I often contemplate that the creator of sandals must be an extraordinary genius. While people are busy training their feet to endure variou...
I often contemplate that the creator of sandals must be an extraordinary genius. While people are busy training their feet to endure various terrains, this person simply took cowhide and wrapped it around their feet. Without much effort, they could walk wherever they pleased.
If the cowhide got dirty, they could easily replace it. If there were sharp objects in their path, the cowhide would protect their feet from harm. They could even decorate the cowhide to make it look cooler. Thanks to them, the whole world now knows about sandals, and such a remarkable invention came about because they were too lazy to train their feet.
Sandals come in pairs, left and right. Each sandal is different, and therefore if one breaks, the other loses its meaning. Like connected by the thread of destiny, I believe one sandal will also perish if its partner dies. That's why they come in pairs. Nothing can replace them.
Why do I think so deeply about sandals? It all started from a seminar by an Islamic cleric three years ago. At that time, we were all gathered at the mosque and forced to listen to the lecture of an old cleric whose voice made me sleepy. I don't remember what he talked about (because I slept), but on the way home, I realized one strange thing.
My sandal, the Swallow sandals that can be bought cheaply at any store, got swapped. It was difficult to see the difference because all Swallow sandals look the same, but my feet could feel the difference.
My right sandal had been swapped. It felt uncomfortable, just like using the toilet at someone else's house. Moreover, it was one size smaller. Who dared to be so barbaric as to separate my right sandal from its left partner?
But what's done is done. The seminar is over, and everyone has gone home with their own sandals. My right sandal has left, leaving the left sandal with its new partner.
Wasted but kept is uncomfortable. That's how I feel about this pair of sandals that are not destined for each other. I still wear them when needed, but it feels different. Is this what a child feels when their father remarries and now has to live with a stepmother?
It's hard for me, but it's surely harder for these sandals. They have to be separated from their partners and live with strangers. Most sandals would prefer to die, but I can't bear to kill them.
However, I believe my right sandal is still alive and sharing destiny with its new left sandal out there. That's why I always try to find their whereabouts. I'm sure, if it's meant to be, they won't go anywhere.
*****
"Come on, Sur! Why do you care so much about sandals? If you need new ones, just buy them at Mak Ijah's shop. They're on sale for Ramadan."
Tono, my best friend, tried to remind me. I know he means well, but he simply doesn't understand how heavy the issue of loyalty between a pair of sandals is. Tono is the type of person who measures everything by its monetary value. That's just how simple his mindset is.
"I'm like this because I care, Ton. Imagine if your parents got divorced, would you feel comfortable with your stepfather and stepmother?"
"Sure, I care, but what kind of person asks, 'Is your right sandal bigger than your left sandal?' on a date? Sinta definitely won't want to see you again."
"I'm sorry. Besides, she also attended that cleric's lecture, right? Who knows if our sandals really got swapped."
"If your sandals were swapped, there's no way she'd still wear a different sandal, Mansur, oh Mansur!"
"No, I know my sandals are still doing their job. I just know it!"
Tono looked at me as if I were crazy, but I knew what he didn't know. A deeply connected soul can sense the condition of its other half.
That's why I never stop searching. When I walk, I direct my gaze downwards to observe the sandals people are wearing. What brand are they, what condition are they in, how long have they been worn, slowly I can analyze all of that. I can even recognize sandals that are about to break in the middle of the road.
Suddenly I remembered Sinta. We started getting close because I noticed her sandal was almost broken when I saw her coming home from the mosque. I followed her from behind because our houses are in the same direction. If I didn't catch her, she would've kissed the pavement. That's the importance of regularly checking your sandals. You never know when an accident might happen if your sandals aren't given attention.
"Can you still walk?" I asked her as she cursed. A broken sandal is indeed very troublesome.
"Well, I often play soccer barefoot. My feet are strong."
"Alright then. Here!"
I took off my right sandal to replace her broken right sandal. Upon recollection, that sandal was too big for her foot.
"Hey? Are you okay?"
"Relax, I often play soccer barefoot. My feet are strong."
"T-Thank you," she said shyly.
"Yeah, but don't forget to return it. This sandal is still looking for its partner."
Who would've thought that a broken sandal could bring two people together. Maybe she misunderstood my last sentence, but we started contacting each other, and eventually, we started dating. Our first date ended absurdly. I really had to apologize to her.
"Do you have a foot fetish?" she asked without hesitation.
"A foot fetish? No! I was just curious if your sandals were the same size or not."
"So your fetish is sandals? That's even worse!"
"That's not it."
Slowly I told her the origin of the sandals I lent her. Just like Tono, she gave me a look like I was insane, but at least she tried to understand.
"You're weird," she said without filtering her words, "but I think it's kinda romantic."
When my search for my sandal's soulmate failed, I instead found my own soulmate. Sinta and I got married. Even with mismatched sandals, I managed to go further than Tono, who likes to change his sandals.
There's nothing I can complain about in life. It's just that I keep wondering where my sandal's partner really is. With the busyness of being a husband who later became a father, I no longer have time to walk around the complex and look at people's sandals one by one.
My sandal, the sandal that has been with me since school days, is also starting to approach its end. Like humans, sandals also have a lifespan limit. No matter how smart and good we are at taking care of a sandal, a beloved sandal will surely die. So does my sandal.
I know my sandal won't last long, maybe it won't even make it a hundred meters. However, I still wear it and take it for walks. It feels like reliving every step I took. These mismatched sandals are evidence of my footsteps on Earth.
And then, my left sandal breaks. Even though I knew it was coming, it still hurts my heart. We've traveled so far together, and until now it hasn't found its partner again.
But its life has come to an end. It's time to say goodbye.
With bare feet, I walk to the nearest trash bin. I thought about burying it, but that wouldn't be good for the environment. The fate of Swallow sandals is to end up in the trash. If lucky, they will be recycled and reborn into new sandals.
When I arrived at the trash bin, I met Mr. Imron. He was the cleric who caused my sandals to mismatch. He's very old now. His voice is even more soporific.
"Afternoon, Mr. cleric, what are you doing here?" I asked casually.
"Oh, Mansur. Here, throwing away sandals."
As he opened the black plastic bag he brought, I cried.
It turns out Mr. Imron is the one. Because his feet are always covered with a sarong, I never could see the sandals he was wearing. After all this time, after hundreds of thousands of steps, these two sandals meet again in the trash.
And even more surprisingly, it was Mr. Imron's right sandal that broke. The sandal that originally belonged to me.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Imron."
I took the right sandal from Mr. Imron and gave him my right sandal. I didn't explain anything, that's how it should be.
"Take it, Mr. Imron. Take good care of it. This pair of sandals is still capable of taking long strides."
He smiled understandingly. After thanking me, he left me with the broken pair of sandals. I put the pair of sandals in the recycling bin. After a long wait, after tiredness in searching until the end of their lives, this pair of sandals finally meet again at the end of their lives.
Even though they are separated in this world, I hope no one will separate them in the afterlife.
END
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