on me. I had nobody to get back to! The people around who’s sleeping weren’t intimidated nor awaken by their conversation. It’s normal to them there. The old man continues,
“ So speak! Why are you silent? Speak! What can you say?”
Now, seated on my carton bed, staring at him surprised and astounded I said, “ thank you, goodnight and let’s sleep,” saying it sarcastically. The man lied down and slept.
I lay down and can’t quite get to sleep immediately. My right arm on my forehead, a thought came to me. MONEY. Why do people need money? Why I need money? And why people’s happiness connected to it? We need money yes but why is it that when a person don’t have it causes them to be hot headed and irate? I don’t quite get it. Why I’m easily angered and irritated when I don’t have any money? I guess I don’t want any problem arising from lack of it. Every movement you make nowadays needs money. You can’t go to any point without spending. You cannot. You need to spend. So people tend to be irritable when facing problems and I tell you nobody wants any problems.
Why is it then that money makes a person into many things? I asked myself. And slowly my eyes shut and I was awaken by the sunlight shining on my face. As I sit but eyes shut, I hear many things. Of course people walking by and cars passing by. But I don’t hear the old man and the middle aged man. I opened my eyes and look at the direction they were laid down. There’s the old man fast asleep on his carton made bed. I shook him and he’s not moving. “Come on old man, wake up. It’s already noon I joked.” But he still did not move. My heart’s pounding becomes faster and faster. A worried face I have and as I continue to wake him up tears flowed down my face. “Hey old man wake up wake up. Stand up and we’ll have to get plastics and tins and aluminum and buy our food. There’s lot to do and it’s late morning already! Saying these words in an ever increasing tone and my voice breaking about to cry.
He’s dead! The old man, my companion and confidant is dead already. Crying, the other vagabonds came closer and formed a circle around us. I stood up and we brought the body to a funeral parlor and an employee there recognizes the man. “It’s Mang Teban”, the man exclaimed. I asked, did you know this person? She said yes. He’s one of the riches people in our town province. His children are seeking for him for a long, long time. “Is he insane?” asked the woman. Told her no he’s not. Actually, he’s the one who taught me how to live in the streets for quite some time now. But he’s never telling his story, what happened to him. The woman like a storyteller told us his story.
“ He was a professional, an engineer. He has two sons and two daughters and by now they’re all professionals too. They have their own families and they’re all rich. His wife died of a disease for about 5 years now. The story said that Mang Teban lost his mind and became a “taong grasa” (meaning a vagabond not bathing that his skin complexion became that of a grease because of the dirt and mud). No one knows why.”
I interrupted her saying, “ for the time that I was with him, he never spoke about his past but I can sense and feel the pain of his past.” Ah, the woman reacted.
I bade farewell to the employee as she picked the phone to call the family.
As I walk not knowing where to go, something can’t get out of my mind. I kept thinking that it’s all a waste. How come he wasted his life? With that good standing in the society, with a family and sons and daughters in a stable situation. How come he chose this life and leaves that good one? I walk and walk and think and think until I reach the forest.
(With continuation)
“ So speak! Why are you silent? Speak! What can you say?”
Now, seated on my carton bed, staring at him surprised and astounded I said, “ thank you, goodnight and let’s sleep,” saying it sarcastically. The man lied down and slept.
I lay down and can’t quite get to sleep immediately. My right arm on my forehead, a thought came to me. MONEY. Why do people need money? Why I need money? And why people’s happiness connected to it? We need money yes but why is it that when a person don’t have it causes them to be hot headed and irate? I don’t quite get it. Why I’m easily angered and irritated when I don’t have any money? I guess I don’t want any problem arising from lack of it. Every movement you make nowadays needs money. You can’t go to any point without spending. You cannot. You need to spend. So people tend to be irritable when facing problems and I tell you nobody wants any problems.
Why is it then that money makes a person into many things? I asked myself. And slowly my eyes shut and I was awaken by the sunlight shining on my face. As I sit but eyes shut, I hear many things. Of course people walking by and cars passing by. But I don’t hear the old man and the middle aged man. I opened my eyes and look at the direction they were laid down. There’s the old man fast asleep on his carton made bed. I shook him and he’s not moving. “Come on old man, wake up. It’s already noon I joked.” But he still did not move. My heart’s pounding becomes faster and faster. A worried face I have and as I continue to wake him up tears flowed down my face. “Hey old man wake up wake up. Stand up and we’ll have to get plastics and tins and aluminum and buy our food. There’s lot to do and it’s late morning already! Saying these words in an ever increasing tone and my voice breaking about to cry.
He’s dead! The old man, my companion and confidant is dead already. Crying, the other vagabonds came closer and formed a circle around us. I stood up and we brought the body to a funeral parlor and an employee there recognizes the man. “It’s Mang Teban”, the man exclaimed. I asked, did you know this person? She said yes. He’s one of the riches people in our town province. His children are seeking for him for a long, long time. “Is he insane?” asked the woman. Told her no he’s not. Actually, he’s the one who taught me how to live in the streets for quite some time now. But he’s never telling his story, what happened to him. The woman like a storyteller told us his story.
“ He was a professional, an engineer. He has two sons and two daughters and by now they’re all professionals too. They have their own families and they’re all rich. His wife died of a disease for about 5 years now. The story said that Mang Teban lost his mind and became a “taong grasa” (meaning a vagabond not bathing that his skin complexion became that of a grease because of the dirt and mud). No one knows why.”
I interrupted her saying, “ for the time that I was with him, he never spoke about his past but I can sense and feel the pain of his past.” Ah, the woman reacted.
I bade farewell to the employee as she picked the phone to call the family.
As I walk not knowing where to go, something can’t get out of my mind. I kept thinking that it’s all a waste. How come he wasted his life? With that good standing in the society, with a family and sons and daughters in a stable situation. How come he chose this life and leaves that good one? I walk and walk and think and think until I reach the forest.
(With continuation)
