Ever since I was little, I grew up with books. It’s something unavoidable, since my dad was a college lecturer. There are always tons of books everywhere. Most of the books are technical and lecture books, but I’ve been living under it. Read some and loathe some.
Legend says I’ve read books since I cannot read. My parents told me that I used to shout out the content of the entire book when I was 2 or 3. Doraemon is walking, Doraemon eats cake, Doraemon meets Nobita.
I used to think that it was a joke until my daughter started doing the same thing. She is reading the book to me (or to herself) by the age of 1.5 years. She just blurted out the entire book, using the who and what method that I used to do. Tayo is smiling, Tayo meets the passengers, Tayo goes home. It’s amazing to experience it myself.
I’d like to think that Ramadan is like a new year. You can always challenge yourself to a new habit (or habits) with an extra boost of hyperfocus. In January, I’ve always been entertained by a set of friends who try to challenge themselves on #30HariBercerita. Sometimes, I wonder why there are no similar things in February or March. So, this is me, writing again. Hopefully every day, or maybe just some days? In English or Bahasa Indonesia, about things that have been living in my head.
I miss that, the spontaneous writings, those without the need to fact-check or quote scientific journals. I don’t know if it will be relevant anymore with my age or the world, but here it is: a series of paragraphs with broken grammars or unnecessary thought processes. This is me, leaving footprints in this big world of noise.
Here we go again. Complaining about the heat, with an air conditioner on. Talking non-sensically about the non-essentials. Swallowing our privileges, without realizing it. Having confidence that we will be alive, for 5 seconds more.
Tiny dots and flying dust. Big dreams that once grow, ground explosions that burried it. Are we really living under the same atmosphere? Sharing the same stars?
This is what it felt to be alive. Hurting and bleeding. Until nothing was felt.
Fly little doves, may you be hugged in heavens. Kissed by a thousand cloud. Showered in stars.
The little liar in her wants to say something sad. But nothing came out of her because she’s not sure she was feeling sad.
The little liar in her wants to sing a song about anger, rage, and fury. But she’s afraid that will hurt someone. Someday, she cannot undo the damage she’s caused.
The little liar in her wants to tell the truth for herself, but everything was confusing because of an uncomfortable feeling lingering in her head.
But lately, why did the little liar keep telling the truth and nothing but the truth?
If she were telling the truth, why has she been calling herself the little liar?
Akhir-akhir ini, Satria lagi mencoba menantang semua hal yang belum pernah dia lakukan. Sesuatu yang kadang sering disebut “nakal”. Ibuku sering bilang akupun dulunya “anak yang nakal” karena aku menentang semuanya dan melakukan banyak hal yang tidak umum dilakukan (menyolder kursi adalah yang paling sering diungkit). Biasa, kalau punya anak, yang jelek-jelek biasanya suka dikatain turunan ibunya.
Ada satu momen yang bikin aku kembali ke masa kecilku, di mana bapak aku selalu bilang, “Udah, nggak usah dijawab lagi.” kalau kita lagi berargumen (baca: berantem). Kejadian dong, Satria selalu jawab semua hal yang aku atau Reva omongin kalau lagi nasehatin dia.
Jadi kadang, aku akhirnya merasakan juga keselnya pas udah capek banget dan sudah di boiling point. Jadilah omel-omel, omel-omel. Tapi dari yang awalnya teriak balik dan mukulin aku, sekarang Satria sering bilang, “Ibu, aku suka ibu yang baik. Jangan marah-marah lagi yaa, aku mau bersamamu selamanya.”
Wow, layaknya serangan Pokemon, “It’s super effective.”
Kid, there will be times when people tell you that you are a monster, but don’t believe them. I am. I am the monster that society created to decide ‘anak nakal’ and ‘anak baik’. And you’re the one who slays them with your kind words.
I am reminded once again that this whole journey of parenting is really self-reflective. I’m flawed, like my parents and the parents before them. But, aren’t we all?
I know the whole shenanigan of saying that before having children, you should “menyembuhkan luka batin” or “merawat inner child.” But sometimes, you cannot be prepared for what’s coming. What we can do right now is just get up, say sorry, and try to be better the next day.
Dear Satria, let’s always be kind. And someday, let’s slay more monsters together.
