As I sat in the waiting shed, waiting for my tricycle service to pick me up with much boredom, my eyes lowered in annoyance— and there, I saw the bunch of keychains I kept in my lanyard and the numerous bracelets on my wrist. Just looking at it calmed down my not-so-positive emotions.
Still caught in my own musings, I was disrupted by a group of students like myself sitting just beside me. They were all so painfully noisy, arguing about what’s cuter and whatnot. To satiate my curiosity, I took a peek at their affairs to see what made them so loud. As it turns out, they are boasting and even competing about cute little dolls attached to their bags.
One of them proudly held a doll of humanoid design. It was honestly cute with its warm-toned colors, kind of reminds me of Ghibli art. Moreover, it has an adorable sulking expression with downcast monolid eyes—I understand why the girl is showing off and saying it’s the cutest. Yet, another girl refuted her, saying it’s not the cutest and presented a yellowish-green doll. Apparently, it’s a glow in the dark item. It reminds me of my childhood universe in the ceiling. They have the same color. Although it's different from the first doll, this doll has a neutral expression like that certain deadpan emoticon.
Despite that, the girl insisted that its charm lies in its unique feature of being a glow in the dark doll. The last girl, though, didn’t back down. This time she pulled out a doll with animal-like features. It has a set of sharp teeth grinning, a match with its slight frown creating a mischievous image. It is also enveloped by a fur-like design and perky ears like a rabbit. She vehemently tried to say that their dolls were no match for her “Labubu” doll. And as the girls obviously did not have the same ideas, they went on for a lengthy banter.
Satiating my curiosity about knowing their deal, I was about to mind my own business when I heard them say they needed to decide which “anik-anik” is the best among the ones they have. And my mind went into full-on confusion. What do they mean anik-anik? Those are anik-anik? How can that be? That’s certainly not the anik-anik I grew up with, you know!
Before I could even try to wrap my head around what they’re saying, I saw my tricycle service and left with a brain full of air in confusion. Pulling myself from the question marks in my mind, I found myself searching for anik-anik on the internet, hoping that I wouldn’t see the dolls they had earlier. And much to my chagrin, those dolls were indeed in the search results. Those same dolls were pricey collectible toys that became a part of a popular trend among Gen Zs, coining the term anik-anik girlies for those who collected those expensive dolls called Hirono, Smiski, and Labubu.
Closing my laptop, I was left in utter shock as I cannot understand how anik-anik came to this. My eyes searched for the bunch of keychains I kept in my lanyard. They were all gifts and souvenirs given to me by my friends and family. One came from RSPC, given by my good friend. One was a souvenir my best friend gave me from her trip to Baguio. One was a lego-like pair of keychain that my sister and I had one each. And many others with sentimental backgrounds to them. These were my anik-anik. Things I could never dispose of as I held them close to my heart. Things that come from thoughtful affection.
My heart is torn into thousands, if not millions of pieces. How easy was it to forget its beautiful practice? Anik-anik that were supposed to be sentimental items we grew attached with, to the point we cherish them despite not having any particular use, became anik-anik defined by how it costs, how it looks, or how it follows trends. The anik-anik, irreplaceable and one of a kind we loved, was simply forgotten for anik-anik, mass-produced and unsentimental.
All that was left was a memory of its moving intention to treasure something no one will ever see the same; yet, that same memory is still being overlooked as just a trend, and not an action out of pure and raw determination to care for its sentiment.
Looking at my anik-anik, clinking with one another, I felt crushed. We really can’t have all the good things in the world, no? We cannot even keep a beautiful, endearing tradition of cherishing love-filled items. It somehow became a trend for people to follow without upholding its heartwarming intended purpose.
How I wish I could keep this sentimental, intimate practice how it is, not a trend with no feelings in it. Can’t we just keep its beauty untainted?
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