There IS a reason!

By Emmanuelle

AND so we come to the nitty gritty of things. For your flat nose, the failed Board score at first test, the job that was yours almost, the lover who had gotten over you fast, the party that flopped, the cake that flopped with it as well. And the window-grabbing child that you wish to be not yours.

There is a reason it is so. There is a reason it is not so. And I am being kind and single at this point. And I mean not my status.

When things, or people, or events go wrong at first light, you do not raise both hands to heaven hopelessly and helplessly, splaying all fingers out, entangling your hair in twitchy witchy mess. You do not raise your voice to royal coarseness even hoarseness, asking that which no one may have the knowledge nor the grace to answer for you. Why? Bakit? Akin? Apay? Basi?

You know the answer, princess. The answer is the pea beneath all the layers of sheets and foams and blankets and soft pillows.

The flat nose? It is all in the genes. Or you slept too much on your face. From birth to all the tired moments you fell flat on your bed. Or the pillow you squashed on your head to keep out the light, the noise. Life, in general. The partner, in particular.

The failed Board exam? You studied too much or too little. You were too self-confident. Or you had no confidence in yourself at all. You knew the right answers, but you believed you did not. Multiple choices gave you multiple choices, even if these were just from a to d, and d is none or all of the above. You would rather fill in the blanks. You were claustrophobic, agoraphobic; the testing room was not the place for you. And the fellow test-takers did not mix well with your cup of tea.

The job that was yours, almost? It was not yours even in your dreams. You were over or under qualified. You like your nights in bed, not with earphones and some strangers lisping strange English into your head. And if you were angling for some high-paying deskjob, really now! You were a bad paper-shuffler to begin with. You cannot even find the period to end the complexities of your sentence.

The lover that has gotten over you fast? Actually, you had gotten over her or him first! And that was very soon after, or a little later after the engagement or the tying of the knots. The awakening did not necessarily occur at the same time as the unraveling. The unraveling may come years, even decades later. At the same time or thereabouts you become unglued, hazily forgetful, even lightly crazed. About things, and people, and events. The golden olden age.

The cake that flopped? You beat the stuff too much or too little. You closed the oven-door so loudly and not so gently. The mixes were not properly measured or mixed in the proper order. You must mix the ingredients first before you bake them rock solid.

And the party that flopped? You must have had such lousy friends and relatives in the first place. When you have the best of friends and cousins, and nieces and nephews, and aunties and uncles û who needs to have parties? Every meeting is a joy to behold. Just butong pakwan, chicharon and pitchers and pitchers of cold drinks down the throat. No parties. No need for parting either.

And at this point, I remember the bakeshop in Sagada. Signs would announce Bakeshop and an arrow would point the direction to where. When you reach the bakeshop, the sign over the bakeshop says Bakeshop. And all that smells delicious and is delicious emanate from within. And that is all you need to know.

There is a lesson within and without these rumblings. Answers to questions are really questions to your answers. You know it. It knows you.

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