Gaps, patches and in-betweens

My hands tingle with the uncertainty of every day. Like the feeling you get when you dream that you are falling. Four months into the lockdown. The defenses so far are: using space as barriers, putting shields and masks over our smiles and threats or direct violence to make people obey.  I got flustered one weekend trip to the grocery because a man was paranoid that I was getting too close to him. My protest is muffled behind the face mask. I hold back my retort. I can imagine the nasty words if he did that to someone else.  My youngest is starting college w ithout the ceremony and final picture proof of the past six years in junior high.   My protest is muffled behind the face mask and the attempt to not give in to quarantine fatigue. 160 thousand positive cases, every other week declaration of whether we are allowed to go out and no concrete plan in sight for the future.  My protest is muffled behind the face mask. I  attempt to not give in to quarantine...

I am an acronym. Specifically, I am an LSI. Locally stranded individual. I am also negative. As I've told people I've shared my COVID-19 status with, I never thought being negative can feel so... positive.  As in any era, language has adapted to the times. Clichés abound within this environment of uncertainty. My pet peeve is 'amid/amidst'.  In a land where people cough up acronyms and abbreviate everything, during a time of omg, ikr, smh, five months into lockdown, we swim in acronyms: APOR, all the quarantine classifications - ECQ, MECQ, GCQ, MGCQ and tomorrow they're introducing another one with a new set of do's and don'ts.  Instead of putting those that have not been thought about within an existing label, we create a new one each and every time until it all gets muddled up and loses meaning.  Then we are called stubborn. They send the police to address a health issue and use intimidation to answer livelihood.  Now people don't know anymore and thus...

We were never an outspoken "I love you" family but we had the not-so-perfunctory kiss when leaving and arriving. Those pecks on one cheek for me meant every unspoken word it stood for - Don't worry. I'll take care. Wish me luck on my errand. I'll try not to come home too late.  I had a good day. We lost the volleyball game but I saw my crush. I am dreading our piano lesson on Sunday.  I'll do my homework now. Without the kiss, our outings would have been illegal. It meant we snuck out, you and Papa were already asleep and it was really late.  I was always more afraid of Papa. With you, I can reason. With Papa, I just walk out and did not come back until he was ready to forgive and I, him.  I did not dare kiss him during his last days. One time,  I was trying to exercise his legs and he kicked, like wanting to shake off my hands, hating the feeling of not being able to move them himself.  He attempted to throw a pillow at my daughter, mistaking ...

I can watch sunsets now. Everyday. Around this time two months ago before the lockdown, I would be in the office in a silent debate about whether to stay a bit more and let the mad rush pass or brave it and go home. I would look through the office's floor-to-ceiling windows with the sea of backlights and headlights confirming the state of traffic affairs below. With the windows draped, it is the same level of lighting the whole day, every day. The only sign that it was time for anything was the notifications on your laptop, your laptop's clock, the clock on the wall or people moving about - to have lunch, snack and go home, trickling away one by one until almost everyone is gone. Leaving the office, I would be confronted with sights of cars, traffic lights and people walking. If I am lucky and on cooler nights when I'm not wearing heels, I'd see the moon as I walk, the stars too faint to cut through Manila smog. Now, my signal that the day is about to end is the...

Almost two months on enhanced community quarantine, being forced to stay home does something to you. You are bombarded with news and social media in an attempt to keep connected to the world that is just outside but you cannot step into. You are here, but you cannot be outside. Some people have commented on how the virus does not choose: race, age, gender, economic status, etc. Though everyone is indeed affected, as our global equality, diversity and inclusion lead said, we are affected and isolating all at the same time, yes. But we are doing it in different rooms looking at it from different balconies. Or something like that. The virus had to strike during summer here in the Philippines. For people living in the slum areas in urban Manila, that is the worse time to be stuck at home.  There was a news story where the mayor of Manila had to put a barangay in lockdown because people just defied the stay-at-home government order. People trooped outside and watched a boxi...

Dear Diru, Of course, you will not be spared from my letter. Your sister got one. Now it is your turn. You have to understand why it is difficult for us to let you go, even as you turn 18 today. First, you like to get lost, which is easy enough because second, you have no sense of direction. You are very young. Too young to wander off on your own. You will never be too old, at least never any older than us, or to us, my Dear. But that would be our defeat and failure—if we do not let you go. You will always be my baby. But alas your superpower cancels out mine. You are growing too fast, too soon. And it would not be fair for me to stop time even if I can because you have so many plans and dreams that they have no choice but to come true. One. By two. By three and so on until you don’t have to play the reiki anymore for a wish, only for its soothing and calming powers as you embrace all you have manifested. I want to keep holding on to your soft yet strong hands that I once des...

A stranger's distance where I can't see what he's chuckling a t on his phone is farther than the family faces less than two feet away on a vid call from home Thank heavens for digital technology.  I can't travel, you see.  Sanctioned by an invisible bug Delivered in incomprehensible late-night ramblings,  a few heart tugs were attempted  then back to threats for violating your orders- the usual kill, beg and now steal. I thought you are worried about my health and well-being? 'Yes and I will gun you down if you keep protesting.' Alright.  I will keep to my side but you make sure you do not invade my rights. The silence in the queue is deafening yet expected and again we turn to our phones I can't breathe much less talk through the mask  you make me wear when we go out of our homes. And these strangers around me  won't be able  to see me break into a sweat or hear my wheezing  as I run out of breath and start heavi...