Among Thousand Journeys

Nglirip Waterfall

After I got home, I went to my room, and

I put the two things in front of me and then I covered the pillow, I began to be wired, read the fatehah to the Prophet, and read the fatihah to the three hadams of sincere letters, read the letter three times, read the letter three times, salute to the hadam inhabiting both objects, and

“For the absolute power of Allah, return you to your origin, with the permission of Alloh... Allohu akbar,”

Then pat the pillow, and I open it, the two things are gone, and that's my first experience I got wesi aji, also agate,, and,,

After that incident, there have been countless of me

visited, khadam-khadam, keris, agate, and various kinds of heirlooms, asked to be treated, but I did not

ever wanted to accept.

I'll tell you a little bit about my experience

about me being visited by khadam pusaka.

At that time I was looking for fresh air, and a little entertainment, I decided to go to

Nglirip, which is a waterfall tourist spot, in

jojogan Stopover, Tuban.

Arriving in Nglirip after buying small meals and soft drinks I climbed to the top of a small hill, where there was a funeral.

I sat on the edge of the ravine, while eating nuts and enjoying the view.

What a beautiful view, far down there the rice fields are spread like velvet tapestries, small houses that are only visible

tile alone, how small we are in the hands of allOH Taala power,,

The trees are like small barns, and when the eyes are facing east, there is a small hill, with the rice fields of Tumpang sari, like a giant ladder, the sound of cows being plowed by farmers, like the sound of the village's innocent call.

The way of the rats of the peasants who will go to the fields, like a small snake that extends, the,

Right under my feet, about ten meters, right,

there's a highway, around the hill, underneath, right,,

The river that flows continues to the

villages and rice fields, the focus of the farmers' lives, one meter down there is a park, where young people are dating, while enjoying nature, chatting with each other, or imagining the future.

Below is a small food vendor. And the drink stalls were also downhill, saw small children and some women carrying firewood on their backs, walking. Down the road

kampongs.

Behind the stall, a gaping chasm, and where the waterfall gushed, at this time

the drought is just beginning, the water under me

it's green.

The falling water and its splash were blown by the wind,

the vapor is sucked into the sun, when the light

the sun touches it, creating a rainbow bias, curving beautifully.

What a perfect natural painting.

The beauty that overlaps, makes

people's eyes stare in admiration, and the heart plays a role, judgment returns to the Khalik for

the one who has faith in his chest, and for the one who is empty of faith, considers this an ordinary occurrence.

I decided to make a short pilgrimage to Abdul Jabar. The tomb of the man who was there, who my parents thought was still related to me, and reached Jaka Tingkir, mas Karebet.

But I'd like to make a pilgrimage, considering him

Older scholars, who fought

Islam, because it was afternoon I decided

for overnight stay at mushola, next to the cemetery,,

Where there are also many travelers who deliberately

overnight.

After the magrib prayer and congregational prayer, I continued to read my daily dhikr, until the night after I slept.

In the dream I felt encountered by the old man with a white head, and his face looked gently at me.

The mustache and beard are white and not too

a lot, his clothes were jet black he said.

“Ngger..! Tomorrow wait for the legacy that is rightfully yours, at the fork of Anjlog.”

That's all he said and then he disappeared.

I woke up, and I saw everyone

revert.

The next morning after the dawn prayer, I took a bath in

the river, whose water is so cold, the mist

down makes the visibility short. Only

two meters away.

Dew on the grass also looks very thick like a thin white carpet stretched, after bathing, cold no longer feels biting bone.

Because the fog that fell was too thick

the trees were like giant shadows.

But the village women I saw coming out of the fog, their voices joking as if they were not

there are life difficulties to be faced, BBM

the price soared, the staple materials that came soaring up, as if not a problem for them, every face decorated with cheerfulness, and,

I am sure the women are not rich people.

They are just simple people, though,

cook with firewood taken in the forest, what they cook is the rice they grow and they harvest themselves,, and,,

Then brought to the mill, their side dishes they also planted themselves, so what to worry about again,,

Maybe go in the car, not necessarily two or three years they ride in the car, so even though gasoline by the government is raised by one million, it also does not affect them, he said, for riding in a car for the people of this mountain is a torment of its own, that is, the torment of drunkenness of travel.

They're like

it has its own state, called the Republic

understated. Life isn't cool, it's just makes up.

The women greeted me when

passing in front of me.

“Nderek punten gus.!”

“Manggo... ngatos-atos...” replied.

I stepped away from Nglirip, and all its beauty.

I was curious about my dream last night, was it just a sleeping flower??

Triangle Anjlog about two kilos, downhill road, if taken by bicycle may not be ten minutes without

paddled, because the road is down, instead

it's dangerous not to have brakes.

I took that road on foot,

it was still morning, and the fog was thick

once, walking is certainly healthy.

By the T-junction of Anjlog, the sun had risen, leaving a thinning mist, leaving water droplets on the leaves and grass, glowing like beads of pearls.

Some school children in groups waiting for the bus, some in dark blue uniforms, meaning Junior High School children, there are also teenagers in gray uniforms, meaning High School children, and so on,,

If there is a High School here yes Bukit Tinggi school, it is the name of an advanced school on the hill so it is called Bukit Tinggi School,,

I actually want to find breakfast, but every roadside stall I ask, always answers immature, I see there's a meatball wagon, too, and,,

Ah breakfast meatballs are also okay if there is a meatball, so if the taste is also better, I see the meatballs arrange the bowl, I approach.

“The taxi is already bang?” my many.

“Before gus...., please sit down first..!”

said respectfully.

“Lontongnya there is bang..?”

“Oh no-no, much..”.

I went into the bamboo houses,

made haphazard and improbable, only

to protect the meatball bookers in order to enjoy the meatballs order comfortably.

Tak Ayal Saos, soy sauce, sambal, lined up in front of me..

Seriate.....