Fragrance of Love: Catatan dari Kedai Teh Lare Solo.

Semuanya nampak seperti serangkaian “kebetulan”.

Seorang sahabat dari luar kota mengajak saya ‘sowan’ ke sebuah kedai teh mungil di kota tempat saya tinggal. Kedai teh yang belum pernah saya dengar namanya, dan belum pernah saya kunjungi sebelumnya.

Di kedai teh ini, kami berbincang tentang banyak hal, seperti biasa. Dan selagi kami berbincang tentang kamu, pemilik kedai teh itu—seorang lelaki bertubuh kecil dan berwajah ramah, datang menyapa. Ia kemudian menyodorkan sebungkus teh hasil racikannya sendiri, yang disimpannya di dalam sebuah kaleng.

Saya menghirup wangi teh dalam bungkusan itu. Segar; seperti wangi laut dan musim panas.

Lantas, jika kamu percaya bahwa tidak ada hal yang bernama ‘kebetulan’ di dunia ini, maka bukan kebetulan pula jika teh racikan di dalam kaleng itu bernama Fragrance of Love. Campuran dari berbagai jenis teh asli Indonesia dengan chammomile, peppermint, kulit jeruk, dan serai (lemongrass).

***

Nama kedai teh itu Lare Solo.

Kedainya kecil saja, seperti warung-warung teh yang biasa kamu temui di perjalanan menuju Puncak. Letaknya di kawasan Agripark, Taman Kencana, Bogor. Nama pemiliknya Pak Bambang.

“Awalnya saya membuka kedai teh ini karena blog juga. Saya bercerita tentang teh di sana, dan banyak orang yang suka. Jadilah kemudian saya berkenalan dengan kawan-kawan pecinta teh lainnya, dan mendirikan kedai teh ini, kecil-kecil saja,” ujar Pak Bambang sambil menyeduhkan teh untuk kami.

Oh ya, apakah kamu tahu mengenai ‘Jayeng’? Jayeng adalah jabatan non-formal yang diberikan kepada pembuat teh untuk warga. Di setiap hajatan, Jayeng akan menyiapkan puluhan gelas teh untuk para tamu. Mulai dari merebus air, menyeduh teh, menuangkannya ke dalam gelas, memberi gula, dan mengaduknya satu per satu. Jayeng menjadi semacam profesi yang memadukan tradisi, pengabdian, kesungguhan, dan kecintaan akan teh. Ada banyak lagi kisah-kisah menarik seputar teh yang bisa kamu temukan lewat halaman-halaman blog Pak Bambang, atau lewat percakapan santai dengan beliau di Lare Solo.

Dari dapur kecil ini, berbagai macam teh diseduh dan dihidangkan. Ada empat macam teh yang kami coba hari itu: teh tarik, mango sencha, fragrance of love, dan racikan teh peppermint dari Pak Bambang. “Cukup banyak varian teh, bunga-bungaan, dan bahkan peppermint ini masih impor,” Pak Bambang menjelaskan. “Tanah dan cuaca sangat mempengaruhi rasa, jadi walaupun satu varian teh atau bunga-bungaan bisa ditanam di Indonesia, rasa dan aromanya entah mengapa tidak bisa ‘pas’. Misalnya untuk peppermint ini, saya sudah coba daun mint dari berbagai daerah di Indonesia, tetapi rasa dan aromanya kok beda.”

Menghirup aroma dari bungkusan demi bungkusan teh yang disodorkan Pak Bambang ternyata begitu mengasyikkan. Wangi ‘rumput laut’ yang tercium pada berbagai bungkusan teh hijau pun membuat saya ingin membawanya pulang dan meletakkannya di samping tempat tidur.

Untuk 1 teh tarik dan 3 poci teh yang kami pesan, ditambah dua porsi risoles keju dan daging asap, percaya atau tidak—kami hanya membayar 40ribu rupiah. Surga yang luar biasa bagi para pecinta teh, terutama bagi mereka yang terbiasa membayar 40ribu rupiah hanya untuk sepoci teh di Jakarta. Belum lagi percakapan dengan Pak Bambang, yang nilainya melebihi nominal tersebut. Mulai dari mengenal berbagai jenis teh, upacara minum teh di Jepang, racikan-racikan teh yang pernah dibuat, sampai perjalanan beliau mendirikan kedai teh mungil ini, semuanya menjadi teman minum teh yang sangat menyenangkan.

Suatu hari, saya akan mengajakmu ke sini dan memperkenalkanmu dengan sesuatu yang bukan kebetulan itu. Sepoci Fragrance of Love. Diminum hangat-hangat. Kalau kamu bertanya seperti apa rasanya? Aku akan menjawab bahwa rasanya…

seperti kita.

Care for a cup of tea and me? ;)

Marchtography.

Short trips. Lovely weekends. Books. Paintings. Sketches. Taking pictures. Shopping for shoes and blazers. Cute things. Adorable moments. Winter days. Friends. Great laughs. You. March.

liturgi | liturgy

~ liturgi ~

suatu senja, ada upacara kecil pecah di atas mejaku. upacara-upacara sepatutnya sunyi. seperti doa-doa yang ditasbihkan dalam hati. kata-kata merinai di jendela. aku teringat akan candi-candi. perayaan tanpa suara. mantra-mantra yang mengalun diam di antara nyala ribuan lilin. mengingatkanku pada masa-masa yang jauh. sesuatu yang nyaris purba. orang-orang yang menengadah ke langit. merunduk ke bumi. lalu berdoa. karena mereka ingin. karena mereka ingat. upacara di mejaku adalah serupa pengingat tentang dirimu. juga untuk aku yang menginginkan kamu. namamu berjatuhan di atas kepalaku. ribuan keheningan. seperti doa-doa yang sampai ke tujuan. demi kemudian-kemudian dan kemungkinan-kemungkinan di masa yang akan datang, mataku terpejam. bibirku terkatup. hatiku terbuka.

~ liturgy ~

one evening, a small ceremony takes place on my desk. ceremonies are supposed to be still. like prayers, recited at heart. words are pouring down the window. my mind goes to the temples. soundless celebrations. silent chants, flowing among thousands of candlelights. reminding me of faraway moments. something that is almost ancient. people who look up to the sky. bow down to the earth. then pray. because they want to. because they remember. the ceremony on my desk is a kind of commemoration for you. and for myself, who longs for you. your name is falling on my head. thousands of quietudes. like prayers arriving at their destinations. in the name of upcomings and possibilities in the future, my eyes are closed. my lips are sealed. my heart is unlocked.

Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.

I’m back.

Sketchbook, brushes and watercolors. A tiny collection, a very minimum supply. But I’m enjoying my time (a surplus of anything won’t guarantee your happiness), making a mess in my room. During weekends, the windows are wide open. The sunlight is pouring in. On weekdays, arriving at home late at night, I’m embracing the light bulbs and the sound of the cicadas. Sitting in front of my dressing table, I’m coloring some of the drawings I’ve made the previous days, while waiting for my hair to dry. The sweet smell of the shampoo is wafting over my head.

I take the luxury of ordering beautiful illustration books, which are so darn expensive. But I am saving my money to get these books onto my working desk, with the same amount of determination that may be possessed by a woman who has been craving for a pair of branded shoes for years. Books, of any kind, have always become my most valuable possessions. Especially when the books are beautifully illustrated!

Lately, sketchbooks and journals of artists and painters draw me in. It’s like peeking into their creative minds and nibbling at it (hmm, sounds zombie-ish, but no, it’s actually ‘nibbling’ in a rather cute way!)

Thus, I’m back with my sketchbook, brushes, and watercolors. Something I’ve given up hope for long ago. But now it feels exciting and dear to me again, all of a sudden. Travel journal catches my heart as it captures three things that I’m so in love with: traveling, writing, and drawing.

So, I’m starting to paint Hong Kong while preparing myself to paint my future journeys.

Painting is just another way of keeping a diary | Pablo Picasso

Wish You Were Here.

The Jakarta sky was shining above my head. It was 2 pm, a Sunday, some time in late December. The weather was hot and humid, as always. I stepped into the outdoors with my shirt, short pants, and flip-flops. I instantly fell in love with the potted plants and frangipanis. The unlit candles, floating silently on top of coconut oil inside transparent glasses. The wooden floor. And the rooftop pool overlooking the city’s tall buildings. I dipped my toes in there. The cold water felt calming, relaxing, and… a bit jellyish, like the feeling you got when you dipped your hands into a bowl full of marshmallows. Therapeutic in a way, that soothing kind of vibe that enveloped you every time you’re thinking of those lovely memories you’ve shared with someone so dear to your heart.

This morning, I stumbled upon a beautiful song called Wish You Were Here by Blackmore’s Night, posted by a friend. It brought back all the sweet thoughts I had that day, one Sunday afternoon, when I was dipping my toes in the cold water, secretly thinking about you and wondering how perfect it would be if you were here with me. To my surprise, I found more songs with the title Wish You Were Here, and they are all so bewitching, I couldn’t help but share it here. From the sweetest tones to the rockin’ style, old and new, upbeat and classic, you’ll be amazed by these:

1. Wish You Were Here by Blackmore’s Night

2. Wish You Were Here by Endah & Rhesa

3. Wish You Were Here by Avril Lavigne

4. Wish You Were Here by The Sounds

5. Wish You Were Here by Ryan Adams

6. Wish You Were Here by Incubus

7. Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd

8. Wish You Were Here – Bliss [Buddha Bar version]

9. Wish You Were Here – Mark Wills

10. Wish You Were Here – Eddie Fisher

11. Wish You Were Here by Fleetwood Mac

12. Wish You Were Here by Stefani Germanotta


[And these are for you. One song for each passing month. Wish you were here.]

Hong Kong in Black & White

I always love Hong Kong—either for strolling around, shopping, writing and sketching, taking pictures, or simply lazying in an open-air coffee shop, reading a good book—the city never fails me. The people, the weather, the smell of seafood grilled over charcoal, the bustling sound of the crossings, the tramways, the light bulbs… somehow all feels magical and romantic. The city represents everything that’s new and everything that’s old: like the past, present and future, merged into one. It’s also for these reasons Hong Kong came up to be a city with great significance in my book #28Days. This is how Hong Kong looks like from the eyes of the girl character in the book:

The place I like best in the world is beside you.

Setiap kali ingatan tentangnya berlompatan dalam benakmu, kamu ingin meraih buku sketsa yang diberikan kawan baikmu itu. Isi kepalamu tumpah ke atas kertas dalam berbagai bentuk, tekstur, dan warna. Kata-kata yang berpusar di sekelilingnya: rahasia. Kamu berharap suatu hari nanti kamu bisa menggambar seperti Anna Laitinen, atau Oliver Jeffers. Tetapi sementara ini kamu sudah cukup berpuas diri dengan sebatang pensil arang, tiga macam kuas, dan cat air delapan warna dari sebuah supermarket Jepang.

“The place I like best in the world is beside you.”

Kamu selalu jatuh cinta pada goresan pensil di atas kertas. Kamu berharap ia juga. Temanmu bertanya apa yang kamu lihat dalam dirinya. Kamu bilang kamu suka karena ia selalu bersentuhan dengan dunia. Ia melihat; bukannya menutup mata. Kata temanmu, apa pentingnya bersentuhan dengan dunia. Kamu bilang kamu ingin bersama seseorang yang impiannya menyentuh bintang-bintang, namun kakinya tetap menjejak tanah.

Apa pentingnya menjejak tanah, temanmu kembali bertanya.

Agar kamu mengerti, jawabmu. Ada perbedaan yang besar antara tidak tahu dan tidak mau tahu. Menjejak tanah akan membuatmu merasa lebih rendah hati. Dari para petugas berseragam yang naik-turun seharian dalam lift transparan di sebuah pusat perbelanjaan, selamanya bertanya: “Lantai berapa?” sampai petugas kebersihan di toilet klub malam yang harus menunggui perempuan-perempuan cantik yang terlalu mabuk untuk menyiram bekas-bekas muntahan dari dudukan kloset. Atau petugas pengantar makanan cepat saji yang menembus kemacetan Jakarta dengan motornya di tengah badai, untuk meletakkan sepiring makanan hangat di kubikelmu yang kering dan nyaman.

Kamu menyukainya karena ia juga melihat hal-hal yang dilewatkan banyak orang. Kamu bisa berbincang dengannya tentang nelayan-nelayan di Gaza yang diserang tentara Israel ketika mencoba pergi melaut, juga tentang pencari suaka asal Afghanistan yang disiksa hingga tewas di Pontianak oleh petugas imigrasi. Kamu juga tahu kalian akan selalu bisa berbincang tentang secangkir kopi, buku-buku puisi, lukisan abstrak, film-film festival, juga perjalanan untuk menandai peta ke tempat-tempat yang belum pernah kalian datangi sebelumnya.

Demikianlah. Maka kamu telah menahbiskan rasa sukamu atas dirinya.

____________________________________

:: Jakarta, dari balik jendela. Suatu sore setelah hujan reda.

The Door.

I left my broken heart
somewhere under the sky
You stepped on it
accidentally
carried it home,
crushed
under the sole of your shoes
left it on the entrance rugs

Getting soaked under the rain,
the sun,
cat piss,
and poppy seeds

My broken heart’s been knocking
on your door
since then

 Let me in.

———–

:: Vietopia, March 5, 2012. Cloudy with a little bit of sunshine | Image is taken from here.

The Art of Looking Sideways.

I thought I had forgotten. But it all came back again.
Tonight with the first spring thunder. In a rush of rain.
— Sara Teasdale, Spring Rain

#1.

Kau sudah nyaris melupakan sesuatu yang tercecer dalam sebuah perjalanan. Kau nyaris percaya bahwa kau sudah sungguh-sungguh kehilangan. Tentu saja, kau merasa sedih—tetapi kau melepaskannya pada semesta, membiarkan segala sesuatu berjalan apa adanya. Karena bukankah segala sesuatu akan jatuh tepat pada tempatnya, ketika waktunya tiba?

Lalu kemarin semesta mengantarkannya ke hadapanmu: sesuatu yang sempat tercecer dalam sebuah perjalanan, tetapi tidak pernah hilang. Sesungguhnya ia hanya menunggu waktu yang tepat untuk kembali padamu.

#2.

Ya, tepat dua ratus tiga puluh hari, atau tiga puluh dua minggu, atau lima ribu lima ratus dua puluh jam, atau tiga ratus tiga puluh satu ribu dua ratus menit, atau sembilan belas juta delapan ratus tujuh puluh dua ribu detik kemudian, semesta mengantarkannya ke hadapanmu, begitu saja. Dia, yang kau kira telah hilang tercecer dalam sebuah perjalanan. Yang kau pikir takkan pernah bisa kau lihat lagi seumur hidupmu.

Kau terkejut ketika membuka pintu malam itu, dan menemukannya berdiri di hadapanmu. Kau pun bertanya mengapa tiba-tiba saja dia berada di situ.

“Aku sudah selalu berada di sini sejak semula,” katanya. “Tetapi baru malam ini, pintumu terbuka.”

#3.

Ia bilang, kau sudah menyimpan hatinya sejak dulu. Sejak pertama kali ia melihatmu. Kau tak tahu apakah ia bersungguh-sungguh; tetapi kau senang mendengarnya. Kau bertanya, mengapa kali pertama kalian bertemu itu, ia tidak mengajakmu keluar untuk minum kopi. Ia bilang, ia pikir kau tidak tertarik. Karenanya, ada jeda waktu sedemikian lama hingga ia kemudian memberanikan diri dengan mencoba menghubungimu lagi.

Ia tak tahu bahwa selama ini, ia juga sering melintas dalam benakmu.

Lalu, kau menyadari satu hal. Di dunia ini, pastilah ada begitu banyak orang yang kehilangan kesempatan untuk jatuh cinta (atau sekadar ngobrol-ngobrol sambil menyesap secangkir kopi) hanya karena terlalu lekas hanyut dalam pemikiran-pemikiran dan prasangka-prasangka mereka sendiri.

#4.

Kau meninggalkan pintu dalam keadaan terbuka. Orang-orang bilang kau ceroboh, tetapi kau tahu sebaliknya: kau justru sangat berhati-hati. Kau sudah sering terluka. Kau sedang tak ingin terikat pada apapun, pada siapapun. Dia bisa tetap tinggal jika dia ingin, tetapi kau tidak akan menjanjikan apa-apa. Dia bisa pergi jika dia ragu, dan kau tak akan kehilangan apa-apa.

#5.

Kau adalah cermin baginya, dia adalah cermin bagimu. Di dalam dirinya, kau melihat dirimu. Kau bertanya, jika kau adalah cermin baginya, dan ia berdiri di hadapanmu, refleksi macam apa yang akan dilihatnya dalam dirimu?

Ia tidak menjawab.

Tetapi kau pun tak memerlukan jawaban atas pertanyaanmu itu.

#6.

Kau meletakkan namanya di atas lidahmu, menggulungnya dalam sesesap kopi hangat. Lalu kau memainkannya berulang-ulang, mengucapkannya tanpa rasa bosan hingga nama-nama itu melebur dengan detak jantungmu. Kau merasa seperti seseorang yang tengah bertasbih atau berdoa rosario. Sepanjang hari, namanya masih selalu meninggalkan aroma mint dalam rongga mulutmu dan hangat cengkeh di tepian bibirmu.

#7.

Kau melingkari namanya dengan pucuk-pucuk teh. Carnation. Menyeduhnya dengan air mendidih. Kau membiarkannya mendingin di dekat jendela. Jendela tempat kau sering memandangi hujan itu. Ketika wangi teh meruap di udara dan membuat jendela berembun, kau menyesapnya dengan khidmat. Carnation. Aromanya yang kuat akan menghilangkan after-taste mint dan cengkeh yang ditinggalkannya padamu. Kau ingin membasuh dirimu hingga luruh.

#8.

Kau melihatnya sebagai kawan dalam sebuah perjalanan. Kalian memang tak berjalan beriringan, tetapi kau selalu membayangkan sebuah dunia paralel dalam benakmu. Ada kau di sisi sini, ia di sisi sana, dan seperti adegan dalam sebuah film, kalian sesungguhnya tengah berjalan dalam sebuah lingkaran. Tak berawal. Tak berakhir.

Ketika kalian menengadah ke langit malam dan melihat bintang, kalian tengah melihat ke dalam jiwa satu sama lain.

#9.

Pagi ini, kau ingin mengantarkan kata-kata ke depan pintu rumahnya. Kau ingin menjejali kotak posnya dengan huruf-huruf yang akan beterbangan keluar ketika tutupnya dibuka. Kau ingin memenuhi kamarnya dengan aksara-aksara dalam berbagai bentuk dan warna. Lalu diam-diam kau melumatkan beberapa kalimat ke atas bibirnya: sebuah doa. Agar kalian bahagia, berdua; ataupun sendiri-sendiri.

——————————————

*) The Art of Looking Sideways is the title of designer Alan Fletcher’s book that was posted by my friend, Astrid Schwarz. The picture is modified from here.

Minggu Pagi.

Pada hujan dan lagu-lagu yang berputar dari iPod-ku, juga kilasan tentangmu di balik pelupuk mata yang terpejam: kamu adalah jawaban dari doa-doa yang bahkan belum menyelinap keluar dari perantaraan bibirku.

The journey is my destination. Pada sekian perjalanan yang sudah, akan, dan tidak pernah usai, sesungguhnya setiap perjalanan menujumu adalah perjalanan untuk mengenal diriku.

Umbrella

Darling, there’s one thing I’d like you to know, and I am going to say this once. Only once. Why? Simply because I don’t believe in repetitions. Repetitions are dull, boring, and unnecessary. Thus, I am going to say this once. Yes, only once.

My dear, I have been so used to be an umbrella.

You want an umbrella only when it’s raining hard or when it’s blazing hot. When the weather is perfect, you’ll only see an umbrella as a burden; something that will only add extra weights to your backpack or a pointless hassle since you have to make sure that you hadn’t left it on a park-bench somewhere. It may seem that the slightly unfair fact about this situation is such that you can choose whether you’d like to carry an umbrella around or not; but the umbrella can’t choose to be anything else but itself: an umbrella, that will shelter you when you need it.

However, sometimes people missed this tiny bit of something so essential: the umbrella can shelter you only if you have one ready near you, or if you have stored one inside your bag this whole time.

My love, I have been an umbrella all my life, and I have learned a lot about being one. I have learned not to hate myself (like I used to) for being an umbrella, but to embrace this role as something sacred. Something precious. I am now carrying this role with serenity, knowing that being an umbrella is not something hopeless. The truth is that I’m here for a cause. I am supposed to be here, at this particular phase of my life, for you. And everything will take care of itself when the time comes.

However, my darling, I can’t be ready to shelter you all the time if you don’t carry me with you all the time. One day, when it rains so darn hard and you’re about to take me out from your bag, you’ll remember that you have left me on a bench at a train station somewhere when the weather was perfect. Will you regret your carelessness by then? Maybe. Maybe not. Came to think about it, you can always get yourself a new umbrella. But… hey, the rain is pouring now, my dear! It’s pouring even harder and harder, and by the time you get a new umbrella you’re already soaking wet.

Life is fair in many ways, dear, even for an umbrella that cannot choose to be anything but itself: an umbrella. At times, things may seem difficult to comprehend, but I just want you to know all this, my love, and I will only say this once. Because I don’t believe in repetitions. Repetitions are dull, boring, and unnecessary.

Don’t you think?

Kuala Lumpur’s Keepsake.

These past few days have turned to be the most wonderful days in my life ever; a series of non-stop uber-sweet moments full of loving surprises. I feel so blessed; and so loved.

The Reunion

I landed in Kuala Lumpur last Saturday and had a reunion with some good friends. It was a lovely one; as we had the chance to just chill out while sharing stories about our lives—something that we missed in several other journeys we’ve shared before. The moment reminded me (again), to embrace the opportunity to connect.

We’ll never know how much time is left, whether we’ll see the person we’re with at the moment ever again; thus, don’t waste your time to hold things back. Say the things you’d like to say, do the things you’d like to do, like what my best friend once said, “It’s better to live your life in whatever than in what-ifs.”

Malaysia Social Media Week 2012

On Monday, I was speaking at an awesome event, Malaysia’s Social Media Week 2012 at PWTC, sharing the panel on brand and storytelling with Dave Duarte, the Managing Director of Ogilvy South Africa (Dave, you’re the coolest and the best moderator, ever!), Ryan Hayward, the Asia Pacific Product Marketing Manager of Google+, and Willy Lim, the co-founder of NetProfitQuest.

That day, I shared about how the principles used in fairy tales can actually be adopted by brands/companies/organizations in designing their social media activities. Came to think about it, we all love fairy tales, right? It sticks with us until the longest time: the story, the names of the characters, the setting, the illustrations… dissecting fairy tales and learning about each elements inside it can actually help us (well, me) in designing a social media activity that—just like fairy tales, will stick. Something beautiful, simple, and memorable. Something you’d find entertaining to be retold, to be shared…

OK, enough, I’ll write more about this at the Raconteur‘s blog in a few days. At the moment, I’d just like to say thank you, thank you so much, for all the participants of Malaysia’s Social Media Week conference who came to me after the talk; especially those who told me that they have found the inspiration they need in the fairy tale analogy I shared, and gave me some big hugs! It felt awesome! I truly appreciated your appreciation and enthusiasm. I was humbled. Oh, and thank you to the MC, Terence, who was being so sweet in nicknaming me Fairytale Princess :”)

Valentine’s Day

More sweet surprises came over me on Valentine’s Day: from the lovely pink rose and fun karaoke session to Valentine dinner + movies with friends (that was full of laughter!) and some sugary-sweet gift-exchange moments with best friends: I got a dress and a cute owl necklace! *hoot*

Strings

The magnificent closing of these amazing days happened on Wednesday morning, as I reached Jakarta from Kuala Lumpur. My lovely friend, Sundus Rasheed, who worked in CityFM89 radio in Karachi, called me up to get me on-air, live, with Strings—a Pakistani rock band that I love! ^^

Hosted by the ever-friendly Khalid Malik (Khalid, yaar, we’ve never met before, but I owe you one!), I got the chance not only to talk to Bilal Maqsood (guitarist) and Faisal Kapadia (vocalist), but also, being the nicest person ever, Bilal generously offered an opportunity to do an on-air duet with me, to sing one of their most popular song, Mera Bichra Yaar (A Long Lost Friend)! :’O It was the sweetest moment I’ve experienced in my life, ever! *crying* And this is the snapshots of Khalid (the DJ), Bilal and Faisal inside the radio station, when Bilal and I were singing together, via phone :’)

So, today, I can only say thank you—and really, THANK YOU, for those of you who have made my day (and you know exactly who you are). I love you, and I’m so blessed to know you all :’)

- one morning in Jakarta, with a cup of hot coffee and some loving memories -

The gift.

A DANCER.

A dancer discovers music everywhere. He knows that life in itself is an orchestra of nature’s instruments, a collection of universe’s melodies. He sees everything around him moving rhythmically, as if all things have their own cadence.

An artwork of Rubi Roth.

A dancer knows that this is how life works: it works in a flowing motion. Like a trained dancer, his very own reflex is to feel the beat, follow the melody and move along with the rhythm. He doesn’t fight the music, but drowns himself in it instead, savoring every note with style, as if it were the last few notes on earth. He flutters around with the music of life pulsating in his veins: the excitement, the joy, the energy: the giving away of every inches of muscles, every beads of sweat, every particles of mind.

A dancer understands perfectly that the key of everything lies in harmony, balance, and a splash of spontaneity. He knows that life is the magical tunes he had been carrying in his heart since the day he was born, and as always, he will only need to follow the tempo, surrender to the sensation and dance it away.

A SKY-GAZER.

A sky-gazer knows that looking out into space is like looking back in time. On a starry night, he’s the one who will be touched by the romantic melancholy of how the stars could have actually died a very long time ago, way before its light reached his very eyes.

An artwork of Chris Carter

A sky-gazer, thus, appreciates how his past defines the way he sees the world as he sees it now. He understands the beauty of embracing what’s gone, not to be replaced by something else (because he believes that the things of the past are irreplaceable), but to be carried inside his heart: a keepsake as he walks his way to the future. At times, it serves as a reminder—to live life to the fullest, to not holding back too much; and at other times as a blanket—to keep him warm with loving memories or to snuggle inside when things become ugly.

A sky-gazer knows that looking at the future is like gazing at the night sky. Deep down inside, we’re actually looking back in time to who we were and who we used to be. A sky-gazer receives this knowledge like something that has been written in his DNA: that life always flows to the future carrying everything from the past along, and nothing is left behind.

A LOVER.

A lover loves and nothing else matters. He knows that love isn’t pink; it can be black or white or maroon and other time bluish purple. He accepts the fact that love draws tears as much as it draws laughter, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that roses have thorns, and that thorns have roses. A lover realizes the perfection that lies behind tiny imperfections, the flickers of words beneath those shy-looking eyelashes, the thirst of grape-flavored kisses inside empty wine glasses, the yearning of togetherness beyond every goodbye clenches.

An artwork of Laura Trevey

A lover falls for the beauty of an unmade bed and stains of paints on a white fence, the solitude of a buzzing traffic jam and cries of seagulls above the sand, the charm of getting soaked under the rain and playing catch under the blazing sun, the fondness of plunging into a quarrel and feeling the pain of a mistake unrepaired. A lover appreciates sadness as a way to alleviate the beloved’s tears, and embraces happiness as a reason to shower the beloved with marshmallow-tempered caresses and sweet-sugary sentences.

A lover knows that he has no other thirst but to love—even when he realizes that the thirst will never get quenched.

A lover loves and nothing else matters.

———————————–

*) a gift for a dancer, a sky-gazer, a lover, and a very dear friend. Kuala Lumpur, February 2012.

Circles.

Pertemuan denganmu itu adalah salah satu dari serangkaian kebetulan yang berjatuhan di atas diri saya beberapa waktu belakangan ini. Dan saya tidak bisa mengeluh. Semuanya adalah rangkaian kebetulan yang menyenangkan. Yang bertahan sebentar-sebentar tetapi meninggalkan kesan yang bisa membuat saya tersenyum-senyum sendiri selama berbulan-bulan kemudian. Yang membuat saya masih saja terheran-heran karena semua yang ada dalam imajinasi saya tiba-tiba menjelma jadi kenyataan.

Dan kita bukannya terlambat. Saya rasa, selama ini, kita selalu bertemu pada saat yang tepat. Ada saat-saat ketika kamu belum siap, ada saat-saat ketika saya belum siap, tetapi pada waktunya kita selalu berpapasan di tengah jalan. Menyusurinya bersama-sama tanpa perlu berjalan beriringan. Bukankah kamu yang pernah bilang bahwa segala sesuatu akan jatuh tepat pada tempatnya jika waktunya tiba?

Bertemu denganmu lagi menjadi sesuatu yang istimewa, karena saya merasa bahwa sekarang saya bisa bercerita padamu tentang apa saja. Pada akhirnya saya menemukan kamu yang bisa membuat saya merasa nyaman menjadi diri saya sendiri dan mengoceh dengan bodohnya mengenai berbagai hal yang bahkan membuat kamu terkaget-kaget setelahnya. Sesuatu yang tak pernah bisa saya lakukan sebelumnya, ketika saya masih berpegangan padamu erat-erat.

Bukankah ini seperti satu lingkaran sempurna? Hidup mengulang dirinya lagi, dan lagi, dan lagi, dan kemudian kamu tertawa begitu kamu sudah mengerti dengan jelas pola macam apa yang ditinggalkannya. Pada akhirnya, kamu paham.

Dan begitulah. Saya menemukan bahwa ada banyak hal yang ditawarkan hidup ke hadapan saya begitu saja, secara tiba-tiba, ketika saya bahkan tidak meminta atau mengharapkannya. Kemudian saya mengerti. Semua doa-doa saya, bahkan doa-doa yang sudah begitu lama tertumpuk berdebu dalam buku-buku harian saya, ternyata selalu didengarkan Tuhan. Hanya saja, jawaban dari semua doa-doa itu baru diantarkan ke hadapan saya beberapa waktu belakangan ini. Dan semuanya dikabulkan sekaligus. Beriringan. Berselang setiap beberapa hari sekali. Membuat saya ingin menangis dan tertawa sekaligus.

Mungkin selama ini, Tuhan hanya menunggu waktu yang tepat. Waktu ketika saya sudah benar-benar siap. Tidak ada yang terlambat. Doa-doa saya dikabulkan tepat ketika saya sudah belajar melepaskan.

Blue Point.

Not a single day pass without the thoughts of you.
A scenery of beauty is everything you say or do.

Run to the shores—and find me when things got blue.
But bear with me, and my chattery ways of loving, too.

I see the world through you and everything seems new.
Give your dreams a chance, you said, and they will come true.

- Menjelang senja di Blue Point, Uluwatu -

Ambon, Molucca Archipelago

Indeed, the eastern part of Indonesia is breathtakingly beautiful! I have always wanted to visit the faraway Molucca Archipelago—well-known for its wonderful beaches and magical underwater views; one of the best site for diving in the world, according to my diver friends.

And I was lucky for being able to set foot there!

From the city center of Ambon or from the Pattimura Airport, it took only 30-45 minutes by car to reach this magical Natsepa Beach.

After paying an entrance fee of IDR 2,000 (or around US$ 0.2), you can enjoy the stretch of white sand and the seductive view of the faraway hills. The sea is calm and the water is clean, very ideal for bathing and swimming. Trees are growing along the beach, perfect for a shelter from the sun!

Ambon had suffered from ethno-religious clashes—the worst took place in 1999 (until recently, some countries are still issuing travel warnings for their citizens who’d like to travel to this part of Indonesia). Since then, several parties have been trying to shake the city’s peacefulness. However, the youths in Ambon won’t let it happen. Consisting of youths from different social classes, religions and backgrounds, they are trying to promote tolerance and respect through a peaceful movement, Badati Ambon.

When you’re visiting Natsepa Beach in Ambon, you have to try the famous Rujak Natsepa. There are tents along the front of the beach, with local women behind a stack of fresh fruits, selling traditional fruit salad called ‘rujak’–a suitable treat after a sunny day at the beach.

Rujak Natsepa is made of a mixture of tropical fruits: pineapple, mango, starfruit, papaya, rose apple (water guava), bangkuang (jicama/mexican turnip), and cucumber. These sliced fruits are then mixed with a paste of peanuts and brown sugar; you can choose whether you’d like to add some chili into it or not. For a plate of fresh and fruity Rujak Natsepa, you need to pay around IDR 10,000 or US$ 1.

And sipping fresh coconut afterwards? :)

Early in the morning, you can also walk around the traditional street-market and find fresh vegetables/spices, as well as fresh/salted fish! Ambon is a heaven for seafood lovers! :)

Let’s go exploring more beautiful places in the eastern part of the country! (As for the travel warning, the only warning I’d like to give you is: you wouldn’t want to go home after this).

————–

*) special thanks to Almascatie and friends from Badati Ambon for the hospitality :)

Nada.

Dia adalah nada-nada dalam hidupku. Kadang kuat, kadang samar. Tapi pada setiap langkah yang tersesat, aku selalu bisa mendengar nada-nada itu, bahkan dengan mata terpejam. Seperti pasir yang basah, seperti ombak, air dingin yang merendam mata kakiku dan dermaga yang hangat; nada-nada itu menyelimutiku seperti matahari, lautan, dan lengkingan burung-burung pantai di musim panas.

- @beradadisini for Lelakiku -

Belakangan aku tahu, namamu berarti nada-nada, irama, musik. Begitulah aku akan mengingatmu.

Kamu seperti nada-nada yang diterbangkan angin dari tempat yang sangat jauh. Aku menangkap nada-nada itu ketika sunyi jatuh. Seperti sihir. Aku memejamkan mataku dan mereguk suara-suara yang mengelilingi kepalaku, melingkupi hatiku, merambati jari-jemariku. Seperti Freddie dalam adegan-adegan awal August Rush, aku mendengar musik pada setiap degup jantung, denting sendok dan piring, hela napas, angin, rintik hujan, dekuk burung hantu.

Ada sesuatu dalam nada-nada itu yang membuatku ringan. Aku tidak berjalan, aku melayang.

Kuikuti nada-nada itu (tidak mudah, karena terkadang nada-nada itu memelan dan menghilang ketika suara-suara lain menelan), lalu…

aku menemukanmu.

Tetapi kamu tidak sedang menyanyi. Kamu sedang berdoa. Sesungguhnya, kamu sedang memanggilku.

You are too sweet to be true.

Raat din gardish mein hai saat asmaan. Ho rahega kuch na kuch ghabrayen kya.
Day and night the planets are in motion. Something will work out, why worry ourselves.
- Ghalib -

A wanderer told me once:

You can’t fill a glass that’s already full of water to the brim with wine. The wine will just continue to spill out. You need to emptied the glass first. The emptier the glass, the more wine can be contained. The more wine can be contained, the more wine can be poured in. The more wine can be poured in, the more wine can be sipped. It’s actually quite similar to your heart. When it’s full of past memories or future expectations, it just can’t contain the present love that is coming your way. This new love will continue to spill out. You need to emptied your heart first, ensuring that you have let go of the past and stop worrying about the future. Let your heart be vacant for a while and give a chance for the present love to fill you in.

The wanderer is right. I emptied my heart last week, and you came like a downpour. You are too sweet to be true, and I find it hard to refrain myself from being addicted to you.

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