I Need Your Support

I was officially accepted as a candidate "rafter" at rafterjumpon.com which would soon open doors for me to be accepted as a freelance writer/ correspondent to a media website which will be launched this year.

But for me to be accepted, I need your support by GIVING ME A THUMBS UP, leaving a comment on the page or BY JUST VISITING MY ARTICLES.

Here's the URL

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I wouldn't mind if your feel my write-ups aren't worth a thumbs' up. In which case, I would like to hear what I need to improve about. Thanks a lot, friend.

I would even be happier if you'd mind telling this to your friends. Thanks...

If you also feel that a writer's blood is running through your veins, don't hesitate to apply. A considerable amount awaits those who become an OFFICIAL RAFTER.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - J.K. Rowling

Is it farewell for Harry?

Indeed, nothing can be more sorrowful than saying goodbye to a true friend that for some time has given you something to look forward to. Such shrill emotion may have been the feeling of every Potter reader out there especially those who have grown with Harry in the seventeen year-conception of the seven-volumed series. Rowling had finally drawn a period over Harry last July 21 with the release of the most anticipated book in history, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Through sentences weaved with subtlety and exuberantly painted character personalities, the Deathly Hallows moved the reading public to a heart-hitting story drawing away from the convention pictured in the first six books. In this last installment, Hogwarts has become a battleground for archenemies Harry and Voldemort, though Harry really did a little in the fall of the dark lord. As Dumbledore puts it, Voldemort has met his fall due to his hasty and uncritical decisions. We have seen action and adventure all througout the last volume and indeed, little misunderstandings on the Ron-Harry-Hermione league may have caused their defeat, but luckily, friendship triumphed above all later in the novel.

Anger and the thirst for vengeance overpowered in The Hallows though with some essence of fright, despair and a little bit of humor - ingredients that well proved the author's greatness. Angst is one thing, death is more at a certain degree. But no matter how poor Dobby risked his life as well as other characters on Harry's side battled against evil, still, words of wisdom from Prof. Albus unmasked a profound understanding not only to Harry but to his readers as well. Nonetheless, Rowling opened a whole lot of light on the life of the then thought perfect and saintly Hogwarts headmaster as she moved Snape away from the bad light through stunningly and intricately laden revelation in chapters dedicated to them. Surely, surprises await anticipating readers.

Rowling may have been beffudled by the public's sudden fanatism to her books, but she can't deny that she had created a generation of Potter breeds who would assure the Potter series a spot in the hearts and minds of every generation of men. No, Harry hasn’t bid farewell yet. – nickyguinto

REMINDER:

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Battling a Deadly Typhoon

It was a regular weekday for me as I channelled my senses to a brand new set of school pressure. However, on another side, there was something different yet relatively memorable on that faithful day. The wind was pounding hard outside, whistling to an extreme blast. The rain was unusually brutal as it seemed like pieces of nails thrashing hard on the roof of the house I stay. I never bothered that much though since things like that are very much normal in a town like Lucban (a town in Quezon Province).

An hour later, the wind and the rain had become scarier. I and my room mate were clueless to the reality of the situation as well as the impending danger ahead our course. It’s nothing very normal, if you are studying and living in that place for two years. Trees were already uprooted, roofs are beginning to be ripped from their tight hold and there was an outcry of panic from neighboring households.

We never thought that a killer typhoon was already hours away to sweeping the track we took to take refuge to our own homes. Unknowingly, as students passed by the house where we were staying and declaring that classes were suspended, we decided to head home, some twenty kilometres away from Lucban, to the city of Lucena.

My roommate was hesitant at my suggestion because of the possibility of an accident on the road but I jokingly stressed, which somehow I later regretted, that I would rather die at the comfort of my family than solitarily wait for my doom in that narrow room. It was honestly just a joke because I literally don’t have any hint on how strong and powerful that typhoon was. And so, I won the argument.

We hastily packed our bags and placed everything in order before we left, that is far away from the windows so that if ever rainwater comes in, our belongings wont end wet. Our weather-beaten umbrellas were no match for the volume of rain thrashing down our path, the same as the gust of wind that pushed and pulled us on the road towards the jeepney terminal.

We reached the terminal on time because the barker rhapsodizingly mentioned that it was the last jeepney to travel for that day. I was more surprised than happy to be informed with the idea since it was only eight in the morning and jeepneys normally have their last trips in the terminal at 10 PM. This, again, made me somehow comprehend the seriousness of the weather condition. My room mate even asked me to turn back and just stay at our boarding house but still, I was determined to go which left him no choice but to come with me. I guess, it’s because I sensed a great adventure on the road, that’s why I never yielded from the challenge of the cruel weather condition. I don’t know, but whenever I hear that there’s a typhoon, I somehow get excited than scared of them. I even wanted to become a storm chaser someday had an opportunity come.

By the time the jeepney started moving, the weather was beginning to calm down. I was dejected, instead of being glad because the adventure seemed to pass away with the silence of the whistling wind. We reached the town dividing Lucban and Lucena apart - Tayabas, and the weather had considerably improved. I can even see the sun ready to shine behind the rain clouds as the environment became visible than before.

The rain had stopped and the wind became silent. But alarmingly, the sight of trees, electric posts and several sturdy houses knocked down on the road made me depressed. I thought about the condition of my family back home. At that moment, I remembered that I haven’t talked to them yet because the cellphone signal was off and telephone lines were cut down in Lucban. How strong is this typhoon?, I asked myself.

The condition was generally peaceful when we reached the city. You can’t see people roaming around for they were busy doing some last-minute repairs of their houses to shelter them from the storm. I thought everything was already okay and I was positive to reach home without any trouble on the way. My house is a jeepney ride, then a tricycle ride away, some five kilometres from where we were dropped by the other jeepney. I thought Typhoon Milenyo (Xangsane) had spared us. But I was wrong.

We boarded the last jeepney travelling towards the city proper. While on the road, we and other passengers noticed something very dark in the sky and the noise told us that danger was brewing fast. We were shocked at the immensity of darkness that enveloped us several seconds later.

The road professed zero visibility, a total black out from reality, coldness made us shiver, the fast flow of wind shut us away from all hopes we could muster but more than anything, the danger of a clash with an approaching vehicle dawned upon us harboring greater fear among every passenger.

Some of our co-passengers were already asking for mercy to all the saints they know. Women were shrieking a loud cry of agony. Others were asking the driver to stop for a while and let the tempest die away before we proceed again.

The sight was horrible. Leaves, tree branches, plastics, metal sheets, posters, tarpaulins, signboards, flowepots and many more were literally flying, some banging the jeepney causing us a lot of tremor inside. It was like a scene in the movie Twister because it seemed like I’m inside a tornado, just waiting for the right time to crash me into pieces.

Never did I feel such dread in my eighteen years of existence in this world and never will I forget such a sight and feeling. Yes, I prayed. I prayed that if ever I did not survive that cruel condition, I hope somehow, my family would find my remains complete and unscathed. If you were in the same situation, you’d honestly think that only a miracle could save you from the danger of death; you’d just submit your wholeness to the Almighty as your last gleam of hope.

The weather became even more unkind as we moved slowly toward the city proper. The driver finally gave up. He wretchedly told us that he has to stop permanently, at the opening of the city proper because there were several instances that the jeepney was almost turned down by the wind. I sensed fear in his tone. No one complained, but everyone was wet by that time because the rain found its way inside the vehicle. My problem was, I still have to travel for two to three kilometres more to reach home.

Me and my room mate decided to part ways afterwards. He decided to wait somewhere safe until the weather permitted him to head home. I settled to continue the fight with Milenyo. The streets were flooded. My umbrella gave up. Darkness was still lingering and the typhoon ruthlessly pelted more rain accompanied by a growling wind.

There was nowhere else to go. I walked at the heart of the city and signs of establishments were already flying and falling on the ground. I was lucky to dodge one flying across me had I not turned back to see where I was. I would have died at that instant. It’s still not my time to die, I told myself.

But the battle wasn’t finished yet. Everything I have was soaking wet. Even the things inside my bag: my notes, my school papers, my clothes, my phone. I was freezing. I feared that if I would not die by the viciousness of the storm, I’d be killed by hypothermia.

Wait, I thought I saw a signal on my phone. And God, I did. I called home and they said they’re fine. Thank God. But God, I wasn’t. I said I’ll be there in a minute’s time if I’m lucky and they were shocked to know that I left Lucban and was battling my way to get there. We ended the conversation with an exchange of “take care.” When I hung up, I simply smiled with the notion that no matter how much I take care of myself, with one shot, I’d be off in this world. I somehow let out a wide grin.

Afterwards, a driver offered me a ride to the provincial capitol site where I luckily caught a passing tricycle. Still, nothing can be seen ahead and everything around me was in total chaos. I was thankful to reach home safely. I paid the driver twenty pesos, triple the price of any regular ride. My family was happy to see me safe, unharmed but wet, totally wet. By then, ironically, the weather started to calm down and winds refrained from its terrible howl. Was I being tested? Was that a challenge? Questions like that sprang to my head because anyone who experienced the same would have questioned mother nature why, of all the people, I was the one she chose to inflict her vengeance!

When I know it was perfectly safe to go out and after the chest-high flood drained away, I took a little journey around our place and I discovered the wide scale damage caused by the typhoon. I became even more glad to know I survived that deadly typhoon after seeing the dreadful aftermath. I went to the place where I was nearly hit by a sign board and I saw it, a few meters away from where I last saw it. God, I’m lucky, I asserted.

On top of these, I am thankful that I am able to share this adventure now etched in my head with a body that is complete and unscratched. But no matter how much fear that adventure brought me into, I would never forget the lesson I Iearned from this battle: Death is sometimes, a matter of choice. Why should I learn this in a traumatic way? But, considering all these things, I must confess that if given the chance, I would be happy to have such a life-threatening experience again. Believe it!

photo credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Typhoon_Xangsane
Date Retreived: May 14, 2008

what would it be like to have a lifestyle of the rich and famous?

I fondly ask myself all the time why I was born to a family clinging at the edge of the poverty line. What if fairy tale stories are true. What if there are genies who could grant anything you wish? What if people are born with the choice about how they would like their lives to be? Too many what ifs.

I have so many things that I want to buy to be satisfied and be happy. Although I already have some of them, they still can't pacify my hunger for other things. When I see them displayed on store windows, I daydream that it's/ they are mine which usually ends with disappointment because I know that it's impossible because it's/ they are too expensive.

Well these things are actually tech gadgets because I'm a kind of person who likes to give them a shot and eventually be an expert of them for me to share the knowledge to those who would be needing them. I believe I'm someone who always have a question on different things. And my way to answer them is through personal discovery. It's something which gives me a sense of fulfillment.

So, in connection to my topic, if ever I was born with a silver spoon on my mouth (is that the right idiom? hehe) my life would be truly perfect.

I was surfing the net one day about a certain asianovela which gained wide acceptance in the this country. I stumbled upon the blog of one of the main cast and there I've read how sad he is because he can no longer be free to do whatever he wants and that he is always tired.

Life is so ironic isn't it? There are people who desperately wants to be a celebrity and yet there are those who are celebrities already but wants to escape from the wonder that fame give them!

I asked myself, what if I am a world-renowned celebrity like him? Would I also end up being tired of my fans' gaze and admiration? True, being on top meant a stack of responsibilities and stressful expectations from people who believe in you. And I should reveal that sometimes I feel something like that, although not under the context of being a celebrity.. It's in school, that is. After working your way to being one of the best, all eyes are on your every move, to the point that if you made one single mistake, it would mean the end of your world!

Well, possibly, spiderman is right that "Great power comes with great responsibilities." don't you think?

I am thankful, however to be born in a family who is so loving and supportive. But if ever I would be given the chance, if ever fairy tales are true, if ever there are genies who could grant my wishes, I would also love to try for once the lifestyle of the rich and famous...

TIME 100's out!

If you happened to read some articles in TIME, you'd probably agree that some of the best writers in this world are working for them. The write-ups are so great that it's like reading a never-before heard news item or something. They make every single detail interesting because of their fluency in the art of writing, which I hope one day I could somehow achieve.

That's basically why I dream that one day some of my writings will also be published on the magazine. I haven't bought any issue lately until now because of a financial downturn (it costs P 120 here if you're not a subscriber).

But I can't resist this issue since I'm a person who is interested about the lives of persons who make the world go round. I want to learn about them. I want to know how they became so successful and so famous. I believe that somehow, if I follow the same path they've taken, I could achieve the same success (Don't worry. I know people are different and I have to decide a road on my own!). They serve as a guide to a sure path.

I'm so thrilled! It's beginning to become one of my collections. This is my second issue of the TIME 100!

Happy Mothers' Day!

I have written this article (a memoir actually) in my Creative Writing class. I personally dedicate this to my mother who is working abroad to support our needs. I love you mom... Happy mothers' day...

In the Absence of Light

My life is seemingly perfect as any acquaintance would put it. I have every material thing I could ask for: shelves of my favorite books, up-to-date technological gadgets, top-of-the-line clothing, copies of my favorite movies, a room back home that I can call my own – name it, and I’ve got them all.

I am the envy of my relatives, neighbors and peers: I have achieved far greater honor than any other relatives in the family; I have gained a good reputation and a sense of respect in our neighborhood for the academic achievements I bring back home; I am the head of an academic organization, editor of our publication and consistent academic scholar. There is no doubt I live a perfect life with the smiles I unrelentingly wear every hour of the day, seven days a week.

Conversely, I must confess that the outside look can be so deceiving. Under those portraits of mirth painted on my face is an abyss of clandestine which, for so long, have held to conceal a lonely and sorrowful lad. Yes, I have these material things and a life anyone would risk theirs just to get a hold of mine but there’s one thing I would never barter with what I already have, which they say, I now enjoy. And that is, being in the caring hands and loving arms of my mother.

I remember perfectly well how and why for a decade’s time, I only felt a mother’s touch in not more than ten times, though I know that what I feel is just a speck in her wall of miseries she unbearably carried all throughout those woeful years, which, as of this time, is raging up at an unimaginable height.

Her life had been hell yet she chose to suffer than give us, her children, the unkindly burden. She had a choice but she turned her back just to give us a brighter tomorrow she once envisioned to be her own. She could have been great with the degree she had finished yet she took the “surest path” en route a thorny life in exchange of smiles in our faces every time she sends her pay. I have never seen nor heard anyone as unselfish as my mother – the only person in the world who would make my nearly perfect life complete.

September of the year 1996, as far as I can remember, was the date when it started all. A cousin of mine came all the way from Hong Kong to persuade mother about the great opportunities abroad but she denied the idea, thinking that we were still young. I was a mere eight-year-old boy who knows nothing about the world except school and home. I was there when they talked about the matter but nothing sort of triggered an alarm in my innocent brain cells.

Some time in December that same year, we experienced the most pressing ordeal (in my point of view) in terms of financial matters which paved the way to mother and father’s decision to grab the opportunity. Father lost his job and he feared he could not secure a better one for in every opening is a requirement of an educational attainment higher than an elementary graduate. Mother, at that time, can’t not bear to allow us stop school since she treasures education so much. She gathered all her strengths to find a suitable job and she ended up as a substitute teacher in a barangay elementary school. She’s a bachelor of elementary education diploma-holder.

But all these actions did no good, although we could at least eat three times a day and we have a baon at our lunchboxes in school everyday. And so they did the dreadful thing. They phoned in my cousin to tell that she’s taking the offer.

In the months that followed, mother and father quarreled over their decision. Father insisted that she needed not to go but mother grudgingly disapproves thinking about her meager salary and father’s also for he convinced one of his compadres to allow him drive the tricycle the latter owns and, of course, most of all, the expenses they had spent for mother’s papers to be processed which caused us a mountain of debts.

It was July 11, 1997 when mother and father had their first sorrowful wedding anniversary since the day after that would be their most dreaded time after all those months of decision-making, quarreling and settling everything in. I have seen in their eyes that deep inside their empty stares is a weeping heart avoiding as much as possible to blame one another. At that point, there was no turning back.

I didn’t very much care what was going on since the idea that my mom is leaving is the very least that could come into my fragile mind. But some of my relatives came rushing to our home to escort us and mother to the airport. No one ever spoke to us three about mother’s departure (as far as I can recall) yet they tried their best to show us their melancholic sympathy through telling us stories about mother when she was young and how she had managed to succeed much like what we were doing those times in school.

“Your mother was self-reliant when she was in your age. She had endured a kilometer walk everyday just to reach school” – an aunt said while lending a helping hand on mother’s packing - “no wonder why you three are as much as achievers as your mother.”

And then mother would give a cold laugh and say in her kind and soothing voice “Don’t brag about me in my children.” – and would be followed by a sound of preaching – “it’s not me whom they have to thank. It’s God who gave them their extraordinary brains.” then it would be followed by a cheerful smile at us.

You see, we were literally sticking together during that time since our house back then was incapable of accommodating such a number of people. And such conversations continued until the time we really have to leave – still having not a single hint nor care of what was about to happen.

At the stroke of midnight in July 12, we left our house and boarded the jeepney owned by one of my uncles. While we were on the ride, one of my cousins told me that we were invited by my uncle to pay a visit to the place where “airplanes fall.” My nerves jumped as I heard the news and I looked forward to see such beautiful scenery. I fell asleep every so often on that ride since it’s still evening but the continuous laughing, story-telling and honks of other vehicles deprived me from a good sleep.

Nonetheless, it could not be mistaken that there was something troubling mother. From the time we rode the jeepney, she talked very little and continued to stare at a certain point. I felt it even remorseful to see mother trying to embrace us all as one.

“Is there something wrong? Tell it to nanay and everything will be alright,” she said one moment when I was awoken by the hard laughs of my aunts.

“No, nothing po,” I would tell at a begrudged smile as the thought of the mysteriousness of mother and the untimely trip seep once again into my conscious senses.

“Son, take care of your sisters, okay? Don’t give father a headache. Obey him with respect as you are to me. Study hard because that’s the only thing that I and your father could give you. Always pray to God. He’ll give us strength..,” mother told me in one of those moments of wake but I paid a little attention. I did not develop the understanding at that time about the strangeness of her lines. I courteously answered with a nod and her smiles became even emptier.

It was already morning when I was awoken for the last time. Mother had gone to sleep and we were then passing the towering skyscrapers and flyovers, the Metro Manila slum areas and the seemingly unending traffic. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the trip by looking at and pointing and counting the towering buildings and the big city roads. The sight was exhilarating and that was my very first memory of Manila. Then, a moment later, I saw airplanes becoming bigger and bigger in sight as they “fall” from the sky. The awe-inspiring sight kept me curious about how these bird machines fly with such an enormous size, judging also by the thundering sound it produce. By that time, mother was already awake and joined my aunts and cousins in their conversations. They were laughing yet mother’s eyes don’t tell the same. Something really is troubling her, I said to myself. It’s something like that rare occasion when your hearts meet to communicate the feelings they try to conceal yet overpowering with the need for outbursts just to alleviate the weight. But mother held strong of her feelings.

We finally reached the airport. There were rows of every kind of vehicle you could imagine. Upon our arrival, we ate our breakfast. I was eventually dragged by my cousins to the other parts of the airport. I must admit, the experience was very memorable because at the sight of it, I fell under the impression that I’m in a foreign land because of the sophistication I only had the chance to see in TV and yet I was there. Different kinds of people were pouring in and out of the main door of the building with others in the background, calling out the names of those who come out with excitement painted on their faces. And then, I remembered, where is mother?

I was brought later at the departure area, although at the first mention of it, nothing in particular crossed in my mind. But by the mention of my mother’s name, I was aghast to hear them telling something I can’t quite comprehend.

“Two long years, no vacation yet with a good price every month. But I trust that she’s gonna make it though. I mean, how many have gone there that lasted only for two years? Probably the weaker ones only. With that opportunity, I wouldn’t be surprised if after two years, she’ll return again and again.”

Halfway through their conversation, some of our companions have cared to join us in the wait. It was only then that the true nature of our travel became clearer and clearer.

“Your mother, in a few minute’s time will be boarding an airplane bound to Hong Kong,” – a sympathetic aunt told me – “Do you know where that is?” she asked in a somewhat sarcastic manner, as if half-expecting that I already have answers in my mind.

I shook my head wonderingly, trying to extract anything out of my young brain about the faintest hint regarding the place in question. But the lack of knowledge made me more and more irritated. Is it that far? Could we not pay her a visit from time to time? I would like to ask them these questions yet I know they would only say things far from my expectations. I feared their answers. My aunt did not have the chance to continue what she was saying because my cousin broke out with a shout “Tiya Norma’s over there!”

I could not see anything. I struggled to go as close as I could but I was barred by rails. I asked them where she was and they pointed a place obscured by a throng of people going in the same way. “Nay!” I shouted, but no one turned her back. I shouted and shouted but my uncle lifted his hand in my shoulder only to tell that she could not hear me anymore because she’s already inside and it’s time that we go. For a moment, I scanned the inside of the building from where I was standing, trying to catch a glimpse of her, but she’s nowhere to be found.

I wanted to see her so badly that anger, mixed with an agonizing thought trickled down my spines. What a cruel thing to do! I never got the chance to give my formal farewell to her, to feel her last embrace and seek for her motherly kiss for the last time before the two-year ordeal. But none of them possibly had the slightest idea of what I felt during those times. After all, she’s not their mother who devoted her time in taking good care of me all those years. She’s not their mother who first taught me how to read and write. She’s not their mother who consoled me in my roughest time in school. And she’s not their mother who became my only source of strength to stand tall everyday while expressing her own little way of a motherly love and care that is unlike any others.

My blood surged with hatred with some of our companions for hiding from us the very fact which we solely deserved to know. They kept on blabbering and blabbering until we arrived at the parking area yet I felt like I was deaf as we approached the jeepney. They told comforting words but nothing can delude me from the emptiness I felt inside and a heavy lump in my chest. I wanted to burst out but I know better than to do so since there can be nothing I could do. By that time, mother’s plane would have taxied and was already in the air. The thought of sight-seeing and wondering at the gigantic establishments diminished as I decided to sleep my anger over.

When I woke up, we were already home but the thought of mother’s leaving pierced my heart in two. Nobody among us talked much. As I found the right place to pour out my fury, tears automatically welled off my eyes. I know they too feel the same and I know father felt the same either because I heard him whimper. Silence at home was unbearable that night. I know the next two years would be different. I know I had to make myself ready for the environment which became new at my sight. Nothing can be done but to go with the flow. That’s just what we must do.

I had no doubt about how much everything would change. In the absence of light in the family, life was difficult at first since my father know nothing about house-keeping work and he has a very very short temper. But I admire my father in his pursuit to learn nanay’s ways. In due time, he became a professional na-tay to us. At this moment, it would be fitting to tell how much I thank God for giving me parents any teenager like me would envy of.

After Nanay’s two-year contract, she was hired once again by the same employer up until now because they can’t risk letting go of someone they now consider a family. Although mother would have denied the offer, she knows better to take it to ensure that the three of us would graduate college and be the person we wanted to become no matter how hurtful it is for her not to see us grow up. I know it’s every mother’s desire to see their children whom they took care inside them for nine months and eventually gave life on earth become the best they can be through their guidance and tender love. It would be hard for them to bear that after their sufferings, they would go home with nothing but a bunch of drop-outs and delinquents, much like the story in the movie Anak (a local movie about the hardships of a mother in working abroad and coming home with her children unhappy of her presence), which every time mother would watch, she would cry a river of tears.

However, despite the geographical hindrance, she never failed to do her family task of being a mother. She’s always there in my triumphs and defeats, in my agony and bliss and in every hope turned despair. She’s as if always at my side to keep me warm over the cold and provide me support with her wide smile in my struggles. Everything that I achieved and will still achieve will be a product of the love my mother never failed to give. It’s she who deserved to have all the things I now have.

Now, at this point, I must iterate that in the absence of light, life may not be as perfect as in the case of others, but as for me and my family, I never thought that light can find its way home no matter how far and impossible it may seem.

Hanggang dito na lang po at Maraming Salamat - Orlando Nadres

"Love knows no boundary." This is an aphorism which I'm uncertain whether it came from one of the many literary masterpieces I have read or just a product of my creative thought since it sprang into my mind unconsciously while musing over something else.

The short play entitled "Hanggang dito nalang po at Maraming Salamat" penned by the late Orlando Nadres, a proud Tayabasin (from Tayabas City, Quezon, Phillippines) reminded me again of the same adage since it tackles about an extraordinary feeling of love that is far from the normally accepted kind. That is, love for the same sex.

The short play is an answer of Nadres to the increasing call for gay liberation in the Philippines during the 70's and 80's. It was written in 1975 and was first shown by the Philippine Education Theatrical Association (PETA) in Manila. From then on, it was re-staged at different places around the country and even around the world. It was shown also in Broadway, New York, the place believed to be the cradle of gay liberation as well as in different countries in Europe making it a classic in the process.

It is a story of a middle-aged man named Fidel who fell in love with a young man by the name of Efren. Fidel is a "closet gay" but he has a friend named Julius Caesar Aquino (who wants to be called "Julie") who can be easily distinguished as a homosexual based from his actions and manner of dressing.

The story began with Fidel, coming back home from a day's work. Fidel is a jewelry/ money lender who works in a pawnshop in their place. Upon his arrival, he received a letter from Efren, a teen-aged boy who is in his fourth year college studying in Manila. Fidel is the one who provides Efren with money to spend for his school fees as well as his other needs in the city since Efren's mother is just a vendor in the market whose earnings are not enough to send him to college.

Efren reveals in his letter that he will come visit Fidel the next day, whom he learned to call "tito" (uncle) through the years as a sign of respect, to give him his good news personally. The boy's letters markedly end with the sentence: "Hanggang dito na lang po at Maraming Salamat" (This ends here and Thank You Very Much.)

Fidel made himself ready by asking his friend Julius Caesar to give him a manicure and from then on, Julie knew that his friend's "boy" will be arriving after a struggle with Fidel to read the letter which Efren had sent. From the expression of Fidel on Julie's questions, he already knew that his friend loves the boy.

The love which Fidel feels towards the young man has been revealed to the audience because of the continuous provocations of Julie as well as his urging that it's just the right time that Fidel should come out of the "closet" and reveal his true identity. Fidel, however, is perplexed whether he should listen to Julie's prattles, but Fidel is still firm not to expose himself.

Efren arrived the next day in the evening and visited his Tito Fidel first to promise that he'll be spending time with him the next day. Efren came the next day and few minutes later, Julie arrived too. Julie tried to seduce Efren but the latter snobbed the former no matter what he does.

Julie inquired why he acts like that. Efren firmly answered that people like Julie should better find a wife to love, not to flirt with a man like him. He further stated that the kind of Julie deserves no respect for they are beasts who are immorally filthy.

Fidel suddenly arrives on the scene and forced Julie to leave. Fidel asked why Efren is so angry with Julie and Efren retold his traumatizing experience in his boarding house in Manila. He storied that one night, he agreed on a drinking session with the son (a gay) of his land lord. He was totally drunk that he lost consciousness and control over his body. But he was molested and his landlord's son took advantage of his weakness that night which caused him to hate homosexuals so much. Fidel was bothered that somebody else had already explored Efren's body that seemed to tell the audience that he felt disappointed not to be the first one. (I believe he feels like he possesses Efren already that nobody but him could touch the boy)

Afterwards, adding up to the burden brewing inside Fidel's thought, Efren revealed that he will marry the beautiful and kind girl who helped him to be hired in a factory. Fidel was crestfallen over the news.

Sensing that Fidel's actions became different, Efren stood up but Fidel faced him, held his hand and caressed his body. Efren felt awkward but then, Fidel all of a sudden tried to kiss him.

Efren staggered and eventually run away from the place. After that, Julie arrived in a beautiful gown holding a trophy on one hand, proud that he had won "Ms. Swards 1970" which he earlier offered to Fidel to compete to finally unveil his true identity.

Fidel told Julie about what happened. Julie soliloquized and spilled out the sufferings, discrimination and ill-treatment experienced by the third sex that happens to be the reality in any relationship they commit into.

Efren returned the other day to bid good bye to Fidel. He'll be catching the first train to return to Manila. Fidel disclosed his love to Efren and he resented why he became like that, a gay. He, as he storied, even sought after the advice of a doctor, a priest or any other who can help "cure" his "disease." But he can't be cured. Efren apologized but Fidel said that he need not to apologize.

Fidel reminisced the first time he saw Efren as a young boy whose family was as poor as a rat. He helped Efren from that time on. From what seemed to be a feeling of pity over the unfortunate boy, Fidel's began to love him when one day Efren stood proud that he was already wearing pants during his high school days. He mentioned that Efren had almost grown up on his side, that when he left to study in Manila, he constantly looked forward to vacations and holidays because those are the only times when he could see Efren.

But in the end, Efren eventually left leaving Fidel tormented.

From this story, it became truly perplexing how much the power of love could make a man shut down his senses of the reality. Fidel, being an educated man should have known that he would just end up as a loser in the game, thus should have accepted it in the first place. But, like many others, he's a character who expresses his desire for another person through money and material things without any assurance about whether the one receiving the benefit would feel the same thing as he feels. This is true among gays in the country because for them, there is no other way to secure a man they fancy of than money.

What they don't understand is that love asks for no prize or exchange, nor does it seek approval or acceptance. It's a natural exchange happening among two individuals that is characterized by being balanced and just. And "two individuals" in this context does not only pertain to a common man and woman. Let's move away from the traditional idea and accept the fact that there are people who possess different qualities compared to common ones.

Since love comes natural among us, the way people see you physically should not serve as a hindrance to exchange pies with the one you truly feel admiration to. Otherwise, come the time you're old and you'll regret you did not live a fruitful and joyful life.

The actors truly gave their best, having been portrayed the characters entrusted to them as real and as subtle as possible. Although only three characters worked out the story on stage, anyone who have seen it would agree that they had impressively showcased the message within the story itself.

True, the play is brilliantly written and directed but on any angle I would look at, it's still a story which is very common, to the point that every scene is predictable and could rouse controversies similar to those of the present day. To tell you honestly, the story has nothing special as it is how things go in regular stories in similar nature. However, I am not taking away the possibility that if we judge it according to the time it was written, it 's beyond doubt that it is genuinely an outstanding work of art since during those times, the third sex is a taboo in the society.

But still, my instinct tells me that if I give 4 stars for this, I wouldn't have that taste for art. That's why, it's two thumbs up a perfect 5 star for Nadres' play.

Note: I will soon add the names of the director and complete cast in this article. I failed to remember all of their names at once. I will also provide a clearer photo soon. My apologies.

ANNOUNCEMENT:

The play which is reviewed here is on its final two nights. Catch them at these times:

MAY 10 (Saturday) @ 6:30 PM in Kamay Ni Jesus Healing Center, Lucban, Quezon

MAY 11 (Sunday) @ 6:30 PM in Kamay ni Jesus Healing Center, Lucban, Quezon

ENTRANCE IS ABSOLUTELY FREE!!!

But you may want to donate for the improvement of the healing center.

REMINDER:

IF YOU ARE TO QUOTE OR TO COPY ANY LINES OR THIS WHOLE REVIEW, PLEASE DO INFORM ME AT bibliosensei@gmail.com OR YOU MAY POST A MESSAGE OR COMMENT HERE ON THIS BLOG. PLEASE DO CITE MY NAME ON YOUR REFERENCE LIST. THANKS.

The Lord of the Flies - William Golding

Category: Books
Genre: Fiction
Year Published: 1954

The present society with which we live in is marred by the undying clamor for the breach in the terms stated in the mandate in connection with the freedom of expression as well as the bill of rights of the citizen. Democracy has turned into fascism, as many other people would say. And this is true all over the world for people ruled under the democratic principles of governance.

However, while reading Golding's highly appraised novel, I came to realize that sometimes, it is necessary for a national leader to hold his people tighter if he wants his subjects to be more inclined at what they should be doing, that is, working towards progress.

Evilness and savagery is innate in the blood and veins of humans for we still are animals in any way you look. From the moment we were born, we all possess those qualities but because we are being tamed and honed by an authority of rules and laws, we tend to become more civilized in the process of growth and development. This is the core of Golding's novel.

But no matter how you look on it and no matter how very truthful, or rather, revealing the ideas that the author presented, the whole narrative itself is enveloped by wickedness and darkness. The use of a bunch of school boys may be impressive for many others which truthfully paved the way to a faster transmission of the things the author tried to tell his readers, it's quite far off that the death of some companions should serve as the consequence for the battle of power and superiority.

True, people who do not have other choice than to kill opponents, like those politicians who are very much engrossed at wielding power for their own interests are the very persons who could do that, but a good writer knows how to convey his message in a lighter way which if analyzed, would be more striking than what the senses could naturally perceive.

The Lord of the Flies is a novel about a group of school boys who was stuck in an island after the airplane which they boarded failed to reach its destination due to a storm. At first, everything was in order after they chose a leader and after they decided on their respective tasks to survive and be rescued from the dreadful island. Envy and greed in power caused a rift between the boys which cut loose the string that tied them together.

Little by little, the popularly-selected authority lost control and savagery took over the once civilized boys. They feared of a beast somewhere up in the mountain, but they are unaware that the beast is actually within themselves. Death of two of their companions followed before they were eventually rescued by a passing navy ship and only then did they realize the offenses they did.

Without reference to my previous assertions, I laud Golding for being so bold and for expressing the ills of the society in a creative yet striking manner.

If you want a novel that reveals the prevailing social conditions, then this definitely is for you. But be sure that you're not faint-hearted.

NARNIA: The Horse and His Boy - C.S. Lewis

Category: Books
Genre: Children's Literature/ Fiction
Published : 1954

There is indeed a large difference between writing an adventure novel from writing a novel which should turn into an adventure. The former could be defined quite impressively by a writer who's passion in the art is innate while the latter can just be a product of someone who thinks he writes with passion.

I have read many other masterpieces in print and I'm sure I'm worthy enough to tell which author fits the quality of whichever. And I should say, at this point that C.S. Lewis possess the genuine quality of the former, the one whose passion in writing is innate.

The same quality of Lewis has been testified by his great installment to the Narnia series by the title of The Horse and His Boy. Although I did not find the 2nd book (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) in the series commendable in my view, this third book made me think over the aforementioned conclusion.

Have I read the second book write? Or am are my senses numbed by the time I was reading the 2nd book? Because to tell you honestly, I was really impressed with how Lewis provided an impressive plot.

It was entitled so under the idea that in Narnia, animals and humans are treated equally. That's why, instead of saying the boy and his horse, it's the horse and his boy since Bree, the horse, seemed to own Shasta, his human after allowing him to ride on his back and be directed with the way. In short, the horse possesses the boy in the narrative.

The story is about a boy named Shasta, who by work of greed in power during his younger days, have unfortunately been taken away from his family which is the royalty in Archenland (a kingdom before the land of Narnia). He knows that he is a son of a vicious fisherman who enslaves him until a talking horse (a Narnian horse) together with his evil master spent the night at their place. Bree and Shasta that night decided to run away from their masters which began their long, tiring and surprising journey towards Archenland and Narnia.

On the way, they met Aravis, a princess of another kingdom who, like them, run away from home too because she was bound to be wed to a grand vizier (I think it's an adviser or something to the king), but the problem is the grand vizier is too old for her and niether does she love the old man.

Most of the story and surprises happened and springed up while they were crossing Tashbaan and the great desert. It's a thrilling adventure with a shocking, or rather, sudden revelation in the end which children and adult alike who would delve on this masterpiece would enjoy, treasure and remember.

Let's put away the formal tone. If you are someone who loves sudden twists at the end of the story as much as I am, I doubt you'd ever let yourself hanging until you finally let down that rear cover.

As I've mentioned, because of this third volume of Lewis' most revered series in the literary history, my eagerness to grab a copy of the succeeding volumes on the list has woken up my senses with The Chronicles of Narnia because, as you know, and if you have read my other reviews when it comes to the 2nd book, I've mentioned that I was disappointed with how it turned out, which I will not take back. Dullness is far from the third one and vividness of the picture it portrays made me give two thumbs up for the author.

If you're a Harry Potter or a Lord of the Rings fan, don't miss this out.

a day when several thousands were spent

this is a very memorable sunday for me. the title already revealed why. several thousands were spent. several thousands of what? of course, nothing else, but money. I have never felt so filthy rich for a day ever since when. (i couldn't really tell when that day ever happened.)

well, of course, the money came from my mom, which I won't reveal the details. let's just say that finally, we have paid our debts from our family's close kins and friends. Bless them!


gaining weight requires a good price



for some of you who is familiar with me, better yet, who have seen me, you would strongly, violently and bloodily (hyperbole ok?) oppose that i'm the type of guy who is macho, who has great abs and a man who have been gifted with a model-like and worth-being-a-magazine-cover physique. No, i'm sure not. I know you'll bet your life if you'd agree to that. (meanies!)

anyway, last year, i've heard, or rather, i've read, or is it seen? Seen would be better. So I've seen this product on a daily which back then seemed to be the answer to my unending call for God's mercy of making my body fit to being a body of my age. I guess He was exhausted already with my clamors, that's why.. hehe..

And so, back to this product. It's branded as APPETON WEIGHT GAIN. But all my hopes turned to a dreadful misery after inquiring about its price as well as its availability. It was out of stock in my place (out of stock meant they don't really bother to order for the product, i guess).

I don't blame them for making it "out of stock" when all the advertisements point out that it's already available nationwide on that particular drug store (save the name, i don't like to be sued). (Since when did our place, a city down south Manila, been erased on the map of the Philippines?)

You wanna know the price? It's a whooping Php 1300 (for 900ml) and Php 750 (for 450ml). Expensive? Yes, for people like us who's parents' monthly earnings are not enough to satisfy our luxuries, only the needs. Back then, I accepted already the sad fact that my tounge wont ever taste even a drop of that milk drink.

But just this morning, I was truly elated to see that my father thought about buying me one. (the 450 ml only, actually, but, thankfully, he wanted to be "economical" so he bought the bigger one, twice the content of the "little appeton"). Well, I guess, he's afraid that I might end up being teased by my future students as unworthy of the profession all because of my "physical deficiency". my "slimmnes".



Honestly, that was already planned because I don't pretty much have anything good to do this summer vacation but to sleep, eat, do my hobbies, sleep, eat, and do my hobbies again. Nothing more, nothing less. I won't be needing to sleep at 7AM and eventually wake up at 8AM of the same day to catch up with a trip to my university. Thank God, a two-month rest from school was mandated. Or else, I'm a dead meat, or better, bone if not! Whoo!

So after finally holding it, as if it's a priced possessions; as if it's a chest brimming with jewelry and greenbacks, I fondly imagined myself turning into a well-built man from a stick. I hope my "greatest dream" would come true. So help me God. (Dad's actually forcing me to sleep right now because he reasoned that I won't feel the benefits of the milk drink if I always sleep at 3AM. Sorry dad, but I have to finish this. I'm quite thrilled to write, see.)


And so, after finally releasing the milk drink from it's tight lid, I then noticed this: PRODUCT OF FRANCE. So, that answers why it's worth a gold bar! It crossed-over the continents just to fall in my hands. But, I do hope that it would keep the promise of improving my weight. I hope I did not waste not only several hundreds of pesos as well as this blog entry cum promotional ad just for some fraud. I have high hopes on you!!


belting down that slim waist

i've got loads of problems when it comes to my weight. At a tender age of 19, I have already suffered too much! Too much, I say! (sigh...)

when I pay a visit to the malls, I always receive frustrated eyes of sales ladies after finally giving up all the chances of dressing me up, after several tries, ESPECIALLY that of my lower part of the body. No good pants really fitted me. That's why, I always end up with the not-so-stylish ones. Although back then, when I still have some of those withered fats, I have bought merchandise next to good ones.

therefore, all of my good ones have considerably grown larger to my recent self. so, I have to use good belts to help my body carry the weight of the jeans. Bust sadly, last year, my one and only "good belt" which really fits into my unique waistline bid me goodbye. It surrendered already with so much work I give him. so, I ended up using the "not-so-good ones" until now.

to tell you the truth, it's really hard to use belts which are manufactured for people whose waistline range from 40 cm - 50 cm. I felt like i'm being tied into a rope and never breath to death afterwards. I curse that belt!

well, luckily again, my father agreed to buy me a new one (probably out of pity). One with stylish colors on it, though simple in a glance. I like simple things.

i'm not really particular on the things that I wear, whether they are fake or original. As long as I could use them, and as long as it makes me good on the eyes of other, then I'm satisfied. But after buying that belt on a mall near our place, I resented on how much it costed us.

it's Php 299.75, just for a belt! That's truly absurd! But sadly, I only thought about it when I was already walking away from the counter while the sales ladies wave me goodbye for joy that they once again fooled another helpless being. I pitied myself.

i could have bought something more reasonable that just a belt with that money. Oh, why should the grudge always appear after the event. Silly life!


opening a new window

since i'm always being haunted by my daily practice during schooldays (sleeping early in the morning), I always had difficulty sleeping. And so, as always, I kept myself busy with a book to lull me to sleep, at the same time, give me enjoyment and satisfaction that I have fulfilled something each day.

i don't want wasting my time over things which won't give me something new to learn or experience. I am hungry of knowledge, insights and experiences. I'm that kind of person. Honest!

i want to tell the world that I have done something good this summer vacation. Well, I just have finished reading The Lord of the Flies by William Golding, The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewiss and recently, or rather, yesterday morning, at about 3:30AM, I finished The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. My reviews on them will follow shortly if I found time and eagerness to write.

because I was left speechless in the utter goodness of the story, I was determined to grab a copy of its supposed sequel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which I luckily bought this day. After writing this very long blog entry (mind you, I started at 12:30 AM and it's already 1:40AM, 5/5/08!) i'll be leafing through its pages. I can't wait to see what happens next! (mouth drooling)


a new member of the family

my mom has always wanted to have her own cell phone. But she couldn't buy one because her salary is just enough for our needs here. so with this chance, we bought her a brand new phone, an imitation of Nokia 6300 (don't tell this to other ok? this is a secret between the two of us!). Although it's not truly the same with the original, the good thing is, it's price is fair enough, Php 3, 300.00 and it's features are just right for my mom's needs.

We are to send this phone to her to China (funny, it's a China phone, but it was bought in the Philippines only to be brought back and used in China) through my youngest sister since she was invited by my mom's employer to tour in Zhu Hai, China, a city just a ferry away from Hong Kong.

She's lucky, yes. I do hope I could also see the place one day. But it's good for her since she was forced to stop attending school because my parents can't afford to send us to college at the same time. So, in exchange, she'll be with my mom the whole time. (jealous...)



So, back to the phone. Although some say that a China phone is not a better choice for wise buyers, I must disagree because I could testify that the one that I've bought just last January looks as new as ever. so no need to worry too much about the great deal of money spent. It just depends on the user. That's true. If you take care of your things, naturally, they'll be at their best when you'll need them.

but this is a secret between the two of us, okay, whoever you are. Because my mom has no idea about this. I don't know whether she will be happy that we spent that much for her phone or be delighted that we at least have thought about her after doing so much to secure the money she owe to her boss. Dad already said she might get angry. You see, she's not the type of person who considers her welfare and interests first among the rest. She's someone who thinks first of our welfare before herself. And that's why I could call my mother a true noble person.

'till the next time...

Harry Potter and The Epic Journey to Fame - A Scrutiny of the Greatest Bildungsroman Ever Told

This is a published review on our college paper. Hope you'd enjoy it... If there's anything offensive here, just let me know. If you want to cite something, here's how you can do it:

Guinto, Nicanor L. "Harry Potter and the Epic Journey to Fame - A Scrutiny of the Greatest Bildungsroman Ever Told." The Footprints. Vol. 13, No. 1. June - December, 2007. pp. 18-19.

I really worked so hard to write this. I hope you could appreciate it.

Harry Potter and the Epic Journey to Fame
A Scrutiny of the Greatest Bildungsroman ever told

For seventeen years, we have seen how a fictional character by the name of Harry James Potter grow up in the hands of a newbie in the literary scene. We have sympathized with Harry’s plight as an orphan, tasted triumphs and defeats in his wealth of adventures, delivered peace and battled adversities in light for goodness, deciphered clues and uncovered truths enroute out of trouble and savored glory coupled with bliss for every trek well-passed. We have also seen the lighter side of Harry as he learned to love, reach out for love and fall out of love. Indeed, nothing is comparable with the vividness and subtlety of Harry’s character in the sea of fictional outgrowth – a character who lives not merely as a personality in a book but a living person in the hearts and minds of Potter enthusiasts and who in one way or another had been a companion, a comrade and a friend.

Every bits and pieces of Harry now provides the living proof of Joanne Kathlene Rowling’s magical wisdom and impeccable ingenuity. Her extraordinary jumpstart came to redefine the prodigious history of fiction writing, as she was hailed today as the author who rekindled the beauty of writing as well as the burning desire of readers in hope for a good story.

But there is more to Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling, which in itself a story of some kind. And here, I highlight some vital points which ushered this bildungsroman to an epic journey to fame.

Harry Potter and the Magical Writer

Imagine yourself as a plain language teacher with no other goals than to give your daughter a brighter future singlehandedly because your husband felt that you do not deserve him. Then after a couple of years, while sitting on a train station as a nobody, you became very very excited on something – a peculiar tale that keeps on urging you to put it into writing though you know that there’s not a single drop of a writer’s blood that flows in your body. But then, you finally decided to let it overcome you and in an instant you became the face of every magazine and the words of every newspaper print.

In Rowling’s case, it’s not a mere imagination, though. It’s a reality which is worth the buzz since if she never let loose such an overwhelming thought, she would never have been richer than Queen Elizabeth herself and as highly acclaimed as the man who was crucified to death.

“There is a J.K. Rowling who lives in the hearts and minds of children everywhere,” writes Lev Grossman in TIME’s July 23, 2005 issue. The kids and adults alike who share the same interest with the literary feat will forever remember the picturesque world of witchcraft and wizardry nor will they forget the times they took part to a history in the making as they stood to wait in a seamlessly endless line of devouts to the cashier in every book release.

Interestingly, as Grossman reveals in his interview with the author, this woman who invaded bookstores worldwide by storm through her spellbinding tale does not even like fantasy novels. She did not even finish reading Lord of the Rings nor did she lift her fingertips on a Narnia book – two early 50’s novels to which her books are being compared a lot. She tells that it was only when she finished writing the Philosopher’s Stone (Sorcerer’s Stone in the US) back in 1997, that she realized she had produced a 309-paged one.

The fiction writer, however, stood to her decision, until the release of the last installment last July 21, that she may never again write a Harry-Ron-Hermione sentence in her future books. But, nevertheless, fans are still hopeful that one day, Rowling would eventually give in and write another Harry.

Harry Potter and the Monumental Climb

The Harry Potter series by far has bent substantially all the records a book could ever have. Primarily, The Deathly Hallows soared as the fastest selling book of all time, having been sold with eleven million copies in the first 24 hours of its release worldwide. That’s roughly 127 copies per minute! Accordingly, the series became the primary cause why The New York Times introduced a Children’s Book Bestsellers back in 2000 because Harry Potter never left the number one spot.

Would you believe that before the bestselling series trailed its way to success, the author has been turned down by a number of publishers claiming that the theme and the universe of the story is so obsolete and fictionally clichéd? It was Bloomsbury which first saw the potential of Rowling. By now, the British publisher enjoys several billions of dollars and innumerable submissions from other prolific writers. It’s the same with the American publisher, Scholastic through Arthur A Levine, which holds majority of outside UK publications.

Rowling remembers that when her first book finally flew right onto her hands, ambivalence, instead of uncanny euphoria took over her. Would you blame her for such a shrill emotion when your little piece of ingenuity will fall under the conservative eyes of literature pundits?

But no negative comments made this phenomenal book break the sturdy wall that for so long have separated the young from the old. After months of the quiet launch, an unprecedented number of people in various ages and nationalities have learned their faithful ways to every book shop selling the novel and have embraced the thought that there will be a more enticing world in the perspective of a newbie in the fiction scene which they’ll be following all through its very end.

It reached its peak when it finally entered the United States. Early raves in Britain brought about unparalleled curiosity to each and every sons of Uncle Sam. What was then a silenced book launch became a tumultuous line of mid-night party releases from different parts of the globe in the book launches that followed.

And now, the image of that small, skinny, bespectacled boy will forever remain in the hearts and minds of people, most of which are adults, which will always remind them that once they’ve felthow to be a child again. By the way, “… old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young,” right?

Harry Potter and the Ingredients of Greatness

Professor Albus Dumbledore is probably the wisest of the wise in the literary picture today (though recently revealed to be a homosexual by the author herself). His wisdom echoes that of the author’s character. No wonder, her brilliance in concocting the best personality traits of her characters and painting a picture of a more enthralling world through balanced yet exuberant narratives are perhaps the most likely ingredients that paved the way to a “modern classic,” as critics put it, which “will last for a century, and a century after that, and another century after that,’ until mankind dissolves from existence.

Ruel S. De Vera, in his review with the Deathly Hallows (Phil. Daily Inquirer, July 23, 2007, p. C1) wrote “After 10 years…Rowling’s world-changing series about a young wizard growing up at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry reaches its conclusion as the most anticipated novel in history.” Indeed there’s no point of argument over such assertion as perceived from the statistical records earned by the books over the years.

What makes it great then? Not the title, not the cover, not even the never-ending praise and criticisms nor the unkind fate of Harry, his gang and even that of Voldemort’s, but the thought and feeling that there is a possibility of a thoroughly established world where magic really does exist just lingering somewhere around our planet.

They have a bank run by goblins, a form of currency in exchange of products and services, a marketplace – the Leaky Cauldron, a school – Hogwarts - which trains potential children, a concrete law, a variety of means for transportation and communication, a well-reserved history, a treasure trove of culture, traditions, practices and beliefs and of course, a government agency, the Ministry of Magic, which acts as mediator and overseer of the wizarding community. An extraordinary world as such, as Ms. Rowling puts it, is hidden under the International Confederation of Wizard’s Statute of Secrecy - a brilliant scheme to introduce a world that neither exists in the eyes of muggles (non-magical people) nor is acceptable in the olden days.

The author even made a strong relation to that of our written history because several centuries back, witches have been dispersed and worse burned to death by old Europe which may have caused them to go into hiding from the public’s eyes, given that the tale is true. Hence, the Potter books may be regarded as another living proof that if history and fiction connives, any imaginary piece will shine a brighter glow in a multitude of colors of prominence. Talk about The Da Vinci Code.

Harry Potter and the Sinister Attacks

J. D. Salinger, with his forceful novel The Catcher in the Rye have been in the prime light for scrutiny over the years due to its exposition of explicit and unacceptable language in his narratives and expressly including in improper teenage pretentions and angst. But then, it’s ironical that the novel now fulfills its greatness in various academic curriculums, including that of the Philippines’.

The same with the Potter books, the Order of the Phoenix became the talk of conservatives and fundamentalists regarding the outward expression of love and lust of the character towards one another and the “below-the-belt” violence spiced even more by death as its main theme. For an instance, Harry and Ron caught Ginny and Dean kissing with one another in a very conspicuous place and time but the latter dismissed the idea of doing their thing somewhere private. For those reasons, it now appears at the list of the Most Challenged Book of the century in close rank with that of Salinger’s.

Again, ironically, California State University, and now a number of other academic institutions, have introduced a course “The World of Harry Potter” in their curriculums. Some initiated various other activities related to the series which are geared towards promoting a thorough study of the novel.

Meanwhile other religious analysts argue that the book is highly heretical because it not only neglected God as the supreme being, it also promoted the vindictive deeds of witches which in the medieval ages have been condemned and kept into oblivion till now by none other than the church which dominated Europe back then. They say that a children’s book must inculcate the idea of a God as what its predecessors had done - The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia - which were mainly based on Christian teachings.

However, as I see it in a perspective of a devout, there are certain points in the novel which may have implicitly promoted a religion – Christianity to be exact. Didn’t Harry receive gifts from persons he loves when it is Christmas Day? and didn’t they have the so-called Easter Holidays?

In addition, isn’t Rowling’s stance of not defining a specific religion on her novels a brilliant scheme? If she never did so, no Muslim, nor Hindu nor Jew nor Bhuddist would have leafed through the pages of her book only to find out that a religion that is foreign to them or maybe which they probably condemn is highly appraised on the fictional work. If she did so, it wouldn’t be a worldwide craze as it is now.

Furthermore, Rowling was outwardly criticized for treating her story non-sentimentally. But Grossman in his article in TIME - J.K. Rowling, Hogwarts and All - gave the most appropriate notion as to why the Potter books now lies in the pinnacle amidst a sea of negative reactions. “It’s precisely Rowling’s lack of sentimentality,” Grossman writes, “her earthy, salty realness, her refusal to buy into the basic clichés of fantasy, that make her such a great fantasy writer.” And for that, she became a one of a kind trend-setter. Look at how James Patterson’s Maximum Ride Series, Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart Series and many others sprouted so fast in the bookshelves. Truly, the aforementioned answers the reader’s hunger for more plots similar to that of the Potter books while they stand waiting for the next volume to be released.

Copyright lawsuits were also thrown upon the author and her books. Even the-not-so-famous The Legend of Rah and the Muggles and Larry Potter and His Best Friend Lilly, a novel by Nancy Stouffer in 1984 partake in the Potter craze. Stouffer claims that she is the rightful owner of several concepts in Rowling’s work and that she (Rowling) plagiarized her work. But later on, the case was “dismissed with prejudice” and she was fined $50,000 for her "pattern of intentional bad faith conduct." However, in another interview with TIME, Rowling revealed how affected she was by the issue saying “It felt as if some strange woman had come out of nowhere saying she was my children's mother ... It was like a punch in the stomach.”

Moving on, when it comes to book releases, the author had always set a particular date for her work to be published. The problem is, spoiler embargoes had not been evenly tight. In the release of the Deathly Hallows, copies were delivered and contained in high security vaults, as if the book is jewelry worth several billions! Dealers to where the books were delivered were also forced to sign a contract which mandated them not to open the boxes till the official release date. Reports even say, that just to keep the suspense in tact, the publishers printed the books in pitch darkness yet, no substantial details could support such claim.

But here’s what’s true. Analysts revealed that the publishers have spent several millions of dollars to be assured that copies will be taken out of the box in the exact day and time prescribed by the author. But then, “technical” failures caused a copy (Deathly Hallows) to fall in the hands of a 17-year old in the U.S three days before the official release date. They say that Scholastic paid the teenager with a great amount (exact figures were not identified) just to stop him reading the book and continue it only on the day prescribed.

***

The fun never ends as some would say but with the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows last July 21, a period has already been drawn in the story which means Harry-Ron-Hermione is most likely over and done with.

However, more and more enthusiasts began their advocacy of continuing the story through signature campaigns which would be submitted to the author as a plea to create a Wizard University. With only two movies left in the line, Harry Potter is in danger of becoming a figment of history as its predecessors had become. It’s the greatest fear of majority of Harry Potter fans. But let’s not go away with the possibility that the Potter books could have hatched a generation of superb story tellers, far more better than those we now have. Since everyone is considered a good writer at their own disposal, we can say that the possibilities are endless. Perhaps, one of Potter breeds could be the next J. K. Rowling who would soon arrive in the avenues of success and streets of fame (and fortune). It could probably be any one. It could probably be you.

© Harry Potter is a copyright of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury in U.K. and Scholastic Press in U.S.

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