Thursday, January 31, 2013

Far Future in A Formal Hall


It was almost dark when I rapped on your chamber door. And there you opened the door, revealing yourself in the formal attire. Black tie dress code, and you interpreted that by dressing all in black. For a second, I thought that my heart would stop beating in amazement.

“Are you ready?” said I.

You nodded and smiled. The rose that I held was then moving to your hand, enlarging the smile carved on your lips.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful!”

You grabbed my hand and hurriedly locked the door, as if we need to spend each and every precious second of that night together. But don’t you know that your touch sent the romantic tingles all around my nerves? Instead of giggling, I transposed that tingle unto a very big smile. And this is how you manage to make me smile all the time. All the time.

We walked hand-in-hand down the Castle Hill, along the lights from small old English pubs. The gown covering my black tuxedo kept me warm, yet your coat was apparently too thin for the winter breeze. The usual British winter, cold and dry without any trace of snowflakes. Did you remember how you were shaken by the cold? It was that moment when I held your shoulders in my hug; at least, some parts of you were covered by the gown.

Eddies’ gate felt so inviting as we entered through the front door. Mary -the night receptionist- smiled at us. That was your first visit to the college, wasn’t it? It was not a big nor famous college, unlike John or Trinity. But your eyes were glistening with joy and excitement. It was not until we walked down the hall –passing the pigeon holes- into Combination Room that you got more and more excited. We came just in time for the sherry reception, when you saw band of people wearing their gowns and formal dresses.

I had to admit, Eddies’ sherry is not as good as the Peterhouse’s one. But it was enough to warm your small stature within the embrace of bleak winter night. As if you forget that we were out of Indonesia, your face blushed in reddish shade as I pecked your cheek. Nobody thought it was a sin, dear. Across the room, you can also see people hugged their partners tightly.

“Is that okay?” you asked slowly, startled.

Just a small nod in response. And I could feel your hand gripped mine strongly. I could still recall you being timid and shy in one second and another startle came upon your face when the gong was hit. “What was that?”

“It’s the sign for us to march to the dining hall!” I whispered. Determined to show your worth, you walked confidently next to me going to the Hall. Not an exquisite one, for Eddies is not famous for being a rich college. You couldn’t see any beautiful paintings other than the chronological portraits of our Masters. I swear there was nervousness all over your face when we were looking for our seat. The bleak night outside further enhanced the warm light emitted by the candles in between us. The warm yellowish light touched upon your dark attire and my gown.

We were standing as the gong sounding, waiting for the short grace in Latin read by the Dean. The religious side in you seemed to get into climax upon hearing that Latin grace. It was five-courses meal with cheese in the end. But you strived upon gulping the red and white wine. Our hands were touching in the middle of the meal, and the neighbouring lady gave us an approving nod. You might forget her, but she was my hallmate.

The port wine finally came. I joked to you, “This is what runs Cambridge! The main motivation for us to come here, the infamous port!” Mixed chatters could be heard from all directions and the couple sitting next to us asked, “So, how did you two meet?”

“Over a simple text message, to sum up!” you giggled. “Thanks to a friend who match made us!” I knew from your giggly response, three glasses of wine and the initial sherry had got into your nerves. But, I just smiled at you. Small wink.

The dinner had finally done with the closing grace. “You wanted to stop by at the bar?” I asked among the marching students walking out of the hall.

“I don’t think I can have another glass of alcohol. Can we just go back to the house?”

“And why is that?”

“Because I just want to be together with you!”

At that moment, I hugged you tight, blocking the remaining students from going out. But I don’t care.

Because you were there.

And you are here......


PS : This is what I imagine, to be with my loved one in my beloved city.....





Sunday, January 20, 2013

Bahagiakah saya?

Menanti sebuah penerbangan kembali ke Yogyakarta di Bandara Cengkareng tiba-tiba membawa kembali memori akan sebuah kejadian empat tahun yang lalu. Sudah lama sekali aku tidak memasuki terminal 1 di bandara itu, terima kasih pada sponsor yang membuat saya selalu bisa mendarat di terminal 2. Akan tetapi, hari ini saya kembali masuk ke terminal 1 dan menunggu disana.

Ketika melihat deretan bangku-bangku yang diisi oleh para calon penumpang, benak ini memutar kembali kala terakhirku duduk di sana. Empat tahun yang lalu, pada masa-masa hijauku, aku merasa cukup tertegun melihat seorang Bhikku yang berjalan keliling ruang tunggu tersebut. Tiba-tiba saja muncul sebuah dorongan untuk menyumpalkan ear piece dan memutar sebuah lagu dari ponsel.

Entah karena terinspirasi oleh sang bhikku atau memang sebuah bisikan ilahi, tangan ini memilih lantunan 'Heart Sutra'. Entah mengapa lantunan mantra tersebut selalu memiliki efek yang sangat menenangkan bahkan hingga hari ini.

Sekitar sepuluh menit setelah lagu itu selesai, sang bhikku yang melewati kursiku berhenti sejenak. Ia memandang ke arahku dan tersenyum. Kata-katanya sangat singkat tetapi misterius, "Wah, anda bahagia ya? Enak bukan menjadi bahagia?" Seselesainya berkata seperti itu, beliau pergi.

Ia meninggalkanku tertegun. Baru beberapa bulan sebelumnya aku membahas konsep kebahagiaan yang sejati, konsep kebahagiaan yang dihayati oleh para Buddhist. Bahagia di situ berarti tidak lagi terikat pada apapun, tidak menginginkan apapun, tidak merasa apapun. Dan konsep itu kembali masuk ke dalam benak ini, membangun sebuah pertanyaan besar. "Sudah bahagiakah saya?" Bagaimana mungkin sang Bhikku itu hanya berhenti di hadapan saya untuk mengatakan kalimat misterius itu? Bagaimana dia mengetahui bahwa saya tengah berbahagia? Raut mukaku pada saat itu pun sebenarnya adalah raut muka yang sangat lelah. Bau bantal, istilahnya. Lalu, apa yang sebenarnya membuat beliau mengatakannya kepadaku?

Empat tahun sudah berlalu. Tapi kembali masuk ke dalam terminal tersebut kembali menggali ingatan dan misteri itu. Hari ini, tidak ada lagi sosok sang bhikku. Tapi pertanyaan yang sama masih belum terjawab, "Bahagiakah saya?"

Soekarno-Hatta, 5 Desember 2012