Wednesday, April 30, 2003

It's not really a bright day today. In fact, the sky is dark and cloudy. However, It's a big day for you Angel.The fact that you had been appointed as one of the candidates made us feel very proud of you. It is your efforts that count. We just want you to know that it is not about winning or loosing. It is about doing your best to be part of it.

Tuesday, April 29, 2003

The phone on my desk rang. I was half way crossing my room, for a meeting. I went back to my desk and picked it up. It was your aunt, my sister. She was saying something. I could not grasp the head or tail of her statement. It was either I had not focused myself or I had been trying to deny the fact that struck my ears. It was something serious about you. My whole body was trembling and I got hold to the arm of my chair, and slowly sunk my body in it.
Angel, remember while we were driving yesterday. I asked you how you were doing with your school and you said everything was okay. Honesty is not something to flirt with. We must be married to it. I wonder what was really the matter with you. That question kept on pondering my mind. I couldn’t have any clue, we gave you everything what other girl of your age couldn’t have.
Remember the silver bullet that you need to face the facts of this life. Do you think you can manage to get it in your hand? I am trying to find the answer to this haunting question.

Monday, April 28, 2003

As soon as I entered the room, the conversation was cut off and everyone stood still. All the whispers and mutters vanished into the thin air. A new topic was brought up to fill the emptiness. Everyone was giving the impression that they were fascinated by the topic. They gave comments, empty statements. The air was filled with pretenders. The truth of a matter will always haunt you, no matter how secret the hiding place. Were you the architect, Angel?

Friday, April 25, 2003


Her beauty is like the morning sun rising in the horizon. Her slim tall delicate figure is covered by her soft silky complexion. Dark, shiny and straight hair hanging down and curled in right on her shoulder. Her lips were like blushing roses and her rosy cheeks adorned her perfect shaped face. Almond shaped eyes with heavy lashes. That was how you described one of your friend to me.
Beauty… Physical beauty impinges our sense of vision. You may be beautiful as perceived by the perception of others but beauty submerges beyond physical beauty. Face is only the serial number of a human specimen. There is another side of beauty…
Angel, know yourself better before you talk about beauty. I am sure you have so many beautiful things inside you that can be developed. Spend efforts to improve your inner beauty. The steadfastness of purpose, Faithfulness to principle, Sense of duty, and Strength of character, knowledge and willing to participate in life lead to the possession of inner beauty. The inner beauty is what truly turns you to be beautiful. It is a part of all of us that lives outside of time. It’s eternal and immortal.

Thursday, April 24, 2003


Bye mom… a light kiss on my cheek, and you got out of the car. You walked slowly with your school bag hanging on your shoulder and your right hand carrying a big plastic bag containing your cheers costume. Xandraaaaaa………I heard you shouting, calling out your friend’s name. You walked faster, approaching your best friend. The two of you spurted out laughing and walked side-by-side entering the school building. Two high-spirited girls were entering the gate of life.
As I drove slowly the echoes of your laughter was still drumming in my mind. Back many years to the past, I was in your position. As far as I remember, I thought I knew why I had to be in a building called a school. Many reasons twirled around my head at that time, I had to be there because my mom wanted me to have an education. I had to be there more or less for a very traditional reason, because others were doing it as well. I also knew that it would be good for my future but…didn’t really realize it.
Later when I grew up and entered the battle of reality, I regretted myself for not really understanding why I had to be in that building called school, for not taking it into my awareness that it would have an immense impact on my life in the future. As I enter the autumn of my life, I wish I could have brought spring back into my life so as to be able to do my utmost for my education.
Angel, I hope you do understand why you have to be there….

Wednesday, April 23, 2003


Morning routine starts at six. We enter the car and left home. Prior to turning the radio on, we pray. We say the same words again and again. You begin your prayer with expressions of gratitude for all his blessings provided upon us. Then you move to your hopes and wishes for us, our relatives, our friends, the entire nation and the world. Finally you ask for God’s forgiveness for all the sins that we have done in the past.
Praying turns to be a ritual. A ritual that we believe works like magic spell, as we pray all His blessings will be bestowed upon us. It reminds me of Rendra’s poem:

Sering kali aku berkata, ketika orang memuji milikku, bahwa
sesungguhnya ini hanya titipan, bahwa mobilku hanya titipan Nya, bahwa
rumahku hanya titipan Nya, bahwa hartaku hanya titipan Nya, bahwa
putraku hanya titipan Nya,
tetapi, mengapa aku tak pernah bertanya, mengapa Dia menitipkan padaku?
Untuk apa Dia menitipkan ini pada ku? Dan kalau bukan milikku, apa yang
harus kulakukan untuk milik Nya ini? Adakah aku memiliki hak atas
sesuatu yang bukan milikku? Mengapa hatiku justru terasa berat, ketika
titipan itu diminta kembali oleh-Nya ?. Ketika diminta kembali, kusebut
itu sebagai musibah kusebut itu sebagai ujian, kusebut itu sebagai
petaka, kusebut dengan panggilan apa saja untuk melukiskan bahwa itu
adalah derita.
Ketika aku berdoa, kuminta titipan yang cocok dengan hawa nafsuku, aku
ingin lebih banyak harta, ingin lebih banyak mobil, lebih banyak
popularitas, dan kutolak sakit, kutolak kemiskinan, seolah semua
"derita" adalah hukuman bagiku.
Seolah keadilan dan kasih Nya harus berjalan seperti matematika: aku
rajin beribadah, maka selayaknyalah derita menjauh dariku, dan nikmat
dunia kerap menghampiriku. Kuperlakukan Dia seolah mitra dagang, dan
bukan kekasih. Kuminta Dia membalas "perlakuan baikku", dan menolak
keputusanNya yang tak sesuai keinginanku, Gusti, padahal tiap hari
kuucapkan, hidup dan matiku hanyalah untuk beribadah...
"ketika langit dan bumi bersatu,
bencana dan keberuntungan sama saja"
( WS Rendra).

Praying is something, however, living is more than just a prayer. It’s also taking hold of the wisdom God gives us and actually applying it.

Tuesday, April 22, 2003


Mom…I’m going to be home at 3 o’clock today…do you think you can pick me up? Two missed calls and one message entered my cell phone. It had been a hectic day. I did not manage to pick you up. This feeling, torn in between, has been part of my life most of the time. I have left one-foot step at home, whereas the other one is in the office.
I arrived home and saw you wrapping yourself inside a blanket next to grandma. Hmmm… my cocoon. You greeted me. Your voice was deep and heavy, as if there was something blocking your throat. You needed a good sleep. I went to your room and turned on the computer. You moved from your sister’s room and sunk your exhausted body into your own bed. I left the computer and laid myself next to you. I was trying to share your days and asked you one or two questions about your trip. You were too fatigue to answer. I stopped and we slept close to each other… sailing through the ocean of dream until morning has broken.

Monday, April 21, 2003


Scene One - Sounds of laughter busted out of the car. Your sister was sitting next to me, and you were sitting at the back part of the seat. Your teacher was the central figure of our discussion that day. You were miming and copying the way she talks. Every single details of her were within your coverage.
Scene Two - We stopped by at QB and begun to pick some books. We went to the cashier to make the settlements. I then realized that I did not have my purse with me. You were so embarrassed and were trying to put all the blame on somebodyelse.
Scene Three - All the machines were there, next to your grandma. She was lying there helplessly. Her glazing eyes were glued to the ceiling. A thin layer of tears was enveloping them.
A middle-aged lady was lying there next to grandma. She was in coma, solitude in her own world. Her husband was hugging her affectionately with all his love, whereas the other fingers were running through her hair. The lines of weariness and depression were drawn in his face. His lips were trembling, and he was murmuring something that I assumed as a prayer. Drops of white diamonds ran down through his bony cheeks and landed in the wrinkled forehead of the grey haired suffering lady. He wiped the wet forehead with the sleeve of his jacket, as if he was trying to ease her pain and transmitted the pain to himself. The breath of life was stored in the machine, a victory of machine over the existence of human being.

Scene Four - What kind of existence is life after death? Is it some permutation of what we have already experienced in life? Shall we be alone or in a crowd?

Thursday, April 17, 2003


The night was cold. I entered your room and turned on the light. It was empty. Silence was drifting in the air. Your bed was smooth and clean. Your desk was a bit disorganized. The cupboard, the computer, the chest of drawers, the chairs and the sofa they were all there. We were all silent with no word spoken.
I moved to your bed and sat on the curb of it. I saw your picture on the wall. It was taken when you were 12 years old. An innocent and naive face with long straight dark hair was looking and smiling at me. I stared back and was stirred under your magic spell. The corner of my lips rolled up slightly and a thin and vague smile was engraved on my lips.

I lazily stood up and turned off the light. It is dark all over your room. I laid my weary mind on your bed. My eyes were fixed to the ceiling. The dazzling and glittering stars embellished the dark bluish sky. The croissant shaped moon emerged like a glowing magic wagon among hundreds of luminous fairies. I saw a bare footed captivating princess sitting on the curve of the moon; long straight hair, beautiful smile with a white daisy ornamented crown. Mommy…. mommy…your voice was pondering my eardrums as it echoes continuously across the empty room. It twirled around the blank space of the cubicle before it gradually diminished and turned into nothingness. I was miles and miles away…a funny feeling was crawling and hankering inside me.

Wednesday, April 16, 2003


Do you remember the butterflies in our garden? They flapped their colorful wings in the tranquility of the morning sun. We watched them in dismay, flying gracefully from one flower to another. You said to me, Mom…aren’t they beautiful.
My little angel, have you ever thought what they were before? I guess you do. They were the small caterpillars that turn your stomach every time we watched them in motion through the morning dew. They munch all the leaves and the buts of my roses.
I remember also the time when you were still my petite fille in Australia. On one summer day, as we walked hand in hand among the trees in the campus, we saw empty cocoons scattered on the grass. You asked me what happened to the living thing inside. I told you that some had transformed into the beautiful butterflies, whereas the unfortunate ones had turned into ash and became part of the earth. You felt really sorry for the unfortunate ones.

The metamorphose stages happen to every living creature, including you. You were once a little girl, but today…you are seven-teen. When you were born…we had put so many hopes and expectations. Sometimes we articulate our wishes but some other time we keep them frozen in our mind. We are afraid that we might shove too many loads upon you.
As we watch you grow up…we then realized that you have your own breath of life. We also realized that some of our hopes and expectations might not be valid for you. We try to transform you to be the missing puzzle of our live. However, most parents have gone through this path of life. Being adults and even parents do not mean that we are perfect..

We realize that you are now entering the page of reality of a teen-age angst. Mom and Dad cannot bestow the world on your lap; neither can we be eternal for you. You will have to encounter serious and significant dilemmas in your life. All those rocky and winding roads…will probably lead you to weariness. We just want to remind you: Do not stop…no matter how weighty they are. Fight for your dreams…and reach for the stars…. Be the fortunate living thing inside the cocoon and turn into a butterfly.

Finally, We just want you to treasure what we have made available for you…a basket full of love!!! Love can turn life into miracles and they are eternal.
Let this pages serve as an expression of our love to you, how we watch, care and love you, every single seconds of your life. However, we are just human beings. God only can give you the complete love. So place your life in His hand and you will get a complete love and life.
May God shower upon you all His blessings.