A Song for the Spirits of October

October has proven quite eventful and we’re not even half way through. I don’t even know where to start, I’m telling you!

Am I honestly rhyming? Perhaps, I should just sing a song! Or was that just timing? Fuck it, this won’t take too long …

Salamat, Boracay!

I will sing first of the island whose name is known across our land: they call her Boracay, the jewel of Aklan!

The sun and the sea

First sight I saw were your waters blue, and immediately hailed the sunset, too …

... and wrote the names of the Gods who nurture you, whose wonders no man can ever undo.

… and wrote the names of the Gods who nurture you, whose wonders no man can ever undo.

Salamat, Sangkadiwataan ng Boracay!

Of course, I did not neglect to sing of the countless diwatà, too …


… those spirits who keep your sands white …


… and your waters clear blue.


I pray that you do not forget this cheerful and pious guest …

My feet in the sand

… who walked across your sands and in their beauty was possessed.

With arms stretched sea-wards

With arms stretched sea-wards, I sang in their praise …

My feet in the sea

… those gods and un-gods who made pleasant my days.

For the One who brings the sweetest serendipities, only the sweetest gifts are given. Hail, luck-bringing son of Maia!

Nor shall I forget to sing of the Traveller, too. From beginning to end, no moment was blue. Our trip was smooth and safe throughout; blissful were all the moments in between and about.

As soon as I came back from my trip to the sea: I went straight to the temple of Maa Bhavani, to sing and feast with the Sindhi and Punjabi who were then celebrating the Maha Navratri.

God is a mother. A fierce and mighty mother.

There I sat and sang of Durga the Great Mother: a slayer of countless devils, one after the other.

Parvati's family

Her beautiful family, I adored at once, too.

Jai Sita Ram!

… even Sita and Ram who are Lakshmi and Vishnu.

God is a little boy with an elephant head. A cute, blissful, elephant-headed boy who clears the way for good fortune and stomps his big feet to chase away fears.

The elephant-headed God I did not forget. With him, not one of our fears are ever a threat.

Whoever said God was just a bearded man in the sky could not be any more wrong.

I sang to the rest of the Gods, of course; no doubt just as loud. Whoever said God was just a bearded man on a cloud?

Here, we don't care if you're Sikh or Hindu or whatever.

In my sixth year with the temple, I could not be more proud. There, nobody cares if you’re Sikh or Hindu, or of stranger crowd.

The langar is always good.

The food was superb as it always has been …

The House, of course, had its own celebrations, albeit less luxurious.

Of course, our own shrine at home was nothing shabby for the Queen!

Soon after we sang to the Mother of Hindustan, to my own city, I then ran.

¡Viva Nuestra Señora del Pilar!

It was the feast of my hometown’s own Mother, perched on a pillar unlike none. Here, she is Mary the Mother, not unlike Isis and her son.

The Lady of a thousand names dances to mixed Hispanic and indigenous beats.

We carried her on our backs …


… and danced all day, too.


She was beautiful as always in royal purple and blue.

I wish I could sing more, but alas, I’m bad with rhyme. Continuing would be a bore, but I wish it was worth your time.


3 thoughts on “A Song for the Spirits of October

  1. Pingback: Eventful Octobers | Under Two Trees

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