Romo took a deep breath. "I don't know, Dad. Sometimes I feel like this world is just a stage play. We're all just playing roles according to a script that's already been written, without really being able to choose our own paths. Like oxygen itself. We can't avoid it, but it's also what destroys us."
Pak Hasan was silent, looking at his son seriously. He understood that Romo was at a point full of doubt, much like he had experienced before. Then Pak Hasan responded wisely, though sometimes his tone sounded strict.
"A stage play, son? If you think life is just a play, then why do you want to travel? Why do you want to find the truth about this world you think is full of paradoxes?"
Romo paused for a moment, thinking. "That's what I ask myself too, Dad. Maybe because I want to prove that I can choose my own path. I want to see how the world really works, not just listen to what others say about it. That's why I want to go from Bandung to Bali—to learn more, to see it with my own eyes."
Pak Hasan spun his chair around and leaned back. "Your path won't be easy, son. But you need to know that every choice you make has consequences. If you want to truly see the world, you have to be ready to face the reality that it might not meet your expectations."
Romo looked at his father's face with hope, searching for understanding. "Dad, I know I can't change everything. I just want to try to understand why people live like this. Why many people do things that go against religious teachings, yet they still feel no guilt. I feel like we're all just walking in endless circles."
Pak Hasan looked at Romo deeply. "This world is indeed full of contradictions. But you must remember, everyone has their own role. Don't be quick to conclude that the world is just a play. Sometimes, we need to accept that there are no definite answers. Everyone has their own way to face life—including you."
Romo felt his chest tighten. Sometimes his father was too wise, seeing everything from a realistic and harsh point of view. He wanted more than just that hard reality. He wanted to know deeper, to dig further, to find meaning behind every step he took.
"So, may I go?" Romo asked, his voice hoarse though still tinged with doubt.
Pak Hasan looked at his son carefully, then slowly nodded. "Go ahead, son. But remember, even as you search for answers, never forget that life is not only about seeking, but also about accepting. This world is indeed full of paradoxes, but that doesn't mean we must see it only as endless confusion."
Romo smiled faintly, feeling a bit relieved even though his confusion hadn't fully disappeared. "Thank you, Dad. I... I just feel I need to do this for myself."
Pak Hasan patted his son's shoulder. "Be careful on the road, son. Don't get lost too long in questions with no answers. Sometimes, the answers lie within the journey itself."
Romo stood and approached the door. Before stepping outside, he looked back. "Dad, I don't know what I'll find. But I promise, I will return with more than just questions."
Pak Hasan only smiled faintly, then sat back down. "May your journey give you a deeper understanding of the world, my son."
As Romo left the house, he felt a little lighter, even though doubts still lingered. He knew the long journey ahead would teach him many things—about life's paradoxes, about a never-ending search, and about himself.
Romo sat at the edge of his bed, the dim room light reflecting his shadow on the wall mirror. The room was quiet except for his heavy sighs. He stared at the wooden floor barely visible in the dark, while his mind spun, digesting every word his father had just said.
Inner dialogue of Romo:
"Everyone has their own role."
That phrase kept echoing in his mind, unsettling him, as if spinning in an endless loop. Romo took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. This room felt tighter than before, even though he knew nothing had changed here. But his mind—ah, his mind was much noisier now.
His role. What is that? He felt like a tiny gear in a huge machine that never seemed to stop. Does that role mean anything? Does the world really need his presence? Or is he just one of many humans living life without truly leaving a mark?
Romo shifted his gaze to the window. The quiet night seemed to reflect the emptiness in his mind. He felt alienated, even from himself. Doubts kept binding him like chains, silently imprisoning his soul.
"If everyone has their role, then what is mine in this world?" he wondered. "Does the world really need me? Or am I just... here by chance, without any clear reason?"
He remembered his father's words earlier—about how everyone has their own path. But why did it feel like that path never truly existed? Everything he had learned, everything he tried to understand, seemed to lead him to one place: uncertainty.
What was he really searching for? Success? Understanding? Or simply freedom from the doubts that shackled him? Romo rolled his eyes, feeling trapped in his own confusion.
"Maybe Dad is right," he murmured softly. "Maybe I'm just overthinking things. Everyone lives their life, and I'm just a part of it. Just part of a long journey."
But then his heart felt strange. Something inside him asked again, more deeply. Something he couldn't ignore. Something whispering even more doubts. "But is that enough? Is it enough just to be part of a long journey? Does my presence truly matter to this world, or will I vanish like dust blown away by the wind?"
Romo stood up, walked over to the window, and stared at the dark night sky. A few stars twinkled in the distance, as if looking at him with eyes far wiser than his own. He felt so small beneath the vast sky. As if everything he believed in—every theory, every search—was just a passing breeze, never really leaving a mark.
"Maybe I really am just part of this stage play," he thought, "A small role that will be forgotten, no more than an extra in a big story I never chose."
He stepped back, letting his gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. It was as if he was asking himself, looking at the face reflected there, "What do I hope to get from all of this? What am I really searching for?"
Slowly, he felt the presence of growing doubt. As if this world truly was a stage—where people play their roles, yet very few realize they're acting. No one knows the purpose. No one knows when this story will end.
Romo felt his heart grow heavier. He wanted answers, but it seemed no one could give him certainty. All he knew was this doubt, and the deeper he thought about it, the more trapped he felt in a darkness he couldn't explore further.
"Does my existence in this world make any difference?" he whispered, his voice almost inaudible, swallowed by the silence of the night. "If I didn't exist, would the world be different?"
He stood there motionless, feeling like a stranger just waiting for an answer that never came, trapped in his own confusion. As if something was missing, something he had to find but couldn't reach.
He took a long breath. There was something inside him that he was beginning to realize—something he might have ignored all this time. Since childhood, his life had been arranged. The pesantren had shaped his way of thinking, giving clear boundaries between right and wrong, black and white. No room for questions that went too far. No space to doubt what had always been believed.
But then he entered the world of philosophy. A world that made him realize life wasn't always that simple. That there were other perspectives he had never seen before. That many questions couldn't be answered easily.
And now, he stood at a crossroads.
"Maybe I've been stuck in the same environment for too long," he thought. "Maybe I need to see the world more broadly. Not just from books, not just from theories, but directly from the reality out there."
This road trip—traveling to Bandung and Bali with Marlon and Riri—might not be just an ordinary journey. Maybe it was a chance to see something new, something that could change how he viewed the world. He wanted to meet people whose lives were different, who might give him new perspectives.
He wanted to know if this world really was just a stage play—or if there was something more than just the roles humans played.
"I hope this journey helps me understand more," he murmured. "I hope something opens my mind further."
He turned away from the window and walked to his bed. The night grew deeper, but his thoughts kept spinning. Somehow, for the first time in a long while, he felt a little hope beneath all the doubts that enveloped him.