Joko Pinurbo, Pacarkecilku (My Little Girlfriend), Magelang: Indonesiatera, 2002.
Going Home
This May I made time to go home.
Just as my father asked: ‘Grandma misses you.
Come home!’
Sometimes time is so simple:
Mum was setting up sunset on the window.
Grandpa was rolling out the rain on the porch.
Dad was picking me up from some train station I
don’t know where.
Who’s in the bathroom?
The sound of children singing.
Grandma is being dead.
Her body is laid out peacefully in the
Prayer room and is watched over her favourite dolls.
‘Hey! That bastard has come back!’ said the toy
lion which still looked fierce and shook when I
stroked its fur.
Dad still hasn’t arrived. My taxi is already
waiting out the front.
Goodbye, grandma. Goodbye to everything.
Take care at home. My regards to father.
On the way to the station, I saw father
sitting in a becak. He looked older. The becak
was moving quickly. From the window of the taxi;
I kissed my hand and then waved;
he also kissed his hand and then waved to me, while
telling me to take care.
Time was so simple that I didn’t know
that drops of time were melting
from my eyes. ‘Your late grandma was
still able to catch this taxi yesterday’, said the
quiet taxi driver. He was an
old teacher of mine.
