Wonder how I was at that time. Two years. Or maybe three years. Looks like three years. I was sitting on the bed. Or maybe it was lying. I forgot to mention. But clearly the bedroom door open. There was a high-pitched voices. Did I cry when it? Maybe. Yeah, I cried. Crying for what? Hungry? Thirsty? Or am I just want to shed tears alone? But it seems I was crying because of the voices. High-pitched voices are scary. The voices that I could not understand the words. The voices of my parents.
“Plak”. I still remember it vividly. Slap sound. The voice of my father's hand touched her cheek. The sound is then continued to cry. Wait. Who's crying? I or my mother? I've stopped crying. She looked in tears.
Where am I? I'm in a quandary. I was in a long vehicle with double seats on each side. I was in my mother's lap. Apparently I had just woken from a long sleep. My mother smiled at me. He kissed my forehead.
I looked out the window. Seem so much an oncoming vehicle. Or like a terminal. I can not to explain. S U R A B A Y A. Such letters are written. But I still can not read.
The vehicle was stopped. The passengers began to exit through the door. Including mother and me. It's hot. That's what I felt for the first time when exiting the vehicle. Hot weather is sultry. Not like usual.
It appears a man who walked into my mother. He was calling her name. My mother replied. They both approached each other. It appears from the face of them a sense of excitement can be met. The man, the man who is not my father.
God knows how long I stayed in the room. The air is hot and sultry make me not feel at home. I think it was my body became red because of itching.
He was pretty good to me. He bought me a doll. He also frequently gave me sweets and chocolates. He often took me and my mom for a walk. I often find myself in a strange and new.
Sometimes like to think my father's face. Maybe I miss him but did not seem too. This good man to me. And my mother also was excited.
How long have I stayed in this room?
The faces of people I knew. Father, two men called mommy and daddy by my mother, a woman and a man whose face is similar to the mother.
They were all around her. They seemed to be talking at the same time. Their faces seem unfortunately, upset, and relieved. Their voices indicated resentment and regret. I realized that I had not lived in that room again.
Just a few years later I would know about the meaning of all this. Why did my mother to run and why my mother recovered. What has he done and what had he lived.
My mother looked sorry. My father also looks sorry.
My mother was crying among the people.
I was more than two years living in the home uncle.
When that name is still Ebtanas. I still do not know where SMP will continue. Whether to stay in Surabaya or return to Jakarta.
My parents say that it's up to me. I'm confused. I was told to set my own decisions. 11 years old boy was told to choose his own path.
The pain was again attacked. The pain is not half-hearted in the abdomen and breasts. Whether since when I was like to feel anxious and depressed for no apparent reason. Surabaya is hot air and hot makes sweat getting splattered. Whether since when sweating so bad.
Why am I now live here? My father actually is not too agree I lived with an uncle in Surabaya. I also was not too enthusiastic. This will take you, Mother? Mother, you who seem to really want me to stay with uncle.
Why? Did I bother mom? Is the mother did not want to take care of me? I be a parasite in your life?
The pain was more rampant. My head began to feel lightheaded and dizzy. Mother, where you were when my first period?
Slap it. By the same person. To the same person. Only in a place and a different atmosphere.
In public places. My father dragged her out of the car driven by a male coworker. The people saw it happen. My father calmed by a meatball vendor. My father seemed to explain the problem.
I see it from my father's car windows. I was upset, confused, sad, and ashamed. I do not know where to take sides. I'm just a teenager. I was in puberty.
Daddy, why do you have the heart to all the mothers? Mother, what have you done to your husband mad?
I do not know where to take sides.
A pair of shoes that seem alien at the door. There was my mother's voice from inside the house. There was also a foreign male voice.
I saw from the window two men were chatting casually while occasionally joking. I stepped into the house. They turn his head to me.
Whether what I felt at that time. What kind of emotions I felt at that time. Maybe I am a wild woman.. Or rather a wild teenager. Maybe it was the white-gray is a time of rebellion. The period in which the emotional and mental challenged.
Without thinking I took a vase of flowers on the table. I threw the vase to the man asshole in front of me. Right on his head. Vase was shattered. Apparently he became unconscious.
The face of my mother's panic. Her body who approached him. The face of my mother that I can not define.
After that I could not feel anything. I do not feel anything. Satisfaction, anger, sadness, or pleasure. I do not know. I feel empty. My soul is empty.
It's the umpteenth time the phone rang. I finally picked it up too. Old grandmother's voice sounded in my ears. I know the reason she called.
A few hours ago, my mom just got married. The woman was just divorced with my father two weeks ago. Now married again.
Half an hour ago my mother called. I snapped snapped at him. I call it by various names. I made her cry.
My grandmother's advice sounded hollow. I'm not paying any attention to one percent on talk that old woman.
I thought of my mother. I imagined her wedding. I imagine the kebaya dress. I bet she looks pretty.
Mother. I do not hate you but I can not find a reason to love you. Love like a mother should have a child.
Nine months. Is that enough? Is that the only reason?
Simple and simple wedding. That's what I want. That's what I felt.
Satisfaction was the greater because of a person. The man did not come. I did not invite him.
People were not happy with my future husband. The man insisted that I should not marry her. The man said that I would not be happy. man said that it was all on my behalf.
The refusal to satisfy me. as if you care more to satisfy me.
Do not you feel what I felt.
Do not let you through what I went through.
I do not believe that you said that.
Mother, since when I have to listen to you?!
Life is a rhythm of time that will never come back again. The years that I passed in this false confinement commitment felt empty and annoying.
I saw my wedding photos. I relive that moment. But no one can really my moment.
I admit it. The woman was right. From the beginning I did know that she was right. I just wanted to reciprocate. I just want to feel satisfied.
Turns out I just played myself. I play with my own life.
I rubbed the dust at my wedding photos. Exactly eighteen years ago. Eighteen years. What do I feel? I not feel anything. I do not feel the love of a husband.
Fruit heart. When I saw him I saw myself. Outside and inside. His body is me. His heart is me. Fruit is the reincarnation of my heart.
I do not know how long I do not cry for this.
The house is home to the most strategic in the world. Markets, roads, railway stations and airports. The house is situated in the middle of it all. Former Dutch colonial era homes that are not maintained. The skin color of the original white wall was peeling everywhere.
During the day.. Amid the noise of the world, I stood in front of a large wooden door of the house. I knocked on her door and say hello. An old woman opened it.
How to call? Karma? I do not believe a word. I just believe that everything we do will surely get a reply in kind. Have the same meaning as the word karma but still I do not believe a word.
The old woman smiled at me. I smiled back at him. I approached him and kissed his hand. How long I do not kiss the hand. How long have I not that hand smell. How long have I not met my mother.
In the end I understood. In the end I can understand. has their way of life. My mother has her own life path he chose with all sorts of considerations. have no right to feel angry or displeased with his choice. I'm just disappointed but now I can understand.
Karma……
The word came back to me.
The fruit will not fall far from the tree.
Like mother like daughter. Like mother like daughter.
How long have I not spoken to him?
Karma…
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