October 17, 2013


For once in my life, I feel terribly lonely.

June 18, 2013

Memenuhi Janji

Memenuhi janji postingan yang lalu, maka postingan kali ini adalah edisi pemenuhan janji ilustrasi karakter Alice in Wonderland: A Mad Tea Party.

click for bigger picture.

March Hare


Mad Hatter


ps: untuk selanjutnya, kayaknya gambar-gambar bisa dibuka di: adyadraws.blogspot.com. Tapi berhubung saya males bikin layoutnya, kapan-kapan aja deh ya~

May 28, 2013

When My Father Went to... Heaven? : A Memoir

Kali ini postingan agak personal. Sebenarnya pengen nulis eulogy. Tapi eulogy terlalu susah, eulogy untuk papa nggak selesai sejak hari pertama nulis itu. Nggak tau kenapa ngegantung. Gue ngerasa gak pantes untuk nulis eulogy.
Jadi kali ini gue mau mosting draft memoir saja. Belum selesai, tapi entahlah, sekali-sekali pengen mosting hal seperti ini.

It was Saturday morning,  when I woke up at eight because my phone buzzing repeatedly. Mom.
I closed my eyes again, picking up the phone, half-consciously. 
"Adya," the tone of my mom's voice was too flat. 
I knew something wrong. 
"Your father's gone" she continued, "go home" 
I remember I didn't feel exactly anything.
My father's dead and I couldn't think about anything. My mind was blank. After the call, I sat in my bed, watching my reflection on the mirror, didn't think about anything, and I couldn't think about any random thing either. But my heart was beating a little bit too fast.

My father's gone. 

I dragged my feet to bathroom and take a quick bath.

When I saw my father's body, I realized that it's real. He's not there.
The physical evidence of him was there, stiff and blue. But I know he wasn't there. The vessel was empty.

He's gone. He's dead. 

When I saw my father's body, I feel a little bit shiver in my spine. My throat felt tight and I couldn't breathe. 

I left the room after saw him briefly and seeking for fresh air as my eyes started to fog and my body was trembling.

I couldn't sleep at night, at my grandmother's house in Surabaya, where my father's body stayed overnight for the next day burial. 
"April is the cruelest month" my brain recited the first line of Eliot's poem. 
Indeed. My father was horribly sick for years, it was two weeks after his birthday, and he had this unusual spirit to live after his 53 birthday. But the universe was cruel. He's gone when his spirit to live was at peak. 
And then I started to wonder.

Where's he now?  He's gone? To nothing? To a void of ... nothingness?
Does heaven or hell really exist? No? I'm not a believer of such thing.

Then I started to realize how consciousness is a precious thing to have as a living member.
The thought of losing consciousness for indefinite amount of time, the thought of  how my existence someday will be vanished, indeed, a little bit scares me. 
And the realization that at some point of time,  I will be forgotten after my death.