untitled
Posted by jab at 12:45 PM on February 20, 2006.
Driving on the way home in the busy wet streets of Manila is both relaxing and unsettling. You can't wait to lay your back on your bed and hug that soft pillow and lull yourself to sleep.
A knock on your car gave a pause to what was already relaxing. It was a blind woman with a six year old boy holding her hand. You look at them both and ask yourself why they are outside in the rain in clothes you wouldnt even wash your car with. You think their eyes are piercing you but you know that your windows tint will not let that. You look at the stop light and reach for your cars ash tray that has all your coins. You rolled down your window just enough for half your hand to hand them the coins.
The light turns green, you wiped your hand that handed the money on your jeans justifying to yourself that it was wet becuase of the rain.
When you got home you washed your hands and your face. Brushed your teeth and got ready for bed. It was a good days work, alas, its just tuesday tomorrow.
On your way out the bathroom you saw at the corner of your eye a little pest. The cockroach was crawling up the wall right beside the toilet. Stealthily you reach for your right tsinelas, and with ninja like precision you throw it at the critter.
A pause.
Good shot.
What remains of the critter was now on a larger area of the wall and the floor, not to mention your tsinelas. But, oh well... That's that. Walis and tissue cleans everything up. You wash your hands again and you find yourself wiping your hand on your PJ's.
While fluffing your pillow you remember the face of the woman and the child in the rain. You remember their eyes; one pair of blind eyes and another pair that was wishing it was not seeing what is reality for him. Unconsciously you wipe the same hand for the third time on the same spot.
In your bed, comfortable under the sheets with the pitter patter of the rain you wonder why you think you're going to have a hard time sleeping tonight.
You ask yourself. Are there more of them out there? What should I do? That one little thing that I did was probably an insignificant act to help the situation. How will I be able so sleep tonight knowing that that one little thing that I saw earlier would definitely mean there are more of them. Out there in the dark, in the shadows of society, there's more of them. They are there waiting for our scraps, feeding on our left overs, on our dirt.
You ask yourself: "How will I get rid of those raoches?"