A Dimas' Rush

It was my lazy body I found on five o’clock fighting for its first wake on the breaking Monday of the week. The alarm might be losing its patience shouting ‘the monotone’ when I had yawned for times. I think waking up on time is a big breaking free against anything that keeps me in such a wrong comfort. Really, to begin a single day sometimes is not easy especially when you are to be in rush. Six o’clock can be too late. This is Jakarta. You have to run.

The cold water made bathing quicker. Freezing to the bone could kill. I took a glance down to the office where the administrator of this rent house might have been at his place. Yes, he just arrived. I had something to tell him. Last night I came back, there was a little water on my room’s floor. I first thought it might have splashed from the window pane when the rain was lashing as I forgot to close it before leaving the room. Later I found, it was from the leak on the ceiling.

So the rush would have to be delayed for a complaining session. This morning had to cheat the clock. I had got it.

“Good morning, Sir. “ I greeted him with smile. “Have you just come? I saw you preparing.”  
“Ya, just came. Going to work? This is still early.” His eyes still looked sleepy.
“eeh.. ya, I got more works to do. After all, I have to break the jam.”
“hehehe… You want coffee?” He offered me. “The time I was going here, the street was still loose. No jams”
“Nah, I don’t drink coffee. Thanks. Actually, e.., I think I found a leak on the ceiling of my room. I am occupant 22 on the forth floor. I am afraid it will be getting worse by the time we have the next rain.”

I was thinking whether he knew me.  Hope don’t bother him.

“Oh, really? Let me check.” He took a book, opened and read it a while, his eyes screening. “your door number, what is it again?”
“Door 22. My room is right next to the stair. It is on the edge.”  I confirmed.
“You Dimas, right?” He told surely having found my name on his book. “You are rarely coming here. Mmm…, yah. The person in the opposite door of you complained about the same thing yesterday. We’re gonna fix it.”
“I am. Has his room been fixed?” I wondered.
“No, eeh, not yet. It is to be done today. We’ll also fix yours too. Yap.”  

That means a delay of fixing the roof, I worried.  I need more than just a water roof. I need a water proof. And I need a proof that the quick repair is certain.

“eee, okay.  Hope it can be fixed soon. I am afraid it will rain more frequently, may be this afternoon as it has been for few days. I got electrical  appliances in my room. I need to be sure the leak stop.”
“ Ya, we’ll work on it.” He shortly assured.
“Should I leave my key?”
“No, we do the fixing from the roof. Not inside.”
“Ok, thank you Sir.”
…

Now the realtime  myself had to run.

Yes, I had to run. I had to compete for city public space. Streets in Capital were rarely making sense. I thought I came out so early that I could flee and expect at least a short jam. But what good did I hope?  Monday was too sober for listening? A sanctuary in the rush? People in this morning race kept rules?

It was just dawn, even the sky had not finished changing to brighter color, but all seemed already on their stage. Everyone was moving and jamming every single road. It seemed like they had already booked the streets since last night before I knew my turn. Traffic jam. There might be an art of subtle escape of this wasting time- routine. Was really there an escape?  

The passengers I had with me inside the public car mostly were mothers and a woman. Mothers with their school kids. That made a noisy car.

I saw the kids. They were with their playing mood. Look them! They never bothered the jam. Yah, I might have learnt that it was useless to angry at the useless jam. Kids could enjoy getting on a car, as I was when I was a kid too. So, why couldn’t I this time?

And a woman right by me was very quiet. Oh, she was sleeping. She was, until she realized that she missed the spot where she had to get off. She was a little bit upset. Well, just don’t be late, maam.

And then I was the only passenger, desperately clicking to anything but this traffic pollution. What might seem left so clicking to mind was that view, the Javanese Southern Mountain Range fencing so proudly on the south horizon. You can see it very obvious if the sky is much clear. Gunung Salak, the highest.   

“Where do you get off, son?” The old driver asked. Sucking his mouth A Mild cigarette.
“Pondok Labu. Are we still going there?” I hated his smoke.
“Yah, If you don’t get off anywhere around here, I will turn to another loose route”.
“Fine. You do it!”

An escape??

He could not trick the massive jam all the way in front of him. There was a traffic light about a kilometer  ahead and an open highway, Jakarta’s Outer Ring Road exit. The green light could not spare time for anyone who was slow. And pitily, we all had to be slow.  So he made a U turn under the flyover and pushed into a more convenient road. A shortcut.

It was residence road on the western region of Cilandak. Very narrow. Only exactly enough for two cars passing by. Anyone must be very careful when making turn on the intersects to avoid contact with other vehicles.
Of course, it was jammed too.  No escape. But, more loose.

“Is it sometimes like this?”
“What?” he looked me from the mirror.
“ee, I mean the traffic. This morning looks more rushing.”
“As you may know, Mr. President’s bride show in Hattarajasa residence. The ceremony is being held today.”
“oh, ya. Yaa, I remember.”

I guessed the traffic jam was my real show. The only good thing was that suddenly Mr. Policeman found his real job.
He took another cigarette. … there was a driver, an old man in distress.
…


The first job on the ‘to do list’ today pulled me back into the rush. Going to the bank. The person in charge was ill today and I replaced. Now I had double jobs to finish, mine and his.

There it was traffic jam again.
...


BCA is the busiest bank I know. The service length may vary but in most of its branches, they do it very quick and very standardized.  And they keep name, if you do come somewhat regularly.

I expected a long standing line before reaching the counter as it was usual on Monday.  It was. Thought good enough to have book to read. You had time.

And the teller with her formal soft voice greeted me when I reached the counter.

“Morning, Sir. Welcome to BCA. I am Maya. Is there something I can do for you? Could I know with whom I am serving now?”

She was very warm but formal. It was actually weird for me. The same manner that you can find with a stewardess at your service. Someone that you don’t know but treat you nice.

“I am Dimas. I wan to deposit and deliver some giros to clear over.”  

The service ran very smoothly. The thing I could enjoy was to see them, these young boys and girls doing their job in a well trained manner. This person, name Maya seemed pour all for the job. She used both the counting machines right and left her.

She catched my smile and asked why.

“ Oh, I never saw that before. Right and left, right and left. You did fast.” I said.

A surprise in the bank was encountering an old friend on the downstairs. His name was Pri. Both of us once stayed in the same rent house with the room next to each other in Cinere. But we were not close friend. We only talked very often. What made us have a common was we ever waited for the same girl’s love. And we both knew it after he had talked about the girl many times and so had I. But it did nothing to our friendship. We kept being friend. The way the coincidence happened perhaps made us feel strange. We were very late to know such thing could be intertwined.

I believed that this earth is big and wide. But strange things do happen. Loving the same person?

The girl and he now enjoy a happy ending. Pri married somebody else and now has a kid while the girl also with somebody else and now in her pregnancy.

“So Dimas, where is yours? I mean your own happy ending. You never show. Is your solitude not long enough?” My friend asked when I told the story.

“mmm… Yah, I am happy. Happy to tell you a story. I am happy with that. You can be so humorous for things that may tear you. Really.”

Yap. It is a happy small world to live in. In the end, we all know we have our course that once we think very questionable. An inevitable secret of life. 

I cannot stand laughing at myself. I think I am restless but actually having gone nowhere.
...

And the way back to the office would have to be in rush again. And doing double jobs meant sitting on double seat. I was a single fighter, forging my partner, thing that anyone was inept to do without being in the mood especially when more money was not a certain payback. I do like my job. It has been feeding me for years. To find this second home was not easy.

It was all day in my own office rush. I could not even slip into a minute pause. But I enjoyed doing them. And in the end, the only one who clapped hand to that lone single fighter was the self of his own.  I did great today. I may be imperfect, but I have done reaching perfect. May be no one cares, but why should I care anyone cares?
...


So, it was 5.45. The last look to the reddish cloudy sky gave me an idea of going somewhere before home. 

And…

Again and again. There was always a rush.  The last was the 21 ticket line.

...

Life always needs attending because it shows. 


Kb.Lama. 
30.11.11