A relationship is a journey too. Just like any journeys, one does not have full control over matters. It is a risk one has to brave on. So how to prepare oneself for possible letdowns, disappointments, and pain? Just go, take the journey. Fall in, fall out. One has to break one’s heart one way or another.
Travel allows me to witness a moment of love. But love is too strong a word, too beguiling. For a lover of literature, an entry won’t be enough to enumerate—much more argue about—the myriad discourse about love defined by my preferred writers, from Julian Barnes to Toni Morrison. But the ones dearest to me are Kiran Desai’s and Alice Munro’s. She decided that love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfillment, in the lack, not the contentment. Love was the ache, the anticipation, the retreat, everything around it but the emotion itself. —Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of […]
The fledgling ventured beyond its one-meter realm. With its still fluffy feathers, it returned to its nest once in a while. Its chirps accompanied my veranda mornings in Tuburan, my seemingly sleepy yet happy hometown in midwest Cebu. Nestlings confront life as soon as their wings can take it. They never hesitate. They fly. In the past three weeks, I measured my life with chirps, waters, early mornings, greens, bites and devours, coffee, and mouthing Iloveyous in the crowd or in a room. I lost count. I’m happy. Life has never been this beautiful. And it’s scary. I. WORDS Words—they pain […]
The boy at at the far end of the train car kept looking behind him as if he were afraid or expecting someone and then she appeared in the glass door of the forward car and he rose and opened the door and let her in