Flowers in the Sky

No one would have looked up into the sky for any particular reason that night. Stargazers? They didn’t exist, or more aptly, couldn’t exist on this island simply due to the inadequacy of the visibility of stars here. It’d be like waiting for God himself to crystallise in thin air.

The sound of the varying generations with their lifelines and stories, beliefs and values, interweaving with each other as on any other humid night was as always, mundane and uncherished, while 80 kilometres north of the island, across the vast murky tides, the first airborne unit of the insurgents had just loaded up onto the C-130, heading South. The sheer contrast between our foreign counterparts and us was on its way to light, symbolised by this readiness to provoke discord in the name of intolerance. One after another the bulky soldiers stepped onto the aircraft until the last reported sharply: “Last man!” The Major nodded in something like a perpetual frown that cannot be adjusted. But a nod was all he gave before he turned solemnly away discontinuing eye contact. As the shutters reclined into the aircraft, the two transport Lieutenants signalled for the Major to take his leave. A brief discourse took place, after which the Lieutenants glanced unaffectionately at each other as if they’ve just been told that they were being demoted, then left the Major to be. The unyielding currents that the turbines generated in the air forced the Major’s teeth to show, wincing and squinting. With the dragging push of the accelerator lever, the plane commenced its honourable journey. The Major stood superfluously upright for the entire duration with his gaze fixed on the plane. The moment it took off the runway, he put on his dark green beret, stood in attention, and gave a heartrending salute, oblivious to anything else — like the world had come to an obligatory halt — until the plane was out of sight. He was alone on the runway now.

Inside the C-130, the acting platoon commander reached out to the two men beside him with both hands, forming firm grips. Spontaneously, the rest of the first section touched palms with heads bowed down. Then the second, and the last. The platoon commander himself then bowed with eyes tightly shut and nothing was heard for an intensive thirty seconds. Then: “Seperti bunga di langit.”