This used to be my cue for gluing my ears to the radio, which was not much of a radio to start with. It was an unsightly lidless contraption with all dusty components--cathodes, diodes, and whatnots--visible to naked eye. "Don't touch that part. Nyetrum**", warned my cousin as he gave me that thing, unwanted now that he just bought a new Sony stereo. Anyway, that reluctant-to-live-yet-unwilling-to-die radio turned out to be a faithful companion who saw to it that my highschool years were not devoid of some colorful background music. This include long nights of listening to shadow puppet shows.
Those days, not all radio aired around the clock. Most went off air a little after midnight. So for a part-time insomniac like me, an all-night long shadow puppet shows, especially those aired live, were nothing short of a blessing. They gave reassurance that I was not the only poor sod still awake at the hour.
I'm not going to pretend that I know much about wayang. For one, I don't really understand the language. Seriously, most of the narrations are delivered in some sort of ancient Javanese no longer spoken by your average Slamet, or Eko for that matter. Yet, it never fails to make me go 'whoa!'. In addition, they are supposed to contain a truckload of equally ancient wisdom. You know, stuffs like what life is all about, what to do when calamity just can't get enough of you, and how to behave in the face of homo ignoramus. Admittedly, these gems are delivered in a somewhat preachy manner, yet it's such a joy to listen to. Again, perhaps it's the language. So it's kinda like listening to a Shakespearean play. You don't understand the whole thing, but the bits that you do understand make you feel good.
Sadly, what kept me up all night is not the lessons about morality, wisdom, and the likes. Rather, it's the humor. The show is filled with characters that crack you up every now and then. My hero, therefore, is not the almighty flying Gatotkaca with wire muscles and iron bones. Nor Antareja whose extremely venomous tongue would retain the ability to kill even if it's only applied on his enemy's foot print. Although I have to admit that it's quite impressive. Nor Antasena whose non-conformist attitude is reflected in his inability to clasp his palms together as a token of respect to others, including the gods. Nope. My hero is actually an orc-like member of Kurawa family called Durmagati.
Why? Because in a realm that is made up of entirely two-dimensional characters, Durmagati stands out as an almost-human character, especially in the skilled hands of Mr. Sugito. Durmagati rants about how his wife and kids continuously demand more spending money due to skyrocketing prices. Or about Kartomarmo teaching his kids some inappropriate adult stuffs. He asks Sangkuni to hold his wallet for him before slugging it out with invading armies, usually the good guys, for fear of losing it.But what floored me is when he showed his acute understanding the concept of his fate as a puppet. Once, before his usual slug-fest with the Pandawas, he confided to Sangkuni that he thoroughly understand that until hell freezes over he, or the Kurawas for that matter, would never win a fight against the Pandawas. There's nothing new with the story line, he said in a typical Javanese pasrah attitude, I always end up being a human punching-bags for the likes of Setyaki or Abimanyu. Yet, he still fought. "Mung kanggo keguyuban, kok, Man ( referring to Sangkuni)***..."
And I laughed myself to tears...
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*"Dear listeners, tonight's shadow puppet show is performed by the Esteemed Puppet Master Hadi Sugito from Toyan, Wates, entitled 'Antasena's Quest for His Father'. Good Night and enjoy.." more or less..
**I don't what's the right equivalent in English, but if you touch something that comes with 'nyetrum' warning, there is a fairly good chance that you'll get electrocuted.
***Just for the sake of solidarity (with other Kurawas), Man...
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