15 August 2007
Angry rains are pelting hard in the metropolis this morning. I was lucky enough to hail a cab just before the downpour started. It saved me from one more excuse of arriving late in my humdrum office. Plus, it earned me one free Starbucks coffee from my estranged boss.
Prayers are answered quickly these days. Just yesterday, I noted that Catholic churches are pleading the heavens for rain and now here they come. Robust, they come tumbling down as requested by the faithful ready to replenish the diminishing water supply in the metro. Only problem is, the blessed rain inadvertently brings it with the accursed flood which jams traffic and creates a virtual hell for everyday office goers like me.
So when you wish for something and it is granted, you normally leap for joy and praise the Almighty for being such a good God to you. But somehow, my successful wish doesn't quite give me the satisfaction I'm looking for. In theory, I know that the desired rain will deliver its expected results and save this country from the dry spell it is in. I should be quite contented that it will serve as the stopgap solution to the perennial problem our government seemingly has no means of ending. Regardless though, lives will be lost, counted as mere statistics stripped of its inherent human, emotional value. Aptly, a Russian leader whose names escapes me at the moment thus said, "One death is a tragedy but more than that, it is mere statistics".
Take your pick then, the torrential rain or the parched hungry lands. It shouldn't be that hard.
14 August 2007
If you've heard mass these days, you should be quite familiar with the above mentioned term. Literally, it is a prayer for the rain to come. What is happening to the world? That we have to pray for the rain to come during the rainy season. Maybe I should have watched that sponsored global-warming flick at the MOA and listen to Michael Moore and Al Gore talk about an impending environmental disaster. Maybe it is true, that the end of the world is near. Even the Hindus believe that we are currenly living on the last cycle of the universe.
When I was in grade school, on sixth grade, my classmates and I pledged to meet again at year 2000. That year was the dreaded year back then, the year of the world's end. Seven years later, the end is nowhere near in sight. Yet, we have this. A world at wits end on how to explain sudden extreme weather changes. And no, global-warming doesn't quite fit as an explanation. The word sounds benign, so harmless. Not quite the natural disaster-racked world, this Earth has become. So when we begin to pray for rain and literally plead for the high heavens for it come when its suppose to be superfluous at this point, you suddenly begin to really wonder.
Soon, we should start teaching children to sing their nursery songs like this, "Rain, rain please don't go away..."