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The English equivalent of purya gaba is “perish the thought.”

Writer's picture: jewel moranojewel morano

My earliest memory of hearing the word for the *first time* was when a tita rang our wind chimes in the morning then mumbled how she wished the adulterous husband of a pregnant neighbor would trip on the sidewalk, get run over by a truck, and chop his penis off. Yes, it was 7 am, and yes, I was a literal child. Mind you, this was in the south of Iloilo, with intonation a rough contrast from the lull of Hiligaynon lambing. Imagine curses in crisp R’s rolling from the tongue of a barely-5-foot doll-faced Filipino auntie. Oh yes, be very scared. But then she dusts it off with, “Sus! Purya gaba,” as if a spell to retreat Death’s scythe from the oblivious husband who was off to another infidelity.


Purya gaba, an expression which I understood could mean two things: 1) to take back an ill intention toward another, or 2) to shoo away bad karma. Peep how its Western equivalent captured only the former, contrary to native speakers who most times pertain to both, but especially so for the latter. In their most Gen Z fashion, the younger generation even adapted it to mere four letters: char! (or chos, even keme may be a strong contender). Although, I cannot discuss in detail its linguistic nuances, because like you, I have no clue. Rather, I am here to present the adage which I figured may reflect its subconscious trigger, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” A collective fear of being heard and haunted

by the Heavens.


How we fear the string of our own tongues rolling back at us. How we fear being seen by the same eyes we poked. A fear that leads us to fold words into an origami within pocket’s reach—ones we can unfold once gaba nearly strikes us. A safety net, a bulwark against the universe’s boomerang.


Though, clearly, there are times its intended receiver deserved these wishes. If tita let the scythe get as close to grazing the husband’s shoulder, there would have been one less feral scum running around impregnating the town. So why did she retreat?


Why do we latch onto these utterances—purya gaba, char, eme lang—as if their promised convenience cleanses the guilt of speaking ill of another? When I glance at the speaker, I sense a wave of conscience lash them as they blink, as if in thought, “Oh! I have forgotten that today I decided I am a good person.”


But does anyone actually believe in purya gaba similar to how amulets, evil eyes, and pangils behave as protective charms? Can there be depth to this expression, perhaps a testament of faith?


Still, if there is one thing I am certain of, it is that after all this,


Syempre, char lang ‘ni.

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