Saturday, November 27, 2004

Repentant Muslim

coming home
to a younger brother
ah, the taste of red wine


This haiku, which I wrote months ago, has become more relevant to me recently.

In a forum at Miriam College held on November 20, the parish priest of Pikit, Cotabato, a war-torn community in Mindanao, spoke of reconciliation. He said that reconciliation has four elements: truth, repentance, forgiveness, and justice. During the discussion, I asked a few questions, including one which I think he missed to answer: what is the Muslim concept of repentance?

Almost a week later, a teacher from the college asked me through cellphone: “Do Muslims drink red wine?” She said that she wants to give somebody, who happens to be a Muslim, a bottle of red wine for a token.

Because I didn’t know the answer myself, I texted four Muslim friends and asked that question. The first to reply was a male Muslim professional from Iligan City in Mindanao. He said “Some do”, and he does, too, during occasion. The second one, an alim or a religious leader in Lanao del Sur, not far from Iligan City, also said “yes”, but I remember it was in the context of red wine as a medicinal drink.

I concluded therefore that Muslims drink red wine. But I received a third reply from a Muslim lady, who is also a professional and residing in Metro Manila. She said “No. Muslims are prohibited from taking alcoholic drinks.” And she ended her text with a wonderful blessing. Puzzled, I asked: “But two said yes. How’s that?” And she replied back,"Their answers are lax and untheological.”

The fourth and last response was from a male Muslim friend, a public school teacher who resides in Kauswagan, another war-affected town in Mindanao, not far from Iligan City also. This man, whom I have not met for quite a long time but who is still very close to me like a brother, said: “No. Muslims are not supposed to drink alcohol, including beer.”

Very much surprised by his answer, and recalling our happy hours in some bars and karaoke down south, I texted back: “What?? but you drink beer a lot!”

He answered: “That was past. During those times, I was living more as a non-Muslim, enjoying a worldly life. Now, I want to spend the rest of my life as a Muslim.”

Okay. Back to work...But I’m not fully satisfied. I texted him again and asked: “What made you change?”

He said: “We are getting old. In our journey, we must have something to bring with us and give to our Creator.”



Tuesday, November 02, 2004

To write a tanka

To write a tanka
under a tamarind tree,
leaves falling on me--
for this alone I would go
back to Santa Lucia.


It seems that I'm hooked on writing tanka since I joined an e-group of tanka poets, which is a very active group. In contrast with haiku, tanka allows for an explicit expression of emotion. On All Saints'Day, all I did was to surf the internet for tankas.

The poem above, which is my tenth tanka, is an attempt to write tanka in the traditional 5-7-5-7-7 form. Not just to follow the rule, but because of the beautiful, musical rhythm it evokes. Santa Lucia, by the way, is a (still) rustic coastal town, north of the Philippines. We have our ancestral home there, at the back of which is an old tamarind tree where I sit every sunrise or sunset, to view the ricefields, the distant mountain slopes, the passing vehicles in the distant highway, and the dome of an old church. It's been a long time since my last visit there. The house is practically abandoned.

My interest in writing tanka according to its traditional form was sparked by a "discovery" of the website http://www.japanpoem.com which offers a greeting card service, where each card features a tanka by a japanese poet of choice. The poetry there are excellent!




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