003 Cosmic Decision – Letters & Numbers

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Was probably four or five year old when I first took my singing lesson. Were only two of us, me and Bapa in the studio. Yeah, I mention a studio because anywhere with Bapa is a fancy place. Like heaven, you know.

Time passed, I was six year old when all peer friends going to school but me. Due to financial matter I had to wait for another year. Heck, it wasn’t feeling good but I comply to my Parents for their decision: to postpone school until next year.

One day Bapa came home from office. He no longer worked to install electricity in other villages. He went up to work at the city side. Electricity installation was a work of Civil Servants in regency level. He was a Civil Servant in the city already when I was six so no need to leave us with radio cassette. He got time more often with us at home. He hit us and Mama. Was violent. I scared but admired. I comply to him in every way he is for I always love having him as my Bapa, nonetheless. I got no ability to explain why domestic violence can’t erase something called love and admiration for such a man, neither Mama can tell. She’s expert to submit to husband with not much knowledge about a thing. She thinks she’s dull. I think she’s uncommonly amazing.

Anyway, one day Bapa came home from office. He brought me two colorful papers with letters and numbers. Bapa said a man named Albert Einstein ever lived but very far away from our village. He’s very smart, he found formula about gravity. I pictured his face as similar as uncle Bob’s face on the clouds at the sky up on the pasific ocean. Uncle Bob is Mama’s big bro. I knew not Albert Einstein got different skin color. Uncle Bob got dark skin like me and played soccer, one of the best in his time.

Anyway, Bapa told me Albert Einstein can do what he did because he knew how to read, write and count. So Bapa bought the colorful papers for me, saying, “if you know how to read, you can do a lot of things and you can meet a lot of people from far away”. So my first lesson on letters and numbers begun. After a year, I entered school as the only kid who knew how to read, write and count. Bapa taught me how. Hooray!! I became Teacher’s Assistant. Was very little so I always needed chair for extra heigh, reaching blackboard to write for Teacher and friends.

I said my name is Hasoma, meaning it is ok. Meaning all is well. It is ok if.. matter of fact, it is totally fine… if friends go to school first. I have my Bapa and two colorful papers with letters and numbers. Just that and that’s ok.

 

002 Cosmic Decision – Singing Lesson

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There was a little black radio cassette that Bapa used to have. He put it at home for us to know we have one thing fancy when he was away into the jungle to install electricity in other villages. I think that’s heavy! One time when he was with us at home, turned it on to my ears, he was smiling deep to me. It was a recording of my little shy smooth voice when I was learning to talk. I didn’t really talk, no, I was just responding to him. It was only two of us, Siblings and Mama were laughing, as per the recording had it. Everyone laughed at my voice without me knowing why, perhaps my voice was made to make everyone laugh, what’s the different? Everyone laughed anyway. Forgot what I was saying but knew I wore my tiny red skirt. Topless. Maybe that was why everyone laughed at me. I feel funny to remember my naked belly that day.

To his indulgence, Bapa told me that day that my voice is good for singing. So it went, my very first singing lesson begun. I sang the way he sang. From low tone to really… really high tone. The song started with “jam” and ended with “senang”, A.K.A. time and joy. My imagination followed through the song as I was singing in a sense of security. Because he’s with me. I memorized song quite fast. I sang quite good. I have that memory so strong to this day.

My name is Hasoma, meaning it is ok. It is ok if Bapa left us to go to the jungle. It is ok if everyone laughs at my voice. Hasoma!

001 Cosmic Decision – Bapa

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I was told that if I pray God will hear and answer me. So I did it. I prayed. This is how I used to pray: “God, may I become uncle Jimmy’s daughter instead? Uncle Jimmy has more money but he  does not bear a child. While my Bapa, he’s got seven of us but not much money. Not fair. Why didn’t you give me to uncle Jimmy? I might have nice clothes to wear now”.

Uncle Jimmy died couple years ago. My Bapa is still doing good. Not a single illness we found that troubles him. He smokes cigarette, lots of cigarrete per day. Still no illness troubles him. Heavy!

Not knowing when he was introduced to that thing, I know why he smokes a lot. He carries tons of pain since day one when he was born, a premature baby boy he was.He had to go through surgery. He was the first person in the village to go through it. Two months later, his father passed away.

He had a step father, a really nice man as I can tell when I met him shortly but I am not sure how their relationship went. Because Bapa spent his youth with his uncle, a fierceful man whom everybody would agree upon his scary threats. I know Bapa went through an abusive life. Physically, mentally, emotionally, you name it! Yet he is still alive. No illness troubles him. Heavy!

Bapa has seven children. Eight were delivered but one said goodbye world first so now he has seven. I am number four. Of all children of his, I am number four and I am the most proud of being his daughter. He practiced variety of abuses when we were growing up and that is ok with me.

My name is Hasoma, that is ok is the meaning. That is ok, everything will be alright. My name is Hasoma, that is ok if I am not uncle Jimmy’s daughter. My name is Hasoma, it is ok that I grew up with abuses. I learnt a lot from those. I gained more, moreover.

My name is Hasoma. I never again want to be uncle Jimmy’s daughter. I have pride of sort in being Bapa’s daughter. I want to tell you why that is in more upcoming posts. Tata for now!

Cosmic Decision

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Hasoma was my name. It is though, still my name. I lost that name for a little while a while ago, though.

I want to tell you my story. Story of being human. But I do not quite sure where did it start. Did it start since day one? Did it start when I first started to walk and talk which I have no idea when? Did it start when I first knew how to read and write? Did it start when I read about human rights? Or did it start when I started to question, “what does it mean to be human?”?

Whenever my story started, it must be started by two human beings whom I call Bapa for Dad and Mama for Mom. I never call them Father and Mother or Dad and Mom so I will always use Bapa and Mama in writing my story, as it sticks in the heart. Whatever kind of human they are, I am forever grateful that by cosmic decision – – – – – – they are – – – – – – my Parents.

I will be starting to write about Bapa first at the next post. Tata for now!

 

Fleeting Waves

74D6182C-38FC-4748-AFDE-31D81E0B0D91Dear God,

Thank you for your faithfulness but I don’t cry, Okay?!

Thank you for all the pains that came my way to break the jar of clay to show me who I really am inside. I learnt that those pains were just like waves. They’re fleeting away while I remain. I remain, I stand still, because of your faithfulness.

God,

thank you for your faithfulness but I don’t cry, Okay?!

Embracing Imperfect Latte Art

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When I thought it was an imperfect latte art, it seemed to me as a broken piece.

When I thought it was an imperfect latte art and I loved it nonetheless, I now see it as a flower that has not been utterly bloomed yet. I just love it.

I know that I know that I know, every art is made of a person’s being. Your art shows who you are. Like wise, mine. My latte arts show how uncommon I am amongst other Baristas because I can never make straight line.

I love me. I love my imperfection and I think that is what makes me perfect. I have scars, muscles and many more things that make me uncommon amongst other women. I struggled at first to accept myself that way. But it was a good struggle because it built in me such confidence and self esteem that I feel unbreakable, through, of course some painful experiences.

I love me. I love my imperfection and no thing and no one could add any more or less of such love of being me.