do not read alone

THE ILLEGITIMATE PRAYER

That time, not the year when exactly.dates and hours. Four years ago I forgot. But it didn't happen. I never wrote it. In a diary or a friend's computer. But it's only stored in memory. If it is included in the catagory of the day, it enters Friday.

And when Jogja who did not have the cost, I went here and there. Go to my friend's boarding. Come to my other friend's room. That's why I tell you who want to go to your place, my friend: "e...iya, my friend, where are your costs? when am I going there?"

Then I said: "My cost is only 15 units, which area do you want?"

Still remember your gaze at that time, your face looks shocked even almost fainted when I heard I had a lot of costs.

Friday became a mandatory day to listen to the sermon for me as a Muslim. Therefore, I always stay in a room close to where to listen to the khotib. Therefore, I always go to be in Condong Chess, which is indeed the mosque in addition to the boarding places where I finally was at that time. There are 6 boarding rooms there. 3 against 3 facing each other.I can sleep anywhere.

It was a bright Friday night. It was made of stars that were pleasing to the eye. Seen by me and my friends from the bottom of the floor kos.Hilang already your mystical aura o night Friday. The middle of the night that you said you were more haunted, we were even more cheerful. There was no horror in our hair. It was because of the turn of dominoes that were often shuffled by the Haji who was full of coffee streaks on his face. Until morning. Until the star disappears and the sun is replaced. Until I went to sleep there was no dream disturbance.

"Aoommhh.." Although it feels relaxed I feel awakened by you. But still not calm. And finally it became more and more unsettled. That's over 5 minutes from 12. Why do you, my friend, not slow down the clock so that we keep our first seven sharpened eyes. Now look! your friend is in a hurry. A lazy and limp look headed towards the mosque from behind the window garden while squatting down and looking down.

Oh some people started flocking to the mosque. Those are the ones who are a little lazy. Because if the diligent already from half an hour two dozen. And the diligent is already there but in a small way. Already sitting in the mosque. Maybe dzikr. Probably sleepy too.

Shame on me coming out slowly. Towards the toilet on the left side of the kos. close to the mosque as well. By berwudlu. Only. Without shower. Wh why?for fear of the water mengganguan people who are dzkir.

No. gabe. I did not go straight to the mosque. Because I know that these pants that are being worn are not legal according to sharia rules if used for prayer. Covered dikos, sidewalks, stamped, and motorized friends who rarely wash. I haven't washed for three months. As a result, the black color of the jeans was changed after getting a mixture of brown color from street dust. That's why I believe the jeans that have accompanied me everywhere are no longer holy. And the rules require me to clean the pants first if I still want to pray with these pants. I don't want to think about Friday prayers in wet pants. And so, I have to borrow. But the person who had the room I was sleeping in had already left. Then I just search for the scabbard, permit minjamnya later.

Ooh.sarung turns out you're next to the closet. Lying down with a fold that is not clear shape.

"For the preach schedule this time...."

Ooh..your voice o takmir mosque ! look at me being made in a hurry. Take me straight to the scabbard. The more in a hurry also I fold it with an unclear fold also above the stomach. Then leave with half a run. That's all I did because your voice was, O takmir mosque!, will cause khotib to stand up and preach.

I was already in the courtyard of the mosque, after his feet had taken off both sandals. There are a lot of people sitting in this yard. It seems like a lot more comfortable outside than having to be inside the mosque. Though the contents in the mosque there are still many empty. But I didn't. For this time. I want to be very special. Amynn. All in order to hear and see clearly the preacher preached.

It's me whose feet are already inside. His body and heart are like that too. I took a position in the middle of the mosque room, because it looked empty. There are only a few people there. The three lines in front are filled as well as the two rows in the back.

Pray me. That is what is recommended when entering the mosque. It is called shalat tahiyyatulmasjid. Two old raka'at. I did it in the middle of the mosque. Looks like someone else has. I slowly did it. It looks like something special. Raise both hands, read the words takbir and put it on the chest. Then came down after reading Al-fatihah and the letter of An-nas.

From the head to the stomach down. I try to straighten it straight until it reaches about 90 degrees. Both palms are taped tightly to the left knee. Here it is; I am in a ruku. Khusyu it feels so much.

At that time, suddenly the wind blew felt firmer than before the ruku. It feels more and more penetrating inward. The more it penetrates, the colder it feels. Buyar has been my piety. Finally, I tried to figure it out; why did this happen? why is it that the wind is getting louder? and after the taste turns out the source of the wind comes from behind. Yeah, from the ass. Oh my god, what is with all this? Is there a hurricane?a tornado?or **pope?

No, it's not possible, if it happens, surely the people in the mosque will be excited. let alone tornadoes, it seems only intended for America. The dust will certainly be a lot of if there is a**pair. That's why I'm sure it's not.

I finally thought back to this coldness. The longer it gets cold. Pretty piercing. Even up to the front. What's the matter? Curious. Slowly my hands moved backwards. Turns out he's a little shy. Thankfully, it was you, cold. The shame was gone even a little.

My hands started to move backwards. The left one remains in the position of the ruku. The part of the buttocks that starts the right is palpable. Kanan hinted this part was the source of the cold. From the top of the right starts. There's nothing strange, a tangled glove with a wedge of panties in it. The right began to wonder. What exactly is going on? Get him down a little bit. Slowly. Keep going down after making sure that the buttocks do not happen anything. When the right palm slowly went down, about 5 cm from the buttocks, the right fell.

"oh God, what is this?"

Turns out, this holster is hollow just below the buttocks. This is the source of the cold. Pretty big. My palms went into that hole.

"Why was this not detected before?"

"Is this the result of a hurry?"

Already, that I discuss later with friends, and of course friends of the owner of the sarong.

Now, this is what I should be prioritizing: getting out of the mosque because my prayers are already invalid.

My heart raged; the congregation behind me must have laughed at this holster. Except those who sleep. But pretending not to know, my prayers are also invalid.

"Directly go out or continue the new prayer 1 rakaat?go straight out or continue?get out or continue?"

Whether I can get a choice of answers from where, suddenly I choose the option to exit. Directly without continuing the prayer. Slowly stand up from the ruku. Turn around with a smile. Shame that rushed me to step. Without looking at the people behind me.

Forgive your servant God, worship you not to the end.

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