My first dose of Happy Mondays

I am a writer, at least I'd like to consider myself as one. I'm not sure if I could be called a journalist because I have yet to write news. But as said in dictionary.com: >

 Writer (Noun) a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., esp. as an occupation of profession; an author or journalist.

  So I could possibly be a journalist, or not.      When I was still in high school I used to write poems and short stories, I never got the chance to share it to the public though due perhaps to my lack of confidence. After high school I stopped writing poetry, my writing and basically my interest became slanted towards news, features and academic writing which is what exactly my course demands. For the longest time, I thought that whatever flair I used to have for poetry has long died along with my obsession for gummy bears. But lo and behold due to the coercion, NO ,  insistence of my editor in chief Ms. Andrea Duerme, I had my first dose of Happy Mondays( March1, 2010) and I was lucky enough to celebrate with them their 3rd year of putting   poetry reading on stage.              

  

Not another Manic Monday 

Woke up that particular Monday feeling ecstatic about something, I know a part of it should be blamed to Happy Mondays. You might be interested to know that I've never been to a poetry reading, like EVER. Simply because I don't think I'm a hardcore poet, perhaps intimidation is my concern. And not being a poet means I don't think the same way as they do, and it would be frustrating to just sit there, hear whatever they're saying but hardly understand anything.  

We set our foot at Mag:net Katipunan around 8 o'clock in the evening, I think we’re too early for only a handful of people are watching the slideshow projected on the white screen. Though I've been forewarned, I found the place a bit too small to gather the great minds of Philippine Literature. Oh well, never judge the greatness of something just by its mere size I recalled an intellectual used to tell me. Before having poetry overload I decided to fill myself up with sisig carbonara and lemon grass iced tea, and man that meal turned my world upside down. To date, that's THE BEST carbonara i've had, other than Happy Mondays i've another reason to go to Mag:net. :)

Minds of the same level, flock together    When the area began to be washed with people, I've noticed two tables behind where I was seated a group that I would peg as "unfitting and loud oldies not goodies" who're causing intolerable noise which I've been planning to shush any minute. Good thing I didn't make the move yet, cause here goes my editor telling me "Do you see that table?(pointing to the loud oldies) Those are THE pillars of Philippine Literature, multiple Palanca awardees and National Artists." So okay, I was the one who has to adjust to their humdrum cause they have a say and I'm relatively new there so might as well just zip it. 

The group of oldies I was talking about :p

Little trivia about me: there are instances when I think the way most Filipinos do, stereotypical. And this is a good example.

So all this time I thought life ends when you hit your 60s. You tend to lose interest with other people instead you prefer to stay at home, for guys to smoke tobacco for women to knit covers for every flat surface at home. But when you see these guys chatting animatedly about what  seems to me as 'nonsense oldies talk,' mindless of the young ones surrounding them who can't help but feel as amazed as I was, you'll think otherwise. A part of me that time wished I had a national artist or if its too much to ask, at least a palanca awardee for a grandpa, that would just be triply awesome. Then I thought, it would put too much pressure on my shoulder to be a good writer, which I admit I'm not, when the same blood of a highly acclaimed person runs in me.

Art in all forms

         Joel Toledo on stage

The program started a few minutes before 9:00 in the evening. Some artsy dude who I presumed to be the host went up the stage explaining that that night was the 72th installment of Happy Mondays. He did his share of acknowledging the presence of some VIPs at the back and then the show began.

Of course, there’s poetry reading. Then there’s more: music, debate, comedy, narration and balagtasan. The feeling is intoxicating, in a good way. You can feel all the passion that comes with every word they utter, art in every poem they read, talent in every song they sang and a sense of liberation each time they descend the stage. Emotions I feel I am alien to.

I must say, it takes quite of heap of effort to organize such convergence of the brightest; the up and comings and the apprentices of literature, especially with the reality that they have their respective lives to deal with. Much of the credit should be given to that night’s host and Happy Mondays host for three years, Joel Toledo, a Palanca Awardee himself who spearheaded Happy Mondays. Having in mind that a league of individuals sharing their writings to themselves is critically constructive, which led to becoming the training ground of more Palanca awardees three years later.

Fail!

Just before we left the office and the entire night Ms. Drea kept asking me to participate. I said I have no piece. She said I can read absolutely anything, a line from a song, a movie or from a favorite poem. She elaborated that it need not be my original work, not like I have one lately, but because she thinks I should make my first time at Happy Mondays memorable. I laud every effort she made to convince me, but everything led to no avail.

I just wasn’t ready. It felt like that night was too much to take. I’m not stupid enough to jump into a pool of intellectuals who know what they’re doing and mind you, they’re doing it with passion and just end up embarassing myself. I would stutter that’s for sure. Perhaps tremble while reading and worst faint, just before I read the first word of my piece. The thought of standing on stage in front of everyone who themselves has written a piece, or at least done something that expressed their love for the arts worth priding themselves with is horrfying, especially when the room is causing me to feel clasutrophobic. I have nothing.

Awakened once more

                          

              Krip Yuson(top), Tren, tren, tren dude(left), Gemino Abad(right)               

The readings were everything from entertaining to informative to expressive. You can see that each of them like doctors in the medical field has different specializations, so to speak. Gemino Abad and Krip Yuson are the classics. The guy who read the Tren, Tren, Tren was funny. Race was never an issue, for there were also foreigners who participated together with fellows from distant writing workshops all over the country.

But Michael Coroza (bottom) and the two Batutes(top) balagtasan are by far my favorite. Coroza won me over with his enviable balagtasan skill when he was challenged to do an improptu debate cum balagtasan. He really knows the Filipino language, that’s a fact. I mean,  its not a usual talent to rhyme every phrase you say and make sure that comprehensible thought is made every single time.  

 After the first half of the night, (meaning the yosi break donwstairs) a guy sat on stage reading what seems to me an anecdote(bottom), while an older guy plays guitar in what sounds to me as a little jazz-y. I liked the sound. It permitted my mind to drift outside the room, and determine what i’ve realized so far while listening to various readers for the past one and half hour. 

Other than the fact that I’ve met a bunch of new people, I recalled the times when poetry has become my refuge for every feeling I cannot outrightly say. I miss the moments when I tap my inner self for the emotions to transform into words. The poet within me is awakened once more.

A tap on my shoulder by Ms. Drea asking if I was okay brought me back to reality. Then the night went on and eventually ended, but to me that night was just the beginning.

"Nothing is more invigorating than burning passion in all forms conceivable" 

- my 1st ever happy mondays thought