Held Up, Held Down
I’d like to think I was almost held up weeks ago.
It was broad daylight. I was performing my morning routine, riding a jeep towards Agham, still half-asleep, when the unthinkable almost happened.
One of jeepney’s unwritten rules is that passengers should be equally spaced, or at least seated within comfortable distances of each other. This just follows logic, and is convenient too if someone from the far end wants his fare to reach the driver. To my surprise, an old man seemed to be ignorant of the “rule,” and inched his way towards me, not only when new passengers ride the vehicle, but at any given opportunity. This strange action of his prompted me to also inch away from him, but I’m running out of space.
Normally, my mind is drifting towards random thoughts, about what happened the day before, or planning what to do for the next few hours. For some reason, I was alert that day, and I noticed that this old man (let’s label him Brutus) held something with his left hand (he was at my left): a nail cutter with one of the pointy edges out. That’s when I became tense: Brutus could have mistaken me for a high schooler, and he wants my phone or money, or both. Even though the nail cutter cannot do any serious harm, it can create a penetrating feeling when pressed with force against flesh. Of course I couldn’t give Brutus the benefit of the doubt – that he may had just wanted to perform manicure on himself while the jeep is travelling at x kilometers per hour – so I transferred to the jeep’s other side while it was moving, to the surprise of my two new seatmates. Better safe than sorry, I guess.
Perhaps I was that paranoid, but nobody else took notice of the minor weapon that Brutus had in hand. I had the urge to whisper to my seatmates that Brutus in front of us could be manong holdaper, but they might think I’m crazy. It took a while before Brutus hid the edgy part of the nail cutter – thank heavens – but no, the nail cutter was only the appetizer: he then unfolded a metal scissor that’s about four inches long. That weapon can kill, I said to myself. Adrenaline pumped so fast, but maybe again, my seatmates sensed nothing. Any minute, Brutus might attack. Agham felt like a bazillion miles away. This became my longest ride to school. Brutus was toying with his scissors, as if he was consciously torturing me psychologically (reaction of seatmates: none!). I was trying to be calm, thinking of the possible scenarios. If I alight immediately, it should be somewhere populated, and I should be able to transfer to a cab. But he can always alight with me, and even pretend he knows me, and I might be reduced to a helpless victim knowing what he possessed. Well, I can run for my life, but the non-athlete that I am, he can surely catch up. Creating a commotion (“Tulong!!!!”) was also sort of out of the picture, but who knows.
If I stay in the jeep, and he attacks, I was thinking of giving him a supreme kick from my titanium-enhanced right leg. But Brutus doesn’t look like he’s a weakling, so he can always retort to more violence which can lead to a slashed face, or a misplaced ear, or a dripping stomach, all belonging to me. So, I deduced, if he attempts to get anything from me, I should give whatever he needs: my phone, my wallet, maybe even my bag. I have always told this to people, but I doubt if it’s that easy to let go of the things you own. Yes, your life is more valuable, but given the tension, people cannot think rationally.
Fortunately, Brutus alighted the vehicle way before we reached Agham. I imagined him giving me one last slash that will leave me permanently wounded, but perhaps he gave up, knowing his ex-future victim was aware of his plans. Sigh of relief.
Processing the whole incident before I reached Agham, I realized that inasmuch as I will find it hard to give up my phone and wallet (filled with important cards but minimal cash), I will have a harder time giving up my bag, mainly because the quiz that I earnestly checked the night before were placed inside, and they weren’t recorded yet. Haha, it’s minutes before my “death” moment, and I’m still consumed by my work.
The rest of the morning left me really sad for a lot of things, but not because I almost lost valuables. This is one in-your-face moment that reminded me of the dangerous world we are living in, and we commuters are somehow more subject to this specific type of evil. Kapag oras mo, oras mo na, as they say. But my commuting students still have a lot of dreams to be fulfilled, and losing them early will be too unfair.
Unfair. Looking at the greater scheme of things, Brutus and the rest of his tribe do not perform their illegal acts just for the heck of it, but probably because they have families to support (sigh, benefit of the doubt for Brutus). Given that this is a dangerous world, this is also a world of unequal opportunities. Well, it’s not my fault that a random Brutus couldn’t find a decent job, but to a certain extreme extent, it’s not his, too. I really do hope that the government can solve important matters like these, although I know each citizen is also responsible.
Still, Brutus doesn’t have any right to inflict harm to others. Filipinos’ daily dose of news will never be devoid of petty crimes, leading to the desensitizing of the audience. It seems snatching a phone is the norm now, but it shouldn’t be. Since we cannot plead to these Brutuses to spare us commuters, let’s just be more vigilant while on the road. Meaning, drop the daydreaming until you reach your destination.
Be safe.
It was broad daylight. I was performing my morning routine, riding a jeep towards Agham, still half-asleep, when the unthinkable almost happened.
One of jeepney’s unwritten rules is that passengers should be equally spaced, or at least seated within comfortable distances of each other. This just follows logic, and is convenient too if someone from the far end wants his fare to reach the driver. To my surprise, an old man seemed to be ignorant of the “rule,” and inched his way towards me, not only when new passengers ride the vehicle, but at any given opportunity. This strange action of his prompted me to also inch away from him, but I’m running out of space.
Normally, my mind is drifting towards random thoughts, about what happened the day before, or planning what to do for the next few hours. For some reason, I was alert that day, and I noticed that this old man (let’s label him Brutus) held something with his left hand (he was at my left): a nail cutter with one of the pointy edges out. That’s when I became tense: Brutus could have mistaken me for a high schooler, and he wants my phone or money, or both. Even though the nail cutter cannot do any serious harm, it can create a penetrating feeling when pressed with force against flesh. Of course I couldn’t give Brutus the benefit of the doubt – that he may had just wanted to perform manicure on himself while the jeep is travelling at x kilometers per hour – so I transferred to the jeep’s other side while it was moving, to the surprise of my two new seatmates. Better safe than sorry, I guess.
Perhaps I was that paranoid, but nobody else took notice of the minor weapon that Brutus had in hand. I had the urge to whisper to my seatmates that Brutus in front of us could be manong holdaper, but they might think I’m crazy. It took a while before Brutus hid the edgy part of the nail cutter – thank heavens – but no, the nail cutter was only the appetizer: he then unfolded a metal scissor that’s about four inches long. That weapon can kill, I said to myself. Adrenaline pumped so fast, but maybe again, my seatmates sensed nothing. Any minute, Brutus might attack. Agham felt like a bazillion miles away. This became my longest ride to school. Brutus was toying with his scissors, as if he was consciously torturing me psychologically (reaction of seatmates: none!). I was trying to be calm, thinking of the possible scenarios. If I alight immediately, it should be somewhere populated, and I should be able to transfer to a cab. But he can always alight with me, and even pretend he knows me, and I might be reduced to a helpless victim knowing what he possessed. Well, I can run for my life, but the non-athlete that I am, he can surely catch up. Creating a commotion (“Tulong!!!!”) was also sort of out of the picture, but who knows.
If I stay in the jeep, and he attacks, I was thinking of giving him a supreme kick from my titanium-enhanced right leg. But Brutus doesn’t look like he’s a weakling, so he can always retort to more violence which can lead to a slashed face, or a misplaced ear, or a dripping stomach, all belonging to me. So, I deduced, if he attempts to get anything from me, I should give whatever he needs: my phone, my wallet, maybe even my bag. I have always told this to people, but I doubt if it’s that easy to let go of the things you own. Yes, your life is more valuable, but given the tension, people cannot think rationally.
Fortunately, Brutus alighted the vehicle way before we reached Agham. I imagined him giving me one last slash that will leave me permanently wounded, but perhaps he gave up, knowing his ex-future victim was aware of his plans. Sigh of relief.
Processing the whole incident before I reached Agham, I realized that inasmuch as I will find it hard to give up my phone and wallet (filled with important cards but minimal cash), I will have a harder time giving up my bag, mainly because the quiz that I earnestly checked the night before were placed inside, and they weren’t recorded yet. Haha, it’s minutes before my “death” moment, and I’m still consumed by my work.
The rest of the morning left me really sad for a lot of things, but not because I almost lost valuables. This is one in-your-face moment that reminded me of the dangerous world we are living in, and we commuters are somehow more subject to this specific type of evil. Kapag oras mo, oras mo na, as they say. But my commuting students still have a lot of dreams to be fulfilled, and losing them early will be too unfair.
Unfair. Looking at the greater scheme of things, Brutus and the rest of his tribe do not perform their illegal acts just for the heck of it, but probably because they have families to support (sigh, benefit of the doubt for Brutus). Given that this is a dangerous world, this is also a world of unequal opportunities. Well, it’s not my fault that a random Brutus couldn’t find a decent job, but to a certain extreme extent, it’s not his, too. I really do hope that the government can solve important matters like these, although I know each citizen is also responsible.
Still, Brutus doesn’t have any right to inflict harm to others. Filipinos’ daily dose of news will never be devoid of petty crimes, leading to the desensitizing of the audience. It seems snatching a phone is the norm now, but it shouldn’t be. Since we cannot plead to these Brutuses to spare us commuters, let’s just be more vigilant while on the road. Meaning, drop the daydreaming until you reach your destination.
Be safe.
posted by mardan at 1:37 PM
1 Comments:
Hi Sir, this is Cam. Napadaan lang ako sa blog mo, but I have to say, tawang tawa ako sa entry mo na 'to. And I mean that in a good way. :)) Kung kasama mo lang ako dun sa jeep, ganun din siguro yung iniisip ko! Haha. Sana lang bumalik na sa bundok sina Brutus and the rest of his tribe. (if that even made any sense)
Yun lang. Tc. :D
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