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Literary

Lusus Naturae

The spider crept outside the window. I can hear slow, subtle movements. I do not know exactly what it is. I am alone in my bedroom now, staring at each clock’s hand passing hour after another. It’s dark, of course. Good thing, the walls are still painted blue. I love blue, and I love watching the stars.

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The spider crept outside the window. I can hear slow, subtle movements. I do not know exactly what it is. I am alone in my bedroom now, staring at each clock’s hand passing hour after another. It’s dark, of course. Good thing, the walls are still painted blue. I love blue, and I love watching the stars.

Sitting cross-legged on my quilt, I drift, hoping to snuggle myself to sleep. But the enduring harassment continues- a twisted pain knocking off my eardrums, and the veins continue to swallow air- harder and harder until it reaches my head. My eyes remain pallid, sleepless from all the paperwork and cups of coffee every single night. The bloodcurdling echo sings louder, rasher. I wonder when it will stop. I wonder what it is. No, I wonder what it will do to me. Will it gobble and chew down my brain or shatter my heart leaving its remains scattered on the headboards? How happy would he be to slice my abdomen in half, ripping my hair apart and sucking my blood like a condiment on a hot summer day! Or, chew my ear like an appetizer combined with a glass of wine. It must be delicious to die in his hands.

I glanced. It must have been long since he left me. No, maybe I am the one who left him. Memories must have come back to haunt me. Yes, to kill me, because I murdered him.  I ate his brain and stewed his liver.  Because I am afraid – of him leaving me, so I ate him, that I shall own him forever.

A few weeks later, I felt uneasy and weird. I also felt dizzy and vomited black plasma that tasted like ink every morning. I don’t understand what’s happening to me. There were nights I had severe fevers without any cause. I went to the doctor, pale and frustrated, desperate to know the cure for this disease that overcomes me, but she only told me that I’m fine and there’s nothing to worry about.

I remember how I devoured on every single thought of him, wanting, hungering for more. I reminisced the day, he asked me to marry him. He said he loved me, so I said yes. Only, to figure out I was fooled; that every single night, I found him cohabiting with prostitutes a house after another. Maybe, that’s okay. I am not a perfect woman anyway. Besides, men must have high standards regarding their sexual urges. It’s fine, even if it tears my heart away. I tried to resist the painstaking agony of seeing my husband sleep with another woman every night.

Maybe there were days he saw me. But he treated me differently; as if I were some unknown being he saw someplace; the longer days passed, he treated me more peculiar. There were days he treated me like a non-existing creature and looks at me like he sees nothing.  Yes, he would go to office jolly and vibrant each morning, but whenever he comes home, he would bring another woman to caress and cuddle. If not, he would open his beer bottles finishing them one by one, every drop on the lid. He can finish five bottles. He’s a good drinker, I must say. He’s also good at hurting women.  I remember how I used to be beaten, punched and shouted on His words still echo “Shut up, or I’ll kill you”. If I shout back at him, he’ll kick me, and it hurts so much. I don’t know where else to go. My parents died since I was a baby. An old woman only adopted me, but after marrying Frank, she got terribly sick and died. I was not allowed to visit her. Frank would beat me up. The more I screamed at him, the more he hurt me. The more I hurt him back, the more he tied me up. Oh, why do I have to endure such melancholy?

Sometimes, I wonder how it felt like to lacerate someone’s cock, squeezing the small thumb-sized pinkish muscle like a baby grape. Then, maybe I can chew it like a gum, playing it against my tongue. Then I’ll crush its cells under gritted teeth. I always fantasized those imaginations.

Ah! Just how it feels to manipulate and control someone who did the same thing before.

I don’t know what happened next. Everything is just so sudden.  It was not long ago when he told me to marry him. I’m sure, I am still fine and well though, but I don’t know about being fertile.  I never had a check-up.  But that should not be the only reason for leaving me, should it? And now his soul demands attention- to get total revenge of me. As I slowly crept down from my bed, I paced, walking in circles. What do I do, where to run? I can hear my heart palpitating loudly while the shivers ran down my spine. Beads of cold sweat dripped down my cheeks.

And suddenly, my eyes stare widely; after a moment or two, he’s here, like a godly Cereberus, a fitting ghost of darkness.  It was as if the room reduced its temperature to a Fahrenheit degree, cold and yet no air, but hollow. His eyes were huge and bright red, like blood. He was looking at me, his pupils not dilating. No head, no body, just a face, a terrifying face- a facade that would make your stomach twitch and trickle , a look none of you could imagine wanting. He’s just looking at me-all focused. I stood on the circle I’ve been since thinking of him. He’s still looking at me. I never moved. I looked at him, my fingers trembling, and quintessence screaming like hell.

I wonder if I am dreaming.  But no, he really is here and as time moves forward, the scents of cherry blossoms which usually filled my room turned to odour. Yes, bad, belching odour- a stench that smelled of Golgotha. He’s not going to leave me, is he? He’s still looking at me, salivating. After a blink, he tilted his face on the left side, as if trying to comprehend what that blink meant. But I just stayed, unmoving, reckless.

Then he returned to his normal position and grinned evilly.

And before I knew it, I was melting blood.

I was slowly dissipating like falling chalk dust.

My insides were flaring and my mouth ran dry.

Photo by Joshua Lugti

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Literary

Huwag Mo Kaming Salingin

Pagkat habang may laban,
Patuloy ang sigaw namin:
Huwag mo kaming salingin.

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Dibuho ni Jomari Robiso/TomasinoWeb.

Noong sinauna,

Bago man daw lumaya,

Ang sigaw ni Rizal

Sa Inang Espanya:

Huwag Mo Akong Salingin.

 

Nang dakipin ang Supremo,

Nang sa likod ay tumuhog ang bolo,

Ang sigaw ni Bonifacio

Sa kapwa Pilipino:

Huwag Mo Akong Salingin.

 

Nang dumating ang estrangherong Kano,

Sa pag-aastang Diyos ng mundo,

Ang sigaw ng rebolusyonaryong Pilipino

Nang agawin ng Kano ang panalo:

Huwag Mo Kaming Salingin.

 

At ginapi, pinatay, iniwan sa Hapon,

Ang perlas ng silangan ay inulan ng dugo,

Sumigaw sa kanayunan ang hukbong bayan

At tumindig, itinaas: Huwag Mo Kaming Salingin.

 

Ngunit ngayo’y sa’n nanggagaling

Ang mga katagang gasgas na rin,

Sa lansangan, sa nayon,

sa syudad, sa pabrika,

Maging sa pamantasan din.

 

Panahon na para mamulat,

Panahon na para magising,

Pagkat habang may laban,

Patuloy ang sigaw namin:

Huwag mo kaming salingin.

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Literary

Pagsasalin, napakalawak ng pangangailangan

Binigyang-diin ng isang propesor sa Departamento ng Filipino ng Kolehiyo ng Edukasyon ang “malawak na pangangailangan” sa larangan ng pagsasalin ng wikang Filipino noong Huwebes, ika-30 ng Agosto.

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wennielyn fajilan presenting
Kuha ni Alexa Taay/TomasinoWeb.

Binigyang-diin ng isang propesor sa Departamento ng Filipino ng Kolehiyo ng Edukasyon ang “malawak na pangangailangan” sa larangan ng pagsasalin ng wikang Filipino noong Huwebes, ika-30 ng Agosto.

Sa ginanap na Siyasik 2018: Pagbabasa ng mga Saliksik-Papel, iginiit ni Asst. Prof. Wennielyn Fajilan, Ph.D. na “napakalawak pa ng pangangailangan” sa translation studies, translation criticism at translation history.

“Yung translation of meaning from one text to another ay batayan ng pagsasalin. Kapag tiningnan sa ibang lipunan, makikita na hindi lang pala iyon ang value niya,” wika ni Fajilan

Sa saliksik-papel ni Fajilan na pinamagatang “Pananalig sa Bata: Kasaysayan at Panunuri ng Muling Pagsasalaysay at Pagsasaling Pambata sa Filipino,” inilahad din niya ang kasulukuyang kalagayan ng pagsasalin dito sa ating bansa partikular na sa mga panitikang pambata.

“Kapag nagsasalin ng panitikang pambata, nagsasalin din ng pagkabata. Bitbit ng tagasalin ang ating pagkabata” at makapangyarihan ang mga ilustrador bilang tagasalin ng panitikang pambata, ani Fajilan.

“Hindi mo titingnan yung bata ng tabularasa. Mayroon na siya kaalaman. Kapos siya sa karanasan pero hindi ibig sabihin na kapos siya sa kaalaman,” dagdag pa niya.

Nabanggit din ni Fajilan na ang pagsasalin ay “migration” at walang pagsasalin na parehas dahil “magkakaiba ng pokus.”

Ang programang Siyasik ay naglalayong hindi lamang maibida ang mga saliksik-papel ng mga guro kundi mas makatulong pa sa pagpapaunlad ng wikang Filipino at makapag-ambag sa pag-aaral nito.

Ginanap ang nasabing programa sa Gusaling Albertus Magnus kahapon, sa pangunguna ng Departamento ng Filipino ng Kolehiyo ng Edukasyon ng Unibersidad. John Aaron Pangilinan

 

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Literary

Isang liham para sa bagong, ganap na Tomasino

Naalala mo pa ba ang mga panahong halos maiyak ka na sa kahahabol sa mga dokumentong kailangang mong ipasa para makapasok?

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walking thomasian art
Likhang-sining ni Kaye Iral/TomasinoWeb.

Naalala mo pa ba ang mga panahong halos maiyak ka na sa kahahabol sa mga dokumentong kailangang mong ipasa para makapasok? O ‘di kaya yung mga sandaling halos mabaliw ka na sa kahihintay sa pasukan? Naalala mo rin ba yung mga gabing paikot-ikot ka lang sa kama at wala ka nang ibang magawa kung hindi ang pumikit at taimtim mong ipagdasal na sana kayanin mo ang lahat?

Pumipintig. Sumisigaw. Tiyak naramdaman mo rin ang pagbilis ng tibok ng iyong puso noong tumawid ka sa makasaysayang Arko. Sa wakas, isa ka nang ganap na Tomasino. Sa karagatan ng dilaw at ginto, naramdaman mong kabilang ka rito.

At ngayo’y nag-uumpisa na muli ang mga klase. Mararanasan mo na ulit ang mga sandaling tinatamad kang bumangon dahil kulang ka sa tulog, ngunit kailangan mo pa rin pumasok sa kabila ng pagod. Minsan, hindi ka na kakain ng almusal at gagawin mo nalang ang natitirang mga gawain bago ka pumasok. Mararanasan mo na ulit ang pagmamadali sa pagtakbo bago pa magsimula ang Angelus. Babalik nanaman tayo sa paghiling sa kung sino mang nakikinig na sana hindi nanaman sira ang LRT at mabilis ang daloy ng trapiko.

Sa mga darating na linggo ay mararamdaman mo na ulit ang bigat na dinadala ng isang estudyante. Mas uunahin mo ang pagtapos sa iyong mga takdang aralin o pag-aaral sa isang pagsusulat kaysa sa pagtulog. Tila biglang bumibilis ang takbo ng oras habang ikaw ay natataranta sa sobrang dami ng iyong mga gawain. Mapapaisip ka nanaman kung para saan at para kanino mo ba ito ginagawa?

Lagi mong tandaan na hindi lahat ng kaalaman ay nasa PowerPoint slide ng iyong guro, ito ay iyong mapupulot sa iba’t ibang uri ng tao na iyong makakasalamuha sa loob at labas ng Unibersidad.

Ang tunay na kaalaman ay iyong makukuha sa mga panahong bumagsak ka at tinalikuran ka ng mga taong inakala mong sasamahan ka hanggang sa dulo. Ang tunay na kaalaman ay iyong makakamit kapag minulat mo ang iyong mga mata. Ang tunay na kaalaman ay iyong mapupulot sa pagmamahal hindi lamang sa iyong ginagawa para sa pangarap, kung ‘di para rin sa bayan.

Lagi mo ring tandaan na lahat ng iyong mga paghihirap ay may kapalit. Kahit gaano pa kahirap o kabigat ang bawat gawain ay magiging maganda at masagana ang bunga nito. Huwag ka lang sumuko dahil magiging maayos rin ang lahat.

Kaya kung napapagod ka na, bigyan mo ng pagkakataon ang iyong sarili na magpahinga. Kung sa tingin mo na ikaw ay naliligaw sa lawak ng daan at hindi mo na alam kung ipagpapatuloy mo pa, bigyan mo ng oras ang iyong sarili para makapag-isip.

Ang aking pagpasok sa Unibersidad ng Santo Tomas ay isa lamang sa mga mararaming kahilingan na aking natupad. Bukod dito, ito ay ang aking pangalawang tahanan, at sa tahanang ito ay nakilala ko ang mga taong tinuring kong pangalawang pamilya. Kahit malayo layo pa ang daang tatahakin, masasabi kong lubos na akong napamahal dito. 

Nagbabago na ang lahat, at kasama na ako dito. J. B.

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