Skip to main content

Haul’d long sigh…

FRENCH… romance… counters of men, lend me a few millions of pesos… oops, my ears are yours for the taking, talking, blowing a blaze of sighs into… a photojournalist who did hit jobs for the Left years back, he left the talking to whoever he was with… he won’t sing even under duress, why bother to tell where bodies are buried?

That attitude—he’d listen intently, showering the talker with earnest attention as if basking in the presence of the soul before him. That made him—rather homely looking-- a babe magnet, fair target for indecent proposals. A comely japayuki once baited him with her fat bank account, even asked him for deposits—the sort that spurts… pero hindi ATM ang kanyang budhi…

Kaya ‘kikinig lang din ako
… talc is a lot cheaper than make-up. But it does ease off freckles and wrinkles just don’t talc your head off.

So, please do so, so… get it off your chest… uh-duh, I wasn’t referring to that 40-D cup, uh-oh, okay, let me lend a hand… now that you can breathe easier you have the floor, speaker dear… I’ll take the bed to sleep in, uh, you sure you’re joining?

The rule, speakers always have the floor— no ifs, ands or butting in, listening entails a reservoir of patience. Such a reservoir ought to be as huge as Angat’s—dam if you do really listen, damned if you don’t.

Invitation to online chats is fine but nothing works up human biochemistry than a face-to-face conversation… say, I make an in-your-face pass that tugs at your heartstrings and purse-strings; you return the gesture, demonstrate your tender affection by making necessary arrangements to my profile with a fist… that’s so touching!

Banging out a stream of phrases on a keyboard is so tiresome, the words don’t carry color, timber and tone of mixed emotions that can be unfettered in saying or sighing… so dull, even the letters and misspellings come out in uniform… the hands stay on the keyboard, ah, hands ought to travel to, scour pockets and sockets elsewhere, where else?

So let’s do coffee with petit-fours or croissants… and chat. Or a few beers with snippets of food… and get a conversation kindled, do arson… maybe set a conflagration or a holocaust.

Masaya ang harapan sa pakikipag-usap, pakikiusap. Mas makatuturan ang harapang pakikinig sa kausap.

Renowned plant breeder Luther Burbank soothed apprehensions, cooed at and coaxed a prickly pear cactus to shed off her spines… and she did so.

That goes to show the wonders of tenderness and intimacy that face-to-face conversation can touch off—Burbank did pull it off.

I’d likely do something similar—pull your legs or a tendon, maybe shed a fear or tear… hear and glisten.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ALAMAT NG TAHONG

SAKBIBI ng agam-agam sa kalagayan ng butihing kabiyak-- at kabiyakan, opo-- na nakaratay sa karamdaman, ang pumalaot na mangingisda ay napagawi sa paanan ng dambuhalang Waczim-- isang bathala na nagkakaloob sa sinuman anumang ibulwak ng bibig mula sa bukal ng dibdib. Pangangailangan sa salapi na pambili ng gamot ng kapilas-pusong maysakit ang nakasaklot sa puso ng matandang mangingisda. 'Di kaginsa-ginsa'y bumundol ang kanyang bangka sa paanan ng Waczim. Kagy at umigkas ang katagang kimkim noon sa kanyang dibdib: "Salapi!" Bumuhos ng salapi-- mga butil at gilit ng ginto-- mula papawirin. At halos umapaw sa ginto ang bangka ng nagulantang na mangingisda, walang pagsidlan ang galak, at walang humpay ang pasasalamat sa mga bathala. Nanumbalik ang kalusugan ng kabiyak ng mangingisda. At lumago ang kabuhayan, naging mariwasa ang magkapilas-puso na dating maralita. Nilasing ng kanyang mga dating kalapit-bahay ang mangingisda-- na hindi ikina...

Cal y canto con camote

FENG shui (literally, wind water flow) lore has it root crops embody a hidden store of treasures. Say, a local food conglomerate needs yearly 35,000 metric tons of cassava for livestock feed-- the available local supply falls short of 13,000 tons. Cassava granules sell for around P9 a kilo. Demand for the same root crop to be used in liquor manufacturing is hitting above the roof. Why, raising cassava is a no-brainer task— this is one tough crop that can grow in the most hostile patches of earth, providing sustenance for ages to dwellers in sub-Saharan parts of Africa. While the hardy cassava is nearly pure starch, the lowly sweet potato or kamote is considered by nutritionists as a super food, the most nutritious of all vegetables— kamote levels of Vitamin A are “off the charts, rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties.” A fist-sized kamote can supply a day’s dose of glucose to fuel the brain, muscles, and organs, so they claim. Count the country lucky...

Wealth garden

‘TWAS CRUEL as smashing a budding green thumb: some years back, an abuela warned me about letting any clump of katigbi (Job’s tears or Coix lachrymal jobi for you botanists) from growing in our homeyard. That grass with rapier-like leaves that smelled of freshly pounded pinipig supposedly invited bad luck and sorrows—why, that biblical character Job wailed and howled a lot, didn’t he? (But was later rewarded with oodles of goodies, wasn’t he?) Then, I came across some arcane text that practically goaded folks to grow katigbi in their gardens—why, there’s a starchy kernel wrapped shut in the seed’s shiny coat. A handful or more of kernels could be cooked as porridge. Too, one could whisper a wish upon seven seed pods, throw ‘em pods in running water—a river or stream—and the wish would be granted! I was warned, too, about planting kapok or talisay trees right in the homeyard—these trees form a cross-like branching pattern. Pasang-krus daw ang bahay na kalapit sa puno ng kapok, tal...