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Usapan, isipan

THE tussle of sorts with a tactical interrogator in the Nueva Vizcaya hinterlands is a fart, just passing gas compared to whirlwinds that a sad child summons in the briefest of chit-chats… matinding usapan kailangan ng mas matalim na isipan.

Kabilang ang paslit sa pulutong na iginalugad sa maliit na latag ng kabundukan upang tukuyin, kilalanin ang samut-saring damo’t halamang ligaw na may pakinabang.
Babes in the woods likely to get lost in such treacherous terrain… yet even harsh topography can be rendered familiar, less forbidding, and even friendly for the adventurous.

And before we broke camp, I reminded the kids they can invite me as their Facebook friend… so I can “Ignore” them, duh, I didn’t have the heart for ignorance.

Mabubungkal ng mga paslit ang kung anu-ano mang isinalpak sa sariling pahina… at may pumansin sa retratong kipkip ko na tila bungkos ng aklat ang panganay na apo habang naglalakad sa patuto ng gulayan sa La Trinidad, Benguet… isinaad na nasa bahaging likod ng larawan naming maglolo ang bahay ng isa niyang tiyahin, doon daw siya nanunuluyan… at aanyayahan daw niya akong magbakasyon sa kanila… balak akong ipakilala sa kung sinu-sino.

Tulad sa naging pangunguna sa mga hakbang tungo sa pagtuklas sa ipinatahak na landas, kailangan muling pangunahan ang paslit na katalastasan…
they’ll chance upon me online, kindle a conversation.

Naimungkahi sa isa-- wala raw siyang mapupuntahan sa bakasyon-- na tumulong sa mga gawaing pambahay… para makagiliwan siya ng nanay, tatay, kapatid.

Hiwalay daw silang magkapatid ng tirahan kaya hindi sila madalas nagkikita. Matagal na ring hiwalay ang kanyang ama’t ina…
so I was chatting up the collateral damage to a domestic parting of ways.

Daig ko pa ang dinagukan sa isinulat na tugon ng bata… may sundot ng tinik sa dibdib ‘yon. Makabugbog-damdamin… pero kailangang malusutan nang hindi na kakalkalin pa o huhugutin ang anumang nakatimo sa isipan ng kausap…

Isinulat kong kahit musmos ay may dapat gampanang gawain at tungkulin, parang laro lang din ang mga gawaing-bahay… nakakapagpasigla ng katawan, nakakapagpalinaw sa isipan. At kung wala mang nanay, tatay o kapatid na makakaalam sa kanyang ginawa, meron namang
Diablolo Dong na matutuwa sa kanyang pagtalima.

May kasamang
smiley icon ang “Thank you” ng ka-chat… big deal. Kasi nahuli ko yata ang loob.

Sa isa naman na hiwalay din ang mga magulang, nagpatianod na lang… isinaad na mas madaling maunawa dahil mas malinaw ‘kako ang nasa isip at dibdib ng paslit… idinagdag pa na habang tumatanda, parang nahahalukay na tubig sa sapa ang isip at dibdib— marami nang putik at dumi ang humahalo… kaya lumalabo, kaya mas mahirap na lagukin… mapait o mapakla na sa lasa.


And what do we do with roiled muddy waters? We can’t wash the filth out. We just wait for the dirt and murk to settle to the bottom… and that takes lots of time… some patience, too.

So reading, even such taut notes online that hold a future in ransom… that can likely make a full man, (Burp! I’m full but what were the lean pickings have I feasted on?) Ambush conference may ready a man for the unexpected… and just maybe, addressing tender minds would call for sloughing calluses to requite the softness seeking for elderly affection.

Gusto ko yatang maniwala kay Dr. Jose Rizal na kabataan ang pigsa… pag-asa siguro na lumalaki’t kailangang sinupin, tipunin at tagniin ang mga nangapilas na pangarap. Just like Noah building an ark and trotting in a pair of each creation before the torrents of reckoning pours down…

Dumarami yata ang bilang ng mga apo na kailangang subaybayan… bigyan ng patnubay kahit paminsan-minsan lang, o kapag hinihingi na ng pagkakataon.

And the child’s name is not tomorrow after we adults have sorted out, cleaned up the mess… the child’s name is Now.

So on any day past lunch when they should be nudged to take a nap, a child chances upon me online tending to my e-mails… and tap out a gentle firestorm of a chat… and I’d burn, be charred.

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