The Romantic and Tragic Story of The Ruins- The Taj Mahal of Negros Occidental

This question has been asked so many times already, but I think I want to ask it again.

How far have you gone for love, and was it worth it?

Should I even answer this question? Well, I think the answer would definitely vary from person to person. Love here doesn’t only refer to romantic relationships—it could also mean love in interpersonal connections. Love is everywhere, to the point that it sometimes feels so overrated that we begin to question whether what we feel is truly love or not.

Maybe one can prove their love by going the extra mile just to show it. But how do you really prove it? Is it through expressing your love language—like acts of service, gift-giving, or spending time? I honestly don’t know. Maybe I have no idea, or maybe I’m just oblivious to this kind of love altogether.

But my perspective changed when I happened to visit The Ruins in Talisay, Bacolod City, Negros Occidental. This old building symbolizes the true essence of love—a love that proves its authenticity and existence as long as the structure continues to stand through generations.

The Ruins is often called the Taj Mahal of Negros Occidental, and rightly so. It might be a bold comparison, but as it stands, this building was also born out of love—just like the Taj Mahal. It's a structure built in the Renaissance architectural style. Although not as massive as the Taj Mahal, it shares the same romantic and tragic essence.

I was very excited when we visited. It was around lunchtime and the weather was gloomy. From the parking area, we walked a short distance to the entrance of The Ruins, and as we entered, there it stood—a hauntingly beautiful structure from the early 20th century. I felt a bit melancholic, and I couldn’t understand why. Maybe because it felt like we were stepping into a time machine, witnessing something deeply historic right before our eyes. I imagined how this place looked in its prime. Then it hit me—no matter how glorified your life is, time will come when, like these ruins, all that glory may fade. But if you're built on love, even if time strips away everything else, your glow will remain.

I looked around. The building, though weathered, drew a lot of visitors. It seemed like rain was about to fall, but people didn’t care. We all came from different places to witness The Ruins. While exploring, I learned a few things about the place—including its romantic and tragic backstory.

Let’s talk about the romantic part first. In the 1920s, there was a man named Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson. He was called “Don” because he was a wealthy sugar baron with vast sugarcane plantations in Negros Occidental. Don Mariano had a wife, Cora Maria Osorio Rosa-Braga, whom he loved dearly. They had a happy married life and were blessed with ten children. You probably wouldn’t have ten children with someone you didn’t truly love.

But as wedding vows say, “’Til death do us part.” In 1911, Cora passed away. As a testament to his undying love, Don Mariano ordered the construction of a mansion in her honor. Since then, the mansion has stood as a symbol of his love for her.

Now for the tragic part. During the Japanese invasion of the Philippines, the mansion became a target. The Japanese soldiers wanted to convert it into their headquarters. They asked Don Mariano to vacate the house so they could occupy it. But he refused. He couldn’t bear the thought of their evil intentions tainting the beautiful memory of his wife. So, he made a heartbreaking decision—to burn the mansion. It burned for three days, ensuring that no one could use it for such dark purposes. And that is why it is now called "The Ruins"—what remains of the mansion after it was consumed by fire.

Decades have passed, but "The Ruins" still stands and has become one of the top tourist attractions in Bacolod. I love how they’ve preserved every part of it. Inside, you’ll find memorabilia from the family who once lived there. Walking through its halls feels like traveling back in time—every corner tells a story. The building stands as a witness to a great love and the tragedy that marked its past.

Outside the mansion is a wide garden filled with lush greenery. The atmosphere is peaceful and serene. There's also a restaurant where you can dine, a souvenir shop, and even a mini film viewing session that tells the story of the mansion for those who want to learn more.

As we explored further, the rain began to fall—something I expected given the gloomy skies. As we prepared to leave, I looked back one more time and felt a wave of sadness. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was the feeling that I might never return. Or maybe… maybe it was because I envied the kind of love Don Mariano had for his wife.

In today’s world, love like that feels so rare—to immortalize your love for someone, and allow future generations to witness and remember it. That’s love. A love that goes the extra mile. A love that not even death could erase.

So I ask again, How far have you gone for love, and was it worth it?