Saturday, July 5, 2008

Deconstruction of Humanity

It was one of those days when I realized how lucky I was to be studying in Ateneo under a full scholarship, and be born into a "family" modestly and comfortably living in a quiet subdivision.

I came home quite late last night since I hanged around in the CompSAt room. I promised myself that I would be more active in the org, and not just be a member in name. I read the book I borrowed from Ding in preparation for my Hi165 long test this coming Thursday, while other members of the org were practicing their dance for the upcoming General Assembly this Friday. As I pondered in the achievements of Magellan and how the people of Castille reorganized the space and time of the natives, I wondered if what I was doing will be again something for nothing. I didn't know for sure. I was confused and lost in the translation of a myriad of Spanish terms, but even if my brain died out, I had to study. After a few more pages of reading, I soon discovered that my vision was failing me. The print became difficult to read, and I was having a hard time understanding it as well. I rested my head on my arms, and made the upbeat music of the sophomore's dance a lullaby.

I woke up several minutes later to discover that it was raining. That prolonged my stay in the org room by an hour or so. But at least I got the chance to meet and make new friends. We ate at McDonald's after the rain ceased its wet embrace to the grounds of the school and the roads of Katipunan. We discussed several things about the GA, and at around 9 pm, they went to National to look for materials for the costumes. The skies cleared up, and I took that as a signal to head home.

After visiting Gateway and eating in Tropical Hut, I rode a bus home. I settled myself in the very back corner of the bus. I looked outside the windows, and saw humanity progress. Cars were everywhere. People inside buses were texting, sleeping, watching the show, paying their fares, or were just staring outside the window. People were clothed decently and suited for the cloudy and rainy weather. People were in a hurry to go home, each carrying their own reasons with them. So many things were happening outside: the flashes of bright lights, the slow moving red lights, and the infinite splattering of rain on the window. I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to think if all of these people are happy, if not content.

But it was cold inside the bus.

I slowly opened my eyes, and it was something that I saw that made me realize that not everyone in the world is as lucky as I am.

In the darkness of the night, a man was seeking refuge from the rain under the roof of a public pay toilet. I was unable to see what he was doing. He was seated upright and was holding something in his right hand. I strained my eyes to see what he was holding, but it was difficult to make anything out of the darkness. A car bolted across, and its headlights were so bright that it illuminated and fazed the poor man in his peace.


In his tattered and filthy clothes, he was praying the rosary.


I guess, some people are more blessed than I am.

What is important? Why is it important?

2 comments:

. said...

A car bolted across, and its headlights were so bright that it illuminated and fazed the poor man in his peace.


In his tattered and filthy clothes, he was praying the rosary.

- Very powerful imagery. Cool

Anonymous said...

I had goosebumps from Kamuning up to Sandigan after I saw that man.