War is often glorified as a display of strength, but history and human experience reveal it more often as a sign of weakness, an attempt to assert power at the expense of empathy, humanity, and the lives of those caught in its path.
I remember first encountering William Congreve through a famous line from his 1697 play The Mourning Bride: “Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak”.
I wonder how this idea, and art more broadly, might bring comfort to those affected by the ongoing conflict in the Middle East.
The burden of this war would be felt worldwide. Oil prices are expected to rise, and as experience has shown, higher energy costs tend to drive up the prices of goods across the board. Beyond these economic effects, the long-term toll of such meaningless violence on those directly affected, along with the deep cultural and generational rifts it may leave behind, cannot be ignored.
Picasso’s Guernica exposed the horrors of war. The song “We Are the World” sparked global solidarity. These and many others have played a role in shaping public awareness and response to social crises.
At the very least, art invites us to pause and reflect, encouraging us to consider the message the artist seeks to convey. It provides a space where we can practice empathy and engage with experiences beyond our own.
The Better Half
I developed a deeper appreciation for art and literature thanks to our teacher at Parañaque Science High School, Dr. Dids Morales, who now serves as the Education Program Supervisor for English at the Department of Education Schools Division Office of Parañaque City.
One of the stories Dr. Dids shared with us was “The Better Half” by DeltaindiadeltasierraSelarom, which I am sharing here:
(1) I was quite jittery when I saw a number of people in the ingress of the hall, and just found myself as one of them.
(2) There he was. Ver extended his left arm as if to offer a hug or a handshake. I didn’t know what to say I just spoke what other people had been telling him. Ver hugged me half… after almost five years of not seeing each other, he just offered a half and what about the other.
(3) “Will it be bestowed later?”, l Just thought.
(4) Ver told me where to proceed, and I did. While I was going to the reception area, I saw familiar faces as they approached Ver who was grateful with their presence and presents. I got my plate, and I lined up to the gourmet station. I never lost the sight of him every time he went near me.
(5) I knew that he felt somehow that I quite disapproved of the other half… after two weeks of foresighting what would transpire in this affair… and five long years… that was last time we talked… it was over the phone; we argued about serious things, about us, that both of us took it seriously.
(6) “If ever we could, it won’t work out either,” Ver spoke firmly.
(7) I just sighed deeply. He was perfectly right, and I agreed to it.
(8) That statement still echoed at the back of my mind. The truth was I lost my self-esteem… I remained taciturn about the truth. I had been deluded by passion. I hadn’t been able to complete myself… neither had been able to fill in the gap. I tried, but I never won the race. The race was so stiff; I could not even try to win though I knew I had the edge for the bacon.
(9) “Have I really tried?”, l asked myself rhetorically.
(10) The damnedest of all was I had let him win within. I damned myself… who else would?
(11) I had never eaten a food on my plate yet though I was craving tor it. I liked the main course; it was Italian. I just drunk a cup of coffee this morning, and I had never taken up something after five hours of battling the congested traffic inside the Metropolitan.
(12) My focus now was to eat up the idea of negating the truth, which had consumed me for years. Yes, I had never stopped… Ver knew that… Maybe I was just thinking that I had gormandized by the thought of walking out from this holy ground, but I refused the idea while Ver was treading towards my way.
(13) Ver asked for a cigarette intensely to mar his tensed moment, and I likewise got mine, too.
(14) “I have not smoked once the investiture began”; Ver spoke while catching his breath.
(15) The hall started to become empty except for the waiters who had been preoccupied as they were still accommodating the last three tables occupied by few visitors who were still chatting about the day’s end.
(16) Ver asked me why I came late that I was not able to witness the ceremony.
(17) “You should have been here earlier to hear what I have professed before him and Him”.
(18) But I never spoke a word, and he continued… “That I have chosen to leave the world and and live a contemplative life.
(19) I just sighed with a bit of agreement. Much to his surprise, Ver noticed that I had never taken a food on my plate.
(20) “You didn’t like the food they served, did you?”, he uttered intently.
(21) I got the fork and started to eat less as he expected.
(22) He mumbled, “Just eat at least half of it.”
(23) I got the spoon and started to eat more. I stared at him… maybe for the last time… and we muted for a short moment.
(24) I stood up from my chair and breathed heavily as I hung the strap of my bag on my right shoulder gesturing to set off the place.
(25) He rose and enfolded his arms as if to offer not the half of what I had received earlier but whole of it as a mark of indirect appreciation of my existence. I withdrew his nearness and spoke without discontinuance beholding the plate with half-leftover food.
(26) And I declared discretely, “The half of what I have eaten from this plate was far better than half of what have received from you and of the whole of what you are bidding for.”
(27) I set off towards the egress as I heard him calling my name a number of times fading its sounds with unholy ambiance of the ground as I was shaking the dust of inane perfection.
(28) And I pronounced firmly with incontestable affirmation to myself, “Now I could finish my endings with you, and I have to start my beginnings tor myself.”