Nanay's Notes Podcast Episode 10 entitled "Yabang ni Yakob" was aired on June 12, Independence Day. So I thought of reading this prose which I wrote in Filipino. The English translation follows it.
Yabang ni Yakob by Richelle Joson-Ligot
nanay pa din ako.
bilib sa anak kahit ayaw niyang maniwala maganda talaga ang gawa niya.
sinasabi ko lang daw yun kasi nanay ako.
habang nagbabalat ng sampalok, binasa ko ang tula niya.
pinagmalaki ko sa bunso niyang kapatid.
'di makapaniwala na matatagpuan ang gawa niya sa internet.
grabe ang bilib ni bunso kay kuya.
pinagyayabang niya sa iba.
ang tulang binasa ko ay isang pagsanib ng anak ko na nasa Midwest ng Amerika sa isa pang poet pero nandito siya sa Maynila.
hindi ko alam na may ganito pala syang tula... madalas nose-bleed ako sa poems nya, kailangan ko ng diksyonaryo at matagal na pag-aanalisa.
tatanungin ko sya kung anong ibig nyang ganito o ganuon, at sasagutin niya ng, Nay...kung anong gusto mong ibig sabihin nuon, yun yon
manunulat ang panganay ko. bata pa lang sa kindergarten sabi niya gusto niyang maging manunulat. Pero higit sa manunulat siya ay makata.
makatha. ma-creative.
akala ko lalaki syang gagawa ng mga New York times bestseller na nobela tapos hindi na kami kailangang magtrabaho ng tatay niya. haha! kala ko pupunta ako ng New York para sa book launch niya or awarding. puede namang mangyari yuon.
pero nahihiya akong aminin na pangarap ko yun para sa kanya. Eh hindi pala yun ang sa kanya. Hindi daw kaya ng atensyon niya na magpuno ng pahina at pahina ng pahina ng kwento. Talagang tula ang gusto nyang isulat. At bukud-tangi talaga ang mga katulad nya.
mataas, malalim, mahirap intindihin.
mabuti'y ginawa siya ng Diyos na ganito: malalim pero simple lang ang mga kaligayahan–makapamili sa grocery at magluto. makapagpakain ng kaibigan. makinig sa musika, at tumawa nang tumawa kasama ang mga kapatid habang kumakanta, sumasayaw nagkwekwento.
sana paglaki ko anak, gaya ng pagyayabang ni Yakob sa iyo, maaari din akong pagyabang ng bunso kong kapatid, o ng panganay kong ate. Masarap ang pinagmamayabang ng magulang at ng anak, pero ibang klase din ang marinig galing sa bibig ng nakababata o nakatatanda mong kapatid na proud sila sa yo. Sa bibig na madalas ay pintasan ka o awayin ka, pero salamat sa mga kapatid na napakayaman sa mga salitang malambing at mapagmahal.
salamat, Panginoon, na ginawa mo si Mishka. hindi sya duktor (akala ko magmamana siya sa lolo niya) pero nakakahilom sya ng isip at pusong walang magawa, walang ginagawa.
hindi siya inhinyero (na mana sa lolo ko) pero nakakatayo sya ng mga gusali ng salita at pag-iisip at malikhaing mga bagay.
hindi siya sikat na nobelista (na pinangarap ko) pero ang kwento ng buhay niya ay makulay at may silbi. para sa 'Yo, sa min, at sa bansa namin. Sa mundong ito.
[English Translation]
Yakob's Pride by Richelle Joson-Ligot
i am still a mother.
always proud of my child even if he does not believe that he did a good job.
he says, of course, I would say that. i'm his mom.
while peeling some tamarind fruit, i read a poem of his.
i boasted about it to his youngest sibling who couldn't believe that his brother's poem could be found in the internet.
he had utmost admiration for his older brother.
he would brag about him to others.
the poem I read was a collaboration between my son who is based in Midwest America and another poet who was based here in Manila (Phils.).
i was not aware that he had a poem like this. i usually "get a nosebleed" in my attempt to understand his poems. i would need a dictionary and a long while analyzing it.
i would ask him what he meant by this or that and he would answer with Mom... it means whatever you think or want it to mean."
my eldest is a writer. as young as a kindergarten child, he would already say he wanted to be a writer. but more than a writer, he is a poet.
a creator. he is very creative.
i thought he would grow up to write novels that would become New York Times Bestsellers and would mean that i and his dad won't ever have to work anymore. Haha! i thought i would be going to New York to attend his book launch or his awarding. that can still happen.
but I am embarrassed to admit that this was my dream for him. and it wasn't his. he said he did not have the attention span needed to fill pages and pages to pages of stories. poems were what he really wanted to write. and people like him are truly unique.
high, deep, hard to comprehend.
but it's good God made him this way: profound but with simple joys–buying in the grocery and cooking. feeding his friends, listening to music, and laughing hilariously with his siblings while they sing, dance and tell stories.
when i grow up, my son, i wish that just like how Yakob would be so proud of you, i would be worth boasting about by my younger sister, or my eldest sister. what a joy it is to be a source of pride to our parents and our children, but to hear from the mouths of your siblings, younger or older than you, that they are proud of you is something else. from the mouths that would usually spew words of criticism or disagreement. but i am so grateful for siblings who are so generous with words of affection and love for me.
thank You, Lord that You made Mishka. he may not be a doctor (i thought he would take after his grandfather), but he could heal minds and the hearts of those who can't do anything or don't have anything to do.
he may not have become an engineer (just like by grandfather) but he could build edifices of words and thoughts and creative ideas.
he may not be a popular novelist (just like my dream) but the story of his life is so full of color and value, for You, for us, and our country. in this world.
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