KARMA? Another Story

May kasabihan, “Matagal mamatay ang masamang damo”. But I guess this saying doesn’t always hold true.

When my Dad was younger, he once worked as an agent for some company. Unfortunately, the company flapped. To his surprise, one of the company’s clients, whom he himself introduced to the company as an agent, filed a legal suit against him for the reason that my Dad was the instrument who made him join the company. The client was running after his investments from the company since it has filed for bankruptcy.

My Dad was a victim, just as he was. He was out of job. He was just working for the company. He didn’t own the company. He was not liable for its downfall.

Anyway, this client was barking at the wrong tree. He wouldn’t listen to reason and even got my Dad arrested. He really gave him a hard time but of course for my Dad, justice prevailed.

Some years flew by, and one day this client was in the front page of the local daily news. He had died of a gunshot wound. He was shot from the back while seated in a waiting jeepney. The reason: he was wearing a jacket which he had borrowed from somebody whom he didn’t know had angered another person – the shooter. The shooter thought the client was the real owner of the jacket and needed to settle a score with him by shooting him. He wore the jacket at the wrong time, at the wrong place. It was somewhat an accidental shooting since the bullet was not intended for him in the first place.

It’s amazing how life plays out. Coincidence? Let’s see. Check out my next story and then tell me if this is coincidence.

KARMA?

Another event involving my Dad in his workplace took shape sometime when we were older. One of his officemates kept on breathing down orders on his neck in a manner that was somehow degrading. He was my Dad’s immediate boss. When he called my Dad, he wouldn’t even call out his name, he would say, “hoy” or something like that. He was eaten by jealousy for the main boss kept on praising out loud, his appreciation for my Dad’s commendable work output, to his superior’s disgust.

My dad was pissed off but he dared not say a word nor lift his hand in retaliation to this man, being his next-in-line boss. It was tough, he would say, to be treated in humiliation.

Eleven months would pass before my Dad would finally be able to work in peace. He wondered why his immediate boss didn’t report to work for quite some time. Then he heard that he was involved in a car accident. His car flew off a cliff while he was driving home one night. He just came from a party and was quite intoxicated. His accident rendered him paralyzed down the waist. He was bedridden and out of work.

It was a sad story but honestly calming to some extent.

It is funny (and understandable) how older people, I mean really old, would first look at the obituary section of the newspaper every time they got hold of one. Well, a number of those who had passed away, my dad would mention, when he recognized one, did him wrong in the past. Although their stories are not so interesting as the ones I had written, it still busts that saying that “matagal mamatay ang masasamang damo.”

One bully person who died of stroke in his old age was my Dad’s former boss. During the time when we were constructing our house, my Dad went to a government office to file a loan so he can buy more construction materials. To his surprise he found out that their monthly office contributions from their salaries were not being remitted to the office although it was stated as a deduction in the salary slip. The boss pocketed the money. When he found that out, they had a shouting engagement.

I guess, everything has its own time…

Now my Dad lives in California with my Mom and my sister.