first published in Batam Post, 17.09.06
After finishing his breakfast he walked slowly towards the veranda. He walked to the birdcage in the left corner. As soon as he started to approach it, the bird greeted him: ‘morning, sir. Morning, sir.’ The myna lifted up its right claw and shook its head a couple of times. It then repeated its greeting. The old man happily whispered, ‘morning…’.
Then the planted his buttocks into the rattan chair and sat facing the myna bird which watched on in amazement. The old man continued to smile, fitting in with his famous nickname – ‘The Smiling Strongman’ - who likes cages. He loves birds – but those which are kept in cages. He’d loved them since he was a child. He and he still loved them now, during his old age.
He had never forgotten the first time he caught a Java finch by using sap. He threw the bird into a small cage it protested like crazy, flapping all over the place. But he couldn’t have cared less. He had even started to smile. Unsatisfied with using sap to catch birds, he switched to using a slingshot. Occasionally, the bird would be injured or almost killed, but nonetheless, he’d throw them into the cage. ‘Cop that!’, he’d say every time. He’d always be smiling and his eyes would be shining with satisfaction.
He not only caught birds using his own traps and slingshots, but also through swapping ideas with other bird lovers. Another kind of activity, that not only made him feel satisfied, but also brought in goods and money. Catching birds from one end of Indonesia to the other was very profitable. To do so, he needed a large amount of space – both indoors and outdoors. Most importantly was that the birds remained in their cages and could be kept under surveillance. Under his watchful gaze. Always accompanied, of course, by his smile. Those who looked after his birds, whether his relations or his employees were always kept busy. They worked beneath the gaze of the strongman’s eyes.
It seemed as if everything was going orderly. Everything seemed relaxed and secure. Until the winds of change began to blow. There was a foul air and epidemic on the on the one hand, and on the other, there was the disaster of him losing his sense . The atmosphere changed quickly and dramatically. The orders that he gave only made matters more chaotic.
Many of the caged birds escaped. Some were unlucky and died. The only one that remained its cage was the loyal myna bird.
A few people who knew him were surprised, while others could comprehend what was going on. Some had even long predicted that this would happen. One has to remember that during the great era, when he was known as ‘the smiling strongman’, he had done some amazing things. At that time, he was calmly hunting, trapping and catching hundreds of thousands of innocent people. He then locked them up in concentration camps. It was never known how many people were killed just like that – as if one was shooting a bird. Nor does anyone know how many were buried alive after digging their own mass grave.
All of this was done beneath his watchful gaze and ever-present smile. He only did it to prove how powerful he was and to prove how much he was feared. Life was simple.
So, it was only the myna bird that was still friends with him. It was a symbol of loyalty and subservience to him. But, was it really loyal to him? It was in a cage after all. When the man’s time would come, the bird itself wouldn’t worry about stopping breathing. Moments before the old man’s last breath.
In front of the large building with the large front yard, the sound of voices became louder and louder. The sounds were very different from any other previous sound. It was the first time he had heard that kind of voice since he had stopped being able to go where he wanted. Except for when he was out on the veranda, next to the birdcage, he would always be under tight supervision.
The man smiled when he heard the myna bird call out ‘not good. Not good.’ Whatever happens, though, he still felt like a ‘strongman’ who could face any situation while smiling. He knew that he still held the most powerful weapon: lies. Lies would cover up his condition of his health. He claimed that he was sick. And sick people can’t be taken to court. To strengthen his claims, he started to act as if he was truly sick. He couldn’t have cared less for all the crimes he had committed and for the demands the demonstrators were yelling about in the nearby streets.
And right up until that moment, sitting down, facing the myna bird, he was still trying to prove that he was sick. An act of falsehood that could be over as soon as he was visited by the Angel of the Death and Lord Time. Two judges that no one can escape from.
Translated by Andy Fuller, Richmond, 2.10.06
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