GOODBYE
28. silk line
The day keeps changing. That business, it's pitch black. There is no enlightenment....
“Pos...!” a cry from the front of the house.
Akas who was glaring in the living room also realized and immediately moved outside. Then they grimace each other. It turns out that the young postman was Jimmy, his friend at the mosque, his real name was Asep, but he wanted to be called Jimmy for his big fan Jimmy Hendrik, the world-class guitarist. He is not a child of the Kaum, but at home hanging out for a long time in the Great Mosque. You see, all clear. His friends are that. Anything, easy-easy including “candidates of paradise” as well. He said he was willing even if only part of his armpit in the back corner of the promised grand palace.
“What, Jim?” greet Akas.
“Oo, Akas you, huh? I guess who. Here, there is a letter from your girl,” said Jimmy, choosing from a pile of letters in his hand.
“Ah, I know you. Who is my girl?”
“No idea, but definitely a girl because the envelope is pink,” Jimmy patio looking for the letter. “Mana, yes? Well, this...,” he thrust it.
Akas shocked. It really is pink. How can? Hath it? And, right, There's an initial of “AH” on the back side. Wuh, the face of the jaka immediately moonlighted in broad daylight. His smile was the style of a recumbent crescent....
“Hoei, stay aware dong,” reprimand Jimmy, kidding.
“Hehehe... thanks, Jim, Thank you very much.”.
“Ah, this is my job. There's an angpao, isn't there? Hehehe..”.
“Waduh, in crisis, Jim. If I am rich, I will love you. Appointment.”
“Really, yes? I collect your promise until nature barzakh.”
Akas nyerdeh, “lya.”
Taking on a little haha-hehe, Jimmy continued his noble delivery duties. Akas rushed to fulfill his duties. Darting like lightning into the room, install a slot key, then lie back on the mattress while deg-degan staring friendly Asih. Uh, ding's letter...
Apparently, it has been almost biweekly Asih returned to the Pesantren Randu Alas, Solo. It should not be seen to the mosque in the last few days for Maghrib and Fajr prayers. Akas had thought that the Asih circumvention procedure behind the great wall of China was getting tightened. Apparently, it's not here. Either there it is in order to mesantren again or simply hidden from the target of the eagle.
Through his letter, Asih said that he missed it very much. Same, Akas too. Imagine how long they haven't spoken? Near nian. While reading, Akas grimaced. Apparently, Asih knew that his lover “gatot” aka failed completely through the barren-gundul pacul pacol exam. Also know the action of Akas cowboys who look at the boundary of the fence. “Mas, keep loving me,” so the message at the end of the letter. The legendary always love stamp does not forget. All Asih remind lovers of the obligation of the sacred stamp on the reply letter. I'll smile haru, “Sure, I'll present you how much you want, dear.
Sorenya, bakda ashar, Akas immediately shot Kang Idung about why not tell him that Asih in Randu Alas. As it turned out, Kang Idung was shocked, he had no idea. “Mas anyway?” as it sounds. Maghrib, Arkam's turn was shot. Same, he was shocked. “Casak, anyway?” as it sounds. Meaning this was kept secret, deliberately hidden, then the three of them agreed carefully. Because, Akas said this is the only line of communication with Asih in the meantime. Both allies understood and understood.
“I see, the more sunny days just this one face,” Idung ticking Akas. “Ngak bluwek again kayak first, hehehe..”.
I laughed, happy he was so abused by his uncle. Getting brighter? Yes, there is a channeling. It is far in the eyes but nyecep in the heart, dalem nancapnya. Although only through a sheet of paper with semi-praise words, beautiful nian. Until Mbak who sells stamps at the Post Office pus memorize a bright face that is routinely nongol every week to send a letter to Pesantren Randu Alas, Solo. I think he knew that it was a cintrong letter, even though the envelope was “paravion”. Understandably, the radiant face of the sender.
Heemhh....
However, not yet four months of this brightness lasted, Akas again fretted. His last two letters were not answered. What was? Wh why? Then, the fret grew even more when the third letter also fared the same. Nothing else, nothing. Is this secret communication line detected “Kopkamtib”? Duh..
“What's up, Kang?” Akas asked Arkam, in between waiting for maghrib.
Arkam frowned. “Not yet, I'll see,” he said.
The damage, came a report from that good ally. As Akas had guessed, this silk path was dismantled....
The story, without any tendency, a cottage nanny tells Kyai Sanusi who is looking at her youngest daughter. He said, Asih always more beautiful when he received a letter from Magelang. The babysitter didn't mean anything bad, just delivered what she thought was good. He thought the letter with “paravion” envelopes whose edges were red-blue striped was from the Asih family. You see, Akas is also kebangeten anyway, excess spirit. Cucune eagle Batu Raden it paints the name “Nyi Mas Badriyah” as sender.
But, it means good, just to be smooth. I swear, there is no political purpose behind the profiteering of his elder brother Asih who is known to the kereng. It's all about the feeling of love as white as cotton. If he writes blatantly “Akas” or “cucune falcon Rock Raden”, right prone? Turns out, use “Nyi Mas Badriyah” moreover....
“This you, Kas, there-is just. Why not Nyi Blorong?” said Arkam, while mesem wry.
Should, I'll reply to the message. But, hard, her lips refused to be pulled up in a sore flattened moon. Keukeuh, he wants to go down. Yo wis, she continued to frown. You see, Akas was not able to deny his heart riots because of this fact.
“How to, Kang?” I asked for an allied view.
“Yaa, most you are patient..”.
“Waduh heavy, Kang. What if I go to Randu Alas?”
“Do not,” tukas Arkam, firmly. “Malah added problem.”
Akas sighed. So, hows? Arkam returned to shake. In the meantime, there doesn't seem to be a good idea. Just the bullet, just be patient. Forced, like it or not, Akas swallowed it. Uuh, bitter nian, like brotowali mixed bitter greens. Until his eyes were wet....
