In Clear Violation

Somewhere along the the stretch of EDSA, there's a violation going on. It's not a traffic infraction which has become standard in this particular stretch of road. It's about a violation of a rule that is clearly printed in very bold letters.

I regularly travel about one half of the entire stretch of EDSA since my job is in the Ortigas area and I just happen to reside in faraway Valenzuela. For the uninformed, Valenzuela is that relatively small town (now city) which serves as the boundary between urban Manila and the province of Bulacan.

As I travel on this major highway, which covers about five major cities (Calooan, Quezon City, Pasig, Mandaluyong, Pasay), I noticed this very conspicuous banner poster advertisement placed at the corner of EDSA and Timog Avenue. The ad states that, as per a certain Quezon City ordinance, no political advertisement will be displayed on any major road or street that falls under city jurisdictions. Since EDSA is a major road, I assume the ordinance is applicable.

If you are an alien residing in the Philippines, please be aware that the country is in the midst of an election fever. Hence, candidates seeking public office resort to all kinds of tactics in their efforts to be recognized.

It is in this regard that I found the act of the Quezon city government worth applauding.

The praise, I found out later to my dismay, was not worth it. Because just before you reach the corner of EDSA and P. Tuazon Boulevard (still in Quezon City),there is this technical school on top of which is displayed a huge billboard of two men running for the two highest public positions in the land.

Now, this is definitely a violation of that city ordinance prominently displayed at the corner of Timog Avenue and EDSA.

Philippine elections have always been seen as the perfect tool to effect the needed changes in the country. Unfortunately, it has also been the instrument where either the best or the worst in man will come out.

If those concerned are reading this and if they are committed to making the changes that this country sorely needs, please start by arresting election violators and show them we mean business.

Desperately Seeking Composers

It's been a few days after Valentine's Day. yet, not surprisingly, we still hear a lot more of those love songs being played over the radio, all in celebration of the so-called love month.


No, this is not a story about love. Sorry to disappoint you. This is about the songs from the past that we have come to love. The very same songs that are making a comeback on the local airwaves because some up and coming singer has decided to make a revival of them. On other occasions, it is the more established performers who do the reviving of a song or two.

I admit that I have never been a big fan of revival songs. For me, the songs are good enough as they originally were. Why go through the process of changing some of the melodies and passing them off as songs rendered in a different way?

I used to admire local singers like Jaya,the Queen of Soul, and Regine Velasquez, known as Asia's songbird. They are undoubtedly one of the finer voices that our country has produced. However, when they started riding the revival bandwagon and began producing albums that contained revival songs, my admiration for them has greatly diminished.

Where have all the great Filipino composers gone? Where are the likes of Cecille Azarcon and Odette Quesada, two of the more prolific songwriters of our land who made timeless love songs and even gained several awards for their works two or three decades ago? Has no one equally talented been able to step into their shoes?

To date, there is only Ogie Alcasid who consistently makes original Filipino music. And this also gets me to ask, 'why not produce an album for her love, Regine, that will not carry an array of revived songs?'

To make matters worse, many of our singers these days have not limited themselves to merely reviving local songs. They have now gone international, reviving well-loved love songs like Bluer Than Blue, Love Will Lead You Back, and I Love You Goodbye, just to name a few.

Have our singers been reduced to a group of performers capable of only reviving old songs? There are lots of new singers in our midst these days. I find Nina and Kyla paricularly good, but their decision to do revivals has become a great disappointment. Why can they not just stick to composing real-to-goodness original songs?

There's also the issue about royalties. Is this still being observed whenever song revivals are made?

Emmanuel Revisited

This is rather late. But I have to share this in the light of the recent celebrations and the joy that continues to overflow in my heart.

You see, in the morning of December 5, exactly five days before the birthday of Jesus Christ, God has seen it fit to send me my very own Emmanuel. On that cold Saturday morning, a cute little baby boy came into our lives. We have since named him Mark Emmanuel in honor of the Word made flesh.

I know a lot of you already know this. Still, for those who do not, Emmanuel literally means "God is with us". It was a most appropriate name for someone completely divine who came into the world more than 2,000 years ago and actually dwelt among us. Thus, giving true significance to the meaning of His name.

I know the Blessed Mother is very proud of Him, especially on that day when He came out of her womb. Ditto for St. Joseph, his surrogate but ever-loving father.

In the same way, I'm very proud of my own Emmanuel, though proud is just one of the many emotions that I'm feeling. Honored is another. And thankful that someone like me has been given this awesome gift.

And there lies this other emotion. One that involves mixed feelings, where fear and anticipation collide. The true Emmanuel lived up to the Father's expectations, despite the truth that while He is God, He also happened to be man.

My own Emmanuel, on the other hand, is pure flesh, and I know it will take several lifetimes before he can even assume even just a trace of the divinity that his namesake inherently carried.

Still, I refuse to dwell on the uncertain. For now, my Emmanuel is safe, healthy, and simply a great bundle of pure and innocent joy. I often find his eyes looking upwards whenever he is awake, after which he would suddenly flash an innocent smile on his tender lips. From there, I know someone up there is watching over him, making sure that in due time, he too will live up to the meaning of his name.

Bonifacio and His Unfinished Revolution

This is slightly delayed, but about two weeks ago, November 30 to be exact, the Philippines commemorated the birth of the Great Plebeian, Andres Bonifacio. What struck me about this annual holiday is that it was hardly mentioned in the news. Yes, it was a holiday, which meant no work and no classes. Other than that though, hardly anyone remembered what the celebration was all about.

I know not too many people know about this, but the life and death of Bonifacio has always been shrouded in mystery. And for reasons only history knows, his heroism has consistently been chopped down to pieces as time passes by.

The youth of today is probably unaware that unlike Rizal, Aguinaldo, and other Filipino heroes, Bonifacio's remains are still unaccounted for, more than a hundred years after he was executed in the mountains of Cavite. His attempts at freeing our ancestors from Spanish cruelty were constantly belittled, and often allowed to be overshadowed by the many victories of General Aguinaldo during the heat of the revolution.

In countless commemorative acts, Bonifacio was often left in the dark. And even the few memorabilia that were supposedly made in remembrance of the Supremo were taken away from the man. Who could forget the original five-peso bill in the 70's which carried his picture, only to be rivaled by a similar note which had the image of Aguinaldo?

Then, by some stroke of mystery, Bonifacio's bill was stopped from circulation, leaving that of Aguinaldo's to have the field all by itself.

Then, the powers-that-be appeared to have realized the mistake and decided to produce five-peso coins bearing Bonifacio's image. But this did not last long, for Aguinaldo soon came into the picture again, coming up with his own five-peso coin.

Then in another stroke of feign genius, the Bonifacio-bearing five-peso coin vanished from monetary circulation, and Aguinaldo again crowned himself king of the coin kingdom.

In between, there was also a short-lived two-peso coin that supposedly carried the face of the Katipunan founder, but this too disappeared from circulation for unknown reasons.

Today, Bonifacio's face has to content itself to the much smaller ten-peso coin. Few people, however, could hardly recognize him. Not only is his image too small, Bonifacio has to share space with another local hero, the Sublime Paralytic, Apolinario Mabini.

It was said that Rizal's image was placed in the one-peso coin because our early officials wanted a national hero that everyone can afford to hold. It was also said to be the case with all the other Philippine coins, but with the obvious exception of Bonifacio whose memory and heroism seems to be undergoing continuous and systematic execution.

Some historians believe that Bonifacio continues to be slain up to this day. With all the things that I have seen, I could hardly disagree. Yes, there are monuments and statues that have been erected in various places honoring the Great Plebeian; yet, they can never hide the way he has been treated both then and now.

The next time you get to hold a ten-peso coin in your hand, stop awhile and try to look at the picture of this man whose personal revolution remains unfinished.

A Long Stretch of Road

Several years ago, during a job interview, I was asked a question that proved quite profound. The question was: if you were to describe your life in just one sentence, how will you describe it?


I never realy cared to remember the answer I gave to the interviewer. But, in the last few weeks, after going through a difficult and personal life experience, the question came back to my mind: if you are to describe your life in just one sentence, how will you describe it?

In a single sentence, I would say my life is a long stretch of road. And as I travel across this road, I get to meet people, many of whom I get to hurt; while others get to hurt me in return.

Getting to hurt people was never intentional on my part. In the same way, I know now that people who get to hurt me never do so deliberately.

Still, there was pain inflicted, and many times, this same pain can linger inside, causing haunting heartaches and even untold hatred, emotions that can lead you to feign a smile while tears flow unceasingly from the most fragile portion of your heart.

It is only in letting go of the pain and embracing forgiveness that you will find inner peace. Sadly, as I look back at the road behind me, I find that I have allowed the tears to continue swelling while seeing the road before me as only stacked with more uncertainties, and more of the same unpleasant experiences. That thought, I realized, has kept me from seeing the end of this road and I know that it will still take several more twists and turns before I see a change in the road patterns or even a crossroad.

One faint hope gives me a smile, though. The hope that at the end of this long stretch, I will find my Maker waiting for me with a smile on His divine lips, telling me I have done well, and that He is pleased to know that I am finally coming home.

Something for the Homeless People

Last night, as I was riding in a bus on my way home, I saw two homeless persons sitting on the sidewalk and staring blankly at God knows what. They look hungry and cold, as most homeless people do.

At about the same time, the bus TV (yes, it has one) was playing the video concert of British singer Phil Collins. He was performing the song 'Another Day in Paradise'.

Phil Collins composed and dedicated the song to all the homeless people all around the world.

Was it mere coincidence the song was playing when I saw those two homeless persons on the street that night?

We often think of them as unsightly, smelly, and at times dangerous people, which can be understandable. Yet, they are not really different from the rest of us. They are still breathing, living human beings, who, by some strange and perhaps wicked twist of fate, underwent one or two harrowing experience.

Who knows if what they went through and continue to go through will be the very same things that some or all of us may someday go through as well?

It's a bit far-fetched of course. But you have to admit that fate can be very cruel every now and then. With that in mind, how certain are we that we will not suffer the same fate as these homeless ones?

I'm supposed you're thinking now that I'm part of some non-government organization. No, I'm not, and just like those homeless people, I too have my own monsters that I have yet to deal with. Even if I wanted to, I could not really be of much help to them.

So what's the point of writing about them? I don't really know. Maybe it's just my own lilttle way of helping each one of us realize that homeless people do exist and they continue to grow. While life opportunities abound, very few are being presented to them, not even a small shelter to spend the night in. Maybe we can start from there as our initial assistance.

An excerpt from Phil Collin's song said it aptly: "...Sir, can you help me? It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep. Is there somewhere you can tell me?"

Business Day for the Dead

Yesterday, me, my wife and two daughters, along with my mother and my younger brother, visited my late father's grave. I'm not sure if this is done worldwide, but here where I live, it's called All Saints' Day/All Souls' Day, the time of the year when the locals troop to the cemetery to pay their annual respects to their loved ones who have gone on to the next life.

About four decades ago, this special day used to be observed solemnly. Silence was supposed to be a key element, with only the utterings of short prayers slicing through the stillness of the day.

Today, however, silence has become an absurdity when the locals celebrate All Saints' Day/All Souls' Day. In practically every cemetery, whether public or private, the sounds of laughter, of lively chats, of food being eaten, even of unplanned quarrels, could be heard. And the strange thing about all of these is that they all have become part and parcel of the celebration.

In every corner, there are stalls that sell almost every kind of food that you can think of, from biscuits to hotdogs. Even popular food chains have found cemeteries profitable business places during this time of the year.

All Saints' Day/All Souls' Day has ceased to become so. These days, I refer to it as Business Day for the Dead.