By: Wahyu Iryana
Historian and Cultural Activist from Cirebon
Amid the green expanse of Indramayu’s rice fields and the northern coastal breeze, a gentle voice continues to resonate behind the wayang screen. It is not merely the sound of gamelan or the witty banter of Cepot and Dawala, but a whisper of ancient wisdom flowing softly through the movements of the dalang. In the coastal style of Wayang Kulit Purwa Carangan, Dalang H. Anom Rusdi has sculpted a sacred narrative that still echoes today: The Heirloom Scroll of Kalimasada.
To the casual viewer, this play might appear as just a fragment of the grand Mahabharata. But to coastal communities, especially in Indramayu and Cirebon, Kalimasada is more than a magical scroll. It is an heirloom of values—a legacy of voice rather than object. And in the creative hands of H. Anom Rusdi, Kalimasada lives not only on the screen but also in the hearts of the people.
The Origin of the Heirloom
In H. Anom Rusdi’s carangan (creative interpretation), the origins of Kalimasada stretch far beyond the Pandavas, predating even the stage of wayang and the divine palace of Batara Guru. It begins with Sanghyang Wenang, the primordial being, who created a sacred heirloom of light and sound. This was not a kris or a spear, but a layang a scroll that could only be read by a pure heart.
This heirloom was passed down to Sanghyang Ismaya, the eldest son of Sanghyang Tunggal a divine figure known for his wisdom and inner turmoil. But, as often happens in wayang lore, destiny is not determined by closeness to heaven, but by one’s willingness to descend to earth.
Sanghyang Ismaya was eventually cast out of the heavens due to a dispute over the celestial throne with his brothers, Manikmaya and Antaga. He descended into Jagat Ampah, the filthy, quiet, and shadowy world below. There, he took the name Semar, a divine clown figure ugly in form, but bright in spirit.
Semar, the Hidden Bearer of Kalimasada
What’s compelling about H. Anom Rusdi’s interpretation is that Kalimasada is not passed directly to the warriors—but kept safe by Semar, hidden beneath his belly fat and humble words. This sacred heirloom would only emerge when the world faced peril, when humans lost their way, when leaders grew distant from the people.
“Kalimasada is a scroll of humanity,” says Semar in one of the many oft-repeated lines in Anom Rusdi’s performances. “Its contents are not spells, but feeling not incantations, but compassion.”
Semar never unleashes Kalimasada as a miracle weapon. Instead, it manifests through advice, humor, and simplicity. Kalimasada, then, becomes not a tool to defeat enemies—but a remedy for the soul.
Carangan as a West Javanese Interpretation of an Indian Epic
H. Anom Rusdi’s Kalimasada is not entirely new within wayang storytelling traditions. But his carangan shows how West Javanese coastal culture particularly in Indramayu and Cirebon has absorbed the Indian epic and recast it through the lenses of Islamic ethics, Javanese wisdom, and the spiritual sensibilities of ordinary people.
Here, Kalimasada is not solely Bima’s inheritance, but a symbol of truth, advice, and compassion. Bima’s quest to retrieve Kalimasada becomes a kind of spiritual ascent, not a blood-soaked heroic journey. In one performance in Jatibarang village, Anom Rusdi stages Bima’s passage through the “Cave of Voices” a silent space penetrable only by those who can be both silent and sincere.
Semar hands over Kalimasada to the Pandavas not as a physical object, but through an embrace. “This is the scroll I’ve kept in my chest. Now it is time to release it. But do not use it for personal victory. Use it to understand the feelings of the people.”
Lyrical Social Critique in the Dalang’s Hand Movements
One of H. Anom Rusdi’s strengths is his subtle social critique, delivered through humor and satire. In one scene, Dawala asks, “Father, why is Kalimasada hidden?”
Semar replies, “Because too many leaders today only want the heirloom, but refuse to feel what the people feel. They want power but reject the burden of suffering alongside their people.”
The audience laughs, but the joke carries a sting. In an era of corruption, religious distortion, and elite manipulation, Kalimasada emerges as a quiet voice reminding us that power is not a right, but a trust. An heirloom is not a symbol of privilege but a reminder of responsibility.
Kalimasada and the Kalimah Syahadat: A Noble Acculturation
In Anom Rusdi’s hands, the Kalimasada scroll is also gently linked to Islamic teachings. In some scenes, as the scroll is opened, the chant La ilaha illallah, Muhammadur Rasulullah echoes softly. A clever way to infuse Islamic identity into local tradition without severing its cultural roots.
Kalimasada becomes a poetic parallel to the Kalimah Syahadat: the declaration of faith in the Oneness of God and the Prophet Muhammad, wrapped within a wayang performance rich in visual beauty and spiritual depth.
This is what makes Anom Rusdi’s work significant: it doesn’t just tell a story. It builds a bridge—between Hindu epics, Islamic values, and Javanese tradition. In times of cultural fragmentation, such interpretation becomes a unifying oasis.
Coastal Wayang and Hopes for the Future
The Kalimasada performance is not just a relic of the past. It is a mirror of the present. In a time when people are confused about whom to trust, Kalimasada teaches that truth lies in silence, compassion, and the willingness to listen not in grand speeches.
For the youth, watching this performance is like peering into a mirror: filled with satire, longing, and hope. Semar never asks us to be perfect. He simply asks us to be honest—and brave enough to be humble.
And Kalimasada need not be sought in mountains or forests. It can be found in simple homes, in prayer halls, or in the chests of farmers who never betray their land.
A Sinden’s Lullaby of Advice
As the performance nears its end, the sinden begins a soft, haunting tune. Her voice rises like incense through the night:
“Dear child, the strong are not those who rule,
But those who bear pain with grace.
Kalimasada is not a prize,
But a whisper
Heard only by hearts that choose to listen.
Be like Semar
not mighty, but mindful;
not high, but humble.
For in this shadow play of life,
the wisest often wear a clown’s mask.”
And when the screen is finally lowered, the audience walks home in silence some smiling, some pondering. The night no longer seems empty. Somewhere in the quiet, Kalimasada still speaks.
