Tumbang Preso
About this site
Tumbang Preso (meaning, knock down the jail) is a game of arrests and escapes where each player's life
chances depends on the toppling of a tin can watched by a tag who plays guard.
chances depends on the toppling of a tin can watched by a tag who plays guard.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Sunday, August 17, 2014
There’s a blackened patch of earth in the landscape of my
mind as far as home is concerned. When I think of it, I don’t even want to see
anyone from high school. I guess I have lived for so long in Kerala I could not
tell people anymore what I think of high school reunions. But that the smartest
should be sitting in the town council is a piece of glad news, and I would have
been gladder if they made it to the mayoralty and vice mayoralty. Conversation
always wind up to high school reunion, and our jolly batch of 1980 graduates,
my cousin who lives in town, reported to me, topped the bill in the
fund-raising. Your batch is the richest, with the guys in America contributing
thirty thousand pesos each and an engineer now in Cebu donating another thirty.
And as the class treasurer reported to me, the hundred thousands in donation
went to benches in the school gymnasium and scholarships. Lord oh Lord, the
donors’ names etched on benches and fences. See. I am really Arch Meanie and
don’t deserve a peso in donation for my causes, and still Boyet, nicest guy in
high school now in the town council, showed me around. They took me to lunch
and to my surprise and delight, they did not ask me any questions, and the one
who did ask, asked one question that matters. “Happy ka didto sa Jolo, Sheilf?”
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
This is a major
maladjustment. The loss of privacy. The invasion of the other world. Now my day
revolves around alimentation and the spirit world. This can’t be.
On the other hand I
should feel privileged. The world of Gabriel Garcia Marquez Isabel Allende and
Toni Morisson, maybe less, now at my feet. But where is literature. I am with
conmen.
The spectre of couples
they disgust me so. Zero credit for la causa everybody looking forward to their
first decent pay. Ness leaving everything to the girlfriend to do all the
performing. The world and all its problems, tuition, boarding house brawls,
everything petty bourgeois, now toppling my book case and account notebooks. Water
is scarce, and they finish what I haul inside, not even considering if I need a
bath, too. Someone is stepping on the toilet seat and not flushing the bowl. I’m
sick. Sick to death.
Yesterday Maher came, a
swagger of self-importance. Suwerte nyo, he said, kapag ipinagluto ko kayo,
when asked to do the cooking. Took two pieces from the egg tray to mix with the
sauteed cabbage, which is no vegetables to me. He did clean the fish though, a
little grudgingly, telling me this should serve the three of us until tomorrow.
Of course he counts every cent I spend on the girls. Then Chinchin volunteered
to do the cooking while he watched Boys Don’t
Cry which he could not appreciate. Haram,
he said, when Brandon started making love with the girlfriend with a rubber
penis bought from a store. Then stood up and left.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)