• Nostalgia Pieces,  Writer's Cafe

    An Eternal Summer Afternoon

    I read somewhere how the Philippine government was trying to figure out what to do with 10 million mangoes produced in excess due to the warmer weather. Mango float, mango shake, mango graham, mango juice, mango jam… the list went on in my head. But the list quickly turned into memories of long, languid, hot summer afternoons, and falling mangoes. There was an abundance of mango trees in Area 1. It was a neighbourhood of faculty homes in the fringes of our university. The paved roads had become dusty from continuous plumbing repairs by Manila Water but it was still lush with overgrown plants and trees. There were mostly fruit…

  • Essays,  Writer's Cafe

    Crooked, Beautiful Things

    I used to dream of capturing beautiful things when I was a kid. I think that was one of the main reasons why I wanted to be a filmmaker before I even knew what it was called. I wanted to capture the sunlight on someone’s hair or the flowers on a pretty white house’s windowsill. But growing up I realized that beauty wasn’t enough, I wanted the energy, the feelings that radiated from those images. I wanted images that had a life of its own, that had stories to tell. And this is what I realized while I waded through teenage insecurities, adolescent angst and adulthood – life won’t always…

  • Travel Diary

    Siam Longings

    Bangkok, 2013 – I fell in love with Bangkok on the first night. It was unexpected. It was  a quiet appreciation that crept on me while I waited in queue at the airport.The lines were long but the process fast. While in queue a Chinese man spoke to the usherettes in his own language. I found myself smiling because I seemed to understand what he meant to say. Throughout the entire trip, I found this a recurring thing among elder Chinese tourists. They would speak to me in their own language, I would respond in english,  and for some strange reason, we all still understood each other. This was made evident…

  • Essays,  Writer's Cafe

    A Thanksgiving for All Seasons

    Along with the coming of autumn, I feel like being reborn. After a slow, and painful death, the past four years seem long gone and I am shedding the remnants of my past . The starting over is always a struggle – one I often forget while living through the daily drudgery. Even sans Turkey dinner and cranberry sauce, I still have so much to be thankful for. I am thankful to know that there are kinder men, kinder than the men who cry  and tell you they love you then betray you the moment your plane takes off. I am thankful that I have finally allowed myself the opportunity…