Waiting for the Light to Return

Chapter 1 - The Wounded Goddess

I have always admired Bandung City, albeit for a rather strange reason.

People ‘kan admire Bandung because of the beauty of its mountains, the coolness of nature, or the attraction of tourism, yes.

But me? I admire Bandung because of the arrangement of the streets in his city.

Wh why?

Because you will never get lost in Bandung. No matter how lost you are, you can always find your way back home easy.

Unlike Jakarta and all its one-way labyrinths.

Or New York with street names that are hard to remember half dead.

In Bandung, if we want to go to Dago for example, but take the wrong way and somehow even arrive in Sukajadi, no need to worry.

Just follow the path and the directions, we will surely soon arrive at the place we want to go. Even without turning back.

Because all the roads in Bandung are connected to each other. It is like billions of neurons that despite their complex structure are extraordinary, but never separated from the herd.

　

That's why I dared to drive a car in this city even though I'm a big forgetful.

My daughter always hesitated if she should be taken to school by me.

When he was sitting in his kindergarten uniform and found out that I was the one who came in and started the car engine, he always said.

“Ma, this is Tia cama Mama? Tia cama Papa or Pak Supli (read : Supri) aja, Ma.”

Words I always reply with, “Iya, Honey. Today is Mama, right? It's okay, ‘kan?”

Then while playing his tiny finger, he usually muttered.

“But Papa said, Mama *cuka*mistake way.”

If I've heard this, I usually immediately reach out and pinch my pretty cheek.

“So Tia doesn't want to be with Mama, huh? Mama down ya?”

The never-failing move because of my daughter will definitely smile right away and pull my hands gently.

And then we would spend the minutes on the street singing and laughing together.

Although I often make the wrong turn or choose the wrong route, but all that is not a problem.

Because I've been spending time with my daughter.

Because I managed to get my daughter to her destination.

My daughter.

Judistia Jyotika Wibowo. The Wibowo family sunlight.

My light.

...

　

　

My car drove smoothly on the streets of Bandung.

Illuminated by the twilight shade, I drove without direction.

I need to get home quick.

There are student assignments and store financial reports that I have to check before nightfall.

But I don't want to go home that fast. Notnot now. Not today.

Today I want to get lost.

Want to get lost as far as possible until you can't go back.

Wanted to get lost as far as possible until I forgot how to get back.

　

The ringing mixed with shakes called out loud from the passenger seat, breaking through my reverie filled with memories.

I took a quick glance and found Windra's name there.

Tightening the grip on the steering wheel, I stepped on the gas pedal a little deeper.

I don't want to lift it. It never will. Would never want to.

　

　

“Halo?”

Tartly.

“What?”

Breathless.

“Wi, don't ketus so dong. I ‘kan just wanted to ask you how you are doing. What are you doing? Already eaten?”

I grunt with irony.

“Why do you care anyway, Win? You didn’t care then. This stale base for what exactly?”

Tired, he answered.

“Goddess, please. Why are you always the one who hates me? I just want..”

No matter what he wanted to say, I disconnected the phone and threw the phone at the side seat.

　

That was Windra. Her full name is Rawindra Santosa Wibowo.

My husband's.

...

Corrections. Ex-husband.

Like hate, Win? You’re wrong.

I really hate you.

I hated the cowardly men who left me, one day after our only daughter was called God.

Until I die, I will never forgive him.