Today, a young friend from UPLB Department of Humanities died. And how else can the weather cooperate more than by dark clouds and rainfall.
I usually do not write about something that I have just experienced or thought about. I let the safe distance of time pass, for me to write without the hang up of emotions. But today, everything just conspires to keep me in the mood for writing about Cesar Minor.
It’s inevitable to talk about the last time you saw the dead man alive. It’s the close contact of this reality and the next; like your portal to a dimension where the person is going. It is also the moment that concludes your co-existence with the person. It is one defining moment.
The last time I spoke with Cesar was after I returned to my former office to get all the stuff I left. Papers, file cases, notebooks. My brother and I were carrying four loaded bags of these when I saw him talking to a student on the staircase. I said hi and he said goodbye to the student in the middle of their conversation. I heard him excuse himself so he could help me carry my baggages.
While we were walking, he talked about his love life and all the things close to his heart, to my pleasant surprise. I only knew of Cesar for a few months and I can remember only one incident when we had a long talk at Olivarez while waiting for the Cubao-bound bus. Oh there was another, when we were stuck in a room for one whole day waiting for students to enlist in Humanities courses. He’s one endearing person because you can just sit beside him and let him talk without annoying you or boring you as he entertain you with the latest buzz about Juday or that award-winning book he dug in bookay. He is a refreshing reminder that the academe can be a wacky place for the meeting of minds.
And now, early this morning, Cesar’s death came to me as an offensive joke because he’s one of the Department’s talented geniuses who can actually rule the world with humble royalty, given enough time.
But Time was not generous to him.