Among Thousand Journeys

Putting together a fragment of imagination

That night I was alone painting, the wall clock showed two in the morning, the silence of the night was gripping right tonight, the cold air pierced the bones, the ginger coffee had been run out, I drowned, whether the Djarum cigarette I lit in my mouth, to drive away the quiet in my solitude, from afar I heard the humble dog barking bristling my hair, I still tried to put together the fragments of my imagination, I still tried to put together, and put a brush on the wall. Suddenly the row of bamboo chairs behind, three meters away creaked, like someone was occupying, I looked at no one, I continued painting again, I continued, expel the fearful thoughts that begin to disperse my concentration. But not for five minutes, I heard the knocks on the bamboo table, I still painted, putting my concentration to my ears and being sure of what I heard, I quickly looked towards the voice. No one, the sound of knocking on the table stopped, maybe if not the person who was grazed repeatedly had slept in the grave, of course I will run down the ridge.

But it's not scaring me but, I'm annoyed not to play, because my concentration is disturbed. I continued to paint again, after I had previously picked up a cigarette Djarum I smeared with a coffee ketek and ignited, but not until five minutes was heard again the sound of a finger tap on the table, this time with a certain musical tone, I still continued to paint, until at the right moment I turned around and thought the place had been tapped, I approached and sat in the front seat, he said, and pretending to look at it, I glared at him, well I whose knowledge is still superficial certainly do not see it, and I am really careless. Because suddenly the window of the restaurant was swaying, the damn thing he had moved, I immediately went to the window, until at the window I stopped, but suddenly the iron gate in front was flailing like a kicked man, I ran to the gate, but there was nobody. I decided to stop painting and step into the musholla to go to sleep.

Just as I was sleeping, I was shocked to open my eyes, and from the door of the musholla walked over a very pretty girl, her thin lips were red, there were dimples when she was smiling, his eyes were clear and full of flakes and the clothes and veils worn from thin silk were blue, so his curves were clearly visible. Ah I want to move but my body is really stiff. Can not be moved at all, like glued with ceramic tiles, ah I really can not do anything when the beautiful woman sat beside me, her hands began to embrace me, she said, then her soft lips touched me, ah I was helpless, fondled and I could not resist, so it happened…..

Waking up in the morning all my body feels pain. Like a man who has worked hard, there is no woman beside me. I may be dreaming. Fortunately during the day I do not work, so I can rest sleep all day, if the big dreams of kayak gini are bothered when I wake up and want to take a bath before dawn prayers, if the dream is big, because there is no water, I became a panting nyari water in the villages, until I found a well near the musholla distance from my place of work there may be about two hundred meters, ah no matter, until I found a well near the musholla distance from my place of work there may be about two hundred meters, I immediately took a tub bath. And his morning prayers came together in the mosque, I was still sitting wirid twisting prayer beads, after performing the morning prayer.

“Assalamu alaikum,” I heard the sound of greetings beside me, I immediately answered the greetings and looked at the old man who was the imam of the mosque.

“Let's play to my father's house..” the man's voice is very smooth. Shaking my hand. I can't resist, without following her from behind. Like a buffalo whipped his nose, after passing about five houses we reached the old man's house, I estimated his age around the cover of his face clean, calm, no mustache and beard, the murat on his face does not show aging because it is covered in obesity, his body is fat but his fat is not excessive. Apparently this old man, was the nanny of the boarding school. That I know, after seeing how many buildings santri rooms lined up, and some santri was in activity. After entering the house I was immediately told to sit in a chair, while the old man entered the house, then sat opposite me.

“If you can know where this child is from?”

“From Tuban East Java sir.” I replied briefly.

“Kok I have never seen this child, where does it live?”

“I work at the diner sir, again

making painting.”

“Oo, so apparently, oh yes kok we have not been acquaintances, my name is Mashuri, people often call Kyai Mashuri.” the man reached out his hand, and soon I get a handshake, “Febrian.”

My answer is short, because my eyes are so sleepy.

“True sir, I am from pesantren P***.”

“Wah pantes his student Kyai L****, worth my look at different.”

“Oh You also know my Kyai?”

“Ah who in Banten does not know the teacher nak mas?” Our conversation stopped, from the door came two girls carrying two trays of food and drink, then placed on the table, when the two girls wanted to go back inside, Kyai Mashuri immediately prevented him and told him to sit on the chair, the other girl was asked to call the other girl, so that in front of me there were now three beautiful girls. I who do not understand what Kyai Mashuri means, sit down.

“Let's Ian, while tasting his food..”.

“Thank you sir, I'm again off.”

“Ah I have guessed is indeed a student of Kyai L***** person of the gemblengan.” said Kyai Mashuri praised.

“This is my son Ian, there are actually five people but the two men, this one.” Kyai Mashuri pointed to the beautiful girl who was beside him. Beautiful girl skinned as white as milk, I estimate the age of nine dozen years, her face cute look dimples when smiling, her lips tiny, her nose is small but her eyes are a bit narrow like the eyes of the Chinese, the eyes are small, his eyebrows are small curved, well if it is powdered in a lip reddener maybe it will be like a doll.

“His name is Juwita, he's just third grade High School, he's my youngest son. Then the next one,” Kyai Mashuri accused the girl next to Juwita, this girl with big bones, but her body was slim her motherly type face, and very sweet with a slightly brown skin ripe, but, her lips were thin and there grew fine whiskers under her tiny nose her eyes looked at meu, her thick eyebrows curving beautifully.

“She's named Anisa, she's in college first degree, and that's my oldest daughter.” Kyai mashuri accused the girl who had last come out. Looks girl who may have aged ripe, simple face full of maturity may be older than me, her posture high until, with a round face egg, her lips red, even without lipstick, her body high, his beard is taper with a nose that is not.....

Seriate.......

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