Republic of the Philippines Department of Education – National Capital Region Division of City Schools – Quezon City

Quezon City Science High School (Regional Science High School for NCR) Golden Acres Rd. cor. Misamis Street, Bago Bantay, Quezon City 1105

DEVELOPMENTAL READING Literary Analysis Task Prompt

GENERAL DIRECTIONS The following are two (2) poems and one (1) short story that you will analyze based on the questions that go after them. You are supposed to work in pairs or triads, and will have to produce a unified and cohesive output only. This is due on 2 November 2015, Monday (unless the government declares a holiday on the said date). You will adhere to the following conventions in fulfilling the task.

1) Output length: Maximum of five (5) pages, which will contain the following: a) Cover Page (your names and section) b) Page 2: Analysis of first poem

a. Sampaguita Song: for a suki at Quirino Highway by Marjorie Evasco-Pernia c) Page 3: Analysis of second poem

a. To God by Faisal Kamandobat (translated by Joan Suyenaga) d) Page 4: Analysis of a short story

a. The Man Who Combs through Heartache (translated by Joan Suyenaga) e) References (sources for the analysis, if applicable – you may look at the internet for

the author’s background, if it helps you analyze the poem.)

2) Font and Font Size: a. GARAMOND (this font) b. Size 12

3) Margins: 1 inch margin on all sides (default in MS Word 2010 and later)

4) Spacing: 1.5 line spacing (right click – select “font” from the drop-down menu and adjust

“Spacing” to 1.5 lines).

5) It is recommended that you answer in a cohesive essay only. It shows how you’ve mastered your lessons in English (cohesion, subject-verb agreement, transition devices)

GOOD LUCK! Jayson Donor Zabala Subject Facilitator

POEM 1: SAMPAGUITA SONG (for a suki at Quirino Highway) by Marjorie Evasco-Pernia We see you every night intercept The narrow chance at highway Living, the jammed traffic of your days Run-down by those who do not see Your flag of white Small flowers. Your shanks gleam thin at the intersection, Beating the stop light to the edge Of danger. Sampaguita, Sir! Sampaguita, Ma’am! Sariwa, mabango, Piso po ang tatlo. You thrust brown hands at me Flower-laden, smelling like old Memories, tender at the recall Of gardens in a province We’ve left And miss. Back home the sampaguitas Dry in an earthen dish Leaving the scent of warm Brown palms that offered An extra garland for Buena Mano.

ANALYSIS QUESTIONS:

[SUBJECT] Who is the subject of the poem? How is he/she significant to the author? What lines will prove your claim?

[CONTEXT, PURPOSE] What social issue is tackled by the author in this poem?

[ATTITUDE] How does the author feel about the poem? What lines made you think such?

[IMAGES] How does the author shed light to the dangers of this social issue (refer to context)? What lines evoke emotions in the senses?

[DICTION] Aside from examining a social issue, what does the author look back into? What lines indicate this?

POEM 2: TO GOD by Faisal Kamandobat translated by Joan Suyenaga i cannot yet believe in you although you are able to move the sun to ignite rocks to create animals from stone and you mustn’t accept me although i can create suffering through words transform earth into pots and play with the world in my imagination your existence and your absence, god is equally remote in the darkness of my fate i live in a world of symbols seizing wild daydreams confirming uncertainties in raucous silence if you enter my world your magnificence will remain but a trace your power will be lacerated by my savagery like one bird dissolving into a thousand birds your existence and absence, god is equally remote in the darkness of my fate

ANALYSIS QUESTIONS:

[ATTITUDE] What does the author feel towards the subject?

[CONTEXT] What could have been the author’s religious background? How has it affected the poem’s message in general?

[DICTION] The author claims to “create suffering through words”; “transform earth into pots” and “play with the world in my imagination”. How can you make sense of this? How does this further prove the author’s belief (or disbelief)?

[PURPOSE] What is the author trying to emphasize in this poem? What lines support your claim?

SHORT STORY THE MAN WHO COMBS THROUGH HEARTACHE translated by Joan Suyenaga The old woman wearing a kebaya cried silently. She gazed out at the open sea, at the little waves chasing each other through the water. In the past, she and her three children often spent time here. Just the four of them; because her husband, who had brought them to Aceh, had passed away when Din, her youngest child, was just learning how to walk. Just four of them. Running between the tips of the waves as they tumbled in. Playing in the sand, racing to chase the fishermen’s boats that had come ashore. From the edge of the sea, they would enjoy looking at the beautiful houses located not far from their home. Houses of rich people, they would say, while imagining what it would feel like to live there. “Your feet would have to be clean,” said Yanti, the oldest child, who was known for being neat. “You’d always be eating good food!” added Azhar, the sturdily-bodied second child. Meanwhile, Din, the youngest, remained silent. His eyes were glued to the houses. Perhaps he was comparing those solid structures with their own semi-permanent home. A single room, most of which was built with woven bamboo panels. Their mother had given them everything she could. Taking any job to put her children through school, even though it was not enough to pay for higher education. Only the youngest, who now worked in Banda, was able to graduate from a university. The others only made it through high school. Time passed so quickly. The two sunken eyes still watched the sunset behind the row of coconut trees. It felt not so long ago that she and her children had played there, watching people climbing the palms and picking the coconuts that were bunched up at the top. The old woman in the kebaya

ANALYSIS QUESTIONS:

[CONTEXT] What significant (real-life) event happened in the story?

[SUBJECT] Who are the characters in the story? How are they described? Cite lines or paragraphs from the short story to prove your point.

[ATTITUDE] How does each character interact with each other? What is the dominant feeling of the main characters toward each other?

[IMAGES, ATTITUDE] What are the dominant emotions in the poem? What are the lines that indicate this? What senses are stimulated in this story? As a reader, how did your senses react to reading the short story?

[PURPOSE] What is the author trying to expose in this short story? What culture/situation is the author trying to strengthen or modify, if there is any?

wiped away her tears. She didn’t know why the sadness became heavier each year. Perhaps it was her age, she thought. Or perhaps it was loneliness. The loneliness had started since the children graduated from high school. It was as if they were racing each other to leave her, though their reasons were understandable. Work. The time had passed quickly. All of a sudden they were in another stage of their lives: marriage and children. She should be understanding and not feel sorry for herself. Maybe they were busy. The woman continued to sob soundlessly. Her wrinkled cheeks were wet. The celebrations held at the end of the fasting month had passed twice, but their family had not gathered together. The children did not remember her anymore. Today she had woken up very early and cleaned her house, then cooked her best meal. Today was her birthday. In the past, she and her children always celebrated their birthdays. Not because they wanted a Western lifestyle, but because they rarely ate good food, and enjoying delicious food meant more when they did it to celebrate the birthday of someone in the family. The woman in the kebaya had saved conscientiously, little by little, so that her children could eat something special several times each year. And today was her birthday. The old woman in the kebaya closed the wooden window shutters. She stopped hoping. One, two tears dropped. The children didn’t remember her anymore! The man pressed heavily on the gas pedal so that it felt as if the car was flying. He was late. He should have been there yesterday. He kept looking at his watch. He couldn’t wait to get there. He wanted to see Ma, to beg for her forgiveness for being late. His longing to see her was mixed with a heavy dose of guilt, imaging the woman who gave birth to him waiting fruitlessly. “I can’t go, Din. My husband, Abang, is still busy with his work.

He can’t leave,” Yanti had said yesterday over the phone. “Give my love to Ma.” Din just nodded, while in his heart he counted: it’s been two years since Yanti has been home from Medan. Meanwhile, his older brother Azhar had a lengthy yet unclear reason not to come, but the essence was the same. “I can’t go, Din. Just you, okay?” In fact, it was Yanti and Azhar who had asked him to postpone his visit. “Just one day, Din. I’m still trying to find the time to speak with Abang. If I can’t go today, we’ll go early tomorrow.” Din breathed a resentful sigh. If he had known it would be like this, he would have gone by himself yesterday, especially since everything was ready. It was true, he wasn’t clever with words like his sister and brother were, but he had harbored this dream for a long time. Ever since he had realized that Ma stored this wish away in the deepest corner of her heart, although she had never voiced it aloud. This was also the reason Din didn’t want to get married yet. He could see how his two siblings had been stolen away by the routines of family life and paid less and less attention to Ma. “My kid is sick. If I force him to go, how can he recuperate at Ma’s house?” “It’s right at the end of the month and money is tight, Din.” Whether it was the end of the month or not, their mother had almost never asked for anything. It was enough for her three precious treasures to visit. Her old eyes would quickly light up. “My wife isn’t feeling well, she has a persistant headache. Tell Ma that I’m sorry.” “My husband won’t let me go, Din. There’s an event at the governor’s mansion. He couldn’t go without me, could he?” Poor Ma. Surely she missed them. Din, thirty-three years old, pressed harder on the gas pedal. He was determined. He had to see Ma’s face at sunrise.

The sound of praying from the mosque had just ended when his old car pulled to a stop. The man glanced towards the calm-looking sea. This ocean stored the memories of their childhood. It was the ocean that could prove how determined Ma had been in raising her three children. Din knocked on the door as he mumbled his greetings. There was the sound of sandals being dragged across the floor from the back of the house. Presently, the door opened and the figure of an old woman wrapped in a shabby kebaya blinked at him. She hugged him silently. “Where are you taking me?” Din just smiled. He carefully guided Ma to the car. “It’s not far. Just be calm, Ma.” The woman in the kebaya didn’t ask any more questions. She looked straight ahead. No one knew how her heart leapt with pride. Her son, Din, had become a success. He could take his Ma for a ride in a car. “Not too fast, Din.” Din smiled, turning his face towards Ma. He gently kissed her forehead, so lined with age. “Be calm, Ma.” Din, her youngest child, was indeed different from the others. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t yet married. Compared with the others, he was more attentive. Only Din had loyally visited her in the past two years. “Where were you yesterday, Din? I waited for you until sunset.” Din turned the steering wheel. The car moved slowly. Along one side of the road, the ocean waves rolled in gently. He was here with her now, but the feeling of guilt because yesterday he had made her wait still weighed heavily on his heart. He felt as if he had become Amad Rhang Manyang, the disloyal son resembling Malin Kundang in that Acehnese myth he so often objected to. In the story, the mother had cruelly cursed her ungrateful son. It was difficult to imagine mothers in Aceh as heartless as that. Impossible.

“Yesterday Kak Yanti and Bang Azhar …” Din started to explain. Ma nodded as she listened. Din’s eyes glanced away from the road in front of him. His Ma hadn’t changed. This Javanese woman who had lived in this foreign place for so long still wore a kebaya. When he asked her why she still wore the wrapped batik skirt and kebaya, even though the clothes hampered her movements, the old woman answered briefly. “This is how your father first saw me, Din.” Din admired Ma. Her hard work and determination in raising her three children was extraordinary. For him, Ma’s decision not to marry again was proof of her total dedication to her chosen path. Everything for her children. It was truly ironic that when her children were capable of repaying her devotion, they did not give of themselves so totally. Din sighed deeply. He should spend more time with Ma. He should. But his work was demanding and the out-of-town assignments left him with little time. And, he was often exhausted and light-headed. But Ma was getting older. Soon the car stopped. Ma got out with a puzzled look. “Hm, where are you taking me, Din?” A white house stood amongst other larger houses. They had often looked at the houses in this elite district, while their feet were soaking in seawater. “You’re taking me to propose to a girl, aren’t you?” Din shook his head. He guided Ma to the front door of a house. “This is your house, Ma,” he whispered in her ear. Ma looked at him with disbelief. Her heart was pounding. No. She should not cry. He had bought this house to make her happy. Ma would no longer live alone in a one-room hut made of woven bamboo panels. She had spent so many years there. She needed a

healthier place, a place that was more comfortable, where she could wait peacefully for them to visit. “Din…” The man nodded. He showed her around the house. The white house had three bedrooms. “So that Yanti can bring her children to stay here, Ma.” “Ya… ya…” Ma nodded. She was speechless. She had never thought that Din, who never spoke much, would buy her a house. “Now, that other room is for Azhar and his wife when they come.” Ma nodded again. Worry brushed passed her face. “Do you really have the money to buy this, Din?” Ma asked after they had silently admired the new home. Din rubbed his mother’s back. “Don’t use someone else’s money,” she said. “You don’t have to worry.” With that reassurance, Din returned to his car. The sun began to push up into the sky as Din started the engine. Ma watched him from the front of the house, waving. Din waved back with a bright smile and a feeling of longing that had not yet been satisfied. He wanted to finish everything that day, so that Ma could move into her new house. He didn’t plan to leave her for long. Just a few hours to go to the city to buy new furniture for her. The inhabitants of this fishing village, if there are any left, may know this thirty year old man with the troubled face. His eyes are glazed. Two days after the disaster, he emerged from the direction that the evacuees were fleeing towards. He would not leave, even though five days had passed and aftershocks were still shaking the earth. He walked barefoot throughout the fishing area that was completely razed to the ground.

There were no houses or boats to be seen; even the row of fancy houses that had been built several kilometers from the beach were gone. Everything was destroyed. Now, only the trunks of bald coconut palms remained standing amongst the pieces of human bodies that floated serenely in the calm ocean, some scattered along the beach. His eyes searched for something. When they found what he was looking for, the man began to work. When he was done he kneeled and, with his head bowed reverently, he prayed over the grave he had just dug. Every day, the man worked speechlessly. Unlike the other volunteers, who carried everything out in vehicles and buried the bodies in mass graves, he buried every corpse he found with his own hands. He searched only for female corpses. He didn’t care if the faces all looked the same because they were swollen by the seawater and had begun to decay. He didn’t stop, though his eyes never recognized the few scraps of batik kain on the bodies. He only knew that he couldn’t stop. Because one of them might be the woman in the kebaya who saw him off at the door. He really hadn’t planned to leave Ma for long. Just a few hours to go to the city to buy new furniture. But something had prevented him from returning sooner. Suddenly, an enormous wave had swept ashore.