Untuk Membuatku Bahagia, Terima Kasih

Kau dan aku hidup dalam realita interdimensi.

kau dengan semangat menyongsong masa depan yang kau laju dengan optimis,

aku tak hentinya mengetuk pintu masa lalu di mana aku tanpa bosan menjenguk memoriku.

Aku dan kau hidup dalam intersubjektivitas.

Yang aku tahu, aku meneguk manis dan lembutnya susu sapi kualitas nomor satu dengan krim berkualitas.

Yang kau tahu, kau mengunyah empedu yang dimasak sama sekali tanpa racikan bumbu penyedap.

Realita ada padamu, dan ada padaku.

Barat adalah kanan, timur adalah kiri; mencintai adalah rasa, menyakiti adalah usaha.

Kita sepaham bahwa Yin harus bersama Yang, dan Oedipus tak mungkin bersama Jocasta.

Kebohongan ada padaku, dan ada padamu.

Kau mencoba untuk terlelap di saat matahari membakar hangus seluruh pori-pori kulitmu.

Aku mencoba terjaga manakala bulan meniupkan hembusan angin yang luar biasa buatku membeku.

Hujanmu, juga hujanku.

Aku juga menitikkan air buah hasil evaporasi realita itu; aku mengakui.

Kau juga memuarakan luapan arus realita itu; aku memaklumi.

0, 05 kita pernah signifikan, kita pernah. Percayalah.

Cumlaude kita pernah berprestasi, kita pernah. Ingatlah.

Bahagia, aku pernah. Samakah?

Lagi-lagi tentang kau.

Lagi-lagi aku dan kau.

Lagi-lagi realita tentang aku dan kau.

Coba tengok aku yang sekarang terbaring lemah di atas keputusasaanku.

Masih adakah niat baik yang terselubung dalam hidupmu yang menyenangkan sekarang?

Coba toleh ke mana aku yang sekarang melangkah tersaruk-saruk dengan gembolan memoriku menuju,

Masih adakah niat baik yang terselip dalam betapa kokohnya kau berdiri sekarang?

Coba pandang kuil tempat seluruh harapan dan kejahanamanku terkubur rapat dalam pemakaman itu,

Masih adakah niat baik yang tersembunyi dalam luka yang kusayatkan pada hatimu sekarang? 

Oh, Waktu.

Berapa banyak ulang tahun yang harus kulalui hingga kau memberiku hadiah kembali ke masa itu? 

Oh, Memori.

Berapa lama harus kuhadiri perkuliahanmu hingga aku lulus dan mendapatkan harapanku jadi nyata?

Oh, Dimensi.

Berapa besar harga yang harus kubayar hingga kau sampai hati memberiku kunci menuju pikirannya?

Mungkin itulah percakapan yang hendak Jay Gatsby inisiasi dengan Daisy Buchanan.

Mungkin itulah pesan yang dituliskan dalam surat Friar Lawrence untuk Romeo.

Mungkin itulah emosi yang dirasakan Irene Adler ketika Sherlock Holmes hilang di air terjun Reichenbach.

Yang lalu biarlah berlalu, kata mereka.

Sayangnya, mereka lupa bahwa yang lalu hanyalah waktu, bukan memori, bukan kenangan, bukan perasaan.

Kau harus tetap menjadi kau.

Aku akan tetap menjadi aku.

Akhirnya, 'kau' akan tetap menjadi bukti bahwa aku pernah merasa bahagia.

Terima kasih. 

"Home Is a Place You Grow Up Wanting to Leave, and a Place You Grow Old Wanting to Get Back to."

This was actually an assignment I submitted for Writing for Professional Context in the second semester of my study. I intend to post it for I thought it really teaches us something. What do you think?

“Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and a place you grow old wanting to get back to.” (John ES.d)

                The quotation above is somehow heartbreaking. I quoted this one from Mr. John whose blog I had visited before. Once I noticed this quotation I didn’t even think to search longer for another quotation afterward. I kept on wondering, ‘how could he be so this truthful?’

                Well, quotation has to be a brief-sufficient sentence that represents our condition—which we never realize that it is like that. I think the quotation above has already required the nature of quotation. We can see from the very first beginning the theme John has brought up here is the idea of home. Relations are then popping up inside our mind; family, parents, children and other mutual relations. Mr. John was apparently trying to declare two conditions about how home is very vulnerable to be expressed. The following paragraph will show you how I paraphrase his quotations according to my understanding:

The first condition is expressing how people crave to leave their hometown. The apparent situation people deal with their ghetto is sometimes the opposite with their ideal city. Thus in their childhood, people often insist to find their ideal occupancy elsewhere. It is irrevocable that whenever they feel older, and they have lived outside their hometown, they will feel regret for themselves not to have home as comfy as they used to have back then. They will compare both places and finally give the upperhand to their hometown, as it is considered the best by the people themselves.

The second condition explains how home represents family. As we know, teenagers—who are growing under parents’ supervision at home—feel ignored and dwelled as they demand for liberation. One thing they may decide to do is leaving home. Their rebellion toward tight boundary of a family will bring them away from their home and settle down in a place they consider ‘cool’. As they have grown up time after time, they will notice how they are tortured to be away from their family, to be apart from their home. They will have a belated regret leaving home once they miss the prestige of family’s touch, the affection parents used to give, the good surrounding from a lively neighborhood. They will find themselves missing to be at home at their olden time.

I can sum up that this quotation ends up with the heart-melting notification not to leave home due to the guilty pressure we may have afterward. Home maybe only a mattered living place, but it gives more than just about memories, it makes our life alive.

A Scientific Literary Self-Blabbering: Karena Manusia Memiliki Perasaan

Cantik, tapi miskin.

Kaya, tapi jelek.

Pinter, tapi sombong.

Ramah, tapi bodoh.

Tidakkah kata ‘tapi’ di beberapa kumpulan frase kata sifat di atas dimaknai begitu kuat dan berpengaruh dalam pemahaman membaca Anda?

Tentu, karena mereka menunjukkan penolakan. Ketidakcukupan. Penentangan.

Saya rasa Anda setuju bahwa mereka tidak mungkin berdiri tegap di antara dua kata sifat yang bertentangan tersebut manakala tidak ditemukan adanya niat untuk membandingkan.

Menurut taksonomi Bloom, penentangan kritis akan muncul dalam ranah kognisi akhir yang mewajibkan insan baik untuk menganalisis maupun untuk mensintesis suatu fenomena.

Bloom benar—menurut saya.

Sudah lazim adanya, ketika seorang manusia harus menggunakan kompetensi berpikirnya untuk memberikan kritik terhadap suatu fenomena yang dianggap bias dan korban pergerakan yang stagnan dalam nilainya. Perbandingan dibutuhkan untuk mencari masalah, pembenaran, atau bahkan kebenaran. Namun sayangnya, Bloom tidak mengikutsertakan kemungkinan manusia untuk mengaplikasikan kemampuannya tersebut dalam membuat komparasi yang mengandung perasaan, seperti manusia itu sendiri.

Dibandingkan adalah sebuah sistematika yang mana akan selalu ada yang dinilai lebih baik dan lebih tidak baik. Dinilai lebih tidak baik merupakan suatu kesimpulan yang ditarik dari keputusan untuk mencari pembenaran. Kebenaran tidak selalu mudah, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Dampak dibandingi dengan orang lain dapat merujuk pada suatu situasi yang teramat menyakitkan. Kesakitan itu berbuah dari kebenaran bahwa yang tidak lebih baik itu memang tidak lebih baik. Pembenaran dari kebenaran sering tidak benar untuk dikemukakan, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Menjadi lebih baik tentu akan menciptakan sensasi lega dan sanjung, karena adanya kesempatan untuk membuktikan/dibuktikan kemenangan/menang. Mereka yang dinyatakan lebih baik tentu akan mengantongi predikat kebenaran sebagai sesuatu yang berguna untuk dipajang, disemat, dipamerkan. Namun, menggunakan kebenaran itu tidak semudah menjahit kancing pada baju, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Perkara mengaplikasikan bahasa dalam makna yang disembunyikan memang telah terurai dalam  social theory of semiotic, yang di dalamnya terkandung paparan pendapat Halliday (dan pakar bahasa lainnya—khususnya yang berkaitan dengan Systemic Functional Linguistics). Bersama dengan temuan Halliday, rantai penggunaan bahasa terikat kuat dengan usaha Chocure yang menguak betapa bahasa adalah bagian dari pembentukan ideologi manusia; terlebih dalam ranah interpersonal metafunction. Halliday secara empiris memperkuat pengetahuan tentang bahasa dengan aplikasi yang membenarkan adanya kesengajaan dalam memanipulasi bahasa—the use of methapore. Intensi A akan disimbolkan dalam pemilihan kata, menjadi frase, membentuk klausa dan berakhir dalam kalimat yang merujuk bahasa B. Interlocutors yang mendapat pesan tetap akan mengerti bahwa itu adalah A—menunjukkan betapa bahasa dapat menjadi sangat manipulatif. Menemukan benang merah dengan masalah membandingkan kualitas manusia, metafora akan sangat membantu dalam menyembunyikan determinasi untuk memberitahukan siapa yang tidak lebih baik. Akan tetapi, Halliday tidak mampu menjamin bahwa manusia tak akan menangkap isu implisit dalam metafora, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Membandingkan siapa yang lebih baik juga dapat dijumpai dalam penghelatan kompetisi; selalu ada yang kalah, ada yang menjadi runner-up, ada yang menjadi champion. Predikat tersebut disematkan kepada mereka untuk memberikan golongan bagi siapa yang dianggap paling baik, lebih baik, kurang baik dan paling tidak baik. Klasifikasi golongan tersebut diikutsertakan dengan pemberian apresiasi berupa hadiah yang juga dengan sengaja mensinyalir tingkat kemampuan peserta. Saya sangat percaya bahwa reward akan sangat memberikan dampak yang influential dalam memperhalus kebenaran yang ada; juara 2 tetap dapat hadiah (yang lebih tidak baik dari juara 1), dan yang tidak juara tetap mendapatkan sertifikat apresiasi. Hal ini sejalan dengan teori yang dikemukakan H. Douglas Brown—pakar applied linguistics of English teaching—yang menuturkan adanya domain kognitif dalam approach to teaching, termasuk anticipation of reward di dalamnya. Pemberian hadiah terkadang diperlukan bagi mereka yang sudah mencoba, bagi mereka yang masih berusaha, bagi mereka yang belum benar (terlepas dari probabilitas bahwa pemberian hadiah akan meninggalkan ketergantungan yang tidak baik bagi perkembangan automaticity dalam belajar). Namun, Brown tidak bisa mengelak bahwa mereka yang mendapatkan nominasi runner-up, juara 3, peserta dan yang lainnya (walaupun sudah diberikan hadiah) tetap dapat merasakan keterpurukan, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Erat hubungannya bahasa dan pendekatan yang digunakan dalam memperhalus pembenaran siapa yang lebih baik dengan kultur yang menjadi atmosfir latar belakang fenomena tersebut. Disebutkan oleh D.R Levine—salah satu penulis buku yang sangat baik bertitel Beyond Language—bahwa opini dapat ditunjukan dalam directness dan indirectness. Umumnya, menjadi direct speaker adalah kultur yang mengandung keinginan yang mendominasi keikutsertaan si pembicara atau interactant—kalau ini, jelas sudah menujukkan apresiasi untuk menjadi jujur dan terbuka (straightforward), lain halnya dengan menjadi indirect speaker. Pembicara umumnya mengkonsiderasi dengan seksama perasaan interactant interactant yang diberikan opini, karena adanya kepercayaan pada high considerateness. Opini yang disampaikan biasanya tidak mengandung kebenaran yang dapat menyinggung—because honesty sometimes cannot be the best policy. Dalam menyuarakan kebenaran yang tersembunyi melalui indirect opinion, mereka yang dinominasikan tidak lebih baik dari yang lain mungkin akan selamat dari keterpurukan, namun implikasi dari digunakannya indirectness tersebut membuat kontrol emosi seolah menjadi bom waktu—yang siap meledak ketika kebenaran yang asli terkuak ke permukaan. Deena Levine tidak dapat menebar benih solusi dari dampak ini, yang bisa membuat manusia berbohong, berkorban, bertengkar dan saling membenci pada akhirnya—karena manusia memiliki perasaan.

Realita dari apa yang diusahakan jenius di atas dijahit rapi dengan konklusi membingungkan; perasaan manusia tidak dapat dikontrol. Mereka bisa begitu dimanipulasi, namun tidak perasaan. Sangat disayngkan bahwa perasaan tidak dapat diklasifikasi kepada ranah kognisi taksonomi Bloom, tidak pula kepada pemaparan teori interperonal metafunction Halliday. Perasaan ‘ditipu dengan baik-baik’ tidak bisa menjamin 100% bahwa mereka dapat sukses terlepas dari keterpurukan, tidak semudah dengan diberikan hadiah seperti apa yang dinarasikan oleh teori anticipation of reward buah karya Brown, tidak pula seaman apa yang dijanjikan oleh iindirectness dalam pendapat Deena Levine. Manusia memiliki barrier yang tidak terjangkau oleh pembenaran teori—mereka off-limits. Satu-satunya yang dapat menjauhkan mereka dari keterpurukan adalah dua hal; karakter natural yang di-setting Tuhan dan usaha manusia itu sendiri. Saya rasa benar adanya bahwa beberapa manusia dapat menerima ‘menjadi tidak lebih baik dari orang lain’ dengan lensa positif; mereka dapat terus berusaha dan memperbaiki kesalahan. Sayangnya, sisi kompetitif tersebut tidak selalu Tuhan infus kepada seluruh insan manusia. Usaha yang mereka kerahkan tidak menjamin mereka akan menjauhi keterpurukan—karena ketika sedang menjauhinya, mereka mungkin akan merasa terpuruk. Tidak mudah memang menjadi seorang manusia, karena manusia memiliki perasaan.      

Brown, H. Douglas. 2001. Teaching by Principles. San Fransisco: Longman Inc.

Emilia, Emi. 2005. Teaching writing; developing Critical Learners. Bandung: Rizqi Press.

Levine, D. R. and Adelman, M. B. 1993. Beyond Language, 2nd Edition. Prentice Hall, Inc: USA.

The Aspects of Learning; Students, Teachers and Motivations

Good morning! Hope you all are not mourning.
I was awake with such a great mood so that I would like to share what my fellow pre-service teachers (Iqbal, Juli, Tenat, and Jebe) and I have thought of becoming a teacher. Hope it can enlighten whoever reading this.

The Aspects of Learning; Students, Teachers and Motivations

In today’s Belajar Pembelajaran Bahasa Inggris (Teaching Strategy) lecture, we discussed more topics related to teaching. We were adjusted by guiding questions which elicited our knowledge about what aspects of teaching we must be concerned with. Below are the summary of our discussion.

All of the members have jumped to a conclusion that knowing the students is what is prior to conduct of the teaching itself. Teaching requires the teachers to identify the characteristics of their target students. Teaching is synonymous with other profession—it has to consider the presence of the clients; what their needs are (considering their goals of learning), what proper things to be served to them (considering their age), and what appropriate service we can give to them (considering their preferable likes). Teaching employs these aspects in order to enhance the possibility to reach the goal of every learning activity; to help the students succeed in mastering the lessons. All of the members strongly believe that teaching must function every single importance the students are supposed to be acquianted, including both the knowledge and their character-building. Nonetheless, this is found problematic due to the fact that students vary in terms of suitable process of learning. Some students might learn more successfully when they are given more exposures on verbal communication, some might get hindered for they are shy. Thus, it is believed that the solvency of this obstacle is only attainable if the teachers know their students’ characteristics.

The aspects that must be covered to be known by teachers are underlying their students’ intents of learning. We believe all things that matter must be specifically identified in particular since teachers must be fair. The age of the students is perceived as essential factor to be taken into account because when it is known, teachers can adapt their learning into most effective one which is in line with the theory of language acquisition. One of the examples supporting our stance is in the case when the teachers know that their students are young learners. Teachers can justify the learning of infants by trying to accomodate appropriate approaches to young learners’ language learning (to reflect it to Piaget, Vygotsky or Brown’s theory). This way, teachers can successfully manage the classroom by scaffolding the steps which practicality and effectiveness have already been certified by experts.

Not only does age matter in finding out students’ whereabout, but their social background is also important to be reckoned. A good teacher must be familiar with what the students have obtained and what things which are relevant to them. The relevance has to meet the objectives of the learning (including its development of materials and techniques) because this is how teachers can contextualize the elements of the learning with the students’ prior knowledge.

We all have the same agreement on what Griffith has said in his statement saying motivation is important in students’ learning. Motivation is on which the students depend. The stronger their motivation is, the more successful the efforts they can put on achieving the objectives of the learning. Motivation is essential in making independent learning. It is believed that when the students have prominant motivation, the feasibility of succession of the learning will also be positively higher, as they will be likely to learn by themselves. Experential learning will be met at the end of the lesson in which the students will learn based on their own motivation.

A Highly Recommended Underdog Science Fiction: Paris, at Night by Sung J. Woo

Below is a heartbreaking science fiction which theme is centered on the nuance of sorrow, hopelessness and sacrifice, ordered in a 10 subsumed set of chapters. Neither I know nor remember where I got this from, but I coincidentally bumped into this raw narrated story pasted in one of a thousand files in my archives. I used this story as my source of construing genre in literature as I attended Foundation of Literature. I guarantee you won't spend your time gaining nothing shall you read this!

Paris, at Night

Sung J. Woo

Today was rice day, fifty-pound sacks of white rice in trucks bearing an elephant logo. The same happy elephant appeared on the bags, its head raised to the sky, the trunk curved like an S.

     "Elephant," Todd said.

     He said it because a laborer was staring at it intently. Which meant he wasn't working.

     "That's right," the man said. "I couldn't remember the word."

     He was the only other human at the loading dock this morning. The man didn't have a name, just a number, like the rest of the robots.

     "Let's get back to it, 8831, okay?"

     "Yessir," the man said.

     That could be me, Todd thought as he watched him work side by side with his silent mechanical counterparts, lifting, carrying, and dropping bags of rice from the back of the truck to the warehouse. A bad car accident, a bad fall from a ladder, and that could be me.

     Or a bad memrip.

 

AT LUNCH, Todd thought of things he could sell. Everything he owned of any value, he could touch: his grandfather's watch, his grandmother's wedding ring, a gold necklace belonging to some forgotten relative. His car, too, but that was out of the question as he needed it to work.

     He got up from his chair and scanned the floor below, the robots still working away, a sea of metallic shoulders rising and falling in unison, strangely beautiful in a way. Over by the forklift sat 8831, his eyes as blank as the piece of bread he was eating.

     Two weeks from today was Todd's thirtieth wedding anniversary, and even if he were to pawn the watch, the ring, and the necklace, he knew he wouldn't even come close to having enough for Paris. That's where Sue had wanted to go for as long as he could remember. They didn't have the money to honeymoon there, but that was okay because back then, there had been plenty of time. They were young, both healthy and working, so they would save a little here and there and in a couple of years, they would be walking up to the Eiffel Tower at night arm in arm, find themselves underneath the arch and look up at the beacon that shined on this city of lights.

<  2  >

     But then came two sons and three recessions and a second mortgage. A hysterectomy for her, a double bypass for him, and now here he was, nine years short of retirement, supervising a team of robots and a retarded man, thinking about folks who could sell things they couldn't touch, like stocks and bonds and whatever else he couldn't even fathom, people with money who would pay to experience another's most cherished moments.

     Silly. That would be Sue's word for it if this were a story she'd overheard. For a trip, a goddamn trip, what a silly thing to do.

     But it was more than a trip. It was their life together. There was life and there was death, and it seemed to Todd that if he waited any longer, there wouldn't be a difference between the two.

     He opened the filing cabinet and rifled through the folders. In all the years he'd been here, only a handful of human workers had come and gone. All of them were handicapped in some way; they came through the city welfare program, and 8831 was no exception.

     Name: Lopez, Manny

     Age: 46

     Tax Status: Married

     Disability: Neural Trauma

 

Neural Trauma. It was worth a shot.

     Manny's wife picked up on the second ring. Todd told her who he was, and after he assured her that her husband was not hurt, he was fine, he was a great worker, he asked her what he wanted to know. She listened without interrupting him, then there was a lengthy silence.

     "Why?" she asked.

     "Does it matter?"

     "I can report you."

     "I know."

     More silence.

     "He did it because he loved me. Loved," she said, hardening. "Not loves."

<  3  >

     "I heard you."

     Then she hung up on him, and for the rest of the day, Todd replayed the conversation in his mind. Should he have lied to her, made up some story about a sick mother, a dying child? He wasn't good at talking, especially on the phone. People thought he was unfriendly, hostile. A woman once told him his voice sounded like broken stones rattling in a cage.

     The horn blared at five, time for the two humans to go home and the robots to be reconditioned and put in standby.

     Todd was walking out to his car when Manny touched his shoulder.

     "Boss," he said, sounding uncertain. He held out his phone. "My wife, she wants to talk to you?"

 

THE HOUSE was quiet when he returned, and it seemed to Todd that he wanted to keep it that way. Take small, measured steps, like a thief. He carefully pulled the door shut, holding onto the doorknob and turning it by hand until it locked.

     Above, the floorboards creaked, Sue's footsteps as she walked from their bedroom to the bathroom. Then a flush, and the trill of water climbing up to refill the toilet tank. And now the muffled voice of the late-show host on TV, the encouraging laughter of the studio audience, the one-two punch repeating until they cut to commercial.

     Todd sat at the dining table and peeked inside the microdome, at the plate Sue had made for him. Pork chops, a bunch of broccoli spears, a hill of mashed potatoes with a well of gravy. He touched the REHEAT button and watched his plate spin slowly, the inside of the dome steaming up.

     One thing for sure, my clients never tire of wedding proposals.

     The man Todd had met after work was funny, friendly, utterly normal. It didn't seem possible that they were talking about something that could land both of them a minimum of two years in prison.

<  4  >

     I'm not going to lie to you, Todd. There's a risk to this. People do get hurt, like your friend Manny. But keep in mind that Manny didn't follow our simple yet extremely important directions. We told him over and over again that he wasn't to consume any alcoholic beverages twenty-four hours before the procedure. We even hired a Portuguese translator to make sure he understood what was required of him. See, this is why Mrs. Lopez still led you to us, because she knows we do good work. Her cousin's a regular sourcer, comes in once a month, has been for years. We don't mess up, Todd. It's the sourcers who mess up. And I can see we'll have a smooth ride, because you're a smart guy.

     Though he introduced himself as Richard Gibbons, he also immediately admitted that it was an alias.

     In my opinion, Todd? In my opinion, I think it's something the government should regulate. Because let's face it, everybody's doing it. But think how long it took for marijuana to become legalized. Hell, it's still not legal in Alabama.

     Todd opened the microdome and took out the plate. The pork had gotten a little tougher, but it still tasted wonderful, his wife's signature flavors of mint and garlic in every bite.

     The way I see it, you're getting peak value for something that is going to eventually disappear. I'm not just talking about Alzheimer's. Once you go past sixty, memories fade at an alarming clip. It's what happens because the brain can only retain so much. Like all of our other organs, it's about usage. When was the last time you thought about your honeymoon? Honestly? The less you use, the more you lose. It's the foundation of how our bodies work. The health benefits of memripping, they're not some urban legend. You're cleaning house. You're taking out the garbage and putting in out on the curb, but here's the difference: you're getting paid for that trash.

     It was a painless, quick procedure. All you had to do was remember what you wanted to have ripped while the machine was plugged into you. The surgery was completely automated and technologically sound.

<  5  >

     Memory is free. Not for our clients, of course, haha! But for you, Todd. Think of all the new memories you'll create with the money you'll have. Our government wants to equate our enterprise to organ trafficking, but nothing could be further from the truth. You grow memory like a crop, and when you want to, you harvest it. Are there people picketing against farmers every time they cut down a bushel of corn? Of course not. It's natural. It's life.

     "Todd?"

     Sue met him at the sink. She reached for the dish towel hanging off the hook, but Todd angled his body to block her.

     "It's just one dish," he said. "You can let it dry."

     "You had a long day."

     Todd wiped his hands on the towel and turned around to face her. Even though she looked prettier with her makeup on, he also liked seeing his wife like this, right before they went to bed, because only he saw her like this. Nobody else in the world knew this Sue, only him.

     Though it was possible that wouldn't be true after the memrip. But was that a bad thing? Was it so terrible to share his love for his wife with someone else?

     Todd waited to turn off the kitchen lights, for Sue to switch on the lamp at the landing of the staircase. It was their unspoken routine to retire to their bedroom. There were many other small routines like that one, and now, as he climbed the stairs with her, Todd thought how wonderful it was to know another person so well, that this was comfort, that this was home.

 

TRIANGULAR BOXES. That was the shipment that waited for him when he arrived at work the following morning. There were blue ones and red ones and yellow ones and green ones, and each contained a like-colored chair from a Korean designer. Todd couldn't see how a box like that could hold a comfortable chair, so he opened one up and sat in it.

<  6  >

     "Jesus Christ," he said.

     Four auto-adjusting palm-shaped prongs supported him in ways that seemed impossible: his lower back, his love handles, and his neck. If he had his way, he would sit here forever. But he couldn't, as the whistle blew and the robots came to life.

     He thought the oddly-shaped boxes might pose a challenge for them, but they didn't miss a step. The robots saw the way the boxes were stacked inside the truck, right side up and upside down, staggered to maximize space, and they replicated the exact pattern in the warehouse.

     Manny worked in perfect tandem with his mechanized brothers as the morning turned into afternoon. Like yesterday, he went back to the forklift to eat his lunch, and Todd wondered if perhaps he used to run one of those. He considered asking him but changed his mind. If Manny did so before, he certainly didn't now, so what was there to talk about?

     In his office, Todd dug into the brown paper bag of his own lunch and thought that today was very much like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. But tomorrow would be different because tonight would be different. If the memrip went according to plan – and he had no reason to believe it wouldn't, because he hadn't had a beer in the last twenty-four hours, hadn't washed his hair this morning, followed everything Gibbons had told him – tomorrow he would call up that travel agent who advertised in the paper and tell her to book the platinum romantic getaway to Paris for two.

     For a trip, a goddamn trip, what a silly thing to do.

     He could almost hear her say it. But she would be telling him as they were flying over the Atlantic in first-class seats. They'd never sat in those large leather chairs, only walked past them on their way to the narrow discomforts of coach.

     Sue had made him the perfect egg salad sandwich, just enough mayo to keep the egg bits and chopped slivers of celery together. As he ate, he took out his flexphoto to watch the twelve-picture slideshow from Uncle Patrick's wedding. Gibbons had given him the paper-thin disposable device, which was programmed to turn on just once. According to Gibbons, the worst thing a sourcer could do was overprepare, try to remember too much and turn an emotional memory into an intellectual exercise.

<  7  >

     My client has been waiting seven years for this, Todd.

     Each picture only stayed on for five seconds, but it seemed much longer than that when the first one came up. How was it possible that they were both so thin, so young? Sue was in a blue sleeveless dress. She was in attendance because she was a friend of Uncle Patrick's sister. She was nineteen years old, and Todd was twenty. In the picture, they were both in the frame, sitting down at adjacent tables as dinner was being served. They had yet to meet, and somehow that made the moment even more special.

     Love at first sight. People say it, but they rarely mean it. My client has gone through sixteen memrips and still has yet to find a real one. That's why he's willing to pay big.

     He and Sue dancing, his left hand clasping her right hand, his right arm around her waist, their youthful faces glowing like a pair of full moons.

     I know the risk is more on your side, but you have to understand, the destinator also faces dangers. Emotional dangers. The disappointment can be so crushing that they often need to seek psychological and spiritual guidance. This client who'll be installing your memrip, he's got one therapist and two holistic advisors on permanent payroll. So needless to say, he's counting on you.

     Their first kiss, and the angle showed Sue's surprise and delight. She was slightly drunk and so was he, but Todd remembered that moment more than any other, the warmth and wetness of her lips, the way they parted as the kiss transformed into a smile.

     I know you'll do your best. That's all we ask.

     The flexphoto blinked off, and lunch was over.

 

"READY?" Gibbons asked.

     They were in a dentist's office, and from the looks of it, not a very successful dentist. There was a leak in the corner of the ceiling, turning half of the tile brown, and the muzak that flowed out of the speakers was at times staticky.

<  8  >

     Todd sat in the chair, his head tipped back and immobilized inside an octagonal metal cage. He couldn't see the machine anymore, but he knew it was there, a black cylinder with a silver arm. At the end of the arm was a clear tube too thin for the naked eye to see, which would enter through his left ear, travel through the auditory nerve, and make its way to his brain.

     "You're not gonna feel a thing."

     "Okay," Todd said, and soon there was a whirring in his left ear.

     Indeed, he felt nothing as the tube burrowed inside. The pills Gibbons had given him were working, too, making his eyes a little dry but calming him.

     "And we're in," Gibbons said.

     Gibbons slid a flexphoto into a slot in front of the cage, filling Todd's view with blackness. Then the slideshow started again, and this time Todd held nothing back. Uncle Patrick's wedding, thirty-two years ago, meeting his future wife for the first time. Realizing he'll never again remember this moment filled him with regret, and for a second he felt an intense desire to scream, that he didn't want to do this, that his memory was his and no one else's, but then the feeling passed.

     Just buyer's remorse, Todd thought, and went back to the task at hand, which was to remember.

     At some point, Gibbons said, "The buffer's getting full, so it's going to scrape."

     Scrape.

     Todd didn't think there were words that could describe it. Clean? Was that what it was, that he felt clean? But it wasn't like washing his hands or taking a shower. Suddenly there was a lightness in him, fresh, impossible pockets of air inside his mind. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation because it wasn't a sensation at all. That was it: whatever this was, it was the antithesis of something, but it wasn't exactly nothing, because the concept of nothingness existed in relation to a somethingness before it. What the scrape did was more than just remove his personal history; it removed the concept of history itself.

<  9  >

     This should hurt, Todd thought. Something like this should be painful.

     The next photo came into his vision, he and Sue at the bar, waiting for their drinks, but what had he been thinking about just before?

     "Don't back up, just see forward, Todd," Gibbons said. "Let it go."

     There were two more scrapings, and then they were done. The whirring in his ear stopped, and Gibbons unlatched the harness around his head. Todd rotated his neck left and right and back again, stiff from two hours of stillness.

     On the top of the memrip machine was a round clear disc, a petri dish, with just a smidge of gray matter.

 

PARIS WAS stubborn. While other cities around the world were busy upgrading concrete with organic alloys and replacing old street lamps with compact photon bulbs, this city looked no different than the way it did a hundred years ago. The stone bricks, the gargoyles, the wrought-iron fences, they looked like they'd always been here.

     "Are you sure we're going the right way?" Sue asked.

     Paris, at night. It was what she had always wanted, wasn't it?

     Wasn't it?

     These questions, these doubts. If only he could make them disappear.

     "I think so," Todd said, walking past signs he couldn't read.

     For a while things were fine, and then they weren't. Gibbons found a neurologist who was willing to examine Todd without notifying the authorities. Just bad luck, the doctor had said. You can never tell how these things will go. That's why it's not legal.

     Memory is like a million little houses. Taking one out is like lifting a house from a community. Not a big deal, because you can just build another in its place. The community remains unaffected.

     But some memories are like skyscrapers. If you're careful, you might be able to take away the first floor of a tall building and leave it standing, but never for long. Sooner than later, walls start to crack. Ceilings leak. It's just a matter of time until the structure groans and loses integrity.

<  10  >

     You still have lots of houses, though, Todd. A strong, stable community. That's why you're capable of doing everything else, like your job, like walking and eating and enjoying a movie. But your wife will remain problematic. Even new memories you form with her, they're going to reference this skyscraper because the damage was so extensive.

     I'm so sorry.

     Just one more street, Todd thought. When he glanced at Sue, he saw the way she was favoring her left leg. Why was that?

     He didn't know.

     If only they could find their way. How could they be lost, trying to find the tallest structure in the city? It was stupid. It was infuriating.

     "Oh my," Sue said, pointing.

     And there it was, finally, having hidden behind a row of buildings on this side street. There was no buildup to their encounter: the tower was not there, not there, and then…just there, in its entirety, tall and strong and sharp.

     And still far away. It would take another fifteen minutes for them to reach the Eiffel Tower, where Todd would stand with the woman he was supposed to love underneath the arch, holding her hand, and listen to the wind whipping through the girders.

Perahu Kertas dan Aku

Menjauh, menjauh, melambung

Di atas gelombang arus air

Perahu kertas itu menjauh

Luput dari pandangan

Melambung, melambung, menjauh

Melaju menuju hilirnya arus kan membawa

Perahu kertas itu melambung

Luput dari pengelihatan

Air akan terus bergerak

Tak mampu dihentikan

Arus akan terus mengalir

Tak mampu dikendalikan

Perahu kertas hanya mampu menyerah

Perahu kertas hanya mampu pasrah

Perahu kertas takkan mampu dikejar

Perahu kertas menghilang ketika aku tersadar

Jauh, sudah jauh

Aku tak mampu mendekat

Hilang, hilang sudah

Aku tak mampu berpendapat

Memang tak mudah mengikuti apa yang air mau

Ia terlalu kejam; tak mendengarkan alasanku untuk berhenti

Memang tak sulit jika ku berlalu

Namun menghujam; aku tak bisa terus berlari

Perahu kertas,

Tak akan pernah kutahu apa yang menjadi tepian

Tempat kau akan berlabuh

Selamat tinggal, perahu kertas

Perpisahan bukanlah yang kumaksud

Namun arus terus berlanjut

Sampai jumpa, perahu kertas

Kau tetap yang terbaik

Aku tahu kau kuat, Kau bisa menyesuaikan diri

Selamat jalan, perahu kertas

Lautan menyambutmu, dan aku tahu mereka senang

Kau selalu menjadi apa yang mereka tunggu, termasuk aku

Perahu kertas,

Sosokmu tak akan pernah bisa terlupa

Kau selalu dekat di hatiku

Kau selalu jelas di pikiranku

Kau selalu tersebut dalam doaku

Kau selalu hadir dalam lamunanku

Kau selalu muncul dalam pandanganku

Kau selalu bermain dalam drama mimpiku

Kau selalu menjadi topik monologku

Kau selalu menjadi tuhan dalam kesendirianku

Kau selalu menjadi perahu kertasku

Maaf aku tak mampu mengantarmu hingga pelabuhan terakhir

Aku tahu kau tak akan bahagia bila aku menurut

Maka aku mandiri

Perjalanan masih panjang, perahu kertas

Di manakah nanti kita akan bertemu?

Jangan kau lupakan aku

Semudah aku melepaskanmu

Jangan kau salah memberi salahku

Segalanya terlanjur bermuara

Aku ingin membuatnya indah

Apa daya aku terpuruk

Mampukah aku memaksa?

Selalu menyenangkan bersamamu

Namun aku mengerti

Waktu dan air tak pernah bersahabat

Melajulah

Kau selalu melakukan segalanya baik

Hati-hati, perahu kertas

Jaga dirimu baik-baik

Aku akan selalu merindukanmu

Fading away, it is; prepare myself to lose. This is not what I want but this is what I have to admit. It is about to disappear, too precious to let go yet too painful to keep. O, you, pull up your anchor,

As I did mine.

A Reconstructed Story: Happily Ever After

It will not suffice it to be fair if I only post a single academic post which is more to educational English. Now, please enjoy my literary writing which was submitted as one of assignments in Exploring Prose subject (the other lovable class I have attended). The assignment required me to reconstruct a semi-poetic prose to become completely new in terms of its face validity (the contents were to be kept the same). Here is what it was, enjoy!

Happily Ever After

A Reconstructed Story adapted from ‘Girl’ written by Jamaica Kincaid

It was a story about a girl who managed to live her life happily ever after.  She wanted to live her life like anyone else, pursuing happiness and fulfilling it with everything she delighted. She wanted to cherish every moment with pleasure.

In the afternoon, she hurrily ran to her house after meeting the other girls she knew at school. She knew it would be a problem if she came back late. She took a deep breath before she entered her house.

“Where have you been?  I was in pain waiting for you to come home! And—oh—look at you, sweating like a dirty labor—let alone the umbrella you forgot to bring to school. The sun must have burned your skin into ash. Now go change and soak your worn-out clothes.”

Not even a word came out from the girl’s mouth. She could have defended herself, but she knew it would be useless. She just helplessly obeyed what her mother yelled at her.

Coming back in silence, the girl was aware that it was already the time for her and her mother to have a dinner. She prepared for it and looked forward to her mother’s coming down the staircase—slightly hoping she would not bring her anger to the table this time.

Her mother came with a latent face. The girl knew she was beautiful—they looked alike. Her mother would become what she would become in future time. Only this way, the girl could know her mother was kindhearted. They sat without sounds and had a thought concerning about each other at the same time. The mother glanced around her daughter—examining if she was physically and mentally fine.

“Don’t you dare doing the same mistake again.” The mother said as her fed herself with a spoon of Ravioli. She frowned. “This tastes bad. You must not serve food like this if a guest is having dinner with you—especially a man.”

“Sorry.”

“And that is not how you behave when serving a man. Apology must be uttered properly. This is as to why I don’t permit you to play with Tessie; she is a bad girl. She sings Benna at school and dresses like a slut I have always warned you against becoming.”

“But she is kind to me, and I never sing Benna at school, mom.”

“How is she kind if she is now pregnant? Not to mention she is not yet bounded in marriage.  If she were you, I would have aborted anything you had in your womb.”

Her Mother realized what she had just said was beyond rough. She could not help herself but say it because it  was all for the sake of her daughter. She was too afraid her little, innocent girl would end up being troubled at this time in which the world had slowly befriended the insanity. She would not survive if her daughter encountered the wrongs.

The girl started to squeeze her fingers in her fist and fully put her effort on not shading tears that were about to fall. She had a dispute with herself. She tried hard to acknowledge this talk as her mother’s being thoughtful—however the hatred and dissapointment were unavoidable. She pretended to lay her bangs down just to hide her tears.

“You must behave well. That way, the prince will sense your beauty and come to get you. If it’s not him, then just leave the man, he’s not worth it. Let it only be the prince. You want to live happily ever after, don’t you?”

It is a story about I who manage to live my life happily ever after.  I want to live my life like anyone else, pursuing happiness and fulfilling it with everything I delight. I want to cherish every moment with pleasure. But not like this.

The girl nodded.