Hilang

“It had never occurred to me that our lives, which had been so closely interwoven, could unravel with such speed. If I’d known, maybe I’d kept tighter hold of them and not let unseen tides pull us apart.”

Never Let Me Go (2010)

Hai. Sudah lama sekali saya tidak menulis di sini. Banyak hal yang harusnya bisa saya tulis namun akhirnya saya hanya bisa menyalahkan waktu dan urgensi hal lain yang lebih utama. Oh ya, pernah tidak merasa kesal ketika sedang sangat ingin menulis tetapi yang kamu lakukan hanyalah mengetik dan menghapus tulisanmu? I’ve been there a lot. Tulisannya gak pernah jadi.

Peringatan:

1. Jika kamu adalah orang yang tidak suka tulisan dengan gaya bahasa campur aduk (sudah saya katakan), sebaiknya berhentilah membaca. Sekarang.

2. Jika kamu adalah orang yang tidak suka membuang waktu percuma, sebaiknya berhentilah membaca. Sekarang.

3. Jika orang yang saya bicarakan nanti adalah kamu, teruslah membaca.

Terimakasih atas kepercayaan dirimu. Mari kita lihat nanti.

Ide untuk menulis muncul ketika tadi pagi saya terbangun dari mimpi. Mimpi tentang seseorang yang mengingatkan saya pada satu rasa: kehilangan. Rasanya seperti kehilangan beberapa bagian yang menjadikan diri saya menjadi “saya”. Ini terjadi di akhir tahun 2015 lalu, ketika saya akhirnya dicalonkan untuk meneruskan kepengurusan himpunan.

Tahun 2015 saya diamanahi menjadi sekretaris umum di GEMASI (Gelanggang Mahasiswa Sastra Inggris); himpunan sastra Inggris di tempat saya berkuliah. Di akhir kepengurusan, saya diajak ngobrol oleh ketua dengan tujuan agar saya mau menjadi calon ketua kepengurusan berikutnya.  Mengenai pemilihan calon ketua, himpunan saya menggunakan cara:

1. Menebarkan survei kepada Gemasian (sebutan mahasiswa aktif GEMASI) tentang orang yang mereka pilih sebagai calon ketua;

2. Meminta persetujuan 10 besar calon ketua terpilih untuk maju ke tahap berikutnya;

3. Orasi para calon ketua yang bersedia;

4. Voting calon ketua

Oleh karena ada tahap nomor 2, ketua saya bersama teman-teman pengurus angkatan 2012 lainnya membujuk saya agar mau menjadi calon ketua.

Tahap survei selesai, dan terpilihlah 3 calon ketua yang terdengar diharapkan oleh seluruh angkatan. Tiga calon itu adalah saya, Deden Kurnia Syam dan Rian Fauzan. Saya dipilih karena mungkin ikut kepengurusan yang lalu dan dinilai cukup tahu bagaimana organisasi GEMASI ini berjalan. Deden dipilih karena he’s everybody’s love heart. Deden dikenal mengetuai segala peracaraan di lingkungan kampus, bisa masuk ke dalam lingkungan manapun dan punya IPK paling tinggi seangkatan. Yang terakhir Rian, sama seperti Deden, sepertinya tidak ada yang tidak suka padanya. Well, ini cerita tentang Rian. Sayangnya, bukan kamu. Mau berhenti membaca sudah kepalang penasaran, bukan?

Oke saya lanjutkan.

Sore itu di sekretariat Gemasi, panitia pemilihan umum rapat mengenai calon ketua. Saya sampai pada waktu itu belum bisa memutuskan akan maju sebagai calon atau tidak. Sialnya, saya nimbrung rapat dan mau tidak mau mendengar bujuk rayu semua panitia. Deden pun ada disitu. Oh, saya lupa. Deden adalah ketua panitia pemilihan umum Gemasi. Cerdik memang. Mana bisa ketua panitia maju sebagai calon ketua Gemasi? Deden secara tidak langsung tidak akan maju sebagai calon ketua karena tugasnya. Tersisa saya dan Rian.

Saya sengaja keluar ruangan sekretariat karena tidak mau mendengar apa yang mereka rencakan. Saya chat Rian dan menanyakan keberadaannya. Saya bilang ingin ngobrol. Dia meng-iya-kan untuk segara datang ke sekretariat. Dia pun meminta nomor handphone saya, “Kali aja butuh,” begitu alasannya.

Rapat selesai. Sudah hampir maghrib. Beberapa orang di antara kami mengeluhkan lapar, termasuk saya. Kami memutuskan untuk pergi makan ke Mekdi di daerah Cibiru, Bandung. Saya mencium bau-bau konspirasi beberapa panitia yang masih berusaha membujuk saya dan Rian. Kami yang berangkat dari Nangor akan bertemu Rian di sana karena Rian sedang berada di rumah temannya di Bandung.

Sehabis shalat maghrib akhirnya kami sampai di Mekdi Cibiru. Disana ada saya dan beberapa panitia pemilihan umum, teman-teman saya, termasuk Deden dan ketua kepengurusan yang lalu, Nia. Kami memesan makanan sambil menunggu Rian. Rian datang dan langsung duduk di samping saya. Kursi di samping saya memang dibiarkan kosong karena ya untuk Rian duduk. Bau konspirasi.

Beberapa hari yang lalu, setelah hasil survei keluar, Rian memang bilang ingin ngobrol dengan saya. Nia penasaran soal apa yang akan Rian bicarakan. Nia, sialnya, duduk berhadapan dengan saya yang secara otomatis jika hal tersebut saya bicarakan saat itu, Nia akan tahu. Orang-orang di sekeliling meja kami bilang, “Sok (ayo), rundingin aja dulu.” Saya dan Rian berunding. Berunding di depan mereka. Dengan suara yang kecilpun masih bisa terdengar. Mekdi penuh, tidak ada tempat di sekeliling kami yang kosong. Perfect.

Perasaan saya kala itu masih ragu. Saya masih kurang percaya diri jika nanti maju sebagai ketua. Memimpin sendiri. Saya tanyakan pilihan kepada panitia pemilihan umum, “Kalau seandainya aku ketua dan mau ada wakil boleh gak?” dan jawaban yang saya terima membuat saya sedikit lega. Oke, saya tawarkan kepada Rian, “Cong (panggilan Rian oleh teman-teman), kalau kamu jadi wakilku gimana?” Rian menatap saya. Ia masih ragu karena tidak punya basic apapun tentang GEMASI akunya.

“Tapi emang kamu gak apa-apa kalau aku jadi wakilmu?,” tanyanya sangat rendah hati. Saya meng-iya-kan dan kami pun bersalaman tanda kami setuju untuk maju. Semua berteriak, “YEAY!”

10 P.M : Malam itu, Rian membawa motor temannya. Ia bilang akan mengembalikan motor itu dahulu kemudian pulang. Rumahnya di Bandung. Sebelum pulang, ia bersalaman dengan Deden dan berkata, “Aing udah bikin maraneh seneng kan.” Deden senyum dan bilang, “Hati-hati ya Cong, jangan ngebut.”

10.30 P.M : Saya sudah di kosan. Sudah kenyang, saya tidur dan menatap langit-langit kamar mengingat keputusan besar yang saya ambil. Handphone saya mati sementara badan saya sangat malas untuk berpindah lagi. Saya ketiduran, tidak ada firasat apapun.

06.30 A.M : Ya, saya terlambat shalat subuh. Tunggu, saya mendengar suara ketukan pintu. Perlahan-lahan saya coba membuka mata. Berat sekali. Sebelum bangun, saya mencoba berpikir suara siapa itu. Oh Deden. Suaranya khas, sangat berat. “Pus, Pus”. Pikiran saya jahat, saya ingat bahwa hari itu saya sudah bilang bahwa saya, Rian, dan Deden akan membuat program kerja untuk keperluan orasi. Saya pikir untuk mengabaikan saja dan berpura-pura masih tidur. Ternyata, Deden tidak mau menyerah. Akhirnya saya terbangun dan membuka pintu. Kami berada di ambang pintu.  

Mata saya belum dapat secara jelas melihat. “Pus,”

“Acong udah gak ada.”

“Maksudnya?”

“Iya, Acong udah gak ada”

Saya sudah bisa melihat, mata Deden merah.

“Apaan sih Den?”

“Acong meninggal.”

“Gak usah bercanda deh.”

“Iya, Pus.”

Badan saya runtuh, jatuh. Saya menangis sejadi-jadinya dan berteriak, masih tidak percaya. Deden memeluk saya, “Ayo kita ke Bandung”. Tanpa bersiap-siap, saya membawa hal seadanya, dan berangkat. Di sana, saya lihat dia. Terbaring kaku dan dingin. Melayang ingatan saya pada malam yang lalu. Saya masih menjabat tangannya dan tersenyum.

Rian kecelakaan setelah pulang dari Mekdi. Dia masih bisa menelpon teman yang memiliki motor yang ia kendarai. Ya, kawasan Cibiru memang sangat gelap pada malam hari. Ada saja pengendara yang sembrono menyebrang ke arah jalan yang lain. Dan Rian menjadi korban pengendara itu. Rian mencoba menghindari pengendara itu, dan dia terjatuh. Sayangnya, ada motor lain dari belakang yang menabrak punggungnya.

Rian masih bisa dibawa oleh temannya ke rumah sakit terdekat. Ia masih sadar dan menolak temannya kala menghubungi keluarganya agar datang, “Udah aing gak apa-apa.” Tetapi sekitar pukul 12 malam keluarganya datang. Rian tidak sakit dari luar. Dari tubuh yang kelihatan oleh mata, ia tidak apa-apa. Namun, pukul 4 pagi ia menghembuskan napas terakhirnya.

Tulisan ini bukan wujud ketidakikhlasan, namun saya masih menyesal tidak dekat dengannya sejak dulu. Pribadi yang sangat baik kepada semua orang, tidak pernah marah jika diledek, dan setia. Tidak usah saya ceritakan bagaimana kesetiannya. Baru saja saya berpikir dia akan berkembang bersama saya, ternyata Tuhan iri ingin lebih dekat dengannya.

Jangan bosan. Ada satu lagi cerita tentang kehilangan. Kehilangan diri saya yang dulunya percaya.

Bukan kecelakaan ini saja yang membuat saya merasa kehilangan. Ada satu lagi kejadian kecelakaan yang membuat saya sekarang berpikir ulang, “Apakah saya sedekat itu dengannya?” Kejadian ini sama, di akhir tahun 2015 pula. Ada teman saya yang mengalami kecelakaan yang mengakibatkan dirinya kehilangan ingatan untuk waktu yang sementara.

Saya berniat menjenguknya di rumah sakit. Sudah banyak yang cerita kalau dirinya tidak diingat. Saya masuk dan ternyata saya termasuk ke dalam orang yang tidak dia ingat. Dia menjadi orang yang sangat berbeda dari orang yang kenal dekat dengan saya. Seperti baru kembali mengenalnya, saya merasa ada yang hilang. Baru saja saya melihatnya kembali setelah rutinitas kampus yang tidak ada habisnya, saya bertemunya dalam kondisi dia yang menjelma seperti orang asing.

Tidak masalah bagi saya untuk tidak diingat. Banyak yang akan mendoakannya agar bisa sembuh dan kembali beraktivitas, ingatan tentang saya mungkin akan kalah dengan yang lain sehingga hal ini yang bermasalah bagi saya sekarang. Sampai saat ini, saya masih belum bisa membuang pikiran bahwa dia adalah orang yang berbeda.  Bukan, bukan salah dia. Ini salah saya yang terlanjur percaya diri bahwa saya memang sudah sedekat itu dengannya; bahwa saya salah. Sudah berusaha memulihkan pikiran saya, namun segala makhluk dan kejadian dunia terasa meng-iya-kan. Berlebihan.

Kehilangan bukan hal yang baru bagi saya. Saya sudah merasakan hal itu sejak saya merasa sangat dekat dengan seseorang di masa lalu, bahkan secara fisik. Kami sering bertemu dulu. Saya lumayan sering approach dengan bilang kangen secara personal, upload foto masa lalu dan segala macamnya. Namun, masanya sudah beda. Saya sudah dalam tahap mengganggap bahwa “kangen” itu klise dan tidak berarti apa-apa. Saya sudah terbiasa dengan kehilangan dan berusaha meraih kembali kedekatan itu namun berkali-kali jatuh dan menyesal. Menyesal karena, hipotesa yang saya buat, bahwa saya tidak sedekat itu dengan mereka, kembali terbukti.

Saya tidak berani lagi menampakkan diri, tidak mau percaya diri lagi. Apa yang bisa saya lakukan kecuali bermimpi, untuk dekat kembali. Sudahi. 

Puisi Tidak Konvensional, Rima, Bentuk, Kita

Bertemu dalam satu payung kelas
Sudah percaya dan mengerti tidak berbatas
Cek-cok, maaf, belajar, coretan putihnya kertas
Sama-sama, terpisah, bertemu dan kumpul di Kansas
Berbeda daerah, status, keahlian, kegemaran, beda asas

Sembilan kepala bergabung dalam satu bingkai dan asli
Si gaul pemain biola, tukang gila belanja, sensi
Pelit, gudang musik 90-an, tukang jual-beli
Si super rajin, model, dan juga penyanyi
Yang mana, sila tebak sendiri

A Chosen Level of Peter Hollindale’s Ideology Appeared in Joseph Jacobs’ Three Stories through The Characterization and The Frequent Elements

Peter Hollindale has explained that children literature books have three levels of ideology which are ‘made up the explicit social, political, or moral beliefs of the individual writer’, ‘imply the individual writer’s un-examined assumptions’ by recognizing the texture of language, and ‘inscribed within the words of the text.’ One of many kinds of those children literature books is a genre of fairy tale. Fairy tale in the nineteenth century was something believed by many Victorian writers as ‘an ideal vehicle for influencing the minds and morals of the reading.’ In this era, which the industrial revolution in England was happened, ‘the few at the expense of the many mass of urban poor having come into existence’, the materialistic society also founded on greed. I think by the existence of urban poor and also the greed people in this era, many writers of children literature made their characters into that stereotype. By this issue and the fact in my opinion it has relation with children literature, I will conclude which one of the three levels of ideology of Peter Hollindale appeared in the three stories of Joseph Jacobs, “Lazy Jack”, “The Three Sillies”, and “The Story of Mr. Vinegar” through their characterization of poor fellow and stupid character and the supportive frequent elements in their own story events that may imply the writer’s wish to recommend the message to children.

As in this case I will choose which Peter Hollindale’s level of ideology, I am trying to give a little explanation I understood from the three of them. In the first level, it says that the story gives an explicit view of the writer about the social, political, or moral beliefs as in the Sarah Fielding’s Governess whose character explain the moral values explicitly to the other characters in the story. Second level explains the possibility of the writer’s assumptions in the story read by the readers while the third one is about the power of the ideology itself in forcing the text to be more natural as it is inscribed within the words. I am also using the characterization of poor fellow which in Knowles’ and Malmkjær’s “Language and Control in Children’s Literature” described as ‘a very strong indication of impeding calamity’ but I find the contradictory situations in these three stories which I will explain later. Besides characterization, I use the frequency to confirm myself that may be this is the writer’s implicit intentions from these stories to tell the message to the children.

In “Lazy Jack”, a story about a boy whose name is Jack forcing himself to be hired as he is being told that if he could not find any job his mother ‘would turn him out to get his living as he could’, powers up its character since the beginning. As it is stated, ‘they [are] very poor.’ with a simple explanation of Jack who is ‘[Doing] nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth in the winter-time.’ and that is the reason why he is called ‘lazy’, the story somehow gives a first impression to me that it may flow by bringing out the stupidity of Jack.

The story brings its narrative events by the setting of time day-to-day. Jack who is hired by different people day by day failed to bring things as his fees to his house like penny, a jar of milk, a cream cheese, a large tom-cat, and a shoulder of mutton because he just cannot bring them in proper ways. His mother always states that he is stupid and orders him to do the proper ways based on the things he brings that day. The frequent says of Jack replying to his mother’s orders ‘I’ll do so another time’, probably keeps the story to still go on. Instead of asking how if he will be given a different thing tomorrow that it means ‘his mother’s method’ will not work anymore, he is just obedient to his mother’s orders. In this case, Jack may imply to give an image of children, at least his mother’s son, who has to be given more explanation of what his mother has told him. His mother is probably a character related to adults in real society. It is a relation between how adults must give a further explanation of what their children may face in their lives. I think that it is as same as the time when a child is given a chance to choose a reading book to be read. As in Knowles’ and Malmkjær’s “Language and Control in Children’s Literature” states:

.....it has been feared that literature might have a detrimental effect, and that it should therefore not be left to the child to choose for itself which books to read.

It is also supported when Jack does not ask for another explanation for his mother’s orders, he fails for over and over. The burden to ask is not just the only thing that is meant to be concerned, as in the case which-book-should-I-choose it ‘should be taught to consider it a duty, to consult their parents in this momentous concern.’ The mother’s orders done to him may also imply didactic method that children’s literature has. Its purpose to tell children that this is good and another is bad comes to the surface implicitly although it is being told by not-so-good way like telling Jack is stupid. In the end of this story, Jack can surprisingly get a beautiful girl recovered from deaf and dumb because he can make her ‘burst out into a great fit of laughter’ when she looks out the window seeing Jack is carrying a donkey on his shoulders going back to home from work. His stupidity leads him to his fortune to marry the girl whose father is rich. Again, the case that children can ‘must form their own mental representation of characters, places and actions’ with the upcoming fact that they are also unable to be abandoned and should directed by their parents, the moral value gets my attention. Children still have less experience that it possibly makes them miss to get what should have really taken from a story. Moreover, this story implicitly tells that being stupid is something fine that the character finally finds his true happiness in the end.

The second story is The Three Sillies which is about a gentleman who travels a long way to find people who are sillier than a farmer family whose daughter has been courted by him. The story begins when the daughter of the family is always being sent to draw a beer in the cellar for supper. She begins to feel afraid when she looks a mallet stuck in one of the beams. She is eaten by her over thoughts that she supposes something in her mind. She states:

Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I'm doing now, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!

The frequent says of the daughter is repeated by her mother and her father when they wonder that she does not come back after looking for a beer in the cellar. Her mother and father also do the same thing with her that they repeat the same statement. The frequent says in this case makes the other characters do the same thing that probably if the daughter does not say any words of it, it does not happen for all members of the family find themselves end in a miserable cellar. The frequent events of saying also perhaps become the supportive argument to get the reader in believing family’s stupidity. The fact that finally the gentleman is succeed in finding the other sillies people than this family powers up the nothingness thing that should be taken from this story as a moral value. In addition, I think not every folktale has to explain something, but maybe it is just a matter of entertainment since the title is interesting for children.

From the beginning of the story, the indication of a poor fellow does not appear but since the gentleman travels searching for other sillies people, the environment is quite describing that it is a poor fellow environment like when the gentleman met the woman in her cottage trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to get the grass, then in another time he found another silly person who cannot put his trousers on in inn, and he also met the group that assumed moon was on the pond instead of thinking it is just its reflection. The thought that may be this family is poor is somehow supported with the fact that the daughter and her mother and father do stupid thing worrying something stupid.

Meanwhile in the last story “The Story of Mr. Vinegar”, I find a term ‘poor fellow’ when Mr. Vinegar and Mrs. Vinegar just have to move to another place because their house, which is a vinegar bottle, was broken. They have to move to thick forest and have to climb the tree. The frequent statement of Mr. Vinegar “I should be the happiest man alive.” is stated when he has not felt satisfied yet with he has had with him since he found forty guineas left by a band of thieves from the start. His stupidity and greedy allow him to have more and more things worn or brought by people he just met in the street although the things that he bargains are unfair compared to the value he gives to those people. This frequency perhaps keeps him doing what he believes or hopes that he could be the happiest man alive.

The story is different from the two former above. If those two implicitly makes us think that being stupid does not matter and apparently gives a good ending, in this story being stupid is just a matter of stupid. Moreover, I also find the didactic role of this story which is when Mr. Vinegar is being told by a parrot on the tree that he just has done some mistakes when he exchanged his belonging to something that is less-valuable than what he has had before.

In conclusion from these three stories of Joseph Jacobs, I find that the characterization of poor fellow and stupid character may influence how the characters are being described in doing actions. By knowing how this character is being described in doing actions, I know the possibility of why this story has the frequent statements and events. These frequent statements and events lead to the writer’s un-examined assumptions in making these stories, which is Peter Hollindale’s second level ideology. Although it is ‘impossible to confine ideology to a writer’s conscious intentions or articulated messages’, this is just a merely matter of accepting that ‘writers for children cannot hide what their values are.’ supported with the fact that adults still have to demonstrate the value or the message of the story with some training in critical skills. By these kinds of frequency that I mentioned before within the three stories, ‘the texture of language and story will reveal them and communicate them.’

Check My Yahoo Mail, Found This

You always know the brain-heart storm that we have been through together, we fight and make it up for over and again. It takes blood, sweat and tears out of us, brings our ego up to the top, and no one ever wants to be blamed for it. I love this storm, the wind and the wave that all the time try to make us broken, thoroughly makes our ship stronger than before. We are grateful for it to never end the lovely dovey we have made from the start. We dance upon this ship, happily hold the pole for the proof of promises of our commitment to always stay together crossing the sea. I’m happy to be the deck you have chosen in your ups and downs, captain. I’m happy to be with you in the hot and cold water. 

I hope this happiness won’t make us forget to be more mature because there is another storm ahead. It never fails to bond us for obvious. The second in two years, thank you for everything you have done for me, to protect me and warn me in this dangerous sea. Happy 25th birthday, captain. When you want to tell everything, you know where is to go.  I love you to the end of the sea and back.

October 5th 2014.

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I gave it to my friend for her boyfriend's birthday, few days later I got them broken up for reasons I've never known.

What's Tiny Pieces of My Fourth Semester Been Up To

Whoa. It's been a long time not to write here yet a very big question will appear whether I have even a reader or not. I've luckily survived from my third semester, and now am crawling and guessing what's next on my fourth one.

This semester as still I see blur but fun. I still have books to analyze, journals and essays to read, poems to make for friends who fall in love, songs, and......movies. This is the coolest thing ever I did and will do over all my college experiences: I will do watch movies, mostly the not-so-popular-and-rated-by-everyone-but-clearly-genius-and-fucking-good. There's nothing special with movies but when other majors have no time watching movies and busy with numbers, pictures, and codes, we are here having movie screening in class, discussing, and arguing.

Movie as well as I've known, is entertaining. But here, I am forced to have a closed look to its plot, characters, narrative, setting, dialogue, and so on, in which I could get something from it, to learn, to reflect, to be more sensitive. I am forced to do that; analyzing, analyzing, and analyzing again.

I also found myself falling in love with the classic movie ones; the old ones. They do not have to have a good graphic, beautiful setting, stunning actor or actress, they just have elegant and clever dialogues I love it. I've started three old movies for this semester- The Breakfast Club, 12 Angry Men, and Stranger Than Fiction- am very impressed of my lecturer's taste, good to know we still have few movies until the rest of this semester.

Ok. You've heard my creative writing class. It must be fun and should be fun because I have to be creative and if there's any force and mounts of materials to read, subjectively there'll be no creativity. You've heard 'the only fun' I'll get for this semester and the one which I happily share.

When I wrote this post, suddenly there was something knocked at my door yelling "Hey this is me, assignment 1", it came in my room asking me to make a fictional character and I gave it a cup of relaxing tea telling it to wait until I finished my post.

It was very close to my ear and said, "May the force be with you."