakit hindi natin pagalawin ang ating malawak at malilikot na imahinasyon at isulat sa pamamagitan ng ating mga munting panulat. Gisingin at imulat natin ang mga bulag at bingi sa katotohanang makabayan, sa pamamagitan ng ating malikhaing panulat.
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Palad at talampakan Ni Kiel C. Aranda
Kapwa humahalik sa putik ng kababaan, sa kanila’y nakatitik ang isang panambitan. Sugat ng pagkatisod sa bawat hakbang, likhang talinhaga sa ating nilalang. Pakikipagtunggali ng palad at Silang nagsakdal sa ating kapalaran
talampakan
siyang nabuwal upang tayo’y parangalan.
sa dusa at sakit ay pilit na lumaban.
Nalugmok, nabayubay sa kapaguran,
Ating pagkahimbing sa likha niyang
nang kamtin natin ang kaginhawaan.
tahanan, kanya na ring tuwa at katpahingahan. Tayong isinilang sa kasalukuyan, hunghang na pag-iisip ay huwag pamarisan Haliging sa kahirapa’y nadungisan, tanawin nating walang hanggan.
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Afterlife By Markz
In the depths of lonesome wisdom, Rays of light sifted through a kingdom. Sleeping thoughts rose from dullness, A war-torn city on ended darkness. As purple hues consume the sky, nighttime flocks flutter by. And like the promises they sow, the bow releases its arrow. Those lucent beams touched the grounds, Together, a maiden, happiness surrounds. With the colors of life, she spread. But the one life is about to end. For years, he dwelled in pain; his powers slowly drained. By the radiance, he lost his life. Now he remains in the afterlife. Ellipsis|81
Masaya’t kuntento sa ibabaw ng mundo
Bestfriend’s Lover Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus
Slope
By Kiel C. Aranda
A new hope, a different perspective, a glimpse of daylight from the nightfall - the only way that can bring humanity farther than it has ever gone before and higher than they were in the dawn. It is neither a cruise on a still and quiet sea, nor a journey through a straight and steady track, for its worth is measured in the gravity of pain that wound us deep and the extent of affliction that abandoned us in despair. How high will you build each rise you will take, and how far will you run with your pace? Journeys always come to an end, yet an end is always a beginning. But what always matters is how we crafted decisions and walked through our diverse paths. Human, how do you move along your slope? We are the player in the run of our lives. We rule ourselves; choose which way to go and decide how we are going to walk through the uncertainties of this world. Our freedom to choose how we press through the hindrances is the spirit of life, which granted us separate lifetime to live through. Our nature is unique; diverse from all of the other characters with our own distinctions to which we are known. However, not all of those characters go well with the world that we are in. We are bound to failures and disappointments, rejections from the imperfections that we didn’t wish for. The time I entered college, I never expected I would be the one crying in guilt that I should have done things better in the past. When deadlines get nearer, I always condemn myself and think that I should have devoted a lot of effort and spent my time well. Consequently, I would consume myself the entire nights working on piles of drawings, prototypes and research papers which really tired me. These habits merely made my eyes sag and almost drained me. It even came to the point where I almost had no clean 84|Ellipsis
clothes to put on until I got admitted into the hospital. Though it may look absurd, it meant that I got something to learn. Being an Architecture student not just presses you with the ways to achieve learning. More than that, it encourages us to value our lives. Now that I’m treading on a different path, I began to realize that life would be nothing but a dull and dreary avenue to go through without these. Surprises are far beyond our imaginations, and there will always be someone who will open up ventures for us. New opportunities give us appetite to begin a new race, for an odd course of erratic struggles that will surely wound your life and leave a scar which will serve as a proof that you were once a champion. Our family could be our greatest inspiration to carry on despite the trials that destroyed our faith and anguish that nearly tore our lives apart. But above all is the Almighty God who has the control of everything. We may never see a glimpse of His presence, yet the ways he make us feel His love us pours out a stream of undying hope when we feel desolate and alone. I was drowned too many times because of the pursuit of greater heights and farther distances. I knew that it was beyond the power given to me and badly within my dominating ego - that must not where our aspirations lead us to. There are instances when we are trying to find out why we grew up this way, and then begin to realize it has been our choice how and what we are now. In the countless battlefields, many choose to go to the farthest distance, sick of mounting themselves up; therefore, remaining attached to the dull road of tiresome journey; steadfast as they climb up straight to reach the summit, unmindful of the deceitful snares that can pound them to a worthless dust, just like how I used to be. However, there are some who walk patiently, who choose wisely. They keep on moving forward, upward, using time and energy as if it is their last spare. They always believe, for they always have hope. They always pray, for they know they will be answered. They always know how, when risk and trouble are around, to get along with the consequences of the stride they took. As humanity hoped for, we don’t want to get lost in a realm full of doubt and distrust. Our courage to escape troubles is one of the reasons why we front ourselves toward winning. As we decided which path to take and chose how to get through the slopes, we will begin to see how we rendered our life’s journey in a way, distinctively. Things that were considered artless might be the greatest single masterpiece you have in life. It will never fade nor shatter, because it was sculpted by every fall and strengthened by the joys you relished through it all. You might have traveled miles and it would seem that your journey has ended. You might say that you have already reached the summit after the painful climb through the heights. Still, you are the being who crafted your life, and you know yourself best. For us, choose to learn and persevere; ascend and build a track reinforced with faith and intelligence. The star in your life’s voyage is you, and your slope. Ellipsis|85
Fire and Furnace By Death Knight
When you’re in hell, you’re just down under; magma melts the strongest steel over and over. But once the trial of fire is done, what’s left is its true luster. Whatever spares you from the grave makes you stronger.
Scarlet - glowing color of a renewed blade. Sweat and blood gave birth to weapons of high grade. Confront your deepest fears; face each conflict laid, It’s you against the world in a neverending crusade. 86|Ellipsis
By the fiery flames our old selves are torn; It is inevitable for us to crash and burn. But take heart, for even a slain phoenix is reborn, back to life, glowing red and strong as we return.
Nais Ni Sisa
Nais ko lang naman, makuha ang ninanais ng ilan. Ako’y nagnanais na naisin din ng bawat pagnanais ng mga nagnanais. Hindi ako nagnanais na magmalabis, Ang nais ko lamang maging kanais-nais sa iyong pagnanais.
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Stigma By Kaye Ann P. Bernal
Society’s cancer grows severe, More contagious through the years; Even doctors still know no cure Until it has been transmitted among the poor. To whom should we toss the blame? Ignorance made our country lame; Vote seller inject more of this social malady Dying to seek the ultimate remedy. Trust not the politician’s deceiving face Sitting on the throne, grab taxes apace. No one dares to attest and raise his voice, Too late to realize they’ve picked the wrong choice.
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Halakhakan at Kadiliman ni Rogelio Manglicmot
Mga lansangang lunod sa kadiliman. Gabi’y kay lalim at kapwa’y kaydalang. Binata’y ginugulo ng pangamba. Sa isip ay laging nadidinig, “Wag ka nang mag-alala,” batid ni ama, “Mababayaran ko ang iyong matrikula.” Paglingon sa kanan ay napansin niya, Isang lalaking matangkad, sinusundan siya. Binata’y kinabahan, nagmadali. Lalaki’y biglang tumakbo’t humarurot. Nang siya’y maabutan, ito’y bumulong, “Toy, ibigay mo na ang laman ng supot.” Binata’y natakot sa dalang balisong. Subalit nagitla ng kaniyang makita, “Ikaw ba ‘yan, anak?” tanong ng lalaki. Dalawa’y lumubog sa katahimikan. Naghalakhakan at sabay naguwian. Ellipsis|89
Glimpse
Ran Jared P. Villanueva
Blessing to God By Shelljohn Marcus K. Marco
All people in this planet wanted to be successful A lot are wondering how to reach the top How did the others rise to be called great and successful? Is being knowledgeable enough to be on top? So tell me now, is that what it all takes? Because I don’t think so I know that you know it makes more than that You need to work hard to attain your goal. You need love to guide you You need to do your best so you won’t regret And lastly, you need to look back Look back and never forget. Those people who helped you along the way Those people who cared for you Never forget anyone or anything that helped you reach the top Remember, your attitude determines your altitude.
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I was
By Justin Estipona
I was a child who turned into a mysterious man Where all my thoughts were hidden in a small can I was a piece of paper turned into ashes That’s why, I have enormous amount of shyness I was a cherished great king Until I fell down at the ground like nothing I was an image of a face which is smiling Until I can’t smile ‘coz I’m dying I keep trying to become what I was, But I guess it’ll never come back from the past All the memories of greatness had lost And I’m wearing the shameful mask I never wanted to use But when I saw your glaze And you make this dark room into a wonderful place You taught me the way out from this scrambled maze And again, you put a smile on my face I can see now that I’m happier than before, ‘Coz you are the answer to my prayer I can now put away the darkness of my past ‘Coz I’m better now than what I was
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Masquerade By Leanza Z. Manalus and Michael C. Reyes
A waltz of hues brighten the night, Taking off the cloak out of my sight, I paced against my glossy silk gown. With different faces I smile, I frown. Behind this enchanting mask, secrets hide in the musk. True intentions perfectly hidden. No one ever noticed the beautiful maiden. Covered faces danced double to single, and strangers began to mingle. A gentleman lost in swirling patterns, eyes captured mine, which sparked like lanterns. By the time I joined the moving crowd, he sought me, veiled in a shroud. While the music plays in a slow pace, he was walking in towards my satin lace.
Puzzled, confused, I don’t know what to do, My heart pounding; leaving me with no clue. In a scenery where time suddenly stops. I wish every second will never lapse. As he tenderly invited me to dance, our hands touched and so created romance. We swayed in a melody; lost my melancholy. Then I thought you might be my destiny. Last notes of the music foretold the end. Will we see each other again, will our hearts mend? Can I see that face behind that visage? Or imagine last night’s image?
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Wanted: Prisoner 0588 Princess Rolyn R. Talento
Untold Stories
Donna Trisha T. Romano
Sweet Betrayal Michael Dy Buco
Zooming in the past Raymond C. Paborito
The Fingernail By L.N. Opetina
They were twenty-three in all. Federico could see the asphalt road two steps below when he turned to his right. He pulled a handkerchief from the right pocket of his pants and wiped with it the sweat around his face. He started from his cheek down to his neck. He examined his handkerchief and observed the dirt mark on the fold. “It’s from the black smoke around,” he thought, referring to the dirt. He opened his bag and searched something he could use against the heat. He easily found a manila folder and pulled it out for fanning. “There’s no sign of an impending rain,” he murmured. Like anyone else in the group, he wished for a rain shower or at least a cool breeze. The heat was unbearable. He wouldn’t be surprised to see very irritated person ready to throw a punch. It was eleven o’clock in the morning. Federico thought that the sun was perfect for those who loved sunbathing. He was, however, not in a beach to witness sunbathing folks. When he looked straight to the eyes of the person in front of him, the man returned a stare at him before retreating his sight down to the rusty floor. The guy was holding a battery-powered mini-fan that faintly blew air to the face. Federico thought of buying one for him. He saw some of its kind in the underpass when he was headed to SM Manila two days ago. In the meantime, though, he had no other option than to wave the manila folder…sometimes furiously. He turned his head to the left but only to see an elbow one inch away from his face. His reflex made him move his head to a safer distance. “Where did that elbow come from?” he continued murmuring but this time with humor to counter the
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uncomfortable frickly heat of the sun. He looked at the face of the burly guy sitting next to him. He would never pick a fight against him. The man was wearing headphones; his eyes were closed but his hands were clinging stickly iron bar wrapped with sweat and dirt from different hands. He looked farther to his left. He saw eight other people seriously waving either purchased or given fan. He recognized the face of a senatorial candidate in one cardboard fan. He looked again to the seat opposite to where he was seated. There were nine other persons aside from the one in front of him. They were furiously fighting the heat. One lady in her thirties caught his attention. The lady was holding two market plastic bags full of vegetables. She was wearing sunglasses, sporting rebounded hair, and uncomfortably hanging on with her butt on the very narrow space of the seat mercifully offered to her. The bench could spit her anytime soon like a chewing gum blown out of the mouth. She was squeezed between five persons to her left and four to her right. Federico noticed a small signage hanging just behind the driver’s seat. It read, “HUDAS NOT PAY.” Federico clearly remembered that he paid the fare ten minutes ago when the group was along V.Mapa St. in Sta. Mesa, Manila. “The pun!” he thought. “It’s not really funny.” The red embroidery hung on the signage. It has a message that sounds more of a prayer than just a design: God Bless Our Trip! He looked again to the right where he saw the Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital. Less than a minute later, he was already on the bridge. The driver of the jeepney where he was aboard shouted a question to the other jeepney driver. He was asking why there were a lot of people gathering on the bridge and why they were curiously looking down the slow-moving San Juan River. The other jeepney driver answered as if he had the first-hand information. He exclaimed that a dead man tied to a wide and thick styrofoam was dumped into the river. A cardboard was placed on the chest of the corpse. It had a message suggesting that the dead man was a drug pusher and should not be imitated. Federico clearly heard the conversation. In his thoughts he thanked the government for its efforts to subdue the criminals. The two passengers on the front seat alighted the jeepney and joined the crowd. The jeepney slowly moved forward and stopped to the red traffic light on G e n . Kalentong Street.
The dull surroundings lulled him to nap. He could barely hear the driver who shouted, “Pasig! Pasig!” to encourage pedestrians to come aboard. Finally, when the driver shouted, “Acacia Lane” to inform anyone of the place where they were, Federico gathered his senses and alighted the jeepney. He walkled straight to the 7-eleven to buy some refreshments. He hadn’t take his lunch yet. He bought bottled iced tea and siopao pork asado. He snugly sat in one corner inside the convenience store and
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stared blankly on the Shaw Boulevard. Between bites and sips, he examined his fingernails. Three days ago, he decided to trim his nails. Three days later, he was staring at his untrimmed nails. He blamed his sudden change of thought that eventually led to put his trimming of fingernails aside. He glanced to his left. There was a newspaper rack with five different newspapers. He could clearly read the major headline of the broadsheet. He stared at the front page and learned that the Philippines won a sea dispute case against China. He didn’t care much about the news. He moved his sight to the sidebar headline. He learned that almost three hundred people died in separate drug-related extrajudicial killing incidents in less than a month since the new administration started. He loved the news story. He wanted to claim victory over suspected criminals. He expected the number of similar incidents to spike in a few days. He remembered the conversation between two jeepney drivers on the bridge. He smiled. Federico scrutinized his fingernails once more. He focused on his index fingernail. Last May, he cast his vote. It was his first time. At the age of nineteen, he was so proud of himself. He even bragged to his friends who didn’t vote. He considered himself a very responsible citizen. Just right after he consumed the food and drink, his cell phone sounded and vibrated. He thought someone texted him. He wasn’t expecting any message. He pulled the phone out of his blue backpack to check any message. No one texted him. But there was a notification which read, “Your army is ready to take into battle.” It’s a notification from an on-line game Clash of Clans. He put his cell phone back where he pulled it and zipped his bag closed. He stepped out of the convenience store and hand-signaled a Boni Ave.-bound jeepney to tell the driver he wanted to get on. The jeepney didn’t stop. He felt so frustrated. He tried again on the next jeepney. It stopped. He stepped inside and he noticed that it’s already full. The driver insisted that the left bench could still fit one more passenger. He vigorously pushed his butt to fit on the seat. And . . . it did fir halfway. Minutes later, some passengers alighted in front of the Mandaluyong City Hall. He sighed in great relief. Two minutes later, he was home. He was riding on the clouds with a very attractive lady when his cell phone rang. The sound was loud enough to awaken him but he failed to answer the call. He checked the phone and read three missed calls. The phone rang again and it flung up when he was startled. Luckily, he acted like a seasoned action movie star and he caught the phone with his right hand. He answered the call. The voice sounded unfamiliar but the person on the line knew him by name. The voice, which sounded that of a woman, demanded him to meet her in front of Jose Rizal University. “Why?” he queried. “Who are you?” She hanged up the phone. At first, he hesitated. Then, his curiosity prevailed. He immediately left the boarding house. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the jeepney. Exactly four hours later after he arrived home, he had to leave again to face the uncertainty. He boarded the STOP&SHOP/Altura-bound jeepney. After less than thirty minutes, he alighted the jeepney and keenly searched for a familiar face in front of Jose Rizal University across the street. He carefully crossed the street. No one looked familiar to
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him. Then a firm touch on his left shoulder startled him. He turned to his back and saw a fierce-looking man who could easily win a fistfight against anyone of Federico’s size. He was expecting to see a woman, not this man. In a second or two, he recognized him. He was Lina’s husband. The man explained that Federico’s Aunt Lina was in the funeral homes. They had to go there immediately. When Federico, together with Bart, arrived at the funeral homes, he recognized his aunt whom she hadn’t seen for almost a year. Her wet eyes were closed. In plain view, she was static. Federico moved closer to her. He wanted to touch her unbraided hair but he was overcome by an unexplained feeling of anxiety that held his hand back. “Aunt Lina?” Federico finally said. Lina’s eyes suddenly opened. Federico stepped his right foot backward. He was confused. But Lina stood to hug him tightly. She cried even harder. “I thought something wrong happened to you,” he said. “What’s going on? I thought you were dead.” “Two bullets in the head. One in the chest. Packaging tape shut his mouth.” “What do you mean?” “Your brother is dead.” Then there was silence… for nearly a minute. When Lina removed her arms around Federico’s thin stature, Federico was eerily shaking. His older brother Nicko worked as a call center agent in Ortigas, Pasig. He was eight years his senior. Federico was still a student of criminology. They rarely saw each other though they lived in the same boarding house for the past two years since they arrived in the metro. Their parents passed away a year ago in Real, Quezon. Their father died first. Then their mother followed after a month. Cardiac arrest got them. “Why?” he managed to talk weakly. “Same question. I have the same question,” she replied. “They said he was dumped into the San Juan River,” pointing somewhere vaguely. “They called him drug pusher. A cardboard described him as such.” “Cardboard justice,” Federico thought. Then he suddenly shouted, “BUT MY BROTHER IS NOT A DRUG PUSHER! HE IS NOT EVEN A DRUG USER! I KNOW HIM MORE THAN ANYONE DOES!” Nicko had nothing to do with prohibited drugs. But who would tell whom that he was innocent? Who will believe whom? Federico covered his face with his palms. He cried in anger. He thought of owning a gun. He wanted to put bullets in the head of whoever killed his brother. He wanted to scream. He wanted to bring the culprit to justice, whatever that word meant. He clasped his palms together. He noticed again his untrimmed fingernails. He was no longer thinking of trimming them. Almost a month ago, the new administration vowed to fight crimes. Every day the number of the extra-judicial killings spiked. Federico remembered the words of his brother when they talked about the extra-judicial killing a week ago. “Is every extra judicial killing incident tantamount to the government’s failure to keep its promise to suppress crimes? Would it be better if the Filipino people were governed by laws and not by the brutes?” Those were rhetorical questions that Federico didn’t have to answer. However, he managed to say, “I support the government.” Federico started at his right index fingernail… helplessly. He could not smile. How could he? His brother was in the morgue. Then he closed his fists… firmly!
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We all have beautiful memories that we desire to keep forever. Photographs allow us to hold those memories like concrete objects, lasting for many years, fading but unchanging. Out of Focus is a collaboration of T.I.P. students who share the same passion in photography. We students, who, although failing to express ourselves through words, succeed in doing so through our pictures. The works of art included in this section will take you to different times and places, and give you a glimpse into other people’s lives. Each photograph depicts distinctive emotions expressed by the photographer and is to be interpreted by their audience.
jeanne h e a d pauline p h o t o g De Guzman r a p h e r S .Y. 2 0 1 5 - 2 0 1 7
Few students are genuine Paulo Miguel D. Vasquez
The meriment of a nature-filled life
Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman
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Naudlot na pangarap
Princess Rolyn R. Talento
The sufficiency in every slice Samantha Joy B. Biong 104|Ellipsis
Appreciated amidst night’s darkness
Sean Daniel A. Barranco
Living with something that comes from without Jeannine Kate L. Estrabo
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‘Til the next day comes Lady Claudette H. Ferrer
Circle of Life
Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman
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A single happy soul can seize the day Jeanne Pauline G. De Guzman
The beauty of solitude Chris Chua
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Lasting clothes caregivers
Princess Rolyn R. Talento
Remorse of a distant future
Princess Rolyn R. Talento
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Artists’ express their creativity and uniqueness through illustrations. Artworks stir the imagination of its audience to demonstrate artistic ability and personality. It has its own version of story to share as it creates a lasting impression on its viewers. Every masterpiece creates magic. It can heal one’s heart and transform sorrow to spark change in the way of perceiving the future.
dominic h e a d vincent A r ver T i s t S .Y. 2 0 1 5 - 2 0 1 7 Ellipsis|9
Last Chance
Donna Trisha T. Romano
Spirit of fidelity Dominic Vincent L. Ver
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Disturbance
Dominic Vincent L. Ver
Opportunity Dominic Vincent L. Ver
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Spring Love Michael Dy Buco
Next World of Innovation
Donna Trisha T. Romano
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Paranoia
Leanza Clarisse Z. Manalus
Urban Art
Dominic Vincent L. Ver Ellipsis|113
Creative photo manipulation uses visual images to compel our attention, entertain or persuade our minds. It aims to show realism by adding a sense of deception to an image and captivate our attention to reflect about the reality in our world. Furthermore, each of these masterpieces tells a different story which reflects the artist’ imagination. Perhaps, the pictures are limitless, wherein it embodies not just its visual appearance, but also the value behind it.
ran c h i e f jared l ayo u t villanueva a r t i s t
Defying Gravity Nicole D. Vergara
Unstrung Legato
John Jeremy S. Brotamonte Ellipsis|115
The Daydreamer Christopher L .Magsumbol
Realm of the fays
Marvy A. Zarate
116|Ellipsis
Moment of Courage
Ran Jared P. Villanueva
The Aquarium Daniel M. Fiedacan Jr.
Ellipsis|117