months ago, i wrote a tribute to a great man, adrian cristobal a contemporary of my elders. something about adrian that my elders -- most of them gone now --- used to say became firmly imprinted on my brain, he was a damn good writer. like the late blas ople, jolly benitez and their ilk, even to an extent kit tatad, adrian's writing surprised you. they used to say.
it made you think about how someone could write that good. a fellow writer of mine, belen, wherever she may be now did not have good words for adrian the way my elders do. she reads adrian cristobal, she reads about him, she probably hears of him alright but there's a mountain of difference if you saw the man and knew him and then you get to read what he has written.
that is the case with my elders. they rode with adrian in the lowly jeepneys, they ate lugaw, goto, arroz caldo, mami and other cheap dishes to stave off hunder with him in the poor man's carinderia / turo-turo, in small restaurants in quiapo, drank liquor with him, walked for tens of kilometers when they had no fare money. still that did not stop the man from rising above his stations.
that, most of all is what i admire deeply about the man. i knew adrian only from my elders, my father and his associates; saw him only from very far and wrote silly letters to him and his daugther who i got to meet once and only once. i got to meet jolly benitez more often, even chat with him in small talk on one or two occasions. not more than that.
but adrian, jolly and their ilk, to me will never die. like ninoy aquino, whose death to my mind is still in a suspended state, they will live forever.
surely i care that many will remember and honor their memory when all of them are gone. but as for me, it is enough and just fitting that knowing them, however superficially in person, albeit deeply from their fine repute and larger than life contributions, as well as their positive and benign effect upon other humans, gives me the chance to nurture the living imprint of their persona, their intellect and works.
in that sense, adrian, blas ople, ninoy and hopefully alive for a much longer while jolly benitez, in both the innermost recesses and conscious parts of my brain will always be animated imprints. always alive. always vibrant, oozing with life and their ideas, challenging the world and rocking the wretched, lazy dogs in their sloth and sleep. like me, and a few others besides...
so to you, an icon that i look up to, adrian cristobal, i shall not mourn. i shall not weep. i shall not feel the loss. for there shall always be in my mind, in my heart perchance too, in my soul, that ever stirring icon and a living and breathing script that is the quintessential epitome of the gift that you bequeathed on me though not on purpose but happily received after all.
pouvez vous long de phase mon cher idole!
