The Splitting Clasping Stone
Illustration by Rio Haryanto
by Benny Arnas
O Splitting Clasping Stone
Clasp my feet…
O Splitting Clasping Stone
Clasp my hands…
O Splitting Clasping Stone
Clasp my body…
O Splitting Clasping Stone
Clasp my head…
Such is the lament sung by those in despair in front of the gigantic stone lying deep within the jungle. The Splitting Clasping Stone. It is said that those who seek its embrace will not feel the slightest pain as the stone clasps each part of their body.
Where exactly the stone is located, no one knows.
The stone would appear when someone, lost in despair, ventured into the forest, lamenting their prolonged misfortune, cursing a life filled with sorrow, or bemoaning a family that no longer cared, among other woes.
This was what Samila was experiencing.
The thirty-year-old woman had indeed heard the tales of the Splitting Clasping Stone. Yet, she paid them no mind. Her philosophy was straightforward: if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t believe it.
That morning, as she walked through the forest, her gaze stumbled upon a giant stone slowly splitting open before her. Those stories of the Splitting Clasping Stone surged within her.
“Wh… why am I seeing you?” Samila stepped back.
“Requirest thou not my aid, Samila?” Indeed, as people said, the colossal stone could speak. It even knew her name.
“No… no,” Samila shook her head. Her retreat was halted by a stump. Now, her body leaned back, cornered against the stump, ten meters from the stone that continued to open and clasp, as if waiting for its prey.
Samila was truly terrified.
“Mark well, Samila,” echoed the Stone. “I am never in error.”
***
In the past week, the fields had been swarming with bush crickets, as Seminggan, Samila’s husband, had observed.
“Jalim, Jalum,” he called to his two adolescent sons, “go to the fields before the sun climbs too high,” he instructed. “Collect the bush crickets that I’ve gathered and grill them at the hut.”
“Can we eat them, Father?” asked Jalim, the elder.
Seminggan nodded. “Leave some for your mother,” he said. “After coming back from collecting firewood in the evening, she will be very hungry.”
Such was their life.
Every day, Seminggan and Samila worked separately. Seminggan in the fields, planting various fruits and flowers, while Samila would either gather firewood or mushrooms in the neighboring forest. They sold a portion of their produce at the market. A smaller amount is kept for home use.
“We must save money so we can send our children to the city for education,” Seminggan said. “They will need proper clothes and food there,” he explained.
“Yes, dear,” agreed Samila. “If they pass the royal exam, they could become guards or even commanders,” she imagined with sparkling eyes.
However, they overlooked that Jalim and Jalum had poor behavior. Jalim was incredibly lazy and always complaining, while Jalum was gluttonous and lacked compassion.
As a result, they had no friends. This was also why Seminggan and Samila had decided to build a hut in the middle of the forest. They were tired of hearing complaints from the parents of their children’s peers.
Once, Jalim had broken someone else’s toy. On another occasion, he refused to clean up the mess he had made in the fields while playing, among other incidents.
Jalum had once stolen silver coins from a beggar’s bowl simply because he didn’t have enough money to buy the cake he desired at the market. He had also pushed a small child who was waiting in line for the distribution of sweet potatoes from the kingdom.
People had often advised Seminggan and Samila to discipline Jalim and Jalum properly. “Being strict is different from being harsh,” a blacksmith had advised a year ago. “Force them to help you in the fields so they understand what hard work is,” suggested another colleague of Seminggan.
“Make them sweat looking for firewood like you, Samila,” suggested a friend with whom Samila usually went to gather firewood. “If they only stay at home, eating and sleeping, you’ll end up with trouble!”
“They will become servants of the kingdom!” Samila exclaimed, her temper flaring.
“They will make you take back your negative assumptions,” Seminggan would retort whenever he felt overwhelmed by the harsh comments.
***
And so, a week had passed since the bush cricket season ended. Not once did Jalim or Jalum leave any of that delicious fare for their mother.
“Eating in front of Mom is enough to fill her up, Father,” Jalim said when Seminggan inquired.
“Mom used to love bush crickets, but now that she has children, naturally, everything is for the children, right, Mom?” Jalum justified.
One morning, Samila set off for the forest, feeling irritated.
She and her husband had agreed: no arguments or tears in front of the children. But her heart felt unbearably heavy.
Suddenly, with tears in her eyes, she thought of what people said about Jalim and Jalum’s behavior.
“Such children won’t keep their parents in mind,” the voice echoed in her head. “Even if you’re starving, they won’t care.”
“They might be sated, but they won’t share with their starving parents, just watch!” Whose voice that was, she couldn’t remember.
“And once they grow up, you’ll be forgotten in their thoughts!”
“You’ve raised them wrong!”
Samila screamed, shaking her head.
“How now?” The echo made Samila realize that it was her sorrow that had summoned the giant stone. “ Wouldst thou offer a verse unto me, Samila?”
Samila shook her head. “I … I don’t want to…”
“It shan’t hurt, Samila,” the voice deeply droned, ominous. “‘Tis known to all, I lift from thee thy despair, granting not a whit of torment. I do enwrap thy woes, leaving not a hint of pain behind.”
Samila cried. She stood up, turned around, and decided to run away from the splitting stone.
Unbeknownst to her, the stone bore capabilities beyond splitting and clasping; it could also stir, sprint, pursue…
Samila quickened her pace.
The stone, in relentless chase, did roll and roll…
In pursuit of Samila. (*)
Diterjemahkan oleh Dalih Sembiring dari “Batu Belah Batu Betangkup” karya Benny Arnas untuk antologi cerita rakyat Limatara dalam bahasa Inggris yang berjudul sama dengan cerpen ini (2023).
