Wanted: Wet nurse for Musa

Taka ng kumadre sa marive_94061@yahoo.com:
AS any adult, I fear failure on this course on walking just because I get too lazy and tired sometimes. Where do these kids get all their energy? I drink as much milk as they do, what gives?

Tuka ng kumpadre sa tagakataga@yahoo.com:
THANKS for mom’s mammary, the milk of maternal kindness is 2.38% protein at birth, tapers down to around 1.2% percent protein in six months. The insane notion that humans need huge amounts of protein—that consequently wears down both liver and kidneys—has prompted infant formula manufacturers and dairy industries to dump tons of killer protein melamine in milk formula with the view to increased protein levels that make the grade in current industry-recommended tests. How stupid!

I’ve been asking around for a wet nanny for our Musa—her mom’s breast has ceased churning out the ichor apt to nurse a growing goddess, well, it’s the work stress and the frenzied humdrum of workaday deadlines she has to slog through… that won’t be healthy lapping for Musa. Or any infant for that matter.

A friend is volunteering her 38-year old aunt who’s nursing a one-year old. I’m asking for an interview to figure out 38-24-36, I mean, the prospective wet nurse’s eating regimen, psychological make-up, stress factors that can impact on lactation and add-on hormones, all that jazz that goes into the minutiae of lactose quality.

Brujo verde y verdadero ang lolong ito ni Musa, talagang lintik sa quality control which entails-- to make a clean breast of it—exploring shapely fleshy knoll and suckling that nursing mom’s ample samples.

Ay, tatlong manikurista na pala ang tahasang nagsabi sa ‘kin, ang ganda raw ng hubog ng mga paa ko… parang sa alpombra o carpets lang daw sanay yumapak… parang hindi kailanman tumuntong sa lupa… kasi nga’y hindi pumipitpit o yumuyurak, buong lamyos at banayad na yumayapos sa pisngi ng lupa ang talampakan ko sa paglalakad. No heavy tread as a gesture of respect to Gaea or Mother Earth whose son Antheus drew strength from such contact with terra firma.

I’ll be off with the missus to riparian parts of Pangasinan. To celebrate some peace and quiet for the year ahead. I’ll be doing some cart wheels on the sand, perform a storm dance or two (which sends me a modest downpour), a few hours of hatha yoga head stand—this has a tendency to revert grey hairs to midnight black so I won’t be doing much, I like the flowering talahib crowning my head—and some chi nei tsang practice on boles of coconut palms.

For humans, body reflexes hit their peak at 39—so we wander and trudge through in a wilderness, going around in circles like the Moses-led nation on the march spent 40 years on before settling down to a hardscrabble tract of real estate. Myelin sheaths in our brains wear out at 40… and we wonder if life really begins by running to stand still (thanks to the Irish band U2 for the idiom) when we get to 40.

Palaka... plog!

ANYAYAHAN ang kahit isang palakang kabkab— toad, the ugly-looking venomous and warty sort akin to adversity, “wears yet a precious jewel in its head/and this our life exempt from public haunt/ find tongues in trees/ books in running brooks/ sermons in stones…/ and good in everything.”

Kapag namamalagi ang palakang kabkab sa inyong halamanan o bakuran, pagpasok ng salapi sa inyong bulsa’t tahanan ay maalwan… magaan.

Kakaiba ang awit o bukambibig na mantra ng palakang kabkab kaysa mga talamak na palakanto’t palakanta. Taimtim na paanyaya sa pagpuksa sa mga sagabal sa maginhawang pamumuhay ang inihahasik sa paligid ng palakang kabkab. Toads sound out a Sanskrit seed syllable, an earnest prayer of thanks… an attitude of gratitude that nudges deities and angelic beings to heap their blessings and rain bounties upon the household.

Mariwasang tauhan ni William Shakespeare sa “As You Like It” ang nagsaad sa kabuluhan ng res privata, the primacy of privacy— na katugon ng res publica, republika na nakaukol sa usaping pamayanan. At palakang kabkab nga ang masigasig na sagisag ng sagana’t mainam na pamumuhay… kung ititiwalag ang mga usyoso’t mahilig manghimasok, ah, our life exempt from public haunt.

Sapol din pala ni Shakespeare ang payong feng shui hinggil sa palakang kabkab.

Sa palayok na may nakatanim na sagittaria madalas tumalungko ang mga kasambahay naming palakang kabkab—tatlo sila. May isang paminsan-minsang sumasalampak sa talukap ng taklobong sanaw sa tubig sa tabi ng pintuan, nakikinig na mataman sa alimbukay ng himig ng “Water Music” ni George Frederick Handel. O pagala-gala sa yamungmong ng mga halaman sa dakong timog silangan, hindi na nga pinapansin ng aming mga aso’t pusa.

Ah, that croaking choir melded with distant thunder, an incessant downpour, and chirp of crickets can shunt the brain waves into a theta mode… the skein that a Buddhist lama weaves his awareness into during deep meditation…

Dalawang aklat-pangkalusugan ng mga bata ang kailangan kong isalin sa Pilipino sa 2009, hindi maipagkatiwala sa iba ang pagsasalin… P2.50 bawat kataga ang bayad… tig-40,000 kataga o higit pa ang English version niyong dalawang aklat… na ako rin ang sumulat… hahaba ang bawat pangungusap… dagdag-bayad.

I’ve told the book publishers years back that Pilipino isn’t exactly a technical tongue, why, I’m often beset with the technical inadequacy of the language… take edible frogs, venomous toads and execrable toadies that defy translation in our tongue… tugak na madalas dagitin ng tagak ay palakang bukid ang taguri, ginagawang batute… na kapag nasobrahan talaga nang lantak, mapapako sa hatinggabi o tanghaling tapat ang tagdan ng orasan sa hinaharap, kailangang sa hiwa ng hiwaga maitarak…

“Toad” isn’t palaka, it has to be translated as palakang kabkab…

Sapin sa paa

NAG-ABOT ang Egay Serrano ng P500 sa isang maybahay—solong magulang, tinutustusan ang isang anak, naaamutan pa ang ilang kaanak sa karaniwang P100 sang-araw na tubo ng maliit na tindahan. Tiyak na mauuwi ang iniabot ng katoto sa dagdag-puhunan niyong tindahan. Lalago’t lalago kahit katiting lang ang halagang iyon.

Katumbas ng halagang pinakawalan ni Serrano ang tinatawag na “double happiness” sa wikang Tsino. Natukoy sa isang pananaliksik nitong 2008 na may hatid na ligaya ang P250 na ilalaan sa kapwa sa araw-araw— nagbigay at dinoble ng Egay ang ganoong halaga. May kalakip na ngiti ang nagbigay. Hindi naman makapaniwala’t may sukling ngiti ang binigyan. Double happiness.

‘Yung lukot lang ng pagmumukha ng tatay ni Kris Aquino sa P500 ang sakbibi ng lungkot.

Nah, I’d rather not peg a measure of happiness on monetary quantum doled each day to just anybody. Why, members of a certain toil cartel called OPECPEC, female sex workers lurking or lurching along pocked pockets of Avenida Rizal in Sta. Cruz, Manila or Aurora Blvd., in Cubao, Quezon City—they’re busy bodies, P300 to P500 a pop. Nagpapaligaya rin sila sa kapwa. Mas marangal pa nga sila kaysa mga batugan na laging nakatunganga, naghihintay ng biyaya.

Yeah, it is likely Christ’s beatitudes can only refer to those with upbeat attitudes—blessed are the poor in spirit, so the first of the nine attitudes are trotted… ah, the spiritually famished may have to imbibe currant-flavored vodka, armagnac, or similar robust spirits… and blessed indeed are the cross-eyed for they shall see God twice…

Kibit-balikat nang mailahad sa ‘kin ang tungkol sa magkapatid na walang sapin sa paa.. yapak na pumapasok sa eskuwela… hikahos ang mga magulang, ni hindi makabili ng tsinelas para sa kanilang anak… kapag may iniingatang yaman ang kalooban, lalabas at lalabas ‘yan.

‘Tang ina kasi ng pagiging maparaan at malikhain ang pangangailangan.

Uhugin pa ‘kong paslit nang makakita ng kotso, bakya o clogs na gawa mula sa tinilad na kawayan… na mas matindi kung hahaginit sa mukha ni George W. Bush… samut-saring laruan nga ang nauukit namin mula sa kawayan… makakakuha ng samut-saring sangkap sa tabi-tabi lang lalo’t nasa kanayunan…

Nakakita na rin ako ng mga damong karagumoy at ragiwdiw na tinayantang, nilala… mukhang mamahaling sandalyas ang kinalabasan…

Nakakita na rin ako ng sandalyas na hinabi mula sa mga tangkay ng palay… pati nga tatami o alpombrang Hapon ay habi mula sa dayami…

Sa’n magmumula ang mga payak na kasangkapan sa pamumuhay kundi sa yaman ng kalooban?

Kaya kahit sa pagtulong, timpi at tipid pa rin ako. ‘Yun ngang pinakahuling inamutan ko ng tulong, namilipit pa’t nagkikisay. Humahalinghing: “Aah… yours is too long!”

Kapag may imbak na yaman sa kalooban, lalabas at lalabasan ‘yan.

Mwa-ha-ha-haw!

Running to stand still

Liham ng kumadre sa marive_94061@yahoo.com:
AM just now learning the concept of kronos compared to the staid and definitive linear time even as my culture memory is steeped in it. Asian--particularly, the Filipino-- sensibility flows on circular movement of time where the point of a start or of an end is never acutely discernible. It is a blessing and a curse. Therein lies your child-like grip to a firmly-grounded present as well as Nietzsche’s concept of eternal return. He was sensible enough to glance at the world as if time was gone in order to understand such cycle. Must have been a challenge had you faced each other in a time continuum that brought you holding and accepting kismet and fate as cursives to a present we HAVE to believe in; even, as he looked how crooked things can look straight when knowing that the world is spinning between here and no longer.

You know, I will go back to our lessons in aikido to expound on my evolving meditative awareness. It is completely different from the one I learned in my profession and as different as the writer's muse whispering ear-worms. I am now in beginner's level 2. My body is responding voluntarily and easily to daily pilatesian and yogic summons and it is good. My boy-mentor just reached his 7th hundred-years, it seems, last week and he challenges me still by his ability to stand or sit in stillness when he should be driving everyone crazy. Can they really be so young and yet so old? I am now learning to stand still and listen to decibels beyond the hearing of the ordinary listeners. Yes, I know how it feels to be looked at like an alien or a crazed being just because I am developing new modes of communicating and understanding. Wala akong pakialam. Why, that feels good, saying that.

Another part of the course is walking. A course in walking? Yes, barefoot. With thin cardboard slippers. In Nike walk-abouts. In Goretex hikers. On pebble. On sand. On cement. On wood. On green, green grass. On hot. On cold. On ice. In water. Against sand. In a minute. In five. In an hour. For hours on a pair of shoes the sensei will choose-- that will be my final exam for this course. (Btw, I did so well in the falling exam, I won a bamboo sword. How about that? But between us, I felt like a thief getting one while the little ones clapped on.) I look forward towards the torment and joyous enlightenment my sensei promises. In this course, the feet rules. The world rests on it and perceptions of the experience defines how a student will finish the complete beginner's level.

Hilam ng kumpadre sa tagakataga@yahoo.com:
ASTIG talaga ‘yung batang binanggit mo—it takes mental mettle to rein the body to a stillness of sorts… well, life’s a whirl… even a snail’s shell configures a swirl of winds hurling out even shadows on its path.

Remember Ray Bradbury’s “A Sound of Thunder”— at a point in a time continuum, a wee butterfly was crushed underfoot… And so much was lost, generations of greens that could have fed multitudes and sprung forth civilizations, gone in a careless… senseless… insensate step…

Taking steps can be so sublime. I can’t let you in on how walking the walk is done. Can’t share my sturdy nimble legs… and they tell me I’ve been investing lots of time, exertions, and insertions between some damsels’ legs… mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw!

Martial elders have it, it takes around 30 years to absorb the spirit of the108 movements in taikiken… and the learner has to gain mastery over those moves before moving on to walking meditation… aikido is moving meditation, poetry in motion… malupit talaga ano? And all it boils down to is nurturing that all-aware feeling of being at home in one’s body—beyond the confines of kinesiology, anthropometrics, milieu, time or terrain…

“Time won’t leave me as I am, but time won’t take out the child in this man,” so ululated U2’s Bono in allusion to Jesus Christ’s counsel to worldly-wise savant Joseph of Arimathea, “Unless you become a child again, you will not enter the kingdom of God.”

Christmas is for kids like Musa and the kid in you and me— no kidding.

Apúntalo o te vas a olvidar

Saad ng kumadre sa marive_94061@yahoo.com:
I TOOK Mandarin, Nippongo, German and French in the 90's for want of anchor, expression as well as solutions to matters that cloyed at me. I figured know more than three languages and the answers will follow. NOT. Not true, either. At first, I marveled at and delved on the daily lessons at first. Ako lang yata ang enrolled in four languages. You should have seen the registrar's clerk. Nakangisi ba naman ang damuho as he said, "English not enough for answers, huh?" Years later, today, I grasp at his meaning and his wisdom. Oo nga. Why need all these languages when one only needs the simplest-- or, even the best one, there is: the filled silence and quietude of the knowing heart. My conclusions early were useless, irrelevant to the true worth of the languages.

Your Chinese is it. You're right. No wonder the world and its many secrets were so easy for this race to muster, to master and lord over. They conquered and ruled it, remember? The world was explained in short, tersely concise terms: a world unconjugated, impermutated, untransformed, uncluttered with tenses and times must have been so easy to rule. The laws of order and the language were singularly austere and powerful. This skill I still need to learn. This was the essence that eluded me when I was trying to cram for answers by spreading my bases thin over modes of expression that did not prove kind to my ennui.

Sadsad ng kumpadre sa tagakataga@yahoo.com:
INIWAN ko silang subsob sa usapan… mas angkop sabihin, asapan o pausok lang… spinmeister ng pulitiko at babaeng peryodista na nag-aaral daw ng abugasya dahil wala lang magawa sa buhay.

Hindi naman nabubulabog ng pausok na siga ang mga pesteng kulisap sa punong mangga. Lalong hindi nauuntag ng asap ang mga usbong upang mamulaklak… it’s the potassium content in the bonfire’s leftover ashes that coaxes the tree into flowering. Kaya kaanak na kemikal na pang-embalsamo sa tusino’t longganisa ang panghilamos-dahon ng mga namamakyaw ng mangga. Para mauntag sa pamumulaklak ang puno.

Sabi nga’y paligiran na lang ng abo ng sinunog na ipa ang puno— strew chaff reduced to charnel and ash, to the essential element that touches off flowering. Bakit pa kailangan ang maligoy na pasiklab ng apoy, paghahasik ng makakaluoy na init at asap? Both action and words can be reduced to their essence…

Ganoong mga larawan ang kidlat na gumuguhit sa ulunan ko. Kaya iniwan ang spinmeister sa pulitika at pulpol na peryodista.

Sapol ni Solomon sa Kawikaan 10:19, “Ikinukubli sa baha ng mga kataga ang mga kasinungalingan… kaya maingat magbitiw ng salita ang paham.”

Ah, Tagalog as we know it reportedly has over 80 skeins in Batangas, derived from “batangan,” earthen water vessel. At may mga nalulunod nga sa sambasong tubig… may naghihilamos… nagmumumog… nagtatampisaw… lumalangoy. Gagawing salaminan ng sarili ang tining-linaw ng tubig.

Masarap din naman—sa Batangas-- ang “chocolate ah.” Aguado.

Gatla ng gunita sa tubig

TUMATALAB hanggang ikapitong salinlahi ang sumpa ng makata.

Huwag mangamba ni mabahala— that’s only for Irish poets and Celtic bards initiated in priestly function, hindi sa mga sampay-bakod na nagsasalansan ng mga taludtod na naglipana daw sa mga dalubhasaan at pamantasan sa bansa.

Igpaw na agad: nahapyawan namin ang patalastas sa pahayagan na magbibigay ng panayam sa Makati si Dr. Masaru Emoto hinggil sa mga katangian ng tubig. Hindi na pinansin. Pulos mga kilabot na basketbolero o basketbulaan kasi ang kinuhang endorsers para sa panayam.

Lumitaw sa pananaliksik ni Emoto na tahasang nalilimbagan ng gunita ang tubig. Masasalinan ng kamandag ng masamang pita. Madadalisay kapag nilagakan ng taimtim na dalangin.

Kaya tiyak na makabutas-bubong ang tubo ng utang na nakalista sa tubig.

Meron pa ngang nabungkal: “In 2006, Emoto published a paper together with Dean Radin and others in the peer-reviewed Explore: The Journal of Science and Healing, in which they describe that in a double blind test approximately 2000 people in Tokyo could increase the aesthetic appeal of water stored in a room in California, compared to water in another room, solely through their positive intentions.”

Pero wala raw batayan sa kanluraning agham ang pamamaraan pati na natuklasan ni Emoto sa kanyang pananaliksik sa kakaibang katangian ng tubig. Kaya lumalabas na wala pa ring binatbat sa scientific community si Emoto.

Sana’y hindi na nga ipinagkalat pa anumang natukoy ni Emoto— na magiging dalisay kapag binasbasan ng lama o Buddhist priest ang tubig na tigmak sa polusyon.

Na ang talagang pinupuntirya ng makatang ollave, bard or druid ay ang taglay na tubig sa katawan— about 75% of the human brain and the entire body is water-- ng kupal na kasumpa-sumpa.

Na kung isang wannabe President Mar Roxas lang ang hahagupit ng mahayap na kataga sa tropang “Ale Baba and Plenty Thieves,” the assault by insult would just be shrugged off and won’t cause a whit of harm.

Roxas isn’t a bard, neither is he a poet. Was he ever initiated in arcane priestly function as lamas, brujos, curanderas, warlocks, and shamans are?

Pinakamalambing ko yatang pusa si Hsing-I, na halaw naman ang ngalan sa isang pamamaraan sa wushu para gatlaan ng pamatay na lagda ang 75% of the human body component which is mostly water… may matitira pa namang beef jerky at mga buto sa katawan matapos upakan ng hsing-i.

Lilimasin lang ang tubig sa buong katawan. Paunti-unti. Hindi biglaang pagpatay.

Lumiligwak sa galak marahil ang mga gunitang inilimbag noon ng aking mga musmos na supling sa kanilang pagtatampisaw sa mga bukal at batis ng Makiling at Sierra Madre… tiyak na may nakalagok na ng kahit gapatak niyon, nakatighaw sa lungkot at uhaw… o pumailanlang na sa mga ulap at paulit-ulit na ihahaplos ng ambon saanmang latag ng lupain.

Ferdinand Marcos noon, Manny Pacquiao ngayon

Sa kalatas-Facebook inilatag ng kumadreng liyag:
STRANGE that you mentioned FM--the only nationalist worth his weight in historical gold, George Lucas' “Star Wars,” tadhana (btw, FM's “Iginuhit ng Tadhana” attests to your premise about the word's origins and its iteration to matters of fate and predestination) to siddhana. Henry Miller once described the exemplars that move the world do so with example more than doctrine. Whether they be great leaders or the evil forces in a much-loved sci-fi film anthology, he calls them "poets of (repeatable and discernible, my terms) action who make a little difference whether they be forces for good or forces for evil." I understand that this eschews predestination, then, even as fate clings and controls, huh?

Wordsmith-ing is such a consuming, lonely task. One can create any truth and it does not really matter whether it works, sells, is believed or understood. I see your writing such as this and I wonder how lonely it gets up, out, down there? This above favorite author says it so well, "honest criticism does not really matter; what one (really) wants is unrestrained passion: fire for fire."

Boy! The Santa Cruz Mountains and forests proved too spooky. Marami yatang mga kaluluwang sumama sa akin. I came home more afire than the quiet, stillness, emptiness and calm I went to seek.

So much for that. I think if I don't close this down, I am down the road to perdition.

Halik sa Musang liyag. Mabuti na lang malayo ako at walang bigote.

Iginatla ng kumpadreng Kulamnista:
FM was into saddhana… raja yoga-- so I was once told by an elder who was into such arcane studies—that had his mind steeled and honed sharper than a scalpel’s. He was gyre that sucked into his maelstrom the brightest lights of his era to steer the course of our nation’s history. All we’ve got to show for somehow is Manny Pacquiao. And he isn’t exactly into statecraft. The era of winners segued to a generation of whiners…

Character is kismet, fate is character— or whatever’s done in the past is done in the here and now, will be done again and again in the future. Or the unforgiving burden of an eternal return (as Friedrich Nietzsche has it). Uh, that underpins my fascination with the Chinese tongue: no tenses, no verb transformations, conjugations and permutations to peg a time segment. Just a child-like grip on the continuum of a present moment.

May mga kalapit-bahay na buong maghapon at magdamag na nakatunganga lang sa akin… mayroong running commentary sa bawat gawi’t gawa ko sa araw-araw na pamumuhay. I go through stationary meditation postures, nothing fancy, to nurture the life force that can be unleashed for healing or killing—chi, rei-ki, prana, menstruum, maybe kalimasada. Pikang-pika ang mga hinayupak na nagmimiron, pulos kantiyaw.

Ah, genius or unfathomed depths of understanding can be a quantum of solace. Stupidity is immeasurable. Anyway, a recent paper from King’s College of London dumps political correctness, points up that intelligence is sexy, packs top-quality sperm for transmission of genetic traits, better endowed for a Darwinian mode of survival and getting to the top. Between you and me, I’d say there’s not much company up, out or down here…

Uh, “meditation” stepped into English lexicon sometime in the 1390s. The word had its roots in the Latin modus—measure, manner—and has spread into such terms as moderate, modern, physician (from medicus), and to heal (mederi-- may kabalbalan ang English, naging remedy). That implies what you do as a doctor: meditation.

“Meditative awareness is unity with the present moment”—and this grumpy gramps feels much such in the quality of attention that his panganay na apo provides him with in their silly moments together… Bibinyagan si Musa sa Disyembre 12, siyam ang nagkukumahog na maging ninong o ninang… hindi naman makapalag ang nanay at tatay.

Mahigpit na yakapin at hagkan sa noo’t puyo ang aking inaanak. Para sa ‘kin.

Con us?

ELI Soriano man na may dating daan
Tiklop sa Abalos—“may dalawang daan…”
Kaibang anito ang sa Malakanyang
Kaya may Dureza na nagdadasalsal!

ATM ang budhi nilang naroroon
At ecu tatacut kahit isang milyon
Ang ipaparada ng El Shaddai ngayon--
Hinokus-pokus ng “Hello Garci” noon…

Kahit magtungayaw ang mga cardinal
Back off lang sila sa bulyaw Jose Pidal
Incumbent Pestedent na hindi man halal
Kakapit-bayawak nang hindi matanggal.

Kaya ang diskarte nitong mga kampon
Ang impeach Gloria bid kagyat itinapon
Dapat daw baguhin ay ang Konstitusyon
Upang ating bayan medyo makabangon…

Dati nang pakulo muling pinausok
Paningin ng madla ay tinusok-tusok
Brocha-cha lang muna saka isusuksok
Sa p’westo ang punong balakyot na pa-cute.

Dapat lang ibuka tambok ng bukana
Upang makahimod sibasib-brocha-cha
Tiyak na titirik pati mga mata
Kapag titihaya lang sa pagnanasa…

Talipandak yata’y sobrang apurado
Mapako sa p’westo’y nais masiguro
Kangkang o Con-Con man, ipinaareglo
Sa mga galamay niya sa Kongreso…

Con-Con man o kangkang, lalo daw masarap
Nang Saligang Batas ganap na malaspag
Mabobong Pulungan agad nang maglunsad
Sila-sila na lang bumuo ng “Con us!”

Sa trono ng poder masarap lumuklok
Hanggang pati tumbong maagnas, mabulok
Ito ang aralin na dapat matalos
Sobra-sobrang power kasunod… pagsabog!

Luklukan ng poder: silya elektrika!
Boltaheng dadaloy ibig dagdagan pa
Elektrisidad man kapag sobra-sobra
Nakaupong reyna’y tiyak matutusta…