Assalamu'Alaikum Love

Will You Marry Me?

Gibran

I just closed the book fiqih muamalah which since in the library so seized my attention when someone almost hit me at the entrance hall campus which is not too wide. And if I didn't have a good reflex, I would have hit that guy and we would both end up being ridiculous.

“Astagfirullah, sorry.” The strangulation of the girl who may be regretful as if she almost hit a lecturer is a big sin. “Sorry sir, I did not accidentally.”

For a moment I was gobsmacked by this pale yellow girl. It made me lose the words I was about to say and chirp with a faint smile.

“It's okay.”

And I must have looked very silly as I only found my sentence back after a while of noticing this pale yellow girl who also looked confused.

“Why does it feel familiar?” I muttered as I climbed the stairs to the second floor where my desk was.

I'm sure this is the first time I've met or passed the pale yellow girl, but somehow it feels like I've met her before. I'm not a typical person endowed with photogenic memory, and remembering someone I've met in the past is something I find really hard to do. Even my High School friends I've forgotten who and what their faces look like. That was why I chose to give up and ignore the tingling feeling that arose due to the accidental encounter between me and that pale yellow-colored-thrumpy girl.

“If the person is effective for you, you will definitely easily remember the person even if you have met just once, mas.”

But still I remembered it again as soon as I dropped down on my chair and waited for my teaching hours to start in fifteen minutes. And sitting alone in the faculty office without a lecturer in the room made my memory suddenly twisted in someone's sentence. A simple sentence is indeed, it's just as simple as any sentence, if he said it would still be something important to me. Something simple and then it becomes important, and it ends up making me feel riled up on my own.

“How can I remember if for example we met many years ago and I just met him, Da?”

“This may sound funny, but I thought there would always be strange vibrations running through my body when I met someone I obviously had never met. And I call that a soul mate.”

“As when my heart trembled the first time it met you? And that means we are fooled dong?”

As of now, I even repeatedly clucked in annoyance and pressed the drinking water inside my glass that still contained half. Achieve the dictates and attendance of students before moving from my chair with a huff. For the umpteenth time a Gibran Wibisana was riled up by something that came from his past. Something I obviously didn't want to remember, but it always had a gap to infiltrate through the sidelines of my heart and end up making me this way.

“Focus, Gibran.”

This isn't the first time. And it has always been like this whenever something from the past suddenly greets me shamelessly and transforms me from a neglected Gibran figure into a melancholy Gibran like a daughter. Ah, not from the real past, but everything that reminds me of him.

“You,”

Either the universe that was conspiring woke up my melancholy side or fate that was making me believe in what Aida had said in the past.

Just as I raised my head and said hello to all the students in this class, my eyes were fixed on a girl sitting in the row of seat number two and seemed to be busy with an agenda book in front of her. The girl even just answered my greetings without bothering to look at me. The pale yellow girl who almost hit me.

“I Gibran Wibisana, and from today will be able to study Islamic management and fiqih muamalah.” And the pale yellow girl had just turned her head when a shoulder-haired girl sitting next to her nudged and whispered something to her. Making the girl squint for a moment and smile thinly afterwards. Geez, how could I who was in the previous class so indifferent to the students who seemed so interested in me, now actually be so interested in one of my students?

“Sir Gibran,” and I only realized that I had acted so cheaply when the voice of a student made me aware.

“Ya?” a college student in a dark blue checkered shirt looked at me strangely as if I were a pervert lecturer who just kept paying attention to his students. And I didn't lie when I said that the pale yellow girl was looking at me.

“Father does not enter this class to invite us to daydream, right?”

“Oh yes, sorry. Then how about this first meeting we fill with introductions only?”

And of course my offer was met with the happy cheers of the students. But actually it's just an alibi because I'm not a typical guy who likes to be friendly with others even with my own students. But then again the pale yellow girl made me lower my pride by passing on one by one the students in the class just so I could know what her name was.

“Various Rose,” an orange veiled girl raises her right hand and looks at me enthusiastically.

Until I called the student in 29th place, the pale yellow girl had not raised her hand and kept busy with her agenda book and pen in hand. It was as if the existence of the young lecturer in front of the classroom was something worthy of him to ignore like this.

“Faza Aulia,” At first I thought it was the name of a male student because in my brain the name ‘Faza’ is the nickname of one of the princes in Saudi Arabia there. Before the silly thought was immediately vanished because in fact the name ‘Aulia’ is clearly the name of a woman.

“Faza Aulia?” I repeat again because no one has raised their hand to signify the owner of this name. And I was just about to pass by that name when the pale yellow-thin girl gasped and raised her right hand. Two seconds our gazes were blaring. It was only two seconds before the pale yellow-thorched girl named Faza Aulia looked down again. But two seconds is enough to make me feel bad.

Aulia Faza. Instantly, my attention was stolen. Not by the figure of a beautiful girl with pale yellow glamour and her black hijab. Not by the name of Faza which is similar to the nickname of one of the princes of Saudi Arabia. But my attention was stolen by something bigger than that. I've seen Faza before. Not at the entrance of the campus hall a few hours ago, but long before that.

I was trying to remember it before the desire to remember and open the compartment of my past was defeated by the ego of a Gibran Wibisana who would not admit that a grown man like himself was attracted to a young girl who became his student.

* * * * *

“What's with the climate today?” my grunt was upset when I realized that the rain that had fallen two hours ago had not shown signs of subsiding and was getting louder with the wind. I'm sure it's now February and it shouldn't be raining this hard. But in fact it rained from morning to afternoon as if this was December.

If only the distance of building one and building two were only a few meters, I would not wait later to immediately break through the rain and arrive at the parking lot of building one. But really, the distance of building one and building two is even nearly two hundred meters and I would look ridiculous if I broke through this rain to get to the parking lot of building one. Not to mention the heaps of files and backpacks containing laptops that I have to protect like I'm protecting this person I love. Inevitably I just took one more breath and looked up to notice the rain in February which made me feel like I was in December.

“Rain in February.” Mumamku weird.

Waiting for the rain to subside alone on the terrace of the second building made my mind and imagination roam everywhere. Geez, even I had a run of poems in my head that made me grimace myself like a strange man.

“In a hurry, sir?” I had just returned to glancing at the watch on my left wrist for the fifth time as my attention was distracted by the voice of a woman beside me.

“Oh, no kok.” the girl stood two steps away from me and looked at me with a flat face. The girl with the pale yellow. This is the third time I've met this girl in a single day. And for the third time my attention was stolen by him. “Just thinking about when the rain will subside a little.” My heart with laughter that even sounded strange in my own ears.

“Typically rain like this will fall till night, sir.” She stuck her right hand in the pocket of the red-brick jacket she was wearing, while her left hand held an umbrella.

“Not that your class has been finished since two hours ago, huh?” ah yes, I remember now that this girl's class had been over since two o'clock ten minutes along with the end of my teaching hours today. Why did he not go straight home? Well, it's none of my business why a student doesn't come home so soon after college is over. I was just trying to melt the atmosphere.

“There are activities in LPM, sir.” This time the girl leaned her umbrella against the pillar beside her and checked her phone. “Wait, do you remember my class?” her asking with a strange face that was unyielding made me laugh a little.

“Faza Aulia, class A3 semester six Islamic Management study program.”

“Wah, there are rarely new lecturers who can directly memorize students, sir.” And I'm actually going to answer that I only memorized it with her before my common sense wouldn't allow me to lower my self-esteem to under my feet to admit it to Faza.

Faza Aulia, a pale yellow girl with a wide hijab that was all along the class was so ignorant of my existence that I could actually have a chat like this.

And I forgot the last time I was so comfortable being around strangers like this. Faza Aulia was obviously still a stranger to me because I only knew her this morning, even though it felt like I had known the girl for a long time. Geez, again I feel defeated by a young girl who became my own student.

“Maybe because your class is so memorable for me, so it's easy to remember.”

“And sir Gibran was the first lecturer to praise our class like that.” for reasons I didn't know, I was impressed to hear Faza mention my name.

“If you don't mind, Mr. Gibran can use my umbrella to arrive at the parking lot.”

“Ya?” of course I couldn't help but frown at hearing Faza's sentence that sounded like the girl was reading my mind.

“Bapak is in a hurry ‘kan? You can use my umbrella.” A young girl offered me an umbrella. I don't know why I'm like deja vu and feel like I've been in this situation before. It's just that my simple brain is too reluctant to recall or just pick up an incident in the past related to an umbrella and a young girl.

“You yourself how?”

“Let me wait for a passing friend, sir. It's okay.”

It took me a few seconds until I decided to accept the umbrella that Faza offered me. He opened it and smiled when he realized the umbrella was displaying the logo of a well-known newspaper publishing company. Now I know why this girl needs to linger at the LPM campus.

“Come, it looks like your umbrella is wide enough for both of us.” I did not brag when I said that Faza had gasped at my invitation. “After all, it's too late to wait for a friend who passed by.”

“Ehm...” and maybe the reaction Faza gave was something normal because the girl didn't want anyone else to see her rowing with me.

“It's okay, no one else will sneer at you just for paddling with your own lecturer, Faza.” And again it took a few seconds until the girl gave a faint nod and offered to bring me the pile of dictates and documents that I had brought along.

Actually I want to ask where and how this girl came home. Ask who he's coming home with and what he's doing in the campus LPM room on his first day of college after the semester break. It's just that all the questions that I thought were just stuck at the tip of my tongue until we unconsciously reached the parking lot of building one.

“Who are you going home with?” And, I finally asked him too.

“Self, sir.”

“So, thanks for the ride on her umbrella, Faza.”

Once again the girl smiled and made me return that smile. “Good afternoon then, Mr. Gibran. Assalamu’alaikum.”

“Wa’alaikumussalam warahmatullahi wabarakatuh.”

Until the girl passed by from the side of my car with her umbrella and walked towards the campus gate, I still watched her from the rear view mirror until the figure of Faza Aulia disappeared beside the campus gate. Also, when was the last time a Gibran Wibisana returned greetings from someone so completely and sincerely?

“Rain and a girl. Why am I so bothered by those two things?”

* * * * *