DAY 3: A Memory

 

I was crying, crying out happy tears. Overwhelmed by the feeling of honor and gratitude. Thoughts were wandering, 'Do I even deserve this? Is this even real? No, I don't want to find the answers now, I am just really happy.'

-

"Please, write this down on your book. I give you time." said Mr. Budi. I was stuck in the middle of, I'm not gonna lie, an actual tedious physics class. I was pondering on how to release myself out of this hell when a senior knocked on the door. "Excuse me, can I ask for a time, please? The following names I will mention, please follow me..." he paused for one second and "...Thaniya, Michael, Christofer, and Legacy." There my name is. He mentioned it I believe. "Thank God" I whispered. Later did I learn that it was the beginning of everything - everything about this memory.

Papa said just go for it. Mama a bit hesitated. I made the move, certainly after asking God for an accord. I was going to sign up for this pageant, to be an ambassador of  literacy - book, library, reading - and Betawi. The second year of competing, after failing on my first - maybe that's the reason why Mama a bit disagreed. But that decision has led me to something that I have never dared to imagine, a place that is new but strange - one of those places I believe, is the stage in the photos.

I will begin here, a night before the grand final of Abang None Buku Jakarta Barat 2019, August 15. The day was long, surely, a day before the grand final. Let me repeat. Grand. Final. A day full of preparations, barely sleep and eat, severe back pain, leg cramps, drained mentally, and to be real honest, you don't actually want to go for a grand final after just even experiencing one day before it. But I tell you, this is the part of the memory: sacrifices and pain. The day has finally switched to August 16. An end to one day but a welcome to another challenging day. After having, thankfully, 3 hours of sleeping - idk I don't think I will even call it sleep :D - as predicted, it's not a fun, happy, blissful morning. (I mean, what do you expect from a long full day and just get a not-so-sleep for 3 hours?) But you are not there for complaining about sleeping hours. I went through another preparations, rehearsals. I once more had to be able to create my own battery or even power bank of energies. And I didn't necessarily create them by myself. Mama was phone calling me in the middle of a frenetic pace of activities. "I will be there 30 mins before the show starts. Listen to me, don't forget to pray and surrender. I love you." That's how my battery and power bank have been charged. I didn't expect much, I kept telling myself to just do my bestest and surrender, and I couldn't help myself to mumble on this one beautiful song every time I feel anxious: God's Time (in Indonesia, Waktu Tuhan). It was so close to the beginning of the event. I popped my head off the curtains to see if my parents are present, but obviously my eyes couldn't reach them. I couldn't be more nervous! I kept checking my appearance, I thought if my lips are red enough, my veil stays on place, my dress buttoned, or my accessories are all complete. I started to listen to the major voice from the crowd. My friends, the previous day, confirmed that they would come. I'd wondered if they have arrived. But after all, just a few minutes before putting my feet on the stage and establishing myself to the crowd, I found peace, I remained calm. I was thinking of God. I was thinking about the faith I have to hold strong in this very time. I was thinking about not letting fear dominantly taking up the space in both my mind and heart but instead the grace of God. The feelings were beautiful and until this moment I still am living in a great awe remembering those moments. How God was there in every single step of the way.

The event was held for one or perhaps two hours long, I didn't recognize how fast everything was going. Everyone was racing against time, bustling around backstage, and rushing to get prepared and be displayed on the stage. The time was passing and no one would be aware. Until the result announcement session came into reality. We the Abangs and Nones were standing before all the judges and all our supporters, family, and friends waiting for our name to be called, and clearly I was one of them - to want so much to be called. The scenery from up there was pretty much all white, the stage lights were blocking out our sight to the audience. I could barely see my parents, but I was able to hear all my friends' yell, and from gathering all that information, I learnt where they had seated. Next, everything went pretty fast, per usual. My friends were calling my name greatly audible when one of the judges really declared my name. They were shouting even more powerful. I was distracted, for a moment my eyes were searching for someone - perhaps a committee or a senior - to ask if my name really was announced. Someone next to me has convinced me that it was true about who was just being called: it was me. I walked to the face of the stage where everybody could see me and allow the photographer to capture the moment. Not the memory, because the memory will forever be captured only by myself, a special photographer. Inauguration was happening real quick, I would not even finish to process it. But like the bitter aftertaste after drinking lemonade that will last long, the feelings became more real - or maybe surreal - succeeding the event. When papa reached me on the stage, I was completely bawling. I didn't remember anything but him, my father. He was asking people to take pictures of him and his daughter - I understood later that these pictures were sent to the big family group, proudly posted on his Facebook, and became the profile picture of our family's group. My friends would line up one by one to congratulate and hug me and get a picture with me. They were smiling, some of them were crying, crying out happy tears, joy. I felt my happiness at that moment were not defined by the sash that I just got, the amount of money, or even the title. My happiness was defined by their smiles, their glares contained with contentment they shared with me as if they were telling me "Imma proud papa!", "Imma proud friend!" And I tell you, this is the part of the memory: happiness and gain.