mnemonics
Written on 11:50 AM by isko b. doo
A funny thing happened today. I was on the way to the office when somebody tapped my shoulder from behind and called my name. I glanced back and turned out it was an old flame from way back. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember her name.
I have a faint memory of her face and her eyes. She looked plumpier. But i could not really trust my memory to say that she gained weight. Even her smell is not familiar (A new perfume, maybe)? Memory is a funny thing. You think you could never forget a person but each piece of her slowly fades away with time. You forget how her laughter sounded like, how she dressed. Her smile.
Her smell that clung heavily to your clothes lightens and evaporates, but the memory is still there, however faint. It's almost like the smell of durian, lingering in the air long after the solids are thrown away; or the smell of sweaty feet in the room.
I thought we had something then but now I couldn’t even remember her name.
Our conversation went like this:
Her: So, musta na?
Me: Okay lang, kaw?
Her: Okay lang din. Saan ka na ngayon?
Me: Wala, tambay tambay lang.
Her: Atik ka man oi. Ingon ni Michael, nagtrabaho ka daw sa ______?
Me: Ah, oo. Sometimes.
Awkward silence. She looked away. I looked at her.
Me: So, asa ka karun?
Her: (smiling) wala, magpatahi uniform diha sa ____ (points to a boutique nearby).
Me: ah ok. asa diay ka work?
Her: Sa ______. Isa sa mga sales agents didto.
Me: ah ok.
Her: Asawa ka naman daw?
Me: Tsismis lang na. hehehe. Kaw, minyo ka na?
Her: Wala pa pud. Wa pa nakita. Basi ginahulat ko nimo? (laughs)
Me: Mao. Hehehe
Another silence. Longer this time. I took the chance to try to remember her name and failed.
Me: So, adto nako. Balik pa ko work.
Her: Sige. Ako pud, magpatahi pa pud ko uniform. Naa ka number?
Me: Naa.
Her: Hatagi ko beh. Save nako.
Me: Sige. Unsa man imo number kay save nako tapos miscol taka later.
Her: Ok. (gives her number) Tawagi ko ha or text?
Me: Ok
Her: Promise ha? Bantay ka lang, atikon bya ka.
Me: Nanira pa jud. Lagi. Text taka.
I didn’t. It would be pointless.
When he lost his voice he lost all of it
To the surgeon's knife and refused the voice box
They wanted to insert. In fact he refused
Almost everything. Look, they said,
It's up to you. How many years
Do you want to live? And Uncle Jim
Held up one finger.
The middle one.
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