Dream and Happiness

Semua yang mengenal saya pasti tahu, bahwa saya hampir tidak reaktif terhadap apapun. Prinsipnya when it has nothing to do with me, it doesn’t concern me. Bahkan sejak kecil. Saya hampir tidak terlalu excited terhadap apapun. Juara kelas, muka saya tetap datar. Juara antar kelas, datar. Juara melukis, datar. Dapat beasiswa, datar. Tapi tentu saja ada saat saya cengengesan, tertawa terbahak-bahak. Yang tadinya tidak mengenal pasti menganggap saya jutek, judes. Bila sudah mengenal, komentarnya akan berbeda because I’m quite goofy around my people.

Ada masa teman-teman saya sekost ribut menyelamatkan seekor anak kucing, induknya di balkon kosan dengan nestapa meraih anak kucing yang entah bagaimana sudah di atas atap pintu gerbang kosan.

Bagaimana jahanam kecil itu ada di sana?

Ributlah beberapa teman mencoba meraih anak kucing itu dari balkon. Sebelumnya saya beri gambaran sedikit bentuk kosan saya dulu, seperti huruf U besar, menghadap jalan di bagian U terbukanya. Maksud saya pas bagian U lengkungan adalah bagian belakang.

Ya tidak apa-apa kalau bingung membayangkan.

Nah bangunan ini dua lantai. Bagian atas, berbalkon. Ada taman kecil terbuka mengisi huruf U itu, di tengah memisahkan antar kamar yang saling berhadapan. Bapak kosan kami, Pak Abang, saya lupa nama aslinya, kami selalu memanggilnya begitu, adalah lulusan ITB sehingga rancangan kosan itu, Resik namanya, sangat bagus kalau menurut standar saya yang buta ilmu arsitektur ini. Bahkan bagian dapur memiliki cerobong asap untuk mengeluarkan asap masakan, yang pada masa itu belum common di masyarakat kita. Kosan itu adalah kosan paling lama dan nyaman setelah kosan saya terdahulu. Bonus hantu-hantu. Dan segala intrik penghuninya. Akan saya ceritakan lain kali. Ga kalah serulah dibanding drama korea Age of Youth.

Jadi. Diupayakan segala cara untuk meraih anak kucing itu, oleh teman-teman saya. Saya bagaimana? Saya berdiri bersandar di dinding depan kamar saya, melipat tangan, melihat segala progress penyelamatan itu. Buat apa saya ikut ribut? Kebanyakan tangan bukannya anak kucing dan induknya jadi tambah stress? Ya akhirnya anak kucing itu berhasil diambil dengan ranting atau gagang sapu saya lupa persisnya. Teman-teman bersorak gembira. Saya? Saya datar. Dan bersyukur dalam hati. Lalu masuk kamar, nonton film lagi. That was how exactly I lived my life until 2001. It all just changed when I had a short blurred dream.

Previously, before we talk about this dream, I questioned a lot when my friend dating seriously. Like, seriously? My relationship(s) always ended because I saw nothing exciting in dating. And that friend took relationship very seriously, it almost inspired me. Very seriously she already married three times the last time I made contact with her on 2013. All her previous marriages ended because she felt not loved much. I had no idea about her latest ones. All I can conclude that love is very important for her. And I was stunned, why I didn’t feel that blushy face on my relationship(s)? So exciting to meet, to get a call, to go to movie? She has something to be achieved.

So are other friends. One was so excited about her hobby to hike mountains. And the pictures were gorgeous. The other ones so excited about foods. The other ones so excited about playing music instruments. I played piano when I was a kid and I barely remembered how to. I barely remembered how to draw sketch I was really good. I didn’t fancy them. I was just living until I had my dream. I woke up blushing and told some friends about it though they laughed because it sounded ridiculous. I didn’t care. I have something to cheer me up.

I never have anything I really wanna see to be happened before.

And the dream came, it changed my perspective, I saw a life goal to achieved (seriously Efi?). I never had a thing to amuse me before. It just gave me hope to see it works. I wanted to feel the coincident. I wanted to see the magic. It motivated me to make imagination. I began to write.

What was the dream about? It doesn’t really matter for anyone at the moment, but it matters for me. What I’m saying is (wait, did I just write the rest of the writing in English? Whatever) I have a thing like others do and my first short story published on September 2002 under my writer alias name; about a man on a train and his dream. When I received the copy, a boarding house mate handed it to me directly to my door, I cheered up, happily shout and hugged her. She stared me confusedly. You cheered up, she said, you never did that before, she said.

So when anyone ruined my imagination of my dream, It’s  kinda sucks.