Long is the road we walked together
Hand in hand, hand in hand
Many are the obstacles we faced together
Hand in hand, hand in hand

Your smile gives me strength whenever I feel weak
Your touch bounces me up each time I fell down
The sparkling of your eyes cures me when I break
Your gentle voice makes my world turns around

We laugh together, we cry together
Hand in hand, hand in hand
The life that we live, we live together
Hand in hand, hand in hand

Your smile gives me strength whenever I feel weak
Your touch bounces me up each time I fell down
The sparkling of your eyes cures me when I break
Your gentle voice makes my world turns around

Oh, God, please let us, always together
Hand in hand, hand in hand
With the love that You give, we’re bound together
Hand in hand, hand in hand

I missed you, mother
I missed your gentle reminder
When days were dark
And my world seemed gone under

I missed you, mother
I missed your sweet sweet laughter
When you hold me tight
And wishing my sun be much brighter

I never knew it then
I only know it now
How you always be there
When I need you more

I never knew it then
I only know it now
Your love was my defense
Against all my evils and sorrow

Please bless me, mother
Please be beside me forever
Teach me how to pray
Make your love shines on me every day

I never knew it then
I only know it now
How you always be there
When I need you more

I never knew it then
I only know it now
Your love was my defense
Against all my evils and sorrow

And he freezed. He felt as if a wet hot towel fell to the nape of his neck. And though the night was icy cold, a burst of hot air blown on top of his head. What was more, the towel like thing on the nape of his neck was moving, too! And at the point when he was about to faint, there was a light inside the dark house in front of him across the gate. The door opened. A stoutly woman figure stood in the doorway, with the light behind her, calling out through the drizzle of the rain, “Bruno, stop! Come in here! Now!”

My father told me that the voice was almost like the voice of Grandma Kopral – one of the so many grandmas I had, the one that when I was a kid I thought that sometimes she could  be the fiercest human on earth … she married to a Corporal in the Dutch Royal Army, and by living in the barrack learned her ways to be rough and loud at times. Very contradictory to her husband, Grandpa Kopral, who I thought was the meekest man alive.

Not only that ‘barking’ from the door startled my father, but suddenly he also felt a big whoosh beside him as something, or some creature, jumped beside him, over the fence and run toward the lit doorway.

The way my father told the story, that creature was as big as a colt or a calf,  jumping over the fence easily and in three jumps reached the door way and the other creature that was there.

“Who’s that?” the creature in the door way asked.

“I … the son in law of Pak Harjo …” father recalled answering that question. Pak Harjo was the name of my mother’s father, and apparently that name was more known than my father’s – should he answered it with that.

“Ah! Why are you here?” through the misty rain now my father was able to see that the figure was the midwife he came for, a mrs. Paulus. According to my father, mrs. Paulus was a Menadonese – coming from Menado, or Northern Sulawesi, whose people were mostly had fair skin almost like Chinesse.

“I think my wife time has come!” shouted my father. He was still in the gate.

“Ah!” mrs. Paulus seemed hesitated.  Father said he was afraid that the midwife would not come with him, the rain and it was still too early.

But, no. After a moment that seemed ages to my father, mrs. Paulus said, “Pak Harjo, he? The factory’s  overseer? Okay. Wait!”

The door closed again. It was dark again. It seemed ages again.

But at last the door opened. The matronly figure come out wearing a raincoat and the creature that was as big as a colt trying to push out beside her. But mrs. Paulus said sternly, and in Dutch, “Bruno, shut up. Go inside! Now!”

The creature meekly went in and the door was closed by somebody from inside.

Mrs. Paulus opened the gate, came out, and shut it again. “Bruno was too big for this fence, too strong to be chained … he could eat you in two gulps!” she told my father. But after eyeing him, she added, “Maybe only in one gulp! Show me the way!”

“Bruno?” my father asked for the sake of showing that he was alive.

“The dog,” said mrs Paulus. “Come on! Show me the way. Your house is near Kamar Bola, is it?”

(to be continued).

Raffi! Raffi! Raffi!

Tapi tlinga mudamu yang pastinya masih gres baru berumur lima tahun

Seolah ngga dengar dan kamu terus saja berbuat sesuatu yang membuatku

Ingin mencubit pipimu bulat, ingin mencubit kulit pahamu licin.

Ingin menyentil cuping telingamu yang kliatannya segar kalo digigit

Bikin gemes aja

Bikin geram aja

Bikin kamu terus kliatan kalo aku jauh dikit darimu

Raffi! Raffi! Raffi!

Sebel juga knapa ibumu ngga mau mencubitmu walau kamu nakalnya gitu

Nggangguin kakakmu, ngrusakin remote tv, loncat dari tangga tinggi

Main pe es ngga abis abis ngga mau ganti ganti giliran

Liat filem horror ketakutan tapi tetap ngintip dari balik pintu

Bikin gemes aja

Bikin geram aja

Bikin kamu terus kedengaran walau pun rumahmu setengah jam perjalanan

Raffi! Raffi! Raffi!

Matamu itu lo, memancar sinar nakal yang buat cerah hati

Mukamu itu lo, selalu sok tau tapi tiba-tiba memang tau

Celotehmu itu lo, siapa ngga gemes kalo kamu bilang banyak apotik palsu

Padahal yang kamu maksud adalah kosmetik?

Bikin gemes aja

Bikin geram aja

Mmmm …

Bikin kangen aja.

Jakarta, 8 mei 2009.

dan baru sepuluh menit lalu taksiku tinggalkanmu di gerimis tipis pagi hari

ciummu masih terasa di pipi kanan kiri dan di bibir

bukan cium hangat menggebu dan dingin malah bibirmu habis cuci muka

napasku sesak dan mendadak aku kangen kamu

kangen suaramu senyummu tawamu ketidak masuk akalanmu

kangen

dan baru sepuluh menit lalu taksiku tinggalkanmu di gerimis tipis pagi hari

terngiang ucapanmu yang sama sekali jauh dari mesra dahulu

‘biar agus tutup pintu pagar ya aku mau mandi dulu’

lalu ‘ati ati di jalan jangan lupa mium obat’

napasku sesak dan mendadak aku kangen kamu

di taksi sepi sementara di luar pagi masih gelap

kangen

kuhela napas dalam kuhirup tahunan kita berdua

kupejam mata kulihat matamu yang bulat penuh cahaya pertama kita jumpa

kupejam mata kulihat matamu yang tak lagi bulat

tapi tetap bercahaya saat lihat cucu nakal kita

kupejam mata dan aku mengeluh bertanya apakah kamu bahagia

kupejam mata dan kulihat kau menangisiku waktu aku berbaring sakit

napasku sesak dan mendadak aku kangen kamu

di taksi sepi sementara di luar pagi masih gelap

dan gerimis tipis membungkus metro mini menderu pergi

aku cuma pergi sehari

sehari

apa artinya dibanding ribuan hari yang kita telah lewati

ribuan hari yang akan kita lewati

tapi

toh

aku

tiba tiba

kangen

kamu.

Jakata, 6 mei 2009.

I don’t think my father was well to do at the time. Well. He never told me what and how was his life before I could remember it. He never told me about his family. What he told me was just that he was born in Solo, in an aristocratic family – and he had the prove of it on a piece of a legal family tree approved by the Solo Palace. A family tree that went up to Adam and Eve through all the royal houses of old Java. It was written in old Javanese letters, and as father explained it later when I was about 10 years old, he was the son of a Solo Palace leather puppet player who was the snd of a second wife of a prince. That was all I know for certain about my father – plus a bit of little stories here and there of his childhood days. But between childhood until he met my mother this far away from Solo was pitch black. He did mentioned he joined the Dutch Military – that’s all. I saw his photograph, wearing the very dashing cavalry uniform of World War 1 era, on top of a mighty black steed. He was a small man, my father was. But he looked really dashing at that portrait. And there he was. Darting from tree to tree, and then, as he told me, into an alley going up the hill. Leaving the protection of those mighty trees made him soaked wet. And when he came to the house of the midwife, he found that the gate was locked. And the house was dark and quiet. The midwife was one of the most famous in the area. Even the Dutch community used her services. She was a Menadonese called Bidan (Midwife) Paulus. Her house was big, with a large front yard and many big trees. And somehow father told me for once he suddenly felt goose pimples run all over his wet body. He shouted out the midwife name, and banged on the gate. Politely. And he freezed. He felt as if a wet hot towel fell to the nape of his neck. And though the night was icy cold, a burst of hot air blown on top of his head. What was more, the towel like thing on the nape of his neck was moving, too! And at the point when he was about to faint, there was a light inside the dark house in front of him across the gate. (to be continued)

To my, Djokolelono’s,  children, on their mother — a Jewish proverb : “God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers”.

 May 3, 2009: 

“Love is moral even without legal marriage, but marriage is immoral without love.”