Showing posts with label cerpen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cerpen. Show all posts

Thursday, October 5, 2017

APRIL DAN GALLANT (cerpen)




Jadi gue punya dua karakter yang sangat menarik; namanya Aprilianda (April/cewek) dan Gallant (cowok). April pernah muncul di sini: https://logikatanpacela.blogspot.co.id/2014/11/lol-cerpen-untitled.html

Di kisah utamanya, mereka berdua umurnya masih 19 tahun, sempat sekelas di kelas 12 SMA, tinggal di kompleks perumahan yang sama hanya berbeda jalan saja, dan ketika upacara kelulusan, April dengan santainya menyatakan perasaannya pada Gallant—yang tentunya adalah cowok paling populer karena dia ganteng dan ramah—membuat Gallant terbengong-bengong nggak nyantai karena, hei, sejak kapan teman sekelasnya yang merupakan salah satu cewek paling kalem, paling murah senyum tapi tidak pernah benar-benar ikutan menggila bareng, cewek yang tidak mau pergi ke sekolah bareng meskipun Gallant tidak keberatan untuk memboncenginya ini… suka padanya?

Dan lagi, apa-apaan si April?! Dengan santainya menambahkan, “Gue cuma mau ngasitau aja. Lo nggak usah jawab apa-apa, begini udah cukup.”

Nah.

Klise, tapi biasanya si cowok yang ngomong begitu. Bukan si cewek.

Tapi ya namanya juga Bamby.

MuahahahahHAHAHA.

Dalam rangka membangkitkan semangat menulis dengan Bahasa Indonesia dan #31HariMenulis, gue mau mencoba membuat baaanyaaaaak skenario untuk kedua orang ini! Semoga terwujud! Skenarionya tidak berkaitan satu sama lain! Semacam cerpen yang bahkan lebih pendek dari cerpen! Skenarionya ada yang gue ambil dari Tumblr ada juga produk sendiri~









1: HOGWARTS
Untuk Azka



            “Hi.”
            Cewek itu menoleh ke arah Gallant yang sudah siap dengan Cengiran Tampan Khasnya, dan ia balas tersenyum dengan manis; bibirnya yang tipis berwarna merah menyala dan kedua matanya yang bulat besar itu membentuk separo bulan sabit.
            “Hi,” katanya singkat, kemudian mencopot sejuntai kabel putih dari telinga kirinya.
            Gallant melebarkan pintu kompartemen dan bertanya, “Kosong, ya? Gue boleh duduk bareng lo?”
            “Silakan,” jawab cewek itu dengan santai, mengangguk pada bangku kosong di hadapannya. Gallant memerhatikan ada sebuah koper berukuran sedang di atas kepala cewek itu, berwarna sama merah dengan bibir tipisnya. Ia tidak tahu apa fungsi dari kabel putih yang cewek itu pakai di telinganya, dan apa benda yang tengah cewek itu pegang; sebuah perangkat muggle canggih, mungkin? Bentuknya kotak, tipis, pink.
            Thanks, kompartemen lain berisik banget.” Gallant memilih alasan paling masuk akal yang bisa dipikirkannya, dan ia menutup pintu dengan pelan.
            No problem,” kata cewek itu lagi, masih dengan santai, dan Gallant berpikir mungkin karena pembawaannya yang kelewat santai inilah yang membuat teman-temannya merasa perlu untuk mengerjai Gallant.
            Untungnya Gallant juga kurang kerjaan.
            “Anyway,” Gallant berdeham, “gue Gallant. Gryffindor tahun ketujuh.” Ia menyodorkan tangan kanannya dan cewek itu pun menyalaminya dengan mantap namun singkat. Tangannya halus dan wanginya mirip apel.
            “April, Ravenclaw. Tahun ketujuh juga.”
            “Masa sih kita seangkatan? Gue kayaknya belum pernah liat lo, deh!”
            “Maksud lo belum pernah lo cium kali?”
            Oh, shit.
          Gallant tertegun. Jantungnya berdegup tak keruan—kepalanya kosong dan tenggorokannya mengering. Biasanya… biasanya tidak pernah ada cewek yang mempermalukannya seperti ini; biasanya setelah Gallant menyatakan kalimat pamungkasnya tadi, seharusnya, cewek-cewek lain akan merasa perlu untuk menarik perhatian Gallant lebih jauh lagi dengan cara menyentuh lengannya atau tertawa keras-keras ketika Gallant melontarkan lelucon tak lucu sama sekali—karena mereka melihat sebuah kesempatan untuk bisa jadi lebih dekat dengan Muhammad Gallant, kapten tim Quidditch Gryffindor yang sangat populer, bukannya menyatakan kalimat pamungkas balasan yang justru mengalahkan upaya Gallant untuk membuka celah dan memastikan reputasinya sebagai Yang Tak Pernah Ditolak.
            “Ahh…” Gallant meringis, menggigit bibir bawahnya dan mengusap tengkuk lehernya; tidak tahu harus berbuat apa. “Kedengeran, ya?”
            April tertawa kecil, mengiyakan tanpa berkata apa-apa. Pipinya yang penuh itu membulat, membuatnya terlihat sangat manis. Ia tidak tampak gugup sama sekali, hanya masih menatap Gallant dengan santainya, seolah ia menantang Gallant untuk melanjutkan apa yang telah dimulainya dengan sangat buruk.
           “Sori banget,” Gallant berkata dengan suara sangat pelan, “gue sama temen-temen suka gabut kalo baru masuk.” Ia tidak berani mengangkat kepalanya. Ngomong-ngomong, April memakai sepasang sepatu muggle yang sangat keren. Pergelangan kakinya yang putih itu dibalut kaus kaki transparan. Gallant teringat akan mata pelajaran Muggle Studies dan ia pikir fashion muggle kadang sangat aneh.
            “Nggak apa-apa.”
            “Seriusan, sori banget, ya.”
            “Iya.”
            “Lo mau jajan sesuatu nggak? Gue beliin, ya?”
            “Nggak usah, gue bawa Oreo.”
            “Oreo?”
            April tersenyum dan Gallant menangkap kesan bahwa ia luar biasa senang dengan topik baru ini. Ia meletakkan benda muggle kotak tipis pink di bangku, dan mengaduk isi tas punggungnya yang berwarna sama merah dengan bibir tipisnya.
            “Oreo itu biskuit. Ada isian krimnya,” kata April sambil merobek bungkus biru Oreo. “Cobain deh, enak.” Ia mengambil satu keping biskuit bulat dengan isian krim berwarna ungu dan merobek lebih lebar agar Gallant bisa dengan mudah mencicipi.
            “Eh, iya.” Gallant terbelalak setelah satu gigitan. “Kok dingin gini, sih? Agak asem juga.”
          “Enak, kan?” April tersenyum. “Gue stock Oreo banyak kok kalo lo mau lagi, cukup sampai akhir tahun. Biaya pengiriman ke Hogwarts mahal banget soalnya.”
           “Lo dari Indonesia, ya?” Gallant bertanya, menjilati jempolnya. “Gue juga orang Indonesia, sih. Tapi mami papi udah dua puluh tahun di London dan udah jadi warga negara Inggris.”
            “Hmm,” April mengangguk, “pantes aksen lo native banget.”
          “He he iya.” Gallant nyengir, senang karena tidak ada rasa canggung yang tersisa di antara mereka. April benar-benar santai dan kalem, meskipun Gallant cukup yakin kesan pertama yang ia berikan jauh dari kata ‘menyenangkan’. Apabila posisi mereka ditukar dan ia adalah April, ia tidak akan mau meladeni seorang cowok kurang kerjaan yang menerima begitu saja tantangan teman-temannya untuk mencium cewek manis yang duduk di kompartemen 31.
            Gallant mau dicium Dementor saja rasanya!
“Erm, apa nama kampung halaman lo di Indonesia?”
            “Meikarta.”
            “Meikarta?”
            Tiba-tiba April mendengus. “Nggak, sori,” ia terkikik geli sendiri dan Gallant khawatir ia akan tersedak Oreo. Ada semburat pink di wajahnya dan setitik biskuit hitam Oreo di ujung bibir kanannya. “Sori. Gue dari Bali. Mungkin lo pernah denger?”
            Gallant memberi kode pada April dengan cara menyentuh ujung bibirnya sendiri dan April mengusapkan punggung tangannya ke bibirnya, mengangkat kedua alisnya yang digambar rapi.
           “Udah ilang,” jawab Gallant, “mami gue bilang mau ngajak liburan ke Bali kalo nilai-nilai O.W.L. gue minimal Acceptable.”
           “Emang nilai lo apa?”
           “Beberapa ada yang Poor, ada yang Acceptable.”
           Exceeds Expectations?”
           “Nggak ada bahahaha!”
        April berhenti mengunyah. Ia menelengkan kepalanya seolah berpikir keras, dan akhirnya bertanya dengan gaya Santainya, “Lo mau belajar bareng gue?”
            Gallant tergagap-gagap, “S-Serius?”
            “Serius. Siapa tau gue ketularan populer kalo kita keliatan bareng di perpustakaan.”
            “Pasti lah, lo kan manis.”
            April tertawa lebar. Bahunya terguncang dan ia bertepuk tangan girang. Deretan giginya putih dan rapi dan seperti dirinya secara keseluruhan; mungil.
Gallant dibuat melongo, tidak yakin dengan pemandangan luar biasa tidak biasa yang terjadi detik itu juga.
Cieeeee gue dibilang manis sama Pangeran Hogwarts.” April mendengus, terdengar sangat bangga dengan lelucon privatnya. “Kapan lagi, kan?”
Sebenarnya Gallant tidak masalah jika harus sering-sering mengingatkan April betapa manis dirinya, tapi mungkin lain waktu saja, lihat nanti bagaimana ke depannya.



END



Friday, June 26, 2015

ini prosa kali ya? monolog? also in english


Kalo lo bisa nebak prosa/monolog/rambling ini tentang apa, next time we meet, I’m gonna kiss your face. Suwer.





Alma, matters

You were always just there
On endless papers, alive on pretty abc’s,
Out of my mind
    (and maybe theirs)
I was inside of you (they probably never were)
For quite awhile and I
Was quite keen to get out
    Was I wrong, Alma?
I wasn’t wrong,
Look what I did to
You for a while
And I’m sorry,
    I really am, for
You’re always just there,
As you should be (for as long as I will always be),
Waiting,
Knowing—patiently that
You
And I?
We matter
We do
    Together


    First of all, she wasn’t my anything. She poised just like a newly formed mole around your mouth that popped out of nowhere after you stayed in one particular place with its particular weather for quite some time. Say, four and a half years. Because you made a bad decision, got lost, and it took a while to get back on track again. And suddenly, she’s there, on the left corner of your top lip. But that’s not the point. Or maybe it is? Because now that you think about it, those extra, unnecessary days had worn you out you were way too keen to leave her behind. Remember those bleak hours when you got stuck in your head, when voices were screaming at you to book the first flight the next morning back to where you began. Was it hatred you felt towards her? Hate is a strong word. I can never hate her, I know that for sure. She’s lovely, Alma. Different.

    ***

    My cousin introduced us. She was older than me, and so was Alma. When I said she’s different, Alma, that is, I meant it. Alma was already well-known among others for her humble beauty and superior brain and in spite of her rich background, she possessed an ability to blend in with the crowd and she never was conceited about it, unlike me, who was young and confused because everything was so new and although not quite overwhelming, like everyone had assumed, but it was close to make me lose track like I told you before.
    Alma was always just there. I never paid her attention, to be completely honest. I was probably only one among her other million admirers. Hell. I didn’t even admire her. I just had the opportunity. And they say you’re gonna miss her when she’s gone, only the irony is that she’s not going anywhere, it was me who left her, remember?
   
    ***

    So, I left.
    Can’t blame the revulsion I felt for her back then. It already happened, I can’t change anything. I didn’t hate her, but I’ve had enough of her. Of her kindness and vast knowledge. Of her blinding sight and how she made me feel alone. Of her hot and cold and her—my—our friends. I’ve had enough, and it was time for me to leave anyway.
   
    ***
   
    “Alma? Wow, okay,” they often say when I admit I was with her. “Okay, wow.”
    It takes me a couple of their, my new acquaintances who have never met you, awed exclamations to realize that you’re the only one, Alma, you will always be the only one with me because they never got the opportunity. You matter, Alma, please forgive me. It was never your fault, Alma, it was mine, you’re always you with your humble beauty and your superior brain and maybe I was only bitter because why couldn’t I be myself without you? If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be me, I get it now, Alma, I’m so sorry. Look at me now. I love you, I do.

THE END

Saturday, June 20, 2015

cerpen english (mungkin romance mungkin bukan)

(dan mungkin, sedikit nyata baaahahahahhaha.)



Innocent Fire
(Not) a love story

    Have you ever been really, really into someone you actually think you’re on the verge of hating them?
    I did. I do. I don’t know.
    She’s pretty, I have to admit, the kind of girl who will always make you blink in wonder whether she’s bundled up in cardigans or surrounded by daisies and roses on her summer dresses. The thing is, she wasn’t in my radar at all. I doubt that I was even in her radar as well, not with the fact that we’re coming from different departments and she’s not staying at the dorm because she’s always riding her cute, brick-colored bicycle with a basket attached on the soft-angled handles to and fro her house, which is only fifteen minutes tops on sunny days.
    Me? I’m staying at the dorm, five minutes walk to and fro my building. And I don’t like to hang out after my classes, I’m unfamiliar with the green grass decorating our university’s main park, I don’t know what books the stone statues trio on the fountain are reading forever.
    I met her in the library.
    Her name is Krisan.

***

    I’m an only child. My cousins are all younger than I and they live too far off from here. They’re alright, just like how I find any other younger kids who will grin at me when I ruffle their heads in passing. This certain aspect of my life shaped me up to be a gentle boy; I’m always careful with the power I possess in my big hands and they, the younger kids and especially my mom, also say that I have a gentle smile. They like my smile. According to a little girl about six, some years ago, she felt safe when I smile.
    Maybe that was why Krisan smiled at me first.
    “Thank you so much,” she said as I handed over the text book she was reaching out. I couldn’t remember what the book was about. Everything, now, is a blur but her pretty smile. What was I doing in the library that day? Why did I go near the management section? Yet, somehow, I could remember that her lips were stained peach-like, similar with the apples of her cheeks. And her coffee-colored irises were reflecting the lamps above us. She was only about my shoulders, her black hair curling around her collarbones. She wore a cute peplum top and skinny jeans. She smelled like orange.
    Yeah, I mumbled, and still smiling that pretty smile, she continued,
    “It’s really you. I thought to myself, ‘I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before!’ Tell me, how was the little boy? Did his parents finally find him?”
    What?
    “The little boy you helped last week! At the mall, remember? You were so gentle with him he didn’t want you to leave him with the security guards. Did his parents finally find him?”
    Oh. Right. Enggar. His twin brothers found him not long after.
    “That’s a great relief!”
    Yeah.
    “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” She giggled and her eyes disappeared. Kind of. “I’m Krisan.”
    We shook hands and I told her my name.
    “Emil? Like, from the children book?” she put a strand of hair behind one cute ear. Her fingernails were painted in turquoise.
    I was surprised she knew the origin of my name. Emil was a character from my mom’s favorite childhood books. I’ve read some. He was a naughty boy with a clever mind and good intentions.
    “You don’t seem to be a troublemaker like Emil,” she giggled again, “I should go. My next class is about to start.”
    Oh, okay, I said. I wasn’t even disappointed at that time.
    “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Emil. I couldn’t shake off the picture of you holding hands with that little boy. You stood out just like that among the crowds!” she touched my left forearm. “Have a great day!” and I wasn’t even attracted to her back then.

***

    It’s not funny that Krisan was the name of a Japanese comic character’s favorite flower to be buried together with in her funeral. She got her wish fulfilled. Her krisan was all yellow, I remember it now. Krisan? She’s never just yellow. She always glowed.

***

    I fell head over heels for her when I really stared at the slope of her cute nose and the way her bony elbows moved as she tied up her hair in a neat ponytail. I asked her phone number and she always texted back within a heartbeat. Her laugh? I found a perfect song to describe her laugh and she laughed when I told her to listen to the song. I liked her. I was really into her. And then I saw her with one particular guy multiple times around my dorm, and I realized that the guy lived in the same floor with me and I remember I didn’t understand a thing.
    So I asked.
    “Ahmad? No one.”
    No?
    “No, Emil. We’re just friends, like you and I.”
    Hm.
    “Weren’t we going to eat? I’ve got something for you.”
    She’s a great cook. I forgot my awkward attempt at jealousy as she presented a hearty feast of broccoli frittata with smoked beef and cheese, her homemade tomato chutney, and lemon-cream mini donuts.
    Do you also cook for Ahmad?
    Krisan paused and she pouted like I broke her heart, not the other way around.
    “Aw, Emil, don’t be difficult.”
    It’s just a question.
    “Well, stop asking,” she whined, frowning. She added as an afterthought, but it’s effective anyway, “Please.”
   
***
   
    Girls tend to adore my towering height, followed by my hipster glasses and lastly, maybe they like my face; I’m not really sure.
    Did Krisan ever have a feeling for me? I didn’t know, so I asked. And her eyes were so lovely, all wide and confused and that was it, I was so sure that was the end, I was so ready for it to end, but of course I was wrong.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, sincerely, but somehow I doubted it. She, at least, was aware of my act of paying for our apparently-not-dates and lending my favorite jacket for her when she had flu last week. I would never lend my favorite jacket just for any girl who swooned over my height and my glasses and maybe my face—no. She must have known. I was pretty obvious about it.
    But then again, not only I was Emil but I’m also stupid.
    Don’t be, it’s okay, you have Ahmad.
    “What are you talking about?” Krisan snapped, thoroughly insulted.
    You know what I’m talking about.
    “Why are you like this?” she frowned. I remember I never liked it when she did that. “What do you want from me?”
    Yeah, what was it again? You didn’t even know what you wanted back then, right, Emil? You liked her, that was the truth, but then, what? You broke up with your last ex because you thought what you did with her was useless, and you had really, really liked her, remember? Was it the thrill of the chase? If so, why did you ask, you goddamned haywire shithead, you got her answer, yeah? And what was it that you planned to do after hearing her exasperation? After realizing that she’s not into you? Have you ever been really, really into someone you actually think you’re on the verge of hating them?
    I did.
    I did.

THE END

mulai membanding-bandingkan

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