Naglahong Pangalan at si Neil Gaiman
“The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names.”- Neil Gaiman’s Coraline
Madalas ikagulat, at noong lumaon ay unti-unting nakasanayan, ng aking mga kaibigan ang mga hirit kong: “naalala mo nung…?” Mukhang nakahiligan ko na talaga ang mang-ungkat ng mga (karamiha’y masasayang) alaala—kahit yung mga tipong isinantabi na sa pinakailalim ng baul na isinilid pa sa isang nakakandadong bodega. At madalas rin sasalubungin ang tanong ko ng isang blankong mukhang nakatingin sa kawalan, ligaw sa paghagilap ng nakaraan, tapos ay namamanghang sasabihin sakin: “Grabe, Des, naalala mo pa yun?”
Nung bata ako, dahil na rin sa madali nga akong makaalala, naging papel ko na ang maging taga-hanap ng mga nawawalang gamit sa bahay. Pero hinala ko medyo selective memory e--minsan kasi pumapalya rin naman ako, na ika nga ng kabiruan kong kaibigan sa opisina e epekto ng aming lumalala, at mas lumalala pang “memory gap.” (Mas matindi nga lang siya, kasi ultimo short term memory niya e defective na, hehe:>) Nitong huli ko lang nabigyan ng mas maliwanag na pinaggagalingan itong “penomenang” ito (hindi yung memory gap a): dyslexic raw kasi ako, at karamihan ng mga dyslexic ay may matinding memorya.
(Oo, dyslexic ako, dahilan rin kung bakit ako bad typist at maraming typo ang mga manuscript ko. Huling patunay e sa trabaho: pabaligtad kong tinype ang isang sentence, na napansin ko lang nang muli kong balikan yung translation ko. Ilang linggo rin bago humupa yung issue na yun hehe:>)
Marami nang nagsabi sakin na swerte ako dahil biyaya ang matalas na memorya at sang-ayon naman ako, lalo na nung nag-aaral pa ako o kaya e kapag nangangailangan ng blackmail material. Biro lang yung huli. Pero minsan nagulantang ako ng isang kabatiran: hindi kaya masama rin ang sobrang pagbabalik-tanaw? Hindi kaya nabubuhay na lang ako sa nakaraan? Napag-iiwanan na ba ako ng kasalukuyan?
Bigla ko yang naisip dahil hanggang ngayon hirap pa rin akong lumimot. Lalo na ng mga sandaling alam kong ‘di na pwedeng balikan. Parang lahat e umusad na’t marami na rin atang nakalimot nang tuluyan. Ikaw kaya, naiisip mo pa ba ako minsan? Nakalimutan mo na rin kaya ang aking pangalan?
***
Waiting is indeed a monumental decision. Kit gave this to me as an option twice, the first instance I’d rather not talk about, the second one I wish to share—the real reason I brought this up in the first place.
“Are you going to wait it out?” seemed to be the question I’ve heard some million times at the Neil Gaiman book signing at Fully Booked in Greenhills last Sunday. When we came around past eleven, hoping more than actually believing that we were still early, a foreboding sight of about a thousand people welcomed us. No kidding. There were two queues, one with those lucky bastards with guaranteed stubs, and the other one which I called the “risk line.” Risk is the perfect word; because later we were informed that Mister Gaiman was completely exhausted from the previous night’s event that he can only accommodate those fortunate souls with sure stubs and cannot—will not—accommodate people after 7:30 p.m. Nearing six thirty a beefy bouncer strides over to where we staunchly held our place, then said with a face asking for punching: “So, ano? Manunuod na lang talaga kayo dyan? Tapos na talaga ‘to e, no.” So what comes after 7:30 p.m.? Disillusionment? Shattered, broken, destroyed dreams? A murder record? After six hours of waiting one is really capable of doing anyone bodily harm no matter how gargantuan the adversary is. Still, there was a glimmer of hope. Not yet seven-thirty, everyone reassures one another, plus some kindly faces of the organizers and the owner Jaime Daez while assessing the situation. Then there’s Mister Gaiman himself, who smiled when we cheered him on every time the glass door expelled happy people from inside the store.
It was almost seven when Mister Daez reaffirmed my faith in God, and my belief that man is innately good (except maybe for that bouncer): lucky, lucky fifty people will be given the chance to have two books signed, with specific instructions though: no asking Mister Gaiman to pose for a picture, open the book to the page you want signed etc. Kit and I lucked out (with enormous help from friends hahaha)—we held the fourth and fifth places. And then THE moment:
Neil: So, your name is Des?
Me: That’s right.
(The Fully Booked people taking pictures asked me if I wanted mine taken, and as I nodded my assent Neil Gaiman looked up and asked me if I wanted him to pose for it. I must have kept nodding because he suddenly looked at the camera and smiled. I’ll post the pictures soon as I receive it on my email so that you’ll see how stupid my reaction was.)
Me: Sir, I just have to say thank you for your gift of word.
I honestly don’t know why I said that. But I think my lack of saying anything wittier paid off because after he drew and signed on my books he looked up to me and said:
Neil: For that, do you want a hug?
Me: (Shocked silence, from which I recovered after a few seconds) Yes, please!
The feeling after is indescribable. The only thing I could say is this: it was well worth all the wait.
Madalas ikagulat, at noong lumaon ay unti-unting nakasanayan, ng aking mga kaibigan ang mga hirit kong: “naalala mo nung…?” Mukhang nakahiligan ko na talaga ang mang-ungkat ng mga (karamiha’y masasayang) alaala—kahit yung mga tipong isinantabi na sa pinakailalim ng baul na isinilid pa sa isang nakakandadong bodega. At madalas rin sasalubungin ang tanong ko ng isang blankong mukhang nakatingin sa kawalan, ligaw sa paghagilap ng nakaraan, tapos ay namamanghang sasabihin sakin: “Grabe, Des, naalala mo pa yun?”
Nung bata ako, dahil na rin sa madali nga akong makaalala, naging papel ko na ang maging taga-hanap ng mga nawawalang gamit sa bahay. Pero hinala ko medyo selective memory e--minsan kasi pumapalya rin naman ako, na ika nga ng kabiruan kong kaibigan sa opisina e epekto ng aming lumalala, at mas lumalala pang “memory gap.” (Mas matindi nga lang siya, kasi ultimo short term memory niya e defective na, hehe:>) Nitong huli ko lang nabigyan ng mas maliwanag na pinaggagalingan itong “penomenang” ito (hindi yung memory gap a): dyslexic raw kasi ako, at karamihan ng mga dyslexic ay may matinding memorya.
(Oo, dyslexic ako, dahilan rin kung bakit ako bad typist at maraming typo ang mga manuscript ko. Huling patunay e sa trabaho: pabaligtad kong tinype ang isang sentence, na napansin ko lang nang muli kong balikan yung translation ko. Ilang linggo rin bago humupa yung issue na yun hehe:>)
Marami nang nagsabi sakin na swerte ako dahil biyaya ang matalas na memorya at sang-ayon naman ako, lalo na nung nag-aaral pa ako o kaya e kapag nangangailangan ng blackmail material. Biro lang yung huli. Pero minsan nagulantang ako ng isang kabatiran: hindi kaya masama rin ang sobrang pagbabalik-tanaw? Hindi kaya nabubuhay na lang ako sa nakaraan? Napag-iiwanan na ba ako ng kasalukuyan?
Bigla ko yang naisip dahil hanggang ngayon hirap pa rin akong lumimot. Lalo na ng mga sandaling alam kong ‘di na pwedeng balikan. Parang lahat e umusad na’t marami na rin atang nakalimot nang tuluyan. Ikaw kaya, naiisip mo pa ba ako minsan? Nakalimutan mo na rin kaya ang aking pangalan?
***
Waiting is indeed a monumental decision. Kit gave this to me as an option twice, the first instance I’d rather not talk about, the second one I wish to share—the real reason I brought this up in the first place.
“Are you going to wait it out?” seemed to be the question I’ve heard some million times at the Neil Gaiman book signing at Fully Booked in Greenhills last Sunday. When we came around past eleven, hoping more than actually believing that we were still early, a foreboding sight of about a thousand people welcomed us. No kidding. There were two queues, one with those lucky bastards with guaranteed stubs, and the other one which I called the “risk line.” Risk is the perfect word; because later we were informed that Mister Gaiman was completely exhausted from the previous night’s event that he can only accommodate those fortunate souls with sure stubs and cannot—will not—accommodate people after 7:30 p.m. Nearing six thirty a beefy bouncer strides over to where we staunchly held our place, then said with a face asking for punching: “So, ano? Manunuod na lang talaga kayo dyan? Tapos na talaga ‘to e, no.” So what comes after 7:30 p.m.? Disillusionment? Shattered, broken, destroyed dreams? A murder record? After six hours of waiting one is really capable of doing anyone bodily harm no matter how gargantuan the adversary is. Still, there was a glimmer of hope. Not yet seven-thirty, everyone reassures one another, plus some kindly faces of the organizers and the owner Jaime Daez while assessing the situation. Then there’s Mister Gaiman himself, who smiled when we cheered him on every time the glass door expelled happy people from inside the store.
It was almost seven when Mister Daez reaffirmed my faith in God, and my belief that man is innately good (except maybe for that bouncer): lucky, lucky fifty people will be given the chance to have two books signed, with specific instructions though: no asking Mister Gaiman to pose for a picture, open the book to the page you want signed etc. Kit and I lucked out (with enormous help from friends hahaha)—we held the fourth and fifth places. And then THE moment:
Neil: So, your name is Des?
Me: That’s right.
(The Fully Booked people taking pictures asked me if I wanted mine taken, and as I nodded my assent Neil Gaiman looked up and asked me if I wanted him to pose for it. I must have kept nodding because he suddenly looked at the camera and smiled. I’ll post the pictures soon as I receive it on my email so that you’ll see how stupid my reaction was.)
Me: Sir, I just have to say thank you for your gift of word.
I honestly don’t know why I said that. But I think my lack of saying anything wittier paid off because after he drew and signed on my books he looked up to me and said:
Neil: For that, do you want a hug?
Me: (Shocked silence, from which I recovered after a few seconds) Yes, please!
The feeling after is indescribable. The only thing I could say is this: it was well worth all the wait.
posted by hija_giovanna at 10:49 PM
7 Comments:
Naiinggit ako!
sayang talaga, nek. sana sumunod ka samin ni kit--naging crucial lang naman mga 5pm onwards. masaya, i swear. nakapag-bond pa sana tayo. biruin mo, mahigit walong oras kami andun?
Talaga no. grabehang sakit sa paa. Pero sabi ko nga kay Jaymee, hindi siguro ako mageenjoy ng ganun kung madalin akong nakapagpasign at umalis na lang pagkatapos.
Anyhow, my current philosophy is: Kung kailangang maghintay (maghintay makalimot, mamanhid, magmirakulo, whatever) eh di maghintay. Buti sana kung mamatay na lang, pero hindi nangyayari yun eh. So, no other option but to wait.
(Ang hirap magbasa ng Tagalog.) Heheheh.
tama, hanggang ngayon masakit pa ang mga kasu-kasuan ko hahaha=) pero ayos lang, sabi ko nga, walang masama sa paghihintay lalo na kung worth it naman yung hinihintay mo. at tama, nakakadagdag ang paghihintay sa satisfaction 'pag nakuha mo na yung hinihintay mo.=)
totoo, mahirap magbasa 'pag tagalog. pero ang sarap magsulat kaya nawiwili ako, hehe=)
Wait lang, may instances na kailangan mong maghintay nang hindi mo alam kung may kahihinatanang maganda yung hinihintay mo. Blind faith kumbaga.
ako nga pala ito. Can't you tell I'm bored? =)
hehe, hindi naman masyadong halatang bored ka, kit=)
that's right, at muli, mas nakakadagdag nga yun sa satisfaction. yung wala bang katiyakan ang hinihintay mo.
nga pala, mukhang walang natanggap na fax for ms. d. kailan mo ba kailangan? gusto mo personal mo na ibigay yung request para mas madali?
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