Those Three Months, I Remember

As I was walking down this narrow lane of Perugia
Stepping slowly on cobblestones that were set centuries ago
When all of the sudden I was almost ran down by this blue Vespa
Shocked and surprised, I screamed out foul words until this old Italian lady yelled, “Silenzio!”

She made gesture as if flicking a lamp’s switch off
Continued with another sign :
Sliding her thumb and forefinger across her lips as if shutting a zipper

I definitely got the message, didn’t need to ask her
That was a simple gesture I learned in kindergarten over 25 years ago
When our teacher wanted us to shut up and sit down quietly
Before starting the ritual of saying Lord’s Prayer

Instead I waved my left hand that wasn’t holding the brown umbrella
“Mi scusi, Signora,” said I, and walked away hurriedly
Surprised by my own ashamed feeling of having no guts to face this stern old Italian lady
Oh, I haven’t told you it was raining drizzly that day, eh?

A little trivia : I turned 30 that year
So I decided to give myself a birthday present
It was a 3 months vacation to Italy
The country that gave birth to a grand man
That millenniums later is known universally as an operation technique he was named after

It was surely the most amazing 3 months of my life
Good time partying with young people, citizen of the world
Strolling down traditional market, pocketful of loose changes with no idea what to buy
Flirting using sign language with a beautiful girl whose sad face framed with auburn locks,
Because she doesn’t speak English, and deaf ever since five

I can guarantee you, what a feat it was
Intellectually challenging, such a test to patience
Yet we could still find ways to communicate and
To share this love that knows no boundaries of races, religions or political views

It was the most amazing 3 months in my life
Because I could forget all my worries back home
Leaving them behind, and only have tomorrows to look upon
It was the time when horizon seems far enough, yet within reach

It was still a jolly good time when the last day finally arrived
As I sat down on Leonardo da Vinci airport’s cold steel bench
These random thoughts passing through my mind like cold wind blown from the sea,
“Hope I can return to this magnificent country, which cities are as old as civilization itself,”
“Hope that when I return, I will fall in love all over again with the beautiful life Italy has to offer ..."

“Oh, shoot! Hope I didn’t impregnate that beautiful deaf girl!”

Ah, questa dolce Vita!

Photo illustration courtesy of C.G. Salon in Fayetteville, Georgia, U.S.A.
Used for non-commercial purpose without permission.

Rambut Lego

Semakin panjang rambutku, akan semakin lama waktu yang kubutuhkan di depan cermin setiap pagi, sebelum berangkat keluar rumah. Tujuannya, bukan sekedar kegenitan mematut-matut diri, tapi untuk merapihkan rambut, atau untuk mengaturnya agar tampak sesuai dengan kostum yang dikenakan hari itu. Maksudnya, kalau sekedar pakai t-shirt dan jeans doang, ya dibuat sedikit acak-acakan seperti orang yang baru bangun tidur langsung berganti baju dan keluar rumah, tak mengapa; tapi kalau sedang ada schedule khusus dan musti tampil rapi karena harus bertemu klien atau dinner di tempat-tempat eksklusif bersama pasangan, tentu saja penataannya juga harus disesuaikan.

Namun belakangan ini jarang sekali aku bisa mengatur tatanan rambut sesuai keinginan dengan cepat dan mudah. Masalah utama adalah karena kondisi rambutku yang kering dan kasar, sama sekali bukan tipe yang layak untuk dijadikan model iklan shampoo. Mungkin saja ini akibat pengaruh sejak zaman dahulu kala, selalu berpanas-panas nyaris tak pernah pakai topi ketika sedang melakukan aktivitas di luar ruangan, dan paling malas merawat rambut di salon, karena di kamar mandi pribadi saja benda yang namanya conditioner itu lebih sering tidak ada.

Jadi teringat salah satu foto jaman masih kanak-kanak dulu, rambutku yang ikal (curly & wavy) bila dibiarkan tumbuh panjang akan mengembang sedemikian rupa, sehingga apabila dilihat dari jarak jauh lebih mirip pentul korek api atau seorang anak yang sedang mengenakan helm. Bahkan di awal tahun sembilanpuluhan, ketika sedang berkunjung ke rumah Kakek dan Nenek, salah seorang kerabat jauh mengira bahwa anak kecil yang sedang ribut pukul-pukulan dengan seorang anak lainnya di hadapannya saat itu adalah seorang anak perempuan tomboy, berkat kondisi rambut yang megar mengembang membahana. Padahal anak kecil yang ribut itu aku. Ugh!

Tadi pagi, sebelum akhirnya berangkat menuju kantor, kuputuskan untuk mengatur rambut rapih saja, dengan belahan di samping kanan seperti anak sekolahan atau mereka yang bekerja di sektor formal lainnya, meskipun hari ini sebenarnya aku mengenakan t-shirt dan jeans dan sneakers. Sesungguhnya, a very casual look. Penataan rambut belah samping, sedikit berponi menutupi dahi dan teratur rapih yang seringkali kusebut sebagai model rambut Lego. Dan bila mengingat seperti apa warna aseli rambutku, tentunya gaya rambut seperti ini akan semakin membuatku tampak lebih tua lagi daripada umurku yang sesungguhnya.

Sigh.

Note: image courtesy of squarecircle.

The Pretty Face in Those Stupid YouTube Videos

I saw and walked past a strange looking guy this morning while walking to the office. He looked awful, uncombed hair, wore worn out clothes, has sunburned skin, and unshaven. Simply put, he’s a total mess. He bent down on the sidewalk and wrote on it with a piece of chalk “Effendy”. I don’t know whether he wanted to tell the passerbys his name or else, but obviously, I don’t want to find out.

I saw a strange video in YouTube this afternoon. There’s a young girl in it. Obviously, she recorded the video and uploaded it herself. She also looked like a mess, all teary and runny nose, awfully looking hair. However, one can see that she used to be pretty, even though her sandy colored hair made her look ugly and silly. She started lip-synching to Christina Aguilera’s “Hurt”, which made her cried even more. I noticed in an instant, who she really is. Her recent broke up with his boyfriend already made small ripples in tabloids and gossip shows.

Now, I don’t feel pity or sympathy to that “Effendy” guy, because my mind is too busy thinking about other things. It’s already cluttered with half-baked creative ideas for a pitch for a provider’s new campaign. And come to think of him again, I’m not even half sure that he’s a nut.

As to the the girl in the video? Why should one feel pity towards her? She knew exactly what would come upon her if public watched her videos, yet she still uploaded them to YouTube. The public love to judge others, especially performers and entertainers. And it certainly won’t help being a former child idol, a has been soap opera megastar like you. The public don’t have pity on your “kind”, who we judged as a has been, a used to be, the failed one. You know how much the public is consisted of harsh critics. So when you acting up all like that, we as the public, laughed hard. Everybody loves laughing at losers, your "kind", because that makes us feel better.

My simple advice to you, pretty face in those stupid YouTube videos: cheer up!

I still remember your - supposedly - killer looks while watching the premiere of Sex and The City The Movie, together with your friend Velove. What you really need to get through all this diminishing stardom and subsequent mental breakdown is Mariah Carey. Everyone knows how she had fallen hard from grace, and surprisingly, bounced and made a solid come back. Look at where she is now.

You see, life’s been treating you very well in your childhood and teenage years. Who knows what has been reserved for you in years to come? Just hang on there.

Oh, and one more thing. Never upload other silly videos like the ones you did before this. They’re plain stupid.

Disclaimer: The image above is not the person I'm referring to in this writing.

From Yesterday

I see you coming from Yesterday
Still looking as graceful as I remembered you from your youth
Radiant skin gleaming smiles
And beautiful bangs of hair framed your freckled face

How could I ever forget our first kiss ?
Your lips sweet and wet
But probably it was your perfect lip gloss I tasted

How are you doing now, Darling,
The girl who just arrived from Yesterday ?

OH @ a Hotel’s Lobby

Di suatu siang yang relatif panas akibat garangnya terik sinar matahari untuk standar suhu bulan November yang seharusnya lebih adem daripada saat ini, tapi semua itu tidak terasa sama sekali di area lobby berpenyejuk ruangan sentral di sebuah hotel berbintang lima di seputaran Jakarta Pusat.

Terlihat di salah satu sofa duduklah seorang lelaki yang tampak matang usia dan ramah karena selalu tersenyum dan beberapa kali terdengar tawanya pecah, sedang asyik berbincang dengan seorang perempuan berambut pendek sebahu yang mengenakan pakaian serbahitam, tapi pastinya kalau dinilai dari bentuknya bukan seragam dari kantor manapun.

Lelaki : Eh, jadi nih kita ke Warung Kopi kondang itu?
Perempuan : Ya sudah, hayu’ atuh.
Lelaki (sambil bangkit berdiri dari sofa) : Tapi bentar dulu ya. Gue kebelet pipis nih.
Perempuan (ikut-ikutan bangkit dari sofa) : Oh, kalau gitu kita barengan aja. Kebetulan gue haus nih.
Lelaki (berhenti mendadak) : ... ... Eh ?!?! (lalu tawanya kembali meledak)

Twitterer lazim menyebut pengutipan semacam ini
– dalam versi yang lebih singkat – dengan akronim OH.

His Pair of Angelic Eyes

We were taking a walk along the pond in the park
David and William and Michael and me
It was such a cloudy Sunday afternoon
The leaves on the trees moved and fell with the breezing wind
The birds were busy chirping on the branches of the trees
Yet we still filled the time with our cheerful chatter
When suddenly my gaze struck upon these two people
Standing face to face across the pond away from us

The moment I saw him again,
The one I used to know too well
I couldn’t stop my mind from the memories flowing back
How they hurt just to remember all the good times
Made me wonder whether he felt the same
Will the memories bring back the pain?

And that afternoon I clearly saw him
Holding hands together with this beautiful young girl
And the way he looked at her ...
Boy, it gave me shiver
Because he used to look at me that way

Probably I should walk right up to them and interrupt their conversation
And tell her, “Be careful, girl. It’s a game he likes to play.”

It was Michael who held my arm
Warned me by saying,
“Just don’t. Please.”
While David imbued,
“You have to get him out of your mind.”
And Michael added to it,
“You have to forget everything.”

I knew they had their point
Because once you set eyes upon his pair of angelic eyes
Just one look and you’re hypnotized
You will think you’re in paradise
But one day when you already went deep and it was all too late
You’ll find out for all those times he wears a very good disguise
While his only intention is to take your heart
In the end it’s you who have to pay the price

Still I managed to whisper to the wind
Hoping the breeze will carry it across the pond and drop it to her ear
And right in time she could hear
What I sincerely hope she would never do

“Girl, for whatever reason, just don’t look too deep into his pair of angelic eyes.”

At The Section of Forgotten Toys

At the section of forgotten toys
There is a lonely plastic doll in the form of a little girl
Standing alone inside its original wrapping
Still smiling even though its box are covered with dust and its colors gradually fading

It has been abandoned for almost all of its shelf life
Nobody wants any business with it but a little crippled girl
Who once visited the big toy store along with other similar looking children
Has only one arm, or one leg, or simply can not walk and has to be pushed away in wheelchairs

The little crippled girl picked the box with the plastic little girl doll standing alone inside
Her face gleamed with happiness and smile
“Hey, little pretty doll, how are you doing today?”
“My name is Molly and from now on, I want you to be my friend.”

But a grown up woman’s hand picked the box up from Molly’s hands
And return the plastic little girl doll to the shelf along with other plastic toys,
“Not this one, Molly. Because you are allowed to have a more beautiful doll than this.”
And ushered the little crippled girl away

The lonely plastic doll can not remember how long it stays on its shelf
Until one day a big hairy hand grabbed its box and throw it into the small steely cart
Where it stuck on the top and piled up with other deformed boxes of toys
And pushed away into the little dark room where the lights are seldom switched on
And there’s no blowing breeze from the air condition
Where the lonely little plastic girl doll remains untouched
For days, months and eventually, years

At the section of forgotten toys
There is a lonely plastic doll in the form of a little girl
Standing alone and yet it keeps smiling
Because it still remembers Molly,
The little crippled girl who hand-picked and kissed her box
And told her that she wanted to be her friend
Before she was ushered away

The Most Beautiful Little Girl in The World

“You may find her look weird, but for me, she is the most beautiful little girl in the world.”

I was waiting for Gary at Plaza Senayan last Sunday evening because we want to catch up with one another latest details, i.e. sharing juicy gossips about people we know. Having no idea as where to go while waiting for him to arrive from his home at Wijaya, I decided to go browsing some new books at Kinokuniya.

Saat melewati salah satu rak yang khusus memajang buku-buku photography, pandangan mataku tertumbuk pada sebuah buku which boasting such a grand title: 100 Days in Photographs: Pivotal Events That Changed The World.
Berhubung sejak zaman masih berstatus anak sekolahan, mata pelajaran sejarah dunia entah mengapa seakan memiliki magnet tersendiri buatku, langsung saja buku tersebut kuambil dari rak dan kubuka.
Untungnya, buku tersebut tidak disegel dalam plastik kedap udara. Meskipun para pegawai Kinokuniya tidak pernah keberatan untuk membukakan segel plastik yang membungkus salah satu buku jualan mereka, tapi ada sekelumit rasa segan meminta tolong mereka membukakannya karena aku hanya iseng pengen lihat-lihat buku ini dan sudah pasti hampir pasti 99.99% tidak akan membelinya.

Paragraf pembuka di jaket buku bertutur tentang kekuatan foto yang mampu berbicara ketika mendokumentasikan sejarah manusia pertama yang mencoba berjalan menyeberangi Niagara Falls di atas seutas tambang – dan berhasil. Menarik sekali. Apalagi mengingat konteks sejarah terjadinya peristiwa mendebarkan ini yang lebih dari satu abad lalu.
Mulailah konsentrasiku terfokus untuk menyimak isi buku ini. Beragam banget entry-nya, semua disusun kronologis, mulai dari pembangunan Eiffel Tower, pembunuhan Abraham Lincoln, hijrah Gandhi demi mendobrak monopoli atas garam, korban bom atom Hiroshima, ... hingga satu halaman besar hitam-putih foto seorang pria yang sedang mendekap seorang anak kecil di dadanya.
Kalimat keterangan yang menyertai foto menyebutkan bahwa pria tersebut – dengan nama khas Rusia yang aku tidak bisa ingat lagi – adalah ayah dari seorang anak perempuan kecil yang dalam foto sedang dipeluknya dengan erat. Anak perempuan kecil itu lahir lebih dari satu dekade setelah bencana meledaknya reaktor nuklir Chernobyl.
Membaca kutipan ucapan pria tersebut ketika diwawancarai untuk artikel orisinil yang menyertai publikasi foto tersebut – yang kucoba tulis ulang berdasarkan kemampuan ingatanku di bagian pembuka tulisan ini – membuat seakan-akan jantungku naik ke tenggorokan dan hatiku terasa nyeri karena sakit.

Bayangkan saja, anaknya mengalami cacat permanent akibat terpapar efek radiasi nuklir sejak dalam kandungan, sehingga tidak akan pernah bisa duduk sendiri seumur hidupnya, let alone standing and walking. Tengkorak kepalanya membesar seperti anak-anak penderita hydrocephalus – yang beberapa kali menghiasi pemberitaan media nasional yang disebut-sebut sebagai dampak kelaparan akut negeri ini – dan tubuhnya tampak ringkih seakan-akan tidak bisa ia gerakkan sendiri. Dan terlepas dari segala kekurangan kondisi tubuh si anak perempuan kecil, kedua orang-tuanya, dengan kasih-sayang mereka yang begitu besar, benar-benar mencurahkan segalanya untuk merawat anak mereka itu.

Aku harus mencubit tanganku sendiri untuk mengalihkan terpaan gelombang kesedihan dan rasa haru ketika membaca tulisan tersebut.
You call me oversensitive? I am.

Karena sampai kini aku tidak bisa mengerti mengapa ada orang-tua yang tega melakukan kekerasan kepada anak kandung mereka, darah-dagingnya sendiri.
Waktu kecil, aku juga pernah sekali-dua dipukul oleh Bapak ataupun Ibu. Tapi itu juga karena memang diakibatkan oleh kenakalanku sendiri, misalnya menggunting gorden baru di ruang keluarga sehingga bolong-bolong, memecahkan kaca jendela karena terlalu seru bermain, atau karena ketahuan mencuri uang dari dompet Ibu karena lagi pengen belanja permen. Luapan emosi sesaat orang-tua, sesuatu yang aku anggap wajar saja. They’re no angels. Neither I am. Toh hanya sekali dua saja tangannya mendarat di tubuhku, tidak lebih. Besoknya juga sudah biasa lagi, dan tidak ada juga ’bekas gambar tangan’-nya di badan. Tidak sampai seperti yang belakangan sering diekspos oleh media massa, dimana ada anak yang disundut rokok atau tulangnya patah akibat hal-hal sesepele keisengan anak-anak. Dan syukurlah, apa yang aku alami ketika masih kecil sangat jauh bila dibandingkan dengan kesadisan seperti yang dialami almarhum Arie Hanggara.
All I can say, even when some shortcomings occurred once in awhile, that my childhood was very happy and pretty much content.

Dan mungkin bagi anak perempuan kecil yang berada di dalam dekapan ayahnya di dalam foto itu, hidup masa kecilnya barangkali adalah sebuah kehidupan yang berbahagia dan tidak berkekurangan.
Karena ada cinta dan kasih-sayang kedua orang-tuanya yang tercurah baginya.

If she is not the most beautiful little girl in the world by our “normal” standard, I sincerely hope she’s one of the happiest. By any standard.

Note from writer:
Images shown in this piece of writing are different
from the one which became the base of this writing
that was published in the 100 Days in Photographs book.