Manibela

ni: Mark Cavin Regorgo Debuho ni: Mico Ortega

Mga matang uhaw sa tulog, balbas at bigoteng lumago, dulot nang walang pahinga ng kahapong lumipas. Sunog na balat bunga ng matinding sikat ng araw. Mga ugat sa kamay na hinulma kasama ng manibela.“Hoy Peter, umuwi kana aba maawa kana man sa sarili mo anung oras na” biro ng kapwa Jeepney driver. “ Manahimik ka nga dyan Roger!, kulang pa yung pang matrikula ng anak ko,” ganti ni Peter habang humahalak-hak. “Bueno, mauna na ako Peter ingat nalang” “sige magiingat ka rin Roger” umungol ang makina, bumusina at kumaripas sa daan. Tinitignan ang sarili sa salamin, habang pinupunasan ang tagaktak na pawis. Pinagmamasdan ang litrato ng kanyang pamilya nakadikit sa salamin. “Kelangan ko na kumayod para sakanila” sabi ni Peter sakanyang sarili. Maghapong binabagtas ang daan. Sinusuyod kada lugar upang kumita sa ngalan ng kanyang pamilya.”Manong bayad po sa kanto lamang, parang namumukhaan ko kayo, Security Guard po kayo sa bangko diba?” tanong ng isang lalaki kay Peter na may halong tuwa.” Opo di kayo nagkakamali, pag may libre po akong oras na-raket po ako bilang Security Guard” sagot ni Peter

na tinig na mapagkumbaba. “Ganun po ba ang sipag nyo naman, magiingat kayo.”

Pinagmasdan ang kinita sa buong magdamag, dismayado sapagkat kulang na kulang pa rin ang kanyang kinita. “kelangan ko pa makaipon, Diyos ko, tulungan nyo po ako”. Sambit nya habang hinahaplos ang berdeng rosaryong nakasabit sa kanyang harapan. Ramdam ang pag kalam ng sikmura subalit iniinda nya sa kapakanan ng kanyang pamilya. Isang resemblasyon ng isang pader ng tahanan, matibay sa pag salag ng bawat unos na daraaan. Matayog upang makamit ang lahat ng pangarap. Binuhay ang makina at nagsimulang magpasada, kahit oras na upang magpahinga. “Kelangan kong makaipon, balang araw masusukilan din ang lahat ng paghihirap ko.” umaalab na determinasyon, sa kabila ng nararanasan ay nanatiling matibay. Nakita ang isang babae na nakatayo sa gilid nagaabang ng masasakyan.”Sakto”. hininto ang sasakyan sa gilid, sumakay ang Ginang. Ilang oras pa bago sumapit ang umaga “Ayos madami pang oras para makaipon” wika nya sa kanyang sarili. “Hoy manong dahan-dahan sa pagmaneho, Anak ng tupa naman!” sigaw ng pasahero. “Pasensya na po kayo Ma’am” sagot ni Peter. Walang gaanong sasakyan ng mga oras din yun, tanging ugong ng makina at tunog ng hangin lamang na pumapagaspas ang madidinig. “Manong para ho” sabi ng pasahero ilang sandali, ay pinihit ni peter ang manebela sa gilid, kasabay ang makabasag tengang matinis na tunog ng preno. Di sumayang ni-isang Segundo, magdamag na dilat upang kumita. Ngunit sa di inaasahang pangyayari. Isang binatilyo ang sumulpot sa harapan, di napansin ang rumaragasang Jeep. Sinubukang tapakan ang preno ngunit di kumagat at bumusina. “NAKO NALOKO NA!” Mabilis ang bawat pangyayare subalit sa gitna ng bawat segundong lumipas, humarap si Peter sa pinaka malaking desisyon. Ang buhay ng hamak na Jeepneydriver, kapalit ng isang binatilyo na maaaring balang araw ay maging isang susi upang mabuksan ang pinto ng kaunlaran, o buhay ng binatilyo kapalit ng kanyang buhay na may pamilyang umaasa sakanyang mga kamay. Bago mahuli ang lahat, nag desisyon na ibaling sa ibang direksyon. Isang malakas na lagabog ang nadinig, nagkalatat ang pira-piraso ng Jeepney. Sa pagmulat nakita ang litrato ng kanyang pamilya na naliligo sa sariling mga dugo. Kasunod ng pula’t asul na liwanag nakanyang na aninag sa pumipikit na mga mata.

Les Épines

by: Catherine S. Boarao Photograph by: Kathleen Louise Llanera Manipulated by: Harold Altamera

There was once a beautiful rose looking for her little prince. She wanders everyday around the garden to look for her lover. Rose brimmed deficiency herself with assurance of her own physical beauty. “Why am I not as fragrant as the Lily of the valley? Or as unique and amazing as the Bleeding-heart? Why am I not used in decorations as the Hydrangea?” the rose precariously asked herself. “Maybe, maybe if I find my little prince to love and take care of me, then I’ll become beautiful and at ease with myself.”

Every day, every night she searched for her lover – with the hope to

fill her heart. One day, a boy was wandering around the garden, he jumped joyfully towards the rose. “You’re beautiful and so red, I want to take you home” he grinned. When the rose heard this, she almost cry with happiness. After a long wait, someone finally appreciated her beauty. “Ouch!” the boy exclaimed as he saw blood drip from his finger. “Your thorns are very hideous!” he shouted to the rose as he leaves with exasperation. When the boy left, the rose cried terribly, despising her thorns. “Why do I need to have these ugly thorns?” she pathetically whimpered. “Maybe, maybe if I find my little prince to love and care for me, then I’ll finally become beautiful and contented”, she dismally smiled. While the butterfly was looking for a flower in the garden to drink some nectar, he saw how beautiful the petals of the rose are becoming, the dark crimson rose was being protected by her thorns from pests. He was happy to gaze at the stunning beauté of the rose. “Reine du jardin” he said, he was so glad with the existence of the rose, but she wasn’t.

In the afternoon, a boy approached the rose, “You are so beautiful, my dear rose”. The little prince shed a tear with excitement to see the beauty of the rose. With the fear that her thorns will hurt him, the rose requested the little prince to put her in a glass dome. In the crack of the dawn until the nightfall, he watched her with awe, admiring her physique. It was ecstatic but it was asphyxiating. The rose needed water and air to breathe, her petals are turning brown. Kindly remove this glass dome now, I need to breathe”, the rose wearily said. “Why do I have to remove it!? I’m already okay with it. I don’t want to be hurt by your despising thorns”, the little prince angrily said. He thrown with rampage. Please, I need to breathe”, the rose begged.

The little prince removed the glass dome and was ready to strike the rose for his disappointment. Little by little, the rose saw drops of blood from the little prince’s hand.

The rose cried with incredulity, her thorns protected her from her perpetrator. The boy whom she though as her little prince left. Her thorns, which she loathed were the ones who protected her.

The butterfly went to the rose again and flew around her petals. He touched her thorns and said, “Reine du jardin, Queen of the garden.” “Your thorns made you fiercely beautiful, that’s what made you unique and the queen of all, you don’t need a little prince to make you who you already are”, the butterfly added.