NADIRS
Nadir ~ Gaskan
In the landscape of a very soft night, flickering stars like marble swept by light beams. Beautiful sheen. As if inscribed on every view, bhawa is the owner of the perfect beauty of the night. Candra is like a super-large halogenic lamp that has ever existed, blinding the dark with its fractured rays, giving off cool, revealing calmness. Give pause to the village farmers to enjoy their quiet time, after a day of work and blistering sting.
At night towards the corners of the village, when the wind hits, freedom is created. Created rustling of pea-pea― grass plants whose stems can be used as woven mats, baskets, and top― that grow densely in swamp areas on the banks of the koili river.
The dried leaves of tamalang that decays over the river water create a miraculous circle of geometric ripples, their bubbling edges reflecting the refraction of the moon. Giving an opportunity for kalong-kalong party in the water guava tree that has ranum fruit. Especially in the tamalang tree, the newly hatched hummingbirds, whistling occasionally, invite deep harmony. Drown.
As we realize, nature is the canvas for the night, alongside the reflection of the much bluer and brighter rays of the sky in May, created giant silhouettes like a black-and-white painting with a sparkling light. Truly, a masterpiece akbar number wahid artist that ever existed.
And, between those silhouettes, we lay our bodies on the back of the damp earth, staring at the night sky that I told you― was too blue and bright in May. Our hands were folded as pillows, our eyes sharply piercing the sky. The smile did not break curving. There's a hopelessness drawn up there. Among the constellations that play with the eyes.
Me and Wira enjoy the koili river. Waiting, our baits were struck by a pompous river fish.
“You know, I'll create a song for the night..,” Wira murmured.
“Will the poet about that blue sky!”
“Dreams!”
“For ideals!”
“For Melody,” Add.
“For the long wait,” timpalku. We chuckled, samar.
We have agreed, all night long we will wake up, accompany the lonely koili river. Talk, talk, or laugh and remember with him. Make him a universal witness. For the sake of dreams and ideals, for the sake of appreciating happiness, for the flower of love that slowly blooms in a piece of heart, and for the ordination of friendship.
Me and Wira were getting excited when our hook buoys drowned, a sign that there was a fish stuck in the hook. We were at the height of the art of fishing. Practicing patience. Sport heart. Down there, behind the river, there is hope and disappointment, interesting. Create a long pull, until someone relents. What is a pongah fish? Fishing hooks? The strings? Or it could be the angler, because he is unable to hold his patience longer. Yes, effort is a testament to patience. Desperation is laughter.
Like that, our view of this sport of fishing.
Next to me the hero exclaimed. He managed to reach the height of tension in the art of fishing. A catagan¹⁴ fish the size of a board he managed to conquer. The first big catch.
“Do not look at me, my friend. Watch your fishing rod, lest you lose to me!” he cried, while releasing the fish from the fishing rod.
I went back to my pancake, my adrenaline spurred on seeing the bamboo sticks start to curve along with the plastic strings stretched. I followed the tempo of the fish, creating thin hisses in the water. I don't want to lose, I have to conquer the fish, just like Wira. But alas, because in every fight there must be a losing side, the result, my fishing string is broken. If Wira gets her hope, I'm disappointed. But, no matter, at least I can reap the philosophical meaning of this sport of fishing. Of patience.
I approached the Hero who was lighting a fire.
“Why, Friend?”
“My line, break up!”
“Ah is fine!”
After changing the strings and fishing line, I stuck another bamboo stick on the riverbank, hoping that next I could get fish, like Wira. When I plugged the bamboo stick into the riverbank, I was amazed as my eyes caught a blue sheen on the riverbank, revealing sunken prints with curved corners there. Glossiness.
The night is getting late, the moon is still visible, although occasionally the light is dispelled by the clouds of mamatus. Me and Wira, enjoying the rice we brought and grilled patagan fish, plus tomato sauce specially prepared by Wira. Smelling the scent of grilled fish, which oozed when Wira began to affix the sauce, my saliva melted. Can't wait for me to finish our menu tonight. Oi.
I gulped, gulping down water many times. Wira sighed, like a goose belonging to Mangge Rustam, because of pungency after eating provisions. Though from the beginning I had planned to devour all the dishes to the end, because I was hungry. However, the grilled patagan fish was still left next door, too big for me to spend. Although we still want to spend, whatever the power, our stomach can no longer accommodate.
As a scout camping activity at the PERSAMI (Saturday Camp Sunday) event, we have prepared everything, all camping equipment, including coffee. Yeah, we brought the coffee termos.
“Happy mood tonight, Friends!” said Wira, sipping his coffee.
“You're right, let alone the sky is very bright. I don't want to leave this place.”
“How's it going, Melody, across there?” The hero asks rhetorically, “What letter have we sent him already arrived? Ah, is he staring at the sky that's too blue tonight? just like us?”
I'm not huffing, just quiet. Let me keep my questions to myself.
“Tak feels we have come this far.” added Wira, again. “I did not expect, if we can realize these small dreams.... absolutely never!”.
My kakacapi ondong I borrowed from Ama for tonight. Petty-tickets. It's been a long time, since Ama taught me, only tonight again I play this thing again. It's good I heard my excerpts covered by the lantern tonight.
Slowly I played the quote song Rindu Mayu as sung by Ama that night. Shown by Ina's pusara, Ama's own face tonight at home. Oh, the weather my heart so quickly turned homesick.
The hero started humming faintly. He seems to know this song well enough. I stopped the quote, I closed my eyes, enjoying this melodious silence. A story played out in my mind. Ama's tales, her life story with Ina, and again the moments in which Ama raises me to her shoulders, supports me around the fields, hugs me, kisses me softly, he said, then somehow my tears shed at once I remember again when Ama was lying weakly in her bed. Heart wrenching.
“You why, Friend?” ask Wira, because I suddenly stopped playing kakacapi, “You cried?”
“Ah, I was just moved, it turns out we can get this far.”
“Indeed, if remembered, all this is moving.” Wira stared blankly at the dimness on the back of the koili river, “Suddenly I miss someone?” The hero half whispered, but I could hear.
“Hanine, huh?” my guess.
Smiling hero, “Haiss.. You are! accompany me to sing!” her door.
“Love does always have a unique side.” I muttered, while mesmerizing.
I changed the strings of the kakacapi. I've prepared a song for teenagers who are in a mood like this Friend of mine. Saban night, since the day of the announcement of the SMA entrance selection, when I first met Hanin, I often heard this song sung by Wira―Tak Be Into Lain Hati―Kla Project.
Oh, I can feel the depth of Vira's love for that Chinese girl named Hanin. His voice was smooth yet sharp, splitting the silence of the night on the banks of the koili river. My heart goes with the nelangsa, accompanies it. Interested in the flowery world. Amboys....
The moonlight that made the sky too blue up there, as if decaying. Sweeping coldly our bodies, penetrating into the critical depths of our hearts melodiously. To give out longing, to imply despair, to express hope, mind, and love.
Under the same sky we stood,
Under the same sky we ran, and,
Under the same sky we promised, you,
Under the same sky, dreams will be realized.
Don't forget the criticism and suggestions, stay in the column...😁
Notes :
Footnotes are in the first episode.
