I looked out of the window and saw darkness. February’s nearly done and I expect longer daylights from now on. But I can hear the rumbling sound of thunder. It might rain but it may not. The wind is cool but the temperature this morning was very hot. I want rain to pour but that would leave me laying in bed for too long.
I walked a few kilometers this afternoon. I saw the places I frequented when I was young. The lion statue that I loved is nowhere to be found. The playground where I played alone as my grandma looked after me is also gone. The streetlights are new with green technology and brighter than the mercury bulbs before. That street is totally different than how I remembered it 20 years ago. I miss the feeling of mirth, the feeling of carelessness. I miss the episodes of fun, the moments of laughter, as I slide down with grandma trying to catch me below, calling me to try the monkey bars.
While I continued walking I remembered what I saw last week. A statue of a local hero was erected and people could now imagine him after many decades of just imagining how he would look like. But he is dwarfed by buildings around him, establishments that he might not believe to be existing in the place he defended with his life. He might have wondered why he was there, in the middle of a commercial mishmash, him who might never even have tasted a meal like that restaurant near his statue.
But there are no trees in sight. No tall grasses, no crazy winds. I remember passing by this area in the past, riding the jeepney with my face being blown by the purest of all winds. Now, not even a gentle breeze can be found. I was even sweating while I was there. But I only sweat because I feel the humidity all around not me. Unlike those industrious men and women serving in the establishments near the hero’s statue, working with all their might, all for the wages that they will earn maybe in a few days or more.
I looked up to the sky and saw that it was clear. Where were the thunder roars coming from? Was I imagining them all along? No, I hear them again, but there are no signs that it will rain. Maybe the rain will come tomorrow. Maybe it will never come. But why must everything change?