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by Carmelita Cochingco Ballesteros.
July 23, 2010
Dear Readers,
More than a century ago today, Valeriano Hernandez y Peña wrote the novel Mag-inang Mahirap. Being the Father of the Tagalog novel, he is a very important writer in Philippine literature. I believe that his novel Mag-inang Mahirap is an essential piece of historical fiction. Thus, every Filipino and everyone with Filipino roots should get to read Mag-inang Mahirap. I am translating it for the benefit of those who cannot read old Tagalog. .
– Carmelita C. Ballesteros –
Alberto’s return to his hometown, no doubt, was a chance for Pilar and him to get married, for their long engagement which had been hindered by several misfortunes to culminate in their wedding.
But when Pilar brought it up, the young man was speechless for a few moments as though he could not commit himself right away. And so Pilar felt deep in her heart his undeniable infidelity to her. Because she did not wish to make him notice her justified jealousy, she left the matter as it was and did not mention it anymore. Nevertheless, it became a sliver which kept wounding her heart. Sometimes, she felt as if she could not take it anymore.
But she drew on her inner strength and suffered secretly, no matter how much it hurt. Pilar felt tormented — not because she had to sue for an injury for it was her pride that her womanhood was pure up till then — but because her engagement to Alberto was public knowledge. It was probable that those who knew about it had given it a different meaning, especially the rumormongers. Nevertheless, Pilar was careful not to oblige Alberto because such a marriage would be truly disgraceful to her honorable heart and immaculate soul.
One day while the two of them were talking, Alberto declared his intention not to get married until he had avenged the bitter death of his father. Pilar replied mockingly, “We’ll never ever get married. Our wedding shall never take place because you’ll never be able to avenge your father’s death. The sergeant of the guardia civil is not here anymore. He’s been sent to a faraway town. This is the end of our life together.”
“I’ll look for him wherever he is and I’ll offer you my devotion as a good son.” “When I’m dead?” “No, Pilar, no. I won’t waste my time just looking for that scoundrel. My heart is yours forever.” “Mine? … that’s going to be a problem,if ever.”
“And why?” “Don’t keep a secret from me, Alberto, don’t. I can see what’s in your heart.” “See what?” “Don’t ask me.
You know about it more than anyone else.” “Are you mocking me?” “No, it’s what I feel in my heart.” “What riddle is this?” “It’s not a riddle. It’s the truth. I’ve noticed, Alberto,” added Pilar, “that you’re becoming cold and aloof toward me. Since your return, we’ve been seeing each other less and less. You’re busy elsewhere.” “How can I be busy elsewhere when I live all by myself? That’s just your wild imagining.”
“I’m really puzzled, Alberto. Now that you have to attend to so many things all by yourself, you’re able to do everything all at the same time.” “Everything? What do you mean? And what other concerns are keeping me busy except our infrequent visits?” “That’s true, Alberto. We rarely see each other now because you’re seeing someone else. I know you have many other priorities.” “It’s because of my father. I’ve told you… I won’t let his death go unavenged.” “Avenge yourself on someone who has done you wrong. Why do you avenge yourself on me? Have I wronged you?” “Have I done something to hurt you?” “No, I’m not hurting. I’m bewildered by you. I never thought your nature could ever change.” “What change are you talking about? Do you want us to hold our wedding even if I’m still mourning my father’s death?” “No, Alberto, no. I’ll never ask you about it anymore. You told me you’re waiting for the right time.” “Then why are you complaining
about our infrequent visits?” “I’m not complaining. Aside from mourning your father’s death, there’s something else that’s keeping you busy.”
“There’s something else!” “Yes, don’t hide it because I know it.” “What is it?” “Don’t feign ignorance. You’re not talking to a child. I have eyes, brains, and senses to use, aside from the fact that I do know it.” “Please, Pilar, don’t talk that way.” “Why? What’s wrong with the way I talk?” “You talk in riddles which I cannot guess and confuse me.”
“You’ve been confused since the day you returned. It’s not the way I talk that’s confusing you. My words are pricking your guilty conscience, that’s why you’re upset.” “Are you jealous of someone?” “No. You shouldn’t use your mourning as an excuse. The truth is you cannot help but become cold to me.” “That’s a mistaken accusation. It won’t ever happen.” “Thanks if it won’t ever happen, but it’s what I feel.” “You’re mistaken, Pilar. Erase that suspicion from your mind.”
“It’s not a mere suspicion. I can prove what you’re trying to hide.” And she took out of her pocket a letter wrapped in a handkerchief, then showed it to Alberto with a smile – a smile that was very sad because of the searing truth which burned her soul. Then she spoke with great pain: “I’m sorry, Alberto, to shove this evidence in your face, but you don’t want to admit the truth.” Alberto’s guilt rendered him speechless, but after regaining his composure, he asked tentatively: “W-where did you get that, a-and who was the rascal who gave it to you?” “It was chance, Alberto, so you won’t be able to hide.”
“Forgive me, Pilar. I admit that I have hurt you. But don’t think that that woman can make my love for you grow cold. My heart belongs to you forever.” “That’s a problem and I’ve told you why. Don’t make me say it again. You yourself shattered my faith in you. I’ve always trusted you, but I have no luck to deserve your affection.” “You’re hurting me, Pilar. It’s enough that I’ve admitted my sin; have pity on me.” “Why should I pity you when it’s I who should be pitied because of what you’ve done? I thought you were faithful and I thought you were the epitome of goodness who’d take care of my mother and me. “My mother never questioned my love for you, but it’s you who have ended it. Ah, Alberto! My happiness is over, so what shall I do now? What shall I tell my mother who’s been expecting that we’ll be getting married soon? And
what about my cousin?” “It’s nothing, Pilar. Don’t worry; she’s not an obstacle to our future.” “Not she,” Pilar replied sadly, “not she, but I perhaps.” “You! … and why you? Give me that letter and I’ll tear it to pieces in front of you.
Give it to me.” “Let me keep it.” “And what will you do with it?” “At least, let it be mine to keep.” “Give it to me.” “No, Alberto, this is my plea. Let it be a remembrance of our past.” “I’m begging you, Pilar.” “I’m begging you ten times more.”
“What will you get out of that letter? I didn’t mean what’s written in it. Give it to me and I’ll show you that it doesn’t mean anything to me.” “It doesn’t mean anything to you, but it means something to me. Let me keep it.” “Why should you keep it? To hurt you more?” “No. Why should it hurt if you don’t care for me anymore?” “I… I don’t care for you anymore?” “Yes, you, who else?” “That’s the way of men.” “Ah… Alberto. I always regarded you as a very special man. I never thought that you felt that way. I was mistaken, but my mistake is nobody’s fault except mine.” “Give that letter to me, Pilar. Give it to me, I’m begging you!” “I won’t give it to you. Stop begging me. You’ll gain nothing but frustration. Your plea is useless.” When Alberto tried to snatch it from Pilar, she stood up at once and said firmly with a quivering voice: “And you want to use force on me?” “I’ve respected you for a long time. Why should I use force on you when we only have a few more days to wait?” “What few more days are you talking about?” “Before we get married.”
“What marriage? That’s still a problem, and I have reasons to say so.” “How can you change your mind so fast, Pilar?” “As fast as you have changed yours. You shouldn’t be surprised. This letter’s a clear proof of what I’m saying.”
“It’s up to you, Pilar, to think what you wish if you don’t want to believe me.” “Which should I believe between what you’re telling me and what you’re telling her in this letter?” “That was just my way.” “Your way of cheating? Ah! You also cheated me in this letter. And you’ll always cheat me in the future whenever you please.” “I treasure you, Pilar, above everyone.” “Infidelity knows no one, respects no reason, spares no honor. Enough, Alberto. Let’s talk again some other day.” And our young lady stood up and left Alberto. She was beside herself with shock and sorrow. It was their very first
and only serious misunderstanding during their long engagement. Alberto was frozen where he was seated. Distraught and dumbfounded, he could not understand how that letter found its way to Pilar, that letter which had been the ruin of their enduring engagement. Poor Mother and Daughter, an English Translation by Carmelita C. Ballesteros Copyright © 2009 (Mag-inang Mahirap by Valeriano Hernandez at Peña, 1905-1906)