The "lost" poet...

Everytime I'm home, my dadiyow keeps on bugging me to sort out my stuff from our old apartment. Looking at the piles of old notes from my "previous" life as a student, a teacher and a researcher, the mere idea of going through them and throwing away some, makes me cringe.

Yes, I admit, I am a hoarder!!!

Last time I was home though, I mustered enough "intention"  to actually have a look at my hoard. And geezzz, I spent almost the whole day looking at old photos, loveletters from years back (and from, eherrrmmm, old loves - note: plural! :)), art and literary works I did in the past.

One of the treasures I found is this old poem - written in May 1989 ! Yap, more than 23 years ago, when I was a university sophomore...and modesty aside, it was good!

A "great" work rediscovered.....

I can't remember what inspired me to write such a haunting work. I can venture a guess but somebody will not like it. :)

Please, pardon the self-praise - I can't help it! This lady is gooood!!! Look at those big words - oblivion, feeble, vex...used when Google is not around yet! Feel the emotions - melancholic, despondent yet with a tinge of promise in the end!

Actually, the poet in Melai has been hibernating for far too long now. I remembered that back in high school, I used to do lots of them (awful that I cant find any of them anymore). Back then, I'm probably more in touch with my inner self or I just had more inspiration or more time or all of the above!

I'm not sure I could write something like this anymore. I'm (probably) too far gone into science and engineering, I lost touch with the "muse". Ahhhh, what I would give just to be re-acquianted with her again...

You know, just to have a more appropriate last sentence in the poem I would change it to "And yes, I just have to...." , to rhyme with "you".  But my 18 year-old self, may not like that "ending".

By the way, back to my sorting - you guessed it....I did not throw a single sheet! :) Dadiyow is surely just shaking his head....

Cat's Dance...

....a tragic lesson on industrialization.
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I used to just teach about it - preaching the ill-effects of methyl mercury on human health and the environment. Now, after having the opportunity to visit the place,  I have a better understanding of the environmental tragedy that struck the small town of Minamata and the consequences of the disease it is more widely known for.

The small, idyllic town of Minamata

Minamata is a small, idyllic town in the Kumamoto Prefecture on Kyushu Island in Southern Japan. The town's lush, picturesque scenery is a visual delight that it was so difficult for me to reconcile my preconceived images to what I was seeing. 

It was hard to imagine, in fact, that around 60 years ago, in this same paradise, a young girl of five was found to have unusual neurological symptoms. She had convulsions and difficulties in walking and speaking. Also, around this time, strange behaviors in cats,  who tended to eat scraps from family tables, were observed - wildly running around, convulsing, going mad and drowning themselves. Thus, the term "cat's dance."

Crippled hand of a Minamata disease victim

The epidemic, popularly known as Minamata Disease,  was traced to methyl mercury poisoning associated with daily consumption of large quantities of shellfish heavily contaminated with the toxic chemical. The culprit was a chemical company called Chisso Corporation - once the very definition of industrialization in Japan. Methyl mercury was a byproduct in the manufacture of acetaldehyde synthesized by the hydrolysis of acetylene using mercury as catalyst.

A visit to the Minamata Disease Municipal Museum revealed the long and difficult struggle of the local populace to be compensated for their sufferings. The museum relays the experiences of pain and discrimination through visual displays as well as by oral historians who give personal, first-hand accounts of their experiences.

The road to "mea culpa" was a circuitous one. Even with mounting evidences, it took the government 12 years (in 1968) to officially declare that methyl mercury discharged from Chisso Corporation was the cause of the disease.

Scratches on the wall in one hospital made during episodic convulsions of the victims

Minamata disease is definitely one of the most significant negative consequences associated with industrialization with little consideration to the environment. The lesson is learned, however, and today, there is a unified (and very, very expensive!!) action to regain this lost paradise.


There is hope until the CAT DANCES NO MORE.....

There is hope...

I write...

This was written back in February 2006 while I was in Japan and is being shared to basically fathom why I write..
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It’s been a while since I’ve last written anything of substance… and I am not about to start now…he..he..he..

You know, back in high school, I thought I would make a great writer – a Palanca awardee. Yes, right, THAT sort of writer. Obviously, I did not become one – a great writer, I mean.  I DO write about anything and everything, though,  which I guess, make me a writer.

I write about everyday mundane things -the breaking of dawn bringing a new day, new hope, the setting of the sun sharing its calm and tranquility to our otherwise harried lives,   the coming of rain refreshing the soul.  I write about taking a jeepney ride and rejoice in the knowledge that in life you chose your directions. I write about household chores,  about brushing my teeth, watching tv….

I write about people – about families and the ties that bind them, about life partners and the serendipity involved in meeting them. I write about children and the innocence of their questions.  I write about teachers and the nobility of their profession. I write  about manong magbobote,  my nosy neighbor, my feisty nephew…

I write about emotions – about love conquering all, about unbridled passion, about mastering fear. I write about beautiful sadness, about brimming joy. I celebrate pain and happiness in my writings.

I write about  events -  of  the birth of a baby, the metamorphosis of a sweet child into a young lady, of walking the aisle in pure bliss, about aging gracefully and welcoming the bittersweet call of the end. Yes, I write about LIFE but have never fully grasped the mysteries of it.

I write about places - the charm of Europe, the grandiose of Britain,  the mystery of Asia. But most of all, I write about HOME.

I write about science and engineering – of photocatalysis , advanced oxidation and reaction kinetics – because these I write to put butter in my bread.

I write about topics all writers seem to write about.  Thus, I expound on taking risks and paid my respects to the turtle who can only make progress by sticking its head out. I write about success and appreciated the vast and differing insights on it. I write about politics and realized how boring it really is.

I write about how I rejoice in my writings.  No matter how profound or meaningless they are.  I bask in the quietude of the moment when I write.  I pour my thoughts out and what come out mirrors my soul. I feel alive when I write.

Then came text and e-mails.... and I fear for writing.