Play your guitar Sophie
Hai
I'm Sophie. Sophie Srikandi's. If you think my name's weird, you're not the first person to think so. Just relax because I also once thought that my name was weird. The name was given to Mama because she had hope. According to Mama, Sophie is the feminine side of God. While Srikandi, is one of the names of characters in the world of puppet. A woman who was not only smart in the kitchen but her fighting skills were also taken into account during the Baratayudha war. Mama hopes that by giving that name I can unite all the goodness of the east and the west. So that I can become a broad-minded girl with an exotic personality. Great isn't it ? Honey I don't really understand the meaning of it all because I always heard it when I was 9 years old.
When I was a kid, I learned that one of the characteristics of living things is to grow. Growing means from small TO LARGE, budS TURN into flowers and seeds TURN into fruit. Since I was 16 years old, I knew that it was not living things that could CHANGE. Fate can also CHANGE, just like my fate.
My life used to look like a little princess in a fairy tale. Running in the park, chasing butterflies, being thrown in sewers, being bitten by ants, eating Mama's waffle cakes and sitting at the dinner table with Papa while Mama makes hot chocolate on a rainy day. If it's night, after my room light is turned off, I'll open my window and then sing. Like this, like this,
…
Li …. Li …. Li …. Li …. La …. La …..
Moon star. blink – flicker in the night sky
Never tired, like fireflies – fireflies
Li …. Li …. Li …. Li …. La …. La …..
A great wind is coming, your fire is not extinguished
You need a rainbow
The sky is beautiful because of the many colors
Li …. Li …. Li …. Li …. La …. La …..
Sometimes – sometimes, I sing too loud until Mama yells from outside my room like this, “Sophie !!!! The singing continues tomorrow only well !!!!”
Even so, I still sang until my mouth ached and my eyes were heavy. Then I would dream of meeting a rabbit and stealing a carrot while being chased – chase a giant shoe. Then it was saved by a dwarf who gave me a red apple and a rannum that turned out to be poisonous, so I fell asleep. Inside a giant chickpea whose towering branches touched the clouds. Then there was a chicken pecking – pecked the chickpea I fell asleep in until I woke up and found the chicken had transformed into a handsome prince. I have exterminated the curse, and I wake up with a happy heart.
But one night, that time thought – thought I was 6 years old, I had a bad dream. I dreamed of being chased – chase a giant hen who then turns into a Dragon. A dragon with teeth as sharp as a knife. The dragon pounced on me with its white claws stuck in my chest. Then I woke up, hearing a noise from the middle room. Mom and Dad had a big fight. Several times there was the sound of broken items or tables being kicked. I didn't dare go out, just hide under my blanket while closing my eyes trying to sleep. I'd better dream of being attacked by a giant cockroach, being slaughtered by a tiger or bitten by a goat. Until in the end I had to accept the bad reality, Mama and Papa divorced.
Since then, I have not seen Papa. I nurtured Mama until I guess – thought I was 9 years old until when Mama died, leaving me a little money and an old guitar. Then I stayed with Grandma and Mama's sister whom I used to call Frans and a parrot to talk to. Name, Fernando.
Grandma VS Frans
When Mama died and I kept – crying, Grandma said to me, “Stop crying Sophie. Life is too precious for you to miss just by crying.” Grandma always has the right words for every problem. He doesn't speak stale – bases or spend time gossiping on the phone.
Grandma is not the type of woman who cookes her hair high – high with a ton of hair spray, wears an expensive dress then comes to the seminar – seminar or arisan. Grandma prefers to wear jeans and a peasant hat to spend time working in the apple orchard. An old friend of Grandma's, Nek Irma, once asked me.
“You know how strong your Grandma used to be?” I shook my head because I didn't know what he meant.
“Your grandmother used to fight with a buffalo !” I laughed, thinking of it as a joke. “Don't laugh Sophie. I'm not kidding,”
“Already, don't you listen to Irma Sophie,” Grandma sitting in a rattan chair, crossing her legs while reading the newspaper.
“There used to be a lot of farmers plowing their fields with buffalo. Once, a buffalo came off and ran into your Grandma's garden,” Nek Irma stopped because Grandma cut, cut,
“Not my garden Irma. My father's garden,”
“Iya is the same!” Stopped a moment later Nek Irma continued her story, “the buffalo is damaging cabbage and carrot seedlings that have just grown. In fact, it's been a few weeks your grandmother's been working on that garden. Seeing that his work was damaged by buffalo, your grandmother got angry and took the wood to hit the buffalo. You got dragged by khan ?” Nek Irma turned to Grandma who was still reading. “Iya, slight wound.”
“You hit what the buffalo was ?”
“Horn is Irma.”
“Call it. The buffalo likes to be hit by its horns the least. It's worth her anger,” Nek Irma turned her face to me again then went back to telling stories.
“Lucky Sophie, people – villagers came to bring a rope to catch the buffalo. If only your grandmother and the buffalo had not been separated, maybe one of them would have stayed the name now.”
“The buffalo is also live now name Irma,” Grandma arrived – arrived saying.
“Ah really ? Turns out she also has a name ... but what pain ?”
“Agolden. If people like stories that are not – no, can – can also he stay name” then Nek Irma nods – nods her head before saying, “You mean me?” My grandmother laughed and I smiled
After I heard the story, I thought that Grandma actually deserved Srikandi's name more than me.
There's another one, Grandma likes to play the harmonica. Everyone who heard Grandma playing the harmonica, would definitely stop for a moment to drift away to enjoy the game Grandma. At night, Grandma likes to sit on the porch enjoying the night breeze. Then, he will stroke – elus briefly harmonikanya before playing. Then he'll start blowing it the –-field cleavage forming a song that I'm no longer familiar with. Maybe the song Dolly Parton, The Beatles, Everly Brothers or even – even inherited songs from ancient times.
Maybe by playing the harmony Grandma is playing again the past that used to be through. In my shadow, the young and beautiful Grandma went out of town on a train. The white dress with the wide subordinates that Grandma was wearing fluttered with gusts of wind. Arrived – arrived Grandma's handbag fell off and a young man with tidy hair picked it up for Grandma. Then they got married, fell in love and born Mama and Frans. How wonderful.
Unlike Grandma, Frans is a great guitar player. Frans always played guitar with his heart. The heart of a gentle man. Her personal warmth makes anyone near her feel calm and comfortable. Once, one day he said,
“You know Sophie, how lucky you are to be born a woman,” at that time her eyes glazed out the window, looking at the rows of white-studded apple trees that had been shed. Then he closed his eyes, took a breath for a moment then kicked while strumming the guitar. As if – would, he gained an incredible composure, which he did not get when his guitar playing stopped.
As far as I know, Frans has never had a girlfriend even though she was 27 years old. If I was teased about the girlfriend, Frans would answer,
“Not yet matched Sophie.” I see from his eyes, as if – will Brother Frans want to say something else. Something he kept – meetings meeting so far, which even me or Grandma did not know. Whatever it is, I will still love Frans. My darling won't change even if she doesn't have a boyfriend.
Strict grandmother and gentle Brother Frans. The two of them complemented each other by managing an apple orchard and running Toebroek, a coffee shop that had been a money-making machine for the three of us.
