The story of Cracker Watch

in life •  7 years ago  (edited)

image
Memories, said adverbs, are sometimes memorable but often so. As the season grew older, the years went on, Ndung, my best friend, still panting, snoring. His knees buckled, forming a bow with his forehead firmly attached to the pitiful table before him, his parent's desk. The chair he had been occupying for many years now began to fray and crack. The situation is so forthright, exactly the same as my friend Ndung. He ignored the hair on his head, released just crawling like a bush, awut-awutan. The clothes he was wearing had been attached to his body for months, never once did he care. Every day tears flowing, forming a puddle on the table that was pitiful in front of him. He does not care about anything at all. But if there's something he cares about, it's a watch he puts on the table so it looks always graceful. She looked at the watch every morning with her eyes never blinking, though her tears still flowed. The next time he stroked the watch with a deep emotion, smiling in a way that seemed to me sad, a sad smile.
About the watch.

It is somewhat complicated for the size of an object that was created to simply measure time, rather oddly or I prefer to call it unique. That is, the watch he kept long ago was slowly becoming part of his life treatise. Throughout life, every precisely pkl. 17.00, the watch will always stop beating for 5 minutes, silent. He seems to be asleep for a while. Always so and will continue to be so, every day. Perhaps the person who created the watch had made a mistake. I have no idea! At first Ndung, my best friend, always tried to fix it so that the watch was right again. But after knowing his nature, Ndung no longer ever do it. Until now, every single day he will always be five minutes late from the real time. For a week he will be 35 minutes late! That's why Si Ndung never wear it, just put on that pitiful table. Anyway, a long needle that shows a count of seconds is always uncertain. The needle always lengthens and shortens irregularly as long as it moves around. Whenever it stops, the points left by the needle's tip are connected to a line, then a loop is formed, a mess. A pounding circle, worried. He seemed always in a hurry, looking like he was breathing hard. I told you, the watch was weird! However, my friend Ndung still cares for him with a passionate love.

"Ndung, what do you keep it for?"
Ndung smiled bitterly as he continued to look at the watch, not a word he said. When the night will come with the most eerie silence, my friend Ndung, open the window of his room. He let the moonlight into his room, then he would hold the watch tightly while chanting long prayers. The people who had seen him consider Ndung no longer natural, he was half crazy. But I knew that for him it was a fragment of memories that remained, part of a scattered past. The watch is a past that he strives for always to be remembered, but also with all his might to be forgotten. That's why he still loves the watch so much.

This afternoon, exactly pkl. 17.00, I went back to that hill. A dim star reigns just above a crumpled white cross. It was the most silent twilight I had ever known on that hill. The whole hillside was silent, it was as if dead. There was not a single sound, just a whisper of a breeze that probably brought news of an ever-grim parting on the foliage. This is the most chilling loneliness I've ever had. My voice demanded, the silence felt increasingly tense, only nanar persist in the eyes, looking real visible that was vague. My hands shivering, the nerves all over my body stiffen. It was like crying and scattering all the nerves in the chest, spilling and piling on the rocks on the hill. I could not help seeping blood from the scratches of the wound all over my heart, which turned the tears on the bends in my eyelids, scattered. I took a deep breath and exhaled it very slowly, hoping that it would blend in the twilight of the evening wind, so that part of me would share this painful suffering thing all over the hill, let the hill know that the melody of life is sometimes heart-wrenching. For I have long suffered and suffered many times for the sake of enduring the yearning which is increasingly unbearable.

On that hill, time sometimes passed too fast or from time to time he crawled very slowly. Like this afternoon, as well as another afternoon before, I had plunged into the past, huddled in a corner in a long time ago, the hardest period I had struggled to forget, a time that I missed too deeply, it was like to always remember it. I understood correctly, memories will never be the same or occasionally he will never return forever, even once. That's why I miss that time a lot.

Every now and then, I remember you
Although often only in a dream
At that time with a syahdu, whether aware or not
You then smile in the most mesmerizing way, so beautiful !! I admire him till now. Realizing, I just remember that now there are no more people like you
You're gone. Kayendra.

I then put the stanza of the poem on a stone that stood firmly on Kayendra's head, just next to a dim star and a crisscross white cross.RIP. I then left it with a slow move. I feel like there's no one else on earth, just me alone. The whole of nature is no longer on my side. How painful.

"Nana, your watch is broken?"
Mom found the watch lying on my desk was not beating. I did not answer him, just replied with the saddest smile I ever had. I know, that's right. 5pm. I felt very sad, my chest cavity rumbling, causing pain in my heart. I quickly passed my mother.
Still bright in my memory. the time was right at 17.00, the twilight was spoiled with the hill, that was the last twilight we could ever celebrate together.
"So you will never forget me", he said while giving me the watch. Her smile is so soft, it's like to hug her tightly, until there are no more memories left. Now I understand, maybe the watch occasionally also remembers Kayendra, to look always restless.

Go to sleep, Kayendra
Fajarmu waiting There is still faithful morning
May you be calm!

Ndung my best friend, tells the story about the watch while shedding tears. How she missed her lover Kayendra.

Authors get paid when people like you upvote their post.
If you enjoyed what you read here, create your account today and start earning FREE STEEM!