our Artists

My name is Good. I was a nobody. I was born as a street child. My mother abandoned me in the street when I was a baby. I found and cared for by a poor family. From then until now I was 16 years old, I never know who she is and why I was discharged. When I was 7 years old, my foster parents died of illness and forced me to live alone. But fate took me to meet with the Bedu. Some time later we met with Ita, a girl who is also street children. With the background of the same life we ​​became inseparable companions. As a child of the streets we do not have parents who pay for our lives. We can only sing in the street while waiting for the people through the kind-hearted to us. We never want to steal. Although we stayed hungry to wait for luck. Through this article I want to tell my story along with a second piece of my friend here, especially Bedu, my best friend since I was a kid.

Society calls us singers. No. We were not singers, we are street artists who do not get a chance like other artists. It was always said by Bedu to those who underestimate us. Even if only with a cheap guitar that has been worn, mini drums we collected one by one from a drum that has been damaged and discarded, and the voices of a mediocre, we still sing the lyrics of our beautiful creations with a full appreciation. That's why we call ourselves Bedu street artists. Bedu a cheerful and never feel desperate. He is always encouraging us when we were hungry and penniless. He also taught me and Ita music. If not for him, maybe we've become singers who have to deposit to and fro. However, the good memories we shared our Bedu can only carve until then. Yes, only until then.

The night was cold and dark. The full moon reflects the light beautifully add to the beauty of the night. So quiet voice only wild cat and the sound of crickets singing in our ears. The three of us slept together only with a glove former repose that has been worn in a small house zinc roof. The little house was shabby but the store so many memories for 9 years of our lives together. In one corner of the wooden wall, displayed a homemade pictures depict three children were holding hands and singing merrily. They are us. In the middle of the night silence Bedu opened the conversation.

"Gus, Ta, are you both still asleep?" Bedu asked quietly.

"Du Eng ... why would you?" Said Ita behind, it turns out he was not asleep.

"Ros."

"Gus!" Ita said, shaking my call.

"Ta Uuh ... what? I slept again ya! "I muttered irritably.

"That ... Bedu."

"Uh ... why Du?"

"Um ... this. I just wanted to ask you both, "said Bedu.

Bedu's face looked a little pale. His words sounded like he wanted to talk about serious things. I rarely see the faces of Bedu and Ita like that. We both got up to listen more seriously. Bedu also wake up and we sat down to form a small circle.

"We're friends right? We will continue with it? "Asked Bedu as he saw my face and Ita alternately as if demanding an answer as soon as possible.

"Of course Du. Already 9 years we were together, all three under the tin roof is of our friend and will always be together, "Ita said softly.

"Ita true. We're best friends and will always be together. I, elo, Ita. We are three friends. No one will ever be misahin us, "I said.

"I love you both, Gus, Ta," said Bedu. He then hugged us both.

"We also love you why Du."

"Yeah, I love all the ell."

In the middle sunyinya night, the wind was blowing hard enough to shake our little house. Slowly the picture painting from the wall and fell apart.

The next day the three of us singing at a street intersection. At that time the streets crowded with pedestrians, not as usual. My heart felt a lump. Especially since the conversation the night before. While playing guitar I looked around me. I saw some street children who are from the first very hostile to us. They do not like us because we do not want to join them. Of course we do not want to, because their daily activities is a steal. Impressed naive for kids like us, but this is the choice that we live. I decided to ignore them. It seems these days they will not bother us. So I thought at the time. Apparently I was wrong.

Not long after, among pedestrians who just make a contribution to us screaming hysterically.

"Kyaaa! I lost my wallet! "He shouted to all pedestrians turn their views towards the origin of the mother's voice.

At that time Ita was picked up a wallet that was lying close to the cap that he deliberately put to put money saweran. The mother looked around for his wallet. That's when the catastrophe occurred. Street kid named Obet shout aloud.

"EH! Pickpocket! "He shouted, pointing to the Ita direction.

The people who are in the intersection this time directing his views to us.

"Ah! SAYAA THAT PURSE! "Cried the mother.

"Er, a pickpocket. Pickpocket! "Shouted the people around him.

"No! I'm not a pickpocket! I found this near my hat, "said Ita with a slight sob.

"Still dare to lie!"

Some people began to crowd around us and try to judge Ita. Bedu deftly pulled away from the crowd while Ita I took the wallet from his hand and threw it toward Ita crowd.

"RUN!" I yelled and Bedu simultaneously.

The three of us ran from the intersection. Drums and hats saweran we leave behind and only guitar murahanku we could carry. From a distance I saw street children took the money and keep it in your pocket saweran celanannya. He then smiled at us, smiling triumphantly cunning counterfeit. With a vengeful stare at that moment it felt like I was stabbed with a rusty dagger. Kuurungkan my intention and kept running. At the time I hit a gentlemen and I fell. My guitar bounce further back. Bedu who saw the reflex immediately turned around and took the guitar, but the people who came after us were very close. He threw the guitar to me.

"GOOD! TAKE his guitar! LARII! "Shouted the Bedu.

I immediately took the guitar and ran. I saw Bedu has been besieged by people who are chasing us. Together they hit the Bedu are only able to take refuge while accepting with resignation blows menghujam body. At that time I saw one flock ... "Obet" .. carrying a rusty knife and in the midst of the hustle and bustle, he thrust a knife into the heart of the Bedu. Blood was splattered splattering. While the herd Obet it has been out of the crowd and immediately fled. I immediately pursue one's herd Obet while people stopped beating Bedu and one by one they left Bedu as if nothing happened. Ita who has been away from us immediately ran toward the body lying helpless Bedu. Meanwhile, I continue to pursue the herd Obet that after I watched was called Sogi. Movement is very agile, probably makes it such a habit of stealing it. In the midst of the crowd he continued to weave through a lot of people. I could no longer pursue it. I've left far behind. Frustrated, I yelled out loud.

"Fuck you Sogi !!!!!!!!" I yelled.

In an upset I ran back toward the Bedu and Ita. Ita was seen crying, hugging the body Obet. People do not care about looks and runs like Bedu is a cat that died crushed cars. I immediately tried to call an ambulance. I then asked for help from people around, but they seem not want involved in the issue. In my heart I cursed them. As this is the face of our society, they have the heart to let people suffer because they do not want to get into trouble. I no longer expect help from petty people like them, I can only hope and pray that the ambulance quickly arrived. Meanwhile, Ita is trying to give first aid. I was only able to see them. Soon the ambulance arrived and immediately gave first aid. He was immediately taken to the hospital, I was and Ita side. During the trip Ita kept crying, holding hands Bedu. Slowly Bedu conscious and suffering on the sidelines of the Bedu, Bedu deliver his last message to us. He removed his grip Ita. He then pointed to himself, forming a symbol of love with both hands and pointed to me and Ita. But fate was not on our side. Shortly after delivering his message that Bedu, Bedu last breath in the ambulance.

Bedu corpses had been cleared and returned to us. We who do not have the what-what can only be buried in a simple Bedu beside our home. What we can do is make a gravestone as beautiful as possible with pieces of wood and plywood used. Into the grave I left my crucifix and holy books are also pictures that I painted. While Ita leave a Rosary hers. Ita was no longer crying, but her eyes still puffy due to crying all night. His face still shows a very deep sadness. So did I. My grief is not visible from the face, but I felt an unusual tightness in my heart. It's not resentment, this is regret my heart because I had let my friend die in front of my eyes. I wish I was more careful of the herd Obet, Bedu there must be a joke here and sing along.

Five years have passed since the death of Bedu. Me and Ita was a long time to get used to without being Bedu. We did not forget it. Bedu remain in our hearts, to protect us. Now I and Ita still live in the same house, but our house was larger because it's not just me and Ita who live there. Some children are wasted like us, we invite to live with. Fortunately there are good people who provide assistance to us so that we can build a fairly decent house for us to live. All I know, he was a social activist. He never told his name, he just asked us to call Mr. De.

I'm with Ita and some street children who have lived with us, still continues to sing at a crossroads, but in a different city. Ita I and decided to move our work because in our area that had been seized by a herd of Obet. We do not want to find a problem with them. Although the Bedu had gone, his spirit has been ingrained in us. I always shouted the words before you start singing.

"Good afternoon all! We are here not for singing because we were not a musician. We are street artists who will continue to dedicate our songs to all creation. Thank you!