HERBS

Guzel Gul

I walked to the city of Medan, North Sumatra province, Indonesia which feels thick multi-ethnic aroma that still survives for thousands of years. Not surprisingly, Medan has been one of the candidates for the capital of Indonesia in the past.

The multi-ethnic symbol is scattered in almost every corner of Medan, offering a different side to the largest city on the beautiful island of Sumatra. The city is also so many amazing tourist attractions, as well as languages that seem unique from other regional languages.

This city has also been a center of gambling, drugs to be called a city of demons. As I heard from my maternal uncle, Uncle Ramli. Wife of the original uncle of the Malay-fingered Medan girl. Aunt Zahratunnisa's name.

Under a shady tree in the garden of the Al-Mahsun Grand Mosque in the rainy season, I sat down to enjoy a warm coffee purchased in front of any mosque. In front of me sat a young woman. Her eyes remind us of the dark color suiseki stone, with a green veil inside and there is another like a scarf covering her hijab, a long black color.

He was sitting next to another tree with someone whose face was less friendly but quite in tune, they looked like twins, ah I think so. There was no special scene from them, what made it unusual was that there was a red hue on both cheeks of the man I said there was no friendly impression.

In my heart, I tried to compose a sentence will I give you a smile and will you give me a red hue like the man got? with the most beautiful smile.

But alas, it was only wishful thinking and conscience. Unrealized because I did not dare.

This memory piece happened ten years ago when I was seventeen. I was traveling to Medan before becoming a first-degree student in Lombok, West Nusa Tenggara. I traveled by relying on the kindness of uncle Ramli and aunt Zahratunnisa who gave me more pocket money.

I like to travel alone rather than in groups. Because in my opinion, if we are alone, we can freely express ourselves.

I was still there when the man left the beautiful woman. On that day I decided to dare to talk to her in her perfunctory manner.

When I said my greetings, he returned my greetings with courtesy. It is like a beautiful rose. In that instant I also named it in my heart with: Guzel Gul or in english called Lovely Rose.

"If you don't mind, may I join you, Guzel Gul?

He replied with a smile, "Of course. But what did the last two words mean?"

I smiled and said that it was only a greeting of respect for women in Turkey. I'm not lying, it's Turkish.

Then we got to know further. Her name is Lily Azusenna. I call her Lily. He said he lived here. Native people of Medan. She used to spend time in this place almost every day with her future husband. This man was her husband. His name is Hasyim Natama. They are fifteen years old.

I used to think that they were twins or at least just brothers and sisters. It was a pity that I fell in love with him at first sight.

For the next two days, after returning home from school, Lily took me for a walk and showed me the corners of the city where she lived.

We walked down the rocky path to the temples made by Buddhists, laying on the rocks on the edge of an artificial lake while enjoying the beauty of the park.

"Is Hashim not with you today?"

He nodded with a sad expression. I would like to ask the meaning of his anger. Millions of questions came to my mind. But close because I do not want to ruin the sweet moment that I am enjoying.

We spent the afternoon and ended the day by going to the nearest mosque and worshiping there.

For two days together, we never touched physically, even glued palms, because he was a Muslim woman who should be raised, so Uncle Ramli taught. I admit I fell in love with her and was eager to touch her delicate white hands, but she already had a future husband who loved and was loved by her. If not, I would have already expressed my feelings and asked for it, then freely touched her beautiful decorated hand.

Frankly, I don't have the courage to tell the truth.

So, I decided to leave Medan, hitchhiking people's cars to a place I never remembered his name. But a few days later I surrendered and returned to Medan, sitting under a shady tree near the Al-Mahsun Grand Mosque.

Before long Lily and Hashim came on their bikes. Lily introduced me to Hashim who didn't like me very much. He took me somewhere with Lily

They ride bicycles together. While I was cycling using Hashim's. We went to a place so vast as pasture. Beautiful riveting eyes. Hashim says this will be Lily's if they get married later. I don't want to interpret what the man meant to say to me.

We had lunch with a gulai omelet brought by Lily. I have never had lunch with a gulai omelet menu. We ate the prairie area's dishes.

When she was done, Lily bailed to meet her father at the cottage near the meadow where the three of us spent time. His father was an influential person in Medan.

"My cousin Lily Azusenna used to tell me about you, Akhtar." Hashim said coldly.

Is that a statement of a cousin's jealousy? Wait, I don't understand!

"Cousin? Isn't the husband-to-be?"

I could not hide the astonishment when Hashim said that they were mating.

"Swives are not mahrams. It's legal to marry a cousin, from any side."

Knowledge like this alone does not know, how can you guide it?! Wouldn't it be better for me? Our nasab is also connected."

"A feeling like that can happen to anyone" the man continued.

"There is no intention of me to do evil, Hashim."

"It should be. We are from an upper class family. Have you seen Sahaya's servant with Amira in real life?"

Those words hurt me. But it is also my motivation.

I still have time in Medan before flying back to Lombok, but the longer I stay in the city, the more it hurts.

It hurts to be unable to manage the feeling between love and the desire to express it to Lily. But more than that Hasyim Natama is the biggest reason.

The next day, I said goodbye to the couple at the mosque the first time we met. We stood in front of the vast courtyard of the mosque built since the Deli sultanate was victorious, and I finally expressed my feelings for the last time and as quickly as lightning left them. When I turned around, I heard Lily say something softly. This ear catches a deep sense of disappointment in his soft words. While Hashim threatened me through the glare of his sharp eyes. I am so sorry and feel like a fool.

In the new school month I started my studies in Lombok, while Lily, I guess I know, is still in Medan with her family and of course her lover.

After the breakup, we lost contact. For a few years.

After finishing college, I went to Palembang and Pekanbaru for one and a half years before going to Batam. In Batam, my biological family once settled before we were scattered.

Sometimes I think of Lily, but I just remember her in memory.

Years passed, the world changed, but my sense of the Medan girl did not fade in the least.

I ventured to send a message on her social account thanks to one of the colleagues who because of God's fate turned out to be Lily's friend too, Amaya the Japanese girl. We can finally make contact again. He worked and settled in this city as well, Batam. A happy surprise for me.

He told me that before my message came, he dreamed of meeting Hashim Natama in his dream. His cousin and ex-girlfriend who died three years ago.

Lily Azusenna asked where Hady m Natama was going, and she replied, "God told me to lead you to someone who loves you more than I do, and above her love for you, and above her, he loves God."

Lily asked again, "Who do you mean?"

But the man did not answer.

I believe what I meant was my name. Suddenly I remember what happened in the meadow ten years ago. The place I went with them.

We exchange emails every day.

From this intense communication we realized that we both loved tranquility, books and art. We also enjoyed watching movies. Finally we came to a conclusion: we had better justify this love.

He returned to Medan for several weeks and the following year we married and settled in Palembang because I moved to the capital of South Sumatra.

I have not spoken love since the previous confession. I was embarrassed, and only dared to write it on a piece of paper in the diary.

Ten years did not erase that taste. The love left in front of one tree, near the mosque in Medan, was not lost.

Time pass. This year our marriage is entering its seventh year.

A few years ago, when we spent time in the farm fields on the land of Medan owned by my father-in-law, I received a package from an old friend in Batam. In addition to the book I need, it contains a letter that is more than a dozen years old last that I sent from Lombok to my good friend, Aji. I dare to express my feelings. One of the letters he wrote was:

... Her name is Lily Azusenna, I named her Guzel Gul, a beautiful 15-year-old girl. With him, I spent a wonderful day in the city. He lived in this city and his speech was soft and good. If I hadn't left the city, I might have been caught in a strange romance because I knew I might have fallen in love with her forever.

I smiled remembering it. My wife next door asked about the package that made her husband smile.

"It's nothing, My wife. Just proof that I love you so much."

Cheeks meet. I used to want him to make my cheeks meet. But now I prefer if he meets because of this self.

"I love Brother." Lily said shyly.

I returned his words with a hug, then kissed his forehead. Yes zawjatii, uhibbuki hubban jamman. My wife, I love you too.

This story is simple. My love is simple. It is as simple as the way God surprises His servants. Maybe not like a great love story like the other famous lovers. However, I am happy even more than a special word because I love him because of God.