Scarlette

(The following post is a fictitious rendition of the author. Any person/s or events that may appear or have happened in the narration respectively are purely fictional. This is just a try of the author at fiction writing).

Let me call her Scarlett. It’s a favorite name. She’s attractive, maybe? But not a beauty to behold. I met her a decade ago, just a casual acquaintance. Her life is a figure of speech. Sometimes she talks and acts in irony, sometimes she’s hyperbole, at other times she’s simile, but whatever she is, I’m falling for her. She lived a colorful life. One that is a good tele-novela material for soap opera writers.

She talks sweetly and moves gracefully. Physically, she’s a good catch for a man like me who is baiting for a temporary partner, who could fill in my loneliness and solitude. I would be so proud to parade her in front of friends and acquaintances because she’s got a body oozing with attraction.

Why am I attracted to her? I love the way she talks, I enjoy her company. She’s someone who could ease my loneliness; she’s someone who could make me laugh. She’s someone who’s always and always and always willing to listen to me especially when I am down and lonely. Every day of my life, I want to be with her. Every day of my life, I long for her presence. But my longings are just desires that could hardly and impossibly be fulfilled. I am not a free man, though she is.

I would just be contented of her company, of good conversations with her. She understands me while my spouse does not. She cares for me especially when I am sick. It’s too bad I met her in my life when I am no longer free. She’s free but I am not. She's so young but I'm so old I can pass as her father. Her age is almost half my age.

How can I tell her that every passing day I am falling for her? How can I tell her that I always miss her company and the good conversations we have.

Oh Scarlette, what have you done to me. Why are you turning my nights into sleepless nights? I am starting to lose my appetite but sharing lunch with you occasionally gives me a very good appetite. It’s too bad I can’t have you as my own. But why were the others had you? Can I be different from them? Can I not be as good as them? Oh Scarlette, can you give me a chance?

I knew from the start that you would come into my life, but just for a fleeting moment. When you came, my existence turned into chaos, nevertheless, I enjoyed it. We understand the same language. We talk the same issues. We never disagreed on conversations; in fact we enjoyed sharing each other’s lives.

Just a look into each other’s eyes, I know we already understand each other. Just a snap of the fingers, you understand me. Just a movement of my body, you understand the message I am sending you.

Someday, when I will be free, can you be my girl, Scarlette? But you are my girl right now, isn’t it? Action speaks louder than words, Scarlette.

Photo: tellyazz@flickr.com

From Russia with Love

For the past few weeks, I had secret rendezvous with a great writer from Russia who added much color into my world of blogging. After Colors of My Soul, then came a new site, The Colors Magazine, her new-found love and baby. After all, both her sites are interesting and appeals to readers of all ages. Maybe, her new site is a perfection of her older one.

She has added more colors into it. Aside from writing from her soul, she now writes for a wider circle of readers. She has added more interesting topics from questions and answers about relationships to a literary corner which deals with fiction and poetry, and all you wanted to ask about lifestyle plus articles on cuisines and recipes, not to mention exploring from Russia with love.

I have been a passionate follower of hers. She gave me much inspiration to write about life, love, experiences and to craft some poems. Because of her, I became a better and more interesting writer, though I can't boast yet of a wider circle of followers since my blog site is just 6 months old.

To you Lena, you are my star-blogger from Russia with love. It only proves that blogging transcends race. You maybe a Russian and I am a Filipino but we understand the same language in the world of blogging.

Lena, keep on! I am proud of you. Please consider me as your big sister. 

Rainbow Connection

Oh how I love this song, popularized by Lea Salonga of the Miss Saigon fame. That was, when she was yet a kid. You may listen to her at youtube and she will cast a spell on you as she sings with her young angelic voice.

Life is like a rainbow. In high school, we were taught to memorize the colors of the rainbow using a certain code, ROYGBIV. R stands for red, O for orange, Y for yellow, G for green, B for blue, I for indigo and V for violet. A very helpful code. But for me, the colors of the rainbow represent so many things in life.

When I am mad and angry, I am RED. I’d wish my eyes would be in hot flaming red when I am angry at monsters roaming around. These monsters are the people who are out to destroy other people, believing that I would outsmart them. I’d love to call them monsters and yes, I’ve vindicated myself of my poor existence.

I would be an ORANGE when I feel a little bit forgiving, almost at the verge of anger. I would be thinking a little bit better than my opponents, the monsters. Hey, this is the real me? I am normal and I feel very normal when I feel anger, rage, fury and antagonism. Who’s not, anyway. I will tell you, you’re not a normal human being if you don’t feel red and orange. Reality check, my friends.

I couldn’t define myself when I am YELLOW. Maybe, it’s a sign when I am sick, when I am down with the flu. But when leaves turn yellow, it’s a sign that fall and autumn is at the bend.

GREEN means new life, new hope. I want to deal with green positively. I’ll never want to take the negative thought of turning me “green with envy”. Because green for me means a positive outlook in life. I love green because it represents my love for nature, my love for the scenic green, and the mountains with tall green trees, the vast ricefields while the palay are still growing up. The color green is pleasant to the eyes. It gives a refreshing feeling every time we look at the green panoramas around us.

Believe it or not but this is my favorite color. BLUE doesn’t mean I am blue, and I am sad. Blue to me is a color that gives me peace and quiet and contentment in life. It feels so cool in the eyes. My bed sheet is blue, my pillow case is blue. The curtains in my room are blue. The painting on the wall of my room is blue. And my electric fan is blue, my drawers are blue. Blue is everywhere in my room. And I love to stay in my room because it gives me a feeling of peace and contentment.

Between blue and violet is INDIGO. It’s hard for me to define and relate indigo to life. I would only interpret it this way. When you’re not blue and you’re not violet, then for sure you are indigo.

VIOLET represents women. Others would relate violet to mourning. But for me, it would represent women’s liberation. Gone were the days when women are left at home to care for the kids and the needs of the husband. We celebrate women’s day every February and that calls for a celebration of our liberation. Let’s associate violet with the positive and never with the negative.  

Below are the lyrics of the song Rainbow Connection. Let me share it with you and you may give it some serious thoughts while you associate or relate it to your real-life situations. 

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors.
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

And what’s in a rainbow? It makes us a hopeless romantic, a lover, a dreamer. Because we may believe that when we wish our wish may come true when we see a rainbow in the sky. There’s also a promise that at the end of the rainbow is a pot of gold.

Photos by: flopper @flickr.com; Nicolas Valentin @flickr.com; Zeb Andrews@flickr.com

Dad

As I was rummaging through some files and arranging them for proper safekeeping, my attention was caught by a card which my kids sent to their father during one of his birthdays. Inside it, I saw a poem which they dedicated to their father and I was so touched. It was written in a whole bond paper. Let me share it with you.

 DAD 

Remembering our childhood with you

Brings joy and tears to our eyes

   Joys for the times that you cared for us

With such tenderness like we were prince and princesses

Tears for the times when we would feel your

Painful but loving whip and thunderous voice

But now you work far away

We can feel your lonely absence

Though we know that the reason

You’ve gone is for our sake.

Still we miss you dearly,

We miss to hear your hearty laughter

We miss to hear your fatherly voice

We miss to feel your sweet embrace

We miss to feel your painful way of teaching us

What is right from wrong.

But most of all, we miss your presence with us Dad...

If we could only have wings to fly

We would fly miles between us

So that once again, we would feel the sweet

And tender love of a father like you.

We love and missed you so much,

Michelle, Kevin and Kenneth

2day is d 12th day of October, 2006 

P.S.

It could be gleaned from their message that they wrote said poem for their Dad becaused they missed his presense and everything a father has to offer for his children when he's with them. 

Photo: by bsnugs @flickr.com

Fantastic Dual Role

For quite some time now, I’ve already been used to playing dual roles to my kids at home – a father and a mother at the same time. Modern age dilemma you may say. Yes, probably. It is already an accepted norm. The father leaves home to work outside the country, thus leaving the mother alone to care for the children. But this sounds better than the opposite where the mother leaves to work abroad and the father will be left to tend for his children, thus assuming a more complicated dual role.                       

Playing both father and mother sometimes have some glitches. Imagine the thought that you’ll gonna have to accompany your boys to a doctor for the circumcision procedure? I have three kids, two are boys. When their age for circumcision came, sure, you guessed it right.

I could hardly find the right words to console them of the pain they underwent after the operation and most of all, I can’t do the task of cleaning and dressing their cuts so they’re left to themselves to the painful routine. I wanted to cry. I felt that I should not be the one doing this and that and if their father was around in those moments, he should have done it patiently. But thank God, we made it. My boys’ wounds healed through my fatherly supervision. I felt I was superman then.

My boys have regular visits to the barber shop. Again, while watching the barber cut my boys’ hair, I would again feel sad and reminds me of the thought that if their father would have been around in those moments, it would be to his delight to see his boys grow up and enjoy barber visits. But he tries to make up every time he’s with them. He would cajole them to go to the barber shop every after two or three weeks. Making up for lost times you know.

But being able to cope up with the demands of being a father and mother at the same time sounds fantastic isn’t it. My husband would always console me and would tell me that I should not be sad about it because in doing so, I deserve a medal for Supermoms. And that would surely put a smile on my lips, and it will make my heart fat and it will inflate my ego. Supermom, huh! Anyone out there? Join my club!