Perfect Moment, Beautiful Bride

Download the song here.

1
A vision of white
It’s you walking down the aisle
As a child I lay in bed
Dreamed of this perfect moment
My beautiful bride
That wonderful smile

2
As you draw closer
I feel my heart beat faster
Such a mesmerizing view
It’s overwhelming, it’s true
That beautiful smile
My wonderful bride

Chorus 1:

Now that you are here
There is nothing that I fear
With the love that you bring
‘ Can do anything
My soul you make it sing
Now that I am here
There is nothing you should fear
With the love that I bring
As long as I live
My all to you I’ll give

Bridge:

It has been granted
Things have fallen into place
And the stars have realigned
Now I’m staring at your face
My beautiful bride
That wonderful smile

Chorus 2

Now that you are here
There is nothing that I fear
With the love that you bring
‘ Can do anything
My soul you make it sing
Now that we are here
There is nothing we should fear
With the love that we have
A gift from above
We can do anything

Now that we are here


Download the song here.

A Trip To Kuala Lumpur (Part I)

From Singapore, By Bus

The Golden Mile Complex in Beach Road, Kallang is the place to buy bus tickets for the 5-6 hour trip to Malaysia. The ground floor of the high-rise commercial and residential building houses several tourists and ticketing agencies. If you take the time to go from one ticketing agency to another, you’d find out that the prices are more or less the same.

As of April 2008, bus and coach tickets range from 30-40 SGD, with the $40 affording the luxuries of a larger leg room, a seat that can be adjusted almost to 180° and a TV monitor that allows you to either play games or watch movies. Of course we chose the most luxurious one, taking the trip was part of Angie’s celebration in passing the Architecture board exam after all. There were six rows of seats excluding the driver’s: three passengers per row, two on the driver’s side and one on the left. My TV monitor wasn’t working, which wasn’t unfortunate because I preferred to doze the night off anyway.

As luck would have it –again, because this was neither the first time nor the second– we got the furthest seats from the driver. With the high barrier in front that houses the monitor, you’d almost feel like you were in a private room. Except for one thing, that is. Behind the flowery curtain that dangles innocently from the ceiling lies the driver’s companion’s private world. This time around, I was expecting to hear intermittent snores coming from behind for the duration of the trip but I was to be happily disappointed.

About 30 minutes after departure, the seats automatically rise to their upright position – undoubtedly the driver’s doing – signaling our arrival at the Woodlands Checkpoint of the Singapore Immigration. The driver makes a cryptic announcement but the word passport unmistakably stands out and when the bus comes to a full stop, everyone gets off the vehicle with their most important piece of document, at least for the time being.

The exit at the Singapore Immigration is usually uneventful and takes only a few minutes depending on the number of people heading off to Malaysia. At the time of our exit, at about 1 a.m., there were only about forty travelers and so were back in the comfort of our seats in less than 10 minutes.

The bus crosses the Johor-Singapore Causeway, over a kilometer long, where the Malaysian checkpoint lies just on the other side. Again, with the driver’s obscure message as cue, the passengers leave the bus, this time with all their belongings in tow in case entry to Malaysia becomes an issue. Needless to say, the bus will not wait indefinitely for all passengers to come back.

Pudaraya To Petronas Twin Towers, By Train

The bus made two stops in the course of our trip. I awoke on both occasions but I was fast asleep even before the vehicle started moving again.

We arrived in Pudaraya, Kuala Lumpur at about 5:30 a.m., almost 5 hours after the bus left Beach Road. People were everywhere: along the pavements, in 24-hour food stalls, by the stairs leading to the lobby of the once tallest building in Malaysia, the Menara Maybank, and even in the nearest McDonald’s where a number of people were taking a nap. Everyone appeared to be waiting for someone or something – for a bus to come or for the sun to come out.

As for us, we spent a few minutes in McDonald’s to have breakfast and to take the chance to chat for a while. Afterwards, we climbed the stairs to the Menara Maybank and then lay down on the marble benches near the ATMs to rest. When the guard came and asked us to leave, we decided to take a stroll on the nearby surroundings.

Except for the obvious Islamic architecture of a few buildings, the place almost looks like Manila: dingy, perennially wet sidewalks; side streets with the unmistakable smell of urine; ubiquitous street food vendors offering local treats. Several hotels, hostels, inns, pension houses and all those places that mean you can stop there for the night are found all around. We found out much later in the day that Petaling Street, the Chinatown of Kuala Lumpur, was also just about a hundred meters away from the terminal.

Getting to the Twin Towers from Pudaraya is simple enough via train. Of course, in terms of speed, nothing beats taking a cab. Unfortunately, just like in some other Asian countries, foreigners are easily taken advantage of -- the taxi drivers insist on a fixed price and refuse to use their meter. This makes you appreciate Singapore, where taxi drivers almost always charge by the meter. (The 8-seater Maxi Cab would sometimes insist on a fixed charge especially during peak hours in tourist spots). In fairness, albeit in a misconstrued notion thereof, the Malaysian cab drivers do the same thing to locals.

The Plaza Rakyat train station in Pudaraya is just behind the bus terminal and a 3-minute easily walk takes you there. In our case, the steady stream of students in uniform striding along the walkway served as a trail to follow.

Getting to the KLCC station, where the Petronas Towers are located, first entails getting to the green line of the Integrated Transit Network of KL. This is accomplished by getting off at Masjid Jamek, a mere one station away from Plaza Rakyat (Pudaraya) and crossing the street to take another 3-minute walk to the ticket counter of the green line.

You can turn this minor inconvenience to your advantage, like we did, by taking pictures of the Masjid Jamek, one of the oldest mosques in Kuala Lumpur that was built on the first Malay burial ground in the city. KLCC is now just 3 stations away and the twin towers is a short walk from there.

Skybridge, Petronas Twin Towers


During our first visit, we had to ask one of the guards for quick directions on how and where to queue for access to the skybridge. On our second time around, we knew exactly where to go. The ticketing counter is located at the concourse level of the Petronas Towers. It’s hard to miss especially during the weekends because people start queuing up as early as 7 a.m. Twice we thought we were early but then there were always people ahead of us by the time we got to the booth.

At about 8 a.m., a staff went around to ensure that the queue was how they wanted it to be, asking only one person per group to stay while the rest waited somewhere else. We were informed that each individual can get up to five (5) tickets, free to choose the time of visit from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. at 15-minute intervals, as long as the slot is not yet filled up. The tickets are free but only the first 1,300 people can be accommodated for the day.

At 8:30 a.m. when the ticket counter opened, as many as two hundred fifty were already lined up. Also by this time, another staff member goes around asking each person what country they’re from and how many tickets they need; he writes these two bits of information on a coupon, which he gives to each group representative for later use.

Once at the counter, the person issuing the ticket asks for the coupon and further inquires what viewing time is preferred. On both visits, I’ve only asked for the earliest available slot. We were lucky enough to be included in the 9 a.m. slot the first time and 9:30 a.m. during the second. Viewers are reminded that they need to be in the ticketing counter 15 minutes before their chosen timeslot.

While waiting, you can stay in the exit room and engage in some fun-filled activities such as solving mind-boggling puzzles, watching a short movie on how the towers were built, learning from a video how the building is made lightning-safe, and taking a look at the surrounding view of the Petronas Towers through a telescope. It took me some time to solve one particular puzzle. I was in the middle of working on the next one when the infallible signal was given that it was time to see what we’ve came there for.

At precisely 15 minutes before each viewing slot, an announcement is made through the public address system that the next set of viewers can now enter. Upon entry, we were handed 3D glasses and escorted to a small viewing room to watch a 5-minute primer about the Petronas towers and the company behind the magnificent structures (PETRONAS: Petrolian Nasional Berhad).

After viewing the short video clip, we were guided to a counter where all our baggage and personal items were scanned by the security. Food, drinks and other items were asked to be left behind and stored in the safety of their lockers. I had to leave my Swiss Army knife and was given a tag that I used to claim it back afterwards.

Child and adult, men and women, black, white and brown, we were taken to the 41st level, where the skybridge is accessible, via a high speed double-decker elevator that soared at about one story per second. The guide proceeded to give a 1-minute spiel about the twin towers, mentioning that Tower 1 was built by the South Korean multinational Samsung Engineering & Construction and Tower 2 by Hazama Corporation of Japan and that the skybridge was actually a 2-story bridge but the upper story is not made accessible to the general public. As we listened to some other quick facts about the twin towers, the visitors from the previous slot make their way out.


Finally, we were given about 10 minutes to take pictures and enjoy the spectacular view 170 meters above the ground, from the skybridge of the tallest twin towers in the world!

Panata, Penitensiya And Swearing On The Cross

During the Lenten season, the passion of Christ is depicted by some Filipinos in a sadistic fashion but not for no reason. Most do this for the atonement of their sins or penitence (penitensiya in Filipino), as if Christ’s sacrifice wasn’t sufficient. Some have sworn – a sort of sacred pledge – to do this as an act of thanksgiving or in gratitude for a miracle that happened once upon a time in their lives. In the Filipino vernacular, this type of pledge is called a panata. Others start off in petition for something really big such as the healing of an ill loved one and when their prayers are answered, they end off passing the pledge to the their next generations, making it a family tradition. Getting crucified is an extreme example of a panata.

With red being the motif, the entire event is local color at its finest. Everyone is dressed to the occasion from the person playing Jesus (suitably called Kristo) to the Roman soldiers, and though their number doesn’t quite reach a hundred, a centurion is among them. They’re not just dressed as if in a costume party though, they take their roles quite seriously. It starts off with the soldiers beating the penitents’ backs with a piece of wood beaded by broken glass, until blood is drawn. The Kristo then carries the cross along the streets and heads towards Calvary (aptly coined, the Filipino term for heavy burden is kalbaryo). The flagellants, with either crowns of thorns on their heads or red hoods over them, join the procession, whipping their backs with steel chains, or bamboos, or some other improvised torture devices designed to inflict pain, tear flesh and create permanent scars. It is not uncommon for blood to get splattered all over and if the scourger is not the flagellant himself, even he is not spared from the gruesome sprays of red.

The climax and naturally the most shocking part is the nailing of the believer to the wooden cross. Several pieces of rope or strips of clothing are used to tie the Kristo by the wrists, arms and legs and then the five or six-inch nails, previously sterilized by soaking in boiling water or alcohol, are driven by hammer through the hands and feet.

It’s not only men who are brave, faithful, zealous or crazy enough to do this. There are a handful of women who have also made the strange ritual their own. One female claims she has been getting crucified annually for over fifteen years. Whatever their gender, the Kristos are wise enough to opt to stay on the cross for a few minutes or hours instead of days.

The Catholic Church does not encourage this activity although self-inflicted pain as a form of purging one’s sin is historically present in the faith. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the government because the annual act has become a tourist attraction. They only give reminders on the dangers of using unsterilized nails or flagellants and persuade the penitents to go for tetanus shots before taking part in the yearly tradition.

This Good Friday 2008, thousands of local and foreign tourists flocked to Pampanga to witness the event. At some point, the crowd got a little too excited, a little too rowdy, and pushed their way nearer towards the erected crucifixes.

One of those crucified, a woman, annoyed and probably worried, shouted to the crowd, “P__ I____ niyo! Wag kayong magtulakan.” (Literally translated: “Your mothers are whores! Don’t push one another.” Perhaps this one’s a more appropriate translation: “You sons of bitches! Stop pushing!”)

One of the photographers present, unable to suppress his anger shouted back, “P___ I____ mo rin!” (“Your mother’s a whore too!”).

In this truly colorful event, swearing on the cross takes a whole new meaning.

Next To Godliness

Strange are the practices that mean cleanliness to others. Stranger still are the habits some have not picked up for the sake of cleanliness.


Brushing after meals

In my previous company, two of my colleagues had a very interesting conversation. I remember only a part of it but it’s enough to get the point across. This took place in the pantry after lunch, around 1 p.m.

“Hey Jio, why are you brushing your teeth here?”, asked Janice, who usually asks all sorts of questions.

“It’s the sink, where else should I be brushing my teeth?”, Jio replied with a puzzled tone and then a jovial laugh.

Janice blabbered away while walking out the door. It was typical of her to do that.

What’s so strange or interesting about this exchange of words?

First, if you’re not from a place where you’re used to seeing people brush their teeth after lunch, Jio’s habit might be a little odd for you. I recall a former colleague greeting me “Good morning!” every time he saw me brushing my teeth in the toilet. I come from a place where the odd one out is the one whose breath fails to smell of toothpaste or mouthwash at the 2 p.m. meeting. It’s not only a major turn-off but it’s also taken as a sign of poor hygiene.

Second, if you’re used to seeing officemates perform this ritual religiously, you might have the same question as Jio’s running in your head right now. Where is one supposed to brush his teeth but in the sink anyway?

I only know what Janice was trying to say when she poked Jio with her question because of my own experience. Otherwise, I wouldn’t get her. At home, my mother never hid her disgust whenever she caught us spitting on the kitchen sink, brushing our teeth included. I guess I have been to too many of my friends’ houses to notice that the same rule applies to some of them.

For a lot of families, at least from where I come from, there is a great distinction between the sink in the kitchen and the bathroom. Only dishes, fruits and vegetables can be washed in the kitchen sink, everything else had to be washed in the bathroom or the laundry area.

Washing dishes

When we were being tasked to wash dishes when we were young, it was a no-no for me and my brothers to put the dishes on the sink after soaping them; that was what the counter top beside was for. My mom had another important rule, the sponge (or cloth) used to soap the dishes can’t be used for any other purpose such as wiping the tiles dry or scrubbing the sink. In time, I came up with my own set of rules, the most important one being “All the dishes had to be scrubbed squeaky clean.”

If we dwell on water conservation for just a minute, using a basin when rinsing the dishes is not such a bad idea. My friend Clover got the whole concept wrong. His advice, “Don’t use the water in the basin you’ve already used to rinse the other dishes because it’s like washing them with all the dirt from the previous ones.”, fails to take into consideration the following points:

• the dishes are scrubbed and pre-rinsed before getting soaped to get rid of grease and grime


• the recycled water from the basin is used to wash off the suds


• the final rinse will always make use of running water from the faucet.

I never forgot the answer to my teacher’s question designed to test who in class were helping with the household chores,

“What’s the correct order of soaping or rinsing dishes:
a) spoons and forks, cups, plates
b) cups, spoons and forks, plates
c) plates, spoons and forks, cups?”

If you don’t know the correct answer, please believe me when I tell you that there is and that it’s perfectly logical. (There are reasons why manholes are better off as circular in shape too; think about it.) Don’t be too hard on yourself if you haven’t been doing this task. By the way, I didn’t give the teacher the correct answer.

Eating with hands


A friend once said to me that the best way to enjoy food is to use one’s hands to eat. I won’t disagree.

Back in the Philippines, this is very common especially in the provinces. I even remember TV footages of the president sharing a meal with the common folks where utensils except for drinking cups were unnecessary. I won’t dwell on the political side of things and just continue imagining the festive setting. Heaps of rice and generous servings of several viands and fruits were served buffet style on overlapping banana leaves, which were spread across a chain of wide wooden tables. The food was arranged neatly and strategically at the center part of the now grand table so that the participants can sit on benches found on either side and make use of the banana leaves as plate.

It goes without saying that washing one’s hands before and after eating is a must. There is proof (more than one actually) however, that suggest the second part is often times forgotten. Greasy phones, pens, keyboards and mice are on top of the list. If you had a sharp nose like mine, you’d smell the trace of evidence when making a call to confirm your 2 p.m. meeting.

Taking a bath in the morning


I met Nica in 2006 and one of her stories that retained in my head was how her daughter was banned from coming to school with wet hair. It wasn’t because she wagged it like a dog nor is it because she caused some sort of inconvenience to anyone; she was simply out of place. Nica was allowed to discuss the issue with at least one school official and their meeting yielded a question she didn’t know how to answer: “Why have her daughter take a bath in the morning when she’s already taken a bath before going to bed?”

The question stumped her not because she didn’t have a good answer but because a realization suddenly hit her. But then again several questions raced through her own mind before she could open her mouth to answer the original question.

I can only name a country where taking a shower before going to school or the office is akin to brushing one’s teeth in the morning, where this practice is a norm. I cannot argue that this is how it should be. However, I don’t see anything wrong with it especially if water shortage was not a problem or if the country only has two seasons and the average temperature was higher than 25°C.

Nica and her daughter settled for waking up an hour earlier. I thought using a hair blower was a viable option as well.

Food centers


I find it hard to believe that some things I consider common sense need to be taught. For instance, when a waiter brings your soup, you wouldn’t expect to see his thumb dipped inside to provide additional flavor, right? What about when serving drinks and putting cups on the tray? Being able to hold several at once may seem like a neat trick but I certainly don’t appreciate it if the fingers go into the cup and touch the ice. Same goes for handing off straws, spoons and forks; shouldn’t the food server know by instinct that he shouldn’t touching the parts that go into the mouth?

In one food courts I’ve been, I noticed one server use a plastic glove while peeling and slicing the fruits I ordered only to see her not take it off when she took my money and got change from the counter. Just when I thought she’d make my day…

Call me finicky but I believe good service means not taking such things for granted.

Deodorants

Just like sunscreens, deodorants were invented for a reason. I have to admit I wasn’t able to appreciate the value of my elementary teacher telling us to start using deodorants during puberty. Now I can only wish that the advice was given by concerned teachers all over the world.

Now in the Digital Era where professionals bring laptops, iPods, BlackBerrys and other hi-tech gadgets to the office, I find it hard to believe that some of us have not yet discovered deodorants.

Paul and I were in the pantry area one day, the only place where we could have access to broadband Internet and therefore check our emails. There was this one particular man who came between us and plugged his laptop in the available port. We couldn’t stop from twitching our noses and turning our heads away in agony. Good thing the guy left after a couple of minutes. Paul was shaking his head in disbelief while I couldn’t stop myself from muttering, “What a very powerful man.”

Gravy, Ketchup, Chili Sauce And Curry

“Since when did KFC have gravy!?”, interjected Chung Mon as I was merely starting to tell him about my experience in the KFC-White Sands branch in Pasir Ris.

We were contemplating on where we should try having lunch next when he mentioned KFC. I could see from the look on his face that it was meant to be a rhetorical question so I didn’t bother to respond.



On that day, I ordered a few pieces of chicken. I immediately knew that something wasn’t right when the service crew who took my order seemed a bit surprised when I requested for gravy. I had to hide my initial dismay when I looked into the bag and found out there was only chili sauce. Now I felt tremendous pressure to maintain a poker face. Before I knew it, I got referred to the manager on duty.

After checking the contents of what looked to me like a small, stainless refrigerator, the manager simply said to me, “Sorry, we have no more gravy on stock.”

For a second or two, I could not believe what I just heard. I managed to say "Thank you." before leaving.

Incidentally, part of the á la carte we were having for lunch was a pair of chicken wings. I asked for ketchup from the waitress. She nodded her head and left. Just when I thought she had forgotten about my request, she came back to our table and spoke to Chung Mon in Mandarin. I could sense she was asking something about the ketchup. About a minute later, much to my delight, she came back with a bottle of tomato ketchup.

“Seems like I have to honor of being first.”, I said to Chung Mon, noticing that the bottle looked new and was full to the brim.

“Yes, not too many ask for ketchup here.”, came Chung Mon’s reply.

“I guess most of them go for chili sauce.”, I replied back.

“Yes, that’s right.”, was Chung Mon’s answer.

The KFC story didn’t end with the gravy (or without the gravy), the others who partook of the meal shared my frustration over the taste of the chicken. I vowed never to try KFC in that branch again.

If you grew up knowing that KFC chicken goes well with gravy, you’d share my frustration at its absence. In the same way, if you’ve had chili sauce with KFC chicken all your life, it would have been strange to find someone asking for gravy to go with it.



In the Philippines, the sales of the world-famous franchise probably spiked up when they began offering additional gravy free of charge. They would have stopped it many years ago if it didn’t. I remember people coming back to the counter for additional gravy. I was always one of those who would pour gravy on his rice and ask for more. Such behavior became too common that many branches began assigning one of the crew members to go around and offer gravy to their customers. They came holding a stainless thermos filled with the hot, brown and creamy delight. At a time when bottomless and all-you-can became buzzwords associated with food and drink, the endless supply of gravy was a big hit. Soon, other fast food chains followed suit.

(to be continued...)

Clerihews

Wikipedia defines a Clerihew as a very specific kind of short humorous verse, typically with the following properties:

  * It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; but it is hardly ever satirical, abusive or obscene
  * It has four lines of irregular length (for comic effect)
  * The first line consists solely (or almost solely) of a well-known person's name.

Here are a few I wrote:

1. The thing about Chippy
Is that he always seems happy
He loves to smash balls
While we walk the halls

2. Ronald Brother Boombey
Many ways he has to make his day
He'll beat you at poker
At badminton, he's the commissioner

3. Odie is a good diver
And is great as a programmer
Mangas he loves to read
What completes his day is an Anime feed

4. Paul is quite quiet
Oh, but he can sing a duet
A computer for a brain
He likes the south where there's rain

The G-PASS Ordeal

A few months ago, my friend Chippy introduced me to G-PASS -- supposedly a more convenient way to pay MRT fares as opposed to buying tickets. Although I’m no longer a frequent MRT commuter, I was thrilled with the prospect of not having to worry about the endless queue for tickets when I needed to travel by train. After all, the prepaid tickets sold by the MRT expired after a few months taking whatever credits were left with it.

My first few tries with G-PASS were successful; I was happy with Globe’s seemingly wonderful product. The company I worked for envisioned something very similar a few years back and although we were not the ones who were able to launch such a product, I was happy to see it finally happen as it does makes life a little bit easier for the commuters out there. But is it a reliable service?

I had to attend a workshop in Makati last November 8-10 and the MRT was still the best way to get there from Quezon City. I tapped my G-PASS on the sensor but I didn’t hear the usual beep and I couldn’t get through. I tried tapping again on the other available turnstile but got the same results. I saw there was an extra sensor near the emergency gate so I told the guard about my problem and inquired if they could have my G-PASS checked. He said he "knew nothing about it and that G-PASS wasn’t their service". I couldn’t let this ruin my day so I followed the guard’s instructions to just buy a ticket and proceeded to join the queue. When I got ahead of the line, I threw the same set of questions to the teller. She threw back the same set of replies I received from the guard earlier. After buying a ticket and finally getting through, the guard’s closing remarks were “The sensor is defective. G-PASS should’ve put a sign there to indicate that”.

I got off at the Buendia station. I was worried about leaving my G-PASS with an open open transaction that would cost me a whole lot more than the necessary fare so I tapped on the sensor hoping that this would register an exit if my earlier entry attempt was recorded as successful. The turnstile didn’t allow me through so I had to use my ticket. I politely asked the guard if they could check my G-PASS credits after recounting my experience in the Quezon Ave. station. This time I wasn’t so surprised with the answer he gave.

I felt a bit of hope when I saw that the Globe G-PASS store in this station was already open. I told the guy behind the counter about my whole ordeal and asked if he could check my chip. He confirmed my earlier fear about paying a whole lot more if the transaction was left open. Apparently, the sensor in Quezon Ave. was working because the chip registered that I went through that station. I was relieved to find out I was able to avoid paying more but I still felt bad about the whole thing because I ended up paying double!

My friend Chippy encountered the same problem on several occasions. He said the guards and tellers kept telling him that they, the MRT, didn’t even earn anything from the use of G-PASS . He felt obliged to tell them that the opposite was true. There was only a single occasion when he was glad the guards at the Magallanes station knew what they had to do. Techno-stress is what Chippy prefers to label his whole experience.

I hope Globe Telecom and the MRT Management get their act together. I hope that the next time the same thing happens to me, the guards would know exactly how to proceed. I also hope that no G-PASS store would ever run out of credits to sell like what I once encountered in the Ayala station.

Again and again, the MRT employees talked about G-PASS as some third party they had nothing to do with. It appeared to me that they looked at G-PASS as something that merely existed to take away part of their revenues and possibly add to their everyday troubles. Why couldn’t they put the defective sign themselves? Why do they not wonder what the extra sensor near the emergency exit is for? Why weren’t they thoroughly briefed about the protocol in such cases?

Chippy says, " G-PASS works 90% of the time, which, isn’t really great." I have to agree with him.

Diesel Please!?!

Saw this at a Petron gasoline station along EDSA, Mandaluyong City, Philippines. Now I'm glad my mobile phones have built-in cameras. :)

Lloyd's Hate for Math - The Aftermath

It was just another boring one-hour lecture for Lloyd. For him, everything taught in this subject was of no certain relevance to his life. He hated Mr. Ines, his teacher. He hated his classmates who excelled in his class. Most of all, he hated this particular subject--Math!

For now, he was thankful that the class was over and that he had survived another day of tedious tasks. He packed all his belongings absent-mindedly as he said good-bye to a few classmates. He was homeward bound in an instant.

He trudged along his usual path, seeing the same things and the same people, as if today were no different from yesterday. He began to cross the national highway after which he would take a 10-minute jeepney ride and then another 5-minute tricycle ride before he finally got home. This was his usual routine and he somehow found the monotony amusing.

Lloyd was already in the middle of the road and for some reason, he forgot to look towards his right. He took two more steps before finally realizing this but it was too late for him to react -- a speeding car headed straight towards him.

______________________________


Lloyd opened his eyes and realized that he must have been unconscious for some time. Seeing clouds everywhere he looked, he found his surroundings very unfamiliar. He took a few steps forward and saw something black and shiny far up ahead. Soon enough, he found himself in front of a huge, black, pearly gate, which appeared to be guarded by an old, bearded man wearing an oversized white robe. The man motioned for him to come closer; Lloyd obligingly followed.

The old man broke their silence first.

"I am Peter, the gatekeeper of Heaven. I shall determine if you will be allowed to enter or not."

To this the boy replied, "Uh... What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I shall ask you three questions. If you are able to answer all of them, you shall be allowed to enter heaven outright. Make one mistake and you shall be sent to purgatory. Not being able to answer all these questions means you will be sent to hell.", the old man answered.

"But I want to go back to earth and be with my loved ones.", Lloyd said.

"Although you are quite foolish for not wanting to enter Heaven but wishing to go back to earth instead, I shall give you that chance. You must answer at least two of my questions so you will be allowed to go back to earth!", the gatekeeper exclaimed.

The boy thought for a moment before finally speaking.

"All right, I’m ready."

The old man did not waste any time.

"In a year's time, how many days do you pray?", Peter asked.

"That's easy, I pray everyday! That's 365 and 1/4 days in a year!", Lloyd exclaimed.

Lloyd began to think. He prayed before and after going to bed, before and after eating meals. How could he possibly determine the exact number of minutes he prayed in a day, much less in a year?

"It’s a very difficult question. No person could possibly answer that!", the boy shouted.

"Ok then let me help you.", a new voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Lloyd was surprised to see an angel suddenly appear beside him.

"I am Anthony, your guardian angel.", the new voice said.

"If you pray an average of 30 minutes a day, what would be the total number of minutes you prayed in a year?", the angel continued.

The boy began to think and think but nothing came out of his mouth.

Again the angel tried to help: "There are 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day and 365 days in a year."

This time, Lloyd tried to concentrate very hard but much to his dismay, he could not come up with the answer.

"I’m sorry I don’t know the answer.", he finally admitted.

The next two questions were not any easier. But to each of this, the angel provided him with clues. All the necessary data were given to him, it was simply a matter of computation. No matter how much Lloyd thought about the answer, he could not come up with anything.

"Because you were not able to answer any of my questions, you shall be sent to hell!", the gatekeeper stated.

Lloyd cried his heart out, begged, begged more, and begged again, that he be sent anywhere except hell. He began to realize that maybe if he paid more attention to his teacher, he would have been able to answer the old man’s questions.

A mixture of fright and relief was felt by the boy when Peter finally said, "Alright. I shall give you another chance. But make sure that the next time you find yourself standing in front me, you will be able to answer my questions..."

With that, the boy became unconscious. He later found himself in a hospital bed with her mother staring at her while tears flowed out from her eyes.

______________________________

It was just another exciting day for Lloyd. For him everything that transpired was certainly relevant to his life. He loved his teachers. He loved his classmates and helped those who fell behind in their subjects. Most of all, he loved his subject--Math!

With less than a month before graduation day, Lloyd felt fulfilled enjoying the last of his high school life. He had already passed several entrance examinations to some of the finest universities in the country. It was only a matter of choosing what he felt suited him. He has planned on taking up BS Math after realizing how important the subject was in his life. He wanted to make Math his life! After all, Math might save him when the time comes.