Thoughts from AUS: How Far Behind Indonesia Really Is?

UGM students for AUS

As I have been telling you in the previous post, Asian Undergraduate Summit brought up the theme of Disruptive Change. Disruptive change is basically new technologies and innovations that disrupt existing market. It was originally a business term, but today it can be applied more generally. Notable yet overused examples are the online transportation platform such as Uber and Grab (and Gojek in Indonesia), and other sharing-economy mechanism such as Airbnb. But actually, disruptive change includes a lot of pretty mindblowing technologies such as Internet of Things (how various objects can be automated interconnectedly using internet-like mechanism), Big Data (a bunch of data that can be used to analyze patterns and everything), automatization, Artificial Intelligence, and etcetera.

Being an Indonesian student from a non-engineering field, many of these things were alien to me. If even an undergraduate student like me is finding these things as a novelty, what about million other Indonesians? This is the thing I thought long and hard about.  When we talked about disruptive change during AUS, we were mostly talking about Singapore context. That is why it is relevant to talk about how robots are threatening human jobs, or how sharing economy has the potential of benefiting the whole society, or how the health industry can be more productive using the automatization of technical jobs. They are relevant, because Singapore as a first-world, tech savvy state, has the technology, resources, and the knowledge. They are advanced enough to began talking about the things that Indonesians are probably still dreaming about. Meanwhile, Indonesia, regardless of how rich it actually is, still grapples with issues that are probably considered neanderthal in Singapore. How are we supposed to integrate robots with humans and apply drones to military purposes when we still have a very basic problem of poverty and corruption? Of multiculturalism and religious tolerance? Of equality in area development?

So. How far behind are we really are in the matters of technological development? Here is a little illustration. Singapore is the country with the fastest 4G connection. It is currently developing a 5G. Meanwhile, in Indonesia it is very hard to find a stable 4G connection, even in big cities.

Yes, many disruptive change will benefit the society in the way it will open up opportunity and increase productivity, for example Sharing Economy platform. But during the AUS keynote speeches session, I kept wondering about how can these technologies be applied in Indonesian setting? In Indonesian rural areas where technological knowledge is lower? How do we teach about these? How can Indonesian societies as a whole benefit from these technologies? – Questions which yet I had to answer.

Writing this, I am deeply aware that there are a lot of complexities that hinder Indonesia from reaching its full potential, like the fact that Indonesia is huge, also having a huge population that we have to feed. Therefore it is way harder to allocate resources. It is harsh to compare Indonesia and Singapore, I know, but the reason I write this is merely to highlight that, yes, Indonesia is indeed a painfully developing country. So then I find it funny how many Indonesians still fight over themselves with issues like ‘Indonesia dikuasai antek asing!!1!’ and ‘Indonesia belongs to Pribumi!!!’ or, ‘Non-moslem cannot be a leader!!!’ when they can use their time and energy to actually be productive, or at least, learn about the bullshits they are spewing.

My other takeaway from keynote speeches about disruptive change is about how to see things from a non-sociopolitical perspective. Of course, being an International Relations student, I am trained to see the political implications of things, of how a certain policy will affect layers of society. I’ve realized that speakers in AUS mostly if not all, come from a business/engineeering background. Thus, they talked about the market, the opportunities it bring, the profit it can reap. They didn’t often talk about Government’s role, or the impacts it can bring to the ‘fragile’ groups of society. I remember myself raising an eyebrow and thinking to myself that yes, technocratic way of thinking is a real thing. It can be really destructive, I guess, maybe not in Singapore where practically everyone live above poverty line. So I think we do still need politicians and people from social studies background in order to make sure that future developments are people-sensitive and people-centered, regardless of how much Indonesians are sick of their politicians.

You see, we have so much to do.

All the more reasons to stop bullshits like ayo nikah muda! 

Fait Accompli

Fait Accompli

(Heidira Hadayani, 2015)

Hujan turun rintik-rintik sore ini. Langit gelap dan awan sudah berkumpul dengan sebuah konspirasi untuk mengguyur kota lebih deras lagi. Dengan tas tersampir di pundak dan seikat bunga aster putih di salah satu tangan, aku berjalan cepat-cepat, pijakan sepatuku di atas jalanan berair menciptakan bunyi percikan yang teratur.  

Hujan selalu membawaku memoriku kembali ke hari itu, hari saat ia pergi. Berbulan-bulan sudah berlalu, namun bagiku, ia tidak pernah benar-benar pergi. Aku melihatnya dimana-mana. Tidak hanya dalam kenangan, tetapi juga dalam tidurku; dalam mimpi yang terdistorsi oleh pertanyaan-pertanyaan tak terjawab dan rasa bersalah yang entah darimana asalnya. 

Namanya Lena. Aku masih mengingat dengan jelas segala tentang dirinya, bahkan hal kecil sekalipun. Caranya berjalan. Makanan favoritnya. Seulas senyum puas di wajahnya ketika mendapatkan nilai ulangan lebih baik daripadaku. Bagaimana dia mengikat rambutnya. Tidak terlalu mengherankan, karena aku mengenalnya semenjak kami baru belajar berjalan, kemudian berteman dan tidak terpisahkan. Mungkin ini terdengar klise, tapi kami melengkapi satu sama lain. Dia adalah api semangat untuk ketenanganku. Dia adalah suara lantang untuk diamku. Dia adalah optimisme untuk realismeku. Aku mengenal baik seluk-beluk kepribadiannya, dan vice versa. Setidaknya, aku mengenalnya sampai saat itu tiba. 

Aku ingat, hari itu Lena datang ke sekolah. Langkahnya lesu dan wajahnya masam. Seperti biasa, aku mendatanginya untuk mengobrolkan apa yang bisa diobrolkan. Aku tidak menemukan antusiasme sahabatku yang biasanya. Dia duduk di depanku, namun dia tidak benar-benar ada di sana. Mengerti maksudku? Tatapannya padaku menunjukkan semacam kerapuhan disana, seolah ada sesuatu yang menyiksanya dari dalam, namun ia tidak mengatakan apa-apa.

Aku percaya bahwa manusia, layaknya kehidupan, selalu berubah dan berkembang dengan proses tanpa sadar. Namun Lena adalah suatu, tidak, seorang fenomena pertama yang benar-benar membuktikan padaku tentang perubahan itu. Karena sejak hari itu, Lena yang kulihat sehari-hari bukanlah orang yang sama.

Setiap kali aku mencoba membuka pembicaraan bersamanya, ia merespon dengan dingin. Setiap kali aku bertanya apa yang terjadi, ia mengalihkan. Semakin kudesak, semakin jauh pula ia berlari. Hari demi hari ia semakin menutup diri. Dariku, dan dari kehidupan. Hingga kemudian hampir hilang sepenuhnya.

Dan sejak hari itu, aku tidak pernah berhenti bertanya mengapa.

*

Tidak hanya Lena, aku dan orang-orang yang mengenalnya juga berubah. Anggap saja ini adalah efek domino. Karena ia berubah, aku pun berubah, menyesuaikan diri dengan hidupku yang baru, sebuah kehidupan dimana Lena bukanlah sahabatku. Sebuah kehidupan dimana Lena tidak lebih dari orang asing yang kebetulan berada satu ruangan denganku.

Bukan hal yang mudah, karena sebelum keanehan ini tercipta, dia ada dalam hampir seluruh aspek hidupku. Bersekolah, bermain, mengerjakan tugas, berenang, sebut saja, maka kau akan melihat kami melakukannya bersama. Beralih menuju melakukan semua itu sendirian terasa aneh. Seakan aku ada di semesta lain dan bukannya menjalani kehidupanku yang biasanya.

*

Tapi, hal maha aneh dari seluruh rangkaian keanehan ini adalah saat dia benar-benar pergi. Pergi, dalam artian yang paling dasar. Pergi. Hilang dari dunia ini. Terhapuskan eksistensinya. Mati.

Pagi itu, hari Minggu sebelas bulan yang lalu, telepon genggamku berdering dan sekaligus menghancurkan rencana tidur-sampai-siangku. Sebelum aku sempat mengucapkan halo, orang di ujung sambungan terlebih dahulu berucap, sesenggukan.

“Lena, Ra, Lena.. Sudah nggak ada.”

Detik itu, aku yakin, jantungku berhenti berdetak. Seharusnya aku bertanya dengan panik, ‘apa maksudnya sudah nggak ada? Kamu bercanda kan? ‘ Tapi itu tidak perlu. Nada suara si penelpon, yang tidak sempat kutanyakan identitasnya, sudah mengungkap dengan jelas apa maksud kalimat itu. 

Aku menarik nafas, bergetar.

“Bagaimana... Bagaimana dia..?” Meninggal. Itu kata yang tidak sanggup kuucapkan.

“Maaf, Ra. Dia bunuh diri.”

Aku tidak merespon untuk sekian lama. Telepon genggamku sudah tidak ada dalam genggaman, mungkin tergelincir jatuh. Aku tidak peduli. Aku tidak peduli dengan penelpon di ujung sambungan. Aku terduduk di kasur, menghadap jendela yang berembun, menampilkan buram rintik hujan Desember pagi di luar sana.

Perasaan itu bukanlah kesedihan. Yang pertama kali terasa adalah keasingan. Aku masih terdiam, menatap jendela, sementara benakku berusaha menyerap informasi ini. Melayang. Seperti itu rasanya ketika kau dihantam oleh sebuah berita seperti itu. Kemudian aku merasakan lelehan air mataku sendiri, menuruni pipi, menetes ke bawah dan membasahi bantal. Kemudian tertelan ruang hampa. Hampa, tepat seperti itu. Saat aku pada akhirnya menangis, perasaan yang ada adalah kehampaan yang asing.

Sungguh aneh bagaimana kematian akan menghapus jati diri seseorang, hingga lambat laun kita hanya mengingat momen acak yang pernah dilalui bersama seseorang itu. Dan tanpa terasa, kemudian kau harus bersusah payah mengingat rupa wajahnya. Dan waktu, akan dengan tidak tahu malu merampas kenangan itu dari orang-orang yang ditinggalkan, menyisakan kekosongan seperti sebuah bekas luka yang mengganggu.

Aku masih tidak pernah berhenti bertanya mengapa.

*

Fase setelah rasa hampa dan sebelum menerima keadaan ialah menyalahkan diri.

Aku tidak habis pikir, bagaimana mungkin aku bisa melewatkan tanda-tandanya. Perubahan sikapnya, penutupan dirinya, pengasingannya, seharusnya aku menyadarinya. Ya Tuhan. Seharusnya aku bertanya dan membantunya. Seharusnya aku mengejarnya, menariknya dari lubang hitam dan menyelamatkannya. Namun semua itu das sollen, seharusnya, bukan das sein, senyatanya. Nyatanya, aku gagal. Aku terlalu egois sehingga melupakan keadaan Lena.

Terkadang aku mendapatkan mimpi buruk. Mimpi yang sama, berulang-ulang diputar selama tidurku, membentuk sebuah simfoni traumatis yang menghantui. Dalam mimpi itu kulihat diriku berhadapan dengan Lena beserta sorot matanya yang menunjukkan kerapuhan. Lalu tubuhnya retak, dimulai dari celah matanya dan menyebar ke seluruh tubuhnya, pecah menjadi partikel-partikel kecil seperti istana pasir yang diterjang ombak. Hingga akhirnya ia hilang tidak berbekas. Atau terkadang mimpi itu memperlihatkan Lena, menjatuhkan diri dari tepi jurang sementara aku berdiri di belakangnya, tidak melakukan apapun kecuali membiarkannya mati.

Aku menyiksa diriku sendiri dengan memikirkan berbagai skenario tentang ‘seandainya’.

*

Aku sedang duduk di bangku kayu taman sekolah, dengan konsentrasi penuh menyelesaikan PR-ku, ketika Lena datang dan menempati bangku di seberangku.

“Ah, kamu selalu belajar.” Katanya.

Aku membalas cengirannya. “Hanya mengerjakan PR,” kilahku, yang tidak suka dicap sebagai kutu-buku.

Setelah jeda keheningan beberapa saat, Lena membuka percakapan dengan topik yang entah terinspirasi dari mana.

“Kata Buddha, hidup itu penderitaan.”

“Iya?” tanyaku, heran dengan kalimatnya.

“Entahlah. Sedari tadi aku berfikir, buat apa kita hidup? Terkekang dengan masalah-masalah dan batasan-batasan.”

“Memangnya masalahmu seberat apa sampai berfikir sebegitunya?”

Dia menghela nafas dan tersenyum lelah. “Ada hal yang tidak pernah kuceritakan kepadamu.” Ia melirik gerbang sekolah. “Aku pulang dulu ya!” katanya, sebelum aku sempat bertanya lebih lanjut. 

*

Hujan semakin deras dan langit semakin gelap. Aku belum juga sampai di tempat tujuanku, dan benakku teralihkan oleh berbagai kilas balik.

Aku belum bisa menemukan alasan dibalik perilaku dan kematiannya yang disengaja, namun sepertinya aku mulai bisa memahami perasaannya. Perasaan lelah akan kehidupan, sebuah konflik dalam dirinya yang dipicu kejadian-kejadian yang tidak ia ceritakan kepadaku.

Lena yang kukenal adalah orang yang menghargai kebebasan diatas segala-galanya. Mungkin ia menganggap kematian sebagai jalan keluar. Sebuah pelarian dan pelepasan. Kemenangan yang hakiki atas segala permasalahan. Sebuah akhir yang megah untuknya sendiri.

Ia pernah bercanda bahwa suatu saat ia akan menemukan cara dimana ia akan mengungguliku sebagai balasan karena aku selalu mengalahkannya di rangking sekolah. Dan mungkin, entahlah, kematiannya adalah sebuah cara itu. Keunggulan yang tidak akan kutandingi, bukti bahwa aku tidak bisa lagi mengalahkannya. Pencapaian yang telah terjadi dan tak terbantahkan.

Aku menghela nafas. Sungguh aneh, aku menemukan pencerahan atas pertanyaan yang menerorku selama ini, di tengah jalan di bawah hujan. Aku hanya berharap dia tidak membenciku, karena semestinya, kami adalah sahabat. Dan mungkin...

Ia benar.

Mungkin ia benar.

*

Aku meneruskan berjalan, di atas trotoar basah dan di bawah langit gelap. Bunga aster putih untuk makam Lena masih ada di tanganku.

Aku melangkahkan kaki ke jalan raya sembari menengadahkan tangan ke langit untuk memeriksa apakah hujan masih turun. Sebuah bisikan memanggil namaku. Aku menoleh, mencari sumber suara. Secepat suara itu muncul, secepat itu pula suara itu hilang. Aku mendengar suara lain. Lebih nyaring, tapi anehnya terasa jauh.

Sayup-sayup otakku dapat mendeteksi bunyi itu.

Sesaat sebelum semuanya gelap, aku mendengar bisikan halus itu lagi.

“Halo, teman. Kita bertemu lagi, ternyata.”

Dan aku melihat Lena tersenyum dari tempat dimana aku menuju.

*

written two years ago.

originally published on majalah sekolah SMAN 5 (Joer-V)

Rain: (Not) A Romanticization

 

You know how much I hate the rain, but it wasn’t always the case. You see, we are not born with a hate for something, with a love for something. I have always been captivated with the way strange, seemingly unrelated experiences are keychains that will forever intermingle in our lives. This is me, and the rain.

I remembered sitting shotgun through the streets of Strathpine neighborhood, the rain is heavy pelts against the windowglass. We were on our way to a bookstore, and once we arrived, we tumbled out of the car like pearls, laughing like maniacs. I don’t recall the name of the store, but I did remember the warmth of the shopkeeper lady’s smile, commenting on our state of drenched. Three surrogate sisters living shortlived life on a new continent, limited days of first-world privilege. I was so happy back then, hoping I could live this life that was never mine.

Dragging the reel of time way back, rain meant jumping puddles with my sister and mindlessly listening to my mother’s scolds with a hint of exasperated joy in her voice. Rain meant cuddled up in my blanket, a book in hand—safe and warm in my private world. Rain meant sitting together in front of the TV, not really caring what was on because we were all together, anyway.

Rain meant mundane but wholesomely special conversation on a borrowed balcony and on a borrowed time, with a first love I held dear. Touching our socks-covered feet together, as lightning and thunders splitted the sky. Rain meant an excuse not to never ever ever leave, wishing that we could stay like that forever and ever and ever. Rain was, as cliche as it sounds, also a metaphor of a clean slate, a new beginning as wafting petrichor signaled the start. Of days start anew.

It was then and this is now.

I can’t shake up this feeling of discomfort when those godforsaken droplets of water break out of the clouds. The dread of being trapped with the rain around me is a fuel for me to retreat. I don’t know what changed, maybe it is the unfamiliarity of my surroundings, my lack of safe space, or merely a change in my mind. Rain is an inconvenience—holding me back, holding me out. Rain is an archenemy to my immune system, always has been weak since day one, what a sickly little girl. Rain makes me agitated, helplessly seeking for a feeling that I cannot decipher, clawing thin air for an answer. Rain brings out what I hate in myself, irrational fear of being lonely without a cure, making me feel too much it's overwhelming and please please make it stop.

I despise the rain, because maybe as time goes by, I began to resent my so-called first love that turned to be an utter dipshit of a one-sided heartbreak. I loathe the rain, because maybe I had realized that the dreams I wanted for myself are not always in tune with the truth. Rain is no longer a metaphor, it is just another reality in this very, very, real life. And I don't think I've made peace with it all.


*

Hurricane Heart

—hurricane heart


for those who do not give up and conform.
darling, you are a force to be reckoned with.

for every time you have been silenced,
for every question left unanswered,
adds fuel to your fire.
because, darling, you are blessed with such sleepless rage.

stink eye and scathing chides saying you will not fit in to this world we live in,
darling, you should be grateful then—
you are not to be fooled nor tamed by the mundane reality.
you are infinite; in your bones is the universe itself.

your voice is the calm before a storm,
a gentle timidity concealing millions of accusations.
burning in your veins are the spirit of the restless youth,
one that dreams, desires, wonders.
one that never, ever, ever settle.

thus, next time somebody tells you to sit tight and be quiet,
show them you're a hurricane.

❤

Privilege and Bigotry

Salah satu kelas favoritku di semester dua berjudul Pengantar Studi Perdamaian atau disingkat PSP. Saking menariknya kelas ini, aku dan teman-teman sering bercanda bahwa PSP bukan kuliah, PSP adalah kotbah. Hari ini di kelas PSP kami membicarakan mengenai privilege; sebuah keuntungan yang didapatkan seseorang secara unintended karena menjadi bagian dari suatu kelompok. Untuk penjelasan singkat yang komprehensif, klik di sini.

‘Check your privilege!’ 

– Dan aku melihat bahwa aku memiliki keuntungan yang tidak aku minta, hanya karena aku bagian dari suku mayoritas dan agama mayoritas, berasal dari keluarga ekonomi menengah yang sanggup memberiku pendidikan tinggi, dengan orientasi seksual yang dianggap normal. Karena hal-hal ini, aku tidak perlu ibadah dengan sembunyi-sembunyi, tidak akan dipandang aneh apabila suatu hari aku berjalan dengan pasangan (iya iya, sekarang masih jomblo parah), tidak akan ditentang dengan alasan ras jika aku memutuskan mencalonkan diri menjadi pemimpin daerah, dan tentu saja: memiliki basis pengetahuan yang membuatku berpikiran terbuka.

Kembali ke kelas PSP, salah seorang peserta kelas—angkatan 2014—menyuarakan opininya. Intinya seperti ini:

“Bicara tentang privilege, kita bisa berada di sini belajar perdamaian adalah sebuah privilege. Mungkin, orang-orang yang sering kita debat di postingan LINE, yang kita anggap bigot, adalah mereka yang tidak punya privilege untuk terekspos kepada hal-hal yang bisa kita pelajari. Mungkin mereka tidak punya privilege untuk sekolah tinggi, membaca artikel, dan sebagainya sehingga menjadi bigot yang berpikiran tertutup.”

Menarik. Jujur, aku belum pernah melihatnya dari sudut pandang itu. Selama ini responku terhadap bigots yang kolot dengan argumennya yang nonsense antara lain: geram, memutar mata, atau malah ingin tertawa saking bodohnya hal yang mereka katakan.  Betapa ignoran diriku. Iya, mungkin mereka dibesarkan di lingkungan yang ultra-konservatif, ultra-religius, dan ultra-milk. NGGA LUCU. Lingkungan membentuk pola pikir, dan nilai-nilai yang biasa ia lihat sehari-hari menjadi sebuah parameter normalitas bagi seseorang. Mungkin aku bisa berpikiran terbuka karena aku memiliki akses terhadap media asing, atau karena aku berada di antara orang-orang yang juga berpikiran terbuka. Beberapa orang di luar sana tidak memiliki kemewahan tersebut.

Tapi di sisi lain, sampai kapan kita bisa menjustifikasi kebencian para bigot dengan asumsi ketiadaan privilege? Faktanya, mereka bisa mengakses internet untuk berkomentar di postingan LINE dan berkoar mengenai supremasi mayoritas, menyalahkan korban pemerkosaan, mengutuk kelompok LGBT untuk terbakar di neraka, mengatakan bahwa perempuan seharusnya diam di rumah dan tidak aneh-aneh. Seharusnya, akses internet tersebut bisa membawa mereka ke sumber informasi yang relevan, sehingga setidaknya argumen bigotry mereka disokong logika yang masuk akal.

Aku tidak meragukan bahwa ada latar belakang tertentu yang menjadikan mereka bigoted dan penuh kebencian. Tapi sayangnya, kita harus mengakui bahwa kadang latar belakang tersebut adalah kemalasan untuk melihat sudut pandang lain, egoisme primordial, dan rasa supremasi dari menjadi anggota kelompok mayoritas atau jenis kelamin yang diuntungkan.

Intinya, tetap sabar menghadapi bigots. They do need to open up their minds.

violent flesh

--violent flesh

i look down at my hands,

and imagine that

these same appendages

so mundane in me,

has been used

by another

to inflict pain

and draw scars

on another

until these same appendages

are drenched in blood

of another;

and then I ask,

we’re all humans,

what differs? 

unexplained symptoms

This is a summary of how my body is betraying my brain. And I.
It all started some time after I met him.
Nothing was amiss, no symptom was apparent, but then out of nowhere, my body started a riot.
The organs of my body are making an alliance with one another, and dearest brain is not invited.
“Let’s  make this hooman confused!” is their war-cry.
My insides melt when I catch a glimpse of him. Melt. This is not one of those trashy romance novels. What the fuck, internal organs?
My stomach is no better. It turns into a factory to create uneasy butterflies, flapping their wings around inside my guts as if they are tripping on narcotics.
And don’t get me started with my heart. Its erratic beat is making me unfocused. It’s making my skin shiver. Nevermind the fact that my insides are boiling.
If veins are highway for the running blood, the ones behind my cheeks must be suffering a traffic jam, because all the blood go there.

Meanwhile, the brain is working hard to explain this situation.
There must be a logical reason behind this batshit craziness.
Something must have happened to me. Something scientific. Not a lame notion like love or infatuation.
Meh, those hopeless romantics.
Maybe a spider had bitten me, causing a neural disturbance which results in those butterflies-like feeling.
Maybe I have an allergic reaction which causes my heart to beat faster.
It surely has nothing to do with his smile.
Or the way he knows a lot about a lot.
Or the way his eyes light up when he talks about a newly-released game.
Nuh-uh. Not happening.

Days pass. And some more days. Then turn into weeks. And some more weeks.
Still no answer.
Apparently the logical brain that I’ve always been proud of is not that reliable.

perpetual gloom

i'm tired with these voices inside my head;

don't leave me alone with only my thought as a company,

it nearly killed me last night.

clairvoyant claire

Her name was Claire and her eyes were crystals.
I noticed her at the front of the lecture hall.
Always at the very first row, ahead of us all
I wondered if she tried to get ahead of life, too

She was pretty, 

With that kind of a fragile build and aristocratic face

I never saw her talk to anyone,
Or even voicing up her answer during classes.
I wondered if she was too much of a snob.
I wondered why I gave it so much thought.

And then I found out she was mute.
The problem with the major percentage of the population, I realized.
Quick to judge, clouded by distrust and disdain

Assuming the worst of things
And seeing what we want to believe.

But not Claire.

She saw the beauty in life, the good in people.
She fed hungry, dirty stray dogs 

Looked after forgotten, lonely people in the streets.
They would then look her in the eye, gratitude reverberating like warmth on a sunny day
Then I thought to myself, 

Funny how the sincerest of things are not conveyed through vocal chords.

I wondered if she was heaven reincarnate.

Or just an angel sent to make me a better being.

I could write sonnets about the clairvoyant Claire.
How she seemed to see through masquerades and façade.
I might won a Pulitzer if I could perfectly capture her presence in strings of sentences.
How she made colors a little more vibrant, confections a little more sweeter. 

And life truly worth living.

She had perfected the arts of a language of her own.
In the way she savored every drop of rain when she twirled under the pour,
In the little gestures she made, each telling a story if only you'd bother to see.
And in the way she laughed inaudibly with crinkles around her eyes

That night we were stargazing.
Featherlight touch of her fingertips traced circles on my wrist.
Then she interlaced our fingers, interlinked our dreams, interlocked our fate.
And in moments like these, I was soaring and infinite.
Definitely infinite.

She was dictionary of expressions.
She was litany of vivacity.
She was technicolor in a monochrome world.
She was poetry when the world was still learning alphabets.

**

H,

November 2015

posted here with several edits

something new

Being a new university student comes with new everything.

There are more obvious things, like new friends, new subjects to learn, new place to live in.

But there are also more subtle things,

and to me this is something to contemplate on.

Back in high school, or practically all the time before university life, my social circle has been quite...predictable. Growing up in a common neighborhood where everyone is the subject of the same norm, things don't really get too diverse, if you know what I mean. We've always agreed on a set of values that we consider as "good," and we justify judging other people with what we see as "right." We tended to marginalize those who are different than us. The same thing happens in my school social circle. I went to a ~favorite~ middle school and high school, where most of the students come from a "nice" upbringing and having a decent economic background. There aren't really kids with stereotypical "bad behavior." Even smoking is already very frowned upon. Those who smoke were perceived as "bad boy." And also, norm and religious values were placed very highly in our student life. Like, if you are not diligent in your prayers then somehow you are a lesser being. And even in the choosing of student council members, capabilities are tied up with that candidate's religiousness, to the point that the candidates were publicly asked about the quality of their praying habits and. (saying this here is probably pretty controversial, so i'd like to apologize if some of you are offended by that notion.)

The only times I ever get exposed to the other side of social diversity was when I meet my elementary school friends. I'm pretty much the only student from my elementary school who made it to be a student in my high school and middle school--which is considered as one of the most favorite. So, when I meet them, I began to see that many teenagers don't live the way I do. For example, one of them has been known to bring their girlfriends home to their room. This was pretty scandalous. Quoting a sentence from a speech from I-forgot-who, "Mainmu kurang jauh, pulangmu kurang malam," which means, I only knew limited kinds of people because my association has always been with those who are similar to me.

Not only about social associations, but also about how we think. Back there, the way we think or our principle ideologies have been quite similar. Those who think too-differently can be viewed as 'radical,' Not to mention that with our view, we tend to justify our actions solely because that action has been a tradition in the system. (cough, masa orientasi siswa, cough). When I experienced orientation processes in university, I began to realize that what I had in my high school is a form of oppressive orientation, no matter how we justified that because we were sure that our method was the best in producing quality new students. 

But being here, in Fisipol, I experience so much diversities. I meet female smokers (which is ultra rare or even inexistent in my social circle back home), people who actually go to clubs and get drunk (which is also ultra rare), LGBT community people, people who don't associate themselves with a certain religious affiliations, and so on and so forth. The good thing is that I apparently don't really care with all those differences. I don't really care with what are their personal preferences:  If they are nice, then well, let's be friends. As simple as that. And thankfully also, the community here is pretty open-minded and accepting. Things that were previously considered taboo can be discussed. Those people who are different or a part of the minority are not discriminated. People don't do a double-take and then frown when they see smokers. I know that not everyone here are that openminded, but anyways I'm 100% sure that people here are way more open minded than what I had back home. 

And that is the point of tolerance. We, as a human being and as a society, tend to fear the things that we don't understand. If we really want to live in harmony with people from diverse background, we have to actually build an understanding about them. So that we don't judge and label people by our own boxes of 'good's and 'bad's. By this we can also see the reality of life around us, that there are people who live under very different circumstances from what we're used to. We have to knock that little bubble separating us from the rest of the world (?), and begin to actually respect people regardless of what race they are, what sexual preference they have, or how they decide to practice their religion (or lack of). 

So yeah, being a university student, especially in my campus, pretty much provides mindblowing findings of new things. Thus, I'm content to say that I'm comfortable being here in Fisipol. 

Home

You have a house and call it a home, but bad things happen inside and the fractured family portrait is the reason you cry yourself to sleep.

Then you spend a lot of time doing anything that delays you to come back to that place you now refuse to call home

.

You have someone and call them your home, but then they break the heart you so earnestly gave them with their bare hands.

And you realize that the person you should trust most is only yourself. So you become a homeless, wandering creature once again

.

I have stopped associating a place and a person with the concept of 'home.'
Home is neither a place nor a person, it's a feeling.

.

Yogyakarta,
22 Agustus 2016
Ketika lagi suntuk baca Dynamics of Diplomacy.

Langit Senja

Keringat mengalir di badannya, dan ranselnya terasa berat. Sepasang sneakers biru tua kotor dengan tali yang tidak terikat menapaki jalan beraspal, tidak berlari namun tidak juga pelan.
Sore itu ia sangat ingin cepat-cepat sampai di rumah. Maka ia mempercepat langkahnya, lalu akhirnya naik ke dalam bemo yang sudah ditunggunya sejak sepuluh menit lalu.

Umumnya, dari situ ia butuh dua kali naik bemo. Satu kali hingga jembatan penyeberangan, menyeberang, dan satu kali menuju arah sebaliknya dimana rumahnya berada. Namun sore itu, entah kenapa ia merasakan keinginan untuk berjalan kaki. Sungguh aneh, namun anak itu memang impulsif. Maka ia turun di tengah perjalanan, menyeberang jalan di zebra-cross bersama seorang pria paruh baya, dan meneruskan perjalanan dengan berjalan kaki.

Hari sudah sore dan adzan maghrib sudah terdengar, namun sinar matahari belum sepenuhnya hilang. Ia berjalan dengan kecepatan yang biasa, sesekali mendongak ke arah langit senja dan mengamati warna jingga gelap yang bergradasi dengan warna langit malam.

Ia berfikir sambil berjalan. Memikirkan apa saja. Hal-hal acak yang mendatangi pikirannya. Tentang hari itu, tentang pertandingan basket, tentang teman-temannya, tentang apa yang harus dimasak besok pagi, dan (sayangnya) tentang perasaan yang bergejolak akhir-akhir ini. Ah, memikirkan perasaan sungguh tidak menyenangkan. Mengatasi masalah hati tidak pernah menjadi urusan yang mudah untuknya. Menurutnya, ia sering tidak sengaja melukai orang lain, dan vice versa. Lalu ia berdecak dan mencela dirinya sendiri karena bersikap seperti tokoh cerita roman yang terlampau melodramatis.

Kemudian ia memasang earphone-nya dan memutar lagu dari handphone yang duduk manis di saku depan celananya. Sialnya, lagu yang terpilih secara acak malah bernada sendu, dan itu tidak membantunya mengalihkan pikiran. Masih sambil berjalan, ia pun terlarut.

Seperti langit senja yang bergradasi, terkadang perasaan juga bergradasi; campur aduk dan tidak terlihat batas-batasnya. Seperti warna langit senja yang terpatri jelas dalam ingatkan namun tidak mudah dilukiskan oleh kata-kata. Indah namun tidak mudah ditiru, ini juga seperti itu.
Tapi pada akhirnya langit senja akan berubah menjadi malam. Ia bertanya-tanya apakah ini nantinya akan berubah juga.

Akhirnya ia sampai di rumah. Menghentikan langkah, memmbuka kunci, melangkah masuk, mencopot earphone, dan berhenti memikirkan apapun.

*
(my first reaction: masyaAllah aku menjijikkan.)

Telur Angsa

Tadi siang, Mama menemukan sebutir telur angsa di halaman rumah yang ditinggalkan induknya. Lalu diambil Mama, dibawa masuk ke dalam rumah supaya tidak kepanasan. Ternyata, sorenya dua ekor angsa kembali ke halaman rumah. Sepertinya mereka mencari telurnya. Akhirnya aku mengembalikan telur tadi ke tempatnya. Tetapi kedua angsa itu tidak melihat telur itu. Mereka berputar-putar dan berkaok nyaring. Tetap saja mereka tidak bisa menemukannya.

Seandainya telur itu tidak dibawa masuk rumah, meskipun berniat membantu, mungkin si angsa tidak akan kehilangan telurnya. sometimes good will doesn't bring resolve.

Tapi seandainya si angsa tidak pernah meninggalkan telurnya, ia tidak akan pernah kehilangan.
don't take things for granted. not every thing stays forever.

no pic hoax

This Is Not A Love Letter (I'll never write one.).

To: If you're reading this, and you probably don't, you know who you are.
Cc: Every person who has the same problem as mine.

Courage has no limit. I have no fear of height, or spiders, or darkness, but I think I just did one of the bravest thing in my entire life. I have no idea whether that was an impulsive act that I'm known of, or something I've been trying to tell you since long time ago, only I don't know how. Although most definitely it was the combination of both, I guess.

You know how people always exaggerate the whole 'confessing' thing. Considering that I have this biggest crush on you for almost four years (I know right), I thought something close to earth-shattering was gonna happen. It didn't. I didn't even feel that rush of adrenaline when you replied.

"Maaf"

Oh, the way you replied. Just one word. It reminds me of Uchiha Sasuke before he left Konoha, he said only a phrase to the post-confessing Sakura before he knocked her to oblivion. That one phrase is: I'm sorry.
Wow, what a revelation.

One of my favorite band said that there's no starting over without finding closure. That's why I told you. I wanted to let it out, once and for all. So I can stop second-guessing and playing all the 'what-if's in my head. Not because I expected something, for I already knew what would your response be.

This part is for every people out there with so-thought 'unrequited love.' There will come a time when you finally realize that you have to stop romanticizing the things or people who hurt you. (Trust me, we all worth more than that). And that f you like someone, do it freely and without expectations. And if you're tired with your feelings being kept in the silence, well, what way is there but to say it? Don't be a stuck up and demanding him/her to be sensitive and understand your 'codes'. Most people are not fortune tellers.

I think the difficult part is not being honest, but to stop hesitating. To get rid of every nagging feeling inside your tiny, insecure heart. But this is not the first time I confessed. The first time was back in sixth (or fifth?) grade. I had this silly childhood crush on one of my bestfriend--his name is Dion if you're wondering--and out of nowhere I asked him whom does he like. He mentioned a name which is not mine, but then I still said that I like him anyway. Wow, I have a knack of bravery. After that we wen't back to being friends. What a simple life. But this is high-school. I'm no longer a ten-year old, and so are you. There's a long way behind us, a complicated knotted thread.

My friends asked me, aren't I scared to be avoided or being left? Damn no. However hard over heels I might be, I know that you're not the center of my universe. You don't pay for my life expenses, you're not my closest friend, and you sure as hell can't save me from Math remedials. So if you wanna walk away, then so be it.
This whole thing would be so much easier if I know how you feel toward me. Or try not to avoid the subject. But it's your privilege to share, not mine. I did mine, I have no right to ask for yours.

"I've become skeptical of the unwritten rule that just because a boy and a girl appear in the same feature, a romance must ensue. Rather, I want to portray a slightly different relationship, one where the two mutually inspire each other to live--If I'm able to, then perhaps I'll be closer to portraying a true expression of love." -Hayao Miyazaki.
Truth be told, I want us to be friends. I can only hope that you won't ignore me or forget my entire existence.Wishing you the best too, because you're an awesome person even if you're a jerk sometimes!

I'm going to end this by quoting Coldplay,

 "I don't care, go on and tear me apart. Cause in a sky full of stars, I think I see you"

As a young man, he'd never considered time
as something other than a current to bear him aloft,
propel him into his future.
But now he understood that time is a rising tide,
implacable, inexorable, unstoppable rising tide,
now at the ankles, now the knees, rising to the thighs,
and to the groin and the torso and to the chin,
ever rising, a dark water of utter mystery,
propelling us forward,
not into the future,
but into infinity,
which is
oblivion.

-From the Fossil Figures by Joyce Carol Oates
 

Flying and Coasters

"Switch on the sky and the stars glow for you
Go see the world cause it's all so brand new! 
Don't close your eyes, 'cause your future's ready for you. 
It's just a matter of time before we learn how to fly.

Life is a trip down the road that leads you.
Look all around at all the mountains you haven't climbed!
It's just a matter of time before we learn how to fly."
(When Can I See You Again - Owl City)

I've always wondered how it would feel like to fly.
Literally flying.
To feel the wind blows on your face, whipping your hair to the side. To smell the plain air. To touch the clouds, which is actually just vapors but whatever, with my fingertips.
It must feel wonderful.

I like a spark of speed, you know.
Like when I'm on a rollercoaster ride.
I can feel my heart beats in rhythm with the velocity. I can almost feel the blood pumping. I feel the euphoria. The happiness, the giddiness, the anticipation, the excitement, and a little fear. I feel infinite. Complete. Alive to the maximum point.
When the coaster goes up, I can see the wide wide sky. It's so blue! So limitless! 
When the coaster goes up, I feel like I'm thrown up to the sky, being catapulted.
That's why I love rollercoasters.
Because I imagine, it almost feels like flying.

:)

Some of my favorite tweets!

 Aku termasuk satu dari sekian banyak remaja yang aktif di twitter. Kadang-kadang aku geli ngeliat banyaknya tweetku selama ini, kayak aku cerewet banget._. Sampe aku sering ngehapus tweet ku sendiri biar gak ngebanyak-banyakin.
Tapi sebenernya di Twitter banyak banget quote bagus, bahkan dari artis-artis sekalipun. So...these are my favorite tweets!

 

this! Aamiin

 

Bener banget. Kadang-kadang I'm ashamed of myself because I spend too much time on twitter:(

Tweet ini menjawab pertanyaan Tia waktu dulu: "buat apa kamera? kan kita punya mata  yang lebih indah" :D

Now it's time for the witty tweets!

Hahaha, ini pas habis rumor kiamat 2012 itu lho, esok harinya Adam ngetweet gini. XD

Kepedean, tweetku dewe nih tapi aku suka:)) Habisnya aku mangkel sama quote "I'M SMILING BUT IT FAKE BECAUSE INSIDE I'M DYING"._.v

The fact is, aku nggak pernah percaya kalo ada yang memuji aku keliatan cantik because deep down I'm kinda insecure.

Caspar! Tweet ini lucu, sok-sok an banget:))

Yep. Semacam pembelaan soalnya gak punya iPad juga sih...

Hell yeah, Vanya! 

Adam....DOESN'T look like Woody! >o<

Miss Ika^^

true story! Mungkin orang nganggep krn Green Day band punk, fans nya bakalan bertingkah emo waktu Billie rehab, padahal yang terjadi malah pas Justin Bieber smoking weed, fansnya pada cut themself (ngiris diri sendiri, tau kan).

billie is so adorable sometimes:))))

mindfuck

Aku nggak ngerti Lady Gaga ngetweet apa...pokoknya kalo dibalik artinya jadi gitu. Billieee:))

Kamu akan sangat bahagia saat tau idolamu ngefans idolamu yang lain.

Dan kamu akan sangat bahagia ketika idolamu mendukung idolamu yang lain. :)

 Ini nih, ucapan ultah terbaik via twitter^^ (btw aku nggak tau kenapa itu tulisannya 8 feb padahal aku ultah 9 feb..) Aamiin semuanya!

 And last...

Thanks a lot Sanifa dan Brigita! I love your blogs too<3

 *

Terimakasih sudah meluangkan waktu untuk membaca postingan ini!
Hugs, Heidi The Frequent Tweet-er