This is my book. You can read it.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Rasa Betah
Saya mau rumah yang mungil, kebunnya luas, tembok-nya berwarna pastel, tempat duduk, mejanya yang rendah, tempat tidur, gordennya yang begini, dapurnya yang begitu, lampunya redup, kamar mandi dan WC-nya ... Pusing, selalu ada saja seribu satu keinginan yang lain yang mau diupayakan agar rumah dibikin menjadi lebih hangat, lebih betah didiami. Begitu keluh calon pengantin.
Ah, lihat saja sebagaimana digambarkan di buku-buku dengan desain interior yang hebat atau rumah percontohan. Tetapi yang paling penting, tidak bisa ia dapati dalam buku-buku atau rumah percontohan itu.
Nah, di mana orang atau apa yang paling dicintai kita itu berada, disitulah firdaus, tempat yang selalu kita rindukan. Disitu pula tempat di mana kita merasa diri kita paling betah, paling kaya, paling bahagia di dunia.
Kalau pun sedang kurang uang, rumah kayu, rumah bilik bisa menjadi tempat yang paling betah ditinggali. Sofa, bale-bale, tikar pun menjadi paling hangat ditiduri. Ruang kecil sepertinya menjadi luas, sedikit makanan saja sepertinya berlimpah dan menjadi hidangan yang paling lezat.
Coba tinggal, hidup bersama dengan seseorang yang dibenci, yang tidak kita senangi. Di tempat enak pun, rasanya seperti neraka. Makanan lezat serasa pahit, gedung besar sepertinya sempit, makanan sebanyak apapun, sepertinya sedikit, karena tiada lagi tempat, sudut kecil, sesuap nasi pun yang direlakan, disisihkan baginya.
Maka berdoalah agar pasangan pengantin beruntung bisa saling menyayangi sampai usia lanjut. Siapa, apa yang bisa mencegah hati manusia tidak berubah?
Sang Penyair berkata,
Lebih hijau daun-daun menghijau,
Lebih manis rasa manisnya buah-buah,
Lebih cerah, cemerlang suatu hari,
Kala cinta berbicara.
*Diterjemahkan bebas dari
Die Jahreszeiten,Haydn.
Nopember 1997
This is my book. You can read it.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Musing On Weddings
How luxurious the invitation card which could cost as much as a novelette. It’s not mere entertaining a friend or someone in a food stall in Pecenongan, but invite, and entertain hundreds of guests in a grand five star hotel of the city. Dishes of crab, prawn, shrimps, fish, chicken, pork, beef, lamb, many kinds of cakes, pudding, fanta, coca cola, beer, wine, grapes, orange, banana, ice cream, and a special wedding cake-ice cream as wide as a table and as high as the plafond(!).
Too much even to taste all of them and one could eat as heartily as one likes and think of it, it’s free. It’s no wonder that what’s left over as waste on the plates of the guests, possibly could nourish and make happy more than a hundred hungry, poor people.
How sad the fate of tens of flower arrangements as billboards, paraded in the halls instead of seeing their beauty. Then it’s left behind. Only the cards are collected for the purpose to say “thank you”.
Not to say about the presents if one receives four wash machines, ten clocks, dozens of plates, spoons, forks, while just one or a dozen is sufficient. (Remember, this is Indonesia 1994)
A huge sum for the wedding and all the fuss, the headaches about the event .is waylaying the couple Then it slowly dawned on me the words of a song "Love, ... the golden crown, that makes a man a king", not the glitter of the wedding.
I then remembered the venerable sage as told in the Mahabharata who changed himself and his “fairy” into a deer to celebrate their wedding, free from ceremony, guests and far from the bustle of the world; or as Sam Pek and Eng Tay who happily were flying as butterflies together.
And as souvenir,- I might add - which would be remembered, cherished as long as life, not a golden ring, but a child, the most precious jewel of lovers, the gift of the Gods.
Translated from Jayakarta, January 27, 1994
This is my book. You can read it.
Si Bhuta
"Si Bhuta is ‘giring’”, (our pigeon, passionate in love running after its mate). So said my boy to me, though she’s crippled and can’t fly.
Si Bhuta who was bathing happily together in a wash tub, when freed from a far away distance could fly so high that it seemed something tiny flickering in the sun and suddenly dived down home steeply, was shot dead by someone.
The whole family silently sorrowed, wept.
This is my book. You can read it.
Reminiscences of a Marathoner
Well, imagine
the agonies of an aging, graying man to be able to run 42.195 meters; of
waking when still heavy with sleep, of sore feet, blistered toes,
bruised toenails, of parching thirst, in the blazing sun, to build up
the physical condition required.
Making the hellish journey as
pleasant as possible, he starts as early as four o’clock on Sunday
mornings, arriving at six at the outskirts of Jakarta when Nature
awakes, he travels through paths, byways, into a Paradise of the
countryside, of villages, woodland, fields, …
What’s wandering through a
park or traveling comfortably in a car?
Where no city’s bustle
will annoy his ears, then he, a city-man becomes a Child of Nature,
stops or walks slowly to enjoy the song of cicadas, the sounds of
flowing, falling water, the rustling trees, the shade and cool breeze,
delighting, inspiring man again and again.
Where he chanced to
watch two squirrels chasing about in trees. Did you ever chance to see a
squirrel in Jakarta nowadays? What’s seeing a squirrel in a cage or
preserved in a zoological palace of science?
When such delightful
scenery as a lake, a river, a brook or even a creek invites him to take a
dip after running and sweating in the sun.
When no ads and
billboards will catch his eye but a swimming mother duck with lovely
ducklings, or washing; bathing nymphs and beauties; while thirst is
turning water into nectar and wine.
Then, very tired after
traveling, to return, all the way back home, when busses offer him a
heavenly ride just for Rp. 200.- while other heavenly pleasures awaits
him; of drinking juice or just cool water out of the kendi
(earthen drinking vessel), of taking off his shoes and feel the
delightful sensations of walking barefooted on the cool floor, of the
freest, deepest breathing, youthful vigor and keen appetite, then close
the day with a blissful sleep to crown that day’s feast.
And they descend on you in a natural way like a heavenly blessing, or a subtle heavenly reward.
Those
who have never suffered writhing with rheumatism, toothache,
stomachache, gasping for breath by an attack of asthma, keep waking an
eternity by insomnia, don’t realize the heavenly treasures of good
health.
A feeling of gratitude comes with the conviction that even
an aging man without any talent for sport as he is, can still make it.
Which is so encouraging when he feels himself to be too small and of no
significance before, ever to perform this highly improbable feat: to run
the marathon and it has brought him greater self confidence as well as
improved the quality of his life through better health.
Anyone (heaven is impartial) can have a share in these blessings just by exercising their body they like.
Published in The Indonesia Times, August 6, 1988
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
De Rijkste Man
Zie, daar loopt ze, de jamu
verkoopster met haar bakul jamu op de rug. Haar zo grote rijkdom zie ik,
ondanks haar armoedig bestaan.
Ik zelf ben vol rijkdom tot berstens toe:
De rijkdom die mijn ogen opnemen van ergens en overal paradijzen te vinden,
De rijkdom die mijn ogen opnemen van ergens en overal paradijzen te vinden,
van voelen, door in helder. fris, stromend bergwater te stappen en het in je handen op te scheppen,
van haar eeuwig te horen ruisen, murmelen, kabbelen, klotsen, klateren in kali’s, beekjes, slootjes en sawah’s,
van de zuivere, frisse lucht diep in te ademen,
van in een zachte verkwikkende regen je nat te maken met druppels die zo wonderbaarlijk uit de hemel vallen,
van de dauw en de koele grond te voelen op blote voeten,
van een gezonde honger te hebben en te leven.
Daar is de zo grote rijkdom van gezond zijn, van vrij zijn, van iemand te beminnen en wederzijds bemind te zijn,
van de jeugd en van hen op hoge leeftijd met gerijpte gedachten,
van het zorgeloze kind en van hen die moeders werden,
van grenzeloze gedachten en fantasie,
van het mooiste te kunnen schenken en te kunnen ontvangen.
Van …
De rijkste man,
Zonder te arbeiden, heeft hij een groot inkomen,
Bestelen dieven hem, hij wordt niet armer,
Hoe meer hij geeft, hoe meer hij heeft
Hij ontvangt zoveel en hoeft niet te betalen.
Bestelen dieven hem, hij wordt niet armer,
Hoe meer hij geeft, hoe meer hij heeft
Hij ontvangt zoveel en hoeft niet te betalen.
“Hij is een wandelend fortuin!”
Ik meen iemand dit gezegd te hebben. Maar als ik mij vergis dan ben ik het zelf wel of zou het zelf ook gevonden hebben..
1977
This is my book. You can read it.
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