Pinahiram ng buwan ang kanyang ilaw sa larawan ng isang masaker.
Kumpol-kumpol na laman-loob ang nagkalat sa kapatagan na parang bahay-katayan; napuno ang ere ng kaluskos ng
buto at nakakasindak na sigaw habang rumaragasa ang lagim ng isang halimaw sa aming nayon.
Ngunit, alam ng lahat na, pagkarating ng sunod na buwan, ito ay aming bibigyang panalangin. Dahil kapag ang ilaw
ng bilog na buwan ay sumapit sa nayon, ito ay nagiging isang maawain na nilalang na magbabantay sa pagtubo ng
mga inani.
Pagod na ako dito.
Bakit kailangan natin magdusa sa mga pakana ng buwan? Bakit kailangan ko muli maglibing ng kapamilya tapos
makiusap sa kanilang mamatay-tao na ako’y kanyang biyayaan? Bakit kailangan ko muli marinig ang kanilang mga
iyak sa aking bawat pagtulog, nagtataka kung ano sana ang nagawa ko para mailigtas sila?
Ang ‘maawain’ na anyo ng nilalang ay hindi naiiba sa atin, ngunit hindi ako malilinlang. Alam ko ang tunay nitong
anyo, ang nag-iisa nitong mata at mababagsik nitong mga pangil. Hindi ito makakatago sa likod ng mukha ng
kapayapaan upang maghasik lamang muli ng digmaan sa sunod na paglaho ng bilog na mukha ng buwan.
Sa pagtaas ng bagong buwan, ako ay nanunumpa.
Iwawaksi ko ang siklo ng pagdurusa. Itataas ko ang aking armas laban sa diyos na itong balimbing at pababagsakin
siya sa kanyang tuhod.
Sinusumpa ko.
Labis na ang nawala sa akin sa lagim at mga sigaw. Bawat gabi, nakikita ko ang mukha ng aking kapatid habang
nakasabit ang kanyang bankay sa bunganga ng Tagamaling. Ang kanyang huling mga sigaw ay hahabol sa akin
hanggang sa kamatayan.
Ako ay sinasamahan ng ibang mangangaso. Bawat isa ay nawalan ng kasintahan, kaibigan, kapatid, o magulang sa
kagat ng pangil ng baliw na diyos. Bawat isa ay wala nang kinatatakutan. Wala nang maiwawala.
Kaya sinusulat ko ang liham na ito para sa iyo, mahal kong anak.
Manatili kang matatag sa mukha ng kasamaan at huwag mo ikompromiso kailanman kung ano at sino ka sa kahit
kanino.
Paalam.

=———————–=

English Version

The full moon lends its light to the carnage.

Piles of human flesh strung across the plain like an abattoir, the crunch of bone and the screams of pain filled the air as the monster ravaged its way through my village.

Yet, we knew that in the next month it would have our worship. When the light of the full moon extends over our village shall it become a beneficent deity, watching over our crops like stoic sentinels.

I’m tired of this.

Why must we suffer with the whims of the moon? Why must I have to bury another member of my family and then ask blessings of their murderer?  Why must I hear their screams every time I sleep, wondering what I could have done to save them?

In their “benevolent” form they appeared much like we do, but that does not fool me. I know their true nature, their one eye and their terrible fangs.  They cannot hide behind their facade of peace only to bring war the next time the moon rears its next full face.

With the rise of the new moon I make a vow.

I will end this cycle of torment. I will raise arms against this confused god and bring it down to its knees.

I will.

I have lost too much to the terror, to the screams. Each night I can only see the face of my brother as he hung from the mouth of the tagamaling. His last scream will haunt me until the end of my time.

I am joined by the other hunters, each has lost a lover, a friend, a sibling or a parent to the maw of the mad god. Each has nothing left to lose. Not anymore.

So I write to you this letter, my beloved son.

Always keep yourself strong in the face of evil, and never compromise who and what you are to no one.

Goodbye.

=————————=

*Note this story is in Bicol

Tiga-sinagan kan bilog na bulan an mga gadan. Tiripontipong lawas nin mga tawo an nagtataralayan sa luwas na gari katayan nin orig, an mga pidaso nin mga buto asin mga nagtitios na suriyaw tigpapano an paros sa papag-atake kan halimaw sa sakuyang barangay.

Ugaring, aram kong sa sunod na bulan mapapasaiya na kami saiya. Pagnagsinag na an kabilogan kan buwan sa samuyang barangay, magi sana itong matinabang na diyos na nag-iiling sa samuyang mga pananom, arog kin sarong matibay na taga-bantay.

Pipagal na ako kaini.

Nyata pa kami kailangan mag-tios sa kadikluman nin banggi? Nyata pa ako kailangan mag-lubong kan saro pang miyembro kan sakong pamilya asin mag-agad nin grasya para sa saindang kagadanan? Nyata pa ako kailangan makadangog kan saindang mga suriyaw sa sakuyang pag-turog puripirmi, tig-iisip kun ano an sakuyang mga naitabang kuta para sainda?

Sa saindang “marahay-rahay” na itsura, gari man lang sinda kapandok ta, ugaring dae ako nagpapadara sa saindang pagbalat-kayo. Aram ko an saindang tunay na itsura, an saindang tig-sararong mata asin an saindang mga mapanasong pangil. Dae sinda makakatago sa saindang maray na itsura kun madara sana sinda kin digmaan sa sunod na pagpailing nin bulan.

Sa pag-sakat nin ba’gong bulan, ako minagibong pangako ngunyan.

Papatapuson ko an paulit-ulit na pasakit. Itataas ko an mga sandata laban sa libong na diyos na ini asin papatukruon ko siya pagnadaog siya.

Gigibuhon ko nanggad.

Nagluya na ako sa takot, sa mga maribokong suriyaw. Burubanggi an nailing ko sana, pandok kan sakuyang tugang na nakasa’bit sa ngimot kan tagamaling. Daeng kasagkuran ko marurumduman an saiyang natatadang suriyaw hanggang magadan ako.

Tig-sabayan ako nin iba pang mga taga-ngaso laban sa halimaw, gabos na sinda may nawarang padaba, amigo asin amiga, tugang o magurang sa saro sanang sa’ngab nin halimaw na ito. Gabos wara nang mawawara pa. Dae nang mawawara pa.

Kaya tigsusurat ko ining liham saimo, padabaon kong aki.Pirming maging makusog asin matibay pag nasa ampangan nin maraot, asin dae ipaaram maski kisay kun sisay o ano ka.

Paaram.

—————————————————————————–

English Version

The full moon lends its light to the carnage.

Piles of human flesh strung across the plain like an abattoir, the crunch of bone and the screams of pain filled the air as the monster ravaged its way through my village.

Yet, we knew that in the next month it would have our worship. When the light of the full moon extends over our village shall it become a beneficent deity, watching over our crops like stoic sentinels.

I’m tired of this.

Why must we suffer with the whims of the moon? Why must I have to bury another member of my family and then ask blessings of their murderer? Why must I hear their screams every time I sleep, wondering what I could have done to save them?

In their “benevolent” form they appeared much like we do, but that does not fool me. I know their true nature, their one eye and their terrible fangs. They cannot hide behind their facade of peace only to bring war the next time the moon rears its next full face.

With the rise of the new moon I make a vow.

I will end this cycle of torment. I will raise arms against this confused god and bring it down to its knees.

I will.

I have lost too much to the terror, to the screams. Each night I can only see the face of my brother as he hung from the mouth of the tagamaling. His last scream will haunt me until the end of my time.

I am joined by the other hunters, each has lost a lover, a friend, a sibling or a parent to the maw of the mad god. Each has nothing left to lose. Not anymore.
So I write to you this letter, my beloved son.

Always keep yourself strong in the face of evil, and never compromise who and what you are to anyone.

Goodbye.

————————————————————————————–

* The Bikol languages or Bicolano languages are a group of Central Philippine languages spoken mostly in the Bicol Peninsula in the island of Luzon, the neighboring island province of Catanduanes and the island of Burias in Masbate. There is a dialect continuum between the Visayan languages and the Bikol languages; the two together are called the Bisakol languages.

The Tabaco-Legazpi-Sorsogon (TLS) dialect is spoken in the eastern coast of Albay and the northeastern part of Sorsogon. TLS is the dialect that has been most influenced by the Inland Bikol languages. 

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Jeremiah Cordial

Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © Jeremiah Cordial

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

Tagamaling Illustration by Jowee Aguinaldo.

The full moon lends its light to the carnage.

Piles of human flesh strung across the plain like an abattoir, the crunch of bone and the screams of pain filled the air as the monster ravaged its way through my village.

Yet, we knew that in the next month it would have our worship. When the light of the full moon extends over our village shall it become a beneficent deity, watching over our crops like stoic sentinels.

I’m tired of this.

Why must we suffer with the whims of the moon? Why must I have to bury another member of my family and then ask blessings of their murderer? Why must I hear their screams every time I sleep, wondering what I could have done to save them?

In their “benevolent” form they appeared much like we do, but that does not fool me. I know their true nature, their one eye and their terrible fangs. They cannot hide behind their facade of peace only to bring war the next time the moon rears its next full face.

With the rise of the new moon I make a vow.

I will end this cycle of torment. I will raise arms against this confused god and bring it down to its knees.

I will.

I have lost too much to the terror, to the screams. Each night I can only see the face of my brother as he hung from the mouth of the tagamaling. His last scream will haunt me until the end of my time.

I am joined by the other hunters, each has lost a lover, a friend, a sibling or a parent to the maw of the mad god. Each has nothing left to lose. Not anymore.

So I write to you this letter, my beloved son.

Always keep yourself strong in the face of evil, and never compromise who and what you are to anyone.

Goodbye.

*The Tagamaling switches between beneficent deity and man-eating monster. It turns monstrous between the full moon and the new moon.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

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

Tagamaling Illustration by Jowee Aguinaldo.