THE MYSTERY OF THE OLD TREE
Along the Train Track
Tuuttt….Tuttut…. Jess….
The Sri Tanjung Banyuwangi train to the final destination of Yogyakarta Tugu Station is speeding up with a group of study tours of students of SMA Negeri 2 Banyuwangi.
Outside the window there was a row of green colors that were cool to the eyes, and several rice plots that began to turn yellow and ready to be harvested. While wisps of graying clouds like cotton hang in the skyline that roll with the speed of the train, adding to the vibrant sunny weather that supports the event of their departure.
The atmosphere of the three carriages of the train boisterously low.Sound the sounds of conversation, joking, laughter, and the singing of the enthusiastic and joyful students. From the 22B chair I sat in was clear enough to see the beautiful figure, who was sitting at 19C while discussing a hot topic with his three female colleagues. The umpteenth time his eyes looked at me, like an arrow shot right through my heart. And for the umpteenth time anyway, I just smiled and looked away pretending to dissolve in conversation with my colleague, Arya. In front of me, Mira and Lina had fallen asleep somehow to the realm where the dream took her.
Basic IPA people, all things can be a conversation leads to debate. From the problems of natural science, politics, the rise of BBM, economic market policy, psychology to romance. Obviously I heard, Wiwin debated and explained all his refutations and arguments. So did Suhartini and Mike. However, he was not poor in opinion, until a topic that held him in a long silence.
“Try you thought, Wan. We've been living with our parents for 17 years. And during that time, breath, blood and food intake came from it. Similarly, with thought and conviction. The religion we profess, is chosen and taught by both our parents. Can we let go for a different man, for the woman you love? You just knew him. At most 3 years. While the religion you profess, from the family is so far the span of time comparison.”
The young man whose eyes resembled those of an eagle who had taken the train from Rogojampi station earlier disturbed my heart, starting to comment, “True, Win. But remember, like you said. God gives free will. Free will's. For human choose.”
The famous Suhartini mentioned the name of the person in full, menukas, “Awan Satria, are you not yet convinced by the beliefs you profess today?”
The man named Clouds just looked down silent, his eyes glancing at me with a glare. Then, that look he threw away at a fellow green grass out there.
He who always represented the school with a series of achievements, from the debate race, smart meticulous and scientific contest, seemed confused by Suhartini's question. The hooded woman had long been close to the Clouds. Not as a lover, but a close friend where the cloud poured out all the contents of his heart following his fatigue. I was the one who dreamed of being with him. His lover.
Three days later, during a tour in the student city of Ngayogyakarto, I often saw the look on his face. Flat, and tends to sour. It was as if the smile that was always glued at the end of his lips disappeared somewhere. Is it
still thinking about the statements of Wiwin and Suhartini, or sometimes I nosy thinking, that he was jealous of my closeness with Arya? I don't know...
Borobudur, Prambanan, Parangtritis, Keraton Dalem, Malioboro, Bakpia Pathok to Dagadu as if unable to return the smile. Why do I keep thinking about it? I miss that smile? Yeah, I miss. Could I be in love? I love Cloud Satria.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Ever since I knew him, on the first day of school SMAN 2. The low profile, generous smile, and understated impression is caught in his daily aura. Far from haughty or belagu, even impressed what is and ga neko-neko. Though it was during these 3 years, which filled the school trophy collection for the basketball branch, and various scientific championships. Until many women talk about it, close to him, want to ask and learn from him. Ask almost anything. Whether it's modus or sincere.
During the introduction session, on the first day. I saw him alone sitting in a gasibu below the banyan, in front of the school cafeteria. I walked over, ventured to hand over the book on the introductory diary of a friend. It was commonplace then. Where every woman has her friends' self-data album. Gayung. He accepted it, beginning with a gentle handshake and an innocent look at his adorable confusion.
From that moment on, we were friends and friends. Although not obvious. I mean, nobody at this school knows. My predicate. I hate to tell you this. The status of my parents who became the richest man in this banana city. The largest food entrepreneur and owner of two star hotels. As if it were necessary to leave it to the board of teachers, that I had his son betrothed to an officer of the air force academy. This made no man dare to approach me. Besides Arya, son of Aunt Irma. And Clouds, in dreams and paper scratches.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Even though we have different classes. I'm at 1.1 and he's at 1.2, a lot of teachers are teaching in the same class. So, several times I can borrow a notebook from him. Both biology and chemistry. The field he likes the most, he said. And every time, I met a piece of paper with beautiful poems.
“My love for you is deeply rooted in plunging into my soul's state tightly bound to nothing can be lost in the swallow of time.
My love for you is like a river that always flows
to the great ocean
it always flows into the delta of your heart
Although the gap is so deep, there is no way
brushed aside my longing for you Although space and time divide far apart,
but I can't get rid of my passion for you
I'm not denying, please want to mingle with your soul
Just joke whatever you want
No denying it, the desire to touch your lemongrass
While stringing up a beautiful poem just for you No self-imposed, desire wants to hold your body fragrant
Until I kiss your lips, my whole heart…
Between the curse and the lamentation of the groove of fate,
I'm desperate to stare at your beautiful smile
Between grievousness and lara will the letter of destiny,
I pray to give you a happy piece of your heart
Your smile, your happiness, your joy,
That's my happiness already.. “.
When I asked him who your beautiful poem was for, he just smiled and said, “There is dech!?” I'm getting curious. He is a simple multi-talented person. No wonder all the teachers loved him so much, including his friends. So did I. If only he knew.
Hum the song “And He Know” by Kahitna in the recesses of my heart.
* * * * * * * * * * *
This place I chose, because it is close to Gubeng Station, while sending his departure to prepare for the mutation of work duties to Bandung.
“It seems, you're really hungry! So slow to eat you? Hehe...” I tried to interrupt him enjoying fried bakmie, his favorite menu.
“I hurry, because I don't want to lose moments of seconds with you.” Kerling's smile was still as beautiful as ever.
“Back from the monastery, you came straight here? Is your soul far from Delta?” I covered my clumsiness with silly questions. Because I heard, he's a pretty well-respected monastic activist in this hero city. He even served as the chairman of Buddhist SMEs at its campus, ITS.
“Ngagel Jaya to come here maybe forty minutes.” “By the way, where were you last night? How are Mas Primas and your two sons, who? Genta and Jasmine?”
“Should we discuss that?” I said with high pitch intonation. Sighing a long sigh, I said, “We slept at the Marriott all night. Because Mas Primas has a meeting at Tunjungan Hotel. While the kids were out for a walk with his grandmother in TP (Tunjungan Plaza).”
There was a two-minute pause in silence…
“Awan, where have you been all this time? Why are you back now?” the dam of my heart breaks, the water decays from my eyes.
Gently grasping my finger, he said, “Dee, now you have a family.” He gulped, then took his glass of lemon tea, and sipped it. Only he was the one who called Dee to my real name Diana Lestari.
“Dee, our path has been much different. Look at you now! You have veiled, hijab! You have a good and understanding husband like Mas Primas. And again, there are two cute kids. Now, you're happy. And I'm happy for that too.”
“Wan, do you still love me? Like you said by BBM a few weeks ago. Then, what does that expression mean? Why are you shooting at me now? Why not eighteen years ago? Why?”
“As in BBM then I explained, when High School used to, I thought you were engaged. I was most determined to take someone else's. Although I regret it, it turns out that it is just a game of your parents and the school to cover your status. If I had known it was a lie, I might have thought a thousand times to approach you, Dee.”
“Why?”
“Because you're a rich kid, it's true that I was a poor and discouraged person. Not to mention, I want to be an example to my sisters. Therefore, various achievements I achieved, for the sake of my parents' thirst. That people with minimal income, can have a son who does not lack achievement. But, you know, I never had a boyfriend during High School. You know why, because no one is worthy or worthy, but you. No one is equal to you.”
“But, your wife now also doesn't look like me, Wan?”
“Yes, along with the development of time and maturity, is just a dream to find your equivalent. Like Jaka Tarub, the servant of Nawang Wulan, the angel of heaven.
Now, I'm more grounded. Looking for a beauty who would like to accompany me on earth.” A little laugh he commented.
“I'm not an angel, Wan. And did, because of the expression of Wiwin and Suhartini on the train first, you dare not choose me who is Muslim, while you are buddhist?” my tone may have sounded high, but I'm still sure there's no one next to the table who's caught our conversation.
“You still remember that? Woow... why?”
“Because, since I first knew, I.. I've fallen in love with you, Awan!”.
“Hahhh…? Why would a model, public figure, smartest woman, school prima donna love a village youth like Awan?”
“That's why, but I see a simple, intelligent and ga neko-neko figure in you. And I saw the ‘bening’ guy and the character was on you. And I thought you liked Lina, my best friend. Because of every Islamic religious lesson, you sit in front of the cooperative tegodain him.”
“Ha ha ha...” he laughs while wiping his tears. “it's just mode, Dee. Distraction, his war art language Sun Tzu.”
“Gini Dee, I'm honest. I loved you once. And will always love you. Even though we can't be together as lovers. You already have one, I have one. After I studied the Dhamma of Buddhism more deeply, I found His preaching to Nakulamata, Nakulapita's wife. There are four things that if owned, then a couple will last the life of his marriage, and if he dies will be reunited as a couple. The four things are samma saddha (partners of his belief), samma caga (part of his generosity), samma sila (for his good fortune), and samma panya (part of his wisdom). You and Mas Primas share his beliefs and religion. Similarly, me and Venny. That is, much better than different. For example, different, will meet various difficulties. In the case of educating the child. The child will follow the religion of papa or his mother. If one of them is sick, which religious leader will call? And what if you die, do you do a prayer procession for the dead or the families left behind? Regardless of all that, I can only hope, hopefully in the next life we can meet again. Even though you don't believe in the law of rebirth?”
“Yes, in my religion it is difficult to understand the next life. In addition there is an intermediate realm for then man is faced with the day of judgment, he will later enter heaven if there are many virtues or hell if he is evil.” “Well, understanding eternity in your heavens is difficult for us to digest. And there will be many differences that will confuse our children later who live with parents of different religions.”
He clasped my fingers again, now for both hands. “Dee, I still love you. And maybe forever. I'm sure you know that. I just hope and pray, the best for you. So that you and your family will always be happy. Even if it's not with me. Love is not always to be together.”
“Do you love Venny, Wan?”
“Sure, because I wish he was happy. As he hoped so would I. And from her womb shall give birth to our children. Who is happy.”
“Last, Wan. Are we cheating now? I still love you and you still love me. And we secretly meet here?”
It meets red. Silent moment. As if confused he replied, “I don't know what to answer. I don't know if I can talk to Venny about admitting to our meeting. While saying I once loved a woman in such a way. The shadow of his face always haunts the nights of my dreams and all my poems are inspired by him. Or it will be a mystery of my life forever until I take it to death. Either.”
I smiled at her explanation. Plain. Frankly. Like the clouds I used to know.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Tuuttt….Tuttut…. Jess….
It has been past one hour Argo Anggrek train left Jakarta Gambir Station, the destination of Yogyakarta Tugu Station. No, not for a study tour. Not with the clouds. Although on the outside it looks like the clouds are chasing a dark clot sign of wanting to pour rain.
Next to me sat the sweet Mas Primas with his eyes closed in exhaustion, after all morning playing with Genta and Jasmine. And both of our children are sleeping on the bench in front of our seats. The car bench number. Number 19C and 19D. I smiled at the resemblance twenty years ago.
I looked out, staring at the green grass interspersed with golden yellow. While gazing at the sun that was leaning westward, and the cloud that was left behind and praying, “May you always be happy, Wan!”
