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THIS IS THE PLAY OF ONE POST (PLEASE DON’T MISTAKE IT AS THE STORY OF ONE HOUR BY KATE CHOPIN)
wahyuni: folks, today we will listen to a lecture by our hero of morality, the very person who heads the special committee for the infamous porn bill draft, bapak balkan kaplale.
so hush!!!!!! take your seat and sit down quietly.
lingga yoni
bapak balkan kaplale: pornography is a “man-made sexual materials either in the forms of drawings, sketches, illustrations, photographs, texts, voices, sound, moving pictures, animations, cartoons, poetry, conversations, gestures, or other forms of communicative messages through various kinds of media; and or performances in front of the public, which may incite sexual desire and or violate moral ethics in the community”.
delvi: so bapak balkan, something is deemed as pornography if it incites sexual desire?
bapak balkan kaplale: yes my dear. definitely by passing this law, we will guard the morality of the people and we will save indonesia from further decadence. LONG LIVE MORALITY. LONG LIVE INDONESIA
delvi: pak, look at this image of lingga and yoni. it is engraved on the entrance of candi sukuh, one of our main tourism attraction. this image symbolizes fornication you know, sexual intercourse. there is a penis penetrating a vagina apparently.
oh gosh seeing this image, uuuuu i feel hot…i feel like calling my boyfriend rite now. wait, when did the last time i have it? last month? errr two weeks ago?..mm.. that must be with another boyfriend. hi hi hi hi…(cheeky smile)…
delvi: so sir, i think we have to demolish this candi right away. this candi is full of porn. this candi is immoral. this candi arouses me sexually. errr… i mean this candi incites my sexual desire. we have to blow it into pieces. where is the C4? what? it has been copy-righted in malaysia for the purpose of murdering porn models? ah, TNT will do then. [delvi walks out of the stage to find her explosive]
bapak balkan kaplale: delvi dear wait!!!! don’t be fool. there is nothing wrong with the candi. it is just another cultural and historical heritage from our ancestors. please don’t blow it up. it does not incite me sexually though. don’t do it delvi. please……
BIG. BANG. BANG. DOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
wahyuni: but folks, bapak balkan kappale’s appeal to delvi is to no avail. she has run rampage with her explosive and wrecked havoc the candi.
poor candi. it’s innocent. its only sin is it is housing human most primitive desire. it is not even a sin. it is just nature. human nature. humane. humanity.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
reading the Jakarta Post’s today’s edition prompts me to write this post. it said, the law makers will force to pass this bill on October 30, 2008 (tomorrow) despite mounting uproars from many segments of Indonesian society. even one faction, the pdi-p faction, opts to walk out since their demand to revise the current definition of pornography in the bill’s draft (the one that i show in the play) fell on deaf ears.
i really don’t know how to react should these holier than thou law makers enact the bill tomorrow. i am not into pornography you know. but what worries me so much is the definition of porn used in the bill. it really stands on a shaky ground. therefore, it is legally dubious. null and void.
let me elaborate further how shaky the foundation of this bill is. look at how delvi in the play reacts upon seeing image of lingga (phallus) and yoni (vagina) engraving. it seems that it incites her sexual desire proven by her flash thought about her boyfriends and when the last time she has sex. therefore, according to the soon-to-be-passed law, this lingga and yoni can be deemed as a pornographic artifact. hence, it is a crime to promote this site for indonesia’s tourism. meaning, the minister of tourism and his boss the president should be put behind bars or fined (if this bill is enacted). but, look at how mister balkan in the play reacts toward the artifact. he said, “it does not incite me sexually tough”. see. two individuals responds differently towards the same artifact.
so how come these holier than thou law makers in senayan plan to force to pass the bill tomorrow? isn’t it stupid? isn’t it a downright hypocrisy? isn’t it…………anal? sigh.
Pertama
Kami poetera dan poeteri indonesia, mengakoe bertoempah darah jang satoe, tanah Indonesia.
Kedoea
Kami poetera dan poeteri indonesia, mengakoe berbangsa jang satoe, bangsa Indonesia.
Ketiga
Kami poetera dan poeteri indonesia, mendjoendjoeng bahasa persatoean, bahasa Indonesia.
In English:
Firstly
We the sons and daughters of Indonesia, acknowledge one motherland, Indonesia.
Secondly
We the sons and daughters of Indonesia, acknowledge one nation, the nation of Indonesia.
Thirdly
We the sons and daughters of Indonesia, respect the language of unity, Indonesian.
Eighty years ago on October 28, 1928, Indonesian youths pledged to strive for one homeland, one nation and one language, Indonesia. To me, it was a romantic nationalist pledge. It was romantic because youth groups from different islands who cherish different culture, speak different mothertongues even boast different color decided to unite. It was romantic because they defied differences and opted to higlight the similarity they shared, being colonized by the Dutch. They were in love with each other. Love that gives a birth to a proud nation, the Indonesian nation.
What a romantic union of myriad differences. What a beautiful nation.
That romance has lasted for eighty years. I hope this union will last forever.
Happy Hari Sumpah Pemuda.
oh my, oh may i am officially mad rite now and ready to explode at any slightest provocation.
highway can be very dangerous when brengsek people use it. god almighty, it’s been almost three years i never use this word. nobody in this bolehland will get offended when i address them with this word except they are indonesian. that’s way i choose not to use it. useless.
but today i am gonna use that word. to any individual who has hit agung and just run, you are brengsek!!! gua bilang lu brengsek!!! gua katai lu brengsek!!! elo brengsek. titik.
yesterday morning my friend agung got and accident. it was a hit and run apparently. he was riding his motorcycle to his work place near putrajaya when a car hit him and …and… just run like a chicken. dasar brengsek.
this is the complete story. he was hit around 7 in the morning on his way to his work place. he only gained his consciousness at 12 and found himself at serdanghospital. who brought him there nobody knows. probably someone took a pity to see him laying on the ground blood-soaked and alone. nobody amongst us knew about his accident until hospital serdang hospitally called his workplace relating his predicament.
to tell you the truth, i haven’t seen him yet. but i managed to talk to him via phone. he told me that he received numerous stitches along his both cheeks, neck and his inner mouth. the x ray reveals that there are some fractures in his finger bones. i think i would not recognize him when i see him tomorrow.
bah, what a bad experience for agung. and bah, hope that tabrak lari fellas get torn by a tiger or swallowed by a piton or crunched by a crocodile. bah…………
honestly, deep down, i do not hate the culprit. i know shits happen. but don’t be brengsek please. after you hit him, be responsible. at least call the ambulance. take him to a hospital. by doing so, you actually save your ass from further mistake, a murder.
if you call an ambulance and the medics save his life, your only crime is driving recklessly. the sentence is not that hard i guess. but you run and left him there waiting for his death. you might kill him. i suppose the judge will sentence you to rot in jail. geddit!!!
duh, please deh jangan brengsek. and please don’t drive brengsek-ly. it’s dangerous for you and other people. sigh.
wait… don’t start staring at me that way. i know what you are thinking.
this post is inspired by this hilarious news. it said, malaysian clerics has ruled out a national fatwa that tomboyism is against islam. one of them [the clerics] continued to say that god created them [boys] as boys, they must behave like boys…god created them [girls] as girls, they must act like girls.
but i hardly get what this cleric is trying to say. boy’s behavior? which one is it? girl’s attitude? what kind of animal is it? is it biological? or cultural? is there any specific verse in the Qur’an or any hadith ruling out clearly that a particular behaviour is specially attributed to boys or girls?
i am a muslim. i mean i was born as a muslim. biologically i am a female human. culturally i am a woman, no, a girl (that word makes me feel younger). ya ya ya actually they call me a woman because i have boobs much bigger that what boys have. well, it is a kind of difficult for me to find a fit bra. it’s 34 cup F. send me one for my birthday gift please. they name me a girl since i get my period which lasts seven or eight days per month. of course there must be episodes of emoing when my period says hello each month. they label me a woman for i have a vagina and two ovaries for procreation (if i choose to have one). that is absolutely specific to me. that is completely biological. that what differs me from the so-called boys or human with penis.
however, in terms of behaviour i don’t see any differences between mine and that of the boys.
i cry and i know they also cry. they kick but, as long as i can remember,during my school days i often make boys cry to their mama after receiving my high karate-kick. see, i am dangerous, a jagoan at that. they are avid climbers of tree yet i am a monkey. boys swear. i curse. they love football. but hey, i was the manager of my department’s football team. ato, a boy and my classmate, is an incredible cook. moi? the only dish i master to cook is instant noodle. they involve in a brawl. i was a gang leader, an experienced bully at school. i don’t have to relate here how many bruises, marks and scratches i have out of wars with our opponent gangs.
they fall in love. i don’t have to tell you that i fall in and out love countless times. they chase girls. i scare a boy because i declare i love him first. i lure. they flirt.
they wear they hair short. mine is shorter that you boys. they adore themselves by applying all kind of pomade to beautify their hair. i have more than five lipsticks, two blushers, three eye shadow sets, one mascara and of course three eyeliners which come in three different color, namely: black, blue and brown. daily they wear pants. i hate skirt. but they occasionally wear kain sarung when they perform their five times prayer. i get my telekung. their hobby is speed drive. i have given up driving since i hit a boy almost a decade ago.
in short, there is no special behavior attributed to only boys or girls. it is just man made culture that constitutes it. in other words, it is not heavenly promulgated. it is not fixed. it will always change along the ticking of the time. it is never a kodrat.
so why do the ulama have to rule out a fatwa (which is something fixed) on tomboyism which is so relative.
i think it is not right (i am trying not to use strong word here) to rule out that a muslim girl has sinned just because she prefers walking in a particular way that makes her look macho. and it is not right to doom a muslim boy into hell just because he loves to apply a cherry chap stick on his lips.
and it is wrong to accuse all girls who hates skirts as lesbian or tend to be lesbian. what’s wrong of being a lesbian then?
wait…. i am not saying that i am a lesbian. i have the qualification to be labelled as a tomboy girl i assure you. yet, if i want to have sex, i will do it with men, those with penis. on top of that, it has to be consensual. i will defend to your death my right to my vagina. i’ve warned ya.
what i am trying to say is this fatwa is a sexist fatwa. it is not fair. to read it between the lines, this fatwa has gone beyond banning tomboyism. it is actually a religiously legitimate form of woman marginalization and oppression.
what if malaysian muslim girl is culturally demanded to be submissive (as opposed to aggressive attitude ascribed culturally to boys) then she will sin if she speaks her mind against the grain. she will be branded as tomboy because she dares to say no to the status quo. again, with this fatwa, she will sin. she is hell bound. sigh, what a wretched fate befallen muslim woman.
i don’t mean to meddle with some other people’s business by writing on this issue. i am not even a malaysian. but i think this fatwa on tomboyism really stands on a shaky ground. why do i concern? because the same fatwa might see the light in my own country. who knows?
FOLKS,
don’t go near me rite now. I am mad. Totally mad. Desperately mad. I feel like devouring every mortal breathing before my eyes. I have forewarned ya………
I am mad over this Porn Bill. Why do I have to be represented my moronic law makers in Senayan? Why did my people vote for this holier-than-thou nincompoops in the last election?
And now oh my oh my….. I am surrounded by moronic young intellectuals. PARADOX.
PPI Malaysia (Indonesian Students Association in Malaysia) has just thrown its support on this chauvinist and sexist bill.
PPI Malaysia, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?
Oh sanctimonious PPI functinaries, Indonesia does not need this law.
What we need now is to make sure our people get enough food to eat. What we need is to make sure our children get proper education. What we need is to get out of this financial crisis. I know porn bill is helpless to tackle the crisis we are facing now.
STOP MEDDLING WITH THE PEOPLE CARNAL DESIRE, WILL YOU?
I just cant’ believe it that young intellectuals like them has been blinded by the false urge to save the nation’s morality (moral? what moral?) and let themselves fooled by the holier than thou politicians in Senayan.
Wait, I will continue to rant…
Oh God fearing PPI functinaries, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR WIT?
Indonesia is a plural society you know. By supporting this law you will only deprive some segment of society their right to practice their culture you know……..
THIS IS NEO-COLONIALISM YOU KNOW…………..
Oh I am so mad. crazy. I’ve lost my cool. I feel like ranting for the whole day. I feel like C4-ring them. God please forgive me.
Udah pukul 6:51, aku belum bisa pulang karna kejebak hujan. Padahal aku udah lapar berat.
Parahnya lagi penyakit lamaku kambuh. Kangen. Padahal minggu kemaren baru ketemu. Gawat. Ngakunya aja jagoan. Kalau udah dilanda kangen begini, ringkih juga. Jadi cengeng. Luluh dan Luruh. Kayak hujan sekarang
Mau bilang dia. Ah Gengsi. Gengsi !!!!
Lagian, dia apa kangen juga sama aku?
Udah pukul 7:02. Hujan belum reda juga. Masak sih aku mesti tidur di kampus.
Mmmm hujan. Aku ingat rumah. Ingat kampung. Jadi ingat waktu masih kecil. Waktu masih ingusan. Belum kenal cinta-cintaan. Ingat waktu main hujan. Pasti dimarahi Ibu. Dasar bandel, aku cuek aja. Kalau udah sakit baru deh orang se kampung repot. Meski mengaku jagoan, kalau sudah sakit huh semua orang jadi heboh.
Yang paling seru kalau lagi sakit itu, pasti si sakit ditawari makan yang enak-enak. Dibeliin sate, nasi rames, dendeng bakar, cancang kambing. Yang bener aja. Mana enak makan kalau lagi sakit. Semua terasa pahit. Getir.
Kalau hujan begini jadi ingat waktu kesawah. Aku sudah lama tidak kesawah. Hampir 8 tahun. Apa masih bisa jalan di atas pematang sawah yang sempit? Apa masih berani sama lintah? Apa masih tangkas kalau Abak suruh aku tangkap biawak. Di sekitar sawahku memang banyak biawak. Besar-besar. Kalau hujan begini mereka suka pada keluar dari lubang sarang mereka. Mau main hujan juga sepertinya. Disamping sawahku ada sungai kecil. Sungai itu hanya akan berair kalau hari hujan. Nah, sarang para biawak ini adalah di dinding tanah diseberang sungai kecil tersebut. Seru kalau melihat mereka serentak menyembulkan kepala. Jadi lucu. Makhluk yang terlihat ganas tapi sebenarnya lemah. Bentuknya saja yang menyeramkan, mereka tidak berbahaya sama sekali. Rapuh.
Di UKM juga banyak biawak. Aku ketawa sendiri lihat pelajar2 dari Iran menjerit ketakutan kalau mereka ketemu biawak. Biasalah, di negara mereka cicak saja tidak ada. Sudah barang tentu mereka kaget lihat kadal segede biawak. Tapi biawak disini kurang gede. Kurang gizi barangkali. Habis habitat mereka sudah berubah menjadi habitat kita-kita para pelajar.
Huh, hujan ini jadi bikin pikiranku kemana-mana. Enaknya sih makan bakso apa mie ayam. Tapi mau nge-bakso kemana kalau disini. Masak sih mesti tunggu pasar malam hari jum’at. Kalau di sini, jangan harap deh ketemu mi ayam yang lezat. Huh, Jadi ingat rumah lagi.
Well, ternyata hujan ada juga korelasinya dengan kangen.
Gila, udah pukul 7.47. Udah lewat magrib. Koridor ruangan dosen udah sepi nih. Gimana ceritanya gua mau pulang? Oh hujan berhentilah.
Oh dear, I caught a new disease. (Shall I call it a disease?)
I have spent the last five months reading people’s blogs. Yes, my research is about blogs if you care to know. I spend twelve hours a day to read blogs. God gracious, I’ve become a bloggaholic.
Sometimes this research drives me crazy.
Some blogger are generous enough to state about their age, gender and where they are based. But some bloggers are so mysterious. You know, this mysteriousness is killing me.
For bloggers who put their contact, I know how to get to them. But e-mailing bloggers asking about their age or telephoning them asking where they are hailing from can be a messy business. Most of them reply my e-mail and demand me to elaborate what my research is about. I am so thankful to them. I love you guys.
But there are bloggers who never bother to reply me. Okay, I won’t bother to include them into my research sample either.
But there are some mysterious bloggers who maintain bloody groovy blogs. I mean their blogs are so interesting that I won’t miss them. These ’mysterious bloggers’ are really killing me. They force me to read their whole entries hoping to find hints about their age or gender, or where they live. Sometimes, I also need to read blogs in their blogroll wishing to find clues about them from what their blogging friends write about these mysterious bloggers. As a result, I spend my days (n nights) staring at my computer screen readings blogs.
This research has taken its toll already. I am down with insomnia. I lost weight (hu hu hu My Mom will kill me). I got fairer complexion (shall I call it paler skin) for lack of sun exposure. I lost contact with my friends since I spend most of my time with my computer.
However, this research also gives me so much fun. To me it is even addictive. I just can’t stop reading. There are some funny bloggers to laugh at. There are some wise knowledgeable bloggers to learn from. There are some bloggers with magnificent creativity to admire.
I really like to write more, but my Prof just called me to submit my report. Got to go.
Folks, on Sunday I ventured to KL which was soaked by heavy rain. I need to go to Air Asia’s counter at KL Central to settle some problems. I was so dummy since I totally forgot to save my transaction after I book a ticket to fly home. I tried to call them and once I reached them what I heard is a repeated sugary sentence like this: Sila tunggu sekejap lagi anda akan segera dilayan. I waited for more than ten minutes wasting my precious phone credit but nothing happened. Finally, I jumped out of my bed, got dressed and grudgingly found my way to KL.
Actually I was too lazy to go out since on Monday I have to submit my writing report to my lovely Prof and I haven’t type a word of it. Moreover I just won a fiery fight from my runny nose (thanks to Uncle Wee’s coke for cold recipe). I am such a lazy supervisee and a chronic procrastinator at that. I can’t help thinking how my Prof can be so patient to deal with me.
Worse, the night before I spent hours sobbing over my state of being romantically ‘ignored’. I have waited for more than two weeks to see him. But this weekend he had to take his nephew out. What a loving uncle he is. I was OK with this excuse and decided to call him later. Oh my bad luck, when I tried to ring him several times around 10 pm. He did not respond at all. A little bit later I received his sms which I reproduce here verbatim: cant talk, baby asleep. I lost my cool and began to sob crazily. What a lame excuse he offers me. He could just go out side and receive my call over there. If you see me when I cry you’d better be prepared. I can be nasty. I will show you all kinds of punches and kicks I have learned from my silat master Grandpa. I hate to admit this but love is simply too mighty even for a jagoan like me. It reduces me, a jagoan I remind u, into a pathetic state of sentimentality. Huh, what a loss. Crying even does no good to your beauty. In the morning, I had two swollen eyes and coarse voice.
Funnily, amidst my sometimes uncontrolled sobs I managed to finish Farish Noor’s From Majapahit to Putrajaya Searching for another Malaysia. The reading process was such a tragy-comedy scene.
Despite my teary eyes that the letters printed on the paper seem to ascend from their place, I finished the first chapter entitled Pre and Early Islamic Period. I learned that our predecessors were better than us in terms of religious tolerance. In his analysis of Hikayat Indera Jaya, Dr. Farish shows us Nusantara in its pre-colonial period was such a heaven for a multicultural society as epitomized by the saga of a Muslim Raja Shah Mardan and his tutor cum bosom friend, a Hindu Berahman.
This new knowledge reminds me of the sad state in my own country. Our law makers in Senayan are now busy constituting the hotly debated Porn Bill despite loud outcry from some segment of the society who can see that this chauvinist bill is potential to disintegrate the country. Under the disguise of morality, those moronic yet holier-than-thou laws makers seem to overlook that such law is a downright betrayal to my country’s very essence, bhineka tunggal ika. Yes we have one homeland. We are one people, one nation. Yes we proudly tell the world that Bahasa Indonesia is our unifying language. However this nation comprises of hundreds of ethnicity, speaks different vernaculars and cherishes different culture. This law pays no respect to those differences. For example, Chapter II article 4 point h of the bill criminalizes ketelanjangan or nudity and appearances that impress nudity. How to define nudity then in Indonesian context? For us (mostly) Muslim Sumaterans, the men of Papua whose traditional outfit is only koteka ( a tube from a particular plant donned to cover penis) are nude or even uncivilized. But, who are we to deem them as uncivilized? That is their culture. That is the value they live by. Are we going to criminalize them because they live by their culture? It is for us they are telanjang but for them they are as decently dressed as we are. This law is never about morality. It is just another face of the state’s totalitarianism. Who are they to meddle with our morality? It’s purely private you know. Should they enact this bill, my country is in danger of becoming a crude mimicry of a Taliban state.
At this point, my sobs had receded but anger over this accursed porn bill conquered me. I looked at my hp’s screen to look at the time and it was 12 am. Looking at the screen, I realized he had not text-ed me back or tried to call me. Gosh, I wept bitterly for eternity wasting my energy punching my innocent pillow. I miss him I tell you.
Romantically wretched, I took my book and continued my reading in the hope in another ten minutes he will call me.Reading the chapter of Islam at the Crossroads, I learn the danger of politicizing religion like what happens in Malaysia and my country. In Indonesia, we have several ‘Islamic’ political parties. Despite being born as a Muslim, I am not interested in voting for any ‘Islamic’ party or any political party which sells religion as their brand. I simply don’t believe it when they campaign that they are championing the interest of Muslims as the majority of Indonesia. They don’t care about us or Islam. To me, they care more about using Islam as their vehicle to gain power. These people are busy talking about morality and the after life. Yet they forget that in this life many Indonesians are still trapped in the grip of poverty. Lots of them can’t go to school. Thousands of them can’t afford good health care. Gender inequality is still rampant to death. What do the MPs from these “Islamic’ parties do? They push to pass funny and sexist bill like syariah law. Like in the capital city of my province, all the female civil servants and female school students are obliged to wear jilbab, scarf. I am not against wearing Jilbab you know.I wear one. But to force us, woman, to wear it via such law is breaching our right to choose. What rights those (mostly male) MPs have to meddle with our [woman] religiosity.
See, I am a feminist since I was born. But still I love him. 3 am already. No sign heard from him. I still faithfully waited for his call. If I could not see him in flesh at least I could hear his voice. That’s enough to make my day. It was so quiet. The only voice heard is the melody of Sarah Connor’s From Sarah with Love. Damn it. I began to whimper again. But I resumed my reading. I still hoped he will call me. He used to do that. Calling me in the wee hour of the morning. Usually when he is doused. I laughed when I remember that moment.
Yeah, the chapter I was reading is entitled Malaysia: Politics as usual. Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I laughed reading this line. Since March I have watched funny political circus in this country. I don’t need to tell u, do I? We all know how funny Malaysia’s political scene is since the last GE. Lots of telenovelas.
My country is waiting its turn to be the next biggest political circus. We will have our Pemilihan Umum next year. It will be a Great Musim Kawin, a great mating season. Of course, we have countless political parties participating in the election. I even don’t know which one to choose. Surely, there will be no single party which is able to secure a big win. To win major votes, these parties have to form a coalition. It means they have to court another party to ‘marry’ them despite that party has a completely different ideology from them. Another funny stuff on the scene is newly emerging yet well-funded parties will tend to lure members of the already established party to join them with the promise to make them their number one candidate to be fielded. Most importantly, our next GE will be more ‘entertaining’ since lots of artists or celebrities are turning to be politician. So, don’t miss it.
It was 4.30 am. pouting and holding my tears, I continued flipping thru the pages of the book reading the ASEAN chapter. I learned that Malaysia and Indonesia shared some history. Some Indonesian rendered a good service in Malaysia’s Independence and vice versa. I learned names like Ibrahim Yacoob and Osman Abdullah, Malaysians who fought alongside Indonesia’s nationalist fighting the uprising Dutch. I also found out that a man from West Sumatra, my kampung, named Bachtiar Djamily became a strong supporter of PAS and a celebrated Malaysian novelist. So, our founding fathers were friends. Why can’t we, I contemplated.
Almost 6 in the morning. I finished reading the whole book. I took a long deep breath hoping to cease the remaining sobs. It was apparent he would not call me. I cared no more. But I still miss him.
It was my longest record or crying over a man. Yet that night another man, the author of the book, enlightened me. Sigh. I can never hate man after all. On top of that, I will not hate him for ignoring me. He must have reasons like he simply does’t want to be bothered that night or he ceases to feel for me or he already has someone new. Only God knows.
See, I am still a jagoan. Broken yet enlightened.
do i ever cross your mind?
so beautiful is the full moon
its beauty takes me to that afternoon
when the big brothers knocked on the door
bringing with them furor and horror.
darling, do i ever cross your mind?
so beautiful is the full moon
its beauty takes me to that afternoon
when you held my hand for the last time
while the big brothers took their time
to rip me off from my prime.
darling, do I ever cross your mind?
so beautiful is the full moon
its beauty takes me to that afternoon
but the big brothers’ palace offers no beauty
its only grace is cruelty.
darling, do i ever cross your mind?
this concrete floor feels so cold
even the full moon can’t warm me
this fragile frame has grown old
i need you here to hold me.
darling, do i ever cross your mind?
i’ve been jailed here for eternity
i am here for asking for liberty
they say the biggest brother’s retired to divinity
will the next biggest brother remember my calamity
provided I help him to reach his destiny.
darling, do i ever cross you mind?
i ask because i feel forgotten.
October 8, 2008.
I miss Ibu
Almost midnight. The cold has gunned me down. I’ve got a terrible runny nose which causes me to sneeze over and over again. I even look horrible. I have emptied half of the content of a big tissue box. I have no idea how many hectare of wood I have cut down with this excessive usage of tissue. It’s even difficult to get some sleep. I always boast to my friends that I am a jagoan, a tough girl.You know what a jagoan means, don’t you. Nothing on earth can scare her out. Crying is only for babies. But it is easy to know who I really am when I am sick. I will call my Mom telling her about my predicament with this illness with torrent of tears coming out from my eyes completed with heart-breaking sobs. Those who are quite close to me know this behaviour too well. My sisters will call me a jagoan manja, a pampered tough girl. This cold really mares my reputation as a jagoan.
You may have grown up yet you are still a daughter of someone. You must know too well who a daughter will miss if she gets sick like this. I miss my Ibu, my Mom. I flew earlier than planned to KL just to avoid her nagging about when I am going to present her a son-in-law but now I miss her so much.
When I was still studying in Padang when I ringed her telling her that I am sick she would immediatelly task one of my younger sisters to go to Padang and take me home. At home she or Abak, my father, will prepare the time-honored homemade medication which comprises of the mixture of various herbs, sugar cane juice, lump sugar, and other stuffs. Of course this poition does not always work since diseases are getting complicated these days. But the tradition in my house is we have to take this medication first before my parents take me to see a doctor.
Being in a negeri seberang like this despite with the not so foreign illness is killing me. If this cold continues for another week I will consider fly back to my kampung. To heck with the nagging and the bisik-bisik tetangga about delvi who isn’t married yet at 26. No big deal. I am a jagoan, aren’t I. On top of that, I miss Ibu and her rendang that I missed to pack since I left for KL in such a hurry. Sigh.
