ISHIHARA (Blind Color-Real Story)
Ishihara 1's

My father and I traveled through different lands from morning, noon, and night. The bus we were riding

keep moving west. Until the next day, morning came. The trip to Banda Aceh is still half the journey. I came to North Sumatra. Riau I have left.

This is the farthest journey for me and for Dad, for us together. Along the way we saw

the cities we've heard about in the news and in the history we read about. The metropolitan field. Sugarcane fields that stretch in Langkat. The typical Malay stilt houses that impress the ancient kingdom in the Land

Delis. Until dusk comes again to enter the border. Leaving North Sumatra Province. The Land of Rencong.

Swamp swamp between Besitang – Tamiang.

The twilight slowed down because my journey was getting to the West. Cold, AC in this bus is so

strong or the night is beginning to come. I hugged the backpack that was not as bloated and now it began to feel warm. I turned to the left, next to me was Dad, his eyes between sleep and wakefulness, pushy, silent all the passengers pervaded

each other's thoughts.

I sit beside the glass. The dewy glass signifies the air temperature outside is cooler than the temperature inside the Bus. I guessed the dew so that the shadow outside no longer blurred. The shadow was like running, a deceptive choriolis effect, whereas the bus I was riding on was not a shadow

shut it.

Before long the circles I put on the glass closed back. I guessed again by rubbing my hands. Oval-shaped raindrops with tapered top ends wet the outer glass. I smile at the drama of my life.

To the right of the road is full of swamps, only swamps. After far away eyes looked at the sea, it was

Malacca Strait. The shadow of the swamp and sea fused as the rain that followed in the twilight, carving anxiety in my heart. A taste, a deep sense of worry, which I first felt. I want to tell you the truth about direct rain

poured into that sea.

On the left side of the road, the swamp began to disappear as the terrain of the earth began to hilly hills and flowing rivers. The bus crossed the bridge several times, a bridge that crossed the river

that crosses the swamp. The hills on the left are planted with oil palm as far as the eye can see while on the right side of the road is still swamp. Dusk has

make the swamps coals while the sea is like faded copper stained with blood red. The mega blushed in the afternoon, the colloidal aerosol outlining the tyndal effect irradiated by the red wave which was the longest wave of the end

spectrum of sunlight. The piercing effect was clearly looming in the retina of the sky. I was fascinated by the colors of Nature that God created for me to see. A curved line had appeared at the end of the sky. That's a rainbow, a beautiful painting

the life I witnessed even in the twilight of a moment in this quiet place.

The silhouette of the trees is now brown and continues to turn black as dusk disappears and night comes. Faint shadows begin to lengthen and then disappear with the fading of solar rays. The twilight light changed dimaram buleun. Soon the border , Land of Rencong .

I took a deep breath. I no longer look outside. Then I exhaled my breath sounded claustrophobic. Along with the wet feeling in both eyes by the water line. And this is not dew.

The bus passed the bridge on the river bank that crossed the swamp, from the swamp I saw a burst of fire within

darkness is still in the rain. Rain is not able to extinguish the fire, the fire is a creation of God that gushed from the bowels of the earth spontaneously a sign that under the earth is stored a wealth of gas that has not been exploited. Flames

it is like my spirit, because only spirit can make me survive so as not to be pedam by the spin of the wheel of the times.

“Life is hard. We must be hard on life,” said the father firmly. Father also saw a burst of fire that did not extinguish the rain.

“Salam Kenal, We are from Riau to Banda Aceh.” Dad reached out his hand. We found a friend

triplet.

 “Me and My Wife from Payakumbuh. TNI. Objectives

we are the same Mr.”

“This is my son, he's going to college in medicine. State University in Banda Aceh.” Dad told me

Proud.

“Salammualaikum.” I also shook the man's hand with his wife.

“Great wah passed the test. Smart,” praise the Army.

“Ordinary time Bang. Thank you.”

“Dek. After climbing this bend and behold..,” command the Army. We quietly noticed.

I saw the second monument beside it there is a stage with a multi-storey ridge on all four sides.

“Remember this place..,”message that soldier,“border.

I look at the border. The border of Aceh Province with North Sumatra in the east cross is not

like the provincial border in general, at that time. The wider road consists of two smooth lanes. In the middle of it lights up the street lights because it is dark. Many soldiers and Baliho-baliho along the way. There is a large Baliho Martti Ahtisaari who won the 2008 peace nobel, flanked by two men

who shook hands. A handshake is not a sign of introductions but a sign of peace. He was instrumental in the realization of peace on Earth Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam, after having the status of a military operation area until the tsunami came. Then there is a billboard depicting an old woman who was a victim of war, children who were victims of the tsunami natural disaster, gun contact between soldiers and guerrillas. All these books tell about the long journey of history of a country.

For me it really is like a border between countries, much different from the Riau-Sumatra border

West, Riau-Jambi, Riau-North Sumatra. Differ. There is an aura, there is a charm.

The soldier pointed at the palm expanse as far as the eye could see. “Here Pak killed a friend of ours.”, he recalled during a military operation first, about the satire of the journey of life of young soldiers

that's.

“Life this hard deck,” order Army it.

“Life is hard.”

Father's message to me in the twilight.”We have to be hard on life,” he added.

***