Nocturnal jungle
Have you ever wanted something so much you were willing to shed blood just for a chance? Have you ever loved something so much you were willing to sacrifice your heart just for a shred of hope? Have you ever shouted to the heavens, tears flowing down your face, begging for a strand of light to comfort you through the night?
I have. The city noise, each clangorous vibration, is oh so familiar. Surrounded by all these sounds, I hear the sweet melody of the world. I find the rhythm of the universe. I find my inner peace.
Holding my guitar, I stare at the world from my street corner, watching the night unfold. Slowly but surely, the night’s touch transforms the city into a nocturnal jungle. Stars slowly fade in, twinkling independently as the darkness devours the sky. I feel the vibe of the night life pulsating through the neon lights, and the pungent and powerful smell of dreams comes to life.
I am a creature of the night. I see the night, I feel and breathe it. The night provides shelter for wandering souls like me. I go wherever my guitar takes me, and the darkness serves as a blanket comforting my broken heart. In this insane and unforgiving world, all I have is the night, my guitar, and music. I walk from street to street, drawn to the city lights. I am moved by the passion that gives me the will to persevere, hoping my simple melodies will find its way to your ear.
Yet I grow weary of these vibrant yet painful nights. All I wish for is a chance for my music to make it to the airwaves and maybe find its way to your appreciation. Yet the dejection of how long I have been waiting and all the chances I have lost drags me down. I am losing hope. Will I ever savor the sweet taste of success? Or will I always be stuck in the shell of an aging man, lost in a vast world, waiting for a chance that may never come?
I hope my music will carry me away from this cardboard bed and bring me where I can truly be fulfilled and in happy matrimony with my music.
I strum my guitar as if I were caressing a wife. I see the scratches, marks, discolorations, and cracks on the wood, proof of the joys and pains of being a street musician. Each fine line and detail tell stories of what we have experienced. Its tune sounds old yet evergreen, like wine developing flavor as it ages. We have a connection, “Memories” and me. This guitar has been my love since I heard her first chords.
With the darkness blooming and the night majestic, I begin to sing: “Habang may buhay/ habang may buhay/ hanggang ang dugo ko ay dumadaloy/ sa yo lamang iaalay…”
I feel emotion surging through my veins as I continue to sing this song. Beads of tears run down my chin as I fall into sweet surrender with the melody. The song strikes me with each chord as its message connects loud and clear. I am not losing hope no matter what obstacle comes my way.
Coins begin to drop into my small tin can in unison with the applause of the people around me. I say thank you for the spare change they hand down, with the hope of change they give. I continue to play my guitar and sing with all my heart until the darkness begins to fade. “Habang may buhay/ habang may buhay/ sa yo ibibigay…”
I ponder on these thoughts as I fall into a deep contemplation. I know that the majesty of the night sky has been comforting, that the darkness of the evening has been nostalgic, that the twinkling of the stars has been inspiring. I have but built my home under the canopy of the night, but even after all we’ve been through, I still have to leave her for the gleaming light of the next day. I will always cherish the time spent under the moonlight, dwelling in its mystical domain. But I know that after it all, I must still hold my breath, hold on tight, prepare for the ride, and face the hope of the rising sun.
In this nocturnal jungle of Cubao, as long as there’s life, there’s hope.
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Julian Miguel Bondoc Alquinto, 18, is a Grade 11 student at UST Senior High.
