History Repeats Itself

History Repeats Itself

History is repeating itself. Now a 12 year old Japanese girl has been …… by three American soldiers based in Okinawa.

Years ago during world-war II, it was not one female, but two hundred thousand girls who were victimized while being forced to offer consolation services to Japanese military personnel.

It would be an inhuman task to feed an army in occupied territory if there are insufficient food stocks. And there are only a few among us who can pass up “tantalizing fruit”. An ex-consolation girl might well play with the thought: “couldn’t Japan supply consolation girls to the American forces in Okinawa as penance, instead of denouncing the three American service men for bad conduct?”

“No,” said one observer. The party at fault here and thus to be punished, are the leaders and warmongers who started the war and enacted military service. Solders are gone for months, indeed they may be separated from families, friends and girlfriends for years. Only after the war is over, if they are lucky, do they get back to their hometowns. An army is also a victim of war.

War should be denounced and be eliminated.

“Except to fight against AIDS, Poverty and Stupidity. Ha, ha, ha.” Si Upik laughed.

From Merdeka, The Jakarta Post, December 6, 1995

January 2011

The Age Of High-Technology

The Age Of High-Technology

“No Sundays, research 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. After every two years the manufacturer has to create a newer model of his car, and of every computer type that is just to be marketed, a newer computer type should be ready, since the life-time of each kind of product is becoming shorter and shorter. Then it is imperative that national productivity should rise from day to day.”

So something like that is said about the Age of High-Technology in our foremost paper in Jakarta with eye-catching head-lines as though to persuade people to join in this movement. It said that business war became fiercer and global. As though man should be raised, trained, formed to become something of a robot, a tool with a high productivity.

“Wow, if welfare, comfort, in that age should be got, be bought with such an inhumanly way of working, as though a machine, on the contrary would I make every day a holiday. There’s no day that’s not a holiday. Leisure time 24 hours a day, 7 holidays a week.” So Pak Arif jested.

I would live, stay in the beautiful Ci Nangka Valley where the Pasanggrahan river passes by, plant, talas, ground-nut, nangka, manggis, mango, … plow my paddy field, tend my buffalo, start learning to play the kecapi, (Indonesian zither) and unlearn what I’ve learned, instead of learning to become a very pintar (clever, smart) robot who lives in a jungle of concrete and towering sky-scrapers in dreary cities with a climate of high-technology.

What I would like of high-technology is that it should be capable of making one work just one day a week to support his family and still be able to travel abroad. Make the student capable to study just one day a week to make him able and pass his exam before the time schedule. Could abolish poverty from the world, make the earth fertile, green and have the people, all creatures live in a happier world.

But not such high-technology that would make man fuss and busy with pressing, preying on one another in a killing competition so highly insensible.” said he.

From Jayakarta, October 13, 1992

January 2011

Exploitation Of Man By Man

Exploitation Of Man By Man?

What’s the difference between a becak (Pedi cab) driver and a jet aircraft pilot? They are just the same. They carry passengers. No matter how low the becak driver’s profession is, he remains a human being. He is not an animal which can be treated arbitrarily.

He is an entrepreneur and employs himself. He does not work for somebody else. He feels free to work, he is proud of his vehicle and his profession. His is an honorable profession and a respectable job for the matter.

Exploitation de l’homme par l’homme? He doesn’t feel himself exploited by his fellow human beings. What this French saying (exploitation of man by man) indicates is, making man work without proper payment or paying workers an amount below the minimum wage for survival. This is inhumane. This is not so with the becak profession.

Thailand’s crown princess Sirindhorn pedaled a becak when she was visiting Indonesia October 1984

From Pos Kota, The Jakarta Post, February 15, 1990

B u t ,

Government officials say the profession of the Pedi cab driver is inhumane as the job they perform is regarded as exploiting men. “Memperkuda”, they say, that’s treating him as a horse.

If that concept is to hold, then quite a number of other professions will also fall into the same category including that of house servant. And what about other professions such as the designer or the director of a company? Are their capabilities not being exploited for the benefit of other people?

I don’t see any point in the idea if each of us is expected to provide all the services one need all by ourselves, which means that we have to be our own cook, driver, pilot, teacher or salesman at the same time.

And taken from this point of view, the profession of Pedi cab driver, like other professions is just a means of extending services to fellow citizens, instead of exploitation or having others work for us as a horse.

The Exploitation of Service, from Jayakarta, the Jakarta Post, March 13, 1990

January 2011

The Courage To Say What You Think

The Courage To Say What You Think

“Were I the writer of Solomon’s Songs would you have the courage to say that’s good writing, praise me? But as it is taken up in the Bible would you have the courage to say it is bad, blame God?” So would I e mail my sister in The Netherlands.

A good thought, no matter who said it, me, a child, a soldier, not a general, will always be a good thought.

January 2011

Worse, More Dangerous Than Deadly, Mass Killing Bacteria

Worse, More Dangerous Than Deadly, Mass Killing Bacteria

You certainly wouldn’t throw stones to our neighbor’s houses, even wouldn’t throw stones into the air as it might endanger someone or smash into a window pane, or to a dog, shoot birds. Ordered, you wouldn’t obey it. Would you?

But in the war of Iraq, one doesn’t throw stones, however big it is, but missiles, not to houses but to cities. On TV it’s seen as thousands of fireworks flying towards you.

Not a stone, but a bomb of perhaps more the 500 Kg. Not one stone but thousands, not stones but bombs and missiles, not once, one day, but for days, weeks. And this was done without feeling sorry, feeling wrong, as it was commanded, a duty. Those that let the atomic bomb fall will remember the event for life.

Suddenly human beings were shot, killed for no reason, no crime, no misdeed and it’s lawful, legitimate. A murderer would be tried, but this was mass murder. How cruel. What an injustice. War is a legalised crime. A dog, a cat, a bird wouldn’t be shot, instead it would be protected. Who thinks of throwing stones to our neighbor’s houses, to museums, destroy beautiful gardens, woods. But they were destroyed, though invaluable. War degrades our sense of humanity and turns him into a robot: “March, halt, shoot, charge,..!” losing all his discretions, responsibilities.

And those that were attacked, also were infected and became insane and repaid it with suicide attacks.

Those that initiate war are spreading “hate”, which is worse, more dangerous than the contagious deadly, mass killing bacteria. This is what I’m afraid of, that I, you, we would be infected with “hate”, becoming insensible, insane, losing our self.

That was A Father’s E Mail To His Sons.

May 12, 2004

January 2011

A Worse Punishment

A Worse Punishment

“Well, what’s the use of mere apologizing and condemning. The violator should be punished by seeing the same, if the same fate befalls to his loved ones before his very eyes.” said a woman after watching the victim’s shocking, inhuman experience before the Human Rights Committee as shown on TV mid-May 1998. Perhaps, this is a worse punishment than having him flogged severely in public.

For many days, her words preoccupied my thoughts said Pak Arif. And I dreamed I was in the court of the just and wise Judge Bao with the violator and the woman accuser who wanted the violator to be punished in the same way as what he did to his victims. Contrary to his wont, Judge Bao granted the suit. “Take his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his mother before the court and have the executioners ready.” he ordered to the officials of the court. The court was dumbfounded, silent.

As in the tale of Draupadi who was dishonored by Dursasana and his brothers in front of her husband, aunts, uncles, grand sires and royal visitors, they also were stripped off, of their clothes.

They kneeled in fear and sobbed: “Please have mercy on us, help, save us Judge Bao. Oh, God. What have we done that we deserve such a cruel punishment?”

Seeing such a fate befall to women as she herself is, without any wrong, so helpless, so pitiful, she forgot her charge. “Stoooop! Judge Bao. Don’t continue this torture, insult, affront, outrage. They are innocent! Thousand years of prison wouldn’t be enough to wash away these wrongs, their suffering or dry their tears.!” So did she cry aloud and I awoke, breathing freely.

How lucky that it was just a dream, said Pak Arif. Whoever wants to be an executioner of helpless women … “more over,: what’s wrong with them? - Except he, who has lost or traded his sense of humanity.” Si Upik interrupted.

From Sinar Pagi, August 8, 1998

January 2011

A Thought On Inhuman Behavior

A Thought On Inhuman Behavior

In former times, naughty children were sometimes threatened with cabe rawit (a very small hot-tasting chili) and chicken dirt to their mouths or locked up in a room, beaten with a rattan or having no meal as punishment by their parents who were angry. Now, should children then revolt against their parents and establish a movement, which is anti-, counter parents? There’s no such thing in their minds, said Pak Arif.

Suppose we persuade children to join a movement that’s countering parents. Christie, Stephen, Angie, Jason, Justin would say, “Why? They’re no foes. Dad and mama are our most loved ones in the whole world and whom we wouldn’t exchange with any other pap and mama. Even if we get a beating.

What should be fought against is inhuman behavior perpetrated not only by parents, by masters, but by anyone; not only to children, to women, but to anyone.

Wow, how sweet it would be when on Woman’s Day, women celebrate the day by surprising men, their husbands with something special that’s nice to them.

Pak Arif whispered to me: “Instead of celebrating with publishing (at that time in Jakarta), gathering all the sins, atrocities perpetrated by men towards women. Is it only men that are capable of such inhuman demeanor?

Complain about The Almighty who created man so black! I would rather sing, praise woman, of her goodness, her warmth, her charm, her smile, her voice her dignity, … and be very grateful to The Creator who made her, instead of exposing her wickedness, deceit, as I myself am not better than she is, said Pak Arif.

Well, I can’t wait till Man’s Day to come if there was one. I’d celebrate any day of the year by surprising women with something delightful when I’d feel like it.

And I remember the marriage agency in the news paper for men and women who wish, seek a partner. Man, woman and children united in harmony makes a happy family.

From Jayakarta, July 28, 1995

January 2011

House that's Banjir- and Gempa- Proof

House that’s Banjir- and Gempa- Proof

“Raining again.” complained someone on the train. His neighbor replied: “Well, when it doesn’t rain for a long time, people complain of the air being very hot, the land dry and barren, when it rains, wrong again as one complains about banjir (flood), being muddy, wet.

Meanwhile the citizens of Jakarta, the press were eager to discuss the banjir disaster. No, not disaster but celebration said the children, workers, employee’s, as they unexpectedly got a holiday and some children and people had a chance to rent their umbrella, sampan (small boat), push stranded cars, and earn some money.

I remembered the passenger’s wise reply as though to say that we are not grateful and blame the Creator, who doesn’t take into account our wishes, wants, schedules.

Banjir is impartial. Those who have their nests, lairs, homes destroyed, swept away, please move to a safer place. Man, who is better equipped with intelligence and means should be able to cope with flood or drought, instead of complaining, blaming, cursing them.

And I remembered the cactus in the desert who preserves water in her stems and leaves to survive. The penguin protects itself with thick warm feathers in the icy poles. “Only if man could build himself a home that’s banjir-, gempa- proof” I said. (gempa, earth-quake)

“It’s not impossible” said si upik. “Build a RUPUNG (RUmah aPUNG or a floating house).”

“How so?” I asked.

“Building a floating Dream House in the air. Ha, ha, ha.”

From Sinar Pagi, March 12, 1996

January 2011

House that's Banjir- and Gempa- Proof

House that’s Banjir- and Gempa- Proof

“Raining again.” complained someone on the train. His neighbor replied: “Well, when it doesn’t rain for a long time, people complain of the air being very hot, the land dry and barren, when it rains, wrong again as one complains about banjir (flood), being muddy, wet.

Meanwhile the citizens of Jakarta, the press were eager to discuss the banjir disaster. No, not disaster but celebration said the children, workers, employee’s, as they unexpectedly got a holiday and some children and people had a chance to rent their umbrella, sampan (small boat), push stranded cars, and earn some money.

I remembered the passenger’s wise reply as though to say that we are not grateful and blame the Creator, who doesn’t take into account our wishes, wants, schedules.

Banjir is impartial. Those who have their nests, lairs, homes destroyed, swept away, please move to a safer place. Man, who is better equipped with intelligence and means should be able to cope with flood or drought, instead of complaining, blaming, cursing them.

And I remembered the cactus in the desert who preserves water in her stems and leaves to survive. The penguin protects itself with thick warm feathers in the icy poles. “Only if man could build himself a home that’s banjir-, gempa- proof” I said. (gempa, earth-quake)

“It’s not impossible” said si upik. “Build a RUPUNG (RUmah aPUNG or a floating house).”

“How so?” I asked.

“Building a floating Dream House in the air. Ha, ha, ha.”

From Sinar Pagi, March 12, 1996

January 2011

Honey Always Sweet To Me

Honey Always Sweet To Me

I remember the prince saying: “ Honey will be always sweet to me, Honey, although someone says it’s not or bitter.” Just guess, who is the happier, you or me?”

Without giving her the opportunity to answer he whispered to his princess: “Me, as I do love you more than you … me.

They certainly didn’t compete as is common between rivals in harming, cornering one another, but on the contrary, compete in offering the greatest happiness, blessing, heaven, to each other.

“To someone who harbors envy, hate, ill will, heaven is,” … “is to harm, hurt some one he hates and succeed to send him to hell. Ha, ha, ha.” Si Upik interrupted.

From Swara (Kompas), October 7, 1999

January 2011

A Manyar Nest

A Manyar Nest

How lovely, cozy is a nest of the Manyar bird hanging high up on coconut trees. It’s cleverly woven from dry leaves of grass, picked up somewhere, into a form of a boot. How deftly they fix it on the leaves of the tree as though to adorn a Christmas tree, safe from predators, rocking gently in the wind, sheltered from the sun and rain. They’re so happy to have a nest to live in, with their mate, to lay their eggs and rear their kids. How I wish I could have a little home in a tree, or in my Dream-house of the future floating on a lake. So si Upik mused.

An inner voice whispered: “just calculate how many hundreds of square meters land would be required, the many trees that should be cut down, cubic measures of sand that should be taken from the river, sacks of cement hollowed out from the rocks to build a mansion to shelter his family, his servants, his dogs, cats, birds, his cars and all the household furniture, not to say of building a villa somewhere in Puncak and invest in tens of hectares of land.”

“Hmm, that’s none of your business. Just sour grapes. You but envy those who are happy and successful.” She pictured the owner’s retort.

Yet, it’s greedy, she mused; without much concern for the land, the rocks, the rivers and its inhabitants.

From Merdeka, February 15, 1995

January 2011

Adam And Eve In Our Time

Adam And Eve In Our Time

Song Of Solomon In Old Age

Eve: “I don’t care though you say a thousand times that you can’t love me and accuse, blame me that I tie you up and don’t give you your freedom. How I still want to stay with you though every another time you chase me away. Can’t you see, feel? Now kiss me, to make up for all the wrongs you did to me without reason.”

Adam: “Were I ashamed would I extract my teeth that are still left, make me nice artificial teeth and paint my hair black. I’m grateful for them, having served me so well for more than 80 years.

“Could you know that one day I would look like as a scare-crow, would you then marry me? Wouldn’t you regret it? It would be a shame were I to cover, hide my poor, old appearance to deceive you. And what is it worth if you just loved me, were I young, handsome, you were faithful just because you feared of what is said that ‘what God has united, no man ever should separate?’

“Now, kiss me if you aren’t sorry of having married me.”

January 2011

Feeling Good. Feeling Bad

Feeling Good, Feeling Bad

Done badly, behave badly, think badly is contagious. It makes me feeling bad, forcing me to think badly about that person. Done well, well thought is also contagious. That person makes me feeling good and happy as when I sing, remember that beautiful German folk-song of Robert Stolz: ‘Auf der Heide bluh’n die letzten Rosen’. Ha, ha. So said the Choir Conductor to me.

January 2011

My Visitor

My Visitor
There were no beautiful views of mountains, landscapes, lakes or rivers. Yet, on that very spot where I was seated, there was a wonderful wood before me with very strange beautiful ferns, bushes and trees, so fresh and green. with inhabitants and creatures. I was in a charming rustic village. I saw, met the lovely village maiden in pink, so tiny, so pure, so tender, so lovely, so modest, others are in white or blue. I opened my parcel and spread it out on the ground. What a joy to see this wonder, this village while enjoying my picnic.

Then came a dark, joyful, daring big fellow, sniffed the air. Welcome to this feast I said. Seeing a very rich feast before him, he tasted, climbed up, inspected the dishes and exited and joyously carried he a heavy, big lump of food without asking for permission, stumbling back into the woods, without saying goodbye and thank you, excited, so happy to share this welcome prize with his brothers and sisters. Thank you Mr. Ant to visit me and for sharing my food with you.

How grateful and happy I was for having seen, visited this charming world on a little plot of earth before my feet, my eyes. Just weeds, says someone.

January 2011

Cancelled To Becoming Rich

Cancelled to Becoming Rich

“Dad, have you got “Dibawah Bendera Revolusi” (Writings, speeches of the late President Soekarno)?” so Boy asked. It was advertised and priced US $ 4.000.- in the internet for both books. I can place it in the internet.”

“Well do it.” said Opa Johan. “ How nice it would be if it could be sold that much. Calculated at a rate of Rp. 13.000.- a dollar, we would have Rp. 52.million. We suddenly would become rich.” He said to his wife.

“Four hundred dollars for Boy’s efforts, two hundred for An and two hundred for you to repay my moral debt. Ha, ha, ha”. teasing his wife.

“Then have the remaining on deposit with an interest rate of 48% a month. Every month we would earn about Rp. 1,4 million after tax without doing anything. Then send a draft of Rp. 600 thousand to aunt Nora who’s now 80 years living in Palembang. And if necessary, we could provide the woman vagrant with a sum to start a little business. Wow, a common government official doesn’t even get a salary of Rp. 1,4 million. Moreover as I think of those who are fired because of mass unemployment.”

“What, if the books invite a robber in disguise of a buyer as though eager to buy the books?” his daughter in-law warned

After a week, Boy said: “It’s just that the books are supposed to be worth such a lot, so many adds are in the papers (for weeks), in fact there’s no one who would buy them.”

“So, I’m cancelled to becoming rich.,” said Opa Johan to his wife.
It doesn’t matter though, as we don’t become poorer.” His wife comforted.

“Except to becoming richer in grey hair and an increase in years. Ha, ha, ha.”

I then remembered the Dutch saying: ”Zich blij maken met een dode mus.” Don’t gladden yourself with something, hopes which turns out just to be a dead sparrow, an empty dream.

From Bisnis Indonesia, August 21, 1998

January 2011

A Wise Trainer

A Wise Trainer

“Is it O.K. if one exercises regularly every morning to keep one fit and healthy?” asked a member to his trainer at the Monas Square Park.

“Certainly not.” he said. “Suppose one exercises regularly and in the right, required manner, even using the newest, best equipment, when one doesn’t eat regularly and haven’t got sufficient nutrition, or eat too much fat, or suffer from lack of sleep,… the benefits would be wasted. We have to observe all our daily activities with care if we want the health benefits of regular exercise. If we neglect one or some of them, our efforts would be in vain.

“Thank you,” I said in my heart. What a wise man. In fact he told this invaluable advise to his member. I didn’t know them, yet I indirectly profited from this conversation, how to keep one, myself, fit and healthy.

So many fine, invaluable thoughts, do we hear, as “pearls”, we did not expect we could pick them up so easily without any effort, any payment, instead of having to find them on display in a bookstore and pay a high price for the book.

Upik asked, “do you mean people would be more confident after reading it in a big book, very difficult to understand, rather than by having them just as clear and easy by listening to someone talking?”

I picked it up just by “reading” all what affect, happen around me, us. Not just by reading a lot of books. They are not spoken about at school, at the university or seminar. Sure, I don’t earn money by having such an occupation, yet it’s worth a lot more than mere money, or food. They’re my riches.

A very engaging pastime, except, when you have a hobby like this, people would think that you are lazy, loafing, idle, poor, while the reverse, opposite is true, ha-ha, ha, as Pak Arif told me this.

From Suara Karya, 31 Oktober 1997

January 2011

Enlightened Whisperings

Enlightened Whisperings

Isn’t it strange how people chase away a mouse the minute they see it, as if it were an enemy, thief or a plague? But the mouse in Walt Disney’s eyes was a friendly, human creature.

Pak Arif said the same thing. In the eyes of a gardener or farmer, weeds obstruct garden views, damage roads and stunt growth. In their eyes, weeds should be destroyed.

Delicate beauty

But if people would only look a little closer, the Almighty would pry his eyes open. He will heal the blind and make them see. He will drive away ignorance. He will bless dull-witted persons with brilliant minds. He will chase away arrogance. He will make them see a beautiful garden with flowers, stems and leaves.

From Jayakarta, the Jakarta Post, January 21, 1997

January 2011

Brain Gymnastics 2

Brain Gymnastics 2

Some villagers were to visit another village. So the story runs. On their way, the road divided into two roads. There were two brothers who knew the true road. One brother always told the truth, the other always told a lie. Only one question may be asked to only one of them. The villagers couldn’t decide which road was the road to be taken. So they returned and asked Abu Nawas for help.

On the same spot again, Abu Nawas questioned one of the twin brothers. After hearing his answer Abu Nawas then was assured which road was the right one.

“How could you know this?” the people asked him.
“Well, that’s easy.”

Can you guess what he asked to know which road is the road that should be taken?

This was what Abu Nawas asked:
“What would your brother tell me whether this road is the true road?” Suppose it was the truth teller - if this is the true road – he would say:“my brother (the lier) would say ‘this is the wrong road’.” Than that is the right road since his brother always lied.
Suppose it was the lier instead who answered, he would also say “my brother –the truth teller - would say ‘that is the wrong road’.” As he always lies. Then again, this is the true road, not the other.

So that certainly must be the true road.

If the answer was: “Yes, this is the true road.” Then the true road is not this road, it must be the other one.

January 2011

On Teachers

On Teachers

”Push the pedal accelerator to two.” Her brother scolded. What does he mean by “two”? Her instructor at the school for driving didn’t taught, told her that. Confused, nervous, she started again. The car rolled slowly forward, then, “greg” ran over the wheel of a bike which was parked at the road-side and she had to pay Rp.50.000.- for the damage. Her brother’s face was furious, angry and seems to say “how stupid”. Yes, sure, that’s the way how to teach a beginner from “being able” into “being unable”, killing one’s confidence and ardor. He forgot, that he too was just as stupid as she is now when he started to learn driving a car.

Dorna is another kind of teacher, master.
When he saw how well Harjuna fought with him during the Bharata-yudha war, he enjoyed the fight. Dorna rejoiced, is happy and proud of his favorite pupil, for, perceiving his excellence, brilliance in the martial art, his own excellence, brilliance is reflected.

Two old women choir singers failed the test to become a church choir singer. Their choir leader was so sorry for them. Oh, how difficult it was to teach them the most elementary, easy things as do, re mi and beat time, as difficult as teaching a dolphin play in a circus.

How happy they were as at last they succeeded to pass the test and not because of being pitied. But it was the choir leader who was happier and proud, for, he feels, it was he himself who was being tested and had success in teaching the slowest, least talented singers to become able to sing. Though he well knows that by stricter audition he would have a better choir.

“When someone fails, fails and fails again, perhaps the teacher is unable to make his students capable. Who can pride himself in teaching a clever, most talented person?. Mozart was even better than his teachers.” he said.

Then isn’t it great, when a teacher doesn’t fear to impart all his knowledge, ability to his students, or to be surpassed? What about a teacher who never taught as though he were a teacher?

From Berita Buana, 15 April 1993

January 2011

"Someone To Watch Over Me"

“Someone To Watch Over Me”

“As she stood so close in front of me, I would, could embrace her waist in the overcrowded train. And she looked down on me and I looked up at her. And when my neighbor beside me left, she sat close beside me and gently pressed herself against me as a woman leaning against a man, though I was wearing shorts, the only man that’s wearing it that way in the train, dirty, in plain sports shirt, old, worn shoes, white hair. She didn’t turn away in disgust, you know.” he said. ”I would kiss her goodness, warmth and I thought of the young man who asked Princess Diana to be allowed to kiss her. This was even more than a kiss as it was granted me unasked despite my poor appearance.” Opa Johan was silent.

“I’ll never would see her again. I ‘m grateful it was just there in that overcrowded train, of that very moment, I’ll ask not more, but remember this with fond affection.”

And Gershwin’s: ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’, slowly dawned on me.

September 2008

January 2011

Hidden Treasures

Hidden Treasures

“And as I think of all the “gold” or the vast hidden treasures of beauty, wisdom, … - money can’t buy -, in Bach’s Matthew Passion, the Mahabharata, The Dream in The Red Chamber, in the fairy tales of H. C. Andersen, in the Chicken Soup For The Soul, in a Chinese painting, in a film of Walt Disney, too many to be mentioned. And that so cheap or almost for free to have it, Just the price of the book, the CD or VCD or just by borrowing or even to see or hear or read it somewhere without having to possess them.” pak Arif said to me.

“Whoever is feeling poor with so much “gold” around him, as he could have them for almost nothing. He is so rich, who would be envious of another one’s wealth? Don’t you think so?” pak Arif asked me.

“Oh.” comments someone “It’s just printed paper, paint on canvass, a thing, a good. Except, .. it’s worth a lot of money or whether it could be profitable to posses these objects.”

July 2007

January 2011

A Mother's Cry

A Mother’s Cry

War often causes arbitrary actions, cruelty, suffering, hate, enmity, sadness to the parties involved and tends to weaken our sense of humanity.

I remember an American woman on TV, protesting the gulf war. “I don’t want to lose my son, nor do I want other loving mothers to lose theirs. I don’t want my son to be educated to believe that killing loved sons of other mothers is right.”

This mother’s cry that could soften a stone, couldn’t melt, move the hearts of Kreshna* and all the warring leaders of the world to stop the “Bharata-yudha”** war.

And I asked myself whether there’s a loving wife who ever wants to lose her husband. Even though a father is hailed as a hero, could a child be happy and proud of his father while he knows that his father killed many fathers and is causing sadness to their children and their mothers? There’s no girl who could be happy and proud, realizing that her darling is killing some dearest honey of another girl, wishing her unhappiness, as she never wishes such a fate herself. More over, who ever wants to lose his life in compulsory military service in the event of war?

But not all military personnel behaved badly.
Once during the Japanese occupation, when we were still small children playing, chatting, having fun in the garden, a Japanese man in civil clothing came along and asked politely whether he could join the lively, spirited party, for seeing us gay and happy, he remembered his own children and his wife in Japan. Isn’t he also a victim of war, as he is forced to be separated from his family? How many more, does war divide people from their beloved. And I think of the soldiers who could never return home as happy birds returning to their nests.

* Hindu God
**Hindu war in the Mahabharata

From Jayakarta, 31 July 1992

January 2011

On Reading

On Reading

There’s even a more creative way to reading.
All, that’s surrounding, affecting us, our thoughts, our feelings, our preoccupations, … are nothing but libraries of unprinted subjects.

I don’t suggest one to read less, but to see, to watch, to hear, to listen, feel, breathe, think and live more.

January 2011

A Dear-Mother's Invention

A Dear-Mother’s Invention

“Well, let’s play the three fingers guessing game.” (the thump, forefinger and little finger) said mother to her little girl. “When you lose, you must pay me with a kiss. When I lose, I will kiss you as a penalty.” Oh, how sweet it is playing such a simple game in such a manner.”

“If I’d known it before, I would have played it in a somewhat similar way with my Valentine at that time. Ha, ha, ha.” said Opa Johan.

January 2011

A Mother's Heart

A Mother’s Heart

Ade lost her son. He was stabbed to death.

Oh, she doesn’t care about the sermon of the preacher, as he will never return, even if she would be given an island, a house like a palace and an income for life. That wouldn’t comfort her, even whether she was granted the whole world.

Suppose God should console giving her, her youth again, beauty, good health and another child in his place, she would say:

“Gladly am I prepared to grow old, bald, toothless and ugly if that could bring him back.”

“What, if I take another son from you instead of him. You decide which one.” said God.

“If You have the heart to force a mother to decide the blackest destiny for her children, You should take me first.”

January 2011

Benjamin Couldn't Say Goodbye

Benjamin Couldn’t Say Goodbye

“Suddenly, unexpected, he went away. Could I know it before, I’d never miss the chance to see his shows on TV” so said Ita, a teenager while her younger brother said, I prefer to be a Benjamin, rather than a minister. He is more loved, remembered by the people”.

“What would you do if you knew that tomorrow is Doomsday?” asked Pak Arif. Ita fancied herself: spend all her money, eat the most delicious food, ice cream, pray for forgiveness, pay off all her debts, and eh, … marry her “prince”.

“When St. Fransciscus was asked the same question, he said that he would just continue to plough his field, and do his daily chores as is his wont.”

“Why doesn’t he want, wish, as other people would if they could know the last day of their life?” asked Ita.

“Then it would be too late.” Said Pak Arif. “I imagine St. Franciscus knowing that he never could know the time to say farewell so every time there’s an opportunity he is doing the best thing he should, could do. He has, does already all what he wants. He wants nothing more.

“He can’t recover, undo, wipe away, what had passed, had happened. He can’t hasten his life, eat more, see more, read more,... Moreover, you can’t “eat up” all your riches except as much as your daily meals, your daily reading, daily joys, … Any day could be his last day. It’s now, today, not tomorrow.

“Everyday he eats the nicest, best food, though it’s just simple fare, the coolest drink, though but plain water, anytime he wants to pray, he prays, he never wasted his time to no purpose. He isn’t resentful, hostile, even birds aren’t afraid of him, so they say. He’d lived well, perhaps poor in the eyes of people, yet never could he have lived a better, “richer” life.

“Well, would you postpone your marriage with your “prince” till a day before your last day? What do you think?” So asked Pak Arif.

Ita kept silent. “True, don’t be a fool, don’t wait, postpone, delay doing, what is best, most likable for you, in order not be too late and be sorry. Benjamin, anyone never has the opportunity to say goodbye.” So she assured herself.

From Jayakarta, September 20, 1995

January 2011