Death does not come when a
body is too exhausted to live
Death comes, because the brilliance inside of us can only be contained for so long.
We do not die. We pass on, pass on the life burning through our throats
Death comes, because the brilliance inside of us can only be contained for so long.
We do not die. We pass on, pass on the life burning through our throats
.... .
Michael
Lee̶ ─Pass On
Four years ago, in the month of May, I never thought that he will pass
away in the age of eighty. He looks still healthy in his age, however. Walking
to the farm every morning, he brought his heavy hoe with him. He used to hoe
the farm and plant some vegetables plan there. He had often said to me: It’s always peaceful to be here, I can hear the music of the wind sounds like
Tayub**, and I had pity on him, for these days it was something rare to see
that the play of that Javanese culture. He usually sat under the tree which is
in the edge of the river when the sun got higher. From there, he could keep an eye on his farm.
It was a summer season where a flock of sparrow birds attack the farm
intensively. He will never let any bird to touch her plant. It was always I who
sent him his lunch. I usually brought a fishing rod with me. He had taught me a
great deal about fishing.
In the 22th of May, at noon,
as usual, I walked to his farm to bring his lunch. I saw him sat under the
tree. But there was something uncanny about him that time. When I called his
name, he didn’t answer. I thought he was sleeping. As I approached his body, I
saw his face was very grey and massive. There he lay, sleeping like he wouldn’t
wake up anymore, I thought. For some moment, I let him sleep. Then, when I
thought that he had slept long enough, I tried to wake him up. Softly I
whispered in his ear. But he didn’t give an answer nor did he make any
movement.
It was the third times I
whispered in his ear. But, still, there was no answer or a single movement. I
started to shake his body, again, and again. But, still, there was no sign of
life. If he was dead, I thought, I wouldn’t feel nothing when I touch the artery of his neck, for I knew that when someone had dead, the beat of his heart
would stop. Then I touched his front neck, trying to feel his heart beat. No, I
wouldn’t say he was exactly . . . but there was something queer . . . at that
time. I can’t feel any beat at all. Panicky, I left her body and I run as fast
as I can to my house.
I returned with some men and
women with me. One of them is a doctor who lived next to my house. We let the
doctor to check at him.
The doctor looked at me for a
while. I felt that his eyes were examining me. After looking at me, the doctor
said to me “Well, the breath already went out of him. He had a beautiful death,
God be praised”.
After I heard what the doctor
had said, I felt my soul was rejecting the fact. He was not dead! He just
looked as if he was asleep, he just looked that peaceful. But I can’t do
something to change the reality. They brought his corpse to the mourning house.
In the evening my father took me with him to
visit the house of mourning. It was after sunset; but the sky looked darker
than usual. My father and I entered the house, then. We walked quietly towards
the open door of the dead-room. A silence took possession of the little room
before all the mourners prayed for him.
That was unforgettable moment
in my life, to see things like that.
*To the memory of my grandfather
** Tayub or tayuban is
typical Javanese traditional arts, especially in Central Java and East Java.
Tayub is a term used by the Javanese in the art of dance accompaniment with one
unit of Javanese gamelan music of percussion, kenong, kempol, suwukan gongs,
trumpets, drums and angklung. In addition, the dancers Tayub usually also
hummed songs or poems that contain Java as couplets wise counsels, are like the
advice to foster home as well.. This art is very popular among the Java
community because it looks attractive, dynamic, aesthetic and expressive. 
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