Orang Keempat

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Apa yang menyenangkan dari Yogyakarta?

Pertanyaan cliche yang akan kutanyakan kepada banyak orang yang datang kemari, juga pada diriku sendiri. Di Stasiun Tugu siang ini, aku menyaksikan keberangkatan, kepulangan, perpisahan dan perjumpaan. Setiap kali ada pengumuman mengenai kedatangan atau keberangkatan kereta aku menatap panjang ke arah selatan dalam diam. Kadang kesal menyusup mengingat sudah ada hampir 4 juta manusia yang menghuni Yogyakarta tahun ini menurut BPS, cukup padat ditambah panas yang menyengat, sumuk! Lalu apa yang menyenangkan dari Yogyakarta? Terik matahari yang dalam setengah jam saja mampu membuat kulit gosong, tapi bagi yang beruntung  bisa mendapatkan legam seksi? Atau uang 10.000 saja bisa membuat kenyang bahkan lebih dari kenyang dengan membeli 4 nasi kucing? Atau dengan 300.000 saja bisa mendapatkan kamar dengan kasur, meja dan lemari sebagai tempat tinggal sebulan? Or the fact that Yogyakarta is ruled by Keraton descendent over decades, a special regency with a  monarchy perfume spread in a republican country? Indeed special.

Siang yang terik ditambah Stasiun Tugu bagian barat yang tidak ramah untuk penjemput-penjemput sepertiku, karena tidak adanya tempat menunggu untuk sekedar duduk di luar stasiun membuat mood-ku anjlok. Pemandangan menarik tengah berlangsung 10 meter dari tangga tempatku duduk. Seorang Kakek dengan sebatang rokok terselip diantara bibirnya  sedang memotong kukunya sambil berdiri, kakinya dinaikkan ke trotoar di samping tas cangklong besar dan tongkat kayunya. Sesekali dia menyesap rokoknya dan diselanya ia meringis kesakitan karena berdiri terlalu lama. Kakinya berkali-kali diusap, tak lama dia duduk dan mengoleskan semacam salep ke kaki kirinya. Ada bekas luka disana, tapi mungkin itu bukan satu-satunya alasan.

Despite the reality of his unmatch outfit for my own justification, – a white red stripped shirt, dark grey pants and a Swalow sandal,  also a civilian look pointed by his chain necklace- he seems comfortable taking care of his nails down there. He looked just fine doing his business on keeping up to his own justification of beauty on his nails. Not that it is a wrong thing for a certain look to take care of nails, it is just a rare view, an old man, an old train station, manicure activity while smoking a cigarette under the sunshine, odd combination, like a rainbow sprinkles over your morning soto, ODD? YES for my referral. I want this particular scene to be drawn in a black and white sketch hanging on my walls one day, with his toenails in fuchsia.

Still with a cigarette on his lips, he is rubbing his wound or from what I see is a birthmark, black like a burn. It looked painful while he’s rubbing an ointment on it. Then he gazes long to the station, a long, strong and wild gaze. As if he was the owner here, once. His belonging is not much but he seems to have a hard time taking care of them, his feet is the reason I guess. 

Terlihat kesakitan, dia bangun, pula membuatku kesakitan saat menyaksikan, dikeluarkannya botol minuman berwarna pink magenta (a sprinkle over soto kind of vibe, rare beauty), disesapnya minuman kuning didalamnya, diangkatnya tas dan digenggamnya tongkat untuk membantunya berjalan. Meniti tangga, dilewatinya aku. Kemudian dia memasuki ruangan untuk memesan tiket, tidak mau kehilangannya, aku mengikuti dan mengawasinya dari balik kaca kalau-kalau dia butuh bantuan. Tak lama, dia keluar lagi, aku mengikutinya.

“Bapak mau pesan tiket ya?” tanyaku memberanikan diri.

“Iya,” he was a bit flustered.

“Bapak sudah ambil nomor antriannya? “

“Sudah kok, number 92,” katanya  sambil tersenyum lebar. It’s for real! He speaks English!

“Oh saya kira belum ambil, sekarang sudah sampai nomor berapa, pak? Saya lihatkan sebentar ya pak”, tanpa menunggu responnya, aku berinisiatif untuk mengecek kembali nomor antriannya, “Sebentar ya pak coba saya cek kembali” lalu melongok kedalam untuk memastikan.

“Wah iya, masih nomor 64 pak sekarang, masih lama banget, pak, ditunggu saja,” kataku saat kembali.

Tiba-tiba banyak bapak-bapak yang mengerumuni kami. Anehnya, yang ditanyai adalah aku.

“Gimana mbak? Ada kesulitan?” tanya salah seorang satpam yang berada di kerumunan.

“Enggak kok pak, ini saya cuma bantu Bapaknya ngecek antrian,” kataku sambil menatap si Bapak yang mulai tidak nyaman dikerumuni banyak orang.

“Owalah.. sudah ambil nomor antrian kan pak? Ditunggu saja,” kata bapak  yang lain menimpali.

Tanpa babibu dan basa-basi Bapak tua tadi berbalik badan, menuruni tangga meninggalkan kerumunan ini.Seolah dia tidak nyaman dengan kerumunan bapak-bapak ini. Sementara bapak-bapak yang lain malah heboh berkeluh kesah tentang sistem pemesanan yang menyebalkan, si bapak sudah mencangklong tasnya dan mulai beranjak menjauh dari tempatnya sebelumnya. Dia seolah menghindariku dengan memindahkan barang bawaannya ke tempat yang lebih jauh dariku. Ketika aku berusaha mendekat, dia akan memalingkan muka, jika aku berusaha untuk lewat didepannya, menyapanya , dia akan menunduk saja, sampai akhirnya dia berpindah ke tempat di dalam ruangan dan duduk di pojok ruangan seolah tak memperbolehkan yang lain mendekatinya. Now, it’s official, he’s avoiding me. 

I am starting to ask my self, did I do anything wrong? Is helping an old and weak stranger now a wrong thing? Is being sociable has gone wrong? Is being amiable now uncomfortably crossed someone’s privacy?

Aku berfikir lama, dalam diam, sampai jari-jariku mulai menuliskan ini semua di notes handphoneku. Maybe I was appear to be sok baik, sok peduli, sok ma ikut campur urusan orang lain. Maybe I was a little aggressive.

Tertegun aku menyadari terkadang aku sering meremehkan kemampuan orang lain, bersikap seolah semua orang membutuhkan bantuan, padahal tidak. I put him on a ‘box’ of people in need of help, when I judge him as an old and weak stranger (I really sound like a bad person now). It’s not that I am putting him on a judgmental subordination class or anything similar. I ‘judged’ him because I have an undying curiosity of who he was, what his life story, how he ended up to be the man he is today because his look (I can see his civilian looks symbolize by a sliver chain on his neck, hence I made assumptions that I keep for myself until I upload it now) attracted me.  

I bet he was a big man at his younger days, I can see his slack muscles, from the way he was avoiding my help, I feel that he took care of himself lots of times -he hardly know how to accept one. I don’t pity him. I admire him. I feel like I know him for a reason, he reminded me of my grandfather, always acted strong and never liked the idea of being taken care of. He was a grandfatherly like in a way I couldn’t explain, despite the fact that he might not even one. I watch him left with his struggle to manage himself to walk further with a long thought. Is curiosity now a selfish attempt towards human being?

xx

Tertegun aku menyadari rasa penasaran yang tumbuh kadang tidak kuasa aku bendung sendiri. I will do like fucking everything just to cure my curiosity, by starting a conversation, by giving him attention, not really considering whether it will do something to the person I am interested in, whether they do comfortable by what I did. And now that my curiosity has made somebody uncomfortable around me, I try to deal with the thought of being care and curious is different. I had mixed it up. I am trying to be nice as  an attempt to cure my curiosity. Does it a good thing? or a bad one? No one knows. I believe others happen to face the same exact thing like what happen to mine, all the time. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. It is healthy to be curious towards someone, something or anything, and what ever attempt to cure one, it has no boundaries to be crossed on. I am aware that cultivating curiosity could bring challenges and also rewards, and for this one I didn’t get the reward, I didn’t get to cure my curiosity, but that is the fun part,  you have no reason to fall or hate for the person, because you are still clueless. On the other hand, I got a challenge, to find how to cure your curiosity without being an ass for others. 

In a glimpse of moment that day, he gave me a reason to perpetuate him on a post today.

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3 thoughts on “Orang Keempat

  1. That’s how an interaction proccess happen, sist. Apalagi lingkupnya personal communication. Lumrah bgt feedback yg kita dapet ga seperti yg diprediksikan. Justru di situ serunya, haha. Lagian aku yakin orang2 yg ngerumunin kalian itu sebenernya jg mau nyamperin bapaknya tp nunggu ada yg mulai dulu 😅

    Like

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