1980's Edition Of Bumi Manusia And Anak Semua Bangsa By Pramoedya Ananta Toer.

Henry Wintor's Suicide: An Explanation

To understand the why of the matter, we first need to know Henry’s past. To begin, Henry Winter wasn’t in a car accident. Much like all the other assumptions, it was born from another characters lips and not the subjects. Bunny himself says; “I think that’s what it was. don’t know what else it could’ve been.” And in my humble opinion didn’t draw the alternative option as, what is unthinkable is undoable.

No, instead the conclusion I've drown myself to is that he was beaten by his Father to such a degree he was hospitalized.

1# Evidence of my Conclusion

Henry is a poor driver, even with his precious Julian in the seat right next to him. This is in stark contrast to Camilla and Charles, whose parents were actually in a car accident, and thus get nervous days before travel. Francis too is shown to be anxious particularly when Henry is in the drivers seat, and is so ‘’even in the most propitious of circumstances’’.

Henry can make himself invisible. An odd trait for a man as broad as him, who already is intimidating to those around him. However, he wasn’t always that big, was he? Well, being able to be imperceptible is a survival mechanism for abuse survivors, especially children, which he was indeed once.

He understands Richard in a way you couldn’t without being abused yourself. Richard like himself doesn’t talk about his parents, along with clearly running away from something. The following conversation between the two was extremely telling:

''You’re not very happy where you come from, are you?'' He said I was startled at this Holmes-like deduction. He smiled at my evident discomfiture. ‘’Don’t worry. You hide it very cleverly,’’ he said, going back to his book. Then looked up again. ‘’The others really don’t understand that sort of thing, you know.’’

Henry never smiles at Richard. Hell, Henry likely doesn’t smile often not due to stoicism on his part, but due to the chip in his front tooth. Richard hadn’t understood what Henry was getting at, but to me it’s clear he was trying to comfort him by saying in a light-hearted way ‘’I understand.’’

2# Henrys True Past

Henry’s Father was a man who enjoyed having his way, living the high life with money and women. His business wasn’t ‘’quite above board’’ But money shuts people up—Well, it did. Until he got one of his young flings pregnant.

His family was Catholic (Many families were at the time) Meaning having a child outside of wedlock would’ve been unacceptable. He and his soon to be wife would’ve faced social pressure to wed, and thus, did.

After the arranged marriage, his Father wouldn’t have been as free to do as he pleased, along with now being tied down to a child he didn’t want. He’d have been enraged by the injustice of it all, little Henry being the target for this anger as in his eyes it was the boys fault.

Henrys Mother was young and without power, so when her husbands corporal punishment took a scary turn, she had no way of stopping it. Which left Henry’s Father free to do as he wished—Such as beating Henry half-way to deaths doorstep.

3# So, Why Did Henry Do It?

Much of Henrys behaviour gets dissociated from that of a regular human. On first read, he’s otherworldly, brittle and mysterious. We see the beauty, but not its second face: the way Henry carries an umbrella to protect his sensitive eyes; the manner in which he dresses closely reflecting that of his Fathers fashion preferences, as he had no one else to build his taste upon.

He grew up with no friends, utterly isolated with only tutors and his Mother for company. From what I can surmise, Henry wouldn’t have actually known how to make friends, as he had no previous interactions or social bonds to draw upon. It adds further depth to how meaningful his friendship with Bunny truly would’ve been. Bunny who is friendly with all sorts and highly socially aware—would’ve noticed Henry’s lack of companionship. Bunny, likely was Henrys first actual friend at Hampton, perhaps, his first in years.

Julian saw Henry’s vulnerability, along with his potential for entertainment. He knew what would happen when he introduced Henry to the idea of a Bacchanal—Of escapism and ascending: However, where Julian described it as rebirth, Henry described it as not being you anymore ''After all. the appeal to stop being yourself, even for a little while, is very great'' The further Henry went on, the more it sounded like a plea for relief from reality and himself.

Suicide becomes the only option when we believe there is non other escape. It’s why it’s particularly common amongst teenagers and young adults, as they struggle to see a future past their intense emotions. Many will have ideations for years and will do as Henry did, self-destruct in a last-ditch effort to create a reason to live.

The substance abuse, the murders, the killing of the first friend he ever had—Bunny was truly pivotal, as he treated Henry as an equal. Julian was the final straw, the last peace of approval and love Henry had in the world. ''I loved him more than my own father'' He said ''I loved him more than anyone in the world.''

Henry no longer saw a way out from his suffering through Julian, so he had tried the last thing he could think of—Which was to die in a way he hopped Julian would see as noble, that would mean praise he wouldn't even be around to receive. I believe that's why he held onto life for as long as he did in his final moments, he was waiting for Julian to come back and love him again.

elaborate book covers

it’s so painful to watch yourself grow cold, bitter, and resentful, even toward small, irrelevant things, when all you’ve ever wanted was just to be warm, gentle, kind, and loving.

beneath the endless sky

My Poems Collection So Far (2019-2024)

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman

I need everyone to go to bookstore and grab this book ASAP.

This book wrecked me in a very great way.

Aku dan pikiranku yang terkutuk.

PERINGATAN: TULISAN DEWASA.

Bukankah sedari awal kita mengetahui ini? Enam hari, enam hari yang berharga selamanya akan berakhir menjadi memori pada ruang ide, terkungkung di sana.

Alih-alih bersedih, kita justru di sini—ditemain teh, kue dan bunga. Aku sebetulnya gelisah dalam dudukku, haruskah kita benar-benar merayakan perpisahan ini? Sebab malam setelah kita semua meneguk teh seolah itu air teduh, kita tak lagi punya alasan untuk berkumpul bersama.

Akhirnya, atas upaya melampaui batas ruas khayal, aku menggerakkn kuasa dan meraih sebuah cangkir kosong yang disiapkan oleh Mbak Lia dan Shaka—dua orang yang belakangan ini menjadi sabitah penuh afeksi pada langit malam yang kerap kupandang, atas titahnya yang masih penuh kasih, aku diminta untuk menghias cangkir ini.

Sebuah cangkir putih—kosong, entah mengapa malah mengingatkan ku pada seseorang. Ah, mengapa perasaanku cepat sekali berubah? Tadi aku laiaknya catatan kecil berbuku sendu yang nyaris merenggus, sekarang aku justru tertunduk malu-malu menyadari sisi wajahku yang memerah sebab akalku tengah membayangkan presensi seseorang.

Sedang apa cantikku itu, ya? Apakah ia sedang menunggu kepulanganku di atas kasur kami? Menggunakan gaun pendek selutut berwarna merah muda yang nampak cantik untuknya—ataukah ia tengah bersenandung pada ruang tamu kami, menggerakkan tubunya kesana kemari laksana bayi serigala yang merayu sabana dan tanah-tanah basah?

Aku berupaya meraih sisa kewarasanku di sana, buru-buru—aku menggemgam sebuah kuas untuk melukis, ujung kuas tersebut kucelupkan pada pewarna minyak yang telah disediakan, aku berupaya menorehkan warna di sana—tetapi mengapa detak jantungku bertalu-talu? Mengapa kepalaku seolah dipaksa untuk mengingat tentang kamu? Ah? Sayangku, apa bilah bibirmu yang tak habis kucecap semalam penuh itu mengandung afrodisiak?

Akhirnya, aku membentuk sebuah pola abstrak, laiaknya rambutmu yang bergerak berlawanan arah ketika aku mengusaknya—atau ketika kamu menggeliat sebab aku menggelitiki permukaan kulitmu, sebab aku terbuai oleh gemas tubuhmu. Bolehkah aku melukiskan taman surga pada permukaan cangkir ini?

Gila—aku gila, sebab aku tak percaya surga.

Tetapi aku kerap mencarinya pada lelukmu.

Yang kuingat, kamu kerap menjadi kertas putih sedang aku adalah ujung pena berputar dan tuangan tinta nyata dari kebebasan. Bait demi baitku menjamah bibirmu—aku tengah berupaya membasahi setiap kata, menggelitik setiap penanda jeda. Di antara tubuhmu, ada beberapa kalimat taksa, aku jadi lebih menggebu untuk mengetahuinya. Maka, aku melantunkan syair, kamu jadi puisi erotis yang terus aku jamah.

Aku basah oleh cairan teratai merah sedang kamu jadi bunga berwarna merah yang paling merekah—oh? Haruskah kugambarkan saja bunga berwarna merah di atas cangkir kosong ini? Bunga indah selaiaknya kamu yang membuatku menjadi manusia paling serakah.

Aku lantas melukiskan rasa pada cangkir yang diberi padaku—memproyeksikannya seolah itu tubuhmu yang kerap kucumbu, seolah permukaannya adalah lekuk yang kerap kulekaskan. Pewarna minyak yang kugunakan telah memenuhi cangkir tersebut oleh bunga-bunga yang kugambar sembari mengingat dirimu dan penyatuan kita yang berlinang-linang sebab euforia.

Aku ingat kamu memiliki tattoo kecil pada bagian atas dadamu—sayang. Tentu, yang itu biar menjadi milikku saja, biar tersembunyi dibalik pintalan benang yang hangatkan tubuhmu jika tubuhku sedang tak bisa. Aku memang serakah, indah atasmu biar terbelenggu dalam kehendakku, dalam akalku. Kutulis sebuah kata dengan tinta hitam pada ujung cangkir yang tadi kuhias, kata yang selalu mengingatkanku padamu.

Ah, aku jadi rindu ketika kita jadi satu dalam dekapmu.

Menjelajah hingga ke inti tubuh dan melerai norma yang pagu.

Aku memutuskan untuk mengabadikan gambar tadi lantas mengirimkannya pada kekasihku—sengaja kutulis dengan pesan menggoda di sana, ia pasti akan membalsnya dengan wajah setengah merona sebab setengahnya lagi berniat memukul kepalaku. Padahal, jangankan dipukuli, aku selalu siap jika harus bersujud di antara kedua kakinya atau memikul beban tubuhnya.

Setelahnya, kami diminta untuk menyusun bunga yang masing-masing telah dibatasi maknanya berdasarkan huruf tertentu.

Sayangku, sejatinya aku siap merangkai namamu di sana. Tetapi aksara yang jelaskan tentang dirimu tergubah menjadi kontradiksi paling menggairahkan, seolah yang bisa dilakukan oleh jemariku hanya melecuti pakaianmu hingga kita melebur bersama ego.

Aku mengutuk keserakahan manusia—tetapi nyatanya aku serakah atas dirimu. Sekali lagi aku menaru curiga, pada bilah bibirmu yang basah dan berhias untaian saliva, apakah ada afrodisiak di sana?

Buket bungaku lantas berhias bunga dengan tiga warna—objek yang kuanggap memanifestasikan dirimu, indahnya kamu—hingga membias setiap lara dalam lekuk jiwaku. Menghunus memenuhi setiap relungmu.

Ah kepalaku pening, kutuk lah aku. Maki lah aku yang kini tengah membayangkan elok tubuhmu di tengah keramaian, sayang.

Aku lantas melepas buket bunga yang telah kuhias tadi, kuletakkan dengan penuh hati-hati seolah itu kamu yang kerap terbaring di atas ranjang kita. Timpaniku tersihir merindukan kamu yang meneriaki namaku penuh peluh tetapi masih meminta untuk tetap basah.

Akalku penuh oleh bayang dirimu hingga aku lupa, setelah ini—setelah ini aku akan penuh duka sebab harus berpisah.

What is poetry if not politics? Buried deep beneath the blots of ink lie true intentions and harsh realities. A reflection of our contemporary world.

What is poetry if not a submission? A portrait in the nude. Flesh to be groped, vulnerable to a penetrative gaze.

What is poetry if not a reaping? One's mind ripped apart in fragments, strewn on parchment, thoughts to be devoured. Slow, agonizing death.

I was in dia.lo.gue Kemang when I saw this art gallery. They are a collection of "Warna-Warna Vol II: Pusparagam Seni Disabilitas Warna-Warna", an art exhibition for people with disabilities. The exhibition will be held until October 13th 2024.

Saturday's study log and reflections.

Jakarta on that Saturday was quite solemn, despite the news that has broken so many people's hearts. People—from high school students to middle- and lower-class workers, individuals to organizations and political parties—took to the streets (specifically in front of the House of Representatives at Senayan and the KPU - General Elections Commission - at Menteng) to protest recent political events that felt like violations of Indonesia's fundamental laws. The protests began on August 22, 2024, and continued on August 23 and August 24, although the last two days weren't as massive as the first.

As someone who studies Human Rights and a small portion of international law, what these masses of people did in Jakarta and other cities in Indonesia is solid evidence of how people in this country still love democracy and want it to remain the government's solemn system. The protests they voiced (and will keep voicing until their goals are accomplished) help to restore the checks and balances that the government of Indonesia seems to have forgotten, as they have become drunk with power.

Many protesters were hurt, and some even lost their eyes. It's heartbreaking that the cost of democracy is the blood of its own people who need it the most.

This massive event reflects what I've been studying these past two months in my EDX course: Human Rights, Human Wrong. I've learned how a government can be both the protector and the abuser of its own people. What happened in Indonesia is a clear example. This realization has deepened my understanding of the delicate balance required to maintain a just society and the courage needed to stand up against injustice.

I may not take part in the protest directly, but let me do my part by sharing the stories of people who came back home safely and how they cried about their friends' brutal abductions by police. Let me share the screams for justice of people who are moving en masse to regain the utmost power of democracy. Their courage and determination inspire me to use my voice to amplify their cause, ensuring that their struggles are not forgotten.

Let the government realize how easily they can gain power, and how easily it can slip away from their hands. Democracy is not just a system but a living, breathing entity that requires constant vigilance and care from both the governed and those who govern.