*Note this story is in Tagalog
Sa Norte, sa lugar na tinatawag na Lagui, may nakatirang ibon na nagngangalang Apan. Nagmula sa malayong hilagang-silangan si Apan at ang kaniyang uri, ngunit bunsod ng marahas na taglamig sa lupaing iyon, lumipad sila patimog sa lugar na maraming molino.
Isang araw, habang nagpaparaya ang araw sa pagsikat ng buwan, may nasulyapan si Apan na ibong noon niya lamang nakita. Apat na taglamig na ang lumipas mula nang siya ay isilang, at akala niya ay alam na niya ang lahat ng ibong dumarayo sa Lagui. Ang ibong iyon ay hindi susulbot, galansiyang, o maya. Naalala niya roon ang mga ngiwngiw na nangangaso malapit sa sangang pahingahan niya dahil sa mukha at dipa ng mga pakpak niyon, ngunit hanggang doon lamang ang pagkakawangis.
Wala sa mga ibong naisip niya ang may liwanag na parang bituin.
Pagod na si Apan dahil buong araw siyang naghanap ng makakain, subalit hindi iyon naging hadlang upang lumipad siya papalapit sa ibon sa pagnanais niyang makita iyon nang mas mabuti.
Hindi kalakihan ang ibon. Naalala rito ni Apan ang mga pato at saranggola na iniiwasan ng kaniyang uri. Madaling sundan ang ibon kahit sa malayo, na magandang bagay para kay Apan. Ibinuka ng ibon ang mga pakpak nito at dumapo ito sa isang sanga sa malapit.
Nang iangat ng ibon ang mga pakpak nito, nakita ni Apan ang pinagmumulan ng liwanag nito. May bolang nagbabaga sa ilalim ng bawat pakpak ng ibon. Nagtaka si Apan kung paano nangyaring hindi nilalamon ng apoy ang ibon. Binabaan niya ang kaniyang lipad sa pag-aakalang hindi siya makikita ng ibon at dumapo siya sa isang sanga sa ilalim nito.
Tila rebulto ang ibon. Kinilabutan si Apan sa bikas nitong walang-tinag. Naisip niya, “Ano ang gagawin ng ibong ito?”
“Alam kong nariyan ka,” ang sambit ng ibon, sa wakas.
Hindi gumalaw si Apan. Sigurado siyang nakapuwesto siya sa lugar kung saan hindi siya makikita ng ibon.
“Halika’t mag-usap tayo,” ang sabi ng ibon.
Kaya naman, lumipad si Apan upang tumabi sa ibon. Hindi siya sanay nang gising sa gabi at nakakaramdam na siya ng bigat sa kaniyang mga pakpak, ngunit noon lamang siya nakadama ng ganoong kagalakan. Bihirang magkaroon ng pagkakataong makahanap ng bagay na bago at maaari niyang usisain.
Humarap siya sa ibon at nagtanong. “Ano ka?”
Tumawa ang ibon. “Hindi ka nagpapaligoy-ligoy, ano?”
Ibinaba ng ibon ang mga pakpak nito at natakpan ang mga bola ng apoy.
“Tulad mo, isa akong ibon.”
“Wala kang katulad sa mga ibong nakita ko na dati, at apat na taglamig na akong pumupunta rito,” ani Apan.
“Isa akong espesyal na uri ng ibon,” ang tugon nito.
“Bakit ka may apoy sa ilalim ng iyong mga pakpak? Paano nangyaring hindi ka nilalamon nito?”
“Napakamausisa mong ibon,” ang sagot nito. “Bakit mo gustong malaman?”
“Ngayon lamang ako nakakita ng nilalang na lumilipad sa kalangitan nang may taglay na angking karingalan. Nais kitang ikuwento sa iba pang ibon sa aking langkay.”
“O, siya,” ang sabi ng ibon. “Sasabihin ko sa iyo ang aking kuwento. Bago iyon, may tanong ako na dapat mong sagutin.”
“Sige!” ani Apan. “Gagawin ko ang lahat, marinig ko lamang ang iyong kuwento.”
“Ano ang paniniwala mo sa usapin ng kapalaran?”
Nabigla si Apan. Hindi niya inaasahang magbabato ng ganoong klase ng tanong ang ibon. Hindi nag-aabala ang kaniyang uri sa mga dakilang bagay na tulad ng kapalaran. Nalulugod na silang lumipad patungo sa maiinit na lugar at maghanap ng makakain.
Kaya naman, ganito ang isinagot niya:
“Hindi ko alam kung talagang may ganoon. Isang salita ang kapalaran na naglalarawan sa mga bayani at hari, hindi sa abang ibon na gaya ko.”
Tumawa ang ibon. “Pinaniniwalaan mo ba talaga iyan?”
“Oo.”
Tumingin ang ibon kay Apan nang may awa na bakas sa mukha nito. “May kapalarang sinusundan ang bawat nabubuhay na nilalang. Kapag hindi mo iyon tinahak, malaki ang ipinagkakait mo sa iyong sarili.”
“Ikaw naman, ano ang palagay mo sa kapalaran?”
“Maihahalintulad sa hangin ang kapalaran. Maaari itong umihip nang kasinglakas ng unos o kasinghina ng dampi sa iyong balahibo. Hindi ito maaaring tanggihan; may dala itong kinabukasan na kung babalewalain ay maituturing na isang kahangalan.”
Napatahimik si Apan. Hindi niya alam kung ano ang kaniyang isasagot sa ibon.
Nagpatuloy ang ibon: “May mas malaking kinababahagian ang lahat ng buhay. Sa munting pagbabago sa hangin na bunsod ng pagpagaspas natin sa ating mga pakpak, maaaring makarating ang isang langaw sa lugar na kung hindi dahil doon ay hindi nito pupuntahan. Malinaw na naaapektuhan ang lahat ng buhay bawat araw ng mga puwersang hindi natin lubusang maiintindihan. At kapag napagtanto na natin iyon, dapat tayong sumuko.”
“At ano ang iyong kapalaran?” ang tanong ni Apan.
“Makikita mo mamaya.” Halos tila nakangiti ang ibon. “At dahil narito ka, sasagutin ko ang iyong tanong.”
Muling inangat ng ibon ang mga pakpak nito upang ipakita ang mga bola ng apoy. Nag-alala si Apan na masusunog ang kaniyang balahibo sa lapit niya sa apoy, ngunit nagulat siya sa init na bumalot sa kaniyang katawan at kaibuturan.
“Ito ako,” ang sambit ng ibon.
“Ikaw ang apoy?” Sinubukang unawain ni Apan ang sinasabi sa kaniya ng ibon.
“Ako ay apoy at manlilinlang.”
“Ngunit isa kang ibon. Paano ka naging mga bagay na iyon?”
“Tumingala ka,” ang sabi ng ibon. “Malapit na ang oras.”
“Oras ng ano?”
“Ng ulan.”
Sa sandaling iyon, may naramdaman si Apan na patak ng ulan sa kaniyang ulo. At isa pang patak. At isa pa.
Tila nakalimutan na ng ibon ang pag-uusap nila at pumailalang ito patungo sa mga ulap na may dalang ulan.
Sinubukang sumigaw ni Apan upang itanong sa ibon kung ano ang ibig nitong sabihin.
Natanggap niya ang sagot na hinahanap niya sa anyo ng liwanag na halos makabulag.
Naging apoy ang ibon—isang nag-aalab na bola sa kalangitan. Hindi alam ni Apan kung gaano katagal siyang nakatitig sa bola ng apoy. Pagsapit ng bukang-liwayway, naglaho ang liwanag ng apoy at bumalik na si Apan sa kaniyang langkay.
Nasasabik na siyang ikuwento sa kanila ang ibon.
Gayunpaman, dala niya ang bigat ng mga salitang binitiwan ng ibon.
Nakakulong ba tayo sa ating kapalaran?
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In the North, in a place called Lagui, there lived a bird called Apan. Apan and her kind were from the far northeast, but the harsh winters in that land made them migrate southwards to the land of windmills.
One day, as the sun was giving way to the moon, Apan caught a glimpse of a bird she had never seen before. It had been four winters since she had been hatched and she thought she knew all the birds that came to flock in Lagui. The bird was not a kingfisher, a starling, nor a sparrow. It did remind her of the grass owls that hunted near her perch, with its wingspan and face, but the similarities ended there.
None of those birds ever glowed like starlight.
Apan was tired, having spent the whole day foraging for food. That didn’t stop her from flying towards the bird to sate her curiosity.
The bird was not that large, it reminded Apan of the ducks and kites that her kind avoided. Even from far away the bird could be followed which was convenient for Apan. The bird spread its wings and perched on a nearby branch.
As it lifted its wings up Apan saw the source of its glow. Under each of its wings there was a ball of intense fire. Apan wondered how the fire didn’t consume it. She flew low thinking that the bird would not see her and roosted on a branch under the bird.
It seemed like the bird was a statue. The unmoving countenance of it gave Apan chills. “What would this bird do?” she wondered.
“I know you’re there,” it finally spoke.
Apan did not move. She was sure she was in a place where the bird could not see her.
“Come here and we shall talk,” the bird said.
With that, Apan flew above and rested beside the bird. She was not nocturnal and the hours of night felt heavy upon her wings, but she had never felt such exhilaration. It was rare to find something completely new that she could explore.
She faced the bird and asked, “What are you?”
The bird laughed, “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”
It put its wings down, covering the balls of fire.
“I am, like you, a bird.”
“You are not like any kind of bird I have ever seen, and I have been going here for four winters,” said Apan.
“I am a special kind of bird,” it replied.
“Why do you have fire under your wings? How does it not consume you?”
“You are a very curious bird,” it answered, “why do you want to know?”
“Never have I seen such majesty flying through the skies, I would like to tell the other birds of my flock about you.”
“Very well,” said the bird, “I will tell you my story. But first you must answer a question.”
“Of course!” Apan said, “anything to hear your story.”
“What do you believe about destiny?”
Apan was caught off guard. She had not expected this kind of question from the bird. Her kind did not think of grand things such as destiny, they were content to fly to warm places and find their next meals.
And thus she answered:
“I do not know if it exists. Destiny is a word that describes heroes and kings, not a lowly bird such as I.”
The bird laughed. “Do you truly believe that?”
“Yes, I do.”
The bird looked at Apan with pity, “Every living being has a destiny that they follow. To deny that is to deny yourself.”
“What about you? What do you think about destiny?”
“Destiny is like the wind. It can blow with the wild abandon of a hurricane or the smallest of whispers on your feathers. It cannot be denied, it brings a future that would be foolish to ignore.”
Apan fell silent. She could not find the words to reply to the bird.
The bird continued, “All life is part of something much larger. A brief change in the air caused by the flap of our wings could make it so that a fly would end up where it might never have gone. It is clear that all life is affected every day by forces beyond our comprehension. And once we realize that, we must surrender.”
“And what is your destiny?” Apan asked.
“You will see it later.” The bird almost looked like it was smiling. “And since you are here I will answer your question.”
The bird once again raised its wings so that the balls of fireballs were visible. Apan was worried that her feathers would burn being so close to fire, but she was surprised at the warm glow that washed over her form.
“This is what I am,” said the bird.
“You are the fire?” Apan tried to understand what the bird was trying to tell her.
“I am the fire and a deceiver.”
“But you are a bird. How can you be both?”
“Look up,” the bird said, “it is almost time.”
“Time for what?”
“For the rain.”
At that moment Apan could feel a raindrop hit her head. And another. And another.
The bird seemed to forget their conversation and flew high towards the rainclouds.
Apan tried to shout at the bird, to ask what it meant.
She received her answer in a luminescence that nearly blinded her.
The bird became fire, a ball of bright flame hanging in the sky. Apan didn’t know how many hours she had spent staring at the ball of fire. Once the morning sun broke through the twilight the light disappeared and Apan made her way back to her flock.
She couldn’t wait to tell them about the bird.
But the bird’s words weighed heavy on her.
Are we only what our destiny is?
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**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.
Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Maui Felix
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Maui Felix
Inspired by the Sansilmo bird legends from Ilocos and “Sansilmo, the Light Deciever.” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002. and an Interview with Migo Luis (2015)
The Sansilmo Bird Illustration by Alvin Gasga
FB: Art of Alvin