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Blue Blood of Big Astana
By Ibrahim A. Jubaira

Copyright © 1941 by Cartoon Publishing House, Inc.

All Rights Reserved

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Jafaar’s POV

R❝ emember? A little over the year after

I was orphaned, my aunt decided to turn me over to your

father, the Datu. In those days, datus were supposed to take
charge of the poor and the helpless. Therefore, my aunt

only did right in placing me under the wing of your father.
Furthermore she was so poor, that by doing that, she

not only relieved herself of the burden of poverty but

also safe-guarded my well-being.❞

P❝ lease, Babo,” I pleaded. “Try to feed me a little

more. Let me grow big with you, and I will build you a
house. I will repay you someday. Let me do something to
help, but please, Babo, don’t send me away…” I really
cried❞

B❝ abo placed a soothing hand on my shoulder.

Just like the hand of Mother. I felt a bit comforted, but presently
I cried some more. The effect of her hand was so stirring.

Listen to me. Stop crying—oh, now, do stop. You see, we can’t
go on like this,” Babo said. “My mat weaving can’t clothe and
feed both you and me. It’s really hard, son, it’s really hard. You
have to go. But I will be seeing you every week. You can have
everything you want in the Datu’s house.❞

B❝ abo bathed me in the afternoon. I did not

flinch and shiver, for the sea was comfortably warm and
exhilarating. I must not talk too much;
I must always talk in the third person; I must not…
Babo tried to be patient with me. She tested me over and over
again on those royal, traditional ways. And one thing more: I had
to say “Pateyk” for yes, and “Teyk” for what, or for answering a
call. ❞

W❝ e started that same afternoon. The breeze was cool as it

blew against my face. We did not get tired because we talked on
the way. She told me so many things. She said you of the big
house had blue blood.

“Not red like ours, Babo?”
Babo said no, not red like ours.

“And the Datu has a daughter of my age, Babo?”

Babo said yes—you. And I might be allowed to play
with you, the Datu’s daughter, if I worked hard and
behaved well. ❞

W❝ as I truly the boy about whom Babo was talking? You

were laughing, young pretty Blue Blood. Happy perhaps that I
was. Or was it the amusement brought about by my hare-lip that
had made you laugh? I dared not ask you.I feared that should
you to dislike me, you’d subject me to unpleasant treatment.
Hence, I laughed with you, and you were pleased. ❞

W❝ elcome, little orphan!”

Was it for me? Really for me? I
looked at Babo. Of course it
was for me!

We were generously bidden in.
Thanks to your father’s
kindness. And thanks to you

laughing at me, too. ❞

I❝ kissed the feet of your Appab, your old,

honorable resting-the-whole-day father.
He was not tickled by my hare-lip as you were.
He did not laugh at me. And so did your Ambob,
your kind mother. “Sit down, sit down; don’t be ashamed.”

But there you were plying Babo with your heartless questions:
Why was I like that? What had happened to me? ❞

D❝ o you think you will be happy to stay with us? Will you

not yearn any more for your Babo?”

“Pateyk, I will be happy,” I said. Then the thought of my not
yearning any more for Babo made me wince. But Babo nodded
at me reassuringly.

“Patek, I will not yearn any more for… for Babo.”

And Babo went before the interview was through. She had to

cover five miles before evening came. Still I did not cry, as you

may have expected I would, for—have I not said it? —I was so

ashamed to weep in your presence. ❞

T❝ hat as how I came

to stay with you,
remember? Babo came
to see me every week as
she had promised. And
you— all of you— had
lot of things to tell her.
But my place of sleep
always reckoned of
urine, you added,
laughing. That
downright promise
from me not to wet my
mat again. ❞

Y❝ es, Babo came to

see me, to advise me
every week, for two
consecutive years— that
is, until death took her
away, leaving no one in
the world but a nephew
with a hare-lip. ❞

R❝ emember? I was

you’re your favorite and
you wanted to play with
me always. I learned
why after a time, it
delighted you to gaze at
my hare-lip.
Sometimes, when went
out wading to the sea,
you would pause and
look at you, too,
wondering. ❞

R❝ emember? I was

apparently so willing to do
anything for you. I would
climb for young coconuts
for you. I would be amazed
by the ease and agility.
With which I made my way
up the coconut tree, yet
fear that I would implore
me to come down at once,
quick. “No.” you would
throw pebbles at me if thus
refused to come down. ❞

❝That was my way. My
only way to show how
grateful I was for the
things I had not
tasted before: your
companionship; shelter
and food in your big
astana. ❞

-Jafaar, Blue Blood of
Big Astana

B❝ ut back

there in your
spacious astana,
you were already
being tutored for
maidenhood. I was
older than you by
one Ramadan. I
often wondered
why you grew so
fast, while I
remained a lunatic
dwarf. Maybe the
poor care I
received in early
boyhood had much
to do with my
hampered growth.
However, I was
happy, in a way that
I did not catch up with you. For I had a hunch you would
not continue to avail yourself of my help in certain
intimate tasks—such as scrubbing your back when you
took your bath— had I grown as fast as you.

:a full-grown Dayang-Dayang ❞

B❝ ut things did not remain as they were.

A young Datu from Bonbon came back to ask
for your hand. Your Appab was only too glad to welcome
him. There was nothing better, he said,
than marriage between two people of the same blue blood.
But I—I felt differently; of course. I wanted…. No, I could
not have a hand in your marital arrangements. What was I,
after all? ❞

C❝ ertainly your Appab was right. The young

Datu was handsome. And rich, too. He had a large
tract of land planted with the fruit trees, coconut
trees, and abaca plants. And you were glad, too. Not
because he was rich—for you were rich yourself. I
thought I knew why: the young Datu could rub your
soft back better than I whenever you took your bath.
His hands were not as callous as mine…. However, I
did not talk to you about it. Of course.

The people sweated profusely. There was a great deal
of hammering, cutting, and lifting as they set up posts.
Plenty of eating and jabbering. And chewing of betel
nuts and native seasoned tobacco. And emitting of
red saliva afterwards. In just one day, the additional

wings were finished. ❞

T❝ hen came your

big wedding.❞

Y❝ ou, Dayang – Dayang. Your moon-shaped face was

meticulously powdered with pulverized rice. Your hair was
skewered up toweringly at the center of your head, and studded

with glittering hold hair-pins.❞

B❝ ut I escaped that

night, pretty Blue Blood.
Where to? Anywhere.
And those years did
wonderful things for me. I
am no longer a lunatic
dwarf, although my hare-
lip remains as it has
always been. ❞

That was seven years ago

A❝ nd I heard, Dayang- Dayang that your husband were

imprisoned for years now because of business. How are you?
Does it affect your life❞

A❝ nd remember? I went one day

to Bonbon on business. And I saw you on your bit of land
with your children. At first, I could not believe it was you.
Then you looked long deep into me. Soon the familiar
eyes of Blue Blood of years ago arrested the faculties of
the erstwhile servant. And you could not believe your
eyes either. You could not recognize me at once. But
when you saw my hare-lip smiling at you, rather hesitantly,
you knew me at last. And I was glad you did. ❞

We kept strangely silent for a long time. . . .

I❝ observed that your present self was only

the ragged reminder, the mere ghost, of the Blue

Blood of the big astana. Your resources of vitality and
loveliness and strength seemed to have been drained out
of your old arresting self, poured into the little farm you
were working in. Of course I did not expect you to be as
lovely as you had been. But you should have retained at
least a fair portion of it-of the old days. Not blurred eyes
encircled by dark ring; not dull, dry hair; not a sunburned

complexion; not wrinkled, callous hand; not….

You seemed to understand more and more. Why was I
looking at you like that? ❞

❝ Oh, Dayang-Dayang, was not the terrible change in
you the old servant’s concern? You suddenly turned your eyes
away from me.

And I tried to make out why: seeing me now revived old
memories. Seeing me, talking with me, poking fun at me, was
seeing, talking, and joking as in the old days at the vivacious
astana. And you sobbed as I was thinking thus. I knew you
sobbed, because your shoulders shook. But I tried to appear as
though I was not aware of your controlled weeping.

I hated myself for coming to you and making you cry. ❞

E❝ very instinct told me it was right for me to

go back to you and do something-perhaps beg you to
remember your old Jaafar’s hare-lip, just so you could smile

and be happy again.I wanted to rush back and wipe away
the tears from your eyes with my headdress. I wanted to get
fresh water and rinse your dry, ruffled hair, that it might be
restored to flowing smoothness and glorious luster. I wanted
to trim your fingernails, stroke your callous hand. I yearned

to tell you that the land and the cattle I owned were all
yours.

A nd above all, I burned to whirl back to you and beg

you and your children to come home with me. Although
the simple house I lived in as not as big as your astana at
Patikul, it would at least be a happy, temporary haven while

you waited for your husband’s release. ❞

T❝ hat urge to go back to you, Dayang-Dayang, was

strong. But I did not go back for a sudden qualm seized me: I
had no blue blood. I had only a hare-lip. Not even the fingers of
Allah perhaps could weave us, even now, into equality. ❞

The End

Submitted by:

Jalandoni, Dorothy M.

Cojuangco, Jury Yell
Jaravata, Kiara

Fernandez, Mac Paul
Rodriguez, Nyle
Taguibao, Gerald

Mr. Allan Bernard Aman
Grade 12- ABM

October 25, 2017