ABHIMANYU WORLD

Chapter XIV: Special Guest

Happiness and sadness in human life are like two sides of a coin. Real close. So close, we cannot predict when it will come. Both of them fill the sheets of our lives.

A few minutes ago I was still laughing happily because I had finished UTS well. The next minute my tears were shed for the loss of a figure I loved dearly.

Who can guess?

The bus I was riding seemed to be walking like a snail. Along the way, as hard as possible try to stay firm. I am just a fragile ordinary human being. Tears continue to shed unstoppably. A mother sitting next to me gave me a piece of tissue.

“Having broken up yes, Mas?” tanyanya.

Unanswered.

Bullshit with love!

It's ironic with the definition of love that just vaulted with friends a few nights ago.

Towards the magrib, I arrived at my hometown, greeted with tears and hugs from my mother. In my mother's arms, all emotions were spilled. I just want this whole thing to be a dream. But in fact, this is a bitter pill that I have to swallow.

The next day, I was preoccupied with all the necessities of the funeral procession. Thank God, we live in a village that still upholds a sense of family and mutual support, so I was very helped.

The neighbors came uninvited. Tahlilan will be held at home seven days in a row. Surely there is no way that I can only have my chin up to see the busy neighbors and relatives.

It was a bit awkward to gather with the village elders. They gave instructions on what to do. Remember, I am the oldest son in the family. I need to be able to make a decision quickly and precisely. Honor is at stake here.

Calculate learning if later become the head of a real family.

Towards noon, villagers accompanied by coffins to the cemetery area not far from home. Some residents stood by the side of the road, paying their last respects to the father. As the saying goes, a dead tiger leaves stripes, a dead elephant leaves tusks. While the dead leave the mind. Thank God, the name of the father is quite as bright as in our village.

The funeral procession went well. I can control my emotions. Mother and Weni also looked very tough. These are the amazing women in my life.

The leaves of the frangipani shed slowly over the burial ground. The mourners have left the cemetery.

I'm still holding on.

“I promise, Sir. I'll take care of Mom and Weni. I'll make them happy. Now you are calm, you are with us again. May you have the best place,” whispered me.

Mother and Weni waited faithfully.

Once I was satisfied with my emotions, I walked towards the house. But this heart was still left in that still wet burial ground.

Entering the day gate, the neighbors still came unceasingly. There were also relatives from afar who had just come. I replaced my father. Yeah, I'm the number one boy. Of course the responsibility towards the family turned to my shoulders.

Be honest. It wasn't easy.

In addition to neighbors and relatives, the visit of my friends from Surabaya is also very entertaining. Friends-struggling one contract came by the afternoon using Andre's car. They spoke a deep sorrow. Even Doni, who was usually full of laughter, seemed sincerely giving me a hug. Unfortunately, no more tears were shed. Everything has dried up.

“Patiently yes, Bi..” hug Doni.

I'm nodding.

“If you need anything by the way, Bi! We're ready!” bargain Andre.

“We are your brother, Bi. So do not hesitate,” added Farhan.

I'm moved. Really, it makes me sadder.

“Thank you. You guys don't bother. We've had enough here,” I said.

Unfortunately, they did not visit for long. They had to go back to Surabaya that night as well. Don't forget they gave me an envelope.

“No need to wear this ah!” reject me.

I returned the envelope.

I realized, we are both students who do not have their own income. A thousand dollars would be worth it. For us, a thousand rupiahs can buy sachet shampoo if we are in a financial crisis.

“Already, just accept!” force Andre.

“Number is not much, Bi. We hope to be useful. Make additional buy cigarettes....” added Farhan.

Farhan's right. He understood very well, that cigarettes are a mandatory dish at tahlil events. Various slogans prohibiting smoking that are often echoed by health practitioners are considered wind past by them. As if throat cancer, heart attack and impotence are similar to the common cold that can come and go at any time.

I'm speechless. Then remembered the wise old woman's advice on the train at that time.

Alright. I relented.

I had to take the envelope full. Kuintip. There are some red notes in it.

Alhamdulillahot.

They are my best friends. It will forever be.

After the death of Doni's entourage, Darwis also came with several friends one major. One by one they are happy. Really, this visit was quite unexpected. Their solidarity deserves a thumbs up even though on campus I was known as an unpopular and hilarious person. Yes, I am a person who is less social in college. There's a little shame tucked away. Maybe after this should be more friendly to them.

They also visited briefly, because they had to return to Surabaya. But that little togetherness makes the atmosphere of the house warm.

At the same time, the neighbors are still downstream to take care of all the needs for tahlil tomorrow.

After Darwis died, I thought the visit from my friends would be over. But there is still a third book.

Save the best for the last. The last one is the most effective visit.

A special guest I never expected to visit when it was late. His face looked tired, but he could still smile for me. He also kissed my mother. Accompanied by one of his friends, he came with a large parcel.

A parcel?

Yes, parcels!

I may think I'm having a birthday.

I really appreciate his arrival. The parcel contains just his help. I get that. They came without a parcel, already creating unspeakable happiness.

“We all mourn the passing of your father, Abi...” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied.

Actually, there is not much that we talk about because other guests are also still coming. Not to mention the relatives of the father from outside the city also just came.

“Mas, tea and cake...”.

Suddenly I saw a sweet face carrying a tray of tea and cakes for my guests.

Oh, Laracati.

I almost forgot the look on his face.

“Thank you, Baras..”.

The girl stole a look at me timidly. My eyes caught his sight. As usual, her beauty was so naturally engulfed in a somewhat gloomy neon light that night.

The special guest apparently had a lot to talk about as well. He finished two glasses of warm tea and three lemper seeds.

Maybe he was hungry because of the trip from Surabaya.

There is a part of the story that touches the heart, when his father also died in a traffic accident three years ago. He told me that he was attending his best friend's birthday when the news came. Not only his father, but his five-year-old sister also became a victim.

He told me with teary eyes.

I sighed, feeling every sentence that was said. Perhaps that is what has affected his personality to this day. Now I know why he behaves like that.

An hour before midnight, the special guest said goodbye.

“We have to go home. The stoic ones yes! We look forward to your presence next week! Keep fighting, Bi!” abugn.

“Be careful yes!”

He's nodding.

I stared at the departure of the special guest in amazement. It was beyond my expectations.

See you in Surabaya, Dahlia Sukmawati....

***