This is another minisode of School Rumble which I really liked so eto, magkukwento na naman ako! (Pag di ko ma-capture ung saya at damdamin ng kwento, panuorin nyo ung anime!) =)
Hayyy, nanlulumong pinagmasdan ni Tenma ang mga butil ng ulang nag-uunahang bumagsak sa harapan ng kanilang bahay. Si Yakumo naman (nakababatang kapatid ni Tenma na malayong mas matured sa kanya) ay abala sa pag-aayos ng lamesa.
“Ate, baka hanggang mamayang gabi pa daw ang ulan,” may pag-aalalang sambit ni Yakumo sa kapatid.
“Hay naku, malabo palang makanuod kami ng meteor shower ngaung gabi,” nakalabi si Tenma. Maya-maya’y tinawagan na nya ang mga kaibigan (Eri, Mikoto at Akira) upang sabihing di na sila matutuloy sa shrine. Doon nila planong panuorin ang meteor shower. Bihira lang magkaroon ng meteor shower kaya naman tanghali pa lang ay nagplano na silang mag-star gazing ng sama-sama. Nakalista na nga ang mga wishes ni Tenma. Dapat kasi mabangngit ng apat na ulit ang wish bago maglaho ang wishing star para magkatotoo ito. Pero eto nga, umulan naman.
Maya-maya pa’y nakatulog na c Tenma sa lapag.
Sa shrine, mag-isang naglalakad si Karazuma (ang lihim na pag-ibig ni Tenma), suot ang kanyang kapoteng pagong. Sa pagitan ng mga ulap ay may isang wishing star na dumaan. Saglit na tumigil cia sa paglalakad at animo’y humiling.
Maya-maya pa’y umaliwalas na ang langit.
Si Eri na nasa veranda ng kanilang mansion ay nakangiting nagtaas ng toast sa mga nagdadang wishing stars. Si Mikoto naman ay nakatanaw sa bintana ng kanyang kwarto, pinanunuod ang mga wishing stars at maya-maya’y makahulugang napalingon sa nakabukas na bintana ng kanyang childhood friend na si Hanai, ang pinakamatalinong lalaki sa kanilang klase. Si Tenma? Ayun, tulog pa din, di magising kahit pa yugyugin ng kapatid.
Noon lang napansin ni Yakumo ang nakalatag na mga piraso ng papel sa lamesa. Yun ang mga wishes ni Tenma.
Wish # 1. Sana maging magkaibigan kami ulit ni Karazuma.
Wish # 2. Sana makakain ako ng maraming masasarap na pagkain.
Wish # 3. Sana matanggal ang English subject... pati na din Math.
Wish # 4. Sana maging mas mabuti pa akong kapatid kay Yakumo. Sana maalagaan ko syang mabuti.
Natigilan si Yakumo sa hiling ng kanyang ate. Oo nga’t isip-bata ang kanyang kapatid, subalit lagi sya nitong prinoprotektahan mula pa pagkabata, nung nawala ang kanilang mga magulang. Kaya naman mahal na mahal nya ang kanyang Ate Tenma.
Di na ginising ni Yakumo ang kapatid. Sa halip, lumabas cia ng bahay at pinagmasdan ang langit, sabay sambit ng kanyang hiling.
Samantala...
Tulog pa rin c Tenma… “heeheehee… sino’ng tatay mo?”, sambit nya nung bumiling. “Zzzzzzzzzzz”.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Wishing Star
AMONG THE TWINKLING STARS
Inuyasha’s episode last weekend was excruciatingly heartbreaking. It totally wrecked my heart. I already knew that Kikyo was gonna die, I read the manga for crying out loud! And yet, there I was, my sobs escaped my throat and tears were literally pouring down my cheeks. I never cried as hard as that since I got broken-hearted in the real world!
I think though that it wasn’t Kikyo or Inuyasha’s pain that I cried for - the one who is leaving her love behind and the one who will be left behind, never to see the girl he loves most ever again. No, my tears weren’t for them.
I think I cried for Kagome. It was her pain that I felt the most. She was standing there blaming herself for not being able to save Kikyo, while watching Inuyasha all broken for not being able to protect Kikyo.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha asked everyone to leave him and Kikyo alone for the moment. Inuyasha held the dying priestess in his arms. Their last conversation was about the days they were together – when Inuyasha was willing to become a human to be with Kikyo, and Kikyo was willing to give up the shikon jewel to become an ordinary woman and be with Inuyasha. Kikyo said, “I’ve finally become an ordinary woman”.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha cried, confessing that she was the first woman he ever cared for, yet he couldn’t save her. But Kikyo smiled at him said it was enough that he was there for her.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha, with tears running down his cheeks, kissed Kikyo’s lips sweetly and lovingly. But there, Kikyo breathed her last, warm on Inuyasha’s lips. Then her soul, bright and warm, was taken to the skies by her soul collectors.
The episode ended with Inuyasha’s words, “I never wanted to see Kikyo sad again, I wanted to protect her forever.”
He loved her so. The bond between them was never broken – the bond that Kagome cannot infringe upon. He never stopped loving her nor did Kikyo stop loving him. Perfect pair huh. Kagome knew that but still loved Inuyasha anyway. That’s why I feel her pain so much – I used to know how it is to be a second choice.
I won’t take away that moment from Kikyo though. She went through a lot. She lived a really sad life. And she deserves, at the very least, to die in the arms of the man she loved most.
I think though that it wasn’t Kikyo or Inuyasha’s pain that I cried for - the one who is leaving her love behind and the one who will be left behind, never to see the girl he loves most ever again. No, my tears weren’t for them.
I think I cried for Kagome. It was her pain that I felt the most. She was standing there blaming herself for not being able to save Kikyo, while watching Inuyasha all broken for not being able to protect Kikyo.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha asked everyone to leave him and Kikyo alone for the moment. Inuyasha held the dying priestess in his arms. Their last conversation was about the days they were together – when Inuyasha was willing to become a human to be with Kikyo, and Kikyo was willing to give up the shikon jewel to become an ordinary woman and be with Inuyasha. Kikyo said, “I’ve finally become an ordinary woman”.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha cried, confessing that she was the first woman he ever cared for, yet he couldn’t save her. But Kikyo smiled at him said it was enough that he was there for her.
I felt Kagome’s pain when Inuyasha, with tears running down his cheeks, kissed Kikyo’s lips sweetly and lovingly. But there, Kikyo breathed her last, warm on Inuyasha’s lips. Then her soul, bright and warm, was taken to the skies by her soul collectors.
The episode ended with Inuyasha’s words, “I never wanted to see Kikyo sad again, I wanted to protect her forever.”
He loved her so. The bond between them was never broken – the bond that Kagome cannot infringe upon. He never stopped loving her nor did Kikyo stop loving him. Perfect pair huh. Kagome knew that but still loved Inuyasha anyway. That’s why I feel her pain so much – I used to know how it is to be a second choice.
I won’t take away that moment from Kikyo though. She went through a lot. She lived a really sad life. And she deserves, at the very least, to die in the arms of the man she loved most.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Nikujaga or Curry?
Hi, this is an episode of School Rumble Season 1 retold my way, following the same mood I got into while watching the ep. This is pure indulgence but I really liked the ep. Hope u wl 2 =)
She put her school shoes back in her locker and took the other pair out. She’s going home early today - Eri Sawachika, the pretty blonde girl in pony tails who is perhaps the richest high school girl in the campus.
Just then, a boy from another section approached her and introduced himself, a little too confident facing someone like Eri, who has the notorious reputation of having busted every single guy at the first sign of courtship. But she isn’t her snobbish self today, rather she’s light-hearted, with a slight smile that never left her lips.
She answered her admirer, “which do you prefer, nikujaga or curry?”.
The boy was flattered, thinking Eri was actually interested in him. “ Nikujaga, of course. You’re so kind to think of cooking my fave dish for me”. (Yeah, too confident).
“Actually I’m cooking it for someone else.” Eri grinned, “Bye!”, and hurried out of school. The boy was left to the teasing of all his spectators.
This is her first shopping trip, and her first time to try to cook something for someone. She could still recall the ingredients she and her friends talked about earlier that day.
Just then, she overheard a child talked to her mother, “this is dad’s favorite dish, right?” “Yes, it is”, the mother answered. She felt good hearing that, “dad’s favorite dish”. She spent a few days asking boys around the campus what their favorite dish was, and the result of her poll was nikujaga.
When she stepped out of the grocery store, a luxury car stopped alongside her. She recognized it at once. “Did u come to pick me up, Dad?” she asked enthusiastically. “No Eri, I got an emergency meeting out of the country so I have to leave now. I won’t be coming home for a while,” her father answered. “It’s ok dad”, she smiled, “I understand. Please take good care of yourself”.
She waved her hand while holding her smile in place. Then the car was out of sight and she couldn’t hold it anymore. She bowed her head and the rain started to pour - cold and wet down her golden hair but warm and abundant from her cheeks down to her bosom. Her shopping bag was dripping wet but there’s no use saving it now – the person she intended to cook it for is already out of sight. Maybe in a few months, she’ll get a chance again, such were her thoughts.
A while after, the rain stopped falling where she stood. She looked up and saw a familiar face – Harima Kenji – the school bully whom she hated so much for openly blurting out that he hates blonde girls especially those who wear pony tails. Harima was holding an umbrella above her.
“You’ll get sick if you stay in the rain” said he in an unusual calm manner. Usually, they’d shout at each other at first glance. “I’ll walk you home”.
And they started to walk together. The rain poured harder but around Eri, the atmosphere felt warmer..
“Which do you prefer”, Eri looked up to Harima, “nikujaga or curry?”
“Curry”.
“Yeah, I thought so”.
= end =
Note: Nikujaga (肉じゃが?) (meaning meat-potato) is a Japanese dish of meat, potatoes and onion stewed in sweetened soy sauce, sometimes with ito konnyaku and vegetables.
She put her school shoes back in her locker and took the other pair out. She’s going home early today - Eri Sawachika, the pretty blonde girl in pony tails who is perhaps the richest high school girl in the campus.
Just then, a boy from another section approached her and introduced himself, a little too confident facing someone like Eri, who has the notorious reputation of having busted every single guy at the first sign of courtship. But she isn’t her snobbish self today, rather she’s light-hearted, with a slight smile that never left her lips.
She answered her admirer, “which do you prefer, nikujaga or curry?”.
The boy was flattered, thinking Eri was actually interested in him. “ Nikujaga, of course. You’re so kind to think of cooking my fave dish for me”. (Yeah, too confident).
“Actually I’m cooking it for someone else.” Eri grinned, “Bye!”, and hurried out of school. The boy was left to the teasing of all his spectators.
This is her first shopping trip, and her first time to try to cook something for someone. She could still recall the ingredients she and her friends talked about earlier that day.
Just then, she overheard a child talked to her mother, “this is dad’s favorite dish, right?” “Yes, it is”, the mother answered. She felt good hearing that, “dad’s favorite dish”. She spent a few days asking boys around the campus what their favorite dish was, and the result of her poll was nikujaga.
When she stepped out of the grocery store, a luxury car stopped alongside her. She recognized it at once. “Did u come to pick me up, Dad?” she asked enthusiastically. “No Eri, I got an emergency meeting out of the country so I have to leave now. I won’t be coming home for a while,” her father answered. “It’s ok dad”, she smiled, “I understand. Please take good care of yourself”.
She waved her hand while holding her smile in place. Then the car was out of sight and she couldn’t hold it anymore. She bowed her head and the rain started to pour - cold and wet down her golden hair but warm and abundant from her cheeks down to her bosom. Her shopping bag was dripping wet but there’s no use saving it now – the person she intended to cook it for is already out of sight. Maybe in a few months, she’ll get a chance again, such were her thoughts.
A while after, the rain stopped falling where she stood. She looked up and saw a familiar face – Harima Kenji – the school bully whom she hated so much for openly blurting out that he hates blonde girls especially those who wear pony tails. Harima was holding an umbrella above her.
“You’ll get sick if you stay in the rain” said he in an unusual calm manner. Usually, they’d shout at each other at first glance. “I’ll walk you home”.
And they started to walk together. The rain poured harder but around Eri, the atmosphere felt warmer..
“Which do you prefer”, Eri looked up to Harima, “nikujaga or curry?”
“Curry”.
“Yeah, I thought so”.
= end =
Note: Nikujaga (肉じゃが?) (meaning meat-potato) is a Japanese dish of meat, potatoes and onion stewed in sweetened soy sauce, sometimes with ito konnyaku and vegetables.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A HOME TO RETURN TO
4-day vacation in the province is an effective work-detox, I still can’t shift to full work mode until now. I arrived in Manila just this am and I just can’t shake off the relaxing ambiance Quirino Province gave me. I’m lucky I have a province to go home to, a home to return to (emo mode on!).
Quirino province is part of Cagayan Valley. Living in a valley means being surrounded by lotsa lotsa mountains. Everywhere I looked around me as a child, I see towering mountains, endless ranges – the Sierra Madre on one side and the ones that separate us from Aurora on the other side. I often wondered why these mountains looked so blue when trees are supposed to be green. Then I came to a conclusion: maybe because the clouds are casting shadows on them? Coz on the other parts of the mountains where the sun is directly shining on, the shade is greener, lighter.
There is so much to miss back there:
Quirino province is part of Cagayan Valley. Living in a valley means being surrounded by lotsa lotsa mountains. Everywhere I looked around me as a child, I see towering mountains, endless ranges – the Sierra Madre on one side and the ones that separate us from Aurora on the other side. I often wondered why these mountains looked so blue when trees are supposed to be green. Then I came to a conclusion: maybe because the clouds are casting shadows on them? Coz on the other parts of the mountains where the sun is directly shining on, the shade is greener, lighter.
There is so much to miss back there:
- The clouds touching the mountain tops
- The cold breeze (certainly more pleasant than aircons!) that carries the after-harvest smell of the ricefields
- The bulky trees along the road that make the wind chilly and refreshing but at the same time, block the sharp curves ahead! hehe
- The brooks along side the roads half-hidden by the bushes and the trees (i went swimming on some of them when I was but a kid)
- The mosquitoes? hehe (I definitely prefer them over the mice and the cockroaches of the city!)
- The peace, the silence – there are but few vehicles passing the highway, no people strolling around except for some kids playing on the barangay road
- Shall I continue? the list might drag on!
There is really nothing special about our province – no special delicacies for pasalubong, no special products or weavings or carvings; the only nice places we have are the caves, some hidden water falls and I think we have rapids too, but these sites haven’t been the kinds that would invite lotsa tourists over. But like what the Little Prince said about his rose.
"To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.”
The only thing special about Quirino is that it is MY province. It houses the most precious of my memories – the times I wondered, the questions I asked as a child, the framework of the dreams which I am now beginning to realize in the city, and more importantly, the people I will never get tired of getting excited to see again – my family.
I so love vacations! =)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Beautiful Souls
I had a friend who is very kind, intelligent in both temporal and spiritual measures and has a faith in God unshaken. I once heard our bishop describe this friend as someone who is such a beautiful soul. Those 2 words are perhaps the highest form to express admiration towards someone. I’d like you to meet some of the beautiful souls I’ve been privileged to meet in my life.
Micah. She’s my youngest sister. She was just 3 then. We were riding at the back of our owner-type jeep and she was sleeping in my lap. It was very cold and since it’s a jeep, we could feel the cold wind from the outside. I took off my jacket and placed it over her to protect her from the cold. A little while after, I felt her hand tugging mine. She was pulling my hand towards the inside of the jacket I used to cover her so I’d be protected from the cold wind too. While I was trying to look after her, my little sis was trying to look after me too. Such kindness and care, that’s surely something warmer than a jacket.
Elijah. I used to teach the children in Church – Scripture stories, lessons, Church songs among others. Elijah was 7 during that time. He’s a hyperactive kid that’s always alert and on-the-go. Often, when I start telling a story from the Scriptures, he’d talk in his seat and tell the story from where I stopped – no details missed. After sometime, we split the classes and I started to teach 8-11 yr olds only. The split was made so that the older ones who can handle longer classes will be able to concentrate with the lesson while the younger kids do stuff that interest them more like drawing. Elijah still stole into our classes sometimes, only to give his big sister a really tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. I’m thinking Elijah would surely grow up to be a fine young man.
The primary children. One Sunday after primary (children) class, the children were out playing basketball (with a smaller ball I think). We were trying to stop them but you know children, they are BOSS . Then the ball got stuck on the left top of the metal ring of the basket. The children threw everything they had but none managed to get the ball down. They even asked helped from a father but to no avail. So I came to the rescue. I stood exactly below the ring, took off my right sandal and threw it straight up… And down went the ball… and oh my, did the children scream! They altogether rushed towards me to hug me. I stood there overwhelmed with their joyful screaming and awe. The inside me was saying, wow! you just looked uber-coool in front of these kids! But the more important part is that I felt their affection for me. With no inhibitions they hugged me. I cared for these children deeply and to have the chance to do something that will bring me closer to them and somehow have that feeling returned in a way is an experience I’ll always treasure.
Micah. She’s my youngest sister. She was just 3 then. We were riding at the back of our owner-type jeep and she was sleeping in my lap. It was very cold and since it’s a jeep, we could feel the cold wind from the outside. I took off my jacket and placed it over her to protect her from the cold. A little while after, I felt her hand tugging mine. She was pulling my hand towards the inside of the jacket I used to cover her so I’d be protected from the cold wind too. While I was trying to look after her, my little sis was trying to look after me too. Such kindness and care, that’s surely something warmer than a jacket.
Elijah. I used to teach the children in Church – Scripture stories, lessons, Church songs among others. Elijah was 7 during that time. He’s a hyperactive kid that’s always alert and on-the-go. Often, when I start telling a story from the Scriptures, he’d talk in his seat and tell the story from where I stopped – no details missed. After sometime, we split the classes and I started to teach 8-11 yr olds only. The split was made so that the older ones who can handle longer classes will be able to concentrate with the lesson while the younger kids do stuff that interest them more like drawing. Elijah still stole into our classes sometimes, only to give his big sister a really tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. I’m thinking Elijah would surely grow up to be a fine young man.
The primary children. One Sunday after primary (children) class, the children were out playing basketball (with a smaller ball I think). We were trying to stop them but you know children, they are BOSS . Then the ball got stuck on the left top of the metal ring of the basket. The children threw everything they had but none managed to get the ball down. They even asked helped from a father but to no avail. So I came to the rescue. I stood exactly below the ring, took off my right sandal and threw it straight up… And down went the ball… and oh my, did the children scream! They altogether rushed towards me to hug me. I stood there overwhelmed with their joyful screaming and awe. The inside me was saying, wow! you just looked uber-coool in front of these kids! But the more important part is that I felt their affection for me. With no inhibitions they hugged me. I cared for these children deeply and to have the chance to do something that will bring me closer to them and somehow have that feeling returned in a way is an experience I’ll always treasure.
What’s inside my vault Part II
Family Values
In my family, there is another tradition that I miss - the mano-before-bedtime tradition. When we were young, we’ve been taught by mommy and daddy, that we should pray before we sleep and then make mano to them after praying, the off to bed. I really think it’s a beautiful tradition. However, its strength and weakness lie on the same precept – the family must be at peace before bedtime for this system to work. Let me illustrate.
There was one particular night when I had sama ng loob towards my parents because they scolded for something that I am not convinced is my fault. I felt bad about going over to them to mano while harboring this sama ng loob. So I had to reconcile within me, expand my understanding (I was in elementary then, still immature) of the situation so I could forgive them. Praying really makes one feel ok, that I learned for sure because after praying, I had the courage to go them and mano. I think my parents knew how bad I felt before that because their smiles were somehow brighter that evening and we all went to sleep with light and cheerful hearts.
In my family, there is another tradition that I miss - the mano-before-bedtime tradition. When we were young, we’ve been taught by mommy and daddy, that we should pray before we sleep and then make mano to them after praying, the off to bed. I really think it’s a beautiful tradition. However, its strength and weakness lie on the same precept – the family must be at peace before bedtime for this system to work. Let me illustrate.
There was one particular night when I had sama ng loob towards my parents because they scolded for something that I am not convinced is my fault. I felt bad about going over to them to mano while harboring this sama ng loob. So I had to reconcile within me, expand my understanding (I was in elementary then, still immature) of the situation so I could forgive them. Praying really makes one feel ok, that I learned for sure because after praying, I had the courage to go them and mano. I think my parents knew how bad I felt before that because their smiles were somehow brighter that evening and we all went to sleep with light and cheerful hearts.
What's inside my vault
In the movie Richie Rich, the contents of the secret vault of the richest family in the world were revealed. Surprisingly, the so-called treasures of the Rich family weren’t diamonds or jewelries or money – instead, inside the vault were mementos of their achievements and most unforgettable moments – Richie’s first bike, photo frames of Richie when he was but a small kid, his first step, his first baseball, his father’s first golf club, and similar stuff.
In my first attempt at blogging, I’ll let you in my own little vault – where my treasures are; treasures which I picked along the road of my life and managed to keep ever since. Indeed, I do not mean physical treasures, rather, teachings or experiences that I picked from the people around me, and helped mold me into who I am now.
My Legacy from my Daddy
There was a time in my high school when I feared my father’s expectation. Back then, I joined lots of contests and won half of them I think. Every time I won, my parents were very proud of me. I loved it when I come home looking casual and then I suddenly break the news, “I won!” and see in their eyes the undeniable celebration and pride. On the other side, I feared that they be disappointed if I lose. There was this one contest when my daddy was so sure I would win, and then I lost. I was so sad I couldn’t go home to tell them the result. I was afraid of disappointment. But headstrong as I always am, I faced my predicament head on. I went home and told them that I lost. Do you know what my father told me?
He put his arms around my shoulder and said, “ganyan talaga anak, ginawa mo naman ang best mo”. And from there came my father’s greatest teaching to me, do your best in anything, if you did your best, you’ll have no regrets no matter what the outcome is. But more importantly, I learned to never fear expectation, especially not from my family. Because in my family, there is no expectation, there is only sharing of joy in times of victory and acceptance in times of failure. Now I have a more concrete definition of a home. Indeed, a home is a place you can return to and would love to return to (got this one from Naruto J); a home is a place of refuge (this one’s from our Scripture study class). I’d say this with surety: my parents are the two people in the world that I will always need, I will always depend on, I can be independent of anyone else.
In my first attempt at blogging, I’ll let you in my own little vault – where my treasures are; treasures which I picked along the road of my life and managed to keep ever since. Indeed, I do not mean physical treasures, rather, teachings or experiences that I picked from the people around me, and helped mold me into who I am now.
My Legacy from my Daddy
There was a time in my high school when I feared my father’s expectation. Back then, I joined lots of contests and won half of them I think. Every time I won, my parents were very proud of me. I loved it when I come home looking casual and then I suddenly break the news, “I won!” and see in their eyes the undeniable celebration and pride. On the other side, I feared that they be disappointed if I lose. There was this one contest when my daddy was so sure I would win, and then I lost. I was so sad I couldn’t go home to tell them the result. I was afraid of disappointment. But headstrong as I always am, I faced my predicament head on. I went home and told them that I lost. Do you know what my father told me?
He put his arms around my shoulder and said, “ganyan talaga anak, ginawa mo naman ang best mo”. And from there came my father’s greatest teaching to me, do your best in anything, if you did your best, you’ll have no regrets no matter what the outcome is. But more importantly, I learned to never fear expectation, especially not from my family. Because in my family, there is no expectation, there is only sharing of joy in times of victory and acceptance in times of failure. Now I have a more concrete definition of a home. Indeed, a home is a place you can return to and would love to return to (got this one from Naruto J); a home is a place of refuge (this one’s from our Scripture study class). I’d say this with surety: my parents are the two people in the world that I will always need, I will always depend on, I can be independent of anyone else.
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