Life's Lessons In Adventures And Misadventures As Seen Through The Eyes Of A Semi-Rambling Aspiring Savant!

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Cemetery Chills

Never appreciated horror or suspense flicks, as a matter of fact, I can't even stand hearing their damned creepy compositions that give me the chills! Yeah, yeah, such a coward right? Well, if you guys have even just an itsy-bitsy piece of my imagination, you wouldn't say so, I think. Uh, I have this weird imagination thing going on...I mean, my mind replays everything I hear or watch during my waking hours when I go to sleep...that's just about ok I guess, 'cept for the fact that am morphed into the film's victim & that I'd have become the subject of interest of the film's slayer. Bloody Nightmare!! Now you still suppose I'd dare watch or listen to any horrendous themes? You've got to be kidding me!! Not in my Life!!

Now since am not into horror flicks, isn't this just odd that am actually writing something eerie here on my blog? C-E-M-E-T-E-R-Y Chills....sounds spooky? Read on...

I bet most of you went to the cemetery this Nov.1. For some of you, maybe on Oct. 31st or a couple of days earlier so as to avoid the extreme traffic & aggregation. As for me and mom, we usually drop by grandma's grave on the wee hours of the 31st morn. As I help mom arrange the flowers that we brought into an old vase, I noticed that there aren't too many people around our part of the cemetery just yet. Passive, I should say. I asked mom if we're gonna go home shortly for if not I would like to take some time strolling around. I haven't been back the cemetery for ages and I'd like to see if things are still the way it were as I used to recall 'em. She shook her head slightly saying that she'd like to spend a little more time on grandma's burial chamber. It's what she calls her once a year "to-do", so I eagerly informed her that I'd be back in less than an hour & grabbed my towel & bottle of mineral water & skidded down the alley towards my sort-of adventure.

The morning breeze was soft & cool as the sun was slowly peeking its way up the horizon emanating pleasant rays of gold and pink all throughout. I continued on my stroll towards a path I usually took during the early years of my grandma's burial. It was a narrow path leading to more burial grounds where wild flowers usually grow in abundance. Hmm...what flowers would I see this time, I wonder. I was so preoccupied with these thoughts that I didn't even notice the air becoming thick & foggy with each step I take. Only when some pungent smell enveloped me did I begin to feel utterly sick. Worse, I began hearing clanking sounds ahead of me. Yikes,panic tells me to turn back but curiosity nudges me to go right ahead. Nearing the opening of the alley where the fog & smell seems to thicken, I saw some shadowy figures moving about in uncharacterized manner with picks & sledges in hand....Gulp! Do I wanna see what those are? Maybe I should go back now, but before I could decide on that, a light tap on my shoulder & a shivery whisper echoed 'Padaan naman, Ini' surprised the hell out of me. I almost jumped out of my wits then & there....buti na lang it was just a Manong who wanted to go ahead of me...prolly in a rush. As I followed him toward the opening, I noticed that the foggy air and pungent smell came from the various incenses, candles & Chinese paper money being burned continuously over the urns of some tombstones and that the clanking sounds were from workers digging out an abandoned grave...the exact same workers that projected the shadowy figures earlier on. Now am really glad I didn't freak out or something, 'coz if I did, I would probably look stupid.

Continuing on another path, I found a couple of less than reserved families enjoying a sort of a picnic over their dearly beloved's graves. There were even some beer bottles lying left & right side by side the drunken bodies oblivious to the glares of each passersby. They have turned the solemness of the holiday into one lousy drinking picnic! God, I hate the living sometimes!

Not far from the drunken fest, something or rather somebody caught my attention. There sitting on top of a grave was a guy (prolly drunk) belting his heart out to the tune of an old kundiman. Man, if you could just hear him sing! C-H-I-L-L-I-N-G!!! The hairs at the back of my neck and on my arms rose up like tiny little spikes! The man's singing was a LOT more chilling than that of my near false encounters awhile ago. And as if it weren't enough, another not so sober guy stood atop of another grave & belted his own version of "My Heart Will Go On" complete with "Mic test, Mic test" even as he shift his microphone from one hand to the other. Is this a KARAOKE BAR or somethin?!! What happened to staying sober & remembering our dead on their special day? Good grief! The dead are prolly rolling in their graves this instant from having to bear with all these sacrileges. Worse, we living have to suffer too and bear with all the boozy & shiver-sending-down-my-spine type of singing while attempting to remain calm & restrained from putting an end to their miserable lives, so that we & our dead can have some peace & quiet!!

Walking farther away from the spot & from all that singing rumble (which still gives me the chills), I realized that the essence of the holiday seemed so perverted nowadays. That instead of sobriety, we have all these cacophonic nonsense. We disrupt the peace of our neighbors & that of the dead by building picnic spots on top of graves & work our lungs out in chatters & celebrations when we should be commemorating our passed loved ones. How can we expect to find peace for ourselves when we disregard that of the dead?! So, unless you want to feel shivers down your spine (and I'm not referring to a couple of off-keys on your singing fest), better learn to keep things in perspective!


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Jaz/Female. Lives in Philippines/Manila/Pasay City, speaks Chinese and English.
This is my blogchalk:
Philippines, Manila, Pasay City, Chinese, English, Jaz, Female.