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Saturday, October 29, 2005

paraisong parisukat

sa pagbabalik kay inay, sa sinapupunan nyang taglay, kayang ipagpawalang-bahala ang mapanirang dakma ng bagyong halimaw. sa panahong ito, kasagsagang ganap ang unos at asulang dagitab, narito ako't daig pa ang basang inakay: baluktot ang mga binti, tiklop ang leeg, subsob ang ulo sa mapagbunying mga tuhod

anupaba't tinaguriang luxury condominium ang kinasasadlakang kastilyo ng di naman hari, di naman prinsipe, di naman duke o payaso na lang kaya

kung ihahambing natin ang buhay sa balasang baraha, marahas, madulas, sanay sa manipulasyon ng institusyong mandaraya

8:30 ng umaga, ang walk-in-closet ang ipinagbubunying sinapupunan, narito ang kaligtasan (at katinuang kakapranggot na lang ang natitira, hango pa nung nakaraang dekada) at alinsunod sa babala ng gobyerno

"find refuge in a room without window"

ito si inay, paraisong parisukat ng isang bilig na tulad ko, nangangatog sa gutom, nanginginig sa pagsulpot-sulpot ng kakaibang tunog at kulay, mabuti na lang at dala ko ang kaisipang handog ni marcel proust

"the hope of being relieved gives us the courage to suffer"

sa kabila ng kadiliman, dala ko ang flashlight at aklat; sa kabila ng binubulabog na katahimikan, dala ko ang cd at cdplayer. binuksan ko ang katiting na ilaw, niladlad ko ang tangang tanglaw; pinatugtog ko ang musikang hatid ng masigasig na alemang di kaylanman nanaising mapusyaw

ginoong john cheever, kwentuhan mo ako
ginoong franz schubert, haranahin mo ako

narito ang buhay; dito sa mumunting paraiso, kakayanin kong magtapang-tapangan: hurakang wilma, mambulabog ka na dyan!

Friday, October 28, 2005

LIVING AND DANCING IN DIMENSION U

1. When I was a teener, 15 or 16 maybe, somebody pointed a gun at me. That somebody was Somebody because he was a known hood and our town was a poor carryover from the gangsterhood of old wild west. I remember that day as much as our town (and us townfolks) which lies between 4th and 5th class: There were three of us friends sitting atop the concrete fence of a Catholic Church and waiting for another friend to get through his scheduled "panhik" when Somebody came to us and confronted M.

2. M, my childhood bud, was one of the gutsiest persons I know. He fought with men twice his size, age, and street-brawl experience, and never backed out from any fight except, I guess, with his father and older brothers. One amazing thing with him was that he always maintained the requirements of vanity and hygiene even in the messy world of caterwaul; whenever the dust cleared, the first thing he always did was comb his hair even before he knocked the cake off his sullied pants. M was also the life of tambayan, and due to his bangkero attitude, we lovingly called him Volume.

3. Mr. Somebody probably heard of the young Volume's tough acts and adventures and must not have liked it. The place where we were, after all, was his turf (the baranggay, I mean, and not the church; he was the devil incarnate) and he probably did not like some youth rising in toughery establish a cult following right at his very doorstep. It was an old code in gangsterism: "kanya-kanyang teritoryo".

4. S: "Bata, nakikilala mo ba ako?"
V: "Oo naman."
S: "Kung ganoon, bakit parang napakatapang mo?"
V: "Wala naman kaming ginagawa. Nakaupo lang kami dito, inaantay namin si Pikoy."
S: "Ah, leche! Alam mo bang marami ka pang bigas na kakainin bago ka makapantay sa akin?"
V: "Hindi."
S: "Anong hindi?"
V: "Hindi ako kumakain ng bigas. Kanin ang pinapakain sa akin ng nanay ko."
S: "Pilosopo ka, ah! Baka barilin kita."

5. I was having fun with the exchange and knew how capable V could stand his ground, verbally, physically, against this disenfranchised moron. V can put his money where his mouth was, and he can put his fist where S's mouth was - I knew that, though I wasn't aware of his next move. Alas, his next move was this: he feigned a yawn, stretched his arms upwards, and before anybody could capture his thoughts the full force of his anger, the full force of his body weight, the full force of his fist, landed on S's misbegotten face.

6. The grace of gravity was upon S and it would have been timely if the church bells rung at that very moment. It took S two lonely steps backwards before disequilibrium got the better of him. He fell on the pavement, flat on his back.

7. S was cupping his face with both hands which, if I may borrow from some movie, was just fan-bloody-tastic!

8. I was so caught in the moment like a kid with a favorite cotton candy that I realized afterwards V and my other friend were gone. I was stupidly sitting alone on the fence and, for sure, in all innocence if not ignorance, was simply waiting for trouble to my person.

9. S stood up, pulled a caliber .45 from his waist, came towards me and aimed the gun to my face. The tip of the barrel can't be farther than two feet from the tip of my nose, and the meeting of my skin and his steel can't be lesser than ten seconds. Out of anywhere but my consciousness, or probably with the full (literal) backing of the church, I challenged: "Sige, iputok nyo".

10. Suddenly the sign of rage disappeared from his convoluted face and ego, and without muttering anything, S put the gun back to its proper holster and went to the direction where my two friends fled. I was left sitting atop the fence, frozen in time, and thawed only by the sudden presence of Pikoy who asked for the whereabouts of the other two. In all effort to speak, all I could mumble was for him to help me get down the fence.

11. Ten years ago at the office we hired Ingrid, a Colombian, who claimed to have a third eye. On our first meeting, after I gave my name and shared some niceties, she said to me with a straight face and without logic: "I can see that you are protected."

12. As I looked out the window and into the darkness of the city I saw some strange phenomenon. Flashes of blue light from the horizon and across the dark sky appeared at a frequency of twice every minute, for about half an hour, accompanied by eerie sounds of tik, tik, tik. It was 6:30 a.m. Monday, October 24, 2005, and the winds were a whopping hundred miles per hour, whipping the population like some abusive, disgruntled, force of nature. From all directions I can hear these creepy sounds, at times like whistles of trains, other times like the muffled crying of beasts on their way to their butchery, and I was scared, frozen in time, like some scared teenager aged 15, or 16 maybe.

13. I asked myself, in everyone's absence, how in the world - how in my life - could I ever imagined being terrorized by the color blue. I asked myself, in Ingrid's absence, Protected by whom? And from what?

Sunday, October 23, 2005

http://www - hurricane to this pinoy://wantonly waiting for wilma

i'm watching the news right now, 11:55 pm sunday, and find amusement in people's attitude - or is it aptitude? - towards wilma: 1) a neighborhood in key west organized a hurricane watch party and made sure the host have enough inventory of booze to last them thru morning in their confidently shuttered refuge; 2) the elbow club in ft. lauderdale agreed to close at 1 am upon the prodding of city officials, perhaps to the disappointment of habitues in the habit of chilling out, sillying out, till the rising sun tells them, hey punks, it's morning and i'm out, time to go home to mama.

wilma, of course, is the last hurricane in the greek order of the alphabet to hit this partying part of the globe that is certainly not the least, certainly not the last, and if you're german or hails from lipa in batangas you may pronounce the intruder as "vilma". which brings me to ask, why are hurricanes named after women?

the movie "traffic" suggests an answer, via this mexican dude playing cop telling a suspected drug dealer, "because when they arrive they're wet and wild, and when they leave they take your house and car" or something of that sort that may make the distaff side agitated like no storm can ever do.

ladies, i did not say that, i did not adopt that, and i certainly did not believe that mexican dude, never mind if at this very moment i am feasting on tostitos nachos dipped in salsa picante, my hurricane hoard of choice, but i can only surmise that hurricanes, like the philippines' typhoons, are all female-named because they are unpredictable, their plans undeterminable up until the last minute.
------
time check: 12:47 am, monday, and my stormtracker tells me the hurricane is now category 3, in the same longitude as key west, 100 miles west, threatening a landfall in naples with a storm surge of 8 feet. to orient you, as much as myself, key west is 200 miles, 3 hours drive, and naples is only 60 miles, 1 hr drive - from where i am right now.

miami is where i am right now.

this morning i was in a meeting with 7 people, wearing my favorite blue suit with yellow shirt with my favorite yellow tie (a gift from jet david) and one of them asked me, "sir, are you ready for this hurricane?", and i said "yes of course, don't i look it?", and she was kind of straight up, "no, sir you don't, you look like you're going to a banquet".

i tell these guys the tools of my trade, they tell me the nuances of their city. "a tornado has a very distinct sound", one explained, "like the humming of a train." i said my thanks, with hint of sarcasm, "well, then, it's not really distinct, is it?"

if the city is the teacher of the man, then it tells me why miamians know how to party in darkness. they know their lesson, they know their drill. the birds are a huge part of their storm tracking wisdom, and the last time i checked, which was about noontime yesterday, there was a flock of cockatoos circling above me, chirping frantically. if they're here, does that mean the hurricane is actually hitting some place? unless of course their frantic chirping was their way of telling me, hey you, idiot of a man, get the hell out of there.

joseph conrad once said that writing is the act of converting our nervous energy into language.

i am so very obvious.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

cbsreview: Elizabethtown

There are two defining moments in the movie. One is when stewardess Claire (Kirsten Dunst) said to passenger Drew (Orlando Bloom), while he is about to exit the plane en route to Elizabethtown: "We are intrepid. We carry on".

The other is when Drew was contemplating on his deceased father and he was searching for the proper word to describe the kind of smile he (the father) has while lying in his coffin: "Uhmm, uh...whimsical!"

to be continued...naaantok na ako.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

SENTENTIAE

Life sucks (daw, o) -

Sabi sa kin nung onse anyos na bata (rotten age, I know) na anak nung dating manager ng condo nang minsang ipinasyal ko sa isang computer store: "c, life sucks", sabi ba naman. "Why?", laking gulat ko; tuwang-tuwa kasi syang naglalaro ng computer games tas biglang tumigil saka nag-angas na parang tanga. "Because you eat, you sleep, you play computer, and then you die!", sabi nyang punong-puno ng counter-strike na pighati.

Death is always new.

"If life sucks", nandidilat kong paliwanag, "then you should find death a relief".

"But I wanted to play computer forever", kontra struck-out nya.

Biglang bumigat ang ulo ko at nagparang bobble head na natanggal ang pagkakakapit sa spring. Sumayad ang pananaw ko sa lupa, tila nag-aapuhap ng maaaring maipayo ng konkreto. Bumuntonghininga na lang ako ng sagad sa katotohanan.

"Mali", sabi ng bibig ko.

"Computer sucks."

Sunday, October 09, 2005

wala akong maisip isulat kaya magkukwento na lang ako ng kababalaghan.

may isang babaeng teen-ager na gaya ko, walang pera, di-gaya ko, malakas ang loob, ang kumatok sa isang kabahayan upang gumawa ng pera.

tok-tok-tok, sabi ng katok nya. ikk-ikk-ikk, sabi nung pinto habang binubuksan ng may-ari ng bahay (lalaki).

teen-ager: sir, matalino po ako, tsaka masipag. kelangan ko ng pera, baka meron kayong gustong ipagawa kahit ano, gagawin ko sa murang halaga.
lalaki: hmmm, teka, ang kelangan lang namin dito e mapintahan ang porch. kaya mo ba yun?
teen-ager: kayang-kaya ko po, ako pah!
lalaki: o sige, eto isang galong pintura, pintahan mo ang porch at bibigyan kita ng limampung piso.
teen-ager: okidoki (sabay kuha ng pintura).

umakyat na si lalaki sa kwarto at sinabi sa misis nya ang transaksyon. "grabeh kah!", sabi ni misis. "napakalaki ng porch, nakapalibot sa buong bahay. alam ba nung pobre kung ano ang pinasok nya sa halagang php 50.00?" "oo naman", sagot ni lalaki, "nakatayo sya sa porch e di alam nya ang sinusuungan nya.

makalipas ang isang oras, kumatok si teen-ager at pinagbuksan sya ni lalaki. "sir, tapos na po," sabi ni teen-ager.

"pinintahan mo ba lahat, pinalibutan mo?", tanong ni lalaki.

"syempre naman po", pagmamalaki ng teen-ager. "sa katunayan nga po, may natira pang pintura matapos kong palibutan, kaya ginawa ko, nilagyan ko sya ng isa pang coating."

natuwa syempre si lalaki at ubod laki ng natipid nya; sa katuwaan binigyan nya si teen-ager ng isandaang piso. "o, ayan, kasama na ang pabuya".

"ha-ha-ha, salamat po bosing", sagot ni teen-ager na di mapigilan ang tuwa.

tas, paalis na sya ng biglang bumalikwas at sabi ke lalaki...

"ngapo pala bosing, di po porch yun, ferrari yun".