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Despite how people keep telling her that she has an enviably beautiful mind, she’s always clueless when it comes to romanticism. There are just, too many underlying, hidden meanings behind one’s flattery and cordial words. Both gentlemen and lads come to approach her, conveying their admiration and sometimes affection, but none of them have ever managed to outbid yours. She often questions truth and herself, but never comes to a conclusion. Once she tried to draw your attention by putting herself at the edge of a cliff and had to find herself disappointed because you stayed put on your own battle. Thus she decided to go back to her home off the shore, filled with shame and broken wishes. Hunters pass by every now and then, healers drop by to check if they can help her out with some remedies. She refuses them all. She wants only you. The sun has made one full revolution by now, yet her emotions for you remain the same, safe, put and locked under the sea by mother nature. Maybe one day you can learn to swim and take them by yourself. Maybe by then she already gives up on you. Maybe that’s how these kind of stories should end.

Bodoh

Sudah hampir 1 jam lebih Rudi duduk di depan komputer tua itu, tapi halaman di depannya masih kosong total. Setiap lima menit, dia mulai menulis panjang, kadang sampai dua paragraf utuh, tapi akhirnya memutuskan untuk menghapusnya dan mulai dari awal.

Rudi sedang menulis surat.

Bukan, bukan surat cinta. Surat, apa ya, surat perpisahan, mungkin. Untuk Tita yang akan pergi minggu depan.

Kata lagu-lagu canggih yang sering dia dengar di kamar majikan mudanya, if you really want her, you should never let her go. Tapi lagu itu bohong, pikir Rudi. Kalau kau memang sayang seseorang, kau harus tega pada dirimu sendiri, untuk melihatnya bahagia di tempat lain.

Mas Penjaga di pojokan mulai heran. Tidak seperti pelanggan warnet murahannya yang lain, Rudi hanya membuka Microsoft Word dan belum mengetik apa-apa. Jangan-jangan dia tidak mengerti cara menggunakan Google Chrome. Haruskah kuhampiri? Melihat air muka pengunjung baru itu, sang Mas Penjaga mengurungkan niat. Sepertinya dia hanya bingung dengan perasaannya sendiri.

Baiklah. Sixty minutes is more than enough to prove that you don’t have anything to say to her. Let’s just forget about it.

Tapi Rudi bimbang. Masih. Rudi masih harus menyampaikan sesuatu—perasaannya. Fakta bahwa dia bersedia menunggu, satu, dua, atau tiga tahun lagi. Rudi tidak peduli.

Sudah diputuskan. Mungkin aku harus bertemu langsung, baru tahu kata yang tepat untuk menerjemahkan kekalangkabutan hatiku.

Mau tahu apa yang akhirnya Rudi katakan pada Tita?

Tidak ada.

Dengan pengecut, Rudi pulang ke rumah dan bernyanyi di pojokan kamar. Songs are the best remedies, people say.

Bodoh.

To Whom This May Sound Nonsense

I love the way you nod your head attentively when I talk.
I love the way you smile, whether or not you fake it, when I made a failed joke.
I love the way you call me a lady.
I love the way you sit next to me and do the gesture I do, and then the world feels extremely safe.
I love the way you take back your camera while saying that the picture is ‘nasty’ or ‘tasty’, I couldn’t even pay enough attention because you were so charming.
I love the way you asked about how I’m gonna get home.
I love the way you asked if it’s safe for me to take a bus at night.
I love the way you get in front of me when we’re about to cross the street.
I love standing next to you, talk, and realize that you’re handsomely taller than me.
I love the way you say ‘gosh, I like you’, although it may not mean anything.
I love the fact that you always walk close to me, although people tend to close our ways.

God. I love you.

I love you and I don’t want you to admire me. I want you to love me back.

This ‘love’ word is too strong but I don’t know what other word can describe this painful feeling better. I hope that one day, I can finally sit next to you in a totally different mean, that I can be your woman forever. I’ll help you take a decision or whatever.

I might be too afraid to believe in anything yet I know that I can’t fall for anyone else than you.

I love you. Fuck.

Date A Guy Who Sings

(This is another version of Rosemarie Urquico’s ‘Date A Girl Who Reads’. For the original prose, click here.)

Date a guy who sings. Date a guy who spends his money on new guitar strings instead of cigarettes. He has problems with iPod space because he has too many good songs. Date a guy who has a list of CDs he wants to buy, who has sung for his mother since he was twelve.

Find a guy who sings. You’ll know that he does because he will always hum while waiting at the bus stop. He’s the one lovingly tapping his feet to the ground when he listens to the song he loves. You see the weird gentleman smiling on the CD cover in the second hand music store? That’s the singer. They can never resist playing the songs on their guitar, especially when they have great lyrics.

He’s the guy singing while walking to the hall before that general lecture. If you peek on his iPod screen, the battery is running low because he’s kind of engrossed in the rhythm already. Lost in a world of the musician’s making. Walk by. He might give you a glare, as most guys who sing do not like to be interrupted. Ask him if he likes the song.

Walk together to the main building.

Let him know what you really think of John Mayer. See if he got through the songs of Room for Squares. Understand that if he says he completely understood the meaning of his songs he’s saying that to sound intelligent. Ask him if he loves Jason Mraz or he would like to be Jason.

It’s easy to date a guy who sings. Give him a CD for his birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of rythms, in songs or played tunes. Give him The Script, Maroon 5, or D’Sound. Let him know that you understand that tones are love. Understand that he knows the ddifference between songs and reality but by God, he’s going to try to make his life a little like his favorite song. It will never be your fault if he does.

He has to give it a shot somehow.

Sing wrong pitch to him. If he understands rhythm, he will understand you need to do it. Behind tones are other things: lyrics, meanings, soul. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail him. Because a guy who sings knows that failure always leads up to the chorus. Because guys who sing understand that all things will come to an end. That you can always create another verse. That you can begin again and again and still be the master of song. That life is meant to have a wrong pitch or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Guys who sing understand that people, like pre-chorus, develop. Except in jazz songs.

If you find a guy who sings, keep him close. When you find him up at 2 AM playing a guitar on his chest and weeping, make him a cup of tea and hold him. You may lose him for a couple of hours but he will always come back to you. He’ll talk as if the lyrics in the song are real, because for a while, they always are.

He will propose on one of his gigs. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time he’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the songs of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. He will introduce your children to the classic kid songs, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and he will sing Ronan Keating under his breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a guy who sings because you deserve it. You deserve a guy who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give him monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a guy who sings.

Or better yet, date a guy who creates songs.

Tepuk Tangan

Aku sering ragu pada suara gaduh yang dibuat orang di setiap akhir kalimatku. Mirip gerimis lebat, hanya efeknya lebih dahsyat karena diiringi dengan senyum kagum dan puas. Tadinya. Sekarang semua tepuk tangan tampak seperti racun yang akan membunuh perlahan. Bisa membunuh dengan lebih cepat jika kau lengah.

Wanita boleh hebat, asal bisa membatasi diri kalau mau dicintai.

Kita mendengar cerita bahwa Adam hidup bersama Hawa karena mereka berbagi tulang rusuk. Tapi tak ada yang berani berkhayal apa yang akan Adam lakukan seandainya Hawa diciptakan jauh lebih hebat darinya. Tak ada yang berani mengarang bahwa saat itu memang ada wanita pesaing lain tapi Hawa terbukti dipilih Adam. Tak ada.

Akhirnya, manusia terperangkap dalam ide bahwa jodoh itu sudah diatur dan malas berikhtiar. Lakukan apa yang harus dilakukan, toh pasanganmu akan muncul jika dia Tuhan sudah mengizinkan kalian bertemu. Meh.

Konsep yang salah, menurutku.

Kesempatan ini mau kupakai untuk menyalahkan tepuk tangan. Tepuk tangan di ruang-ruang rapat, melalui Skype converence, di kuliah umum, di mana pun aku mulai berceloteh. Semuanya membuat Rudi menjauh dariku. Kau pantas dapat yang lebih baik. Aku sama sekali tidak pantas untukmu. Aku hanya bajingan yang suka bermain dengan kuas, khayalnya.

Aku tidak perlu tepuk tangan. Jangankan tepuk tangan, aku bersedia membayar apa pun agar bisa hidup sampai tua bersama Rudi. Persetan dengan menjadi hebat. Apa artinya hebat kalau tak bahagia dan mencinta?

Tentang Sahabat

Dibuatin Sri Mulyati; benar-benar meledakkan kepala, banyak anggukan dan pipi merah yang terlibat selama membaca deskripsi singkat-padat ini. Saya benar-benar merasa ‘dibaca’.

Huruf dan kata menjadi singgasananya
Kalimat dan bahasa memabukkannya
Dia yang jatuh hati hanya pada yang tercendikia
Pada warna putih yang jujur dan abadi
Dia yang selalu tegak menjulang
Bicara dengan lantang
Pikirnya yang selalu bisa membungkammu terpana
Dia yang diirikan ribuan wanita tanpa pernah disadarinya
Hanya karena dia ada
Dan bersedia membagi harinya,
Sepotong kecil dari hidupnya
Hidupku menjadi lebih berwarna
Begitulah ia dimataku

(181210)
Untuk Afu.

Baru Nanti Jakarta, Setelah Batavia (2008)

Para hujan mulai menghantam tanah sekitar sungai Ciliwung yang membelah kota Jakarta jadi dua.

“Aku pergi sekolah dulu ya, Bu,” ujar Tirus sambil mengecup tangan kanan ibunya. Tak ada kalimat yang Djenar keluarkan sebagai balasan; sebagai gantinya dia bukakan sebatang payung kusam yang kemudian diulurkannya pada si pria kecil pujaan hatinya.

Payung ibu ajaib! Hati Tirus seketika merasa hangat. Payung ini jauh lebih mujarab daripada kayu putih bau yang sehabis mandi tadi ibu balurkan di seluruh tubuhku, begitu pikir Tirus.

Setelah puas bertukar senyum dengan Djenar, anak laki-laki itu berangkatlah.

***

“Jakarta, kotaku indah dan megah. Di situlah, aku dilahirkan…” Tirus punya kebiasaan bernyanyi di kala hatinya ringan. Dan seperti itulah perasaan Tirus hari ini, senang bukan kepalang. Pita suara Tirus terus bergetar melantunkan lagu-lagu favorit miliknya, dimulai hanya selang beberapa detik sejak anak itu menutup pagar mahoni rumahnya yang hobi berdecit.

Kantung di dada kiri seragam SD Tirus pagi ini lebih tipis dari biasanya. Pasalnya, hari ini siswa kelas 4 SD Sunda Kelapa itu akan mencoba busway. Pak Mustofa—guru bahasa Indonesia di sekolahnya—lebih suka menyebut kendaraan super praktis itu sebagai Transjakarta. Kalau biasanya dia harus mengocek Rp 10.000 dalam sehari untuk membayar ongkos kopaja dan ojek sampai ke sekolahnya, mulai hari ini dia hanya perlu Rp 6.000! Belum lagi dengan fasilitas AC dan kenyamanan yang Tirus dapatkan.

“Pokoknya, Jakarta emang yang paling keren!” batin Tirus, tanpa menyadari bahwa sebuah peristiwa luar biasa akan segera menimpanya.

***

Entah mengapa, perut Tirus Andito hari ini sakit sejadi-jadinya. Apa aku salah makan? Atau lupa minum obat? Ah, semua perintah ibu sudah kulakukan. Kenapa pula perutku ngambek mendadak macam ini?

“Hiks, hiks, hiks…” telinga Tirus menangkap suara orang terisak di balik pintu kamar mandi putri, persis di sebelah tempat dia buang hajat barusan.

Pikiran polos Tirus refleks menggerakkan tangannya untuk membuka pintu itu, mengintip. Siapa gerangan pelaku yang telah membuat Tirus penasaran? Terkejut bukan main, Tirus mendapati seorang anak perempuan seusianya dengan mata merah bengkak bekas menangis. Yang membikin Tirus kaget adalah pakaian yang anak itu kenakan. Atasannya bagai kemben  yang dipakai tante-tante Jawa, tapi gesper yang melingkari pinggangnya penuh dengan tombol-tombol dan lampu warna-warni yang aneh!

“Siapa kamu?”

Yang ditanya malah diam seribu bahasa. Bingung antara menceritakan yang sebenarnya dan kecewa karena tak akan dipercaya atau berbohong dan membiarkan anak lelaki yang baru ditemuinya itu percaya.

“Hatije,” dia akhirnya menyerah.

“Ngapain kamu disini?”

“Apa urusan kamu? Pergi sana!”

(bersambung)

Dibuat untuk memperingati hari ulang tahun Kota Jakarta.