Not all beauty can be captured by the camera. Do you think this is odd??
That is what I experience whenever I visit Muaro Jambi Temple.
In the heart of a Muslim settlement in Muaro Jambi, there stands a Buddhist temple that is both quiet and graceful. This temple complex covers an area of 4,000 hectares and was once believed to be the largest Buddhist school in Asia. It is likely that students traveled via the river route to reach the temple located on the banks of the Batanghari River.
I have come here several times, and there are progressive changes every time I see it again. The Indonesian government continues to work to rebuild the temple, digging up ruins from the ground and reconstructing under the direction of archaeologists.
This temple is magnificent. However, every time I take its picture, my heart feels despair.
Why?
My camera always fails to capture the temple’s beauty, which is hundreds of times more stunning than what appears in the photo.
The temple complex consists of numerous large and medium-sized temples and many smaller ones. There are 11 main temples, but it is estimated that approximately 82 temple ruins are buried beneath mounds that form small hills.
Yesterday, despite the rain, I visited three temples: Gumpung, Tinggi, and Gedong.
Visitors may need to walk up to 500 meters or more from one temple to another, making it suitable for quiet walks. The area is shaded by large trees and green lawns.
It is still frequently used by Buddhists all over the world who come to participate in significant ceremonies, such as Waisak. This event always attracts many tourists and features a vibrant festival atmosphere.
In my belief, playing the lottery is considered haram. Let me talk about a different and more uplifting topic.
When meeting old friends, the conversation revolves around children, careers, and sharing information about other friends in college or the surrounding environment. For those whose social status is not good, such chats frustrate them. Nothing to tell from their side except the sad and disappointing ones. That is one of the reasons why many people reject reunion parties.
I understand their feeling. Old memories are only good to write about, not to retell, because their influence is not good psychologically. I feel tired after discussing old memories, even though, for others, they might be funny. However, they are different if written down. I can see more clearly from various aspects, learn lessons, and soften my heart.
So, after chatting about family and work, I usually ask what they will do in the future. It is really an interesting topic to explore.
This weekend, I had the pleasure of welcoming two old friends and their families to my home.
My friend, Idy, is working on a concept for a homestay that will be integrated with a poultry farm, focusing on preserving local poultry germplasm. He works as a consultant for a large poultry company in South Sumatra.
Another friend who came the day before, Hen, told me about the community empowerment activities she leads. He is implementing a waste management initiative project integrated with a poultry farm. This activity will contribute significantly to reducing domestic waste, including wasted food, if adopted by the government to be socialized on a large scale.
Reunions like this really leave something exciting and provoke new ideas in my head. I also asked myself, what will I do in the future?
I have such ideals and ambitions; however, they remain discourses. These thoughts are refreshing, beneficial for self-development, and will clearly contribute to the surrounding environment.
How about you? Do you have interesting ambitions for the future (after retiring from working in an office)?
In an interview, the President of Indonesia, Prabowo Subianto, expressed his admiration for the books of Paulo Coelho. Fortunately, I have some of his books and plan to reread them.
One of the books that I keep next to my bed is The Devil and Miss Prym.
Sometimes, books loved by famous figures can spark people’s interest in reading them, too.
Lately, I want to reread my book collection. I have no intention of buying new books. I used to have about 2000 books, and with my sister, I managed a community library. We have donated some books, and I only keep my favorites.
Along with Paulo Coelho’s books, I want to reread novels by Rosamunde Pilcher, who is my favorite novelist.
Ramadhan is coming soon. Muslims are making various preparations so that all the necessities and atmosphere in the household support performing prayers and fasting.
Like many generations that lived in the 1970s, I grew up with a simple lifestyle. Unlike today, when I can easily purchase various necessities for the fasting month—such as basic groceries, instant food, Takjil, and more—during my childhood, most of the cooking and baking for breaking the fast or for Eid was done by my mother, with help from other family members.
One thing that stands out to me as Eid approaches is the hustle and bustle at home as we prepare cookies and traditional foods. My mother was the master and trendsetter for cookies in our neighborhood. Almost all the mothers nearby came over to ask, “What cookies are you planning to make for Eid? Do you have any new recipes? Can I borrow the recipe?” They even borrowed cooking utensils from her.
Nastar, the most popular cookies in Eid (The Lebaran Day)
The aroma of cookies could be smelled in the houses and on the streets, especially a week before Eid. That was the challenging time of fasting for kids. Amid their peak hunger, the smell of baking cakes could make them stop fasting.
In my house, there was a custom that all the children had to help make cakes. At that time, four of us were still in elementary school, and the other 2 were still in kindergarten. So, the 4 older children were the ones who had to help Mom.
My mother would start making the dough in the morning. She wanted the kitchen cleaned first. That was my job. My second younger sibling, Win, and the fourth, Doli, would mold and bake the cakes, while my third younger sibling, Cok, would wash all the equipment.
Mother used all her artistic skills to make cakes. Do you know about Nastar cookies? She molded them exactly like mini pineapples. Dad often told her not to do that.
“Appearance isn’t important. The cake will melt in your mouth in seconds.” He advised. However, my mother ignored him. The cake in the jar should look as good to her as it tasted.
After finishing baking, Cok had to wash all the equipment and plates. However, he often forgot and handed over the task to Doli. I complained to Dad because I felt sorry for Doli. He always replaced Cok’s duties, but it seemed that Dad didn’t care anymore.
Cok was the naughtiest child among us. He preferred to collect all the broken or slightly burnt cakes.
“This is still good for breaking the fast,” he suggested.
Although making cakes was a bit tiring, now I remember it as one of the best moments of my childhood. Through this activity, Mom taught us to work together and instilled cooking tasks were not only for women. The impact was positive. My brothers got used to household chores and now do them in their respective families.
Among my 4 brothers, I really appreciated Doli. He was very responsible in his duties, calm and never complained, and very neat. Before he passed away in 2018, I visited his house. His house was very clean and tidy. In his spare time, he was willing to help his wife clean the house and take care of their children. I think the influence of our parent’s home upbringing has made him a good husband and father.
Cok, the naughty child, has changed a lot. Unexpectedly, he is now a hard worker. Several times, I saw him bathing his children with the patience of a mother.
We once talked about the memories of cooking those Lebaran cakes while laughing. That was the childhood habit that united us, and now, just remembering it makes my heart warm, and missing my siblings.
I hope there will be another chance for us to meet. Maybe at one of our children’s wedding parties. The older I get, the more I miss my siblings.
I once told you that I really like traveling. I think I will do that if I have enough free time.
This week, we in Indonesia are on a long holiday because of the Chinese New Year and Isra Mikraj celebrations, which are national holidays. Since Thursday, I have actually been in Jakarta. I used my time to meet some friends and have a fun chat at a Japanese restaurant.
Me time, chatting with my friends in Jakarta.
In February, I will take leave and plan to visit my youngest son in the neighboring province, Riau, and continue my journey to my birth province in West Sumatra. I will encounter many interesting things on my trip. I’ll tell you, wait, yeah?
If I was at home, I used my time to garden, clean the house, and write. I usually burn aromatherapy fragrances so that our living room becomes more pleasant.
The campaign to not buy clothes for one year is active on social media. I applaud a girl who admits she hasn’t bought new clothes in five years. How strong she is, not tempted to buy new clothes amidst the many promotions for clothes from famous designers and online shops.
I take some time to reflect on myself. At home, I have a cupboard full of clothes. I didn’t realize I had accumulated—pants, shirts, and more. I only wear a small portion of them regularly. The others were purchased because of my consumerist appetite.
I never realized how my buying habits wasted money and the world’s resources. Do you know how many resources are required to produce a single piece of clothing?
Apart from raw materials such as cotton and wool, to make the clothes, you also need electrical energy to drive machines, water to wash, process, and dye materials, labor, and technology. In the production process, air and water pollution will occur around the factory and produce waste.
Indeed, the waste caused by a single person may seem insignificant. But if hundreds of millions of people engage in wasteful practices, the total amount of wasted resources becomes substantial.
I want to change my wasteful habits gradually. I’m not a fashionable person who believes that clothes enhance my beauty. This change is manageable.
What about you? Ready to take on the challenge of not buying clothes for a year?
Kurang tiga jam lagi waktu berbuka akan datang. Bapak belum pulang kantor. Ibu belum mulai masak meski dapur sudah dirapikan sejak tadi. Adik-adikku sudah kembali dari sekolah dan bermain sebentar dengan kawan-kawannya. Mereka tidak ribut seperti biasa. Tunak, rasa lapar menjinakkan mereka.
“Uang belanja habis,” ungkap Ibu semalam. Aku berada di dekat mereka dan menangkap pembicaraan itu.
“Besok Papa cari hutangan di koperasi kantor,” jawab Bapak, pelan tapi sepertinya yakin akan mendapatkannya.
Penghasilan PNS di tahun 80an tak sebaik sekarang. Bapak pegawai tulen, dia tak punya sumber pendapatan lain. Ibu stay di rumah mengurus keenam anaknya. Pernah sih Ibu buka warung kecil-kecilan, dibantu oleh Tulang (adik laki-laki Ibu) namun tak bertahan lama. Jajanan di warung lebih banyak kami yang makan. Uangnya tak ketemu.
Aku gak bakalan cerita betapa ideal dan penuh tanggung jawabnya orangtuaku. Kalian pasti akan berhenti membaca tulisan Kenangan Ramadhanku ini. Dunia ini tak semanis dan sebosan itu, kan?
Bapak akhirnya pulang. Dia membawa ikan mas. Wajahnya cerah meski lelah. Di usiaku yang belum 15 tahun, aku mulai paham masalah keuangan yang dihadapi orangtuaku. Bapak membeli ikan itu dari uang hutang.
Setelah aku dewasa dan menikah, aku pernah bertanya dalam hati, mengapa Bapak membeli ikan emas untuk makan malam kami? Mengapa tidak ikan asin/teri, atau ikan laut yang harganya jauh lebih murah? Bapak boros, dia tak harusnya memaksakan diri membeli sesuatu yang di luar kemampuannya.
Namun aku diingatkan sifat Bapak yang penyayang. Bapak ingin anak-anaknya bergembira saat berbuka. Rasa lapar anak-anaknya yang terpuaskan waktu berbuka adalah kebahagiaannya. Lewat puasa, Islam mengajarkan umatnya berempati terhadap orang miskin, agar mengenal Allah lebih dekat, dan menguatkan relasi antara penderitaan fisik yang akan bernilai ibadah selama dijalani dengan ikhlas, Bapak milih mengajarkan puasa dengan cara lembut dan membujuk. Anak-anaknya waktu itu baru berusia 15, 14, 12, 11 tahun, dan dua balita.
Selesai magrib, makan malam dan beberes sisa makanan, kami dilepas ke masjid untuk taraweh. Aku menyukai tarawih namun belum dilandasi taqwa. Aku suka karena di masjid aku dapat wawasan dan kenalan baru.
Suasana malam selama bulan Ramadhan jauh lebih hidup. Aku melalui warung dan toko yang penuh barang rumah tangga dan makanan. Aku bertemu kawan-kawan mengaji dan sekolah yang bersemi cantik dan ganteng, suka bersolek dan mudah senyum, karena sadar sedang diamati remaja lainnya.
Di pojok masjid, jika tirai pembatas saf laki-laki dan perempuan dibuka, aku bisa melihat dan mengamati wajah-wajah jamaah laki-laki muda dan tua, menyimak ekspresi mereka dan mereka-reka rumah mereka itu yang sebelah mana ya?
Ada proses berpikir yang mengalir di kepalaku saat itu. Berpikir, mengingat, dan mengaitkan satu dengan yang lain. Kegiatan olah pikir yang sulit dijelaskan tapi itu asik. Mungkin itu awal dari kesukaanku mengamati dan menuangkan gagasan ke dalam tulisan.
Sholat tarawih ke masjid seharusnya tak dilakukan anak-anak tanpa didamping orangtuanya. Ketiga adik laki-lakiku berangkat masing-masing, Bapak juga pergi sendirian. Itu jamak juga di keluarga lain. Aku lebih sering berangkat bersama Ibu, sekali-sekali diajak oleh tetanggaku sebaya.
Mengapa harus didampingi? Kenakalan remaja sebagian tumbuh dari malam-malam tarawih itu. Remaja laki-laki mulai merokok dan menggoda remaja perempuan yang melintas. Sebagian sih niatnya masih benar, ikut sholat sampai rakaat akhir. Namun lebih banyak yang duduk di sekitar masjid, berebut job parkiran sandal, atau pura-pura sholat di ujung rakaat.
Untunglah aku tak menyalahgunakan malam tarawih untuk kesenangan-kesenangan picisan. Meski kadang diajak oleh kakak-kakak tetangga yang sudah pintar besolek, obrolan mereka gres dan tawanya renyah, namun lebih nyaman bersama Ibuku yang ibadahnya khusu’.
Ramadhan mendekatkan aku dan Ibuku. Pertengkaran Ibu dan anak perempuannya yang konon meningkat di saat anak masuk usia remaja, tak terjadi pada kami. Aku dikawal, namun diberi keleluasaan memilih caraku menuju sholeha dan berilmu. Syarat kerasnya, tak boleh genit.
“Kasihan Papamu. Orang-orang akan membicarakannya jika melihatmu bergenit-genit di luar,” nasehatnya yang sangat aku ingat. Aku menyayangi Bapak. Aku Boru Panggoaran-nya. Nasehat Ibu whoosh, langsung menancap ke hatiku.
Bagaimana dengan adik laki-lakiku? Mereka tengah berjuang untuk memperbaiki kehidupan dan keimanannya masing-masing. Jalan mereka cukup terjal. Teruslah berjuang, adik-adikku.
Hey guys. Have you ever tried a new habit that made you feel better instantly?
I just experienced it, and I feel blessed.
Recently, I have been developing a new routine of taking a shower shortly after waking up. I shower right away (around 4 am) and then take wudu for the morning prayer.
After doing this routine for a few weeks, I feel a change in my spirit. The burden unconsciously carried in my sleep seems to disappear, and I am ready to welcome the new day.
I don’t mean to imply that this routine will work for everyone. But we should refresh ourselves by trying out or embracing new activities that resonate with us. There is a wealth of information available that can help us choose what might be a good fit.
Actually, previously, I was a conventional woman in general. I did the same routine for years. Until one day, I felt very bored and wanted to quit my job.
Alhamdulillah, I didn’t make that decision. (I still need money, hahaha). Instead, I took several online courses, including making herbal soap, environmental educator courses, registering to write an anthology book, etc.
After adopting a new routine of taking a shower early in the morning, I feel fresher and calmer.
Guys, have you thought about doing new things lately?
I would love it if you would share your experiences.
I once asked my late mother what my first name, Asnelly, meant. She said she didn’t know.
Your father came home one day and said his first child would be named Asnelly. He was sure a baby girl would be born, not a baby boy.
I was my father’s favorite child. I remember the moments we spent together to and from school. He bought me a cute bag and cookies for my lunch box. He took me to the beach to walk on the sand and listened to stories about my activities at school.
The name Asnelly is rare, unlike Rini, Dewi, or Siti, which are very common in my city. But I like my name. It’s a beautiful and soft name. My last name, Daulay, adds to its uniqueness.
Thanks to the advancement of search engines. When I checked the meaning of the name, I felt that it fit my personality quite well.
She (Asnelly) tends to lead with authority and is always looking for adventure. She is very interested in life and has an independent nature. This person also speaks frankly and is physically attracted to others.
The name is a prayer. Hopefully, the good things in the meaning of my name will come true.
Hmm, sounds idealistic, huh? Why is that? A dream job refers to someone’s interest, which may not be available unless one creates the job for himself.
A person may think he only accepts work that gives him a comfortable salary and benefits, a pleasant working atmosphere, a job that suits his skills and interests, and open opportunities for promotion.
However, in real life, that work may only meet one or two conditions; the rest are far from ideal.
In such a situation, many people persist and continue working because they need money to survive. Whatever happens, as long as it does not endanger his life, he will accept it.
Do I have a dream job? No. I stopped looking for it years ago.
If you still have your dream job, listen to me. Make as much money as you can now, then start your dream job with the money you earned from your previous job. Don’t forget to mentally prepare yourself for the worst that could happen.
Otherwise, you or your spouse and children may not be happy with that dream job.
my thoughts on the environment, travel and life reflections 