#9 Kita Pernah Begitu, Dulu

Kita pernah begitu, dulu. Berseragam putih abu-abu, dibawah langit mendung dan hujan yang jatuh mengguyur jalan. Aku berbalut jaketmu, kamu berbalut pelukanku.

Ingatkah kamu? Hari itu hari Rabu. Kita basah kuyup dan akhirnya menyerah pada alam yang sedang mandi, memilih berhenti dan berteduh dibawah atap emperan toko buku. Menonton satu-satu air jatuh membentur tanah, mengaliri jalan, membentuk sungai impromptu sebelum akhirnya masuk membanjiri selokan.

Aku ingat. Ya, aku ingat kamu. Kamu dan rambutmu yang dihiasi bulir-bulir air hujan. Kamu dan buku tulis Sejarah yang tiba-tiba dikeluarkan dari ransel.

Aku mau buat perahu, begitu katamu waktu itu.

Aku tertawa. Boleh juga idemu, aku mau satu.

Kamu tersenyum, dan memberikanku satu kertas dari robekan buku Sejarahmu.

Kamu buat satu perahu. Aku buat satu perahu.

Mau dilayarkan dimana? tanyaku.

Lihat saja. Katamu, lalu membungkuk dan meletakkan perahu buatanmu di sungai impromptu dekat tempat kita berteduh. Perahumu bergerak menunggangi arus.

Aku berjongkok disampingmu dan melayarkan perahuku diatas sungai impromptu. Aku menatapmu, kamu menatapku. Kita tertawa. Hujan belum reda juga.

Dan dua perahu kertas, berlayar tanpa gentar mengarungi arus deras sungai impromptu. Perahumu, dan perahuku. Perahu kita.

***

Ah, hujan selalu membuatku rindu.

Now playing: suara hujan

#8 Dibuang Sayang

November has been the toughest month of this year. So much things are happening in this one month, and I don't know if I should feel happy? Anxious? Tired? Maybe all of them.

But I won't talk about that in this post, no. I will talk about... poems. Now, this is a new area for me. Jadi gini, in one of those days of November gue tiba-tiba terpilih menjadi kontingen puisi dalam ajang perlombaan seni bertajuk UI Art War. Those of you yellow jacketers must know what that competition is. Dan ya, I was one of the kontingen (the fuck is the english of kontingen, please pardon my bilingual-ness).

It was on a whim really, I didn't even thought about applying at al at first. Tapi akibat peer pressure (???) akhirnya gue memutuskan untuk mencoba. Poem is never really my forte. Yes, I write but it's more like a short story, novelet, drabble. Never poems.

Imagine how shocked I am when I got the notification that I was choosen to be the kontingen.

So, in the process of that gue diharuskan untuk membuat dan mengirimkan beberapa puisi. And this post, is about the poems I wrote and the one I finally send in for the competition.

***

Kata Ibuku

Kata Ibuku,

Ilmu membuat seseorang terhormat

Ilmu mengangkat derajat,

Dan membuat semua tangga sosial terpanjat

Kata ibuku,

Nak, tuntutlah ilmu hingga ke negeri Cina

Kejarlah asa hingga angkasa

Tanyakan segalanya

Tanyakan tentang manusia

Tanyakan tentang dunia

Tanyakan tentang langit

Tanyakan tentang semesta

Tanyakan semua

Jangan kembali jika kau belum mengerti,

Begitu kata ibuku

Dan ketika akhirnya aku kembali

Benak sesak dengan sejuta kontemplasi

Ibu malah menatapku pedih

Dengan air mata jatuh membasahi pipi

Nak, apa yang terjadi?

Matanya berkaca ketika kuberikannya jawaban

Atas satu pertanyaan;

Siapa Tuhanmu?

Aku.

***

Kepada Yth, Bibit Penerus Bangsa

Lihat disana,

Mereka yang menyebut diri bibit penerus bangsa

Berbicara

Berorasi

Berdebat

Mereka bilang itu perjuangan

Perjuangan demi rakyat yang telah menafkahi

Tahun-tahun mereka duduk di kelas

Menuntut ilmu

Menggapai asa

Membangun ego

Lihat disana,

Mereka yang menyebut diri bibit penerus bangsa

Kini sudah dewasa

Berbicara dihadapan rakyat jelata

Mengumbar semua kecuali kerja nyata

Memuntahkan kata dengan bangga

Seolah mereka mahatahu

Dan rakyat hanyalah monyet dungu

Semua hanya demi sebuah usaha

Perlindungan ego dari benturan malu

Logika

Akuisisi

Fragmentasi

Akuntabilitas

Intervensi

Denominasi

Fluktuatif

Relatif

Inflasi

Deflasi

Tuan… kami rasanya ingin berteriak,

Kami tidak butuh kata,

Kami butuh nasi

*** 

Dia adalah Warna

Dia adalah Biru

Laut

Langit

Dan sepasang celana jeans usang di lemari

Dia Biru layaknya rindu

Dia Biru dan dia  sendu

Dia adalah Merah

Api

Mawar

Dan darah

Dia adalah Merah yang membara

Dia adalah Merah yang bergairah

Tapi dia adalah Abu-abu

Tidak merah dan tidak pula biru

Dia abu dan kelabu

Bagai mendung di hari Rabu

Dan hujan yang kemudian datang menyerbu

***

So those are the ones I wrote tapi gak dikirim. And this one is the one I finally send in (30 minutes before the deadline, yeah kids I like to live life dangerously).

***

Pesan Bumi untuk Planet Selanjutnya

Jika suatu saat nanti aku tak ada lagi,

Kawan,

Bolehkah kutitipkan padamu beban ini?

Maafkan aku yang tak lagi mampu,

Kawan,

Sesungguhnya, dan jika saja aku bisa

Urung aku membiarkanmu menanggungnya

Tak akan tega 'ku melihatmu menderita

Tapi, Kawan

Maafkan aku

Aku tak lagi mampu

Aku telah habis diperkosa ketamakan

Diinjak-injak keangkuhan

Dimutilasi ambisi

Dibakar oleh benci

Dan aku, Bumi,

Sudah tidak kuat lagi.

***

It didn't win, just as I expected. But hey, I was a newbie and it's only normal (isn't it?) But I'm proud of myself. Lagian, deklamatornya menang (YAAAAAAAYY!) He got 2nd place, isn't he just great? 

I guess that's all for this post. I'll be posting another drabble soon! Stay tune aight, Love?

xoxo

F.

#7 Puisi Dini Hari // A Poem from the Dawn

Pukul 3 pagi itu elegi

Jika tidak bagi kalian, bagiku iya

Pukul 3 pagi yang ada hanya sunyi

Memperkuat suara-suara dalam kepala yang tak henti-hentinya berbunyi

Mencoba mengaburkan garis antara kenyataan dan imaji

Pukul 3 pagi itu penuh kontemplasi
Apa kau akan bangun pukul 6 nanti lalu mandi dan menyongsong hari

Atau memilih untuk tidur lagi hingga petang menyambangi

Pukul 3 pagi aku tidak sedang bermimpi

Tapi kenapa,

Kenapa aku bisa merasakan hadirmu disini?

//

But I love you when it was 4 am

And you were lying next to me

Eyes wide open

Consumed by your thoughts

Then you looked at me

And we closed our eyes

Intertwined our hands

And in that moment, baby

I know

That I want to consume your 4 am thoughts each moment in my life

In that moment, baby, I swear that gravity is not working for me and you

In that moment

I know those eyes will be mine forever

In collaboration with the dearest babe, Soraya. 

#6 Bila dan Jika

Bila dan Jika bertemu di Semesta.

Bukan, ini bukan metafora melainkan harfiah. Bila, perempuan di usia awal 20; senyum secerah langit musim panas, mata seteduh pohon beringin belakang sekolah. Jika, lelaki di usia pertengahan 20; beraroma seperti kopi dan masa lalu, seorang barista di sebuah kedai bernama Semesta.

Saat Jika menyapa, Bila tersenyum.

Secangkir kopi mengikuti duduknya Bila di sudut Semesta. Cappuccino. Standar memang, minuman kopi campur susu dengan hiasan berbentuk daun diatasnya yang dibuat dari hasil percampuran krim dengan busa dan tangan dingin Jika. Standar. Lagipula Bila memang standar seperti itu, ini menurut Bila sendiri tentu saja.

Menurut Jika, lain lagi. Bila adalah segala hal spesial bercampur dalam bentuk seorang perempuan. Lebih spesial daripada martabak dengan 3 butir telur bebek. Lebih spesial daripada promo spesial supermarket-supermarket menjelang hari raya. Lebih spesial daripada paket ayam goreng plus nasi di restoran fastfood sebelah. Bila adalah… Bila.

Bila akan duduk di sudut itu selama berjam-jam berhadapan dengan laptopnya, sesekali mencoretkan sesuatu diatas notebook dengan cover kulit sintetis. Sesekali menyesap cappuccinonya. Sesekali mengerutkan dahi. Sesekali mengetukkan jemari diatas meja kayu. Dan sesekali memanggil Jika untuk memesan sepotong cheese cake atau pai apel.

Dan Jika, Jika hanya akan berada di tempatnya, membuatkan kopi untuk para pelanggan. Sesekali mengantarkan pesanan. Sesekali mengobrol dengan pelanggan. Sesekali menjadi kasir dadakan. Sering kali mencuri pandang kearah Bila, penasaran apa yang sedang ia lakukan dibalik laptop berlambang apel yang sudah tergigit itu.

Menuliskah ia? Membacakah ia? Menggambarkah ia?

Jika tidak pernah memiliki jawaban pasti atas pertanyaan-pertanyaan tersebut, karena dalam setiap kesempatan dimana ia menghampiri meja Bila dengan secangkir kopi atau sepotong cheese cake, Bila selalu menutup laptopnya seolah apa yang sedang ia kerjakan adalah tugas rahasia dari presiden.

“Terimakasih” Bila selalu berkata dengan menyum, menunggu Jika kembali ke tempatnya sebelum membuka kembali laptop berlambang apel.

Bila selalu berhasil menggelitik rasa penasaran Jika. Bila adalah misteri, tapi bukan jenis misteri yang seram seperti dalam serial Goosebumps—buku bacaan Jika saat SD dulu. Bila adalah misteri seperti edelweiss adalah misteri. Bila adalah… Bila.

***

Bila tidak tahu sejak kapan karya-karyanya berubah menjadi sebuah koleksi candid portrait seorang barista bernama aneh itu. Ya, namanya Jika. Ia tahu dari plat nama plastik yang menempel di apron si barista bernama aneh saat dia mengantarkan cappuccino pesanannya.

Orangtua macam apa yang member nama anaknya Jika?

Seperti sebuah cerita dengan ending yang menggantung, nama itu rasanya seperti mengawang-awang. Jika… Jika hujan turun? Jika matahari terbit dari barat? Jika ku mati, kau juga mati?

Jika, Jika, Jika…

Ugh, rasanya Bila ingin mengantukkan kepalanya ke dinding Semesta saja.

Dicoretkannya pensil diatas notebook dengan frustasi. Garis demi garis tertoreh membentuk wajah seseorang. Seorang pria. Seorang pria dengan apron coklat dan mata sehitam espresso.

Sial. Bila merobek kertas itu dari bukunya dan meremasnya gemas. Kenapa ia malah menggambar Jika lagi?

***

Pukul 4 sore biasanya Bila meminta bill.

Ia kemudian akan membawa bill tersebut ke kasir sebelum akhirnya melangkah keluar Semesta, meninggalkan Jika yang lagi-lagi harus puas hanya dengan mencuri pandang dari jauh kearahnya. Begitu saja, tanpa tambahan apa-apa.

Hari ini pun begitu. Bila mengangkat tangannya, memanggil waiter, meminta bill, waiter memberikan bill, Bila membaca bill itu sesaat lalu menyelipkan sejumlah uang dan membawanya ke kasir, kemudian pergi.

Dan Jika, Jika masih di tempatnya, bersiap membuatkan pesanan pelanggan baru yang datang sesaat setelah Bila pergi.

Jika sedang sibuk meracik segelas frappucino saat salah seorang rekan kerjanya mendaratkan tepukan ringan di bahunya. “Apa?” katanya.

Rekannya tidak berkata apa-apa, melainkan hanya menyerahkan sebuah kertas lecek yang terlipat jadi dua. Ia menatap Jika dengan senyum penuh arti kemudian mengarahkan dagunya ke sudut tempat Bila biasa duduk.

“Kayaknnya barista kita punya fans nih”

Jika menuangkan frappucino racikannya ke gelas saji dan mengelap tangan ke apron sebelum menerima kertas tersebut dengan perasaan aneh. Siapa yang nge-fans dengan siapa? Dibukanya lipatan kertas dengan hati-hati, seolah ia sedang membuka gulungan sejarah peninggalan kerajaan zaman dulu.

Apa yang tertoreh diatas kertas itu berhasil menghapus perasaan anehnya tadi dan menggantinya dengan sebuah senyuman lebar di wajah. Masa bodoh kalau ia dianggap gila oleh rekannya maupun pelanggan yang sedang menunggu minuman mereka diracik olehnya karena dirinya yang tiba-tiba tersenyum seperti itu.

Satu-satunya yang ia pedulikan sekarang hanyalah coretan pensil yang membentuk wajahnya diatas kertas lecek tersebut. Dan Bila.

***

Bila tidak pernah merasa mencari apapun, tapi ia mendapati dirinya menemukan.

Jika tidak pernah merasa dirinya menemukan apapun, dan kini ia mendapati dirinya mencari.

#5 Don't Talk to Strangers on The Internet

Your mother used to tell you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the internet for he might be a 40 year old bald man who intended to kidnap you and tie you on a chair inside his dark cramped basement somewhere only God knows. For she might be a lesbian pedophile whose only purpose is drive her way into your body and stain you with her sin. For they might be a predator that would (and could) eat you up alive.

But, does your mother ever told you about this one? The one whose words feel more calming than the smell of rain on a lazy Sunday morning. The one whose words taste like ice cream on a hot summer days. The one whose words would echoes inside your head like a broken record playing on repeat (you’d remember every single damn of letters and punctuation they used on it, oh boy, you would). The one whose words you knew would slice your heart open when they leave but you also knew that you wouldn’t mind the bleeding and the numbing pain you’d feel.

I love you.

It’ll feel real, fuck it’ll feel so damn real. It’s as if you could clearly hear their voice whispering those words on your ear with their sleepy voice every morning. It’s as if they’re here, lying on the vacant side of your bed, arms wrapped around your waist, face nestled on the crook of your neck, and lips slightly brushed on your skin making your heart beats 10 times faster than its usual tempo. It’s as if you could feel their skin just right on your fingertips.

It’s as if they’re here.

Except they’re not. I love you.  No, the words doesn’t roll down their tongue coated in their sleepy voice greeting you the same way the sun greets the earth every morning. Instead it came on a form of digitally transmitted electromagnetic signal that is a plain Arial on your dimly lit phone screen. They’re not here. They won’t ever be here.

I love you too, but I wish I don’t.

Your mother used to tell you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the internet for they might be dangerous in every logical reason there is. But what she didn’t tell you is that they could make you fall deep in love with them in every illogical reason there is. And that, my dear, is far more dangerous than those things she used to tell you.

Reader's Guide: My K-Pop Fanfict Recommendation (part 1)

Hello reader fella!

This time I'm going to talk about one of my biggest interest in life since 3 years ago. yep, it's K-Pop. You know, those pretty boys and girls that sing and dance and act in a tear-jerking dramas and also do foolish things on a variety show. Yep. 

But, this post isn't about how the trend and culture of K-Pop itself. It's about one of the most essential part of being a fan of K-Pop idols (or any kind of idols actually). It's about fanfiction. 

Well, the thing about me is... I'm a hardcore reader. Like, ever since I was a kid I love reading everything I could get in sight. A brochure, my father's newspaper, my mother's old collection of Enid Blyton's series, even the boring stories about perang kemerdekaan on my history textbook. Growing up, I started to read various novels with various genres. I remember to have finished reading one of Dan Brown's novel (I forgot which one, was it Da Vinci Code? Was it The Lost Symbol?) only in one day. I was like 11 at that time, lol talking about nerdies.

And with that, when I joined this cult of K-Popus Fangirlismus, the fanfictions has become my biggest interest. I spend a lot (A LOT) of times browsing the net to look for the best fanfic every fandoms can offer, and God do they have amazing authors with amazing works. I even dare to say that those authors are even better than some of a cliche teenlit novels author whose book you could easily find on some popular bookstores.

And this is it. I've summarized a few of those fanfictions that are read worthy and not the usual 'oppa unnie saranghaeyo. omona waeyo? Arasseo' fanfictions (bleh, I cringed so hard writing those words). So... enjoy!

(Disclaimer: This isn't in a particular order, okay. I'll just write whatever title that comes into my mind first. And this will not be based on any particular fandoms too. Might contain BoyxBoy act)

1. Prayer For The Impossible by chasingbreaths

Genre: angst, romance

Cast: Bang Yongguk and Kim Himchan (B.A.P)

Angst is my favorite genre and this fanfic will always be on the top of my list. Quick summary: Himchan is a broken and sick artist while Yongguk is the one who destined to take his life. They fell in love. And you know the rest.

So fucking heart-wrenching, is what I could say. I read this fic on one summer night, it was almost 2 AM and I sobbed hard on the last few chapters. Like, seriously. Aside from the fact that its pairing was my two ultimate bias (Yasss BangHim shipper here yow!), the plot and storyline is just... too much to handle without tears. Just a glimpse of the story:

Unfortunately though, it seems like the author has deleted the entire story so I can't give you the link to the full story :( Author-nim, I'm still hoping that you would repost this...

2. Der Marchenclub by pinboo
Genre: thriller, suspense, angst
Cast: Super Junior and SNSD (Main)

It'd be a sin if I don't put this great masterpiece on this list. This is what I call: MINDBLOWING. I read this when I first entered the cult of K-Popus Fangirlismus, thus I didn't really have any particular fandom yet. I just browse mindlessly through asianfanfics and apparentlyl I had stumbled upon this masterpiece.

What can I say? The author has succesfully twist those fairytale we used  to know as a kid to some sick, maddening, emotionally-draining thriller plot. Death and blood would be everywhere, those characters you thought is an angels might be the actual lucifers, and those you think you could trust... might be plotting your death by now (MUAHAHAHA).

I don't even like Super Junior nor SNSD, let alone ship them but... this fic is definiteley a most read.

3. Flavors by Scheherazade

Genre: Slice of life

Cast: Jang Hyunseung (BEAST), OC

Sweet would be the only word fit to describe this fic. The words are enchantingly beautiful and as the title was saying, this fanfic would bring you to a journey of a thousand explosions of flavor. From the flavor of Peppermint Dewdrop, Anise Sunflower, Kaffir Velveteen, to the flavor of Numb.

You know, I kinda have a trust issue of fanfic that involves Bias x OC pairing because

it basically filled with cliche trash and shits. But this one completely changes my bad impression about the OC fanfictions. I love the way the author write the OC. Like, she was fragile, but not. She seems like insane, but not. She looks like she's in love with him, but not. She's simple but also at the same time has the most complex character in the story.

4. THIN AIR by asweetdepravity

Genre: angst, romance, a bit of fluff, and more angst

Cast: Choi Seunghyun (T.O.P) and Kwon Jiyong (G-Dragon)

I don't ship GTOP. I don't ship GTOP. I don't ship GTOP

But I think I might just change my mind after reading this fic.

Or maybe I just got a thing for broken people.

Quick summary: amnesia, terminal illness, broken Jiyong, equally messed-up Seunghyun.

Did I summed everything up?

5. Chopin's Embrace by elisaexplosive
Genre: angst, slice of life, mystery, thriller
Cast: Random idols

Beautifully thrilling. Ooh, I got goosebumps from reading this in the middle of the night. This story is a collection of connected one shots. But what is the connection? Well... Suicide. On the first chapter you got this bullied lesbian, played by Amber, who's in love with her bully. On The second chapter you'll get Zelo as the anxious teenager who's stalked by a mysterious middle-aged man (creeeeepy), the next you'll find the lonely Bom and many more. But well, as stated above, this is a thriller fanfic so don't expect that the characters will live happily ever after.

Maybe they will. I don't know. They're all died from suicide, right? Who knows.

6. SCANDAL by kpoponly
Genre: angst, angst, AAAAAANGST, a bit fluff
Cast: G-Dragon & Taeyeon (Main), Kiko Mizuhara, Leeteuk, Suju, SNSD, YGFam, Nuthang (Minor)

Never thought I'd put this fic on the list, though. I don't even know there are people who ships this two. Like... Can you imagine? G-Dragon and Taeyeon? Exactly. But that is exactly what triggers my curiousity towards this fic. To be very honest, I was kinda skeptical at first. You know, just like the OC fanifc, I also have trust issue about this crackpair fanfic. But, well, I thought there's no harm in reading a few chapters right?

And damn, I was wrong. Past the third chapter, I was already sold. I love how the writer describes G-Dragon's character as if it is the real him. The real Kwon Jiyong with all his cockiness, fluff, hopeles-romanticism, and shits (I don't know how's the real Kwon Jiyong is, but that's just the vibe I got from him so yeah. Subjective). And don't forget the fragile-and-sometimes-annoying-but-adorable Taeyeon. This is what I call imperfectly perfect. And oh, how can I left out Kiko, my dear Kiko Mizuhara? Wild and broken Kiko... God, I love how the author potrayed her. The plot, maaaann the plot is so thick with drama with just enough amount of fluff to balance the angst.

This fic is an absolute emotional roller coaster. Put on your seatbelt, and just enjoy.

1.

 2.

3.

(Lol, I even put three screencaps. That shows you how much I love this fic. I'm so biased /facepalm)

7. Grey by jongbuttbutt

Genre: Angst (maybe?), implicit smut
Cast: Bang Yongguk (B.A.P) and Kim Himchan (B.A.P)

This fic, has successfully illustrated its title. It is grey. The relationship between the character is grey. The character itself is grey. What is Himchan? Is he human? Is he angel? But angel didn't come to this part of town...

(And even the smut scene is 'grey' lol)

Overall I like the vague-ness of this one shot. It's like you're trying to read through a thick fog, if that's even possible. I like how the author wrote down every words, thumbs up for that.

Yeah, so I guess that's all for now. I'll update when I find another read-worthy fanfics. I hope you enjoy this recommendation, and don't be shy to drop any of your recommendation here if you happen to have one. See you another time!

xoxo

F.

[BOOK REVIEW] All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

Another book review, yaaaaayyy!

Now this is my new baby that has just been added to my preshus collection of babies (re: books! Don’t panic, I don’t collect literal babies) very recently. And this baby is quite fat, it weighed 530 pages to be exact but that’s not really a problem for me though because I’m a fast reader, kinda.

So, first the thing that captured my attention was the little badge on the cover that says: “Winner of the Pulitzer Prize for fiction 2015”. And I thought, wow this must be some awesome sh---udgecake. And for that, I was sold.

Long story short, this book is about a blind girl and an orphan and a magical-slash-cursed diamond called Sea of Flames. It was set during the world war 2 in the city of Paris, Saint Malo, and Zollverein, Essen. The blind girl, whose name was Marie-Laure, has a father who worked at the National Museum of Paris as a locksmith. During the attack of Nazi, Marie-Laure and her father ran away from Paris to her great-uncle house in Saint Malo. Without the knowledge of Marie, her father has smuggled (or rather, been told to smuggle) the extremely rare yet beautiful but cursed diamond called the Sea of Flames. It is said that whoever carry the Sea of Flames with them will live forever, but the people around them will stumble upon a very very bad luck. (Marie Laure did stumble upon a strings of bad lucks because in the story she’s the one who practically carried the diamond, though)

On the other hand, the orphan whose name was Werner Pfennig is a genius with radio. Live in a place called Zollverein , he was destined to work as a coal miner for the rest of his life. That is until he and his sister, Jutta, found a broken radio that fills his life with possibility and brings him to the notice of Hitler Youth.

The rest is how the two found each other in the most peculiar, twisted, beautiful, surprising way. You’ve got to read them yourself, seriously!

Doerr is awesome (with capital A) at storytelling. He was very, very, very, very descriptive, detailed and… I don’t know, visual? The way he describes the city of Saint Malo, the miniature that Marie-Laure’s father build for her, how the siege happen on Saint Malo, how he describes the Sea of Flames seems very visual to me. I can almost smell the scent of sea every time Marie Laure goes to the beach near  her great-uncle’s—Etienne, the name’s Etienne—mansion. The furnished model of the city of Paris and Saint Malo, and the beautiful yet cursed Sea of Flames.  Every word sways me and has successfully brought me out of my quiet bedroom to the world of Marie Laure and Werner Pfennig.

The plot is also awesome. It was rather confuseing at first because, Doerr wrote it back and forth from Marie Laure’s perspective, to Werner’s perspective,  from the year of 1944, then goes back to 1934, then leaped to the year of 1954, and going back again to 1944, and so on until in the end it finally reached the year of 2014. He was basically trying to give us hints about how will Marie Laure and Werner meet through those leaping of time settings. And when they finally met, you will not be spoiled with a usual dramatic sappy meetings of a boy and girl in a romance novel. They meet in an unusual circumstances, unusual time, unusual place (kinda), and unusual situations. Even though the meeting was short (underlined the word SHORT), but it was… memorable. At least for me. And Marie Laure. And Werner. Doerr wrote it very swiftly and just the right amount of a supposed-to-be romance.

The ending… well, this is a big spoiler ahead. Werner died. Marie Laure got back to Paris with Etienne, and grow old peacefully.

And the diamond, you ask? Well… it was back to where it belong. To the earth. Waiting for another (lucky? Unlucky?) person to find it again and meet their fate. 

***

Title: All The Light We Cannot See

Author: Anthony Doerr

Publisher: Fourth Estate, London

Page Count: 530 pages

Score

Storyline: 4.5/5

Diction: 5/5

Cover: 4/5

Overall: 4.5/5

#4 Let's Not Fall in Love

“Let’s not fall in love,” he said.

His eyes, two irises as black as a coal, looking out to the distance. He seems so far away even though the space between us was only an arm reach, even less. It’s as if his soul is nestling somewhere else, as if he was somewhere else (so far away, I can’t even reach), as if… he wants to be anywhere else but here.

Wasn’t he always?

“We don’t know each other very well yet,” His voice was raspy. Like the sound you make when you step on a stack of dry leaves during autumn.

We don’t know each other very well, yet. Sure, I thought. I only know about how much sugar you like on your coffee (3 spoons, or was it 4?), how much you love reading your old comic books on weekend, how you always woke up at 5 and then continue to sleep until 6.30 before officially starting your day, how much you hated to shave, and how you would hug me so tightly (so long) when you’re sad.

“Actually I…” he took a long draw of oxygen into his lungs before continuing his words. “…was scared”

Aren’t we all?

He turns his head towards me. Even now, when he’s looking straight into my eyes, (or maybe he was just trying to) his eyes were always seemed so distant. It’s as if he’s not looking at me but something far beyond me.

It seems like you’re here, but not. Why?

“Let’s not make promises. We never know what tomorrow may bring,” he said. “Please, don’t ask anything to me. I can’t… ever give you an answer“

But, darling, you are the answer to all my unasked questions.

“We’re as happy as we are right now”

Unconsciously, my lips curved into a small smile. Are we?

He turns his head away, again. He’s ready to soar through the horizon, again. Ready to drift away from me, even further than he was before. Ready to not fall in love.

Then came a whisper from the gap between his lips. A whisper so soft, it almost feels like a morning breeze.

“Let’s not fall in love”

The wind flows, caressing my cheek ever so gently. I closed my eyes and imagine the place he was always looking for in the distance. I imagine myself there. I imagine us.

Then came another whisper. This time, it was from mine.

“Let’s”

THE END

Now Listening: Bigbang - Let's Not Fall in Love

#3 Reunion

There we are again. Sitting face to face surrounded by the crowd of cheers. Looking close but also at the same time, distant. You flashed me a little smile. That smile. I want to refrain myself from smiling back but my body doesn’t seem to have the same idea. So without me even have the time to think, I smiled back.

Laughter was heard. Stories were exchanged. Nostalgia.

Our old friend cracked a joke; a funny one that made everyone in the table laughs their hearts out. I haven’t heard their laugh for quite a while. Their laughs, for some reason throws me to the long deep tunnel of time when life was as simple as ABCs. When nothing is more complicated than the algebra formulas our teacher used to teach us in the class. When we thought, we could handle everything in our hands as long as we’re standing side by side. Nothing will keep us apart.

Turns out life are not that simple, right? Things are more complicated than any math formulas we used to learn together back at school. We can’t handle everything in our hands, because the world is far bigger and more complicated that we thought. Even when we’re standing side by side, there’s still some invisible distance keeping us apart.

I caught your eyes glancing at my direction for a split second before that was broken when you turn your head because one of our friends called your name. It’s okay though, that split second is enough for both of us to finally realize something that has been buried deep beneath this thick layer of ego. That invisible barrier.

You never change, you said when the night ends.

So do you.

Four years and not the slightest change of you, and then you laugh.

Four years…

Four years worth of time for me to finally realize, I’m not over you.

Me too…

And then a hug. An awkward friend-to-friend hug. Arm slung awkwardly around the shoulder. Nose buried weirdly on the nape of the necks. Fingers ran hesitantly through the strands of hair. Heart raced rapidly against the cage of ribs. Unspoken words held by the tip of our tongues.

On that very moment we finally realized; something deep down in our hearts never change. Not even a slightest bit. It’s just us who refuse to acknowledge it.

THE END

#2 Coffee Shop

I came again today. It was always the same. Cool autumn breeze blew out the leaves, made some of them flew away from their stem. Sometimes it stuck in our hair; you hate that but somehow always laugh after picking that leaves out of your hair and mine. Some days you will just let the leaves stuck in your hair until the same breeze blew that out itself.

The same aroma and warm feeling greeted me as I entered the building. Caramel, wasn't it? The same scent you always had on your body, I remember that. The little bell chimes when I pushed the old wooden door. You love that chimes, you said the sound of it was comforting. Reminds you of your childhood house. The creaking sound of the wooden floor when I walked to our favorite corner didn't change. It's still there, left me smiling to myself every time I stepped on that.

The corner we usually sat never changes either; leather sofa with mahogany table in front of it. The view of sakura trees blossoming all pink in the spring also stay the same. Sadly, today it has turned into some kind of lifeless tree without any single leaves left on its bony stem. I remember how you used to frown when we watched that leaf-less tree from this seat. You said the tree looked anorexic and unhealthy, you hated that.

Slow and gloomy jazz music was played. Ah, the old man must be in a dark mood today. Maybe because of the decreasing visitors, since this old quiet coffee shop has nothing to offer compared to those with free Wi-Fi and more modern ambience. But we always love the comforting silence it offers right? Especially you.

I ordered Americano again. Not a surprise of course. You once said I need to try any other menus, change of scenery so that I won't get easily bored. Funny thing, because that was said by a person who always ordered cafe late with lots of creamer and less sugar. And never gets bored with that.

The old man brought me my order himself, smiled his ever so warm smile and greeted me politely. Like he always did every time we visited this coffee shop. I still remember that you would always greeted him back and asked him how he was, and then he would answer ‘Fantastic like always’ before waltzing back to his usual place behind the counter. Today however, it's his turn to ask how you were.

Well what can I say? Sometimes I wanted to ask myself the exact same thing. How are you there? It must be fun since I clearly remember your bright smile when we said our goodbyes that night. Do you still hate pickles? I know you would throw that little cucumber away every time we have burgers for lunch. Then we'd argue about how delicious pickles for me and how disgusting it was for you, like we would argue about the greasy pasta we made. Well, good news for you, I can finally eat that pasta now.

You know, there are times when I wanted to just step on my pedal and drives past this old wooden building, but I can't. There are other times when I just want to look for another coffee shop to visit instead of keep visiting this one for years, but I still can't. My friends said I got to move on and try to find a new you, but I just can't. They said maybe it's not ‘I can’t’ maybe it's ‘I don't want to’.

They are true.

***

“Let her go,” my friend said, tapping my back lightly.

A little smile formed on my face as I knelt and place a bucket of chrysanthemum in front of the tombstone of your grave. “I already did...”

***

Now Listening: Coffee Shop - BAP