Kamu Kira Saya Tidak Tergoda?

Kamu kira saya tidak tergoda? Pada tahta dan kuasa. Saya juga manusia biasa. Yang seringkali lapar akan puja-puja. Kamu pikir saya tidak teringin? Pada rantaian hak istimewa. Saya pun masih seorang emosional hormonal yang menikmati euforia. Yang seratus persen sadar bahwa hal semacam ini hanya terjadi satu kali. Sekali lewat lepas, dia tidak datang untuk kembali.

Lampu sorot itu megah. Hangatnya memacu adrenalinmu. Membuncah. Mendengarkan tepuk dan siulan. Menghitung decak kekaguman. Kemana pun kamu berjalan. Lampu sorot itu setia. Memastikan bayanganmu masih berdiri di sana. Memastikan kamu menghasilkan bayangan. Sedangkan yang menontonmu itu. Saya merasa ada terselip satu dua di sana. Atau mungkin tiga bahkan lima. Yang juga sama denganmu. Menghitung detik demi detik waktu ke waktu. Menunggumu lupa lirik atau salah lagu. Menantimu terseliuh dari sepatu tinggimu. Mengubah tepuk siul decak kagum menjadi lautan hu. Lampu sorot itu begitu megah. Saya juga manusia biasa yang menginginkannya. Tapi satu lampu sorot lagi di depan muka. Rasanya sudah melampaui kapasitas saya. Satu dua dari sejumlah bayangan itu seperti bersabar. Menunggu saya merusak semuanya.

Sesederhana ini. Saya tidak pernah berbakat menjadi politisi. Yang menaruh satu kaki di kanan satu lagi di kiri. Fleksibel. Bukan fokus pada strategi. Tapi hasil jangka panjang yang berisi. Saya masih terlalu emosional hormonal. Yang terobsesi pada idealisasi. Yang tanpa sadar menghabiskan waktu berusaha memuaskan semua hati. Takut dicela alergi dicaci. Saya, dalam hal ini, serapuh sarang laba-laba. Yang teratur terstruktur. Tapi hancur berantakan dengan satu sentuhan. Lalu saya akan menyalahkan diri sendiri. Kenapa jaringnya saya lingkarkan dari kiri ke kanan. Bukan dari kanan ke kiri seperti yang mereka sukai. Hal yang paling tidak esensial. Yang bahkan bukan alasan kenapa si manusia mendaratkan tangannya di sarang saya. Bukan. Bukan berarti saya tidak mampu tidak bisa atau tidak ingin membuat sarang yang baru. Tapi yang baru itu tidak akan pernah sama. Karena saya terlalu menghargai yang pertama. Yang orisinil saya bangun dengan hati. Tanpa tendensi untuk memperbaiki atau mengganti. Melahirkan perbandingan. Dan semua orang benci kalau dibandingkan. Dan saya masih berkutat pada ketakutan untuk dibenci.

Selalu ada pilihan dalam kehidupan. Dua di antaranya adalah menjadi egois atau mulia. Saya, seperti semua manusia rasional lainnya, pasti ingin menjadi yang kedua. Bukan sepenuhnya untuk dikenang. Bukan pula mau menjadi sok pahlawan. Tapi sesederhana sebuah kenyataan. Bahwa kita dibutuhkan. Bahwa dunia merasa kamu tidak punya alasan untuk tidak ambil bagian. Seperti para pendahulu yang dengan rela meninggalkan segala kenyamanan. Turun ke jalan. Sepenuh jiwa raga menata bata perjuangan. Dan pada akhirnya, secara suka cita dunia mengenang mereka sebagai pahlawan. Namun saya secara pahit menyadari satu fakta di sini. Yang secara sakit menyatakan bahwa saya dan mereka di lain kondisi. Mereka ada di posisi yang selalu menyambut untuk kembali. Kalah dan gagal itu bukan pilihan. Bukan pula menjadi hal yang terlintas dalam angan. Tapi setidaknya, kalau itu betul betul terjadi, satu hari di satu masa masih ada satu jaminan meyakinkan. Kenyamanan yang dulu mereka tinggalkan. Itu. Menjadikan mulia itu pilihan. Sedangkan saya masih buta akan masa depan. Tidak berhak menuntut dunia bertoleransi. Mencari satu saja jarum aman di antara setumpuk jerami. Membuat egois dan mulia bukan lagi pilihan. Tapi ironi yang sayangnya adalah realita. Tidak ada jaminan tidak pula kepastian. Tidak memberi kesempatan pada kegagalan dan kekalahan. Karena momen inilah yang dinanti-nanti. Oleh bayangan-bayangan dari lampu sorot tadi. Oleh manusia yang mulai terusik pada si sarang laba-laba tadi. Dan kesempatan. Sekali lewat lepas, tidak datang untuk kembali.

Saya sampai pada kesimpulan. Saya lebih suka mendampingi. Menjadi seorang yang memastikan kamu tidak lupa lirik atau salah lagu. Memilihkan sepatu terbaik yang tidak membuatmu terseliuh. Saya lebih tersanjung pada kepercayaan. Yang kamu berikan sepanjang jalan. Daripada tepuk siulan manusia lain yang bahkan dengan mereka saya tidak pernah berkenalan. Saya lebih menghargai ketika kamu mendengarkan. Mempertimbangkan ide-ide yang saya lontarkan. Memasukkannya sebagai bagian dari strategi brilian yang sedang kamu canangkan. Saya punya cara aneh tersendiri untuk menikmati perhatian. Bukan dari puja puji di sana-sini. Tapi dari cerita-cerita pribadi yang secara suka rela kamu bagi. Saya, di sini, akan menjadi yang pertama bersiul dan tepuk tangan. Ketika sederet lagu dan tarian berhasil kamu tampilkan. Dan saya, di sini, akan menjadi yang pertama. Duduk denganmu yang berhadapan pada kegagalan dan kekecewaan. Lalu dengan fakta dan argumen meyakinkan berkata, semua akan baik-baik saja. Saya, sampai detik ini, lebih suka mendampingi.

Human Seeks Attention

A little big thing.

This thought came across my mind a while ago when I was alone; doing nothing in my room on the day of Idul Adha. I was just thinking that, essentially, people is doing anything to seek attention in their whole lives. We want someone values our existence in any ways. That sounds agreeable. Some perhaps crave to be valued by money, some want compliments, care, or even winks(?). Funny things we do to make people see us, as much as stupid stuff we make. As stupid as walking out from the show we have been half-deathly working on, probably. But, I think, that's just human nature.

Well, then I start questioning about those complete and whole people whom all attention is directed to. How about independent young girls who seem to be too strong to break down? Do these people still seek attention?

You know, for split seconds I thought it is so unfair if these lot wanted more than what they have got. I am referring to the fact that it is them creating the existence of "The Overshadowed". Well, shouldn't they be grateful for everything that they have taken from others around? Or, to be rightly phrased, shouldn't I be thankful for every single blessings and compliments that I have been receiving all this while?

But, no. Like I have said, it's a matter of human nature. Human seeks attention. It doesn't mean a person who seems very complete and whole isn't craving for attention inside. They are. Perhaps others only value her success, not the story behind it which she really wants people to know. Perhaps others pay high for her professionalism, but doesn't even care about personal life she has given in. Or, probably others respect her independence, even too much to allow themselves giving more affection (which sounds nonsense).

All human beings seek attention, yet we, common people, love to stare only at something interesting. To see a color, instead of color all the whites. Overlook small things big people value, yet forget to thank shadows for their patient company. That's my conclusion.

Pain Gave Them Success

A little big thing.

All this while, I have been listening to many painful stories. Some of them are stories of famous people that everybody knows. Let me just mention Einstein, the genius. Probably most people know his childhood. He was slow in learning how to speak until his headmaster expelled and, on top of that, cursed he never amount to much. Or I can also mention the smart Oprah Winfrey. That strong and beautiful lady had a tough childhood that we probably would never imagine before when we see her today on TV. Even more, I would love to list down those famous influencing people like Barack Obama, Bill Gates, Nelson Mandela, Walt Disney, Mahatma Gandhi and so on.

Dahlan Iskan will always be there to describe the miserable days of lever transplantation, on the edge of life. Moreover, as not many people know, he started the career as on office boy of newspaper agency, later on became the chairman, and now is the famous BUMN (State-owned Enterprises) Minister of Indonesia. Bob Sadino, that short-pants business man, who expect him as a taxi driver and construction labor years back? We, now, only see him as billionaire who doesn't even bother to count his money. On top of them, there was the Prophet, Muhammad SAW, who we know most of his story. His life was never easy, even though Allah put him on His highest mercy. His life was never easy for us to live with, Man.

Yeah, that is what I have been talking about. The rich, famous, popular, influencing, and successful people who have been through pain in most of their lives. It is just we don't know, or we don't care about. It is just because we see them today, in frame, with all their glories. I see, their stories might seem so cliché for you, but it was never for me. Never from the very beginning. Because I have heard more than those, even probably you too.

She is my proud Grandmother, who lived in the pain of poverty alone without any companion. She was judged as a miserable widow with two poor daughters. Her story first teach me about living up tough life. How did she sleep for only two-three hours every night, walk miles away every dawn, never complain every moments, and on top of that, teach her daughters courage to success. Then here she is now, still living in the same old house, but with peaceful face every single day. Sometimes she will tell me how relief she is when seeing her children live way better than her back then. I smile and say, you have succeed.

She is my the one and only Mother, who I always proud to be the daughter of. She was living with underestimate as a daughter of poor widow. Her teachers would always put her as substitute although she was the smartest. She was not accepted from a top high school, not because she wasn't capable enough yet she had to compete with the riches. I always remember her stories and big dreams to leave the village and start up everything by her own, without people considering her background and family. And in my vision, she have made it. She is always a successful mother with two children in my eyes.

She is one of the top managers of a huge company. I firstly admire her because of the beauty, position, and wisdom she has. Until she told us her childhood memories, a story that people would never expect to be happened to her. Series of tough-works that I firstly could not imagine are done by those soft and pretty hands. I was almost cry that day, also wondering the same story happened to my Grand and Mom.

The other ones are stories from my good friends. I always feel glad and honored to be trusted to listen to their untold experiences. They all have their own pains. Some still go through, some have already escaped from it. But most amazingly is when I saw them successfully achieve pieces of their dreams. Little by little, slow but sure. I am always touched when they said, "I'm going to be that way and stop living like this." And some of them, one by one, really do make it just as I was always sure they will.

When I'm writing this post, it is not that I have no pain in life. I had and do still have, but it is too small compared to them. It will only be a shame for me to nag about such problems. It will only be so childish for me to curse Allah about what happen in my life. It will only give more pain rather than success. And you know, the best thing is that, their existences are my remembrance: to live up my life as a winner, to not quit but finish everything up to the top. And I hope it won't be only for me, but all of us. Remembrance that pain gave them us success.