I'm back!!

Hi, I'm back!!

Sudah empat tahun sejak terakhir saya mengunggah tulisan. Sudah banyak banget yang berubah. Iseng, saya akhirnya menikah pada 2016 dengan pacar di Bandung. Tak ada pesta kecuali makan-makan di rumah. Kawan-kawan dekat datang, terharu dan malu karena tak ada niat undang-undang.

Baru dua minggu menikah, kontrakan belum ada perabotannya, saya hamil. Kalut, tapi pasrah saja, kami beri nama makhluk mungil di perut saya Shanuka Umar.

Kenapa namanya Shanuka?

Saat tahu hamil, aku tahu anakku akan bernama Shanuka, be it a girl or a boy, karena mamak sudah jatuh cinta dengan bunyi "Sha nu ka" saat diucapkan.

Shanuka adalah bahasa tamil, artinya awal baru yang membawa kebahagiaan, rejeki berlimpah dan kemakmuran. Dan dia memang begitu, sekarang anaknya sudah dua tahun dan sejak lahir sudah jadi awal baru buat saya dan Mamad.

Suami lalu menambahkan nama "Althea" di tengah nama Shanuka Umar, diambil dari nama pentolan grup Sonic Youth, Kim Gordon yang nama tengahnya "Althea".

"Althea itu penyembuh, supaya anak ini bisa nyembuhin jiwaku," kata Mamad, sometime in 2017.

So there she is, my gorgeous kid named Shanuka Althea Umar.

Shanuka Althea Umar (28 mos)

Sejak dilahirkan, Shanu enggak pernah nyusahin. She is such a happy kid with a happy soul.

Since i was pregnant, my only pray is to have a happy kid! Karena kalau jiwanya happy, dia akan bisa melalui semua cobaan hidup dengan mulus, enggak ambeg-an kayak emaknya.

Aku dan Mamad membesarkan Shanuka berdua, bergantian, siang, malam. Sibuk, lelah, sering berantem.

Akhirnya Mamad mengalah dan keluar dari pekerjaan untuk mengasuh Shanuka sambil bekerja seadanya, mulai dari ngojek sampai jualan online.

Entah bagaimana, Shanuka tumbuh sehat dan bahagia, perut kami bertiga tak pernah kelaparan dan segalanya jadi lebih jernih.

Kami mulai memikirkan masa depan.

30

Tahun lalu, seperti biasa, kedua mbakku lupa ulang tahunku dan aku masih merengek-rengek "nagih" ucapan dan doa-doa. Tahun ini, mereka tetap lupa dan aku diam saja.

Cuma ibuk yang menelepon pagi-pagi menanyakan kenapa aku kok enggak pulang lama, aku jawab iya nanti saja.

Tahun lalu pacarku malam-malam datang ke kos bawain bunga mawar, tahun ini dia bilang enggak punya uang dan menawarkan "jasa" sebagai hadiah. Jadi aku suruh-suruh dia mulai dari cuci gelas, beres-beres kos, mijitin sampai jemur kasur dan kasih makan kucing (nope m kiddin!).

Kawan-kawan di kantor tetap baik hati dan mengucapkan "selamat ulang tahun, kapan kawin?"

Temen-temen di grup wasap silih berganti mengucapkan selamat, hari itu iPhone-ku nge-hang. Steve Jobs keburu meninggal sebelum menemukan teknologi anti-panas saking banyaknya grup wasap.

Intinya, in my 30s, I feel blessed. God, thanks I made it!!! I have a wonderful life. 

Djarwati-part I

Ask me who's the toughest living thing alive? I'd say women!

I know many women, not ordinary women. I know the most enduring women, be it from misery or even love.

One of them named Djarwati. She is the strongest character I've known in live. She has been a victim of injustice.

She was born in a poor family in a veryyy remote place very far from the glamorous dreams. Education, for this family is a privilege. Something that must be fight for.

As the eldest kid in the family, and above of all as a WOMAN, Djarwati had to give up her dream  to stay at school.

By the age of 12, she had to work with her dad as a merchant. Going in and out filthy markets around town in order to feed the whole family. Those little feet obediently follow wherever her dad's path.

Those fragile little hands was almost broken lifting very heavy bags with many kind of selling goods inside. Any kind of spices, coffee beans, brown sugars.

Feeding 5 kids, was not easy at that time for the family, so the eldest kid should go out of the house. The eldest kid should help the family. That was a time for the eldest kid to pay back all of the kindest the family had given to her. The eldest kid should marry someone rich. And so Djarwati's dad found a man thru suitors for that very little girl.

At the age of 16, Djarwati married a stranger. A man she never met whose age was 26. A man who never said he love her from the first time they met in wedding bed.

She was the prettiest of all the kids in her town. It was not difficult for suitors to get her a man, the old and rich man because she always dressed nice. Her bright complexions that contrasted her dark soft hair and her slender body is magnet to all eyes.

And so she get married. The clueless Djarwati had to agree to marry a complete stranger in a very early age so that her brothers and sisters could continue to get their education. At that time, her mind was full with questions, why me? what should I do? who is he? why can't I play dolls and kite anymore? and most of all, why I can't go to school anymore? what about my friends?

But, no one had ever answered her questions. Those questions were floating around on an empty air. Those questions were floating around the silent wooden rooms among the crickets songs on after-harvested padi fields near her parents' house.

Djarwati is actually a very smart girl. She may talked loud and harsh, but when she was in school, she had always been in the top rank. Even her body was small for kids her age, she outranked most kids in her village, in class and in many games.

That gift was still in her even after she was married. Her husband was unemployed. He bought food to eat, cigarettes and liquors and gambling with his rich family's money.

Djarwati never got money from her new husband. She was smart, she decided to sell food near their little bleak house. The house was happened near a hospital so many visitors come and buy.

First year of marriage, first daughter was born. She was pretty as her mom. Smart as her mom. Brave as her mom. Nothing resembled the father.

That little girl was so helpful. Since the age 2, she helped her mom in the food stall. She was a quite girl. Never cried even her mom got busy in kitchen and food stall serving all the buyers, including those flirtatious truck drivers who happened to stop near hospital. One day, a full cola bottle crates fall down on her while she was sleeping on a small space among the foods ingredients. Blood came streaming down from her eyebrows, but she didn't cry a tear.

Meanwhile the father continued his habit to drink liquors and play gamble. without job, he didn't get the money.He never cared for the baby. He never know what kind of accidents had happened to his child.

His family was fed up giving him money. Knowing his wife's business was growing good, he came to her asking her money. Money he never deserve.

She refused giving. She said the money is for the little daughter to go to school someday. She needed the money to feed the family. She needed the money to buy food ingredient to be sold tomorrow. Her husband was furious. He beat her cruelly.

After all, she was pregnant with second kid. He never accept NO as an answer. When he ask money he did not deserve, he beat her. He beat the daughter.

On the bright day on early April, The second baby was born. She looked alike the father but sweet. She had the prettiest smile and friendliest eyes.

The story got worsen when Djarwati's siblings were growing up. Djarwati's parents were getting old and selling business was not good at that time. So the other kids had to ask money to their eldest sibling.

Djarwati was running out of energy, running out of money, running out of love.

At that kind of situation, the third kid was born. She was born on gloomy rainy day on October. She was the ugliest. She was not look like mother or father. Very thin and sickly.

Could not help the beating and contiguously asked for money by her family, Djarwati reached her limit.

She ran out of the house. Leaving that 40 days old baby. Leaving all of her troubles behind to big city. She ran out to catch her dream. She ran out to have her own time.

She was free.. finally..

Doing happy

Bahagia, menurut KBBI adalah kata benda. Bahagia adalah keadaan atau perasaan senang dan tenteram (bebas dari segala yang menyusahkan).

Does that kind of condition really exist? 

Well, kalau secara harfiah diterjemahkan mentah-mentah, mungkin bahagia itu tidak ada. Yang ada hanyalah penyesuaian-penyesuaian agar setidaknya kita merasa sedikiiiit saja jadi bahagia.

Happines, as a noun, I think is elusive. 

Coba kalau bahagia itu dijadikan kata kerja saja. That would be an endless effort to achieve happines as a noun, and that is so rewarding process!

*bingung kan lau? Gw juga bingung nih*

Inti na mah, bahagia itu kalau dijadikan angan-angan da susah atuh dijalani. Bahagia mah kelakuan, perwujudan dari apa yg lo rasain.

Daaan, ukuran bahagia buat orang-orang itu beda-beda. Which is such a shame, perbedaan kadar ini, seringnya dipake oleh orang-orang yang mulutnya usil buat jadi dewa-dewa moral dan ahli kehidupan.

I'm almost 30, and I've been acting out like I know shits!! Padahal gw bahkan gak tahu apa yang diingini diri ini.

I just wanna DO happy, man!! In early 20's, it really does matter with whom I will be happy with.

But in almost 30, then I reallize, the most important thing is, how I will be happy! Dengan siapa, itu sudah tidak penting lagi. What a weird my heart is.

Bisa dibilang agak self-centered sih, tapi nyatanya begitu. The older u get, the more selfish u will be, hahahaa..

Intinya adalah, jadikan bahagia sebagai kata kerja!! Jangan kata benda!! Kata kerja biasanya lebih aktif sedangkan kata benda bisa pasif. 

Tidak peduli seberat apa beban hidup yang sedang ditanggung, kalau bahagia adalah kata kerja, maka rasanya akan ringan. Because I do happy!!!

Friends too clingy and I'm too-so-not-like-confrontation

Sampai batas apa seorang atau sekelompok teman boleh mendobrak batasan-batasan hidup kita?

Pertanyaan-pertanyaan tentang kehidupan pribadi kita yang dibalut dengan nada mengadili lembut atas nama "kepedulian" untuk kemudian membicarakanmu di belakang, apakah itu wajar?

Pertemanan, menurut saya, bukanlah agen khusus yang harus tahu ini itu. Teman adalah orang yang tahu, dan seharusnya tahu tanpa diberi tahu, kapan temannya butuh privasi. Kalau tindakan fisik dengan mundur dari kelompok masih dirasa kurang eksplisit menyampaikan pesan itu, saya tidak tahu entah apa yang bisa..

Tidak selalu, bersama-sama itu membuat nyaman, dan menjadi terbuka untuk hal-hal tertentu kadang-kadang bukan pilihan yang mengenakkan.

Itu sebabnya, mungkin, saya menjadi seorang escapist (for some reason). Saya gak suka konfrontasi karena menurut saya itu malah jadi tanda bersetuju dengan apa pun yang dipikirkan orang tentang saya. The theory is, the more u defense ur self, the more u likely are as what they say about u.

Seorang teman yang openly declared dirinya tidak menyembah Tuhan mana pun pernah menasihati begini : "misterius adalah kekuatan. Jangan pernah serahkan hidupmu seperti buku yang halamannya terbuka mudah dikoyak-koyak"

Somehow, in spite of everything, gw sangat setuju dengan ucapannya.

Saya bukan tipe orang yang mau berprasangka mengait ngaitkan agama dengan moral, tapi kalau begini ceritanya, orang tidak beragama kok malah punya moral dan etis.

Sekarang, saya adalah daun musim gugur. Melayang ke sana ke mari ke mana arah angin berhembus, tapi enggan singgah di satu dahan atau sepetak permukaan bumi terlalu lama karena angin musim gugur masihlah begitu hangat.

Basuki Tjahaja Purnama - Ahok

This post will be different from other posts I've done previously. Why? Because it definitely is not ALL about me.

It's about someone else who I used to not very familiar with, but then due to my profession, I need to get to know him, and be verrryyy close with him every single day, perhaps.

About 8 months ago (or so, I don't quite remember) I started to get deployed to cover up all reports on The Jakarta City Hall or popular as Balaikota. Then off I go!

Before I got there, I had this big piling up nightmare in my head that I had to deal with some boring and complicated issues to write down about all the tangled threads problems in Jakarta. And yep, that was sooo right! When I first got there, I didn't understand any single words they talk about.

They talked about monorail project, Kartu Jakarta Pintar, river's revitalization, all sounded like alien language to me.

Well that seems pretty common for all newbies in anywhere. But in my case, I was really not interested. That was all too boring for me to adjust. Then time went by. I started to felt welcomed. Not by the topic of the issues I had to write but by fellow journalists who posted there. They are all fun people! And kind too, they helped me a lot with my work.

Working in City Hall, journalist have two options whether to cover The Governor Jokowi or The Deputy Jakarta Governor Basuki “Ahok” Tjahaja Purnama. Me, particularly whenever I was not in the mood or when I felt tired, I will prefer to cover Ahok because I don't need to push my assoff chasing Jokowi while he was on "blusukan" day.

Being with Ahok, I just need to sit in press room nicely (which is not real a press room, it was initially a meeting room for the vice governor that we *journalists* invade while we are waiting for Ahok to appear to get door-stopped-interview). Mostly, while we were waiting Ahok to come out of his office, we used to browse the current news to get freshly-written issues, chit-chat, take selfies or you-tubing, or order foods.

Ok, now how is Ahok in real life in the eyes of me?

Hilarious

Yes, that was my first impression about him when I first knew him in person. Ahok is hilarious in a way he can dodged the answers for the questions we ask him in a witty and rude-y way (almost like the answers of street man). 

It was something you really don't expect coming out from a state official. But somehow, that is the real voice of people outside. Ahok said it well, true and innocent. For example, when we ask Ahok's opinion about shocking incident of ammunition explosion from the Marines depot in Tanjung Priok on March 6, Ahok innocently replied: "That's why, don't keep old ammunition, Boss!" Ahok said the military should get rid off the old ammunition and weapons from a long time ago and make revitalization instead of keeping the old ones. Ahok *off the record-ly questions what they did with the money*

As an Indonesian state official, Ahok in fact had plenty of "bullshits" options to respond to media's question regarding that incident, in order to elevate his image in front of people and save his position in front of his superiors, but NO! He said what he thought he needed to say, to anyone, anywhere.

I'm a merely newbie reporter, what do I know? but to me that's interestingly witty.

Another example is when Ahok accused home minister don't understand about the Constitution. He said to all journalists to tell the home minister he should learn more about the [1945] Constitution as The Home Minister Gamawan Fauzi suggested Lenteng Agung subsudistrict head Susan Jasmine Zulkifli, who had faced protest from a small portion of residents because she was a Christian, should be replaced.

Ahok argued that only 52.7 percent of Jakartans voted for him and Jakarta Governor Jokowi, meaning almost 4 million people did not vote for them. But that did not mean they must step down because they were disliked or rejected by the majority.

“If those four million people protested in front of City Hall and demanded our resignations, would the home minister consider replacing us? Would we be not suitable to govern Jakarta?” he said.

Ahok who is Christian said that government officials should comply with the Constitution, not their constituents.

Well, about those two example maybe you all guys have read on newspapers or online news media, but here are the fact about Ahok you might don't know:

1. He is the one who told us, journalists, if we want to get new cell phones, we got to drop our cell phone while interviewing him, and so he will change it with the new and expensive one. But that was a joke, even he kindly offered that we know the boundaries.

2. He was so caring with others.

He always asked his assistants to check whether we already had meals while waiting for him outside his office. If we said we haven't had eaten, he will get us food.

3. He like to celebrate our birthday!

Once, my fellow journalist is having a birthday and so he get her a big birthday cheesecake (Rp500.000). When we accused he bought that cake with regional budgets, he shrugged off and said that was his private operational cost.

"That was my operational cost, I can use it for anything I like," he said that time.

And because this birthday girl is a big fan of one of the officials in DKI, Ahok tried to get him to come celebrate the birthday in his office. But unfortunately that official couldn't make it. So to paid off, Ahok put on peci and sarung in order to looked like that official.

"How do I  look? Am I look like him already? You get to click me from aside so that I look like him" he said to us.

hujan, pindahan, and stuff

Jakarta sudah terlalu sumuk buat saya, akhirnya setelah melalui pemikiran yang panjang dan beberapa kali perdebatan yang serius dengan pacar saya, akhirnya saya pindah ke Tangerang. Yes, sejauh itu. Awalnya perjalanan komuter menggunakan motor dengan dibonceng setiap pagi membuat saya kelelahan dan seringnya cranky lalu ambeg-ambeg-an, tapi good thing is, I had more space to explore me time.

Malam pindahan hujan deras bahkan banjir, saya naik taxi sedangkan pacar naik motor. I remembered how I cried in a cab along the way thinking my boyfrnd was stuck in heavy pouring.

Saya sampai duluan tapi gak tahu mana kontrakannya. Karena semua yang mengatur pindahan is my boyfriend. How weird. Namun, pacar segera tiba. Basah kuyup. I cried again.

Malam pertama saya tidur kedinginan tanpa kasur. Untung sempat bawa karpet dari rumah. Hiks... That was the lowest turn in my life.

But then... Things r getting upsides downs. Saya overwhelmed dengan jarak dan waktu. Lalu memutuskan kembali ke Jakarta. Hahhaa, nyali komuter saya rupanya hanya tahan tiga bulan😏

Happy birthday to me

Menjadi 28 tahun, bukanlah suatu peristiwa yang sering terjadi di kehidupan seseorang, it's one in a life time miracle.

Iya, ini keajaiban. Menjadi 28 tahun merupakan keajaiban bagi saya. Yang dulu tidak pernah menyangka akan bisa hidup selama ini.

Hahaha, I used to imagine that I would die in my early 20's, LOL.

Why? because, I think I'm the unhappiest individual on earth. Teori saya, orang yang tidak bahagia biasanya mati cepat. Sekali lagi referensinya adalah tokoh-tokoh dunia, Anne Frank, Emily Bronte, Shakespearre dan banyak lagi. *dangkalnyaaaa*

Tapi rupanya tidak, alhamdulillah Alloh punya rencana lain. Saya diberi hidup sampai usia ini untuk akhirnya banyak-banyak bersyukur.

Mengetahui misi saya hadir di muka bumi dan mencoba melakukan apa saja untuk berbuat sebaik-baiknya demi orang-orang yang saya kasihi.

Alhamdulillah di usia 28 tahun keluarga saya masih utuh. Ibu masih diberi umur panjang meski hobi keluar masuk rumah sakit. *hari ini rencananya Beliau keluar dari RS setelah lima hari indekos di St Borromeus gara-gara serangan jantung*.

Mbak Kris tambah sehat, ini berkolerasi dengan berat badannya, hahaha.. Dan kami punya anggota keluarga baru, A Komar, suami Mba Zeni.

Dan tentu saja, sumber inspirasi saya, jerapah kesayangan yang selalu ada di samping saya.

Menertawakan kepincangan sosial yang tertangkap mata naif kami dan kadang-kadang bengong menerawang saat sama-sama mendengarkan lirik dan musik menggetarkan dari Nirvana.

Kami saling mempengaruhi. Seperti magnet yang berbeda kutub, ada hal-hal yang membuat kami saling ingin meninggalkan, tapi pengaruh yang kami berikan satu sama lain sudah mengikat.

Saya tidak tahu, Gusti Alloh mau memberi waktu berapa lama pada kami, toh hidup ini cuma sebentar..

"Carpe Diem!"

Nikmati hidup di hari ini, hargai apa yang kamu punya saat ini, tidak usah payah-payah mikir besok mesti apa dan bagaimana.

Gusti, kalau pun saya mesti mati besok, saya sudah rela. Terima kasih telah begitu percaya hingga memberi hidup pendek yang penuh warna ini.

Saya memang jarang merapalkan doa mengaduh padaMu, tapi apalah saya ini harus selalu mengeluhkan hidup yang sudah indah ini.

Tapi kalau memang benar adanya, saya minta diberi kesempatan untuk terus bersama-sama orang yang saya kasihi, dan tentunya balik mengasihi saya.

PS: the cutest thing someone has ever given to me on my b'day was giving me coupons that i can chased with any free orders from him, haha.. thank u gondrong XOXO

Bangka once upon a time

I must say, I'm lucky to have people who care me so much. One of them even willingly to do almost everything for me, including to fly up across the sea to help me move out from Bangka back to Jakarta. So here are our cute pictures.

His first gesture arriving at Pasir Padi beach, Bangka

My favorite dish in Bangka; kwe tiaw with shrimp

His first ever Bangka black coffee

Our sunset-ey first pic together, hold up, there will be thousands more to come :P

Bye bye tin island!

piggy back back back!

The clear sky on the day I left Bangka

sweaty happy day

"where's my coins?"

It is what it is.

Kami pernah keren!

So this was inspired by a story my boyfriend told me once, he said he was surprised on a day he found an old picture of his mom and dad being so cool in their young age, the mom and the dad were so hip at that time. His mom wearing a sleeveless party gown looked so happy dancing with his dad.

Then I said to my boyfriend, "I don't want my kids someday to be like you, I don't want they surprised to know that their parents once also have ever been so happy and merry."

So, long story short, I pushed my boyfriend to take as many pitures shot as he can put up with last nite. And so here we goes, kids, we too have ever been so cool!

I know this is too much public display of affection but I intentionally published this for my own pleasure, hehe.. So, haters will hate, pukers will puke, and I will continue posting LOLlll

Normal is perfect!

My theory of perfect life is the normal one. I know I used to say normal is boring and stuff.. But deep down in my heart, normal promises steadiness. It provides long lasting relationship that I want. But some people just don't get it. I need to tell it again and again.

Obsolote technology

The last time I made use floppy disk, or diskette was when I on my first year of university days.. *if I'm not miscounting*. Well, those are really good old days with I carrying two or three diskettes whenever I need to gather sources from the internet and read them at home in my huge computer.

To think back again, will my future kids have this kind of nostalgia when they grow up. If they do, how would it be? Would the conversation they have be like this: "Oh, do you remember how we used to use I Phone to text with our fingers?" 

Damn you later generations!! even now I could not afford one!! Huh!!

And so I told myself ..

 

Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours, to see!

Oh, Jens Lekman.. u have stolen my heart!!!

I've been always thinking that quirky, slightly nerd, and underdog type of guys are always hotter than jock or rock and roll stars. My list for those "strange-ly brilliant" dudes are like Jens Lekman, Ben Gibbard, James Mercer of The Shins, Kurt Cobain *he's a slightly quirky than a rock star to me*, Jonas Bjerre.. I have ever put the list down on my previous post.

In this post, I would like to especially talking about Jens Lekman. He's brilliant!! He has a knack to put simple words in his song to finally produce complicated effect to every listener. His lyrics are witty. It sounds charming and cheerful but most of the time the lyrics are dark and suicidal. 

For those who want to hear one of the songs, here is the example:

I really want this in my wedding!!!

Bubbline

This is the cutest Marceline and Bubblegum drawing ever!

Lady Lazarus adalah puisi yang menimbulkan kesan kuat setelah saya membacanya. Puisi ini ditulis oleh seorang wanita luar biasa kelahiran Boston, Massachusetts di era 30-an.

Kekuatan puisi ini terletak pada, tema, tentu saja! Dan imaji mistis pada setiap diksi yang digunakannya.

Lady Lazarus

  by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap, 
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

23-29 October 1962
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15292#sthash.QkDGXI8M.dpuf

Lady Lazarus

  by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap, 
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

23-29 October 1962
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15292#sthash.QkDGXI8M.dpuf

Lady Lazarus

by Sylvia Plath  

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
23-29 October 1962

Secara keseluruhan, puisi ini tentang bunuh diri, si wanita menganggap kematian layaknya sebuah seni, seperti yang lain-lain. Dan dia melakukannya dengan sangat bagus, setiap kali dia mencoba bunuh diri, rasanya seperti nyata dan mudah baginya.

Dalam puisi, si wanita sudah mencoba bunuh diri dua kali, pertama saat 10 tahun dan itu tidak sengaja. Yang kedua dia memang niat bunuh diri.

Diksi dalam puisi ini membuat karya Plath terdengar sangat rumit, kelam dan brutal. Stanza-stanza awal saat dia menggambarkan keadaan sekarat sangat terus terang dan tanpa malu-malu membuat pembaca miris sekaligus hanyut dalam mistis imagery yang digunakannya.

Plath menggambarkan sekaratnya sebagai mukjizat dengan kulit seterang kap lampu Nazi, kakinya yang selunglai kertas, dan wajahnya sepasi linen yahudi.. damn, that's so beautiful!!

lensa feminis

Sebenarnya, puisi ini bisa dimaknai lebih luas lagi melalui lensa feminis.Puisi ini mendemonstrasikan perjuangan wanita atas kemandiriannya di tengah-tengah masyarakat patriarkal. Puisi ini pernyataan Plath atas terampasnya kreativitas dia oleh dunia patriarkal.

Tapi Plath berhasil mengalahkannya saat dia dilahirkan kembali seperti tertuang jelas dalam stanza;  Out of the ash/ I rise with my red hair/ And I eat men like air.

Lady Lazarus

  by Sylvia Plath

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap, 
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

23-29 October 1962
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15292#sthash.QkDGXI8M.dpuf

Massachusetts

Massachusetts

Massachusetts

Massachusetts

Massachusetts

Massachusetts

being a friend or friendly?!

Ini adalah quote terbaik yang saya dengar selama minggu-minggu panjang saya menonton drama serial di StarWorld;

“There is a difference between being a friend and being friendly."

Chloe dan teman perkemahan anak psikopat-nya, Teddy.

Quote itu dikatakan Chloe dari serial Don’t Trust the B—— in Apartment 23. Ironisnya, Chloe adalah karakter gadis pecandu alkohol yang doyan pesta dan memiliki moral seperti perompak. Dia tipe gadis jahat yang suka mem-bully gadis-gadis dan gay. Pokoknya, Chloe bukanlah tipe sahabat yang manis yang akan dipilih para gadis.

Tapi, apa yang diucapkannya pada June Colburn, si gadis rumahan dari Indiana yang merasa tidak beruntung karena menjadi teman sekamarnya, sangatlah benar.

Menjadi seorang teman berbeda dengan menjadi ramah. Menjadi teman berarti kita siap mengatakan hal-hal yang buruk pada orang-orang yang kita sayangi meski mereka tidak mau mendengarnya. Sedangkan menjadi ramah kita hanya mengatakan yang hal yang manis-manis agar orang menyukai kita.

Sayangnya, setelah dipikir lagi.. saya selama ini mirip June. Saya seringnya sugar-coating facts hanya agar orang-orang menyukai saya. Menjadi mean girl memang kadang-kadang perlu, agar kita bisa punya teman yang sebenarnya, tapi..

Kehidupan nyata memang berbeda dengan cerita sinetron. Di sinetron, meski Chloe adalah gadis jahat yang suka blak-blakan, tapi orang-orang masih sayang padanya. Tapi dalam realitas, gadis seperti dia akan habis, setidaknya habis diomongin orang.

I'm not lost, I just took the road less travelled!!

Hingga saat ini, saya masih takjub dengan cara-cara tak terduga Tuhan dalam melarikkan kisah hidup masing-masing hamba-Nya, termasuk saya. Setahun yang lalu, mana saya tahu kalau saya bakal kembali ke Jakarta setelah sekian lama larut dalam ketidakberuntungan *yang sebenarnya diciptakan oleh pemikiran saya sendiri* selama satu tahun lebih satu bulan ini.

Tapi, bagaimana pun, saya amatlah bersyukur atas skenario Tuhan. Tuhan memberi saya kesempatan menyekolahkan mental dan psikologi saya di tempat yang benar-benar asing sehingga saya harus bertopang pada kedua kaki saya sendiri.

Oscar Wilde pernah mengatakan "pengalaman adalah kata yang kita beri pada kesalahan2 kita", "Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes", meski saya hampir selalu setuju dengan ide-ide nyleneh sastrawan era Victorian ini, tapi kali ini, saya tidak.

Pengalaman bukan kesalahan. Pengalaman hanyalah jalan setapak yang jarang dilewati. Kita melewatinya, kita tahu apa yang ada di sana, dan kita bisa mengambil keputusan atas itu. 

Robert Frost tahu benar tentang ini dan dia membingkainya dalam sebuah gubahan puisi indah, The Road Not Taken, Jalan yang Tidak Dilewati

Dua jalan yang bercabang di hutan kuning,
Sayang, aku tidak bisa menempuh keduanya
Sebagai pengembara, aku berdiri lama
Memandang ke satu jalan sejauh aku bisa
Jalan yang berkelok di semak belukar;

Lalu melihat jalan yang lain, sama bagusnya,
Dan mungkin malah lebih baik
Karena terlihat segar dan menarik
Meski sudah terlewati manusia
Hampir sama seringnya

Dan pagi itu keduanya terbentang
Dengan hamparan daun yang belum terinjak jejak langkah
Oh, aku simpan saja yang pertama untuk hari lain!
Meski tahu semua jalan menuntun ke sebuah arah
Aku ragu akan pernah kembali.

Aku akan menuturkannya sambil mendesah
Di suatu tempat berabad-abad mendatang:
Dua jalan bercabang di hutan, dan aku,
Aku mengambil satu yang jarang dilalui orang
Dan itu telah membuat perbedaan besar

Hasbi-allahu la ilaha illa Huwa 'alaihi tawakkalt

Cukuplah Allah bagiku. Tidak ada Tuhan selain Dia. Hanya kepada-Nya aku bertawakal dan Dia adalah Tuhan yang memiliki Arsy yang agung.

Bismillah saja lah..

Unbearably suffered

This feeling is unbearable..

I really want to shout to the world that he is mine, but the time is yet to come. There are still many things to be solved so I need to be more and more and more patient.

dan lalu ..

dan lalu..

satu-satu.. semuanya menjadi baik

saya bukan orang paling optimis di muka bumi ini, tapi saya selalu percaya Tuhan baik, dan dia akan sebaik prasangka kita..