It’s probably the writing I’ve written for you so many times, Ma.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Thousands of poems, hundreds of unsent letters, and dozens of pages of the journal, I wrote them all about you, Ma.

Ma, I was never able to put words together, I couldn't express what I was always thinking and how I always felt about our relationship.

I’ll never be able to say it. But I wrote it down, I wrote everything down here to say whatever happened between us.

Ma, you are the reason why I cried in my Sujud and my Tahajud. Ma, you are my Muse who taught me that strong women can also be mild. Ma, when we are close I feel weak but my dignity is too spaced out. Ma, I always mention your name and boast about you in front of my friends, how grateful I am to be your daughter.

Ma, I know you hold a heavy burden. That's why I always pray and aim that one day God will give me the will to help soothe the burdens on your shoulders. Ma, thank you for being as serene as water when I gushed up like fire.

Ma, I've always remembered your words about how to bargain with men out there, about how to be a woman of good joviality to get love from many populace. Unfortunately, I was born melancholic.

I’m grateful, always grateful, Ma. Because I was born from a woman who always taught me Issin, who always taught me to think rationally but still remain mild, like women should behave.

Ma, from the deepest of my heart I want to say thank you and sorry but my mouth is dubious. In this writing, in this undelivered letter, I convey my sense, to my dear: Mama. Whole, through this letter.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jakarta, 18 Desember 2023