This is is one of those things that I do *just because*. Y’know, as in, “just because I feel like it” and “just because I don’t have anything else to do but go home, have dinner and laze around until 12 mn at which time i’ll go to sleep” and “heck, just because”.
With a nod to my virtual-mentor-who-doesn’t-know-that-he-is, Neil Gaiman. Some of the stories in his book, “Smoke and Mirrors”, inspired me to do this.
Disclaimer: this was done with absolutely no research, I’m borrowing freely from vaguely-remembered tales, and all allusions to actual Philippine myths come from half-remembered stories dating as far back as my grade school days. Which is to say, in the 1980s.
the story of creation
And so it was that Bathala, after creating the Earth, and the Plants, and the Animals, decided to create new Beings to populate his world. Beings that will kinda look like him, talk like him, and think like him. Sort of.
And so he decided to plant a Bamboo plant. And this bamboo plant grew tall and great. And it rose up almost to the sky. And onto this bamboo plant Bathala blew his Breath. And when he was done, he rested.
And so after one day and one night, Bathala asked his favorite bird, a strong and mighty white Crow, to go to the great Bamboo, and peck it open with his beak. “Go, my faithful one”, said Bathala to the crow. “I feel that my new beings - children of my own likeness - are ready to face the world. Go and give them my greetings and my messages of love and acceptance. But hurry - if we are too late in opening the great Bamboo, they might not be as perfect as I planned”.
And so the strong and mighty white Crow left the presence of Bathala.
But as usually happens when one leaves the presence of Bathala, the crow had second thoughts.
“Perfect?, he asked himself. My Creator thinks these new beings will be perfect? And he even calls them his own children!”
And so the crow was filled with jealousy, and with bitterness.
And the crow, in his jealousy and bitterness, decided not to go to the great Bamboo immediately, thinking that the new beings will be trapped in it, and will fester, and will be imperfect. And because they will not be perfect, His Creator will not love them more than him.
And the crow flew across the fresh new Earth and hid in a big, dark cave.
And so another day and another night passed.
Unknown to him, the great Bamboo, containing the children of Bathala born out of his own Breath, cracked open, and revealed a strong Man a beautiful Woman. And they, seeing each other without the presence of the messenger from Bathala, became ashamed of their nakedness, and they hid themselves - she behind a bush and he behind a tree.
And so another day and another night passed.
And when Bathala called for his Children, crying “Malakas! Where are you my strong son?” and “Maganda! Where are you my beautiful daughter?”, they were both nowhere to be found, because they had hidden themselves from Bathala, and have begot other children of their own.
“Oh, woe, woe to my Children!” Bathala cried. “Were they not told that they are my children? Where they not given my greetings, and my messages of love and acceptance?”
And after a while, Bathala asked: “Where is the Crow that I sent to open the great Bamboo and greet my children with my greetings”.
But no one knew where the great and might white Crow was.
And so Bathala looked near and far, and up and down, and all over the Earth until he found the crow shaking in fear inside the cave, for he had heard Bathala’s sighs and cries and trembled because he knew that he did wrong.
And when Bathala found him the white Crow had turned himself black, in a sad and failed attempt to hide in the darkness of the cave.
And Bathala cursed him, even when the crow started to ask for mercy and say “Ack, but I did not know, I did not undersatnd.”, all he could say was “Ack. Ack.”
Bathala cursed the crow, and sighed for his children.
And so this story tells us why today, Bathala’s children are ashamed of their nakedness.
And why they are always in doubt if they are truly Bathala’s children.
This story also tells us why today the crow is black, instead of the white bird he was once.
And why you never find him in the places of worship.
And when, if you do see him, all you could hear are the sounds of his great guilt, and his great regret.
ACK. ACK. ACK.
Posted under Navel-Gazing
