Of helping.

The flyover’s three steps away, and I’m making it home. My inability to hear a small voice from a bunch of farting mufflers from jeeps built the child’s persistence. It was nine in the evening, yet these street children linger across McArthur Highway – waiting for someone who would answer their call.

He was begging for a peso. A single peso coin.

My mind was hectic, writing in itself some scraps and ramblings and thoughts of the day. My stomach was absurd as it roars with hunger, and with my state of mind at that time – I could smash streetlights. And with this little critter bugging me, I am disturbed; enraged to the point that I just want to tell him to go away from me.

I used to hate kids, you know. They are stubborn, attention-seeking culprits of my life. They would cry over a shallow reason, maybe a delicious Haagen Dazs or a Pidrito shirt hanging along the outskirts of a big mall (it’s me). Well, in this case – the child needs attention. With my social skills, I interviewed the child first.

Aba, gabing-gabi na ha. Ba’t di ka pa umuuwi? San ka nakatira?

Sa Sulucan po.

Magkano ba gusto mo?

Piso po.

Teka lang ha. *gets the wallet* Gusto mo dalawang piso na?

Opo!

Ayoko nga. Hahaha!

Sige na po…

I was laughing when I teased the boy. I gave the boy two pesos. After that, he even demanded for a five-peso coin. Abusado!

In an instance, during a traffic jam in Marilao crossing – there’s this singer who went inside the jeep and serenade me and the passengers. I gave her 20 pesos. She promotes an organization or whatsoever.

In a strange way, I am generous with people I barely know. That is, if I have something to give and if I am willing to give it.

~ by utakgago on November 11, 2006.