Sweet Ubud Corner............
Om Swastyastu .................
Do still remember the story of Pan Dabreg????..............Let's Go......!!!!
" The Happy old times " she thinks. Men Dabreg smiles to herself.The rice is already cooked, she just needs to prepare the vegetables. Young tapioca leaf, eggplant, also some spices to be put in the wok. Puts on top of the trivet, taking off thence which is cooked. She adds a little coconut sugar and salt, the stir and waits.
The smoke from the trivet comes to her eyes, smarting, a little bit. She wipes her eyes with, the edge of her shirt, a little bit worn but clean. That shirt is already one year old. The colour, old yellow, has a red flower as the picture.
Men Dbreg remembers she bought that shirt from the clearing sale in Ubud corner. She bargained for halft price. They gave it to her as the seller said, as penggarus. She felt very glad. Lately Men Dabreg has been very astonished with her husband. Since the old market in Ubud collapsed , and the new two storey market built, the behaviour of her husband has been unusual.
At night, when he sleeps he often, talks. Many kinds of talk. Sometime calls his late father's name, sometimes just says, " tourist, tourist!" or only says, : dangerous, dangerous!' All these are big questions for Men Dabreg, once she questioned her husband . He just answered flatly : " Maybe I just tired ." If she push him more, her husband soon changes the conversation.
"Wah, this time your food very delicious. Is it you put more in than usual ? " Lately questions about that are never answered.Without realising, the vegetables are already cooked . Soon Nyoman comes in, the sound of singing coming first. He always sings the same song, " Madu dan Racun ". The pop songs. Almost everybody from young to old can sing these songs.
Almost at the same time, Pan Dabreg comes in too. His tall body and large steps remind people of " I Bima " in the shadow puppet story. After Men Dabreg has made and given offerings to the house, the three people have lunch. After that , Nyoman leaves, busy in the backyard feeding the cows.
Men Dabreg and her husband sit on the bed in the paon. That old bed still firmly holds their bodies, even when there are five people. " Memene, do you remember when we met before ? " Always she calls her husband Bapane, and her husband calls her Memene.
" Why do you ask that ? " Men Dabreg returns the question. " No, nothing. I was just remembering that night we saw arja performance in the corner of Ubud, " says her husband with deep voice, " Many people in the audience."
" Yes, we walked at that time in a group along the path," the wife says while she carries the dirty plates to the plastic bucket, the memory passing her mind. " You walked with your group, I walked with mine." The husband lights his cigarette. The flame from the match makes a silhouette on his face.
" Then you still remember ? The torch from your group was dead. So, to walk in the night without moon, your group joined mine, " he says again inhaling his cigarette deeply, then letting the smoke out.
" And then while we walked to Ubud, we joked, " she replies, " And your jokes with your friends, very rude !"
"Oh, that was just to chase away the fear, if leyak came !"
" Actually the leyak was you." Jest Men Dabreg. " You always looked at me, and tried to hold my hand, isn't it ?"
" Ha,ha,ha,ha,. You just say that Memene. How could i hold your hand then if you didn't smile at me?" The husband laughs, no teeth in his top mouth making him look older. "Ahh, you are the man without shame. With many people, you were brave to hold, " grumble the wife, joking. She still has some beauty remining from when she was young.
"But , all that success, The result?" He inhales his cigarette again. "Four children , two granchildren!" He bows out the smoke from his cigarette, until it touches the husband may explain . Or at least talk more.
That man is still quite, his forehead wrinkling. He flicks the ash from his cigarette.His eyes travel down to his feet. those feet which have traveled all his life.
" Memene," he says suddenly," will i go to Ubud?" And then stands hurriedly," Tying sarong. Without waiting for the answer Pan Dabreg flies out.
She sees Pan Dabreg snatch the hat hanging on the bamboo wall. Look at his cock in the cage in the corner of the house. Then lost from view after passing angkul - angkul of the house. The leaving of her husband for Ubud this time, leaves unanswered questions for Men Dabreg. She tries to forget it. Stack the clean plates in the bamboo rack, then starts sweeping the kitchen floor alone.
The voice of her neighbour's radio, broadcasting drama - gong, is heard clearly in her ears. Sometimes she hears the cow mooing, annoyed by burnning hot of the daytime. The solitude now squeezes her, the solitude which she does not understand.
Thank you....Dear , please keep it in your sweet memory . All from the sacred romance of Ubud......
Om Canti...Canti...Canti.....Om
Rijasa Agung Ubud Bali Villas Resort Hotel
Br. Begawan, Desa melinggih kelod, Kec. Payangan, Ubud, Gianyar, Bali - Indonesia
Telp. No. (+62.361) 980.333, Facsimile (+62. 361) 980.411,
Site : www.rijasa.com
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