The pressure of my studies had reached a boiling point, leaving me completely saturated and exhausted. Inside, my room felt stiflingly hot and suffocating, as if the very air refused to move. Craving a breath of fresh air and a moment of escape, I stepped outside and headed toward the mosque's courtyard to clear my head by watching the local kids play soccer.
To my surprise, Aryati was already there.
We ended up sitting together, chatting idly about everything and nothing at all. As the afternoon waned and it was time to head home, Aryati looked at me and said softly, "Ameng atuh Kang ka bumi" (Come over to my house sometime, Brother).
A rush of joy surged through me. It was the perfect alignment of desire and opportunity—like a falling leaf landing right into waiting hands (pucuk dicinta ulam tiba).
I wasn't about to let this chance slip away. That very evening, I found myself standing at her doorstep.
In that moment, my soul seemed to break free from the constraints of time and space. Before I knew it, I was walking side by side with Aryati under a gentle, whispering drizzle. I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, a pure and sweet bliss as our hands gently locked together, walking through the cool Bandung air.
Yet, amidst the joy, a cynical shadow crept into my mind. A quiet intuition whispered that Aryati and I were never meant to be. My true destiny, I thought, lay with a woman from another city.
A whole year slipped by, and a deep longing took hold of me. I wanted nothing more than to recreate that magical walk with Aryati, to live that moment just as we had a year ago. As this scene played out in my memory, the bittersweet strains of a familiar melody seemed to echo through the air—Sepanjang Jalan Kenangan (All Along the Memory Lane).
All Along the Memory Lane
I intentionally came to your city It has been such a long time since we last met How I long to recreate the past To walk together just like yesteryear
All along the lane of memories, we always held hands All along the lane of memories, you held me so tight and tender The drizzling rain at the beginning of that month Only added to the bliss of that beautiful, enchanting night
Even though I am now with someone else And your life is no different either Yet the memories all along that lane Will never truly fade from my mind...
From that day on, I began to formally court Aryati. However, our "dates" followed a strange, repetitive routine. Every time I came to visit, Aryati would only greet me, shake my hand, and then immediately retreat back into her bedroom, leaving me outside.
This went on for an entire year.
During that year of courting Aryati, a profound sense of boredom and emptiness began to gnaw at me. She never actually stayed to keep me company. I was left to romance nothing but her ghost, sitting in the living room accompanied only by her father, who was always preoccupied, quietly measuring and preparing fabric to be stitched the next day.
I realized then that what I felt was merely "Puppy Love." I was like a monkey holding a fruit in its left hand, eyes greedily locked onto the fruit in its right, still unsatisfied even while its feet clutched even more food. I felt that simply being with Aryati was no longer enough. To break the suffocating monotony of my days, I needed the company of another beautiful girl.
Chapter 2: Stolen Heart by the Princess of Solo
My restless feet guided me toward the West. As I passed a certain house, I froze in my tracks. There, right in front of me, was an incredibly beautiful girl.
I had known her since we were children, but back then, she was completely ordinary—someone who easily blended into the background. I never could have anticipated that Atit Wibawati—that was her full name—would blossom into such a breathtakingly elegant woman. Right then and there, her grace stole my heart completely.
Her slender, striking figure and poised demeanor instantly reminded me of the world's reigning top model of the era: Twiggy.
Determined to pursue her, I wanted to elevate our chance encounter into a serious relationship. However, a cultural wall stood between us; we came from entirely different worlds. I was a pure, traditional Sundanese boy, while the "Princess of Solo" was rooted deeply in Javanese tradition—both of her parents hailed directly from Solo.
Hoping to navigate this unfamiliar territory, I decided to seek out Iyam, her childhood best friend, to gather some accurate insights about Atit.
I staked out a spot and waited for Iyam to return from school. Before long, she appeared down the street. As she approached, she only spared me a fleeting glance before slipping quickly into her house. The exact same thing happened the following day.
On the third day, I refused to just stand by. Taking the initiative, I stepped forward to greet her.
But before I could even speak, Iyam blindsided me with a sharp rebuff: "Iyam mah alim ka Kang Udjang. Kang Udjang mah Play Boy. Pertama ka Ikah teras ka Rosita teu lami ti dinya ka Aryati." (I don't want anything to do with you, Brother Ujang. You're a total Playboy! First it was Ikah, then Rosita, and not long after that, Aryati!)
I stood there, completely dumbfounded. I had no idea where she had picked up such wild, misleading gossip. It turned out she thought I was trying to hit on her, when in reality, I was just desperate to find out more about Atit Wibawati. Realizing the diplomatic route was compromised, I decided to cast caution to the wind and approach the Princess of Solo directly.
I carefully plotted my strategy. I would confess my feelings through the language of poetry—a romantic piece crafted entirely by my own hand.
I meticulously structured the poem as an acrostic. The very first letter of each line was anchored to the letters of her name. If someone were to read the starting letters vertically from top to bottom, it would spell out: A-T-I-T W-I-B-A-W-A-T-I.
Decades have washed away the exact lines of that poem from my memory. Only one single sentence remains etched in my mind: "Tjintailah aku sedikit tapi abadi" (Love me little, but love me forever). The first letter of that unforgettable line was set against the old spelling of her name's initial, 'Tj'—which we know today simply as 'C'.
And as I embarked on this poetic gamble, the ambient sounds of my youth seemed to fade into the chords of a deeply emotional song—Puisi (Poetry).
Poetry (By Jikustik)
I, whom you once made strong I, whom you once lifted up I, to whom you gave a beautiful feeling From the moment I wake until I drift to sleep For as long as I live, I will always remember you
When will I ever again Write for you my beautiful words? The ones that used to color My beautiful world of poetry, solely for you Is it possible that you will return To accompany me and write once more? Together, we shall sail through My most beautiful poetry, meant only for you...
now how to do PDKT to Puteri Solo. The problem is that Sim Kuring is not ready to step back. In addition, the verse of Revolution enters Sim Kuring's soul, namely: "Never Retreat, ever on ward, Forward, never back down. There it is!
That night the writer wrote a poem which was shown for Putri Solo. Starting from the first sentence to the last, only the first letter, from top to bottom, will read ATIT WIBAWATI.
Sim Kuring only remembers one sentence, namely: "Tell me a little but immortal (Tj is C) Sim Kuring handed the poem to his younger brother, Tita.
The moment he had been waiting for arrived Sim Kuring wanted to know the reaction he had received the poem. Sim Kuring visited his house, he happened to be there. He accepts the Curing Sim and starts chatting. This makes SIm Kuring's heart relieved.
Only one writer amazes, the romance is so-so. There was no sign that he had accepted Sim Kuring's poetry, no reaction. In the middle of the chat, Tita appeared, and said "Kang Ujang's poetry was shredded by Mba Atit" "Tita!" Atit snapped.
That's enough. Already, my heart feels torn. It didn't take long for the Kuring Sim to leave.
It was a long time before we met until approximately 6 months later, at the official event of the Tarka Rw 04 meeting, as usual, Sim Kuring came on time. As time went by, one by one came. Finally he came with Iyam. She looked so beautiful she glanced at Sim Kuing. The heart of Sm Curing is degrading.
She whispers to Iyam, but the voice is clear. "There are school children, there are school children" Sim Kuring was confused, what it meant, and to whom. All of them are school children. Reducing confusion, Sim Kuring asked the next door "Eta Atit nyarios school children naon mean, jeung kasaha?" "Kang Ujang anu hiji-hiji na ngangge Sakola uniform, he replied."
Suddenly, when you can see your own face, your face will feel red, then turn pale. Wearing school uniforms in the official ceremony of teu ilahar jeung batur.
Not without reason, because school uniforms are the only good clothes. Another pair of trousers that Sim Kuring has is his father's old trousers that are turned down and his knees are pulled down because they are torn.
Besides, the authors are grateful for the incident, because it is not impossible that the invitees will wear school uniforms.
N Si, that was the last meeting with Puteri solo.
One day Anes is looking for Sim Kuring, whose full name is Cornelis. He was feared for his bravery, even though he was the same stature as Sim Kuring 12-12. There is something that makes them afraid, namely when other people hunt chickens he hunts RW (wild dogs), and lir cats for roasting. If RW is still divine, many Batak people like it. This is a cat. How delicious cat roasts taste sour, refreshing.
Meanwhile his skull was made into a necklace. So that was what scared everyone. Likewise Sim Kuring, even though he has been looking for the possibility of making mistakes. But, impossible.
After meeting, without shaking hands, he said: "Jang, Anes is wrong, Ujang. Anes ngaheureuyan a sakola slave, ari pek the ngakuna ka bogoh Ujang "
It must be SI Mata belo. "Oh, that's it Nes! It must be Eta's slave to the Yeti. I really did. Geus tilu years of relationship "" Enya Sakali deui Anes menta hampura. Moal Sakali- times deui. "
"In hampura Nes!" Kuring feels proud, two men are not just kksir, one from a rich family, and one Anes Jeger genk perlon (Most delicious is Nonok), where Karees' children join them. So the influence of alcohol and drugs is the influence of the Perlon gang. And Anes is the main supplier and distributor.
Three years have passed. Sim Kuring's weekly night Apple is accompanied by her father who is busy working, preparing the next day's stitches. We only met when serving a cup of clear water. Then talk to yourself. Meet again at nine in the evening goodbye time. So there is a desire to walk together.
At that time, Sim Kuring, class 2, Faculty of Economics, Unpad, Manehna, class 2 of SMP PGRI. One day Sim Kuring invited him to watch a movie for the coming Saturday night. Watching was Sim Curing's first hobby. Babah ngamuk (Silat / Kungfu) film fanatic. After being replaced by western films, hard films, war films less liked. The most popular are mafia films. At that time it was a western film.
He agreed. The time came, Sim Kuring came to his house, it turned out that he was sleeping. Sim Kuring was disappointed. Because one of the lectures is to wake a sleeping person. On the other hand, if someone else comes, wake it up, in case it has a significant degree of clarity.
So when this issue was raised in front of the family, the youngest Fauzan commented, "Wow, it's dangerous, sir. Kuhama seagrass Imah kahuruan, while my family is sleeping, "said the youngest. While his brother just grinned.
"Yes, I don't care, Zan, you must be ngahudangkeun sarere. "Etalah Sim Kuring's way of explaining the prayers of those who believe that come. "Very good, Aji miaga, sir. Aji ayeuna hoyong naon "" Don't do that jan, just pray "said his pious brother.
Finally I came home with a deep heart, Shadow Indah was a mess. A few days later there was information from his brother, that he was actually awake. But the information was too late, unable to get rid of the disappointment.
An important moment arrived, namely the birthday of Tarka RW 04.