The Sampaloc Chronicles
Life is bittersweet, they say. It never is the same flavor all the time. Funny how I am able to write sober thoughts in my most drunk moments. And believe me, I’ve been trying real hard to search Sampaloc’s english name only to figure out (drumroll) it’s tamarind.
This we begin by defining where I’m coming from. I am in a much hurry to grow up. I guess we all are. We began by wearing lipstick when we were 5 for girls, or maybe boys too. Then fitting the ever ill-fitted garments of our parents which are our today’s precious inheritance. Then rushed into relationships, rushed into things that seemed new to us, rushed into instances that our parents ever diligently reminded us to avoid. But that is part of growing up. We rush then we slow down, then we stop.
Sampaloc is, well, sour.
We suck it, then spit.
It’s got a crusty shell.
We crack it, then lick it.
So many ways of eating it, combining it with our favorite dishes. But the truth is, we never eat it as is. Its too sour. we put salt, sugar, etc.
We crave for it, yet we don’t want it naked.
Point is, we might be missing a lot. Girls, we put too much make-up. We want beauty, no matter how futile it is, but we never wanted beauty as is. We never want our face bare. You see, we will soon grow old and no amount of make up can cover up our wrinkles, our midlife crises, our longing, regrets, chances and opportunities we missed, the love we let go, the one that got away, the fear, and all the curses brought about by old age. No matter how sour our faces look like, no matter how sour we taste like, it is us.
no need for sugar-coating.
Yes some may suck us, then spit us afterwards,
some would crack our shells but may not be interested with what’s inside.
Some would never want us alone, they want us combined with others.
They enjoy us while enjoying another.
But when they realize that the sourness is gone, they will look for it, hungry, mad. For the sweet alone will never satisfy they clamor for sting, for kilig.
But one last note, let us wait to be ripe. Cheers to a bittersweet life.