On Forbidden Love Once Again

I watched this movie last Friday night. It was called “Berbagi Suami”, which means Sharing Husband. The story was narrated by three women, who actually are not connected with each others. They have one thing in common though, they have to share their husband with other woman. They are somehow trapped in polygamy.

The movie was interesting because the theme is actually very close to our society, yet not a cliché, as we usually avoid discussing this sensitive topic. Why this is sensitive is because most people relate this problem with Islam, which explicitly excuses (not allows I would rather say!) polygamy. But Nia Dinata, the director, in my opinion has successfully presented it free from prejudice of any religion. She somehow managed to prove that this is all about selfishness and hypocrisy, rather than an issue of any religion. She pictured it (successfully) how inconvenient it is to have that kind of family, for both side: the man, let alone the woman. Although it was a comedy in genre (and we were laughing as a matter of fact), the message was clear that it was about tragedies.

The first woman is a doctor, who is smart, religious and has independent career, married to a successful, who symbolically looks religious, businessman. They have this looks like a perfect marriage, with an adorable son, who would then turn into a smart but cynical young guy. He loves his mother, but would always criticize her for being too submissive, and silent despite having discovered the not-so-favorable hobby of the husband, who ironically always behaves faultlessly at home. The mother defends herself that she simply follows what’s according to the religion, and that she does it for love. Meanwhile, she cries in silence and eventually becomes immune of heart-break pain. In the end, the husband, dying of heart attack, wishes to come and be treated at her home. For a moment she felt as if she is the winner. But having him home this time means she has to face the reality openly that she’s sharing the husband with other women (yes, the husband has more than two wives in fact). She swallows her pain, and presents herself always as a devoted wife, until the husband died peacefully after delivering one important message to his son, that he regretted the way he has chosen. The fun doesn’t worth the headache, he said. But in the funeral, when everybody was just about to leave, comes a teenager girl with a baby, crying and calling the husband. While we were all laughing, most of us were probably asking: can we really trust man’s words?

The second case was even weirder. An already too crowded family with two wives under the same roof, was expecting another one, because they are too busy with the kids, and the husband is “thirsty” again. Here, religion was never discussed, and love was something absurd. They all take the situation for granted, and enjoy what’s only left, the pleasure from sex (which belongs exclusively to the husband and the less-sensitive first wife) and the companionship among the wives (so much for a sweet lemon). The second and third wives run away together after they realize that they love each other more than they love the husband.

In the third story I was expecting that the woman will get the advantage this time. A very lovely young girl was asked to marry her boss. The guy (according to him) cannot leave his wife no matter how much he (according to him) loves the girl, and no matter how unhappy he was (according to him also) with his wife. Since they are Catholics, the guy has to forge a new ID with single status in order to marry her. He gives her a condominium, and treats her perfectly whenever they are together. Having all what she needs to call for a convenient life seems just perfect for her. She soon realizes that she really loves him, and would actually be happy without all the facilities anyway. But it turns out it’s only for a short period of time. When the first wife finds out, she kicks her (literally) out of her apartment provided by the husband. The husband came to see her the following day, only to say goodbye, with convincing tears and a bulky envelope of money. The family is leaving for the US! Although I thought that the guy truly loves her, still it’s a nonsense. Once again the woman suffers most.

In the above stories the victims were mostly the women, but the most victim of all is actually love, people abuse it! They justify stupid things, hurting themselves and others in the name of love. On the other hand, people refuse to settle with love because of things they consider more important, yet they can’t just leave it alone.

In the mood for blogging

I'm feeling so many things, but not able to let it all out. When writing seems to be the only way out, I can't find words to describe them.

I always think being able to write is cool. This idea gets even stronger when Carrie Bradshaw suddenly looks especially cool with her old apple notebook. I like reading, thus an ex boyfriend told me that I should try writing. I, on the hope that he was right about his proposition that anybody who like reading must be able to write well, did not jump to start my writing attempt, always with the feeling of not-in-the-mood-yet.

The truth is, I think writers are born. And if I were born to be one, I didn't need to wait for any special moment to start writing. So it was a matter of confidence, because I didn't to find it out at last that I can't really be a good writer. But even so, I was still obssesed with it. I tried many times to write diaries but never managed to have more than three posts.

And so I started this blog. In fact it was more for my friend Tisha, whom I knew is a damn good writer, that I started to explore blogging. And then we each created our own blogs, because I thought it wouldn't be fair for her if we both do posting with such a wide gap in quality of the posts, for one same blog hihihi.... Afterwards more of my friends strated up their blogs too.

Soon I found out that I lack of talent. Although my mind has always been full of imaginations I couldn't really express them well in writing. I also have some kind of barrier which prevent me from putting everything in blacks on whites. Meanwhile Jo-Ann was doing great with her poetry blog and got invited to the US to read out some of her works. Nyai's was also so rich in content I couldn't believe she's not starting her writing career professionally!

I decided (like I said in one of the previous posts) to stop blogging. For quite a long time I did not even have a slight intention to do it again. But then somehow I got it back. For some times I had every now and then ideas to write, but didn't have time to really sit and write them up. Only this couple of days that I finally do it. But this is it, finally I realize that I can't really "write". My stuff is always very so-so and shallow.

Recently I just edited my thesis as it will be published in a public finance journal (it's just a matter of luck, believe me!). In the process I realize how poor it was, I just wish that the committee won't scrutinize it deep enough to recognize its substandard quality hahaha... (I can't wait to spend the money, you see hehe)

Anyway, blogging for this past couple of days has been fun. It actually released me of "kibun-ga-warui", not to call it stress hehe...

On the cheek kiss

I have mixed feelings about my mentor who was my also my sensei, my supervisor as well as the person who actually sent me to Japan. I admire him for his brightness (gosh...such an old guy with sharp memory he is), hate him for his high standard I felt I could never met, and eventually come to acceptance that I love him like a father (or grandfather in his viewpoint;p). He always tells me that I look alike his granddaughter, whom I believe is a total Japanese... now how can a Japanese kid looks like me?;)

Last Sunday I had lunch with him, our (used-to-be) program coordinator and other Hitotsubashi alumni. We had that kind of get-together before and I always did it with the feeling more like doing an assignment from school. On that Sunday, although I was the one doing the arrangement (still with a feeling like I'm doing an assignment), I myself expected no more than a dry chat for courtesy that one should does once in a while, which worths a lavish free lunch.

But when he entered the room and hugged and kissed me on the cheek I felt a different warm already. Maybe it was my state of feeling or it was real sincerity I usually missed when dealing with them, I don't know. And then the conversation flowed nicely.

When one senior annoyingly asked me when I will get married because Javanese families would not like an old girl to be their daughter in law, I said I wouldn't like that kind of family as my in law anyway. He supported me exactly in a way how I needed it, and in an way that shutted that senior up ;). And when he told me not to forget inviting him when I finally get married, I really felt his sincere care.

After two years of avoidance and restrain, I now feel a real nice-to-see him feeling eventually. He will be fully retired by the end of this month (March 2006). I'm glad that I have the chance to know him this well and can now really look forward to seeing him again in the future. He has become one of my good memory about Japan.