ISANG PAKIKIPAG-USAP SA DALAWANG KAWANI NG PAMAHALAN HINGGIL SA KUNG ANO BA DAPAT ANG HITSURA NG ISANG MANUNULAT



  





      Pagkaraan nang labingwalong taon, muli akong napilitang lumabas ng bahay at nagtungo sa city hall upang umayos ng ilang papeles. Naninibago sa tama ng araw, nanghahapdi ang balat ko at gustong magbitak-bitak. Pagdating sa city hall, dalawang babaeng kawani ng nasabing tanggapan ng gobyerno ang nakausap ko at nakatransaksiyon, na ang edad ay kapwa mahigit limampu na siguro.
KAWANI 1: Ano ba ang trabaho mo?
AKO: Freelancer po.
KAWANI 1: Freelancer na ano?
AKO: Writer po.
KAWANI 2: (medyo incoherent) Dubber?
AKO: Ano po?
KAWANI 2: Ano ka? Freelance dubber?
AKO: A, hindi po. Writer po (pabulong) writer-writer-an.
KAWANI 1: (may hindi naniniwalang reaksiyon) Writer ka? Ows? Totoo?
AKO: Opo.
KAWANI 1: May pruweba ka?
AKO: (ngumiti lang) (sa mahabang silyang inuupuan ng dalawang kawani, may isa pang babaeng nakaupo, nasa mid-twenties siguro, hindi ko alam kung empleyada rin na nakadistansiya ng kaunti at may nakapasak na earphone sa mga tenga at mahinang kumakanta ng “On The Wings Of Love” na version ni Regine Velasquez) 
BABAE: (mahina, halos pabulong) Up and above the clouds, the only way to fly…
KAWANI 1: Hindi nga, writer ka nga?
AKO: Opo, minsan nagpapanggap na editor.
KAWANI 1:  Bilib ako sa mga writer pero hindi ako naniniwalang writer ka, wala sa hitsura mo.
AKO: Ano po ba hitsura ng writer?
KAWANI 1: (tiningnan ako) Basta!
KAWANI 2: Hindi ba naghahanap ng dubber ang pinapasukan mo? Marami na rin akong naging project.
AKO: Hindi po, e.
KAWANI 1: Ano ba mga isinusulat mo? (ngumiti) Bigyan mo nga ako para maniwala akong writer ka!
AKO: (malabong uuwi pa ako para ikuha lang siya ng gawa ko; pero kung magkakapilitan, uuwi ako at ikukuha ko siya ng Filipino translation ng libro ni Maya Banks) Nasa bahay po `yong mga gawa ko, saka malayo po `yong bahay ko, animnapu’t dalawang sakay mula rito.
KAWANI 1: (ngumiti uli, para ipakitang nagbibiro lang siya) Sayang naman.
Kasunod niyon ay natapos na ang transaksiyon namin at nagpaalam na ako)
KAWANI 2: Sabihan mo naman ako pag naghahanap ng dubber o voice talent ang pinapasukan mo.
BABAE : (mahina pa rin habang kumikiling-kiling ang ulo)  Yes, you belong to me and I’m yours excusively…
AKO:  Hindi ko po alam kung may balak silang magtayo ng radio station at gawan ng radio drama ang mga libro nila. Pero sige po. (Inisip kong hingan siya ng pruweba na voice talent nga siya at ipagaya ang boses ni Morgan Freeman habang nagbo-voice over sa pagsabog ng Mayon o iyong boses ni Mocha Uson habang nagtuturo kung paano maglagay ng condom gamit ang bibig)
BABAE: (medyo malakas na) On the wings of laaaabbb!

      Naglakad na ako palayo, lumabas at pumara at sumakay ng jeepney habang iniisip pa rin kung ano ang hitsura ng writer. May kailangang hitsura ba ang writer? Hindi ba’t sabi nila ay invisible dapat ang writer at nakikita lang kanyang mukha at pagkatao sa kanyang mga akda? Kung may hitsura ang writer, ano ang hitsura nito? Laging nakakunot-noo? Laging tulala? Laging mukhang walang pera? Napapailing na dumukot ako sa bulsa at nagbayad. “Mama, bayad ko, estudyante (yuck) (mahina) Inseparable it seems, we’re flowing like a stream, running free, travelling on the wings of laaaabb…

  

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