It had been 19 days since Papa passed away. I remembered how he wanted me to drive a car and said that if I could, it would be given to me. Then here I was. The vehicle had changed ownership to be mine. Why did it feel so empty?
I was often angry with him because he kept pushing me to learn to drive. On his last day, I had not had a chance to say sorry and goodbye. Why was time running so fast? Why did it not allow me to admit my mistakes?
I stared at the car blankly. Every time I saw this car, it always reminded me of him. This car was his favorite. Regret attacked me repeatedly like lightning strikes. I went into the house and ventured to look inside Papa’s gallery. People said that a photo or video brought memories, so I wondered what kind of memories Papa always kept for himself.
The moment I opened the gallery, I could see many of our family’s photos. My photo that I didn’t even know he took, and his beloved car—the photos he took look very pretty and natural. I tried to close my eyes to strengthen myself from crying. The second I closed my eyes, the memories played, and I returned to the beginning.
The moments we walked with our dogs every Sunday, the moments we played badminton every afternoon, the moments we had family trips together, the moment when we celebrated my seventeenth birthday. Until when he was lying weak in the hospital, and the moment when I hadn’t got a chance to say goodbye. The afterimage that keeps popping in my head makes me dizzy.
I felt like I was going to drown in my grief, but I quickly stilled myself. I had to say my final goodbye to Papa. Then I remembered the Japanese custom of flying lanterns in honor of the departed. Some people said it was called memory lanterns. It let you whispered something to someone you lost, and the lantern would carry the message to them in the sky.
Mama noticed what I was doing and asked what the lantern was for, to which I simply smiled and stated it was my final goodbye to Papa. She just smiled and waited for me to finish what I had started. Here’s my letter:
Hi, Pa! It’s me, Leah. How’s it going up there? Is it no longer hurting you? Are you still just as powerful as you used to be? I really miss you. Really. I was composing this letter specifically for you today. I hope you receive this letter. I apologize, Pa, because the last time I was annoyed with you about little matters. I’m sorry you didn’t see me at my best, and I’m sorry I never said: “I love you.” Why is it so difficult for me to say it to you if it is only eight letters? Maybe I was arrogant about it. Sorry for not saying it earlier, but I want to say it now. Thank you for being on my side. Thank you for every memory we’ve been through together. I’m sorry I missed out on my final goodbye. I am also very grateful because you made my life more meaningful. Thank you for guiding me all this time. Oh, and also, I wanted to tell you I now have a driver’s license! Isn’t it better up there? I know you can see me from there. Now is my time to let you go and say goodbye. Goodbye, Pa. See you in another life. I love you. –Leah.
I flew the lantern in my backyard at night. I could see it moving upward. I stared at it until it vanished. I drew a deep breath after it was gone. I smiled and rushed into the house, looking for Mama. I hugged her. “I love you,” I told Mama, both of us teary-eyed.
I did not even flinch because I knew this was the end.
“I think our relationship doesn’t work.”
I took some time to see right in his eyes. There was no regret when he said that. He meant it.
“You know, you’re just too kind for me. I don’t deserve you.”
I was still looking into his eyes. Did he not know? I saw through his lies.
“Okay,” I finally said.
“Okay? Is that the best you can say?”
“What did you expect? Begging you for a hug?”
“Forget it.” Then he left me. Amid blooming flowers, under the clear sky, the cherry blossoms bloomed beautifully. Some fell in the wind and hit me. On the 7th of March, my relationship ended. I thought I was supposed to be sad. But why did I feel so numb? Maybe because I knew it would end like this? Because he was continually seeing another girl?
The street looked so beautiful. Cherry blossom trees filled the streets with pink. People were taking pictures with their beloved ones. Some with their partners, some with their families, and here I am. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. The moment I closed my eyes, my memory began.
It was in winter. One year ago, he confessed his feelings to me, and I did the same. I still remembered how happy we were at the beginning of our relationship. We laughed, spent our time together, watched movies, and laughed over a simple matte, but I didn’t know since when I always prioritized him above myself.
I grew my hair because he liked it even though I did not. I always waited for him to text me, I canceled my plans with friends just to see him, and I set the alarm for midnight to ensure he texted me when he got home. I bought him what he wanted. I didn’t even have time for myself. I always begged forgiveness for a mistake that he should have apologized for. I gave the best of everything just for him.
For almost one month, I felt that he had changed. He never texted me first and never asked how my day was. He always said he was freaking busy, so he could not reach me; we fought all day long, but I was always the one apologizing. Ultimately, I found him having an affair with his coworker. When did I become so foolish?
I realized how stupid it was to sacrifice myself for someone who didn’t deserve it. I realized that I was losing myself in a relationship. So, that was the end. The wind hit me. I opened my eyes and saw what a beautiful sight this was.
Now I knew why I felt numb when he dumped me. That’s right, something about love. I had to love myself first before I could love anyone else. It was time for me to take a better step. I took one step, and at first, it felt weird. I was scared about how my life would go without someone grabbing my hand.
Again, I took another step, and this was the right path. I felt free and relieved now. I could feel myself slowly returning. No regrets. I walked with relief, heading home while imagining spending time with myself, my family, and the friends I had left behind. Being in a relationship wasn’t for me. You know, in life, some things were just not meant to be.
Today is a beautiful day. Nice weather, but I questioned, is it beautiful because of the weather or the event that happened in my life lately that makes my day wonderful?
As a hardworking man, my efforts are finally paid off. I get the chance to leave the countryside because my job promotion takes me and my fiancée moving to town. I imagine a nice urban area where a life of dreams and success usually resides. It’s nice and also sad to leave this place. I will miss the fresh air once I get in town.
Thanks to the promotion, my family and I are making a celebration of my success. We’re having dinner tonight. I let them choose the menu. They chose my favorite: beefsteak. I volunteered to buy the meat. I choose to buy it from the farm ‘cause I think it will be fresher.
Once I get there, I meet a very nice old man who happens to be a farmer. He warmly greets me and shows me a bunch of cattle grazing in the field. He tells me to choose which one would be my dinner. I choose a big ox which I think will be sufficient for my family members. I point at my pick, and the farmer tells me to wait for the butcher to slaughter the ox.
The farmer leaves me alone with the ox I picked and calls the butcher. While waiting, I take a look carefully at the ox. I look him in the eyes. I wonder if he senses anything, any sign of death, slaughter, beheading, or what will happen to him later.
A part of me pities him a little bit, and the rest is “I can’t wait for what a lovely dinner he can be”. I feel guilty. I do feel bad for him. I really do. I will save him if there is anything I can do, but I suppose my will isn’t big enough to cancel the dinner that I’ve been planning.
The butcher takes the machete and walks closer to the ox. The butcher stretches his arm to enable him swinging his hand strongly without spraining his arm. The ox sees the butcher but has no idea if he will be slaughtered after this.
I wonder if he knows that he is going to die, will he choose to run? Or he does know but won’t run because he’s prepared for this time? The butcher gets ready to swing the machete to his head, yet he still has no clue.
One big swing tears his skin. Blood runs from his neck slowly at first, but the butcher keeps swinging the machete to his head, and the stream of blood runs faster as time goes by. I supposed the faster the blood runs, the lesser the pain. I can see his consciousness slowly disappear.
Here he is, lying on the ground, dead. His head is no longer being a part of his body. I recall that a moment ago, he still had grass for his meal. I feel relieved that at least he isn’t murdered with an empty stomach. Now he is ready to be chopped into smaller pieces so it will be easy to carry home or to cook.
For a moment I feel sad and numb. Maybe it’s because I look at him in the eye right before his death.
I find myself staring at his lifeless flesh. It tells me enough of his life that since he was born, the majority of his days were spent grazing a lot; just eating, eating, and eating. When he is old enough, he will be slaughtered. What a mundane life, I think. What if he knows the purpose of his life is just like this? Would he choose not to be born in the first place? But who am I to think it is meaningless?
At least he doesn’t seem to regret any.
I guess I have got to see mine. In some ways, my life is no different than his. I have spent my life arranging the plan to achieve the future I wish I would have, in the hope that I will finally have excitement in this life, but I forget to live in the present. I work and work and work harder, but to get what actually?
I used to think that the cattle’s life was really dull, but I realize that I just don’t understand the meaning of the beauty of life that we, humans, think is without any purpose. Maybe it’s better if I can just live my life.
—I fall too deep into my thoughts and lose track of time. I didn’t realize how fast time has passed. As if it isjust like a minute ago, I see full-grown cattle grazing. Now I see an old farmer carrying a bunch of small sacks of a disfigured cattle body, walking towards my direction.
“What’s the occasion, mate?” the farmer asks.
“Nothing special. We just want a nice dinner, that’s all.” A moment ago, I was prepared to answer this question to brag a little bit about the promotion. Now, I’m not so sure whether it is special anymore.
I then gesture to where I park my truck to hint to the farmer where to put my order. He nods and then carries the sack one by one into it. Once it’s all set, I’m ready to go.
I drive my truck all the way back from the farm, smoking a cigarette with a window open. The wind blows to my face as I playfully hum a song. I, once again, immerse myself in thoughts.
The story I am about to tell you is a tale of tragedy.
A wise man once said that there is a thin line between loving and obsessing over someone. To this day, we still can’t figure out the difference between the two. I have seen too many people become insane because of love. A pure white-as-milk love became tainted with an obscure purple-as-Hyacinthus obsession.
How do you know if your love is pure or not? Unfortunately, I don’t have an accurate answer to that question. But, I think we could learn one or two things from Sungu’s story as he tried to prove how strong and deep his love was by doing tasks given by two mighty deities.
⸺⸺⸺○⸺⸺⸺
Once upon a time, in a faraway land called Batu Atos, lived a farmer named Sungu. Sungu lived alone in his poorly-made shack. He remained celibate even though he was about to hit 30. He might not be as handsome as a raden, but he knew his rugged looks wooed a few women a handful of times. He never spared a glance at those women because he wasn’t interested in any of them. The only thing they wanted was a quick fling. He wanted the real deal; true and everlasting love with a woman he truly adores.
Sungu stood barefoot in the muddy paddy field in the middle of the night, carrying a small bucket alongside him. The cold night air didn’t stop his courage to collect eels for tomorrow’s breakfast. Beneath his wet feet, he could feel the silver coins that were thrown by people who still believed in the tradition of throwing coins into the rice field to make their wishes come true.
Batu Atos was an old, small, and remote land. Traditions and myths were still going strong even if the land was already a thousand years old. The people who lived there believed in gods—deities who ruled over the earth, gods and goddesses who resided in the vast skies, spirits living in bodies of water, and many other powerful supernatural beings residing in the expanse of nature. A source told me that the land used to sink eons ago. But because of the goddess of the sea’s powerful rage that wrecked the ocean worldwide, the land resurfaced again. Another one was about a man who got abducted, never to be seen again, by the God of Boar because he tried to marry one of the sacred seven female boars.
Sungu was not a religious man, but he still attended a weekly prayer at the Nyi Ketan Ireng’s temple near the volcanic mount of Jengger once in a while. After all, he didn’t want the other neighbors to think poorly of him. It didn’t mean that he started to believe in deities and myths. That was about to change when a beautiful woman came into his life. Her name was Mangga Ranum.
One day, while working with the other farmers, he heard the news about a beautiful great-granddaughter of a high-caste family from another land. She was to accompany her raden brother for a diplomatic matter at Batu Atos. What Sungu did not expect was how he fell in love with Mangga Ranum in such a religious place, which was ironic since he was not a religious person.
He met her during the weekly prayer at Nyi Ketan Ireng’s temple. Her hair, darker than the midnight sky, was styled in a tight bun framed with a hair net made of jasmine flowers. She wore a traditional kemben, revealing her tan-as-longkong skin. Mangga Ranum’s beauty was otherworldly. Sungu even believed the volcano lava would never be as warm as Mangga Ranum’s smile. He knew every man in the temple also had the same thought as him. It was disrespectful of him to think of a woman that way in a sacred place, but he couldn’t help but admire her. He was only a man, after all.
The thought of Mangga Ranum’s beauty occupied his mind and dreams all the time after that day.
Sungu threw the last of the eels into the bucket. Inside, the eels were squirming around. He had to kill and clean the eels tonight, but his mind was distracted. The full moon above reminds him of Mangga Ranum’s round cheeks as she smiled the other day. He was sure his meeting with Mangga Ranum in a sacred place must had meant something. This was the time when Sungu started to have faith in deities. He might be a peasant, but he knew he could win the heart of Mangga Ranum to get the perfect love he always dreamed of.
Sungu carried his legs through the muddy rice field. He started to run, but his slippery legs couldn’t support him. The bucket, full of eels that he tried to catch all night, scattered on the ground, squirming away as he fell. Sungu didn’t care. He stood and got back on running towards his shack.
He scrubbed the mud off of his body with clean water. He wore his best white clothes, even fancier than the ones he usually used for the weekly prayer. His kitchen didn’t have many foods, but he had a bunch of bananas and ripe mangos. Then, he went to his small shed to get a sack full of the best rice he had harvested. Plates, bowls, and four remaining candles he had left were placed inside his satchel.
In the small temple near his shack, he began to place the offerings on the plates and bowls. With the rice, Sungu started to draw a circle while chanting one or two traditional prayer songs he remembered. He set down the candles near the bananas and mangos as the final preparations.
As he knelt, he lifted his arms and said, “Hear me out, O mighty Mother Earth and thunderous Father of the Sky! One day the girl I love will love me back and we will live happily ever after!”
The earth grumbled and began to crack. Sungu winced as the temple’s roof began to fall upon his head. The Mountain spat out little bits of its molten lava. The trees seemed to move their roots. Up in the sky, the sky darkened. The clouds gathered around the temple, casting an enormous shadow over the temple. The rumbling of thunder shook the place. The strong winds flicked off the candles and knocked them down. Sungu screamed out loud as lightning struck down, almost blinding him.
When he opened his eyes, there stood in front of him were Mother Earth and the Father of the Sky themselves. His mouth gaped in reverence at the sight of the two deities. Around him, things that were flung across because of the winds were magically put back in place. Even the rice circle looked as if it was untouched.
Sungu hurriedly stood up and corrected himself. He knelt immediately before them, “
Please forgive your humble servant for this act of treason, O ruler of the sky, earth, and everything between,” he said.
The sky became thunderous when the Father of Sky began to talk,“Fear not, dear child. We are here because of your prayer.”
“We are interested in your tonight’s prayer.” The voice of Mother Earth reminded Sungu of a bird’s melodious chirp at the peak of dawn. “Love is an interesting thing, is it not?” she winked.
Sungu could only nod his head. His head was still working on the fact the most powerful deities had heard his prayer and stood before him. The Mother of Earth’s long-winded dark hair swept the floor and was frazzled like a tree’s roots. Right beside her, the night sky seemed to paint the Father of Sky. His grey beard seemed to move like clouds, swaying in a hypnotizing manner.
“I apologize for my inappropriateness again, but why are you here, O Mother Earth and Father of the Skies?” Sungu asked.
“We are here to grant your wish, dear child!” the Father of Sky boomed.
“Only if you’re willing to do the tasks we will give to you,” Mother Earth added, “Everyone deserves a chance to fall in love, don’t you agree?”
That caught Sungu’s attention, of course. Maybe there were reasons why Mother Earth and the Father of the Skies heard his prayer. Why would they listen to a poor low-caste farmer like him anyway, if they didn’t think of him as someone worthy of love? He nodded his head enthusiastically, “Without a doubt, I will do anything you ask of me. For my love, I shall do whatever it takes.”
Sungu’s fate was sealed that night. What a poor unfortunate soul.
