I had always been an odd one in the eyes of my peers.

Born and raised in Jakarta, I was the product of an urban capitalism that moved too fast for my liking.

A sprawling city that never allowed you to catch your breath.

My parents had named me rama, after the hero of an folk lore epic,

But I always question those idea of heroism

I think of Heroes as only a tool of the oppressors a binding construct to keep the masses obedient.

By the time I reached university, I was tag as being "troublesome" by my lecturers, and a "Utopian advocate" by my few friends who stayed close to me.

I never was interested in the career paths laid out for me by the prior oppressors.

Economics? Sure its fun, but not the capitalism they spoon-fed at lectures.

Politics? Definitely, but only if it was about dismantling the current systems of power and empowering the mass. 

I began creating a the small group of students who huddled with me under big beringin tree's I named them "The Collective."

They were a ragtag bunch idealists, and people who thought that the world could be changed by sheer force of will.

They spoke in hushed tones about revolution, about tearing down inequality, about putting an end to a system that only served those at the top.

For them, communism was not a relic of a bygone age; it was a beacon, a vision of something better in a world mired in corruption and greed.

I wasn't naïve enough to put my named in my own group, I knew how dangerous his ideas were.

The ghost of Indonesia's past (G30 September PKI) haunted their meetings.

The purges and propaganda still casting a long shadow over any discussion of socialism or communism.

My parents always warned me about it. My father had spoken to me in an uncharacteristically soft tone, telling me to be careful, to keep my head down.

My mother begged me to think of his future, to not throw it all away for a cause she couldn't understand.

But I never couldn't stop.

The fire in me burned brighter than the fire around me.. wait that was in a game but still that quote haunted me..

And my gut wouldn't let me rest because EVEN HE NEVER REST.

The inequalities i saw around, the squalor and poverty juxtaposed with the glitzy high-rises.

the political elites laughing at the same jokes while ordinary people struggled was all to much for me to bare. 

And that evening, in the rain, as I crossed the street near the campus entrance,

I was still thinking about the post in X he just twitted in that afternoon. He remembered the skeptical comments, the arguments, the few likes of approval.

The rain had made the streets slick, the neon lights from the convenience store flickering in shallow puddles.

I was halfway across when the horn blared, a guttural warning swallowed by the rumble of rain and the screech of tires.

I turned my head just in time to see it A truck was bearing down on him too fast to avoid.....

Leaving only darkness...

I opened his eyes to light. A soft, white glow that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

My body, or at least what felt like a body, floated in that gentle glow, untethered and free.

There was no pain, no broken bones, just a weightlessness that felt almost comforting.

[Welcome, Rama.]

The voice was calm, echoing inside his head rather than reaching his ears.

He blinked, disoriented, trying to make sense of the situation. Where am I!?

[You have died.]

The bluntness of the words cut through the confusion, and for a moment, I could do nothing but absorb the statement. Seeing that word that drift.

Dead. The truck, the rain, the slick road...it all returned to him in a rush....

[You will be reborn,] the voice continued, [in a new world.]

I felt something...is it fear? Excitement?

The concept of being reborn, of having another chance, stirred something within him... 

He'd been fighting for a revolution of a new world.

This was my time my opportunity.

"What kind of world?" he asked, his thoughts echoing in the empty darkness.

[That is for you to discover,] the voice replied, [but know that fate, fortune, and your own choices will shape your path.]

A new world. A blank slate. I felt my fire burned bright

I did not know what lay ahead of me but what ever it is... it will be better than my previous world... I'm sure of it. 

I would fight for something better, for the people who had no voices, for the ideals that had driven him in his past life.

The light shifted, narrowing, pulling in on itself as it began to condense.

The sensation was strange, like being squeezed through something too small, and yet, My soul burned bright this time I'll succeed

In a world where the fight could be won. Where communist will be victorious...