Ever had this feeling when you wish that even for a moment time would let you wander back from those days when life is all about friendship, crushes and all that youthful adventures brought by HIGHSCHOOL?
I sort of feel that way after a friend, a former classmate of Catanduanes State Colleges Laboratory High school posted a throwback photo of our Graduation in Facebook. Time has flourished a lot and as I count on my fingers it’s been almost nine –long years since I stepped out High school and faced the real world firm and resolute. Throughout the long span of struggles, starting from the day I went to College, took that electrifying and complex mechanical course and later on ventured into the real working world has devoured the innocence in me on which as a person I long to have the most.
Now as an adult, I view life in a different way. It’s like every moment should be seasoned with seriousness so one can focus on his/her goal – to be successful. But what’s the use of it all when it’s eating you up, your system, the whole you.
Frustrating, sometimes, but mostly I feel sad and sentimental that a once carefree and ignorant yesterday would just be in a photograph and be replaced with nothing but seriousness in life. Thus, the itch of regaining it back, the thrill to share it on how once it was, were the things I can hardly contain in myself. And so I ended up being taunted by the pictures of yesterday, hoping that it would have an endless existence but, that was just too much to fancy about and what the truth holds as of now is the reality that time has passed.
Gone are those days when I can smell the scent of our classrooms burnished with ipil-ipil leaves which Ma’am Emelita Concepcion, now Mrs. Castro would often remind us to do after our class. As a classroom sweeper every Tuesday, Jomz and Maal would wait for me so we can idle ourselves while walking our way home chatting and blurting joke at each other.
Jomz and Maal were my best buddies back in High school. Our relationship were like that of brother/sister type, (Jomz as my brother and Maal as my sister) not to mention being each other’s crying shoulder because among us three I am the only one who whimper and at times cry to them. Maal and I were childhood friends, we are cousins too which roots burst forth from the mountain as the “town proper “ people often brand us since our mother both hailed from a far-off hilly barangay in our town. We were neighbors as well long before Jomz arrived at the scene and joined our band. Jomz as we often describe as chubby boy was a Manileño, who can’t even say a single word in our dialect. He became our neighbor too, and eventually a classmate. Maal and I often alienate and wean him off into our conversations in short we make fun of him and that after all leads into a wonderful connection which we call friendship.
Every day we travel a kilometer or more going to school no jeepneys, no school bus or any kind of vehicle, only our feet but still it gets us there. More often than not, the three of us were late or if not, buzzer beater. Blame it on Jomz‘s torpid movements on which he seems to walk like a duck. The three of us were inseparable then even during our classes, recess, and of course, going home. We never get tired sharing stories, one of which, we consider as favorite was the scandal whom I happened to take part with against a freshman English teacher. But that was long ago and we were not that kind of person now; we don’t clash with other people anymore. Hehe.
One spectacular moment of which I am so fond of– of us being friends were the nights we stayed and crammed at Jomz’s abode, doing our homework in Mathematics, Algebra and, Statistics. Having friends who are excellent enough in numbers was quite a relief for someone who eschews those subjects. I was and still not good with numbers. They’re my weakness, my kryptonite. I couldn’t bear myself dealing with them(the numbers) thus those nights that they tutored me were glorious and like heaven in my memory for I have made myself rise against the labels my classmates used to tag me like being slow.
Jomz’s abode was like and much more of an ancestral house which is quite reminiscent of those we see in Philippine period movies. It serves as our hang-out place after school. We dawdle and sometimes held our drinking-session there. We watch TV series and movies even the porno one in which we were caught by her mom, excluding Maal and got reprimanded the morning after. It was the news that brought us to be the headline of our classmate‘s talk show and be guested on their sizzling hot seat which airs every morning while sweeping talisay leaves in front of our classroom. Some of the girls frowned and said yuck to us but yuck to them too for we were the first to learn its moral lesson. Hehehe.
I say, we were innocent and naïve back then .True enough, because there were proofs to it like: we still play patintero beside our social hall even some of our girls have a noticeable growing lump on their chest we don’t mind still we play with them. We were often like children that neither one of us got to feel what it’s like to have a boyfriend/girlfriend at that time. We got crushes though, and the KILIG was enough to remind us that we’re still young to dare involve ourselves into a real relationship. So the three of us decided to stay single, or as if we do have a choice.
Now as I reminisce about those memories that come to pass like of those good old days, the three of us spent in the field during our Agriculture subject, the fun and bliss of having skip the class even once, those free snacks we got from flattering our classmates, the fraternity we have thought of indulging with, the ball dance during every occasion, the mornings spent on CAT with Mr. TAX’R, The annoying teachers we have slept in during their class, the refreshing palamig at Nang Vaci’s store outside our school gate, the fear that our Social studies teacher used to give us and most of all the delight we have when the three of us, and some of our classmates share answer sheet during exam, somehow all of it made me feel the immortality of yesterday.
Thanks for that old photograph of one throwback Thursday in Facebook. It again revives my feeling of hunger to be youthful, ignorant and care free once more.