She opens wide the window and lets the little butterfly fluttering around the bedroom. She counts her sleeping hours. It is now noon; that means she slept for seven hours. Thanks God. She steps off the bed. Standing by the window, she can see a traffic jam outside.
At lightning speed, awareness gets back into her brain. She is very much aware of her presence on the twentieth floor of an apartment in West Jakarta. That she is behind a wall and there is a door that leads to the living room, kitchen and bathroom. She stretches and swiftly goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge and drinks a quarter liter of orange juice and a glass of water. Now, she is preparing for her weekly ritual.
*
Six months ago.
Tuesday. The same butterfly came for the first time when Taita just woke up. She ignored it and proceeded her busy day as a model and went for a photo session and fashion show schedule. The butterfly came again the next Tuesday, but she still ignored it for she had so many appointments. Six Tuesdays had the butterfly come to her apartment. On the seventh, she felt there was something special with the butterfly. Then she tried to change her schedule; she requested Tuesdays off. And the butterfly came again on the eight Tuesday. That day she felt an unusual sparkle. It unexpectedly turned up her mood to enjoy the life. So, she drank a quarter liter of orange juice and a glass of water. She turned off all electronic appliances, except the fridge and the air conditioners.
She suddenly felt like to shower her flowers in the vases. She did yoga and lighted aromatherapy incense. She hummed over Anggun’s first international album. She braised broccoli and boiled potatoes. She wore pajamas and did not bathe; she only brushed her teeth and washed her face. She tidied up her apartment and rearranged all the furniture. She then finished the broccoli and potatoes. All these were done in order and she was always accompanied by the butterfly. Until the time hit seven in the evening and she headed for her bedroom to close the window. The butterfly went away.
As the butterfly left, Taita reactivated everything, bathed and slept at ten after reading her favorite novels (she likes Milan Kundera; she has all of his novels, from The Joke to The Book of Laughter and Forgetting). And she was back to herself as a model, who was ready for the Wednesday schedules.
*
Until now, she still does the ritual. Only one thing wonders her: the butterfly is always the same, for she knows butterflies live through a short metamorphosis cycle – less than six months.
*
(Karawaci, 9 July 2006)
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