|
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Missing Everybody
By Orleigh C.
Supahnova
Rainy days and Mondays always remind me of my poet-friend and kindred, Jeneen Garcia. So when I received an SMS from her last Monday night asking if I wanted to party with her (instead of sulking at home, listening to the sound of rain pelting the roof), I automatically told myself, yeah, sure, why not?
It was a lonely Monday night and the sudden rain was a bummer. So, posthaste, I phoned another soulmate, Maria Niza Mariñas, she who has been my sole and delightful companion in my misery lately, instructing her to get ready for I was on my way to pick her up. Little did it dawn on me that it was Handuraw’s first anniversary celebration. And to my rather pleasant surprise, all of my favorite local bands were there: Cattski, Junior Kilat, Kadangyan, Hardwood (we missed Pandora’s Box’s number early on) and even Hastang whom I’ve been meaning to check out for the longest time. When I went over the list of bands, I was almost gasping for air when I read, in the seemingly endless list, Island Joe that I had come to liking, and of course, the band to root for, Missing Filemon.
It was after reading Insoy’s band’s name that it hit me, like a bolt of lightning. I was missing a few people in my life, indeed. In a gathering like this, I thought Angela Calina, my supahfriend who will be celebrating her birthday in three days and the one barkada I can’t seem to get over getting star-struck with, would and should have to be there, naturally. And where is Cora Almerino, can somebody please tell me?
Another would be my erstwhile talent, Aldwin Rondina (of Soulstring), whose amazing voice never fails to touch me deeply. I wondered out loud: why wasn’t he there? And yes, my good friend Ryan Racal, whom I remembered spending the night before his audition in Star in a Million at this exact place (together with Jude B. and Paul Martin Gabatan, we were the fantastic four).
Handuraw was a place to hanker for, both literally and figuratively.
As if reading my mind, Jeneen unceremoniously reminded me that Handuraw means “the power to imagine.” So there. Such a brief word for such a powerful phenomenon.
And in one spiritual and pellucid moment, I brought everybody into Handuraw with me, yes, including two dear friends whom I have an ongoing trifle and falling out with since summer. And, yes, my special friend who’s extraordinary in his being “just an ordinary person,” the pizza monster, who I imagined would have loved the overflowing pizza offerings (thanks to Gina Pestaño, Zarah Smith, and Auntie Becky).
For friendship is a sacred act of faith: that both the conjured thing and the living presence of the world will someday awaken in another person’s body of memories and dreams. August eight, it turned out, was also a good day to forgive, too.
(August 10, 2005 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
Join the Sun.Star message board.Click here. |
|
[return to top]
[home]
[network page]
|
LOCAL NEWS
BUSINESS
OPINION
SPORTS
LIFESTYLE
FEATURE
SUPERBALITA
WEEKEND
|
