Now, he feels that lust turns out to be the tiger that has converted into him. He must accept that lust is himself who has become a tiger, just as it used to be when he rejected that lust, because through him an ugly child was born. He threw away his son, the fruit of his lust, and now that lust has returned to him in the form of a tiger. Feeling it all, he cannot hold back his sadness and pain. And Sumantri is surprised to see the tiger in front of him is in tears. Surprisingly, his heart seems to feel the sadness like being sliced, because only this time he finds that that even a tiger can also cry.
The tiger runs closer, to ask Sumantri to restore him to a human. But he is unable to speak to ask for it. He does not know what to do. He only knows how to act as a tiger. Therefore, he strikes Sumantri. His intention is meant to say, “Son, here I am, your father.” But Sumantri does not understand. He only knows that now the tiger has really attacked him, so he must defend himself by fighting him. He hit the tiger's head with his fist. The tiger feels the hard strike by his hand, thereby causing him to stagger. Then the tiger roars, as if to say, "I taught you to fight, now you use your hands to hit me, son."
Also read:
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (60)
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (59)
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (58)
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (57)
Sumantri is not afraid of the roar. He continues to attack and beat the tiger over and over again. The tiger dodges to the left and to the right. Finally Sumantri hits his head again. The tiger feels like he is hit by a rock with its immeasurable weight. He head aches, his eyes are dizzy. Now he is really angry. And he feels, he can only be angry as a tiger. He attacks Sumantri furiously. His lust is bubbling, ready to claw Sumantri. He does not envision that his lust could turn out to be so powerful.
Who knows, by doing so perhaps he can return to being human again.
For a moment he is reminded of the pleasures of lust, when in the past he rolled around in acts of love with his wife in the courtyard of Jatisrana. He feels that lust is no different from the lust of fury that is now raging in his body. He used to curse his lust, now the curse of lust lives in him. In the past with that lust he laid down his wife, and crushed her body. Now, with the same lust, he wants to eat and tear his son apart. In the past he distinguished love from lust, so that he distinguished Sumantri from Sukrosono. Now it turns out that both are the same. He can kill his child with lust, just like in the past when he was able to lead to the birth to his child with love. For a tiger like him, there is no longer difference between birth and death. Both are the fruit of naked lust. So he pounces on Sumantri fully with lust and he feels himself thinking, let his son die, as long as he can live. Who knows, by doing so perhaps he can return to being human again.
Sumantri is surprised, as the tiger turns out to be incredibly powerful. It is impossible for him to beat him. He stands on the threshold of life and death. He backs away from the tiger’s attack. Without any doubt he immediately spreads his gandewa (bow) and takes Cakrabaskara arrow. The tiger raises his front paws, as though the paws were the hands that want to give a sign, "No, don't let go of the heirloom I gave you." But the arrow already flies, and pierces the tiger's neck. The tiger falls down and transforms into Begawan Swandagni. Sumantri feels like he is being struck by lightning. He runs, hugging his father who is covered in blood. His father is still breathing.
“Father, why do you have to die at my hands?” Sumantri embraces her father with indescribable tears.
"Sumantri, it has become my way of life, in the end you have to kill me with the heirloom I gave you," says Begawan Swandagni falteringly.
"Father, forgive me," Sumantri screams in pain.
"It is not your mistake, son. I am the one who is at fault for my lies. To cover up your departure, I lied to your younger brother by saying you were going to kill a tiger that was disturbing the hermitage. It turns out that lying to your younger brother cursed me to become a tiger," says Begawan Swandagni with the last of his breath.
"Why does all this have to happen, father?" Sumantri asks, not understanding.
"I am the only one who knows about it, my son. There is no need for you to be sadder about what you don't need to know. I don't want to resist this sadness. I accept it, Sumantri, because this is the way to my liberation. It has become my lifeline, you are Sumantri who takes me to meet your mother again."
Also read:
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (56)
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (55)
> The Bajang Child Swinging the Moon (54)
Begawan Swandagni is silent. He knows that death will immediately come for him.
"Sumantri, this is my message to you forever. Don't you ever separate again with your younger brother, Sukrosono. Take him wherever you are going. However ugly he is, he is your blood relative and blood brother, my son." After saying this last message, Begawan Swandagni exhales his breath for the last time.
"Father!" Sumantri's sorrowful screams cannot stop Begawan Swandagni's life from leaving. In his sad screams there is the last chirping of forest birds about to return to their nests. The chirping in the late afternoon, singing about life that will stop existing because the sun must set. Sumantri mourns over his father's body. He lies face downward on him, yet he only embraces silence. He looks up, and sees his father slowly rising, climbing up the stairs holding on to the stalks of the pinda-pinda (offering) trees. The trees of the forest lower their leaves, the clear sky opens, and his father flies among the shattered clouds. There is little sunlight left, and then Begawan Swandagni disappears at the end of the sunset. In the distant sky what is seen is only a cloud of puspakaparna, which drops red lotus leaves. Sweet smelling spreads from the gandapura (gaultheria) bushes, asking for the moon to come out of its nest immediately. Sumantri stares at the clouds, and he only looks at his sadness.
(This article was translated by Hyginus Hardoyo).
