It was one of those moments where all ends didn’t really meet. Exhausted, she was too tired to do anything. She strolled slowly to nowhere. Her eyes were telling no stories, or perhaps, too many stories.
It wasn’t sadness. Nor sorrow. Nor pain. Nor anger. She just felt at lost. Just too many things happened. Too many things to handle. Too many uncertainties. She whispered some questions but no answer was heard.
Continue reading “HIS TEARS”
[This edited version is published by the Jakarta Post on February 2nd, 2008)
What is this thing called tempe? / This tasty thing called tempe…/ Just who can solve its mystery?/ Why should it make a fool of me?
I saw you there one wonderful day/ You made me drool but now you’re gone/ That’s why I ask you guys in Jakarta’s throne../ Why take this thing from me….
– adapted from “What is this thing called love” by Cole Porter, 1930
That ‘thing’ is called tempe. No, it’s not the big Tempe in Arizona where I live. It is something that is so dearly familiar to almost each and every Indonesian. Continue reading “Does Tempe have politics”