The turtle dove<\/p>\n
By Abrar Yusra<\/p>\n
Two days after his return from his hometown in Java -- to
\nvisit one of his children, in-laws and grandchildren -- Pak
\nDarwis carried the cage of his turtle dove from his wife's house
\nto her daughter Sakdiyah. It was still very early in the morning.
\nThe old man grumbled in his deep and hoarse voice.<\/p>\n
"My turtle dove almost died in its cage," he grumbled, "so I
\ngot rid of your aunt, damn wife! While I was gone my bird
\nsuffered from want of water and wheat because your aunt spent the
\nwhole day dressing up and then gossiping with the neighbors. And
\nyou forced me to remarry. She never loved me!"<\/p>\n
Pak Darwis continued to grumble. Complaining was his habit.<\/p>\n
Sakdiyah, who was far into her pregnancy, could only listen.
\nIt was hard for her to decide whether to laugh or cry listening
\nto her father's complaints. She had not yet started cooking, not
\nyet taken her bath, and not yet changed into fresh clothes. She
\nwas busy trying to figure out how not to get pregnant again. As
\nit was, having two children was already too much for her. Her
\nhusband Kulipah, a trader who hawked his merchandise from one
\nmarket to another around Bukittingi, had left at dawn.<\/p>\n
Now, her father was bothering her with such trivial,
\ninconceivable things, adding to her problem of raising two
\ndelinquent children. It would be useless for Sakdiyah to try to
\nfind the core problem behind the turtle dove issue and calm her
\nfather.<\/p>\n
"Look, it's skinny," he said, "must have been ill. It has not
\nsung ever since my return from Java. It used to sing all the
\ntime, my bird."<\/p>\n
"It's all right, Pak, I understand," said Sakdiyah calmly, "We
\nare happy to have you back with us."<\/p>\n
She was only trying to stop her father's grumbling, thinking
\nall men were incomprehensible and irresponsible. Only thinking of
\ntheir personal pleasures. Her husband did not give a damn about
\nher, whether she would get pregnant again. His only interest was
\nhis merchandise and the money he owed people and the sum people
\nowed him. But this man was her own father. Sakdiyah could only
\npicture herself going to Aunt Yuliana, her stepmother, and
\ntelling her, "Don't ignore father, I've told you he is a
\ncomplainer. It's easy actually, it can be managed, as long as you
\ndon't fight back. If he grumbles, let him. Okay?"<\/p>\n
Pak Darwis is a small man. He was a former government employee
\nwho served his superior like a slave, running errands in the
\ntown. But at home in the city's outskirt he was like a king and
\nwas respected by the villagers. That was because he did not have
\nto kill himself working in the rice fields and the farm. Now, in
\nhis old age, his only task was to go to the post office on the
\nfifth of each month to collect his pension.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile it was common knowledge that his rice fields and
\nfarm which he inherited from his parents were well tended. Pak
\nDarwis always hired people to work in his fields and farm under
\nthe heat of the sun and the deluge of rains. When he did go to
\nhis rice fields it was only to step on the paths, a sign that he
\nowned the rice fields.<\/p>\n
That morning he stayed at his daughter's house. Whenever
\nsomeone who happened to come by asked him why he was there he
\nwould start rattling about his bird and reproaching his young
\nwife.<\/p>\n
Soon the whole village found out about the big problem faced
\nby little Pak Darwis. That his young wife did not take good care
\nof his bird. The villagers, who were mostly elderly, shared Pak
\nDarwis' predicament.<\/p>\n
"His wife must have been a mischievous woman who married an
\nold man for his pension. But she does not give a damn about his
\nbird," they all said.<\/p>\n
At Sakdiyah's house, Pak Darwis spent most of the time alone.
\nMorning and afternoon was spent drinking coffee on the verandah.
\nHis son-in-law usually returned home at dusk or at night, so all
\nPak Darwis did was play with his bird in the house compound. So
\nimmersed was he with his bird, his only enjoyment in this world,
\nhe often forgot to take a bath or eat breakfast.<\/p>\n
Pak Darwis felt lonely and forlorn at his daughter's house. He
\nwas actually facing a new problem but did not know what to do.
\nAnd it was, he thought, about his turtle dove.<\/p>\n
It had been quite sometime since Pak Darwis lived in the house
\nhe built and now he felt there was something strange there. The
\nhouse looked unkempt. Although they were both patient and
\ndiligent, Sakdiyah was not as detailed as her mother in taking
\ncare of the house.<\/p>\n
"What do children and women do these days?" Darwis thought.
\nHis mind then flew to Yuliana, his irksome wife. He felt his
\nmarriage to Yuliana a burden. It was understandable as Yuliana
\nwas still young, loved to dress up, and was very demanding and
\nrestless. She demanded a lot of attention instead of giving it.
\nThe rumbling passion in Yuliana's body and heart simply
\ndiscouraged her aging husband.<\/p>\n
Pak Darwis stepped into the front yard. He carried his bird
\ncage -- the round, cute cage with its square velvet cover
\nembroidered in gold, whose ends were adorned with four velvet
\nballs as red as the skin of the reddest mangosteen and as big as
\na mango. It was very expensive.<\/p>\n
He hung the cage on a branch of the mangkajilu tree. The same
\nold place when his wife was still alive and before he married
\nYuliana. He slid up part of the velvet cover to allow the morning
\nsun to bathe his bird.<\/p>\n
The turtle dove in the cage was restless. It never stayed
\nstill, especially when it saw the morning light. The bird ran
\naround frantically, trying to find a way out. Its eyes were
\nbright. The bird's clear heavy-lidded eyes reflected loneliness
\nand life's simple freedom in the small space that sometimes made
\nit restless and confused.<\/p>\n
His only delight was to dream of listening to his bird singing
\nto the world. No, to his gloomy heart.<\/p>\n
It was rare for ordinary people to have an interest in a
\nturtle dove. Only Saona, his late wife, although she knew nothing
\nabout turtle doves, always felt it necessary to compliment the
\nbird or her husband whenever she heard it singing.<\/p>\n
"Your bird reminds me of my late grandfather," she said.
\n"Grandfather said only the kings like turtle doves. Or the top
\nofficials in the olden days. In our village, that's what my
\ngrandfather said, only Tuanku Laras and rich officials could
\nafford to have a turtle dove. There are many who own turtle
\ndoves, but only a few can sing."<\/p>\n
Since then Pak Darwis, who was basically an errand man, felt
\nhe had a higher status at home and in his village because he
\nowned a turtle dove. However, not to feel inferior to his wife
\nSaona, Pak Darwis boasted to his wife.<\/p>\n
"What do you know about turtle doves?" Pak Darwis started,
\nlaughing, trying to look down at the woman who was slightly
\ntaller than him. "There are turtle doves with mystical power.
\nMagical power. If he sings in the middle of the night that means
\nthere will be danger or chaos. Maybe there are robbers who will
\ntry to get into the house or there will be a fire. You don't know
\nanything, but in Java it is called perkutut and it can cost up to
\nmillions of rupiah. It is no ordinary bird and not a plaything of
\nordinary men. If your husband were an ordinary man there would
\nnot be a turtle dove in this house."<\/p>\n
Saona did not say anything anymore. Everything her husband
\nsaid passed through her ears like a breeze. But that was the
\nbeginning of Pak Darwis' infatuation with the turtle dove.
\nEventually Pak Darwis preferred to stay at home.<\/p>\n
The bird always reminded him of his late wife. Then of his
\nloneliness and gloomy life. Then, unexpectedly, the bird stopped
\nsinging. For hours Pak Darwis plucked his fingers and made a
\nthroaty sound "A-aa, a-aa," to urge the bird to sing. But the
\nturtle dove only stared at him with his simple, questioning eyes.
\nSometimes Pak Darwis felt it was a mistake to own the bird and
\nfelt like letting it loose or crushing it to death.<\/p>\n
The bird's refusal to sing created a problem once Pak Darwis
\nleft Yuliana. The world became smaller at Sakdiyah's house and
\nall things that brought pleasure became a burden after his
\nson-in-law Kulipah gave his view on the bird.<\/p>\n
Kulipah was only a junior high school graduate, however, he
\nwas a cheerful man. He was carefree and very resourceful like
\nmost traders are, which was why he succeeded in marrying
\nSakdiyah. At least that was what Pak Darwis thought. At a glance,
\nPak Darwis' relationship with his son-in-law was good. However,
\nthe two had always been at odds because Pak Darwis had always
\nwanted a government employee for a son-in-law. Although they
\nlived in a same house, they rarely saw each other. When his son-
\nin-law returned home late at night from his business, Pak Darwis
\nwould pretend he was asleep.<\/p>\n
Pak Darwis thought his son-in-law did not like turtle doves
\nand probably did not give a damn about any kind of bird. However,
\none night Kulipah asked his wife,"How 's father's bird?"<\/p>\n
"Poor thing, it refuses to sing although father laughs at it."<\/p>\n
Kulipah laughed. To Pak Darwis he sounded as if he was making
\nfun of him.<\/p>\n
"The bird is sick and is given pills. But it's no use. Poor
\nfather," Sakdiyah was heard saying.<\/p>\n
"Then, why not let it free," Kulipah asked.<\/p>\n
It was hard to judge whether his son-in-law was serious or
\nsimply joking. What Pak Darwis felt was that he was alienated in
\nhis own world, the world of his turtle dove, which was only a
\njoke to others or created a feeling of pity. A joke to a
\nprestigious world his late wife Saona imagined.<\/p>\n
That morning when he hung the cage on the mangkajilu tree the
\nturtle dove looked fine. Nothing had changed with the tree or the
\nbird. But that morning Pak Darwis felt he had hung the cage on
\nthe wrong branch. And unlike before, the bird refused to sing.<\/p>\n
The only thing Pak Darwis wanted to do was to leave Sakdiyah's
\nhouse, leave the house he built himself. Or strangle the cursed
\nbird to death, the bird which refused to sing.<\/p>\n
Both impossible wishes as he was old.<\/p>\n
Translated by Adhi I.M.<\/p>\n
Abrar Yusra was born in Lawang, Bukittinggi, West Sumatra, on
\nMarch 28, 1943. From 1973 until 1986 he was a reporter and then
\nmanaging editor of Singgalang daily in Padang. He supports his
\nfamily of four children by writing. His poems have been published
\nin various anthologies. His short story Burung Ketitiran appears
\nin Kado Istimewa: Cerpen Pilihan Kompas 1992 (A Special Gift: An
\nAnthology of Kompas Short Stories 1992). It is reprinted here by
\ncourtesy of the Kompas daily.<\/p>",
"url": "https:\/\/jawawa.id\/newsitem\/the-turtle-dove-1447899208",
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