One Is Not Born, But Rather Becomes, A Woman - Beauvoir

Being a feminist is not about trying to imitate men, hatred to men, burning bras or naked. Being feminist is about free to decide who you want to be, how to act and be responsible to your choice. It is not a shame to demand respect. 

Source: @grenta's journal

Hard to Spell, Easy to Practice: Misogyny

Being a woman is suck, she said. At a second the wrinkle on the forehead shaped, presenting disagreement. But then, slowly the wrinkle gone, the eyes were pointing to a random object, still thinking. Ah, ya she is not that wrong. I can follow her saying about that. Like it or not, I must admit that being a woman in this patriarchal and misogynist country is utterly suck. The pain of having menstruate every month is not enough, women have also facing affliction, oppression, underestimation, silly cat-calling, and stereotyping, labeling from society.

Being a widow, by a divorce or death separated, is a major deal on this society. By having that status, you have to ready that people will stare at the back and make the opinion that you are about to lose the wealth or poor or difficult to suffice the daily needs for you and the children as well, because there is no spouse to do so for you. 

 I have secret for you, society, protect your own lover or husband to not fall for them, do not let them chat too long, help too often, or even laugh with them. 

By having status as a widow, every main thing will connect to economy and sexual theme. Economy theme will lead their thoughts that you are easy to lean on everyone that has lots of money. Also, It is not a problem being in affair with somebody's husband or being a second or third or so, as long as you can bath money. Well, if  money is not the main thing you count, it is alright to still have someone who holds or shares sexual desire with you. It is because you are so lonely, right? I am damn right. 

Fuck it, people.

Just fuck it. I can not process or even accept that way of thinking. Being widow for a woman is much harder. People use the word 'widow' to allow their logical fallacy of thinking to be true. With the word 'widow' for a women, people disgustingly related to anything lower; economy, morality, behavior. (I am sorry, I related this to my nearest experience). Cut that off!!!

Being a widow for a woman is a real struggle. If you, my good friend, want to know what they really pass on their life is, they actually spare their major time to work and pray. They try to stand up again after losing their life partner to continue the life. Life is keep walking and have to be continued even with the unlikeliest way. There is no time to think about so, to think about what most people have in mind about them and their activities. 

Clean up the mind, spare the time to think that stereotyping and labeling just make your head narrower. Do not see them by the status, but simply human. Respect them just like you want to be respected by others. 

The society is not yet mature enough, can not hope big on it though. But for you, my friends, I hope you do not swim your mind to those rushes. Please turn back, be mature and just respect everyone. For you who struggles on this patriarchy and misogyny world, my friends, even though we may not meet, cry, kiss or, even laugh together, I love you. With all my heart. 

Work of Words

People still have difficulty to move on since the movie Ada Apa Dengan Cinta? (What's With Love?) was aired again on telly. It could be said, regarded as one of many legendary movies in Indonesia. 12 years had passed since it aired on cinema then it back again with the sequel, which was sponsored by Line (kind of android chatting application). If I may give conclusion, the sequel was Blah!(capital B).Really, you do not have to see it, does not change anything but craving to see the 12 years old version. Seeing the old version also brought to another conclusion that actually Ada Apa Dengan Cinta (What's With Love?) is just like usual romantic teenage movie. The thing that made it legendary was (maybe) when it first launched in 2002, not many Indonesian movie was produced. 

It is just silly conclusion from a toothless then, so beat it. Anyway, still the movie had triggered people to read more of Chairul Anwar's works (tough, major of us only know Binatang Jalang) and Rangga officially became a favorite boyfriend material icon. Still, this four thumbs will be given to Line for such marketing strategies, really smart way to go (besides all of those crappiness and too much slow motion effect, for sure). They played with ex-Indonesian teenagers with memory, no one can refuse it. Good job, Line!

For I am an adorer of works of words, I still like it the poem that heard in the end of movie. It goes like this,

Perempuan datang atas nama Cinta

Bunda pergi karena Cinta

Digenangi air racun jingga adalah wajahmu

Seperti bulan lelap tidur di hatimu

Yang berdinding kelam dan kedinginan

Ada apa dengannya?

Meninggalkan hati untuk dicaci

Baru sekali ini aku melihat karya surga dalam mata seorang hawa

Ada apa dengan Cinta?

Tapi pasti aku akan kembali 

Dalam satu purnama untuk mempertanyakan kembali cintanya

Bukan untuknya, bukan untuk siapa

Tapi untukku

Karena aku ingin kamu

Itu saja.

Best way to woo women, there you go! Another work of words that founded amazing is on Vivian Idris. It goes like this,

Hari ini aku panah yang lepas

Menerabas jalan-jalan kota

Menerbangkan debu-debu jalan

Mengacaukan tenang daun-daun

Menyambar api yang kusematkan di rambut-rambut kota

Dan menari diiringi lagu kebangsaan

Tuhan, Bapak, Ibu

Aku ingin membangkang.

It seems I started to make another out of topic subject, so better end here. But, if really the past greet you again, would you greet them back? Or leave it then? Or what? Because I myself will respond "oh, fuck" instead of, "jadi satu purnama di...." well, it is just me. 

The Look of Silence (SENYAP)

I was having a little tantrum because of unpredictable notification on Gmail. That immature rage brought me to  Taman Ismail Marzuki alone, I was hoping that I still got the chance to watch documentary movie titled The Look of Silence by Joshua Oppenheimer. For you, who already have watched Jagal: The Act of Killing, must be know who that guy is. He is the director of both Jagal and The Look of Silence documentary movie.

The Looks of Silence's movie poster

I myself was more into this one than Jagal, both were amazingly disturbing but The Looks of Silence was more surreal and emotional because it used the view point of a Mother. The first line which a Mother sung in the beginning of the movie made my eyes swollen. Joshua was a wrecker because he made me laughed but guilty in the next second, until I could not anymore laughed. People were still bursting that they forgot about the object that they were laughing at,was the victim of deepest sadness and sorrow, who finally lost and chose to forget the sadness, then be numb in his 100th. This documentary movie, once again question the humanity issue in Indonesia and depict how Indonesian people see it. The result is unfortunately disappointing. You can see the culmination point of anger, sadness, disappointment, confused, and  rage on his eyes.

Adi Rukun (the main actor of SENYAP, brother of Ramli allegedly PKI)

History subject that our teachers had taught us in Elementary School to Senior High School just delivered a dichotomic conclusion, therefore bad or evil, right or wrong. It did not leave the students think critically cause the teacher just put in the dogma. That is what happens on our society seeing communism and G30S PKI. They blabber that communism is an atheist system, need to be demolished, so it is okay killing somebody that an atheist. Killing and drinking their blood, if I my add. Can you process that? killing somebody because one allegedly an atheist and drink their blood to keep sane? This is about humanity (and I believe no religion order their people to do so as well), no one allows to kill  another for being so. It is a violence of human rights! Our symbolic society keep choosing to be deaf anyway. 

Well, I ran out of the words. I can not say much but BRAVISSIMO to this work. I hope this kind of work will slowly but sure, open up the eyes of our society facing Indonesian humanity issue. Let us stop that gengsi act and mind this issue. I also hope many Indonesian sineas will be brave bring up this topic to us to a larger space. Thank you, Oppenheimer! 

Did You Ever See Anyone Shot by a Gun without Bleeding? -- Haruki Murakami on Sputnik Sweetheart

Why do people have to be this lonely? what's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? was the Earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?

I turned face-up on the slab of stone, gazed at the sky, and thought about all the man-made satellites spinning around the Earth. The horizon was still etched in a faint glow, and stars began to blink on in the deep, wine-coloured sky. I gazed among them for the light of the satellites, but it was still too bright out to spot one with naked eye. The sprinkling of starts looked nailed to the spot, unmoving. I closed my eyes and listened carefully for the descendants of Sputnik, even now circling the Earth, gratifying their only tie to the planet. Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part. Never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep. 

Sputnik II and Laika 

Over Analyzing

Religion started from a tranquility then ended with a construction in a tremendous moment. Buddha under the tree in Bodh Gaya, Moses in the top of the Sinai, Muhammad in the Cave of Hira. Every moment that has presented was a culmination and uncustomary when one felt the presence of the Most Powerful. The numinous, just like Rudolf Otto tried to describe, "mysterious, eeriness, and riveting". Saint Agustinus, 500 years ago, also amplified similar feeling, "I was trembling with love and thrill".

Religion started with a trembling, there were love and thrill, there were amor and horror. Centuries ago, after 'met' with the numinous, we are seeing something that no longer be solitude or silent. We are seeing glorious mosques, gigantic churches, golden Buddha statue which lies 14 meters, pagoda with the luminous top, majestic kenisah, and congregation people. Crowd.

Every religious's experiences are tried to be immortalized by something unbreakable, something strong. Which, those were all the shapes of a fantasy of something that can not be dead. Or something that loom, which that also include a shape of something that glorious, sublime, and noble. Or, something that shiny which shapes dazzling.  

In the end, it is no longer a solitude that takes over, but structure.

The thing that seldom be realised, structure is built by collected power. The same way as are about to build a business emporium, there were devices and strategies. There is no 'magic' moment anymore because calculation is the top of the matter. Time is becoming to be something that can be measured. Time becomes seculum.

That is how exactly secular possessed religiousness.

Happy Holy Friday dan Selamat Idul Adha. 

Не Первая Любовь, Только Снег Идёт (Not a First Love, Just a falling Snow)

Will be gladly if we can recall again the previous post titled 'Милый,Мой Старик'. Gladly, the continuity has been found. It was not that hard to find the continuity for you just flipped the next page (yes, please judge me, oh society). Better we face the truth then on that page which this toothless found. Ok, here we go, my friend, the story Снег (Snow) by К. Паустовский.

The previous story was ended in the scene where Potapov just stayed out the house and made a thought about coming home. While he was made an insightful thought, suddenly Mrs. Petrovna saw him and insisted him to come in. She already had sense that the guy was Potapov, her step son. The scene was describing that Potapov had a fancy and blank tea conversation with the host in the house, including Varya, Petrovna's daughter. An awkward conversation also happened between they both. Hours had passed, came the time where Potapov should have back to the battle-field-nature (for he is a Soviet soldier). Petrovna just said "Пишите. Мы теперь как родные. Правда?" (Write please, we are already just like 'family', right?". But Potapov did not say any single word to respond. Then, several days later after Potapov's visiting, He did wrote to Petrovna. The letter went like this:

"Я вспомнил, конечно, где мы встрачались. Помните Крым в двадцать седьмом году? Осень. Старый Ливадийский парк. Я шёл по дорожке в Ореанду. На скамейке около дорожки сидела девушка. Ей было, наверное, лет  шестнадцать. Она увидела меня, встала и пошла навстречу. Я смотрел на её. Она прошла мимо меня быстро, легко, держа в руке открытую книгу. Я остановился и долго смотрел на её. Это были Вы. Я смотрел тогда и чувствовал, что мимо меня прошла женщина, которая могла бы и разрушить всю мою жизнь и дать мне огромное счастье. Я понял, что могу очень сильно полюбить эту женщину. Тогда я уже знал, что должен найти вас во что бы то ни стало. Так я думал тогда, но всё же не двинулся с места. Почему -- не знаю. С тех пор я полюбил Крым и эту дорожку, где я видел Вас однажды и потерял. И вот Я опять встретил Вас. Если всё кончится хорошо и Вам нужна будет моя жизнь, она, конечно, будет Ваша. Да, я нашёл на столе у отца свое распечатанное письмо. Я понял всё и могу только поблагодарить Вас"

(I remembered, of course, where we met. Don't you remember year 1927? Autumn. Old Livadiskiy Park. I went on a way to Oreanda. On a bench there was a girl sat. She was, maybe, sixteen years old. She saw me, stood up and walked towards me. I saw her. She passed me quickly, easily, with her book on hand. I stopped and watched her long. She was you. I looked and felt that near me there was a woman, that maybe could destroy my whole life and give me warm happiness. I sensed that I could strongly love her. I then knew, that I should have looked for you by all means. I knew it but did not make any move even a little. Why? I dont know. I always love Krimea and it's path since all this time, where I saw you that day then disappeared. And again, I met you. If only all this happenings have to end well and you have to be my life, my life, off course,  will be yours too. Yes, I saw Papa's letters on the table. I see everything and can only say thank you.)

Yes, maybe one can think how romantic, sweet and naive he was. I myself hardly believe on a first-sight-love-kind-of-thing. Potapov kinda ruin my imagination though, kinda disappointed to him that he acted like a regular man near beautiful woman (not his false either). But couldn't he remember that Petrovna is his step mother? his Late Papa's wife? Those which he supposed to remember at the first place. 

Does not matter, the respond of Petrovna herself was unpredictable and...funny if can be said. It went like this:

"Боже мой, я никогда не была в Крыму! никогда! Но может ли теперь это иметь значение?"

(Oh my God, I have never been on Krimea! never! But could that be important now?)

Она засмеялась, закрыла глаза рукой. За окном горел и никак не мог погаснуть неяркий закат. 

(She laughed, closed her eyes with hands. Outside the window, snow has burned and the harmless rejection can not that easily be delivered.)

You have just mistaken me with somebody that already you knew too well, young man.