Indonesian politics in 2014….
Enough said about that! I tell you I can never say proudly:” I like the country’s politics.” The politicians and their maneuvers are even more disgusting to me. The news is getting worse just to show how cunning these folks may become. The media outlets are super biased and can hardly publish objective pieces of news worth reading. Metro TV belongs to Surya Paloh, TV One Abu Rizal Bakrie (the investor of Path, to remind you), and so on.
And you don’t know how much my gratitude I feel inside me is when I learned no one in my immediate families is a politician. Even though he or she runs for a political vacancy, I hope he or she will lose after all. Because I strongly believe that no human beings on earth can be saved from the destructive effect of prolonged.
You can liken Indonesian politicians and rulers to Frodo Bagins (correct me if I am wrong in the spelling, I haven’t read it). Aside from their petite figures just like Frodo, Indonesian politicians are often inclined to forget the reason why they have to work: Indonesian people. When Frodo wears the ring, he feels he turns into someone else. Someone with enormous power. Something he never has imagined before as a midget. But the ring names him the Lord of all. That ring is influence, power, authority that politicians are now fighting for. One can insult their peers, mock their colleagues, sacrifice their longtime friendship or even blood ties just because of different political views. Sickening? It might be.
However, that is so natural. Nothing is odd about being zoon politicon or animals who do politics (unless you are an amoeba or a solitary single cell creature).
Well, even in yoga, there is some degree of this political stuff going on on and off the mat. You have to believe me there are yogis and yoginis who hold grudge to each other and make scenes at our very supposedly pacifist teacher trainings. They literally want to grab one another’s students. I saw with my own eyes how two yoga gurus were making scenes and how I too become one victim of one yogi’s unexplained, groundless hatred. Simple jealousy or envy may be too childish but what else can you come up with in your head when someone refuses to talk to you even a single word?
Oh I said “love-hate”, and that was the hate part.
Now, let me continue with this sweeter chunk of story.
So that was March last year when I had to let myself be adultnapped abroad by my employer to the neighboring country Singapore. As we touched down, we were amazed by the landscape which looked considerably cleaner and more well organized. Indonesians, I must tell you, can never love Singapore more. It is a place to spend their meager amount of bonus and salary and savings. A place of prestige, because Jakarta gets too affordable for them to buy things in.
A fellow Indonesian journalist ( I can safely say I am a journo as well, the much tamer and more sedentary version nevertheless) who works for a newspaper business led by Dahlan Iskan said,”I love to see and enjoy Singapore but…”she sighed,”if I have to work here as a journo, I could be stressed out.”
I frowned,”Why is it so?”
“You can imagine, in the country as small, relatively crime-free and stable as this, there is not much cool thrilling stuff to be reported to our readers. Reporters may end up writing news about power outage in an apartment block or trivial accidents causing brief traffic jams in some streets,”she told me while gazing through the taxi window, leaving the magnificent and hectic Changi International Airport.
So if you want to write more stories or start a new media business, Indonesia could be a good place to start. There is evidently endless supply of political dramas, ethnicity-related tensions, natural calamities, regional conflicts, family feuds and bloodsheds, injustice, social madness, economic discrepancies, and the list goes on…
Speaking of Indonesia presidential election this year, my comment would be:
“May the best man win.”
I don’t pretty much care about the possibility that Prabowo may be with the Islamic hard liners prohibiting yoga practice in public (because my practice is really private; on my own, from and for myself) or the likelihood that Jokowi would be the puppet president of our legendary former female president Megawati Sukarnoputri. Despite that, I commit to myself I will vote on the D day no matter what happens.