There is unfinished writing. Red flowers bloom and one time disappear like smoke.
It’s dark to write in clarity about a city that I left behind. A symphony floats in my head, remembering a town that may not know who I am now.
In my mind, I wonder, “Do I deserve to be there? The paradise of the indigenous people.” There’s nothing left in my mind.
Maybe I’m too busy to write in a big stone about the city that raised me, or as he saw me growing up, he started letting go of me.
Jealous
To those who are still in his arms,
There is no determination to stay away from him; no single word is said when I leave him.
When I write this, I don’t know my condition.
It’s like there’s a thread that is piercing the sky.
I saw him as this colossal figure of authority with the spears he held.
The kingdom is big, but my body is too big to fit in.
The foals that run around the caged panpa situa,
Dull
Sometimes I also see the figure of a knight carried by the dawn.
It feels foreign now to what I have known for the past 17 years I’ve lived
He forgot me too
A meaningless figure
Small figure
Compared to the kingdom called Minang Kabau
Biography
Fajri Azhari (b. 2001) comes from Bukittinggi, West Sumatra. Inspired by his elder brother, Fajri developed an interest in photography in high school. Immersing himself in the world of photography, Fajri joined the visual storytelling workshop under Sore Rabu Project. His work was nominated for Best Photo Story in the workshop. He is currently studying at the Indonesian Institute of the Arts in Yogyakarta with a major in Photography, and he wishes to become a professional photographer in the future.