by Ni Komang Ariani

The wooden house with the spacious yard was very noisy. The dry leaves, swept out by the wind, rolling on the earth, smelt so sweet after the drizzle ends. That was the moment when my youngest daughter, Wardhani, would ask permission to leave to go back to her husband. The neighbours and relatives were here to say good luck and good bye.

The noisy situation was very contrary to my heart, which was very empty. My chest felt tight without clear reasons or causes. Three daughters whom I have here in my womb for nine months each, one by one has left me. Luh Wayan, my first daughter, has been married to a white man who liked the way Luh danced. Greg, that’s my son-in-law name, brought my daughter to America. A country so far away, too far to be possible for me to reach. How my first grandson looks like, I don’t even know one bit. Luh only called to give the news of her first child. A blonde-haired, plump baby son.

Then my second daughter, Made Sari, married a year later. Her husband is a journalist from Jakarta. She was also taken right away to Jakarta. She also has borne her child, a baby daughter called Dina. And then it was Wardhani’s turn, my youngest daughter. She was the only one that would live in Bali after the wedding. She still live in the same village as I do. She married a kind-hearted history teacher.

Actually I like all my son-in-laws, who always be respectful and kind to me. But that did not improve the emptiness that suddenly comes. Tomorrow, this house is will be much more silent. We, I and my husband, will live together.

My thought flew to twenty years ago, when I left my house to marry  Bli Gede. I bid farewell to Meme and Bapak, who let me go with tears in their eyes. I feel that time has just passed in the blink of an eye. That moment, too, now has also come before me. Karma happens so fast.

My children have left with long steps and eyes straight, going away without even giving a look. The future for them is a myriad of hopes and desires. The past for them is just old things and worthlessness. And in that past I exists.

Bli Gede seemed not to care. Bright smiles always on his face each time his children wed. After that, he would go back to his old habit. Caressing and playing with that  gamecock of his. It seemed the rooster has become a very dear friend. The gamecock, which once was the star of the village, now is only scraping what is left of the past glory. It has been long since the gamecock smell the spur and the rancid blood of its adversary. Now it only stoops calmly in the corner of the kitchen, looking closely at the pigeon which dances around in the yard, fighting for  the rice  grain which are scattered about.

Months and months passes, years and years goes by. The remains of energy I have has deteriorated. My hands and legs is no longer quick for a juru canang , my profession of the last twenty years. I am often more sick than healthy to work. Bli Gede slowly is losing his astuteness as a land broker. Each passing day, the money he earns become less and less. Our savings that we had prepared as our pension, slowly but surely drained for our every day’s life expense. Each time one of us got sick, our savings decreased.

In our difficult financial situation, suddenly Bli Gede brought up his wish. I want to go to Tanah Lot, Iluh. I want to enjoy green coconut ice while looking at the setting sun at the western sky. I quickly refused his wish. Going to Tanah Lot and enjoying the luxury of coconut ice at the restaurant near the cliff—too expensive for us, who are ageing. We will still have quite long life Bli, we have to have got enough money to survive. Hold your expensive wishes, I said at the time.

But my husband’s wish was very strong, like a pregnant woman who wanted very much her  green coconut ice from Tanah Lot. He repeatedly brought up his wish. Sometimes with a weak voice. Iluh, bli want to be with you there very much. Want to embrace you like our courtship. Can’t you fulfil my wish? This might be my last wish before I die.

I cried when I heard it, but I was powerless. Caressing his hunched back, I tried to make him understand. Our life and our survival is more important than your desire. Patience, Bli. We really do not have a lot of choice. He looked at me with disappointed eyes. Ask your children, Luh. They are rich enough to help us.

Ask help from the children? Hhh… perhaps there are not a law yet that forces the children to be responsible for the parents that nurse and raise them. Is it why, the children I have raised and struggle for has forgotten that they still have parents that go on living?

People says, that raising children ought to be unselfish, without expecting payback. But is it really like that? Shouldn’t I really expect my children to love me, so they will try to make me happy, like I love them  as my life. The reality that poses itself before my eyes made me stop hoping.

Not even one of my children send us money. Not our son-in-laws that were very sweet when asking the hands of my daughters, too. Not only that, they also rarely visit me. In the beginning of her married life, Wardhani visited me nearly everyday. Then it became once a week, then once a month, then only every Galungan  holiday, which is every six months, and now she only come once in a year. Made Sari, likewise. Initially, she came back every three months, then every six month, then once in a year when it is Lebaran  holiday. Now she only come back every other year, to reduce expenses. The eldest one, is the worst. Since the marriage she never come back, not even once. Initially, she often called to give news about my grandson there, but now there haven’t been any news. It has been years since she called us.

Forget them. It is said they are in difficulties themselves to cover their own household needs, which is becoming even harder these days. It is  hard for them, who doesn’t think twice to spend money excessively for their own satisfaction and for their own loved children. But not for their ageing parents. Expenditure for old things and worthlessness should be considered thoughtfully. It should be as efficient as possible. As if their own life is efficient.

Hhh.. What I should curse them for, they who were born from my own womb. Let me accept our solitude as fate that needs no reason or causes.

***

I want to sell the rooster, Luh, let it be slaughtered. I really want to go to Tanah Lot, my husband said once. For a long time I looked at him. I searched for seriousness in his eyes. I didn’t even think that he would say that, because he was very fond of the old rooster.  The gamecock was the pride of my husband. It had gone from one cockfight to another, won every fight with wounds on its body. It must win, because losing means death. The old rooster was very loyal to you. You have the heart to sell it? Bli Gede was speechless and looking confusedly  at the wings of the rooster which could be seen from afar.

But my husband’s wish to go was irresistible. After his failed plan, one day I found Bli Gede glumly opened the rooster’s cage, wrapped it under coconut leaves webbing, then hurriedly went to take it away. But something broke his plan. Perhaps my husband lost his nerve after meeting the rooster’s eyes who looked tired with its thick eye bags, and the purple droopy eyes. My husband perhaps saw himself in the rooster. The gamecock which was at the end of its life. The gamecock  would die in a short time, without the need of slaughter. His eyes looked red as if he was crying. Perhaps he was afraid to imagine the death that could come any time. The death, who sometimes doesn’t need reason for his coming. Our old age and decrepitude has been an acceptable reason. Slowly the watery drops flowed on his black, wrinkled cheek.

“O Jago , you are very fortunate to not meet your death like other gamecock, who died when the spur penetrates the heart, ripping the stomach. Died as a hero or defeated because of powerlessness!” suddenly the old man sobbed. Sometimes I heard the cry. This time tears flowed .

“Dozens of cocks like you died in defeat and powerless. Powerless to determine their own life. Forced to make the spur the only way to live. To live by the spur or die by it. Forgive me jago, I have  also made your life to be defeated and powerless. To put your life at stake every time for reasons you don’t understand. You  have told me the feeling of defeat and powerlessness now. It is very sad. I have inflicted sadness to dozens of gamecocks like you…!

Again, he cried again, choking. Silence, and again he moaned pitifully. I didn’t have the heart to leave him like that. “Why are you are like that Bli. Be calm. Tomorrow we will go to Tanah Lot and buy green coconut ice you want. I still have my saving deposit. Don’t cry like that Bli. We will die soon, but we also don’t know when it will be. It is also unclear when we must be sad for that and how long, so why don’t we just be calm!”

“You don’t know, it is not death that I fear, or my wish to go to Tanah Lot. But I really just now know how it feels, when death make us feel defeated and powerless. When decrepitude defeats us and make us powerless. I have chosen  for dozens of gamecocks  a life full of risk, with death come every now and then,  pit the against one another. Now Jago has imparting to me how it feels.”

My husband told it with bursting tears. I didn’t understand that in the body of a cockfight player—that sometimes was so harsh to his children—there was a feeling so deep. I used  to dislike seeing him go to cockfights and then killed the brawny gamecocks, although later I always enjoyed the garang asem   that he cooked. I then forgot the groaning, bleeding gamecocks who fought like knights on the battlefield.

Ah, it seems all kind of feelings are flooding when the old age comes. All remorse, weakness, fear, anxiety. Fortunately, I am never too sensitive person. The departure of my children, that I raised with much sweat, do not disturb me much. Even though I feel forgotten and left alone. Why after we are getting old we become  worthless, uninteresting, unwanted. Perhaps with the same feelings I left both my parents after marriage. With long steps, without even a look.

Oleh Ni Komang Ariani

Ingatan akan peristiwa naas itu semakin sering mengganggu Ras. Semakin banyak waktu yang ia punya, dan semakin meninggi usia kandungannya. Waktu itu,  Ras baru menamatkan Sekolah Menengahnya. Saat tanpa sengaja ia menabrak sebuah motor yang sedang membonceng perempuan yang sedang hamil besar. Ras begitu saja menyeberang padahal sebuah motor sedang melaju lurus di jalanan. Ras tak ingat betul apa yang dipikirkannya saat itu. Ia agak linglung ketika memutuskan menyeberangkan motornya. Gerakan Ras yang tiba-tiba kontan mengejutkan si pengendara motor. Motor itu berdecit berusaha mengerem lajunya, namun keburu menabrak motor yang dikendarai Ras. Stang motor Ras mengenai perut si Ibu Hamil. Ia mengerang kesakitan karenanya. Dan laki-laki si pengendara; marah besar. Orang-orang tiba berkerumun, membuat hati Ras semakin kecut.

Motor  yang membonceng si Ibu Hamil diparkirkan di seberang,  beberapa saat setelah mengenai motor Ras. Seusai memarkirkan motornya, laki-laki muda itu berjalan lebar-lebar mencari Ras. Matanya merah menahan geram. Namun rupanya laki-laki itu belum ingat betul wajah Ras. Di depan hidungnya, laki-laki itu berteriak-teriak. Mana perempuan itu? Kurang Ajar. Ras merasakan tubuhnya menggigil. Belum pernah ia menjadi tertuduh begini. Belum pernah Ras yang alim dan sopan-santun diteriaki segarang itu. Ras membiarkan bibirnya bungkam.

Setelah itu dengan muka pasi, Ras meminta maaf pada laki-laki muda itu. Ia menawarkan diri mengantar si perempuan hamil yang akan diangkut dengan mikrolet. Wajah garang si pemuda melunak, sementara si Ibu hamil hanya memandang kosong. Sesampai di rumah mereka, keluarga itu memintanya pulang saja. Si Ibu hamil baik-baik saja, kata salah satu dari mereka. Sebuah senyuman mengantarkan kepulangan Ras. Membuat himpitan keras di dadanya berkurang.

Ras menyimpan rapat-rapat ingatannya tentang Ibu Hamil yang terjatuh. Tak pernah ia ceritakan kepada siapapun. Tidak juga kepada orang tuanya, saudara-saudaranya atau teman-temannya. Bahkan sampai bertahun-tahun kemudian. Ras selalu merasa dicekam gundah bila mengingatnya. Ia merasa amat bersalah. Takut dan kecut. Ia ingin menghapus peristiwa itu dari memorinya. Ras tak mau mengingat ia pernah menjadi tertuduh yang dipandang sangat garang.  Ras ingin melupakan ia pernah membuat seorang perempuan hamil mengerang kesakitan.

**

Ras mengelus perutnya yang kini sudah berusia tujuh bulan. Dua bulan lagi seorang anak akan lahir dari rahimnya. Anak yang dalam doa-doanya selalu Ras harapkan sehat, baik dan berbahagia. Ras takkan membiarkan apapun mengancam janin yang dikandungnya. Akan ia singkirkan semua  onak  duri yang bisa mengganggu perjalanan si kecil. Ras bertekad akan mengerahkan segala upaya untuk melindungi bayi kecilnya.

Itulah yang membuat Ras menjadi sangat rewel pada tukang-tukang ojek yang menboncenginya. Ras tak bosan-bosan memberi pesan pada para tukang ojek itu. Hati-hati. Pelan-pelan ya Pak bawa motornya. Kalau ada polisi tidur direm. Jangan nyalip. Tunggu saja sampai kendaraan di depan sepi. Awas batu dan lubang-lubang ya Pak. Ceramah itu yang selalu diberikan Ras sebelum ia menghenyakkan pantatnya di atas ojek. Para tukang ojek yang sudah hafal betul dengan kebiasaan Ras ini, hanya bisa mengangguk-ngangguk pasrah, sambil menahan rasa dongkol di hati.

Walaupun sudah memberi pidato yang demikian panjang, Ras belum juga tenang menyerahkan keselamatannya dan keselamatan bayinya pada si tukang ojek. Ras selalu memandang awas pada setiap liku jalan yang dilaluinya. Ia perhatikan setiap lubang dan belokan yang akan dilewatinya. Lalu lalang orang pun tidak luput dari mata Ras. Ia perhatikan gerak setiap pengguna jalan dengan ekor matanya. Jangan-jangan ada orang linglung yang tiba-tiba menyeberang, menabrak perut buncitnya hingga ia mengaduh kesakitan. Jangan-jangan ada orang gila nyelonong melanggar ojek yang ditumpanginya dan membuat perutnya terantuk stang motor.

Suatu kali ojek yang ditumpangi Ras melaju kencang di sebuah tikungan sempit, dengan nada marah Ras menegurnya. Awas Pak, lagi bawa ibu hamil jangan sembarangan dong. Si tukang ojek menurut sambil mengucapkan maaf pada Ras. Namun si tukang ojek rupanya terbiasa memacu kencang motornya. Ia mencobamenyalip kendaraan di depannya sementara dari arah berlawanan melaju kencang motor dan mobil. Ras dibuat marah besar karenanya. Ia serta-merta  minta diturunkan. Setelah membayar ongkos ojek setengah harga, Ras meninggalkan si tukang ojek dengan bersungut-sungut.

**

“Pa, aku nggak mau naik ojek, tolong jemput aku ya!”

“Nggak bisa Ras, kerjaanku di kantor belum selesai. Kamu naik taksi aja!”

“Mahal sekali Pa, apalagi jam macet begini. Bisa bangkrut kita. Uang makan seminggu, habis.”

“Tapi aku nggak bisa jemput kamu, Ma. Bener-bener nggak bisa ninggalin kerjaan kantor.”

“Ya sudah…!” Ras menutup telepon dengan dongkol. Ras kehabisan akal. Ia betul-betul enggan naik ojek. Tukang-tukang ojek yang hobi ngebut membuatnya sebal. Naik taksi? Bisa ambrol anggaran bulan ini. Namun Ras benar-benar harus pergi. Ibunya sakit dan ia sendirian. Ras harus menemaninya. Dengan gamang Ras mengangkat gagang telepon untuk memesan ojek. Ia berdoa dalam hati semoga ia tidak dibawa oleh tukang ojek yang berandalan.

Sejenak Ras memperhatikan raut muka si tukang ojek. Sudah cukup berumur dan berpenampilan kusam. Ras berharap, usia yang lanjut membuat si tukang ojek tidak hobi ngebut.

Namun tak seperti dugaan Ras, si tukang ojek sama saja dengan yang lainnya. Ia bahkan lebih berandalan dan garang. Berkali-kali Ras mencoba meneriaki si tukang ojek agar memelankan motornya, namun tak diindahkan.  Tukang ojek itu seperti tuli.

Dari belakang Ras memperhatikan rambut si tukang ojek yang gimbal dan kusut. Bekas-bekas minyak atau sesuatu yang lengket tersisa di sana. Segaris wajah yang menghadap ke depan juga tampak. Kulit wajah keriput yang menghitam. Membuat Ras merasa tidak nyaman. Sekelebat muncul bayangan ibu hamil yang terjatuh. Tatapan kosong perempuan itu. Wajah itu pasrah ataukah murka? Tiba-tiba Ras merasa ciut.

 Mungkin tukang ojek ini bukan tukang ojek sembarangan. Ras merasakan hawa yang sangat aneh. Bau pekat yang bercampur-campur. Berdesingan mengurung cuping hidung Ras.  Ibu hamil yang terjatuh ingin Ras merasakan perihnya perut yang terantuk stang; ngilunya kaki yang membentur aspal. Ia datang melalui tukang ojek ini. Tukang ojek yang akan membuat Ras terjatuh. Tukang ojek yang akan membalaskan dendam si Ibu Hamil yang terjatuh.

Tukang ojek itu menikung dan melarikan motornya dengan sebat. Ia bahkan  selalu memilih jalur kanan setiap melewati tikungan. Ras memperhatikan si tukang ojek dengan perasaan yang semakin jerih. Ia merasakan tubuhnya gemetar, detak jantungnya bertalu-talu dengan cepat. Ia kini tersandera di tangan si tukang ojek tanpa sedikitpun kemampuan untuk melepaskan diri.  Seluruh nasibnya kini berada di tangan si tukang ojek aneh ini.

Ras menghitung setiap meter jalan yang mereka lewati dengan ketegangan memenuhi kepalanya. Ketegangan yang membuat jantungnya hampir copot. Ia merasa perjalanan itu menjadi sangat panjang. Perjalanan yang sepertinya tidak akan pernah berakhir.

Kecemasan Ras semakin bertambah dengan denyutan bayinya. Bayinya berdenyut semakin sering. Membentuk gelombang di perut Ras. Janin dalam kandungan Ras bergerak maju-mundur, berputar dan entah gerakan apa lagi yang tidak bisa Ras bayangkan. Bayinya sepertinya tahu bahaya yang sedang mengancamnya. Gerakan-gerakan bayi yang gelisah semakin menguatkan kecemasan Ras bahwa sesuatu yang buruk akan terjadi.

Ras terengah-engah dalam kecemasan yang tidak terkira.  Dalam benak ia menguatkan bhatin. Takkan ia biarkan siapapun membahayakan bayinya. Takkan ia biarkan sesuatu pun membuatnya terjatuh dan sakit. Ketakutan semakin memenuhi dada Ras. Ia merasakan debaran jantungnya meningkat tiga kali lipat. Keringat dingin mengucur deras dari dahinya. Ras merasa pusing dan mual. Matanya terasa narnar dan berkunang-kunang. Berkali-kali Ras mengucek matanya agar ia bisa terus memperhatikan jalan. Menyiapkan strategi bila tiba waktu si tukang ojek sengaja mencelakakan mereka. Siapa tahu ia masih mungkin melompat untuk menyelamatkan dirinya dan bayinya. Namun Ras semakin tidak tahan. Ia mulai merasakan kehilangan separuh kesadarannya. Ia masih bisa merasakan janinnya yang menendang-nendang sebat. Ikut serta merasakan gelisah yang mencekam bundanya. Sebelum Ras betul-betul tidak sadar.

**

            “Dok, bagaimana keadaan istri saya!”

            “Tidak apa-apa. Istri anda hanya terlalu cemas, hingga pingsan dengan kecemasannya sendiri. Ia harus lebih rileks. Memandang segala sesuatu dengan lebih ringan!”

            Ras bisa mendengar sayup percakapan Rama suaminya dengan dokter. Sesaat ia dilanda kebingungan mencerna kejadian yang terjadi. Ketika membuka mata dilihatnya ruangan yang didominasi warna biru laut.

            Ras menarik nafas lega. Ia berhasil menyelamatkan diri dari malapetaka terjatuh. Rama menceritakan, si tukang ojek terkejut saat kepala Ras terkulai pingsan. Untungnya–meskipun tua—ia dengan cekatan cepat menangkap tubuh Ras. Ras hampir saja terjatuh ke arah samping karena kehilangan keseimbangan. Si tukang ojek cepat menepikan motornya dan membawa Ras ke rumah sakit dengan taksi. 

            Ras memandang Rama, sementara Rama memandang Ras cemas yang masih tersisa. Setelah memandang Rama, pandangan Ras beralih pada perutnya. Perut itu masih membuncit dan Ras merasakan gerakan-gerakan meremas di sana. Bayinya baik-baik saja. Ia tidak terjatuh dan si tukang ojek bukan pembalas dendam.

            “Papa kenal dengan tukang ojek yang membawa saya? Bawa ojeknya sembarangan sekali!”

            “Pak Giyo, dia tukang ojek baru di komplek kita. Dia agak tuli Ras, jadi nggak denger kata-kata kamu!”

            “Ooo…!” Ras mengucapkan vokal  bulat itu dengan dada yang lega luar biasa. Ras tersenyum kecil sambil mengelus-ngelus perutnya yang membentuk gelombang.  Hai sayang kamu aman.

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