“Bagian terbaik dari jatuh cinta adalah perasaan itu sendiri, Kamu pernah merasakan rasa sukanya, sesuatu yang sulit dilukiskan kuas sang pelukis, sulit disulam menjadi puisi oleh pujangga, tidak bisa dijelaskan oleh mesin paling canggih sekalipun. Bagian terbaik dari jatuh cinta bukan tentang memiliki. Jadi, kenapa kamu sakit hati setelahnya? Kecewa? Marah? Benci? Cemburu? Jangan-jangan karena kamu tidak pernah paham betapa indahnya jatuh cinta.”
― Tere Liye, Hujan

baca selengkapnya disini

Namanya Ali, 15 tahun, kelas X. Jika saja orangtuanya mengizinkan, seharusnya dia sudah duduk di tingkat akhir ilmu fisika program doktor di universitas ternama. Ali tidak menyukai sekolahnya, guru-gurunya, teman-teman sekelasnya. Semua membosankan baginya. Tapi sejak dia mengetahui ada yang aneh pada diriku dan Seli, teman sekelasnya, hidupnya yang membosankan berubah seru. Aku bisa menghilang, dan Seli bisa mengeluarkan petir. Ali sendiri punya rahasia kecil. Dia bisa berubah menjadi beruang raksasa. Kami bertiga kemudian bertualang ke tempat-tempat menakjubkan. Namanya Ali. Dia tahu sejak dulu dunia ini tidak sesederhana yang dilihat orang. Dan di atas segalanya, dia akhirnya tahu persahabatan adalah hal yang paling utama.

jika anda ingin membacanya lebih lanjut 

click here

 Buku ini berkisah tentang petualangan tiga sahabat. Raib bisa menghilang. Seli bisa mengeluarkan petir. Dan Ali bisa melakukan apa saja. Buku ini juga berkisah tentang persahabatan yang mengharukan, pengorbanan yang tulus, keberanian, dan selalu berbuat baik. Karena sejatinya, itulah kekuatan terbesar di dunia paralel. 

click here

 

The Rainbow Troops, chapter 1: Ten New Students

           That morning , when I was just a boy, I sat on a long bench outside of a school. The branch of an old filicium tree shaded me. My father sat beside me, hugging my shoulders with both of his arms as he nodded and smiled to each parent and child sitting side by side on the bench in front of us.
           It was an important day: the first day of elementary school. At the end of those long benches was an open door, and inside was an empty classroom. The door frame was crooked. The entire school, in fact, leaned as if it would collapse at any moment. In the doorway stood two teachers, like hosts welcoming guests to a party. There was an old man with a patient face, Bapak K.A. Harfan Efendy Noor, or Pak Harfan—the school principal—and a young woman wearing a jilbab, or headscarf, Ibu N.A.Muslimah Hafsari, or Bu Mus for short. Like my father, they also were smiling.
Yet Bu Mus’ smile was a forced smile: she was apprehensive. Her face was tense and twitching nervously. She kept counting the number of children sitting on the long benches, so worried that she didn’t even care about the sweat pouring down onto her eyelids. The sweat beading around her nose smudged her powder makeup, streaking her face and making her look like the queen’s servant in Dul Muluk, an ancient play in our village.
          “Nine people, just nine people, Pamanda Guru, still short one,” she said anxiously to the principal. Pak Harfan stared at her with an empty look in his eyes.
I too felt anxious. Anxious because of the restless Bu Mus, and because of the sensation of my father’s burden spreading over my entire body. Although he seemed friendly and at ease this morning, his rough arm hanging around my neck gave away his quick heartbeat. I knew he was nervous, and I was aware that it wasn’t easy for a 47-year-old miner with a lot of children and a small salary to send his son to school. It would have been much easier to send me to work as a helper for a Chinese grocery stall owner at the morning market, or to the coast to work as a coolie to help ease the family’s financial burdens. Sending a child to school meant tying oneself to years of costs, and that was no easy matter for our family.
          My poor father. I didn’t have the heart to look him in the eye. It would probably be better if I just went home, forgot about school, followed in the footsteps of some of my older brothers and cousins, and became a coolie …
My father wasn’t the only one trembling. The face of each parent showed that they weren’t really sitting on those long benches. Their thoughts, like my father’s, were drifting off to the morning market as they imagined their sons better off as workers. These parents weren’t convinced that their children’s education, which they could only afford up to junior high, would brighten their families’ futures. This morning they were forced to be at this school, either to avoid reproach from government officials for not sending their children to school, or to submit to modern demands to free their children from illiteracy.

TIPS AGAR GEMAR MEMBACA

Lewat buku, kamu jadi tahu segala hal yang sebelumnya kamu nggak tahu. Memang sih sekarang sudah ada yang namanya internet, tapi keberadaan buku tetap nggak bisa tergantikan.

Sayangnya nih, kebanyakan dari kamu pasti nggak suka membaca kan?

Hmm, sayang sekali, Loopers, padahal lewat membaca, kamu bakal punya wawasan yang luas lho.

Nah, biar kamu jadi berwawasan luas, mulai sekarang kamu harus suka membaca. Nih Loop kasih tips biar kamu jadi gemar membaca. Simak ya.