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Meaning of batalan?
This place was used as a place where the Ancient Filipinos washed their dishes or a place where they stored their pots, pans and other cooking utensils. But I'm not sure.
Summary of the Harvest by Loreto Paras Sulit?
HE first saw her in his brother's eyes. The palay stalks were taking on gold in the late after­noon sun, were losing their trampled, wind-swept look and stirring into little, almost inaudi­ble whispers.The rhythm of Fabian's strokes was smooth and unbroken. So many palay stalks had to be harvested before sundown and there was no time to be lost in idle dallying. But when he stopped to heap up the fallen palay stalks he glanced at his brother as if to fathom the other's state of mind in that one, side-long glance.The swing of Vidal's figure was as graceful as the downward curve of the cres­cent-shaped scythe. How stubborn, this younger brother of his, how hard-headed, fumed Fabian as he felled stalk after stalk. It is because he knows how very good-looking he is, how he is so much run-after by all the women in town. The obstinate, young fool! With his queer dreams, his strange adorations, his wistfulness for a life not of these fields, not of their quiet, colorless women and the dullness of long nights of unbroken silence and sleep. But he would bend… he must bend… one of these days.Vidal stopped in his work to wipe off the heavy sweat from his brow. He wondered how his brother could work that fast all day without pausing to rest, with­out slowing in the rapidity of his strokes. But that was the reason the master would not let him go; he could harvest a field in a morning that would require three men to finish in a day. He had always been afraid of this older brother of his; there was something terrible in the way he deter­mined things, how he always brought them to pass, how he disregarded the soft and the beautiful in his life and sometimes how he crushed, trampled people, things he wanted destroyed. There were flowers, insects, birds of boyhood memories, what Fabian had done to them. There was Tinay… she did not truly like him, but her widowed mother had some lands… he won and mar­ried Tinay.I wonder what can touch him. Vidal thought of miracles, perhaps a vision, a woman… But no… he would overpower them…he was so strong with those arms of steel, those huge arms of his that could throttle a spirited horse into obedience."Harvest time is almost ended, Vidal." (I must be strong also, the other prayed). "Soon the planting season will be on us and we shall have need of many carabaos. Milia's father has five. You have but to ask her and Milia will accept you any time. Why do you delay…"He stopped in surprise for his brother had sprung up so suddenly and from the look on his face it was as if a shining glory was smiling shyly, tremulously in that adoring way of his that called forth all the boyishness of his nature-There was the slow crunch, crunch of footsteps on dried soil and Fabian sensed the presence of people behind him. Vidal had taken off his wide, buri hat and was twisting and untwisting it nervously."Ah, it is my model! How are you, Vidal?" It was a voice too deep and throaty for a woman but beneath it one could detect a gentle, smooth nuance, soft as silk. It affected Fabian very queerly, he could feel his muscles tensing as he waited for her to speak again. But he did not stop in work nor turn to look at her.She was talking to Vidal about things he had no idea of. He could not under­stand why the sound of her voice filled him with this resentment that was increasing with every passing minute. She was so near him that when she gestured, perhaps as she spoke, the silken folds of her dress brushed against him slightly, and her perfume, a very subtle fragrance, was cool and scented in the air about him."From now on he must work for me every morning, possibly all day.""Very well. Everything as you please." So it was the master who was with her."He is your brother, you say, Vidal? Oh, your elder brother." The curiosity in her voice must be in her eyes. "He has very splendid arms."Then Fabian turned to look at her.He had never seen anyone like her. She was tall, with a regal unconscious assurance in her figure that she carried so well, and pale as though she had just recovered from a recent illness. She was not exactly very young nor very beautiful. But there was something disquieting and haunting in the unsymmetrical of her features, in the queer reflection of the dark blue-blackness of her hair, in her eyes, in that mole just above her nether lips, that tinged her whole face with a strange loveliness. For, yes, she was indeed beautiful. One dis­covered it after a second, careful glance. Then the whole plan of the brow and lip and eye was revealed; one realized that her pallor was the ivory-white of rice grain just husked, that the sinuous folds of silken lines were but the undertones of the grace that flowed from her as she walked away from you.The blood rushed hot to his very eyes and ears as he met her grave, searching look that swept him from head to foot. She approached him and examined his hot, moist arms critically."How splendid! How splendid!" she kept on murmuring.Then "Thank you," and taking and leaning on the arm of the master she walked slowly away.The two brothers returned to their work but to the very end of the day did not exchange a word. Once Vidal attempted to whistle but gave it up after a few bars. When sundown came they stopped harvesting and started on their way home. They walked with difficulty on the dried rice paddies till they reached the end of the rice fields.The stiffness, the peace of the twilit landscape was maddening to Fabian. It aug­mented the spell of that woman that was still over him. It was queer how he kept on thinking about her, on remembering the scent of her perfume, the brush of her dress against him and the look of her eyes on his arms. If he had been in bed he would be tossing painfully, fever­ishly. Why was her face always before him as though it were always focused somewhere in the distance and he was forever walking up to it?A large moth with mottled, highly colored wings fluttered blindly against the bough, its long, feathery antennae quivering sensitively in the air. Vidal paused to pick it up, but before he could do so his brother had hit it with the bundle of palay stalks he carried. The moth fell to the ground, a mass of broken wings, of fluttering wing-dust.After they had walked a distance, Vidal asked, "Why are you that way?""What is my way?""That-that way of destroying things that are beautiful like moths… like…""If the dust from the wings of a moth should get into your eyes, you would be blind.""That is not the reason.""Things that are beautiful have a way of hurting. I destroy it when I feel a hurt."To avoid the painful silence that would surely ensue Vidal talked on whatever subject entered his mind. But gradually, slowly the topics converged into one. He found himself talking about the woman who came to them this afternoon in the fields. She was a relative of the master. A cousin, I think. They call her Miss Francia. But I know she has a lovely, hid­den name… like her beauty. She is convalescing from a very serious illness she has had and to pass the time she makes men out of clay, of stone. Sometimes she uses her fingers, some­times a chisel.One day Vidal came into the house with a message for the master. She saw him. He was just the model for a figure she was working on; she had asked him to pose for her."Brother, her loveliness is one I cannot understand. When one talks to her forever so long in the patio, many dreams, many desires come to me. I am lost… I am glad to be lost."It was merciful the darkness was up on the fields. Fabian could not see his brother's face. But it was cruel that the darkness was heavy and without end except where it reached the little, faint star. For in the deep darkness, he saw her face clearly and understood his brother.On the batalan of his home, two tall clay jars were full of water. He emptied one on his feet, he cooled his warm face and bathed his arms in the other. The light from the kero­sene lamp within came in wisps into the batalan. In the meager light he looked at his arms to discover where their splendor lay. He rubbed them with a large, smooth pebble till they glowed warm and rich brown. Gently he felt his own muscles, the strength, the power beneath. His wife was crooning to the baby inside. He started guiltily and entered the house.Supper was already set on the table. Tinay would not eat; she could not leave the baby, she said. She was a small, nervous woman still with the lingering prettiness of her youth. She was rocking a baby in a swing made of a blanket tied at both ends to ropes hanging from the ceiling. Trining, his other child, a girl of four, was in a corner playing siklot solemnly all by herself.Everything seemed a dream, a large spreading dream. This little room with all the people inside, faces, faces in a dream. That woman in the fields, this afternoon, a colored, past dream by now. But the unrest, the fever she had left behind… was still on him. He turned almost savagely on his brother and spoke to break these two gro­tesque, dream bub­bles of his life. "When I was your age, Vidal, I was already mar­ried. It is high time you should be settling down. There is Milia.""I have no desire to marry her nor anybody else. Just-just-for five carabaos." There! He had spoken out at last. What a relief it was. But he did not like the way his brother pursed his lips tightly That boded not defeat. Vidal rose, stretching himself luxuriously. On the door of the silid where he slept he paused to watch his little niece. As she threw a pebble into the air he caught it and would not give it up. She pinched, bit, shook his pants furiously while he laughed in great amusement."What a very pretty woman Trining is going to be. Look at her skin; white as rice grains just husked; and her nose, what a high bridge. Ah, she is going to be a proud lady… and what deep, dark eyes. Let me see, let me see. Why, you have a little mole on your lips. That means you are very talkative.""You will wake up the baby. Vidal! Vidal!" Tinay rocked the child almost despair­ingly. But the young man would not have stopped his teasing if Fabian had not called Trin­ing to his side."Why does she not braid her hair?" he asked his wife."Oh, but she is so pretty with her curls free that way about her head.""We shall have to trim her head. I will do it before going out to work tomor­row."Vidal bit his lips in anger. Sometimes… well, it was not his child anyway. He retired to his room and fell in a deep sleep unbroken till after dawn when the sobs of a child awak­ened him. Peering between the bamboo slats of the floor he could see dark curls falling from a child's head to the ground.He avoided his brother from that morning. For one thing he did not want repetitions of the carabao question with Milia to boot. For another there was the glo­rious world and new life opened to him by his work in the master's house. The glam­our, the enchantment of hour after hour spent on the shadow-flecked ylang-ylang scented patio where she molded, shaped, reshaped many kinds of men, who all had his face from the clay she worked on.In the evening after supper he stood by the window and told the tale of that day to a very quiet group. And he brought that look, that was more than a gleam of a voice made weak by strong, deep emotions.His brother saw and understood. Fury was a high flame in his heart… If that look, that quiver of voice had been a moth, a curl on the dark head of his daughter… Now more than ever he was determined to have Milia in his home as his brother's wife… that would come to pass. Someday, that look, that quiver would become a moth in his hands, a frail, helpless moth.When Vidal, one night, broke out the news Fabian knew he had to act at once. Miss Francia would leave within two days; she wanted Vidal to go to the city with her, where she would finish the figures she was working on."She will pay me more than I can earn here, and help me get a position there. And shall always be near her. Oh, I am going! I am going!""And live the life of a-a servant?""What of that? I shall be near her always.""Why do you wish to be near her?""Why? Why? Oh, my God! Why?"That sentence rang and resounded and vibrated in Fabian's ears during the days that followed. He had seen her closely only once and only glimpses thereafter. But the song of loveliness had haunted his life thereafter. If by a magic transfusing he, Fabian, could be Vidal and… and… how one's thoughts can make one forget of the world. There she was at work on a figure that represented a reaper who had paused to wipe off the heavy sweat from his brow. It was Vidal in stone.Again-as it ever would be-the disquieting nature of her loveliness was on him so that all his body tensed and flexed as he gathered in at a glance all the marvel of her beauty.She smiled graciously at him while he made known himself; he did not expect she would remember him."Ah, the man with the splendid arms.""I am the brother of Vidal." He had not forgotten to roll up his sleeves.He did not know how he worded his thoughts, but he succeeded in making her understand that Vidal could not possibly go with her, that he had to stay behind in the fields.There was an amusement rippling beneath her tones. "To marry the girl whose father has five carabaos. You see, Vidal told me about it."He flushed again a painful brick-red; even to his eyes he felt the hot blood flow."That is the only reason to cover up something that would not be known. My brother has wronged this girl. There will be a child."She said nothing, but the look in her face protested against what she had heard. It said, it was not so.But she merely answered, "I understand. He shall not go with me." She called a ser­vant, gave him a twenty-peso bill and some instruction. "Vidal, is he at your house?" The brother on the patio nodded.Now they were alone again. After this afternoon he would never see her, she would never know. But what had she to know? A pang without a voice, a dream without a plan… how could they be understood in words."Your brother should never know you have told me the real reason why he should not go with me. It would hurt him, I know."I have to finish this statue before I leave. The arms are still incomplete-would it be too much to ask you to pose for just a little while?"While she smoothed the clay, patted it and molded the vein, muscle, arm, stole the firmness, the strength, of his arms to give to this lifeless statue, it seemed as if life left him, left his arms that were being copied. She was lost in her work and noticed neither the twi­light stealing into the patio nor the silence brooding over them.Wrapped in that silver-grey dusk of early night and silence she appeared in her true light to the man who watched her every movement. She was one he had glimpsed and crushed all his life, the shining glory in moth and flower and eyes he had never understood because it hurt with its unearthly radiance.If he could have the whole of her in the cup of his hands, drink of her strange loveli­ness, forgetful of this unrest he called life, if… but his arms had already found their duplicate in the white clay beyond…When Fabian returned Vidal was at the batalan brooding over a crumpled twenty-peso bill in his hands. The haggard tired look in his young eyes was as grey as the skies above.He was speaking to Tinay jokingly. "Soon all your sampaguitas and camias will be gone, my dear sister-in-law because I shall be seeing Milia every night… and her father." He watched Fabian cleansing his face and arms and later wondered why it took his brother that long to wash his arms, why he was rubbing them as hard as that… Ω
Buod ng ambahan ni ambo?
Impeng NegroNi: Rogelio R. SikatTauhanImpen- 16 taong gulang, maitim ang kulay ng balat, may mga kapatid sa ibang ama, isang agwador o taga-igib ng tubigIna ni Impen- iniwan ng huling asawa habang kanyang ipinagbubuntis ang bunsong anakMga Kapatid ni Impen na sina Kano, Boyet, DidingTaba- tinderang uutangan ng gatas para sa bunsong kapatid ni ImpenOgor- matipunong agwador na laging nanunukso at nang-aapi kay ImpenMga AgwadorTagpuanSa igiban ng tubig ng kanilang barangayBuodNaghuhugas ng kamay sa batalan si Impen nang kausapin o pangaralan siya ng kanyang ina. Binalaan siya ng kanyang ina na huwag na siyang makipag-away at uuwing basag ang mukha.Nagpunta si Impen sa igiban ng tubig dahil isa siyang agwador. Mahina na ang kita ng kanyang ina sa paglalaba at mahina na rin ang kanyang kita sa pag-aagawador ngunit patuloy siya sa pagtatrabaho kahit na maraming nang-aapi sa kanya. Inaapi siya dahil sa estado ng kanilang pamilya at dahil sa kanyang kulay. Isa sa mga matinding manukso sa kanya ay ang kapwa agwador na si Ogor.Napansin ni Impen ang langkay ng mga agwador sa may gripo. Nakaanim na karga siya at may sisenta sentimos nang kumakalansing sa bulsa ng kanyang maong. Nanatili siya roon upang mag-igib pa at tatanghaliin siya ng pag-uwi. Nakita niya si Ogor sa isang tindahan malapit sa gripo. Tulad ng nakagawian nito, agad siya nitong tinawag na Negro at pinagsalitaan ng masasakit na salita. Sumingit si Ogor sa pila nang si Impen na ang sasahod ng balde niya. Sa kagustuhang makaiwas sa gulo, hindi na umimik si Impen at nagpasyang umalis na lamang.Pinatid ni Ogor si Impen nang papaalis na ito sa pila. Nabuwal si Impen. Tumama ang kanan niyang pisngi at nagalit si Impen at nagsuntukan sila. Hindi tumigil si Ogor sa pagtadyak, pagsuntok, at pananakit kay Impen hanggang sa labis nang napuno ng poot si Impen. Humina si Ogor sa sunud-sunod na dagok at bayo ni Impen sa kanya. Sumuko siya kay Impen, na ikinagulat ng lahat. Maraming sandaling walang nangahas na magsalita. Naramdaman ni Impen ang paghanga mula sa mga taong pumalibot sa kanila ni Ogor. Tiningnan ni Impen ang nakabulagtang si Ogor. Nakadama siya ng kapangyarihan at LUWALHATI.Gintong Aral (Bisa sa Isip, sa Asal, at sa Damdamin)Matutong magtiis hangga't maaring magtiis. Hindi bale nang pangit ang panlabas na kaanyuan basta't malinis at maganda ang kalooban.\Ambahan ni amboNi: Ed MarananAng hirap mag hanap ng ambahan ni ambo, kadugo ng brainBalisang nagising si Jack, malakas ang kabog ng dibdib. Uminom siya ng isang basongtubig. Kay samang panaginip! Nagkaroon ng malaking sunog sa bundok ng Halcon,umabot sa pinakatuktok. Natupok lahat ang mga puno at damo. Paghupa ng apoy ay siyanamang pagdilim ng mga ulap, na sinundan ng ilang araw na bagyo at bugso ng ulan.Nalusaw ang lupa at bato sa bundok ng Halcon, at unti-unti itong dumausdos patungongkapatagan, tangay ang lahat ng naiwang buhay na mga tao at iba pang nilalang.Nagtatangisan ang mga Mangyan sa pagkagunaw ng kanilang daigdig - habang siya aywalang puknat ang takbo. Hindi niya malaman kung nasaan na ang kaniyang Ate Anne atmga magulang…Umaga na pala. Pagbangon ni Jack ay dumungaw siya agad sa bintana. May tilamsikng liwanag sa ituktok ng Halcon. Ang bundok ay parang isang tahimik na tanod, luntianat matayog. Bihira niyang makita itong walang suklob na ulap, tulad ngayon."Balang araw, Jack," sabi sa kaniya ni Ambo noong nakaraang araw, "aakyatin natiniyan, hanggang doon sa ituktok, hanggang doon sa mga ulap!"Lumukso ang kaniyang puso sa sinabing iyon ni Ambo."Hoy, di maaaring di ako kasama!" sabad ni Anne, ang matandang kapatid ni Jack."Tayong lahat, aakyatin natin ang mga ulap sa Halcon!" wika ni Ambo.Si Ambo ay isang batang Mangyan. Siya ang matalik na kaibigan ng dalawang taga-Maynilang si Jack at si Anne.Ngayong umagang ito, parang mabigat ang dibdib ni Jack. Hindi mapawi sa isipan angkaniyang napanaginipan."Naku, daddy, mommy, para pong totoong-totoo! Para nga akong humihingalBalisang nagising si Jack, malakas ang kabog ng dibdib. Uminom siya ng isang basongtubig. Kay samang panaginip! Nagkaroon ng malaking sunog sa bundok ng Halcon,umabot sa pinakatuktok. Natupok lahat ang mga puno at damo. Paghupa ng apoy ay siyanamang pagdilim ng mga ulap, na sinundan ng ilang araw na bagyo at bugso ng ulan.Nalusaw ang lupa at bato sa bundok ng Halcon, at unti-unti itong dumausdos patungongkapatagan, tangay ang lahat ng naiwang buhay na mga tao at iba pang nilalang.Nagtatangisan ang mga Mangyan sa pagkagunaw ng kanilang daigdig - habang siya aywalang puknat ang takbo. Hindi niya malaman kung nasaan na ang kaniyang Ate Anne atmga magulang…Umaga na pala. Pagbangon ni Jack ay dumungaw siya agad sa bintana. May tilamsikng liwanag sa ituktok ng Halcon. Ang bundok ay parang isang tahimik na tanod, luntianat matayog. Bihira niyang makita itong walang suklob na ulap, tulad ngayon."Balang araw, Jack," sabi sa kaniya ni Ambo noong nakaraang araw, "aakyatin natiniyan, hanggang doon sa ituktok, hanggang doon sa mga ulap!"Lumukso ang kaniyang puso sa sinabing iyon ni Ambo."Hoy, di maaaring di ako kasama!" sabad ni Anne, ang matandang kapatid ni Jack."Tayong lahat, aakyatin natin ang mga ulap sa Halcon!" wika ni Ambo.Si Ambo ay isang batang Mangyan. Siya ang matalik na kaibigan ng dalawang taga-Maynilang si Jack at si Anne.Ngayong umagang ito, parang mabigat ang dibdib ni Jack. Hindi mapawi sa isipan angkaniyang napanaginipan."Naku, daddy, mommy, para pong totoong-totoo! Para nga akong humihingalpagod paggising ko….," bulalas ni Jack nang sila'y nag-aagahan na."Para namang disaster movie ang panaginip mo!" tudyo ni Anne. "'Yan kasi,palibhasa'y walang mapagpuyatang video dito sa Mindoro, midnight snack naman angnapagtripan, naimpatso tuloy, at muntik nang bangungutin!""Dati-rati, panay namang masasaya ang mga panaginip ko," sabi ni Jack.Napatingin siya kay Pete, ang kaniyang ama. Tahimik itong kumakain, tila nag-iisipnang malalim.
The story of rogelio sicat- impeng negro pls help me?
"BAKA makikipag-away ka na naman, Impen."Tinig iyon ng kanyang ina. Nangangaral na naman. Mula sa kinatatalungkuang giray na batalan, saglit siyang napatigil sa paghuhugas ng mumo sa kamay."Hindi ho," paungol niyang tugon."Hindi ho...," ginagad siya ng ina. "Bayaan mo na nga sila. Kung papansinin mo'y lagi ka ngang mababasag-ulo."May iba pang sinasabi ang kanyang ina ngunit hindi na niya pinakinggan. Alam na niya ang mga iyon. Paulit-ulit na niyang naririnig. Nakukulili na ang kanyang tainga.Isinaboy niya ang tubig na nasa harap. Muli siyang tumabo. Isinawak niya ang kamay, pinagkiskis ang mga palad at pagkaraa'y naghilamos."Dumaan ka kay Taba mamayang pag-uwi mo," narinig niyang bilin ng ina. "Wala nang gatas si Boy. Eto ang pambili."Tumindig na siya. Nanghihinamad at naghihikab na iniunat ang mahahabang kamay. Inaantok pa siya. Gusto pa niyang magbalik sa sulok na kanyang higaan. Ngunit kailangang lumakad na siya. Tatanghaliin na naman bago siya makasahod. At naroon na naman marahil si Ogor. Kahit siya ang nauna ay lagi siyang inuunahan ni Ogor sa pagsahod.Umingit ang sahig ng kanilang barungbarong nang siya'y pumasok."Nariyan sa kahon ang kamiseta mo."Sa sulok ng kanyang kaliwang mata'y nasulyapan niya ang ina. Nakaupo ito, taas ang kaliwang paa, sa dulo ng halos dumapa nang bangko. Nakasandig ang ulo sa tagpiang dingding. Nakalugay ang buhok. Bukas ang kupasing damit na giris, nakahantad ang laylay at tuyot na dibdib. Kalong nito ang kanyang kapatid na bunso. Pinasususo."Mamaya,aka umuwi ka namang...basag ang mukha."Bahagya na niyang maulinigan ang ina. Nakatitig siya sa tatlo pa niyang kapatid. Sunud-sunod na nakatalungko ang mga ito sa isa pang bangkong nas atagiliran ng nanggigimalmal na mesang kainan. nagsisikain pa.Matagal na napako ang kanyang tingin kay Kano, ang sumunod sa kanya. Maputi si Kano, kaya ganito ang tawag dito sa kanilang pook. Kakutis ni Kano ang iba pa niyang kapatid. Marurusing ngunit mapuputi. May pitong taon na si Kano. Siya nama'y maglalabing-anim na. Payat siya ngunit mahahaba ang kanyang biyas.Hinalungkat na niya ang kahong karton na itinuro ng ina. Magkakasama ang mga damit nila nina Kano, Boyet at Diding. Sa may ilalim, nakuha niya ang kulay-lumot niyang kamiseta. Hinawakan niya iyon sa magkabilang tirante. Itinaas. Sinipat."Yan na'ng isuot mo." Parang nahulaan ng kanyang ina ang kanyang iniisip.Isinuot niya ang kamiseta. Lapat na lapat sa kanya ang kamisetang iyon noong bagong bili ngunit ngayo'y maluwag na. Nagmumukha siyang Intsik-beho kapag suot iyon ngunit wala naman siyang maraming kamisetang maisusuot. Mahina ang kita ng kanyang ina sa paglalabada; mahina rin ang kanyang kita sa pag-aagwador.Nagbalik siya sa batalan. Nang siya'y lumabas, pasan na niya ang kargahan. Tuluy-tuloy niyang tinungo ang hagdan."Si Ogor, Impen," pahabol na bilin ng kanyang ina. "Huwag mo nang papansinin."Naulinigan niya ang biling iyon at aywan kung dahil sa inaantok pa siya, muntik na siyang madapa nang matalisod sa nakausling bato sa may paanan ng kanilang hagdan.Tuwing umagang mananaog siya upang umigib, pinagpapaalalahanan siya ng ina. Huwag daw siyang makikipagbabag. Huwag daw niyang papansinin si Ogor. Talaga raw gayon ito: basagulero. Lagi niyang isinasaisip ang mga biling ito ngunit sadya yatang hindi siya makapagtitimpi kapag naririnig niya ang masasakit na panunuksyo sa kanya sa gripo, lalung-lalo na mula kay Ogor.Si Ogor, na kamakailan lamang ay bumabag sa kanya, ang malimit magsisimula ng panunukso:"Ang itim mo, Impen!" itutukso nito."Kapatid mo ba si Kano?" isasabad ng isa sa mga nasa gripo."Sino ba talaga ang tatay mo?""Sino pa," isisingit ni Ogor, "di si Dikyam!"Sasambulat na ang nakabibinging tawanan. Pinakamatunog ang tawa ni Ogor. Si Ogor ang kinikilalang hari sa gripo.Noong una, sinasagot niya ang mga panunuksong ito:"E ano kung maitim?" isasagot niya.Nanunuri ang mga mata at nakangising iikutan siya ni Ogor. Pagkuwa'y bigla na lamang nitong kakayurin ng hintuturo ang balat sa kanyang batok."Negrung-negro ka nga, Negro," tila nandidiring sasabihin ni Ogor. Magsusunuran nang manukso ang iba pang agwador. Pati ang mga batang naroon: Tingnan mo ang buhok. Kulot na kulot! Tingnan mo ang ilong. Sarat na sarat! Naku po, ang nguso...Namamalirong!Sa katagalan, natanggap na niya ang panunuksong ito. Iyon ang totoo, sinasabi niya sa sarili. Negro nga siya. Ano kung Negro? Ngunit napapikit siya. Ang tatay niya'y isang sundalong Negro na nang maging anak siya'y biglang nawala sa Pilipinas.Ang panunuksong hindi niya matanggap, at siya ngang pinagmulan ng nakaraan nilang pagbababag ni Ogor, ay ang sinabi nito tungkol sa kanyang ina. (Gayon nga kaya kasama ang kanyang ina?)"Sarisari ang magiging kapatid ni Negro," sinabi ni Ogor. "Baka makatatlo pa ang kanyang nanay ngayon!"Noong kabuntisan ng kanyang ina sa kapatid niyang bunso ay iniwan ito ng asawa. Hindi malaman kung saan nagsuot. At noon, higit kailanman, naging hamak sila sa pagtingin ng lahat. Matagal-tagal ding hindi naglabada ang kanyang ina, nahihiyang lumabas sa kanilang barungbarong. Siya ang nagpatuloy sa pag-aagwador. At siya ang napagtuunan ng sarisaring panunukso.Natandaan niya ang mga panunuksong iyon. At mula noon, nagsimula nang umalimpuyo sa kanyang dibdib ang dati'y binhi lamang ng isang paghihimagsik: nagsusumigaw na paghihimagsik sa pook na iyong ayaw magbigay sa kanila ng pagkakataong makagitaw at mabuhay nang payapa.Sariwa pa ang nangyaring pakikipagbabag niya kay Ogor, naiisip ni Impen habang tinatalunton niya ang mabatong daan patungo sa gripo. Mula sa bintana ng mga barungbarong, nakikita niyang nagsusulputan ang ulo ng mga bata. Itinuturo siya ng mga iyon. Sa kanya rin napapatingin ang matatanda. Walang sinasabi ang mga ito, ngunit sa mga mata, sa galaw ng mga labi nababasa nya ang isinisigaw ng mga paslit: Negro!Napapatungo na laamang siya.Natatanaw na niya ngayon ang gripo. Sa malamig ngunit maliwanag nang sikat ng araw, nakikita na niya ang langkay ng mga agwador. Nagkakatipun-tipon ang mga ito. Nagkakatuwaan. Naghaharutan.Sa langkay na iyon ay kilalang-kilala niya ang anyo ni Ogor. Paano niya malilimutan si Ogor? Sa mula't mula pa, itinuring na siya nitong kaaway, di kailanman binigyan ng pagkakataong maging kaibigan.Halos kassingulang niya si Ogor, ngunit higit na matipuno ang katawan nito. Malakas si Ogor. Tuwid ang tindig nito at halos hindi yumuyuko kahit may pasang balde ng tubig; tila sino mang masasalubong sa daan ay kayang-kayang sagasaan.Nang marating niya ang gripo ay tungo ang ulog tinungo niya ang hulihan ng pila. Marahan niyang inalis sa pagkakakawit ang mga balde. Sa sarili, nausal niyang sana'y huwag siya ang maging paksa ng paghaharutan at pagkakatuwaan ng mga agwador.Nakakaanim na karga na si Impen. May sisenta sentimos nang kumakalansing sa bulsa ng kutod niyang maong. May isa pang nagpapaigib sa kanya. Diyes sentimos na naman. Kapag tag-araw ay malaki-laki rin ang kinikita ng mga agwador. Mahina ang tulo ng tubig sa kanilang pook. At bihira ang may poso.Tanghali na akong makauuwi nito, nausal niya habang binibilang sa mata ang mga nakapilang balde. Maluwag ang parisukat na sementong kinatitirikan ng gripo at ang dulo ng pila'y nasa labas pa niyon.Di-kalayuan sa gripo ay may isang tindahan. Sa kalawanging medya-agwa niyon ay nakasilong ang iba pang agwador. May naghubad na ng damit at isinampay na lamang sa balikat. May nagpapaypay May kumakain ng halu-halo.Sa pangkat na iyon ay kay Ogor agad natutok ang kanyang tingin. Pnilit niyang supilin ang hangaring makasilong. Naroon sa tindahan si Ogor. Hubad-baro at ngumingisi. Mauupo na lamang siya sa kanyang balde. Mabuti pa roon, kahit nakabilad sa init. Pasasaan ba't di iikli ang pila? naisip niya. Makasasahod din ako.Kasalukuyan siyang nagtitiis sa init nang may maulinigan siyang siga mula sa tindahan:"Hoy, Negro, sumilong ka. Baka ka pumuti!"Si Ogor iyon. Kahit hindi siya lumingon, para na niyang nakita si Ogor. Nakangisi at nanunukso na naman."Negro," muli niyang narinig, "sumilong ka sabi, e. Baka ka masunog!"Malakas ang narinig niyang tawanan. Hindi pa rin siya lumilingon. Tila wala siyang naririnig. Nakatingin siya sa nakasahod na balde ngunit ang naiisip niya'y ang bilin ng ina, na huwag na niyang papansinin si Ogor. Bakit nga ba niya papansinin si Ogor?Tinigilan naman ni Ogor ang panunukso. Hindi pa rin siya umaalis sa kinauupuang balde. At habang umiisod ang pila, nararamdaman niyang lalong umiinit ang sikat ng araw. Sa paligid ng balde, nakikia niya ang kanyang anino. Tumingala siya ngunit siya'y nasilaw. Nanghahapdi at waring nasusunog ang kanyang balat. Tila ibig nang matuklap ang balat sa kanyang batok, likod at balikat. Namumuo ang pawis sa kanyang anit at sa ibabaw ng kanyang nguso. may butil na rin ng pawis sa kanyang ilong.Itinaas niya ang tirante ng kamiseta. Hinipan-hipan niya ang manipis na dibdib. Di natagalan, isinawak niya ang kamay sa nalalabing tubig sa balde. Una niyang binasa ang batok---kaylamig at kaysarap ng tubig sa kanyang batok. Malamig. Binasa niya ang ulo. Kinuskos niya ang kanyang buhok at nabasa pati ang kanyang anit. Binasa niya ang balikat, ang mga bisig. May nadama siyang ginhawa ngunit pansamantala lamang iyon. Di nagtagal, muli niyang naramdaman na tila nangangalirang na naman ang kanyang balat. Kay hapdi ng kanyang batok at balikat."Negro!" Napauwid siya sa pagkakaupo nang marinig iyon. Nasa likuran lamang niya ang nagsalita. Si Ogor. "Huwag ka nanag magbibilad. Doon ka sa lamig."Pagkakataon na ni Ogor upang sumahod. At habang itinatapat nito ang balde sa gripo, muli niyang nakita na nginingisihan siya nito.Napakatagal sa kanya ang pagkapuno ng mga balde ni ogor. Napabuntong-hininga siya nang makitang kinakawitan na ni Ogor ang mga balde. Sa wakas, aalis na si Ogor, naisip niya. Aalis na si Ogor. Huwag na sana siyang bumalik.May galak na sumusuno sa kanyang dibdib habang pinagmamasdan ang pagkapuno ng sinundang balde. Susunod na siya. Makaka sahod na siya. Makakasahod na rin ako, sabi niya sa sarili. pagkaraan ng kargang iyon ay uuwi na siya. Daraan pa nga pala siya kay Taba. Bibili ng gatas.Datapwa, pagkaalis ng hinihintay niyang mapunong balde, at isasahod na lamang ang sa kanya, ay isang mabigat at makapangyarihang kamay ang biglang pumatong sa kanyang balikat. Si Ogor ang kanyang natingala. Malapit lamang pala ang pinaghatidan nito ng tubig."Gutom na ako, Negro," sabi ni Ogor. "Ako muna."Pautos iyon. Iginitgit ni Ogor ang bitbit na balde at kumalantog ang kanilang mga balde. Iginitgit din niya ang sa kanya, bahagya nga lamang at takot na paggitgit. "Kadarating mo pa lamang, Ogor, nais niyang itutol. Kangina pa ako nakapila rito, a. Ako muna sabi, e," giit ni Ogor.Bantulot niyang binawi ang balde, nakatingin pa rin kay Ogor. Itinaob niya ang kaunting nasahod na balde at ang tubig ay gumapang sa semento at umabog sa kanilang mga paa ni Ogor. Uuwi na ako, bulong niya sa sarili. Uuwi na ako. Mamaya na lang ako iigib uli. Nakatingin sa araw, humakbang siya upang kunin ang pingga ngunit sa paghakbang na iyon, bigla siyang pinatid ni Ogor."Ano pa ba ang ibinubulong mo?"Hindi n a niya narinig iyon. Nabuwal siya. Tumama ang kanan niyang pisngi sa labi ng nabiawang balde. Napasigaw siya. Malakas. Napaluhod siya sa madulas na semento. Kagyat na bumaha ang nakaliliyong dilim sa kanyang utak. Habang nakaluhod, dalawang kamay niyang tinutop ang pisngi. Takot, nanginginig ang kanyang mga daliri. Dahan-dahan niyang iniangat iyon. Basa...Mapula...Dugo!Nanghilakbot siya. Sa loob ng isang saglit, hindi niya maulit na salatin ang biyak na pisngi. Mangiyak-ngiyak siya."O-ogor...O-ogor..." Nakatingala siya kay Ogor, mahigpit na kinukuyom ang mga palad. Kumikinig ang kanyang ulo at nangangalit ang kanyang ngipin. "Ogor!" sa wakas ay naisigaw niya.Hindi minabuti ni Ogor ang kanyang pagsigaw. Sinipa siya nito. Gumulong siya. Buwal ang lahat ng baldeng nalalabi sa pila. Nagkalugkugan. Nakarinig siya ng tawanan. At samantalang nakadapa, unti-unting nabuo sa walang malamang sulingan niyang mga mata ang mga paang alikabukin. Paparami iyon at pumapaligid sa kanya.Bigla siyang bumaligtad. nakita niya ang naghuhumindig na anyo ni Ogor. Nakaakma ang mga bisig."O-ogor..."Tumawa nang malakas si Ogor. Humihingal at nakangangang napapikit siya. Pumuslit ang luha sa sulok ng kanyang mga mata. Nasa ganito siyang kalagayan nang bigla niyang maramdaman ang isang ubos-lakas na sipa sa kanyang pigi. Napasigaw iya. Umiiyak siyang gumuglong sa basa at madulas na semento. Namimilipit siya. Tangan ang sinipang pigi, ang buong anyo ng nakaangat niyang mukha'y larawan ng matinding sakit.Matagal din bago napawi ang paninigas ng kanyang pigi. Humihingal siya. Malikot ang kanyang mga mata nang siya'y bumangon at itukod ang mga kamay sa semento.Si ogor...Sa mula't mula pa'y itinuring na siya nitong kaaway...Bakit siya ginaganoon ni Ogor?Kumikinig ang kanyang katawan. Sa poot. Sa naglalatang na poot. At nang makita niyang muling aangat ang kanang paa ni Ogor upang sipain siyang muli ay tila nauulol na asong sinunggaban niya iyon at niyakap at kinagat.Bumagsak ang nawalan ng panimbang na si Ogor. nagyakap sila. Pagulung-gulong. Hindi siya bumibitiw. Nang siya'y mapaibabaw, sinunud-ssunod niya: dagok, dagok, dagok... pahalipaw... papaluka...papatay.Sa pook na iyon, sa nakaririmarim na pook na iyon, aba ang pagtingin sa kanila. Marumi ng babae ang kanyang ina. Sarisari ang anak. At siya isang maitim, hamak na Negro! Papatayin niya si Ogor. papatayin. Papatayinnn!Dagok, dagok, dagok...Nag-uumigting ang kanyang mga ugat. Tila asong nagpipilit makapaibabaw si Ogor. Tila bakal na kumakapit ang mga kamay. Sa isang iglap siya naman ang napailalim. Dagok, dagok. Nagpipihit siya. Tatagilid. Naiiri. Muling matitihaya. Hindi niya naiilagan ang dagok ni Ogor. Nasisilaw siya sa araw. Napipikit siya. Mangungudngod siya, mahahalik sa lupa. Ngunit wala siyang nararamdaman sakit. Wala siyang nararamdamang sakit!Kakatatlo ng asawa si Inay. Si Kano...si Boyet...si Diding...At siya...Negro. Negro. Negro!Sa mga dagok ni ogor, tila nasasalinan pa siya ng lakas. Bigla, ubos-lakas at nag-uumiri siyang umigtad. napailalim si Ogor. Nahantad ang mukha ni Ogor. Dagok, bayo, dagok, bayo, dagok, bayo, dagok...Kahit saan. Sa dibdib. Sa mukha. Dagok, bayo, dagok, bayo, dagok, dagok, dagok...Mahina na si ogor. Lupaypay na. Nalalaglag na ang nagsasanggang kamay. Humihingal na rin siya, humahagok. Ngunit nagliliyab pa rin ang poot sa kanyang mga mata. Dagok. Papaluka. Dagok, bayo, dagok, bayo, dagok...Gumagalaw-galaw ang sabog na labi ni Ogor."Impen..."Muli niyang itinaas ang kamay."I-Impen..." Halos hindi niya narinig ang halingling ni Ogor. "I-Impen...s-suko n-na...a-ako...s-suko...n-na...a-ako!"Naibaba niya ang nakataas na kamay. Napasuko niya si Ogor! Napatingala siya Abut-abot ang pahingal. makaraan ang ilang sandali, dahan-dahan at nanlalambot siyang tumindig, nakatuon ang mga mata kay Ogor. Wasak ang kanyang kamiseta at duguan ang kanyang likod. May basa ng dugo't lupa ang kanyang nguso.Marmaing sandaling walang nangahas magsalita. Walang makakibo sa mga agwador. Hindi makapaniwala ang lahat. Lahat ay nakatingin sa kanya.Isa-isa niyang tiningnan ang mga nakapaligid sa kanya. Walang pagtutol sa mga mata ng mga ito. Ang nababakas niya'y paghanga. Ang nakita niya'y pangingimi.Pinangingimian siya!May luha siya sa mata ngunit may galak siyang nadama. Luwalhati. Hinagud-hagod niya ang mga kamao. nadama niya ang bagong tuklas na lakas niyon. Ang tibay. Ang tatag. Ang kapangyarihan. Muli niyang tiningnan ang nakabulagtang si Ogor. Pagkaraa'y nakapikit at buka ang labing nag-angat siya ng mukha.Sa matinding sikat ng araw, tila sya ang mandirigmang sugatan, ngunit matatag na nakatindig sa pinagwagihang larangan.
What are one directions girl friends name?
Footnote to Youth by Jose Garcia Villa The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father about Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and let it to its shed and fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, but he wanted his father to know. What he had to say was of serious import as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it, at a thought came to him his father might refuse to consider it. His father was silent hard-working farmer who chewed areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong's grandmother. I will tell it to him. I will tell it to him. The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy smell. Many slender soft worms emerged from the furrows and then burrowed again deeper into the soil. A short colorless worm marched blindly to Dodong's foot and crawled calmly over it. Dodong go tickled and jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where it fell, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young any more. Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and gave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned its head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it land the carabao began to eat. Dodong looked at it without interests. Dodong started homeward, thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, the down on his upper lip already was dark--these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man--he was a man. Dodong felt insolent and big at the thought of it although he was by nature low in statue. Thinking himself a man grown, Dodong felt he could do anything. He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the cool sundown he thought wild you dreams of himself and Teang. Teang, his girl. She had a small brown face and small black eyes and straight glossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She made him dream even during the day. Dodong tensed with desire and looked at the muscles of his arms. Dirty. This field work was healthy, invigorating but it begrimed you, smudged you terribly. He turned back the way he had come, then he marched obliquely to a creek. Dodong stripped himself and laid his clothes, a gray undershirt and red kundiman shorts, on the grass. The he went into the water, wet his body over, and rubbed at it vigorously. He was not long in bathing, then he marched homeward again. The bath made him feel cool. It was dusk when he reached home. The petroleum lamp on the ceiling already was lighted and the low unvarnished square table was set for supper. His parents and he sat down on the floor around the table to eat. They had fried fresh-water fish, rice, bananas, and caked sugar. Dodong ate fish and rice, but did not partake of the fruit. The bananas were overripe and when one held them they felt more fluid than solid. Dodong broke off a piece of the cakes sugar, dipped it in his glass of water and ate it. He got another piece and wanted some more, but he thought of leaving the remainder for his parents. Dodong's mother removed the dishes when they were through and went out to the batalan to wash them. She walked with slow careful steps and Dodong wanted to help her carry the dishes out, but he was tired and now felt lazy. He wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework. He pitied her, doing all the housework alone. His father remained in the room, sucking a diseased tooth. It was paining him again, Dodong knew. Dodong had told him often and again to let the town dentist pull it out, but he was afraid, his father was. He did not tell that to Dodong, but Dodong guessed it. Afterward Dodong himself thought that if he had a decayed tooth he would be afraid to go to the dentist; he would not be any bolder than his father. Dodong said while his mother was out that he was going to marry Teang. There it was out, what he had to say, and over which he had done so much thinking. He had said it without any effort at all and without self-consciousness. Dodong felt relieved and looked at his father expectantly. A decrescent moon outside shed its feeble light into the window, graying the still black temples of his father. His father looked old now. "I am going to marry Teang," Dodong said. His father looked at him silently and stopped sucking the broken tooth. The silence became intense and cruel, and Dodong wished his father would suck that troublous tooth again. Dodong was uncomfortable and then became angry because his father kept looking at him without uttering anything. "I will marry Teang," Dodong repeated. "I will marry Teang." His father kept gazing at him in inflexible silence and Dodong fidgeted on his seat. "I asked her last night to marry me and she said...yes. I want your permission. I... want... it...." There was impatient clamor in his voice, an exacting protest at this coldness, this indifference. Dodong looked at his father sourly. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and the little sounds it made broke dully the night stillness. "Must you marry, Dodong?" Dodong resented his father's questions; his father himself had married. Dodong made a quick impassioned easy in his mind about selfishness, but later he got confused. "You are very young, Dodong." "I'm... seventeen." "That's very young to get married at." "I... I want to marry...Teang's a good girl." "Tell your mother," his father said. "You tell her, tatay." "Dodong, you tell your inay." "You tell her." "All right, Dodong." "You will let me marry Teang?" "Son, if that is your wish... of course..." There was a strange helpless light in his father's eyes. Dodong did not read it, so absorbed was he in himself. Dodong was immensely glad he had asserted himself. He lost his resentment for his father. For a while he even felt sorry for him about the diseased tooth. Then he confined his mind to dreaming of Teang and himself. Sweet young dream.... ------------------------------------------- Dodong stood in the sweltering noon heat, sweating profusely, so that his camiseta was damp. He was still as a tree and his thoughts were confused. His mother had told him not to leave the house, but he had left. He had wanted to get out of it without clear reason at all. He was afraid, he felt. Afraid of the house. It had seemed to cage him, to compares his thoughts with severe tyranny. Afraid also of Teang. Teang was giving birth in the house; she gave screams that chilled his blood. He did not want her to scream like that, he seemed to be rebuking him. He began to wonder madly if the process of childbirth was really painful. Some women, when they gave birth, did not cry. In a few moments he would be a father. "Father, father," he whispered the word with awe, with strangeness. He was young, he realized now, contradicting himself of nine months comfortable... "Your son," people would soon be telling him. "Your son, Dodong." Dodong felt tired standing. He sat down on a saw-horse with his feet close together. He looked at his callused toes. Suppose he had ten children... What made him think that? What was the matter with him? God! He heard his mother's voice from the house: "Come up, Dodong. It is over." Suddenly he felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at her. Somehow he was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if he had taken something no properly his. He dropped his eyes and pretended to dust dirt off his kundiman shorts. "Dodong," his mother called again. "Dodong." He turned to look again and this time saw his father beside his mother. "It is a boy," his father said. He beckoned Dodong to come up. Dodong felt more embarrassed and did not move. What a moment for him. His parents' eyes seemed to pierce him through and he felt limp. He wanted to hide from them, to run away. "Dodong, you come up. You come up," he mother said. Dodong did not want to come up and stayed in the sun. "Dodong. Dodong." "I'll... come up." Dodong traced tremulous steps on the dry parched yard. He ascended the bamboo steps slowly. His heart pounded mercilessly in him. Within, he avoided his parents eyes. He walked ahead of them so that they should not see his face. He felt guilty and untrue. He felt like crying. His eyes smarted and his chest wanted to burst. He wanted to turn back, to go back to the yard. He wanted somebody to punish him. His father thrust his hand in his and gripped it gently. "Son," his father said. And his mother: "Dodong..." How kind were their voices. They flowed into him, making him strong. "Teang?" Dodong said. "She's sleeping. But you go on..." His father led him into the small sawali room. Dodong saw Teang, his girl-wife, asleep on the papag with her black hair soft around her face. He did not want her to look that pale. Dodong wanted to touch her, to push away that stray wisp of hair that touched her lips, but again that feeling of embarrassment came over him and before his parents he did not want to be demonstrative. The hilot was wrapping the child, Dodong heard it cry. The thin voice pierced him queerly. He could not control the swelling of happiness in him. "You give him to me. You give him to me," Dodong said. ------------------------------------------- Blas was not Dodong's only child. Many more children came. For six successive years a new child came along. Dodong did not want any more children, but they came. It seemed the coming of children could not be helped. Dodong got angry with himself sometimes. Teang did not complain, but the bearing of children told on her. She was shapeless and thin now, even if she was young. There was interminable work to be done. Cooking. Laundering. The house. The children. She cried sometimes, wishing she had not married. She did not tell Dodong this, not wishing him to dislike her. Yet she wished she had not married. Not even Dodong, whom she loved. There has been another suitor, Lucio, older than Dodong by nine years, and that was why she had chosen Dodong. Young Dodong. Seventeen. Lucio had married another after her marriage to Dodong, but he was childless until now. She wondered if she had married Lucio, would she have borne him children. Maybe not, either. That was a better lot. But she loved Dodong... Dodong whom life had made ugly. One night, as he lay beside his wife, he rose and went out of the house. He stood in the moonlight, tired and querulous. He wanted to ask questions and somebody to answer him. He wanted to be wise about many things. One of them was why life did not fulfill all of Youth's dreams. Why it must be so. Why one was forsaken... after Love. Dodong would not find the answer. Maybe the question was not to be answered. It must be so to make youth Youth. Youth must be dreamfully sweet. Dreamfully sweet. Dodong returned to the house humiliated by himself. He had wanted to know a little wisdom but was denied it. When Blas was eighteen he came home one night very flustered and happy. It was late at night and Teang and the other children were asleep. Dodong heard Blas's steps, for he could not sleep well of nights. He watched Blas undress in the dark and lie down softly. Blas was restless on his mat and could not sleep. Dodong called him name and asked why he did not sleep. Blas said he could not sleep. "You better go to sleep. It is late," Dodong said. Blas raised himself on his elbow and muttered something in a low fluttering voice. Dodong did not answer and tried to sleep. "Itay ...," Blas called softly. Dodong stirred and asked him what it was. "I am going to marry Tona. She accepted me tonight." Dodong lay on the red pillow without moving. "Itay, you think it over." Dodong lay silent. "I love Tona and... I want her." Dodong rose from his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to the yard, where everything was still and quiet. The moonlight was cold and white. "You want to marry Tona," Dodong said. He did not want Blas to marry yet. Blas was very young. The life that would follow marriage would be hard... "Yes." "Must you marry?" Blas's voice stilled with resentment. "I will marry Tona." Dodong kept silent, hurt. "You have objections, Itay?" Blas asked acridly. "Son... n-none..." (But truly, God, I don't want Blas to marry yet... not yet. I don't want Blas to marry yet....) But he was helpless. He could not do anything. Youth must triumph... now. Love must triumph... now. Afterwards... it will be life. As long ago Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong... and then Life. Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt extremely sad and sorry for him.
Ano ang buhay ni fely sa banyaga?
Mula nang dumating is Fely kangina ay hindi miminsang narinig niya ang tanong na iyon na tila ngayon lamang siya nakita. Gayong umuuwi siya dalawang ulit sa isang taon - kung Araw ng mga Patay at kung Pasko. O napakadalang nga iyon, bulong niya sa sarili. At maging sa mga sandaling ito na wala nang kumukibo sa tumitingin sa kanya ay iyon din ang katanungang wari ay nababsa niya sa bawat mukha, sa bawat tingin, sa bawat matimping ngiting may lakip na lihim na sulyap. At mula sa salamin sa kanyang harapan ay nakita niya si Nana Ibang sa kanyang likuran. Hinahagod ng tingin ang kanyang kaanyuan. Matagal na pinagmasdan ang kanyang buhok Hindi ito makapaniwala nang sabihin niyang serbesa ang ipinambasa sa buhok niya bago iyon sinuklay. Nandidilat si Nana Ibang nang ulitin ang tanong. "Serbesa ba 'kama, bata ka, ha?" Nguniti siya kasabay ang mahinang tango. At nang makita niyang nangunot ang noo nito, idinigtong niya ang paliwanag. "Hindi masama'ng amoy, Nana." Ngayon, sa kanyang pandinig ay hindi nakaila sa kanya ang pagtuon ng tingin nito sa kanyang suot. Sa leeg ng kanyang terno na halos ay nakasabit lamang sa gilid ng kanyang balikat at tila nanunuksong pinipigil ang pagsungaw ng kanyang malusog na dibdib. Sa kanyang baywang na lalong pinalantik ng lapat na lapat na saya. Sa laylayan naito na may gilit upang makahakbang siya. "Ibang-iba na ngan ngayon ang...lahat!" at nauulinigan niya ang buntung-hiningang kumawala sa dibdib ng matandang ale. Napangiti siya. Alam niyang iyonm din ang sasabihin ng kanyang ina kung nakabuhayan siya. Pati ang kanyang ama na hindi naging maligoy minsan man, sa pagkakaalam niya, sa pagsasalita. Iyon din ang narinig niyang sabi ng kanyang Kuya Mente. At ang apat niyang pamangkin ay halos hindi nakahuma nang makita siya kanginang naka-toreador na itim at kamisadentrong rosas. Pinagmasdan siya ng kanyang mga kanayon, mula ulong may taling bandanna, sa kanyang salaming may kulay, hanggang sa kanyang mag mapulang kuko sa paa na nakasungaw sa step-in na bukas ang nguso. "Sino kaya'ng magmamana sa mga pamangkin mo?" tanong ngayon ng kanyang Nana Ibang. "Ang panganay sana ng Kua mo...matalino..." "Sinabi ko naman sa Inso...ibigay na sa 'kin papapag-aralin ko sa Maynila. Nag-iisan naman ako. Ang hirap sa kanila...ayaw nilang maghiwa-hiwalay. Kung sinunod ko ang gusto ni Inang...noon...kung natakot ako sa iyakan..." Tumigil siya sa pagsasalita. Alam niyang hindi maikukubli ng kanyang tinig ang kapaitang naghihimagsik sa kanyang dibdib. "Tigas nga naming iyakan nang lumawas ka..." ayon ni Nana Ibang. "Noon pa man, alam kong nasa Maynila ang aking pagkakataon. Sasali ba 'ko sa timpalak na 'yon kung hindi ako nakasisigurong kaya ko ang eksamen?" Malinaw sa isip ang nakaraan. Hindi sumagot si Nana Ibang. Naramdaman niyang may dumaping panyolito sa kanyang batok. "Pinapawisan ka an, e. Ano bang oras ang sabi no Duardo na susunduin ka?" "Alas-tres daw. Hanggang ngayon ba'y gano'n dito?" at napangiti siya. "Ang alas-tres, e, alas-singko? Alas-kuwatro na, a! Kung hindi lang ako magsasaya, di dinala ko na rito ang kotse ko. Ako na ang magmamaneho. Sa Amerika..." "Naiinip ka na ba/" agaw ni Nana Ibang sa kanyang sinabi. "Hindi sa naiinip, e. Dapat ay nasa oras ng salitaan. Bakit ay gusto kong makabalik din ngayon sa Maynila." "Ano? K-kahit gabi?" Napatawa si Fely. "Kung sa Amerika...nakapunta ako at nakabalik nang nag-iisa, sa Maynila pa? Ilang taon ba 'kong wala sa Pilipinas? Ang totoo..." Boglang nauntol ang kanyang pagsasalita nang marinig niya ang mahinang tatat ni Aling Ibang. At nang tumingin siya rito ay nakita niya ang malungkot na mukha nito. At biglang-bigla, dumaan sa kanyang gunita ang naging anyo nito nang makita siya kangina. Ang pinipigil na paghanga at pagtataka sa kanyang anyo. Ang walang malamang gawing pagsalubong sa kanya. At nang siya ay ipaghain ay hindi siya isinabay sa kanyang mga pamangkin. Ibinukod si ng hain, matapos mailabas ang isang maputi at malinis na mantel. Hindi siya pinalabas sa batalan nang sabihin niyang maghuhugas siya ng kamay. Ipinagpasok siya ng palanggana ng tubig, kasunod ang isa niyang pamangking sa pangaln at larawan lalo niyang kilala sapagkat patuloy ang kanyang sustento rito buwan-buwan. Iba ang may dala ng platitong kinalalagyan ng sabong mabangong alam niyang ngayon lamang binili. Nakasampay sa isang bisig nito ang isang tuwalyang amay moras. At napansin niyang nagkatinginan ang kanyang mga kaharap nang sabihin niyang magkakamay siya. "Ayan naman ang kubyertos...pilak 'yan!" hiyang-hiyang sabi ng kanyang hipag. " 'Yan ang uwi mo...noon...hindi nga namin ginagamit..." Napatawa siya. "Kinikutsara ba naman ang alimango?" Nagsisi siya pagkatapos sa kanyang sinabi. Napansin niyang lalong nahapis ang mukha ng kanyang Nana Ibang. Abot ang paghingi nito ng paumanhin. Kung hindi ka ba nagbago ng loob, di sana'y nilitson ang biik sa silong, kasi, sabi...hindi ka darating... Wala nga siyang balak na dumalo sa parangal. Ngunit naisip niya - ngayon lamang gagawin ang gayon sa kanilang nayon. Sa ikalimampung taon ng Plaridel High School. Waring hindi niyan matatanggihan ang karangalang iniuukol sa kanya ng Samahan ng mga Nagtapos sa kanilang paaralan. Waring naglalaro sa kanyang isipan ang mga titik ng liham ng pangulo ng samahan. Parangal sa unang babaing hukom na nagtapos sa kanila. Napakislot pa si Fely nang marinig ang busina ng isag tumigil na sasakayan sa harapan ng bahay. Alam na niya ang kahulugan niyon. Dumating na ang sundo upang ihatid siya sa bayan, sa gusali ng paaralan. Hindi muna niya isinuot ang kanyang sapatos na mataas at payat ang takong. "Sa kotse n," ang sabi niya kay Nana Ibang. Ang hindi niya masabi: Baka ako masilat...baka ako hindi makapanaog sa hagdang kawayan. Ngunit sa kanyang pagyuko upang damputin ang kanyang sapatos ay naunahan siya ng matanda. Kasunod niya ito na bitbit ang kanyang sapatos. Sa paligid ng kotse ay maraming matang nakatingin sa kanya. Ang pinto ng kotse ay hawak ng isang lalaki, na nang mapagsino niya ay bahagya siyang napatigil. Napamaang. "Ako nga si Duardo!" Pinigil niya ang buntung-hiningang ibig kumawala sa kanyang dibdib. Nang makaupo na siya ay iniabot ni Nana Ibang ang kanyang sapatos. Yumuko ito at dinampot naman ang tsinelas ba hinubad niya. Isinara ni Duardo ang pinto ng kotse at sa tabi ng tsuper ito naupo. "Bakit hindi ka rito?" tanong niya. Masasal ang kaba ng kanyang dibdib. "May presidente ba ng samahan na ganyan?" "A...e..." Hindi kinakailangang makita niyang nakaharao si Duardo. Napansin niya sa pagsasalita nito ang panginginig ng mga labi. 'A-alangan...na 'ata..." Nawala ang ngiti ni Fely. Sumikbo ang kanyang dibdib. Si Duardo ang tanging lalaking naging malapit sa kanya. Noon. Ngayon, nalaman niyang guro ito sa paaralang kanilang pinagtapusan. At ito rin ang pangulo ng Samahan ng mga Nagtapos. "Natutuwa kami at nagpaunlak ka..." walang anu-ano'y sabi ni Duardo, "Dalawampu't dalawang taon na..." "Huwag mo nang sasabihin ang taon!" biglang sabi ni Fely, lakip ang bahagyang tawa. "Tumatanda ako." "Hindi ka nagbabago,' sabi ni Duardo. "Parang mas...mas...bata ka ngayon. Sayang...hindi ka makikita ni Menang..." "Menang?" napaangat ang likod ni Fely. "Kaklase natin...sa apat na grado," paliwanag ni Duardo. "Kami ang..." at napahagikhik ito. "Kamakalawa lang isinilang ang aming pang-anim...' "Congratulations!" pilit na pilit ang kanyang pagngiti. Tila siya biglang naalinsanganan. Tila siya inip na inip sa pagtakbo ng sasakyan. "Magugulat ka sa eskuwela natin ngayon," patuloy ni Duardo nang hindi na siya kumibo. "Ibang-iba kaysa...noon..." "Piho nga," patianod niya. "Hindi naman kasi 'ko nagagawi sa bayan tuwing uuwi ako. Lagi pa 'kong nagmamadali..." "Pumirmi na nga rin kami sa bayan kaya hindi naman tayo nagkikita..." Bagung-bago sa kanyang paningin ang gusali. At nang isungaw niya ang kanyang mukha sa bintana ng sasakyan ay nakita ang mga nakamasid sa kanya. Isinuot niya ang kanyang salaming may kulay. Tila hindi niya matatagalan ang nakalarawan sa mukha ng mga sumasalubong sa kanya. Pagtataka, paghanga, pagkasungyaw. Aywan niya kung alin. At nang buksan ni Duardo ang pinto ng kotse upang makaibis siya ay lalong nagtimunig ang kahungkagang nadarama sa kanyang mga mata. Tila hindi na niya nakikilala at hindi na rin siya makilala pa ng pook na binalikan niya.
Could you please send you the plot of Footnote to Youth?
Certainly! "Footnote to Youth" is a short story by Jose Garcia Villa that explores the consequences of early marriage and the complexities of love. It follows the story of young couple Dodong and Teang who get married at a very young age without considering the challenges that lie ahead. The plot unfolds through their struggles and the realization of the responsibilities that come with their decision.
Buod ng Impeng Negro?
Impeng Negro ni Rogelio Sikat"Sa matinding sikat ng araw, tila siya mandirigmang sugatan,ngunit matatag na nakatindig sa pinagwagihang larangan."Mga Tauhan:Impen- 16 taong gulang, maitim ang kulay ng balat, may mga kapatid sa ibang ama, isang agwador o taga-igib ng tubigIna ni Impen- iniwan ng huling asawa habang kanyang ipinagbubuntis ang bunsong anakMga Kapatid ni Impen na sina Kano, Boyet, DidingTaba- tinderang uutangan ng gatas para sa bunsong kapatid ni ImpenOgor- matipunong agwador na laging nanunukso at nang-aapi kay ImpenMga AgwadorBanghay:Naghuhugas ng kamay sa batalan si Impen nang kausapin o pangaralan siya ng kanyang ina. Binalaan siya ng kanyang ina na huwag na siyang makipag-away at uuwing basag ang mukha.Nagpunta si Impen sa igiban ng tubig dahil isa siyang agwador. Mahina na ang kita ng kanyang ina sa paglalaba at mahina na rin ang kanyang kita sa pag-aagawador ngunit patuloy siya sa pagtatrabaho kahit na maraming nang-aapi sa kanya. Inaapi siya dahil sa estado ng kanilang pamilya at dahil sa kanyang kulay. Isa sa mga matinding manukso sa kanya ay ang kapwa agwador na si Ogor.Napansin ni Impen ang langkay ng mga agwador sa may gripo. Nakaanim na karga siya at may sisenta sentimos nang kumakalansing sa bulsa ng kanyang maong. Nanatili siya roon upang mag-igib pa at tatanghaliin siya ng pag-uwi. Nakita niya si Ogor sa isang tindahan malapit sa gripo. Tulad ng nakagawian nito, agad siya nitong tinawag na Negro at pinagsalitaan ng masasakit na salita. Sumingit si Ogor sa pila nang si Impen na ang sasahod ng balde niya. Sa kagustuhang makaiwas sa gulo, hindi na umimik si Impen at nagpasyang umalis na lamang.Pinatid ni Ogor si Impen nang papaalis na ito sa pila. Nabuwal si Impen. Tumama ang kanan niyang pisngi at nagalit si Impen at nagsuntukan sila. Hindi tumigil si Ogor sa pagtadyak, pagsuntok, at pananakit kay Impen hanggang sa labis nang napuno ng poot si Impen. Humina si Ogor sa sunud-sunod na dagok at bayo ni Impen sa kanya. Sumuko siya kay Impen, na ikinagulat ng lahat. Maraming sandaling walang nangahas na magsalita. Naramdaman ni Impen ang paghanga mula sa mga taong pumalibot sa kanila ni Ogor. Tiningnan ni Impen ang nakabulagtang si Ogor. Nakadama siya ng kapangyarihan.
Footnote to Youth of Jose garcia villa?
Characters:1. Dodong - main character of the story who got married at the age of 172. Teang - regretted marrying at an early age3. Lucio - Teang's other suitor who got married after she did and who's childless until now4. Blas - Dodong and Teang's oldest son who followed their footsteps in the end. Blas contemplated to marry Tona when he was 185. Tona - woman whom Blas wants to marry.Plot:Exposition: The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father about Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and let it to its shed and fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, but he wanted his father to know. What he had to say was of serious import as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it, at a thought came to him his father might refuse to consider it. His father was silent hard-working farmer who chewed areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong's grandmother. I will tell it to him. I will tell it to him. The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy smell. Many slender soft worms emerged from the furrows and then burrowed again deeper into the soil. A short colorless worm marched blindly to Dodong's foot and crawled calmly over it. Dodong go tickled and jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where it fell, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young any more. Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and gave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned its head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it land the carabao began to eat. Dodong looked at it without interests. Dodong started homeward, thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, the down on his upper lip already was dark-these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man--he was a man. Dodong felt insolent and big at the thought of it although he was by nature low in statue. Thinking himself a man grown Dodong felt he could do anything. He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the cool sundown he thought wild you dreams of himself and Teang. Teang, his girl. She had a small brown face and small black eyes and straightglossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She made him dream even during the day.Rising Action: When Dodong wants to marry Teang; When Dodong said to his father he wants to marry Teang.Climax: When Teang gave birth to their first baby.Falling Action And the Resolution: When Dodong realized that early marriage can result failure in your life.Setting:Place: farm, provinceWeather: cloudy,hazyTime:afternoon, duskStory:The sun was salmon and hazy in the west. Dodong thought to himself he would tell his father about Teang when he got home, after he had unhitched the carabao from the plow, and let it to its shed and fed it. He was hesitant about saying it, but he wanted his father to know. What he had to say was of serious import as it would mark a climacteric in his life. Dodong finally decided to tell it, at a thought came to him his father might refuse to consider it. His father was silent hard-working farmer who chewed areca nut, which he had learned to do from his mother, Dodong's grandmother. I will tell it to him. I will tell it to him. The ground was broken up into many fresh wounds and fragrant with a sweetish earthy smell. Many slender soft worms emerged from the furrows and then burrowed again deeper into the soil. A short colorless worm marched blindly to Dodong's foot and crawled calmly over it. Dodong go tickled and jerked his foot, flinging the worm into the air. Dodong did not bother to look where it fell, but thought of his age, seventeen, and he said to himself he was not young any more. Dodong unhitched the carabao leisurely and gave it a healthy tap on the hip. The beast turned its head to look at him with dumb faithful eyes. Dodong gave it a slight push and the animal walked alongside him to its shed. He placed bundles of grass before it land the carabao began to eat. Dodong looked at it without interests. Dodong started homeward, thinking how he would break his news to his father. He wanted to marry, Dodong did. He was seventeen, he had pimples on his face, the down on his upper lip already was dark-these meant he was no longer a boy. He was growing into a man--he was a man. Dodong felt insolent and big at the thought of it although he was by nature low in statue. Thinking himself a man grown Dodong felt he could do anything. He walked faster, prodded by the thought of his virility. A small angled stone bled his foot, but he dismissed it cursorily. He lifted his leg and looked at the hurt toe and then went on walking. In the cool sundown he thought wild you dreams of himself and Teang. Teang, his girl. She had a small brown face and small black eyes and straightglossy hair. How desirable she was to him. She made him dream even during the day. Dodong tensed with desire and looked at the muscles of his arms. Dirty. This field work was healthy, invigorating but it begrimed you, smudged you terribly. He turned back the way he had come, then marched obliquely to a creek. Dodong stripped himself and laid his clothes, a gray undershirt and red kundiman shorts, on the grass. The he went into the water, wet his body over, and rubbed at it vigorously. He was not long in bathing, then he marched homeward again. The bath made him feel cool. It was dusk when he reached home. The petroleum lamp on the ceiling already was lighted and the low unvarnished square table was set for supper. His parents and he sat down on the floor around the table to eat. They had fried fresh-water fish, rice, bananas, and caked sugar. Dodong ate fish and rice, but didnot partake of the fruit. The bananas were overripe and when one held them they felt more fluid than solid. Dodong broke off a piece of the cakes sugar, dipped it in his glass of water and ate it. He got another piece and wanted some more, but he thought of leaving the remainder for his parents. Dodong's mother removed the dishes when they were through and went out to the batalan to wash them. She walked with slow careful steps and Dodong wanted to help her carry the dishes out, but he was tired and now felt lazy. He wished as he looked at her that he had a sister who could help his mother in the housework. He pitied her, doing all the housework alone. His father remained in the room, sucking a diseased tooth. It was paining him again, Dodong knew. Dodong had told him often and again to let the town dentist pull it out, but he was afraid, his father was. He did not tell that to Dodong, but Dodong guessed it. Afterward Dodong himself thought that if he had a decayed tooth he would be afraid to go to the dentist; he would not be any bolder than his father. Dodong said while his mother was out that he was going to marry Teang. There it was out, what he had to say, and over which he had done so much thinking. He had said it without any effort at all and without self-consciousness. Dodong felt relieved and looked at his father expectantly. A decrescent moon outside shed its feeble light into the window, graying the still black temples of his father. His father looked old now. "I am going to marry Teang," Dodong said.His father looked at him silently and stopped sucking the broken tooth. The silence became intense and cruel, and Dodong wished his father would suck that troublous tooth again. Dodong was uncomfortable and then became angry because his father kept looking at him without uttering anything."I will marry Teang," Dodong repeated. "I will marry Teang." His father kept gazing at him in inflexible silence and Dodong fidgeted on his seat. "I asked her last night to marry me and she said...yes. I want your permission. I... want... it...." There was impatient clamor in his voice, an exacting protest at this coldness, this indifference. Dodong looked at his father sourly. He cracked his knuckles one by one, and the little sounds it made broke dully the night stillness. "Must you marry, Dodong?" Dodong resented his father's questions; his father himself had married. Dodong made a quick impassioned easy in his mind about selfishness, but later he got confused. "You are very young, Dodong." "I'm... seventeen." "That's very young to get married at." "I... I want to marry...Teang's good girl." "Tell your mother," his father said. "You tell her, tatay." "Dodong, you tell your inay." "You tell her." "All right, Dodong." "You will let me marry Teang?""Son, if that is your wish... of course..." There was a strange helpless light in his father's eyes. Dodong did not read it, too absorbed was he in himself. Dodong was immensely glad he had asserted himself. He lost his resentment for his father. For a while he even felt sorry for him about the diseased tooth. Then he confined his mind to dreaming of Teang and himself. Sweet young dream.... Dodong stood in the sweltering noon heat, sweating profusely, so that his camiseta was damp. He was still like a tree and his thoughts were confused. His mother had told him not to leave the house, but he had left. He had wanted to get out of it without clear reason at all. He was afraid, he felt. Afraid of the house. It had seemed to cage him, to compares his thoughts with severe tyranny. Afraid also of Teang. Teang was giving birth in the house; she gave screams that chilled his blood. He did not want her to scream like that, he seemed to be rebuking him. He began to wonder madly if the process of childbirth was really painful. Some women, when they gave birth, did not cry. In a few moments he would be a father. "Father, father," he whispered the word with awe, with strangeness. He was young, he realized now, contradicting himself of nine months comfortable... "Your son," people would soon be telling him. "Your son, Dodong." Dodong felt tired standing. He sat down on a saw horse with his feet close together. He looked at his callused toes. Suppose he had ten children... What made him think that? What was the matter with him? God! He heard his mother's voice from the house: "Come up, Dodong. It is over." Of a sudden he felt terribly embarrassed as he looked at her. Somehow he was ashamed to his mother of his youthful paternity. It made him feel guilty, as if he had taken something no properly his. He dropped his eyes and pretended to dust dirt off his kundiman shorts. "Dodong," his mother called again. "Dodong." He turned to look again and this time saw his father beside his mother. "It is a boy," his father said. He beckoned Dodong to come up.Dodong felt more embarrassed and did not move. What a moment for him. His parents' eyes seemed to pierce him through and he felt limp. He wanted to hide from them, to run away. "Dodong, you come up. You come up," he mother said. Dodong did not want to come up and stayed in the sun. "Dodong. Dodong." "I'll... come up." Dodong traced tremulous steps on the dry parched yard. He ascended the bamboo steps slowly. His heart pounded mercilessly in him. Within, he avoided his parents eyes. He walked ahead of them so that they should not see his face. He felt guilty and untrue. He felt like crying. His eyes smarted and his chest wanted to burst. He wanted to turn back, to go back to the yard. He wanted somebody to punish him. His father thrust his hand in his and gripped it gently. "Son," his father said. And his mother: "Dodong..." How kind were their voices. They flowed into him, making him strong. "Teang?" Dodong said. "She's sleeping. But you go in..." His father led him into the small sawali room. Dodong saw Teang, his girl wife, asleep on the papag with her black hair soft around her face. He did not want her to look that pale... Dodong wanted to touch her, to push away that stray wisp of hair that touched her lips, but again that feeling of embarrassment came over him and before his parents he did not want to be demonstrative. The hilot was wrapping the child, Dodong heart it cry. The thin voice pierced him queerly. He could not control the swelling of happiness in him. You give him to me. You give him to me," Dodong said. * * * Blas was not Dodong's child. Many more children came. For six successive years a new child came along. Dodong did not want any more children, but they came. It seemed the coming of children could not be helped. Dodong got angry with himself sometimes. Teang did not complain, but the bearing of children told on her. She was shapeless and thin now, even if she was young. There was interminable work to be done. Cooking. Laundering. The house. The children. She cried sometimes, wishing she had not married. She did not tell Dodong this, not wishing him to dislike her. Yet she wished she had not married. Not even Dodong, whom she loved. There has been another suitor, Lucio, older than Dodong by nine years, and that was why she had chosen Dodong. Young Dodong. Seventeen. Lucio had married another after her marriage to Dodong, but he was childless until now. She wondered if she had married Lucio, would she have borne him children. Maybe not either. That was a better lot. But she loved Dodong... Dodong whom life had made ugly. One night, as he lay beside his wife, he roe and went out of the house. He stood in the moonlight, tired and querulous. He wanted to ask questions and somebody to answer him. He w anted to be wise about many things. One of them was why life did not fulfill all of Youth's dreams. Why it must be so.Why one was forsaken... after Love. Dodong would not find the answer. Maybe the question was not to be answered. It must be so to make Youth. Youth. Youth must be dreamfully sweet. Dreamfully sweet. Dodong returned to the house humiliated by himself. He had wanted to know a little wisdom but was denied it. * * * When Blas was eighteen he came home one night very flustered and happy. It was late at night and Teang and the other children were asleep. Dodong heard Blas's steps, for he could not sleep well of nights. He watched Blas undress in the dark and lie down softly. Blas was restless on his mat and could not sleep. Dodong called him name and asked why he did not sleep. Blas said he could not sleep. "You better go to sleep. It is late," Dodong said. Blas raised himself on his elbow and muttered something in a low fluttering voice. Dodong did not answer and tried to sleep. "Itay ...," Blas called softly. Dodong stirred and asked him what was it. "I am going to marry Tona.She accepted me tonight." Dodong lay on the red pillow without moving. "Itay, you think it over." Dodong lay silent. "I love Tona and... I want her." Dodong rose f ROM his mat and told Blas to follow him. They descended to the yard, where everything was still and quiet. The moonlight was cold and white. "You want to marry Tona," Dodong said. He did not want Blas to marry yet. Blas was very young. The life that would follow marriage would be heard... "Yes." "Must you marry?" Blas's voice stilled with resentment. "I will marry Tona." Dodong kept silent, hurt. "You have objections, Itay?" Blas asked acridly. "Son... n-none..." (But truly, God, I don't want Blas to marry yet... not yet. I don't want Blas to marry yet....) But he was helpless. He could not do anything. Youth must triumph... now. Love must triumph... now. Afterwards... it will be life. As long ago Youth and Love did triumph for Dodong... and then Life. Dodong looked wistfully at his young son in the moonlight. He felt extremely sad and sorry for him.Message/ lesson: Early marriage can result failure in your life.Summary:It is all about a man named Dodong who wants to marry Teang. He was ashame to tell it to his parents. But his Father allowed him. Then they've got married. Teang was to give birth for their first son but after that he was ashamed to his parents because of being a young father. More children came to them. Teang looks like an old lady after all the responsibilities of a mother. Sometimes, she thinks that what if she marry Lucio,who is until now childless.Then his son Blas, also wants to marry Tona. Like what Dodong did when he was 17 was the one that Blas also did. Dodong allowed Blas to marry Tona but he was disappointed to him.
Who are the Characters in the short story rice of Manuel Arguilla?
hacienda consuelo
What is a brief summary of 'The Small Key' by Paz Latorena?
THE SMALL KEY"The Small Key" is a short story by Philipino author Paz Latorena. It is about a woman named Soledad who is married to a man named Pedro Buhay. They live on a farm. One morning Soledad finds herself knowing that the farm will produce plenty but that she still had some inner feeling of discontent. She planned to mend some of her husband's shirts, which were in a locked trunk. Pedro took out from his pocket a string which held two keys, one large and shiny and one small and rusty. He gave Soledad the large key to his trunk and put the small key back in his jacket pocket. Since it was hot that morning, he removed his coat before leaving to work in the field. When he was gone, Soledad began to fold the jacket and the small key fell to the floor. It is obvious that Pedro values the small key while Soledad fears it.Soledad knows that the small key is a key to a different trunk. She tries to busy herself so that she will not think about what the smaller trunk contains, but she cannot stop thinking about it and reveals that the small trunk contains clothing that belonged to Pedro's first wife. She wonders why it is that he keeps her old clothing and why he seems to have a special feeling about them. She obviously fears that Pedro still loves his first wife even though she has been dead for many years by now. She reveals that she hates the things in the small trunk and worries that they will destroy the relationship between her and her husband. Despite her attempts to not think about the contents of the small trunk, Soledad opens it. At this point, Pedro returns home to find Soledad in bed supposedly with a fever. It turns out she does not. The next morning Pedro discovers a pile of ashes and half burnt clothing in the backyard. He realizes what Soledad has done and rushes to look in the trunk to confirm it. Soledad has indeed, burned his first wife's clothing.Pedro is angry and bitter that this has happened and he expects that Soleda will explain things later. He thinks to himself that he will forgive her because he loves her but that even if she did it out of love for him, it will always remain a matter of some resentment toward her for doing it.
