Recycling

Whale Belly

Right now I want to quench my thirst, take out that piece that was devoured by fire. The old, left behind memories.

The new one, carried away by the atmosphere of haru. Shadowing over to entertainment and summer vacation spots that become a relaxing habit, visit the destination for a moment to calm down.

It looks like it's raining out there. It reminds me of a lot of things. Yeah—so, it's okay.

Behind the twilight light that began to appear to shine enveloped the scenery, a beautiful sheen of color there. A notebook this close to hope hangs in the mind while writing a few words, a few lines of tone.

I went back to that day. Where at that time the first series in the story of my life intertwined and began this story, while sitting on a hill that is not too high from the eyes look down, looking down, relax for me to enjoy and stare at the twilight scenery in the western sky. Staring at the fictional book in which a story is written is not desirable, love stories do not arrive. A lying paragraph that clarifies the sentence of praise to the lover which in fact all is a lie.

The end of the sad fiction seemed to sink along with the twilight, my feelings also began to dim.

It's a love story, man. Now I want to remember another story from all that.

About friendship

About the struggle

A row of grooves echoed, flowing like calm water. It's an old song, man. Between relaxing and laughing or getting angry. Anger is not good for me, I try to avoid every day that passes. Every moment of the day I was busy arranging myself, flinching alone.

“You know whales? Fish swimming in the ocean, big fish bigger than your house, man. And there you see his belly.”

“Hahaa.. that big whale belly, man.” The voice is now remembered and reflected in the memory.

Laughter with its characteristic. Wh who? Who else if not him. I remember very well that time when he laughed and I don't want to mention it now, later less excitement.

“You must not be eaten by a whale and make your life end up dead in its belly. If you go in there, just accept fate. It could be that you're gonna die and end up being a thief in his stomach. It ends in bone and becomes dirt, then you will be thrown out of the butt and the sound of his fart, the dirt that united with the sea water and finally you are wiped off the face of this earth.”

He said it like a serious person. Looking at the sky which was raining heavily and not a little bit of sunlight was visible. Darkened.

It was as if day had night. Thankfully, there was no lightning or thunder. Only rain is accompanying us both now.

The hut in the middle of the rice fields and he was at that time telling a long story. Wh who? Who else if not him. Sajak, he was the one who first uttered the whale's belly to me. Describe his ridiculous imagination.

The beginning of the story seasoned the story crisp, making me like a person who was forced to listen. But, at the end of his imagination, I'll tell you how his imaginary story is connected to the real story that makes me feel sorry.

I said don't be confused. Hhehe, Stomach Whale he said. Far from what I thought before.

The rhyme talks about it in a style that goes beyond superman running out of taxi fare. That's actually the title of the poem that I don't know is like a morning newspaper, read it. I told you, didn't I? I said I wanted to make the longest newspaper in the world and probably get an award and it's ridiculous to get an award. The point is I want to make a newspaper, without having to bother being burdened by a storyline that is too.

My talent can't make a great storyline like most others do. Like most of the ones on the market. My life is part of this whole script that doesn't give me much of the best impression of remembering it all, given the row of times that gave me the chance to meet someone and start this story.

Fish stomach satisfied. Inspiration can come from anywhere, when remembering the words of Sajak in the rice fields first, it crossed my mind to want to string it in the ink strokes of poetry. In a beautiful color, maybe. Or even I'll forget that there's a mystery element.

No, I don't want to make an element of mystery. In this case, I believe in my own ability, although I can indeed give an explanation like a zero percent in mathematics. God, that's so embarrassing, man. It is true that the matter of mathematics almost my entire life used to make a memory that lips laugh when remembering it, even I sucked in math lessons. Lessons that require me to count with my brain and finger movements. Collecting the rest of the money from working in the rice fields helps people uproot the grass until finally I can buy a counting device that looks like marbles are skewed and become satay. That's the form of calculating tools of the era, not calculators or digital tools called smart phone people.

Different rhyme. He's a math teacher. The praise of the teacher once echoed in the principal's office room, I once prankfully heard it. Supposing a fairly steady distance laughed, they also talked about me who was of poor value like I don't know. I forgot about the parable they called about me first.

I am happy to know they called my name. Talk about me who can't do anything. If I had to laugh with them, I would laugh at them as teachers who failed to educate me on subjects. Because the explanation of the teacher I always felt awkward, when asking was accused of not paying attention and thank God Sajak always stood up for me while standing laughed at by the whole class. Look, he's my friend going forward answering all the questions on the board.

“You're cemen once, man. It's a simple math problem.”

“Yes, I'm a cement. Well, you're the math master, right? So help me, I gave you something I heard when the preacher preached in the mosque he said helping a friend was a big reward, you should know that.” I grabbed his shoulder. Trying joking.

The answer was not answered, I whispered. “Come, hurry up and answer. I'm tired here standing from earlier.”

“Quiet, leave it to me. Uh, take it off first but embrace you. I find it hard to write that you keep embracing me like this.”

I heard him smiling wide. Broken to release the embrace on his shoulder. The teacher stared at the head, the other students should not be asked. They were busy laughing with satisfaction.

Within five minutes. I told her like a superhero who saved me and she managed to finish it in just five minutes. Now, guess what I heard? Applause. All the students of 5th grade SD were compactly clapping. Wearing on the ceiling.

Even the teacher now seemed to smile broadly at him, then said with his thick book, “You are the successor to our nation, Sajak. You are indeed a smart and talented person.”

Such praise almost made me frown. But, it's okay. Sajak, he's my friend, my friend in the language of my village. He is indeed talented, champion one of the poetry contest and class champion, math whiz. That is the talent from birth that whoever the teacher, Sajak can adapt which is certainly much different from me. Even always feel the explanation given by the teacher is always nanggung and makes me often ask questions and often get punished.

Indeed, maybe my brain is half in understanding every speech of the teachers. But, I was happy when I was punished I was able to play around freely and regardless of the boring hours of study.

***

Whale Belly. I want to laugh, man. Remembering all that in my mind, about the past.

The title of the poem I wrote that day, happened before I entered the world of college. But, forget for a moment about the strange title of the poem. Behind the title Stomach Whale, there is a story that makes me sometimes feel happy and smile to myself when remembering it. In my notebook, there are a lot of memories.

Eh? Forgetting. In addition to making the longest newspaper in the world, I forgot to say that I also want to make notes here. Not in other places and in this place for me it is easier to write it and remember it like a waterfall droplet that continues to flow falling rapidly. Yeah, I'm back to the old days, man. That time when the four of us were in the rice fields, bathing in mud.

An area as far as the eye could see, we were running around throwing at each other. Rhyme among us most vigorously threw the ground.

“Houu.. You can't hit me, just like your ability turns out that can't be anything.” I ran faster, laughing contentedly managing to avoid every single piece of the Rhyme that missed me.

Feathering with style. That's a frontal joke, if not mentally strong. One of the children our age in the next village had cried because of the joke wrapped in insults. Hours of it to make him cheerful again and say that it was just a joking sentence that we explained. His mother came closer to the more fierce and creepy look in his eyes. That time I always miss, how different from now that can only be confined by the feeling of love that never ends.

Still discussing the rice fields that at that time we ran around squealing with excitement. Former rain before, the mud there seemed more pitch black. I laughed successfully avoiding the Throwing of the Sajak.

“Narak, you cheated!” The rhyme laughed forcefully with its loud voice.

Look over there. The lump of earth he held was like a cannonball that was about to be fired. Like a gun bullet to be thrown. Again and again, I managed to dodge it pithy.

Some others seemed to negotiate, whispered to each other and it turns out that now they helped Sajak and formed a team, agreeing to throw me with a lump of earth.

You know, man. At that time I was like a criminal who actually I myself did not know what my fault was? Black Goat over everything. Look, they're now naming themselves as a team of heroes called a trio of superheroes who want to beat me.

“Hey, have you negotiated enough, my friend? Come on, attack me!” I stared at the laughter with my tongue out.

“Narak, wait for our attack. We will destroy you from the face of this earth and we will save this earth from evil beings like you!” The rhyme speaks with a super-fantastic intonation. Staring at me for a while and not long turning his gaze to his team.

I can understand it like giving away a secret code. Want to form a plan, make an attack on me. Heye? Wait a minute, man. There were three of them, and I was alone. This is unfair, but I have to accept it because they have agreed and agreed to make me the greatest opponent and enemy the earth has ever seen.

And the heroine is the three of them. The saviour of the earth from blocking the arrival of extraterrestrials and wanting to exterminate it is I whom they consider troubling the planet earth. Believe, man. These would all be long sentences and when I wrote them in the notebook first, more paper I used. If you feel bored and sleepy when reading it. My advice please you tell me and stop reading this boring piece of writing.

Because I never forced you to read this story. Moreover, I want to say my thanks to you. For those of you who have read my absurd writings.

I used to say, didn't I? I was not good at writing, I even told the script editor that day that they all nodded their heads when staring at my script which was a messy sentence and storyline and did not bother the whole content, where is the destination, topic and context? That's what's confusing. But I didn't give up that easily, though, I always drive to believe and start this life optimistically and for me writing is a way of life that now I try to reach the maximum and insist on building a identity that slowly day by day I want to uphold.

Build this identity from now on. Although all of that is clearly very burdensome to me in the scratches of words that do not give much meaning. As if making my head have to sacrifice slamming logic, forgetting the insult words that are currently become daily PR in every day I go through. In the same breath. Tired for sure.

Like a pseudo-food that I eat to organize this life so that it is more orderly, polite and relieved while occasionally staring pity at the burning furnace and trying so that this self can extinguish it. Make the building strong and keep the fire away from burning my building. In building self-motivation, I had to extinguish that fire from within me.

I want to keep going, without a doubtful murmur, also without a regret that is the frozen determination that I have been wanting to form.

I also said I wanted to be a famous novelist. I love writing anything of any kind.

In the middle of the rice field. Sajak's tone of voice rumbled back to screech into the sky. The two people with him looked at me with steady gazes demonstrating their acting as a hero and following what Sajak did.

Compact. They did the action in front of me there with the look of a super weird face that I had seen, stylized with his style and prepared to throw me with the grip of the ground, a kind of Naruto race. While I wait, put on a relaxed style and still feel good waiting for an attack with a cross on the chest, without having to worry and fear. It's just land.

Not real. It was just a game that we did when we were in the middle of school holidays, Sundays and having fun there.

The lump of land held by Sajak is ready to throw. One or two stops. Silence humming not even.

Two of them followed. They compactly threw me and back then I ran like splitting clouds. Following the rhythm of the wind, dodged the mud shots of the ground they clumped and threw at me. The rain started coming back down.

They're just as compact, I'm just as open. Laughing at them failed to attack me and they laughed at me because when I ran and did something ridiculous happen, I slipped. It was far from their thoughts from attacking me then, instead of laughing. In fact, it was a good opportunity as I lay in the mudflats. Like lying on a bed. The rain seemed to touch my face gently.

The sky with gray clouds above it. Life has always kept me pensive since childhood. Why are there tears? Why was it that the sky seemed to me to be crying? I was busy daydreaming, staring and questioning myself.

The rhyme came up to me and extended a hand. “Wake, friend. You can't sleep there, can you?”

Two people with him reached out. I am the one who is confused now. The dilemma between life and death. Eh? Kebablasan crap, I mean is I confused about choosing which hand? Until I finally decided and chose to rise up alone, not wanting to make any of them feel offended.

“How are you? Am I not the villain you want to defeat? Why are you helping me now?”

“When I slipped, wasn't it a good opportunity for you to attack me. Come on, explain why you guys want to help me?”

I sniffed speech. Even more questions that actually want to divert the topic from just discussing a slip up. That's my way of sharpening speech like an angry person. My laughter disappeared and disappeared like turning into a lion and roaring loudly.

Sajak stared no doubt apologizing and continued with his style, “It was just a game, man. Where there is a real, did you feel that we really consider you our enemy?”

“Hey, that's a big one, buddy.” The rhyme grinned, mimicking the style of his favorite soccer player.

“True, it's a big one.” Two people beside Sajak kompak.

“We're just playing around.”

They can't be joked. Anyway I mean just joking, maybe my joke is crisp with a tone of speech like angry. In fact, I just said what it is.

I laughed soon. They were amazed and laughed with me.

“You are easily fooled.”

I clumped up the ground and threw it on each of their faces. And they weren't angry, they broke down and I ran faster to escape and save myself.

Rhyme shouting. “Narak, you cheat again!”

“Iya, it's cheating his name!”

They exclaimed in annoyed tones, but the look on their faces was just as laughing, laughing at each other at the faces with mud.

“Who let your guard down, am I a criminal who has no conscience, so it's only natural.” I laughed proudly and reminded him of the acting we were doing.

The heroes also advanced now not many more words and back each clumped the ground. Throwing at me and I ran back up excitedly dodging it.

The rain is getting heavier in the sky. One of the old geezers soon approached from a distance. Hold an umbrella in his hand, and say go home quickly. It was the parents of one of us, not the parents of Sajak. That's the parents of one of the two.

Without much objection one of us ran and had previously spoken to us that he could not linger, his parents had called to return home. The rest is just the three of us now. Staring at one of us who kept running to answer the call of his parents.

He's lucky to have parents. I can only imagine what the old man looks like and what it would be like if I had parents. It was likely that the time would be like her. Two people with me also have parents, only I alone do not have them.

The run quickly caught up with his father there. The rain in the sky was now becoming increasingly heavy. One more man decided to go home and went home with a fresh laugh on his face. We're both left now.

Me and Sajak decided to go home too. The rice fields seem increasingly dirty with mud puddles that seem increasingly concentrated with the sound of his trademark and the bad luck of the wind that is heard. Chilly.

The air when it rains is cold. From the cottage of the farmhouse until when we walked home, the story of the Whale Stomach was quite able to make me forget the coldness of the body.

“Whale stomach, man. You wouldn't be able to imagine what the fate of someone who enters into it would end up like, would you? If you can imagine the food. You just imagine the side dishes.” Sajak explains still with his style.

It's still in the lodge. We rested there for a while. Until in the middle of the journey the story continues and I continue to listen to the story of whales that live in the depths of the ocean that can be shallow. Sunlight Zones. The known zone on one of the records that records it from sheet to sheet, contains writing on sea level that has a depth of up to 700 feet or (213 meters). The depth zone can still be penetrated by light, illuminated by sunlight of course and make the zone has a warm temperature. Most of the animals that live in the sea. A group of creatures that breathe water. They live in that zone, as well as photoplankton. Animals that become the main food for some marine animals there. Especially whales, if that's not a misreference, man. Because I read it too. That's my life, man. About people who are just learning, get to know a field of science without a serious self with determination and a healthy body soul. Learning is important and necessary to know about life.

I'm a lot wrong about this. The rhyme only tells and does not deviate from the discussion. Distant from me who when talking can widen the problem to everywhere.

Sajak had read about it and I never thought the story would get to one point. Yeah—his imagination turned into a story I never thought possible. The real story and moved from his imagination to the real story I've heard.

The greatest miracle ever happened to one of the prophets. On the high seas, every Muslim who studies like us knows the story. The story of the Prophet Jonah Alaihis Salam.

“Friends, we always know the essence of that story, don't we? Even teachers teach us in mosques often mention it and discuss it with our amazing parables when they hear it. The story of the prophet Jonah who was swallowed by the great whale. The story that makes teachers teach us drama fantastically mimics the sound of waves and wind until it feels like making us laugh at each other.”

Yeah, that's true. Now, I'm afraid to listen to the story of Sajak that I admit he is good at telling stories in his casual style. Especially exactly the same as the story told by our teacher. Actually, the fish that ate the Prophet Jonah Alaihis salam is a Nun fish found in the Arabic script in the Qur'an Surah Al-Anbiya verse 87. Master taught us to name the fish a whale. In some references in the year when I was entering high school I got information about the name of the fish.

Many references I found and the results say that the fish that swallowed the Prophet Jonah Alaihis greeting was named whale and that most references are sourced from several books that have filled my days at that time. That was the time I always missed.

“Prophet Yunus Alaihi salam taught us a lesson, Narak. About how patience it must be inside and not to be provoked by anger. But the patience of Jonah was extraordinary. It almost made me not forget. The story of the teacher teaching us when in the mosque that day, for 33 years the Prophet Jonah preached, only two residents of Nineveh who listened to him. You can imagine, right? That was a long time ago.”

I swallowed a mouthful of water into my throat. Be amazed by the story about the Prophet Jonah Alaihis.

“For that long. Yes, the teacher taught us that day to explain it. It's like we coexist and deal with those who behave badly. Our condition will probably be completely tested with it.” We keep going.

“Yeah, about that teacher taught us the universe. And now it seems like it's getting raining, man. We better take shelter, find a place to rest.”

That voice sounded faint. Rain drops and the sound of wind rumbling. We are still in the rice field area, the rain continues to fall rapidly. There was another hut and we rested. While sitting there, Sajak finally returned to continue his story. Until the story got to the point where the drama mimicked the style of our storytelling teacher it started by him.

Look at his face now, following every intonation he spoke.

The story begins, man. About a time when one day, the patience of the Prophet Jonah had reached its limit in facing the Ninevites who were arguably stubborn and unwilling to believe. He also humanly with the patience that has been lost it intends to leave his people, before he leaves there. The prophet Jonah Alaihis said hello to the people of Nineveh that the torment of Allah will come to them. Then went the prophet Jonah Alaihis greeting in a state of sadness, disappointment, and anger. Mixed feelings that envelop the heart.

On one of the docks in Nineveh. The prophet Jonah Alaihis salam hitchhiked on one of the ships. That teacher taught us used to convey it with a variety of voices and when it was clear weather there. A thing that makes inner prejudice echo about the ocean will be fine until the destination. The captain approved the prophet Jonah to sail with them, even though his ship was overloaded.

“Friends, we always know that story, don't we? The teacher taught us even more details. When in the middle of the ocean, big waves and storms occur. The clouds were dark, the wind was strong and the captain had ordered the cargo to be dumped into the sea. The result was no progress until in the end the skipper had to take a bitter decision, which was to reduce the number of passengers on the ship. Thinking also at that time they did so that everything was fair, the determination of who passengers should get out of the ship was done by lottery.”

The rhyme looked up for a moment towards the sky, raising one of its right hands like a praying person. It holds rain water slowly. The style of the story was quite decent, it almost made me imagine the figure of the teacher who explained it to us that day.

The story of Sajak again continues with his shady gaze. “Yeah, friend. We'll always know that story, won't we? The prophet Jonah Alaihis greetings that in the end he was swallowed by a large fish, even the teacher taught us once said about one of the scholars, he said, Salim bin Abi al-Ja'd mentioned in the book of Tafsir Ibn Kathir that the big fish was swallowed again by other larger fish so that the situation in there darkened to 2 times plus with the darkness of the sea. While in the belly of the great fish, the prophet Jonah heard the prayer beads coming from the big fish and other fish. He even heard the sound of countless fish eggs. Our teacher explained that even exegetes said, The prophet Jonah thought he died. However, after he managed to move his limbs, at that time also the Prophet Jonah Alaihis salam positioned himself in a solemn state, prostrating and praying to Allah.”

“Long patience, friend. That's the whole point of the story we've heard. Teacher taught us that at that time told us all. That's a wonderful thing, if you go in that whale's belly you could be dead, man.”

Laugh rhyme. I was just as laughing, even though I was made to wander earlier given how much patience during that time finally bore fruit. For 40 days in the belly of a whale.

In terms of being in the belly of a whale. There are indeed some disagreements and famous opinions. For 40 days in the belly of the whale and during that time his prayer beads continued to sound, continuing to echo mention and recognize themselves as dzholim.

Every event has wisdom that can be taken in it. I remember that time, the time where Sajak told me in his style which until now was still fresh I remember and about it right at the time before entering the lecture. I wrote a poem called Stomach Whale which I admit was inspired by some of these stories. Between the rain and the story of a prophet that made me feel like there was a vibration in my soul to take up the privilege, asking for forgiveness for the sins that were in me. Hoping on one hope everything will be erased like a pencil scribble, like charcoal crust on a pan rubbed with a wire sponge or other alternative things because in my village if there is crust on the pot, then, the way is quite rubbed with a wire sponge.

Although it does take hours and the results are quite a bit white and there are still spots that are difficult to remove. Yeah, Rhyme. We will always know about the story because we used to live and grow with one of the teachers who likes to tell stories and even more simple, more detailed in telling them.

It was not a fictional story that our teacher told, there were even many other stories that were clearly reliable, sourced from the traces of hadith narrators and the holy book of the Qur'an. Again, the stories told by our teachers are sometimes sourced in the descriptions and explanations of the scholars about all that and arranged in the books that are more thick pages.

In the rain that slowly subsided, we decided to go home. The story of the rhyme was over he explained to me by taking the good side and about the ending of it all we already know, we have a lot to remember as memories of a friend and a friend in my hometown language.

“Whale Belly, friend. You know that big whale belly.”

It was so he said that it was still reflected in the memory of my head, until now.