First Watch

The Hands Of Time

The butterfly counts not months but moments, 

and has time enough. - Tagore

I'm in high spirits. I'm turning twelve and graduating valedictorian of my elementary class. In two months, I'll be a high school freshman riding the Blumentritt jeepney to and from Roxas High. A milestone achievement for me! I mumble with a broad grin.

But what makes me very proud and preoccupied as well is my commencement gift of a Waltham wrist watch from Godmother Esang. I love how its gold nugget-style band glistens against my skin. I beam in admiration of the contrast between its black dial and gold-tone face. Look! I show it off to Eldest Brother. It's automatic! He gives me an appropriately impressed smile.

I've been so attached to my new possession that I'd only reluctantly relinquish it on the tocador dresser to take a bath. But most other times, I'd wear it with a sense of dizzy exhilaration, walking around the house as if I were walking on air, swinging my arms back and forth.

If I could, I would have flown, punched through walls, and gone faster than a speeding locomotive to single-handedly give the answer to anyone who dares to formulate a question with the word time in it. But not without ceremony. I'd furrow my brows as I narrow my eyes thoughtfully and peer over my Waltham's face. Planning my pause to perfection, I then loudly clear my throat and answer grandly in my most professional voice, Hrmpp... it's 3 pm - or whatever the time happens to be.

Ask me what family activity is forthcoming and, with every ounce of authority I can muster, I'd announce, Time for dinner! or Dance-O-Rama is starting! - then walk away giggling like a maniac.

Have I mentioned that I also wear my watch to bed? I'd lie awake as long as I can and with an outstretched arm, let the half-light glimmer on it. As the day ebbs, I turn toward the shy moon. I like watching it stare down at my Waltham.

Then, at that fluid boundary between night and dawn, the hands of my watch dutifully point to six o'clock. Tandang rooster in assonance lets out a loud, Kikirikí! Up on my light feet, I tug back the curtains and squint at the small portion of the sun's rays illuminating the sky. The fainter stars have begun to disappear. I hurriedly wake up the brothers. Gising na! 

Later, as Mum sings tonelessly to herself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, I'd excitedly assure her, I'll keep an eye on the time so Dadee won't be late for work. Um... and also, I continue breathlessly, I'll be sure to let you know when it's time to tune in to 'Gulong Ng Palad.' Literally translated as 'Wheel of Fortune,' 'Gulong' is her favorite afternoon soap opera. I can tell she appreciates my over-indulgent helpfulness because she nods in seeming satisfaction.

With a sense of elation, I give my Waltham a gentle pat, as my eyes dance to the transparency of the morning.