Karmela, a child who loves to write. He was so cheerful every time he stroked the pointed tip of his pen to the surface of the paper. Each stroke he forms into letters by letter and he arranges it into a sentence, even a paragraph. The pleasure of writing he got from his father. Karmela's father was an excellent writer who had written on many papers. His father was the most famous person in his village.
All the villagers know who Daddy Karmela is. A skinny man with a mustache and glasses that are almost as thick. Pak Julis, they used to say hello. Somehow the villagers love to call him as Pak Julis, but his name is not Julis, but Deri. Perhaps the Julis's call comes from an extension 'scribe' which is shortened to 'Julis'. I do not know, but clearly the name has long been inherent in the father Karmela.
In accordance with his call, Karmela's father was a scribe in his village. More precisely the scribe in terms of correspondence. Many people can write, but few people can make others want to always read with their writing.
"Remember, son. When you write, write with an honest heart. Undoubtedly people will be happy to read what you write. "That was the message he always uttered whenever he was teaching Karmela to write. And Karmela always smiled every time she responded to the sentence. Although Karmela did not yet understand the meaning of his father's words.
Now Karmela is 9 years old and she still loves to write. Many things had Karmela written. In his book, Karmela writes many stories about himself and his father, not infrequently Karmela also wrote a letter to his mother who had already faced the Lord when he had just given birth. He believed that his mother could read his letter from heaven, even though he never sent it to heaven. And Karmela is very happy to have written behind her house.
There was a shady tree with a stem that was so thick and dark brown. Karmela always took the time to write under the tree. Leaning his body against the thick, thick trunk of the tree. Karmela is very happy to write there because there is always a friend to accompany her. A friend who always watches and watches while he is writing. And his friend is a white goose.
The white swan could not sing, could not speak, nor could whistle. But Karmela loved her so much. The white swan always came whenever Karmela sat under the big, shady tree. The pretty animal will come up to her and stay with her when she has opened her book and start scribbling her pen on the surface of the paper. The geese would only watch Karmela up close without making a single sound and the goose would leave as Karmela left. Although the geese could not whistle let alone talk, but Karmela was very happy with the presence of the goose who always accompanied him. Karmela just needed a friend who was always there by her side.
Karmela's father always went to work after delivering Karmela to school and just got home when the Isha prayer reverberated. All day Karmela always sat under the tree behind her house to write while waiting for her father's return. However, the loneliness of Karmela finally leave also since the beautiful white swan came to accompany him. The goose looks white and clean, even it appears to shine like an angel sent by God from heaven as the sun shines on him. The goose will look beautiful as he flaps his wings into the air and holds his neck up high. So that's when Karmela will smile broadly as she writes many stories about the goose in her book. He even gave him a name.
"Hi, beautiful goose. What is your name? Looks like you do not have a name, huh? Well, how about if this is your kunamai, Viola? "So from then on Karmela always called the swan as Viola.
Karmela does not know what Viola's name means, but the beauty of the Viola name can at least represent the goose beauty. Karmela and Viola's friendship continues until Karmela is 12 years old. At this age Karmela is still doing much the same thing. He still loves to write under the shade tree behind his house and he still likes to talk to the Viola. Karmela Knows if the goose can not talk, but he believes that geese can understand and understand what humans are talking about. Especially for a goose that has long been in contact with humans, then the goose will be able to understand the contents of the human heart. Like Karmela and Viola right now.
That afternoon, Karmela walked to the shade tree behind her house with a very heavy step. Karmela dropped herself as she reached the shady tree. Today Karmela is unusual. Usually Karmela would just open her bag and pick up her book and pen to write right away, but today was different. Karmela did not touch her bag at all. She let her bag stuck to her back and made it a cushion for her to lean against a tree trunk.
Karmela's face buckled and tears continued to tear. She cried, but not sobbing. He cried very quietly without any sounds of crying at all. Beside him, the white swan he named Viola was silent as if he were watching him. The dark black eyes of the goose continued to observe the crying Karmela.
From today I can not write anymore. My pen has been marred by my friend. "Karmela sobbed as she pointed to the questioner in the palm of her hand that had been torn in two to the Viola.
"I loved this pen as much as I love you. I can not possibly write again without this pen. Besides in this village no one sells pens or anything like that. Then, what should I do, Viola? "Karmela was still crying as she continued to complain all her worries to the Viola.
The village where Karmela lives is indeed a very lagging village. To buy stationery alone they have to cross the river by through a bridge made of bamboo. That was a distance of tens of kilometers. Karmela is a child who does not want to trouble her parents. There was no way he could ask his father to go for miles and miles by scraping an ontel bike just to buy a pen. He does not want to be like Malin Kundang who has been labeled a child of disobedience.
Suddenly Viola was shouting. Her voice sounded like a trumpet in the new year. Loud and piercing the eardrum. The Viola screamed so many times flapping his wings. No, he did not want to fly. It's like he's doing something, sort of speaking but in his language. Karmela, unaware of what the Viola's shouts and voices could only stare at Viola was puzzled. Even he forgot his tears.
"What are you doing, Viola? Are you singing? "Karmela asked with a puzzled look.
The Viola still sounds like the new year's trumpet as he continues to flutter his wings in the air. Then, moments later Viola approached Karmela and he stretched out a wing and placed it right in front of Karmela. Karmela was stunned for a moment because he did not know what to do and want what Viola this. However, the white swan kept waving his wings in front of Karmela. It was like asking for something to Karmela. Karmela who initially did not understand the purpose of the white swan was slowly like getting something. Karmela seemed to understand the purpose of the white swan. I do not know how, but he seemed to understand the white swan's desire. Maybe this is called the inner bond.
"Do you want me to pull out your beautiful white hair?" Karmela asked doubtfully.
Again the geese sounded loud like a trumpet.
"Okay, if that's what I'll do."
Without showing any more curiosity, with Karmela lugunya plucked out one feather that is on the wings of the goose. Only one fruit before the goose finally pulled its wings back.
And once again the geese voiced loudly before he finally left and disappeared from Karmela's gaze. As the swan left, Karmela could only look at the questioned goose feather that was now in her hands. "Why am I plucking this?" He wondered, before finally keeping the goose in his bag.
Hi, my son, Karmela. Why are you moping like this? Are you tired of writing? "
"No, yeah. I'm just sad. "
"Tell Dad."
"No need, Dad. Dad just read my sadness through my writing. "
"Okay if that's what you want."
Under that shady tree Karmela was pouring about her sorrow into her book through her writings. He was sad that he had not seen the Viola, the white swan who always accompanied him as he wrote under this tree. For two months now Karmela no longer saw the white swan. Exactly after he pulled goose feathers. "What if the Viola is mad at me?" Her inner self was always wondering to herself.
"Hi, Karmela. Have you heard of a fairy tale in this village? "
"What kind of a tale is that, Daddy?" Karmela stops her writing and she turns her face to his father with a questioning look on his face.
"A fairy tale about a goose." His father replied with a smile, but not visible because it was covered by his thick mustache.
Karmela's eyebrows met each other because of her frowning brow. "Tell me Father."
Then, his father began to tell about a hereditary tale in this village about a magical goose. Geese that only appear thousands of years. Geese that has the power, that is to understand and feel the feelings of a human being. The villagers believe that if a man has a clean and genuine heart then the man can meet the magical goose. And when the man is so close to the goose that the goose will give a feather to be pulled out by the man. And overnight the revoked feathers will turn into something most wanted by the man who has pulled out his feathers.
Karmela was stunned for a moment when he heard the story from his father. Karmela turned her gaze to a pen she was holding. A pen that he found in his bag the day after he plucked the Viola fur. A pen that he thought was a gift from his father.
"Then what will happen to the goose after its feathers are pulled out, yeah?"
"The goose will die."
Karmela was stunned again. He turned his gaze back to his pen and then began to clasp his pen tightly. Karmela slowly began to shed tears and sobs broke at that time. Karmela was crying because she was so sorry for Viola's departure. If he knew if the Viola would go away for good, he would not pull out his feathers even if only a single. Because for him Viola is a friend who can not be exchanged for anything expensive.
Realizing that his son was crying, Karmela's father instantly embraced Karmela with his tightness. Karmela's tears broke with the sinking of Karmela in her father's arms.
"Never mind, Karmela. Do not cry. It's just a fictional story.