Apakah iya keheningan memberi jarak di antara kita? Atau justru ia yang menjadi penghubung? Karena nyatanya jembatan kayu yang hampir putuslah yang menghubungkan, bukan memisahkan. Begini. Keheningan ini bagai sungai di bawah jembatan. Keheningan ini terus mengalir bagai aliran sungai yang ujungnya entah di mana. Keheningan ini entah bermuara pada sapa yang mana. Keheningan ini seolah memberi jarak agar rindu bertempat. Rindu ini bagai jembatan kayu, membentang di antara kita seolah menjadi penghubung. Namun sayang, tidak jua kita terhubung. Tak satupun dari kita berdaya untuk melintasi jembatan itu. Tak satupun dari kita ikhlas melipat rindu. Hingga tiba saatnya rindu benar-benar berlaku bagai jembatan usang yang rapuh. Putus tebawa arus. Yang tersisa pada akhirnya hanyalah keheningan. Keheningan yang konstan.
It was your ID card you wore every day when you went to work before your pension period (2009). I brought your ID card when I had to move to my boarding house, to Jatinangor. I put it on my desk and made it such a monitor for my own self. It’s such a reminder for me, telling me what I promised to the one in it, to you 4 years ago. In this picture, your hair, your moustache, and your beard were all black. But now, there’s an unpleasantness staying in my heart every time I look at you when I’m home. It saddens me to see your white hair and touch your wrinkled skin. You’re no longer young and you’re getting older; things I often forget when enjoying my own life. I’m not kinda girl who always says romantic words but this is my way to love you. And today is your birthday. Honestly, I don’t know your exact age now and I don’t want to do math to know your age. Knowing you’re already old is enough for me. Happy birthday, Bapak. May God always protect you. May God love you as much as you love me or even more. -Your (always) little daughter. (at Jatinangor)

It was your ID card you wore every day when you went to work before your pension period (2009). I brought your ID card when I had to move to my boarding house, to Jatinangor. I put it on my desk and made it such a monitor for my own self. It’s such a reminder for me, telling me what I promised to the one in it, to you 4 years ago. In this picture, your hair, your moustache, and your beard were all black. But now, there’s an unpleasantness staying in my heart every time I look at you when I’m home. It saddens me to see your white hair and touch your wrinkled skin. You’re no longer young and you’re getting older; things I often forget when enjoying my own life. I’m not kinda girl who always says romantic words but this is my way to love you. And today is your birthday. Honestly, I don’t know your exact age now and I don’t want to do math to know your age. Knowing you’re already old is enough for me. Happy birthday, Bapak. May God always protect you. May God love you as much as you love me or even more. -Your (always) little daughter. (at Jatinangor)