Ramblings from My Soul

October is a rainy month in the Philippines. If being drenched in the rain or getting one's shoes soaked wet are the woes of commuters, car owners complain of the frequent need to wash their vehicles. I can relate to this at a practical level. But on an emotional level, I feel quite differently. You can call me crazy but I truly feel that washing the car is therapeutic. Okay, I admit that at first it wasn't like that. I used to think that it was such a tedious task. I would make up all possible excuses that I could come up with just so I could delay or escape the task of cleaning the car. But for the past few years, I have seen this chore in a different yet interesting way. I love washing the car most when I'm not in a hurry. This is usually on Sundays when I take time in enjoying the sound of the water coming out from the faucet and filling up the pail, the squishing sound of the sponge as I make a lather, the somewhat hypnotic and relaxing effect of t...

I was born to teach. I didn't go out of my mother's womb grasping a ch alk in one hand and unfurling a lesson plan in the other. I could only imagine how many doctors or nurses in the delivery room would have shrieked or fainted. It wasn't like that. In fact, my birth into this calling to teach was slow and a bit later than my actual biological birth. It started with an assigned special report by my grade school science teacher. Being the eager and competitive student that I used to be, I volunteered for this one. If you haven't notic ed, the previous statement is actually a euphemism for being a nerd. Anyway, my task was to find out how electricity is generated by electricity providers and provided to the houses of consumers. This took a little research, a visit to the local electric company, and an hour or two to rehearse my report. Presentation day came. And although I practiced to make it the best report my science teacher had ever witnessed, something...

The other night, I was listening to music while making an exam for my class. I put my iTunes on shuffle mode. I was busy trying to make the most difficult exam ever for my students (just kidding as I actually make easy exams) when my attention was swayed from my academic task. The Abba's Chiquititta was being played at that moment. This is a song from my parents' yesteryears, I thought to myself. I wondered where they were and what they were doing when this song hit the charts in 1979. How do they look like sporting bell-bottom jeans or baggy pants? I wonder if they look funny. I guess I'll have to do a little bit of photo album digging. Chiquititta's melody faded out. The next song on the shuffle list was Toyang by Eraserheads. A floodgate of memories cracked open. This time, my memories. 1996, high school. I remember singing this song while a record cassette tape was lodged in my car stereo. My classmates and I were taking a break from planting the "immo...

More often than not, we ask questions and we readily come up with answers. We try to quench our thirst to know everything. But such is not the case for life's questions. Luckily for some, the answers are as glaring as the sun on a summer's mid day. But some answers are elusive. It may take a few years for us to find the answer. In some cases, this journey or quest may take the human race several generations to accomplish. This is what I intend to do with this blog. I will ask serious questions on life. Or make fun of life's ironies. Or make fun of myself. Or tell my story. Or tell another person's story. Or express sorrow. Or celebrate life. Or ramble. Yes, definitely ramble. I will make no claim that my answers are life's truths. Some of you may agree with my thoughts, others in a hurry to find the nearest sink and puke because of revolt and disgust. There may be those who think my perspective is a waste of their time, others may feel that somehow a chord deep wit...