Ika nga ni Maricel S, "I'm buck!"
Maraming salamat kay Norman "Iwasak" Wilwayco aka swiminteractive
para sa bagong hitsura ng blog. Wasak ka talaga, bayaw!
Kudos also to Emman Acasio who designed the artwork on the right side for the poem, "Makahiya". Salamucho, tol.
Sundays
Grandmother religious—whose jargons were spoken with firm belief
in the Sabbath, that solemn and complex gestures must come before
Amen, who insists that hands must not simply meet, but mean and signify,
point heavenward, lest slapped—today I am not wearing po
my Sunday best. Remember the afternoon I came home with science,
offering newer lessons? How you scorned me then. Even as I was pulling out
that dissected frog, you were already running around the old house,
opening all windows, simply detesting the evil smell of formalin,
your rosary your sole consolation, as you swayed gently on that now lost
rocking chair. God, how you punished my pure sacrilege. Once,
you made me sit in the corner all day, forcing the scriptures into me,
as classmates studied the many wonders and synonyms of the word,
chrysalis, while every other kid was out catching butterflies. It was cruel,
the way you made me shine those leather shoes, wear that stupid belt.
And how, later, slowed down and forgetful, you had given certain Saturdays
your sacred duties of the next day, making me miss so many assignments
in biology. Lola, I can still see you, bane of science, skeptical to the end,
warming your cold chest with your one book, dictating wordlessly
the written and exact answers to all my questions, as I steadily grew
into belief, on my own, discovering faith and beginning to count
my blessings, having nothing to do on weekends, still transitory,
roaming the city and clasping both hands on the railing only out of instinct
or this sudden lucid memory, missing again certain stations, the mass.
