Hito, Firman and Nunik: A Friendster Story

Last Wednesday I woke up with devastating messages in my mobile phone. All are sending the same message; Hito has passed away. I felt a chill in the back of my neck. Hito was my good friend. He used to be so quiet but always good in recommending great films and books. He rarely talked much but always reliable. He used to come to my place with his violet second-hand bicycle at night just to talked about books or spend the night talking non-sense while usually I was the one who done the talking and he would listen and commented in here and there. I can easily remember all that but on that particular Wednesday, I could not remember his face. I stayed at home all day just thinking about him, thinking about me, and thinking about life in general. It was a huge reality check. I am here, celebrating my youth and has the opportunity to travel and live overseas. I am just about to start my new phase in life and yet one of my dearest friends had to close his. Ever. It frustrates me.

At that Wednesday night I managed to chat with Syahid. I told him that I could not remember Hito’s face. He then came up with a simple solution: go visit Hito’s Friendster page. I could not believe that I did not think of that. I spent the whole day beating myself up for not remembered Hito’s face and the fact that I did not bring any photograph of my friends due to technicality reasons made it even worse. So, with a feeling of a little bit stupid, I followed Syahid’s suggestion. I opened Hito’s Friendster page and all of a sudden I felt a terrible emotional mixed-up. Yes, I am sad, but parts of me still do not believe that he already checked out of this messed-up but strangely worked-out life. And when saw his pictures there, at the Friendster page, those bitter-sweet memories rushing through my head. I did not cry. His life is too beautiful to be cried upon.

Then I remembered. It hit me right away. The Friendster page.

About a year (or two?) ago, I lost a friend. He was my senior during my undergrad and we spent our Field Course together. Firman and I were not that close, but we were good friends. When I started my new post as a teacher, he was preparing for his undergrad thesis and that was the reason we spent some time together. Right after he graduated, he worked as a radio reporter for Trijaya Radio in Bandung. And one day, on the way to cover the presidential speech on the Press Day, he got into a motorcycle accident and died that very instant. I remembered Firman because although he had died for quite sometime now, I still visited his Friendster page whenever I feel like it. And now, I do the same thing with Hito’s. It is sad to know that your Friendster page is not merely about your enormous amount of friend anymore, it also acted as your own journal that keep your memory on your highest and lowest time in life.

So Hito, have a peaceful journey there mate. You and I shall see each other again. And before that, I will always remember you and should I miss you I can just hop in to your Friendster’s page and looked at a piece of you there.