Falling in Love with the Poet
CHAPTER 1

" IF YOU ARE NOT THE SON OF THE KING AND NOT THE SON OF THE GREAT CLERIC THEN BE A WRITER" Imam Al-Ghazali.

The poster above hung right next to my bedroom door. That word always motivates me to continue my hobby as a writer, but do not assume my ability is the same as him. He was a great scholar, his work such as Ihya Ulumudin is hardly famous from a few dozen centuries ago around the world. While I was just a new student, there was no work that I had produced other than a pile of poetry and novel folders in my laptop folder.Our similarities are just that we both come from a simple family.

I am the youngest of 3 children, My oldest sister is a woman who now works in a famous SOE company in this country, Her name is Diah Pitaloka only has one child. He is the pride of the family because since elementary school always get ranked. Until entering college with the title of the best graduate at the University and getting an S2 scholarship at the Best University in the country. There was hardly any mistake in the course of his life.

My sister number two is a martial athlete, has an athletic body and is very popular among women. His dark times when he was in Junior High, he had changed schools because he often fought. Even my father was almost desperate to take care of it, for my mother who patiently always managed to persuade the father. Started to be a good boy after getting acquainted with a silat teacher who was then able to make him a professional athlete. His best achievement won the bronze medal at the Sea Games.

Unlike my brother Hasmi who has an atheist body, my body can be said to be thin. I'm also not popular among women maybe even barely known. Don't be among women, the guy friends I have can be counted with fingers. The most familiar are only two people, Jarno with glasses whose hobby is the same as mine and one other person is Dobi collection of beautiful women and lonely aunt.

My days are spent in my room and out hanging out with the two creatures from the other planet. I didn't go to college like my two brothers, because all my family rejected my desire to study literature at an Arts Institute. There is nothing to expect from being an artist.

To me being a writer is a way of life that God has destined for me, so as big and heavy as the obstacles and obstacles will never dampen my steps. In my family, I was considered the strangest child, even though during my school I was not a smart child but I never made my two men get called by the school.

Kelvin Alvariddo is my name, but the name I use in each of my works is Sudiken Samo which stands for Difficult in knowing people. I have sent several times my poems in poetry competitions, but only the 20th highest achievement I have ever achieved.

***

This afternoon the three of us made an appointment at a Cafe near a Mall which is the largest shopping center in the city. Cafe which is indeed the most popular tongkrongan place among young people here. People who hang out here for a variety of reasons ranging from just spending time, talking about business, looking for insipration there are even those who aim to find a partner.

When I stepped my foot into the cafe I saw Jarno and Dobi had come first, they chose a table in the middle that was not far from the stage that is commonly used for live music. If choosing a table in the middle means that first comes is Dobi, because according to him the table in the middle is the most strategic position to see the girl who is a guest at this cafe. If I with Jarno usually choose a table that is in the corner because we do not really like to be the center of attention.

" The loser came along, too." Dobi said in a loud voice so some guests turned to us.

I felt bad for their eyes as if looking at me like a circus animal in attraction, I saw Dobi relaxed as if he was a popstar who just finished singing one song.

"Don't talk out loud, this is a cafe not a factory." I said.

My friend this crazy one has indeed passed, I tangent when pregnant mama cravings what yes. But despite his nature, he was my most loyal friend. We've been friends from SD until now. While Jarno who like a statue from earlier was my friend from High School, we are both managers of mading in school, loyal waiters of the library and the most unpopular creatures in school. Because that similarity is what makes us familiar.

" How's your poem going, Top ten ndak?" Ask Jarno to me.

" As always, only the top 20." My answer.

" Maybe the soul of your poem does not exist, so it is just a series of beautiful words with no soul in it." Jarno.

"What was the theme yesterday." Further.

" Merindu theme, so my poem about longing for the former." I answered the question.

" Pantsan can't win, you're a snow prince with a heart cooler than the south pole. So ngak may be able to write a longing to the ex well if you never feel homesick." Jarno

Jarno is better than me when it comes to making a satra work, because he is Top Up in Noveltoon an application for novelists. He also won several poetry competitions at the national level. So I think what he said made sense.

" In that case, to make a literary work that has a soul means we have to experience first huh?" Much

" If you want to tell a durian, you never see it and eat it and only know it from other people's information. Is it possible you can tell it with precision." He said again

" Therefore a good work of satra and has a soul in it can only be made by people who have experienced it or people who are able to hallucinate a high level as if he had experienced it" he continued.

It did not feel like the day started at night, the words from Jarno had indeed really inspired me on how to make a good work. Then that's the reason why all this time my work never won.

Finally the coffee show was over, we decided to go home. For me this is the most useful coffee I've ever done.