E-mail to Holiday: The Smells of My Childhood

Holiday,

Smell of my childhood, are you kidding? You are talking to a nostalgic freak. I take refuge in the past anytime I cannot cope with the present. You know, back then the worst thing that can happen to you when you screw up is getting scolded, having to survive prolonged lectures of ethic, good manners, and we-are-working-hard-to-raise-you-is-this-how-you-repay-us? and/or, in worst cases, being grounded. But when I really think about it, it WAS pretty scary as well back then.

When I really put my mind into it, I can still smell my old elementary school classroom; the smell of chalk, blackboard, walls or even the familiar smell of fear when you realized that you forgot to do your homework and the teacher was walking down your isle to check. The contracting stomach; the cold sweat; the whatamigonnados. I remember the scent of newly purchased, newly opened text book. The mouth-wathering smell of orange-scented rubber eraser. The leathery smell of new shoes that I insist on putting on before I went to bed. The smell of freshly ironed white cotton shirt that felt warm when you put it on. The carbol disinfectant of the lavatory.

I remember the sweet, sweet smell of grass carried by the warm afternoon breeze down at the soccer pitch. The sour metal smell of the goalposts; plasticky smell of the net. In fact I still refresh my memory of that smell whenever I get a chance. a couple of months ago when I went home, I visited the old soccer pitch. As there’s nobody playing, I parked my motorcycle and walked to one of the goalposts, steel-grey where the white paint had been. Yeah, it’s still the same smell. I sat down and lit a cigarette. Inhaled deeply, eyes closed. The little kid within me played with flashes of goals scored, tackles made, goals denied, saves made, the post-match lumps and bruises, the victories, the losses.

I remember the smell of hurriedly prepared breakfasts. Tempe goreng, oseng-oseng kacang panjang, telur dadar, kerupuk kolong. I remember the smell of plastic raincoat I hid under as my father took me to school on his motorcycle on rainy days. I remember that in the minuscule universe of plastic raincoat all I can do was looking down at the dark grey asphalt road blurring fast below . I remember guessing where I was and peeked outside to confirm. I remember the smell of rain and the wet playground. I remember the colorful umbrellas in front of the classroom doors. Some poor souls was scolded by their mothers later that day for forgetting to bring their umbrellas back home.

I remember the salty scent of seaborne wind. The taste of sea-water. The smell of its vapor as I tried to dry myself after an hour of conducting the ultimate sin of swimming without adult supervision. I remember the shrimps I used as bait. I remember the Jerukan fish that I once caught; it’s a fish that smells, strangely enough, like lime. Everything about it is sea-smelling. The sand castle, the tiny crabs, the fishing boats scattered in rows across the beach. I remember the foul-smelling salted fish processing site. I remember the thick smell of terasi and petis in my Cina-Bagan friend’s house.

I remember the smell of roasted corn, of pink cotton candy, of bakso, of cheap and hardly fizzy drinks when my parents took my brothers and I to Alun-Alun (some sort of city square) on Saturday nights. Very rare Saturday nights. I remember the Bentoel biru that my father smoked. I remember the ‘gembus’(a donut shaped fried cake made from singkong—only available in Banyumas) vendor near the wayang kulit show.

Yeah, when I’m alone. Late, late at night. I can still smell them.

Yours truly,
Grim

merindukanmu adalah lagu

merindukanmu adalah lagu
mengangankanmu adalah nafas
menyentuhmu adalah tarian
mencintaimu adalah hidup

Se7en

Review:
It's dark. It's gloomy. And if you can find any other synonims for dark or gloomy, it's all of them. The lightest color is off-white which is almost every wall, visible only if somebody switch the light on. Dark brown is the chosen color of every furniture, again if there is enough light to see them with. The apartments definetely needs repainting and the tennants seem to be very fond of 10-watts light bulbs, not a watt brighter. The weather doesn't help much either. It comes in two modes only; raining and cloudy with light drizzle.

And in this dark, dark city (the fact that it strongly resembles New York is hardly surprising) Somerset(Freeman),a veteran detective 7 days away from retirement pairs with a hotheaded new arrival Mills(Pitts) bubbling with high ideals to follow trails of a psychopatic murderer. Sounds like the basic plot of your everyday psycho-thriller, eh? Well, as you go along, this movie will take you to a higher ground.

The first of the ensuing murders is that of an obese man, tied in ankles and wrists, sitting face down in a plate of spaghetti. The murderer had force-fed him to death. Behind the refrigerator, the word 'gluttony' is written in grease. The second crime scene presents the body of a rich defense lawyer who was forced to cut off a pound of his own flesh and was left to bleed to death. Upon seeing the word 'greed' written in blood on the floor, something clicks in the mind of the well-educated, well-read Somerset. He knows that they must expect more dead bodies related to the remainder the seven deadly sins; sloth, lust, pride, envy and wrath.

Seven is the only psycho thriller i know where the acts of violence do not happen in the movie. It happens in your head. You are given the pictures of what had happened, it is up to you to imagine HOW it had happened. Don't expect any portrayal of running victims banging on doors in dark alleys screaming for help or a psycho scalps his victim's head while the latter is having dinner. Instead, you will see some of the goriest things a human do to another. It is disturbing, however, to imagine what kind of minds actually come up with these things.

The plotline is way above average and the ending...can't say anything about the ending. It is one of those things that will disturb you for days.

I've seen 'Kiss The Girls" and i have to say when it comes to old, reserved, wise and grim personality, Morgan Freeman is your man. In Seven he played flawlessly as a seasoned detective whose life and the lives around him has worn him down. While Pitt really believes that they will eventually catch the psycho, Freeman knows that what they do is literally follow his trail and pick up the pieces of evidences which someday just might be useful. This movie literally belongs to him. Brad Pitt however plays the standard explosive young cop eager 'to make a difference'. Freeman is the brain, Pitt is the muscle. Gwyneth Paltrow is pitifully underused. The psycho? I'm not gonna say anything about him. It's a neat surprise..and well cast too...

All in all, it is a smart thriller that doesn't aim to startle its audience everytime it gets a chance. You'll leave the theathre with something to think about.
It's 8 out of 10.

Champions World Series: Liverpool 2 - AS Roma 1

Gosh! i woke up just as Chris Kennedy, the referee, blew the half time whistle. I cursed myself for missing the first half actions. Now i had 15 minutes to made my self some coffee, take a quick bath and prepare myself for the second half.

I did so and was in front of the TV promptly as the ref signalled the beginning of the second 45 minutes of football match between Liverpool and AS Roma. From the commentator, i learnt that the halftime score was 1-1. AS Roma opened the score and was promptly retaliated by Liverpool's new signing Djibril Cisse.

Liverpool turned up with their usual lacklustre performance that made me wonder why i root for this club at the first place. It was all about deep defending and occasional counterattack.Riise and Murphy made sporadic runs at the left and right flank respectively but the crosses never found the right customer. It was Roma who came close to scoring at 55th minute. Panucci drove a fleeting cross from the left and Candela hit the post from less than 6 yards. Panucci had another go at the hour mark when his curved shot hit the bar with Dudek at no man's land. The rebound fell to Candela but he couldn't quite connect. This time Dudek was right where all Liverpool fans around the world wanted him to be. In response to this battery, Murphy fired a freekick a mile high.

It was beginning to look like a bad day at the office for Michael Owen who had been prowling harmlessly at the front without firing a single shot, until the 85th minute. Following a Liverpool counter-attack, Roma's defender clearance rebounded off Liverpool midfielder Dietmar Hamman and the ball fell right into the path of the last man you want to see unmarked in the box . Yep, Michael Owen. Calm as a coma, the Liverpool man fired a thunderous shot with surgical precision past the goalkeeper. The poor man didn't stand a chance whatsoever.

The goal sparked a new life to the match. In the last 5 minutes Roma players besieged the Anfield boys. They came close to equalizing several times but Liverpool fought tooth and nail to secure the victory and the Kops got what they came there to see. Final score: Liverpool 2 - AS Roma 1.

I Love You

I love you
that simple
don't ask me why
i just do

Kasbon

Aaaah..akhirnya aku kasbon lagi. Pengeluaranku banyak banget bulan ini (sigh!). Mana banyak kondangan lagi...
Darn! Darn! Darn! Baru Jum'at kemaren aku terima tunjangan, sekarang udah harus kasbon..boro-boro bisa nabung! Gaji? jangan tanya soal gaji. Sampai Juni 2006 aku nggak akan terima gaji..udah kepotong pinjaman BRI.
Bapak, Ibu..akhirnya aku turuti jejakmu..kasbon lagi..kasbon lagi...

PS: saya berjanji mulai saat ini akan menjadi pengelola keuangan yang baik..setidaknya untuk diri sendiri..

Who Would Have Thought?

A friend of mine called the other day. He's working for Jakarta Post and currently working on an article about DAU (Dana Alokasi Umum-General Allocation Fund). Since it is the core business of my department he thought he'd see me and get a rough picture before he interviewed a higher ranking officer.

So i made a copy of the material and on the appointed time we met and go through it over lunch, which consisted of an excellent portion of fried rice and chicken in sesame oil. He's one hardworking son of a bitch, i got to hand it to him. He worked his way up from various pulp-newspapers before finally landed a lucrative job at the Post.

During the course of the discussion, he suddenly stopped, looked around, we were eating at a cafeteria in BUMN building by the way, and muttered," You know, back then at the university, who would have thought that one day you and me will be sitting here discussing economics..." He's got a point there. We both hated economics. I used to shudder with disgust everytime i had to translate economic texts. I did it anyway, though. I needed the money.

During the days in jogja, aeons ago, our topic of conversation, drunk or sober, was limited to movies, games, lectures, girls and ways to cheat during exams. We spent sleepless nights watching pirated movies (back then we couldnt even afford to rent original VCDs) or trying to find ways to defeat Zerg Armies in Starcraft. I proofread his graduating paper making sure he didnt make too many grammatical errors. He lent me his motorcycle so i could go out on dates. There were so many financial exchange between us i forgot who owes who..and how much.. We went on road trips and planned class outings. He arranged every detail of my Student Association Chairman campaign...My other friend and i went to Jakarta to calm him down when his 6-year girlfriend dumped him..

Yet, who would have thought? Who would have thought he and i would end up where we are now? I have always thought that i would end up being a teacher and live peacefully in Jogja. And he..god knows what he wanted to be..he kept changing his mind every two seconds..one day he wanted to work for the UN and the the next day he announced that he wanted to start an internet business. Who would have thought?

Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you gonna get, said Ol' Forrest gump.

Life is a roller coaster..or in my case, maybe a merry-go-round..

Anyway, whatever life is..a hair-raising rollercoaster or a peaceful merry-go-round..i'm old enough to learn that you better enjoy the ride..

Hari Ini Aku Nggak Pulang

hari ini aku nggak pulang
hari ini aku nggak ngantri tiket di stasiun senen
hari ini aku nggak pulang kantor awal untuk packing

malam nanti aku nggak naik bajaj ke stasiun
malam nanti aku nggak beli nasi goreng dari restorasi
malam nanti aku nggak minum nescafe dari styrofoam cup
malam nanti aku nggak menggelar koran untuk tidur di lantai kereta

besok pagi aku nggak bangun karena ada orang yang teriak "tawang! tawang!"
besok pagi aku nggak cuci muka dan sikat gigi di toilet stasiun
besok pagi aku nggak tawar menawar sama supir taksi

besok pagi aku nggak akan ketemu kamu

Mall Mesjid

Setiap habis jum'atan, banyak orang yang menggelar dagangan di seputar pelataran mesjid deket kantor. Kalo pas beruntung kamu bisa dapet barang yang murah tapi bagus. Kadang aku sampe bingung...niatku ke mesjid itu buat solat jum'at atau shopping di 'Mall Mesjid" setelahnya...

di malam hari, kerlip lilin lebih terang dari matahari

di malam hari, kerlip lilin tebih terang dari mentari*
jakarta adalah malamku,
mentari adalah kekasihku,
dirimu?
engkaulah lilin itu....




*diilhami dari syair lagu "Englishman in New York" oleh Sting
"at night a candle is brighter than the sun"

Cisarua-Lapangan Banteng in 2,5 Hours

The office asked me to help out in a 3-day 'konsinyering' in Cisarua, Bogor, starting last Tuesday. For those who are unfamiliar with the term, 'konsinyering' means doing work in isolated place(hotels or resorts, mainly); away from phonecalls, meetings, and other everyday office activities. The aim of which is to get as much work done in predesignated amount of time.

Anyway, i found out that my boss only gave me two day permission, so i had to go back to Jakarta, somehow, this morning. I had two options: to go by bus or by train. It seemed like going by bus was the more convenient choice. I could simply board a bus from the street in front of the Hotel and ride to Kampung Rambutan, then i could board another to Gambir and complete the rest of the journey on foot. 15 minutes of it. But given the situation that today is indeed a weekday and traffic jam would be everywhere, even as near as the Ciawi Freeway-Gate. Chances are I would arrive in Jakarta somewhere near lunchtime. So train it is...

I planned to start at 5 a.m.. However, due to the failure of alarm clock i wasn't on the road until 6.  I boarded a small angkot to Bogor. Since i was unfamiliar with the terrain, the driver offered some pointers. He agreed to drop me off at Sukasari and told me to board another 'angkot' to PLN from where I was to walk to Bogor railway station.  By 6.30 i was in Sukasari. I thought i was making a good time because the last of Pakuan Express is at 7. How far can it be to the station? Can't be more than half an hour, right? After all, Bogor is a small city. Boy, was i a dumb ass...

The kind angkot driver then directed me to board another angkot that would take me to PLN. It was a pleasant journey at first. The angkot glided slowly but sure. However, after ten minutes, the driver began grumbling in Sundanese about the lack of passnger and the condition of the angkot business. He cursed the entire city official for the licence-granting policy that in his opinion was carried loosely. Too many angkots for too small a city. To make things worse, at a certain intersection he stopped. Literally, stopped. He decided to wait for more passengers, coompeting with hundreds of other angkots in the process. Minutes ticked by and i glanced at my watch. Things like this always happen when you're already late. It's already 7. I had missed the Pakuan. Nonetheless, i held my ground and be patient. Fifteen minutes and two additional passengers later the angkot moved on, driver still grumbling.

Finally, i reached the PLN and hurriedly walked to the station. I couldn't help noticing that Bogor wasn't really famous for its cleanliness or orderlyness. Vendors were everywhere, inhabiting spaces previously meant for pedestrians. The station at last! Hundreds of people already there. Most of them were already packed into economy class trains. I would ride on one of them if i miss the Pakuan. I had nothing against economy trains, except for...okay, you have to ride one of them to know what i'm saying...the train is a battleground in which you have to fight for space and defend yourself from the heat, pickpockets, mugger, and sex perverts. Pakuan, however, is a different story. It has air conditioner, fairly comfortable benches and the best part is it doesn't stop at every station from Bogor to Jakarta Kota. It's 7.30 and the last of the Pakuans had departed..........or maybe not?

Indonesia Railway Service is notorious for its unpunctuality, if there is such word as 'unpunctuality'. Bottom line is, if the notice board at the station says that your train will arrive at 9, it actually means 10.30 at the earliest. However, this morning i was glad of that 'unpunctuality'. As i walked to the nearest economy ticket booth i noticed that the Pakuan booth was still open. I rushed in and bought my self a ticket. The train was about to depart..30 minutes off schedule. So went in and enjoyed the spacious ride....at 9.30 i was back at the office. I still missed the morning attendance check, though...