V

"Tolong buka celananya," kata si mbak suster untuk ke dua kalinya. Gue pura-pura gak denger.

"Tolong buka celananya," kata si dokter dengan penuh otoritas. Gue gak bisa lagi pura-pura gak denger.

Gue tersudut, gak bisa mikir alasan lain. Terpaksa gue buka celana dan ngangkang sesuai perintah dokter.

Si dokter dan 2 susternya menjadi 3 orang pertama yang melihat vagina gue. Gue jadi yang ke 4, setelah si dokter menaruh cermin di bawah sana.

For the first time in life, I see my own vagina.

And my first thought was, " I don't wanna be a lesbian!!! "

2 Bulan

Matahari terlalu bersinar di Sunda Kelapa.

Depak dang dan dut tak mampu merayu ibu-ibu yang pura-pura sibuk memotong kue bolu. Puluhan lalat berusaha mengerubungi bolu, tapi keburu meninggal karena tak tahan dengan bau Sunda Kelapa. Bau mayat ikan asin bercampur keringat kuli bercampur matahari. Bahkan lalat pun hilang selera makan.

Sammaria nongkrong di sana bersama si nenek menanti cucunya yang sedang berhias di salon. Hari ini cucunya yang bernama seperti salah satu dewi kahyangan akan menikah. Si nenek bercerita betapa cantik paras cucunya. Betapa aduhai goyangannya dulu di salah satu kontes instan dangdut di TV nasional dua tahun lalu. Betapa merdunya suaranya.

Walau cuma juara lima, si dewi sukses menjaring seorang toke ikan. Tak apalah umurnya baru 18 tahun. Kawinkan saja mumpung ada toke yang mau.

Sebuah beca mendekat. Dikayuh seorang kakek hitam dengan keringat mengucur dari dadanya ke perut six pack tanpa gym.

Dari beca buduk tak berbunga itu, turunlah si cucu berkebaya dan ber-make up campur peluh. Cantik, hanya perutnya terlalu buncit.

Perutnya buncit bukan karena gagal diet pengantin. Bukan juga karena ke binaria. Tau-tau berbadan dua. Tak perlu diceritakan kenapa. Semua orang sudah menduga, walau tak ada yang bicara.

Hamil sebelum nikah masih memalukan di negara ini, tapi tidak di Sunda Kelapa. MC mendoakan kandungan si bayi di corong mic yang menyiarkan kehamilannya ke seluruh pelosok kampung.

Si toke tak kunjung datang. Sang dewi duduk sendiri, di kursi tamu di pernikahannya sendiri. Pelaminan diisi tamu-tamu kecil yang berlarian sana-sini.

Katanya si abang keciduk narkoba. Tapi si nenek berkata beda. Katanya si istri tua tak rela didua.

MC kembali mendoakan agar si dewi menjadi keluarga mawadah sakinah bla bla bla. Air mata membanjiri semua wanita.

Mereka tahu. Bahkan sebelum menikah pun, si dewi sudah menjanda.

Cerita di atas sebenarnya tak perlu ditulis karena ternyata cuma cerita biasa di sana.

WARNING

Stay away from me. Your fear might end up in a movie.

Stay away from me. Your pain might end up in a book.

Stay away from me. Your line might end up in my facebook profile.

But too late. I know you already. So no use of staying away. Your story is already here. In this lump of meat they called heart.

And I'll try my best to keep you here.

You and I Both

" Until the dawn it brings another day to sing about the magic that was you and me..."

Jason Mraz took me back to the magic in a coffee shop in Changi Airport. It was early in the morning when everyone else was rushing to work. You and I, counting last words.

U might forget, but I remember everything you sang.

The cards were laid open on the table. They were decorated with some of my best works, my portfolio. They were intended to impress the creative director in a production house where I was going to have an interview in less than two hours. My portfolio became our tarot for the moment.

"Will you be a director?" You asked me, the tarot reader.

And the cards said no. I suddenly felt a deep jab in my heart.

"Will I ever see you again?" You asked.

I didn't want to open the card, afraid to face my verdict.

And the cards said no. Another jab. Ouch! This even hurt more.

But I didn't see any pain in your face. It hurt me even more at first.

With total confidence, you said " We will meet again, when you are a director."

Then you told me to go. Otherwise I might be late for the interview. I might lose my chance to be the director. Lose the chance to feel the magic of more you and me.

You took your flight to your dream land.

"See I'm all about them words Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive You and I"

Two years passed without you. Two years full of tears and laughs. I didn't get the interview. But I tried my best and made myself something I could call a director. I guessed if I became a director , I would get to taste more of the magic.

The magic returned. Twice. Nice!

"Not so little you and I anymore And with this silence brings a moral story More importantly evolving is the glory of a boy ." (or in my case, a girl. But this little boy inside me also evelved , i guess)

Years passed. Jason Mraz's beautiful words still ring the bell in me, remind me how You and I are not You and I anymore.

And it's okay if you have go away Oh just remember the telephone works both ways And if I never ever hear them ring ... If nothing else I'll think the bells inside Have finally found you someone else

and that's okay Cause I'll remember everything you sang

You might forget, But I remember everything you sang.

Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of ....
and others just read of ....
and if you could see now well I'm finally free.

I am free. Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of.
I guess we do not need more i love you' s and thank you's

"I'm finally out of, finally, deedeeededede well I'm almost finally, finally, finally out of words."

Reality Bawang Seksi

Berita jadi reality show. Reality show jadi fiksi. Fiksi jadi reality. Reality gue jadi ompong, bahkan untuk dituliskan menjadi fiksi. Tidak lagi menggigit.

Kemaren tiga wanita muda duduk di Midori, mencincang sebuah tulisan 8 babak yang seharusnya berisi hidup mereka. Tentunya sudah dibumbui dan dimasak sana sini yang menurut buku dewa koki How To Cook A Damn Good Script seharusnya menjadi lebih gurih.

Tapi hasilnya basi, sama sekali tidak menggelitik hidung untuk menyuruh tangan mengambil dan mulut mengunyah.

Kenapa menulis tentang diri sendiri menjadi begitu memuakkan? Membasikan? Mematikan? Memalukan?

Mungkin karena terlalu banyak kesan yang ingin gue paksakan. Ternyata tampilan masih lebih penting daripada rasa. Koki lebih sibuk mengukir bawang untuk hiasan, padahal harusnya tuh bawang gue celup biar melebur, nambah rasa tulisan gue.

I don't want anyone to see my layers, mungkinkah aku hanya sebongkah bawang gendut?

Dangdut tali kecapi, biar gendut yang penting seksi.

Tiba-tiba semilir angin berbisik "Ayo bawang seksi, terus menulis."

Dan si bawang kembali menulis.

5 minutes of fame

Andy Warhol said "In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes."

But Warhol's future is a past now. Now, everyone is famous only for five minutes. And those who have tasted the sweet temptation of fame will be craving for more...

5 minutes of fame.

This became our working title for my first documentary... about dangdut, women, and poverty.

I am diving into the world of a 14 years old dangdut singer who was a winner of an American Idol wannabe show on TV. I was imagining a world full of beats and goyang and a happy musical documentary full of off style characters. That was what I had first in mind when I started this documentary, together with Sally Anomsari.

I was naive.

What do you do after all the fame has gone and you have to keep the lifestyle you have been addicted to? The "5 minutes of fame" lifestyle.

Maybe you will get yourself into a world of Dayeuh Kolot Lolita.

A Purpose Driven Life

Dear God,

Once upon a time, I read this book. It started with :

"Your life is not about you!"

It shocked me deeply. How come my life is not about me? I even made that stupid song " My life is not about me" and sang it in a church and embarrassed myself because the mic was broken. Still, I sang with all my heart.

And now, 3 years later... after all the grace You showed me, all the miracle and "goyang dulu" moments, I get to know You more and I get to like You even more. You really are a cool God, not cranky and moody and easy to put fire on me like some people said before.

But now I am back here again to a place where "my life is all about me".... damn. This world You created is really awesome, God. With all the sweet talkings and praise and all the pretty faces.... bla bla bla... And I thought I was everything, and I could do anything, and You will always be there to support me, and I will be everything I wanted to be, and suddenly... I write boring scripts.

So is there anyway that I can get back to you?

dream/dreamed/dreamt

I dreamt about you last night. You look really good naked, babe.

And when I told my friends about my obsession, they corrected my spelling instead.

Is it dreamed or dreamt?

Are you British or American?

I am neither of them. So what am I doing writing in English?

Tonight I wanna dream of a world where I can speak or write or sing any language I want, without anyone telling me I am British, American, or from some third world country who have to speak English to be understood.

And I'll make sure there is a naked 'you' in it, Babe.