Tuesday, June 25, 2013

A Letter to My Rain City

I haven't told you yet, but I'm leaving. No, you didn't do anything wrong. We're just at different places in life, now. You are my young love, my place of growth. Here you told me I was enough. Here I learned that I was worthed. Here with you I was open and real, honest and tough.

Growing up I was told that I was talented, that I had the skills and talents to get to where I want to be in the future. But none of that matters because I didn't know that for myself. Encouragements and compliments could only get so far. You, though, presented me with opportunities to impress, moments of contentment with myself. I learned to shake off my fears of failures, and to reach for the possibilities. I was pushed out of my pressured shell, trying to be someone else - confident, intellectual thinker, and serious talent - to someone that I am - a happy-go-lucky, nut-ball.

I'm leaving you because my time is done. You've taught me enough, and now some other place will be my next home. Some other city will try to drill something new to me, or maybe it'll be the other way around. Nonetheless, I am leaving you because you've changed me to be a changer. So, here's my gratefulness, here is my tears of goodbye.

I will miss your people, the way they smile at strangers or say their made up greetings. I will miss your mellow, misty, wet air. The way you silence my words with your sheer night time beauty. I will miss my private moments, the tranquility and space. I will miss your comfort.

I imagine moving to my new, old, city and being swept by a flood of discomfort. Maybe a sense of righteousness, more so than discomfort. Maybe I would cry as the memories of my new, old, city came back. Or maybe I would huff from the moisture that is ever so thick in the damp tropical heat. I am not in fear, but I am in great ambiguity. I am not questioning my choice to leave, but i am questioning my real resolution for my new, old, city. Nonetheless, we'll grasp it somehow -resolution and sureness- it will come. The last page is turning.

Indonesian Writing Skill Test #01: Waktu -- work in progress --

Kayanya baru beberapa hari yang lalu saya belajar menulis angka 2012 diakhir setiap tanggal. Tanpa sadar, kita sudah berada ditengah tahun berikutnya. Memang waktu itu sesuatu yang paling tidak bisa dihitung. Maksud saya, ukuran jam dan menit itu kurang mudah untuk dirasakan, lebih-lebih untuk ditakar. Contoh, terkadang lima menit terasa selama pergantian musim kemarau ke musim hujan, sedangkan di saat-saat lain 5 menit hilang dalam satu hembusan nafas. Jadi, bagaimana sih cara menghitung waktu yang tepat -- tanpa dipagari hitungan-hitungan matematis? Mari bicara abstrak.