Beautiful Eyes

By Budi Darma

Not long before my mother died she stroked my hair and said: "Haruman, look into my eyes." I did as I was told and found a soft glow like the light of a burning candle about to fade away. Both the wax and wick were nearing the end, when the glow is very gentle, much different from a burning candle which is challenging a strong wind.

Deep in my heart I realized that my mother would soon die. And I was also sure that for her, death would be an act of submitting to God's will.

Suddenly I smell a soft and refreshing fragrance coming from some mysterious corner. The smell reminds me of a story my mother told me when I was a young boy.

"Haruman," she said, "on the day I have to leave this world Heaven will send us a fragrance."

"Who will send it?"

"An angel," she said. "Remember Haruman, everything has a beginning and an end, the same is true for our lives. When a person is about to die an angel will hover over the place where he or she will take his or her last breath. In some cases the angel will bring nothing with it, but in other cases it will bring with it misfortune. This misfortune will be accompanied by sounds or smells which are beyond human imagination. So in the span of your worldly life you should do as many good deeds as possible, so that before your day comes the angel will arrive with a great sign."

I remember that my mother always did good deeds and helped the poor. She told me to follow suit. Taking her noble advice, I always tried to help others the best I could.

One day -- I've forgotten how old I was -- my mother asked me to leave her, though she did not say to where.

"You can go anywhere to seek a new life. And one day you will know it is time to come home. You can forget me, Haruman, but don't forget my advice."

So I went away to start my life away from home. During this time I worked on a traditional ferry, I felled trees in a remote jungle, I repaired houses in a village and did other manual labor. But in my adventures, during which I always remembered and practiced my mother's advice, I sensed I was always the target of other people's suspicion. They began to suspect me as soon as they saw me.

I did not understand why this was so. They might have suspected I was a thief, a killer or an embezzler. I did not know. I always felt like an unwanted guest, although I never had any bad feelings for others and certainly never did anything disgraceful.

So I moved from one place to another. The longest I stayed in one place was three days. I did this because I did not want to burden the people who gave me a place to sleep.

One day when I was walking toward a village a large eagle appeared from nowhere and attacked me. I managed to cover my face with my hands and the bird flew away, only to return and attack me again.

After several fruitless efforts to pluck out my eyes it flew away, leaving me alone crying in pain from my bloodied hands and rolling on the ground for days.

In the past, bitter experiences and painful assaults did not make me cry for my mother's help, because she told me I should forget her. But this time, while I was rolling on the ground, I remembered a story she had told me when I was a child.

"Haruman," she said to me, "wise men say great travelers never stay in one place for more than three days because this would cause disorder. Haruman, please never forget this wisdom."

No sooner had I recalled this story than I forgot my mother and her other sayings.

My injured hands affected my ability to work. I had also lost my vigor. After the attack I sometimes became feverish and would lose my balance. When this happened I could not walk normally and sometimes I cried from the pain. But I still had to work to survive, for I could not even think of begging.

I returned to my job as a ferryman. But this time the ferry was in a remote village. There is a story about how I found this job. One day while I was sleeping under a shade tree an old man fell on top of me. He fell so hard that he rolled off and onto the ground. He had a pair of beautiful and bright eyes, but I suspected something was wrong with these eyes because they looked sick.

"Are you a young man? He asked.

"Yes, I am."

He looked straight into my eyes, but I could tell that he was blind.

"I'm sorry to say that I have had trouble with my eyes for years. Perhaps you don't know this, but I'm the only ferryman in this village because it is the only job I can do. But passengers are rare."

The man introduced himself as Gues. His physique was the same as mine, as was his manner of walking. After introducing himself, the man took me to his ferry. But after showing me the boat he vanished. I was shocked by how he disappeared and could not understand how he walked and poled the ferry because I was sure he was totally blind.

I waited in vain for passengers. With night approaching I began to get worried. Soon midnight neared and with no sign that the blind man would return, I decided to tie up the ferry and return to the tree under which I had been sleeping.

I do not know how long I had been asleep when I was awakened by a soft hand stroking my head. Since it was very dark I could not see who the person was, but I felt it was a woman.

I felt a pair of lips cover my mouth and a warm breath on my face. And I heard a soft voice speaking to me, but it was angry: "Gues, why have you never treated me like your wife? Give me children. If not, when you die who will take care of me?"

I managed to throw Gues' wife off me. She tried to seize me but I kept running. I heard her cry: "Gues! Gues! Am I not your wife?"

As I ran I understood how Gues managed to walk and handle his boat. He must have lived here for so long that he had memorized all the lanes and paths. He bumped against me that day because before that day nobody had stood in his way.

The woman realized I was not Gues when she saw that I trod paths her husband had never trodden. So she screamed her forgiveness.

Her remorse touched me deeply. Although I had never touched a woman before, I felt I had abused someone's wife. I was deeply ashamed. Crying, I left the village.

My heart's wound will never be healed. I feel I am living in hell for my sins. Hell is my eternal abode because I will never be absolved of my sins.

So I continued to travel; I don't want to remember for how long I wandered. Then one day I saw in my mind's eye my mother's face, and decided to go home by the same paths that had taken me here.

When I arrived home I found the village in a dreadful condition. Dust choked the air, many houses had been razed, trees were parched, the ground was cracked and the river was nothing but a trickle. The village was deserted. The only person remaining was my mother. She said she had stayed because she was convinced I would return.

As I talked to her I sensed she was ready to die. When she saw me coming she looked like she was welcoming the shadow of death. My mother stroked my head, like she did when I was I child. I remembered a story she had told me when I was young. She told me an angel would eventually visit every person.

"Haruman, forgive me because my prayers for an angel to come have not been answered. So when your time comes no angel will visit you. I hope she will come to pick you up after you die. She will be your wife in heaven."

Immediately after my mother finished speaking I was struck blind.

"Haruman, please hear my confession. I ravished a man once, but I don't know who he was. I fell in love with his eyes, which were so bright. They were brighter than gods' marbles. That night I slept soundly and had a dream."

In the dream, my mother said, she had to shoulder the unbearable burden of sin because she was expecting an illegitimate child. The child would be without eyes. But an angel came and expressed great sympathy for the baby's condition. She soon flew away and returned with a pair of beautiful eyes.

"'Let me tell you, oh unfortunate woman,'" she said, "'so deep was my sympathy for you that I went away and plucked someone's eyes. I don't know who he was. I have no idea if in his life he was a noble-hearted man. His soul is still floating, meaning it has not been decided whether it will be thrown into hell or elevated to heaven. The only thing I know is that his eyes are extremely beautiful. And since I have plucked them it is impossible for me to put them back in their place. But please be sure that the man does not need them anymore. If he is thrown into hell he will surely get new eyes, infernal eyes for the crimes he committed during his life. And if he is now in heaven he will be provided with eyes more beautiful than he had in life.'"

As my mother took her last breath before me, I said, "Mama, please go and peace will be on you. I have forgiven you from the beginning. The angel you expected has arrived to take you."

I am sure, however, that my mother could not hear me.

(From Mata Yang Indah, Kompas Best Short Stories 2001)

Translated by TIS.