Back when we were kids,we used to play this street sport called "Siyato" wherein you would hit a short stick with a longer one and then count the distance from where you hit the shorter stick to where it landed via the long stick. Before you can count your earnings, the opposing team will try to prevent you from hitting the stick by catching it or by kicking it back to you. As a kid back then, I was quite furious with how the older kids bully us smaller kids by challenging us and then we'd be creamed and floored since our strength never really matched theirs (I mean how can four year old kids match up with circumcised boys in terms of strength). So, furious as I was, I can't do anything except wait--wait for me to grow up that is and then I'll be able to land that stick halfway through the length of the street.
It really is funny remembering such trivial things, vowing something just because I got furious by being bullied over a street game. But the fun part is I was able to live out my childhood by playing as much as I can (to be able to get that record breaking half-street-length distance that I vowed to get). The sad part was, before being cloyed with the sweetness of childhood, I was never able to make that dream distance. Who's to blame? Not me definitely since we moved to a place a year after that where "Siyato" was impossible to play due to so many people passing by (my mom said we might hit them). Add the fact that all of my siyato-ing friends were then gone, gradually, I gave up playing siyato.
And of course, as the years has passed, many changes happened and of course new vows were created, fulfilled, forgotten and on hiatus. Those on hiatus entails a lot of preparation and years of toiling before reaching it. Just like that advertisment of Shell (I think) where this man dreams of getting a car for his short time goal then dreams of getting a BMW for his long time goal. I don't know if that's how exactly how the ad went but you know the drill: short term goals and long term goals.
How in the world does a game of sticks and stones that you hit and count on the ground have anything to do with BMW's and short term and long term goals?
Let me explain it this way:
At the foot of a mountain, three hikers were readying to climb. One was a pallid and thin man, another was an old artist, and the last one was a long time hiker. After the neccessary registrations and preparations, they started to climb the mountain. Along the way, the old artist started to pull out his empty sketchpad and drew things along the way, making the journey quite troublesome for the other two since they'd have to wait for him. The hiker didn't mind but the pallid man always complained at how this is taking them too much time to reach the top. But they couldn't stop the old man from drawing. About eight hours of hiking had passed but they were still halfway through the top. Evening came so they decided to set up camp. The old man, as he laid down his things drew again beside the campfire that the pallid man created. The pallid man snorted at the attitude of the old man, however he just let it slide and helped the hiker to set up their tent. After their dinner, the old man went back to his drawing while the other two went out to find some berries. When they came back, the old man was still drawing near the fire. The pallid man noticed that the fire was dying and thought that if the fire died out, maybe the old man would stop drawing. But the hiker ordered him to fetch more firewood while he attended to rekindling the camp fire. Reluctantly, the pallid man took off to get some more firewood. When he came back, the fire was crackling nicely but his two other companions were nowhere to be found. He noticed a shadow inside the tent and looked inside. He was shushed by the hiker and saw the old man sleeping quietly with his sketchbook wrapped around his arms. With that, they both turned in for the night.
When the pallid man woke up, he saw the bed of the old man empty and the flap of the tent open. He crawled outside and saw again the old man drawing. He noticed that the fire yesternight died out naturally and this old artist didn't even bother gathering the ash. So he gathered the ash by the side of a tree mumbling as he did it. Soon, the hiker woke up and suggested that they have breakfast first before continuing the climb. After breakfast, they continued on.
Near the top, no trails were available and steep climbs were needed. The hiker said to the pallid man to carry the old man while he prepares the rope near the peak to help them climb up. Of course the thin man was furious again but in the end, he conceded. He offered the old artist a piggy back but the hiker whispered to him to carry the old man in front of him. He protested against this profusely but the hiker said that he'll tie a rope around them to secure the old man while the two of them climb the rope he will prepare. Again, he conceded and carried the old man like a child. He checked the rope that was tied around them and waited for the hiker to drop the rope. As soon as the rope was dropped, the pallid man clung to it and pulled the two of them upwards. He was breathing heavily at the weight of two people. He'd like to complain but the one to complain was clinging onto him. With the help of the hiker, the three of them reached the top of the steep climb and was nearing the peak. In about half an hour or so, they reached the peak of the mountain. The hiker and the pallid man breathed the sweet air while the old man sat immediately on a flat stone and drew once more.
"Why'd you want to climb the mountain?" asked the pallid man to the hiker
The hiker looked at him. "Why'd you climb the mountain?" He threw the question back.
The pallid man took another dive into that fresh air, breathing it and filling his lungs with it. "Just to climb it. To see if I can do it with this body."
"Oho! So you think climbing will make you stronger?"
"Yeah! I suppose so." The pallid man turned around to the old artist to ask him why'd he climb the mountain. Although he was quite sure on what the answer was, he couldn't help but ask him. "Hey gramps!" He called out. But instead of looking at a drawing old man, he saw an artist embracing his works, lying on the swaying grass. He went up to the old man and saw that he was smiling.
"Hey gramps." he said while shaking the other. But the old man never replied. The grip on the sketchbook loosened and the sketchbook fell on the green grass. The pallid man took it and opened it to see what the old man had been drawing. To his surprise, the first page was full of scribbles. Not even a shape was distinguishable. The next page was very much the same but it was cleaner than the previous one. The third page had some improvement. He can now see the trees and the leaves. He turned and turned until he saw a page which has a drawing of the campfire. There he saw the fire nearly having a shape and life but nonetheless, not really good to sell. He turned and turned until the last page. There was a drawing of two men by the edge of the mountain looking beyond. He compared it to the one with the campfire and with the first page then he understood. He laid the old man on the grass and placed the sketchbook on the dead man's arms. He went back to the hiker.
"The old man didn't know how to draw, did he?" The hiker said.
"He's practicing while climbing." The pallid man pasued there. "I'll take the old man down to the foot of the mountain."
"You sure you can handle it?"
"Sure. I think I'm stronger now."
Just the other day, as I was sitting on a bus bounded home, I happened to chance hearing on the radio a song that has been written and sang by one of our batchmates. It wasn't just a song that was played on the radio. You know how DJ's asks listeners to vote for the song and it'll be on the top 10 or top 100 or top 4 list? Well, the song's not actually on the list yet but, I heard the DJ said, a few more votes and that song'll be in the charts.
Most of our batchmates hated this guy. Why? Because he's always making an appearance on every show or event that the college has. Not that he was invited but he volunteered (at least that's how the rumor goes). Anyway, there he was hopping from every event to another and I even heard that he had a regular gig in a bar whose name I didn't catch. At any rate, he was always performing, to the annoyance of my batchmates. At some point, I was quite annoyed also, because as spectator, I wouldn't want to hear him again after hearing him perform about two days ago. But that was how it came and went.
As I was sitting on that bus, I went over these thoughts and realized, he's already fulfiling his dream. I mean, he is the one closest than most of us to reaching that long term goal (whatever it is for each and everyone of us). There we were like the opposing team in the game "Siyato", trying to prevent that one man from reaching his goals by blocking him with insults but he never faltered like the old man. He didn't care if he annoyed so many pallid and thin men. He wanted to reach the peak of the mountain and he's almost there. He played too many siyatos that his hands and feet bled and drew on so many sketchbooks so he can continue with his ascent to the peak of the mountain. And I believe that he'd still play more sticks and draw more obscure abstracts.
But like the pallid man in the story, envy first consumed me but eventually, I learned something and metaphorically gained strength. If he can do it, then everyone else can.
(I'm not saying I like his music. I'm saying I respect him for his tenacity and audacity.)
I'd be playing that siyato once more and try to get that half-street-length distance for the record. Only this time, no more sticks and stones. Just a pen and paper.
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