A Romance With Books -1

Whenever I pass by a bookstore, I recall the days when I was struggling to collect a decent library. That was long ago, when five pesos could buy you a brand new, hardbound copy of your favorite book. So when I was in college, I often dreamed of a house with bookshelves reaching from floor to ceiling, with all the books printed with my ex libries. Being poor and subsisting academically only on scholarship, the dream had a long way reaching reality. By the time I got my degree, I had a few pocketbooks, though. I was penniless and now unemployed. I sought the help of our dean. I quite humbly (for I had in the past caused him trouble), that I needed a teaching job soon or I would perish in the unsafe world. I was hoping a position in the faculty of my own college. He nodded his white haired head and told me to come back in a week’s time. When I went back to him on the appointed day, he gave me a letter of recommendation to a far university. I thanked him but refused the letter and left at once, hardly containing my irritation. I suspected he wanted to exile me to that violent no-man’s island as self-punishment for all the grief I had caused him.

A few days later I bumped into a former classmate who was then a teacher at the near university where I should supposed to teach. He told me stories of his nice life in that mountain city that made me mouth water. She said I could join of it if I liked; all I had to do was send an application to the dean and he would check for me. I did and he did. Out of complete ignorance, I miscalculated my journey’s time and arrived at the bus station in the evening. My teeth chattered in the cold. I could not afford a hotel room. The only way is to stay in a station. I noticed two clerks in the dispatcher’s office engaged in a game of chess. To pass away my hunger, I went in and silently watched them. It was a nearing midnight when they finished. I went to lie down on a bench. I hardly slept that night. I noticed only one other fellow there who could not afford a hotel room. I felt safe in that huge corner whose embrace was the first hospitable welcome I had in that city.

more in next post..........

TRUST WHO?

My heart pounds nowadays every time I hear my phone beep. I can’t help but think that there’s more bad news coming. You can’t blame me though, because a recent experience made me think of something that I have always taken for granted. I’ve always believed. I used to think that everyone else was just like me: carefree, unaffected and easily trusting. But my thoughts were proven wrong.

I hurriedly grabbed my phone. I was surprised to find out that it was one of my close friend. What was far more surprising was her message. It was short and simple. But its impact was huge. I nearly lost my balance when I red her text in bold letters: “I’M TWO MONTHS PREGNANT.” For a moment I was stunned. I was replying to the text message: What happened? Did you tell anyone else? All I got was a curt reply: “ NO ONE ELSE KNOWS. “ I felt bothered. I wanted to call her. But I didn’t know where to start. I have always perceived her as the shy-typed and probably now ashamed to admit her condition. I’m quite surprised that she told me, but somewhat relieved. At least she trusted me. So I promised to never let her down.

Sometimes the world can be so indifferent. People can be so immature. Sharing a part of yourself with others can be hard. Looking for that elusive trustworthy someone then becomes a quest. I have never put much thought on this matter, until I realized that trusting isn’t easy at all. But do people today still have their own confidantes whom they can turn to in times of troubles? Or do they just keep it all to themselves? I had to convinced. So I made my own little survey. I tried to find out whom people trust and the reasons why they do so. Out of 100 respondents, my survey says: “ MOTHERS KNOW BEST. “