Malay Romance Zaman Now
1. Trade
This twilight is dangling in the beautiful space. Mega pieces in the universe that are in a breath of white like a painting scattered. Desau wind like a whisper that delivers dim night. The sun is moving west. Below it, the flow of Musi River ripples. Rama cast a downward gaze, towards the Musi River. I saw the flowing water. He walked on the sidewalk of Ampera Bridge. On the road many vehicles pass. The roar and horn crammed into the silence of the twilight.
The iliran people are better off trading alone.
His father's words kept swirling around in his mind. Kicked pebbles. The pebble slammed down, splashing into the river. He walked along the street and went back looking for pebbles or anything to kick, venting out what was troubling him. Rama immediately moved to the left because behind him was heard the sound of a motorcycle horn that was passing. He spit to the right. Right after the motorcycle that violated that traffic passed by recklessly.
Rama's footsteps grew faster as the streets began to decline. So that if there is a pedicab that passes do not have to bother pedaling, just relax holding the handlebars, sitting while daggering to see the scenery, see the view, close your eyes for a while while breathing fresh air mixed with harmful toxins on the streets, continue to fade, relax. But not for Rama. His leg swing felt heavy because his shoulder was like carrying a sack of cement containing a piece of his father's speech. Then it's anything. I don't know, nothing, just a pile of dust and dry sand.
No more vehicles on the road. He crossed over to Monpera without looking right-left. The angkot scream of Ampera-Pakjo made his ears hurt. But the shading of the trees around the Great Mosque made it melt. Embarrass him. He continued to walk west. The Temon Road. Until finally he reached his hometown: Sekanak, a village in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city.
The house is not far from the banks of the Musi River. The old house is long and large with a dominant black-brown color. Wood from the foundation pole or house fence is trembesu, while for the walls and floors use merawan type wood. In addition to including traditional Palembang house, Rumah Limas also contains historical value, because the nobles in the past lived in a house rich in carvings of flowers and leaves, it is, so that its function is not only as a place to live, but also as a building that has a high aesthetic value.
The house is a relic of Rama's great-grandfather from his father's lineage. His room was filled with the sound of punk music blaring. Walls and floors should not be asked. It vibrates! Songs of St. Green Day's Jimmy shook his room. Wiggle Rama's head and stomp his feet. He took out his HP then contacted Vio. A moment later, Vio pressed the green button.
“Vi, where are you again?”
“At home.”
“Quick to my home, now!”
Snapping, Vio rushed out of his house, then locked the door. Turned on the vespanya machine. The sound of the blind motor is exactly the sound of a coconut grating machine. From 26 Ilir to Sekanak, not too long. Five minutes on foot.
Teenage girl who is just in 11th grade High School approaches Vio. He closes his nose because of smoke and harmful emissions from vespa that linger in the air. He stared at the nano. While Vio grinned and sumringah.
“Ayu... how are you?”
“Basic sucks. Smoke your motor, brother, make pollution bae*.”
“Sorry, Dik. Excuse me. Aih... You add sweet bae.”
“It's not just the Carbon that's running dangerous toxins, but the rider is also.”
Vio pushing the Carbon. “Evertime, Dik.”
“Yes, once for today. Tomorrow will be like this again. Basic!”
“Where is your sister?”
“In room. Enter bae. Consider it the home of Rama and Ayu.”
Sunday night is the most liberal night after the turn of the year, the freest among the other six nights, and the most independent for true lovers. With the Vespa they both explore Palembang.
They scream at the underpass. “Aaaaaa!!”
Arriving in the fly over, they catapulted a kiss bye to the people below.
They prank the night butterflies around Bukit Kecil.
The two bachelors were making fun of the sissy who was running away.
Speeds with “cabe-cabean”.
Finally arrived at the plaza of Kuto Besak Fortress. The area of the BKB court is not much different from the area of the football field. When night falls, in addition to many sellers of clothes as souvenirs from Palembang, many also sellers of appearance accessories, such as rings, bracelets, necklaces and so on that open the stall. There are also many food and soft drink vendors. Tek-tek noodle sellers lined up, ready to serve customers.
Whining little boy who was dragging his mother's hand to buy a balloon flying kite shaped Masha cute from Russia the friend of the Bear, the voice of the little boy earlier, the voice of the, collaborate with the call of the sellers. Smoke grill corn jotos with cigarette smoke mamang-mamang maize buyers. The sound of the aunt's stove of the seller of egg crust sounds smooth because it is swallowed by the sound of buskers who are looking for rupiah. While lovers who hear the voice of the street musician must stop the conversation and ready to reach out.
A little to the middle of the court. The brothers in black jackets were crouching and fluttering in front of a chess title installed by hat mamangs after paying the administration of twenty thousand rupiah. If all his troops were able to overturn the king from the mamang-mamang wild chess gambling game with a swing motion graceful three steps only then the money two hundred thousand or prizes like one classic Nokia and two pack the cigarettes ready to take home. Although silent, the contents inside his head were raging thinking how to overthrow the power of the king who had been carefully arranged by the mamang-mamang who was smoking the cigarette.
BKB is like a place inhabited by hundreds of fireflies when viewed from a distance. White lights are combined by the flickering of colorful lights. The Ampera Bridge Tower looks solid. The icon of Palembang is a beautiful sight in the middle of the night. The lights shot a red color into the building. Light rays and reflections of yellow gold melted over the surface of the Musi River water that oscillated, then green, blue, purple. It was as if there was a rainbow on it.
Rama and Vio walked amidst the people. They saw an empty place for them to sit on the edge of the court. Sit the two of them side by side. Rama's long hair seemed to fly because of the force of the wind, his bangs swinging. Although the atmosphere was a bit dark, but the hue of his face still shone. The look on his face revealed a face that seemed to be always smiling. Her split chin had made her more memorable in the eyes of the people.
“You believe the iliran people are destined to trade?”
“I'm not a pretentious shaman,” spray Vio.
In the middle of the crowd was a bunch of punk kids. Rama watched them with a thin smile, then said, “Keren nian them it.”
“Who?”
Then Rama gave direction by moving his head towards the right.
“Oh,” reply Vio. “Originally dak anarchis bae, Jok*. I remember when we were Junior High. Look like a punk kid. Like them.”
As Rama thought, the Musi River continued to flow.
