“And then one morning he woke up with the horrifying realization that he couldn’t remember his name.”

“Vida.”

Looking back on the story by Eric Gamalinda it paints a vivid picture for the readers to imagine how a man's descent into the fragility of age devoured his life into dedicating his final days immortalising himself in his passion for the academe. One could look at it straight-on and view it as a man's last chance at life knowing that death is near.

Or maybe it's the exact opposite. Perhaps it is the tragedy of the trepidation that comes with the continuous marching of death that professor Quemada wants to avoid---to escape--to use his captivating words so that his life would continue in the minds of others. That is how I view professor Quemada's words... a futile attempt at a cry for help.

I believe this to be a parallel to the deterioration of professor Quemada's language ability. The more words he uses, the more his reality becomes oblique and close to ending.

It's a beautiful attempt at living when professor Quemada tirelessly preserves his genius through pages of paper, which makes it all the more painful when even his own name is forgotten.