The Strangest Afternoon

I actually started writing something for you, a prose that I couldn’t quite finish it. It just seems wrong. The words, the sentences, they seem stilted, forced. It feels like I’m trying too hard to make it rhymes, try as I might, it just doesn’t  seem to work so I left it unfinished. However, there’s this nagging feeling that I need to write something. So as I was doing some chores, my mind wonders to that time I called ‘the strangest afternoon’.

I had planned to visit you with a couple of other friends that day. I had it all figured out when at the last moment life got in the way, I couldn’t figure out how to do all that I want to do that day, something has to give. Our friends last reports says that you are getting better so we thought, okay, we’ll visit you the next day. So off I go to do whatever it was that needs doing.

Ticking off my task list one by one, I was on the way to my last appointment of the day, the one I’ve been looking forward for weeks; to meet with one of my really good friend from BU. Last time we saw each other was graduation. That’s eons ago! So I was super excited. Jakarta being Jakarta, traffic is slow going, light rain was pouring, and I just can’t stop thinking about you. How you seem to be doing just fine, then suddenly got sick, how all of us is praying for your speedy recovery, and yet… Up to that moment, I always pray for a speedy recovery. Yet somehow that afternoon, something is urging me to change my prayer, to wish for the best for you but I don’t really want to do that. That’s usually my last prayer for those too ill to get well and I refuse to entertain that thought. I texted some friends asking for the latest news while there’s this internal debate going on about how to pray for you. Finally I give up. I prayed and hope for the best for you. Whatever it is.

A couple minutes later, a text came in: “Sita, he’s passed away.”

What???

Furious texting to few other people and made a phone call. All I hear is sobbing. A heartfelt sob. Then another text came in formally announcing your passing.

NO!!!

I was so close to the meeting place and I really was looking forward to meet my college friend whom I have not seen since graduation. I was torn. In the end I decided to go ahead and meet him. Who knows when’s the next time he’s coming here. I cried, of course. But few minutes before arriving I told myself, right, get it together don’t cry, this is a happy occasion. And you know, the moment I step into the hotel lobby, it’s like all sadness is on pause. Only happy is allowed.

For the next few hours, it was all happy smiles, laughter, reminiscing, catching up, and even a spot of business talk. My friend is looking into a business venture here and is looking for some insider info. He should’ve paid me for my intel! Naw, it’s all good. Obviously this would just be anecdotal information but if it paved the way for him to invest here, why not? We also talked about class reunion. The Asian contingent really want to have a class reunion in Bali. The North Americans were being geriatric about it, complaining the flight would be too long, the Asians should just come to LA instead. Uh… we already made those long haul flights during college yo…

Soon it was time to go. Snapped some pictures, hope it doesn’t take another 16 years to see each other, then back in the car to go home. And the dam burst again.

Like I said, strange afternoon.

Later on, I was telling my mom about it and I don’t know if she’s being psychic (my mom’s family are somewhat very perceptive about things, some people claim it’s a supernatural ability. I think they’re just very good at reading people) or she just want to console her sad daughter but after I finished my tale, she got quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Your friend is a really good person. He knew he’s going so he’s saying goodbye to his friends, that’s why you keep thinking about him. He was saying goodbye to you…”

I choose to believe my mom.

Yudi is or was, a really good person. A family man who has a big heart  and always wear a smile. He is full of ideas, energetic, very friendly to everyone, has a ton of friends. He has a zest for life. Truly one of a kind.

I am really sorry I didn’t get to visit you again. I did go to your funeral. How strange… your funeral. Even now it seems unreal. We know you have a lots of friends and it shows during your funeral. There were so many people! Little ones, big ones, everyone wants to pay their last respect. It was raining too. Even the weather is sad to see you go.

When it is time, it is time. Goodbye Yudi, it’s been a honour and a privilege to know you. I bet you’re cracking jokes with the angels now, lucky them.

Until we meet again, my friend.

pd indah 210716

 

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Emily Was Never Being Boring

 

I’ve been in a Pet Shop Boys’s mood lately and with that came a flurry of thoughts I thought long forgotten. A kind of musical pensive so to speak. Now, because PSB are British and I started listening to them during my years in a British based school, I started to remember all things associated with my ‘Brit years’ so to speak which is really the Jeddah and the Uni years.

There I was happily remembering things from way past when cue in Being Boring. For some reason this really resonate with those wonderful 3 undergraduate years spent in that bastion of higher education in the North aka the University of Leeds. Then came that ubiquitous verse:

” all the people I was kissing, some are here and some are missing…
but I thought in spite of dreams you’d be sitting somewhere here with me…”

And immediately, without warning nor fanfare, Emily flashed into my mind…

In my third and final year, no longer wanting to share house with squabbling roommates – I’ve enough of the drama, but not really looking forward to live alone, I opt to move back to the comforts of the hall where the rent includes; food (not great but at least I don’t have to cook everyday), utilities (North of England is COLD for my tropical sensibilities) and laundry (it gets expensive and annoyingly boring to have to wait for one’s clothing lest it be stolen by those ruthless fellow students!). However, not wishing to live in the main building with rowdy, rambunctious freshers, I requested to live in the annex, a smaller 3 story building in the next street or road as it was small.

I caught a rather nasty cold just as the term about to start. Not wishing to fly when my sinuses are congested, I decided to wait and recuperate in the comfort of my parents’. Thus I was a couple of days late getting into the annex. After settling my stuff in my single room (blessedly I got the smallest one in the whole house. Great) I venture into the common lounge. I met Becky first, with her distinctive twang she said, “So you’re Sita! Your friends been looking for you! Hey Em, come here!”
Seconds later, a chocolate-brown eyes got into my view, smiled broadly and said, “Oh good, you’re here, now you can answer your door miss Popular!”

Apparently my friends been calling ever since the first day of term. Since we had to fix our final year lodging by the end of our second year, we pretty much know where everyone is going to live so no surprise that they knew where I live. Becky and Emily, while having the good fortune of getting the largest room in the house, it is also situated up front where, like it or not, they would hear every single coming and goings of the annex inhabitant, thus became the unofficial door person of the annex.

They thought I was popular, I quickly corrected, I’m merely a final year student hence the (not so rowdy) people at knocking at the door. Becky and Emily are quickly known as the Americans duo that lived in our hall. Like any good university, Leeds has exchange programs with universities around the world including Vanderbilt University. There’ll be a group of them and they’d be scattered among the various halls and student residences including the one I was in, Ellerslie Hall. Usually they would be paired with a Brit kid like Maura (the American) and Caroline (the English) and placed in the main hall. Becky and Emily are different in that they’re already BFF, shared a room, and lived in the annex.

The annex is basically a small house, so all the inhabitants pretty much see one another nearly everyday and got to know each other pretty quickly too. Since my room is the smallest and their’s the biggest, it wasn’t long before I start popping down there to chill out on their floor. We talked about nothing and everything. I’m curious about America and they would answer all my questions while I tried my best to answer theirs. I love to hear their accents, so different from the Brits. Their commentaries are amusing too; “I opened this magazine, lords and ladies start tumbling out of the pages!” was one that stuck to my head 😀

We talked, we laughed, we go out, I even helped Emily packed once. She had to go on this trip somewhere and was confused as to how to bring all the stuff she wanted to bring. With all my years of packing and unpacking I got curious and opened her suitcase. Well, no wonder. It was packed rather haphazardly. So I simply repacked it to fit everything in. Then, when summer rolled in, they decided to throw a traditional American BBQ. Or was it a picnic? I can’t remember. What they did was somehow they convinced the ruler or the annex to open the back door so we can have it in the yard. I have no idea how they managed to get a grill out. Or was it fried chicken only? It’s a while ago so details are kinda blurry. In any case, the American duo got a bucket of KFC, I made potato salad, and there were burgers, sodas, and rather stronger drinks later on. It was one of those blissful moment where everything is cool, everything is dandy, we’re all full and happy.

With summer came the end of the academic year. We had our teary goodbyes in front of the annex. The American duo returned home. I graduated, went back to my parents and potter about wondering what to do next. That wasn’t the last I saw of them actually. At some point the following year I got a chance to visit the States for the first time! And I got to see them again! This time in their home turf. So different from Leeds.

dinner_beck_em

Only Southern style cooking would do!

It is now Becky and Emily’s final year at school. They were freaking out about grades. I was freaking out about live in general. They rent an apartment off campus and I marvelled at how they simply drive everywhere. Back in Leeds I only know one or two people who brought a car. Most just use public transportation. I got to eat Southern food, visit Grand Ole Opry, and had a fabulous time with the gals. The next year I was enrolled in grad school in Boston and lost touch with all my American connection. Great. My fault really. I’m pretty bad at correspondence.

Fast forward to 2008, Facebook is now available to everyone so of course I started searching these long-lost friends. Becky! Hi! Where’s Emily?

Sadly Emily is no longer with us…

For someone I haven’t seen in years this news knocked me in the solar plexus. I can’t believe Emily is gone. So soon. I’m sad for Becky too. It’s terrible to lost a friend, a best one at that. Especially since they’ve sometimes talked about the future, how fun would it be to take walk in the park as mothers pushing their babies strollers, how they’d plan to live close to one another so their kids can be best friends too. It’s not like I plan to pack my bags and move to Nashville either, but somehow I fully expect to also see their kids via social media, to wish them happy birthdays from afar.

“And we were never holding back or worried that time would come to an end”

But time does come to an end…

I cried then. I cried again now.

I won’t ever see Emily again. Those chocolate-brown hair and beautiful smile… Guess I’ll never found out what happened to that guy who followed her around back in Leeds eh? Not that it mattered anymore.

Becky, I am glad to note, is happily busy with her beautiful family and friends. I love seeing her photos, following the renovation adventure and all the daily family stuff. Forward and onward!

Someday I hope I’ll have the chance to see them again. Until then, good night Emily and good day to you Becky.

beck_Em

The Beautiful American Duo

 

Langit Biru Chika

IMG_2570

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Di bawah langit biru Australia
tetiba teringat aku padamu, Chika
bercerita tentang berjuta cita-citamu

Tentang keinginanmu
untuk bepergian ke berbagai negara
termasuk Amerika, tuk bekerja disana

Dan aku, sangat bisa membayangkanmu
bekerja dan tinggal disana
mungkin di Williamsburg, Queens, atau TriBeCa

Aku bisa melihatmu,
dengan boots dan scarf berwarna
berjalan dari blok ke blok bersama para warga

Commuters, New Yorkers, Manhattanites,
you’ll blend right in!
Of that I’m sure  😉

Ah, aku rasa
tempatmu saat ini lebih ok ya?
lebih keren dari penthouse di Upper East Side

Hanya saja,
sangat jauh dari kita semua

Tuhan menentukan, sementara manusia
hanya bisa berencana…

Sangat jelas langit di Australia
gumpalan awan putih dan langit biru
sejelas daftar cita-citamu

Dalam naungan cakrawala biru
secerah lebarnya senyummu
apa kabarmu disana?

Doa pelipur duka
bahagia di nirwana ya

 

IMG_2202

 

 

 

*between Canberra-Lakes Entrance, Dec 2013*

The One That Got Away?

… and they call it puppy kitty love….

You know those people that manage to be friends with their ex(es)? Some even claimed to be best friends with them. Well, I don’t belong to those people.

I’ve mentioned here how even though I’m no longer in regular contact, I do sort of keep up with them via the grapevine and what not. For the most part, they seem to be doing just fine and I’m happy they are happy. I wish them all the best.

But you know, memory is a curious thing. Like most people, I put music as background sound while working – it helps me concentrate – and sometimes my playlist would choose something that would remind me of them. Like right now.

I guess it’s the combination of the song and the current time that stops me at my tracks. It is the holy month of Ramadhan and suddenly I just remember how he used to remind me to pray on time. I think he was the first friend who ever did that for me and it sticks.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I was hanging out with the bad crowd and he was the saviour. Oh no, my youth is not that dramatic. But back then, I wasn’t very conscious about religion. It’s there, it’s part of my make up but I didn’t really think about it that much. He was the first friend who nudged me about that. At school or during our lengthy phone calls, he’d remind me if it was praying time and would stop the call to do so. He’d call me right back and resume the conversation 😉

He was a very kind boy and I heard he grew to be a kind man too. We parted mostly due to distance and age. We were still in our teens, living in different countries, definitely we were not thinking about marriage anytime soon so we didn’t fight for it. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t broken hearted when it happened. We both knew it wasn’t realistic to keep it going but wasn’t quite ready to call it quits either.

It’s not like I had lines of other boys waiting to go out with me. In fact I didn’t really date anyone at all after him. But after we part oceans, it just seems strange to call someone your boyfriend and not there to prove it. We did tried, we send letters and meet up during the holiday. The letters were not frequent to begin with, but I had look forward to it, gladly penned replies. Somehow, “…it just got colder…” as he puts it (don’t ask how I remember that particular line from his final letter. I just did) It just got strange…

Somewhere deep inside I mourned him though it was a mutual decision. Thankfully there was an avalanche of school work, a flurry of activities to keep me going, and of course, new land to explore. Such was the joy of being an expat brat. Eventually the pain ceased. Life continues.

I sometimes wonder what would happen had we stayed in touch. Would we get back together? Was he the one that got away?

As it turned out, he is not. Oh he turned out just fine, he was a good catch, good husband material, just not mine. People change as they grow. That’s what happened to us I think. We change. We didn’t became bad people, we just grew up.

He sorta became the benchmark of the guys that came after him. Guys that are kind, smart,  intelligent, cute, and religious.  So I am glad I met him because I knew for sure that guys with that kind of criteria exist.

So no, he’s not the one that got away. Because the one that is for me? Now him I don’t let go. Nor he me 🙂

My Beautiful Strangers

So there I was puttering in the house when the playlist, that I always set at random, choose Madonna’s Beautiful Stranger. Suddenly my mind is transported back to Summer of 99… 🙂

Back then I was graduate student living a stress free (yeah right!) life in Boston. My best mates were Rob and Matt. All of us were in the same COM class of ’00 though Matt was in Production like me and Rob was in TV Management. In the first semester we share a fair amount of classes together and we just clicked. Soon the three of us would hang out everywhere together.

Between internship and the already paid rent I decided to stay during the summer instead of going home. Matt and Rob were also staying in town. So of course we spend even more time hanging out together. Of the three of us, Rob is the only one with a proper paying job, that’s how he supports himself through school. Thus he’s the one with a car and during that summer he decided to bought a new car. I don’t for the live of me remember what the car was, all I remember was that it was an SUV, black, with only 2 doors cuz he said 4 doors are for families. Whatever. It means Matt and I were always fighting to ride shotgun. He likes that. Evil!

Rob’s job involved him going out-of-town for a couple of weeks or so, then stay in town for a few. He’s in union too so it was a very well paid job compared to the rest of us (yeah so say the trust fund baby with the monkey servant and elephant showers – ok that’s an inside jokes 😉 Now that he has a car, whenever he’s in town he likes to pack us up and go somewhere. So off we go. Sometimes we just go to chill out around Boston, sometimes we go further like to New York or to the Cape. He’d lug us there, took us to his favourite place to have clam chowder then we’d hit the beach.

It was during one of these sunset session at the Cape that we really opened up to one another. This sounds really cliché but we talked about our hopes, our dreams, our fears. We have another year of school then off to the real world we go. Matt and Rob (no, they’re not a couple) were planning to move to NYC and I was not sure where to go. I don’t want to go home just yet, I want to go to LA but neither of them wants to go there. Rob because his job’s HQ is in NY so if he wants to move to management it makes more sense to be there rather than somewhere else. Matt, well he’s from the NY State so it’s like going home for him. They were trying to persuade me to come with them, pointing out the benefit of being in the Big Apple, “We could live together like Friends!” Err… as much as I love you guys, I really don’t want to live with you. No thank you.

As the moon rose, the sea gets really dark. I suddenly quipped, “To think, my family is on the other side of the ocean…” and it hits me, sooner or later this is just going to be a memory. I am going home eventually. I am going to miss my two best friends very much. We joked that I should get married to Rob (cuz Matt already have a girlfriend somewhere) to get a green card then split immediately. Haha! Now that would be really funny. My parents would kill me for a start…

What has this got to do with Beautiful Strangers? Well, it was in Austin Powers, a movie that came out that summer, that we watched together and have a good laugh. It was on the radio during our trips, alternating with Ricky Martin and J-Lo. So yeah, here we are more than a decade later. I’m firmly at home and those two are firmly at NY. I kinda lost touch with Matt, last I heard he’s doing just fine. I hope so. Rob updates his fb every now and then so I know he’s definitely doing good.

Here’s to my beautiful strangers, may you stay well and beautiful. Cheers!

The Beautiful Strangers in Boston

One Day at the Supermarket

One fine day, as I go through my grocery list, I think of you

I think of how you would probably like the tasty oranges currently in season

or perhaps a bite of a  Yang Lie Pear as favoured by my children

 

I move to the vegetables section,

Like my mom, you also like raw greens

It’s the Sunda trait in both of you

I saw the chillies and think how your wife always eats her dinner with sambal

if that’s not available, then, raw chilli(es) it is

and how that amuses you

 

I pass the chocolate section

You like chocolates right? I know one of your brother does

Apparently your brother likes to hide them so other can’t find it.

Did you?

 

I push my trolley, and I think of you

Of your gentle smile

Your ever-present quirky humour

“You know, she’s not really alone, there’s a director and the crew over there…”

would be your comment upon a particularly scary scene in a movie

So typical of my mum’s family 😀

 

We shared partial dna

and my mum told many stories

of growing up with you

that I feel I know you

 

I don’t see you that often

But when we do, you always bestow a quick kiss on the forehead

as you do to all your nieces

regardless whether we’re 5, 10 or 35.

 

Wa Emon,

you leave us

with your gentle smile

giving us too, a smile amidst our tears

 

Inna lillahi wa inna illaihi rojiun

 

Take care Uwa,

You’re in good hands

Some of the family are already there to greet you

Your dad and your son in particular

I know you’re happy there

 

Until we meet again

 

lebak bulus 24212

When Tropical Disease made a Visit

When I was newly married, nature decided to give us a wedding present in the form of DB or Dengue Fever. Yep. In just less than a month after the wedding. I didn’t know it was DB, at first I just thought it was cough and sore throat, then I thought it was a nasty flu, so I just go to the local md to get some meds. But after a while I still don’t get better and I was feeling very weak,  so weak that I didn’t have the energy to shower that we decided to go back to the doctor.

This time we go to my husband’s internist in the hospital. He saw me, actually to be honest I didn’t remember what he said anymore. At that point I was barely hearing what he was saying. So anyway, off we go to pay the bill. Now, I really was not feeling well, but I think my husband still thinks I was just being a big baby. I told him I want to sit down then proceed to sit on the floor. I distinctly remember telling him I just want to sit down. I wasn’t fainting, nor was I falling, but this being a hospital suddenly there’s a commotion of people and nurses screaming, “Oh my God! She’s fainting/falling!!!” I think I was still trying to defend myself saying, “No, I’m not. I just want to sit!” but of course nobody hears you.  A wheelchair suddenly materialise and the next thing I know I was carted to the emergency room and put on the bed.

Mind you, I did feel much better on the bed. All I wanted to do was rest. And they gave me rest. Took my blood too I think. And my hubby? I think he was panicked. His new wife is really ill. The nurse was asking him all sorts of questions. Questions he doesn’t know the answer to like do I have any allergy (remember we’ve been married for about a month, knowing your allergies aren’t top of our priorities 😉 fortunately, I can still hear (I didn’t faint, I was just tired) so I whispered my answers to got the appropriate wristband colour. He then sorted administration, got me a room and off we go. Being wheeled on a bed was certainly a new experience, not one I would like to repeat anytime soon. I think what was weirder was looking at my hospital bracelet and saw how long my name was. Now, I know my first and second name is rather long, 9 letters on the first and 8 on the second, but I didn’t think 17 letters would take up all the space in the bracelet. Upon closer inspection I notice the culprit. My husband’s name is added. Aha! No wonder. 23 letters do take up much space. Although to be honest my first thought was, what the heck is his name doing there? Oh yeah, we’re married. Duh.

We settled in the room. He got me a single room, thank God for insurance, and well the treatment begun. Good thing the doctor caught it early. I soon recovered and hope not to ever catch it again! Still, it doesn’t change the fact that we begin the second month of our marriage by… spending time in a hospital. Romantic eh?

Of Round Table Dinners

Enter students...

A friend was writing about bringing wine to a gathering and not sure why, but suddenly it reminds me of my uni days.

Back in ole Blighty, I used to share a pint cider until my friend moved up to lager and the other one took a fancy to Guinness. There I was at the Met, nursing half a pint of cider forever while my former ‘drinking buddy’ is on only he, the barman, and God knows how many pint of whatever.

and that's what a pint looks like...

Shortly after, another friend introduced me to Bailey’s. Sweet, smooth Bailey’s. Double shot with ice courtesy of the trusty Old Bar and their selection of after exam specials, desperately trying not to rehash the papers we just sat. We didn’t do too badly though my friend did better.

"I hereby declare I am of legal age..."

Then I moved to the States. There, they don’t do lager but this piss coloured, and probably tasted as well, liquid called beer. Smells foul. But being older students, my friends don’t do beer. They do wine! I can not tell the difference between a Merlot and a Chablis to save my life but I do hang around them enough to know that Rose is not just a type of flower.

I don’t know whether it is the libation of choice or the age but the wine set definitely mellower than the lager/Bailey set.

No wine by the looks of it. Is that why Rob looks unhappy?

Brandon would tuck into his steak and taste the reds appreciatively. Fred and Rob would be twirling their goblets while discussing the merit of various years they’ve tasted and bought and pour some more. Where was I? Usually nibbling on cheese, cracker, grapes (the actual fruit) with a glass of water. Or just happily eating my dinner while listening to dinner chatter.

The lager set were bouncy (as in bopping up and down the clubs) happy people. The wine set were chilled out happy people. I don’t miss the drinks but I sure miss the people. I miss them. I miss the camaraderie of hanging out, lounging after a good dinner talking about this and that and when the clock strikes 12, we turned into pumpkin and start talking about God and existentialism, sprouting all kinds of communication theories and ideologies. Hello there Marx, Stuttgart, Truffault, Chomsky, Weaver, the burning bed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer for good measure.

Under the influence even cleaning up is fun!

Oh! How I miss those days.

Well, one of these days I’ll see them again. Sooner rather than later. I hope.

Of Street Lights at Night

The Lovely Monas

Some time ago I had lunch with Dita, one of my dearest friend. We noticed how we have changed. We still feel young as ever and yet there were little things that says, you’re aging babe!

We were reminiscing how in our 20’s, still flush with excitement of that first job we’re able to go out after work to dinner then continue partying till whenever and still be fresh enough to go to brunch the next day. Now, the spirit is there but if push comes to shove, I’d rather go to sleep especially now I have this wonderfully comfy bed to sleep on. I sound like an old fogey don’t I?

But seriously I don’t miss Ebony, Fire, Musro, B.. what was the number? B-something, all that much. Yes sometime I do feel like dancing but the smoke and the drunks I can do without. I really don’t fancy smelling like a walking ashtray anymore. None of my dancing partner live over here anyway, so really no reason to go anymore (I mean the whole point is to dance, on the table preferably, not standing around in heels looking like immobile beings).

Having said all that, there is one thing I quite miss from those dancing days. The drive home.

a rare sight

Jakarta in the wee hours is actually very pretty, certain parts are just downright gorgeous. There is something about the almost empty street with the lights on. The busy capital is taking a break, relaxing for awhile before the hordes of workers come trampling back in the morning. It is a time to appreciate the wonder that is Sudirman, our major CBD. With the large roads, wide sidewalks, plenty of greens and gleaming skyscrapers, Jakarta looks like any major cities in the world. It looks rich, modern, cosmopolitan; power dealers, movers shakers, they’re all here. Resting behind or even on those tall glass buildings.

roti bakar, bubur ayam, internet, teh botol? Semua aya....

The wonderful thing about Jakarta is that it is never completely without people. You just need to know where to look and then you see then. Food stalls selling toast bread, chicken porridge there, the ubiquitous Internet or noodles, egg and corned beef. Sometimes we stop to eat. All those dancing makes one rather hungry. And when we do, nobody bats an eyelid. Fellow revellers. Under the harsh neon the true you emerged. Who are the true beauty, who’s cute, whose phone number worth keeping, etc. Sometimes we just go straight home. The need for pillow over-rides the wants of the tummy.

The drive home. The one thing I truly miss from those days though even then don’t actually go out all that often. So when I do I always make sure I drink up the scene that unfolds before my eyes because I never know when the next time I’ll be able to witness it again.

good night, sleep tight...

Bukan Pada Pandangan Pertama

Kisah kita
Bukan dongeng cinderella
Tentang putri dan pangeran
Bertemu dan bercinta
Di istana selamanya

Cerita kita
Via elektronika
Setiap pagi layar dibuka
Sembari berdoa
“Oh inbox, berilah tanda
Ada surel dari dia!”

Saksi kita
Bukan awan dan matahari
Melainkan modem dan kabel optik
Membawa ribuan rangkaian 1 dan 0
Berpacu menembus laut dan daratan

Cinta kita
Bukan pada pandangan pertama
Namun kalau boleh dikata
Pada surel pertama!

Kita mungkin memang gila
Menyambut tawaran emak-emak muda
Dengan semangat comblang empatlima
Tapi terpujilah mereka!

Sigaraning jiwo,
Demikianlah sejarah kita
Sebagai pengingat anak-anak kita
Bagaimana mereka bisa berada

Semoga bersamamu aku bisa
Membangun istana yang kekal nantinya
Untuk kita
BersamaNya

*happy anniversary babeh gibol*
*ms Yuli & ms Yudit, we owe you. Hope you receive your respective castles :)”