After a tiring day, my soul would always find peace in two things: first is opening my bible and second is listening to music. Music had always been part of my life ever since I was little. I still remember the sweet lullabies my mother sang me to sleep when we were still in Antique. My eyes would always close involuntarily as angelic notes transverse together to create a sonata of love.
Growing did not stop my love for music. It is still one of my comforts in my darkest and loneliest nights. At times, I give it the privilege to speak for me. I give it the right to say words my lips cannot utter. As a Christian, I find songs that cater to the need to the soul to be but of utmost importance. I love Praise and Worship sessions on Sundays. They make me start my week right.
Music had always been the best medium for me to unfasten my emotions.
Once upon a time, I fell in love with Superman.
Saw this in one of my folders. After watching ‘3 Idiots’ – an Indian movie staring Aamir Khan, I had the drive to him a letter. And this was the ‘supposed letter’ I was going to send him long ago. I can’t even remember when I wrote this. Maybe two years ago? All I know, is that academic year brought about great trials and his movie gave me answers to growing enigma of life.
You had always been one of my heroes. The roles you portrayed were epic and they have given me lessons more than my fingers can’t count nor my mind can’t ponder. I’m currently a College student living life at the arms of education with my eyes on the future – my goals, never losing consciousness that the world will never amount to life unless one will work for it. I know that life is a choice and the choices you make will always make a difference but I also understand that at times life can be race. A tragic epitome of losing the years when you were six and all you cared for was the fact that you can’t understand why bubbles are circles in shape because you always want them shaped like a star. A question neither a yes nor a no can answer.
Lately I’ve been watching your movies and they have been a part of my education in this place called life, I especially loved your movie “3 Idiots” sometimes I see myself as Farhan who is not quite sure if “Engineering” is something he wants to do for the rest of his life and at times I feel like Raju, scared of the future, of failing and of the pressure that this competitive world has imposed too much on my fragile age. Now, I realize I’m both of them combined. I’m 18, I’m in College and I don’t know where I’m going because I’m not sure if I’m in the right place. I’m scared of everything so I become frantic about living and I always view things harder than they are.
I’m not sure why I’m writing this maybe it’s because this next few months will bring me turmoil more than my mind can take and I’m not sure if I can make it out dead or alive, maybe it’s because life has just been so hard on me that I’m taking the time to jot down these thoughts of mine that are sure to be ephemeral. I realize now, that I’m doing this because I want to thank you for teaching me that things will get better no matter how yesterday or tomorrow will be. Thank you for teaching me to be passionate about the things I love. Life will just take its course with me rowing through the tides. Raju or Farhan I’m glad that I got to meet Rancho who taught me the simple philosophy of happiness and its premise.
All is Well
I had always been a fan of Kina’s music not because her songs denote the topic of sweetness or mushy interruptions of love. I like her because of the honesty in her songs and her subtle voice that serenades even the most broken of hearts. This song had been with me through ups and downs, mostly the downs. It speaks much of the situation where I thought my heart would explode into a million quarks that no amount of glue can put it back together. Music had always been my therapy. And at times, it speaks the words for me.
Plus, who on earth can resist this sweet girl?
How many times does a person fall in-love in one lifetime? If you say once, than I must say that you are lucky. By far, I have never met anyone who fell in-love once, I’m not sure if it’s how things are supposed to be but at times it’s how things should be. Courtship nowadays is an understatement to many. People meet as fast as they break-up – it’s a sad thought to consider. Saying ‘Yes’ when he asks the question must be done without hesitation, without second thoughts, without regret. The moment a girl says ‘Yes’ must be the exact moment where all the forces of the universe conspired to create the perfect moment.
I never let my schooling interfere with my education
The immortal words of Mark Twain.
When I first read Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’, my heart shrieked a sigh of satisfaction. Poe’s words were subtle yet haunting – macabre. They depicted the finesse of a true masterpiece carried by the absence of sanity and fostered by the love affair of a writer and his pen.
Poe among others had helped me develop my love for books and my passion for writing. Without his works I might be lost in the transcendence of stale words tangled together to conceive a story without a soul.
Indeed, literature had not only shaped my imagination, it triggered me to become a writer. The main culprit on why I sleep in the wee hours of mornings is the piles of books I grew to love ever since I was a child. Growing up, my parents had instilled in me the love for reading. From subtle yet abysmal subjects such as fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen, I evolved to deeper readings such as those of Jostein Gaarder, Antoine de Saint-Exupery and the Old Testament.
Much of my style in writing had been influenced by literature. Basically, because there is honesty and passion conveyed in literature, it has been a known fact that literature is an old art. Perfected by time and fused with a purpose to share knowledge, literature is a timeless beauty depicting the beauty of mythology and the glory of legends.
As a 21st century writer, classic literature had change me. In a world where people seldom find time to contemplate on childhood dreams, literature brings me back to the dreamer I was. It taught me to intertwine words and forge thoughts with premise.
Although, I am in love with writing editorials and establishing opinion I must say that literature made me become passionate about feature writing. It’s free-flowing structure has given me the freedom to write what I want and how to write it.
The best thing about reading literature, aside from the fact that it is a good read and it increases ones vocabulary is its power to develop thoughts and concepts as subjects for writing. Literature had given birth to millions of novels, poems and songs that it can considered the mother of all writing.
The establishment of literature in my opinion began when man developed the instinct to share his story. When man realized that spoken words change in consistency, he began to write. Ink has little to do with the establishment of the charisma of letters that form words and sentences. It is the mind and the heart filled with much devotion and respect to the craft that has been with man since the dawn of time.
Contemplating with what I just wrote, I realize that I had been moulded by literature to the extent that I associate myself not to the brilliance of great writers but to their love for writing. Their commitment in shaping the imagination and inspiring the heart is a feat conquered by few.
I hope someday that what I write will change perspectives, opinions and most of all hearts. I don’t really expect that anyone will give adulation to my works. But I do hope that they pause and remember my story – my words.
Bidding adieu to arrogance, literature has just done what is enough to give this world a chance to be speechless. I for one am a living proof of that notion. As I continue to write, day and night without ceasing I give ode to my literary heroes, to the people who influenced me greatly to share my story.
I had always been in love with diplomacy and its imperfections. Surely, confetti of inaugurated principles defining my destiny was alas in character when I decided that I’ll grow up to be a lawyer. I’d always picture myself to be in and out about ideals and principles that shape the notion of the global issues. I was in high school back then and my thoughts were preoccupied with the thought of political elocutions and how they either ‘trick or treat’ the people before/after an election. The scribbles in my journal are proofs of my undying interest to this ‘art’, pages and pages of unending dreams. It was indeed bliss to know where you want to be going, to know what to become.
Ironically, graduating from high school was another story. I was very much certain of my fate. What school to go to, what degree to take, my decisions were fostered with years of contemplation but magically I saw myself in the College of Mass Communications at WVSU lining for the entrance interview.
Days before this fate, I was in queue at the administration building, sure enough that I will take a degree far from the clutches from the so called ‘fourth estate’. I was with my mother, and for a million times she asked me if I was sure with my judgement. ‘Yes Ma, Pol.Sci kwaon ko, kung diri guid man ko ma.college’ those were my words. I admit they still echo without warning in my sleepless nights. She asked me a million times until finally she refutes a statement that made me consider. ‘Try mo MassComm’ – it was an okay bargain, if I like it I stay, if I don’t then I transfer, the freshmen year always has general subjects so shifting wouldn’t be a problem.
So there I was, sitting inside a radio room, the professor looks at me sternly as he reviews my application. Classical music by Bach or Mozart plays in the background easing my tension. I was awaiting my interpolation when he finally broke the silence. ‘So, why did you decide to take Journalism?’ it was a simple question yet it felt like the longest math equation I had to solve. I collected my thoughts and answered ‘Because I love writing, I had been writing since I was little’, I said some other words but my alibis when summarised would become this compound-sentence. He asked me again. And I was pretty sure that I just repeated what I previously said this time with my eyes rolling, looking beyond the freedom that is seemingly feign in this scenario.
I left the interview feeling like a train wreck. The professor who interviewed me was intimidating beyond compare. Little did I know that he’ll become one of the beloved mentors that will shape me as a person. The school year started with me still uncertain of my decision. Yes, writing was my passion, but journalism? I’m not really sure. Journalism has specific standards, an organized law that depicts what one will write and how to write it. Writing is free verse. It can be achieved with a plethora of emotions, a gist of nostalgia and a kiss of patience.
I was hanging by the moment, lost with passion and responsibility. Until, the same professor who interviewed me began to open my eyes to the concept of communication and its possibilities. Being a Journalist is not always about the rules, it is going beyond them. It is a test of moral strength – to write the truth or not? to be biased or not? Questions.
Journalism is more than a profession. It is an identity. And for three years and counting I have been attached to it immensely that I can see news, features, and editorials in the vista of a chewing gum trapped under an arm chair.
Journalism is a noble cause.
The day I loved journalism was not the time when I knew one of our teachers is a journalism graduate and a lawyer at the same time. Neither was it the moment I found out that Communication graduates are shaping the world with their pens and papers. No, it wasn’t even my fellow journalism students that made me see a clearer perspective of what I use to call ‘limitations’.
The day I loved Journalism was obviously the moment I wanted to be a journalist. It was the poignant understanding that I was selfish with my previous opinions. The realization that I can make a difference with what I write – encouraging and inspiring others.
It was the day I loved the thought of being a journalists that practices law or a lawyer that writes.
Nevertheless, it was the moment I finally knew why I took journalism.