Perjalanan Mencari Pulang: Semarang - Day 1

Vakansi

After a long time planning a whole-family-trip to Jogja-Semarang for the 2015 year end, finally it messed up. My cousin Dino and I have a final semester exam that wouldn't finish before 23rd, while according to the plan, we should've already got back home from the trip by then. This means, it's impossible for us to attend a relative's wedding in Jogja, which is actually the reason why the whole family is having this trip in the first place. It gets more impossible when it turns out that my uncle has a business trip around that time too.

The whole plan was nearly cancelled, and so did my yet-to-come-happiness. I mean, oh please, we haven't had a family vacation in YEARS. I haven't had any vacation in MORE YEARS than my other family members had, and to be a little frank, I was not in a good shape in the last few months of 2015. I've been busy and sad and to be fucking honest, I needed a vacation for the sake of my sanity. (which I doubt ever existed, though).

I was not the only one who felt disappointed; my cousins were, too. So, after some bargaining and discussing, the trip was not cancelled. They would still attend the wedding, still take off to cities, still have a family vacation.

And yes, I meant "they". I wasn't coming.

Need to ask why? Well final semester exams are mandatory, that's why. (Unless we love our campus so much that we want to have an extra longer period of study there but really no thanks.)

So we have to let go that everybody will be there, while we're here, living our own plan.

But my parents and I have decided to make another trip only for us. So my Mom would go to Semarang with the whole family, the wedding in Jogja, and then when finally everyone go home, she'll go back to Semarang because me and my Dad--who agreed to go later than everyone so he can accompany me, though what he said is that he doesn't want to miss more rehearsals before the Christmas break--will join her in Semarang. After that, we're gonna go to Purwonegoro, my Dad's hometown.

So that's it. We were going. And with that commence; Perjalanan Mencari Pulang.

Keberangkatan

25/12/15

We departed from the station around 9.20 in the morning. I always loved trains; it's fast, no traffic jams, not particularly shaky, and it's comfortable. So we said bye-bye to our city, and here we go Semarang!

If there is such a thing as a "holiday atmosphere" that can make anything seems so perfect, or maybe such a thing as a "mother's homeland sensation", well maybe that sensation is exactly what was striking me as I get off the train. I mean, Semarang is captivating. Okay--before you call me exaggerating, I'm gonna explain that it's not like I'm a person who travels a lot to have that many comparison, anyway, but I just love this city. I've been here once before when I was a sixth grader, and though it had been years (since I am a college student right now) but the strange effect it had gotten me is totally the same; I feel like I knew this place, like I'm so comfortable, so homey in a city I've never lived in. Is it even possible that these weird-homey-feeling is actually my subconsciously, deeply-planted image of this city, just as told by my mother in her childhood stories, that somehow, matches the reality? And somehow, that image marries the reality, and therefore, generating this tingling sensation of belonging? I mean like seriously, is that even possible? If that is, whoa, I live in such a hidden fairy tale all this time.

Stasiun Semarang Tawang (Station of Semarang Tawang)

So around 3 in the afternoon, after we were arrived in the Tawang station, we got picked up by my Mom and my Bude Wiwik (It's like Aunty. In fact, Aunty in Bahasa translates to Tante, your Mom/Dad's younger sister. But the Javanese have a word for their older sister; Bude). Before the adventure continues, we decided to have a late lunch. But MAN, could I get any more excited? The station we were from and also the restaurant we were heading to was located in Kota Lama, the old part of Semarang that still keeps the buildings as they were in the time of Dutch's invasion. That means; old architectures, pavement roads, and awesomeness.

GPIB Immanuel (Gereja Blenduk)

We ate in this restaurant called Ikan Bakar Cianjur. It is located on a very strategic place; just not so far from the Tawang Station and also near the GPIB Immanuel (Gereja Blenduk), which is an attraction for the tourists. Besides the excellent menu, the whole concept of this restaurant is totally embracing the spirit of Kota Lama itself, which is old-looking, and amazing. When you got your first step on that building, you are welcomed by the beautiful-classic-painted floors. Then the sight of pretty furnitures and decorations follows. You know what, they even put their air conditioners into a shell looks like an old food cabinet! They really take their concept seriously, props to them.

After our hunger went away, there was only nothing left except fatigue. My Bude was willing to take us to Lawang Sewu ("A Thousand Doors", a tourist attraction, must-visit if you're in this city) but since all of us had been there before, and that me and my Dad's joints were aching after nearly 6 hours of being on the train, we decided to check in to the hotel.

Our hotel was a tiny one called Java Banana Residence. It is located in Bukit Sari, Gombel, and provides only 15 room, which means less noise, less crowd, and perfect for people like me, haha. From the front, it looked pretty tiny and closed. I was pretty surprised because I wouldn't thought it was a hotel, but when I got inside, I think it looked pretty big. And the best part is on the first and second floor; there was a lobby with a big book shelf on one side of the wall, and a comfy chairs and table to sit and read! On the second story, they even got a little leveling for everyone to sit on, if they want to sit more casually rather than being stuck up in chairs.

 

But we still haven't call it a day. Yet. After Bude Wiwik went home at around twilight, we hit the shower and freshen ourselves up, and after that, we planned on visiting my mother's cousin; my Bude Ambik.

But before we were done, turned out that she and her son, Mas Rendhi, picked us up to the hotel. Long story short, we went to her house that wasn't located far from there (oh what was I thinking?Without the crazy traffic jams like in my city, nowhere in Semarang would seem far!).

My Bude and Pakde ("Uncle". A name to call our parents' older brothers/male cousins, or the spouse of their older sisters/female cousins) have three sons, which means I have three Mas from them. "Mas" is a Javanese word for us to call our older brothers/male cousins/relatives, or basically, just any male person who is older than you, in order to respect them. And in Java, we have a thing called "abu". It's like, the level in the family tree. If my Bude has a son, though he is a lot younger than me, I must call him "Mas" (even if he's 5 years old while I'm 23, for example), because his mother's "abu"/level is older than my Mom. And therefore, my Mom should call her "Mbak" (The usage is like "Mas", but it's the female version).

Well, tell you what, despite the fact that we are relatives, we don't meet that often. My Pakde Dodi has a job that requires his family to keep on moving from city to city ever since their children were very young. And though they have stayed in Semarang for the last few years now, I haven't had many chance to meet them ever since I was little. I even only get the chance to meet Mas Rio, my Misan (the children of our parents' cousins--or how do you call it in English? Second cousin?) last year, when he came to my city to sign up for a university, though he end up studying in Semarang. And I only met his brothers, Mas Rendhi and Mas Reza for like, once. That visit to their house was literally the first time I met them. I mean...they're my misans. And we only met in one or two opportunities! If we never have met each other before, we could just cross path on the street without a single knowledge that our mothers played together when they were little, as the granddaughters of the same grandparents. Moreover, Mas Rio has exactly the same age as mine, so maybe, if we grew up together as children, we'd be just as brother-sister-like as I was to my one-year-younger cousin Dino, whom I spent my childhood playing with. Geez. I wish we can have more encounters in life. You know, it's great to get to know your family and to be able to get to know them as a person; as someone real; more than just a distant image extracted from your mother's explanation of your family tree. To meet them in person, to spend time with them, to know what they like to do in their spare times, or what kind of music they listen to, or even what they are into in life--to know these things that you learned directly from the person--it feels genuine. And personal. 

And it feels like I have brothers.

After we had dinner together, Mas Rio, Bude Ambik, my Mom and I planned for our destinations to visit during our stay in Semarang.

They recommend sooo many cool places and Mas Rio even volunteered to accompany us to explore them! He also recommended Semawis as a place to visit, since its a very cool and interesting place, which after I listened to his explanation, I couldn't agree more; It's a market located in the Chinatown, and it's a big destination for a culinary excursion. Mas Rio said that maybe the food aren't that one of a kind though, like maybe I've seen foods like that in the capital. Well I could not say for sure since I have no idea how exactly that would be like, but I bet to him that the atmosphere is winning. The scene, the feel, the spirit in it is what makes the whole experience extraordinary. He agreed to that, and I wish we all could visit Semawis but since there are so many interesting places we want to see, we had to put Semawis on the list of the must-visited destinations for our next visit to Semarang. But I promise Semawis, just wait. I will see you one day!

So after the talk was done and the plans were made, they were gonna take us back to our hotel.

But since they figured out that me and my Mom loves the sight of a city skyline at night, Mas Rio said he could take us to the hotel through a road where that scenery would be all clear...OH LORD  I don't even know how that night could get even better than it already was!

So we--Bude Ambik and Mas Rio, my Mom, Dad, and myself--jumped to the car and swiftly take off. It was a SUPER fun late night drive for me, knowing that I was going to a place I'm sure I'll love.

I got to tell you, this skyline that we're talking about is a real bucket list for me. Don't bother to wonder; my city has plateau and plains, but not as extreme as it should to allow anyone to see the city's skyline. I never see the horizon out there! (In my city I actually know a place where I can see a slight skyline--it's a household built on a lowland, and right next to it is a boulevard that was located on a higher level, and I always go through that boulevard, mostly around midnight. And every time I did, I couldn't help but to stare at that household, cherishing every brief second I can have before those walls and buildings start to cover up that scenery. And even with that limitation, I treasure that place so much!) 

Despite that fact, a skyline seemed to be a very usual thing in this city. Well, Semarang is a one of a kind city; it is a coastal town, but it has some hilly areas. It's divided into two parts; Kota Atas (the upper part) and Kota Bawah (the lower part). The hotel and my Bude's house is located in Kota Atas, and from certain spots, the scenery of Kota bawah would be totally clear. Imagine, it's an everyday scenery for Mas Rio, but to me it was a dreamy sight I always long for. How unfair!

And finally, we've reached the best part; we were driving uphill and I was so focused on how heavy the car now feels. But it was not until I looked outside the window on my right and see a wide, broad city spread before me like an ocean of lights.

I just managed to gasp, when my mother was showing me the exact same thing I was gasping for. And ahead--after a constant view of the road uphill--we finally reach the top, and like riding a roller coaster, my jaw dropped.

But not because of fear. Because of awe.

That broad city I saw from my right window, was like a little bad trailer of an Oscar-winning movie. It caught your heart, but it was a total understatement. Man, I was not even prepared; all I can see from the top of the climb was a stretch of city; like a pitch black ocean with fireflies swimming in it. And they glow. And they blink to me. And the whole symphony of lights and darkness are totally responsible for making me fall in love.

I mean, oh my God! Skylines! It's a real city skyline, glowing at night, looking so magical, so bizarre, so wondrous, and so full of soul. Man I'm not lying, tempat itu punya jiwa. And then, and then, and then, as I thought that it was the closest I can ever get to that scenery I long for, and therefore I did not dare to dream for more, Mas Rio did this;

He turned the car to the left, to a very quiet alley, where on the left, stood a solitary house on a little high edge, surrounded by trees and covered in vines. And on the right; was a cliff; steep, bordered by a short cement walls, covered with vines too, and far beyond the fence; the city.

Oh Good Lord in Heaven. I am truly blessed.

I always consider skylines as a very magical thing; you can stand still in one place staring at that, waiting for them to change into another time of the day; day to afternoon, afternoon to twilight, twilight burst in its dancing colors only in a split second before they turn into evening, evening to late night, midnight, then it rolls to dusk and dawn, and morning, and day. And the world rolls the time flows, but the moment seemed to stop. Know what--there's a quote I got reminded of when I think of this, it's from the movie Boyhood and I am truly agree with that; we didn't seize the moment. The moment seizes us.

"Kota itu telah menjadi kekasih
yang Horisonnya, mengeja namamu dengan fasih."

COULDN'T CONTROL MY OVERWHELMING FEELS AND FACE

I swear if I lived in that house on the top of the edge, or anywhere nearby, any house granted with such a privilege as that scenery--I would certainly go out to the street and sit on that cement walls every single time I feel sad, or happy, or dried of inspirations. That place is like a spring of inspirations, of poems and odes and I would bear sitting there for hours just to have a conversation with the night. Just to have a long heart-to-heart talk with the city. Just to make it mine. Just to marry it, and claim it as my lover for eternity.

After tons of photos, we proceeded.

Mas Rio and Bude Ambik decided to show us the Simpang Lima first before they drove us home. It's a big intersection consists of five boulevard, and there are many attractions and food carts there. I didn't even know that there were so many things such as these Odong-odong out here! (Odong-odong; a little decorated vehicle that we can rent to go around a certain area. Actually I don't know if they call it "Odong-odong" too in Semarang, but it's basically the same thing. Usually the kids love this, tho in fact I DO TOO.

Then we hit some foot cart and bought a bowl of Ronde. It's like, ginger water, brown sugar, nuts, and idk what else. Tastes like Sekoteng to me, though. But it was great.

When it was done, we got back to the hotel and sleep.

WOW. To me, that day alone was a very great starter for a holiday I very rarely have, and it was only the beginning.

So stay creeping cause I'll be telling you about the adventure that awaits us the next day!

Perjalanan Mencari Pulang

Pulang.


Itulah satu kata yang mungkin maknanya paling kita rindukan. Kata yang akan langsung mendentangkan sebuah lonceng dalam kepala kita; membuat kita lantas teringat akan suatu tempat yang hangat, nyaman, damai, suatu tempat yang jauh mengawang dalam ingatan, tempat di mana kita merasa dicintai dan utuh.

Tapi, konsep pulang adalah suatu hal yang lucu.
Artinya adalah "kembali", ke rumah kita yang sesungguhnya. Ke tempat kita berasal. Tempat di mana kita bermula, awal dari segalanya, sebelum kita memulai perjalanan.
Maka, jika "pulang" berarti "kembali", tempat ke mana kita pulang, berarti adalah tempat yang sudah pernah kita kunjungi sebelumnya.

Lalu jika kau belum pernah menemukan "rumah" dengan segala makna yang seharusnya, tak berhakkah kau berkata; "Aku ingin pulang"?

Kalau iya, lantas apa yang kau rindukan? Rumah yang tak pernah kau kenal, atau perasaan pulang itu, yang entah bagaimana bisa kau impikan, meski sepertinya, belum pernah kau kecap sepanjang ingatan?

Kalau begitu, "pulang" adalah suatu kemewahan yang tidak semua orang bisa dapatkan, because tell you what, "pulang" adalah suatu aksi yang lebih dari sekedar "kembali ke tempat yang kau tinggali." Karena "rumah" cuma benda, dan tak ada benda apa pun yang bisa memberi rasa tanpa nyawa.

Maka bila "pulang" mutlak mengandung "rindu", berhakkah seseorang berkata "Aku ingin pulang kampung", jika ia belum pernah menginjakkan kaki ke kampungnya? Bisakah kau merindukan kampung yang tak pernah kau kenal?

Seringkali, sebagai generasi kedua dari orang-orang yang merantau, kita "mewarisi" kampung orang tua kita. Jika Ayahmu orang Padang, maka kau bilang "Kampungku di Padang", jika Ibumu orang Samarinda, kau bilang "Kampungku di Samarinda". Tapi rasanya itu salah. Itu kampung mereka! Apa arti itu semua, jika kita tumbuh besar di kota yang sama sekali lain, dan tak pernah mengenal kampung halaman orang tua kita? Apa hanya karena kita pernah pergi ke sana, lantas itu juga menjadi kampung halaman kita?

Bukankah tragis, jika kampung halaman orang tuamu bukanlah kampung halamanmu...? Sungguh tragis bila kamu "pulang ke kampung halaman" tapi justru merasa asing!

Karenanya aku menolak tragedi itu. Aku harus menemukan "pulang" itu. Aku ingin mengenal, menjelajahi, dan mencintainya, aku ingin memahami rasa apa yang menghambur kedua orang tuaku saat mereka menginjakan kaki di tanah airnya, debar apa yang menghantam jantung saat menelusuri kembali jalan-jalannya, dan derau tawa yang menggema ingatan dalam tiap langkahnya. Aku juga ingin merasa pulang, bersama dengan orang-orang yang merupakan tempatku pulang.

Oleh karena itulah, I have decided. Whole-heartedly, I present to you a documentation of a journey; Perjalanan Mencari Pulang.


Stay creeping!

Ya, ya, ya, ya.

Kita memang perkara sepele.

Sampai jumpa lagi, sahabat yang tak pernah kuhargai. Semoga kau masih sudi mengunjungiku.

Tiba-tiba, aku tak mengerti lagi untuk apa semua ini.

Pada malam-malam seperti ini aku merasa perih. Pada malam-malam menjelang Hari Rayaku sendiri.

Di benakku, bukan seperti inilah malam Lebaran akan dilewatkan. Bukan kau yang tertidur di sudut kasur, bukan ia yang menatap nyalang pada peti TV, bukan aku yang didera hampa dalam sudut tergelap pikiranku, meratapi absensi makna, mempertanyakan arti esok. 

Tolong, katakan padaku; apakah tiap malam lebaran hanyalah satu di antara beribu malam lainnya, kecuali dengan takbiran yang berkumandang di seluruh pelosok kota sebagai pembeda?

Tuhan, aku selalu merasa pahit luar biasa setiap malam menjelang hari suci. Hampa pada setiap kumandang takbir, hampa pada bayangan esok hari. Lebaran adalah hari di mana kita berulang kali mencari baju baru untuk dipamerkan, di mana aku harus sibuk bertanya pada satu-dua tetangga apakah mereka mau solat Ied bersamaku, agar aku tak sendirian sembari menghindari para tetangga yang bersalam-salaman.

Lalu kami akan bergegas meninggalkan rumah, menuju rumah yang dituakan dalam keluarga besar untuk bersilaturahmi. 

Salam hangat, halo apa kabar, bertukar cerita. Obrolan keluarga. Canda dan tawa. Console permainan elektronik, anak-anak yang semakin dewasa. Orang dewasa yang semakin tua. Kue kering, opor, ketupat. Jam yang terus berdetik. Kesadaran bahwa waktu terus berlalu. Kalian semua harus meneruskan perjalanan. Ucapan perpisahan, sampai ketemu lagi, assalamualaikum, hati-hati di jalan. Mobil pergi. Tutup pagar.

Hampa kembali menyergap.

Lalu kami tak punya siapa-siapa lagi untuk dikunjungi, maka untuk melupakan kekosongan, kami pun turut pamit pulang.

Ah, jangan lupa. Setibanya di rumah nanti, telepon keluarga besar di kampung. Giliranku bicara tak perlu lama-lama, batinku, aku tak tahu lagi apa yang harus dikatakan.

Segalanya sama. Segala kunjungan dan lainnya itu. Kecuali bagaimana rumah-rumah yang kami kunjungi semakin tahun menjadi semakin sedikit.

Lihatlah... Bagaimana aku bisa lupa perasaan macam apa yang selalu kembali mendera? Segalanya sama, rindu menggedor lagi, hampa menyergap lagi, ini semua repetisi. Bergulir namun diam, diam namun jerit. Dan di antaranya ku belum berhasil menemukan arti.

Ya Tuhanku. Bila satu waktu aku mati, akankah aku mengingat semua ini?

Dan di belakangaku, di belakang hari ini, Ramadhan telah berlalu... Bulan yang mereka bilang suci, di mana aku masih tetap saja memaki. Sekali lagi aku telah membiarkanmu berlalu! Aku bahkan belum pernah menjamumu, dan sekarang kau akan meninggalkanku. Sahabat baik yang dihibahkan padaku oleh Tuhan, yang selalu setia mengunjungiku selama 19 hidupku, tanpa pernah ingkar janji. Sahabat yang tak pernah kuhargai. Yang tak pernah kucintai. Yang selalu kukhianati.

Tapi esok hari yang Fitri. Hari yang kau hantarkan dengan sabar padaku. Aku harap kau sudi memaafkanku, dan, entah bagaimana, sudi mengunjungiku lagi.

Dan bila iya, maka aku akan menantimu. Hingga saat itu, berjanjilah padaku, jika kau pernah kembali, jika kita berjumpa lagi; 

Ajarkan aku bagaimana memaknaimu.

-Selamat Hari Raya Idul Fitri 1436. Semoga Lebaran kalian sarat makna.-

Opini.

So, after years growing up with my-very-own-messed-up-self, I comprehend that I'm not the type of person who will do things if it is not caused by my own will.

Seriously. How many damn people you think have been yelling their so called "facts" on my ears, coaxing "suggestions" to make me believe that there are no other version of truths that is more righteous than theirs? This topic varies from religion, politics, definition of life with success and happiness, perspective about man and how people say they're all the same, how they define true friendship and how we should keep it, etc etc etc etc.

I mean I just don't know. There are too many things they set up over there and I'm just done listening to them. I'm just done being forced to believe in a thing I am not even given the chance to cogitate. Dan aku muak di-neraka-kan untuk tidak menelan segala yang mereka jejalkan dalam kerongkonganku.

Ujung-ujungnya, beginilah jadinya aku. I tend to refuse and despise everything that sounds to one-sided, segala hal yang terlalu sarat opini, karena jika aku menelan semuanya bulat-bulat dan membiarkan "fakta-fakta" itu membentuk diriku, apa bedanya diriku dengan sepotong tanah liat lunak?

Doesn't mean that I consider everything that other people besides me say are wrong, hell no. But I'm not exactly something they try to make me. I think I'm a little bit like this, I'm a little bit like that, and I'm also a little bit like something nobody else is, which is something original, that comes truly from myself as a being. Influences might be a part of the recipe, but my mainstay ingredient is myself. My truest and sincerest opinion. And in the future, maybe I will find myself having a similar opinion with what somebody told me to believe (which maybe I have despised too quickly) but I would rather be believing in an opinion because my experience forms it, and not because somebody else did. Let it leave me in black and blue, but if that's true, I would still go for that.

You might inspire me, but you will never dictate me.

But in fact, most of daily life situations, I don't object when people talk. I nod and stay silent because really, I don't think it would be very much beneficial to start an argument, unless you're starting to think I'm nothing more than a stupid nodding figure who will agree to everything you say. But it's just not worth the time and the anger I'll feel when I try to spit how terribly different I feel than those they try to make me feel. I'm just so tired of ending up spitting my opinions, dan kemudian, di-neraka-kan.

Nothing dude, I just feel angry. I feel angry and I've never feel me-er than this since a long time. Dan itulah kenapa aku menuliskan post ini. Aku harus kembali teringat sekali-sekali. I am my own person, aku paling aku ketika aku tahu siapa diriku, dan inilah aku. Mungkin aku diam, mungkin aku bungkam, tapi aku punya opini. Aku punya segudang opini. Dan aku tidak bodoh hanya karena kau tak pernah mendengarnya.

Lalu? Hanya karena lisanku membisu, apa itu artinya otakku pun harus bungkam? Apa itu artinya, pemikiran tak boleh lagi berkelana, dan opini harus dikebiri? Apa itu artinya, aku tak boleh merumuskan pendapatku sendiri?

Jika ternyata memang itu hukumnya, maka aku berontak.

Satu. Untuk nomor Satu.

Dari dulu, aku tahu "cinta" itu gila. Sesuatu yang bikin setiap orang jadi hidup atau mati. Bikin dunia jadi ramai atau bisu. Bikin bunga jadi tumbuh atau layu. Tapi sekarang rasanya, ada suatu pemahaman baru yang bikin aku tergeragap.

Ada hal-hal yang bikin kita lupa nikmat tidur, hal-hal yang bikin matamu nyalang, entah dalam keadaan kering atau basah. Ada kata-kata yang terasa menyambar, merenggut seluruh napas dan perhatian, seperti anak panah yang menghunjam jantung, dan ketika anak panah itu ditarik lepas, darah mengucur dengan derasnya, hingga kemudian kamu pun lemas dan mati. Tapi ada lagi kata-kata yang datang dengan cara yang lebih sederhana, lebih lembut, cantik dalam sunyinya, menyelusup pelan ke dalam rongga tubuh dan jiwamu, mendekam di sana, dan perlahan-lahan--namun pasti--menjadi napasmu sendiri.

Seperti ada yang memuai di dalam tubuhku; sesuatu yang hangat, kembang kempis seperti nebula. Berpendar samar, menghangatkan jiwa dan raga. Seperti niat, namun lebih kuat. Seperti nektar, namun lebih manis. Nebula itu berkembang pelan di dalam tubuhku, hingga pada akhirnya mengisi seluruh relung. Sinar sejati, bukan pantulan dari benda lain. Sesuatu yang abstrak, namun lebih konkret dari apapun yang pernah kusentuh.

Jantungku tidak berpacu seperti habis berlari, tapi ada yang hidup di dalam sini. Ada yang tumbuh, ada yang menghidupi. Dan aku paham; aku tidak mau anak panah yang menikam dan menyita seluruh hidup dan matiku, tapi aku mau kamu yang memberiku sebuah Nebula, Sang Mata Air sumber puisi yang membuatku bercucuran air mata.

Dan sumpah, air mata ini tumpukan makna.

Semesta bekerja dengan cara yang paling misterius. Manusia akan selalu bertanya-tanya bagaimana Ia mengatur semua ini, bagaimana kisah-kisah dituliskan, bagaimana kehidupan dimulai, bagaimana semuanya akan berakhir..... Kita mencoba mengartikan bintang-bintang, lalu menerka apa artinya... Bukankah kita semua begitu kecil?

Dan bagiku, Tuhan begitu megah dalam kebesaranNya, dan janji manusia begitu kecil..... Janji manusia hanyalah sesuatu yang bisa manusia ucapkan, namun dibandingkan dengan jalanNya, mereka begitu kecil. Begitu tak berarti, begitu fana.

Maka, tolong, jangan ajak aku berjanji. Aku ingin melakukan sesuatu yang lebih kuat daripada mengucapkan janji manusia, aku ingin melakukan sesuatu yg lebih besar; berdoa. Aku ingin kita berdoa bersama, berdoa agar Tuhan memang menulis cerita kita dengan segala berkah dan cintaNya; sebuah cerita yang nyata, sebuah kisah tanpa epilog.


"Presensi seseorang bisa menjadi eksplanasi atas transformasi sikap seorang manusia; menjadi kuat atau menjadi lemah."

Dan presensimu, buatku, menjadikan aku keduanya sekaligus.


Oleh karena itu, mari berdoa, semoga semesta mengikat temali kita.

Dengan seluruh cinta, doa, dan air mata bahagia,
Aamiin.

Embun.

Kenapa Embun dinamai "Embun"?

Kata para senior yang ngasih nama ini, karena Embun adalah sesuatu yang selalu ada di pagi hari, representasi dari semangat yang selalu terlahir kembali di setiap pagi. Well yeah, Embun adalah pembuka hari, dentingan semangat pagi yang membasahi pelupuk matamu yang masih diliputi kantuk. That's simply pretty, no one could deny.

Tapi kemudian, setelah sekian lama menerima penjelasan itu tanpa debat, ini terlintas di pikiran gue:
Lalu apa yang terjadi ketika pagi menjadi siang dan mentari telah mengapung tinggi?

I shudder when this understanding crossed my mind. Why would we call ourselves with something so temporary, something so frail, sesuatu yang akan lenyap menguap tanpa jejak saat mentari mulai menyorotnya dengan panas? Seperti pelukis yang membuat lukisan dengan embun di rumput halamannya, kemudian kehilangan mahakaryanya ketika mentari menguapkannya. Gue ketakutan membayangkan itu terjadi.

And to see things from that tiny point of view, of course, gave me creeps.
But then I realize.

Karena pagi bukanlah hanya di sini, maka Embun tak akan pernah lenyap.

Tanpa henti, tanpa istirahat, selama bumi masih bergulir, pagi akan selalu terbit di berbagai sisi bumi. Ketika mentari meninggi di sini, di sana pepohonan sedang mempersiapkan pucuk-pucuknya untuk kemunculan baru yang prima. Di saat pagi berubah menjadi hari dan hari menjelma senja, dan embun-embun itu menguap kembali ke angkasa, di sisi lain, bulir embun lainnya sedang terbentuk, hasil untaian Sang Malam, siap untuk melanjutkan perjuangan pendahulunya menyapa semesta, dan meneruskan roda regenerasi. Selama bumi masih terus berputar, pagi akan selalu ada. Maka Embun akan selalu ada.


And that's it. The show goes on, dew drops. Terlahir kembali, terus berjalan tanpa henti. The morning is never over, and with that knowledge in mind, kami siap menyapa semesta dengan karya!

"The grand show is eternal.

It is always sunrise somewhere;

the dew is never dried all at once;

a shower is forever falling;

vapor is ever rising.

Eternal sunrise,

eternal dawn and gloaming,

on sea and continents and islands,

each in its turn,

as the round earth rolls."

-John Muir