Buka Puasa…

5:30pm
Segelas kolak pisang, teh manis hangat, air mineral dalam kemasan. Sepiring nasi putih, lengkap dengan lauk pauk , sepiring kecil kacang goreng rasa, pisang goreng atau tape goreng. Sepotong pisang ambon dan sebutir jeruk pontianak.
And when you’re having an international feast, just slightly change the menu, and voila! It’s your “Buka Puasa Bersama” menu…

“Beduknya jam berapa sih?”
“Mas, Mas, udah Adzan belum ya?”
“Permisi Mbak, sekarang jam berapa ya?”

All of those questions will pop up during the hour.

A friend of mine commented on this weird observation. “Kenapa segitunya amat sih?”

Puasa Ramadhan is one of the hardest time in our year. They say the satans are chained up so that we, Muslims can focus on our “Ibadah”.
But frankly, during Ramadhan, it’s actually the hardest time we hold ourselves from the any rage. It’s almost as if the satans hide in our most inner self, waking all the evils with the red code: Hunger.

This morning I saw 2 motorcyclists almost chewed each other up in traffic because one of them bumped the other in the rear area. The same incident would have probably been shrugged off under normal circumstances. But it’s Ramadhan, the fasting season. When the stomach is empty, the head and the heart are too.

I would say personally that holding myself against hunger is easy. But to extend that to holding myself against all other “hawa nafsu”, be it “passion for sexual activities” or “rage” is a totally different ball game.

Now it’s inching forward towards bedug Maghrib. Do we Muslims have some severe physical condition, a severe hypoglycemia for instance, to force us to “eat our heart out” the minute we hear Adzan Maghrib; or do we simply justify ourselves that it’s the evil in our stomach who demands meals at once?

Malls are filled with people breaking their fast.

5.50pm
Everyone glances at their watches, hoping the time would pass sooner. Parking spaces are just as packed as the fast food restaurant.

At adzan maghrib, befall silence. Only clanking of spoons and forks to the glass or ceramic plates, the clinking of glasses we hear. No one is still waiting for their dinner. Every one has been served. And I’ll leave you 2 guesses. What is the least crowded place at exactly bedug maghrib time? Yes. The Mushalla (praying rooms).

Call me cynical, but I help contribute.
Yes, I’m hypoglycemic. When I’m hungry, I’m cranky.
Now who’s with me?

Taxi Driver

This afternoon my fiancé and I went to Setiabudi Building (Kuningan) to meet with our friend from college for a Buka Puasa Bersama, celebrating the recent event that took place.

After a hearty meal we shifted to coffee with lengthy yet light conversation at Starbucks.
Topics changed hands like some quick transaction. There were some systematic rules. Not more than 10 minutes should be spent on this topic, all 3 persons involved in the conversation should contribute to the conversation with equally, no voice raised, eyes should meet during the whole conversation, no yawns, etc. You know, the basic rule of having a conversation with your friend (applied from experience in moderating a meeting in Toastmasters). We needed the rules to cover as many topics as possible in one sitting, without letting go the importance of the depth of the conversation itself. So you want to cover width and depth. You want breadth. Anyway, there’s a lot of theory you need to oblige to when you’re meeting with friends. But, as time passes by, as your friendship grows, they come by as a natural thing.

What was I getting at?

Oh, anyway… (hahaha, and I called myself a Toastmasters, I can’t even master my own timing and topic management…)

After we finished with the meal, covered as many topics as possible over 2 cups of coffee at the green lady, we took off.
We took Blue Bird (because it’s the only taxi we’ll trust to take us at such late hours) taxi.

Bear with me, the lengthy conversation below is necessary in the plot.

A: “Pak, ke WTC Sudirman ya.”
R: “Nanti berhenti sebentar di Polres Kuningan ya.”
Taxi driver: “Wah, di Kuningan nggak ada Polres Bu. Adanya Polsek.”
R: “Oo, bedanya apa ya? Emang gedean mana sih Sektor sama Resort?”
A: “Gedean Resort. Kalo Sektor levelnya Kelurahan.”
R: “Oo, kalo Polsek Kuningan, Polres Jakarta Selatan, gitu ya? Ampun deh, katanya pingin daftar WWTBAM, bedanya Sektor sama Resort aja nggak tau.”
An: ”Hehehe, mau daftar juga ya Ret?”
TD: ”Saya beberapa kali coba test kuis WWTBAM, itu Pak, ikut latihannya yang pakai CD. Saya coba yang Mudah, saya sudah dapat 500juta!“
An: “Wah, hebat juga ya Pak...“
R: “Sebenarnya tantangan utamanya itu bukan soalnya Pak. Harusnya latihan bagaimana menghadai Dian Sastro nanti. Biarpun sudah siap semua, tapi kalau ketemu Dian Sastro, bisa gugup, lupa semua jadinya...“
An: ”Itu baru Dian Sastro ya, bagaimana kalau Titi Kamal ya... Dia kan lebih menggoda lagi bukan?”
TD: ”Tapi menurut saya, yang paling gawat kalau pembawa acaranya Tamara Blezinsky. Aduh, itu baru menggoda sekali...”
R: ”Tamara bukannya agak jutek ya Pak?”
A: ”Iya ya, tampangnya kan jutek sekali ya...”
TD: ”Wah, salah itu Bu. Tamara itu ramah sekali. Senyum, baik pokoknya. Tapi temen saya bilang paling malas kalau dapat artis Sophia Latjuba. Sombong, ngatur2 arah. Pokoknya tobat deh.”
R: ”Oo, Sophia sombong ya Pak? Kirain sombongan Tamara?”
TD: “Oh, nggak Bu. Tamara super ramah. Itu, istrinya Anjas, Dian Nitami, kan tampangnya super jutek, tapi orangnya, baik luar biasa. Nggak kayak suaminya, pelit. Waktu saya narik dia, Anjas kasih argonya mepet. Istrinya yang baik, dia bilang “Ini buat Bapak deh. Biarin aja Pak, suami saya emang pelit.” Gitu Bu.”
TD: “Artis yang baik lagi Bu, itu Jeremy Thomas. Saya pernah bawa dia. Dia panggil ke rumah Bu. Saya kaget juga. Ternyata itu Jeremy Thomas, panggilannya Jemmy, mirip nama saya. Itu orangnya Bu, ganteng luar biasa. Tebar pesona Bu. Perempuan pasti tergila-gila sama dia. Saya aja minder liat dia, ganteng luar biasa...”
R: “Wah, masak sih Pak, saya sih emang nggak terlalu suka ya, menurut saya biasa aja tuh.”
A: “Iya, biasa aja kok...”
TD: “Ibu belom pernah ketemu langsung sih.”
R&A: “Sering kok Pak, kalau ketemu di PIM. Biasa aja kok...”
TD: “Wah, ganteng sekali Bu, dia. Bodoh kalau perempuan sampai nggak naksir.”
R: “Hehehe, saya bodoh dong Pak.”
A: “Berhenti sini aja Pak, nggak usah masuk nggak apa-apa kok.”
R: “Wah, udah sampai ya Pak. Terimakasih banyak ya Pak...”

Climbing out of the taxi I was amazed. Did that man just strike a conversation with us that way?
He was not reluctant. He was warm, yet he wasn’t nosy at all.

I said, being a taxi driver (or any kind of private chauffer for that matter), you have to have some sort of interpersonal skill. You need to be able to break the ice, otherwise, with all sorts of different types of people you drive, you’re bound to hit a wall, and you’ll have a bad day.
You have to be able to strike a conversation, without being nosy.

My company’s driver, Pak U (let’s just call him that) is one other good example.
Whenever he drives us to the client, he always knows when to blend in the conversation, and when he must refrain from talking, or even try to listen. Whenever my colleague and I talk about general trivia stuff, he would jump in the conversation, and contribute as an equal partner, sometimes, he even gives very insightful inputs for us. But when the topic revolves around clients, work load, or the darling big boss, he will not interfere. It’s like his ears have some sort of an automatic filter.

Now these men, these drivers meet more people than average white collars do.

We, the white collars may claim in our CV that we “have excellent interpersonal skill”, etc. But sometimes, we don’t practice what we preach. Sometimes we don’t bother to say hello to people who bring us drink everyday. Sometimes we neglect to keep a simple conversation, just for the sake of “silaturahmi”. But when no one invites us to join in the conversation, why do we feel it’s our right to extend our ears to listen, or to rifle through our colleagues’ stuff, mind their business, or give them uninvited and unnecessary lectures?

I take it the hardest.
I admit. I am far from a good player in society. I don’t tend to people who needs my attention but when others shout “shut off”, I take it as a personal request to meddle. Why? Tanya kenapa…

I’m a bad person. I know.
I’m lower than low. Even when I claim I know all the rules for a good conversation between friends, I know I have a lot to learn from this taxi driver and this company chauffer. Those who never claimed anything.

For now, I have to plead innocent. Blame the company culture.
But shame on me if I keep on pointing fingers to someone else. Because the 4 other fingers point at me.

It’s a harsh awakening I got from a simple 10 minute drive conversation. But thanks to that, I hope I will have a better perspective of myself now.

Keep that nosy snout to yourself Ret.
You’ve got enough problems of your own.
Don’t need to mind others’.

Career???

The place where I am is not the place I want to be.
I want to be high, up above. But I’m nowhere near the skies.

I know I can’t complain, lest make this an issue for my unhappiness.
But I’m only human. A bad one, that is.

What do I have to do to GET THERE?

Another sigh…
Another shrug…

They say:
Life is too short to be unhappy (Fatboy Slim in That Old Pair of Jeans).

I guess I’ve been taking my life for granted.
Maybe life is happy. I just haven’t been paying attention…