Paku’s grandfather Tjipto’s having ceased to be a pirate, dozes now in retirement on the beach Buyat Bay while offshore the scientific ship takes core samples
the fish have gone away, the water spoiled by mind tailings, even household cats gone crazy
twenty of them that day boarded the Alondra Rainbow outside of Kuala Tanjung (1999), ten in the fast boat, Tjipto among them, ten more joining after they captured the ship and tied up the master and his crew
Paku wants to know how it was, imagines Disney DVD, X marks the spot, pirate map, John Depp and mainsails billowing
the fish have gone away, the water spoiled by mind tailings, even household cats gone crazy
twenty of them that day boarded the Alondra Rainbow outside of Kuala Tanjung (1999), ten in the fast boat, Tjipto among them, ten more joining after they captured the ship and tied up the master and his crew
Paku wants to know how it was, imagines Disney DVD, X marks the spot, pirate map, John Depp and mainsails billowing
the second ten remain in the Mumbai penitentiary, Tjipto and his comrades turning back in the speedboat after offloading the crew and half the aluminum ingots to the second tanker, fast boat guys top label, cream of the crop, AK47 and percussion grenades, no knife but still plenty Silat, thank you (the Alondra Rainbow repainted and bound for Fujeira, Saudi Arabia when intercepted by the Indian navy)
would be his last time out
Please, kakek? Paku pleads
“Sudah makan banyak garam, adik, sudah bijaksana.” Tjipto declares, enough salt makes wisdom, a sailor’s saying (gesturing lazily toward the bay) there, the future is there, the scientific boat, go to university, Institut Teknologi Bandung, study oceanography, mendayung antara dua karang, steer between the rocks, drink Johnnie Walker Black, not kill your brain with Arak
Tuak + Coke = Paku’s drink
“habis manis sepah dibuang,” Tjipto mutters, “when it’s no longer sweet, throw it away”
he means everything
adik believes nothing of course, it is the way of the world, he wants an iPod, halfway believes his grandfather could swim out and snatch him one from the science ship
Tjipto lights a Marlboro but refuses to give the boy one so Paku pulls out his own pack of Djurum and lights one, the clove smell good to the old man and so they trade
not so old really but three bullets still in his wiry body, knife scars on one cheek and both arms, bone fragments floating in his swollen knee years now since it was crushed by a crowbar, shooting the face off the mate who swung it, another time Nyi Roro Kidul, the sea goddess, pulling him by his hair from the depths of the sea just as he had drown and was walking the streets of heaven squinting at the radiant light
Sorgaloka
there is no heaven, here is heaven
upon a mat of Medong grass on a dead beach Tjipto reclines, Paku squatting beside and studying the horizon, their smoke intertwining on the breezeless afternoon
Ayahku adalah pensiunan pegawai negri, my dad’s a retired civil servant, Puku’s mother tells neighbors
true enough, Menurut cerita orang-orang, banyak perompak bermukim di Sukarno, even the president surrounded by pirates
the boy waits, with the fish gone even the birds have left, all that remains of the future now omong kosong (empty talk)
“Tapi, sore esoknya aku sudah lagi…” Tjipto sighs (there again late in the day)
the old pirate dreams of Kebon Manggu, garden of mangoes, Sorgaloka, paradise
Nyi Roro Kidul fragrant as ylang-ylang when she pulled him from the sea, her soft breasts against his shoulder as she swam
on a high stool at the circulation desk the American surveys god’s creation, former Jesuit, Desert Father sine prole supersite, i.e., without issue
that somewhere in the reeds a child is born to change the world struck the librarian, irreligious otherwise, as extraordinary
despite the cliché his true religion, frankly, categorization, the rightness of things, e.g. “If the distance between eternity and non-eternity is greater than that between the various species, how then is it possible to apply a judgment about the opposite extremes of the empirical world and the invisible?” (Ibn Rushd known as Averroé)
ethics (and aesthetics) indexical: what belongs where, and how it is (re)called
drawn to this desert city as much seeking the distinction between Averroé’s ayat muhkamat and ayat mutashabihat—the unambiguous and its contrary—as he was (to the dismay of his family and, respectively, the Society of Jesus and of Friends) out of devotion to good works
not unconscious that the former pursuit perhaps subsumes the latter
12/13/01 “wayward Israeli rocket” strikes Ramallah Friends School
terrorism or self-defense
would be his last time out
Please, kakek? Paku pleads
“Sudah makan banyak garam, adik, sudah bijaksana.” Tjipto declares, enough salt makes wisdom, a sailor’s saying (gesturing lazily toward the bay) there, the future is there, the scientific boat, go to university, Institut Teknologi Bandung, study oceanography, mendayung antara dua karang, steer between the rocks, drink Johnnie Walker Black, not kill your brain with Arak
Tuak + Coke = Paku’s drink
“habis manis sepah dibuang,” Tjipto mutters, “when it’s no longer sweet, throw it away”
he means everything
adik believes nothing of course, it is the way of the world, he wants an iPod, halfway believes his grandfather could swim out and snatch him one from the science ship
Tjipto lights a Marlboro but refuses to give the boy one so Paku pulls out his own pack of Djurum and lights one, the clove smell good to the old man and so they trade
not so old really but three bullets still in his wiry body, knife scars on one cheek and both arms, bone fragments floating in his swollen knee years now since it was crushed by a crowbar, shooting the face off the mate who swung it, another time Nyi Roro Kidul, the sea goddess, pulling him by his hair from the depths of the sea just as he had drown and was walking the streets of heaven squinting at the radiant light
Sorgaloka
there is no heaven, here is heaven
upon a mat of Medong grass on a dead beach Tjipto reclines, Paku squatting beside and studying the horizon, their smoke intertwining on the breezeless afternoon
Ayahku adalah pensiunan pegawai negri, my dad’s a retired civil servant, Puku’s mother tells neighbors
true enough, Menurut cerita orang-orang, banyak perompak bermukim di Sukarno, even the president surrounded by pirates
the boy waits, with the fish gone even the birds have left, all that remains of the future now omong kosong (empty talk)
“Tapi, sore esoknya aku sudah lagi…” Tjipto sighs (there again late in the day)
the old pirate dreams of Kebon Manggu, garden of mangoes, Sorgaloka, paradise
Nyi Roro Kidul fragrant as ylang-ylang when she pulled him from the sea, her soft breasts against his shoulder as she swam
on a high stool at the circulation desk the American surveys god’s creation, former Jesuit, Desert Father sine prole supersite, i.e., without issue
that somewhere in the reeds a child is born to change the world struck the librarian, irreligious otherwise, as extraordinary
despite the cliché his true religion, frankly, categorization, the rightness of things, e.g. “If the distance between eternity and non-eternity is greater than that between the various species, how then is it possible to apply a judgment about the opposite extremes of the empirical world and the invisible?” (Ibn Rushd known as Averroé)
ethics (and aesthetics) indexical: what belongs where, and how it is (re)called
drawn to this desert city as much seeking the distinction between Averroé’s ayat muhkamat and ayat mutashabihat—the unambiguous and its contrary—as he was (to the dismay of his family and, respectively, the Society of Jesus and of Friends) out of devotion to good works
not unconscious that the former pursuit perhaps subsumes the latter
12/13/01 “wayward Israeli rocket” strikes Ramallah Friends School
terrorism or self-defense
LAST