Count Our Blessings Or Curse Our Fate

Count Our Blessings Or Curse Our Fate?

How beautiful. a woman’s hair which strays from its comb, how sweet a flower which peeks over a neighbor’s fence. Clinton, the U.S. President, according to the American Press, has strayed from his vows during his marriage. This was the journalists’ Christmas and New Year’s present to Clinton that he will remember all his life.

Despite his marriage, his age, Clinton is still sensitive and not blind to the beauty and appeal of women. And it’s very possible that many beautiful women glance stealthily at him. Even if the U.S. President has never been unfaithful, at least he might have fantasized about having an affair.

Fortunately, he is just a human being, not a superman or a god. Because he is no saint, he knows his weaknesses and limitations well and acts as a human being. How could he understand others if he never faces trials or goes astray because of luring “forbidden apples”? Even a hermit could be tempted by a beautiful goddess.

A poet once wrote:
Since I saw her, I think I have been blinded.
For wherever I glance, I don’t see anything, but her.

Well, life would be gloomy, harsh and not humane at all if police officers, government officials, judges and artists were perfect men or robots.

Forbidding every man from straying is like cutting a branch which peeks over a neighbor’s fence. But cutting the branches doesn’t mean that they will not peek over the fence again. Human beings cannot be framed by the definitions of scholars. They cannot be confined by cultural walls, norms and rules.

It’s sad for President Clinton who is handsome and manly. If only his eagerness, ardor for women weren’t so large and could be limited by the “fences” set out by his wife as his American society requires. If he were a man born in King Solomon’s age, he could have had a hundred wives. Having a love-affair is protested by his community, let alone having ten wives.

We know that planet Earth is full of beautiful, charming and warm women. Have we to count our blessings or to curse our fate?

The Jakarta Post January 8, 1994,
From Jayakarta. Original Title, Bill Clinton And Women

December2010

The Greatest Wonder

Imagine a rose as though equipped with an invisible lab within, processing exquisite perfume, a certain green for its leaves and red or rose for its flowers while each part of the plant is alive. A rose never errs as to have an orchid for its flowers.

And that is so easily processed and in such a short time just out of dead earth, air, water and sunlight, which has no color, no perfume, no wood, no stem at all. This is the greatest wonder. Our foremost labs aren’t able to process and get the same results just out of earth, water, air and sunlight and never will. And what’s even more wonderful, unbelievable is, that a plant, - not just a rose - can propagate new life. An animal, man can procreate a new living individual in a similar subtle way.

Meat is produced in an invisible mini factory within the cow, just by feeding, providing her with grass, water, air, sunlight. Man isn’t able to produce meat in a lab or factory. It’s not man that produces meat and milk, and its bones and teeth and eyes and feet …, but the cow.

From Jayakarta, October 27, 1994

December 2010

The Battle Of Rudy And Gunalan

The Battle Of Rudy And Gunalan

There was a night of anxiety for Rudy’s family.
There was also a night of anxiety for Gunalan’s family.
There was a loving father’s, mother’s prayer for Rudy.
There also was a loving father’s, mother’s prayer for Gunalan.
There were our people awaiting Rudy.
There also were their people awaiting Gunalan.
There were frightful, dreadful almost killing moments for Rudy.
There were also frightful, dreadful almost killing moments for Gunalan.
There was a tear falling down for Rudy.
There was also a tear falling down for Gunalan.
So, hail to Rudy.
But also, hail to Gunalan.

For triumphant or defeated never lessens the heroic quality of a hero.


After the fiery battle, Gunalan in an interview said: ”I thought that I had the chance after winning the fist set with 15 – 8 and leading in the second with 7 – 1. But Hartono was as cool as ever. Before the match I said in fun, ‘Don’t you ever scare an old man’. I almost did the opposite. Yet, I am also very happy. I came to him and he said in the bahasa: ‘I’m just lucky’. Well don’t be mistaken about Rudy Hartono. He really is a champion. May he have an 8th time victory in All England in succession next year.” From Medeka.

Both knights saw, recognized their opponent’s magnificence, splendor as revealed in the fight and were amazed.

March 1974

December 2010

Int'l Gamelan Festival

Int’l Gamelan Festival

English Version by the Jakarta Post February 7, 1996

Watching western women in sarong kebaya and men in blangkon, (traditional dress) playing gamelan, (traditional “orchestra”) in the International Gamelan Festival at Prambanan temple in Yogyakarta recently on television, I felt myself transported to the future.

“Where is Indonesia?” asks a tourist.
I reply: This is Indonesia.”
“Is it? These are skyscrapers like in Tokyo. That is the Hollywood Inn, the Thousand And One Night Amusement Center. I eat sukiyaki, pizza, hotdogs, pears, apples, grapes. I drink Coke, root beer. I listen to disco music. Where are the rice fields, the tropical forests prided by Indonesia? This is certainly not Indonesia but another country.”

“It is true, I am not joking. The authentic Indonesia with its forests is extinct. Now it is westernized. The blond hair you see is just dyed. If you want to see the real Indonesia you must go to …” and I show him a dot on a map, close to the equator. “There you will find Indonesia in miniature where the original culture is respected and conserved.”

I wake up from my dream with a jolt. What if some day we have to learn our own culture from foreign experts, if the authentic Indonesian tropical forest is no longer but somewhere abroad.

Somebody says: “We have no self respect.”

The Jakarta Post February 7, 1996.

December 2010

Once A Year?

Once A Year?

What a pity. Would you observe to love, appreciate, be nice to, forgiving, honor, remember each other only once a year?

Look at our Mother day, Father day, Valentine day, Birthday, Heroes day, All Souls’ day, Pets day, International Peace day, New Year, Idul Fitri, Christmas, Easter, …

I can’t wait for these special days. I’d rather forget all these days and be good, kind, forgiving any day when I’d feel like it. So said she, si upik (call name of a young girl).

December 2010

Leisurely Reading

Leisurly Reading

Leisurely Reading is for old, yet still very young people. You're never too old to be young. So said a song.

December 2010

Delicious Foods, Heavenly Drinks

Delicious Foods, Heavenly Drinks

There is another way to very delicious eating and drinking, by far more delicious than what is served, offered in restaurants and eateries. I insist that the most delicious foods and freshest drinks can be the most ordinary, even bitter foods and drinks as well.*

Eating warm ketela (cassava), ubi (yam) or ground nuts roasted in the ashes of a campfire can be very delicious eating. Or one should walk or cycle leisurely in the evening and drop by somewhere to buy tahu pong (Soybean-cake) while hearing its gentle sizzle, the peaceful buzz of the burner and eat it warm from the frying pan. Or you should also buy roasted corn, watch the glowing cinders, breathe the appetizing roasted flavor, hear the lively spluttering and popping in the fire, then eat the corn slowly, sitting or squatting in the flickering surroundings of vendors, on the side walk.

Hear the lonely whistle of the kue putu vendor at night, eat the “rice-cake” warm on a leaf, or drink warm sekoteng (ginger-like drink). Perhaps you wouldn’t hear the kecapi (harp-like instrument) sounds today. Hearing its soft plucked strings, the sounds of chirping crickets, the hooting owl in the open air at night would be even a greater delight than listening stiffly in concert halls. Sitting at ease, eating or drinking at ease, accompanied by nature’s sounds, a fire-fly, undisturbed by debts, guests, appointments, glaring city-lights, beneath a starry sky, one would forget all the arts, philosophy and dinners.

Drink cool water from the kendi (earthen water vessel). Call the mbok pecel, the middle-aged woman -vendor, who carries a broad tray of cooked vegetables on her head like a sombrero. Eat pecel served on banana-leaf with your fingers sitting on the steps - never sit on chairs, unless you can nestle yourself comfortably by drawing your feet up on to the seat -, sit on the floor as children, kampong (village) and Japanese people do, or sit on the grass or perch on a boulder on the bank of a stream when you’re picnicking.

The nicest. freshest, strongest drink you could get at the roadside in the shade of a tree from a charming jamu vendor. She is as fresh as a mountain-breeze and carries her basket in a slendang (shawl) on her back, with bottles of bitter-sweet-hot drinks, serving her customer on her knees with a grace, no geisha or stewardess could ever rival.

An artist painted the most delicious food and coolest drink just as common folk-food served on a leaf and a cool squirted drink from the kendi (earthen vessel). It is served to a squatting man by a lovely Bali-woman sitting behind her low table as food-stand on the sidewalk.

Omar Khayam, the Persian poet, needed a loaf of bread and a jug of wine when his lover was with him. Though in a wilderness, he’d dine as in paradise.

Such are the delicacies that far surpass the most delicious, expensive foods and drinks offered in the most famous restaurants, the grandest feasts and I’d say even the banquets of kings.

Rich flavors of eating in the open air, the foretaste of watching, attending, breathing, hearing the food being prepared and cooked. Tastes of eating at leisure, ease and privacy, free from worries and sickness. There’s sweetness in sharing one’s food with a lover.

Subtle tastes, rich flavors, exquisite sweetness no cook, no appetizer or ingredient ever could add, turning the most ordinary foods and drinks into the most delicious foods and heavenly drinks.

They are within the purse of all and for anyone to enjoy. Yet, money can’t buy them, for each one of us would have to depend upon his, her own “recipe”.

The Jakarta Post, May 27, 1986

*Remember, this is Jakarta some 30 years ago.

December 2010

Eve In Our Time

Eve In Our Time

Does it make a difference
Between a promise of faithfulness
In our youth or before the altar
Or unspoken in a kiss?
For you, Adam, no difference.
You wouldn’t have broken it.
But what is your promise, your oath
Even before God to me?
Though you would always stay with me
But stop loving me.
Better free you of your vows
Yet, still love me
And sing and dream of me.
Though not forever,
Though not sanctified before God
Though others would “imprison” you
Or block your way to me.
Your ring, your promise, your vow, give it to others.
But that you’re mine, as long as you love me.

December 2010

Surpass The Most Delicious Food In The World

Surpass The Most Delicious Food In The World

“Do you know the most delicious food in the world, Arif?” asked Upi.

“Yes, certainly, I do. Food that’s served in the restaurant called: ‘Feeling Hungry’. Just some rice, sambal (concocted chili), tahu and tempe (fermented curd beans), fresh vegetables would make a divine dish. Drink water out of an earthen water vessel. perched on a boulder, accompanied by the sound of a rushing river, a cool breeze, eating at leisure, not disturbed by guests, debts, appointments, no tooth-ache and beside me … do you want to know who?

“No, it’s not you, Upi. You usually pinch, never kiss me. Yours’, … what’s yours’? ’Your kiss’” he whispered, “would surpass the most delicious food in the whole world. Ha, ha, ha!”

July 1996

December 2010

Say It With Flowers

Say It With Flowers
English Version of Katakan Dengan Bunga-Bunga, The Jakarta Post December 6, 1998

“Say it With Flowers” people say. Well, what do they mean by giving flowers to someone? Showing their love of course, so as not to embarrass or be embarrassed by saying “I Love You” openly to someone. Yet there are many subtle ways to show it.

One might say it with a song, with a winning smile, with a touch, with “speaking” eyes. When I was a youth, I remember girls humming, singing: “In je ogen staat geschreven wat je mond niet zeggen wou.”. (In your eyes is written what your mouth wouldn’t confess).

On the contrary, si Upik conspired with si Buyung by secretly inserting money into her mother’s purse. That’s her way of giving her mother flowers.

Pak Arif has another way of saying it. One day as he was going cross-country on his bike, his wife prepared his lunch-box. When she had finished, Pak Arif said, “thank you Molly” intentionally to his dog. On leaving, Pak Arif again said “Goodbye Molly. See you again soon”, without even looking at his wife who was standing by his side at the gate. When he’d gone some way, Pak Arif looked back and rather than wave his hand, held up his fist and broke into laughter. Well, that must make his wife “gemes” (crazy, mad about him).

One day when Pak Arif was going out again he returned.
“I forgot something”, he said.
“Well, what did you forget, you scoundrel?” his wife asked surprised.
“I forgot my kiss”, he grinned and hurried away after having kissed her.

Yeah, that’s his way of bringing flowers to his wife. He rather loves to tease, tickle her feelings. It’s nicer, sweeter, warmer and unexpected than saying an outright “thank you” or kissing each other or waving a goodbye as is the custom.

They neither honey-ed nor darling-ed each other. When his wife had finished his share of the chores, he feigned ignorance with “look, how nice our “bibi” (housemaid) is to do my work.”

Well, on Valentine’s day it was different. A kiss was stolen, for stolen, forbidden fruit taste sweeter, he said.

“I am not sorry, nor worried about being a woman. I am not losing my mind. Feigning a faint for instance, but I just aimed the hose at his face, he turned, I said, ‘sorry ya’. That’s how we became friends.”

A sweet souvenir from Valentine’s Day some 50 years ago. But don’t tell him this. His head might get inflated.” Pak Arif’s wife whispered to me in Bahasa Indonesia.

It doesn’t mean that there’s always peace. When they argue they don’t just quarrel, but there is warring, not mere warring with angry words, but warring a cold war. Once when peace was nearing their door, Pak Arif started the peace treaty, “Why does this rice taste bitter?” Then, his laughter which he had kept suppressed, straining all his efforts, broke out, as water gushing from a broken dam.

“Yes, as bitter and as black as your heart” his wife teased him in return.

Well, that’s Pak Arif’s kiss, or way of making peace.

“Ah, how sweet is peace after having quarreled so vehemently. I really thirst after another violent war, just to feel this peace once again.” Pak Arif whispered to me.

And I mused, peace is not realized by peace treaties. But when there’s no trace left of the dissensions. That’s peace.

December 2010

On An Exhibition

On An Exhibition

And there was a most wonderful, majestic, stately mountain surrounded by dark, heavy, angry clouds, a grand painting in the traditional Chinese style. But on the exhibition was also a little Chinese “picture”: perhaps a weed with a tiny single flower, so tender, so modest, so pure, so cherishing …

That was what the painter saw: unlimited in beauty, even in what is small, unnoticed, so common, an ordinary sight for our eyes. Just a few strokes of his brush were eloquent enough to render this.

1977

December 2010

Ade's Christmas Gift

Ade’s Christmas Gift

“I’m sorry, I can’t come singing this time. My leg awfully hurts.” Ade telephoned her choir master just an hour before the Christmas Eve service began. He was downhearted. She was his “locomotive” in his choir. Now they would sing without her, - try, make the best he can with the others.

Then during the warm up he was so happily surprised to see Ade hobbling coming in. “Thanks God” he said inwardly.

After the service the choir master said to her: “Thank you, We sang very well. That was your Christmas gift for me and us, I never would forget” as he imagined her pain climbing down the stairs and walking to the church with a hurting leg.

December 2004

December 2010

The Mote In His Brother's Eye, ...

The Mote In His Brother’s Eye, …

It was in 1998 and was eagerly discussed that anyone, - especially President Soeharto -, on the contrary should, could prove that his riches doesn’t come from illegal dealings KKN, (that is Corruption, Collusion, Nepotism).

I think of his salary which is so small in relation to his huge, vast responsibilities. Certainly a small salary is no excuse to commit KKN. The amount of what is corrupted, if it could be proved by the court, perhaps is not enough to pay him for what he has done, accomplished as long as 32 years for his country and his people.

Even more so as I think of what he has endured, suffered, of the people’s despising, blaming, cursing him, hate, … when many of his ministers left him, instead of aiding him during the crises. If his faith was not very strong, he certainly would mentally collapse. Yet he doesn’t try to escape to another country. Oh, if one could only know before, how bad, unthankful, how sad it is to be a president, who would like, wish to become one?

A lot had been published at the time of the economic, political crises, about mass unemployment, families hardly able to buy the most necessary foods, even more so the vagrants or pemulungs.

Yet, all the fuss about their sorry fate, state, it could be said that they’re still lucky as compared with the fate of one who suffered from a tumor in his mouth, stopped his mouth and covered one of his eyes with as big as a live coral-like tumor. Another suffered from elephant decease, elephantiasis and makes his thy as large and heavy as a heavy sack of rice as shown on TV. They couldn’t escape the deadly clutch of those deceases. A death sentence wouldn’t be more terrible, frightening.

When si upik saw this, she said: “Well, rather than fuss, read about the many unpleasant, ugly things, doings of others around us, better busy ourselves with opening a public purse to help to heal sufferers of such terrible deceases, better take home oleh-oleh (something nice brought home after a trip) duren Parung, hear Benjamin’s gay singing in Jakartan slang, see Miing’s humorous show on TV, hear CD’s see video’s, enjoy the full moon on a beach and a lot more.”

“Doesn’t reformation starts with correcting our own bad behavior, our mistakes, our greed first?” said Pak Arif. ”And on the contrary think of all the good of others, take, bring blessings, happiness to our neighbors, instead of harboring base thoughts, of blaming, slandering about their bad behavior, illegal dealings which aren’t yet proved.”

“Suppose we’re as rich, and powerful as Soeharto, wouldn’t we do the same as he does (KKN), as though we’re spotless, honest, superior to him? And would we have the honesty, courage to sue ourselves as we prosecute as ‘pitiless’ Soeharto with. It certainly is less risky for us to be prosecuted as we have no riches as vast as his.”

“If there is proof of his wrong doings, certainly take him before the court. Don’t be keen on pursuing other’s faults, weaknesses as though they’re mere evil and have nothing good at all and forget our own wrongdoings ourselves as the Dutch saying says, Hij ziet den splinter in zijns broeders oog, maar niet de balk in zijn eigens. He sees the mote in his brother’s eye and not the beam in his own.”

From Suara Karya, November 5, 1998

Comments some one:

Wow, 9 billon US dollars savings!! If counted one by one with a speed of a fourth of a second, then we need
9 billion times of a fourth of a second and calculated it would take us about 75 years counting, that is to say non-stop, 24 hours a day without sleep and other activities. If we counted 8 hours a day it would take the time till our grand, grand, grand children of the so many degree and that is without Sun- and Holidays.

If it were connected, each dollar with one another in a row (if there is, instead of a coin) and a banknote is about 20 Cm, in length, it would reach 9 billion times 20 Cm or nearing 2 million Km or a journey of 450 times around the world. If packed (and one packet of 100 banknotes is 1 Cm thick) and placed one upon the other, just calculate how many thousands of Km high it will reach, that is more than 10 Mount Everest high.

Another one comments:

Oh, it’s only 9 billion US Dollars that’s in question as published in a well known international magazine and moreover not yet proved to be so before the court. It can never buy one’s peace, health, happiness, love, isn’t it? Besides, if we compare it with the atrocities, million murders, crimes of war under the Hitler or Pol Pot regime so say those who know it. Well such huge crimes are well worth questioning.

December 2010

An Interview With Hoyer Larsen

An Interview With Hoyer Larsen

I dreamt I was in Atlanta and interviewed Hoyer Larsen, the Danish badminton champion who became a finalist in the Olympic Games.

“Suppose God asks you what you would like He should do for you in this final.”

“Choose your opponent you like,” God said. “Which. Rasyid, Joko, Alan, Arbi, Gunalan, Yang Yang, Han Jian?"

“I take Rudy Hartono” answered Larsen.

“Why Rudy?”

“Rudy is one of the greatest, one of the very best badminton players in the world. It is an honor to play against him. “

“I will help you and make the supporters side with you? said the Lord.

“I don’t care of supporter’s support."

”Do you want Rudy to lose in this match?” God said.

“I never prayed You for failures or bad luck of my adversaries, opponents, I never prayed You to give me the victory, although I would be very proud if I could win, defeat him, the best, strongest player in the world.”

“Well, What is your dearest wish, which I will grant you in this final?” God asked.

“I, Larsen don’t want to be backed up by supporters, the referee, linesmen. If I ever may wish – then, if it isn’t too insolent – wish, You don’t interfere, meddle with who shall be winning or losing this match. Hartono and I both want to be proud of winning, without any one, or God aiding in this match as far as we still have our self respect.”

From Suara Karya, 11 Juli 1996

December 2010

No Matter How Old You Are

No Matter How Old You Are

As a fruit, that’s green, hard, pungent before, turns mellow, fragrant, sweet, so, you, Christy, have grown into a lovely young woman, You got more smiles and don’t feel, act awkward as girls sometimes are, do. Then you still would grow more beautiful into a woman, warm, strong and wise.

No matter how old you are, as long as you’re capable of love you’ll be happy and never become an old woman. You would stay forever young. And it is similar for every woman, every man, you know? Stop loving except you want to be an old woman soon.

So wrote Opa Johan to his granddaughter


December 2010

Live Open-Air Concert

Live Open-Air Concert

In spite of annoying, roaring motor vehicles passing by, a very rare, exquisite, live open-air concert can be heard free every day at dawn.

It is staged by hundreds of singing crickets on the new grassy strip in Jl. Majapahit in the very heart of Jakarta. Choirs no less wonderful than Bach’s and refreshing as a mountain breeze. And seen through a frame of gate of a pair of trees, which look like giant sized Bonsai, grand and old with age, with perching, flitting birds, they have the Palace Park, the Monas Park and the glorious rising Sun as their wondrous background décor.

Indonesia Times, March 19, 1987

December 2010

Adam And Eve

Adam And Eve

And Adam awoke
And in enchantment saw he Eve for the first time.

And Eve mirrored herself in his enraptured eyes
And for the first time saw her ravishing beauty.

And Adam had given her his souvenir.
And she had received it, his child.

December 2010

This Is Heaven

This Is Heaven

“This is Heaven, said father while tapping on his pocket” told mother then, hinting at a full purse and dreams of delicious foods, heavenly drinks, a Mercy, a mansion and perhaps, a lovely angel.

Yet, the more we possess of what is displayed, shown on TV, advertisements, billboards as heaven,- who isn’t attracted? – the more we become satiate.

I remember when on my birthday I received, was surrounded with chicken soup, beef-steak, barbecue, cakes, pudding, ice cream, grapes, …. My eyes said “this is Heaven” but my stomach said: “No, this is Hell.”

I certainly do appreciate my family’s gifts to me - God forgive me – but it’s better to share it with others. They will enjoy it and I will be free from the torture to eat all of them or see them thrown away as garbage.

I never troubled myself to find heaven, yet unexpected did I find it, not just once but many times, even though on an almost empty purse.

As I couldn’t afford to buy my children Peters or Campina ice cream, yet when my little daughter bought herself “es Nong-nong” (so sounds the vendor’s gong), just ice cream of thin coconut milk in a cone as small as her little thump, then spend all her riches of Rp 10.-, feeding me this ice which she held in her little fist licking it by turns, sitting secretly in a corner, till today almost 25 years ago I still remember the sweetness of enjoying that ice together.

Thus be wise to buy yourself a heaven. Taste doesn’t’ care about prices, the luxury of foods. Being hungry, happy, healthy would turn just a simple meal as some rice, “tempe” or fermented soy beans, “sambal” or concocted chili, “lalap” or fresh vegetables into a heavenly dinner. The opposite would turn the most delicious food into something of a bitter pill. Heaven is in a deep sleep and it doesn’t care about a straw-mat, a “bale-bale” or a wooden couch, a bed in a five-star hotel. Heaven is where our loved ones are.

From Media Indonesia, February 21, 1992

December 2010

If God Grants You Another Chance

If God Grants You Another Chance

“Suppose God asks you whether you would repeat this life if He grants you another chance. Are you sure that you could improve it and have a happier life?” asked Arif.

“Yes I would, rather than be your girl-friend. You are the most crazy, meddlesome, awful creature, in the world.” said Upi sweetly.

“I wouldn’t. What if you were reborn as si Mamat. What a disappointment, disillusion. How fortunate that you (we all) will never have such a chance. I’m happy to be born as Adam.”

Then Arif whispered: “Aren’t you, happy that you were fated to be born as Eve?”

“Are you nosing about my business?” said Upi laughing.

July 1996

October 2010

When Life Was Tight

When Life Was Tight

Did you know it?

Yet, how sweet life was, when I, a married University student even though without work and living in tight circumstances.

To celebrate our honey moon, tandem riding, hitch-hiking on a truck, traveling by bus, a sado (two-wheeled horse-cart), staying for the night at country inns and in an old, somewhat scary “palace” for free, touring Bali.

Feeling comfortable in a small wooden food-stall waiting for the rain to stop at a village road-side, while eating on a plate just warm ketoprak (cheap cooked vegetable folk-food) together until the plate was very clean.

How cozy it was sleeping together with just a one person’s mosquito net.

Having no money while pressing money difficulties were in sight with the coming birth of our baby, what a god-send relief it was when I luckily got my first salary so direly needed.

To count all the money within closed doors and windows in our bed as an unexpected gift from heaven, a rich reward for the efforts, trouble of my woman to sell some-one’s jewelry as a go between.

To take home but some little money yet so precious, small earnings, by selling my woman’s self-made snacks was even sweeter than taking home my salary.

Milk isn’t drunk anymore, but spooned, enjoyed like ice cream.

Seeing our youngest daughter joyfully strewing her first honorarium as flowers falling, to her mother.

Seeing our eldest son so proud and happy to be able to buy an old motor-cycle with all his savings in his savings-box and the readiness of all the family-members to support, supply him with the shortage.

Well, I’m not feeling poor at all, why sigh, be sad, blame, hate life when it was hard, tight. When we were happy, sharing our gains, joys and happiness and bore to lessen, soften our burdens and suffering together.
.
Thus grandpa Johan related this to me.

From Harian Ekonomi Neraca, Januari 17, 1997

December 2010

Fit In Harmony Together

Fit In Harmony Together

A long shadow of a man and a woman in the moonlight is before me. How they fit together in harmony.

It is the shadow of myself and a woman, my woman. A man among men is no man, a woman among women is no woman, but …………….a dreary desert, dark night without stars.

December 1976

December 2010

Old Portrait Of T i e n

Old Portrait Of T i e n

Tien was a bit crazy, silly in the eyes of people. Just got Rp. 200.- (that was almost 50 years ago) as “Cinderella” for some days, of which Rp. 100.- was sacrificed to buy three apples and some oranges. Two apples and some oranges she gave wholeheartedly to her “colleagues”. She had no one who cares for her except Mother Nature.

She had no home but she always found a way to crawl somewhere in and had a lodging for the night. She worked so hard that she sometimes nodded to the merriment of her co-housemaids. Every time she awoke with a start. Yet, she had been a teacher before. But no one wanted her. The only one who wanted her, her “prince”, stole her money by borrowing and not return it.

Tien was as a weed, whom no one wanted. She’s “hell” a fury but also a blessing. She got poor, simple fare, but that cheap, worthless food was perhaps tastier and nutritious: The fish head, shrimps head, the chicken head and feet (ceker they say}, frogs spine, no coca cola’s, no white polished rice but brown rice. She slept on a bench without mattress and pillow, mosquito net, did rough, course work and without being pursued, these treatments had become a blessing in disguise.

She sleeps anywhere as sound as ever, has a keen appetite, is strong and healthy, has good teeth, though having no recourse to a dentist, forgets her worries almost immediately and harbors no hate, ill will. Those are her riches, her treasures.

Certainly, Mother Nature loves all her children. Every dark side has its sunny side.

December 2010

Bali And The World

Bali And The World

“If he has peace within him, Bali deepens it. If he has beauty within him, Bali enriches it. If he does not carry both within him, he will not recognize them here and he will go away unhappy, as he came.” (The Jakarta Post, April 29, 1986).

Well, I don’t want to be blessed with what is called peace and beauty, if they keep other people that haven’t, doomed from sharing in the happiness. I’d rather stay doomed to be unhappy with the people.

Having had my say to the “world”, I’ll be happy and regain my peace of mind.

The Jakarta Post May 12, 1986

December 2010

Funny Sights

Funny Sights

A father taking three children for a ride on a scooter, two sitting behind and one standing in front of him, isn’t an uncommon sight. Four passengers on a scooter. But when they even took along their “ugly” dog into the bargain, sitting – with eight legs – crammed on the narrow board of the old two wheeler through the bustling roads to share their fun and danger, it must have been an adventures ride, perhaps better than in a comfortable motorcar.

The other day I also saw a couple beneath a tree as I wandered through a park. They were foreigners. The young man was peeling a pine-apple. He worked at it conscientiously. At last he hardly had anything left except its tasteless “spine” to offer his sweetheart. Yet I guess that it must have tasted sweeter than had they had the fruit served well in the Hilton Hotel.

Here is an occasion for foreigners to learn from us, not from our professors, but from our fruit vendors.

The Jakarta Post December 31, 1986

December 2010

Unpardonable Blundering

Unpardonable Blundering

There was a picture of a beautiful necklace that won an international award at Milan, (J.P. March 29, 1986), but I’d vote for the lovely wearer. Seeing her dazzling eyes would be much more fascinating than a world-awarded necklace, the glittering fire in the biggest diamonds, the most precious stones and fire-works, as the radiant sun is to an electric bulb.

The jury should be fired for unpardonable blundering.

The Jakarta Post April 8, 1986

December 2010

The Torture Of Choosing

The Torture Of Choosing

To be compelled to take only one out of many of our favorite dishes on offer, to be forced to choose only one out of two or three of our favorite television programs broadcast at the same time. How can one enjoy what one has with the thought of missing out on all the other ones?

A mother would say: “It would be a cruel God that asked me to choose only one of my children to be saved or to choose only one to be sacrificed. How could I? All of them are of the very best. All my children must be saved, if it can’t be that way I’d rather die.”

How wretched to marry only one person when one has more than one Valentine. And I think of Bill Clinton. Why? Blame the Creator who made him, us that way. We are all capable of loving more than one person.

There’s no worse punishment to him and his faithful wife than for him to be forced to confess his very private affairs publicly before the whole world. And I must add, who can claim, pride himself to be without a stain and be a better man than he is? Most of us harbor secret thoughts and commit similar acts in the imagination where even Kenneth Starr wouldn’t be able to catch us.

Then I remember Pak Arif’s way of thinking. Every time I see a waringin (banyan tree), I remember he used to say, that tree is the best among trees. When I look at the sirih (betel vine), that plant is the most beautiful among plants. When I eat durian, that fruit is number one and jambu, nangka (jack fruit), mangosteen and rambutan … all of them. There’s no one fruit that’s number two since I so very much like them all.

“What if I were chosen to be a member of the jury at a beauty contest?” Pak Arif teased his wife.
“Well I suppose you would have to proclaim each one of them your queen.” She retorted, adding, “He certainly is very faithful, for I have never been able to catch him “wet”. Happily for him and his wife, since Pak Arif could never be considered jury material for a beauty contest.

We should be grateful that there’s not only one best in the world. Our Creator certainly didn’t make any mistakes or errors.

The elephant, the deer, the fox, the squirrel, the bat, just name any creature. Each one of them is of the very best, the most extraordinary creation. So is the melati, the kenanga blossoms, the lotus, the rose, the orchid and any other flower or blossom.

Bill Clinton, though in love with Hillary, couldn’t resist Monica Levinsky, and neither could she resist him. Choose your mother? Choose your father? “Take Monica. Ha, ha, ha.” Si Upik suggested.

Ah, how nice, how fine, how happy, when we are not trapped by being compelled and obliged too choose only one of the many we most like, cherish or love. To be freed of the torture of choosing, loving the best out of the very best. Men and women and creatures and things alike.
That’s what I remember Pak Arif told me.

Having One’s Cake And Eating It

The Jakarta Post, September 20, 1998

December 2010

The Vagrant’s Song

A vagrant singing, carrying his precious cartload, a sleeping girl:

With you beside me,

Living, sleeping in my cart;

Right there’s my palace, my paradise.

With you beside me,

The richest man seems poor to me.

The girl is mumbling in her sleep:

With you beside me,

Am I honored as a queen of queens.

With you beside me,

Hell doesn’t terrify me,

Nor do I wish to go to heaven

Save with you.

 

 

December 2010

Lovely Weeds

Lovely Weeds

Being a pedicab driver is as honorable as being a pilot, although he only pedals up and down the roads and doesn’t roam the skies as a pilot does. Besides, he keeps himself strong and healthy with daily exercise, is his own master and in a way a little entrepreneur and king. He gladly rides his nonpolluting vehicle, which is his pride, his treasure, his makeshift home and bed.

No profession or occupation is so low that it should be regarded as dishonorable, as it doesn’t cause one to become an “insect”.

Yet pedicab drivers, sidewalk vendors, scavengers of used good,…, have been regarded as weeds or as a disgrace, that put the image of the metropolitan city to shame. They have been weeded out, hunted off the roads.

Although weeds can become over abundant, in fact even the most innocent living things as birds, squirrels and butterflies can become a great harm, when they can multiply themselves unchecked. So does any inordinate increase, even of beneficial things such as motor vehicles, factories, skyscrapers, … But this can be said in honor of the weeds.

Weeds don’t need to be planted, don’t need any care and can thrive even in barren conditions with hardly any soil needed. They can keep themselves alive, - potted plants, can’t -, soften, freshen barren dusty sidewalks, decorate borders of ditches and waterways, cover, drape neglected walls and waste land with their lovely greenery.

Since they are uncared for, they might grow untidy like long unkempt hair or a jungle. But this could also be said of roses, water lilies or any other plant as well.

Although weeds hardly ever come into a place of honor, such as a vase, a bouquet, a pot or a garden, it doesn’t make any difference. They’re nonetheless still beautiful. We just can’t see their beauty. We’re rather impressed by prices, outward dimensions, showy forms and colors.

It takes ages to be cured of this “blindness”. Then a day will come when we will be able to honor and respect those whom we regard as weeds, as the Japanese who wisely honor and respect their geishas, or as we honor the Sado (horse-cart) or an antique motorcar from extinction instead of extinguishing them like outdated, shameful pedicabs. Although we can buy modern ships, yet the traditional Phinisi has become the pride of the nation.

Weeds shouldn’t be weeded out, but trimmed. A weed is like a lovely dissonance in a richer harmonious setting. They’re equally blessed with the Creator’s kiss.

The Jakarta Post, October 28, 1986

December 2010

Don't You Ever Be Sorry

Don’t You Ever Be Sorry

As far as I remember have I never asked, begged for something. My mother chose, provided for my clothes, shoes, school necessities, when I’m married, you did it for me, our sons bought me a wrist-watch, sports-shoes, a mountain-bike, a piano, computer, my father provided some money to buy us a house and our sons rebuilt it for us into a big house. There’s still a lot I haven’t mentioned.

I said: “God, I’ve nothing to ask, don’t worry, trouble Yourself to grant me anything.” Then unasked He grants me a father and a mother, three sons and a daughter except which I can’t choose them myself. Yet I would never, ever exchange them with another father and mother, or other children how loving, good, delightful, smart they are. But I may, am allowed to choose you, you know? Who knows, someday I might repent and think of exchanging you. Ha. Ha. What do you say?

I have no car and go by train, bus, walk or bike and buy me an organ. Yet, am I content. I feel myself very rich.

Sure, a man may look like a scare-crow like me, but what if he were rich in thoughts and feelings. What’s a wealthy, handsome man if he were empty, hollow, barren? Think of the mango which is not pleasing to the eye but is so fragrant and so sweet. The eye may err you know? Aren’t you proud of your smart husband and who has the courage to praise himself? Don’t you ever be sorry. Now, kiss me. It’s a command.

So Opa Johan said to his wife.

December 2009/December 2010

Lovely Sights

Lovely Sights

Seeing the “rambutan Aceh Lebak” tree with plenty of colorful fruits, abundant as Bougainville flowers. Seeing lake Pamulang rippling as a beautiful giant carpet. Seeing storks slowly sailing, high up in the sky. Looking at the full moon from below a tamarind tree, … Suppose I were an artist, I’d like to paint them.

Happy to be welcomed by hundreds, thousands crème-colored wild flowers along the path-way. How pure, how fair, how fresh as a glorious morning. I name it the “Morning Glory” of Indonesia,

Yet, lovelier is the flower I met on the hill in Cinangka. Greeted with a charming smile as in a dream. Not dressed as stewardess, not educated as university student, not as Mona Lisa in a frame, not sitting in a luxurious Mercy, bare footed, without slippers, no make-up and just living in a bamboo hut. That’s, Eve, as jamu (bitter-sweet-hot drinks) vendor.

As a lotus flower in muddy waters, Eve is the most lovely, charming sight.

From Media Indonesia 23 Desember 1992

January/December 2010

Plus & Minus

Plus & Minus

Solomon had a lot of pluses that favored him. He was a king, handsome, young, rich, intelligent, wise. He certainly would be loved, liked especially by women because of his pluses. But suppose he became poor, sick, a prisoner, perhaps he would be left alone as what was liked, loved of him were his pluses.

A vagrant, has a lot of minuses. He is poor, dirty, not handsome, has no proper education, has his home and sleeps under a bridge. Who would have him as a friend, like or marry him? But if there was one who still would like or love him then he certainly must have some thing very good, special, at least recognize him as a human being, not observed, seen by others.

And I think of Subandrio who had so many minuses as he was prisoner with a death sentence, shunned by the community and old, yet was chosen among all men by a loving woman to be her husband.

That would be an invaluable credit to them as they were loved, liked despite so many minuses.

Suppose there was a painting with a plus of being extraordinary costly. Than there’s no credit to the painting as the owner treasures it because it was of a high money value. When it’s value drops, he might throw it away. And so is a flower, a fruit, a job, a sport, a hobby, … with many pluses. When the pluses fall so will their eagerness for it, also fall, drop, flop, then leave it, stop, throw or go away.

That’s the drawback, disadvantage behind a lot of pluses as it was pursued because of the pluses, on the other hand, there’s the advantage, strength behind many minuses since it was pursued, achieved despite the minuses. A man with a big minus of being blind could still “see”, read and write.

November 2010

Joy

Joy

When we were children, we began the day with picking “Kenari” fruits. There’s an aged woman, who begins the day with picking sweet smelling “Melati” flowers.

November 2010

On Staying Young

On Staying Young

No matter how old you are, as long as you learn, excercize, striving for better, improving yourself and on top of it, are still capable of love, you would stay young. Except you want to be a decrepit old man soon.

November 2010

What Is Beautiful, What Is Ugly?

What Is Beautiful, What Is Ugly?

A pigeon baby chick is awfully ugly, yet the parent birds regard her as the most beautiful. A cock is fairer than a chicken hen, yet he doesn’t choose a cock but the “uglier” hen. There is the lovely lotus flower, yet the dirty mud had nurtured her. And in the moon light, an “ugly” frog on one of its leaves was watching over her, heightening her exquisite, delicate beauty.

November 2010

On Disciples

On Disciples

A disciple doesn’t follow his own heart’s dictates, conscience. He is only good, virtuous, upright, loves his neighbors on order, as is prescribed by his teacher

November 2010

Birds Celebrate Their Wedding Every Day

Birds Celebrate Their Wedding Every Day

Humans who are regarded as wiser have to remember their marriage with a copper, silver, golden wedding as Indonesians say. The birds celebrate their wedding every day without having to remember it.

November 2010

Choose A Grain Of Corn Or A Mercy?

Choose A Grain Of Corn Or A Mercy?

What would you choose, a grain of corn or a Mercedes were there nothing else in the world?

A grain of corn so tiny, which seems so worthless, yet can grow, multiply itself and might cover the whole world.

November 2010

The Big 8 Pledge

The Big 8 Pledge

What’s the G 8 pledge to cut green house gas emissions in half by 2050 when they’re already dead?

November 2010

Want To Hurt, Gladden Someone?

Want To Hurt, Gladden Someone?

Whenever you want to hurt or gladden someone do it when they’re still alive. When they’re dead it’s too late.

November 2010

Becoming Wiser

Becoming Wiser

Becoming wiser is just to unlearn all the nonsense, foolishness, stupidity that is praised as wisdom to trick you into believing it.

November 2010

Didn't Feel Like Waiting So Long

Didn’t Feel Like Waiting So Long

An eternity had passed before I was born. Yet didn’t I feel like waiting so long.

November 2010

Avoid War Instead Of Saving It's Victims

Avoid War Instead Of Saving It’s Victims

November 2010

The Artist

The Artist

He doesn’t seek after the dazzling light of clever people. As a firefly he carries his own (God given) so precious, breathing, living light.

November 2010

A Cricket's Consolation

A Cricket’s Consolation

“Don’t be downcast, downhearted, unhappy if you have no success with your writings. It’s God who intentionally did so to you, in order to make you, Mr. Chew not arrogant, lazy and your writings become poor, having no weight.”

November 2010

I'm Queen, She's Prisoner

I’m Queen, She’s Prisoner

What we do not know, do not see are the huge sacrifices behind a star’s success.

I imagine Joan Collins, a beauty, willingly disciplined herself to swimming for at least one hour every day, besides her morning exercizes, a tight diet to keep fit, healthy and her line, studied carefully her coiffure, her make up, her dress, her shoes and regularly goes to the boutique, fashion salon. She had to study, exercize acting, her film scripts, keep her many appointments, … I don’t think she had a lot of leisure time for herself.

Rubinstein perhaps started playing piano when he was a child. For years he exercized, studied hard and even when he was a star he said that he still had to exercize for hours – not just one or two hours - every day to maintain a good performance. When he didn’t exercize just one day, he himself would notice the difference, when he didn’t excercize for a week, his close friends would notice this.

Think of Rudy Hartono, the badminton champion, Federer the tennis champion, Tiger Woods, the champion golfer, Lance Armstrong champion of Tour de France, … what did they not sacrifice?

“Would you like to be queen Elisabeth who is still healthy and graceful? She’s over 80 by now.” So asked Opa Johan his wife.

“Certainly not, as I think how ‘imprisoned’ I would be by the rules, good manners, a very tight time- schedule in a palace. I never can laugh openly, roar with laughter, I should always suppress it for decorum’s sake. Now can I eat what I like, how to sit, to stand, when to sleep, to work, to exercize, … as I choose, decide, have fun and a lot of leisure time without anyone watching me. I’m queen, she’s ‘prisoner’. Ha, ha.”

November 2010

The Garden Of Eden

The Garden Of Eden

In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve lived in perfect happiness and unconscious goodness. Since God planted the forbidden apple tree they became restless, unhappy, eager to know, why it was forbidden to eat its apples. So the miseries follow from transgressing, disobeying the prohibition. They then became conscious of good and evil and sin,

Animals, all other creatures are not subject to this law and so don’t, can’t sin.

November 2010

Self Portrait

Self Portrait

And I were jealous,
And I feared,
And I desired the forbidden apple
And I fell
And hurt myself.

Kin to those who’re so human,
To all creatures, all life.
I am Nature’s Child.

November 2010

A Cricket's Song

A Cricket’s Song

Warble as a Nightingale? I can’t,
Though you would teach me.
Not chirp as a cricket? I can’t,
Though you would un-teach me.

November 2010

Enlightened Whisperings

Enlightened Whisperings

What’s the most beautiful thought, feeling, painting, song, music, novel, … but an enlightened whispering, a revelation God’s? And when I fail to appreciate, grasp, understand it, then God hasn’t revealed this to me.

November 2010

A Cricket's Foolishness

A Cricket’s foolishness

Oh, my delightful foolishness. Yet, in front of the Creator, the exalted thoughts of the greatest sage are not less foolish than mine.

November 2010

Name The Lowest

Name The Lowest

Name, choose the lowest, most worthless person whom we “sentence” to die in the place of Anne Frank.

November 2010

A Thought On Love

A Thought On Love

For a mother, the smallest corner is so roomy to share, the littlest food so much to give it all to her child. For a miser, a palace, all the treasures of the world is him too small.

November 2010

Revealing The Secret Of Indonesian Fruits

Revealing The Secret Of Indonesian Fruits

Leisure, fountain of our Joys!
To be delightfully occupied during our leisure time. Reading leisurely, working leisurely, learning leisurely, traveling leisurely, eating leisurely, ... and fall asleep. To feel the throb of being alive, to escape the clock or trap of routine duties. To be master of one’s time.

Should you happen to visit or stay some time in Indonesia, I would like to treat you - instead of visiting the well known famous tourist’s sites - to tasting, touching, seeing, smelling, eating, picking, plucking, cutting, cracking, watching the many kinds of our country’s fruits in a leisurely way. Imagine the funny faces you would make by “savoring” such subtle delights or perhaps ... tremendous tortures and miseries.

Nangka is as big as a roasted pig on the table. You never know what or how to eat. But after a surgical operation, the sight of the golden sweet-smelling fruits within makes one say “mmmmmmmm”.

Durian is as awesome to the touch as a heavy spiked mace-head. Those who don’t know how to handle it will make a mess by hacking it to pieces and so spoiling it. The fruit “stinks” enormously, but lovers have only praise for its creamy flavor and particular aroma.

Then have a look at the Rawit, which is as small as a match-head, so innocent and harmless looking. But even a tiny bite is enough to give you a shock of blazing hell in mouth, lips, throat, ears, eyes and makes you scream for help and water. Nonetheless, it can’t be lessened or extinguished even by buckets and tanks full of water. Though most wouldn’t like to miss Rawit at dinner time.

Pare is as bitter as gall or perhaps as bitter as when you ever have tasted any forbidden fruit. But cooked in proper ways, it is for many people still a very appetizing food and delicacy.

Don’t mistake eating the fruit of the Kenari for its kernel and say it’s tasty. Its stone is nearly as hard as stone. You’d have to get a big stone to hammer it open and see to it you don’t crush its kernel or hammer on your finger as a “souvenir”. Lovely souvenirs are cut out of the fruit’s seed. In the golden days of childhood, Kenari picking, cracking, eating is such a delightful occupation, one couldn’t stop until all the Kenari gathered have been eaten.

Then there is the Harum Manis. People say that stolen fruit tastes sweeter. But after tasting the Harum Manis, you would swear, avow, they never could excel the sweetness of this sweet-smelling mango-fruit.

And there is the Manggistan: open its chamber carefully and decently with your knife and behold nature’s sweet queen of beauty slumbering on her dark-brown couch.

And you should manage to stay some time in the country and see the Mango or the Kemang tree during their bridal festivities, draped and veiled with the richest of blossoms.

Then watch the colorful Buni berries or the Rambutan or any other fruits ripen, luring, stirring God’s creatures and man alike.

Still, there are so many fruits I haven’t told you: the Puan, Pala, Jambu, Blimbing, Salak, Duku, Lengkeng, Lontar, Ketapang, Gandaria, ... but that is for you to take a try and enjoy them as memorable souvenirs from Nature’s hand.

The Jakarta Post, February 10, 1986

No matter whether people praise or blame you, you always remain the same.

November 2010

The Nobel Prize

The Nobel Prize

And there’s Lech Valesa. Isn’t he “bound” by the Nobel Prize? Better “bad” but free, rather than good, honored but “tied”.

November 2010

Free Will

Free Will

Man is created after His image, in His likeness, that is according to His own discretion. Man certainly is not like God.

I’m happiest as I am. My free will is but what Nature, God has implanted in me. My Free will is His will.

November 2010

Opa Johan On Being Kind And Loving

Opa Johan On Being Kind And Loving

You shouldn’t be kind because I am your brother but be kind as real brothers and sisters are, even though I’m not your brother.

Would you like it if your husband were just good and loving because you’re his wife, - that’s not worth anything -, instead of being good and loving because he loves you, even though he’s not legally married to you. Besides, is it wrong, a sin, is it his fault if a married man could still love some woman?

You needn’t agree, needn’t reply.

So e mailed Opa Johan his sister in The Netherlands.

November 2010

Success

Success

Success is only in my eyes, not in the eyes of the world. Though I’ve never accumulated very great riches, published a thousand books, never got a PhD, the Nobel Prize, won a world championship, toured the world, … That’s not what I call success.

Even though I only succeeded to publish my letters almost unnoticed in small corners of not well known news papers, build me a humble home page, exercise, conduct an amateur church choir of aged, musically uneducated members, take care of my Volley Club of boys and girls, or suppose I just live in a bamboo hut, …

I’m successful, honorable only in my eyes. I am awarding myself awards.

“I have a little purse with gold which I owe, give thanks to no one” says a poet.

Success? That’s my purse with a bit of gold in it, which I earned myself.

November 2010

Forgiving

Forgiving

Certainly am I forgiving, as I myself am not better than he/she is.

October 2010

A Thought On Death

A Thought On Death

A hundred percent being free, healthy. Free from fear, oldness, sickness, free from hunger, thirst, from hate, from jealousy, pain, worries, miseries, free from feeling deceived, despised, blamed, threatened,… that must be heaven.

February 2008

A Thought On Dying

A Thought On Dying

For man life is short as just ten years or a thousand years. Life is so precious and death is such a scare. Do you ever want to die willingly in the place of your child, grandchild, your father, mother, wife, husband, grandfather, grandmother, brother, sister, … to say nothing of another? Except, when life were hell, then death must be heaven!

December 2008

Found A Heaven In My Bed

Found A Heaven In My Bed

Pak Arif told me his dream,
“I dreamt I was in heaven. Some heaven dwellers welcomed me and asked whether I still remembered them.
Certainly, I said. You are Foxy who has died. You are Benji and Chicko, my dogs who are still alive.”

“Yes, we were fated to be born as dogs.”

“And you are the Cerukcuk bird, who was despairing, as your nest fell down, since a part of the waringin branches had to be cut off.”

“And I’m the waringin tree my branches you wound.” Said another heavenly being. “Why didn’you have the nerve to protect me and ignore his claims that my fallen leaves would block his rain-drain?”

“I met my wife who eloped with another husband and many people who had deceived, cheated me, even the man who had murdered me. Strange as dreams are, how easy it was to forgive them. And as I met my many wives I had married,- I didn’t remember I had married so many women - I wondered, they aren’t jealous and didn’t quarrel.

“Conscious (in heaven) that we were just puppets in the hands of the great Dalang (puppeteer), we were unconscious, didn’t realize (on earth) that we were just puppets, but convinced, certain that we were not acting our roles or dreaming, but really living our lives.

“They welcomed me without hate, jealousy, without loving, feeling, since in heaven there is no difference between man and woman anymore, no relation of parents and children, no difference between man, animal, plant, there’s no time and space, no night and day. In His eyes, we were all equal, alike.

“Then I awoke. How happy I was, I wasn’t murdered and still alive. I reached, touched beside me. Oh what a relief, my wife was still sleeping at my side peacefully. How nice and happy it was to be still living on earth. And I was grateful that I found a heaven in my bed at that time.

“Since that dream I’m more kind, more loving towards Benji, Chicko, to trees, plants, weeds and bibi our house-maid – ‘I sincerely hate her’ said my wife in jest, play – and the petroleum vendor, and all those people who are regarded as of the lower-class, in the opinion, eyes of the public.

“Sure, however easy it is to live for those who have freed, liberated themselves of desires, wishes, as those that are in heaven, I’m still thirsting after all human wants, needs, desires with all its joys, pleasures, pain, sorrow and sadness. I’m still drawn to ‘forbidden fruits’. Yet do I not want to exchange this life, so brief, yet so precious, with an eternal, peaceful, blissful life in heaven.”

So, pak Arif told me his thoughts.

August 1999

October 2010

A Valentine Day To Remember

A Valentine Day To Remember

It’s good that there’s no such thing as Masculinism, an organization protecting, promoting the rights, the interests of men, as I think of Feminism said Pak Arif to me.

What’s the fun to join a club of men, fathers, old men with dreary views. I am feeling old, cold, weak, lonely in the company of men. A man among men, is something of a desert, a night without stars. And I imagined the military personnel who for a long period had to be separated from their wives and children and sweethearts, he said.

Not as a village chicken hen that’s happy to rear her little chicks, if a chicken by selection is chosen for its eggs or meat, in the long run it would lose her natural instincts to brood and rear her chicks. If a chicken every day is trained to fight, what about a female chicken that one day might, would crow and grow spurs?

Well, suppose we men practice, live as those in a monastery, then one day would lose our natural affection for Eve, I don’t want to be born, said he.

It’s fortunate that we have a Valentine day to remember when man and woman, male and female are happy together; that time which is so praised, sung, painted by artists and celebrated by all creatures on the earth through all the ages.

Men and women, male and female are not created to be competitors, rivals, opponents or enemies as dogs and cats are.

Are you sorry that you were fated to be born female? I then asked my wife. I’m happy to be born male, otherwise how could I have found you? Ha, ha, ha. Pak Arif laughed as he related these thoughts.

From Jayakarta, 27 April 1995

October 2010

On Being Free

On Being Free

There’s the joy of going to the Taman Ismail Marzuki Art Centre. We listen to a music recital outside the concert hall, me and her, just sitting relaxed beneath a lantern besides the pathway as we could also hear it softly, exquisitely in the open air.

I don’t have to come in formal dress, tight shining shoes, take a taxi, I just come on sandals, lightly clothed, take some snack with us and we enjoy eating it at leisure. We don’t have to talk, to comment, to shake hands with people, politely clap our hands and we‘re so free to stay or go, to listen or not listen when it’s boring us.

There’s even a greater being free. When people think, fancy that I’m a great art lover, and send me an invitation, then, I for a long time hesitating between going or not going, - as I am feeling forced to go as not to reward the kind attention of those who send me the invitation with a disappointment - I take courage, leave the cards, forget about the arts, take my bike and pedal slowly, leisurely to enjoy the evening, stop somewhere at the Monas Park and buy me warm tahu pong (fried curd bean).

In my mind’s eye I see the people in the theatre where I also would be “entrapped”, sitting stiffly, talk all the fuss about nothing, basa-basi so we say in the bahasa, just clever talk, ceremony. Now am I far away from it, so free, also free from the fear to disappoint those who very kindly send me the invitation, to celebrate my won freedom with eating tahu pong, with my self, my thoughts sitting on the sidewalk, charmed by flickering pelita lights (oil lamps) of vendors beneath a glorious starry sky.

How happy and free is the mother duck with her lovely ducklings resting in the shade beneath an only tree but freer, is the julung-julung baby fish in the sawah (rice field) water, almost infinitely free, so free, unbounded , unconscious of time, place and worries.

1977

October 2010

What Were You Fated To Be An Animal Or A Plant?

What Were You Fated To Be An Amimal Or A Plant?

Liu Xiaobo just won the Nobel Prize for peace and I think of the heroes of Human Rights, of Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Jimmy Carter and many others.

But there’s still no famous hero of Animal, Plant Rights except unknown, silent fighters, who fight, protect, shelter them. It seems so far away, perhaps we still have to wait a thousand years before this could be established, accepted.

What, were you or we, fated to be an animal or a plant? Could they help to be fated that way instead of a human being?

And I think of the Universal Rights,- except the Laws of Nature, especially for food - the right of all being to have a share of the land, the sea, the rivers, the lakes, the clouds, … the world, the sun, the stars, the heavens, … and be treated as a worthy, honorable citizen of the earth.

October 2010

Paradise Of Sounds And Music

Paradise Of Sounds And Music

Behold the greatest masterpiece on the screen of Space and Time:

A wonderful world; but no lovely sights were there no light, no stars to see were there no night. It would be dead were there no soul, no stir; of revolving, rotating planets, of sailing clouds, flowing water, waving trees, of crawling, fluttering, breathing life. It would be cold were there no warmth, or dull were there no forms, no shapes, no colors, scents and fragrances.

And having created this work of art, the Creator still added another master’s stroke of delightful sounds to break the silence of the world.
See You Tube: chewginhoa and chewspictures.blogspot.com.

Hear the delightful sounds of water murmuring, gurgling, babbling in a brook or splashing, rushing, roaring in a river; of fallen leaves, the golden paddy, Alang-Alang (sedge) rustling and trees whispering, sighing in the wind; the patter on the roof, the merry song of frogs and children playing in the rain.

Listen to a Tekukur (wood-pigeon) calling, high up in a tree and one senses the vastness and stillness of the sky. Hear the breeze-like sound of cicadas (Uir-Uir) and one is transported to the country and the woods. The “croak” of a frog, the “tuit” of the night-bird, the “thud” of a fruit falling from off its branch, or a gecko’s “tok-keeeeh” makes one feel something of the essence of the night.

Then hear such wonderful sounds as simple and natural as the crackle and the sizzle in a frying pan, or water dripping musically into a basin, of chiseling marble or chopping meat, a horse walking or trotting through a lonely road; the chimes of a clock or church bells, a lovely voice through a telephone, ...

Only artists create music out of sounds. How eloquent music is. It is even more eloquent then speech. Really, music must be made up of lyrics in sounds.
Hearing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, we would be inspired to march bravely to the end unable to surrender. We would desperately fall in love with Porgy’s Bess, though she’s “such a liquor guzzling slut” in Gershwin’s opera and weep with Bach in his Matthew Passion.

Poetry must be music translated into verse, a painting must be music in line and colors.

The gamelan (Javanese Music) sounds like coming from some celestial abode, borne on the deepest awe-inspiring gong, as if to pervade our being and the world. And how fascinating is even a recitative of a dalang (puppeteer) or a qori(ah) who recites the Koran.

Yet, no less delightful are such little pieces as a prelude of Chopin, or a sunny, carefree, play-full ‘sonatina’, or songs some people refer to as Pop. All the same, they perform them with no less feeling than opera artists.

Our Pesinden (a woman aria singer) sings as beautiful as the Lorelei; even old men would feel like young again and they make husbands forget about their wives. The Kecapi-Suling (the flute and zither) sounds so heart-rending, one would contract heartache.

These little pieces certainly are as wonderful as the best of symphonies, opera’s or oratorios. They’re as wonderful as a cricket’s chirping to the nightingale’s song, or as falling Sawah (wet rice-field) water to the Niagara Falls, or as a firefly to the dazzling sun.

Indonesia Times, May 27, 1987

Caution:

Feast your ears on sounds and music, but I warn you: Hearing music very badly performed or out of tune would be as awful as eating food without salt. Forcing oneself to enjoy a piece of music one doesn’t like, would be very agonizing and to listen too much would be as hellish as forcing oneself to eat more when one has had enough.

October 2010

The Richest Man

The Richest Man

“Look, there she is, the jamu (bitter-sweet-hot health-drinks) vendor with her bakul (basket) jamu on her back. Her great riches - as she’s young, healthy and as fresh, beautiful, lovely as morning - appear despite her poor living conditions.” So said Pak Arif.

“I, myself am full of riches almost bursting.
Riches through my eyes of finding a paradise almost anywhere;
Through feeling when I’m stepping in pure, fresh, streaming, flowing mountain water and cup it in my hands;
Through hearing it rushing in a river, gurgle, murmur, splashing in a brook or sawah (rice-field) water;
Through breathing deeply the pure, fresh air;
Through wetting myself in raindrops which so wonderfully seem to fall from heaven;
Through walking barefoot to feel the dew, cool floor;
Through a healthy hunger and being alive.

“Then there are the riches, treasures of being healthy, being happy, being free;
Of loving and being loved;
Of the carefree young and of the old with ripened thoughts;
Of those who became mothers;
Of infinite thoughts and fantasy;
Of being able to give and receive the most precious gifts;
Of …

“The richest man
Without much effort, exertion, he has a huge income,
Stolen he doesn’t become poor, suppose it could be stolen,
The more he gives, the more he receives, instead of becoming empty,
He receives a lot and doesn’t have to pay.

“He is a wandering fortune.” I thought someone had said this, but if I’m mistaken, it must be me, as I would have found it myself. Ha, ha, ha.” So said Pak Arif to me.

1977

October 2010

How Lovely, How Green

How Lovely, How Green

“How green, how lovely is this plant” said a visitor pointing to a plant in a flower pot just placed in the visitor’s hall. Unnoticed when it was happy among many other plants in the garden, as a beautiful, gracious tree unobserved among other trees in a forest.

Deprived of the sun in the room, though we regularly water it it would be unhappy, wither, become sick and die. It is similar with man and creatures.

October 2010

When I'm Ninety

When I’m Ninety

In 2020 when I’m ninety or if lucky, in 2030 when I’m a hundred years, I would be proud when I could print and publish “Bacaan Waktu Santai” myself as it would be so easy by that time, print some 10 books and send them to our national and other libraries.

Then will I start playing Bach, read Shakespeare and get me a driver’s licence.

October 2010

What A Joy Is Learning 7.1 Crickets

What A Joy Is Learning 7.1 Crickets
(from observations)

As I think of biology during my school years, oh, it’s dull, dead, lifeless learning, study. What a joy it is to learn, to study, observe them live in nature. To see, watch how they look like, how they walk, jump, fly, swim, creep, fight, eat, sleep, mate, lay their eggs, spawn, …

And I think of crickets especially the seriringan we call it. To hear its delightful chirping drunk with joy all night long, the triumphant chirping after a fight, or softly chirping, courting, wooing, coaxing the female cricket and she climbs upon him and they make love. I don’t know how they laid their eggs how they grow up except when they’re full-grown.

Cautiously, with a throbbing heart hunt for a chirping cricket on the grass by hearing its song, now here, there and anywhere to mislead the hunter, while he was at the same spot.

To see an invasion of seriringan crickets to the street-, shop-, Monas garden-lights and hear thousands of them chirping in Monas Park together as a wonderful choir sounding from all around early in the morning. It was about ten years ago that I saw, heard them for the last time.

There are many kind of crickets, jangkrik tepekong, kalung, gasir, … I don’t know their names. Many of them I don’t see, find anymore. It’s a pity if they’re extinct. They all chirp differently. You should hear them, see them chirp, walk, fly and fight. I don’t care how many feet it has, about feelers, to which class it belongs, I don’t care to be so clever. You don’t have to learn, to study, yet remember, love them for as long as life. And this is just one instance.

October 2010



Live Open-Air Concert

In spite of annoying, roaring motor vehicles passing by, a very rare, exquisite, live open-air concert can be heard free every day at dawn.

It is staged by hundreds of singing crickets on the new grassy strip in Jl. Majapahit in the very heart of Jakarta. Choirs no less wonderful than Bach’s and refreshing as a mountain breeze. And seen through a frame of gate of a pair of trees, which look like giant sized Bonsai, grand and old with age, with perching, flitting birds, they have the Palace Park, the Monas Park and the glorious rising Sun as their wondrous background décor.


Indonesia Times, March 19, 1987








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For A Dog, No Difference Between A Kang And A Servant

For A Dog, No Difference Between A King And A Servant

It’s different for a man, For a dog there’s no difference between a king or a servant. He’s never awed. He only honors and loves his master.

September 2010

Opa Johan The Smart Buyer

Opa Johan The Smart Buyer

“Keep the change, I said to the ‘angkot’ (opelette) driver and I got, bought me a smile worth much more than the change, ha, ha. Aren’t you proud of your husband?”

September 2010

All I Want Is To Live My Own Life

All I Want Is To Live My Own Life

I was baptized, was a scout, akela, am legally married, … I have freed myself of meditation, of the thoughts of the masters. I want to live my own life. I don,t want to be true, be faithful, hold on to the sacred creeds, dogma’s, doctrines, be chained by promises, vows before God, of what people think is good or evil.

Opa Johan confided this to me.

September 2010

What A Joy Is Learning 6

What A Joy is learning 6
(Volley Ball)

I never thought of ever learning volley ball were it not for my boys and their friends who were relatively short. They loved playing volley ball and tried to join a well-known club to improve their abilities. They were not openly rejected, instead they were very humiliated by the manner the trainer treated them as though empty air, not caring, exercising, and neglecting them, so they would feel uncomfortable, unwelcome and would draw back themselves.

“Well,” I said “let’s start a volley ball club ourselves.” I never selected them it’s just for those who love, like to play volley ball.

Psychologists suggest that one should choose the sport, the work, the subject, which most fits him according to his talents, to have success. If you are short, don’t play basket, or volley ball. But I insist to choose the sport you most love, you like though it doesn’t correspond to your potentials, talents to really enjoy. And I thought of Sitting Volley Ball for the disabled. What a very humane thought.

I learned a lot and exercised them, without having a trainer’s license, degree or by following the rules about good playing volley ball while I myself can’t play volley ball. “Just observe, use your wits and common sense.” I said to myself.

I have no strict rules how to pass, to set up with fingers, or pass the ball with the hands, I don’t mind their standing positions. Each one did it their natural way, which is certainly all wrong according to the accepted rules of the respected coaches, but my boys eagerly played and did relatively well.

I devised my own exercises in very simple form of the play, for example: receive, set up, over, vice versa in pairs or trio while the players rotate and we could make a match of it. We never have a show of tremendous spikes,- even if we could -, as my boys of 14 - 16 years old were relatively small 1.50 m – 1.70 m with respect to the official net height of 2,43 m for men. I have my own way of analyzing a match.*

With the height of world players of over 1,90 m it.s too easy to effect a killing spike on a 2.43 m net height. It’s not a feat to be proud of. There was a boy of 1,53 m could accomplish a lightning spike, then an international player should do the same on a net height of 2,80 m – not on a net of 2,43 m – to prove, were he an outstanding spiker.

International, world volley ball becomes a dull sport, because of the dominance of killing smashes, there’s almost no play at all, no more exciting rallies as in tennis, table tennis or badminton. I don’t very respect a coach of a champion team. He didn’t coach his team from zero. Other coaches did, he only selects, chooses them, only the very best, not the way I coached my boys from zero without ever “borrowing, hiring, skilled, talented players” for a match.

It’s stupid, We could device lower net positions for shorter players according to height-, age-classes**, have a “two times playing” the ball instead of “three times playing” and I think of chess with all the opening moves which is learned by heart. I would device a duel when the starting position is symmetry or with other starting positions or device a handicap for a strong player against a weaker player.

Sure the highest volley ball officials, authorities have no courage, no imagination, no philosophy.

September 2010

* A Way To Analyze A Game Or Set
** Classified Volley Ball
Memories Of A Volley Ball Coach

Communication In The Future

Communication In The Future

I imagine a time when one day we could have an international language as an intermediate language, which makes communication with, translation to, other languages via this language possible, as via the dollar we could exchange money to whatever foreign money. Now Google can translate English into many foreign languages and vice versa within seconds.

But in the future we could master telepathy and communicate, converse even without words, a telephone, e mail with anybody, foreigners, … and yet understand what any being says.

September 2010

Quality

Quality

It’s quality that counts.

September 2010

Respect

Respect

Real respect, reverence is involuntarily enforced.

September 2010

Which Makes A Happy Living

Which Makes A Happy Living

Suppose you suffer from diabetes, or high blood pressure, or asthma, or double vision, cholestrol, cancer, aids, depression, anxiety, mental disturbance,… I don’t believe you could enjoy your work, your meal, your sleep, your favorite occupations, your living unless you could overcome them. Healthy, being free (not “bound”) makes a happy living.

September 2010

What The Digital Camera Taught Me

What The Digital Camera Taught Me

I went to Rancamaya in the country and took a shot with my digital camera of a magnificent forest on a hill with giant trees grand with age from a distance. Back home I “played” it back and tried the many picture positions possible and what I found besides the original picture was beyond my imagination. I found beautiful weeds, (like reed) with plumes, “alang-alang” we call it, just so close before me, so artistically framed.



The digital camera taught me to see beauty what I didn’t see before. And it’s just but one and I think there are a many more in the same picture. I haven’t time to explore them all as I have almost 50 now.

August 2010

What A Joy Is Learning 5

What A Joy Is Learning 5
(shooting)

I recently started to learn to handle a digital pocket camera, perhaps the most simple one. But I was amazed. How wonderful it was. I could take beautiful country pictures on my way on my bike and take it home, play it back without going to the foto studio to make the foto’s, up to almost 1.500 shots. The pictures could be enlarged, moved, up and down, left and right. It could present if calculated, each one about a thousand possible picture positions, show it on TV or computer, print, send somebody by e mail, save it in internet and it can even do video recording.

Oh, what a joy and I’m just starting to learn it as I think of shooting weeds, lovely weeds I call it, having no name, almost unnoticed, unknown, forgotten, except as harmful weed to be extinguished, cleared out. I have no intention, pretension to be scientific, that is for those that are clever. Of shooting caterpillars, butterflies, dragonflies, lizards, chameleons, insects, birds, … a lovely girl. Besides, shooting works of art and have my own art gallery in my computer or camera.

I imagine that there will come a time when we’ll have an all surround-video camera, recording pictures covering the entire surroundings including sounds, scent, it’s coolness, the air. We then are as though back again on the same space, same spot while sitting in the room. How wonderful to see it live around us, only we can’t touch them. But that is for our grand-grand-grand-, … children to enjoy.

August 2010

What A Joy Is Learning 4

What A Joy Is Learning 4
(harmony)

When one day I stop exercising, conducting my choir I will turn to learn harmony again. Lest I should forget them, these are my notes when I can turn to in the future.

“Never take too many preoccupations at the same time if you ever want to accomplish, enjoy anything” so I remind myself. I will have my own system. Gladly, heartily would I forget all the rules, laws on harmony, of voices going parallel, intervals, chord progressions.

This is for me to remember, but you can skip, forget all this:

I just build my basic major chords consisting the notes (c, e, g,), minor chords (c, es, g) and two indifferent chords, the diminished (c, es, fis, a) and the augmented chord (c, e, gis).

New beautiful chords could be created out of a combination of those chords: C with Em, or with Am, or Gm.

There’re beautiful progressions: Cm – Esm or C – As, slowly step by step downward progressions: Cm - Bm - Besm.

Imagine, there are 12 different keys in a scale and on each key again a scale could be constructed.

This is an example: (You Tube: chewginhoa, Study In Harmony)
Am: la si do Dm: – la si la Fism: –fi sil la Bm: – fi sil fi Esm: –ri fa fi Asm: – ri fa ri Cm: - do re ri fm: – do re do [sol Am].

It takes a long time, so tediously to write it down and I likely would forget what I just played before but at that time the modern organ could record and write the music score for me.

Then will I create my own etudes, studies of harmonious chord progressions, then improvise and so learn to compose.

August 2010

Were I President

Were I President

It’s August 17, our national holiday. How sad to see school children, boys and girls go to school, workers, government officials go to their office in compulsary duty to celebrate, remember our independence day every year. Were I president I would give the people an extra holiday the next day as compensation. How happy we would be.

August 2010

What A Bravado

What A Bravado

And there was a shout, a command, so brave when there was no foe, when escorting a prisoner.

August 2010

Defile Man?

Defile Man?

You can never defile man except yourself.
Defile someone and you defile yourself.

August 2010

Pak Arif Musing On The Loss Of Virility

Pak Arif Musing On The Loss Of Virility

If a man loses his virility, even in old age he would feel it, regard it as a calamity, a tremendous, irreparable loss as a loss of his eyes, his hearing, his feet, a heart failure, a stroke, …

And I thought of unmarried couples who were blamed, scorned, feeling so wretched because of their ardor of making love. Instead they should be proud of. And of Winarsih who committed suicide, ashamed to carry, bear an illegal child rather then of being grateful that there’s a man who visited, desired her and gave her his child. And of Clinton’s and Monica’s illicit making love with a possible impeachment of the president. And of the rapist in The Filippines who was sentenced to death. Was he a criminal or a victim of an excess of virility? Was she a victim or a blessed, an honored virgin as she was irresistible in a moment that she was free, alone, outside her social “cage” that should keep her protected? Oh, so prudish, just for such “petty” sins against – God? – the rules, authorities.

Blessed are those that marry, that make love before marriage or without marriage, even the rapist as we consider, compare to the immeasurable loss of one’s virility, never, ever could make love again. They should be congratulated, instead of be blamed, sentenced.

August 2010

Lest I Should Pay More Than Is Necessary

Lest I Should Pay More Than Is Necessary

“Here is the money.”
“Thank you.”
“Make sure it is correct, lest I should pay you more than is necessary“

August 2010

What A Joy Is Learning 3

What A Joy Is Learning 3
(Conducting)

I’ve read a book, been instructed on how to conduct correctly and it was just as boring, dreary, as cold as beating time with the hands going up, down, left, right and you could do it with your eyes shut.

I have observed many really good conductors conducting. Each one doing it in a very different way. I don’t, couldn’t see them conducting like what I’ve read, learned, been instructed before.

I learned by observing Mr. Soplanit, a choir conductor who even wasn’t a conductor who had his church choir sing, so moved me while he almost didn’t conducted with his hands.

I learned to start without counting first but immediately as we draw our breath to start singing as was taught by Dr. Kelly during his public lecture on singing. I ‘m very grateful as I now can start anywhere during our singing without having to beat time.

I never saw a really good soloist, pianist, violinist, conductor with a panface without expression, sitting or standing rigidly erect, except he/she is still a student or a poor artist.

Should I conduct the way it should according to the rules it would deaden my feeling for music, kill beautiful music. It’s the music prompted me involuntarily. My hands, feet, moving, dancing, inviting, my eyes conjuring my choir. What a joy is conducting without having - a baton - to beat time, to observe the rules.

August 2010