I am a man. I do not care about the meaning of masculinity. For me, to display the totality in the role of a necessity. Seen as a Bujang Gadi demands my artistic skills. Take a part in the series of randai. The art tradition of a populist but no less fascinating role in the majestic theater. When I move, it will always create eye traces.
This eye pervades every friction of violin, drum (traditional) stamping and blowing of serunai. Inhale the harmony tones as a confidence generator to appear completely.
“Did you enjoy being bujang gadi?”
Frequently asked questions from friends or audiences who see the totality of my performances.
“Enjoy?”
I did not dare to answer. Over time I will be doubtful with my choice.
“Seemed you enjoy being bujang gadi, then, you will lose your virility!”
The stigma is increasingly pervasive and it flow the energy into my body. Especially, on which the applause and the laughter of the audience welcome my funny performances. The habitual and pleasure habits of being in the role make my blood flow drag. Pull out to act like a male or a womanhood role as a bujang gadi. Kebaya, long cloths, skirts, dresses, and scarves that often accompany me playing a role, I always breathe the aroma. The a,+roma that is capable of running blood suckers that I can not help sulking pleasure.
The energy of that sensation increases when my friends and I form a circle around each other. Dancing by singing Malay hum. The twisted rhymes that have a deeply rooted meaning to this Randai area. The pleasure I experience becomes evaporated when living the reality of life. I am afraid to enjoy the sensation back after every plays. Did I decide just to be a bujang gadi which was not only temporary for a moment.
In my silent room, I looked at the kebaya, the long cloth, the skirt, the dress, and the scarf I alsways wear for Randai. I keep hands to put on my bed. I used it all with different feeling. Look at me in front of a dull mirror.
“Beautiful …” Spontaneous speech coming out of my man’s mouth.
The mouth of a tenor-nosed man now I think slowly turns into a soprano. I keep stroking my kebaya with all my heart. Enjoy the depths of heart. Can this pleasure continue?
“Yes, I can …”
I was surprised with the shadow in the mirror saying that. Looking for a sound source. Nothing. Only the walls of the house were stacked and the cool dull mirrors. Either anxious or afraid. Wrinkle in sleep. A deep sleep that bubbled up the resistance of my male hormone and my imaginary hormone. Sleep that feels long because the sediment of mind raging with hormone struggle.
Throughout the day with the time and friends I usually walk normally, but this time there is another smell. The scents that lead me to be like a women. The scent that made me rustle to see my boyfriends.
“What happen, bujang gadi?” Greet my boyfriend as I stared at him for long. Istighfar remark came out of my lips mouth. Between fear and lust pulling the trajectory of my intentions.
The performance of Randai invited our group. I was asked to be bujang gadi again.
“We really should be powerful this time,” our motion coach said.
I was reminded to look like a previous appearances.
“Remember, Bujang gadi is one of our randai keys!”
The compliment made me reaffirm my belief in my choice.
Yes. It’s the best choice. I will continue to live as a bujang gadi with pleasure.
Come back to males night I passed, bujang gadi in randai be prima donna stage. The rhymes for my appearance were not ejected until the next day. But it turns out there is someone who with her inner softened voice refused my choice to become a bujang gadi. Yes, only the inner voice, not the voice of speech rejection. She is my mother, emak.
“Speak up please mak, why just always keep silent. I need an explanation with words, why when I perform randai, emak always looks dislike it. ”
Mother remained silent.
“How long does it mean?”
“Well … Mak can only say. Emak does not like Bujang is exaggerated on perform. I was shame, many people are talking about Bujang where male or female? ”
Mother’s answer made me smaller and angled in the deepest corner. The deepest inner voices asked me to cover my ears for the words of my mother.
Rebellious? I don’t know.
I tried to gather all my courage to fight obedience. Running from people who are blocking even though they belong to those who love me. I do not want to accumulate sins, it’s better to bring these legs and bodies to those like me. I do not want to put out a screaming word of my choice. All of this blood was cold as I joined my friends who were very supportive of me. Do not mind the “strangeness” of my appearance.
“Be yourself,” support my friends. Sentence that made me strengthen myself to be myself as Bujang Gadi.
Since then, from the appearance of Randai that I follow from village to village penetrated into the city and even neighboring country. Praise was on my appearance. I really enjoy. Years of art from the stage to the stage made me preoccupation of being a blood that has been flesh as a bujang gadi. Various awards I received as a steady art performer with his profession.
Yet it always seems that there is a flash of sharp eyes that I do not know comes from where I look. Just a moment and a glance. But I could make a split second of my appearance disturbed by the flash of the eye.
Curious about all my acts and energy. The flashes began to interfere with my appearance. Finally I was stabbed by the flash so I can not remember what to do when it was my turn to appear. I was just silent, forgot the scenario and motion. The sparks were shackling my legs.
“Bujang, come home please.”
The voice, the familiar voice. Emak .
Tulisan Terkait
Bambang Kariyawan Ys., a teacher. WA: 08117595971.