Of those who have tasted of the “cup of having a spouse or a better half”, they swear of its charming society and the tender friendship it affords.
Without such friendship, they state, it’s not for a man or woman to be happy.
However, a man or woman drinks of sparkling water glinting like new morn, if he/she has no one to rightly call a spouse then sit down for a banquet, the food is insipid or tasteless.
Yes, the sweetest drop in the cup of life is a friend for life.
But where on earth can one find such friend if not in the person of an affectionate spouse, that creature who, left the side of a father and mother to look after a so-called spouse?
And without a spouse to show proudly to the world, one is merrily called in Ilokano as “nabba-akan,” or “ba-ak,” (bachelor or spinster).
Well, a “nabba-akan” either goes happily or solitary moping and Lordy, accompany such one mortal, and wave him/her good speed!
It’s this case of a bachelor friend, Roman Baladi, in his late forties, who invited Ah Kong last Sunday for a drink or two and thereafter poured out his heart’s sentiment.
But before Roman revealed his sentiment, he asked Ah, “What do you think of marriage?”
Ah, poor unenlightened fellow known for absence of thinking, thought long before answering, saying, “Why do you pester me with such question; I’m not a marriage counselor. I only know that marriage is the only war wherein you gotta sleep with the enemy and pester her with loud snores whether at night or day.”
Roman cast aside Ah’s answer and said, “I am thinking of getting married.”
Hearing Roman filled Ah with horror and he exclaimed, “Whaaaaat? Are you crazy? Are you out of your mind? Don’t change your status quo of single blessedness. At your age, you’re doing fine. You mustn’t surrender Bataan; you mustn’t surrender the flag, please, please!”
Roman heeded not, Ah and said, “To begin with, you know very well, Ah, that I am a ba-ak. A crusty, gouty old bachelor. I won’t seek to conceal what everyone knows. I’ve tried many times to win a woman to my cause, although Cupid had been lavish with his arrows, I utterly failed to make a woman be my better half and live with me.”
Oho! Hearing Roman, Ah thought Roman was merely explaining the union of two fond hearts, in one united, forms a state of friendship of all others the most rewarded and agreeable. ‘Tis a merger of persons, souls, of interests and wishes.
In such a merger, for example, if a man can’t work, mebbeso the woman works and save for a rainy day for the better of the fortune of the two until the man can find work.
In such union, there may come a time when the man gets sick. Well, the woman is the most tender of all nurses, never leaving a man’s bedside and sustaining his fainting head.
Wow! How luxurious then it’s is to be sick with such a companion.
Ah sidestepped his thoughts and returned to the words of Roman who previously said, “I’ve tried many times to win a woman by to my cause. . .I utterly failed. . .”
Roman’s words made Ah remember a time in his rip-roaring days of single blessedness when many a time he, too, wanted to win a woman to his cause but also failed.
There was that time Ah’s old friend, Tasso Donglipan, a Cordilleran, visited and noticed a bicycle in Ah’s home and said, “Adda bisekletam. Nangalaam ngay dita?”
Ah: “Magmagna-ak nga agmaymaysa idiay kalsada naminsan, pagamwam adda English-talking lady nga nakasakay ti bisekleta, nagpintas ken nag lapis, sinmardeng ti abay ko ket kunana, hey sad looking guy, wanna ride on my bicycle?”
Ah continued: “Isu naglugan nak ket inderetso na diay bisekleta idiay kabanbantayan. Idiay, bimbaba isu idiay bisekleta, inikkat na amin nga kawes na asana kuna kenyak,” Okay sad guy, you can take anything from me! Anything, for free! I will make you happy! No questions asked.” She said it seductively and enticingly.
Tasso asked, “Anya inaramid mo ngay?”
Ah: “Siyempre, inalak diay bisekleta, natural. Apay kapuy! Ket pirme ketdi unget diay napintas a babae.”
Tasso: “Op kors, op kors, aprub. Diay babae nalapis ket sika tabatsoy, saan nga umanay diay kawes na nu diay kawes na ti pinilim.”
Ever since, Ah had troubles winning women to his cause because of ineffective decisions.
Ah stopped his remembrances when Roman cleared his throat to talk once more.
Roman said, “To tell the truth, Ah, I began to suspect I am one of the most unwedded leftover generally joked upon by friends like you, for no sooner is the word asawa is introduced in our conversation, you all say, sika ngay Roman, kaanu ka makiasawa, wenno kuna yu kaanu ngay nga mapadasan mi met a mamantikaan ti subil mi, Roman?”
Roman went on: “Being poked with the proverbial jests and good humor, it has now occurred to me that I will ask your help, Ah, in announcing to friends that I am finally quitting the state of being a baak and going to marry for I have finally won the right woman to my cause.”
Roman’s revelation caught Ah by surprise who said, “Maki-asawa kan? Kunak man nu awan dayta iti diksionaryum?”
Roman smiled slyly, satisfaction clearly embedded in his face. Silent for a while, Roman pursed his lips and happily said,” I have a word of good advice to those who want to continue being ba-ak.”
“I happily give and bequeath to the rest of bachelors all my bachelor goods and effects like doubt, fears, bashfulness, obstinacy, fickleness and uncertainty, all, which previously led me to become a ba-ak, and for these bachelors to properly manage and cultivate for their improvement,” Roman explained.
Then Roman added, “In giving and bequeathing my bachelor goods and effects, I only desire to put a fancy or two into the heads of old bachelors, that they may follow me into the blessed land of matrimony.”
Ah just couldn’t believe Roman transitioning to married life. Impossible, he thought. But then Ah was pleased with Roman’s decision in life about connubial happiness.
Ah scratched his ears and pondered how connubial happiness is too fine a texture to be roughly handled, a delicate bud which indifference and suspicion can demolish.
Having witnessed many marriages come and go, Ah got to wondering it must be watered with showers of tender concern, bolstered with attention and protected by the barrier of unshaken confidence.
Connubial happiness of unshaken confidence? Well, Ah also remembered a friend who has this unshaken confidence in himself he refuses to check and double-check what he does.
One day, he went to a seminar in Baguio and was billeted in a hotel. There was a computer in his hotel room so he decided to make a message and e-mail his wife.
He did. However, failing to double check the e-mail address of his wife, he erroneously sent his e-mail to the wrong e-mail address of a woman who came from a funeral of her husband.
That tired widow came home, opened her computer and e-mail, expecting to read messages of condolence from friends and acquaintances who failed to attend the funeral of her husband.
When the widow read the first message, she fainted. Her son rushed over to her, revived her then read her mother’s message.
The message was: “To my loving wife. I know you are surprised to hear from me. I have just been allowed in. They have computers here and we are allowed to send messages to our loved ones. How are you and the kids? The place is very nice, but I am lonely here. I have made necessary arrangement for your arrival tomorrow. I will be expecting you, my wife.”
Roman disturbed Ah’s reverie and asked, “So what do you think of my plan to marry?”
Ah cleared his throat and said, “Excellent, my boy, excellent and congratulations.”
Ah poured from the bottle the two were sharing and gave Roman the cheers.
Then he stood up to leave, hoping for Roman that his wanting to get hitched up will not be sullied by the hand of carelessness, obscured by selfishness and contaminated by neglect that had happened to many marriages.
He gave a salute to Roman and said, “Padle, I profoundly wish your marriage will bloom with fragrance in every season of life, and soften the pillow of declining years.”
