A Flower

A Flower

There were beautiful yellow flowers on a vegetable field. But a more beautiful flower was on the bank of a lake, washing,  with her little child.

1970

August 2011

 

What Were It Your President?

What, Were It Your President?

“Have you heard it?” said opa Johan to his wife. “It is said that our president Yudhoyono is forced to step down according to the will of the people, perhaps the people who hate, do not like him. But he wouldn’t. The NATO forces aided the opposing rioters, forces, by invading Indonesia and bomb the president’s residence in Cikeas. The United Nations and many countries urged him to leave Indonesia. Except China, Venezuela don’t consent to foreign intervention. It is reported that foreign forces secretly join them to fight our ABRI  to force our president to surrender as Sadam Husein.”

Wow! Angered, indignent, our people who love and are loyal to our president consider this as a tremendous outrage, humiliation and are courageously fighting back though in an unequal battle.”

“So now that’s what I imagined of Khadafy and Lybia, were he President Yudhoyono of Indonesia or president of India or the Philippines, or ... What, if we would be forced to accept a puppet president. That’s more than a free, sane man could stand, bear. What do you think, say?”

What were it your president?

August 2011

A Victim Of His Own Creation

A Victim Of His Own Creation

                           

We certainly would rejoice having created new, better varieties of grain, coconut, chicken, cow, fish, … if indeed of better quality. Scientist are experimenting with genes and what not. But without wise, prudent consideration, they might become a nightmare instead of a blessing.

       

Have you ever heard about the hybrid “man-animal”? That is a descendant of crossing man and animal. What if one day man would really succeed to create this, as is a Spinks that has the body of an animal and a head of a man or vice versa. Or succeeded to create a deadly virus as AIDS and the virus escaped of an accident in the laboratory, or create nuclear, chemical, bacterial weapons?

I remember an old charming story, I don’t know who the wise author was.

There were three sons who intend to dedicate their knowledge for their country. The first was Iptek, the second Biotek and the third was Moyung. He was a nonentity, he can’t pride himself on scientific merits, as his other brothers,  except his common sense.

          

The oldest proved his ability by constructing the scattered bones of a lion. The second added meat, skin, claws, teeth to the carcass.

“Now, watch” he said, “I’ll bring him to life”.

But Moyung was terrified. “ Don’t” he cried. “He would prey on us”.

“Well, Moyung really is a fool, ha, ha. There never was a scientific proof that lions are endangering man.”  said their brothers.       

         

“Wait” Moyung quickly climbed a tree.

The two brothers were proud of their lion. But as soon as the animal came to life, it pounced upon them.

Yet the modern version said: “The author erred, or fooled. Don’t worry, Iptek, Mr. Technology and Biotek, Mr. Biotechnology were save and praised, honored as the Saviors, Messiah of mankind and the world. It was Moyung who always used his common sense, climbed the tree became a prey of the lion. If you don’t believe, just reread the chapter on lion’s behavior for the secondary  school.” And many people trust, believe this.

 The Jakarta Post November 10, 1992, Media Indonesia, December 6, 1992

 August 2011  

The Courage To Be Yourself

The Courage To Be Yourself

If in a society all are smoking, drinking beer and there’s one man that doesn’t smoke, drink beer, that man is brave. If all are not smoking, not drinking beer and there’s one man who does, he also is brave. To have the courage to be yourself, to be different. That’s what Pak Arif told me.

August 2011

I Need You

I Need You

“I don’t need ice cream. I need you.” So said an old, near dying man to a young woman with ice cream who had taken care of him.

Living in a rented apartment before, he offered her to stay with him. “Welcome home.” He wrote on the table with a flower in a vase when she came in. “This is your home,” the very old man said. His friends who visited him in the hospital, asked him who she was. He said “she is my wife” though they were never married.

That must be the highest honor, the greatest reward for a woman when a man could speak something like that. I imagine him, needing her love as the sun, even more than heaven.

August 2011

Most Precious Gift To Each Other

Most Precious Gift To Each Other

Being married is nothing at all. Being unmarried is just as OK. But when you one day become husband and wife, - not so much because you’re legally married or married before God in the church -, just imagine when your husband kissed you before you go to sleep and waked you up with a kiss in the morning and you too in turn, till old age. That would be the most precious gift for life, unless you stop loving each other.

Pigeons celebrate their wedding every day till old age.

So was Opa Johan’s e mail to his granddaughter.

August 2011

ABRI, The People's Guardian

                                                   

ABRI, The People’s Guardian

“Wow, the ABRI (Indonesian National Armed  Forces) were so patient, didn’t  become angry, emotional, kept silent, like stones when they were scolded, derided,  laughed at, pointed with a finger to their very nose, pushed back, thrown with stones by demonstrators, rioters. I would ’burst’ in their place. Who could endure it? They’re human beings, not robots. Instead they were regarded in the wrong, as inhumane, when they were taking measures to restore law and order.”  So someone comments when he saw this on TV recently.

We were panic stricken, we feared for our safety, our dogs,  May 14, as we saw the smoke rising in the neighborhood and imagined the mob, rioters coming closer. Moreover those who helplessly saw, experienced the plunder, the fire, the outrage, affront. The presence of ABRI security forces was a relief, a blessing.

And I remembered the joy, happiness, pride of the people when the ABRI forces triumphed and succeeded to rescue the hostages in Irian Jaya.

But for the military who sacrificed their lives – “heroes” said si Upik – doing their duty to protect, safeguard, rescue the people, there was almost nothing in the papers, on TV. No silence observed, no poetry reading, no flag half pole hoisted in their honor, they’re not missed, not mourned by the public.

For these heroes and the victims who were robbed, raped, killed without any fault, who were likely to be forgotten, unnoticed, my flag waves half pole.

                   Suara Karya, June 19, 1998

                 August 2011 

A Marriage, Just A Beginning

A Marriage, Just A Beginning

And I mused and imagined the most beautiful women which I could choose, perhaps if I were good-looking as an Apollo or Solomon who had more than a hundred beautiful wives. But what does it mean to him if some day he’s old, sick, not rich, not a king any more, they  gladly would leave him.

I certainly would be very happy if there were just one woman who picked me up, chose me above other clever, handsome men and still loves me despite my ungainly appearance. And I remember Benji the dirty, stinking little sick puppy who was left alone on a garbage heap that was taken in and so loved.

I could love almost any woman. Could you forbid me not to love  so many delightful music of Bach, Mozart, Handel, Debussy, forbid me not to like eating prawn, crab, fish, barbeque, sayur asam,  pete, pecel, mango, durian, … or forbid me to like orchids, roses, even weeds as well? Which should I choose? Which is the number one? All are number one. There’s no second.

To be lucky to fall in the arms of a woman and be permitted to kiss her or being kissed.

I did not know that a marriage is just the beginning of a new, still, richer, adventurous life before. What’s a happy, safe marriage without quarrels, disputes, jealousy, “infidelity”, hard times, daily chores… the storms of life, when the marriage boat almost capsized, as what I encounter I never knew, imagined before. Lovers dream of marriage as a haven, a stupid, dull heaven on earth. Ignorant of married life brings disappointment, disillusion,

Yet those unmarried certainly are not less lucky, less happy than those that are. Why? Sure, you, anyone always could be a couple, man and woman as Nature’s Children, male and female, without oaths, papers and wedding ceremonies. I did not tell my wife though. She would say I’m a scoundrel. Ha, ha, ha. So said opa Johan.

January 2009

August 2011

Man's Most Favorite Choice, Liking, Preference

Man’s Most Favorite Choice, Liking, Preference                        

“Banana?”

“No.”

“Durian?”

“No, but cigarettes. Cigarettes is man’s most favorite choice according to an ad Pria Punya Selera that was anywhere on billboards.”

Though nice, warm, exclusive they say, but to me as a man, it’s even more nice, more warm, more exclusive, inspiring  to be with Eve, rather than  with a cigarette. A man is never so manly if he is not guarding, watching over, with a woman, not with smoking a cigarette or being a heavy drinker of beer, strong drinks, dressed in an expensive, luxurious coat or sitting in a Mercy.

There’s no greater humiliation for a man except he is not being treated as a man by a woman, since it’s woman only who could lift, raise a man into a real man, not a cigarette, nothing else.

How lucky a man when he falls into her arms, or to win the first prize in life’s lottery, to be permitted to kiss her. What’s the warmth of a cigarette or just sipping strong coffee as they say. And a man will choose woman, endure hell, instead of  becoming a president.

Man’s most favorite choice, preference, liking? Surely Woman, Eve, la Femme.

From Bisnis Indonesia, April 12, 1991

August 2011

Privacy

Privacy

How fine to sit leisurely in the dark, the shade, behind the bushes free from intruders, guests, ...

August 2011

Opa Johan's Picnic

Opa Johan’s Picnic

Sitting beneath the bamboo trees am I having my picnic: warm rice, an egg, sayur (cooked vegetables in light coconut milk), a spoon, coffee-milk, water and my drinking glass for my breakfast, with a  peaceful view of the Kemuning lake, relaxed, grander than a king, being watched, served, sitting rigidly, dining at his dining table, but suffering,  imprisoned in a brilliant dining hall. Ha, ha.

That’s what he told his wife.

August 2011

Opa Johan And An Old Man Vendor

Opa Johan And An Old  Man Vendor

There was an old man, weak, trembling, limping – it were better if he were sitting in a wheelchair – you know, carrying a small tray with “merchandize” to earn his living. He was at the railway-station in Bojong Gede on a high, narrow platform with a lot of people waiting for the train. How brave he is.

But it did not come to my mind at that time to buy me some tissues and hand him a banknote of Rp. 100.000.- That’s just about, or only some ten dollars.  He then will look up very bewildered, confused, upset, disappointed as he surely never would have money enough to  give me the change. I feign blaming him. But then I tell him to keep the change. He would be surprised, elated as I really want to give him the money whithout his knowing, without having him lose his honor, selfrespect by humbling himself to begging or receiving an alms.

I would have my camera ready and shoot him. Ha. Ha.

That was in my mind. Alas am I almost always late for a decision. Now am I prepared for another time. Am I not a smart, good husband? So, now kiss me, be prepared, I might also fool you some day, Opa Johan said to his wife.

August 2011