Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Tuesday, December 02, 2008 | Posted in Reza Anggriyashati
There was an angel.
He was standing under a dying tree in middle of an abandon grassy yard. Afternoon sun gave a perfect glance of him, an unhandsome old man with almost bald gray hair. The wind breezed his dreary dirty shattered wings, a type which you wouldn’t ever see at immaculate Christmas’s postcard image.
But I knew he is an angel. His feet didn’t touch dry and cloaked soil under him. Instead, he could be perfectly portrayed as vague resemblance from Rembrandt’s painting than real flesh and blood substances like me. And I knew he was an angel because my heart said so, and what you could ever believe more? Mind, no way. It would only give you a full non-sense things which intoxicating those so-called materialists.
“Like her.” I murmured unconsciously. I didn’t know why but sometimes I couldn’t control myself.
He gave me his toothless smile as I moved toward him. He talked, with universal language, which didn’t have to be uttered. But you would understand it instantly because your heart, the very trusted part of your soul, said so. Hitherto I decided to pause my indefatigable journey of search of the truth to talk to him.
“I was lost”
“From what?” asked me, with mortal language, which had to be uttered since my mortal nature hindered me from not doing so.
“ A battle”
“What battle?”
“Of her soul.” Then he cried, with tears that you wish you wouldn’t ever see or imagine, in the rest of your sinner days.
I instantly felt some kind guilt, the one that you felt after you yelled at your parents or hurt someone you loved the most. I didn’t know why, but I assumed it was simply because he was an angel, the most sacred being after God himself. I hoped you would nod to my statement if you also believed in them.
I asked him again, “Who’s she and why you cried?” Instead of answering my question, he asked me to walk with him. I, who was charmed by his uncanny irresistible charisma, can’t resist his invitation. He seemed able providing my agitated search of answer of the real truth; one, which made me, couldn’t rest even for a while.
In the middle of our journey, we meet cavemen who wear nothing but scattered animal’s leather in their bodies. They were worshipping a giant stone and chanting words, which I couldn’t interpret. Then the thunder suddenly flashed and shattered a giant tree into two pieces. The thunder shocked them and but after few moments, they turned worshipping the torn giant tree.
I sighed with disgust feeling toward them, “Huh, morons. How dumb they are? Why they worship things that wouldn’t grant anything? Why they are very easily enchanted by any power?”
I thought The Angel would agree, or at least nod to my statement but I was shocked when he said that I was no better than those cave people. I, with my self-centered mortal proud, rejected his opinion, “Absolutely, I was better than them. Unlike those cavemen, I am worshipping monotheist God or also known as your own Boss.”
“But don’t you think they are resembling who you were in your early days?” He revealed solemnly. “They are in restless infant search of God, believing anything or anyone.” I was double stunned, not only because of his words but also some annoying memory of mine.
The sun shone brightly as if it would burn anything under its shine. I, who was captivated by his power asking, “Are you God?” No reply.
Then a cockroach mesmerized me with its disgusting so-called wings.
“Or you” I pointed the big cockroach under kitchen’s table. No reply.
Thus, I realized that I could save myself from the burn sun above me and I could kill the cockroach in few second. So…
“Or me” I pointed myself.
No reply.
Then I decided to worship myself. Ha.
“Before you become very self righteous like those so called fundamentalists, let us continue our walk and you can decide who’s better then.” Said The Angel.
After that we continued our walk until reaching the border of abandons land and city. I immediately warned him, “Don’t go to the city, the place was burned out with the inner hell.”
He only gave me a beatific smile instead of an uttered language. Again, I guessed he wanted me to follow him first.
I chose to follow him first.
We arrived at the Islamic clergy elementary school in the suburban area. The class was already started; students were listening their teacher with full-adored attention. “There is no God besides Allah, and Mohammed is His prophet.” Said teacher. My memory wandered to my own childhood days in clergy school.
“When you did naughty things, you will suddenly enter hell, the place of eternal fire where sinners become its fuel.” Said my teacher. His words rose hair at nape of my neck. Then I asked him back, “What we should do to avoid hell?” He answered with solemn voice, “Don’t do naughty things and prayed to Allah all the time.”
I was praying five times to avoid hell.
I was fasting in Ramadan only for releasing my body from hell.
No reply. But I was still worshiping God.
The angel grinned; I thought he was reading my own self-sin confession. I felt little bit embarrassed. But the Angel said that I was not the only one who felt like that. Hell is not only a horrifying but also captivating word. Most of people, prayed to God in order to avoid Hell alone.
But, was it the only core of worshipping?
Was it wrong?
How about love toward God?
How about you?
Is it God who captivating you to His shrine or his eternal fire where your full of sin body will be its eternal fuel?
I guessed no one could give us exact answer besides the Angel and of course, God himself since He is the source of all knowledge. Then I turned to Angel next me for exact answer. But I was wrong, instead answering my question; he just smiled and said that I was the only one who could answer my own restless question. Human is the most self-denying creature. No matter how perfect the answer it was, human would always seek another one and perceive what they consider as the most fitted one for them and not the truth.
Again, I was tormented by the truth. But, did he really tell the truth? My humanly egotistical feeling forced me to deny it.
Then we continued our journey until we arrived at the gate of university. Again, he shed his tears. I, who was confused by his attitude, asked him the reason behind his tears. He said that university was the place where human starts to reject God by assuming that they are already finding ultimate knowledge of everything.
“Like Her.”
“Was it wrong? Was it human’s mission to find ultimate knowledge of everything?” Asked me.
“No, there was nothing wrong about it but the arrogance was the down side. When human starts to feel they are already being the source of knowledge, they begin to be shame about believing God. They begin to separate faith from everything, as if talking about God is only one level polite than talking about enjoying carnal activity with Parisian Prostitute.” He uttered briefly.
O, don’t remind me about those days. It tortured me a lot.
“Nietzsche said that God is dead.” Said I in the front of lecturers.
No, he is still alive.
“God is only kind of opium which making society in the high stone of frantic waiting toward afterlife.”
But I am waiting for that.
“Therefore we should separate frantic belief of God in our pure minded college”
But I do believe in God like Peter Pan with his belief to fairies.
I do.
I do.
“I do believe in God.” I murmured unconsciously. Again.
“Yes, you do. She did that too.” He answered my unconscious murmur with full attention, “But you chose to pretend as if you didn’t. You knew it was very not intellectual for valedictorian like you to believe in such myth called God.”
Again, he ripped me for the truth and I am tortured as well embarrassed with my inner self. But I preferred to deny it because it was easier than accepting who really I am.
I do.
“Like Her.”
Another stop was Internet café, the new restless shrine of modern human. People starred at the computer’s screen with full attention, some giggling and some expressing their horny face. The Angel was stand still. We talked no more but watching them.
After few seconds, The Angel asked me with sounds like an archaic question, “I couldn’t understand but wonder why so called modern human built it.”
“It is new stage of modern communication, human could cut the distance and communicate easily with other people in every part of earth. Internet makes the world becoming smaller, faster, and more efficient.” I answered with kind of proud toward Internet, the best human’s invention ever.
But he grinned instead of admiring, “Don’t you think Internet is kind of oxymoron. When human say that they build new stage of communication, they also cut the real communication at same time. They are so called virtually talking to people. Frantically believing that they had find so-called friends in empty non-exist world. They are modern human who denying God but looking elsewhere to find substitute. In the end, they find nothing but empty life, like you.”
“Like Her.”
“Don’t you think, God is also kind of modern communication, an oxymoron. When I prayed to God, I felt like talking in private chatting room which giving me nothing but empty reply.” I answered him with full rage, which I didn’t understand where it came from.
He answered my question somberly, “You know you already got the answer from God himself. But you chose to be deaf, blind, and mute as if nothing had happened. Then you asked to God about why He didn’t reply your prayers. But in fact, he did.”
“Are you God?” I asked ‘Das Capital’.
“Or you?” I pointed Adam Smith.
“Or you, are you God?” I frantically asked my own laptop.
“Where’s God?” I shouted out loud to dark cloudy sky upon me.
Then my heart said with very calm voice, almost silent, “He is here, near you, very near with you.” Sorry, but I heard nothing.
No reply.
A hollow in my heart.
Tears busted out from my eyes. A hollow. A hollow. Could you explain this hollow? I turned to Angel furiously, “Why, why I can’t find him in anywhere? Why I have to feel this hollow which causing my restless search of truth.” The Angel sighed, “She also felt like that too. She felt alone, hollow. I was lost from Her soul. No reply.”
“Who’s she? Why you always talked about her? It is about me, not her. ” I asked him infuriately. “It’s about us. She’s me, She’s you. We are unison.” He revealed truth. I frowned, “Who?”
“She’s, our writer.” Said The Angel.
What.
“She writes all these things. You and me. We are merely characters who projecting Her hysterical search of God.” Revealed him.
NONONONONONO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“But NO, I am alive, I am real human, I can think, I can breathe.” Denied me.
“Yes, but everything that you did, is merely thing which was pre-instructed by Her. You are only a frantic character which resembling Her Humanity confusion about God. You have no free will, so that you can’t be classified as human.” Revealed The Angel, again.
I cried, with my selfish tears, which denied my so-called false existence and indeed, Her existence which giving me nothing but whole restless confusion.
“Why She didn’t ask me, or at least feel pity on me before She created me?” I asked him angrily. The Angel gave me no reply. His silent intensified my anger. The Internet café was suddenly gone like blur water paint and turned into desert of nowhere. The desert wind blew hard to my face and his almost shattered wings. I looked hysterically to my surroundings.
I laughed loudly. She wanted to show Her omnipotent power but again, I would fight Her, you back. “I won’t lose from you.” I shouted Her.
I shouted him afterward, “Didn’t you feel same anger like me because of your ugly physical performances which She self-interestedly created? Why She gave you, the being who has fully faith on her, such a extremely ugly physical outlooks like this?”
Then he suddenly cried, again, his tears tortured me the most. “Why you cried? Did you felt sorry for your physical outlooks?” I asked him calmly. “No, I didn’t cry for that unimportant reason. Why She had to ask us for that? She’s our Creator; She can do anything as She pleases, including creating you and me without asking our pre-permission.” Answered The Angel.
“Including creating your ugly physical performances as She wished.” I inquired him back, only to burst his angelic anger, which turned Pious Lucifer to be King of Satan. He just nodded instead turn back to be furious about Her Injustice.
“I cried because She asked same question to Her own Writer, about why She had to be created with such restless question and to be very tormented by Her own restless search of truth or I rather say the real awakening. I cried because She chose to disbelief every answer that I gave. Like you, She also couldn’t endure the truth.” The Angel reasoned. “But how difficult it is, it is the real truth. I couldn’t give you any answer ‘cause you already chose to deny me.”
I cried.
We cried.
Yes, it was. He already gave me the answer that I looked for so long but I didn’t know why I still felt the burden deep inside in my hollow heart. Why you still put it?
Maybe, maybe, it was better for me, for us, to never know the truth, to be real deaf, blind, and mute. But I couldn’t.
“Imagine if there is no heaven”
John Lennon
Sorry John, but I couldn’t.
Me.
Reza Anggriyashati Adara.
He was standing under a dying tree in middle of an abandon grassy yard. Afternoon sun gave a perfect glance of him, an unhandsome old man with almost bald gray hair. The wind breezed his dreary dirty shattered wings, a type which you wouldn’t ever see at immaculate Christmas’s postcard image.
But I knew he is an angel. His feet didn’t touch dry and cloaked soil under him. Instead, he could be perfectly portrayed as vague resemblance from Rembrandt’s painting than real flesh and blood substances like me. And I knew he was an angel because my heart said so, and what you could ever believe more? Mind, no way. It would only give you a full non-sense things which intoxicating those so-called materialists.
“Like her.” I murmured unconsciously. I didn’t know why but sometimes I couldn’t control myself.
He gave me his toothless smile as I moved toward him. He talked, with universal language, which didn’t have to be uttered. But you would understand it instantly because your heart, the very trusted part of your soul, said so. Hitherto I decided to pause my indefatigable journey of search of the truth to talk to him.
“I was lost”
“From what?” asked me, with mortal language, which had to be uttered since my mortal nature hindered me from not doing so.
“ A battle”
“What battle?”
“Of her soul.” Then he cried, with tears that you wish you wouldn’t ever see or imagine, in the rest of your sinner days.
I instantly felt some kind guilt, the one that you felt after you yelled at your parents or hurt someone you loved the most. I didn’t know why, but I assumed it was simply because he was an angel, the most sacred being after God himself. I hoped you would nod to my statement if you also believed in them.
I asked him again, “Who’s she and why you cried?” Instead of answering my question, he asked me to walk with him. I, who was charmed by his uncanny irresistible charisma, can’t resist his invitation. He seemed able providing my agitated search of answer of the real truth; one, which made me, couldn’t rest even for a while.
In the middle of our journey, we meet cavemen who wear nothing but scattered animal’s leather in their bodies. They were worshipping a giant stone and chanting words, which I couldn’t interpret. Then the thunder suddenly flashed and shattered a giant tree into two pieces. The thunder shocked them and but after few moments, they turned worshipping the torn giant tree.
I sighed with disgust feeling toward them, “Huh, morons. How dumb they are? Why they worship things that wouldn’t grant anything? Why they are very easily enchanted by any power?”
I thought The Angel would agree, or at least nod to my statement but I was shocked when he said that I was no better than those cave people. I, with my self-centered mortal proud, rejected his opinion, “Absolutely, I was better than them. Unlike those cavemen, I am worshipping monotheist God or also known as your own Boss.”
“But don’t you think they are resembling who you were in your early days?” He revealed solemnly. “They are in restless infant search of God, believing anything or anyone.” I was double stunned, not only because of his words but also some annoying memory of mine.
The sun shone brightly as if it would burn anything under its shine. I, who was captivated by his power asking, “Are you God?” No reply.
Then a cockroach mesmerized me with its disgusting so-called wings.
“Or you” I pointed the big cockroach under kitchen’s table. No reply.
Thus, I realized that I could save myself from the burn sun above me and I could kill the cockroach in few second. So…
“Or me” I pointed myself.
No reply.
Then I decided to worship myself. Ha.
“Before you become very self righteous like those so called fundamentalists, let us continue our walk and you can decide who’s better then.” Said The Angel.
After that we continued our walk until reaching the border of abandons land and city. I immediately warned him, “Don’t go to the city, the place was burned out with the inner hell.”
He only gave me a beatific smile instead of an uttered language. Again, I guessed he wanted me to follow him first.
I chose to follow him first.
We arrived at the Islamic clergy elementary school in the suburban area. The class was already started; students were listening their teacher with full-adored attention. “There is no God besides Allah, and Mohammed is His prophet.” Said teacher. My memory wandered to my own childhood days in clergy school.
“When you did naughty things, you will suddenly enter hell, the place of eternal fire where sinners become its fuel.” Said my teacher. His words rose hair at nape of my neck. Then I asked him back, “What we should do to avoid hell?” He answered with solemn voice, “Don’t do naughty things and prayed to Allah all the time.”
I was praying five times to avoid hell.
I was fasting in Ramadan only for releasing my body from hell.
No reply. But I was still worshiping God.
The angel grinned; I thought he was reading my own self-sin confession. I felt little bit embarrassed. But the Angel said that I was not the only one who felt like that. Hell is not only a horrifying but also captivating word. Most of people, prayed to God in order to avoid Hell alone.
But, was it the only core of worshipping?
Was it wrong?
How about love toward God?
How about you?
Is it God who captivating you to His shrine or his eternal fire where your full of sin body will be its eternal fuel?
I guessed no one could give us exact answer besides the Angel and of course, God himself since He is the source of all knowledge. Then I turned to Angel next me for exact answer. But I was wrong, instead answering my question; he just smiled and said that I was the only one who could answer my own restless question. Human is the most self-denying creature. No matter how perfect the answer it was, human would always seek another one and perceive what they consider as the most fitted one for them and not the truth.
Again, I was tormented by the truth. But, did he really tell the truth? My humanly egotistical feeling forced me to deny it.
Then we continued our journey until we arrived at the gate of university. Again, he shed his tears. I, who was confused by his attitude, asked him the reason behind his tears. He said that university was the place where human starts to reject God by assuming that they are already finding ultimate knowledge of everything.
“Like Her.”
“Was it wrong? Was it human’s mission to find ultimate knowledge of everything?” Asked me.
“No, there was nothing wrong about it but the arrogance was the down side. When human starts to feel they are already being the source of knowledge, they begin to be shame about believing God. They begin to separate faith from everything, as if talking about God is only one level polite than talking about enjoying carnal activity with Parisian Prostitute.” He uttered briefly.
O, don’t remind me about those days. It tortured me a lot.
“Nietzsche said that God is dead.” Said I in the front of lecturers.
No, he is still alive.
“God is only kind of opium which making society in the high stone of frantic waiting toward afterlife.”
But I am waiting for that.
“Therefore we should separate frantic belief of God in our pure minded college”
But I do believe in God like Peter Pan with his belief to fairies.
I do.
I do.
“I do believe in God.” I murmured unconsciously. Again.
“Yes, you do. She did that too.” He answered my unconscious murmur with full attention, “But you chose to pretend as if you didn’t. You knew it was very not intellectual for valedictorian like you to believe in such myth called God.”
Again, he ripped me for the truth and I am tortured as well embarrassed with my inner self. But I preferred to deny it because it was easier than accepting who really I am.
I do.
“Like Her.”
Another stop was Internet café, the new restless shrine of modern human. People starred at the computer’s screen with full attention, some giggling and some expressing their horny face. The Angel was stand still. We talked no more but watching them.
After few seconds, The Angel asked me with sounds like an archaic question, “I couldn’t understand but wonder why so called modern human built it.”
“It is new stage of modern communication, human could cut the distance and communicate easily with other people in every part of earth. Internet makes the world becoming smaller, faster, and more efficient.” I answered with kind of proud toward Internet, the best human’s invention ever.
But he grinned instead of admiring, “Don’t you think Internet is kind of oxymoron. When human say that they build new stage of communication, they also cut the real communication at same time. They are so called virtually talking to people. Frantically believing that they had find so-called friends in empty non-exist world. They are modern human who denying God but looking elsewhere to find substitute. In the end, they find nothing but empty life, like you.”
“Like Her.”
“Don’t you think, God is also kind of modern communication, an oxymoron. When I prayed to God, I felt like talking in private chatting room which giving me nothing but empty reply.” I answered him with full rage, which I didn’t understand where it came from.
He answered my question somberly, “You know you already got the answer from God himself. But you chose to be deaf, blind, and mute as if nothing had happened. Then you asked to God about why He didn’t reply your prayers. But in fact, he did.”
“Are you God?” I asked ‘Das Capital’.
“Or you?” I pointed Adam Smith.
“Or you, are you God?” I frantically asked my own laptop.
“Where’s God?” I shouted out loud to dark cloudy sky upon me.
Then my heart said with very calm voice, almost silent, “He is here, near you, very near with you.” Sorry, but I heard nothing.
No reply.
A hollow in my heart.
Tears busted out from my eyes. A hollow. A hollow. Could you explain this hollow? I turned to Angel furiously, “Why, why I can’t find him in anywhere? Why I have to feel this hollow which causing my restless search of truth.” The Angel sighed, “She also felt like that too. She felt alone, hollow. I was lost from Her soul. No reply.”
“Who’s she? Why you always talked about her? It is about me, not her. ” I asked him infuriately. “It’s about us. She’s me, She’s you. We are unison.” He revealed truth. I frowned, “Who?”
“She’s, our writer.” Said The Angel.
What.
“She writes all these things. You and me. We are merely characters who projecting Her hysterical search of God.” Revealed him.
NONONONONONO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“But NO, I am alive, I am real human, I can think, I can breathe.” Denied me.
“Yes, but everything that you did, is merely thing which was pre-instructed by Her. You are only a frantic character which resembling Her Humanity confusion about God. You have no free will, so that you can’t be classified as human.” Revealed The Angel, again.
I cried, with my selfish tears, which denied my so-called false existence and indeed, Her existence which giving me nothing but whole restless confusion.
“Why She didn’t ask me, or at least feel pity on me before She created me?” I asked him angrily. The Angel gave me no reply. His silent intensified my anger. The Internet café was suddenly gone like blur water paint and turned into desert of nowhere. The desert wind blew hard to my face and his almost shattered wings. I looked hysterically to my surroundings.
I laughed loudly. She wanted to show Her omnipotent power but again, I would fight Her, you back. “I won’t lose from you.” I shouted Her.
I shouted him afterward, “Didn’t you feel same anger like me because of your ugly physical performances which She self-interestedly created? Why She gave you, the being who has fully faith on her, such a extremely ugly physical outlooks like this?”
Then he suddenly cried, again, his tears tortured me the most. “Why you cried? Did you felt sorry for your physical outlooks?” I asked him calmly. “No, I didn’t cry for that unimportant reason. Why She had to ask us for that? She’s our Creator; She can do anything as She pleases, including creating you and me without asking our pre-permission.” Answered The Angel.
“Including creating your ugly physical performances as She wished.” I inquired him back, only to burst his angelic anger, which turned Pious Lucifer to be King of Satan. He just nodded instead turn back to be furious about Her Injustice.
“I cried because She asked same question to Her own Writer, about why She had to be created with such restless question and to be very tormented by Her own restless search of truth or I rather say the real awakening. I cried because She chose to disbelief every answer that I gave. Like you, She also couldn’t endure the truth.” The Angel reasoned. “But how difficult it is, it is the real truth. I couldn’t give you any answer ‘cause you already chose to deny me.”
I cried.
We cried.
Yes, it was. He already gave me the answer that I looked for so long but I didn’t know why I still felt the burden deep inside in my hollow heart. Why you still put it?
Maybe, maybe, it was better for me, for us, to never know the truth, to be real deaf, blind, and mute. But I couldn’t.
“Imagine if there is no heaven”
John Lennon
Sorry John, but I couldn’t.
Me.
Reza Anggriyashati Adara.
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