“At some point in our lives, we need to be reminded of our purpose of being in this world.” Je thought of that in between his coffee at a food stall.
Je’s memory went back to exactly thirty minutes ago while he was sitting in a smelly bus next to an old man whose smell was such a competitor. That old man started a conversation and Je thought that it was a very bad time to do that.
“Where are you going, young man?”
“What a very ordinary way to start a conversation. It is a proof of eastern—winning life value—hospitality a.k.a being nosy about others’ business.” Je thought.
“Bogor, Sir. Almost arrived.”
“Aaaah,…same here. You live in Bogor?”
“It was late at eleven and I looked all tired after a day’s work and he thought I lived somewhere else!” Je thought.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Aaaah, I live there, too. Whereabouts, young man?”
And there Je went explaining the city’s dirty part where all of his problems dwelled.
“You look sad. What happened, young man?”
Je was about to answer “nothing” but he thought that old man figured that as a way to end the conversation and he looked as if he hadn’t wanted that to happen so he directly left his question and moved on to his next sentences.
“I had a son looking just like you.” He reached his pocket and took out his wallet that was probably born in the year he was, too. His right fingers struggled and succeeded in taking out a photograph that was seriously torn.
“Look. There I was…he was…” He pointed at a young man. I looked like that when I was young. I bet you can still see our resemblance behind all these wrinkles I have now.”
He coughed…a kind of cough that cleaned up your whole lungs.
“Smokers!” Je thought. “Probably drunker, too. What’s the connection between his resemblance and his son and me?”
“Meaning we look like each other, son. Look at me. Look at me and what’s hiding behind my ever growing beard.”
Je did what he was told. But he didn’t try hard. Why should he?
“Why should I?” Je thought. He smiled a forced smile.
“Ooo…those goooood oooold days!”
“It’s 2010.” Je thought.
“I used to hate my parents a lot.”
Je thought of that as at least one thing they had in common. Je hated his dad.
“It’s my dad.” That old man said.
“A mind reader possibly?” Je thought.
“Different opinions all the time?” Je asked.
“In any ways, young man. In any ways.” He said emotionally.
Je’s thought went to his bag. Inside, there was a solution for his problem.
“World wasn’t big enough for both of us, really. That mother fu…, well,” the old man coughed “I couldn’t think of any better way to describe that old rag, really. But I guess my age a man should really watch his language.”
“You’re afraid of saying “mother fucker”?”
“Hahahaha,”He coughed.”Hahahaha. There you go. You young man have privileges to say anything, really. Don’t we all miss the days when we were young?”
“I’m still young.” Je thought.
“Young and free that is.”That old man looked straight at the side of Je and said in a fast and non-stop way like it was the last time he met Je: “Free from anything really. You can breathe, stretch, you can be close to the ones you love—that gal with pony tail—to work, to marry, to come back from work and be the man of the house. Forget whatever plan you have made tonight and spare me those moments.”
Je turned to him. He looked at the old man deep in the eye.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
Je was in shock since he looked at the two eyes that told a lot about him. He shook his head slowly. That old man trembled and said:
“I lost my youth because I stabbed that bastard in the stomach.”
That old man stood up, left Je, walked to the front of the bus, stood by the door, turned to Je for a while who was shivering and standing up from his seat. He jumped out of the bus.
It took Je about an hour to figure all things out. But it only took him ten minutes to reach inside his bag and threw away a pack of poison to the bushes across the street. He went inside a place for cups of coffee…lots of them.
--Je--
June 19, 2010 at 8:26 AM
What makes one a good parent?
Having a bad parent, that is.
What makes one a considerate parent?
Having an annoying parent, that is.
(DM in an attempt to forgive somebody she was not supposed to get mad at. Today.)
June 19, 2010 at 10:23 AM
Mariskova: ok. Ok. No follow up comment then.
June 20, 2010 at 9:10 AM
Daff: Serem ya? Cup Cup Cup...
Hehehe.
June 20, 2010 at 10:05 PM
sampe basah ni dikecup. :-)
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