Ms. Cita Kampit, 34, purty lady from from Poblacion La Trinidad, Benguet, went last week to barangay Balili, in La Trinidad to coordinate with a housewife group bent on engaging in home economics to augment household income, when she had a funny feeling that her imagination was failing her, her eyesight becoming nearsighted, or her eyes were simply making fun of her, to embarrass her in public.
She went to Balili, brimming with hope and full of imagination of the day to come when she and other ordinary housewives laboring daily at home while struggling to make both ends meet, can soon help their husbands in meeting daily cost of living with their future plan of generating income while at home.
Yes, indeed, for ordinary housewives wishing only ordinary blessings from the Maker, “hope springs eternal in the human breast.”
For non-daily laborers, like, say, those aspiring to be politicians, hope springs eternal, too, even when such aspirants keep on losing. Who was it who said, there’s hope in politics?
Yes, Sirs, Ma’ams, just like you, Cita is one ordinary housewife who detests gossiping to make others angry or sad. She, like barangay officials in Upper Rock Quarry detest idle gossip or “tsismis,” so said officials approved an edict banning it.
Cita would rather make good use of spare time that translates to happiness shared.
Sir, Ma’am: Just like you, with your sparkling wit of mirth ready to bubble anytime, may say that happiness is one common occupation of all, no matter how dissimilar maybe our preoccupations or how widely removed our paths in life: we all concur in making happiness a universal commitment or wish, anyhow.
Because you don’t go around making people sad by yakking; that’s a fact. You’re not like crazy Ah Kong, a merry old rogue. You go about to make people far and near happy, and you, too, happy.
It’s that wish which colors with white beams of hope, the penciling of imagination, and impels us to follow that course through life, which will best satisfy the cravings of our mental constitution.
Nagbi-it lang maawatan dayta a wish. Kuna ti Iloko, “Kayat ko gayam nga aramiden, apay ipagel mo ket isu pagayatak.” Or, as young folks say, “Likes ko gayam aramiden, apay ya ngamin!”
Such that at barangay Balili, Cita thought her imagination failed her, her eyesight became nearsighted and her eyes made fun of her to embarrass her in public.
But then again no, no! For her imagination was correct, her eye sight was right and her eyes didn’t made fun of her. For wherever she cast her eyes skyward at houses near streets in Balili, she particularly spotted women’s underwear – or called panty, if you may – in various colors, hanging in makeshift clotheslines and happily flapping and clapping with the wind.
As Cita looked at them, she imagined the underwear saying to her, “Hi, I am Miss Panty. What’s your name? Have you come to see my owner? She’s inside the house. She just hanged me here to dry and for the public to view anyhow.”
When Cita sat down with Ah Kong over a cup of coffee, narrated what she saw, she felt this funny imagination the flapping underwear kept asking for her name.
Imagination? Op kors, like Cita, all of us have imagination.
Reason may teach us to dive into the recesses of the unknown and philosophy leads us to examine hidden reason. Science opens the portals of truth and wisdom guide us to knowledge.
But it’s to the imagination, imagination, my dear readers, to soar above and glide through the wide range of possibility.
Ah remembers an imagination he had that never came to reality.
Long time ago when Ah and his wife were starting out in life, both wished for children. The Almighty granted them their wish – with five boys.
However, during that long time ago, Ah swore that if ever he and his Missus would be granted a baby girl, he imagined naming said baby girl “Pregnant.”
“Why?” asked Cita?”
So Ah answered, “Such that when my daughter grows up and a young man meets her, it will happen this way:”
Young man: “Hi, I am…,” (then stating his name).
Op kors, my daughter will answer the young man truthfully and says:
Ah’s daughter: “Hi, I am Pregnant.”
Case closed.
But Ah never got to having a baby girl. Since the Creator, also having a good sense of humor, blessed Ah and Missus with five strapping boys, and murmuring to Ah, “He-he, you’ll never have a chance of having a girl baptized as Pregnant, you dang fool.”
Now back to Cita. Cita swore before Ah when she narrated her story that in all honesty, she made it a point to prudently hang her underwear in places in her home where these will flap with the wind but nonetheless don’t invite attention.
Now, Cita also recalled she heard that officials in barangay Holy Ghost Proper passed a resolution banning laundered underwear hanging out to dry in the barangay where these can be seen by anyone.
Ah told Cita that the ghosts who dwell in said barangay (the ghosts there are holy, mind you) helped the officials with fertile imagination in formulating the resolution, in the cause of good taste for Baguio’s tourist-drawing city.
Ah wonders that should the day arrive when the Baguio City Council give its nod on the resolution of Holy Ghost proper, Ah imagines foolishly asking himself, “Sinu ngay manen tu ti baonen da nga agtiliw ti agsamsampay ti panty nga maserpatan ti publiko? Public Order and Safety Division (POSD) manen? Taho tu pay ti ag-ta-taho ket pag-iinnagawan da kasla diay napasamak idiay asideg ti Botanical Garden. Panty pay ket din!”
And talking further of flapping imagination, Ah informed Cita, “Have you ever heard of edible panty, este, underwear?”
Cita looked at Ah seriously and about to gouge out his eyes when Ah pleaded, But Cita, my pren, it’s true! Now calm down and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Now, Cita, Ma’am, there’s this cake artist in Baguio City with a fertile imagination who has invented a unique thing that can be a gift for Valentine’s Day.”
“And what’s dat?” growled Cita, clenching and unclenching her fist, ready to pounce on Ah, suspicious Ah was up to his old tricks again.
Ah sniffed and continued, “An imaginative Baguio lady, by the name of Regina Milan, has invented a panty which after the buyer has used it, she can eat it too. Believe me, Ma’am Cita.”
Cita’s eyes bulged, unbelieving at the revelation.
Ah then stood up, downed what remained of his coffee and ended their conversation, saying, “The panty made by Regina is made from pastry materials and comes in flavors of strawberry, lemon, mango and banana. Sounds yummy, maybe you’d like to buy one too, eh?”
He then bid adieu and left Cita wondering about underwear that can be eaten.
Then she smiled, the way women smile mysteriously. Because she thought,” If Regina can make women’s underwear eatable, undoubtedly she can also make men’s underwear palatable. And all these can flap and clap with the wind if hung on a clothesline!”
