Flavour Bias
The Iyash Wiyahasa Ardhana
Iyash Wiyahasa Ardhana's. The next two days maybe he'll be the talk. Actually I've heard that name a lot because Om Hasa has always been proud of him, but I've never seen his face. It's just that when I was a kid I met him, once or twice, I forgot. All I remember is that my family was invited to dinner at his house.
I used to admire him for one thing. I was six years old at the time and maybe she just graduated from Elementary School. That night my clothes accidentally exposed to the yellow seasoning soto sauce. I cried because my body felt sticky and my clothes looked so dirty, when it was my favorite white shirt.
As I was crying, I heard a voice from the side. “Use this.”
I stopped crying and looked at him. From that moment on I admired his kindness. I went home wearing his shirt and I still keep it. Whether he remembers it or not, but I think he's long forgotten.
For six-year-olds the incident was quite effective, however, after this incident, it may be that the effect disappears. The man I once admired turned into a rude and haughty figure.
“Why is this so?” I asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Om sorry for Iyash's attitude towards you. Iyash was not like that. But, after the accident everything changed, the doctor said that he couldn't remember a part of him. Om reckon it is one of the reasons he became so grumpy as he is now.”
I raised my face and looked at Om Hasa. “Why Om say that the late Papa has a stake here?” tanyaku carefully.
“Before for you safe.”
“Aman from son Om?” my guess.
“Iya, but–”
“True this,” I interrupted Om Hasa's words. “What if I get in trouble because Om lied about Papa having shares here?”
“You are calm, Om promise there will be no more problems.”
“Udah ah, it's okay. Icha go home.” I got up quickly. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. If he was again, I'd be lazy to see him.
I chose to sit back and turn my back on the door, so I didn't know who was coming.
“Log in,” by Om Hasa.
“Pak, there are people who want to apply for jobs.”
“Loh.” Om Hasa is rising. “In what field? We do not need new employees,” said Om Hasa while walking near the door.
“Yesterday Mr. Iyash who asked to open a job vacancy again.”
“You call Iyash now.”
“Good, Sir.”
After the woman left, I got back up. “Om, I'm home aja.”
“Wait here, we finish everything.” Om Hasa's face looks upset. “What do Iyash want,” murmured.
Not long after Om Hasa's youngest son came. “Why again, Pa?”
“Why are you opening a job vacancy again?”
“Everything is clear, ‘kan, Pa. Yesterday three applicants no one entered the criteria, so naturally I look for a more competent.”
Sounds like Om Hasa. I myself did not dare to look at the arrogant man's face.
“How many people apply?” ask Om Hasa.
“One man, sir, is now in the lobby,” replied the woman I haven't seen her face.
“If men accept aja,” said the arrogant man.
“Yash, the period you receive people because of gender, not because of ability.” Again I heard Om Hasa was so upset.
“Usually women are ribet and men are much simpler.”
“Icha,” call Om Hasa.
I was forced to get up and turn around. I can avoid that songong face again.
“Because you have been accepted here, how about you join the project.”
I stared at Om Hasa.
“Well, but, Pa–”
“Just like the others, Iyash is just an employee. What determines you to work here is Om, not him.”
The man walked first and we followed him from behind including the woman. We were in one elevator, however, no one started the conversation including Om Hasa.
Suddenly my phone rang and a call came in from Aunt Mila.
“Om, pick up the phone,” my permission on Om Hasa who was standing in front of me with the man, while I was standing behind him with the woman earlier.
Om Hasa turned her head and nodded, while her arrogant son stood upright without moving his head in the slightest, but I believe he glanced with the tail of his eyes.
“Halo, Aunt,” my handkerchief after the call I received.
“Where are you, Cha?” asked Aunt Milla directly without answering my greeting.
“Icha in the office.”
“Oh has started work?”
“Iya, Aunt.”
“Cha.” Aunt Milla sighed. “His grandfather Edgar died.”
“Innalillahi wa Inna ilaihi rojiun.”
“But, until now Edgar could not be contacted.”
“Hah, where is Brother Edgar, Aunt?” I stepped out together with the others and walked towards the lobby.
“That's it, no one knows where he went, whereas his number was active, but our call no one picked up.”
“Yeah, brother Edgar where? Don't let his HP miss at home.”
“Ndon't know. If you can come here, Cha.”
I stared at the back of Om Hasa and his son who were walking towards the lobby. “Icha is not good, Aunt, the first day of permission. Later asked the relationship Icha the same family who died what. Too far to clear.”
“Ya. You try Edgar's phone, who knows your phone was picked up.”
“Iya, Aunt.”
“If there is any news. This is Aunt again at Om Ganjar's house. We do not go to the hospital, help Faran aja ready everything, because Aruna does not want to leave the room.”
“Yes reasonable, Aunt, Brother Aruna, ‘kan again grieving.”
“Ehhem!”
I blinked when his youngest son Om Hasa turned to look at me. “You are in the office, not allowed to linger receiving phone.”
“Tante, u–”
I was struck when his youngest son Om Hasa took my phone by storm. He turned it off, then returned the phone to me.
“I wouldn't be like this if you were being polite,” said the man.
I just realized that we've been in the lobby since. A tense-faced man was standing in front of us.
“You will compete with him, the nicest will keep working here and the ones that can not work well please lift your feet and look for another job,” said Kak Iyash firmly. [Sorry I have to say his name and pin ‘Kak’ in front of him because he is older than me somehow].
“So, I was accepted?” ask the tense-faced man.
I don't think I was as stiff as he was when I applied for a job yesterday. The one with my face was red because it was upset to hold back the anger when insulted and dragged by Iyash.
“Trial,” confirmed Brother Iyash.
“How long if may I know?”
“Can be a day, two days, a week, maybe even a month, we see later.” Brother Iyash glanced at me and I chose not to see him, or else I would hate him even more.
“Yash, Papa should talk to you.”
I raised my face and looked at Om Hasa who had just spoken to her son.
“About him?” Brother Iyash pointed at me. “We can talk about that later, which is clear they will stay in probation.”
I wet my throat. Om Hasa looked at me concerned. He may be afraid that I will not get away with it because what I heard earlier, Akbar has been working for four years in the same company.
