In 1996, the grade six students of Royal Valley (SDA) Elem. School anxiously waited for the list of students who would take the NEAT (National Elementary Achievement Test). The school had decided, since almost 95% of its Grade 6 students always pass the NEAT, that it will choose only twenty (20) Grade 6 students to take that year’s NEAT. The teachers then randomly raffled the names of the students taking the exam. I can only recall several of the names picked and they are as follows: Ricadorie, Valene, Maximo, Junife, May Love, Lendl, Figurado, Liefred. These are all unique names. What I mean with “unique names” is that they are names one usually does not read or hear anywhere. Every student in that class who had a unique name was picked out, and I had wondered that day: was it fated that all of us with unique names be picked to take the exam? Was it destined that we prove ourselves to our teachers and to our classmates that our unique names are worthy of us – unique because we’re the chosen few? Or was it mere coincidence that all of us should be chosen? After all, not all of those who were chosen had unique names. But still, I can’t help but wonder…

On August 12, 2000, my grandfather, Ramon C. Oniola Sr. (may he rest in peace) died at the age of 90. A day before he died, my parents, my younger brother and I visited him in the hospital. (It was my first time to visit him in the hospital then.) He had all sorts of contraptions attached to his frail and bony body. The doctors said he was stable. Then the following morning, my aunt who was looking after Lolo when we left the other day, came to our house to inform us that my Lolo had passed away.

His death was not unexpected by the entire family, for he was already 90 years old and he had been paralyzed, due to a heart stroke, for several months, but still, his death was still a blow to all of us, and, unknown to the entire family, it was a most fearful blow especially to me. For several months after he died, I tortured myself with the thought that I was the carrier of death in my family. You see, several years ago, my aunt died of cancer. I also visited her only once in the hospital, and days later she died. And I had wondered: if I had not visited them all those times, would they have lived a lot longer? I now know this is a silly thought, but then, a little child could not help but wonder of these things. Was it a mere coincidence that all those she loved should die days after she visited them for the first time in the hospital? Or was it just fate and her visitation of them had no connection to their deaths whatsoever?

This thought of fate and coincidence came into my head again right after I watched Chito Rono’s Feng Shui. It is said in the movie that if anyone saw their reflection in the mirror, they are fated to die. But logical thinking dictates that there are no such things as curses or fate. There are only causes and effects.

I noticed that in the movie almost all of those people who died in the movie (at least those whose deaths were explained) had their deaths coming to them. For example was the death of Luz Hernandez (the woman who owned the bakery). She died of a sickness that one can only get from rats. She fell on the floor while doing something (it was not explained what) – for she was an old woman, and old people are really prone to slippages and such – and lost her consciousness. I took notice of the bakery and it was not exactly a “clean” place, so it is not really entirely impossible that rats are roaming around the place.

Next is Lotlot de Leon’s death. Maybe if she hadn’t treated that drunken man the way she did, maybe the man wouldn’t have gone berserk and thrown her off the window. Of course, there will be those who’ll defend her actions and say, “But she was nervous and frantic! She was going to die for Chrissakes! Who could think straight when you know you’re going to die?!”

The problem with the people in that movie was that they believed in the Tarot cards, in the hula, so much. Kaya nga hula eh, kasi hula-hula lang. If they hadn’t let their emotions get the better of them, they wouldn’t have died! “But what about the Chinese woman? What about Lotlot’s vision?” Frantic minds can think of many things when they’re near to breaking down. Who’s to say that what she saw was reality or just the workings of a delirious mind?

And then, there was the death of Jay Manalo and his mistress. They were both married to different people; they knew they were cheating their spouses, and their spouses knew they were being cheated on. The difference was in the spouses: Kris was contented to plead with Jay, the mistress’s husband was not a man of words; he was a man of action, and did what a man of action does when faced with a problem – he faced the problem with a shotgun. Maybe he figured if he can’t have his wife then no man could have her either. Boom! The shot bore a hole on the wife’s lovely figure. Then he turned to Jay and pointed the gun at him. He was maybe thinking that Jay was the reason why he was never able to have his wife. Boom! Another hole on the other man. Then he bore a hole through his mouth, maybe he was thinking that maybe if he can’t have his wife in this lifetime, maybe in death, he’ll finally get lucky. Boom!

And even the matter of Kris’s procuring the eight-cornered mirror was her fault. Nobody told her to bring the mirror with her. When she wasn’t able to find the man, she should have left the mirror wherever she found it, or wherever she could have put it. But curiosity kills the cat, she brought the mirror with her, and although the cat didn’t get herself killed, she got her entire brood killed.