In the pit of the city, I found sentience.
Every day, I wake up and open my eyes to the sight of a window shrouded with curtains.
A pallid landscape awaits outside.
There is not much to see.
Corrugated roofs and wooden walls of houses block the view. Sunlight hurts the eyes, as I am more accustomed to the ethereal beauty of darkness.
Dust floats in the air, carried over by the toxic wind from the nearby highway. The wail of a PNR train can be heard in the distance; the rumble of the LRT coaches usher in a new day, and when a dense neighbor decides to play crappy songs on full volume, pandemonium awaits.
Gone is the peace within my small quarters.
On paved ground, potted plants try to break the monotony of concrete. Neglected of attention, (the people look after their laundry first before their neighbors) they have turned hardy through the years. At the entrance of the driveway, there is a high wall separating the piles of rubble across.
On its summit, a small tree decides to grow long roots, sturdy branches and big leaves.
Someday, it will be cut down, or the high wall would crumble under its weight.
In the heart of the city often under a blanket of brown smoke and engine noises; where shrubs are forced to grow in dry plant boxes; where branches of trees are cut down to make way for telephone wires; and where trash reeks its putrid smell in street corners - and is feasted upon by stray creatures at past midnight, it is easy to see how my world turned me into a treehugger.
I cannot stand the steady corrosion of it all.
In the hidden realms of my daydreams, I long to hear the symphony of rustling leaves; I wish for burning leaves to waft under my nose, and the cool wind to brush my skin. I'd like to be shaded from the sun, not by a tenement housing but of canopies of evergreen. I'd like to see life - beyond this broken humanity, far from monolith buildings selling material excesses of the world, and away from gentle open spaces turned into hard pavements.
If only the ones with money realize what they are bound to lose - in the long run.
Surely it would dawn on them that there is more to life than some silly "environment friendly" buildings.
Every day, I wake up and open my eyes to the sight of a window shrouded with curtains.
A pallid landscape awaits outside.
There is not much to see.
Corrugated roofs and wooden walls of houses block the view. Sunlight hurts the eyes, as I am more accustomed to the ethereal beauty of darkness.
Dust floats in the air, carried over by the toxic wind from the nearby highway. The wail of a PNR train can be heard in the distance; the rumble of the LRT coaches usher in a new day, and when a dense neighbor decides to play crappy songs on full volume, pandemonium awaits.
Gone is the peace within my small quarters.
On paved ground, potted plants try to break the monotony of concrete. Neglected of attention, (the people look after their laundry first before their neighbors) they have turned hardy through the years. At the entrance of the driveway, there is a high wall separating the piles of rubble across.
On its summit, a small tree decides to grow long roots, sturdy branches and big leaves.
Someday, it will be cut down, or the high wall would crumble under its weight.
In the heart of the city often under a blanket of brown smoke and engine noises; where shrubs are forced to grow in dry plant boxes; where branches of trees are cut down to make way for telephone wires; and where trash reeks its putrid smell in street corners - and is feasted upon by stray creatures at past midnight, it is easy to see how my world turned me into a treehugger.
I cannot stand the steady corrosion of it all.
In the hidden realms of my daydreams, I long to hear the symphony of rustling leaves; I wish for burning leaves to waft under my nose, and the cool wind to brush my skin. I'd like to be shaded from the sun, not by a tenement housing but of canopies of evergreen. I'd like to see life - beyond this broken humanity, far from monolith buildings selling material excesses of the world, and away from gentle open spaces turned into hard pavements.
If only the ones with money realize what they are bound to lose - in the long run.
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Surely it would dawn on them that there is more to life than some silly "environment friendly" buildings.
8 comments:
nice one, kuya joms! :) napa-tula tuloy ako bigla nang: Trees hehehe.. :P
it is so illogical how they plan, actually, even just conceive a thought of cutting nearly 200 trees! I hope that it doesn't happen.
kalungkot nga ito... cannot imagine that part bald and bare.. pitiful idea, really.
howbout planting one once a year, on ones birthday perhaps?
i did a number but only 2 survived, both at least 25 years old (human-age not the tree-ring dating)
did you keep tab on yours?
The detail you put on this left me in awe... :)
i don't know if you remember the time we converse, you said, you prefer staying sa simple at mapunong lugar.
i also remember my philosophy professor and he said to become a great person one must plant a tree.
what if we have this project of plant a tree every birthday. hehe
DocCed:
Magandang idea yun. Kaso hindi ko alam kung meron organization or even a company that lets you plant trees for your birthday. Hehe.
If meron, I will share it with you.
Leo:
Thank you.
Bien:
I haven't planted a tree yet. Paano mo ginawa yun, saka saan?
Zai:
Apparently, DPWH does the same thing - sa McArthur Highway.
Nate.
Hahaha. :)
Ok since you asked, the Malunggay tree (seeds) and the Injan tree (seedling).
Sa gilid lang ng bahay namin sa probinsya. My father planted more having joined several alay-lakads and my mother too, being a gov't official, so there.
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