Tahooo!

I live in an apartment beside the street, so I am used to the deafeaning cacophony of discordant noises every morning : the coughing and honking of motor vehicles plying the route, and the annoying arias of vendors blaring, “putooo! bikooo! pichi-phichiii! binatooog!”

One morning I was disturbed by this vendor shouting for his tahooo. Actually he was not shouting. He was bawling.

Is it me (I have been perennially in distressing mood lately. Please don’t ask me why) or there is really something with the melancholic tone of his voice that evokes both pity and anguish? This morning I heard his voice again and he shouts tahooo in a gripping manner that you can feel his inner turmoil. Maybe he’s been through a lot of hardships that I can palpably feel an exquisitely tormented soul through his voice.

Maybe his wife is dying or one of his children. Maybe his little shanty he calls his home was mercilessly demolished. Maybe his family has not eaten for days. Maybe he is alone and lonely and needs to survive.

The last time I nearly cried as an adult was when I watched the movie Of Mice and Men. That morning upon hearing the voice of the magtataho I was on the verge of tears. Even our neighbor’s dog wailed and howled. Ok, that’s a bit OA.

It’s like this: Have you ever read verses from metaphysical poets? The kind that conjures images of visceral sadness and sorrow? The kind that chills your bone and makes you weep and wail but you don’t actually cry. Sort of like that.

I think it was Dostoyevsky who said that we are all connected and that we are responsible for each one. Maybe the feeling I felt was guilt…that somehow I was connected with this guy… that somehow I was responsible for his plight.