And images.
One is of an outstretched arm,
an open white palm,
then the fingers lightly curl
to hold in its tips
a delicate ball
made of tears.
the other - a head,
hair pinned up,
bent forward
exposing a graceful smooth neck,
the line of the bare shoulder,
a titilating innocent curve of bone and skin.
Both images of lines,
and angles,
of cells
and follicles.
bodily images
that burn within.
Out of post post.
Mabilisan ito…. (This is going to be fast)
This Thursday afternoon…
“Ma’m, baka po nananaginip siya…”
(Ma’am , maybe he is dreaming…)
“Nananaginip ba ang mga bulag?”
(Do the blind dream?)
“Siguro naman po… pero hindi ko rin po alam.”
(Probably… but I’m not sure.)
And from there I tried to explain what could be the reason behind the child’s unprecedented bursts of crying, bolting up fully awake from sleep, some time before dawn.
I throw the question back to my co-faculty members and try to encourage companionable jeering, masked under the theatric tone of existential musings. I was stumped. The mother of a child with multiple handicaps asked me that. The son was around 9 years of age, with total blindness and suspected to be devoid of any hearing, as well. He had been attending the therapy program carried out by the clinical students we were supervising.
One of my co-faculty said “Oo, naman. Pero di nila nakikita.”
(Yes, of course. But they don’t see it.)
Another added, “Nabasa ko yun. They do.”
(I read that. They do.)
To myself, I add audibly, “but how? And when they do, paano nila malalaman na gising na sila?”
(… how will they know that they are awake already.)
One of them stops, he looks at me and says “Dana, kakaiba ka talaga.”
(Dana, you are unique.)
“Sige, i-research mo yan. Alamin mo ang brainwaves and stuff.”
(Yes, resesarch on that. Find out about brainwaves and stuff. )
“Ay. Sorry po. Speech lang ako.”
(Oh, sorry. I am just a speechpathologist)
But, truly… how do they? And if you were, how could you?
