Wow,
I was lucky to meet Chairil at the Artic ice cream shop, in Kramat Raya,
Batavia. He was sitting in the corner at a rattan chair and table. As usual, he
was busy reading a book without paying attention to his surroundings. When I greeted
him, he lifted his head from the book and smiled kindly to me. He seemed to
remember his promise to give me an interview, but all this time it was very
difficult to meet him. Maybe he tried to avoid it because he actually doesn't
like the noise of publicity. So, I was lucky to cornered him here.
But
ouch, his face was crumpled, his eyes were red as if he hadn't slept. His face
was gloomy and tired.
"Last
night did you stay up late, Ril...?" I asked.
"Not
really... this is how I am..." he said absentmindedly, then glanced at the
entrance when the doorbell rang. Apparently an IndoDutch girl came in. This ice
cream shop is visited by many Indonesians, Dutch and IndoDutch teenagers, many
of whom have just come home from school. The atmosphere became lively. Apparently,
this is what this 'Wild Beast' (so he called himself in his famous poem) is
looking for, hanging out here while enjoying the view of many pure white,
blonde-haired girls.
There
was no ice cream on the table yet, so I offered: “Would you like some ice
cream… Ril? “
"Anything..."
he said.
"Okay...
I'll order mocha ice cream... the one with biscuits..." I spoke.
But
he didn't seem to care. He really doesn't care what he eats, he just smokes a
lot. His body was thin and looked neglected. His face was pale, with dark
circles around his eyes. His clothes were casual, his shirt was faded and his
trousers were shabby. Truly like “The Wild Beast, cast out from the herd.”
In
fact, as far as I know, his parents are well to do, his father is the regent of
Indragiri. And he was an only child, so you can imagine he was spoiled from
childhood. Everything is there and never lack of anything. I really want to ask
him about his family.
I
said: "I can ask you... Ril, your childhood must have been abundant and
enjoyable... right...?"
Chairil:
“Look
at the faded orange love:
And
I choose
the
view blurs, the surrounding leaves fall
the
house is hidden in tall shady cypresses
in
the glass window no shadow comes floating
Marbles,
spinning toy, wooden horses, little boats of
childhood,
Look
at the faded orange love:
If a
mirage typhoon comes,
rolling
the marbles, spinning toys
wooden
horses, blowing little boats
I
was already rigid.”
At the age of 19, after his parents'
divorce, Chairil and his mother moved to Batavia. He lived in the house of his
uncle, Sutan Sjahrir, Prime Minister of Indonesia. However, he is like someone
whose life is unusual, his clothes are shabby, he eats irregularly, he wanders
everywhere and often sleeps in his friends' rooms.
The waiter served two mocha ice creams at
our table. Chairil ignored it, he just stared, until the ice cream started to
melt.
I asked: “Do you have a nostalgia about
this shop… Ril…?”
Chairil:
“Between
happiness now and later an abyss opens,
My
little sister enjoys licking artic ice;
This
evening you are my love, I garnish with milk plus coca cola
My
wife in training: we stop the clock ticking.
You're
really good at kissing, I can feel the scratch remains
when
we cycle I bring you home
Your
blood is hot, you will quickly become a woman,
The
old man's dream is rising to the sky.
Your
choice every day picks up, every time
changed;
Tomorrow
we'll cross paths, we don't know who each other:
Heaven
is just a short game.
I am
like you, everything passes quickly
I
and Tuti plus Greet plus Amoi heartbroken,
Love
is a danger that quickly fades”
Some time ago, after Indonesia proclaimed
independence, the Dutch carried out military aggression to regain control of
Indonesian territories. Together with the Allied troops they succeeded in
controlling the West Java region. When the Dutch army invaded Bekasi, thousands
of people fled towards Karawang. Fighting then broke out in the area between
Karawang and Bekasi. As a result, many of the Indonesian Republic Army (TRI)
chose to retreat to the countryside and join with local people to build
defenses against Dutch attacks. Several TRI troops were headquartered in
Rawagede village and led by Captain Lukas Kustarjo. Unfortunately, the
fighter's headquarters in Rawagede village was discovered by Dutch henchmen.
Without thinking further, the Dutch
military immediately prepared a plan for a sudden attack on Captain Lukas and
his soldiers. The Dutch tried to find Captain Lukas, but they were unable to
catch him. The Dutch then gathered male residents aged around 14 years in the
field. One by one they were asked about Captain Lukas' whereabouts, but none of
them knew. Their answer certainly did not make the Dutch immediately believe
it. The young men were then ordered to squat with their backs to the Dutch
soldiers with their hands placed above their heads. In an instant, bodies began
to fall after being executed by the Dutch.
I asked him: "You wrote a poem to
commemorate these teen youths who were recently killed by the Dutch between
Karawang and Bekasi, can you tell us about the memory..."
Chairil:
“We who are now lying between
Karawang-Bekasi
cannot shout "Freedom" and take
up arms again.
But who no longer hears our roar,
imagine us moving forward and beating heart?
We talk to you in silence on a lonely night
If your chest feels empty and the wall
clock is ticking
We die young. What remained were bones
covered in dust.
Remember, remember us.
We've tried what we can
But the work is not done, we cannot comprehend
the meaning of 4-5 thousand lives
We are just scattered bones
But they are yours
You are again who determine the value of
the scattered bones
Or our souls soar for freedom, victory and
hope
or not for nothing,
We do not know, we can no longer say
You are the one now saying
We talk to you in silence on a lonely night
If your chest feels empty and the wall
clock is ticking
Remember, remember us
Keep going, keep our souls going
Guarding Bung Karno
look after Bung Hatta
look after Bung Sjahrir
We are now corpses
Give us meaning
Always stay on the line between statements
and dreams
Remember, remember us.
all that remains is bones covered in dust
Thousands of us lay between
Karawang-Bekasi.”
THE END
This is imaginary interview in memory of
Chairil Anwar
Sources:
https://ensiklopedia.kemdikbud.go.id/sastra/artikel/Chairil_Anwar
https://www.kompas.com/stori/read/2022/08/12/195042579/peristiwa-pembantaian-rawagede-1947?page=all
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