Putri's delusion<\/p>\n
By Mark P. Kancana<\/p>\n
The candle merrily flickered a warm glow inside its glass case
\non top of the white tablecloth. Putri looked at this source of
\ndancing light with her head rested lightly on her dainty fingers
\nand her elbows on the table. She shifted her attention, looking
\nout of the window where she saw a luminous and overcrowded night
\ntime Jakarta from the 25th floor of the Residence Luna Building.
\nShe was celebrating her second wedding anniversary with her
\nhusband, Ari, at the French Le Char restaurant. She wanted to be
\nhappy at the moment. She listened to the pianoman playing some
\nclassical tune and paused, before she silently said to herself,
\n\"I should be happy.\"<\/p>\n
That night on the 24th of February, she was having a romantic
\ncandle-lit dinner with her loving husband who sat across from
\nher. He wore a gray three piece Giorgio Armani suit and a
\nValentino tie she bought for him for last New Year's celebration
\nat the Shangri-La Hotel. Through her eyes, his well groomed dark
\nhair glistened softly as he carefully spooned his bowl of corn
\npotage soup, his favorite cream soup. She would now and then
\ncrack a smile at him whenever he looked up at her. Then, she
\nwould see him indulge in his soup and occasionally pour tabasco
\nsauce into his bowl. His dark brown eyes sparkled and reminded
\nher of the day they first met five years ago.<\/p>\n
Those were the very eyes that took her breath away. She was in
\nlove with him then and still is now. But her heart was afraid of
\nwhat she suspected to be true. This was supposed to be their
\nsecond wedding anniversary celebration, but something was amiss.
\nBehind his seemingly natural loving gestures there was an oddity.
\nHe was perfectly loving, almost as if it were calculated. The way
\nhe opened the car door before they entered the building, the way
\nhe took her hand into his and even the way he kissed her. It was
\npassionate yet different. It was all too perfect.<\/p>\n
That morning, she thought Ari almost forgot about her wedding
\nanniversary. But somehow two stems of red roses appeared by her
\nbedside the very morning before she woke up. They were ordered at
\na 24-hour florist near from her house. It was 10 days after
\nValentine's Day. Just 10 days after Ari's so called \"business
\ntrip\" to Bali. It's Saturday night today, she mused as she took
\nthe crystal water cup from the wooden table and observed Ari
\nclosely through her dubious eyes.<\/p>\n
From Ari's peculiar gestures, she imagined that his mind was
\nstill savoring the night he spent in Bali on the 14th during his
\n\"business trip\". As Ari's faithful wife, Putri does not believe
\nin celebrating Valentine's Day. To her the day to celebrate love
\nshould be any day and not confined to just one day. She thought
\nof it as a Western tradition not fit for an Indonesian woman. So,
\nit did not bother Putri that her husband was off on a business
\ntrip on Valentine's Day. He was a busy man and it was expected of
\nhim to travel extensively to tend to his business. So, on the
\nnight of the 14th, she contemplated amicable thoughts about her
\nhusband, who was, actually, laboring long and hard at the beach
\nin Nusa Dua, showering mundane pleasures to his recent lover,
\nLisa. On the beach amidst the crashing waves and the whistling of
\nthe wind, Cupid's arrow cast its spell and delivered these secret
\nlovers into a lustful bliss.<\/p>\n
She ordered two 150-gram tenderloin steaks cooked medium rare
\nwith an appetizing dark mushroom sauce for their main course. It
\nreminded her of the first time they met. She was an air hostess
\ntrainee at Elang Air. It was during the session at Jane Ruppert
\nPowels School for character development, when Ari's hypnotizing
\neyes first captivated Putri. Ari was there to make up the table
\nmanner session. At the time, she had never eaten a tenderloin
\nsteak before and having somebody look at her like Ari, made her
\neven more nervous. Both of them were not used to eating Western
\nfood. So, trying to cut the meat with a knife and eat it with a
\nfork was a task unto itself, even without somebody staring at
\nher. It was something new to her, but she had always wanted to
\nlearn all this. And being a stewardess, she thought, would allow
\nher to see the world. She wanted a change from her shielded
\nexistence in a traditional middle class household. She rebelled
\nfrom her father and with much pain and persistence finally got
\nher way.<\/p>\n
Similarly, Ari as she remembered was not from a rich family
\nbut he was driven and determined. He studied hard and made it to
\nlaw school at the University of Indonesia on a scholarship. He
\ngraduated cum laude and was recruited by the best private law
\nfirm in the country, Ahmad Buyung Siregar and Associates. He went
\nthrough many training sessions and though he was new, was well
\nliked at the firm due to his ability to fit in. Knowing how to
\nact and how to be helpful without attracting too much attention
\nwas his specialty. He knew what the mentality of the Indonesian
\nsenior officers was like and managed to get on their good side.<\/p>\n
But there was one thing he wanted the most: he wanted to carry
\nhis family to the top of the social ladder. He wanted to be the
\none to have an office on the highest floor of the Wisma Indosemen
\nBuilding. He wanted to be respected for his power and wealth. He
\nwanted everything he could achieve within his lifetime, no matter
\nwhat it took.<\/p>\n
Putri knew he was boldly ambitious, yet somehow lost in his
\nblind appetite for success. Putri knew only that she could put
\nhim back on track. She knew she was the rain that tamed the ever
\nraging forest fire that he was. She was a calming element in his
\nlife. She was so sure of that.<\/p>\n
\"Don't you think it's beautiful up here, Ari?\" Putri asked,
\nbreaking the silence. She did not expect an answer. She looked
\ndown at the streets and saw a red and white band of car lights,
\nresembling a strip of bright ribbon covering the length of
\nThamrin street.<\/p>\n
The traffic was still held up by routine evening congestion.
\nThe cars inched along the road, carrying people from their work
\nplaces to their homes. They were still a luxury for many in
\nJakarta. For Putri, the luxury was to spend time in a romantic
\nsetting with Ari.<\/p>\n
\"Ari, you look unusually handsome tonight,\" she complimented
\nhim, watching him grin with a slight embarrassment. But he still
\nkept quiet.<\/p>\n
\"You know, if I'm not careful I could easily lose you to
\nsomebody else,\" she said jokingly while wishing to God that it
\nwould never happen to her. She wanted desperately to know... to
\nfeel that he would always be by her side forever, no matter what
\nit took and no matter what happened to either of them. She loved
\nhim with all her heart and she knew she would never let him go.
\nNever. She would do whatever was necessary to keep them together.
\nWhatever was necessary.<\/p>\n
\"Ari, darling, did you have a rough time at the office today?\"
\nshe tried to sound congenial while pretending he was there. \"You
\nhaven't told me about what happen to you at the office in ages,\"
\nshe continued. \"You're so quiet. You still don't get along with
\nMr. Bambang, right? I know he's a bit tough to deal with but
\nthat's life, honey. He's your boss. Remember the saying that your
\nboss is always right. So the answer to your problems is just to
\nbe patient and strive to become the boss, right? Sometimes we
\nmust cope. And of all people I know you know that.\"<\/p>\n
She extended her arms and put her hands across the table on
\ntop of the white tablecloth in a vain attempt to comfort him. She
\nwas happy when she could comfort Ari. It made her feel important
\nand secure. She loved him. She sat there listening only to the
\nsound of her breath and was pleased. Yet, for a fleeting instant
\nshe was disturbed by an unfortunate recollection. She creased her
\nforehead as she reminisced about the scarlet past and placed her
\nfisted left hand under her chin.<\/p>\n
She said, as if to thin air, \"Ari, have you ever thought of
\nour child?\" She abruptly looked across the table into the eyes of
\nhis mirage. \"You know we can still have another child, don't
\nworry about what happened to me. It was an accident. It was not
\nyour fault.\"<\/p>\n
She pulled her body upright and stroked her black velvet
\nevening gown to remove any wrinkles in her stomach and took a
\ndeep breath of remembrance. \"I was six months pregnant then and I
\nlost our little Alya,\" she took another deep gulp of air and
\nsighed. \"I don't know why I had to fall down and...lose her.\" She
\ncocked her head slightly in an angle and teardrops rolled down
\nher silky light skin, falling onto her cheeks and continuing down
\nto the tablecloth.<\/p>\n
\"But why? Was it God's will? We had to lose her...\" she almost
\nwhispered and looked down searching for the answers to her own
\nquestions. \"But Ari,\" she exclaimed as she once again looked at
\nthe emptiness across her, \"we still need to care for her, you
\nknow. She was our daughter. We should visit her tomorrow and put
\nsome flowers on her home at Tanah Kusir.\"<\/p>\n
She leaned forward, pressed her breast against the side of the
\ntable as her hands mimicked the gesture of putting flowers on a
\ngrave using those found in the vase in front of her. She
\ncarefully placed three of the white chrysanthemums on her napkin.<\/p>\n
\"Why won't you go with me?\" she asked accusingly. \"I
\nunderstand that it was our mistake when we first conceived her.
\nWe weren't even married then. But you said you were going to
\nmarry me right away, didn't you? Ari, why did you have to lie to
\nme? If you had married me on February 24th two years ago as you
\nhad promised none of this would have happened. At least, if you
\nhad already proposed to me, we wouldn't have been in that
\nargument and I wouldn't have fallen down. Remember? Please say
\nsomething, honey! Your silence is killing me.\"<\/p>\n
Her heartbeat increased and her face became warm. \"Ari, if we
\nhadn't fought that day I wouldn't have fallen down from those
\nsteps and Alya would still be with us. Don't you understand
\nthat?\" Her voice continued to rise, \"Ari don't you understand we
\nhave a child together and she will always be part of our lives.
\nWe have to try to work things out between us darling, for our
\nlittle Alya.\"<\/p>\n
She sighed and looked out of the window towards the dark and
\ncloudy sky. She continued her protestation. \"Yes, for our little
\nAlya we need to work on our marriage, darling. I forgive all of
\nyour faults. Now we need to think of our future, our house,
\nAlya's brothers and sisters and.....\"<\/p>\n
She paused abruptly and grasped her gown. She took a deep
\nbreath, almost realizing, for once, that she was all alone there
\nat the table. She mumbled some words and gazed at the splendid
\nscenery. She grimaced and uttered, \"Isn't it so beautiful up here
\nAri?\"<\/p>\n
Putri's eyes wandered dreamily into Jakarta's bright maze of
\nbuildings. She saw the brilliance of the night, unaware of the
\npretense of the city. Hidden behind this radiance was
\nrestlessness and the social puzzles of metropolitan life.<\/p>\n
Tightly and close to her heart, she clutched the stems of the
\ntwo red roses she received two weeks ago. She stared at the
\nblinding street lights of Jakarta beyond the windows of her room.
\nIn the darkness of her chamber at Grogol Mental Hospital, she
\npaced across the tile floor in her rubber slippers. She stopped
\nat intervals when she passed the bars of street illumination
\nentering the room through the barred windows.<\/p>\n
That night, she was sure Ari still loved her. In her mind
\nnothing could change that. The Ari that got married to Lisa last
\nValentine's Day was not the Ari she knew. The fact that Ari and
\nLisa had spent their honeymoon at the Nusa Dua Beach Hotel did
\nnot change Putri's mind. She knew Ari, Alya's father, would
\nalways love her and had promised to work on their marriage.<\/p>\n
\"He said so himself at Le Char restaurant that night,\" she
\nthought to herself. In fact, she still saw him in the room with
\nher. He did not leave her. He would always be there with her. The
\nroses were still in her arms, dried up and dead. The usually dark
\nred tint of the roses was gray under the night light. There was a
\ndeafening silence surrounding her. She stared at the corner of
\nher chamber and saw little Alya sitting at the corner near her
\nfather. Her heart was content. Her family was not lost after all.<\/p>\n
Mark S. Laksana is a pen name of Mariam K. Sutalaksana. She
\nwas born in Jakarta but globe-trotting is part of her life's
\nmission. She attended college in the United States and lived
\nthere for eight years. Sutalaksana also lived in Malaysia for
\nfour years and has traveled extensively in Asia, Europe, Africa
\nand South America. Currently she is a director for a
\nmanufacturing and trade company and is pursuing her writing
\ninterests. Last year she began contributing articles, mostly on
\ndance, to The Jakarta Post. She has written in both Indonesian
\nand English, and Putri's Delusion was her first published short
\nstory. At 24, she expects to continue writing both fiction and
\nnon-fiction and hopes to have a book in print in the near future.<\/p>",
"url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/putris-delusion-1447893297",
"image": ""
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"sponsor": "Okusi Associates",
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