Silhouetted

6.2 Opus 6: A Silent Longing

RAYA

Right now he was thinking about the cupid myth. Are his eyes really closed? And is it true that he always shoots his love arrows in all directions without calculation? Does it not show that the gods up there have no calculations? Babies are told to release the arrows of love, even with their eyes closed!

He's breaking down. Staring at ceiling.

Set a view on the dusty plasterboard whose color is no longer white. Looking at a small lizard walking upside down. Did cupid shoot arrows at lizards too?

Now back to night. I prefer to look at it at night. Thinking about cupid? No, he's thinking about love. At this young age, how many times did he feel in love?

First it was clear to his mother. The woman who gave birth and now her hair is partially gray. Who while sleeping is often looked at the white hair. Sometimes Raya cries knowing her mother is old.

What's wrong with getting old?

After all his mother probably won't be that sad, getting old is a necessity of fate whereas being an adult is a personal process. And until now Raya still considers her mother's hair is not white but silver.

“Silver Mom, so it always shimmers overwritten by light lamp. So that you will always look graceful under the light.”

Usually his mother just smiled and stroked his son's hair. And Raya will soon move into the room and play a tone composition. Sometimes even new tones that he immediately wrote. How caresses lovers will cause inspiration. Moreover, this is an eternal lover.

Then the second in his violin, also the tone of the tone collected and joking inside each string. Maybe he also loved Opa who gave him this violin. Almost every night Raya swiped him and met with a tone in there. This violin is the place to channel feelings. Every time he is sad or happy, the notes that come out are like that. Like feelings.

Is it not too much?

Probably not, considering Raya does not have many friends. His High School friends—also other friends—has disappeared (or is it Kingdom that disappeared from them?). While in the neighborhood, he prefers to confine himself in the room. So only on the violin did he assume his true friend existed.

“This is my lover.”

So he said that every person asked about his violin. Raya often said that because a lover is a person who understands the feelings of his lover's heart. A lover is a friend to channel feelings, a lover should also understand what happens without having to show facial expressions.

At night, at dusk, at dawn, there is no place to channel feelings except through tone. At least that's Raya's custom.

Raya is still pondering while the tape recorder in her room plays a track that is quite jazzy. I don't know what song, who it belongs to. He tried to remember how many tens of compositions he had created so far, not many, (and not all of them) but for someone who learned violin by self-taught it could be amazing.

Ah, Raya never wanted to be praised. This time too. After two months of training he was chosen as a concert master. Almost everyone congratulated him, but Raya responded with a momentary smile. There is nothing to be proud of, being a concert master means getting a big responsibility.

But anything that can make him close to his lover, with tones and rhythms will certainly be fun.

He once said that to his mother while showing her violin, at that time his mother was still wrapped in mucena

“Mother, this is my lover, mother also.”

His mother smiled and replied, “Then where is God?”

Raya was stunned, feeling there was a shift on the side of her brain but she replied, “She is also my lover, but I can't mention her.”

“Why?” his mother folded mukena.

“Mother, without having to be given a confession with any mention, God will still be my lover.”

Well, then the next one is God, He is also my lover but He should be above all else. Then I can't mention it.

Slowly his hand went up, propping the violin. Then that night, at a time when everything was going well, an owl and a sleepy patrolman heard the sound of the violin coming out of the bedroom window. A new composition, Raya plays it with a closed heart but she while imagining everything. Recall his exercises and the departure plan that was only a week away. Remembering the God who might be looking at him. Remembering the gray hair in his mother's hair that always glittered under the lights.

While the tones flow smoothly. It felt like Raya could repeat itself for a lifetime for this tone. And the friction stopped when on his eyelids reflected Anjeli's face. He opened his eyes.

Feeling that she was in love with Anjeli made her able to play again new tones. Feeling that the presence of Anjeli he needed to give a pure composition.

“But is love only that limited?”

While the rhythm was quite jazzy had stopped flowing from the radio.