My life, according to me

CHAPTER 1, Once there was a baby, continued.

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)

KARIN’S WISDOM TEETH, 2

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

KARIN’S WISDOM TEETH

My friend Karin had her wisdom teeth pulled out or something. It was very painful experience. Not knowing about the pain related to it, one of her son asked her, “If your wisdom tooth is pulled out, do you still have any wisdom left?” Well. In respect to Karin’s teeth, I’d like to dedicate this part of my blog to wisdom sayings I picked up here and there. I hope I have enough wisdom for every day.  Here’s to you, Karin!

 May 3, 2009: 

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

 

My life, according to me.

CHAPTER 1 : ONCE THERE WAS A BABY.  But of course. The baby was me. And — of course I don’t know exactly what happened to this baby, long time ago. All I know about it was through the stories of others.

I was born on a Monday, very early, even before the sun had  risen, long time ago on a Monkey Year. I was a year older than our Republic. The story about my earliest existence came from my father, blessed his soul. He told me that it was a very dark, damp, drizzled morning or late night. He had to wear a kind of cloth to protect his body from the thin rain. And remember, that was the time when electricity was not yet invented as a public commodity — no electric street lights yet, and houses with electric lights were only a few. Flash light was also a luxury.

So there was my father, as I saw him in his story, darting from tree to tree that lining up the street, to get more protection from the light rain. He didn’t have to dart, actually. The trees were big ‘asam’ trees,tamarind trees,  strong, sturdy, tall and had so many thick branches so that even on the heaviest rain you would be untouched by  the pouring water walking under them. I guess the reason father darted from tree to tree was that the night, or the morning, was so dark and he used the white washed trunks of the trees as a kind of a guide.

The tamarind trees and the whitewashed tree trunks were  an inheritance from the thoughtful planning of the Dutch. The Dutch government — as told by one of my so many Grandpas — edicted that each regency in the country had certain trees for their streets. Hence, for instance, Malang Regency would have canary trees. Blitar regency had tamarind trees. Not only that those trees were strong, shady, longlasting (many of them are still standing proudly in, for instance, Bogor), they also made area recognition easier — soon as you don’t see any canary trees, you are already leaving Malang Regency.

Well. That is another story. Coming back to my father darting from tree to tree. I always think my father was a ‘gentleman’ — at least he could read and write, and his long hand writings was very very fine, and he was a romantic — a combination you could not easily find on the men of those era. He left home to fetch a midwife — and the best midwife there was — out of his duty and love to his very young labouring wife. My mother was 18 when she gave birth to me — and I was her second child already! We had a big family, with many grandpas, uncles — but father decided to go himself, fearing that others would fetch just any midwife they could find.

(to be continued)

It’s only words, and words are all I have …

 

Smile an everlasting smile,

a smile can bring you near to me.

Don’t ever let me find you gone,

cause that would bring a tear to me.

This world has lost its glory,

let’s start a brand new story now, my love.

Right now, there’ll be no other time

and I can show you how, my love.

Talk in everlasting words,

and dedicate them all to me.

And I will give you all my life,

I’m here if you should call to me.

And you think that I don’t even mean

a single word I say.

It’s only words,

and words are all I have

to take your heart away.

Bee Gees.

Always Remember Poem

Always Remember Poem

Always remember to forget
The things that made you sad
But never forget to remember
The things that made you glad.

Always remember to forget
The friends that proved untrue.
But don’t forget to remember
Those that have stuck by you.

Always remember to forget
The troubles that have passed away.
But never forget to remember
The blessings that come each day.