November 2011


Other word for incompetence is stupidity. You can call it laziness. You can easily define it—say, a father and a mother can’t do anything to feed their children. Then, somewhere in the land of incompetency, they in fact, existed.

Not a problem at all because the land, apparently, became futile and the parents need to do something for their children.

Of course, the land of incompetency does not, sad to say, opens a fissure for a food or water. The said earth never rains for them to do washing or bathing. Most of all, the sun is never there to light and witness how incompetent the people have become under its radiance and supremacy. How pathetic.

This is an epic, ballad tale of incompetence that is long-living in the land.

One day, a tune fell in the said once-lifeless land. The song it made is strong enough to create Adam. He cannot tell a story. He cannot wash himself that it came to a time when all his body became like some kind of heated clay and stank like foul-smelling food.

The sun was disappointed and finally got angry. He was fiery. The heat was felt even from the bottom of the core. The clay that Adam made called for a ring. The melody did its very best to end this incompetency. That is how an Eve was beckoned.

Let’s us say that he is suffering from a contagious, yet curable disease. Its contagion had nothing feared to crush the host’s barricade of immunity. The disease, as most people believed, does not need medical attention. It required, to all’s surprise, a dream.

A dream perhaps could heal this entire pending lull to the clamor. This defiant is something that even the words and songs of god could never replenish to the disease.

When the infection took place the night when the upper class is supposed to gather—and by that gather it meant for the unreasonable but usual party—everything he had got away.

To date, little by little, he went back to memories. He sailed slowly through forgotten thoughts, at this instant afraid to be hurt.

His friend, Doy, who got his name from a hit and miss chance of the parents in naming one’s son, fell in a trap and was locked up, his prompt aid, no matter how dangerous the trap may be, should be given away.

He travelled a path he personally knew would lead to the lock in. The said instinctive handiness resulted to the nearest town.

When he headed to ask for shelter to escape from a chilly northern wind, he was invited by one of the locals to get along with the night’s celebration. It’s easy, he say, dance with the music and follow the thumping and beating of your body.

Stars shining bright above you…

The Mamas and the Papas kept, for almost an hour, singing and humming.

Night breezes seem to whisper I love you…

When an overlooking view of the window reached a pitch combination of red and blue, a northern wind, for some time, woo the cigarette smoke to come inside the small flat. It occurred an effect that somehow resembles a matter of falling and rising— and it smelled likewise.

Last night, the rain seemed to no ceasing. At this moment, an expectant of a good night is rejoicing. Tonight, as he had said earlier before lighting a stick of cigar, should be perfect.  With silk-inspired pajamas on while shirtless, this could be a good night.

It has to be, he thought.

Something better must come. It must be better than the falling and rising sensation of smoke inside the flat. It must be far better than waiting while the Mammas and Pappas recordings are on. Nothing worse, he thought, could surpass everything that had happened for the last ten years. Every day is like never ending.

And tonight, he has the highest hope that what he waited for a particular time will and shall come.

When his smoke pipe had reached its peak, he strode to the closest chair and sat for a while. He still could overlook the setting sun through the open glass window. The feeling is there. He must not be wrong with this.

The last soundtrack finally ended and when the last note rang, it chimed like an echo that bounced back and forth, up and down, bushing around the walls, ceiling and tiled floors. He followed the sound, moved his head like he could spot the invisible. He chased the now-stopping sound that settled on the floor.

He leaned back to the soft headdress and painted a face with serious contemplation. At this rate, he could be aware of a sudden shivering. Without a shirt on, he trembled, now looking helpless.