Busted?

Tatay, BUSTED!
Said in a childish-sarcastic tone, that was the greeting I got from my favorite Bunso (Motet) as I met her at the door after the Fluvial Procession. I was soaked in dirty, smelly & muddy waters of the Naga River going home. I didn’t know what she really meant by it so I chose to ignore her welcome address. Never did it occur to me that what she said, that precarious word, will be as explosive as the Atom bomb dropped at the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki 65 years ago!

Just when you finally decided to fix yourself then things get even more complicated. I wish we can undo things we didn’t want to happen and forget everything that needs to be forgotten. We can’t write on correction fluids all the time and hope that the first sentences written won’t reveal their stories. Busted? True. But the stories were pre-classified as HISTORY already. It is, because it has NO future. That I learned from my old friend SMS. People change NOT because of the notion that CHANGE is constant, we change because we CHOOSE to change.

I won’t be asking for another piece of paper. Those have been willfully given several times already in the past hoping that I would learn to spell the difference between right or wrong. But I am a slow learner, one that usually occupies the last row in the classroom. More than the paper and pen, this time, I would value TIME. Time to read the graffiti’s in my wall. Time to understand the disparity between the stories of the stupid past and the sentences to be written in the future. Time for my (former) Chinese wife to figure out the real story behind the Telenovela. No Motet, you were wrong po, I was not really busted, I slowly SURRENDERED.