Aspar Paturusi’s Religious and Spiritually Intense Poetry
Author: Jacob Ereste
Freelance Journalist
Enjoying Aspar Paturusi’s poem “Can I Sharpen My Faith’s Dagger?” I’m reminded of Hamsat Rangkuti’s work about a dagger, which I imagine is sharp enough to pierce the depths of a soul uncertain about the guidance and teachings of heaven, weathered by rain and heat. It’s also possible to imagine it being threatened by decay and being eroded by whoever’s soul. Therefore, Aspar Paturusi will continue to sharpen the dagger, as if he wants to dissect my heart, torn apart by the vibrant life of this world, allowing itself to succumb helplessly to its intoxicating seduction.
Furthermore, I’m glad that a writer of Aspar Paturusi’s caliber is happy to mingle with young Indonesian poets who are on the rise again, thus rekindling memories of the vibrant era of Indonesian literature in the 1970s and 1980s, rekindling the hope that it will no longer be like a ragtag bunch on a rock. Even the appearance of the name Aspar Paturusi alone is able to bring back memories of the Indonesian cultural meeting in Bulak Sumur in the year 1990 which was directly organized by Dr. Umar Kayam, author of “Seribu Kunang-kunang di Manhattan,” was released at the time when Linus Suryadi AG’s “Pengakuan Pariyem” (Pariyem’s Confession) was on the cloud, replacing Ashadi Siregar’s novel “Cintaku di Kampus Biru” (My Love on the Blue Campus), which was quite a hot topic among Indonesian writers and literary observers at the time.
From that historical moment, what I still remember is encouraging Wiji Thukul, the folk poet, to appear during the event. His humble demeanor always reminded me of Chairil Anwar’s somewhat rambunctious and unruly demeanor. It was at this event that I had the opportunity to have a delightful conversation with Aspar Paturusi, a rare encounter at Taman Ismail, Jakarta, on various occasions, such as during the escort of the Amri Yahya painter exhibition.
Certainly, Aspar Paturusi’s work and appearance have become my idol, because his Makassarese atmosphere is truly enchanting, even though I had never heard his poem, which renditions I La Galigo, which is so powerfully spiritual.
Aspar Paturusi’s poem seems to ask God: “Can I sharpen my soul?” “The Dagger of My Faith” can be understood as an honest confession of his inner journey in his old age, a desire to be kind and steadfast, sharpening his inner vision.
This is the revelation of his poetry. At this age (82 years old now), he honestly says it’s no longer appropriate to ask for guidance. He has traveled so far in life that he’s approaching dusk.
The impression of Aspar Paturusi’s Sufi journey is truly convincing. A spiritual journey, seemingly filled with joy and sorrow, should be able to discern the nature of Your prohibitions. Yet, he remains aware, “My heart is truly hardened, hardened to stone. In the sense of continuing to draw closer to God.”
Aspar Paturusi’s awareness of the morning, which should be bright but dim, is a metaphor for himself. Therefore, Aspar Paturusi needs to acknowledge that he is riddled with wounds from the stabs of sin. He even says, “If any of Your servants neglects to be grateful, I am among them. Likewise, if anyone is always late in reciting Istighfar, I am among them.”
Enjoying Aspar Paturusi’s increasingly religious poetry is like enjoying Chairil Anwar’s poem, “Do’a,” at the end of his life. It’s exactly like the spiritual turmoil of these two great Indonesian poets, who couldn’t turn away from God.
In his poem, Chairil Anwar says: “My God, in my daze I still call out Your name. Even though it’s truly difficult, remembering You fills me completely.” Until finally Chairil Anwar reveals: “My God, I knock at Your door, but I can’t turn away.”
Aspar Paturusi, meanwhile, says, “Now, if I can still pray for the rest of my life to be meaningful, to not be lulled by the flashes of worldly light.” Therefore, he says, “God, can I sharpen the dagger of my faith again, even if it’s faltering?” He says, “Let me walk on the expanse of Your glorious carpet.”
So, in essence, continuing to do good is like Chairil Anwar’s prayer, wishing to live another thousand years.
But what is certain is that Aspar Paturusi’s energy at this age, entering the bonus phase, is truly admirable. At least, in a number of his works collected by my grandson, there are poems written on the same day, such as the poem entitled “Green Leaves Waving to You,” along with several others, clearly demonstrating his passion for life, wanting to leave something meaningful for future generations through the literary field he pursues. Although he once navigated the world of the stage and other artistic habitats with astonishing perseverance.
Imagine he wrote a play script in 1959, when he was still a teenager. This was followed by various other plays, novels, and the founding of Member of the Makassar Arts Council and Chair of the Theater Committee at the Jakarta Arts Council. He not only actively reads poetry but also acts in plays and directs. His poetry collections are numerous: “Sukma Laut” (1985), the anthology “Ombak Losari” (1993), and Puisi Bosnia (1993). Not to mention his works included in collections with other Indonesian poets.
Certainly, Aspar Paturusi’s spirit, passion, resilience, and tenacity are worthy of emulation in his work, producing numerous works that can serve as references, benchmarks, and comparisons, such as the numerous and admirable works of Sutan Takdir or Putu Wijaya. For it is these tangible works that will one day adorn the artist’s tombstone.**
Banten, July 18, 2025
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