A lost Zebra in a Herd

One of the things that you have to do in life is to adapt. You come in to a new school you adapt, new office you adapt, new house, meet new people and so on and so forth. However, sometimes you just feel things don’t work. If things just don’t work as YOU plan or hope or feel should you just give up or keep on trying to adapt until you fit for some of it?

For me one of the though thing in adapting issue form is to check list couldn't adapt in my new home. It felt weird sometimes. You live in a house. You live there let’s say with your friends, 5 or maybe 2 of your friends. You get a long in live. You get a long pretty well. But when you live together in a house you see more of them. You knew them more than you used too. You observed their habits. You tried to learn their likes, their dislikes. You observe more how they dress, how they react, how they tend to answer your thoughts and so on. But, there are times when things seem not clicking. Then I started to wonder, should we just give up? Or just suck it all in? Or just hope for the best that things will work out someday?

For me home have to be a home. By the meaning home is that you feel comfortable and you can't wait to come in to the place you called home when you are outside. Anywhere it is, when you have your own area and you live in it has to feel like home. In one way you want to act like yourself in your own house, do the things that you just enjoy at a place you called home.

I know it sounds selfish, I live with others who probably have their own problems with this home not being a home for them as well. But somehow I could see them act like they do love to be in the house. They gave the relieve look as they came through our front door. Why could they manage and I just could not?

It seems my friends manage to do what they like to do in the house. I see them managing to find what they love in the house. Somehow for me, I find it hard to find my “comfort zone”. I felt guilty sometimes to stay in my room the whole day. I felt guilty when I didn’t have a chance to clean the house or even cook before my roommates come. Then I ask myself, is it me?

Sometimes I feel like a drop of oil in a bottle of water. I just don’t mix, the conversation and all seems to be clashing and collapsing all over the place. If I could just see my home as a bowl of salad, me and my friends will be a great mix just need to add salt and pepper we will live happily ever after (supposedly). But for me, i see it as if we are in a relationship and we are living together we will be separating things by now. But then again I realize, it’s not about my friends whom I living with. It’s me and myself trying to feel comfortable.

Now I see my self as a person who can’t live in a group in the same time I can’t be out of the group. If I live in a herd of zebras I prefer to be in the back line instead of in the middle of the herd or not even in the front-line to lead. I will love to have the companion, in the same time I don’t want to be followed or observed from the back. I prefer I am the one who observing without being bothered that someone is following or will be complaining. But, if I ever will be a lost zebra I don’t think I’ll manage for it. 

I ask my self what do I want? is it that difficult to adapt? Or am I seeing things far too complicated? How do I make home a sweet home?

Dark Blank Canvas

I am not a person who could easily adapt. I am not a person who could easily feel comfortable.  I am not a person who is competitive. I am a person who used into hiding. I am not a brave person. I am neither intelligent nor talented. I am not an extrovert. I am neither independent nor could live in a group. I am a blank dark canvas.

My words are as complicated as a riddle. My thoughts are as difficult as a puzzle.  I hope that complicated thing could give me at least another dark color on me, but yet I still look at the mirror as a blank dark canvas. I started to wonder, how to put at least one color at such a dark canvas. I would put white on me, as there is no other color in the world could be used. But then again white is not a color. It is another blank thing to cover my dark color. I ask my self yet again, could I start to wear a white mask just to put color on me? No, I don’t want to wear a blank mask on me.I am searching a real color to be painted on me. Then again, I am blank as it is. I am complicated as it is.

People always say that our life is not as complicated as it is. That there are many people’s life more complicated than ours. But for me those terms just don’t help. I know it should have. Sometimes that kind of force of term made my color faded. Sometimes we need another kind of support. Sometimes we need someone else's understanding just to find a new color in life. 

I love my life in one way, but somehow the other part is just not as beautiful as you expect. Yes life is never that perfect, but don’t you just ever ask how can you reach at least close to perfect?

 

 

do you have the respect?

You went to a restaurant. A servant comes to you and ask you nicely what would you like to order. You give your order and all. Your food came after half hour waiting and you started to complain. You even gave the stare to the servant that is delivering your orders. They apologize for the late coming. but then again you complain and you avoid for coming back to the restaurant and decided not to give them the extra tips. Do you think that is a wise thing to do?

I am sorry after i think and think about it i have to say that is a bad thing to do. do you think that being a chef and a waiter is easy? do you think that they do it on purpose? Do you think that because you have the money and you pay for the food you can act like that? it is not like they throw the food on top of the table. 

what is the different with you buying all the ingredients and you waited for your friend to cook from scratch and it needs 2 hours to cook. are you gonna give them the stare too? it is the food that you pay and someone else cooks for you and serve it for you so what is the difference? are you gonna complain too? just because the waiter or chef is not your friend are you gonna treat them as they are not human beings that tried to make you happy? 

Sometimes being a nice person is not enough. Sometimes being a patient person is not enough. Sometimes being a smart person is not enough. Sometimes being a rich person is not enough.

Life. Being patient is not enough when there is no one that supports your back as you are supporting people around you. Being nice is not enough when there is no one that appreciates such nice things you have done for them. Being smart is not enough when people don’t appreciate what you have invented, nor the information you gave others. Being smart is not enough when people ask you and you act like you knew everything and you see people, as they are so stupid and low cause they just don’t know what you know. Being a rich person is not enough when you cannot spend your money for the people who needs it and for those people actually support you and you see them for granted. Most people are blind for what other people have done for them, especially those that are not your family members. Sometimes we see things that are far than the ones that are right in front of your nose.

Are you those people? Do you feel like you are forgetting some people in your life that is being nice to you and you treat them for granted? Do you feel like you are one of those success people, smart and all and you see other people that is close to you for granted?

THE FIRST LADY

Almost a month ago my friend was in an interview, when one of the interviewers asked her if you would have a dinner later today in a fancy restaurant, whom would you like to have dinner with?

Who will be your answer? Whose name you would say? Who will be the first person cross your mind?

There are many question in the world that have to do with who/whom that you think or feel give effects to your life.

Another example of questions; If you would ask me who do you want to be or even the question who you adore the most, I will answer in the matter of second, MY MOM.

My mom may not be a sexy actress, or any famous people that change or have an effect to the world and the human being that live in it.  

But, she did raise two of the world citizen that will grow and turn to be someone. There is no trophies back at home that stated she is the best mom in the world that made a change. But, she is the best mom and made changes in my world. 

She is the one I can depend on anytime in my life for more than 20 years of my life, even I am million miles away from her. She is the lady who made my world spins when it stops.

She listen and help me solve my problems, she made arguments that slaps your face, which when you heard it you just break down and cry and made you realize that life is not just that. She is the lady that support me that teach me that you don’t have to change the world by doing something big, you can even change anything with something simple, small or even a smile. She is the lady that made jokes and make you smile when you frown. Everyone is proud and loves his or her mother that is for sure.

 But, if you ask me again:

Who do I want to be, who do I love the most and who I adore the most? My answer is I want to be my mother; I love and adore her the most. She may not be the first lady in any country, but she is the first lady in my heart.

Journey from 3 to 2..

This story is about 3 girls who grew up together. They were cousins, they were sisters, and they were best friends. Those three girls are Riana Yulianti, Nina A. Anissa and Amanta Shakina. They were really close. As cousins they were not that different in age. Riana the oldest among the 3 was born in 1983 as for Nina and Amanta they were born in 1984. They always go everywhere together every time they could; they share stories, games, gossip, love, hug and tears with each other. Even the whole family was aware of their closeness and it was proved by their grandmother always made them 3 same dresses when they were kids.

Riana Yulianti, She love cats. She lives not far from Amanta house. She was a strong girl, she was wise, and she was brave. She was caring, she was fun, and she was funny. She had many colors in life and she shares those colors of her to everyone’s that are around her, close to her.

Nina, she love to play softball and she is good at it. She grew up in Jakarta and then she move to Bandung when she got into college. She is the tomboy and sporty when they were young. She is the independent one. She is the one that is patient. She loves to draw, she is the creative one.  She is the sweet one, she is the one that gave comfort.

The youngest one was Amanta and that is me. 

This short story is about us, where our life of sisterhood dramatically change. This is the story where 3 could change into 2.

As we grew older, we started to build our own lives. But somehow, we always tried to spare a day or two or anytime we could, just to share what we had done, what we had experience. Stories about clothes, cartoons and games turns to young girls gossip about friends and boys.

One night when I was in High school, the phone at my house started to rang. A dark cloud filled my night as my aunt on the other side of the line told me that my cousin, Riana had an accident and she was laying unconscious in the hospital. Time passes by and she was ok. She went home and tried to live her life as normal as she could. Somehow her body turns weak. She got easily ill most of her times. Until almost a year ago my mom told me that she was laying again unconscious in the hospital. I believed she is a strong girl, which hopes she will be Ok and she was.

I went back to Indonesia in November 2007 for 2 weeks. The 3 of us were reunited for a short time; It was one lovely evening on 17^th of November 2007. It was fun. We met again after 1 whole year living in different continents and usually  shared our stories through e-mails. By that night  it was face to face, it was lovely. Never thought that night was the last night we laugh with each other.

I had to leave for Holland again after those 2 short weeks. Times flies, we haven’t spoken with each other since that November night. It was cold January. The time showed 4 A.M in Holland when I was half asleep and my cell phone started to ring.  As I said hello, it was my mother on the other side of the line. It was a blackout, it was a pause and it was an unbelievable sentence as I heard my mom share me words by words, my dear Riana, my dear sister has passed away.

My tears started to fall as I was pulling my self out of the shock and tried to ask my mom again and again for what she had said was true. My mom was assuring me again and again with patient leading me to face the reality. As I hung up the phone, all I can do was cry. I felt crushed and lonely. Suddenly it felt like oxygen was a rare thing. I feel sad that I was not there beside her, holding her hands and tell her that everything will be fine as she was fighting for her life. Sadly I was not there beside her as she left. Sadly I was not there with my family and sadly I was not there to see her for one last time. She had left.

My mind started to fly far to the past. The whole family trips, the laughter, the stories, the pranks, The fight, the arguments, the jokes, the games, the love, the tears, the hug, the memories and all the sisterhood treasure that we have.

It had been months since she passed away. It had been months since I want to write this story in words. But I never had the strength to type this story; I never have the strength to hold my tears when I see our pictures together. The sadness still chocked me. But it couldn't be ignored, it has to be faced. She was young and she is not around. Apparently age couldn't be hold as a guarantee in live. I never could believe that someone close to me could leave the earth in such a young age. I always believe that god will give me many chances to be with my cousins, brothers and sisters. But apparently it is something I should face. It is one from all of my greatest fear.

Until now, sometimes I still couldn't believe that 3 for 23 years all of the sudden turned into 2. But, sometimes you have to learn to let go for we know and hope that this is for the best.

 

Goodbye our beloved sister, you will always be love and miss. For we will always pray that you have the best place in heaven.