Sehabis Petang

Semua terasa begitu singkat:

kita, usia dan percakapan

kau katakan sesuatu yang tak bisa kuingat;

bersedih untuk sesuatu yang tak bisa kucatat


Sehabis petang kau menjadi pengantar duka;

katamu “kesedihan sudah ada jadwalnya”

kau minta bahagia beranjak dari tidurnya;

mengemasi lalu memulangkannya


Seperti seorang asing diantara lampu-lampu kota;

Kita berdiri mendekap duka

yang sama.



Jakarta, 2017


I’ll Be Right There


This is my favorite part in Kyung-Sook Shin’s novel, I’ll Be Right There. Somehow, the narrative was reflecting my feelings toward something that I missed..

The future rushes in and all we can do is take our memories and move forward with them. Memory keeps only what it wants. Image from memories are sprinkled throughout our lives but that does not mean we must believe that our own or other people’s memories are of things that really happened. When someone stubbornly insists that they saw something with their own eyes. I take it as a statement mixed with wishful thinking. As they want to believe.

Yet as imperfect as memories are, whenever I am faced with one. I cannot help getting lost in thought. Especially when that memory reminds me of what it felt like to be always a step behind. Why was it so hard for me to open my eyes every morning, why was I so afraid to form a relationship with anyone, and why was I nevertheless able to break down my walls and find him?(*)


I vaguely remembered talking to you once about the future- something that we both can’t touch. I can sense the bitterness covered our little room where I can see the city starred by lights. Probably, this is our very first fight after we’ve been together for two years. I have no idea why these things up and I was just jaded with the games at the drop of a hat. Suddenly, your happiness becomes dreary and you serve the doubt on my plate.

We are sitting against the clock. I can hear you breathe when you’re trying to catch my watery eyes. Your heavy voice reminds me about a man who had left a mother and his daughter. You stuttered with your guilt and said “I am leaving.” You left a hundred questions to ask but this is only the future that you can offer. (*)