Language: English
This past Thanksgiving, I was invited over to a friend's place for dinner. There, I watched a bunch of cute, tiny (smol) kids running around the house, playing a game of tag or hide-and-seek, you know, whatever kids do for fun.
I love watching kids play, to be honest; laughs so carefree and so content as if the entire world is their playground. Laughs that warm the heart.
"When's the last time I've ever had such laugh?"
For as long as I can remember, I grew up as a very uptight, timid boy. It didn't start that way though. The first few years of my life, I was just like these kids: as cheerful and as innocent. I remember having the biggest smile in the whole wide world (or at least that's what the photo albums show). My childhood was memorable.
As painful as it is, death doesn't wait for you to grow up. I had to learn it the hard way.
I woke up to the morning of April 21st, 2004. It was a Wednesday, so I got to be ready for another day at school. Except, I didn't go to school that day. I didn't know why at first, but, I'll take a holiday any day. I was thrilled, until my mom broke the news later that morning.
"Your grandpa just passed away last night."
I couldn't understand it at first. I didn't even know he was sick. He was looking okay when we visited him last summer break.**
Immediately, my older brother broke into tears. I've never seen him cry before.
I didn't know what I was thinking back then, but I tried to console him. I told him that grandpa passing means our entire extended family from Jakarta would come home to Pontianak. They would come with toys and present as they always would have.
Furious, he screamed at me, "Are you dumb or something? I don't care about the toys and whatnot, GRANDPA JUST PASSED AWAY."***
That was when the reality sets in: my grandpa is dead. Gone. The very same grandpa I spent countless hours with playing kung-fu with, who would accompany me watching horror movies every Saturday night, and most importantly taught me life lessons and values that I hold dear still to this very day. He who made me laugh and strong and loving. He who made my childhood infinitely better, and I'm never going to meet him again.
I cried. Cried as hard as I could until the tears were dry.
Life has never been the same since then.
Every year after, I would always experience a similar loss. After a while, I kinda got used to death. I cried less. I became emotionless. I was numb inside. I no longer knew how to smile.
Of course, I was 'happy' at times. I would still laugh at jokes and comedy and shows. I was not sick and depressed. It's just that I've lost the smile I had years ago: a kind, big-hearted smile. I couldn't fake one even I try to. Cause I know, deep down, bad things are always gonna happen.
Happiness just doesn't last. Better to shut it out than suffer later.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I eventually joined the Science Olympiad, and it kept me distracted from my past for a good chunk of time. Worst thing about trying out for an International Science Olympiad from Indonesia, though, is that you have to compete in months and months of selection rounds, which basically means skipping school and never hanging out with your friends. However, senior year of high school, I was finally freed from the stresses and burden of Olympiad. I finally attended school for the longest time and never missed even a day off; I finally got to experience being a normal kid.
It was a nice change really. I got to know my classmates better, most of whom I've been disconnected from, and did a lot of stupid stuff that I would otherwise never have done (like pulling stupid pranks and jokes). It was fun while it lasted.
Slowly, I began to realize that I'm beginning to open up and smile a little bit more often. Which was weird, cause I couldn't even pretend a smile after winning an IBO gold, and this was supposedly the pinnacle of my achievement.
Then pi-day came. I knew I was gonna fail, so I tried to wait until I can be alone at home so if that if I cried, no one has to see it. That (thankfully) didn't happen. I was out on a birthday invite, surrounded by my friends, so they wanted to watch my reaction to MIT admission decision.
I was scared. I was embarrassed. But my friends are some of the worst beings in the world, so I had to.
"Dear Valen,
On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to the MIT Class of 2019! ...."
I blurted, "Keterima woi! (I got accepted!)"
And my friends were loud af. It was chaotic. This was 11 p.m at a restaurant, but everyone just kept shouting and screaming and congratulating. Everyone was happy. That's when I finally realized that I was also happy, and I smiled, not for being admitted (well, that too), but for having to have shared a special moment with my close friends and loved ones. That's what I have been missing all along. All this time, I've only been focusing to be number one, thinking that all these medals and accolades would bring me back the joy I've lost to my long grief. But then again, they are just pieces of metal; none of them ultimately matters to the heart. Being happy for/with someone else, however, does, and that is the best, rewarding smile you (I) could ever have.****
2.5 years has passed, and I'm still learning how to smile like a kid again, even when life straight sucks. I've been trying to be a better friend, to always be there for them as they would for me. Yes, it's tough at times, to have to pick between good grades or happiness (which often times don't go together at MIT). I have time though; I'm still young. It'll eventually get better. But for now, I'll just live for every moment, in pursuit of my happiness.
*A tribute to one of my favorite feel-good movies of all time: The Pursuit of Happyness.
** later I found out that he was under remission that summer, that's why he looked 'okay', albeit skinny from all the chemotherapies. He knew, however, his time was ending soon and that was why we visited him that summer, to get together one last time. He had a relapse soon after, cause the cancer had already metastasized, and the rest is history.
*** not sure why, but this was somehow one of the most vivid memories I have of my childhood.
****and to a friend, who once asked me why I seemed happier than I was getting admitted, here is your answer: I was happy for you.
This past Thanksgiving, I was invited over to a friend's place for dinner. There, I watched a bunch of cute, tiny (smol) kids running around the house, playing a game of tag or hide-and-seek, you know, whatever kids do for fun.
I love watching kids play, to be honest; laughs so carefree and so content as if the entire world is their playground. Laughs that warm the heart.
"When's the last time I've ever had such laugh?"
For as long as I can remember, I grew up as a very uptight, timid boy. It didn't start that way though. The first few years of my life, I was just like these kids: as cheerful and as innocent. I remember having the biggest smile in the whole wide world (or at least that's what the photo albums show). My childhood was memorable.
As painful as it is, death doesn't wait for you to grow up. I had to learn it the hard way.
I woke up to the morning of April 21st, 2004. It was a Wednesday, so I got to be ready for another day at school. Except, I didn't go to school that day. I didn't know why at first, but, I'll take a holiday any day. I was thrilled, until my mom broke the news later that morning.
"Your grandpa just passed away last night."
I couldn't understand it at first. I didn't even know he was sick. He was looking okay when we visited him last summer break.**
Immediately, my older brother broke into tears. I've never seen him cry before.
I didn't know what I was thinking back then, but I tried to console him. I told him that grandpa passing means our entire extended family from Jakarta would come home to Pontianak. They would come with toys and present as they always would have.
Furious, he screamed at me, "Are you dumb or something? I don't care about the toys and whatnot, GRANDPA JUST PASSED AWAY."***
That was when the reality sets in: my grandpa is dead. Gone. The very same grandpa I spent countless hours with playing kung-fu with, who would accompany me watching horror movies every Saturday night, and most importantly taught me life lessons and values that I hold dear still to this very day. He who made me laugh and strong and loving. He who made my childhood infinitely better, and I'm never going to meet him again.
I cried. Cried as hard as I could until the tears were dry.
 |
| Mini me and grandpa |
Life has never been the same since then.
Every year after, I would always experience a similar loss. After a while, I kinda got used to death. I cried less. I became emotionless. I was numb inside. I no longer knew how to smile.
Of course, I was 'happy' at times. I would still laugh at jokes and comedy and shows. I was not sick and depressed. It's just that I've lost the smile I had years ago: a kind, big-hearted smile. I couldn't fake one even I try to. Cause I know, deep down, bad things are always gonna happen.
Happiness just doesn't last. Better to shut it out than suffer later.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I eventually joined the Science Olympiad, and it kept me distracted from my past for a good chunk of time. Worst thing about trying out for an International Science Olympiad from Indonesia, though, is that you have to compete in months and months of selection rounds, which basically means skipping school and never hanging out with your friends. However, senior year of high school, I was finally freed from the stresses and burden of Olympiad. I finally attended school for the longest time and never missed even a day off; I finally got to experience being a normal kid.
It was a nice change really. I got to know my classmates better, most of whom I've been disconnected from, and did a lot of stupid stuff that I would otherwise never have done (like pulling stupid pranks and jokes). It was fun while it lasted.
Slowly, I began to realize that I'm beginning to open up and smile a little bit more often. Which was weird, cause I couldn't even pretend a smile after winning an IBO gold, and this was supposedly the pinnacle of my achievement.
Then pi-day came. I knew I was gonna fail, so I tried to wait until I can be alone at home so if that if I cried, no one has to see it. That (thankfully) didn't happen. I was out on a birthday invite, surrounded by my friends, so they wanted to watch my reaction to MIT admission decision.
I was scared. I was embarrassed. But my friends are some of the worst beings in the world, so I had to.
"Dear Valen,
On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to the MIT Class of 2019! ...."
I blurted, "Keterima woi! (I got accepted!)"
A very trimmed down clip of the night
2.5 years has passed, and I'm still learning how to smile like a kid again, even when life straight sucks. I've been trying to be a better friend, to always be there for them as they would for me. Yes, it's tough at times, to have to pick between good grades or happiness (which often times don't go together at MIT). I have time though; I'm still young. It'll eventually get better. But for now, I'll just live for every moment, in pursuit of my happiness.
*A tribute to one of my favorite feel-good movies of all time: The Pursuit of Happyness.
** later I found out that he was under remission that summer, that's why he looked 'okay', albeit skinny from all the chemotherapies. He knew, however, his time was ending soon and that was why we visited him that summer, to get together one last time. He had a relapse soon after, cause the cancer had already metastasized, and the rest is history.
*** not sure why, but this was somehow one of the most vivid memories I have of my childhood.
****and to a friend, who once asked me why I seemed happier than I was getting admitted, here is your answer: I was happy for you.
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