On Life

On Life

Currently, I spend more of my time on the road rather than on the actual working. It is actually better, though, since I could have wasted more time on the road if I had worked at one of the companies or institutions that I applied before. Anyway, I am used to it.

Yes, I am used to all the hustle and bustle on the road. To me, there is no noise anymore; it has been the music orchestrated to background my day. It has been my routine. Even, now, I feel that my involuntary system does all the riding while I am wondering in some strange land of imagination and contemplation.

To me, the road—especially that I crossed almost every day—has made people less humane. They pace up their bikes or cars like a madman. It is a normality to see someone fall from their bikes or get hit by a car, or bus. I do not know why they risk their life; I cannot comprehend why they sacrifice their life, for what? It may be to be on time to work, which leads me to ask further questions on the reason why they are always in hurry or why they are always in the oh-my-god-I-will-be-late state of situation.

It is so difficult to make a U-turn without constant fear that some madman would hit me from the back, or any sides. The road and routines have robbed the humanity out of human. I see nothing but robots instead of good loving fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, children, or cousins.

Then, suddenly, I got a message that my cousin—who is also my best friend since childhood—dies in a bike crash. Yes, he dies; not died nor passed away; he dies! The death is not the past; it never stops haunting me. For other people, it maybe just some news like, “Honey, I saw a man die today. He was so young, I feel so sorry for him. Anyway, where is my dinner?”

It is not like that for me even though I cannot do anything more than what those random people do.

That is the reality screaming at my face that life matters. Yes, life matters! Not only the life of my cousin or people who I know or love, but also every other life of people who is a complete stranger to me.

Even though it seems natural, it is so egotistical, though, to think that one’s life is more important than others’; even to think that my mother’s life is more important than my neighbor’s mother’s life. 

Anyway, that is what it is and it is how it must be; and I am inextricably tied with it.

Please, drive and ride safe. If it is not for you, then, drive and ride safe for the people who love you; or the life of a strangers—who is at stake—and the people who love them.

There is no job that outweighs life for we can find other jobs. 

There is no dinnertime that outweighs life for we can arrange some more. 

There is no family-time that outweighs life for there is no family-time if there is no life.

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Dedicated to the life and death of my dearest cousin,

Attias Pradipta,

May, 16^th 1992 — March, 24^th 2016,

Rest in Peace, Brother. I’ll see you soon.