Good Time

When I have my own place,

I will invite my friends. One group at a time.

(Yes, I am blessed with so many friends from many different circles)

I will serve them iced tea in a clear pitcher
Fragrant from the lemon slices

As they chat over the iced tea,
I will be busy preparing appetizer. Cutting, assembling, presenting.

As they munch on the appetizer, I move forward to start cooking main course. Stirring, checking, flipping, shaking.

And I will serve them a garden in a big wooden bowl, fresh and crunchy.
And I will fill their plate with creamyness, juicyness, and umami.

((Refilling the iced tea))

As we chat about life, love, work, career, family, philosophy,

I will be scooping and plating
Smooth, rich, decadent.

Good time with good friends. I can taste it. I can feel it. I can smell the flowers in the vase I put on top of the fridge. I can feel the heat radiate from a good friend. I can feel the tingling; I want to laugh at the yet unknown joke at the time.

Ah, life. I can't wait to embrace you.

Flower Power

I was just blogwalking on Tumblr, scrolling through my endless dashboard when I encountered this one post, containing pictures of rare flowers. Rare, exquisite, delicate flowers. These are few of my favorites :

come on. like seriously? SO DAMN PRETTY.

Then, I suddenly brought back to my Singapore trip earlier this year, when I visited Flower Dome at Gardens By The Bay. Have you been there? It's absolutely magnificent. I won't say it's the best (yes, I am still disappointed I couldn't find lilac there) but it really is a beautiful space.

I remembered how I separated ways with my three friends, mainly because they wanted to take pictures with all those flowers, and I just had no patience to move that slow just to take picture. So I went on my own, with my camera, capturing all those lovely flowers in all their own glory in frame.

in the CNY theme

So then after walking so much ( I even went to the top floor, where they have collections of South Africans plants like Baobabs) of course I got tired. So I went back to the one of the area (they separated the areas, like Australian, South American, dll.) and just sat there, alone. It was one of the quietest corner, not many people walked in, so I had my quiet moment to reminisce, to think, to wonder.

I remember how cool the air was, and the lighting was just perfect, not too bright yet not too dim either. I lightly massaged my tired feet, while still looking around, at all those pretty pretty colorful flowers.

How could something so lovely, so delicate, and so gracious, grow from the old, boring, dark soil?

How could they emerge into such a beautiful presence?

How could they stay so pure, so divine, in this messy, corrupted place we call earth?

Then it hit me.

Because the flowers are gift. From Mother Earth. From our Creator. 

Flowers are a solid proof how this world works from the very beginning. Hard work, devotion, commitment...  they never go unrewarded.

I remember as a kid, the kiddie magazine my parents bought subscription for me gave flower seed as their weekly bonus ( I think it was Zinnia Flowers, but I can't really recall, all I know is there's a Z in the name). I was so excited, I wanted flowers even though at that time, we didn't have a garden at home, just a couple potted plants in front of the house. I tried to  grow the seed, and yeah, since I was a kid, I didn't pay attention, and the Zinnia never even emerged from the soil (sorry!). 

I can only imagine the amount of time, mind, soul, and even money spent on growing all those flowers, let alone the maintenance. My visit to Flower Dome gave me newfound respect to all the gardeners, farmers, or basically, everybody who has that level of love, patience, and devotion, to grow and nurture something to life. 

How happy must they feel when the flowers finally bloom?

Ah, I can only imagine.

Oh, how I long to have the patience, the tenacity, the commitment in me, to do something like growing flowers. I'm working on it. Still and will always be working on it.

Isn't it amazing how God always manage to remind us about his Greatness? 

Did they not look at the earth - 

how much We have produced therein from every noble kind?

Indeed in that is a sign, but most of them were not to be believers.

[QS. Ash - Shu'ara, Verse 7-8]

And that there is not for man except that [good] for which he strives

And that his effort is going to be seen -

Then he will be recompensed for it with the fullest recompense

[QS. An - Najm, Verse 39 - 41]

CM

CM?

Yes, CM as in campaign manager.

Pertama kali gue denger istilah ini adalah ketika join di timses Bara - Iki #BA1K tahun lalu. Untuk pertama kalinya gue lihat kerja di balik layar orang-orang yang melakukan kampanye. Well, it was more than just a campaign. The team was prepping Bara & Iki, literally. From the inside and the outside. Taking care of them. I was lucky to witness it first hand. Masih teringat percakapan dengan Kak Hanif waktu selesai nonton pertandingan futsal di FIB, waktu gue cerita bahwa gue gabung di timses BA1K. Kak Hanif bilang, pengalaman gabung di timses itu adalah kesempatan belajar yang sangat luas. Dan gue mengangguk-angguk setuju sama perkataan beliau. Dan gue memang belajar banyak sekali dengan melihat timses BA1K. Terimakasih ya, Kak Bara dan Iki yang ngasih kesempatan untuk gue belajar di timsesnya :")

Dan tahun ini, gue berkesempatan untuk belajar lagi. Dengan gabung di timses pemenangan untuk ketua BEM FISIP UI 2015. Kali ini berbeda....karena gue CM nya.

(penting)

Kalo dari hasil pengamatan gue nonton series House of Cards, presidential campaign itu dimulai sejak jauuuh- jauh hari dengan perencanaan yang maksimal, even years before the actual election year. Sayangnya pada realita gue di level FISIP UI, cuman seminggu aja loh! Yes, seminggu. And I was asked to join the team, literally on the very last day before the campaign week started. Gila, iya gila. Gila dari team Pemilihan Raya (Pemira) nya, gila juga dari gue yang ngeiyain waktu itu. Dengan posisinya adalah, gue tau si calon ketua (sebut saja K) hanya sebagai fellow colleague dan si calon wakil ketua (sebut saja P), bener-bener enggak kenal. Familiar sama namanya aja enggak. Maklum gue cupu di pergaulan kekampusan. 

Akhirnya setelah ngobrol-ngobrol singkat, gue menanyakan motivasi and so on and so on, akhirnya gue mengiyakan. Trus ngacir pulang ngejar kereta karena harus nebeng nyokap.

Minggu depannya, dimulailah perjuangan. I worked with people I never knew before, like, literally. Tugas CM ternyata seabrek ya, walaupun ujung-ujungnya ya pasti gue delegasikan. I was a very obnoxious person during that week. Proteeees mulu sama Pemira nya, walaupun in my defense, ya memang mereka perlu diprotes. Mulai dari ngejagain bocah K dan P, prepping materials for them, dengan mempertemukan mereka sama orang-orang hebat dan sesepuh-sesepuh dunia organisasi kampus, protes-protes ke Pemira, koordinasi sama teman-teman hebat yang mau bantu dengan kampanye personal, pemetaan suara, ngawasin gerakan lawan, materi kampanye fisik seperti baliho, spanduk, dll dsb, sampe strategi kampanye di dunia maya. It was damn exciting but so. f*cking. exhausting. 

K dan P. Gue gak kenal deket sama mereka, bahkan bukan gak deket lagi, gak kenal malah. And yet, gue harus dobrak perasaan-perasaan gak enak. Sejujurnya bukan ngedobrak sih, lebih ke, I don't have time to even worry about their perceptions of me. Ya sudahlah. Walaupun pencitraan yang gue harapkan gak terlalu terpenuhi akibat mereka berdua susah bener disuruh mandi (true story), tapi pada akhinya gue sangat bangga sama progres mereka selama jangka waktu tersebut. Dengan waktu tidur mereka yang kurang, trus gue gangguin melulu suruh mandi lah, suruh belajar sama tim pemateri lah, dll, dsb. Trus, gue agak terlalu fixated sama drilling, alias mereka berhadapan sama orang-orang terpilih buat 'dicecar' . Intinya sih, untuk menggali mana yang masih kurang. Drilling sesi 1, terjawab lah. kurang banget. Baik dari segi materi maupun hal-hal trivial kayak postur tubuh, kebulatan suara, sampai cara orasi. Huhu. Waktu itu sih masih ketawa-tawa, tapi dalam hati deg-degan juga. Biar gini-gini juga gue punya idealisme dikit, gue nggak mau menangin mereka kalau mereka memang belom siap. Therefore, they had to be ready to lead. And it was part of my responsibility to prep them. 

Di minggu panjang itu, gue bergantung setengah mati sama orang yang namanya Kak Ghana. Dikit-dikit galau, dikit-dikit curhat minta masukan. Soalnya beliau sabar bener nanggepin gue huahaha dan semua kegalauan yang seharusnya CM gak boleh miliki. Di salah satu chat, gue ngomong

Lagian aku gak mikirin menang. Aku mikirin maksimalin semua potensi K dan P aja.

Dan Kak Ghana respon, Yah jadi gak nyari menang? Conversation end.

Lah?

Dia nanya, yakin gak sama mereka? Yakin.

Yakin gak? Yakin.

Kalo apa yang mereka bawa gak kejadian kesel gak? Kesel.

Ya udah. Cuma menang yang bisa bikin semua itu kejadian.

Darn. Agak tertabok dikit. Iya. naif banget ya gue kalo jadi CM tapi gak ngincer menang. Sejak saat itu gue jadi ambi kemenangan. WK.

Kemudian, datanglah drilling sesi 2. Kali ini gue cukup jahat, ngegabungin 5 sesepuh sekaligus untuk drilling K & P. Alhasil habislah mereka malam itu. Akhirnya karena mereka kelelahan fisik dan mental, akhirnya disudahi sesi drilling nya. Barulah abis itu gue ngobrol sama 5 panelis drilling malam itu, dan sukses jadi galau. Karena sesi drilling yang gue harapkan bisa membangun mereka, malah ada potensi bikin mereka makin down. Seharian kepikiran, sampe akhirnya meledak di siang hari di salah satu pojok Takor. Nangis mewek gak abis-abis. Cengeng ya gue.

Gue bisa bilang minggu kampanye itu salah satu minggu tergila dalam hidup gue. Minggu dimana gue kayak zombie. Trus bolot banget pula. Pernah, gue saking masih capeknya itu badan, mau naik kereta ke kampus pagi-pagi dari Duren Kalibata. Mesen tiket harian kan. Pas di kereta mikir, kenapa hari ini rasanya kata-kata 'Universitas Indonesia' belom gue sebut ya? Setelah gue inget-inget, gue mesen tiketnya ke Tebet rupanya. Dodol berat. Pantesan tiketnya cuma 2000. Setelah panik-panik lucu akhirnya cuma angus aja tiket jaminannya. Trus penampilan gue ga ada keurusnya sama sekali. Nyisir ngaca secukupnya aja. Kebanting banget sama CM tim sebelah yang cantik dan segar hahaha. Mana ngampus sering pake sendal jepit aja. Tidur di kampus melulu sampe salah nyebut ruang BPM jadi "kamar". Materi kuliah masuk kuping kiri keluar kuping kanan. Makan seingetnya aja, terharu hampir mau nangis waktu dibeliin tahu jeletot sama Chika dan Icha pas debat kandidat. Kepikiran mulu bakal menang apa enggak. Ah.

Tapi semua kelelahan itu terbayar dan gak sia-sia. Gue bener-bener belajar banyak dan dapet pengalaman yang gak mungkin tergantikan. Pelajaran berharga banget. Sekaligus bikin takut sama dunia perpolitikan. 

Sebenernya banyak yang mau diceritain, tapi karena udah lama jadi lupa huft.

Buat K&P, semangat menjalani masa satu tahun kepengurusannya yaa! 

Dear Lecturer

I've been thinking about writing this post for quite some time, so here it comes.

Dear lecturer,
First of all, I want you to know that you are awesome. No, seriously. This is not me trying to kiss your butt up. I do find you awesome (and I know almost everyone in our class thought the same). I think you're aware that you're awesome, but I just need to let you know what I (we) think about you.

I'm always fascinated by smart people. Not just academic smart nor street smart; just smart in general. Like, people who actually think and utilize their brain. I aspire to be one someday. I kinda aspire to be like you, someday. You are that awesome.

I'm kind of confused though. Why do I get the sense that you think we hate you? I hate to think that I know what other people think, but here it comes. Every time you talk to us, both during good and bad times, I feel like you're kind of cornering us to say that yes, you are an awful lecturer. You declare yourself as the bitchy lecturer who force us to read the materials. Truth is, YOU ARE FREAKING NOT. Yes, at times your words can be harsh, but we can bear with it. We may not cry in joy when you point out that we have to read this and do that, but that doesn't mean we hate it. Do you know how much we (I) love getting new knowledge from you? Do you know how enlightened we(I) feel after leaving your class? Do you know how much we(I) like to refer to what you taught us in class? (Though this is against your standpoint, we should refer to the reading materials. But oh well...we're still learning, after all, so pardon us please? :P But I assure you, we're trying here.) We see your point and your good intentions and we're grateful for it. We don't hate you. We like you, we like the way you teach, we like the subject you teach, we're grateful for the knowledge you share. We may not show it, we're not perfect students, but yes, we, in general, we like you (cos love is such a heavy word). So please, don't ever think that we hate you when in fact, we like you so very much. 

(anyway, I said earlier how I hate to think that I know what other people think then I accused you right after. I totally see the irony. Duh me.)

Moving on.

I owe you an apology. Sometimes I forget that despite all your awesomeness, you're just a human being like us. Sometimes I forget that you're not a robot; you also have feelings. Sometimes I let my admiration to you cloud my judgement of you. I did, more than once, thought that such an awesome, open minded person like you should never, ever, act or talk in the way that you did. I forgot that you are human. You, I, us, we all are fluid. We feel what we feel.

I hope you don't find my (our) admiration to you as a burden. 

It broke my heart when you offered us to switch lecturer. I immediately asked myself; am I really that bad of a student? Then I thought, no. I'm not a bad student. I'm not a perfect student either, but definitely not a bad student. I prepare for your class (though I don't always get it), I never came late, I don't play with my gadgets (well, sometimes I swipe over the screen for a quick look but that's it I can't help), I speak my thoughts in class, I ask question though not always (and not a very good question, too). I'm definitely not a good student, but I am, not in any way, a bad student.

You once said that you accept us for the way we are, and in return, we have to accept you for who you are. Couldn't agree more. 

I think what we need is just...a thorough, meaningful, conversation. Communicate our feelings. I think. I think. I think once we get to see where each other stand...I think, I think. I think we'll do just fine. I think we'll get along. I think.

I know what happened last week was bad. I know what he did (I refuse to address it as a group's action) totally upset you. I understand. But I would like, very much, for you to not put aside the other 29 kids in the class who already prepared to come to your class. I understand you don't want to treat us differently. I understand your good intention, I really do. I just would like very much for you to not overlook us who really want to learn from you.

I am such a demanding student, I know. 

Pink

Pink is my identity.
My philosophy of pink: it is soft, sweet, bubbly, yet strong and present. A mix of boldness and purity. Eye-candy but has a firm presence.

Exactly what I want to be.

Eulogy

For she who left her imprints on the wind,
And he whose heart is taken away
As she never thought that this is the way
Their bond must come to mind;
As it is ending.
As the last air fade away
As the bond made by the ring;
Loses its glow and decay.

And he never thought
That love could be so cold
When she does not exist in the world
Anymore

Hypocrisy much?

Preacher.

I have learned the hard way that it is best not to argue with them about anything, let alone religion matters. They are preachers; they're shaped that way. Arguing with them won't give me any good anyway, so I learned to just bear with it. But this one thing really bothers me.

As I grew older, I realize that more and more people around me have come closer to their God; they become more and more religious as the day goes by. I don't really know what caused that; we're all in our 20s. Americans, in this case my American friends, do not get into that phase though. Well, maybe they weren't all that religious before, but so did many of my friends. Maybe it's the culture. I don't know, maybe.

As for me, I have my own relationship with my Creator, which I will not reveal in this post. It is extremely personal for me and I intend to keep it that way. But in general, I have never been a strong follower in practicing the rituals in my religion. Though, I believe it does not correlate with my beliefs; what I fundamentally believe in. I just don't practice the practical, that is all. One might think that it is impossible to truly devoted to the religion if one leave out the practical, but for me the level of relationship between God and His creation can not be defined in such a narrow view. It is extremely personal and intimate area in a human's life that can never really be measured.

In my 20s, of course, the topic of marriage and wedding has come around to the table. Quite often, actually. My girl friends and I often wander off to those topics; from our dream husband until motherhood; from dating place to (our) future kids education. Such topics never really exist when we were back in High school and for me it's almost like a wake up call. You're a grown up now. Time to really, really think about getting your life together.

Anyway, back to religion. As most of my friends are quite religious now, I realized that it is also affecting their view on marriage and finding a life partner. Girls want guys who would be their Imam, leading the prayers before them. Guys want a shalehah girls, who would be devoted to their husband and their family. In this writing I want to point out the second, how guys are now craving for shalehah bride.

There is nothing wrong with it, of course. Totally understandable, after all who wouldnt want a devoted wife? One that is devoted to God, to her husband, and to her future children. One that knows how to carry a graceful manner, speaks softly, glowing face and smile, a feminine, delicate flower. Wearing hijabs and covering her body curves. A pure flower that is reserved to just one man. Oh yes, we can see why the idea is so tempting for men. Especially those who know how a devoted wife could be a way to get closer to their God, as a good man who can lead his family to the goodness in life is truly blessed and relatively has a good chance to go into Jannah. I don't know what the verses from the Qur'an are, but that is generally the idea.

I am so angry at this concept of perfect wife.

Oh please. Spare me the hypocrisy. Do not tell me that you guys all want a shalehah woman. What you guys want are beautiful woman that happens to be shalehah or the other way around. The point is, physical beauty still plays a huge part for men in making decision which one of the women they're about to get married to. And I find that such a hypocrisy. How dare you wish for a shalehah woman with a beautiful features. A really beautiful concept of shalehah is being collaborated with the shallow, artifical perception of beauty.

When there are two shalehah women being compared. With the same level of devotion to God, the same gracious manner, the same kind heart, over all have a similar quality. The one thing that is going to separate them from being some man's wife is now who is the better looking between them.

It is understandable. I want to say it is natural, but the fact is I don't know. But I can understand if a man chooses the more attractive one to be his bride. It leaves me feeling devastated, though.

If in the end, if your physical look is what matters...then why even bother? Why pretend like beautiful is not a major factor for a man? Why the hypocrisy? Why are you putting up shalehah as one of the traits, yet acting like putting up physical beauty would make you shallow when in fact yes it matters to you!

Beauty is relative, they say. Maybe not so much. There are standard of beauty. I am talking physical here, because I think inner beauty is a complete bullsh*t. It's an excuse, a treat to help one feel better about themselves.

In the end, what's going to happen then for the inattractive shalehah women?

This writing may seem...jumpy? I wrote it in my phone and it's annoying so I can't really explore my thoughts. Overall this is kind of a rant I'm having after seeing someone's post.

And men, please grow up.