A Way to Stay

I keep questioning what can keep me on writing, to have a pattern as a drill and be worriless of how it will turn out. As the master of procrastinating, it’s always easy for me to craft million reasons or things I will assume more important. Yes they’re sometimes indeed more important, yet the commitment is also one thing on my top priority. This. A commitment to write in more regular basis.

As I currently spend less time on reading, the internal source of motivation, who was always coming out of nowhere whispering urges to convey thought, has also been slowly disappeared.

And I miss it, badly. I need something which can bring me there again and again. At least for once in a week, sitting, giving time for this cheating soul to look back and reflect, for how long will roll on this play.

Now let me try this.

Weekend is something the Jak always longs for. After 5 very long days, the rest 2 is something we consider as treasure. And what makes the treasure becomes more valuable is a plan on how to spend it. Or, in other words, how we’d like to be paid after the 5 working like a dog days. At least, this is very true for me. I oblige a very rewarding 2 days off every week and that’s one thing which could save me through the 5.

So, here I am. The idea is to write those rewards. They might be very much unsophisticated as staying home and sleep all day, or, like the one I will have next week 😉

Some hints:

  1. A sharing tent
  2. The closest on Sangihe squad
  3. Forrest and hill

Until next weekend!!



The Split

A short visit to this city has torn me again, leaving even clearer mark to differentiate the two.

I am the prisoner by the day, the dreamer by the night!

As the bell ring, we all gather heading the same direction, with the footsteps rhyming the sound of surrender, in the spirit for achieving conformity.

As the second bell ring, we all gather again, then spread like the air filling the space, to every corner where each belongs.

From that corner, I take off all my clothes, put off the mask, naked in front of the mirror which reflecting the truth, I collect again the identity.

This is the game I am in. And as on every game, each day brings a new level. The clothes are getting tight it is harder to take off. The mask and the face are getting similar I barely could differ.

Am I going to be forever having two faces? Or better to let them blend?


Satu pesan pendek baru saja masuk.

“Males balik ke Jakarta”

Seorang teman yang sedang menikmati jatah waktu libur tahunannya berteriak dari kampung halamannya.

“Males balik ke Jakarta”


Ada apa sebenarnya dengan Jakarta?

Kota ini ironis, karena penuh dengan jiwa-jiwa jenuh, yang tak henti-hentinya berkeluh namun dengan bodohnya terus kembali menjejali

Kota ini sakit, yang denyutnya dipompa oleh pikiran-pikiran menyipit, yang setiap harinya berebut keluar masuk kereta sempit demi duit yang cuma sedikit

Kota ini ajaib, yang bak tabib meracik sendiri ramuan untuk menghibur jiwa yang jenuh dan menyembuhkan yang sudah terlanjur sakit: bangunan berlantai-lantai menjaja rupa –rupa kebahagiaan semu.


Tiga golongan yang saya temui di bangunan kotak-kotak yang disebut kantor:

1. Mereka sejak awal mula menyadari disinilah cinta mereka berada, sehingga mampu bekerja dengan sepenuh hati dan dedikasi tinggi

2. Mereka yang belakangan menemukan bahwa disinilah hati mereka berlabuh, sehingga mampu menyusul dan bahu-membahu bekerja dengan ritme golongan pertama

3. Mereka yang tengah berjuang menjadi golongan kedua. Celakalah sebagian golongan ini, yang gagal dan tak berdaya, terjebak dan terjangkit epidemi , menjadi zombi-zombi baru penghuni kota mati ini

Celakalah saya!


*Maret 2014

In the midst of crowd

Of people walking fast, talking fast, eating fast, writing fast, thinking fast, deciding fast

This soul is dying to grasp the time

Holding it dear so it won’t goes fast


Laughed by the betrayed freedom

Anchored to a void

This soul is freezed

Searching for a warmth of smiles

But all felt cold


Further I run,

I hear louder scream

I fight stronger pull

Of dream I thought so dull


Yet something over there

Uncertain, unimagined

Yelling to hold on

As the timing will never miss

This is all designed, by the Most Knowledgable, the Most Merciful

Life has let you to pick
Among the many options
You  may see it sometimes plays you a trick
Confront you with questions
Ask not to have them answered in quick
As in dwelling in the questions
You’ll always be bond, with the voice from beyond

The Attached World

When I see a tree

I see me reading

I feel like climbing

I recall photosynthesis

I remember tree kiss

I imagine a giant dancer

I face fairy’s mother


When I sip my coffee

I remember nights writing

I long for the casual fling

I see book I drop staint on

I feel the weight I carry on


When I hear Beatles’

I feel like running

I recall time I first learned English

I remember my shaky English

I imagine Ringo’s big nose

I face a door closed


Could a tree be merely a tree? Could a cup of coffee taste only on our taste sensory? Could a band song show not their story?


We’re aging, collecting memory, accumulating experience, shaping the lens through which we view our entire time span, crafting perception.


We pass the road, hear a song, read phrases.  carrying weight of story!

We watch movie, play a game, write letters. How deadful it would be, drown deep in memory!


I keep walking,  rewrite, replay; to have them all redefined, new lens shaped, the old gradually dissolved throughout the  passing time.

Kurang Lebih Cukup

Apa yang saya khawatirkan dari mendapatkan lebih adalah ketidaksiapan


Saya tidak siap ketika harus  mendapatkan kurang

Karena roda hidup yang terus berputar


Saya tidak siap ketika harus merasakan kurang

Karena perubahan standar


Padahal kurang sekarang adalah cukup dahulu

Lalu, apakah cukup sekarang akan menjadi kurang kemudian?


Yang saya khawatirkan dari mendapatkan lebih adalah ketidaksyukuran


Ah Tuhan,

Mampukan hamba menggenggam selamanya kesyukuran

Agar cukup menjadi selamanya cukup

By God’s Design

People left a footprint, on each path they walk

People made a paint, on each heart they visit


By God’s design we met

Path crossing each other, to lead and to follow

By God’s design we leave

Creating one step and another, to embrace tomorrow


I ain’t afraid of meeting and leaving

As your footprint will be always remained,

mark my path with guidance

As your color will be always lingered,

warm my heart with assurance

That every meet and leave, is indeed, by God’s design

Welcoming Gray!

hallmark your path

I wonder myself. Why am I this happy? Degree of happiness I didn’t expect before, from having a refrigerator. I had been planning to buy it since couple of months ago and finally it arrived yesterday.

People set points in their life; celebrate something every decade, once in a year, or once in a month. The most I see is birthday, New Year celebration comes the second, then Independence Day, wedding anniversary, office anniversary, couple anniversary, first meeting anniversary, we even invent death anniversary. Crazy!

What is it actually in celebration? Why we divide our time into days, weeks, months or years? Why we need to know the number of our years? Is it so we are able to tell when to start school, to know when is the proper time to get married and start a family? Or even to tell when someone should be dead? “Oh she’s 6, her mother will soon enroll her to school. Oh, you’re 30, stop playing with your life and settle down! Oh he’s 100, I wonder how could he be that healthy and still manage to live!” As if we have to reach a certain point on particular specified length of time. Crazy!

I have decided, to stand against the idea of celebrating birthday. I don’t see a point of counting the number we’re alive, length of time we’ve been through and classify it into years. Rather, I prefer to mark my time with momentum, stages of life I’ve been through, a juncture where I experience a growth. And it all has nothing to do with numbers of year.

As a part of human being who needs symbol to remember any accomplishment he has made, I am too crafting my symbols. I started wearing this hijab, to mark a point where I left my past and had a new beginning. I spent a full year away from city buzz, to hold back and see where actually my heart is belong. I climbed Semeru as a reminder to let things go and put a full trust on God’s plan. And yesterday, I bought a refrigerator. It’s a symbol of a promise I made, to not afraid to enjoy thing to the fullest, even when I know it will someday meet its end.

I wonder myself, that it turned out to be a refrigerator. Unlike other electronics (smart phone, notebook, or camera), it is not something you can bring along when you leave. Unlike other home appliances (a wardrobe, a set of mat and pillow, or a broom), it is not that cheap you can just leave it when you leave. It’s a refrigerator. It costed me some fortune yet I couldn’t always have it (at least after 7 months).

What does it imply?

I don’t usually spending on something temporary. I buy clothes not only because they’re nice, but because I know I can match them with many of my pants or veils, and the quality ensure me it will last for great length of time. I befriend someone not merely because they’re fun to be with, but because I know he/ she is always a fun no matter how far we’re apart.

A friend named it Gray. Now I call my refrigerator Gray. Gray is a symbol to mark a time where I learn that it is totally ok to spend on something temporary, as indeed everything is a temporary. It is not a matter of how long you can have it, but how well you spend time with it. I will have at least 7 months to play with Gray, and I can imagine the joy it will bring. The pleasure it offers to friends who are visiting, the surprises it gives whenever I open it: tasty ice cream, fresh fruit, healthy vegetables, cold milk, chocolate, and cheese. I will let others to enjoy Gray too, and then we will have a happiness shared.

How can I ask for more?


As I always enjoy the beat of rock n roll music, I’ve come to realize that life should be lived in rock and roll style. I’m not referring to rock and roll culture like the clothing, the hair or the moves. It is related to how things should be always move, rolling.

You rock the presence, fully living the time given, shake the stiffness and bring the spirit. And then you roll, move again, embrace a new challenge and write a new page of story. You rock then you roll, by then you will live. Rock and Roll!!