Between Love and Traditional Java

Takbir Hari Raya

The last day of work before the one-week leave for the holiday is the most awaited moment. All employees are enthusiastic and eager to complete the task on the last day. Many stock shelves are empty. Some of the displays are just a few left.

All the workplaces are busy. The store closes an hour earlier than usual, but that doesn't mean our job is done. We have to clean up some clothes that are scattered. Wrapping the display case with a wide cloth to dispel dust. There will be no activity in this store this week. Ensure all remaining stock is safe. Clean up some of the displays so as not to look chaotic.

The atmosphere at the cashier is getting busy, counting the notes as fast as lightning as I can, recording the financial statements, arranging the money neatly so that it is easy to deposit to the boss, making the calculations as detailed as possible, do not make any mistakes.

The sound of takbir rang all over the city. The atmosphere had to decorate the farewell because some friends resigned after the holiday, some returned to work but had to be moved to other branches. It is a tradition in this store, every year personnel will always be replaced.

Everyone hugged each other, shook hands, and pardoned. This is what will be missed, the togetherness of friendship that is engraved from a deep heart. A year has been equated through the joy of friendship.

Ulya hugged me and apologized to me, I was also moved. Haha, who used to be hostile now felt lost to each other. Tonight the tears of farewell accompany every human heart full of love.

The car from the central store has arrived. Usually all branch store employees who are domiciled in one city with a central store will be picked up back to the central store, before finally returning home to each other. While those who live around the branch store will go home alone with a goodie bag containing holiday parcels.

In this place I learned a lot, will be responsible, know love and heartbreak, the meaning of friendship and kinship. All of this is really a process to maturity. Very delightful.

"I'm on my way home" I sent a text to Danial, he promised to pick me up at the central store and take me home. I had permission before on my mother. He allowed it because he believed in Danial. I got the green light from my parents.

Arriving at the central store, I had already seen Danial from the windshield of the car, he was standing next to his motorbike. After saying goodbye and shaking hands with Umi I went out to the gate. Sometimes I cuddle with some friends from various branches I meet while I walk.

"It's been a while?" I asked Danial.

"Not yet, want to go straight home or take a walk first," Danial offers.

"To the city may be," I rode the bike. We're down the endless streets. Enjoy this evening. Towards the city center that has a garuda icon that looks dashing from all directions.

The echoing takbir grooves and crowded streets filled with vehicles drove out all the cold that hit. The night wind is no longer there. I didn't think I'd spend the night with Danial.

By midnight we reached the city, the square was filled with men of reverence. I took a seat in a wooden chair with Danial. Listening to the voices praising the Majesty of his Lord.

"Beautiful, yes" I pointed up and said admiring the beauty of the sky full of stars.

Danial turned to look at me and squeezed my hand. It felt like this had not been done for a long time. It felt like this longing had already found its master.

"I'm happy to be able to spend the night with you" Danial expressed his feelings.

"How's your father doing?" I asked Danial, fear still always looms in my mind.

"Can I really hang on to hope and believe in you Dan," I said.

The sound of fireworks blowing through my daydream. Takbir nights in my city are always festive every year. A truly grand celebration, welcoming the long-awaited holiday, which only happens once a year.

"Go home, yuk," Danial took me home, he took my hand to the parking lot.

At one o'clock Danial took me home, the situation in my village was very crowded. A lot of people are still passing by at crossroads. My mother waited in front of the house while chatting with neighbors.

"Thank you, Le, we've been taken home" my mother welcomed Danial.

"Together buk," Danial shook my mother's hand.

"I want to go home" Danial asked for permission to resign.

"Don't stop by yet" my mother offered. Danial just smiled and passed.

I hugged my mother and invited her into the house. I put my body in the chair. My mother and sister opened some bags that I brought, souvenirs for them.

I lay on my bed, looking at the blue roof of my room. Time passed quickly, the feast had arrived. The most awaited day for all Muslims. The umpteenth day without a real father with me. Suddenly, a feeling of sadness invaded me.

It's been a long time since I've enjoyed lying under my blanket and sleeping with my pillow at risk for the country's children, always coming home in a matter of days. Moreover, my workplace still requires me to work on the last day of fasting. It felt so long ago that I had forgotten how enjoyable it was to break my fast with my family.

I may have been asleep for two hours. The morning prayer had echoed, my mother woke me up. My eyes glazed over after Mom came out of my hands. A shadow of past memories came back to me.

Before the divorce, it was my father who always woke me up, while my mother was busy heating the chicken opor. Pack rice and side dishes to take to the mosque. There is also Chicken Lodho that should not be missed, one of the traditions of celebrating Lebaran day in my village.

My father carried me and bathed me when I was a child. Mother prepared a new dress that became the dream of a child my age first. All typical cakes from nastar to chips are neatly arranged in a jar on the table.

But now everything has changed, I don't know how many times my father's leaflet has never been next to me again. His attitude has changed a lot even just to contact me he often forgets.

Moments like this are always moments where I miss him a lot. Longing for the old togetherness, when we could have a conversation with each other, telling a variety of fun things. Father and mother are always full of happy hues. Until finally the incident existed, killing all smiles and giving birth to quarrels that could no longer be saved. And knock the hammer in the court that gets it all done. Farewell is the only way between them.

It was like opening an old wound for me, as the other family rejoiced in celebrating, deep down, there was a glimmer of hope in vain, that my mother's father was impossible to celebrate together. They are happy with their new family. Remaining I am always difficult to forget, even though my lips expressed a beautiful smile.