in loving memory of loving you

Their long awaited trip had finally come. They knew they’d have so many things they wanted to see there, but they forgot to include each other in the list. Little did they know that they’d spend more time refusing to let go of each other more than anything else they did that day. It didn’t really matter too, how many people who were there. As long as they had each other, it was always okay, always more than enough—everything there were theirs. The sneaky kisses, the warm embraces, the short whispers; everything were theirs. And there could never be too much I love yous.

And amidst the long silences, their hands intertwined. When they had nothing to say, they would stare into each other’s eyes, before bursting out in light giggles. He felt that they had known each other for a really long time, as if three years isn’t long enough. Whereas she felt that those pair of eyes looked so familiar, then thought to herself, “Gosh, I love this person so much. And he loves me as much as I do, too.” They were both glad they had each other. It almost felt like falling in love for the first time once more.

“I wish this would last forever,” he said, as he pressed her hand against his cheek. “I’ve never felt so much love before.”

She smiled. She too, wished things would just stay this way. She too, had never felt this way before. She couldn’t really comprehend why; maybe it’s the familiarity, maybe it’s the reciprocity. Or maybe… it’s just him.

But alas, as much as she believed they could still be okay in the end, there was no way they’d get out of this happily. The only options left were to get hurt or to be sad.

She wasn’t really sure of how she felt in the end. She knew that she chose to be sad, for no one had to get hurt, and no one had to bear the guilt of hurting someone. He said he was sad, too, obviously for different reasons, but he was just better at dealing with it. He was too used to falling out of love. But then again, she wasn’t really sure of how he felt in the end, too. Was he hurt (too)? Was he angry (too)? Were they actually okay? Everything had always been uncertain for them; a proper closure was the last thing one would expect.

“Just live with it,” he said. As we both should, she murmured to herself.

Things weren’t alright, or at least, that was what she thought. The hearts were heavy and feelings were weary; everything felt hard to comprehend, as if they were to sink her deep into a certain endless void. She started having second guesses, if this was something right to do from the very start, but she hated mourning over her decision. Even when he once assured her that it was going to be worth it.

In the end, she was still not sure of many things. But one thing she knew all along was that when it came to him, she’d never want to put things on stakes. Even in another world or another life, he’d always matter—and she’d always wish him well.

actually, I prefer coming of age stories

This one might start off a bit weird. Last week, I got the chance to talk about quarter life crisis in a webinar. It was the first time I got to speak to a large audience after I graduated, and (not so) surprisingly I felt like it was harder to bear. I mean… the title behind your name holds another responsibility. It’s like… you’re somehow considered an “expert” in a way once you got your degree. You sound better than an undergraduate student, and you need to take responsibilities of whatever you speak out in public (until this moment, I still can’t fathom how people are able to easily speak about anything even when they’re not knowledgeable enough about it. I mean, I’ve studied for 4 years and I just feel dumber every waking hour… and I always feel like I need to watch out more of what I say and make sure I say the legit stuffs). So, in order to tackle these feelings, I dig more about quarter life crisis. I browsed and read some journal articles–I haven’t done that voluntarily in a while and honestly it felt great??? (no judgement here… just the love of learning kicking in HAHAHA)

Honestly, this quarter life crisis topic hits real close to home. And that fact surprisingly doesn’t make things easier for me. I thought, since it’s relatable for me, I’d be able to emphatize better with the participants, thus I’d be able to convey the message better. But really… it didn’t happen that way. It felt hard, maybe because it’s happening to me, and it’s not a nice feeling. Recalling all that stuffs makes me want to run away from them. But it needed to get done. And I got it done!

It took me a while, after reminiscing about the series of events that happened to realize that quarter life crisis itself kind of reminds me of another similar topic: coming of age. This thought came after I watched My Girl (1991) just recently this week. It’s been on my watch list for a while and I’m glad I made myself watch it (I’m not a big fan of movies. Weird, I know). I love it. I don’t know exactly why. I think it’s partly from the 70s setting. Or maybe from the wholesome friendship between Vada and Thomas J., since I’ve always found the concept of different sex friendship interesting (and perhaps, the possibilities around it as well). Or maybe… just largely the idea of coming of age which is the main theme of the movie. These kinds of movie don’t necessarily need a “main goal” to propel the story, they just go with the flow. We’re basically just brought to witness how the main character’s life unfolds, with several important moments highlighted, some character development, and that’s that. And I was highly entertained by it.

Now that I think of it, I’ve watched quite many coming of age themed movies. I greatly enjoyed The Baby-Sitters Club (2020) and I think it’s cool that I managed to finish watching an entire series. I enjoyed Umi ga Kikoeru (1993) too. And I’ve also told the world several times that I loved Little Women. It’s funny when I realized I actually enjoy watching the conflicts and whatnots of being a teenager, since being a teenager means dealing with some seemingly very childish issues. And I don’t like facing childish issues. Of course they’re considered as childish once you’re an adult; when you were a teenager, those were a big deal. Don’t forget about the angsty stuffs you used to get yourself in too, the whole nobody-understands-me drama.

I think, coming of age stories are also seen differently across cultures. When you take a look at Western movies, coming of age is mostly described as a phase when one transitions from a child to a teenager (or maybe this is just my references). The first of many things–menstruation, childhood sweetheart, loss, etc. While Japanese movies (and manga) usually center around the dynamic of high school life. You’re a teenager already, and you’re faced with many things as you walk into adulthood. Another distinct feature is that, the Japanese media usually portray teenagers learning about life by themselves–taking notes from their friends, mostly. Whereas the Western usually involve adult figures (or familial figures) who will “guide” the character throughout their journey. Maybe the difference is due to the different age range as well, but I think each of them is an interesting take on coming of age.

The real question now; how does quarter life crisis remind me of coming of age? They’re two totally different situations. They obviously happen at different times in your life. But I think, both of them are comparable in a way. Both of them involve a certain degree of crisis. It’s just… the way things rolling out that are different. Coming of age is more about exploring more possibilities in your life. It’s about learning to deal with something that’s once strange to you. You’re confused, but you’re excited. But quarter life crisis is… pure crisis… it’s more about feeling trapped and scared of what’s yet to come. You’re somehow less excited about growing up. You’re being hit by the bitter truth of reality. And often times, you don’t want to take that dose of bitterness in life.

Another difference… just like what I’ve mentioned before, coming of age stories usually have these “adult figures”. I like to refer to them as “cool” adult characters who seemed like they never forget how it’s like to be a teenager so they can gently knock the window through the main character’s heart. This could be anyone–their parents (if they’re lucky enough), weird neighbor, teacher, trustee librarian, some random person they meet during the weirdest time in life, or in some cases, their soon-to-be stepparents. This “mentor” figure would usually help the main character to deal with life. While during quarter life crisis… you’ll usually struggle alone. Or with your friends (so it’s troubled people helping out other troubled people HAHAH). Well, you might learn something from… the Internet. Or somewhere else. But you have to get it by yourself, you can’t really have someone to be there and teach you about life and boom, suddenly all the problems seem so far away. That’s one very realistic way to see adulting, I think.

I know many quarter life crisis themed movies and series have started to emerge. I’ve almost never watched them, actually. And to be frank, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed watching something about quarter life crisis. I thought I would enjoy it, though… or at least, I would benefit from watching it since most of the time, coping with this so-called early adulthood crisis is really hard and I feel like I need a hand. But instead of doing that, I find comfort in coming of age stories. I wonder if I’m actually regressing to a previous stage in my life to cope with this crisis…

I honestly still think it’s weird for me to choose to run away from something that’s relatable. Maybe, I learn that relatable things don’t always comfort you, sometimes they attack you (since they’re too close to you). Even when it’s uncomfortable, it’s not that it’s unmanageable, though. One of the major takes in my previous webinar is that quarter life crisis can be seen differently. Crisis can actually play the role as a trigger to make you reconsider things in your life, thus motivating you to rethink your decisions, as well as getting you to learn about yourself more. Crisis can be a waking call. Quite the same thing happened too during your coming of age, but perhaps, quarter life crisis is just less exciting. It’s okay to lose excitement (it sucks anyway!). But it’s manageable. And the choice is all yours.

(I’d still choose coming of age stories, though. I’m not still really sure why, but at least I know they’re more fun.)

P.S. I haven’t written anything in a while, so it’s hard to get these out of my mind. But this actually feels good.

as I grow up, I realize that actually I don’t identify myself as Jo March, but…

I grow up reading Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. It’s one of my all-time favorite series (yes, it has several installments!); for me, it just gets better every time I read it. It feels like I always learn something new about the universe. I don’t experience this kind of feeling often, I think… the last book to ever give me this feeling is Totto-chan: The Little Girl at The Window (Tetsuko Kuroyanagi). And I can’t recall anything else, honestly.

I don’t think I read the “original” copy, because mine is a graphic novel version (it has both narration and comic inside) crafted especially for children by a local publisher, and of course has been translated to Bahasa. While for the first sequel, Good Wives, I managed to get a copy that is quite close to the original one, even though it’s translated as well. And lucky me, for the two last sequels, Little Men and Jo’s Boys, I got the original copies (in a much, much, cheaper price as well…)! I’m still finishing them, so I don’t have much to say about them, but as far as I know, I’m enjoying every pages of it.

I think, it’s really understandable that as a teenager, almost everyone thinks that out of the four March sisters–Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy–they resonate the most with Jo. Well, I too, was a part of that almost everyone. And it wasn’t a hasty decision. We used to share the same fondness of literature, despise for traditionally feminine clothes, wish to defy almost all societal norms that require us to behave in such constructed manner that is not-so-like ourselves, hate of small talks, level of egocentricity, idealism, and the list can go on…

Jo March is obviously the main character of the whole installments, and I’m fully aware that she is crafted to represent, to embrace all the qualities many young women (especially, the target readers of the book) have, which they are not really comfortable in expressing vocally since most of them are against the traditional gender role. And as I know better about the author herself, she was also said to design Jo’s character mainly based on herself (well, all of these kinda make sense, right). But, what I didn’t really notice back then, is how Jo tended to overshadow the other March girls. How many of Jo’s antics were depicted as understandable and reasonable, and how it seemed like only Jo’s ideas matter, just because they are revolutionary, they are relatable for many people. If you only read Little Women, most likely, these are the image of the other March sisters that you have in mind: Meg, the one who choose to stick to the traditional gender role, the mature one who’s down to marry for the sake of love and be a good housewife; Beth, the quiet music prodigy who’s always selfless for everyone, the one who’s so weak that she seems like she’s about to die anytime; and Amy, the artistic yet childish one, the one who’s heard less compared to her sisters.

These judgements were swept off once I stumbled upon Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women (2019). Many praised it for being able to break down all the stigmas we used to have regarding the other March sisters. All of them are seen more humane, as their motives for doing what they believe in are presented really well. You can actually relate to everyone. Meg’s dream to settle down as a housewife matters too, because it’s her choice. And she owns up to every consequences that are born from the decision to solely marry out of love; she thrives from overcoming all the obstacles in her marriage with Brooke (this is depicted largely in the latter books as well). Beth is not just a “supporting character”, as she is a keen observer, she makes the family sticks together, and all of her decisions are based on very thoughtful considerations. And Amy–oh my God, she has a major character development! Contrary to the popular belief, Amy is actually one of the most mature sisters. She knows what she wants, and she’s willing to pursue it, but she realizes that she has to be realistic as well. She calculates everything, she blends well with the society (because she knows that it’s one of the way for her to be able to live comfortably, realistically), she’s basically the epitome of a balance between idealism and pragmatism (at least for me, haha). I love that here, every March sisters get their own spotlight. Because they all deserve it.

And that being said, I strangely relate to Amy more than Jo these days. Well, I think I’m both Jo and Amy, HAHA. It’s undeniable that Jo and I share many traits and quirks (it’s even funnier that we both pursue our passion in education, as Jo is shown running a school in the latter installments), but now I realize that I start to live my life more like Amy. Which is not a bad thing at all. I learn that doing small talks and trying to fit in the society isn’t the same as not being true to ourselves; it’s just how we put ourselves together, how we treat other people with respect as part of the society. After all, we’ll always need other people, eh? I also learn about how we need to be more realistic at times to make all ends meet, but at the same time, we don’t wanna lose all the fun (of pursuing our dream) as well. Or to put it more bluntly, Amy reminds me of how we need money to be able to live comfortably HAHAHA.

I think, Amy is for my more realistic take on life, while Jo is for a part of myself who wants to stand up for everything I believe in, and for (how I wish I’ll always have) the burning passion in doing things. And both Amy and Jo are living their own happy, fulfilling, and overlapping lives (as they’ll always be sisters, and as Amy ended up marrying Jo’s bestest best friend Laurie), which is also one part of myself that longs for that kind of life.

Aaaand… It’s a bit unrelated, but while we’re at it, let’s also talk about Laurie! I’ve always had this interest towards the “best friend” trope (or maybe, the “childhood friend”, or the “best friends become lovers”, or whatever) in books and movies. So naturally, once I learn about the dynamics between Jo and Laurie, I have always been more than excited to see more developments from them. I truly root for them to be together romantically, as Laurie has consistently shown interests for Jo throughout the story. At some point, he even proposed to Jo, to which Jo said no.

I have to tell everyone that I was really upset about this. Like, heck, you guys are best friends, you understand each other the best, so you guys should’ve been compatible af! You guys can settle down into a long lasting relationship with the person you can give your absolute trust to, but you choose not to. And I really didn’t understand. As far as I remember, in Good Wives, Jo said that she denied the proposal because “Laurie and her are too similar in many things, so they don’t fit to be together”.

I still didn’t understand. I also didn’t understand why Laurie married Amy instead. I opposed their relationship, with the utmost distaste, back then (I sound like a hardcore fan, but I think I really did).

But I start to understand more of why they “just don’t fit to be together”, as I approach the end of the installments. Well, they sure feel it’s always nice to be around each other, but that only, doesn’t make them compatible for each other, in terms of romantic relationship. Sometimes what’s needed is a complementary role, which they don’t have in many things. Another good example would be this one. Jo has always been said to want someone who can always challenge her beliefs, while with Laurie, with whom she shares many same ideas, the relationship would be just lurking in her comfort zone. Which is the opposite of what she longs for. And even though them being strikingly similar, they still have disagreements upon many important things, some of which could affect how they pursue their marriage life. Or to put it shortly, just having different values in life.

Sooo I get over my heartbreak. And actually, seeing how Jo and Laurie interact as they progress in their own lives gives me another insight. Of how their love for each other is the kind of love that… transcends. Throughout their lives, they stay real close to each other and give supports in whichever way they prefer. They (or maybe, just Laurie, I don’t know) simply learn to choose what’s best for themselves, rather than submitting to a mere desire to be involved romantically. They (again, maybe only Laurie) learn that they have a choice in love. In the end, Jo married Professor Bhaer instead, which was a choice she made because she thought they can actually complement each other.

I learn a lot from this, too, as I have always been a hopeless romantic who dreams to live happily ever after with her best friend (HAHAHA). I learn that it’s okay to not end up with the person you enjoy being with the most, because you know yourself better. You know what or who can bring greater good for yourself, that can suit your needs more. I also learn that you can love someone in many ways, even the most unthinkable ones, and that you shouldn’t be only fixated to the idea of romantic love. That every kind of good love is worth celebrated. And this just shows how Jo’s character development is also my character development in… some ways (I truly can’t separate her from my coming of age journey, thus I can’t choose between Jo and Amy).

Yeah. Now I really think I’m both Jo and Amy. And I still really think that Little Women just gets better every time you think about it, for as I come to know each March sisters better, I learn about myself more.

(star-crossed) lovers

“Hear, hear. I really care about you. I love you, but there’s no more beyond platonic love.”

“How is a platonic love supposed to be?”

“I want to be the one cheering you the loudest in the front row when you finally get that award. I want to always help you with all the resources that I have. I want to do active listening whenever you need to ease that burden of yours. I want you to be happy. I want you to lead a fulfilling life. In some years in the future, you could be talking about how you’re about to marry your dream girl–after all these time!–and I still want to listen to that story.

And if those aren’t enough, I want you to be okay. Just okay would be great.”

“And sane,” you chuckled.

“Sane definitely means okay. But I don’t know if that also means not lonely.”


“Since we’re in to this depth already, wouldn’t you just tell me how you feel about me as well?”

“Are you that curious?” you smirked.

“Yeah, what would sound better than confessing your feelings in a quiet place like this, beneath the starry night, and with just the two of us? You won’t be here every day.” You laughed.

“Well… okay. I think I love you, too.”

“As in…?”

“As in… the kind of love that makes you want to do romantic things.” Here it goes again…

“Are you sure you don’t just… like me, in a way where you also want to do romantic things with me?”

“How would that be different, though, like and love?”

“I could dream of doing romantic things with anyone I’m interested in. I could do that with my young lecturer who actually has married with two kids but not everyone knows about that. I could do that with my favorite Mr. Darcy, the one who starred in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film. Well, since I like them. I wouldn’t give out anything to be in that position, but I would love to be in that position.

While loving, it takes all your heart out. And you don’t ask for anything in return. I can’t love, I can’t care about everyone.”

“And you care about me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. And because I care about you, I want you to rethink again what you really mean by your way of loving with romantic tendencies. You can dream about that with as many girls that you want, just like how you used to do.”

“Hey, I’m not a person like that!

…Uh, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am.”

“You’re really annoying.”

“But you love me this way, don’t you?”

“You’re really annoying.”

“The most important thing is that you love me.”

“When you die, from whatever causes–be it your stupidity or other’s stupidity–I will write a very short obituary of how you were annoying in your whole life. Then I will wish you to rest in peace.”

“That would only come from someone who loves me.”

Apa yang malaikat lakukan saat mereka sedih?

Aku tahu, Ibu tidak suka aku menanyakan sesuatu yang aneh. Aneh pun sebenarnya hanya kualitas yang subjektif; parameter aneh buatku adalah ketika kening Ibu sudah berkedut-kedut. Mungkin bertanya-tanya, waktu hamil dia dulu saya ngidam apa, ya?

Namun, kali ini tanda tanya di benakku tak dapat dibendung lagi. Aku hanya ingin tahu, Ibu, apa yang malaikat lakukan saat mereka sedih?

Aku melihat kening ibu kembali berkedut-kedut. Namun, kali ini ia tidak langsung memalingkan wajahnya. “Nanti, kalau Ibu sudah tahu jawabannya akan Ibu beri tahu, ya,” ujarnya singkat. Aku melonjak kegirangan. Akhirnya, akhirnya; pertanyaan aneh pertamaku akan terjawab!


            Waktu itu, dua jarum jam tumpang-tindih di angka sebelas. Langit sudah berkalung bintang.

“Ibu!” seruku cepat. Aku segera meraih kakinya, karena aku memang hanya setinggi itu. “Ibu, kenapa pulang malam sekali?” Malam itu, aku melihat sesuatu pada wajah iIbu yang belum pernah kulihat sebelumnya. Lelah; sama lelahnya ketika ia usai menyapu lantai seluruh penjuru rumah. Senang; kata Ayah, sama seperti wajahku saat Kakek memberiku tambahan koleksi Lego. Namun, ada satu lagi yang tidak aku kenali. Seluruh wajahnya merona merah dan matanya berair.

“Fionna!” Tiba-tiba, Ayah langsung menghambur keluar, bahkan tak sempat memakai sandalnya. Saat melihat ayahku menyodorkan kedua tangannya, tangis ibuku pecah seketika. Ia terisak-isak di pelukan Ayah. Aku semakin bertanya-tanya, tanganku masih mencengkram kaki Ibu.

“Kevin,” ujarnya sambil menarik napas cepat-cepat.

“Kamu nggak apa-apa, kan?” ujar ayahku khawatir, ia memindai Ibu dari ujung rambut sampai kaki, matanya nyalang membelalak seperti diteror sesuatu.

“Tadi ada malaikat. Aku selamat, semua karena dia.” Malaikat?

“Ibu, malaikat itu apa?” desakku sambil menepuk-nepuk kakinya. Aku tak pernah ingat satu pun waktu ketika Ayah dan Ibu tidak menjawab pertanyaanku. Bahkan, ketika apa yang kutanyakan dalam bahasa yang mungkin tak mereka pahami. Atau ketika aku bertanya sesuatu yang sudah pernah mereka jawab untukku.

Kali itu, mereka diam; tenggelam dalam tatapan satu sama lain.


            Setelah malam itu, Ibu tidak keluar dari rumah lagi berhari-hari setelahnya. Ia lebih sering berkutat di ruang baca dan di depan televisi. Sering juga kutemui ia berada di balik telepon, membicarakan topik yang tidak kumengerti dengan banyak orang. Sebaliknya, Ayah jadi lebih sering keluar dari rumah. Kadang, ia membawakan makanan cepat saji untuk makan malam. Lalu, aku akan melirik Ibu, yang biasanya tidak pernah mengizinkan aku makan ayam tepung atau burger. Ia ikut makan bersama kami di meja makan.

Malam itu, kami bertiga lengkap, duduk mengitari meja makan. Ini adalah hari ketiga kami makan burger untuk makan malam. Selama itu pula aku terus menahan diri untuk tidak bertanya-tanya soal malaikat lagi kepada Ibu. Sudah kujelajahi seluruh koleksi bukuku, mereka menjelaskan malaikat sebagai gadis-gadis berkulit sewarna pualam dan bergaun putih yang membawa lingkaran emas di atas kepalanya. Memang, ada ya, yang seperti itu di kotaku?

Sementara tangan kananku memegang burger, tangan kiriku berada di bawah meja, meraba ilustrasi malaikat yang ada di buku cerita favoritku. Mungkin, mereka benar-benar nyata?

“Bu, malaikat itu apa?” Aku akhirnya memberanikan diri untuk bertanya. Rasanya seperti aku baru saja melempar sekeping koin ke dalam sumur.

Untuk pertama kalinya, Ibu menoleh ke arahku. Lalu tersenyum. Saat Ayah mengulurkan tangan untuk menggamit jemarinya, ia terkikik geli. “Sayang, malaikat di sini bukan seperti apa yang ada di buku-bukumu. Ini seperti… kiasan?” ujarnya sambil menoleh kepada Ayah.

“Y-ya, ya, ibumu lah, yang pandai menulis. Ayah kan, bisanya main musik. Tapi, kami selalu menggunakan istilah “malaikat” untuk menggambarkan seseorang yang sangat baik. Seseorang yang selalu menolong orang lain, menghibur orang lain, selalu ingin menjaga kedamaian—“

“Jadi, Ibu baru ditolong seseorang?” potongku cepat. Ayah mengangguk sebelum ibu dapat merespon apapun. “Ibumu baru pulang dari kantor, lalu… seseorang mengajaknya pulang dengan motor. Karena… di depan kantor sedang… banyak orang berkumpul.” Ibuku mendelik cepat dan wajahnya tidak bahagia lagi. Kedua mata sipitnya dikatupkan sebelum ia menghela napas panjang.

“Jadi… malaikat selalu menolong orang?” tanyaku lagi.

“Ya, bisa dibilang begitu.”

“Dia selalu membuat orang sedih menjadi senang?”

“Iya, sayang. Sekarang habiskan burgermu.”


            Rasanya, sudah lewat beberapa hari setelah malam itu. Hari ini, pertama kalinya aku melihat Ibu membawa tas cokelatnya lagi. Di tangan kanannya ada plastik berisi kertas-kertas, seperti biasa. Aku sedang meletakkan sebuah balok kecil untuk menyempurnakan menaraku saat ia keluar dari kamar. Ia duduk di lantai sambil memakai sepatunya di sebelahku. “Sayang, besok kamu sudah masuk sekolah lagi, ya. Hari ini, puas-puasin dulu mainnya!” Aku tertawa geli mendengarnya.

“Hari ini, Ibu pulang lebih awal,” sahutnya saat sudah berdiri di mulut pintu.

Lalu, ia menoleh ke belakang. “Apa, ya… tadi Ibu mau bilang sesuatu.”

Aku membelalak penuh semangat. Saat ayah dan ibuku ingin bilang sesuatu, biasanya mereka punya kabar baik.

“Oh, ya… tentang malaikat yang sedih.” Ia menarik napas sejenak. Mungkin, sedang mencari kata. “Kamu tahu, Nak, tidak semua makhluk dapat menjadi malaikat. Eh, bukan, malaikat sendiri adalah makhluk.”

“Lalu… malaikat punya sayap, iya, kan?” Aku mengangguk dalam-dalam.

“Itu karena mereka sangat baik. Mereka dihadiahi sayap oleh Tuhan karena mereka sangat baik. Mereka membuat semuanya bahagia. Namun, itu bukan berarti mereka tak pernah sedih.

Saat malaikat sedih, mereka akan… memeluk diri mereka sendiri dengan sayapnya.” Ibu lalu memeluk dirinya sendiri erat-erat  dengan kedua tangannya. “Lalu, mereka jadi bahagia.”

“Wah, romantis sekali, ya.” Ayah tiba-tiba muncul dari balik pintu, menyeringai. “Tapi, sudah jam segini, nih. Nanti kau telat ke kantor. Nak, pagi ini Ayah mau antar Ibu dulu, ya. Tidak lama, kok.”

Mereka berebut mencium pipiku sebelum menjauh dari ambang pintu.

“Ibu!” seruku cepat. “Kalau aku jadi anak baik, apa aku akan dapat sayap juga?”

Ibuku tersenyum kecil. “Mungkin saja, Nak.”


Jakarta, 1998


A/N: ini sebenernya buat tugas suatu matkul, terus temanya tentang perdamaian HAHA (kata temen gue “kalo dicocok-cocokin nyambung kok”) tapi yaudalah gue end up liking it jadi biarlah begini saja:(

Anyways, salah satu kebiasaan gue adalah bikin pair yang biasanya sih bakal gue pake berulang-ulang di cerita lain. Karakter Kevin Wiranata dan Fionna Wei ini pertama gue bikin pas kelas 10 (buat tugas juga) dan sampai saat ini mereka udah muncul di sekitar empat sampai lima cerita. Dua hal yang pasti adalah nama mereka dan Kevin yang seorang musical prodigy.

afterlife or oblivion?

As my grandmother lays on her death bed, thoughts upon death starts churning inside my mind.

Ever since I was a little child, I’ve always thought that death is something sacred where people mourn over the dead. When it comes to the word “death”, I immediately think about a funeral where everyone is dressed in black. Rain pours lightly, and they stand under their umbrellas to say goodbye for the last time. Favorite bouquet of flowers that symbolizes things are also put upon the tombstone. But what I see now describes almost the contrary; that death is not just a time when you’re supposed to express sadness and grief.

Death is also about management and preparation, because the dead ones can’t just be left there to finish their duties in real life in order to reach afterlife, right? Death is also a semicolon in life because when your loved one eventually stops breathing, there’s no reason to stop your life there, too.

I guess that’s the tough part in encountering death-related events.

Speaking of which, another thoughts of mine is that which one is better; having another life after death or just die into oblivion, where death means the end of everything?

Of course, having faith in afterlife actually makes people have a reason to do nice deeds. But it seems that they’re being overshadowed by the things considered sinful. There are probabilities that people might not feel have lived their whole life passionately due to gaining their ~ticket~ to a comfortable afterlife.

In another hand, dying into oblivion means that people have no worries about what kind of fate waiting there to judge how they have lived their life. But it also states that there aren’t any motivations for people to be nice other than common sense.

Unfortunately, not all people manage their common sense well (this line is after some long convos with friends) and that’s probably why, we need guidance in life.

This guidance is called religion.

bukan blog baru

Halo, sebelumnya salam kenal. Sosok di balik username nabilagit ini biasa dipanggil Nagit dan tadinya, blog utamanya bukan di sini, melainkan di sini. Karena satu dan lain hal yang bisa jadi melibatkan koneksi internet atau laptop bututnya (untung sayang), ia memutuskan untuk membuka blog lain yang relatif lebih ~ringan~ jika diakses dari gadget-nya. Lalu lahirlah blog ini, yang semata-mata berperan sebagai pencatat ide-ide selintasnya.

Selamat mengarungi semesta imaji saya. (punten, ndak selamanya saya nulis dengan bahasa literer)