::: bisa jadi ini cuma lagu lama yang tiba-tiba terdengar syahdu hanya karena di luar sedang gerimis dan rintiknya memukuli kaca jendela—juga hatiku..
(juga kenangan tentangmu: 4 tahun yang lalu)
"The death of the party/ Came as no surprise/ Why did we bother?/ Should have stayed away
Another night/ And I thought "Well, well.."/ Go to another party and hang myself/ Gently on the shelf.."
- Death Of a Party, Blur, 1997.
Bada, how’s Neverland? You meet Nirmala?
You said her mood that day was what?
Normal. Cheerful. Typically cheerful.
Yeah, right. So after a typically cheerful day with her typically cheerful boyfriend, she waits until he leaves the house and then puts two bullets in her own head.
Two fahkkin bullets. That surprises you?
Yes. Doesn't it surprise you, Mr. Know-It-All?
Haec est corpus. This is the body:
—Ini bukan scene dengan setting kamar mayat, sebab saya masih betah di kamar saya yang gerah. Tapi toh dia benar-benar di sana.
Dan mati. Ya. M-A-T-I. Pulp once sang, "...if we get through this alive, i'll meet you next week, same place, same time..." Too bad we didn't. We never made it. We never got through this.. alive.
At the funeral, no color guard, no twenty-one-gun salute, no bagpipes. There we all stood, with our dropped eyes and our shared defeat. We faced the grave, motionless, like painted wood. I looked again towards the sky, as the raindrops mixed with the tears I cried. And I imagined something happened: a woman fell out of a dark blue sky. She's an angel.
"Earth, receive the strangest guest."
* * *
in memoriam: NML. (1980-2001), ketika hari tak henti-hentinya berlari, ngaso-mu abadi...