“To The Kindest Soul I Ever Met”


To the kindest soul I ever met,

Life can be such an arduous ride. Some people get the hardest brunt of it, though. The best part of it, however, is when you find someone who really cares. And then, life can seem a bit better–only because they’re there. Continue reading “To The Kindest Soul I Ever Met”

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“Wanted: Website Traffic”


During my dragged-out days such as this, when I’m still waiting for my more-than-a-year-old site to get its own regular traffic, I find myself peeking into the blog, again and again and again. You know, that circular vacuum when all you seem to do is log in and out of the web, wishing and praying (seriously) that people take notice of your content and actually engage with you through comments, suggestions, and reactions (Not that this is a piteous passive-aggressive cry for attention, okay? Heheheh).

Continue reading “Wanted: Website Traffic”

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“Moringa Oleifera: The Giving Tree”

Malunggay tree
Our malunggay tree in its bounteous glory.
Photo Credits: Jaisha

During these lean months when everything’s just icky wet and typhoons are always a threat, there’s this one generous tree that keeps me and my family alive. Nay, it isn’t a tree of gold, a money tree, nor one that offers luxurious beauty like those classic stunners that fill up the yards of rich landowners like mahogany, narra, and ficus. It isn’t even the tropical ensemble that normally populates travel brochures and similar tourist advertisements like the beauteous mango tree that grows that delicious fruit, revered and sought-after the whole world over. No, our tree is the humble malunggay (Moringa oleifera or drumstick tree).

Continue reading “Moringa Oleifera: The Giving Tree”

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“A Writer Cooks With Paper”

Using paper as fuel for cooking
Photo Credits: Jaisha

Here I was again, needing to cook dinner for the family. I had everything prepared–the ingredients, the cooking utensils, my tummy yelling of hunger (ooops!). The petrol tank was replaced earlier today; hence, I knew that I would be able to finish cooking in no time at all. Well, for those who don’t know, here in the Philippines, a cooking stove is fueled by a petrol receptacle, called LPG or Liquefied Petroleum Gas, that’s directly connected to it via a rubber tube and a control valve. Continue reading “A Writer Cooks With Paper”

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“When You’re Forced To Dress A Chicken”


There are times in life when one is coerced to transcend one’s limits in order to survive. Sounds very cliche, doesn’t it? Although, seriously, I was forced to kill a chicken today! Continue reading “When You’re Forced To Dress A Chicken”
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“Providence”

“It’s just another dreary day,” she reminds herself, as she forces her body to get out of bed. “Nothing will happen today,” she whispers, dejectedly, willing herself not to cry.

She hastily fixes her bed and takes a deep breath, steadying her mind, if not her heart, as she goes downstairs to help make breakfast. “If there’s even some food left in the fridge,” she mumbles quietly.

These past months have been horrible. Her contract with her old company ended and there wasn’t any other job waiting for her. Being the breadwinner of the family was tough but it was even harder because she couldn’t find anything that could tide them over. What with all the bills to pay–the electric bill, the water bill, the rent–and the money to buy food, mainly.

She ambles over to the kitchen and finds her mom mixing something in a bowl. “Good morning, mama,” she whispers. She opens the fridge and finds several packets of food inside–a tray of eggs, a pack of biscuits, a carton of milk, some vegetables. That startles her. She looks questioningly at her mother. “Ma, why do we have food?”

Her mother smiles, gently. “Your brother sent a bit of cash to help,” she explains, “There’s some coffee and bread here. You need to eat. You’re getting a lot thinner, Trisha,” she adds as she hands Trisha a steaming mug of coffee.

She accepts the mug and starts eating some of the bread. She cannot hide the smile that slowly brightens up her face. “Thank you, God,” she silently prays.

“At least, we have some food,” her mom tells her. “Yes, thank God. We have food,” she seconds. The heavy feeling lifts up a bit and she feels lighter than she did earlier. Surely, this situation won’t be forever. She knows that God will soon provide her with a solution. She only needs to believe that. Because, He always does.

©Diwa

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Almost




Not replying to text messages makes one get old very fast,” reads the latest beep from you. I can’t help but chuckle; though, I decide to continue my silence.

The next minute, you flood my inbox with funny pictures of yourself and I’m laughing so hard that I nearly forget that I’m having an awful day.


You don’t know how to give up, do you? So, I find myself sending an answer. Almost.

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