Fall of Dream Pesantren (Move WRITE)
Cheerful Brother Sister
Two weeks passed, Ammar's memory slowly recovered. The herbs given by doctors proved to be effective. Little by little he recalled who he was, a tragedy that caused his memory to be damaged, until his thesis was soon completed.
“If for example it is not possible to remember the contents of his thesis, I am ready to help compile again from the beginning”
Ammar recalled the words of his guidance physician yesterday and as soon as half of the contents of his thesis broke into the brain's memory tract, a quarter of it went nowhere. The concept of modern pesantren, benchmarks for the success of pesantren, until the methodology of handling santri bandel has been attached back to the brain. Almost all the contents of his thesis are the result of his first hyacinth for six years, of course with the development of thinking that reflects the capacity of a person like himself.
After reading the Koran, Ammar recalled his grandfather's dream when he was in a coma yesterday. He was still confused about what his grandfather meant in a dream about a tree and also a deposit at the end of the sky. Yesterday when I asked my grandmother, there were no results. His parents also had no idea what his dream meant.
“Come circumference, Mas.” His sister's voice broke his daydream.
Cloudy enveloped the village of Candi. Heavy rain continues to pour over the village until the dawn of Azan reverberate. The former rain last night was clearly visible when viewed. The morning sun is covered by clouds left over from the rain. The black cloud slowly faded away until the sunlight could pierce through it little by little.
“Come, Deck. To the rice field.”
Ammar went into his room to change clothes. He who originally wore a sarong and a cocoa shirt, now replace using black training pants with a black shirt. He chose a black shirt because black can absorb heat, suitable for a cold atmosphere like this. He immediately went out following his sister who was walking first.
The black clouds slowly drifted away changing with a morning sun smile on the eastern horizon. The cool fresh morning air plus the cold atmosphere due to heavy rain last night makes this morning the right time to fill the loneliness.
Ammar and Azmy walked together along the expanse of green rice fields that stretched to the edge of Juanda airport. They walked on until they found some fishing grounds there. Almost every few steps they meet with TNI members who exercise in the morning with their typical clothes.
On their right there is a barrier between the army area and the village of Cemandi, their village. While on the left there is a vast expanse of rice fields, towering up to touch the fence sign that it is the airport area. Not infrequently planes pass right above the village, sometimes also some soldiers practice parachutes in this area.
Azmy and Ammar sat in the middle of the green grass that had been cut. There they can see the plane taking off. Their memories go back to their childhood. Ten years ago.
“Let's hold your kite.”
“Okee .”
“Anyway.?”
“Siap ..”
“One ..”
“Three.”
Kites fly high into space. Little Azmy ran towards her brother who was fighting with the wind to keep the kite flying. Her brother was still pulling the kite thread in his hand.
“Try .. I'm Nyoba.” Azmy said to his brother who was still trying to raise the blue kite.
“Bentar, wait for calm first kite.”
After a few minutes of colliding with the wind, Ammar was finally able to make the kite calm at high altitude. He gave the thread to Azmy.
“Mas, no enemies come.”
Ammar looked in the direction that Azmy pointed. He saw a larger red kite approaching.
“Nih thread, you are the opponent.”
“If you lose how?” Azmy asked with a slightly sullen expression.
“Ya buy again to, My. Don't think that you lose”.
The two kite threads met and fought each other for strength. The two swiped at each other to cut off each other in order to meet who won the match.
After a long effort, Azmy lost. His kite thread broke off and lay on the ground. The burden that held the black thread was now gone. The thread now fell on the green grass. She cried.
“Already, My. Don't cry.” Ammar calmed his sister.
The two of them then sat back and forth on the green grass with the thread still clearly visible there. The morning dew looks beautiful at the end of the growing foliage. Ammar still trying to ease his sister's cries. He decided to change the subject.
It was a beautiful morning, especially with a loved one.
