Uncertainty is needed, why?

Menemukan salah satu alasan kenapa melakukan jalan-jalan, berpetualang, itu menyenangkan: melepaskan diri dari jeratan persepsi pada diri sendiri. Membuka berbagai kemungkinan lain yg mungkin.

"Uncertainty removes our judgments of others; it preempts the unnecessary stereotyping and biases that we otherwise feel when we see somebody on TV, in the office, or on the street. Uncertainty also relieves us of our judgment of ourselves. We don’t know if we’re lovable or not; we don’t know how attractive we are; we don’t know how successful we could potentially become. The only way to achieve these things is to remain uncertain of them and be open to finding them out through experience."
-The art of not giving a f*ck.-

Dari Jordan Paterson, di bukunya, dia cerita panjang lebar soal order and chaos, keteraturan dan keberantakan. Keduanya dibutuhkan, ada, untuk mewujudkan keadaan, kondisi, suasana.

Chaos adalah ketidakpastian. Uncertainty adalah bagian darinya.

Baru juga nonton obrolan Dzawin dan Deddy Cahyadi Corbuzier. Membahas terlalu sering liburan bisa menimbulkan kebutuhan akan liburan lagi.

Dzawin dari kyainya, bilang liburan adalah fase jeda dari satu pekerjaan ke pekerjaan lainnya. Jeda dari satu kejelasan kegiatan ke kegiatan lain. Ketidakpastian sementara diantara kepastian.

Chaos adalah juga sumber kreatifitas. Dengan melepaskan kepastian akan yang sudah tertebak, sesuatu yg baru jadi tercipta.

Chaos adalah anak muda yg mencari bentuk, yang memiliki berbagai kebebasan, namun tidak tujuan/kecintaan/entitlement yang memberi tameng menghadapi ketidaknyamanan.

Anak muda yang mulai menemukan bentuknya, jadi semakin teratur, menjadi order. Menjadi memiliki kebahagiaan untuk orang/sesuatu yang lain di luar diri sendiri. Memiliki cinta.  -mungkin itu juga kenapa cinta menjadi sangat menarik: menjadi tonggak peralihan chaos anak muda menuju order orang tua. -

Bagiku hal yang menarik dari chaos adalah bahwa uncertainty adalah juga bagian dari chaos. Uncertainty mengambil beban pemahaman yang sudah terpatri. Membuat kita awas tapi juga mengantisiapasi. Menjadi hidup di saat ini.

Becaanda

Tawuran and Mob Lynch

Why the kid and young people got "tawuran" or school kid brawl?
In Indonesia, specially Jakarta you can find story about young school kid fight with another school. We called it "tawuran" here. They fight for some unimportant reason like struggle for keep the girlfriend of one school stay on that school, and not be a grilfriend to another kid in another school. Insult from 1 kid that got the whole kid from that school take action, and it can also be caused by the long live grudge like SMA 6 and SMA 70 Jakarta. You can Google it if you intersted more of it.

What make me so interested in it is that, they are fight for their pride as a member of "almamater" of one school.

Pride. It also a big thing caused people to fight till their dead. It is their identity. When the identity is insulted they revolt.

Identity make people diferentiate themself and other people. Identity give people entitlement to grow and glued together in one name. But also make them vulnerable to insult in that name.

This entitlement also give them a place to be, a fight to fought, a reason to act.

When they go out they know who they are. They know what to yearn for, who are their comrade.

The Jack Mania and patriotism
And that make me remember my post about angry generation. A generation raised by no war, no famine, no pain in front of television.
A generation that fight for  a reason to enjoy pain as they yearning for the glory of their identity. A generation of young that making happiness and sadness for television to decide for them.

In this generation came the jack mania and bobotoh, two footbal fansclub of two big city: Jakarta and Bandung. This two fansclub have their own history to define one another as an enemy. Not just in front of the football game, but in real life as they wore their football club costume.

The most recent big event is the death of one of the Jack Mania, after known to wore the wardrobe of Bandung football fansclub in the middle of bobotoh crowd, playing himself to be a spy, then this unlucky person getting beaten to death by bobotoh.

What a tragic event.

But the story doesn't end there, what we call as crowd mass murder isn't just on the football fans. The sad thing on history is "lynching", slave killed by a mob. Dark history of america, a newcomer which trying to wall themself from another newcomer.. heuheuheu

Masa Depan Accountant

Accounting

Lagi cari jurusan untuk diambil buat daftar beasiswa. Karena gue dari Akuntansi, maka gue mikir chance gue untuk keterima adalah di jurusan akuntansi.

Tapi jadi inget kemaren baca sebuah artikel tentang masa depan kebutuhan pekerjaan ke depan, dan yang dibutuhkan ke depan rata-rata dari yang jurusan teknologi informasi: pengolahan big data, artificial intelegent, dst. Sedang Akuntansi? Tidak ada didaftar 10 besar itu.

Saya jadi berfikir tentang kenapa profesi-profesi ini dibutuhkan dan masa depannya, apakah masih relevan dan dibutuhkan di masa depan.

Dokter, tentu masih akan dibutuhkan, meski banyak yang akan dibantu oleh teknologi dalam melakukan diagnosa dan seterusnya, tapi teknologi tidak mempunyai kemampuan dalam melakukan penyimpulan dan kemampuan pengambilan keputusan akan diagnosa seorang pasien, apalagi pasien dengan simtom/gejala-gejala kompleks, atau terkait spesialis. Dan oleh karena itu, dokter spesialis akan tetap dibutuhkan di masa depan.

Profesi lain, pengacara misal. Saya rasa profesi ini masih akan tetap sangat relevan hingga masa depan, selama konsep keadilan kita masih di tegakkan melalui majelis hakim dengan jaksa penuntut serta pengacara sebagai pembela tertuduh. Yang akan berubah mungkin hanya pekerjaan pendukungnya. yang membantu dia riset, yang membantu dia menyiapkan dokumen, akan sangat terbantu oleh teknologi, tapi soal pembelaannya di pengadilan saya rasa masih membutuhkan pengacara in person.

Lalu gimana dengan akuntan? Profesi Akuntan setahu saya muncul dengan adanya kebutuhan pengaturan keuangan dan pencatatan, serta pelaporannya. Di dunia digital masih akan sangat dibutuhkan orang yang mampu mengelola keuangan, tapi kalau masalah pencatatan dan pelaporan, sudah akan sangat dibantu oleh teknologi. Transaksi sudah tidak perlu lagi dicatat ulang dari kasir kepada bagian accounting, accounting akan sudah mendapat data yang dapat diolah komputer untuk menjadi laporan yang dibutuhkan. Dengan ini saya berkesimpulan bahwa profesi ini akan berubah menjadi lebih ramping dalam bagian, yang dibutuhkan terutama adalah orang yang mampu membaca laporan tersebut dan memberi rekomendasi strategis akan informasi dari laporan. Dengan artian profesi ini akan tetap dibutuhkan tapi bagi yang memang spesialis dan mempunyai kemampuan strategis.

Auditor, Profesi ini saya rasa juga masih akan dibutuhkan, tapi syaratnya akan bertambah dengan tidak hanya kemampuan bidang yang di audit, namun harus ditambah dengan kemampuan mengolah data dan teknologi informasi. Seperti kita tahu yang di audit nantinya tidak lagi kertas demi kertas bukti transaksi dan pencatatan ke laporan, tapi sudah langsung data transaksi yang di oleh teknologi menjadi laporan. Sehingga nantinya yang diperlukan auditor yang mampu mengolah data langsung dan membandingkannya dengan laporan yang telah jadi. Mampu melihat titik kritis dari pelapoan melalui teknologi informasi. Keamanannya: apakah data transaksi dirubah? apakah data benar sudah dijadikan laporan dengan sesuai? apakah Laporan disusun sesuai standar? dan baru apakah ada hal penting bagi pembaca yang tidak dilaporkan di laporan?

It means, menurut gue, seorang akuntan harus membekali dirinya dengan kemampuan teknologi informasi selain kemampuan strategis pengelolaan keuangan dan pelaporannya agar tetap bisa relevan dengan perkembangan jaman. So, i think i should search the course that over some point of view in the technology informasi that being used in real world, to answer the question like, how to manipulate a big data transaction efective and efficiently, what program and how to get the data needed search an answer for a question that strategicaly needed for the company.

Short story: Burning Fire

Burning fire - Membakar Api

Eka Kurniawan - March 1, 2009

Api

After making sure his wife disappeared from the hospital, of course with their newborn baby, Mirdad immediately called his wife. "Artika, where are you? What about our baby? "His voice was aimed more at the ballot box, which began with Artika's short message," My husband, if you want to see our child, first, return my father back. "

Lohan's business again, Mirdad thought.

In the last few weeks, before giving birth to their first baby, Artika's condition was not so good. Mirdad was very worried, especially thinking of his wife's womb. And if he asks, Artika always brings it back to the issue, "I think of my father. How can I be calm if my father is said to have been put in the arms and tortured and I don't know where he is. "

"I don't know either," said Mirdad.

"But your father knows."

It is true. He himself did not know what had happened between father and father-in-law. He only heard the news that was milling about, which was not clearly in his case. Of course he had asked that to his father, but the father would only say that this matter was more complicated than they thought. However, simply his father would say: "Your in-laws burn fire." That's their term for embezzling the organization's money.

"I don't believe it," Artika said at the time.

When her womb approached her delivery period, Mirdad persuaded her to go to the hospital and stay there. Artika did not move, vowing to only give birth if it was accompanied by Lohan, her father. Desperately, Mirdad returned to meet his father and begged for a moment to free Lohan to be able to accompany his wife to give birth to their child.

"No, son. You will have to understand later, organizations are even more important than any kind of family romance."

Until one day he did not find his wife at home. He called his wife, but the call was dead. In fact, at that time there was no message to talk to the ballot box. Mirdad tried to call their doctor, but the doctor did not know anything and instead asked, why did his wife not come, even though it was nearing the day of delivery. He then telephoned all maternity hospitals, asking if there was a patient named Artika Lohan. No maternity hospital has a patient named that. There is also no public hospital that answer yes. In fact, he had also spread out some of his men to look for places where traditional birth attendants were born. The result was nil.

Then, he got the news that his wife gave birth in a maternity hospital outside the city. Damn, he thought, why can't he think of that. He immediately drove to the hospital. It was true that his wife gave birth there, but Artika had gone back. That's when he called again and got a short message before the sign to speak to the ballot box, "My husband, if you want to see our child, return my father first to the house."

Mirdad sat on the porch of the hospital and asked himself, "Which one should I choose, this damn family or organization?"

The news about Lohan's arrest was first heard from Artika. At that time Artika had just visited his father's house, then suddenly came home and called out to him. A midnight napkin wakes up and asks, what's wrong?

"Father was arrested."

"By whom?" He thought, his father-in-law was arrested by the police. In their world, that's not a strange thing. His father had dealt with the police dozens of times and had been in custody several times even though the organization's lawyers always managed to make a plea of ​​not guilty to be released. And his father-in-law, Lohan, is a field person. He dealt with the police more often and so far there had never been a business he could not solve easily.

"By Pre."

That just surprised him. Mirdad wakes up from the bed. Pre is their term for field people, trained street thugs. No, not just any street thugs. Their job is to do all acts of violence cleanly to protect all interests of the organization. Street thugs are just poor parking attendants and street vendors. Pre killed and burned the building, without being noticed. Lohan himself was a pre, if he was arrested by pre-peers, it meant that there were serious problems involving the internal organization.

"Why?" Asked Mirdad.

"I don't know!" And Artika continued with a roar. Because he knows, pre-arrest means death without a trace. Pre does not only kill enemies and rival organizations, he can also act the same for insiders who they think are traitors. And betrayal is an unforgivable sin in their organization. Artika knew very well about this, so she deserved to cry over her father.

Followed by Artika, Mirdad immediately went to his father's house, known by his long full name: Rustam Satria Juwono. The father likes it when people say his name in full three words, and of course

hate if someone tries to abbreviate it. Some people who did not like him, quietly abbreviated the name became RSJ, as the abbreviation for the Mental Hospital. Indeed there is no more appropriate place to find out the condition of Lohan than going to meet Rustam Satria Juwono. Rustam Satria Juwono is the chairman of the organization.

He might not only know about Lohan's arrest. It could be that Lohan's arrest by the pre is precisely his command.

"Father, why was your father-in-law arrested pre?" Asked Mirdad.

Facing his son and daughter-in-law, Rustam Satria Juwono tried to speak softly and wisely, "Calm yourself. Father will try to find the best way to solve this problem. "

"Why not send the pre release my father?" Asked Artika impatiently. His eyes were swollen and he was still crying.

"Calm down, kid. Father will try as best I can. Even though the father is a chairman, the organization has its own rules. You know, as a chairman, you can't act arbitrarily. "

Even for Mirdad himself, his father's words sounded like bullshit.

The incident was exactly a month before Artika gave birth to her baby. With a big belly, Artika tried to find out her father's whereabouts. Similarly, Mirdad. The result is nil. They reported it to the police as a missing person, but they knew for sure that the police would not find it easily. After all, it is impossible to say to the police that Lohan was kidnapped by the pre-party.

First, there were no witnesses to the abduction. During the kidnapping, Lohan lived alone in her room. As usual, he always locked the door and window of the room from inside. After noon Lohan didn't leave the room, Artika and her mother tried to open the door. After opening, they found an empty room. But the doors and windows remained locked from the inside. There is no conclusion whatsoever except to be sure, that can only be done by a group of pre.

Second, mentioning pre will only endanger both of them.

Third, the police did not know what was pre.

Fourth, if there are police who know the pre, they will not want to handle the case.

Finally they find out in their own way. Even though they could be said to be nobody in the middle of a labyrinth of organizations, they could also be said to have little friends who slipped here and there and knew quite a lot of things. From such shrieks, they finally get fragments of the story behind Lohan's arrest.

These days, as many people know, organizations are on the verge of going bankrupt. That means, their companies have too much debt and make too little money. The elders of the organization, in their outside world, are better known as capital conglomerates, meeting to find a way out to save the organization-owned companies. That's when they returned to check the books. Big bookkeeping and finding big concedes. There is expenditure, but there is no income.

All eyes then looked at the only person who should be responsible for the loss of money: Lohan.

"I can explain where the money went," Lohan said, trying to calm down.

"Yes, gentlemen, I'm sure this best friend can explain where the money went," said Rustam Satria Juwono, the chairman, at the end of the meeting.

Rustam Satria Juwono finally called Lohan and asked to talk to both of them. He himself believed Lohan did not carry away the money and there must be a reasonable explanation. To Lohan, Rustam Satria Juwono said, "The elders are angry." That means, Lohan must explain as clearly as possible or they will get problems with the elders. "You know, I am indeed the chairman of this organization. But like you, my elders determined my fate. "

"I can explain," Lohan said.

"Do it."

"I have nothing to cover," said Lohan. "This is the thing we have done very often. I do it for all of us. I use the money to bribe the police. "

"That big?"

"That big. This one is a big cop. And we will get big things to save the company from big problems. "

"Is that?"

"We will get a gambling house."

The gambling house was never really made. Large police that promise to make things easier do not keep their promises, even though the money has changed hands. The elders this time were really angry. They really don't like spending a lot of money on things they can't get.

"Lohan, I was forced to let the pre catch you," Rustam Satria Juwono said during their final telephone conversation.

"Why? I do that because you want a gambling house, don't you? "

"But you spend a lot of money."

"The money is for bribes."

"Your bribe didn't work. We have absolutely no permission or protection to make the gambling house. "

"Then, we take the money from the police again."

"He never claimed to receive money from you."

"What?"

"Yes, He didn't say that He receive money from you. "

"Oath of death, I give it directly, full suitcase?"

"Are there witnesses?"

"Not. But everyone in the organization knew I was bribing the policeman. You also know that. "

"Do you have proof that the police received your money? He gave you ... em ... say, receipt? "

Lohan was silent, before saying again, "Since when did bribes have receipts?"

"So your answer, there is no evidence?"

"Are you going to sacrifice me to make the elders happy?"

Rustam Satrio Juwono hangs up.

That is, he will let the pre catch Lohan. Actually that night Lohan was getting ready. Lohan locked the door and window of his room. Lohan also prepares a gun under the pillow. But as everyone knows, pre has never been stopped.

There was no other way, Mirdad said to his wife: "My father knew the money was taken away by the police. But the elders don't care. Whoever eliminates money must face the pre. So, that's what my father had to do to make the elders happy. That is the only way that he can maintain his place in the organization or the 'chair' call must be immediately given to others. "

Artika didn't like the answer and decided to go with her baby. [2009]

Short story: Kyoko's Cat

Kiyoko's cat - Kucing Kyoko

Rama Dira J - February 22, 2009

image source: kucing

Early in the morning, I was startled by the appearance of a three striped cat on the doorstep of my flat. At first, he meow loudly while clawing at the door to make me stop brushing my teeth to ascertain whether a cat is at the door.

I see, the cat is dull. His whole body was wet, it must have been hit by rain. Outside it is raining. These days, Kyoto has not ceased to be washed down by the sky water spill that was so heavy.

Even though I really don't like cats, I can't bear to let them cool outside. Besides, he seemed to be begging for someone's help to release him from Kyoto's cold air snares at this time. I immediately carried him inside. Before closing the door, then I knew that the cat was injured after my hand was wet with foul-smelling pus, flowing from a deep wound, on the left side of the waist. It looks like it's a wound from a sharp object.

I hurried in a raincoat, leaving the cat for a while to get the appropriate medicine for the terrible wound from the pharmacy across the street. Nguyen, a Vietnamese pharmacy student who works at the pharmacy, advised me to apply chloramphenicol ointment to the cat's wound. I rushed to pay, then headed to the convenience store, about fifty meters from the pharmacy. There I get a can of liquid milk and tuna flavored Whiskas packed with 500 grams. After making sure no one was missed, I fought back through the rain storm to reach my flat.

The sad cat was still lying weak on the couch, in a towel that I gave before leaving it earlier. He was rather surprised to hear the door I closed was rather hard. I immediately took the cotton from the room and brought a basin of warm water from the kitchen.

After completing the treatment ritual for the cat, I immediately presented him with a bowl of Whiskas and a bowl of milk. He immediately devoured everything. After that, he immediately fell asleep in exhaustion. I noticed really, it looks like this cat is not a wild cat. The fur is maintained. His body is also plump. Ah, let him be here until healed. If for example in the past few days no one has looked for it, it will be distributed to animal homes.

The cat occupies an instant noodle cardboard that has been resurfaced in such a way as to give it a sense of comfort and proper warmth, so that it can calmly rest with the hope of having a good impact on healing the wound.

Today is Sunday, I am free from college and work. I headed in front of the TV, playing a plate of DVDs I had rented from a rental near the restaurant where I worked. The Catcher in the Rye the film's title. I watched it in deep attention. In line with the flow of the story in the film, I began to realize the fact that sometimes, many small things that appear before us at one time become the lighters of our memories of memories that happened in the past. The film took me to memory when I was forced to quit college because my parents could not afford to pay. The situation then prompted me to wander far away, work while studying in Japan by boarding a cargo ship from Surabaya. Arriving in Japan, I tried to survive by working to move around in small restaurants, until then I became one of the reliable cooks in a large restaurant thanks to the cooking knowledge I had gotten from these small restaurants. From my opinion as a cook at that big restaurant, I can pay for college.

Now, I can live independently and every month also routinely send money to parents in the village. My days go through struggling in cooking spices in a joint restaurant of Japanese and European cuisine, which is located around Imadegawacho as well as dealing with lectures at Kyoto University in the field of electricity. Here, I really enjoy the effect of hard work, focusing on the seriousness that I will not get in my own country.

The Catcher in the Rye is over, my memories of the past are over. I turned off the TV to the dining table, ate two hamaagu and hot green tea which still billowed the smoke. After that, I fell into a long sleep on the couch. Meanwhile, the rain outside did not stop, as if it would go down forever.

I've been interested in girls for a long time in the flat across the street. However, I could not find a way to meet and get to know him. But I never thought, the three striped cat — who had been part of my flat for three weeks — was instrumental in meeting me with the girl in the end. I found out later that his name was Kiyoko, the owner of the three striped cat.

Kiyoko came one night, asking me if there was a three fat striped cat that strayed into my flat. When I showed the cat, he was without a doubt the one who had been searching for Kiyoko for two weeks.

"There was a wound on his body when he was first stranded here. But it's been cured now ... "

"Wow, what a pity ... Takeshi ..."

"Takeshi?"

"Yes, I gave him the name Takeshi."

He later told me that in the neighborhood there was indeed a group of middle school children who liked to torture animals. He believed that the wound was caused by them. The day Takeshi was injured he was not in his flat, he was going to Nagoya.

After chatting for a while, he said goodbye and offered me to visit his flat, just drinking tea cha (green tea) together as an expression of his gratitude for saving Takeshi. I immediately imagined: drinking cha during the rain while watching Serendipity or Before Sunset, why refused?

The next night I visit. He treats me well. Although there was no rain and did not have time to watch a movie together, he presented warm tea in his speech and also warm conversations. I was also happy to see Takeshi who had healed his wound and most importantly, he was back at his house. However, one thing that surprised me, Takeshi was not left free. He was locked in a cage.

"Why is Takeshi in there?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot not to take it out from there. I was out for a while, I can't take it. So then just measure it in a cage. If I leave freely alone, he can get out of the ceiling. I'm afraid he will be the brat of those bad boys again. "He then approached Takeshi and opened the lid of his cage. Takeshi immediately burst into my arms. It seems like he's scared, after being locked in the cage.

I tried to calm Takeshi while stroking his neck. Takeshi was a little old in my arms even when he was fast asleep. I gave Takeshi to Kiyoko and Kiyoko took him to his sleeping box.

Kiyoko is not a beautiful girl who is totally different from the Japanese woman I usually see. Normal physical appearance actually. What made him different was that he was intelligent, an animal lover, and had deep attention to traditional arts, especially those related to Japanese stringed instruments, shamisen, and he was very good at playing the instrument. It was not strange then to learn the fact that he turned out to be a young lecturer who taught traditional music in the Faculty of Arts and Music, Aichi Perfectural University in Nagoya.

Every day he travels about forty minutes to Kyoto-Nagoya or vice versa by using a super-fast train, JR Shinkansen. That was then, every Sunday when he was off on teaching and I was off from college and work, we often spent time together, could be in my flat, could also be in his flat with three activities that we both loved, namely cooking, watching movies, and playing samishen. Without exception, Takeshi who liked me more and more, enlivened our meeting.

This evening, from the glass window of my flat, below I saw Kiyoko had arrived from the minimarket carrying materials for his cooking later. Today's turn is cooking and taking care of me. I became restless waiting for a call from him. He did say that if the meal was finished, then he called me.

Actually, I had been rushing in a shower and dressed well, preparing myself as best I could in a plan to express my honest desire for our relationship. Of course, I hope he wants to accept me as his lover. However, from the way he treated me for these three months I felt confident, he also liked me. Often he was honest and openly expressed his interest in me as an independent migrant man, disciplined in his efforts to complete his studies and work alone for life and for the cost of the study. He also liked my skills and was amazed by the secret of cooking spices that made his tongue not stop wanting to eat all the dishes I served even though his stomach was already full.

Often in our meetings, indeed he always helps me cook, but actually the dishes served at the table are only born from my hand. This time I challenged him to cook in an appointment in his flat.

Two hours later, my cellphone rang. From the other side he said that the food was ready and I was allowed to visit. When I arrived there, he immediately invited me to enjoy the dishes already served at the table. As a professional cook, what he displayed on the table, I thought was quite mischievous. I immediately enjoyed the sukiyaki dish. In fact, Sukiyaki is not a type of dish that is foreign to me. However, this sukiyaki feels more delicious than my homemade sukiyaki. When I asked what the secret of the spices was and how he could make vegetables and meat in sukiyaki was more refreshing, he didn't want to confess. According to him it was something he had to keep secret. "If I tell you, then my cooking won't be special anymore."

After enjoying a meal, we sat on the couch listening to the CD from Jason Mraz's latest album. When Jason Mraz was singing Lucky with Colbie Caillat, I began to express that I liked Kiyoko and hoped he would have a serious relationship with me. As I thought before, without rejection, he accepted me as his lover for a second after my statement of seriousness.

I'm happy, so is he. Lucky's chant was finished and suddenly I remembered Takeshi. I felt indebted to him because he was the one who had contributed greatly to bringing me together with Kiyoko. He was the three striped cat that had brought good luck before me.

"Where is Takeshi?"

Kiyoko didn't answer right away, instead he headed towards his bedroom and brought out a new shamisen.

"This ..." he said.

"You mean?"

"This is Takeshi!"

"That's a shamisen!"

"Yes ... shamisen made from Takeshi."

"You mean?"

"The skin on the shamisen's head is Takeshi's skin."

"???"

I noticed, indeed the skin on the shamisen's head had three striped colors like Takeshi's. I then imagined what we had eaten in the sukiyaki. Maybe it's Takeshi meat. I then guessed and without feeling guilty, he admitted that it was Takeshi meat and he honestly said that he was used to eating cat meat whose skin was used to make shamisen. Before taking their skin as an ingredient in making a new shamisen, Kiyoko must take care of it first because it is healthy cat skin that can help produce beautiful shamisen clinks. He also honestly said that the wound on Takeshi when I found it was his stab in an attempt to kill the cat. The attempt failed because Takeshi managed to escape and was stranded at my place. He felt bad about submitting that confession at the beginning of the meeting. But after we got this close, according to him there was no problem for him to say all the confessions.

"What's the meaning of a cat ..." he said lightly.

I ignored him, immediately rushed to the bathroom and vomited there. I said goodbye without regard to his reaction. When I arrived at the flat, I couldn't do anything else except thinking about canceling our relationship because after all, Takeshi was the biggest part of me that I loved. Without realizing it, my eyes were wet imagining the fate of Takeshi.

Tarakan, 24-25 January 2009

Short Story: Blarak

Blarak

Yanusa Nugroho - 8 Februari 2009

image soure: blarak

I woke up because the leaves fell. With a little stuttering, I removed the dried leaves from my face. I saw Mbah (grandpa, old people) Tuhu's face brightly looking at me.

Hehehe ... let's go home, it's late ... "he said, moving from his seat which was not far from me lying down. "From before, I actually wanted to wake up until now, but ... how come it looks really good, can't bear it, me. Uh, even the leaves are waking up to the side ... heheheheh ... "

I just smile. Fresh. I've never woken up from sleep feeling like this. Without much talk, we immediately followed the moor. Quiet. Insects start singing. The earth cools and soon, the fog will surely go down.

"We'll all look for blarak (palm young leaves) later to cook ..." he said a few moments later.

I've been here for two days. I don't know where this name is, I don't really understand. Previously, I was a creature born and raised in a "concrete forest" called Jakarta. Mbah Tuhu is still a relative of mine, which - this is strange - I just learned a few days ago. Imagine, during my life, approximately 35 years, I never knew that having relatives came from this region, suddenly — very absurd — the name appeared and made me 'dragged' to this small hamlet.

 

Last month, we — I mean, my wife and I, got bad news from the doctor: my wife had cancer in her womb. You must have known our reaction, especially my wife. And since we heard the news, his body withered.

Between the business trips I had to do, I invited Grace to various international hospitals. However, nothing could make me believe that Grace's condition improved. Colleagues, business partners, acquaintances, anyone who has provided assistance, whether it's a sympathy shake or hospital referral. All in vain. Last month, Grace resigned. I can't do anything, even I can't afford to be sad anymore.

That Sunday morning, when I accompanied Grace watching Kurosawa's Dreams, my phone rang. For a moment, I still had time to see on the screen, dancing a fairy peach tree in front of a small child. I then rushed to the telephone table while grumbling.

"Haloo? Mas (brother) Yos? "From there there was a strange voice in my ear. But he knows my name.

"Right ... sorry with whom, sir?"

After I heard his laughter, I heard he mentioned his name, then what was the connection with me. I just realized that he was one of my uncles who lived in Cirebon. I don't know, when I last got in touch with him, I didn't know.

"That's right, uncle ... yes, that's how it is, we've given up ..." I said, when he asked Grace's condition. I secretly thank you, whether to whom I have to say, that someone who has never even been in my memory, gives his sympathy to me. Suddenly there was a feeling of regret that was suffocating my chest. I don't know what else he was talking about, actually I didn't really care, because at that time I was like being pulled into a vortex of regret that was somewhere in the end.

"Try there ... maybe just ..."

"Sorry, where to go?"

"Mbah Tuhu ... he is still our relative ..."

Then I arrived here. Two days ago, on a motorcycle taxi, then on foot, we arrived at this house. Quiet, at that time, because the owner of the house was not in place. Quiet. Only the mountain wind carries the scent of wood smoke burning, faintly out of nowhere. Grace sat on a bamboo couch in front of the house. He smiled - and I just realized - that was his first smile since the 'verdict' was given. Almost my tears dripped as Grace's smile bloomed like a fresh rose.

 

"Delicious, right?! Here ... smell it, doesn't it smell of firewood ...?" He said while still sniffing the smoke-scented wood of firewood. "What wood is burned, huh?"

"Weeeeh, hehehe ... have you come, to? Come on in, come in ... "suddenly a rather bald man appeared from nowhere, immediately carrying our bags lightly and pushing the door. "I don't lock it, bro ... hahahahaha ... let's go in ..."

That night, the three of us had dinner. Mbah Tuhu has been widowed for thirty years and has no children. Rice with clear vegetables, chili sauce and salted fish, made my excitement rise. "Tasty, huh? Hahahaha ... sorry, Mbah never cooks ... come on, with Grace, add more ... "

"The vegetables are delicious, mbah ... fresh ..." Grace said, spooning the clear vegetable.

"Good, good ... spend it, it's really for Grace ..."

"Is this vegetable mbah?"

"What is it, huh? Hehehe ... if here, people call it lompong. That is, like taro, but small, and growing on the edge of the river ... "

"Ooo ..." I said because I really didn't know what to do.

A moment later I remembered that I must immediately convey our intentions here. However, I never got the chance to say it, because Mbah Tuhu continued to chatter and every chatter made Grace smile, even chuckle.

"Her daughter's grandmother, was a friend of mine."

"Grandmother Mimi?"

"Yes, the Mimi ... He called me, bro, because I am a pakdenya child. Wow, the wayward is asking for forgiveness ... One time, yes, really ... he jumped on a juwet tree ... "

Grace frowned, then looked at me.

"Mmm, juwet it ... um, what, huh?"

"Wow, if I speak Jakarta, I don't understand ... heheheh ..." and after giving enough explanation about what is juwet, Mbah Tuhu continues his story about Eyang Mimi. Grace laughed off when the story arrived at the Mimi Eyang screaming in the branches of the tree because it couldn't go down: afraid of caterpillars.

And today, even until our second day at Mbah Tuhu's house, I haven't been able to convey the purpose of our arrival.

Today, as yesterday, I joined Mbah Tuhu to his field. He calls his field with 'alas' (forest). I am also happy to try something that I have never done in my life — even I consider it despicable. All of my theories are about perseverance, the intensity of work, which I learned from thick books on my campus, there is no end to the nail of Mbah Tuhu's life. He lovingly, patiently, knows exactly how to treat his fields. There are peanuts, there are also some coffee stalks, some coconut stalks and somehow I don't know. I can't imagine, it even crossed that Mbah Tuhu must be wrong, when he mentioned that the yield of his field last year could reach one and a half tons of peanuts. How could it be, a land that was only less than three hundred meters long, including the south slope, could produce that much peanut?

When there are withered leaves, not yet completely dry, which are piled on the edge of the field, and I intend to burn them, Mbah Tuhu prevents them. "Ora ilok (not ethics). Let it dry first ... Don't ever burn leaves that still look green ... ora ilok. "

I stopped there. I don't know, I suddenly obeyed his words. Where is my 'critical' power all this time? Where do humans not want to believe this answer? Why is it that only in simple and very illogical terms can I be silenced?

On the way home, we passed a number of other people, which I actually did not know the boundaries of, except from the words of Mbah Tuhu. Every time he mentions this belongs to someone or someone, I try hard to find something called 'limit', but in vain. Let alone 'limits', even a single coconut that has dried out, Mbah Tuhu can recognize that it is not from his coconut tree. Strange.

 

"Yes, taken away, Mbah ... it has fallen, it means our sustenance, please ..."

Mbah Tuhu laughed while shaking his head. He still forbade me to pick up the dried coconut. "Ora ilok ..." he added.

"Yes, already, that, just that coconut branch, the dry one ... it says for fuel at home ..."

Mbah Tuhu looked at me softly, then ... "well, but later we have to tell the owner ..."

"Yes, yes ... but, then, stop by at Giman's house first ..."

"?"

"" Why, yes, ask permission first, to ... this is his own ... "he replied as he walked ahead of me.

"Mbah, this, right, just dried coconut leaves and midribs ... have fallen too ..."

"Tetep has to get permission from the owner ... this is the one who planted his father Giman, and Giman also lives on this coconut ... this is a valuable item, Le ..."

While dragging dry coconut fronds, I still don't think. How could even the items that had been wasted not be taken without the owner's permission?

That night, we had dinner. This time, Grace is cooking. Even though the cooked one was the same vegetable as yesterday, there were other feelings that developed, so I felt my food was so ravenous. In the cold air of the mountains, my sweat melted, full of delicious chili made by my wife. Before I hugged my wife in bed, we had a chance to talk about the things I had experienced that day, including asking permission for the coconut midrib to Mr. Giman.

"Know, isn't Giman's answer?" I whispered, "... please Mbah, just take it, if I don't, I'll send it again ..." I added, laughing at what I thought was ridiculous.

Grace just smiled. Then sobbed and looked at me closely.

"What is wrong?"

"Know, no? It's only been two days here, I just found out that I miss you ... "

And until the following year, when Grace's birthday, the events at Mbah Tuhu's house did not evaporate from my life. What was remarkable was that Grace's illness disappeared somewhere. Even stranger, our doctors were surprised, because only this time the cancer could disappear to its roots.

We convey the good news to the families present, including Eyang Mimi. We convey all the series of events to everyone present.

"Hmmm ... for a moment, I remember ..." interrupted Eyang (old people, usually still relative) Mimi. "Tuhu, Tuhu ...? Who is this? The child is pakde (older uncle)? As far as I know I have a pakde that is close to us, but don't have children ... Who can you get from to his house? "

"Uncle Legawa, who is in Cirebon ..." I replied confidently.

"Sukma Legawa?"

"Yes, grandparent."

"As I recall, Legawa had died almost ten years ago ... where's his wife going home, don't know; because it's an official house ... "

At that point, Grace and I fell silent. We just tried to be brave, concluding, that the memories of the Anniversary of Mimi were indeed completely unreliable.
 

Pinang, 982 

 

short story: Eksekusi (Execution)

Eksekusi (Execution)
Waluyo Basuki - 1 Februari 2009 

 

image source

It's been three days Boneng was placed in an isolation room. That means, the death sentence that has been handed down to him will be carried out immediately after all the legal measures taken have not produced results. The death penalty is deserved because there have been too many crimes committed. Starting from just tormenting roadside merchants, public transportation drivers, to stealing, maiming, robbing, robbery, and even killing, he had already done it. Only one crime he never committed, raped a woman!

But, his champions, as bad as he is, Boneng is a human, too, who has a conscience and ultimately has fear too, including fear of death.

In his prime, he used to claim he was not afraid to die to show his heroism. In the past, he felt and assumed that with the heroism and 'knowledge' he possessed, he could avoid death. On the contrary, it can easily cause the death of others. And that has been proven. Many times he escaped the threat of death and how many lives had been finished with his bare hands. He had been beaten by several fellow armed thugs, but he was not the one who died, but two people killed him in his hand, some were battered and some were runaways! He was also once chased by security officers and hit by bullets, but managed to escape without the slightest injury!

Once because of his negligence in breaking one of the taboos, Boneng was caught by officers who had hunted him for a long time. As a result, his body was battered as the target of an outlet for the aggravation of the officers who had been buried for so long. However, after being in the cell, when the officers just left his body that had been lost in shape and almost dying, he immediately took the position of sitting cross-legged in a corner of the cell while reading a mantra. After that, even though the bruises and injuries were still there, the pain that spread all over his body was completely gone. When he was beaten, he deliberately did not use his original knowledge to trick the officers. So, it is appropriate that he never feels afraid to die. also when the death sentence is dropped, he is not too afraid because he believes there are still opportunities to avoid it through legal efforts or if necessary to escape.

But now, when death is in front of his nose, his heart is thrilled too. This afternoon health officials and prison officials (prisons, honorable designations for prisons) had their health checks. And declared healthy both physically and mentally!

"Yes ... I am ready to undergo this sentence ...," he said to the clergy who came to give guidance.

"Sincerely?" Asked the clergy to convince.

"God willing, sincere ...," replied Boneng steadily even though with a trembling tone.

"Yes ... you must be sincere and must be sure that this is part of the destiny outlined by Allah subhana wa taala."

"God willing, Mr. Haji ..."

"Don't forget, multiply dhikr and istigfar to beg forgiveness to Allah subhana wa taala. Thus, hopefully you are given strength in the face of execution, which is only a few hours away. And hopefully you can end your life in a state of husnulkhatimah! "

"Really ..."

"Remember, in fact the death has been determined by time and place by Allah subhana wa taala, which is not one force that can hinder or accelerate even if it is only for a second."

"But, does my death seem to have been determined by state officials who are humans going to happen at night?"

"Yes, by birth it seems like a decisive human being, but God's essence is also decisive. Because, if God wants others, even though it has been legally determined, who can block it? "

"I mean Mr. Haji, can the execution be postponed or canceled?"

"Yes ... if it's not God's destiny, there will always be a reason to postpone it. But, it can also be the opposite, it can happen before the specified time! Well ... who dares to guarantee that everything will go according to plan? In essence, whenever death can come and don't ever let your guard down. Pick up death with confidence. "

"Good ... Mr. Haji ..."

In the criminal world, the name Boneng is quite well known. At first, only thugs from the small-scale artisan tradesmen market were just to meet their daily snack needs and smoke. However, thanks to his heroism he was able to defeat some of the more senior thugs and later become the ruler of the area around the market. Since then, he no longer needs to go to the merchants one by one, but is just waiting for the deposit of his men.

Boneng's name is increasingly fluttering and along with it is increasingly often dealing with security officers and several times huddled in prison. Through this very intensive learning process in prison, the quality and quantity of criminals is increasing.

Finally, after being crossed in the criminal world and for several times huddled in prison cells - some of them had escaped - Boneng had actually begun to repent. Despite feeling heavy and somewhat embarrassed, he started a new job on a building project as a stone mason with very little salary. However, armed with the awareness of his faith that began to build, he tried to sincerely accept the situation.

Once upon a time, he felt that the salary received was less than normal without an explanation from the foreman. At first he tried to accept sincerely, but after going on several times and knowing that he did not experience it himself, he could not hold back his anger.

"Bang ... I want to ask, is there a decrease in salary?" He asked Udin's foreman.

"Indeed, why?" Udin's foreman asked back with a snobby attitude and tone.

"Well ... why not, just knowing, how many times is my salary not as usual?"

"Why come down?"

"Yes there must be an explanation, why come down."

"That's my business, it's not your business. Lu is just a coolie! Is it still good for me to work here? "

"Yes, it can't be so bad ..." Boneng began to get inflamed, but still tried to restrain himself.

"So what do you want? You are a new child here ... don't worry ... "

"I'm just asking for my rights and those of my friends ..."

"Already ... don't bother much," said the foreman Udin as he slammed his fist into Boneng's face.

With deftness, Boneng dodged and the blow of Udin's Overseer was only about the wind.

 "Ooo ... apparently you're good at it too, can you avoid my punch ...," said Udin's foreman as he returned to throwing his fist.

"Hold Bang!" Boneng said this time immediately caught the hand of Udin's foreman. "I just want to ask my rights, not want to make a fuss."

"Waaah ... it's great too, you dare to play my game ...," said the foreman Udin while releasing the ban. "Apparently you don't know who I am ..." he continued, immediately pulling out the dagger tucked into his waist and pointing straight at Boneng.

"Patience ... I'm patient ... we don't need to fuss like this ..." Boneng tried to prevent.

"You can't ... it's about pride! Lu already made me embarrassed in front of the men ..., "shouted Udin's foreman as he immediately attacked. Several times the attack did not hit the target, making Udin's foreman frantic and continued to attack blindly.

At first Boneng tried to restrain himself by continuing to dodge and dodge. However, when his pride began to speak, his thug's soul rose again. After a few evasive attempts, he grabbed Udin's foreman's hand and immediately stared, then with all his strength pushed forward. Udin's foreman who did not expect to face a formidable opponent immediately fell down and hit his head against the concrete wall and then collapsed with his head covered in blood.

Boneng was stunned to see his opponent lying dead. In the past when watching his opponent fall down and not move like this his heart felt proud, but this time he regretted it. Especially when he realized he was still undergoing a parole. That is, if this incident is discovered by law enforcement officials, he must immediately undergo a long sentence plus the action just taken! So, the death sentence is indeed worthy of being handed down to him.

Boneng sat cross-legged in the corner of the room while continuing to recite the remembrance and istigfar that had been done since after the evening prayer. However, when the moments of execution approached his feelings began to be hit by anxiety. Suddenly tears ran down his cheeks and for the first time cried uncontrollably when he imagined the face of his wife and child who would be left forever. Remembrance and istigfar which are constantly pronounced as if they don't feel any more influence. His heart continued to beat as the ticking time continued to roll and cold sweat began to wet all over his body. He tried to overcome anxiety by slightly hardening his dhikr which began to stammer.

The time showed half past eleven o'clock. Boneng stopped his remembrance, then rose from the precepts, tidied the prayer mat that had been occupied and straightened the direction of the Qibla with the intention to perform the repentance prayer. As usual, at the last rak'ah he deliberately compared his prostration to pray for forgiveness for all the sins he had committed in his life. At times like that he feels closer and can dialogue directly with the Creator.

Around eleven o'clock, executors and doctors and clergymen came to the solitary cell to pick up the execution. Accompanied by cell guards, they enter the room to find Boneng prostrate. They also held back his steps waiting for Boneng to finish praying. One minute, two minutes, three minutes, until five minutes awaited but no movement was seen. However, they did not dare to disturb the people who were praying and asked the clergy to wake him up because the execution should not be delayed.

The clergyman moved to approach Boneng who was still prostrate.

"Neeng ... Boneeng ..." he said, poking his hip and suddenly Boneng's body rolled in a curled position like a prostrate person. Very carefully he touched Boneng's body and tried to pull his hand, then his legs. Everything is stiff!

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajiun ...," said the clergyman, turning to the officers from the Brimob guards. For a moment they looked at each other as if they did not believe. The doctor who participated in the group conducted an examination to ensure the death was medically. Boneng is dead! And then the news was made.

They stared at the lifeless body with a look of emotion. Some of them shed tears.

 

Song Lyric & Chord: Your Smile

Song Lyric & Chord: Your Smile
by Juli Sarwanto



E              A
everyday we're living our life
B                C#m
you always there in my heart

E                        A
even though the easy not always on our side
B                C#m
our heart would be stick up hard

        G#m
when the days and years gone
A
like the waves in open sea
    B
I'll be with you again

                        E
so give me your smile
A                        B
... I can't life without you
C#m                                A
and all the time that makes me going on and on
 B                    
I'll be with you again

E                                                   
when the thunder brighten up the and the light goes on
A
when the dark set aside tell world to born
B
when the love gather up images
C#m
all beauty off you, all story of you

A
With all the hardness life
                B
we'll carry on


        E                                A
to open up the right and wrong of the sky
B                                C#m
and every wound on our relationship,

E                                    A
every argument that we don't really mean
B                                            C#m
All silly thinking that we didn't really see


        G#m
when the days and years gone
A
like the waves in open sea
    BI'll be with you again


                        E
so give me your smile
A                        B
   i can't life without you
C#m                                A
and all the time that makes me goin on and on
 B                    
I'll be with you again

E                                                   
when the thunder brighten up the and the light goes on
A
when the dark set aside tell world to born
B
when the love gather up images
C#m
all beauty off you, all story of you

A
With all the hardness life
                B
we'll carry on

        E                                A
to open up the right and wrong of the sky
B                                C#m
I will be with you, i will be with you...

Money : the missing manual

This post is about a book called "money: the missing manual". I got to know this book from Blog Walking that I've done. This book tell the story of the people of our generation that didn't have enough education about money in the school. We got to learn mathematics, science, literature, history, and so on, but not money, not tax.
The problem is that  "money" is even bigger problem that should be tackled by most people, considering he lives in the modern society and not inside the cave. 
Cavemen didn't have enough complex economic and socio culture under the impression of money. Just think about it. Every damn advertisement in every corner you see and hear is to make money move from one people to another people. Cavemen didn't need to care about how society think about him when he doesn't have a car. Cavemen didn't need to care how his neighbor would think about his house, about how much IKEA product standing in his room. Cavemen not need that, cavemen live with the solely purpose of living and, you know, having sex breeding. He live in the way that nature bring him all he need, but of course, he must get to work to get it. It just men against nature.

But all was too different for this "modern" people, which have more complex shit to be thinking when you be a part and member of society. Society in which now being captured by capitalism in every corner that scream "consume! consume! consume!" that diluting of simple and holy purpose of the cavemen: survive and having fun,  to make a baby, preserve next generation of human. Modern People Thinking that intoxicated by  short term happiness of buying, of owning, of destroying, but not really creating, not really independent of what to do in his own time to be alive as the perpose was changing into become the not really so able to understand what his purpose are, other than what every corner of advertisement tell him to do.

Short Story: Cerita tentang Hujan (The Story of The Rain)

Cerita tentang Hujan (The Story of The Rain)

K Usman - 25 Januari 2009

painting rain art prompt

When it rains and is alone, I remember Anatolia. The six-year-old little girl is the daughter of a beautiful young woman. Olive name. They live in a good rental house, a few meters in front of my house. In that house no man lived. The driver who drove Anatolia arrived in the morning, came home late in the afternoon. Si Anatolia's father never showed his nose. Now, the house is quiet.

During the afternoon that Sunday Anatolia did not appear in my house. From ten in the morning, he attended Sofia's birthday party, his compatriot. Afternoon, Anatolia was escorted to my house by Uun, the painstaking and faithful housemaid. As impatient, Anatolia asked me to tell about rain.

"Uncle, tell me about rain," he pleaded once again.

"What's wrong with the rain?" I asked, watching the increasingly heavy rain. I opened the door wide so that the room lit up. So, I don't need to turn on the lights.

The first year elementary school student turned towards the rain. He listened to rain songs on the tiled roofs, leaves, twigs, branches and trees. The raindrops were sad. An elegy, I thought. Anatolia's cute face, since meeting me was always moody. His eyes were sad. The growing daughter missed someone. He also really needs love.

I often imagine, raindrops have small feet. They always unite and line up neatly. So they become very strong. Millions of raindrops slipped between the roots of trees in the forest, seeped, then settled in the bowels of the earth. The water saving is very beneficial if there is a long dry season. The strong little feet of rain were not like Anatolia's legs. The child's feet are not free to step, according to his will. Olives always forbid him from leaving home. Zaitun said, outside the house, Ana could be kidnapped by a bad person. However, after a year with my neighbor, Olives allowed Anatolia to play in my house on holidays. Of course, the little virgin must be escorted by Uun, if Olives is not at home.

If I haven't met Anatolia for a while, I think something's missing. The little yellow-faced and yellow-skinned girl has become a part of my life. In the office, I often tell my close friends about Anatolia. Then, my friends chuckled. They guessed that I and Olive, the beautiful and smart, had a special relationship. I said: I'm only friends with Anatolia! Not with his mother! Only once did I meet with Olives, which was when I came to get acquainted, early last year.

"Tell me about the rain, Uncle," Anatolia begged once again.

I'm happy to tell you about the occurrence of rain: First, the sun's heat heats the water so it turns into steam. The warm moist air soars high and the top becomes cold. The steam turns into small grains of water, which cools condensation. Then, clouds formed in the sky. The water points in the cloud become bigger and heavier, then fall to the earth as rain. Three quarters of the rain fell back into the ocean. A quarter, fell on land.

Anatolia asked again, "Uncle, is rain good for living things?" I replied, of course rain is good for all living things. Humans and animals need water for drinking and bathing. Water is also used by humans to wash clothes, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and other necessities. Rainwater will fertilize the soil. When the land is fertile, any plant lives fertile, fresh, radiant, and useful for fellow life.

Anatolia also asks, if it is good for all beings, why does rain cause flash floods and landslides? Flash floods and landslides cause humans and other creatures to suffer, and objects are damaged, he said.

Rest assured, I say, rain has never been evil to sentient beings. Flash floods and landslides are not a mistake of rain! If forests are deforested after being cleared wildly by humans, flash floods and landslides can occur. Flash floods and landslides can also occur if tall buildings have stood tightly in vacant lots, in many places. Rubbish that pollutes gutters, lakes, rivers, and the sea, is also a cause of flooding. So, flash floods and landslides are human errors, I said firmly.

"Uncle, tell me about my friends, rain," begged Anatolia as well. Anatolia said, Olga, his classmate was good at telling stories about frogs singing so much to ask for rain to come down soon. The frogs sing during the dry season. Anatolia wants to hear stories about other rainy friends.

Besides frogs, I say, rain friends are humans, other animals, and plants. Forests, bushes, rivers, lakes and oceans are rainy friends too, I continued.

"What's more about rain, Uncle?" Anatolia asked.

The Aztec Indians in Central America adore the rain god Tlaloc, my story. Indian tribes in North America performed a special dance so that the spirits sent rain to their country to fertilize farmland. If the dry season is very long, usually Muslims worship the Istiqarah Sunnah in congregation to beg Allah Almighty that the rain falls to the earth, my heart. Other religious people prayed, begging God to rain in the dry season, I continued.

The temperature is hot in the air, around us, I continued. The heat comes from the sun. Now, when the temperature is very low, not rain falling to the earth, but snowstorms, chunks of ice, or snowfall, I connect the story.

"Did the snow fall in Jakarta, Uncle?" Anatolia asked again.

"Uncle has never seen snowfall in Jakarta, honey," I replied.

One Saturday afternoon, I visited Anatolia's house for the second time. Olives is still a task in South Korea. The driver is delivering Anatolia piano lessons. There is only Uun in the house. I asked Uun, why did Anatolian's father leave? Uun wants to tell, as long as I promise, I won't tell Olive and Anatolia. I promised him, would not tell anyone.

Uun told me, after visiting outside: Anatolian father left after being expelled by Olives, he said. At that time, Anatolia would be the 5th anniversary, in an old rented house. After not working in a foreign company because he was dismissed, Anatolian father was unemployed. As a result of being unemployed for a long time, he is easily offended, jealous, likes to be angry with harsh words. At that time, Anatolian father yelled at Olives. The man asked for more money to buy liquor. However, Olive refused Uto's request. When Uto was about to punch Olive, Anatolia defended his mother. The child bit his father's right thigh. The father yelled the boy in a thunderous voice. Anatolian father was dismissed from work because he was found using company money to gamble, parties, and drunk, continued Uun.

Anatolian father since gone never returned, Uun told me. Olives is a kind employer, Uun continues his story. He works in an automotive company owned by a South Korean businessman. Olives holds an engineering degree. His position is high in the big automotive company. Olive always comes home at night. He is often also assigned abroad. Anatolia asks his mother, if old Olives don't go home. Anatolians often cry when they wake up at night, Uun continued.

The intelligent-minded Anatolia asked me, why was Uncle alone at home? I answered, I don't have a wife yet. Doesn't Uncle feel lonely? Anatolia asked too. Of course it's quiet, I replied. But, Uncle likes to make stories, read, run in the morning, after Fajr prayer, cooking, gardening, and watching good movies, I added.

One Sunday, twilight is drifting. I was startled by the voice of the woman greeting at the gate. Outside the fence stood Olive. He developed a broad-leaf umbrella. The woman's face was very pale. His eyes are puffy and blue. I hurriedly opened the turnstile. I let him in. Olive covers me when I pull the gate. We went to the living room in unison.

There was a little gift, said Olive before sitting on the couch. He handed over a large bottle wrapped in brown shiny paper. Fill the bottle is a vitamin drink for body fresheners from Korea, namely water ginseng mixed with honey. Thank you, I said after welcoming the souvenir from South Korea. I let him sit down. I did not forget to ask, why was Anatolia not invited? Olives was surprised after hearing my question. He looked at me suspiciously.

"I'm sure Anatolia is here," said Olives. His face suddenly became tense. "So, my child is not here?" He thought, I hid his child in my house.

Olives said Anatolia left home when he was in the office. Anatolia did not want to be invited to move to South Korea, said Zaitun. He was afraid of Uto Kwon Lee, his father. Carefully I told Anatolia before going to bed last night, I and Uto would repair a broken house. Uto has apologized. He regretted all his wrongdoings. Uto has repented to God. He promised to be a good husband for me and a loving father for Anatolia. I pondered for a month, then forgave him. Anatolia, who always obeyed me, suddenly became a dissident, he continued while wiping tears.

Anatolia was afraid of Uto Kwon Lee, said Olives. Anatolia always remembers, when it will celebrate its 5th birthday, first. His father did not give a birthday present as usual, but was angry with a rude voice. Olive said goodbye, but continued to cry. His whole body trembled. He was very panicked. He was worried, his little girl had been kidnapped by a bad person. Anxiousness sneaked in my heart.

That night, as the drizzle drifted, I heard people greeting outside the fence. I immediately won the umbrella. I opened the door. Outside the fence I saw an adult man and two little girls. I hurriedly unlocked the gate.

"Eh, Anatolia!" I shouted when I saw the little girl with her daughter her age under a wide umbrella. The umbrella was held by an adult man. Anatolia introduced Sofia and her father, Mr. Arif. In the living room, Anatolia told a story. He went to Sofia's house after piano lessons, without the driver being escorted. The driver is sick again. Sofia's mother forbade Anatolia to go home alone. After returning from work, after the Isha prayer, Arif and Sofia escorted Anatolia to my house at the request of the child. He was afraid of being scolded by his mother. After Mr. Arif and Sofia said goodbye, I invited Anatolia to eat warm quail egg soup, my food. He refused because he was still full after eating meatballs and drinking milk in Sofia's house.

Over an hour I persuaded Anatolia to go home. I told of the arrival of Olives to my house. Your mother was very panicked and sad. "But, I don't want to come with you to South Korea!" Anatolia shouted. "I'm afraid of my father," he continued, hugging me tightly.

Olive's story about Uto Kwon Lee's regret I repeat. The man will love Anatolia. He also promised to be a good husband for Olives. Then, I persuaded Anatolia to go home soon. Your mother is very afraid of losing you, I whispered softly. After a long pause, a faint smile appeared on her beautiful face. Uncle want to take me home? He asked. I nodded. If you are angry, how? Anatolia asked again. You tell the truth to Mother, I said. If you feel you have something wrong, apologize, huh? Uncle is very sure, Mother is not angry anymore, I said. I heard lightning boom outside. The rain is getting heavier. The wind is getting stronger. Television reported, a storm was raging on the beach, that night.

At eight o'clock in the evening, I drove Anatolia in my old deer car to his house. Olives roared, hugged, and kissed her child. When I said goodbye, Anatolia ran towards me. He cried while embracing me. I stroked his straight hair and convinced him that Uto, his father missed him so much.

"If I come with you to South Korea, who accompanies Uncle?" Anatolia asked innocently while looking at me.

"Uh, em, in the office, there are Uncle's friends," I replied nervously, held back.

***

This Sunday, the rain fell. The rented house on the other side is empty and quiet. I remembered Anatolia. He has been with his parents for a long time in South Korea. If the little girl asks for a story about rain, I hope her father and mother can fulfill their wishes happily ...

Pasar Rebo, December 16, 2008 - January 12, 2009

Short Story: Anak Ikan (little fish)

Anak Ikan (little fish) 

Fitra Yanti - Published 18 Januari 2009 

little fish

Whenever I put my head on his chest, I felt struck by a flash of fire? Wonder. There was a roar of boiling there. Instantly, I just want to be a fish kid swimming freely to the bottom of the lake.

I remember, that was the last dawn. I saw my brother pushed aside the blanket and kissed the forehead of the woman who always slept beside her. The woman woke up and tiptoeing to the well, fighting against the body's shock in the cold air.

I don't know exactly what they are doing. What was clear afterwards, they both changed clothes. The woman was wearing a sarong and a large veil that had been sewn. They lift and fold their hands on the chest. For a moment there was a hiss of their voices. Then he doesn't speak like a person reciting Al Quran. Soon, they looked down at their knees and kissed the floor.

Usually, I also come with them. I didn't wear a big hood like that woman. He wrapped a long cloth over my face by pinning a pin under my chin and the edge of the cloth of the small sarong he wrapped around my waist. I follow them move. For me this is an exciting game.

When they kiss the floor I follow too. But I let my head go to the woman next to me like reading something. It's not clear they read what. I move my mouth. Hopefully the same as what they read. Every now and then I'm tired, I just sit or I switch to a stand. While waiting for all movements to finish.

But, apart from being very cold, I still felt that there was something unfinished between me and the woman behind the brother. I just saw them from where I slept. After all their movements were finished, the woman kissed his brother's hand. A sincere kiss. I again saw a flash of fire lick my hands. I don't know what to call it.

My eyes just watched what they both did. The woman walked towards me. He smiled. Something similar to the stretching of the flames was increasingly felt, as if spraying my face. But when I saw my brother approaching my bed, everything turned cool and as usual returned.

"You already wake up," said brother before kissing my forehead. I just smiled while rubbing my eyes, which had been rather blurry and felt a little itchy. He extended his hand to me. I know this sign. Surely he invited me to wake up. I greet her hand. Hap! Now I'm in his arms. I rolled my hand to his neck. The warmth that flowed from his body did not completely eliminate my bite.

"Bak, it's cold ..."

"No problem. If you wash your face, the cold must be gone, "his lips suddenly stuck on my cheek.

"Now we wash our faces first !?"

I turned my face to his chest.

"Girls can't be like that. She must get up early, must dare to fight cold, " He carried me to the well and washed my face while teaching me to use a toothbrush. At the well, my older brother is already there. Abak told me to follow my brother's example. Later when I grow up, I'm also good at doing it myself.

Next, my second brother followed to the well. My sister followed number three. Next, brother number four. I haven't taught me about how much I have a brother. We all have five people, as many as one hand. All women. I am the smallest. My brothers have gone to school all. Soon, I'm going to school too. But, I don't know. I prefer playing to the lake, with the fish.

Abak then guided my hand in front of the woman who suddenly appeared from behind my brother.

"Mar, I'm going to the lake first," said brother

"Yes, Da," answered the woman.

"Bak, come along!" I didn't want to be left with the woman. I want to take part in going to the lake, raising trawl. I want to see fish in the trawling eye. He said, the entangled fish were large and could be caught. Whereas small fish have not been caught. If caught, it must be removed again. Let him play freely until big.

"Like you ..." said brother. (At that time he invited me to go up to the midwife) "... still little should not be hurt. If it's big, get ready to be hurt. Because there will be something that will hurt. "

"Can you be friends with the little fish, Bak?"

"May. As long as you are not evil with them. "

"The fish also has mak, huh, Bak?"

"Certain. The makings are always keeping them like they are guarding Idah. "

"But it's often evil to Idah."

"Mak evil to Idah. Hmm, that's not a bad name. That's because you love Idah ... "

Then, I told my brother about the flash of fire that was covering the woman's body. Abak even laughed, not believing. He pinched my cheek and banned me from thinking that was nonsense. But, you can't. When not near abak, the flash of fire was so real that it locked the body of the woman who (must) call the mak. So, every time I go to the lake, I always want to come.

"Where do you want to go? To the lake? Not now huh You are still small. "It will sink and be eaten by fish," said the woman while reaching for me in her arms.

"Yes. Later this afternoon I will bring the kulari fish, huh. We burn for your lunch. We mix the meat with samba lado. Hm, the children are already learning to eat chili. Just at home, with you, "persuaded my brother.

I insisted on releasing the woman's arms and following my brother. He was already wearing thick clothes that were already very worn. Torn cotton pants. Here and there are patches of mud. And a pandanus hat that he also used to bring to the fields.

"Saidah! You can't go! "He snapped at me. I kept silent while still staring at him from behind. If that's the case, I'll stop there. Withered where I was standing.

"Later in the afternoon, if you have time, you will take the boat to the middle of the lake, huh. Now accompany your mate at home, "I nodded with all my insincerity. Abak left. I'm still sitting there.

"Idah, come here. Help me, "although I was still horrified, I just obeyed while hearing his persuasion about me who would soon be attending school following my brother. Also the story is about a girl who shouldn't go to the lake and all the talk about complaining lately about me too often. I understand too.

He said, soon I will have a younger brother. He said again, being married to a lake fisherman was like changing a fish. Life only in water. While children continue to be born. How to explain the price of kitchen items that skyrocketed to him if he kept watching the lake all day long. Many more complaints that I have not been able to understand jumping up and down from his mouth.

He gave me some shallots and a small knife. I didn't really listen to his words because my heart was still pity because it was not allowed to go abak to the lake. He did not know how glad I was to be near my brother, seeing him pull trawl from the water. And on the trawler stick some fish, which are then placed in the black plastic bag that has been provided from the house.

When I was taken to the lake, because the woman who (I had to) call the Amak early in the morning had to go to a place that she said was very unlikely to take me. That's why brother cared for me.

At that time I felt another atmosphere. My body growled to see the fish stuck to the trawl eye. I often squealed with joy. My hand is reaching out to the fish I have taken. This of course makes the brother also scream. Not screaming pleasure, but screaming anxiety. The crook used is not shaken. Every moment he gave me a bite and sat on his lap with his left hand. While the other hand held the trawl so that it did not come loose. Because if it is released it will be difficult to take it again.

Since then, every time I go to the lake, I always want to go. In the morning it is usually not allowed. For whatever reason, I never said that he was afraid I would fall into the lake and he did not want his little girl to be swallowed by a lake and eaten by fish. But I never ignored the reason for the brother. What I always felt in my heart was to allow me to go up in the midwife and lock the ripples and the children of the fish that suckled into the bowels. I like that atmosphere, far more like being nurtured by a woman wrapped in that flame.

Actually, I want to complain to my brother. I did not feel at home for a long time near the woman. But, I can't say it again to my brother. Abak must have been unbelieving and would scold me if I suddenly told him. I want to say, that he is only good in front of his brother. He looked so obedient to his brother, but behind him, he changed. There was a fire wrapped around his body. From his eyes which looked very cruel to me also sprinkled sparks.

I also want to complain about the complaints that I don't understand too often from the thin lips of the woman. I fostered with grunts and pinches that redden the base of my legs. Sometimes with coconut sticks and hair traps near my ears. This one, of course, makes the unbeliever more faithful. Especially if I say to my brother, during my absence at the lake, the woman often leaves me alone at home, until my brothers go home from school.

Sprinkling of foam, and the children of fish that suckle into the belly, every moment waving miss me invites me to swim, sink into the coldest base.

Morning is still black. I saw sleep was so good. I was horrified at the thought of darkness dominating nature. But, I felt the footsteps of the woman who guided me were eager to get to the lake. He said, you can't know. He said again, he would take me to the lake early in the morning, because the fish children swam to the edge of the lake in the morning.

I spread my eyes. Every now and then it still remained swollen in my mouth. I can't wait, I want to see the fish children. We are now at the edge of the lake. My ankles began to touch the lips of the ripples. The woman still guides me. He took me to the midwife and sat me in his lap. Then he paddled the midwife into the middle of the lake.

"Wait, yes. Soon, the fish children will come, "he kissed me. From his eyes sparks sparkled. The flash of fire that wrapped around his body was unable to repel the cold I felt. I resigned, waiting for the fish to come.

The fish invited me to swim here and there. He took me to a place deeper and deeper into the darkness. Every now and then I surface. My body is now so light and no longer feels cold. But, when I reached the surface, suddenly my eyes were fixed on the woman. He roared on the edge of the lake there. He rolled. Then, many people gathered around him. Some people look very busy, wandering around the edge of the lake.

Strange. I don't see brother. However, not long ago, I saw my brother paddling his midwife into the middle of the lake, looking around in all directions while shouting my name. I reply to my brother's call. But my mouth is now full of water. No sound came out. Finally, the fish mothers who are now taking care of me guide my fins to swim to the side, bro. I see my eyes are red and swollen like people are angry. His lips did not stop calling my name. The rower in his hand shivered. If only I hadn't really become a fish child, of course I would go up to the big brother, accompany him to raise trawl while occasionally shouting excitedly. ***

Padang, April 2008I also want to complain about the complaints that I don't understand too often from the thin lips of the woman. I fostered with grunts and pinches that redden the base of my legs. Sometimes with coconut sticks and hair traps near my ears. This one, of course, makes the unbeliever more faithful. Especially if I say to my brother, during my absence at the lake, the woman often leaves me alone at home, until my brothers go home from school.

Sprinkling of foam, and the children of fish that suckle into the belly, every moment waving miss me invites me to swim, sink into the coldest base.

Morning is still black. I saw sleep was so good. I was horrified at the thought of darkness dominating nature. But, I felt the footsteps of the woman who guided me were eager to get to the lake. He said, you can't know. He said again, he would take me to the lake early in the morning, because the fish children swam to the edge of the lake in the morning.

I spread my eyes. Every now and then it still remained swollen in my mouth. I can't wait, I want to see the fish children. We are now at the edge of the lake. My ankles began to touch the lips of the ripples. The woman still guides me. He took me to the midwife and sat me in his lap. Then he paddled the midwife into the middle of the lake.

"Wait, yes. Soon, the fish children will come, "he kissed me. From his eyes sparks sparkled. The flash of fire that wrapped around his body was unable to repel the cold I felt. I resigned, waiting for the fish to come.

The fish invited me to swim here and there. He took me to a place deeper and deeper into the darkness. Every now and then I surface. My body is now so light and no longer feels cold. But, when I reached the surface, suddenly my eyes were fixed on the woman. He roared on the edge of the lake there. He rolled. Then, many people gathered around him. Some people look very busy, wandering around the edge of the lake.

Strange. I don't see brother. However, not long ago, I saw my brother paddling his midwife into the middle of the lake, looking around in all directions while shouting my name. I reply to my brother's call. But my mouth is now full of water. No sound came out. Finally, the fish mothers who are now taking care of me guide my fins to swim to the side, bro. I see my eyes are red and swollen like people are angry. His lips did not stop calling my name. The rower in his hand shivered. If only I hadn't really become a fish child, of course I would go up to the big brother, accompany him to raise trawl while occasionally shouting excitedly. ***

Padang, April 2008