On my first homecoming
On my first homecoming, after a year of being away from the Philippine seas, the first thing that I checked out upon arriving at my old rented house was the physical status of my almost a thousand books left indefinitely. I pitied them. Road dusts (due to the disgusting Dampas road) covered the carton boxes, which were used by my sister to store the treasures of her brother. How can I ship all the books to Thailand? I sighed. Who will read these books while I’m away. None. Except dusts.
On the day of my flight back to Thailand, I unpacked the carton boxes. Thanks there was Stephen Cagulada. To him I surrendered all copies of my National Geographic collection. That took out a space in the sala where the carton boxes are piling up.
Then I found a volume of diary and another volume of journal which contain my private thoughts and emotions chronicled since 12 years ago, writings that were originally intended to be forever private - but not perhaps until the day someone might discover them - that is after my return to dust. What shall I do with these almost a thousand pages of diary and journal? I asked myself. If I could no longer return to the Philippines, what will happen to these writings? An hour before my flight, I grabbed my ancient diary and not-so-recent journal and placed them in my bag. I know now what to do.
Yes, I know now what to do.