and this is a true story. it was indeed an unbelievable experience. read it slowly and take your time.
In order to let some steam off due to last nights unplanned things and this morning oh-you-don’t-need-to-know-whom-i’m-going-out-with situation, which actually i’m still rather confused why i am upset about this because it’s actually none of my business, I as a avid photographer grabbed my camera(again) to do some photo hunting around this fascinating city of mine. I walked, I talked(to myself), I listened, I saw, I captured. It was the usual i’m pissed of at everything around me routine. But today, was a bit different. Today was actually rather inspiring.
The sun was noon and my intestines were grinding against each other due to the lack of food i have given them. But since i was near one of my favorite restaurants(called Warung Laos, known for its Godlike pizza) I decided to go their to grab a bite to eat. As I was walking near that favorite restaurant of mine. I accidentally dropped a roll of film and due to its circular shape it glided easily down the road which then stopped near a foot of a man(i used foot not feet because this gentleman had only one workable leg, what happened to his other leg, if you may ask? explain it later on i will).
From the looks(and smell) of it, this man was old, poor, and homeless. With tattered clothes, blackened skin and a shoe that looked more like a sandal. I could not help myself to distance myself from this person. But, since experience, and believe me experience is one the best teachers out there, has taught me not to judge a human being by how they look. I played nice and smiled and because of this, the man spoke.
the following conversations are translated directly from Indonesian.
“Young man, it seems you have dropped your roll of film, i wish to crouch down and get it for you but from what you may have noticed I am unable to do so.” said the man in a old and tired voice. Ah..a comedian, i said to myself. Just what i needed! “(chuckles), it’s ok sir.” I said to him in a shaky yet gentle way. I crouched down near his leg grabbed the film and stood up. Instant direct eye to eye contact. Awkward. It was like in those romantic movies where a man and a woman falls in love at first sight. But in my case, it obviously turned out very,very awkward.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four seconds. (yes, i really did count) Four seconds of pure uneasy silence. “Talk Ben!” I screamed in my heart. Then when i was about to chatter myself through this awkwardness, a growling ended this moment of silence. The growl of hunger. But it was not mine, it was his. Seeing that this growl was a cue for me to initiate some sort of conversation I decided to invite him to have lunch with me. “Sir, have you had lunch already? let me buy you lunch at Laos if you haven’t.” (which after i thought about what i said and how i said it, it was actually rather rude) “Why thank you young man for your generosity. But if I may ask may we eat something simpler, something like the food in the food stall(warteg) near the restaurant?” “WTF!!” I shouted in my shallow brain of mine. I was about to buy this old man good, quite expensive food but he prefers those crappy, unhygienic, eat and you will die kinda food?(which in fact i eat on a daily basis). What the hell is wrong with this guy?
But in my effort not to upset him, I suppressed my cravings for a delicious wood burned oven baked pizza.(which turned out that it was impossible to suppress such a thing because i’m still craving for it until now!!). We then walked into the “warung”, i ordered clear spinach soup and something that looked like corned beef, but tasted neither like beef or chicken or fish or even any other living thing i have eaten and believe me i have eaten a wide variety of living objects, that even I sometimes have a hard time believing that i have eaten such a thing (goat balls anyone?). He on the other hand ordered mainly vegetables, clear spinach soup, kangkung(don’t know the english word yet) and something that looks like a scrambled egg. We sat, we ate, we talked, we laughed.
From the conversation i had with him. I found out a few crucial things about him. His name is Hamid. He is 56 years old. He had a wife but died young. He also had a son but left him. He was lonely and to my surprise, he has a bachelor degree in sociology. YES, let me repeat this for you, HE-HAS-A-BACHE-LOR-DE-GREE -IN-SO-CI-O-LO-GY, which he received from the University of Indonesia. My oh my. He was smart, he was witty, he was talkative, he was friendly and he was very much indeed open. I liked him. We talked about politics, culture, environment(hooray another tree hugger!!), religion and last talked about love. I know, I know it seems rather corny, gay and unmanly for a man to talk about love and women without mentioning sex in it. But rest assure our talk about love was not only a love of a man towards a woman (and vice versa) but love also in general (which seems to be more gay to talk about).
Nonsense you say? why the need to talk about love? So unmanly, so unnecessary, oh so bullshit!
Ah..yes, it may sound ticklish at first to talk about this matter. But love, as i have said many times to my friends, is a sensation many of us hunger, many of us desire but yet we do not wish to understand or even merely talk about it! We are ashamed to speak of this feeling of happiness and joy but we talk bluntly of sex and lust! Such irony. Such hypocrites i say! I wish not to generalize but what have we become? What then differentiates us from animals if it is only lust we are after? Have we indeed forgotten our hearts? Then it is our soul that we have forgotten if that is indeed true!
He talked passionately of this, where the likes i have only read in books. To meet a man, that talks of love with such passion and desire and without shame was definitely a first time for me.
He then asked, “do you say the words ‘i love you’ often?” “yes, i do.” i said softly. He then explained, the word love is like any other word, say it many times, over and over again and it will, at one point loose its meaning. Has the words ‘I love you’ become mere words and letters that our lips must recede in order to satisfy another but not ourselves? or is this because he himself has become pessimistic of love due to past memories? many questions, i have for this man.
but i have a question for myself,
have i felt love?
Define love! Is it a feeling of longing and wanting? But so is lust!
How can I know that i have felt such a thing if I cannot even define it?
Much, must be thought over this concept of love. But yes indeed, i agree that love must not be thought over thoroughly. Love must be felt. It must be felt on the tips of your fingers when you touch her cheeks, it must be felt when on the palm your hand when you touch her gentle, soft hands, it must be felt when we see those striking eyes and that forbidden smile of hers. Love must be felt when the heart has been broken.
But I cannot help myself. I cannot help this urge to understand more about this feeling. I question this feeling, is this love? And i as logical, reasonable man tries to understand this pleasant feeling by contemplating on it on which i have yet to see the result.
such complexity.
enough then. this hindrance will be my problem to solve. let us move on.
Hamid, 56 years old, a lonely, poor, old man. As he passionately babbled of love I cannot help to think. Although he talks of his unpleasant memories and sometimes of his rather pessimistic views of love. He seemed rather content, as a matter of fact he seemed blissful. With a smile of joy on his face and eyes that gave the impression that he was in love. How can this be? A man that has been hurt by giving love is seem to be full of love? As this has raised my curiosity. I forced myself to ask him.
“Love, how am i able to see love in you, when you have only told me stories of the unpleasant? How can a man such as you, no offense, that seems to have been tired and withered by love. Still have the spirit, the eyes, the smile, of a man that dwells in love, that embraces love, that sees love as a part of oneself?”
He smiled and he spoke. “I am but a soul. This body of mine has taken enough burden. I am aware it will not last. I am aware that i will leave it soon. Therefore i see love as a place of denial. I am like you and the general people out there, i am scared of death for now. I know that i have spoken cynic of love but what does this mean? It means that i have been hurt by love. It means that i have, felt love. Love dwells in us all. Love is not to be found in someone else but ourselves. But the presence of a another, the presence of another soul, another mate opens the way for us to feel love in ourselves. Without that, love cannot grow, love cannot be felt. People talk of boundaries. People talk of limits. They see love to have prerequisites. Such a horrible thing to say. Love does not see all this, love does not see boundaries nor limits. We as humans are the ones who makes such boundaries, such limits, such walls. But for what? Only to deny this feeling that cannot be denied nor withered away. Oh he/she is from another social class, oh he/she is different in beliefs, oh he/she is just different. Love erases all these. I say to you if God created such a powerful feeling such as love, why the need for boundaries, why deny this most beautiful creation of God? Remember this young man, to deny love is to die. Yes, you maybe able to find another love when you deny the first love, but that first love of yours that you denied will never wither away and in that denial, a part of you, although it maybe small, has died. Yes it maybe small, but it is the quality of that love itself not the quantity.”
so is to deny love to die?
(and will be continued later on)
