Blessing is a swan
Walking, swimming and flying
Around garden lake.
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graphs of my Universe
Blessing is a swan
Walking, swimming and flying
Around garden lake.
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The ripples on this heart
After a touch from a falling feather
Wrapped in a trivial memory
Of a name
Loaded with wisdom
Whispered silently
Forever.
Is this your name, Beloved?
Or mine?
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Water, air and hair:
She draws figures and colours
To a sweet daydream.
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A line of this heart remembers
Whatβs not even in memories.
Flowing clean river hidden in the skyβ
The other line of this heart remembers
Only whatβs imprinted through relations.
Murky pool standing around the earthβ
Donβt have the right to be missed
With these limited memories.
This sky is hidden by the cloudβ
Donβt have the right to be remembered
With absence of relations.
This earth is full of locked doors.
Can only miss whatβs not imprinted.
Can only remember whatβs hidden.
Still beautiful
Still amazing
Yet hidden
Yet secretive
Circled around between hearts
That read whatβs not inky written.
Thereβs an end
To a dream.
Itβs when coming true
Or coming dead.
And thatβs the light at the end of a tunnel
Of light
Of wide spectrum
In which weβre prancing.
Choose your colour.
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Too good to be true,
Yet too long to be untrue;
A dangling long dreamβ
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One of my dreams that might never come true is meeting Banksy. It doesnβt matter, not all dreams come true; some are dangling in my hair beautifully visiting me every night.
God bless Banksy for his inspiration on love and peace.
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Iβve printed many of Banksyβs works and here are some of my favourite.





Another productive week in Singapore be like: watching Iwet and Dian while treating my batik collection then more videos to keep the vibe positive
FYI, batik should be exposed to sun and air once in a while to keep it dry and of original colours. While treating them, the collectors will usually recollect the meaning pinned on the batik patterns. Batik is beautiful friend like those people giving me inspiration without their knowing it.
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Ocean welcomes all,
River flown and rain fallen.
Friends in a friendshipβ
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A meet up with my first mentor training me in my current profession almost 20 years ago. He and his wife are in Singapore to celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary and spend this whole day to meet up with me: shopping in Orchard Road Apple Store, browsing around looking for my favourite Japanese restaurant that was found closed down since 2021, having lunch (Indonesian food in Singaporeβ¦.? Oh my) walking around Orchard Road, taking MRT for fun, enjoying evening coffee in Starbucks Bugis Junction before our farewell.
This wise couple gave me a bunch of advices to be this and to be thatβ¦. How lovely this life is to have friends who are willing to share their (personal) experiences for precious lesson learning.
Thank you, Pak Donny and Mbak Maya. See you in Jakarta! πππ½
Alfatihah to my dear friends.

Productive weekend in Singapore be likeβ¦.
Thereβs only one way to leave a forest: its edge. Throw away the doubt.
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Cold breeze blows softly
On weekends, and on the leaves
Rustling about me.
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There is a moment
Called almost. Itβs smile or sigh
Unexpectedlyβ
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Picture borrowed from a good reading: http://thegctv.com/the-power-of-almost/
Youβre layers of light
Disclosed by layers of dark
To an open heart.
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Not answered questions:
Those to be pinned with meanings
By them questioningβ
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Surabaya did sum up my medium-length end-of-year holiday of mine. Hosted by one best friend, this 32-hour visit meant much to me: a lot of chat and enough food.
With this best friend open discussion is a routine. Last nightβs discussion while driving around the city was everything about money. We both treat money differently. She is a better financial planner, I am a learner.
We used to be curious about what money truly was. Money discussion had always been a hot topic before and last night we both finally agreed that money can be defined as anything according to the one managing it.
We know different types of friends and their behaviour towards money. There are friends who meticulously count money (stingy), friends who think money is a symbol of welfare (social status), friends who consider money is everything (arrogant), friends who consider money is treasure (stupid), friends who consider money is nothing (careless), friends who donβt believe that money is a thing (maybe almost dead), friends who have little money (poor), friends who constantly borrow money (lazy). Complete experience. π
What is money to us? We both donβt have special place for money at the same time we have special space for money. It is a tool. It is the replaceable at times, the irreplaceable at others. It is what it is with given context. We both agree that a question of βwhat is moneyβ doesnβt need an accurate answer; it just needs honest response. Answer is too rigid and feels like a reaction; response is more flexible and almost a wisdom. Example? If having money makes us think we are more respectable than others, that is an accurate answer. If having no money makes us think we are less than others, that is an accurate answer. If having money makes us more functional as human beings in some situation, that is an honest response. If having no money makes us less complaining and harder working, that is an honest response.
We both donβt expect to be in forever comfort by having so much money yet donβt want to live uncomfortably because of having not enough money. We simply want to have sufficient amount as what is needed in life.
This visit puts me back on track that βlife is just like thatβ at the same time βlife is worth fighting for and beautifully livingβ with good will and a small touch of power from money.
Before driving me to the airport, she commented on my eyes.
BF: Have you put eyeliner?
Me: No
BF: Told you to always put eyeliner. You have one?
Me: Ya
BF: What colour?
Me: Brown
BF: No, no. Try blue.
Me: (frown on my forehead). I donβt have blue one.
BF: Try this. (handing a blue eyeliner to me)
Me: (reluctantly putting blue eyeliner on both eyes)
BF: Look at that! Brighter eyes! Ok, take it. Wear blue eyeliner more.
Me: Ok, as long as not green that turns me to a green-eyed. How much is it?
BF: I am not selling it to you. A tiny token of friendship. Not everything should be paid with money. Thanks for the birthday gift, too.
Thank you. Happy birthday, Madam Scorpio.
See you again.
Salaam.

Manusia mengembarai langit
Manusia menyusuri cakrawala
Tidak untuk menguasainya
Melainkan untuk menguji dirinya
Apakah dia bertahan menjadi manusia,
Tidak untuk hebat kuasa atau perkasa
Melainkan untuk setia sebagai manusia.
(Emha Ainun Nadjib)
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Good morning, Surabaya. You did a lot of moulding to this human being. Thank you!!! π
Off days on the move
Between cities, finding me
Missing one cityβ
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This evening we sat down in a cafe which is never my favourite to do. A new friend said βSingapore is the least favourite city of mine.β and I didnβt mind. Yet suddenly something knocked on my heart; it triggered me to miss a home.
The orchids that greet me with no complaint. The books that wait for me patiently. The laundry that stand by until I let them sit nicely in the cupboard. The floor that shines after some mopping. The air that hugs me through rain and shine. The warm feeling of safety and security.
How I miss myself in a home which I officially call a home. A weird feeling about Singapore that is truly now to me a home.
See you soon, my humble abode. π
Salaam.

Garden of the death
Where pray and wish are whispered
To eternityβ
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Hello, dear friendship.
This ship is sailing smoothly,
Storms donβt ruin our cruise.
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Four are (fake) backpackers. One is (true) camper. We all sail together in a ship called friendship.
Alfatihah.
π



If a photo album is a figure of speech, below is pars pro toto. Yet figure of speech accuracy is based on the writerβs level of expertise.


















Donβt let anything and anyone be a happiness snatcher even if they hurt you unintentionally or intentionally.
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Feel good is successfully deciphering the codes in my life.


The green yard behind
Is where greets and smiles soft-land
On the plate and glass.
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Wondered about home.
Has wandered finding a home.
Sheβs learnt sheβs a home.
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Feel good is feel home wherever she is.



Red rose on white tomb:
Greeting to another world
That sees but says notβ
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Nyekar is one tradition that many Javanese still keep until today. Nyekarcomes from the word sekar that means flower. Nyekar is sprinkling flowers on to someoneβs tomb as part of a prayer to the loved ones lying under the tomb.
Javanese pin a meaning to the word and activity of nyekar by relating it with the flowersβ fragrance, colours and shapes. The fragrance and beauty of the flowers sprinkled on to the tomb are sent as supplementary to the prayer whispered by those βvisiting the deadβ. At the same time it is to remind the living that it should be the good deed and memories of the dead to be cherished; bad memories and bad deed should be neutralised through forgiveness β not easy but doable.
Aside from flowers Javanese add boreh as part of the flowers sprinkled. Boreh literally means to spread or to smear cream or paste on to skin. Borehis mixture of ground dlingo (Acorus calamus L) and bengkle or bengle or bangle (Zingiber cassumunar). Dlingo has a kerata basa (acronym) of elingothat means to remember. Bengkle has a kerata basa of becik kelakuane that means good deed. In short, boreh is added to the flowers to emphasize the importance of remembering the good deed of the dead they visit.
What a beautiful visit is made to the dead by those Javanese who understand what they sprinkle on to the tomb of their loved ones.
So, no it is not just beautiful flowers or flowers arrangement; more than that, it is the beautiful meaning that Javanese pinned to the flowers.
Salaam.

Just in case my kitchen is resting, here is a list of Javanese heaven on earth for my hungry stomach.
π
GUDEG
SOTO
SATE
AYAM
BEBEK
GADO2/PECEL/LONTONG
BAKSO/PEMPEK
And many more….β€
Tragic is comic
After fermentation time.
Dark jokes bring bright joy.
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We always remember how our father loved our mother. He liked giving gifts to her and doing household chores like cleaning the floor and doing heavy laundry. Yet he also enjoyed teasing my mother around; his goal was to make her angry just to show that he was good at calming her down. π Yet his strong affection to our mother did one extreme discomfort to her and some of us.
This morning my older siblings asked mother to re-tell a story that we the younger donβt record well as we were too young to save the moment. While they laughed before she started telling the story, we three waited curiously.
Mother: Once I went with my friend to a beauty parlour. She wanted to have her hair cut.
Younger children: With whom?
Mother: (mentioning a name that we are familiar with)
All children: (commenting about motherβs friend who happened to be a very fashionable woman at that time)
Mother: She said that I should have my hair made curly or at least wavy so I could look different. I said no because I should get permission from your father. But you know her, she was able to convince me to do it.
All children: (laughing and commenting about the lady who spent money like she would die today. Mother said that woman got much money from ex husbands so she deserved to do it.) So, curled or waved?
Mother: Medium curled
Older children: (laughing and commenting how she looked fresh but weird as we had never had anyone with curly hair in the family before)
Mother: When I reached home, your father seeing me with curly hair looked surprised. I thought it would be a terrific moment but then it changed to one terrible day. He was so angry, never before he became that angry.
Older children: Ya, I was shocked. Never saw him like that beforeβ
Mother: I was not shocked with his reaction but the next action of his was a biggest discomfort in my life. He said he wanted to make the hair look better which I thought minor trimming and he took a pair of scissors.
Older children: I didnβt expect that to happen. He cut most of the curly hair and only left the one with very vague curls near the headskin. You were almost bald! (laughing) You became so not you.
Me: (upset) Why didβt you run to hide and protect your hair?
Older children: Hey! Donβt be too serious. He didnβt hurt her.
Me: But he hurt her pride! I wonβt let my hair be screwed up by anyone.
Older children: I remember mother sobbed and I screamed to father to stop. He didnβt do it harshly, but I felt worried about her sobbing.
Me: Damn wrong thing! I never knew he would have this in the checklist.
Mother: No worry. He regretted and apologized on the same day. And trust me it was the only one bad thing he did to me. He said he didnβt want me to draw attention of other men.
Older children: Jeeeaaaalousy! We know some other things about his jealousy! You should tell more stories.
Mother: I think it was the best lesson for him about how he should not be too possessive.
All children: Yaaa!!! Agree!
Older children: Do you remember that you turned to be a better fashionista than her. I remember you wore turban and sometimes wigs.
Mother: Yes. And I guess he regretted it even more as I asked for different wigs and turbans until my hair was good enough to show.
What a comedy! Oops! What a tragedy turning to comedy after some time!
Lesson learnt: choose the best expression of love to avoid bad impression, donβt have your hair curled π, find a husband who doesnβt hate curly hair π, forgive your husbandβs wrong expression while educating him, and see a comedy in a tragedy
Romantic dim light
Sums up through numbers and codes,
Closes down a hope.
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I wish you happiness. π

Good chirp of two birds
Fill the air with random songs
Above golden trees.
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Time flies when we spend it with those we love. How would I not thank this life for giving me abundance of them? Good to have a holiday at home before spending more holidays outdoor faraway from them after this. π
I am blessed. π

Excitement rises.
A dog runs after food bag
Full of dental sticks.
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If you donβt feel good, walk a dog and run with it when it runs for food. Youβll feel a real excitement. Trust me.
Wishing to feel good every single second like a happy dog. π Prepare good saving of energy!

About a nation
Thatβs almost collapsed and dead.
Life has a cycle.
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Holiday is always a time to have a small discussion about trivial facts that grows to a more serious discussion about bigger things like a damaged bridge topic growing to a discussion about a nation that starts to collapse slowly and surely.
Nothing is forever. Even if you think you are better, smarter, swifter and richer; it will end either with your fall or your death whichever comes first. How cruel! No, thatβs just a cycle.

Holiday is sweet,
A flashback to early days
Bringing back good vibes.
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2022βs end of year holiday is traveling around cities where nieces and nephews are located. I love listening to unrecorded histories from the elders and laughing around with the young.
Holiday is worth enjoying before going back to where work is worth dedicating.
Salaam.

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