tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68906522024-03-24T01:13:29.527+07:00According to meThe world according to me.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.comBlogger283125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-75653497127933073882016-12-15T14:24:00.000+07:002016-12-15T14:24:06.214+07:00my spirit animalA rather surrealistic conversation with my kiddo:<br />
<br />
Kiddo (K): ma, what's your spiritual animal?<br />
Mom (M): dragon<br />
K: nope, I mean a real animal, not a mythical one.<br />
M: dragon.<br />
K: MAA... a real one.<br />
M: well, dragons are real to me. But if you insist, it's scorpion, then.<br />
K: ma, why do your animals have to be the mean ones?<br />
M: 'coz I like to be deadly, rather than cute.<br />
K: why?<br />
M; dun know. Just like it. Deadly.<br />
K; ooohhkaaaayy..... (sighing under her breath), any other animal comes to your mind?<br />
M:...mhhm...wolf.<br />
K: ma??!<br />
M: well, wolf is cute, fluffy... and deadly. *grinning<br />
K: *silentSapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-5132598736564035342013-09-30T07:21:00.001+07:002013-09-30T07:21:59.035+07:00on fairies and faithone time, my youngest daughter asked me:<br />
"are fairies for real, mom?"<br />
i then looked into her eyes, into those round pools of innocence, untainted yet by the scars and wound of growing up, and saw hope and belief there.<br />
i told her, in the nicest voice i could muster:<br />
"they are real as you believe they are. they would be there as you believe they'd be there."<br />
<br />
was i lying to my child?<br />
i believe i was not.<br />
<br />
faith is something you believe that gives you hope.<br />
<br />
for my youngest daughter, now 8, fairies are the sources of all the good things in life.<br />
they are the sources of her smile at night, the sources of the safety that she feels.<br />
should i destroy that?<br />
i don't think so.<br />
<br />
there will be time she'd come to know the more complicated work of the world<br />
but as for now, i'd just let her belief in fairies.<br />
<br />
and who knows, perhaps they are for real.<br />
we just could not see and feel them because we have ceased to have faith in them.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-89910572377451275892013-04-30T14:43:00.002+07:002013-04-30T14:43:31.824+07:00realization smacking you in the facesebuah percakapan di malam hari:<br />
<br />
+ dek, cermin ini bikin orang jadi lebar ya?<br />
- engga ma. klo pinggirannya iya.<br />
+ ah masak? kok mama jadi ndut banget gitu? emang mama kayak gitu?<br />
- lah, mama emang begitu.<br />
+ ah? coba kamu sini dek, berdiri deket mama.<br />
(mama berdiri dengan si adek di sampingnya. tidak tampak ada 'efek khusus' dengan bayangan adek di cermin)<br />
+ hm...<br />
+ jadi mama emang gendut begitu ya dek?<br />
- ya iya sih. tapi aku seneng mama begitu. asal jangan makin ajah.<br />
+ .....Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-48102856908861775412013-04-23T16:43:00.002+07:002013-04-23T16:43:48.490+07:00djegardah<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">sunny afternoon, </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">in a city full of dust. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">wonder how they dance, </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">those people suffocating with dirt? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">(sore cerah di jakarta, april 23 tahun 2013)</span></span>Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-59352885269077498232013-04-23T11:31:00.002+07:002013-04-23T16:44:02.520+07:00a room between your heartbeats<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">there's a room</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">between your heartbeats</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">where my soul resides</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">and as you die</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">it dies</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">(thinking so deeply about my dearest hubby)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">(Jakarta, in my own space and time, AD 2013 on the twenty-third day of April)</span>Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-6569657798125879292013-04-23T11:09:00.000+07:002013-04-23T11:09:13.251+07:00(un)burning bridgeswhen i walked away from the things in the past, i thot that whatever connection i had with it is severed.<br />
like burning bridges. you can no longer reach the place, though it's still there.<br />
this is what my thinking was, about 15 years ago when i left my first job.<br />
it's finished. the book is closed. people will forget me as i forget them.<br />
my life was moving forward, and they would not be part of it.<br />
<br />
how so wrong i was.<br />
<br />
past is not something you can ditch, even when the bridge is no longer there.<br />
it is very much still there.<br />
some people don't simply forget you, as when your life and their live collided, you made yourself part of their life. whether you are a significant part of it or not, it's irrelevant. you were there, being a part of their vast reference of life.<br />
<br />
this is a realization that came to me just recently, when someone from the past was looking for me.<br />
i thot first, something is happening to him. something not quite good. why else would he be looking for me.<br />
turned out, it was for the memory's sake. for the past. that i made it part of his life.<br />
and that i should not run away but be part of his present too, albeit in a very dim way.<br />
<br />
so now i'm unburning my bridges. trying to reach those distant place.<br />
because what was there made me what i am today.<br />
what i met there is part of my life reference today.<br />
<br />
and you know what? it always made my day to know that people remember me.<br />
<br />
so perhaps it would make their day if i remember them, too.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-47247876281837517842013-04-23T10:35:00.004+07:002013-04-23T10:35:57.140+07:00everyday brutalityliving in jakarta, you are bound to face brutality.<br />
have an open mind when referring to the word 'brutality' or 'brutal' in this entry, dear readers.<br />
<br />
it's a brutal city, jakarta is.<br />
<br />
picture this:<br />
if you are a driver or passenger of a personal car, in the peak hours, you'd need 1 hour to cover a mere 4 km. that's the speed of regular healthy people walking. WALKING!<br />
that's one brutality<br />
<br />
if you are a rider or passenger of motorcycle, you are bound to have to compete with busses spewing deadly and poisonous smoke. you'd slowly have your brained fried and your lungs toasted.<br />
that's another brutality.<br />
<br />
if you are a passenger of a public transport modes, your list of brutality would just be awesome.<br />
it starts with the brutality of walking on the non-existent side-walk, or trotoir.<br />
even when it exists, the space that should be used by pedestrian is taken by either street vendors, or motorcyclists.<br />
even when it exists and NOT taken over by street vendors nor motorcyclists, i bet more often than not, you still cannot walk on it due to: holes, uneven surface, pots of plants, trees, or what have you. <br />
and once you actually lodge your butt on the seat of the public transport, it's yet another brutality: either the seat is too small, the one next to you is too big or sits with legs apart, or if it's not both then at least it would be grimy beyond help.<br />
and i just start with the seat. lemme walk you through the interior of our public buses (non-trans jakarta, mind you). it would either be plagued by rusts, or decorated with holes. and it would definitely adorned with rubbish. the driver of this fascinating ride machine would be a reckless, harsh brute who has no concern with passengers what-so-ever. all he's after is the meager 2000 rupiahs that we hand over to another brute, the conductor. riding in a public bus in jakarta is bound to make you more spiritual, what with all the prayer you send to heaven to keep you arriving safely at home, or at least to not contact any contagious illness in the bus, or not the be rained down when it's raining out there due to the many holes on the roof. put simply: brutal.<br />
<br />
and let's move on the only mass transport available for commuters: the TRAIN. THE train. commuter train. my experience with that beast is somewhat limited, but i've got my share of brutality alright. the fact that it's always jammed packed beyond its maximum capacity is common knowledge. the fact that despite THAT fact it is still favored by people commuting from depok/bogor is also a common knowledge. the fact that you may get your feet crushed, your head banged, your arms twisted, and whatever belongings you have in your bag squashed is, perhaps, not so common knowledge. and the ultimate fact that trying to get into a carriage in rush hour is a brutality similar to gladiator's arena is, well, you just gotta have to try it to know it.<br />
<br />
the above are only a tiny examples of how brutal jakarta is.<br />
i am clueless on what life would be for those without money or means. forget about getting into a train. they don't have even enough money even to eat.<br />
<br />
so let's stop at just that. and be thankful that on every and each single day, we survive brutality with more or less our sanity intact.<br />
<br />
live long and prosper!Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-10779530930376917272013-03-26T15:42:00.002+07:002013-03-26T15:42:27.917+07:00norwegian woods - the pain, the lossi just finished reading norwegian wood by haruki murakami.<br />
it gets to me. the prose, the story, the pain, all the losses.<br />
i never imagined that growing up could be so heart breaking.<br />
<br />
i could not recall the pain growing up.<br />
not when i was 17 to early 20's<br />
perhaps it was a period too insignificant to me<br />
or perhaps my memory simply failed me<br />
<br />
or perhaps, my memory refused to remember<br />
maybe that's why the book gets to me,<br />
coz the loneliness resonates with me<br />
<br />
i was never an okay person. i suppose.<br />
i was living in this glass cube, so ever delicate<br />
but you couldn't see me that way, delicate<br />
you saw a fierce young lady, temperamental,<br />
almost fearless, and a bit of a loner<br />
a lady with her own way of thinking, of handling things,<br />
her own way of looking at things<br />
a quite beautiful lady, in fact, oblivious to her own beauty<br />
<br />
i grew up thinking myself so ordinary, and yet so out of synch<br />
i get alone by choice, always preferring solitude to crowd<br />
i could only manage small group, when my audience was 2 people, max<br />
more than that, i'd disappear into the back ground.<br />
<br />
i was always scared of being wrong, for not being able to conform enough<br />
while at the same time i cling to the uniqueness in me, that i shall bow to no consensus<br />
being with people actually scared me.<br />
<br />
so that was it, i guess, the core of me growing up<br />
so insecure, so timid, and yet putting up a brave front<br />
a storm of doubts within, headstrong without<br />
i wonder if i had succeeded in fooling myself more than i fooled people<br />
<br />
no one, taking a look at me, would ever thought for a second<br />
that i lack confidence<br />
but that was who i was growing up<br />
lacking self confidence:<br />
confidence that was fragile like butterfly wings<br />
shattered at the slight of wrong touch, elusive all the times<br />
<br />
isn't it good, norwegian wood?<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-17041475272006199892013-03-06T08:41:00.003+07:002013-03-06T08:41:27.934+07:00mutant antsi truly believe those ants in our home are mutants.<br />
need some proofs?<br />
<br />
here's some:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>they can eat through plastic</li>
<li>they can eat their way through the rubber insulation of a jar</li>
</ol>
<div>
examples:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>most snacks are packed in plastic bags. more 'modern' snacks may be packed in aluminium paper. so far, the metal ones are found to be intact. but the plastic ones? nope. we put our snacks in a cupboard. those snacks were still neatly and (supposedly) safely contained in their plastic packaging. lo and behold! when we open them, ants were all over the snacks; some package we opened even contained a sort of dust nest. yikes. but awesome as well. in their bid for survival, they've managed to evolve (no, mutate would be a more appropriate word. evolution needs a very long time, mutation does not) from munchers of all things natural to munchers of whatever. let's hope their mutation does not continue to munch all things metal, too. </li>
<li>we were content in our thaugt that glass jars with their rubber insulated metal cap are safe from this fascinating creatures. we were so wrong. we opened a jar of peanut butter, neatly contained in glass jar and (supposedly) securely topped with screwed-on rubber insulated metal cap. and there we found ants. swarm of them. happily trodding on the oily surface of peanut butter. close look reveals that there are paths in the rubber insulation where the ants have munched their way. clever creatures!</li>
</ul>
<div>
so, that left us with how to keep our snacks safe from them. lock-n-lock is one way. so now i'm a big fan of their products, and pour whatever snacks that come in plastic bags into them. they are safe. </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
for now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
hope they don't mutate enough to become lock-n-lock munchers. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
'we are ants. resistance is futile'</div>
Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-76768417669808701902013-02-19T12:23:00.000+07:002013-02-19T12:23:09.567+07:00a vacation called medical leavenobody wants to get sick. it's sickening to get sick. it's tiring, and definitely uncomfortable.<br />
and for a mega lover of comfort like me, being uncomfortable is enough to make sick sicker.<br />
<br />
and yet.. I just 'enjoyed' a long sick leave that felt almost like a holiday. [this was in november, actually]<br />
<br />
it started with diarrhea. not a pretty condition - a condition that one would rather hide than tell.<br />
i got it for three days before i saw a doctor. she gave me anti-biotic and diarrhea stopper. it did not work.<br />
after another three day, i saw another doctor, a specialist. he gave me stronger medicine and diarrhea stopper. i was getting worse.<br />
on the third day of this stronger medicine, i started vomiting. i saw that doctor again. i lost 1 kg in 3 days. i was barely eating, and i started to feel cramps in my leg. he told me to be hospitalized.<br />
<br />
and thus the medical holiday began. i checked in a VIP room due to the Class 1 was full.<br />
i was hooked on IV drips. bombed with IV-ed heavy medicine. saturated with potent anti-nausea that was used on cancer patient.<br />
going yet another 3 days and i still had them: those nasty diarrhea, vomiting, plus rumbling stomach.<br />
<br />
okay, that baffled the doctor. he proposed endoscopy and... (forgot what it's called), as to be able to see the whole of my digestive system. but then, he poked my stomach again. and then we found it: appendicitis.<br />
<br />
how funny was that? that lengthy Gastroenteritis turned out to be chronic (and acute) appendicitis.<br />
so, more examination followed, including the 'barium-contrast x-ray' that I avoided. yep, appendicitis it was.<br />
so then i have may laparascopic appendicitis.<br />
<br />
how could that be called a holiday?<br />
this is how: coz by staying for 8 days in hospital, i had my escape from the office work. there was a lot of me-time. i am a master of doing nothing, and when i was hospitalized, there were a lot of moments of doing nothing.<br />
<br />
okay, honest be told, staying in hospital is no holiday. in holiday, you won't be woken up in the middle of the night to have your dose of medicine, despite it's being put into the IV drips. you don't got poked every day by doctors (yeah, since it was found that i got appendicitis, i was handled by 2 doctors). you don't wake up feeling a mix of emotions as the one next door was literally howling in pain. and you don't get to see people rushing as someone condition worsened and they reeled him into the ICU. nope.<br />
<br />
but yeah, there were some perks, too, like the heated operation theater bed, the heated blanket for post-operation, the bed that can electronically be lowered and adjusted, and the choice you were offered for your meals.<br />
<br />
and as in all vacation, sometimes you'd rather not know how much you pay in the end. insurance covers some, but not all. cross my fingers i'm not breaking my banks for this.<br />
<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-21578680212664584592013-02-18T14:12:00.001+07:002013-02-18T14:12:15.730+07:00adab yang tak teraihsaya pikir, dengan makin beragamanya orang, makin bermoral lah manusia, dan makin baiklah akhlaknya<br />
<br />
saya salah, rasanya<br />
<br />
mesjid yang semakin banyak berdiri, bahkan sepertinya di jakarta setiap RT punya mesjid sendiri, tak juga membuat orang lebih baik. lebih baik bagi saya diartikan dengan lebih menjaga perasaan orang lain, lebih membantu orang lain, lebih bersikap sopan pada orang lain, dan mengakui serta menghormati keberadaan orang lain. orang yang lain dengan mereka, orang yang lain dengan kita.<br />
<br />
yang kasat mata adalah toleransi yang menurun, pemaksaan yang meningkat, ancaman2 baik halus maupun terang2an yang makin merajalela, dan moral yang tak juga membaik, serta kesopanan yang luntur.<br />
<br />
hal2 sederhana seperti menjaga kebersihan (= menghormati diri sendiri dan orang lain), mengantri dengan baik (= menghargai hak orang yang sudah lebih dulu datang dari kita), mengucapkan terima kasih, meminta maaf, mengucap 'permisi' adalah hal yg tidak cukup seksi untuk diajarkan di mesjid2. tidak glamor, tidak megah. menaati peraturan yang dibuat manusia demi keamanan dan kenyamanan bersama nampaknya tidak menjadi prioritas, peraturan Tuhan saja yang perlu.<br />
<br />
apakah lupa bahwa sebelum bertemu Tuhan, kita hidup bersanding dengan sesama?<br />
<br />
tentu salah berkata bahwa semua orang seperti itu<br />
tentunya banyak yang betul2 baik dan betul2 apik dalam bersikap<br />
tapi hari ini saya memutuskan pesimis dan berkata: orang2 seperti itu semakin dikit jumlahnya, dan semakin tak terlihat.<br />
<br />
dan negeri ini akan semakin tak beradab.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-78980845387027690962012-10-03T13:00:00.000+07:002012-10-03T13:00:00.643+07:00a big kidsome years ago, when my boss was asked to describe me by one of our colleagues in not-so-distant place, he told her: 'she's like a big kid. she talks to people just like that, regardless of who they are'.<br />
<br />
i was not sure whether to take it as a compliment or to see it as something that i needed to work on in my personality.<br />
<br />
yeah, sure. i still look and behave, perhaps, like a big kid.<br />
i am not quite competent at hiding my feelings, nor to talk 'nicely'.<br />
i show my feelings, and talk my feelings out. no pretense. no icing.<br />
<br />
i'm easily got happy or excited about something as easily as i got anxious about something<br />
you don't have to elaborate on the things that make me happy, coz i would just tell you. easy, huh?<br />
same with things i don't like. it's no quiz at all. i'll tell you right away.<br />
don't try to surprise me too much. i'm not too good with pretending i like it when i don't. so the surprise would then be yours. my loving husband, with all his good intentions, is a living testimony to that. bless his nice soul and his endevour to always make me happy.<br />
<br />
so it's a puzzle to me why people's relations have to be so complicated<br />
you say things nicely about something while you only mean less than half of it<br />
you put up polite face while your heart is seething and your brain is protesting<br />
you smile at things you don't like and comment as if it's the most facinating things you've ever seen<br />
you make an elaborate paremeter of what makes you happy. you measure your succes, your wealth, how your kids are in school, what your bag (and its brand) is holding.<br />
<br />
i just want to be happy. simply happy.<br />
kiddy happy. when i want A and i got A. when I want love and I have love.<br />
when I don't care about what others are having, coz they are not relevant to me.<br />
no, i won't trade that kid in me for anything. coz I am happy.<br />
<br />
and the next time you think i'm too frank... well i'm frank.<br />
if you need sugar-laced truth, talk to someone else.<br />
<br />
/live happy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-15087404085509478262012-09-14T07:47:00.002+07:002012-09-14T07:47:15.468+07:00bilingualsekolah2 endonesa, terutama yang di jakarta, nampaknya lagi 'keblinger' dengan tema bilingual.<br />
di sekolah2 rsbi (rintisan sekolah bertaraf [berstandar?] internasional) dijanjikan kelas2 pelajaran tertentu bilingual. dikebutlah pendidikan guru2 untuk bisa berbahasa inggris. atau dipanggillah 'native' untuk memberikan kelas tambahan. jangan salah, 'native' kadang2 bisa saja orang filipina. dan kurang jelas juga apakah beliau ini punya sertifikasi ESL (english as second language) dan bukan sekedar EFL (english as foreign language).<br />
<br />
saya ga mo panjang2 ttg rsbi. yang mo saya bahas konsep bilingual.<br />
<br />
orang endosa seharusnya bangga. terlahir sebagai orang endonesa, pada umumnya kita brojol memasuki dunia yang sudah bilingual. eits, jangan protes dulu. dipikir bilingual itu berarti bahasa endonesa dan bahasa inggris saja? salah besar.....<br />
<br />
menurut webster dictionary online, salah satu definisi bilingual adalah:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">using or able to use two languages especially with equal fluency</span><br />
yang artinya mampu menggunakan dua bahasa dengan sama fasihnya<br />
<br />
dipikir orang2 sunda yang lahir di bandung dan sehari2 berbahasa sunda dengan orang rumah, dan berbahasa endonesa di sekolah ga bilingual? dipikir orang2 jawa hari2nya berbahasa jawa (dengan segala dialeknya) dan berbahasa endonesa di lingkup formal ga bilingual? dst.......<br />
<br />
saya juga baru sadar akan hal ini, saat hadir di suatu pertemuan yang dihadiri penerjemah dan pemerhati bahasa. ada yang bilang, kurang lebih: orang 'bule' itu iri dengan kita, sebetulnya, karena banyak dari kita yang bilingual dari kecil.<br />
<br />
nah.<br />
<br />
masih keblinger dengan bilingual? ga usahlah. wong dengan belajar bahasa asing tambahan ternyata orang endonesa itu sudah jadi trilingual.<br />
<br />
salam.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-70809231863967708722012-09-10T14:10:00.002+07:002012-09-10T14:10:36.299+07:00emang dasar niat gampang lunturbegitulah saya<br />
janjinya mo nulis tiap hari<br />
hm<br />
<br />
janjinya ditawar jadi nulis seminggu dua kali<br />
hm<br />
<br />
ditawar lagi jadi seminggu sekali<br />
hm?<br />
<br />
dan kenyataannya hanya nulis klo mood ajah<br />
<br />
sebetulnya<br />
nulis itu terapi juga<br />
ya, sesi curhat pribadi lah<br />
tanpa audiens yang jelas<br />
<br />
sukur ada yang baca<br />
(MAUnya ada yang baca)<br />
engga juga gapapa<br />
(gapapa itu klo hati saya lagi damai)<br />
<br />
begitulah sayaSapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-84622865192270000652012-05-28T13:15:00.000+07:002012-05-28T13:15:30.106+07:00on being twinsapa rasanya jadi anak kembar dua (twins)?<br />
berbagi tempat di dunia dengan seorang lainnya bahkan sebelum lahir?<br />
dan hampir selalu ada saja yang bertanya 'kembar ya'? <br />
dan selalu dianggap hanya separo dari suatu pasangan? <br />
<br />
anak2 kembarku berusia 11 tahun hari ini.<br />
menuruti saran dari buku2 (dan menuruti perasaan hatiku juga)<br />
aku mengarahkan mereka menjadi dua individu yang berbeda:<br />
tidak ada baju kembar, kecuali seragam<br />
tidak ada sepatu kembar (oke - kebetulan sepatu mereka kembar yg sekarang ini)<br />
tidak ada piring, alat makan, alat tulis, kembar<br />
mereka adalah 2 anak yang kebetulan berbagi rahim<br />
<br />
hasilnya?<br />
pada ulang tahun ke-11 ini, dan seperti ulang tahun sebelum ini<br />
aku terpaksa membeli 2 kue yang berbeda<br />
satu untuk tiap individu unik itu<br />
hanya sekali pernah mereka berbagi kue, <br />
saat merayakan ulang tahun ke-5 di TK<br />
<br />
on being parent of twins<br />
<br />
rasanya? tak terkatakan<br />
unik. spesial. senang. <br />
menjadi sekian persen orangtua yang berbeda dari yang lain.<br />
<br />
repot setengah mati waktu masih menyusui<br />
cape luar biasa waktu masih batita<br />
senang saat mereka sudah mulai mandiri<br />
dan bersukur karena mereka anak2 yang sehat<br />
dan bahagia *semoga selalu bahagia<br />
<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-49089450120407721022012-05-25T16:19:00.001+07:002012-05-25T16:19:50.589+07:00the death of usthis would not be an easy topic to read, nor to write<br />
death is something that most living people would rather not talk about, pretending that it would happen long time from now, definitely not today, and not tomorrow either.<br />
<br />
a fatal aviation accident, and some comments regarding those who 'survived', have prompted me to write this. one article put an article titled 'miracle does not come twice' on someone who 'survived' an accident years ago but 'failed' to 'survive' this one. <br />
'survived' here means fate had it that those people were spared the journey and thus the death<br />
<br />
when people 'survived' while others did not, those who were spared said it was a miracle, or being so lucky, and were thankful for it. i was thinking of those who were not spared, who were seen as if they were handed down with bad luck.<br />
<br />
those who believe in God should never think that way.<br />
God has our life's master plan and God alone knows how and when we die. so those spared was not spared. it was simply not their time yet.<br />
<br />
we will get there someday, with way we cannot predict. it's not good luck, it's not bad luck. it's simply that our time has come.<br />
<br />
live, reader, while you're still living!Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-11015409000526521682012-05-24T13:15:00.000+07:002012-05-24T13:15:21.100+07:00knock knocksomeone is knocking on my door today<br />
asking how am I doing <br />
am doing quite well, actually<br />
<br />
today things started quite the same<br />
though not absolutely the same<br />
it was quite an early start<br />
with one of the girls off to her trip<br />
before we were all awaken today<br />
<br />
then the routine began<br />
of waking the girls up<br />
of the little quarrel before bathtime<br />
of the constant 'it's so and so hour, you must hurrry'<br />
<br />
and off we went<br />
me with the driver, sending the girls to school<br />
which was not exactly routine<br />
routine would be <br />
the daddy taking all the gals to school<br />
mommy with driver to office<br />
<br />
so, yeah<br />
i'm quite okay<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-18030070378142180642012-04-13T14:41:00.001+07:002012-04-13T14:41:52.786+07:00whoa, warped time!uh oh, my last posting was march 9. <br />
that was like more than a month ago.<br />
where have I been?<br />
no where. just here. but no here either.<br />
<br />
see how time flies without we noticing it? like USS Enterprise in warped speed. <br />
i looked at my diary today. so many empty pages. <br />
scarry.<br />
<br />
did I not do something? feel something? gain something? lose something? <br />
so why the empty pages? <br />
is this simply laziness to write, or daily live has lost its significance?<br />
<br />
what happens to enjoy life to the fullest; carpe diem; life is too short, why bother?<br />
what happens to those sparks in my mind that i used to have; those slivers of rainbow; those funny/weird/simple ideas that used to pops up?<br />
<br />
or in this journey we call life, are we so used to warped speed that everything just goes by?<br />
journey is not something that we enjoy in itself, and only the destination is important?<br />
<br />
should not be like that.<br />
<br />
i need to slow down and look at the scenery as they go pass my window again.<br />
and to fill those pages. <br />
<br />
not one day is trully empty.<br />
<br />
live. love. laugh!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-67923333135543612592012-03-09T13:03:00.000+07:002012-03-09T13:03:43.568+07:00the right or wrong of itwho decides what's right? or wrong?<br />
in some company, what's right or wrong is defined by an ethics committee. they would then issue the 'code of conduct', a set of behaviour that is mandatory for employees to follow. then that code of conduct would be used as based for all the policies, procedures, etc that the company is making. <br />
<br />
who controls the ethic committee? someone higher. but who's higher than the ethic committee?<br />
alas, they are human, too. bound to make mistakes. how do you become part of something that is 'pure and correct'? you cannot.<br />
<br />
so who decides what's right or wrong?<br />
people whose conciousness are expected to be pure, whose moral bearing are pointing to the right direction. people who look at history, look at current affairs, and look at what might be happening in the future, and try to make sense of it all, and define what's proper and not. <br />
<br />
moral values are something that are accepted and agreed upon by the general public. that's why different groups have different values. and that's why different eras have different ideas, too. how do you define the universal values to guide all the general public out there?<br />
<br />
some ideas are universal: integrity, honesty, compassion to others, respect to other beings, respect to people set of beliefs. those are what i can remember at this moment.<br />
<br />
then again, different groups still have different interpretation of how those words are define. how compassion is compassionate enough? how much respect is respect enough? how much freedom is freedom enough?<br />
<br />
world is never can be generalized into the black or white of it, not the right or wrong of it. there's always something in between, and other colors too. <br />
<br />
in my own person, my idea is: your freedom is yours; you are free to do whatever it is you want to do and be whatever it is you want to become - as long as your freedom does not rob others of theirs and that what you do does not harm you/others, and certainly not breaking the law. <br />
<br />
the law. the right or wrong of it, created by flawed human.<br />
<br />
back to square one!Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-22415449179471327582012-03-05T11:42:00.000+07:002012-03-05T11:42:05.539+07:00the girl who plays slenthem and kicks buttsshe's kinda tomboy: liking jeans and shirts more than girly attire; making friends with lots of boys and some girls, too. her sport is taekwondo, and she just won her gold medal yesterday, and a trophy for 'best pre-junior female athlete'.<br />
<br />
before yesterday, about a month ago, and a month prior to that day, she was so keen on rehearsing for the karawitan concert, where she played the 'slenthem'. slenthem is a kind of 'bass' instrument in the gamelan orchestra. slenthem is played by one player only in the whole orchestra, and she reigned. <br />
<br />
she's my girl. the girl who loves both the soothing and almost meditating 'hammering' of gamelan instruments, and the fiercess of kicking your oponent's arse in a tournament. she is both part of a harmony, and a single fighter. <br />
<br />
mom is so happy for you.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-20460695773970235432012-02-28T11:46:00.002+07:002012-02-28T11:46:50.309+07:00experience is what you get if you don't get what you expectwe live with routines, whether we like it or not<br />
those routines sometimes define us: what we are, who we are. <br />
they are like a set of identities that we relate ourself to.<br />
routines can be our work or our profession or our role in personal life<br />
with routines, we almost expect things would be placid,<br />
without much surprises, and one there is, it would be small ripple <br />
and not a blasting waves<br />
<br />
i've got my ripple today. not so big, but quite annoying<br />
a ripple that gets bigger by the time it reaches my heart's shore.<br />
you know how waves are, they may got amplified, or diminished, <br />
depending on what they encounter as the pass<br />
<br />
i guess with me, things tend to be amplified instead of being diminished<br />
<br />
so, thing happened that i did not expect<br />
thing that juggles my routines<br />
thing that makes my balance wobbly<br />
<br />
i told someone that<br />
and that someone told me<br />
'take it as an experience'<br />
'an experience is something you get<br />
when you got things you don't expect'<br />
<br />
wise words<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-78696524885100552932012-01-30T13:04:00.000+07:002012-01-30T13:04:27.698+07:00clash of the titans (rafa vs nole, australian open 2012)what makes a champion?<br />
what makes greatness? <br />
watching the australian open, you'd get the idea.<br />
okay, what makes greatness sounds too close to the rolex advert, presenting federer, who happened to be stopped in semi final by rafa. <br />
<br />
champion of the 2012 men single was Novak Djokovic, as we know it. <br />
<br />
i think there's no adjective that can sufficiently represent the drama that played for almost 6 (yes, six) hours of the battle of those two: rafa and nole. <br />
it's like watching super human. or perhaps semi-gods. or maybe titans? <br />
<br />
no 'normal' person would stand playing with such ferocity, such power, such relentlessness, for 6 hours non-stop. 6 bleeping hours.<br />
this was my 6 hours: i watched parts of first and second set, then i switched channel, then i (we) went to a wedding reception, and back again. the play was still on. <br />
<br />
no 'normal' person could endure for so long with so much pain and exhaustion, combating frustation, trying to keep focus; no 'normal' person could maintain their physical and mental sanity for so long a beating. they are not normal. <br />
<br />
watching them, i think we are reminded that, in rare moments, human race has their champions, indeed. that not all is about money (oh, yes, they are paid dearly, but the bucks were no longer the reason). that hope is afloat, in several of them titans, that just won't give up. not for anything. <br />
<br />
pick up your titan today, and be inspired by them.<br />
<br />
i know i've found mine.Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-7045198331221901642012-01-27T13:35:00.000+07:002012-01-27T13:35:00.847+07:00lagu patah hati yang sebenar2nya: someone like youseberapa banyak dari kita pernah merasakan?<br />
aku, untungnya, ga pernah. atau justru rugi? <br />
<br />
love is the power of life. and it's the death of life, too.<br />
love moves mountains. but it ruined kingdoms, too.<br />
love is the most brilliant emotion. and it's render us stupid beyond any reason.<br />
<br />
'sometimes it last in love but sometimes it hurts instead'<br />
yeah<br />
<br />
<em>Someone like you - Adele</em><br />
<br />
<em>I heard</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>That you're settled down</em><br />
<em>That you</em><br />
<em>Found a girl</em><br />
<em>And you're</em><br />
<em>Married now</em><br />
<br />
<em>I heard</em><br />
<em>That your dreams came true.</em><br />
<em>Guess she gave you things</em><br />
<em>I didn't give to you</em><br />
<br />
<em>Old friend</em><br />
<em>Why are you so shy?</em><br />
<em>Ain't like you to hold back</em><br />
<em>Or hide from the light</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited</em><br />
<em>But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.</em><br />
<em>I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded</em><br />
<em>That for me it isn't over</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>Never mind</em><br />
<em>I'll find someone like you</em><br />
<em>I wish nothing but the best for you too</em><br />
<em>"Don't forget me," I begged</em><br />
<em>"I'll remember," you said</em><br />
<em>"Sometimes it lasts in love</em><br />
<em>But sometimes it hurts instead."</em><br />
<em>Sometimes it lasts in love</em><br />
<em>But sometimes it hurts instead,</em><br />
<em>Yeah.</em><br />
<br />
<em>You know how the time flies</em><br />
<em>Only yesterday</em><br />
<em>It was the time of our lives</em><br />
<em>We were born and raised</em><br />
<em>In a summer haze</em><br />
<em>Bound by the surprise</em><br />
<em>Of our glory days</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited</em><br />
<em>But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.</em><br />
<em>I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded</em><br />
<em>That for me it isn't over.</em><br />
<br />
<em>Never mind</em><br />
<em>I'll find someone like you</em><br />
<em>I wish nothing but the best for you too</em><br />
<em>"Don't forget me," I begged</em><br />
<em>"I'll remember," you said</em><br />
<em>"Sometimes it lasts in love</em><br />
<em>But sometimes it hurts instead."</em><br />
<br />
<em>Nothing compares</em><br />
<em>No worries or cares</em><br />
<em>Regrets and mistakes</em><br />
<em>They are memories made.</em><br />
<em>Who would have known</em><br />
<em>How bittersweet this would taste?</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>Never mind</em><br />
<em>I'll find someone like you</em><br />
<em>I wish nothing but the best for you too</em><br />
<em>"Don't forget me," I begged</em><br />
<em>"I'll remember," you said</em><br />
<em>"Sometimes it lasts in love</em><br />
<em>But sometimes it hurts instead"</em><br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-56985373620521080442012-01-13T08:31:00.000+07:002012-01-13T08:31:58.324+07:00is the glass half full or half empty?This is a question I am so fed up with.<br />
<br />
People say the optimists see it half full. The pessimists see it half empty.<br />
The realist see it both, depending. I am a realist, then, I suppose.<br />
<br />
It's friggin both, depending on what you need with that half a glass of water.<br />
If your objective is to finish your drink, wouldn't you be glad to see it's half empty? Meaning you're done away with half, and you need only half to finish. <br />
If your objective is to share your drink, wouldn't it make you happy to see that it's half full, that you've half a glass to share?<br />
<br />
If you're downright thirsty and parched, wouldn't it elates you just to find any amount to ease your thirst? It may not be sufficient to quench it, but at for a time being it'll do.<br />
<br />
So stop asking how I see the glass is. It's both. And I'll bet you'd be quite okay with yourself if I decide to throw you with half a glass of water instead of a full glass of water. Glad it's half empty, huh?<br />
<br />Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6890652.post-21946748537350652402012-01-11T12:41:00.002+07:002012-01-11T12:41:34.096+07:00heavens in our lifesmall heavens are abundant in our daily life, actually. <br />
when you look hard enough. or better yet, when you let it happen to you.<br />
<br />
try picturing this in your mind:<br />
<br />
rainy day, heavy rain outside<br />
you are snuggly covered in bed<br />
entwined with someone you love<br />
the room was dim<br />
light penetrate thru the curtain<br />
<br />
ah!<br />
<br />
heaven!Sapobihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16584083503485866737noreply@blogger.com0