Fall of Dream Pesantren (Move WRITE)

Pingin Soto's

“See . . . There's a plane.” Azmy's screams disperse Ammar's hallucinations about the two of them's past. It was a wonderful past in togetherness.

The siblings who have entered adolescence and adulthood are face to face. They seemed to want to say something but their tongues seemed to be held back until Ammar could open his mouth.

“The views here are beautiful, unchanged and still the same as ten years ago. Everything is beautiful, without any pollution. Very fast.”

Ammar pointed to one of the houses at the far end of the rice field, "Still remember that house?"

"Inget anyway, used to play hide and seek there."

Ammar smiles.

"Eh yes mas, I'm still wondering why the house was left in the rice fields like gini? Why do we have to be here when there is no other home than that?"

“Gini, My, that house used to belong to a Dutchman. The house is now uninhabited. Even so, the house still stands strong until now. That said, the house is haunted because it has not been occupied for decades.”

The two brothers looked at the house closely. The house is very majestic with white paint that dominates accompanied by a spacious but unkempt yard. Many walls are broken. Not a few of the foundations of the house are eaten by termites. Surprisingly, the house was still standing solidly without a single one collapsing inside.

“Iya, the house of the Dutchman still looks luxurious but the grass has elongated.”

Even though Ammar is in Jakarta and Azmy is in Pacet, they both never forget the good memories that are already attached to their brain memorials. The scene looked like a photo slide where they just set their brains together to show a portrait ten years ago.

The mood at that time. A childhood full of games and fun. Kites made only of patterned rattan and then wrapped in colorful paper can be very interesting for them. It becomes its own entertainment when the feeling is difficult to attack.

Unlike today, all of which are sophisticated. Kites, marbles, and other past games are slowly being eroded by modern twenty-century gadgets, smartphones, laptops, and other tools.

Now, all of that is a memory. The childhood objects of Ammar and his sister only serve as decorations in the warehouse. Starting from marbles placed in bottles, kite threads collected in one container, to some items that they both use to relieve their sadness.

Ammar and Azmy immediately set foot back home. The waving leaves try to pass the wind in order to touch their sweat-soaked clothes after a morning run. Azmy's sweat dripped onto the ground and she looked tired but still forced her stamina.

"This is eating a lot of good stuff." Chirps Ammar.

"Well, I want soto on the sidewalk there."

"OK, ntar abis ngeringin sweat at home directly go there."

"Ready."

It is true that Ammar alleged, today there is a schedule of soldiers practicing around the rice fields. Fortunately they have come out of the TNI rice field complex. Try not, they are either punished push-ups up to dozens of times, not infrequently up to hundreds.

Azmy laughed to see some of his friends who had not had time to jump and had to be yelled at by soldiers for breaking the rules. Ammar kept running while looking at the birds chirping at every twig they passed.

Fifteen minutes passed, they were ready and changed shirts as they were soaked in sweat.

"We tried Soto who was at the gas station there."

Ammar nodded, agreeing to his sister's request.

As a rustic morning breeze, so did the thoughts of the two of them. Fresh, fresh, without the burden of the mind. Critical moments have passed with their families. Now, just pick the happiness that resulted from the event.

The motor drove, now Azmy is driving because it does not pass the highway between cities. The morning breeze of the rice field massages spoiled every grain that is fruiting. Rice pests that are usually disturbing, now come swaying together to enjoy the fresh morning air in this village. Everyone is happy, and so are the sisters.