Eid Al-Fitr in the City of Rain

Hi!

First thing first, here's a bonus photo to start this post: a big bowl of Bakso Pak Jangkung! Pak Jangkung used to selling meatballs around my dad's neighborhood (one of my favorite childhood memory) and now he already got his own stall in a shophouse. I couldn't be more happier! Yeya!

This year, I chose to spend my Eid Al-Fitr with Ayah, my dad. Which means, it was the first time I have to celebrate Eid Al-Fitr without Ibu, my mom, beside me. Well, it was kinda bizarre. Ibu called me every second to make sure I'm okay and told me she found it hard to sleep when there's no me beside her, and did the opposite when I'm next to her. Weirdly, Ayah felt and did the same thing as my mom so I concluded that I'm such a sleeping pill for them. How to be fair as their daughter? I can't be torn up, that's for sure.

What I got since I step my foot in Ayah's house is that I'm still a daddy's little girl. He still treats me like I'm a little girl, maybe he forgot that I already got number two in front of my age. He pinches my cheeks, he plays with my hair, he hugs me like a teddy bear. He still calls me with "Brot" thingy (refer to something cute in his vocabulary) and what I miss about my dad is that he also calls me Adis, instead of Gendis. Adis is my childhood name (used to be Adis Dos lol), what I know is that was Megawati's (Soekarno's daughter) nickname in her house, and she was my dad's client back then so he came up to call me with the same name.

But at the same time, I see that he is trying to involved with my world and letting me involved in his world as well. He started asking me when will I have a boyfriend (cliché, well Ayah, you should read my previous post, "Where is My Benji?" lol), what am I doing on campus, what I like to do in my spare time. I'm not blaming him like asking why don't you know because I literally realized that he lost about 5 years of his parenting life as my dad. 

Towards the middle of the night before Eid, he asked me to watch some videos then we discussed it. Actually the topic was totally random like about the mystical place in Majalengka that people who believed in Kedjawen liked to go there, the golden age of Islam, things that will come up before the apocalypse, until he closed our chit chat with a funny video to laugh at. I'm happy that he became more open to me, he wants to listen to his daughter's thought and opinion, which is good because he started to set aside his ego in front of me.

And on Eid, we went to his mom's house a.k.a my grandma which I finally met after this past six years didn't touchdown this rainy city. All the way to her house, Ayah was telling me his feelings as an old man, how he survived with his mind and soul this past year. I know it was hard to be him, but c'mon dude, let's just be happy and grateful because I can see a little of himself being so negative with life. I believe he still got his lovely spirit to spark out of his heart, he just don't want to admit that life's cruel and we as human should live it as it is. He complicates things, that is what never been changed from him since I know him at the first time. 

After his relief, he asked me to accompany him to the doctor for checking up his health. And I think that time was a way of God's help to tell Ayah the answer of all his sadness. His doctor is an Indian man (which I forgot his names, uh) and he wakes my dad up with his simple yet meaningful philosophy.

He said, "Despite of putting yourself with negative vibes that will make your health even worse and only causing stress on you, trying to cooling down yourself in your solitude. In Hindu, you meditate to heal yourself, empty your mind, don't even try to think anything. After that, you set yourself that you're not the body, you're not even the mind, so you're not a body and a mind. Then you will ask yourself who you are. And in that time, you'll realize that you are you and you got God inside you."

What he sump up from his statement was that we have to be grateful and sincere in everything that happened in our life, embrace our ups and downs with a gentle soul, also always remember that we should not hang on to human because we got God inside us. You should see my dad's face that time like what the doctor said to him was literally on point and get in straight to his soul. I can see his health problems are all caused by himself, especially his mind. He put himself into the stress river that will flow him to be desperate, oh please don't do it, Ayah.

You know, my father-daughter relationship with Ayah is an awkward one. Despite of that, I'm glad that I can conquer my selfishness to sincerely give my Dad a piece of me as his daughter after calming myself out for a month in the holy month, Ramadhan. 

Cheers,

Gendis.

Writing (Observing) My Surrounding: A Writing Journey

Hi!

I just realized that I love to write since I was a little girl. I can tell that I started writing when I was entering elementary school, I was also writing some short stories and poems lol and it was soooo bad you can't even imagine. Since the beginning, I love to read books and maybe that pulled me to write. 

A story about an orphan named Ema (2004)

Please, don't laugh at me lol

I actually have some better one like when I was in grade 4 or 5, but I forgot where I put it. I think there was on my old elementary book and left it on my Dad's home, too bad. I can still remember I've made poems about my feelings, my friends, my parents, also my Brazilian turtles: Tot, Tet, and Tit and my cute little chicks: Cika, Ciki, and Ciko! (Oh! How I miss having some pet!)

I used to write diaries back then (well, until now on) and it's kinda funny to read it again after all this time. I can see that I was so naive, kind of innocent, and an honest one. Well, you can say I'm the only child in the family and I'm not used to sharing what's going on my mind or what I feel to others. So, rather than keeping it myself, I try to write it down. It makes me feel relieved. 

Oh, dear little me, the past is the best experience you could ever ask.

Past few days, I throw back the time when I was at an Islamic boarding school or you can call it pesantren, Daarul Qur'an (DQ) in Bandung. I remembered how I begin to channeling my inner writer's soul again after I met Ibu Desti Fatin Fauziyyah, an Indonesian Language and Literature teacher in DQ. She was successfully encouraged me to write and having no fear to be wrong as long as I want to try to write it down. Not only fictions, but she told me to write articles too. She also introduced me to some majestic poets and writers in Indonesia like Sutardji Calzoum Bachri, Yudhistira ANM Massardi, WS Rendra, Acep Zamzam Noor, not forget to mention Sapardi Djoko Damono and Seno Gumira Ajidarma as well, while at that time, I only know that Dewi Lestari is the one that mesmerized me. And there are many more writers that I adored. 

Even in my notes, instead of wrote the school subjects, I prefer to write my favorite poems in it lol, but thank goodness I still could achieve good scores that time.

Here are two of many poems that I wrote in my notes:

Biarin by Yudhistira ANM Massardi

(Sorry for the misspelling of his name in my notes)

Kucing by Sutardji Calzoum Bachri

At that time, my adrenaline rushed very fast as anything comes to writing. Selamat Ulang Tahun, Ayah was my first (real) achievement in writing. I was so happy and feeling more excited to write! And as you can guess, I would not featured in that local newspaper if I didn't meet Ibu Desti. 

My short story got featured on Belia, Pikiran Rakyat Bandung (2011)

(Sorry for the bad resolution, I forgot where I put the real newspaper)

Until I had to say goodbye to DQ and also Ibu Desti because I moved to Tangerang. It was very emotional to me because I fear of losing the spirit of writing. While in Tangerang, I'm more into writing speeches for competitions. 

You are my savior on literature world Ibu Desti, thank you.

But I was wrong, my passion for writing was getting stronger day by day, especially when I was continuing my study at UMN and meeting my Creative Writing lecturer of the first semester, Ibu Wa Ode Wulan Ratna. She was also having a role in my writing journey. If it was not because of her tasks (that is a lot of it), I would not be as confident as now on to write. I adored her imagination and beautiful mind to create such a beautiful masterpiece. Ibu Wa Ode inspires me to let my mind and my imagination gone wild to finally pour it all down in words. 

As a finalist in Young Journalist Award: Writing (Short Story),

Commpress UMN 2015

I'm definitely just an amateur and still searching for my writing's character. All things I said above are just a little piece of my writing journey. There are a lot more things that make me want to write and a lot more people that inspire me to write. Writing is like having my own pen to make history and planning my own trip. It's such a joy that brings happiness to me. 

What about you? Do you like to write?

Cheers,

Gendis.

sol-i-tude

I see beauty in solitude.

I can seemingly cry over nothing without worrying anything.

I can enjoy being alone with my thoughts.

I can have a room to figure out who I am and why am I feel what I feel.

I can know how to solve problems on my own.

When I'm alone, I think I got a clearer mind, a much more beautiful soul. I can be free. I feel like I'm releasing my fear in the air and all I got in myself are positive vibes and energies. I tend to get a lot of inspirations while I'm in solitude. I feel so original that I can beat anything or anyone in this world. I feel worthed. 

Having a much deeper conversation within the one in me and hearing my heart. 

I can get the essence of being myself. 

I don't know if it is just me or is it because I'm the only child in the family or I'm having social anxiety.

I really don't know, but I love it.