Dimulai dengan ‘oleh-oleh’ berupa sebatang pensil biru dengan hiasan bunga di atasnya. Nila memberikannya pada saya sepulangnya dari TheBodyShop. Dia bilang pensil itu dibagi-bagikan secara gratis. Saya langsung melonjak-lonjak kegirangan, meraut si pensil sampai runcing, dan tersenyum simpul tiap kali menggunakannya untuk menulis.
Kemudian, pada suatu siang yang lengas, saya dan Nila bersama-sama mendamparkan diri di TheBodyShop. Girang mendapatkan pembatas buku biru gratis dengan hiasan bunga di atasnya. Kami pun menyumbang Rp 10.000,- di kotak amal, kemudian mendapat kesempatan memutar “Wheel-of-Fortune”. Roda berputar, kemudian berhenti pada alur berwarna ungu… dan kami pun dihadiahi masing-masing sebuah agenda merah tua dari beludru. Kami mengisi agenda itu dengan lembar-lembar kertas di dalam taksi sepanjang perjalanan pulang. Merabanya. Tertawa. Menyelipkan bolpen. Senang.
Suatu siang, saya dan Nila bersarang di dapur kantor.
Kami terkikik-kikik ketika dengan bersemangat membuat dua gelas Nescafe frappe–yang dibawakan seorang kawan dari Yunani. Kami mem-’blender’ frappe sambil mengobrol riang, kemudian menuangkan susu cair ke dalam cangkir dengan penuh semangat. Sambil menyeruput busa frappe, kami berjingkat-jingkat kembali ke meja masing-masing.
Hari ini, kami kembali berada di dapur. Membuat berondong jagung; berdiri di depan microwave, tertawa-tawa setiap kali biji-biji jagung itu meletup. Harumnya mulai tercium. Dan kami pun mulai menaburkan bubuk keju. Mengguncang-guncang kantung kertasnya agar seluruh bubuk tercampur merata ke seluruh butir-butirnya. Nila terbahak ketika melihat rambut saya bergoyang ke kiri dan ke kanan; saking semangatnya saya mengguncang-guncangkan kantung kertas itu.
Kami tertawa. Cekikikan. Kembali ke meja kami yang bersebelahan. Dan berbagi sekantong berondong jagung. Senang.
Beberapa waktu yang lalu, kami pernah berkata pada satu sama lain,”Hal-hal beginian aja bisa bikin kita senang! Kasihan ya, kita?!! Ya ampun, kita sangat mudah untuk dipuaskan!”. Kemudian kami pun tertawa terbahak-bahak.
Detik ini saya menyadari kata ‘kasihan’ itu sangatlah bernada menyindir. Sebaliknya, kami termasuk orang-orang paling beruntung di dunia! Bayangkan, kami masih bisa melayang bahagia dan tak berhenti tertawa hanya karena secangkir frappe dan sebatang pensil gratisan…
Dalam dunia di mana kebahagiaan mulai menjadi sesuatu yang mahal dan perlu diperjuangkan, tentu saja kami merasa sedemikian beruntung karena masih bisa merasa senang hanya dengan memandangi berondong jagung meletup-letup di dalam microwave.
Jam 9 pagi. Berlari pulang.
Ada sesuatu yang membuat saya sedikit terburu-buru.
Tangan kanan: satu pot lavender dan tanaman sirih-sirihan; tangan kiri: sebungkus soto mie dan berbagai macam gorengan. Ada sesuatu yang membuat saya sedikit tergesa meletakkan bungkusan-bungkusan tanpa dibereskan. Mengguyur telapak kaki yang panas dengan air dingin, kemudian berlari-lari ke kamar. Meraih telepon genggam–dan menyadari ada satu pesan singkat bertengger di layar:
Dengan bangga kuakui
diri ini sudah tidak
singel lagi. He he he
Saya tertegun sejenak. Kemudian terbahak. That is so you :)
Selamat! Ternyata kamu duluan …
*a gift for Silent Soul’s 1st anniversary :)
I started to think that though I have been trying so damn hard to deny it, the fact remains the same: I love him as much as I hate him; the fact that these follies drive me mad and eat up my sanity bit by bit. And I wonder if I could ever call it a quit.
I thought I have managed to get over him and all those cheesy feelings. But when I found out that he had left a message in my mailbox a few days ago, my heart beat fast. Suddenly the room turned colder, as well as my palms, and it was hard to breathe. It took no more than a sec before I completely turned into an airhead.
I was overflowed with this stupid utopia that he must have dropped some meaningful lines for me, and that he would really “talk” to me through this email—remembering that it had been years since our last chit-chat.
But, of course, as usual, my heart sank when I clicked the subject of his mail and those lines appeared on my iBook’s screen. It was a meaningless sentence; a slight “thank you” in a very formal tone, indicating that the reason he dropped the line was merely an act of courtesy.
It made me want to scream and curse. (I didn’t cry, my tears were already accustomed to a certain level of pain he caused—and this shit was nothing compared to what have happened years ago)
My friends started to think that I was obsessed, which might be true. But you just can’t find a getaway from you feelings, can you? It’s in your head and it becomes a part of you and you just can’t ditch this feelings no matter how hard you try. Crossed my mind that probably I should give Ms. Kassandra a call and asked her if she could help me with a hypnotherapy of some sort. Probably that will work.
Oh, this is so shallow! I’m in really deep shit. I’m sick. And I can easily laugh at myself at this very moment! I am nothing more than a shallow-minded person who places to much hope on such silly stuffs.
As I started to think that I should have just ended it all, I realized that it was impossible: because nothing has ever begun after all.
In our one and only ‘cursing-session’: discussing about the same old crap over and over again. Laughing at those vivid images in our mind about how sweet revenge would be.
Crossed my mind, that these stupid conversation will make us feel better. That is so wrong. We always ends up feeling even worse.
It makes me look like Yoshimoto Nara’s artwork.
I’m just being cynical, but …
there will come a day when you just have to face it all—whether you like it or not. Those past mistakes of yours, those sins awaiting to be redeemed, those regrets that had been haunting you for years…
One day, the hottest club can no longer be your asylum; the wildest party can no longer divert you from these irritating thoughts; even those glistening liquids can no longer ditch those guilty feelings that swarm under your skin.
Yes, you can always cut your wrist or swallow some pills if you’d like to. But this life will go on, with… or without you.
God, why don’t you give yourself a chance?
You deserve it as much as I do!
The small world phenomenon (also known as the small world effect) is the hypothesis that everyone in the world can be reached through a short chain of social acquaintances.
The concept gave rise to the famous phrase six degrees of separation* after a 1967 small world experiment by social psychologist Stanley Milgram; which suggested that two random US citizens were connected on average by a chain of six acquaintances.
*Karinthy, a Hungarian writer, was actually the first proponent of this concept in his 1929 short story “Chains”.
So, why am I talking about these things out of nowhere? Here is the reason why:
It was early in the morning. The office was still empty. I sat on my desk for a while, facing my laptop, with a cup of coffee in my hand. Without knowing the exact reason why, suddenly my mind wandered to B–a talented rock guitarist who left the famous rock band G*** in 1995 and flew to the US. I wonder what he’s been up to these days.
So, I went ‘googling’ and typed his name on the search box. The search results came out. The first line was an old piece about his performance in Dago Tea House. But it was the second line that surprised me the most.
The result on the second line was originated from an Indonesian website gitaris.com, contained this posting from a Canadian guy named Ian MacNeil:
“Hello, I’m a guitarist from Toronto, Canada. My name is Ian MacNeil. I am a good friend of ABS. I am trying to find B. If you know how to locate B, he can send me email. My email address is ****@hotmail.com. Thank you. Landau rules!”
I was stunned for a few minutes, and then decided to drop this guy an email–asked him if he had found B (remembering that he posted this message on February 2006).
I was surprised when the next morning, I found his reply in my mailbox. Ian said that he hadn’t found B; he was hoping that I could help him. Ian is a guitarist himself, he was a close friend of B back in the US, and after B came back to Indonesia, he lost contact with him. Apparently, B has somehow changed his email address without informing Ian about it.
Ian asked me if I knew B’s new email address, so he could drop him a message. I told him I have no clue about B’s new email address, however, I have told B that Ian was looking for him.
About an hour after that, Ian dropped me another email:
“Hi Hanny! I just finished speaking to B!!! Thank you so much for getting the information to me! He is a great guy! I’m a crazy Canadian guitar player too! B is my gear brother!!! I haven’t spoken to him for over 5 years! This is really great! Thanks again :)”
I was speechless. This shit really happened? It was just amazing to be a part of such a cool reunion! And the most incredible thing is: over a billion surfers on the net, I am the one who found Ian’s message—and, coincidentally, I know the guy he’s looking for!
Came to think about it, probably there is no such thing as coincidence…
Those vivid images struck me.
I was pinned into my seat; trembled, as I watched the fundamentalists destroyed an ethnic group as well as their precious historical site, in a country suffered from what seemed like never-ending crusades.
The question popped out immediately in my mind:
“Are we praying to the same God?”
I don’t even want to think that we are.
Definitely, I don’t worship the same God that ‘allows’ sadistic massacre towards living beings—or even cultural heritages. I believe in God that is full of life and love; that is kind and gentle, even humorous in such a heavenly way.
If religions can no longer make this world a better place … what to stick to, then? When so-called religious people declared war in the name of their religion and started killing other living beings, polluted the air, earth, and water… what to believe, then?
Why do we try to convert those secluded tribes from being animists and dynamists into what we called ‘civilized and religious individuals’? While these ‘retarded’ tribes preserved the nature and live in harmony with mother earth; we destroyed the world simultaneously with our ‘intelligence’.
What is the meaning of religion, then?
Why do people put greater effort into forcing rituals than sincerely being humane? Why do people put greater belief in shallow translation of ancient manuscripts rather than natural kindness?
Why do people understand this world merely in black and white—while other colors are there to beautify life itself?
A while back, everybody saw you as if you were a rock star of some sort.
It seemed like you have everything a guy could ever wanted: popularity, fancy car, wealthy parents, handsome face, so-damn-cool attitude, the guts to rebel all kinds of rules, an amazing collection of hot chicks … the list was just endless. All boys were crazy about being your sidekicks and all girls were dying to be your lover.
But then … there were times when the fame suddenly faded away. It was like someone had scattered a magic powder and—puff!; everything was gone in less than a sec. Before you could even digest what have happened, the lights went out, the curtain closed, and you were forced to get off the stage.
Then came along your turn to stare at those who were once “freaks” to you with envy. They just … took over everything that once was yours. From that moment on, they were the ones who reigned the stage.
You were out. You were so last year.
This is life, bro. It’s unbelievably fair in many ways that we couldn’t comprehend. Just face it.
Your game is so over.
Ours have just begun.
Hari Minggu: macet, penuh, panas. Akhirnya saya mengajukan syarat: “Traktir es krim sepuas gue, ya?”
Ternyata kamu bilang iya.
Kita melarikan diri dari panas terik siang itu dengan bersarang di sebuah gerai es krim yang lengang. Buat saya, dua scoop es krim selalu bisa mendinginkan hati. Sedangkan kamu cuma ikut saja ke mana saya pergi.
Kita makan es krim sampai lidah nyaris beku, dan tertawa gila-gilaan sampai sakit perut. Kemudian, sambil menunggu bon diantarkan, kamu bercanda,”Ampun, deh lo selalu bisa bikin gue ketawa sampe gila, seberapapun suntuknya gue. Kenapa gue nggak pacaran sama lo aja, ya?”
Tanpa pikir panjang lagi, saya menjawab, “Karena, lo pacaran bukan untuk ketawa sampe gila. Kalo untuk itu, udah ada gue. Lo pacaran untuk menghabiskan waktu dengan seseorang yang bisa membuat lo jatuh cinta sampai gila.”
Kamu mematung sebentar. Demikian juga saya. Saat-saat di mana batasan antara kenyataan dan harapan menghilang. Dan dengan sangat ‘manusiawi’ kita berpikir, “Kenapa kita tidak pernah bisa mendapatkan dua-duanya?”
(1). Why have I never dreamt of you in my sleep? Perhaps it’s because you’re too gorgeous to be seen in a dream. Or perhaps, I just need to think of you more often. Or … hey, listen to this (!): the most possible reason is that God prevents me from dreaming of you, because God knows, once I dreamed about you, I would never want to wake up again…
(2). On a night like this, I just love to think of you. It warmth my soul … just by knowing that you’re breathing the same air somewhere out there. I love to go out at night and glancing at the stars that are twinkling adorably. It’s sad that my lovely star is out of sight. It’s too far to be seen. You’re so lucky, for you can see my lovely star everytime you’re standing in front of a mirror! ;p
(3). Have you ever felt like your life is too hectic and your head is too noisy, and everyone seems too busy? Why, the world have become a better place for me because as things went too hectic, too noisy, or too busy, I always have a silent place inside of me, a sanctuary. Deep down inside my heart, there’s this feeling … a kind of lonely feeling that comforts me instead of making me feel low. A silent place where I could find myself who’s loving you. Just us, as I always love it.
(4). Alone, I’m dreaming of those days we’ll spend together … With you by my side, it would be impossible for me to dream of anything else; because I would never want to sleep again. The moment would be too precious, I wouldn’t want to close my eyes. I’d be too afraid that if I closed my eyes, the next time I opened it, the moment has gone. Miss you!
Saya kangen waktu-waktu yang saya habiskan untuk menulis surat-surat pendek itu. Saya kangen menghitung-hitung waktu dan merancang strategi pengiriman agar surat-surat pendek itu akan tepat terbaca begitu kamu bangun tidur besok pagi.
Ini di luar akal sehat saya, tapi saya cuma ingin bilang: “Damn, I miss you”.