Dusk at the Beach
By Teguh Winarsho AS
My beautiful girl and I enjoyed a sunset at the beach. The sky on the horizon was tinged flame-red. Seagulls were flying about. A pair of doves were amorously flirting. The wind was lazily blowing, like a windmill slowly going round in my lungs. All these things gave me peace and helped me forget the hardship I had to bear.
I breathed in deeply and blew out the breath with all the strength in me. I felt good, as if I had just thrown a basket full of rocks from my back. I felt lighter. Fresher. But why did the beautiful girl beside me remain sorrowful? Uneasy?
"You don't like this scenery?" I asked.
"If didn't like it, I wouldn't have asked you to come here with me."
"But why do you look so sad?"
"I'm not sad. I'm happy."
"You're lying. I see sorrow in your eyes."
"Really, I'm happy."
"But why are you so silent?"
"Because I just want to be silent."
"Come on, it's very unusual for you."
"From now on, I will make it a habit."
Night fell on the coastline like a giant black robe dropping from the sky, licked by the thundering waves that broke on the sand. Cold bit into my bones. I held her fingers. They were cold, like an ice block. And I knew there was something else that froze her fingers.
***
It still rang in my ears, the news on TV that thousands of elementary school children would not be able to go back to school. Hundreds of thousands of workers would definitely lose their jobs. Bridges collapsed. Shopping malls turned to ashes. Looting and killing were everywhere. Prostitutes were on every corner of the streets.
I closed my eyes. I felt exhausted. I could hardly breath. I could hear faint voices from far across the island; people crying for independence, freedom. Is it true?
The phone rang.
"When are we going to the beach again?" asked the voice from the other end.
"It's up to you."
"Why is it up to me?"
"What about Sunday afternoon?"
"OK, OK. Take me then."
"What time?"
"Two-thirty or three, which time suits you?"
"And you may not be sad again."
"In fact I'm always happy every time I'm with you but I don't know ... sorrow often comes uninvited. I don't expect it."
Sorrow. Joy. Hmm. Is it true they always come unexpected? How would you feel if your sweetheart was suddenly sad and anxious? It's as if darkness blankets the world, don't you think? Very dark? Sometimes I wonder how my beautiful sweetheart Mita can be overcome by sorrow. But that's the way a human being is. God has given her a heart and a mind.
***
The waves jumped high and then broke up. I licked the salty water from my lips. I was patient to wait for the dusk that would come in no time. I clutched Mita's hand. We felt good.
"Are you daydreaming?" I asked.
"No. I'm imagining I can fly like those birds."
"Fly?"
"Yes. I want to fly high. Very high, leaving the world behind. Leave all the hardship here."
"Please don't talk about sorrow. I don't want to see a beautiful girl like you sad."
"Sorrow keeps coming."
"Be happy. Life is life."
"Difficult."
"You should try."
"I have often tried but to no avail."
"I feel guilty."
"Why? This has nothing to do with you."
"But I'm your lover."
"Believe me, I still love you."
"In that case, I trust you. But ...?"
"But what?"
"May I know what makes you sentimental?"
"If that's what you want, I will tell you about life." 1)
Mita, my girl, then told me the following story.
"... There was a woman of Chinese descent who lived with her two younger sisters. Suddenly, 10 men broke into their house, proceeded to the third floor and found her two sisters on the floor. They gang raped the girls. At the same time, the mob set fire to the first floor.
"After they finished with the girls, two of the 10 men came back to the poor girls and said: 'We are finished with you. You are bad and we hate you'. They pushed the girls into the flames that raged on the lower floors." 2)
"Barbaric. Who were they?"
Mita did not immediately respond. She bowed her head. I knew tears were running down her cheeks.
***
Time changes everything without exception. Without compromise. Sorrow, worry, fear -- all come one after another. On TV I saw people trying to commit suicide by hitting their head against a wall. They could not bear the hunger. Prices of basic needs are rising sky high.
There is great sorrow here. There is too much disappointment here. Ah, why am I digressing? Where is Mita, my love? It has been almost a week since I met her. Where is she? I am thinking of her.
***
When I tore open the blue-stripped envelope bearing a silhouette of flying birds, my heart pounded hard.
By the time you read this letter, I will not be here anymore. I'm sorry but I have to leave you because I don't believe you are able to share my sorrow, are you?
Let me tell you, my love: I was one of those who were raped by the bastards during the recent riots.
Yours faithfully
Always remember your love, Mita (Sing Nio)
Suddenly I felt the floor where I stood shaking. My feet were off the ground as if I were flying. It's like I was hovering. Hovering.
Dark!
1) Quoted from Toety Heraty's poem Cintakah Kau Padanya (Do You Love Her?) in her collection Mimpi dan Pretensi (Dreaming and Pretending), Balai Pustaka, 1982, p. 46) 2) They wait for the revelation of the riots mastermind in Republika, June 14, 1998, p. 4.
Yogyakarta, June, 1998.
(Born in Kulon Progo Dec. 27, 1973, Teguh Winarsho AS also writes poems and essays for various newspapers.)