collected souls

i remember that day when you drove me to the airport i asked you, 'how old are you, anyway?' you laughed and said, 'still old enough to join the army?' and we laughed. mostly i actually laughed at the way you feel about being indonesian. i remember you were wearing this dark-blue t-shirt with a picture of our country's symbol, pancasila, that day. yes you do have the posture of a paskibra. you also have all those skills i never knew how on earth do you get the time to learn them. thus, you may have a shot at joining the force. so, then i asked again, 'why the army?' and you answered, 'i don't know, it's cool.' and i smiled. of course. boys and guns. boys and bullets. boys and wars. and tanks. and airplanes. i grew up with one. you should meet him. and the rest. you'll get along just fine.

 

still, being me, grown-up-like, which was probably why you cling on to me at the first place, i tend to judge those young men too caught up with their slow-mo arses and not get their act together and go to school. thus, i was utterly sober when i asked you, 'why don't you go to college?' i risked asking it, when i knew the answer would be about money and things that entailed money.

 

you never answered. you were busy with that bloody cigarette. you turned down the volume. there's nothing left here to mature, i long to find a messenger whispered to our ears. 'why don’t you become a civil servant? i think lately there had been a lot of openings. or be a teacher! yes. i know. be a teacher. here i'm sure teachers are badly needed.' you smiled and mildly punched the steer. 'that's the least thing on my mind.' i looked at you, 'why? it's like the most noble job ever. well, if you don't go around abusing your students. still, it's noble. and at your age, you could easily become a civil servant just by being a teacher in a remote area.' you looked at me and smoked the cigarette on your hand, 'teachers never outsmart their students. their students will somehow turn up into doctors, lawyers, accountants, engineers, pilots whatever. but teachers will always be teachers. never more.' okay. i guess i was shocked. i always know that. i just didn’t expect it to come out of your mouth. your mouth. you're just like what? not even born in the 80's? or never even read anything?

 

'okay, at least think about the retirement fund?' i said at last. 'in that sense, i'd rather join the army,' you responded.

 

we then both became silent. i texted a friend. about the conversation we just had. you paid attention to the road, while turning up the volume. is there a cure among us. from this processed sanity. i weaken with each voice that sings. in this world of purchase. i'm going to buy back memories. to awaken some old qualities.

 

'okay. we're here. thanks for dropping me here,' i said. 'what do you mean? did you not hear me yesterday? i'm taking you to the airport. i'm going to wait with you until the plane takes off. come on!' then you went to fetch my not so heavy black backpack.

 

have i got a long way to run? yeah, i run.