Bangku Mahoni

“U look my previous star. I wish i had that star”
I believe it . N I believe im not.
“The wind had told me”
The wind told the story to the sea and the rain conveyed it to the grass and the grass grasped all the dew that kizz u at early morning. U were trembling.
“No, no.. i’m juzt too scarry”
No, no…my dear..U have a little eyes so that everybody wont hurt u. It’s an anathema.
“U are always funny”
Im not joking. It’s irony.
I wish i had that star.
“N u seem often smiling”
I like smiling for no reason. If u face urself in front of mirror and what will u get? Get smile instead of unbear cry.
“Life is allowing urself make mistakes. Cry will know which ones to keep”
I smile while cry. Crying smile.
“I hate to love U”

“One never goes so far as when one doesn’t know where one is going”
(von Goethe)

Finally, i’m going home. Since it’s not long enough from my last visit, i can’t hold it anymore. It’z okay. Jakarta can’t hold my belonging. It’s not more than a city with lot of money. Great temptation. That’z all. And Jogja is wrapped with My Home Sweet Home purple gift paper theme. And there is where my fatigue will float. Then it sinks. Then it dissapear.

Time is growing slowly in that town. Time is relative, i feel. No matter what are u gonna think, people seem have enough patience for throwing all bad thinking. All bad dream. It has no use for sure. And life is too short to think about it. We’re often driving it to the wrong way. And we don’t bring the map. And if u get to dark strange city, then u know it. It’s too late. People and friends there will remain to help ur dayz well.

Do u believe in immortality? No, and one life is enough for me

(Albert Einstein)

Oh, again. I’m feeling that blue. My blue city. Twilight of peacefully street. When Nite is like a long flowing robe. Star begin prays for hope. The warm from the north mountain. The wind from the south. Lelaa..lela….Everybody sing a long to the ode of Mataram empire. The past bloody glory. It was our man that sing the “Lela Ledhung” Javanese song to cheer our children. To bear our fear with nice deadly defence. Smile is the only clue. Feel the Nite, yeah, do u feel it blue?

On and on, yup… it is the flavour of the air. The flavour of the dancing sunlight over u. What a nice scent of a land that having kissing the first rain. The smell of beautifull rice tree with dew. The smell of burned clays so true. Somebody has to say : Why we have to purchase therapy aroma while it is given freely here? Expect what u’re expecting. It’s alrite. C’mon, lets dancing with the air.

Sehabis baca blognya Riwi (http://ndhasatos.wordpress.com/) jadi ingat jogja jaman dahulu. Kala simbah masih langganan Jaka Lodhang. Lalu cucu2nya diomel2in karena males mandi. Dan kretek yang bau menyan menguar ke mana2. Bahkan bertahan lama setelah yang menghisapnya entah ke mana. Sebuah kenangan yang sebenarnya memprihatinkan.
Sejenak kita menatap generasi muda saat ini, apakah masih ada yang menggunakan bahasa Jawa dengan baik dan benar. Kayaknya minim ya. Kalo ada itupun yang level kasar alias ngoko. Tahu kromonya “nesu” buat yang lebih tua? Entahlah..
Barangkali sistem pendidikan yang ada kurang ‘gigih’ menanamkan pentingnya berbahasa Jawa (di sekolah Jawa Tengah dan sekitarnya). Juga keluarga yang setengah2 mendidik anak untuk ngomong kromo alus sama orang yang lebih tua. Boro2 ngomong Jawa, orang tua dari Jawa aja banyak yang ngomong pake bahasa Indonesia dengan anaknya. Coba saya bayangkan… punya anak di Jakarta, sekolah di Al-Azhar atau di Labschool, meskipun istri dari Jawa juga, apa mungkin berkomunikasi pake bahasa jawa di rumah.Mungkin saja.

Ah, mosok bahasa Jawa bisa punah. Barangkali ini pikiran yang nggak2 aja. Semoga memang hanya pikiran saja.

“Man can altering his life by altering his mind”
William James

Sekali lagi ini senja yang murung. Setelah berhari – hari mendung menggantung di langit kota ini. Dan aku terkatung2 dari rencana yang melulu tertunda. Hujan mengubah rencana kita.

Maul seneng skali karena hujan ini emang sesuatu yang telah lama dirindukannya. Barangkali emang orang2 di sini sudah butuh permainan baru. Hal yang baru. Rencana baru. Tapi jadinya aku di sini menunda beli makan. Mengelola perut bukan hal yang gampang. Tak apa2. Masih mending dapat atap buat menapis hujan. Hujan menyadarkan kita.

Meski ini bukan bulan juni (sebuah puisi dari Sapardi-bm) tapi hujan emang slalu tabah. Ia juga bijak. Bahkan ia terlampau arif. Selalu saja ada yang menggerutu karenanya. Tapi bukan para petani. Bukan para warga di tegal ato gunungkidul. Bukan orang2 yang sedang kasmaran atau menulis puisi. Selalu ada yang merasa akan datang hal2 yg menyenangkan setelah ini. Semoga.

Anyway, selamat datang musim penghujan.

It is a hard day. I know from ur pace look. And the sky is grey. I wish u could share load.