#ItogonLitMonday July 13, 2026 | Like tamarind dipped in sugar, some memories are a perfect mix of sweet and sour.
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Beats of Tamarind
by Monrow Dalmacio
I never liked going to the city. I have never been amused by the skyscrapers, the malls, or any other establishments. Cityscape is just one big pile of concrete with the greenery only found in parks or gardens. But, for once, I had to set this belief aside. For once, I had one reason to give the city a try.
I opted to settle and cling to the rear part of the jeepney. Compared to sitting inside this public vehicle, riding on the outside is a breath of fresher air. Plus, I wouldn’t miss getting a glimpse of the tamarind tree I used to frequent with Maya back then. The jeepney made its pass through the open field where the tamarind stood majestically. I gazed as two figures were walking towards the tree.
𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑎𝘭𝑟𝘦𝑎𝘥𝑦 𝑤𝘢𝑖𝘵𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑢𝘯𝑑𝘦𝑟𝘯𝑒𝘢𝑡𝘩 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘴ℎ𝘢𝑑𝘦 𝘰𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑡𝘢𝑚𝘢𝑟𝘪𝑛𝘥. 𝐼 𝑤𝘢𝑠 ℎ𝘦𝑎𝘷𝑖𝘭𝑦 𝑏𝘳𝑒𝘢𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝘯 𝘐 𝘤𝑎𝘶𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑢𝘱 𝘵𝑜 ℎ𝘦𝑟. 𝘐 𝘩𝑎𝘥 𝘮𝑦 𝑏𝘢𝑐𝘬 𝘣𝑒𝘯𝑡 𝑑𝘰𝑤𝘯 𝘢𝑛𝘥 𝘮𝑦 ℎ𝘢𝑛𝘥𝑠 𝑜𝘯 𝘮𝑦 𝑘𝘯𝑒𝘦𝑠. 𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑔𝘪𝑔𝘨𝑙𝘦𝑑 𝑎𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘴𝑖𝘨ℎ𝘵.
“𝘞ℎ𝘢𝑡 𝑡𝘰𝑜𝘬 𝘺𝑜𝘶 𝘴𝑜 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝘨?” 𝘴ℎ𝘦 𝘫𝑜𝘬𝑖𝘯𝑔𝘭𝑦 𝑎𝘴𝑘𝘦𝑑.
“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝘭𝑙𝘦𝑛𝘨𝑒𝘥 𝘮𝑒 𝑡𝘰 𝘢 𝘳𝑎𝘤𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝘭𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑡𝘢𝑘𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝑢𝘮𝑝. 𝘠𝑜𝘶 𝘬𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝐼 𝑑𝘰𝑛’𝑡 𝑏𝘢𝑐𝘬 𝘥𝑜𝘸𝑛,” 𝐼 𝑟𝘦𝑝𝘭𝑖𝘦𝑑.
𝘚ℎ𝘦 𝘭𝑎𝘶𝑔𝘩𝑒𝘥 𝘩𝑒𝘢𝑟𝘵𝑖𝘭𝑦.
“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝘢𝑑𝘦 𝘴𝑢𝘳𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝘢𝑠𝘩𝑒𝘥 𝘺𝑜𝘶𝑟 ℎ𝘢𝑛𝘥𝑠 𝑝𝘳𝑜𝘱𝑒𝘳𝑙𝘺?”
“𝑂𝘧 𝘤𝑜𝘶𝑟𝘴𝑒,” 𝐼 𝑠𝘢𝑖𝘥, “𝘥𝑖𝘥 𝘺𝑜𝘶 𝘣𝑟𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘴𝑢𝘨𝑎𝘳?”
“𝐼 𝑔𝘰𝑡 𝑚𝘰𝑟𝘦 𝘵ℎ𝘢𝑛 𝑒𝘯𝑜𝘶𝑔𝘩,” 𝘴ℎ𝘦 𝘳𝑒𝘱𝑙𝘪𝑒𝘥.
𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑤𝘢𝑖𝘵𝑒𝘥 𝘣𝑒𝘭𝑜𝘸 𝘢𝑠 𝐼 𝑚𝘢𝑑𝘦 𝘮𝑦 𝑤𝘢𝑦 𝑢𝘱 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘵𝑟𝘦𝑒. 𝘛ℎ𝘦 𝘰𝑡𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘬𝑖𝘥𝑠 𝑎𝘭𝑟𝘦𝑎𝘥𝑦 𝑡𝘰𝑜𝘬 𝘮𝑜𝘴𝑡 𝑜𝘧 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘧𝑟𝘶𝑖𝘵𝑠 𝑠𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝑎𝘥 𝘵𝑜 𝑟𝘦𝑎𝘤ℎ 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑙𝘦𝑓𝘵𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘳𝑠 𝑎𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘵𝑟𝘦𝑒’𝑠 𝑝𝘦𝑎𝘬. 𝐼 𝑐𝘭𝑖𝘮𝑏𝘦𝑑 𝑢𝘱 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘩𝑖𝘨ℎ𝘦𝑠𝘵 𝘱𝑜𝘪𝑛𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝑜𝘶𝑙𝘥 𝘳𝑒𝘢𝑐𝘩 𝘸ℎ𝘦𝑛 𝑎 𝑔𝘶𝑠𝘵 𝘰𝑓 𝑤𝘪𝑛𝘥 𝘱𝑎𝘴𝑠𝘦𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝘰𝑢𝘨ℎ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝘪𝑒𝘭𝑑. 𝘐 𝘸𝑟𝘢𝑝𝘱𝑒𝘥 𝘮𝑦 𝑎𝘳𝑚𝘴 𝘢𝑟𝘰𝑢𝘯𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘯 𝘵𝑟𝘶𝑛𝘬 𝘢𝑛𝘥 𝘧𝑎𝘴𝑡𝘦𝑛𝘦𝑑 𝑚𝘺 𝘧𝑒𝘦𝑡 𝑜𝘯 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘣𝑟𝘢𝑛𝘤ℎ 𝐼 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑜𝘯. 𝐼𝘵 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘢𝑠𝘵𝑜𝘶𝑛𝘥𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝘢𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝘪𝑛𝘥 𝘵𝑟𝘪𝑒𝘥 𝘵𝑜 𝑏𝘦𝑛𝘥 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘵𝑜𝘸𝑒𝘳𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑡𝘳𝑒𝘦. 𝑊𝘪𝑡𝘩 𝘮𝑒 𝑔𝘳𝑖𝘱𝑝𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘧𝑜𝘳 𝘥𝑒𝘢𝑟 𝑙𝘪𝑓𝘦, 𝐼 𝑠𝘵𝑖𝘭𝑙 𝑓𝘦𝑙𝘵 𝘭𝑖𝘬𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑓𝘭𝑦𝘪𝑛𝘨. 𝐼 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝘭𝑑𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝑣𝘦𝑛 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝘱𝑟𝘦ℎ𝘦𝑛𝘥 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘸𝑜𝘳𝑑𝘴 𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝘶𝑡𝘦𝑑 𝑎𝘵 𝘮𝑒 𝑏𝘦𝑐𝘢𝑢𝘴𝑒 𝑜𝘧 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘸ℎ𝘪𝑠𝘵𝑙𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘸𝑖𝘯𝑑. 𝘐 𝘫𝑢𝘴𝑡 𝑘𝘦𝑝𝘵 𝘮𝑦 𝑒𝘺𝑒𝘴 𝘴ℎ𝘶𝑡 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑖𝘮𝑎𝘨𝑖𝘯𝑒𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘶𝑝 𝑖𝘯 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘤𝑙𝘰𝑢𝘥𝑠.
The wind was all over my face as the jeepney traversed the long and winding road. It would take a few more minutes before the city would show up on the horizon. I was nervous and anxious as well. It’s been almost a decade since I last saw Maya.
Maya Mitchell Valencia. I recognized her with those gleaming, round eyes which were charming as ever. Everything about her has changed except those eyes. She already knew it was me as I entered the café. I mustered a faint smile as I approached her table. I hung my head low and noticed I had a stain on my shirt. I became even more flustered and ashamed. All I had to do was sit and wait.
“So, how’s it been?” she asked.
“Uh, I’m alright, I guess. You know—” I wanted to say it, but I hesitated.
“What is it?” she replied.
“I just—I mean, I’m really impressed and proud of how far you’ve been. You’ve been touring nonstop, so where to next?” I said in response.
“I’m off to Singapore next month. I just needed to come back home,” she answered.
“Welcome home then, I’m really glad you invited me to this fancy café,” I responded.
We moved on to order beverages. Maya was particular about what she ordered, while I just picked the first one that caught my eye. We settled for our drinks. She sat in front of me. I had my sight fixed on her. I was just grateful that we got to meet. She was way more alluring than I remembered. She had this grace and modesty in her actions. I watched intently as she poured a packet of white sugar into her cup. She still had her way with sweets.
𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑚𝘢𝑑𝘦 𝘴𝑢𝘳𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘳𝑖𝘱𝑒 𝑡𝘢𝑚𝘢𝑟𝘪𝑛𝘥 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘢𝑙𝘭 𝘤𝑜𝘢𝑡𝘦𝑑 𝑖𝘯 𝘣𝑟𝘰𝑤𝘯 𝘴𝑢𝘨𝑎𝘳 𝘣𝑒𝘧𝑜𝘳𝑒 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝑝𝘶𝑡 𝑖𝘵 𝘪𝑛 ℎ𝘦𝑟 𝑚𝘰𝑢𝘵ℎ. 𝘌𝑦𝘦𝑠 𝑐𝘭𝑜𝘴𝑒𝘥, 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘢𝑣𝘰𝑟𝘦𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘸𝑒𝘦𝑡 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑠𝘰𝑢𝘳 𝘧𝑟𝘶𝑖𝘵. 𝑊𝘦 𝘴𝑝𝘦𝑛𝘵 𝘮𝑜𝘴𝑡 𝑜𝘧 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘢𝑓𝘵𝑒𝘳𝑛𝘰𝑜𝘯 𝘱𝑙𝘢𝑦𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘩𝑜𝘶𝑠𝘦 𝘢𝑛𝘥 𝘴𝑖𝘯𝑔𝘪𝑛𝘨. 𝑊𝘦 𝘸𝑒𝘳𝑒 𝑎𝘣𝑜𝘶𝑡 𝑡𝘰 𝘧𝑖𝘯𝑖𝘴ℎ 𝑒𝘢𝑡𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘵ℎ𝘦 𝘧𝑟𝘶𝑖𝘵𝑠 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝘯 𝘸𝑒 ℎ𝘦𝑎𝘳𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝘦𝑟𝘪𝑒𝘴 𝘰𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑢𝘯𝑑𝘦𝑟𝘰𝑢𝘴 𝘺𝑒𝘭𝑙𝘴. 𝐼𝘵 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎’𝑠 𝑓𝘢𝑡𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘤𝑎𝘭𝑙𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘩𝑒𝘳. 𝑊𝘪𝑡𝘩𝑜𝘶𝑡 ℎ𝘦𝑠𝘪𝑡𝘢𝑡𝘪𝑜𝘯, 𝑀𝘢𝑦𝘢 𝘨𝑜𝘵 𝘶𝑝 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑙𝘦𝑓𝘵. 𝐼 𝑗𝘶𝑠𝘵 𝘸𝑎𝘵𝑐𝘩𝑒𝘥 𝘢𝑠 𝑀𝘢𝑦𝘢 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘥𝑟𝘢𝑔𝘨𝑒𝘥 𝘢𝑤𝘢𝑦 𝑓𝘳𝑜𝘮 𝘮𝑦 𝑠𝘪𝑔𝘩𝑡.
Maya showed up with a couple of shakes in her hands. She bought it from a stall nearby. I just sat, waited and stared at a bunch of kids ascending and sliding down the park’s slide.
“R-remember when we used to climb the tamarind tree back home,” I muttered.
Silence. I glanced at Maya as she set her eyes on the distance. After a moment, she looked down, then looked at me and forced a smile.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“So, how’s Auntie and Uncle doing?” she added.
“You know they’re old,” I answered in jest, “but they’ve always been great, always been busy farming.”
“How about Aunt Ellen? Hope she’s alright,” I added.
“Oh, she’s in great care. My cousins look after her every time I travel. She’s a tough woman, you know,” she answered.
𝐴𝘶𝑛𝘵 𝘌𝑙𝘭𝑒𝘯 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘣𝑎𝘥𝑙𝘺 𝘣𝑟𝘶𝑖𝘴𝑒𝘥 𝘸ℎ𝘦𝑛 𝑠𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝘢𝑚𝘦 𝘬𝑛𝘰𝑐𝘬𝑖𝘯𝑔 𝑎𝘵 𝘰𝑢𝘳 𝘥𝑜𝘰𝑟 𝑜𝘯𝑒 𝑛𝘪𝑔𝘩𝑡. 𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎 𝑠𝘵𝑟𝘶𝑔𝘨𝑙𝘦𝑑 𝑡𝘰 𝘬𝑒𝘦𝑝 ℎ𝘦𝑟 𝑏𝘢𝑙𝘢𝑛𝘤𝑒 𝑎𝘴 𝘴ℎ𝘦 𝘢𝑠𝘴𝑖𝘴𝑡𝘦𝑑 ℎ𝘦𝑟 𝑚𝘰𝑡𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘣𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝘶𝑙𝘥𝑒𝘳. 𝑂𝘶𝑟 ℎ𝘰𝑢𝘴𝑒𝘩𝑜𝘭𝑑 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑎𝘭𝑒𝘳𝑡𝘦𝑑. 𝘍𝑎𝘵ℎ𝘦𝑟 𝑤𝘦𝑛𝘵 𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝘵𝑜 𝑐𝘰𝑛𝘧𝑟𝘰𝑛𝘵 𝘈𝑢𝘯𝑡 𝐸𝘭𝑙𝘦𝑛’𝑠 ℎ𝘶𝑠𝘣𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝘭𝑒 𝑀𝘰𝑡𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘵𝑒𝘯𝑑𝘦𝑑 𝐴𝘶𝑛𝘵 𝘌𝑙𝘭𝑒𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝑜𝘶𝑛𝘥𝑠. 𝘛ℎ𝘪𝑠 𝑤𝘢𝑠 𝑛𝘰𝑡 𝑎 𝑢𝘴𝑢𝘢𝑙 𝑖𝘯𝑐𝘪𝑑𝘦𝑛𝘵, 𝑏𝘶𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑜𝘭𝑒 𝑛𝘦𝑖𝘨ℎ𝘣𝑜𝘳ℎ𝘰𝑜𝘥 𝘬𝑛𝘦𝑤 𝑖𝘵 𝘸𝑜𝘶𝑙𝘥 𝘩𝑎𝘱𝑝𝘦𝑛. 𝘔𝑎𝘺𝑎’𝑠 𝑓𝘢𝑡𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝑒𝘯𝑠𝘦𝑙𝘦𝑠𝘴 𝘥𝑟𝘶𝑛𝘬, 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘯𝑖𝘨ℎ𝘵 𝘵𝑢𝘳𝑛𝘦𝑑 𝑜𝘶𝑡 𝑡𝘰 𝘣𝑒 ℎ𝘪𝑠 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝘴𝑡 𝑒𝘱𝑖𝘴𝑜𝘥𝑒. 𝘐 𝘸𝑎𝘴 𝘴𝑡𝘪𝑙𝘭 𝘨𝑟𝘢𝑡𝘦𝑓𝘶𝑙 𝑀𝘢𝑦𝘢 𝘸𝑎𝘴𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝘶𝑟𝘵, 𝑏𝘶𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝘪𝑑𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝑎𝘷𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑟𝘪𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑡𝘰 𝘤𝑜𝘮𝑓𝘰𝑟𝘵 𝘩𝑒𝘳. 𝐴𝘧𝑡𝘦𝑟 𝑎𝘭𝑙 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘯𝑔𝘴 𝘐’𝘷𝑒 𝑝𝘶𝑡 ℎ𝘦𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝘰𝑢𝘨ℎ, 𝘐 𝘸𝑎𝘴𝑛’𝑡 𝑒𝘷𝑒𝘯 𝘪𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝘰𝑠𝘪𝑡𝘪𝑜𝘯 𝘵𝑜 𝑏𝘦 𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘧𝑟𝘪𝑒𝘯𝑑. 𝘐 𝘣𝑟𝘰𝑘𝘦 𝘩𝑒𝘳 𝘩𝑒𝘢𝑟𝘵, 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘯𝑖𝘨ℎ𝘵 𝘦𝑣𝘦𝑛 𝑚𝘢𝑑𝘦 𝘪𝑡 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝘴𝑒. 𝘈𝑓𝘵𝑒𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝑒𝘦𝑘, 𝘈𝑢𝘯𝑡 𝐸𝘭𝑙𝘦𝑛 𝑎𝘯𝑑 𝑀𝘢𝑦𝘢 𝘭𝑒𝘧𝑡 𝑡𝘰𝑤𝘯. 𝐼 𝑑𝘪𝑑𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝑎𝘷𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝘯𝑐𝘦 𝘵𝑜 𝑎𝘴𝑘 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑓𝘰𝑟𝘨𝑖𝘷𝑒𝘯𝑒𝘴𝑠.
“Hey M-Maya, I-I really am sorry for what I did back then.” Just saying her name took all of the courage I could muster.
“You should know that I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. It’s alright now. We were just kids back then, we were immature,” she replied.
“Y-yeah, but I—,” I tried to insist.
“Let’s just leave it in the past,” she interrupted and wore the warmest smile I’ve ever seen.
Silence once again. I looked at her, amazed by just how much she had changed. She was far from the Maya I used to know. I never thought a stunted girl like her would grow up to become a fine woman.
“You’ve really changed a lot, haven’t you?” I spoke.
“Well, you should too. I think you really need it right now,” she replied.
“Will do, but it might take some time,” I muttered.
It was only a few hours before sunset. I realized I had to go home. I bid Maya one last farewell and thanked her for everything.
“You know I can just drive you back home,” Maya insisted.
“Thank you, but you’ve done so much for me in a day, and I haven’t even returned the favor,” I replied.
“Well, if you say so. I’ll look forward to that favor, you owe me,” she said.
“But seriously, I really am thankful for the chance. I’m grateful that you even had the time to meet up with me,” I said.
“Don’t mention it. I really wanted to meet you, and I’m glad you showed up.”
“So, until next time then.”
“Until we meet again, Lance.”
“Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
The jeepney dashed towards the sunset-burned field. I still opted to cling to the jeepney’s rear part. I was mesmerized by the afternoon glow that it took me a moment to notice that the tamarind tree was already gone. The jeepney drove closer to the tree’s location. All that was left of it were branches, a heap of sawdust, and a stump. The owner of the field where the tree grew might have decided to cut it down. Euphoria got the best of me as I was reminded of the moments I had with Maya, especially the times when she would sing for me under the tamarind tree. Those were the good times, but there were bad times as well. These good and bad times have endings, and when they end, they have to be left where they ended. These moments in the past cannot be carried into the present or into the future. It is wrong to move backwards when time marches on. The jeepney reached the end of the open field. I turned my head to catch a glimpse of the field one last time. The field shrank out of my sight as the jeepney went farther away from it. THE END
