*Note this story is in Tagalog

Maselan ang isang kaluluwa.

Ito ay napagod sa itinagal nito sa buhay. May kakayahan itong makaramdam sa iba’t ibang pananaw. Nagsasalita ito ng walang boses, may kakayahan itong makinig sa katahimikan, at abutin ka mula sa kalayuan. Ang katawan ay isang aninag lamang ng ninanais gawin ng isang kaluluwa.

Nagugutom din ito. Malakas ang gana nito nang hindi mo inaasahan. Gutom ito sa katotohanan, naghahanap ito ng kagandahan, kababalaghan, at gustong-gusto niya ng pagmamahal. Tutulakin ka nitong magkaroon ng romansa at rebolusyon, sa pamamagitan ng pait at paghihirap para lamang siya ay makakain. Hindi kailanman makukuntento ang isang kaluluwa, hindi sa mga buhay na naranasan nito.

Hinati ito ng maraming beses sa bawat katawan na binigyang buhay nito. Binabago ng bawat alaala ang kaluluwa hanggang maabot nito ang walang hanggang posibilidad. Kaya bang buhayin ang isang kaluluwa sa pamamagitan ng isang kislap? Makakapagmuni-muni ba ito tungkol sa taglay mong kagandahan? Mawawala ba ang iyong kaluluwa sa problema ng daigdig? Malaya bang makakapaglakad ang iyong kaluluwa sa mundo? Kailangan bang pagalingin ang iyong kaluluwa? Taglay ba ng iyong kaluluwa ang katotohanan tungkol sa iyong pagkatao?

Pinapadugo ito ng buhay. Pinapahirapan ng buhay ang isang kaluluwa, tinatakpan ito ng mga paghihirap at sakit. Hindi kailanman ginawa ang kaluluwa para sa daigdig na ito, makukuha lamang nito ang kapayapaan sa kalangitan.

Magtatapos ang buhay ng hindi inaasahan at iyon lamang ang panahon kung kailan mapapanatag ang isang kaluluwa. Makakapagpahinga ito sa kaniyang sisidlan, katulad ng iba niyang kasama, at tunay niyang malalaman ang kalayaan mula sa sakit na pinagdaanan niya sa buhay. Mula sa presensya ng kaniyang tagabantay, makakahinga na ito ng maluwag. Sa ilalim ng isanlibong matang nagmamasid, makakalimutan nito ang sakit, ang pahihirap, at kagutuman.

Magiging ligtas ang kaluluwa.

Magpakailanman.

=——————————————————————————————-=

English Version

The soul is a very fragile thing.

Throughout life it is shaken. It can sense the world through a million different lenses. It speaks without voice, it can hear through the deepest silence, it can touch from mountains away. The body is but a pale reflection of what the soul can achieve.

A soul is a hungry creature. It craves more than it could ever hope to get. It quests for truth, it searches for beauty, it seeks out wonder, it longs for love. It forces you to feed its hunger through romance and revolution, through bitterness and burdens. The soul can never be satisfied, not in any life that is lived.

It breaks into a billion pieces in a trillion ways each lifetime. Every moment shifts the soul into a spectrum of possibilities. Will your soul be set off with a spark? Will it reflect the beauty you possess? Will you lose your soul to the world’s problems? Will you bare your naked soul to the world? Will your soul need to be healed? Will your soul seek its missing piece? Will your soul be the truth of who you are?

Life bleeds the soul dry. Life only brings suffering to the soul, covering it in layers upon layers of torment and pain. The soul was never made for the earth, it can only know true peace in the heavens.

Life will end as it inevitably does and it is only then that the soul can finally be secure. It will rest in its jar, among countless others like it and it will know freedom from the pain it so desperately ran from in life. In the shadow of its guardian the soul can breathe like it never could. Under the watchful gaze of a thousand eyes, it can forget the pain and the burden and the hunger.

The soul will be safe.

Forever.

=————————————————————-=

*Tagalog is an Austronesian language spoken as a first language by a quarter of the population of the Philippines and as a second language by the majority. Its standardized form, officially named Filipino, is the national language of the Philippines, and is one of two official languages alongside English.

Walo guards a section of heaven where the souls of all humans are located. The souls are kept in tightly covered jars

Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Emman Bernardino
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Emman Bernardino

Story inspired by “Origin of This World (Maranao)” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Myths. Eugenio. 2001.

Walo Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Colors by Alexa Garde
Website: Lexa.us

The post Walo – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

“It’s my turn! Gimme the crown!”

“No way! It looks better on me!”

The girls were being a handful again and it was getting on Lola Nena’s nerves. There was no reason for Aina and Alisa to be fighting this much over something as silly as being a princess.

“Give it back,” Alisa screamed, “the crown belongs to me!”
“No, fair is fair, now it’s my turn to be the princess, and I’m going to be the best princess ever!” Aina stuck her tongue out at Alisa and that just made her angrier.

“You can’t be the best princess, you don’t even know how to rule! You’re just gonna make your kingdom suck.” Alisa tried to tackle her sister, but she was too fast and Alisa stumbled through empty air.

“Now girls watch your language! We don’t say ‘sucks’ to each other,” said Lola Nena, trying to inject a measure of civility into the fight.

“It’s mine!” Aina deftly dodged her sister sending Alisa right into the path of a very expensive vase.

The crash could be heard throughout the house. The sisters didn’t even notice the chaos that they caused, continuing to play their game of catch the crown.
Lola Nena had enough.

“That’s it! Both of you to your room!” Lola Nena may have been old but she was fast. She snatched the crown from Aina’s head and grasped it tight. “If you two won’t behave then no one gets to be the princess.” And with that Lola Nena broke the crown in two.

There isn’t a word to describe the sound of two girl’s hearts breaking, but ‘crestfallen’ comes pretty close. The girls were disconsolate and Lola Nena would not budge. They cried all the way to their room, burying themselves in their sheets, trying to forget what had happened.

“This is all your fault stupid!” Alisa muffled scream forced its way through her blankets. “If it wasn’t for you one of us would still be the princess.”

“Ha shows what you know! You don’t need a crown to be a princess,” Aina said, haughtily.

“Stupid! How else will people know you’re royalty? The crown is a symbol of your power!” Alisa replied.

“A crown is just a crown; real royalty doesn’t need fancy jewelry. You just know what you are.”

Silence followed. Aina took this as a sign that she had won the argument and readied herself for sleep. It was so childish the way Alisa kept trying to get the crown. Even though they were twins Aina always thought that she was the more mature one, it paid to have been born five minutes earlier.

Aina switched off the lamp and put her blanket over her head, trying to get some sleep.

And outside the window a golden figure hovered.

He was half a man, with wings of gold, peering through the windows the human homes.

The hour was late and he was getting hungry. He had decided on a particularly mousey girl to be his dinner, but a noise in the distance interrupted his plans.

Curious, he flew towards the sound.

And he listened.

It had been decades since he had last taken a princess to be his prisoner. Not since…

Not since her.

He closed his eyes and thought to the past.

The storm gods were angry that day and rain battered an unnamed village by the coast. The people of the village tried to hide from the rain in their huts, but it was of no use. Waves, tripling in size, threatened to drown the villagers.
It seemed like there was nothing they could do, nothing until she walked out towards the rain.

She shouted to the heavens in a voice that not even gods could ignore.

“Spare this village and take me instead! I will be your servant!”

The winds carried her prayer and what else could he do but answer?

“Are you a god?” she asked.

“To some,” he answered.

“Will you spare my people from this storm?”

“In exchange for you? I will.”

He took her hand and with his power the storm ceased to be. They did not fly towards the heavens as she expected, instead diving to the bottom of the ocean. His home.

Their days were spent in story and song. She had a voice that would make angels flush with envy and her beauty was matched by her quick wit.

She told tales of far off lands, magical beasts and those that sought to tame them.

In time he felt comfortable enough that he took his true form, his human shape.

But all things come to an end. No matter how hard he tried to keep her alive, humans were fragile beings. The sands of time fell not in her favor and she was lost to dust.

He shook off the past and remembered that his prey was waiting.

He would have his princess.

“Wha—?” Aina rubbed her eyes and saw a large, golden bird knocking at her window.

She thought she was still dreaming and opened the window.

“Are you the princess?” the bird asked.

“I—-”

“No she’s not!” Alisa screamed. “I’m the only princess here!”

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, your majesty,” said the bird.

“Alisa, stay back.” Something wasn’t right, this didn’t feel like a dream. A spark traveled through Aina’s spine and lingered.

“See? Here’s someone that knows how to treat royalty!” Alisa sprang up from her bed and stood in front of the golden bird.

“Will you come with me to my palace, your majesty?”
“No Alisa! Don’t—-this isn’t——”

“Quiet! All my life all you do is stop me from doing things, I don’t care if you’re five minutes older, we’re still the same age and you can’t tell me how to live my life!”

“Alisa listen to me, this is dangerous—-”

“I don’t care, for once in my life I’m finally going to be treated the way I deserve.”

“And what is a princess without her crown?” From his wings the bird produced a tiara of glistening gold, enveloping the room in a soft glow.

“Yes, now we’re talking! Give it to me!”

“Alisa! Stop!”

But it was too late. The young girl greedily snatched the crown from the claws of the bird and before she knew it she was being carried away.

Aina tried to call for help. She told Lola Nena what had happened, but would you believe that a golden bird came out of nowhere and offered your granddaughter a crown?
Alisa’s picture was spread through social media and the newspapers. A sizable reward was put forward for information on her whereabouts, but they would never find her. They were looking in the wrong places.

And Aina?

She knew what monster took her sister and she prepared herself. Nothing was going to stop her from rescuing her twin. The years were hard for her, putting herself through the most physically demanding training and diving through books until she found what she was looking for.

Garuda.

She swore that she would find her sister.

But that’s a story for another time.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Garuda description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Garuda Illustration by Paul Medalla
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IG: instagram.com/apolonio.draws/
artstation: artstation.com/zerobreed

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I have always liked staring at the moon. There’s just the mystery of what she is. Does she shine her light only on the worthy? Is she dressed by the stars? Is she eternal?

There was never a chance for me to play with the other children, there was always some sickness or another that kept me indoors. I could never appreciate the sun’s harsh rays, but in the night, among the starlight and the gentle breeze, my only friend was the moon.

The elders tell stories that if the moon were to cease being in the sky, the world would end. I laughed at those stories once upon a time, for how could the moon ever stop her perpetual cycle? She was the dream made into reality, the perfect harbinger of light.

That is, until I saw the lion.

It was called the Arimaonga by the elders. I didn’t know how to react as terror filled my entire body. It was larger than I thought any animal could ever be. And it was clutching my beloved moon.

Time froze then, I stared helplessly as my only friend was being devoured by the beast. In some perverse way, the lion was playing a game, not knowing that it may just be the doom of us all.

She was more scared than I was. I could feel her hopelessness as she was clutched between the jaws of the lion. I started crying then.

“Lion release the moon or the world will come to an end!”

I don’t know why I started saying those words but it felt natural, like they needed to be said.

“Lion release the moon or the world will come to an end!”

The other villagers stared joining me in the chant. The elders brought out their drums and gongs to make the noises reach the heavens.

“LION RELEASE THE MOON OR THE WORLD WILL COME TO AN END!”

Our throats were hoarse, our breath almost gone but we did not stop. I will not abandon her to the lion, this village will not abandon her.

The lion finally released the moon after what seemed like an eternity. She clutched her sides and resumed her track along the heavens.

And I, a humble child thanked the gods that my only friend was safe.

————————–————————–————————-

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Arimaonga description in Philippine Folk Literature: The Myths. Eugenio. 2001.

Arimaonga illustration by Lou Pineda
IG: https://www.instagram.com/blacknivalis/

The post Arimaonga appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

The soul is a very fragile thing.

Throughout life it is shaken. It can sense the world through a million different lenses. It speaks without voice, it can hear through the deepest silence, it can touch from mountains away. The body is but a pale reflection of what the soul can achieve.

A soul is a hungry creature. It craves more than it could ever hope to get. It quests for truth, it searches for beauty, it seeks out wonder, it longs for love. It forces you to feed its hunger through romance and revolution, through bitterness and burdens. The soul can never be satisfied, not in any life that is lived.

It breaks into a billion pieces in a trillion ways each lifetime. Every moment shifts the soul into a spectrum of possibilities. Will your soul be set off with a spark? Will it reflect the beauty you possess? Will you lose your soul to the world’s problems? Will you bare your naked soul to the world? Will your soul need to be healed? Will your soul seek its missing piece? Will your soul be the truth of who you are?

Life bleeds the soul dry. Life only brings suffering to the soul, covering it in layers upon layers of torment and pain. The soul was never made for the earth, it can only know true peace in the heavens.

Life will end as it inevitably does and it is only then that the soul can finally be secure. It will rest in its jar, among countless others like it and it will know freedom from the pain it so desperately ran from in life. In the shadow of its guardian the soul can breathe like it never could. Under the watchful gaze of a thousand eyes, it can forget the pain and the burden and the hunger.

The soul will be safe.

Forever.

————————–————————–————————–—

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by “Origin of This World (Maranao)” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Myths. Eugenio. 2001.

Walo Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Colors by Alexa Garde
Website: Lexa.us

The post Walo appeared first on Philippine Spirits.