The sentimental orange light in the middle of the jeepney blinks twice. It hits my face so I close my eyes. It is really already getting dark outside.Then it starts raining. I pass by several happy Christmas lights on the way. Some of them vary in sizes and colors but I always prefer those big white lights that they hung under wide and tall trees where random people want to gather. Nearsightedness always comes with complaints about the consequences of not seeing everything clearly. But sometimes, at very rare times like this, this visual challenge that I have actually creates a melodramatic collage of these Christmas lights and the tail-lights of cars on crowded streets. It’s serendipitous that I feel lost again. The wind creeps on my skin and the raindrops are vivid but silent. I focus on nothing but the song playing on my earphones. I don’t want to be emotional. Crying inside a jeepney would be the last thing I would do. But I can’t help it. I just can’t. I thought I grew more mature. I know I did. I just didn’t realize that there will be few tears along the way.
I have been living an official
city life for nine months now after I graduated college. I was honestly the
person who used to think that I wouldn’t blend with a city and its lifestyle.
Pretty much I guess, I still don’t blend that perfectly. I just do what I want
to do and it is up for this city to take what I will and will not give. I never
let the city dictate what I should and shouldn’t do. People are so engrossed
with the idea of visiting malls, going to concerts, or drinking very late at
night. I am not up for those. I just lock myself in my room and watch TV shows
on my laptop. I enjoy it better than going to places you can always visit
everyday if you want to. This is not because I am not oriented with how
everything goes. Maybe it is because I am not yet ready.
I paid a number of visits to my
university for the last few months. Seeing very familiar faces and very close
friends has somehow made me forget that I am apparently stressed with work
right now. Every time I go back to the campus, I always look forward being with
people, talking about our lives and just having fun like we always had. The
maximum time I spent on each visit was only around two days. Less than forty
eight hours even. I appear, make them laugh, get them to be with me and eat at
our favorite restaurant, tell them few things going in and out of my mind, give
them last few hugs and then I go back to the city again. I am completely happy
every time I am with these people. But when I head home, either on the jeepney
or on the bus, my sentiments still get the best of me. When I lean my head on the
glass windows and look at the darkness outside, my thoughts tell me that there
is something at the back of my mind I cannot explain further. All I know is
that I want the universe to give me answers for it. I have been meaning to ask
something that bothered me for quite some time. The only problem is that I
don’t even know the question.
People have doubts and stereotypes with the nature of the work that
I have right now. I can’t blame them. When I started working, this is where I
realized that this job is not as easy as others hear it to be. And I also
understood why others think the way they do about the job. This job requires
multifaceted skills. I know a lot of good people who are not fit for this job.
That is why I guess this job needs more respect coming from others. I would be very afraid to say that I love my
job right now. There is “fear” of admitting that I like what I am doing because
I know that this shouldn’t be permanent. I have come to know a handful of
amazing people who are now my close friends as well. I know that sometimes I
feel so detached and challenged because my work is not yet that stable in terms
of internal matters but I genuinely think that I have grown as a better
individual when I started working. A lot of people have also asked, “How do you
like your work so far?” I just answer them by saying that it would always
depend on how willing you are in making the best out of the job that you have. I
am a newbie in the company that I am working but I feel like I have been there
all my life. It’s so sad that I would really have to leave soon.
My sister just called me earlier
this morning. She wanted to check if I would be home for Christmas or New Year.
Inasmuch as I love to be home, see my mom preparing those round fruits on New
Year’s eve that I always eat before the clock ticks at 12 AM, listen to my
father’s annual engine showoff of his motorcycle together with other vehicles
in the neighborhood, laugh at my sisters who write their next year’s
resolutions and burning the papers after they jump up and down when everybody
shouts “Happy New Year!” and go to church at dawn where everything feels so fragile
and nostalgic. This is just the one of the biggest reasons why I think December
has been so melodramatic for me. I badly miss my family and I really want to go
home. It’s hard to be existing in one place but your soul, heart and mind are
elsewhere.
At times like this where I get
so tested, I accidentally contemplate. Then I resort to prayer. And then I
realize how unreligious I have become for the last few moments of my life. Yes.
I stopped praying when everybody does it with others. I feel a latent guilt of
not going to Church every Sunday not just because I have work on this particular
day but also because I don’t want to make up for my absence. I have been a
grave sinner, I know. And I admit I am not the most religious man in the world.
But I have not lost all my faith. I guess I just have to take some time to
think things over. Maybe go to church one of these days and offer a very deep
prayer like I used to do when I was still a kid - that moment with my grandpa
and grandma as we kneel to pray at Church on Simbang Gabi. They always told me
“Prayers are heard based on how deep you say it from your heart.” I want to
feel again that feeling I always had after praying deep. That feeling of praise
when I would hear the divine sound of church choir. That feeling of warmth an
embrace can give. That feeling I always call REDEMPTION.
I hear the jeepney driver shout
where we’re at, emphasizing that we’ve reached my destination and I could go
home. I open my eyes and see that the light in the middle of the jeep is off. I
took my earphones off. I give the driver some coins then I come out
of the vehicle. I walk straight to the dark, narrow pavement where I now see my
new home, my home away from home. I reach my room’s doorstep and fish the key
inside my bag. I take a step inside and look at everything that seems to be
pretty messed up. I set everything back and clean up a bit. Now I ready my bed.
There is still something heavy inside my chest I can feel it. But after all this
time of weighing things, I feel like a long-awaited relief is certain to
come. I then turn off the light. I lay
myself on my bed and tell myself, “You never waver. You’re still my favorite
month, December.” #
