Perhaps today

Some people are able to know in advance what’s yet to come. These seers can tell coming events in such detail that they’re like describing a movie flashed before their very eyes. We envy these gifted ones, we ordinary mortals who can only make hopeful or frightened guesses of the future.

Last week a middle-aged mother in my neighborhood succumbed to breast cancer. Months before, a tambalan (healer) had foretold her death, saying she would not live through the month of May. The woman beat the prediction by only about a month.

I cannot imagine what it was like for her to be counting her remaining days, as her body wasted away. For sure she had to endure terrible torment, both physical and emotional. She had been suffering unceasing pain since her operation a year ago. That alone must have been a real torture.

Anyone in her condition would certainly wish for it all to end sooner. The thought of one more day would probably be so dreadful. Perhaps another morning is welcome only for the simple reason that it might at last bring the final relief.

To this day, the sinking of the M/V Princess of the Stars two years ago still has many of the ship’s passengers and crew unaccounted for. Every day that passes since the tragedy is like a layer of sludge continuously piling up over the possibility that any one of the missing is still alive or, if not, for the remains of the fatalities yet under water to be ever retrieved and accordingly identified.

But hope is not all lost. At least it still flickers in the hearts of loved ones left behind. Little children still wait for Papa or Mama to come home soon, bringing them nice pasalubong (arrival present). Grieving family members, although already quite certain of their loss, would not give up in their hope that their missing dear ones are just out there and well.

Who can ever explain the intense determination of victims’ relatives lining up day after day at various offices for any bit of news on the retrieval operation or to claim the remains of their dead? Perhaps they think that on any day there may be some positive development. Or that on this particular day a tooth or piece of bone may be handed over to them, to somehow assuage their sorrow.

A lady friend of mine insists to go brisk-walking with me at the Ayala Park every morning. I go out very early – 4 a.m. sharp. She would already be waiting at my door as I put on my walking shoes.

But, I would later learn, it is not physical conditioning that my friend is after. During our first few mornings together, I noticed that she was always looking around at the other walkers in the park. She would discreetly gaze at every one we met, as if trying to see if it was someone she knew.

I asked if she was looking for someone, although she didn’t have to tell me. It was pretty obvious. Our early morning walks, she admitted indirectly, were indeed her way to see her lover, who is a married guy.

Since then, I make it a point to stay several meters away from her as soon as we arrive at the park. I want to give the two of them some space, in case she finds him there. He only comes once in a while; he won’t even tell her if he is coming or not. But the uncertainty doesn’t discourage my friend; she is always there, hoping to find him.

Right next to my small rented place, there’s a lotto betting station. There’s something about it that disturbs me. People hang around the tiny booth all day, placing their bets and checking on the results of the previous draw. They are mostly poor people – smalltime vendors, wage earners, jeepney drivers – all hoping to get lucky.

Well, it disturbs me because I don’t believe that gambling is the way to attain prosperity in life. I don’t think betting in a numbers game is a wise or noble act, even if part of the bets supposedly goes to public welfare projects.

Consider what chances one has of winning in lotto. An expert analyst had said that one is more likely to get hit by lightning than win in a lotto draw. Think only of the number of daily bettors as against only one lucky winner once in a long while.

But it seems people don’t mind. Lotto is doing quite well. The government is running it; it’s perfectly legal. Yes, in a poor country like ours.

The government probably thought that Filipinos were going to gamble anyway, so it might as well take away the gambling operations from the unscrupulous groups, and run it honestly and make the profit itself. So then the earnings can be used for the welfare of indigent citizens.

However, given the average economic standing of the habitual lotto bettors, it does not make any sense to me that the government hands out money for the poor one day and then takes it back the next day at the lotto station so it will have money again to give away the following week. I find it odd. It’s like robbing Juan to give to Juan.

Gambling is okay – occasionally and in the right places. We have government-run gambling casinos; those who can’t resist the itch to part of their money will need to make the trip there. But for gambling to be made so convenient and accessible to the most gullible – the poorest – among us by positioning lotto stations at every street corner? I find that disturbing.

But then again, people troop to lotto betting stations everyday, in numbers big enough to decide who becomes President of the country. Is it really wrong? Who am I to say? This is a free country.

It looks like we all will do anything and keep at it out of hope. That luck will wink at us and we will have the riches we’ve been dreaming of, that someone we love who has been cold to us will suddenly begin to reciprocate our affection, that all our troubles will cease to be, that we will finally come to see the sense of all this, and that we may go prepared and ready when our time comes. Perhaps today.

(E-MAIL: [email protected])