Saturday, August 27, 2005
in order to take control of our lives and accomplish something of lasting value, sooner or later we need to learn to believe. we don't need to shift our responsibilities onto the shoulder of some edified spiritual superman, or sit around and wait for fate to come knocking at the door. we simply need to believe in the power that's within us, and use it. when we do that, and stop imitating others and competing against them, things begin to work for us....
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Most people would rather go to work using their cars, no matter how bad the traffic is, take a cab, or hitch a ride with somebody else. I will not pretend that I would rather have any of the three options stated above than ride the trains to work. Besides the fact that trains travel faster than cars (because there is no such thing as a bad train traffic unless a train security guard decides to make the railways his final resting place), there really is nothing grand about them. They are uncomfortable to ride in (the trains in the Philippines, I mean). More often than not, they are jam-packed with people who always seem to be in a hurry. They push to get in the trains. They push to get out. Seemingly, the train is an endless pushing. No pulling.
But everyday, I witnessed, while I wait for the right train to come, little heroes are born. These are the people who refused to join the bandwagon. They do not push. Instead, they give way to those who are in a hurry (not that they are not themselves). These are the people who give up their seemingly comfortable place at one of the train’s "benches" so that a lady could sit (unfortunately for guys, seats are only being offered to ladies – to the young and the very old). These are the people who, inside the train cabins, turn their backs on you so that when the train suddenly stops, you don’t end up accidentally hugging them or worse. And when the train stops at a particular station, these are the people who willingly get out of the train so that people trapped in the labyrinth inside can successfully get out and get on with their lives.
Inside, amidst the mixture of different scents that ends up smelling sour, is a special meeting of persons. No verbal conversations happen. Rather, the heart speaks. And this time around, non-verbal movements are way more powerful than words.
To be a successful train-rider, you have to be observant of the things and the people around you. When you’re hugging most of the pole (for holding on when the train stops), you have to know when you should (to give way to those who also need something to hold on to when the train stops) and should not (for your own safety) move. You should also know where exactly to move. Will you move to your right where a bunch of rather scary looking guys are being stationed to? Or will you move to your left where majority of the crowd are women? Or will you stay where you are and let them make their own moves to accommodate you?
Although riding trains is a bother for most people, I see it now as an art (most probably because I don’t have much of a choice, really. Since I’m forced to ride it everyday, I would rather see it as an art than as a bother). It’s art because you look at common things from a different point of view – you interpret "normal" behavior and see the abnormality in it.
TO BE CONTINUED…
But everyday, I witnessed, while I wait for the right train to come, little heroes are born. These are the people who refused to join the bandwagon. They do not push. Instead, they give way to those who are in a hurry (not that they are not themselves). These are the people who give up their seemingly comfortable place at one of the train’s "benches" so that a lady could sit (unfortunately for guys, seats are only being offered to ladies – to the young and the very old). These are the people who, inside the train cabins, turn their backs on you so that when the train suddenly stops, you don’t end up accidentally hugging them or worse. And when the train stops at a particular station, these are the people who willingly get out of the train so that people trapped in the labyrinth inside can successfully get out and get on with their lives.
Inside, amidst the mixture of different scents that ends up smelling sour, is a special meeting of persons. No verbal conversations happen. Rather, the heart speaks. And this time around, non-verbal movements are way more powerful than words.
To be a successful train-rider, you have to be observant of the things and the people around you. When you’re hugging most of the pole (for holding on when the train stops), you have to know when you should (to give way to those who also need something to hold on to when the train stops) and should not (for your own safety) move. You should also know where exactly to move. Will you move to your right where a bunch of rather scary looking guys are being stationed to? Or will you move to your left where majority of the crowd are women? Or will you stay where you are and let them make their own moves to accommodate you?
Although riding trains is a bother for most people, I see it now as an art (most probably because I don’t have much of a choice, really. Since I’m forced to ride it everyday, I would rather see it as an art than as a bother). It’s art because you look at common things from a different point of view – you interpret "normal" behavior and see the abnormality in it.
TO BE CONTINUED…
