Aralin.
Nililista niya ang mga ito sa kanyang aklat bago siya matulog.
Isinusulat niya ang hugis at kulay ng bawat isa, ang mga sukat, pati ang kanilang mga kasaysayan.
Isinusulat din niya ang kanyang mga panayam. Mula sa mga nakakita, nakapulot, nagmay-ari, nakinabang, nabiktima, nasalanta, mga kaibigan, mga eksperto, atbp.
Pati ang kanyang mga panaginip kung kailan niya inilista ang alin.
Masinop siya sa ganoong mga bagay. Ihinihiwalay pa niya ang mga masasamang panaginip sa mga magagandang panaginip.
“Unsa man na?” tanong sa kanya ni Minerva.
Hindi niya narinig ang tanong.
“Unsa nang gihimo nimo?” tanong uli ni Minerva.
Inaalala niya ang mga tunog na kanyang narinig nang una niyang nakita ang bawa’t isa sa kanyang inililista. (Pati ang kanyang mga naramdaman tungkol dito.)
1.a; 1.b; 1.c; … 3.k; … 6.g; … 9.b; …
Noong isang gabi, binasa niya ang talaan ng ginawa ng kanyang ina noong isang taon. Pati ang talaang gawa ng kanyang lolo, 50 taon na ang nakaraan. Pati ang isang talaang gawa ng ina ng ina ng ama ng ina ng kanyang ama.
Gustong hiramin ng albularyo ang ilan sa mga aklat. Hindi siya pumayag.
“Kung dito niyo po babasahin, puwede. For room use only.” Ngumiti siya pero mukhang hindi nakuha ng albularyo ang kanyang dyok.
“Nakakita ako ng ngipin ng pating sa may sagingan,” sabi ng albularyo. “Parang lumalaki ito. Di na magkasya sa garapon na aking pinaglagyan.”
Isinulat ng albularyo sa aklat na sinulat niya sa kanyang bahay:
1 gramo ng dinikdik na ngipin ng pating + 1 wisik ng asul na asin + 2 awit ng tipaklong: ibabad ng 3 araw sa isang bote ng luha ng lasing…
Naalala niyang bigla: Sakit sa puso. Iyon ang tawag ng kanyang asawa sa pag-ibig.
“Kailangan niyo pong gumawa ng gamot?” tanong niya sa albularyo.
“Kailangan kong gumawa ng sakit,” sabi nito.
Pinahiram niya ang aklat na gusto nitong hiramin. Matagal din itong nakatitig sa kanyang inililista. Pinagmeryenda niya ito.
Nang makatulog ang albularyo sa malaking lumang upuan, bumalik siya sa kanyang paglilista. Hugis at kulay. Tunog. Damdamin. Panaginip. Others.
Ginuhitan niya ang boteng may lamang tinig ng mga tipaklong. (Gayuma?)
Nang makaalis ang manggagamot, kinuha niya ang isa pa niyang aklat.
349.f Dumalaw ang manggagamot.
Dumaan ang isang bagyo, ilang araw ang nakakaraan.
Pagkaraan ng ilang linggo, nang mabasa niya ang talang ito (349.f), di niya maalala kung dapat bang nilagay niya ito sa listahan ng mga tunay na nangyari o sa listahan ng mga panaginip.
“Unsa’y difference, dong?”
1 “Ano ba yan?” (sa Bisaya)
2 “Ano’ng ginagawa mo?”
3 “Ano’ng pinagkaiba?”
Ian Victoriano
English Translation:
He makes a list of these things in his book before going to sleep.
He writes down the shape and color of every one of them, their measurements, even their history.
He also writes down his interviews about them. From those who have seen them, picked them up, owned them, gained from them, those who were victimized, those who were devastated, friends, experts, etc.
Even his dreams about when he made a log of whichever.
He is meticulous in these matters. He even separates the bad dreams from the sweet dreams.
“What is that?” Minerva asks him.
He does not hear the query.
“What are you doing?”2 Minerva asks again.
He tries to recall the sounds that he heard the first time he saw each and every one of the things he made a record of. (As well as all that he felt about this.)
1.a; 1.b; 1.c; … 3.k; … 6.g; … 9.b; …
The other night, he read the log that his mother made last year. As well as the record made by his grandfather, 50 years ago. And the one made by the mother of the mother of the father of the mother of his father.
The herb doctor wanted to borrow some of the books. He said no.
“If you were to read them here, you may. For room use only.” He smiled, but it did not look like the herbalist got his joke.
“I saw a shark’s tooth near the banana grove,” said the herbalist. “It seems to be growing. It can no longer fit inside the jar that I put it in.”
He suddenly remembered: Heart disease. That is his spouse’s term for love.
“So, you need to make a cure?” he asked the herbalist.
“I need to make a disease,” the herb doctor replied.
He lent the book that the herbalist wanted to borrow. The latter also spent a long time staring at what he was listing down. He offered the herbalist some snacks.
When the herbalist had fallen asleep on the large and aged chair, he resumed his record-keeping. Shapes and colors. Sounds. Feelings. Dreams. Others.
When the herb doctor had left, he got another one of his books.
349.f The doctor visited.
A storm passed, several days ago.
After some weeks, when he read this log (349.f), he could not remember if he should have included this in the record of real occurrences or in the record of dreams.
“What’s the difference?”3
Ian Victoriano
###
“Unsa man na?” (In Bisaya)
“Unsa nang gihimo nimo?”
“Unsa’y difference, dong?” *
*Translator’s note:
“Dong” is Bisayan slang for a male person. The use of the word “dong” implies that the questioner is addressing a man.
