Nobody Knows the Trouble I see

Nobody knows the trouble I see, nobody knows my sorrow….
Those phrase was crafted at the gravestone of Soe Hok Gie (before the gravestone was secondly demolished, the rest of his bones were cremated and the ashes were spreaded over mount Pangrango), whose diary often accompanied my bed time in 1983-1984. As long as his life he struggled for something he convinced about right, but everytime the system, the situation and the mentality of the people around him made him dissappointed. Idealism and pride had made him isolated, wanted to be separated out of his environment and he felt that his struggle was meaningless and useless.

Nobody knows the trouble I see, nobody knows my sorrow….Very sad and so gloomy, Gie. Recently I truly understand what you felt at that time. Once, just like you, I ever feel so meaningless and for the first time in my life I feel so desperate.

You know Gie, as your brother Arief Budiman said, your life was not meaningless. A soft, sadness cry of the coffin maker and the pilot that flied your dead body to Jakarta, who ever read your writings, proved that. So do I, Gie. No, despair is prohibited in my life. Maybe someone or something ever makes me so meaningless, but I believe that another one or another thing will really need me and make me so worthy and meaningful.

Nobody knows the trouble I see, nobody knows my sorrow….