Skip to main content


HUMIMOD ng katitinggil ang dila sa zhongwen dahil nagkasiyota noon ng dilag mula Canton—nakasagap sa kanya ng mga aralin sa sillum gung fu, lalo na sa hung gar o mga pinagsanib na galaw ng tigre’t tagak.

Not lucky enough to be born to that tongue—that entails clutching at over 40,000 characters… 20,000 would be enough for me to read a newspaper… a grasp of 30,000 characters would get me tabbed as a learned man. But I’d still be missing out on 10,000 plus characters that leaves an unfulfilled craving to learn some more.

Such glut of significance from a 5,000-year old civilization can turn up gluttons
, sino ba ang mga dayukdok na sangkot sa $329-million ZTE-NBN deal?

Kantutan talaga ang kuei-i, o pagtatalik ng mga larawang ugat na bumubuo sa mga kataga ng zhongwen… marubdob ang libog ng kaisipan sa kanilang wika… pero kahit na katuturan ng may 108 kilos sa tai chi, isinalin na lang ang kaalaman sa sariling laman… words and their significance can take flesh, find home in the flesh, be fleshed out—and even flash out.

Parang ganoon din ang pamamaraan sa Deutsche, kenning o pagsasanib ng mga salitang ugat upang makabuo ng iba’t iba, samut-saring kataga. Matutunton ang wikang ‘to sa Latin-- na kahit lumaganap sa Europa sa pakikipag-ututang-dila sa mga kawal, kawaksi at kagawad ng Roman Empire, samut-saring bihis at anyo ang kinahinatnan, each resultant language shaped in the lathe of mindful activity of men and their milieux.

Ah, how cunning kenning can be, as evidenced by the technology and music borne out of German soil, or the artistry, design and cookery nurtured by the Spanish soul… indeed, we shape words, words shape us.

Sa 20-titik na abakada namulat at nagliyab ang bumbunan sa pagtuntong, paghakbang at pagsubsob sa mga aralin sapul dekada 1950, kaya sa ganoong nakagisnan naging bihasa, pilit nagpakadalubhasa, hindi makapanggahasa dahil bumibigay o ibinibigay nang kusa… old wolves like me aren’t that keen on learning or turning new tricks, content at sniffing new tracks and not so nubile a crack… aba’y kababayong pinipig ang di-mapigil na halimuyak.

Thank goodness for that 20-letter alphabet of a tongue I was born to… that had to be supplemented with a 26-letter English alphabet to lick through… upped twice with a 52-letter (not really letters but sound bits) scheme in Sanskrit… each bit of sound in that eldritch tongue corresponds to a part of the human body with its indwelling deity, to be roused from its slumber with enunciation… uh, Sanskrit is a tongue meant for adoration, for worship, for integration and healing with the divine… a language for intercourse with the gods.

Isa-isang isusulat sa pulot ang titik sa pinggan, ipapahimod ng unang guro—karaniwang magulang—sa musmos ang buong abakada. Para ipaalam sa musmos na may tamis ng kaalaman na mananamnam ng dila, matutuklas mula sa mga kataga… ganoon ang gawi ng mga Hudyo.

Iba namang gawi ang natutunan, didila sa labia… kasunod ng dilabia ang delubyo ng katas—at deliryo ng kaniig.

Can “jejemon” be as deliciously orgasmic as that?


Popular posts from this blog

Every single cell of my body's happy

I got this one from Carmelite Sisters from whose school three of my kids were graduated from. They have this snatch of a song that packs a fusion metal and liebeslaud beat and whose lyrics go like this:

"Every single cell of my body is happy. Every single cell of my body is well. I thank you, Lord. I feel so good. Every single cell of my body is well."

Biology-sharp nerds would readily agree with me in this digression... Over their lifetimes, cells are assaulted by a host of biological insults and injuries. The cells go through such ordeals as infection, trauma, extremes of temperature, exposure to toxins in the environment, and damage from metabolic processes-- this last item is often self-inflicted and includes a merry motley medley of smoking a deck a day of Philip Morris menthols, drinking currant-flavored vodka or suds, overindulgence in red meat or the choicest fat-marbled cuts of poultry and such carcass.

When the damage gets to a certain point, cells self-destruct. T…


Viagra au naturel

IT LOOKED eerie—a blaze of fireflies pulsing like stars in the nippy air, throbbing with mating passions. That show of lights somehow eased the shadows of a Holy Thursday night on a dry river bed a few kilometers trudge up Mount Makiling.

It’s likely that no river has lain in sleep for months on that moss-grown, boulder-strewn bed—except my 20-year old kid Kukudyu and I. We were out to spend the night, do on-site learning sessions by the next day. Usual father-and-son bonding. As the late Benjamin Franklin once begged: "Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn."

Past noon from the foot of the mountain’s northern section, it took us four hours ploughing non-stop through prickly bushes and forest undergrowth to get to that site. We got there in one bruised piece. By then, dusk was falling; the sylvan air hummed with a trill of crickets, cicadas, critters nameless in choral orison. That incessant “sh-r-r-e-eemmm---“ layered with “k-kr-r-eeengg--” …