Zen Husband

Zen and Buddhism (or Zen Buddhism) has been constantly misconstrued and mistaken for a religion ascribing to a certain religious philosophy. Truth be told, a friend who practices Zen gently explained to me that it is a way of life…simply a choice to live life in the most harmonious of ways possible.

My brother, though staunchly Roman Catholic, has somewhat chosen to walk the path to marital harmony in Zen fashion. Being married for 18 years, he has earned the right to be called a master who is well versed in the art of harmonizing marriage with special yet modified attention on the shopping activities of his significant other. I’ve a lot to learn (or unlearn) from him. It goes without saying he has mastered the Jedi-like skill of subliminally saying “Yes, dear!” while actually saying “Naaah, I’ll pass on that, dear”.

His comment on my previous post is too good to pass up as it is post-worthy by itself. Chris Butler, a.k.a. Jagad Guru would be proud. His take:

“Husbands with ten years or more on-the-job training usually enlist the enthusiasm of his wife’s niece, ex-classmate, sis-in-law or relatives to that effect, who has the same mindset or common agenda to burn the aisles at Divi mall or 168. The game plan should be to identify a drop off and pick up point, which would be utilized at a pre-determined time, or at their beck and calling… give or take a few minutes after the much awaited SMS is received… A neophyte hubby, of course is still alien to this technique or still bashful to say the risky lines “see you in a couple of hours honey… text na lang!”

Crouching Shopper, Yawning Husband

The shopping crowds in the Divisoria malls were maddening. As early a 8am the shopping arcade of 168 were already filled with Christmas shoppers making a dire attempt to avoid the so-called Christmas rush. People in the aisles were packed like sardines trying to negotiate from one pasilyo to another. 

The women, wives in particular, were all aglow and zoned in on the tasks at hand as they cross out names from lists on hand. Like contortionists, they’d move gracefully from one crowded aisle shelf to the other with relative ease whilst sticking to the game plan of hunting for bargain buys.  They shove each other ever so subtly and simultaneously haggle with Tsinoys and provincial lasses in broken Tagalog. Target, dig, crouch, squat, sort, choose, negotiate, pay, pack, then onto the next stall with deceiving precision…amazing. 

Behind every woman shopper is a bag carrier with bell boy/concierge demeanor. Said bag carrier is usually garbed in short pants and plain shirt as if he was dragged from his bed, roused from his Sunday slumber to step up to the noble task of shop items hauling.  It is interesting to note that these males (usually a husband or a boyfriend) wear the blank why-am-I-here-look on his face as he hooks shopping bags one for each of his10 fingers, two on each shoulder, and one for the neck.  More interesting is the stark observation that these men seen en masse would intermittently yawn every 5 minutes or so. This would go on for about 4 solid hours. Interesting.