I just realized why I have always been cranky. I never had enough sleep these days. These past few days I easily flare up at the slightest provocation. I just felt I wanted to punch people in the face, or hurl them at the speeding train, or imagine hitting their head against a concrete wall: those stupid people I randomly meet at the MRT, at the bus, at the jeepney, on the way; those who unwittingly disturb my peaceful existence. It’s that bird our neighbor has; it’s the culprit. That little pesky and loquacious talking Myna. The little devil has effectively disrupted my biological clock. At 5:00 am it would launch its loud senseless prattle. The caged bird is kept adjacent our apartment; imagine being pestered early morning with the Myna’s shrilly version of boom tarat-tarat, alternated with a blasting sneeze, or loud tootles, or repeated call for ate Ems (the name of the maid) , or Theodore (their pet dog), or what appears to be its version of car alarm or tire screech or whatever sound the bird has mimicked from the street. Burying my ears with my pillows wouldn’t help; before long I realize I am already wide wake yet unwilling to get up. Fine, it could be a potent alarm clock, but for me who sleeps at 2pm, is a major nuisance.
Thus, it’s the bird’s fault, why I berated a young student whose IPod bled loudly from his ears. I told him to keep it low as we do not want to be tortured by his poor taste of music. It’s the bird’s fault why I obnoxiously and adamantly did not yield my seat to an old woman at the LRT. I took the idea from a friend (or did I read somewhere?): Why do I offer my seat to someone who do not even acknowledge or embrace her old age? Taking the cue from his colored hair, tattooed eye brows, heavy make up and botoxed face, I snubbed her. Also, it’s the bird’s fault why I threw a dirty finger and expletives at a driver when he almost sideswiped me, though it was my own fault. Why my mind was capable of conceiving murderous thoughts, I attributed to the bird.
I decided that the talking Myna is dangerous to human relations. Before I could murder someone or the very least cause pain to a fellow human being, I decided to take the matter in my own hands. Corollarily, did someone say that a mere flutter of a butterfly’s wings could radically alter the course of the universe, like, it could cause a tornado that could bring great havoc?
Option A was to buy a gun with a silencer. From my window, I have a perfect view of the bird, I could aim the gun there and presto, its sorry little head would splatter on its cage. After careful thought, a gun would cost a fortune plus the hassle of securing license and permit to carry, so I decided against it. Option B was to build a scare crow and stealthily install it beside its cage. Some said that birds could die of heart attack, so to maximize its freight effect, the scare crow would be in the image of Osama Bin Laden or Lolit Solis or Madam Auring. Again after careful thought, I would run the risk of being sued for malicious mischief. That would be a major bane considering my profession. So, I was left with option C, (like any burden in life that I am powerless against) that is, to adopt the Nietzschean philosophy: What does not kill you will make you stronger. Lest, I would suffer the same fate of the dinosaur, Tasmanian wolf, dodo or the quagga, I had no choice but to adapt myself.
Last time, I didn’t have to report for work, so I decided to listen and entertain myself with the Myna's drivel. I was told that the Myna was kept inside the house before. My cousins whose room was adjacent the caged bird, was charmed the then very sweet and courteous Myna whose talk mainly consisted of, “hello po”, “salamat po”, “kuya pau”, “ate ganda”, and “good morning” which reflects the character of the owners. I wonder what made them bring the bird outside. It was a bad idea as bird turned uncouth (walang modo).
Then I sneezed. The bird sneezed back, loud too. I tried to listen to every sound the bird made; I was taken aback because it was us the bird has mimicked all along. You see, we (I live together with my cousins and my sister) are a noisy lot. We come from the province and we are used to loud talk. We do not know what subtlety means and we were raised to speak our mind, loud. I realized that the “loud sneeze and the curse in our dialect” is me, the “shriek and eewwwee” is my colegiala cousin, the phrase that sounded like “ate, paabot ng panty ko” is my sister, and the “Boom tarat-arat” is our kasambahay who is always tuned to WOWOWEEE. I never knew that the bird has picked up our expressions.
The noise created by the Myna which I loathe with passion was actually US.
