If Tomorrow We Disappear

564329_10150669284377043_1967720761_nIf tomorrow we disappear, I want to remember life as it is. As a cycle of life.

2012 has been a year of calling. And now I recall.

P1040227Of remembering my first step arriving in Dharamsala, the first snow that fall in my face and saying to myself that it is not a dream.

IMG-3815Of remembering the sea and remembering the mountain.

P1060347Of remembering the many sunrise and many sunset all over the places.
IMG_6026Of remembering the feel of home and the feel of going away.

IMG_6474Of remembering the good times and the bad ones.

IMG_6911Of remembering the death and be among the living.

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Of remembering to let go of your hate to feel loved.

IMG_5379Of remembering to share to feel rich.

IMG01216-20120402-1727Of remembering to throw all your emotional baggage in the exact bin.

P1040372P1040344Of remembering what is important and who really matters.

P1000564Of remembering in order to reconstruct you have to deconstruct and it’s a pain, and all of it goes away in the end.

mpOf remembering that the past help you to move on to the future and to be in the present.
P1010038Of remembering your own darkness and to make it your best friend in peace.

_MG_0014That going outside is merely to go deep inside yourself.

P1060212And in the end remember your balance.

_MG_0253That in the end, beauty stays. No matter what.

The last two months, after my trips from Rembang, I fall sick. I stop everything. Turn out I also need for my wisdom teeth to be pull out. Turn out also wisdom did not left me although it prolong my sickness. Sickness also is not always physical.

I’ve been sick, tired and overworked. I’ve been broken from time to time. But I have learn that I could heal myself. That the hardest thing when you feel dark is to wake up to the light. And that the undying light itself is within yourself. I learn that my parents name me, Dian, not for nothing. It mean to be the candle that never died.

And that every lesson are trying to teach you the same thing until you learn. That by learning to listen and see the universe, you realized how things are connected. Now and again. You learn and grow. And even, if tomorrow we disappear, I choose to wake up to the light.
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Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.

The Lord of the Rings – J.R. Tolkiens

Photo caption:

[1] 2012 – My first sunrise in Ternate, turn out that Sultan Tidore just passed away and the coffin come out right under my seat. Photo courtesy of Labodalih Sembiring.

[2] 2012 – Me in my Kashmiri slippers while drying my boots after a snow fall the night before, at Ladies Venture, Mcleod Ganj – Dharamsala

[3] 2005 – My long time converse sneakers, on a ferry boat trip from Merak to Bakauheuni, on the way to Lampung, it was my family last trip together before my mother got sick

[4] 2012 – Sunset in Sale, Rembang among the teak forest

[5] 2006 – My mother on her 60th birthday, two months before she died, we were from the hospital from her last chemotherapy and ate lunch in her most favorite restaurant of her lifetime, Trio Restaurant, Cikini, Jakarta

[6] 2006 – Farabi’s farewell dinner to Netherland and sleepover, minutes before my flight to Jakarta when both of my parents were critical in the hospital

[7] 2006 – My father with my brother, reading a birthday card from me, my father first birthday without my mother

[8] 2012 – Me and my son, Asabhumy, at our house in Jogjakarta

[9] 2012 – The AMAN Media team going home from Dodola Island, Morotai

[10] 2012 – Me in North Java Sea, Lasem coast

[11] 2012 – The books from New Delhi and my son, Asabhumy. My soul mates and best friends in Sangam Restaurant on Losar 2012, Labodalih Sembiring and Abmi Handayani, photo taken by Jean Pascal Elbaz

[12] 2010 – Finishing my tatto series of Om Mane Padme Hum, with Munir Toxic Tatto, Jogjakarta, photo taken by Megan Ryan

[13] 1965 – My father at 24 and my mother at 19, Buitenzorg, the photo taken by my father’s best friend who become a photographer later on (I forgot his name). It was the year when they started going out, it is also the year when darkness swept Indonesian contemporary lives.

[14] 2005 – Buddha in Borobudur Temple

[15] 2012 – Me in my journey from Ternate to Sofifi, Mount Gamalama at my back. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring

[16] 2012 – My son at the back of Inna’s house, Nitiprayan – Jogjakarta

[17] 2012 – My hot pink nails and a small white butterfly in Tobelo, in the middle of AMAN Congress. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring.

[18] 2012 – Me doing a warrior yoga pose at the dock of Dodola Island, Morotai. Photo courtesy by Labodalih Sembiring.

dharamsala #5: tsuglag khang monastery and dalai lama’s house

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view of dharamsala from tsuglag khang monastery

i felt this silence peace the first time i enter the premise. it grows the longer you stay here. i did my kora. offered my khata. did my prayer in front of the green tara statue. spending the last minutes of dharamsala talking to this amazing place. it is a beautiful place that i could visit everyday. somehow i can imagine myself taking my boy to this place and do our daily kora.

it was at this place that i felt i can let go all this burden of all the years. that this is the end cycle of my karma. that everything is okay and i owe this place my utmost gratitude in life. it was with this very light feeling that i left dharamsala, asking permission to stay longer next time.

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IMG01693-20120211-1407candles at the tsuglang khang monastery | buddha statue inside | abmi doing her kora | me in front of the his holiness residence | two pilgrims in front of his holiness residence | HH dalai lama’s letterbox

indian love #2: food

P1030321bengali cuisine: befun bhaja, dry matar, gobindo bhog rice, chicken kosha, chhna malai kofta – unbox

i always have a thing with indian food, has been having a crazy craving on them and whenever they are available i always have them. being in india is like being in that food heaven you dream of. every single day that we spend were such a culinary trip. we didn’t even had the time to take pictures of the food we are eating as we already munch them down. and they are too good so we completely forget about taking pictures. this post are the things that survive and all of them worth to remember.

Continue reading “indian love #2: food”

dharamsala #3: the feel of home

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our room window at ladies venture, mcleod ganj

it was six days that feel to be forever. we extented our stay in dharamsala, longer than it supposed to be. me and abmi agreed that we can see agra and the rest at another chance. we don’t want anything else in the world accept to stay there. dharamsala feels homey at the first sight and at our last. i missed the place terribly now while i’m making this post.

we stayed at ladies venture the first two days where we basically just need to open our window to see the mountain. we moved to akash hotel on our third morning and every morning i wake up, folded my blanket and went outside the porch to see moon peak around an hour or two. then enjoy either chai or kahwa (the kashmiri tea: with a tint of saffron, cardamom and cinnamon) before i had a hot shower.

never in my life i take my time and doing the little simple things. eagles flew above us among the small town of mcleod ganj and to the forest area. the sound of birds and that particularly fresh cold air. we don’t really plan on what we do or what to see. we were just taking our time with our surrounding. i feel at peace somehow. i felt like i’m talking to this place and its mountain, asking it’s permission to stay.

the only reason i had to leave is that i have to take my son here. i even starting to feel that we can live here somehow. we went to tibetan children village, passing the pine forest, to take some package for jean-pascal tibetan son. the minutes we arrived at tcv i can imagine my son running around the place. i can imagine myself spending my time in dharamsala just to do my writings. i can imagine myself walking every morning just to do the kora at the monastery.

i don’t want to imagine it anymore. somehow i’m starting to believe i’ll be there again soon enough.

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our comfy room @ ladies venture | akash hotel living room | tibetan flag above the hotel | abmi enjoying the sun | the way through pine forest | tibetan children village of dharamsala | me doing the kora at tsuglag khang monastery

dharamsala #2: snow

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me @ tsuglag khang temple after the snowy candle march night

growing up in a tropical country like indonesia, seeing snow is a rare opportunity. i was twenty eight years old when i saw my first snow and i was extremely happy to see it first time in dharamsala. it welcome us lightly the first morning and was raining hard at our first night in dharamsala. but the next morning was such a beautiful morning, the sun shine and left us the snow from last night. therefor i decided to share the snow of dharamsala in this post :)

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moon peak of dharamsala, one of the so many reason i feel like crying missing this place so much

snowy seat at ladies venture – mcleod ganj | the view of moonpeak from our room’s window | ladies venture | drying the yak blanket and our gloves, even our boots | icy pink rose | clear view of moonpeak

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this is how we have our coffee that cold morning while wifi-ing at a nearby cafe

dharamsala #1: the candle march

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the tibetan shops were all closed the first day we arrived in dharamsala. another monk immolation happened in tibet, the atmosphere of mourning felt all over the town. we went for an afternoon mass prayer and walked the candle march that night from tsuglag khang (dalai lama’s temple). the tibetan community of dharamsala were all out in the street and walk the march around town. snow was pouring hard.

i can’t describe my feeling. being among the monks and the tibetan people. among the chants, prayer and shout. i don’t know the language. but the language of the heart touched my very soul. i cry on the street of dharamsala and among its people. i understand this longing of going home to lhasa, i wish one day to be in lhasa and to be among those mountain once again in this very life. i thankful that universe brought me to dharamsala on that very moment. to cry among them.

never in my life i feel to be in such in a right place. that there is no coincidence like dagpo rinpoche said, where your wheel of life and karma brought you back to where you belong, to your home and you are born a new to the path of dharma. i walked myself among the march, lighting my own candle. my own very name: dian. the candle that would never die. that hope and goodness would never die.

om mane padme hum

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the path to dharamsala

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majnu ka tila, new delhi

the first step when we went inside majnu ka tila is to realized that we are not in india. it was raining and damp that afternoon. we took the metro and stop at the kashmiri gate. took an auto and drop around majnu ka tila, called lobsang to pick us up at the front of majnu ka tila alleyway. i can’t help to remember (again) that this area look like janti area in jogjakarta.

we went inside majnu ka tila and transferred to the world of tibetan. buying a bottle of water and getting stared at because i use english (i look local, oh well). drink our first yak butter tea. buy our first yak wool blankets which proof to be one of the most useful things in our trip.

we took our first indian bus ride at 6 PM. it would take us 12 hours to reach dharamsala. i prefer not to see how in the hell he was driving the bus to reach that distance in half a day. we had to stop two times to have dinner – a delicious chicken curry – and an early morning chai before going up to the mountains. we reach dharamsala when it was still pitch black around 6 AM, took a taxi of a nice old indian driver and settle ourselves at ladies venture, mcleod ganj. we slept at the kashmiri hotel, basically freezing until it was time for breakfast at 9 AM. being an island people surely needed time to adjust with north indian winter.

dharamsala welcome us that morning with a light snow. exactly at the moment that we have our breakfast outside in the lodging patio. the first snow of our lives.

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abmi first yak butter tea | prayer wheel by an old tibetan lady in the bus | dalai lama picture at our bus to dharamsala

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i had dream this trip to dharamsala over and over. and i can’t help myself to feel i am at the right place. it felt that i’ve been away for so long, walk so many path, passing so many journey and finally come home. something fulfill my heart and i can’t explain it to anyone. accept that i’m here, in my right place, in my own heart and i don’t need anything else.