Assalamu'Alaikum Love

Other Girls

Gibran

Up until three days ago, the Monday night where me and Rudi came to Faza's house to propose to the girl, I had absolutely no idea about ‘the power of tears girls’. Until Monday night, I had absolutely no idea how the tears of a daughter could melt and warm the heart of a father who was almost frozen to ice.

That night, I understood one thing that no matter how angry a father is with his daughter, he would never be willing to cry for her like Faza did last night.

“For God's sake, bah. If by rejecting the proposal, Mr. Gibran can make you believe, Faza will reject this proposal. If by going to Blora can make you believe, then Za will leave for Blora right now, bah. Just so you believe that Faza is still the abah's daughter who has never touched any man except abah and mas Wahyu.”

I almost screamed at Rashid's brother as Faza uttered that line between his tears that kept coming down. And I would have shouted if Rudi had not restrained me and signaled that it was an affair between father and son and I had no right to interfere. But still hearing Faza cry like that while resting in front of his father made my chest tight and was eager to pull the girl to stand up and say that she did not need to rest like that.

But again my common sense again lays out that not all problems can be solved with shouting and anger. There are times when problems can only be solved with gentleness. And once again Faza Aulia taught me that.

“Then immediately specify the wedding date only. You've known each other long enough and it doesn't feel good if you linger and delay your marriage.”

There is happiness that I can not explain when Abah Rashid asked me and om Rudi to immediately determine the date of my marriage with Faza on the grounds of not wanting to arise slander because I and Faza almost met every day at the campus. And of course I agree with that.

“If you can as soon as possible, sir. It is also not good if you linger to let them both without a clear bond.” timpal om Rudi guaranteed by mother and also Revelation, Faza's older brother.

“How about second Monday next month?” abah mole. And I also remember very well how shocked Faza was when his father proposed our wedding date, which meant that it would be held three weeks from the day I proposed to him. Makes me smile without realizing it. “Or want Gibran to negotiate first with family in Jakarta?”

“No, bah. Papa and mama have given all business to Rudi. We ask Faza's opinion, how about the second Monday of next month?”

And again there was happiness I could not call upon as the girl nodded softly in conformity with her father's proposal. Thank God, and the word was almost spoken simultaneously from all the people in the living room of the family of Rashid, not least from Faza even though the girl did not speak.

__________

“Rain at the end of May?” I muttered half angrily as I walked down the stairs from the second floor to the parking lot and found it raining heavily. The heavy rain that fell in the afternoon when I should have returned home after a long day of teaching was not something I wanted to find today. Moreover, this has entered the end of May and the rain should no longer fall.

But the annoyance that I had felt since went out somewhere on the campus terrace that limited the hallway and parking lot I found someone standing there. A girl with a gray robe and her trademark black backpack.

A girl who at the beginning of the meeting stole my attention, made me digress, and also a girl who made me smile strangely like a boy who was first in love.

My future wife.

Ah, just calling the girl as my wife's ‘candidate’ has made me happy not because of this, then how would it be if we were married later?

“Still in half an hour? No, my college is done.” I guess this girl didn't notice my presence until she still noticed the rain still falling while talking to someone I guessed was the Revelation. Sister-in-law candidates who are even two years younger than me, my goodness, how can I call Revelation with the name ‘mas’ later?

“Yes, I wait on the campus terrace. Mas careful on the road, assalamu’alaikum.”

One thing that has always fascinated me about the figure of Faza Aulia, the closeness of the girl with her older brother. Makes me sometimes wish that Renata could get that close and polite to me.

“It looks like it will rain till night,” I said after a while just being quiet and observing Faza. It made the girl with a surprised beard and shifted one step from her position.

“Astaghfirullahal’adzim.”

“Waiting for Revelation?” I asked after a while ago chuckled and stood two steps beside Faza. Sometimes I wonder, if Faza had not been my student, would we have been this ugly despite the fact that we would have been married in less than two weeks?

“Iya, sir.” Even this girl still calls me ‘pak’ instead of replacing it with ‘mas’ because after all I am her future husband. Making me can only grimace myself because being called ‘pak’ by my own future wife makes me look like an old man.

“No activity in LPM ‘kan? Why did it come this afternoon to go home?” ask me because I know the activities on the campus SMEs have been canceled because Monday tomorrow has begun the final semester exam. And finding Faza home until this afternoon did not stop making me frown.

“Tadi asked Pak Beni to collect paper assignments belonging to friends, but there is one group that has not been completed, so it was awaited until four.” If the girl standing next to me wasn't Faza, I might have ruffled her hair and pinched both of her cheeks. But really, she is Faza and I don't want to touch her when my status isn't right to be her husband.

“So.”

“Pak Gibran himself why not go home?”

“So there's a briefing for tomorrow's test Monday.” But even though it was awkward, in fact we could still have a simple conversation like this. Well, at least me and my future wife don't just sit around like two humans who don't know each other.

“Not, it means why not go straight home?”

“Let's go.”

“Let me go home when Wahyu has come.”

“Why wait for Revelation to come, sir? Something you want to talk about?” really, as stupid and naive as this is my future wife to not be able to catch the meaning of my short sentence?

“Nothing, Za. I want to accompany you until the Revelation comes. Can ‘kan?”

Well, even though I have not dared to offer to drive this girl home, I can at least accompany her until her older brother comes to pick her up. And the red tinge on Faza's face made me ask again if that night Faza had not rested before his father, would we be like this today? Although only as simple as standing side by side on the campus terrace in the rain at the end of May.

Actually I wanted to chat and talk a lot with Faza instead of just being quiet and letting the sound of rain fill the gap between us. I want to ask about our wedding preparations, I want to ask if this girl is having any difficulties, also about her college. I wonder how Faza feels right now. Also about many other things that in fact just stuck on the tip of my own tongue without daring to ask the girl.

“Oh yes Za, I told you that tomorrow morning I will go home?” and asking Faza about it even takes a lot of courage. Geez, I've never been this loud just for starting a conversation with a girl.

“Not yet, sir. Abah didn't say anything. What's wrong?”

“Tomorrow our morning and abah to KUA together, register our marriage.” Again my heart warmed when I said ‘wedding kami’ on Faza who still looks clueless.

If only me and Faza had talked about something like this while the lecture hours were still active and the students were still wandering everywhere, it would have been clear that the two of us would have been the subject of gossip afterwards. It's just that I and Faza have to be grateful because the female student is deserted and there are only two cars and a few motorcycles left in the parking lot that I guess belongs to the campus janitor.

“Astaghfirullahal’adzim.” Faza said suddenly while rubbing his face with both hands and making me not understand.

“What's up?”

“Surats. Yesterday I reminded you to prepare your letters, but I forgot.” He replied with remorse while continuing to cover his face with both hands as if he returned my gaze, then he would be punished. Geez, it turns out my future wife is this blanket.

“Means his letters are missing or how?”

“Not, sir.” This time Faza turned his head towards me while taking a deep breath. “But the letters I have not prepared, also blank-blanko that I have not filled.”

I chuckled and saw Faza's facial expression. The facial expression I've been missing from this girl. Or was it Faza who had never put on such a facial expression?

“Then later tonight you have to overtime until all the letters are ready.”

“Then until tomorrow is not ready how?”

“Let's ask help Wahyu to help prepare. So that tomorrow everything is ready.”

“Ah, mas Wahyu if not bribed where to help.” Faza muttered that again made me smile thinly and noticed him as the girl took the phone from her dress pocket and placed it on her right ear.

“Catch here, mas. I don't carry an umbrella.” He said as he looked up and noticed the rain that was still falling profusely.

“Then Wahyu wait at the gate until the rain subsides.” This time Faza chuckled softly. “No no, kidding. I'm going there now. Wa’alaikumussalam.”

“Mas Revelation?”

“Iya. Then I go first, sir.” He said while putting the phone into his black backpack.

“The rain is still heavy like this, Za. You will be sick.”

“Later the Revelation rampage if I don't go there now, sir. Mas Apocalypse it's terrible to come home from work and starve.”

“Use this.” My refutation while thrusting a black jacket that I had only been holding since without intending to wear. “At the very least you won't be soaked to the gate.” In six years, and this is the first time I've offered anything to a girl. Aida used to wear my jacket when it was raining and she forgot not to bring a jacket. And now, I want to do the same to Faza. Not to equate Faza with Aida, but at least I can do something for my future wife at a time like this.

“Thank you, mas. Assalamu’alaikum.”

Even until the girl ran through the rain through the parking lot towards the gate, I was still pecking on the campus terrace and lost my words. I haven't even replied to the greeting that Faza gave because I was so shocked when the girl changed my call from ‘pak’ with ‘mas’ with a timid face.

“Wa’alaikumussalam. Mas's? He just called me with ‘mas’ right?”

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