High School Autobiography (Hero Generation)

CHAPTER 5: MABAL DAY ...

“Laisa, the school made this project is not arbitrary, the school wants every student to graduate with life problems that are equally overcome ...,” said Kak Farka cut.

”This is too much, why the hell? I just write a book that looks like a diary, right?“ I cut off Kak Farka's explanation combined with my device against the book to be made.

”Not excessive, this caution,“ bela Kak Farka.

”Well, now you know where my home address is from? And what's that big brother's job is spying on High School kids?“ I asked insinuatingly, until my chin was raised together with my two eyebrows that were raised giving a big impression.

”From Teacher Sukada, he asked me to ask you to make a school separation project ..“, said Kak Farka who hung his sentence gave time to prepare himself with a sentence that seemed difficult to accept.

”... sister's job is the social spirit of the community,“ he continued looking at me seriously and carefully.

”Hahahaha, it is not clear exactly Kak, what does Kak mean?“ I laughed mockingly and tried to ascertain the extent of Farka's sanity.

There, in front of me, my beloved husband, in his relaxed face, looked at me and looked at Brother Farka in turn, apparently, my husband already knew the work of the bad-tempered Kak Farka.

”Look, it is easy for us to work under the supervision of psychologists and psychiatrists, or say I am a social spy of the community,“ explained Kak Farka.

“Hehehe, is there a job like that? Who pays? Who's the boss?” many underestimate. 

“Kakak is not paid, this is done voluntarily, of course the big brother boss is the principle of his own brother,” replied Kak Farka.

“Loh? Very strange,” my ledek to the point that I let my forehead frown. 

Still without a smile, Kak Farka's sight was serious towards me and it seemed that Kak Farka's words were a fact to be believed, however, I was still doubtful.

“If the person you helped successfully solve his life problems, that's the pay of brother,” added Kak Farka and that's also a fact to believe, but, again, I still have doubts.

“Loh, but right, as long as humans live, humans must have problems,” dugaku.

“Not so ...,” refute Kak Farka.

And for some reason, I was even carried away by the flow of conversation that made me more curious. 

“... We are not actually aiming to help society clearly or cure human mental disorders, we are not siding with criminals or heroes, we are neutral, we are neutral, what we form is only the best history and tell the best history for the sake of the advancement of the next generation, the human mentality will be formed by an event, a thing that is able to touch the soul, he said, that is sometimes the truth for him, well, social care, and noble ethics that is our goal, and to form such, there must be an event that shakes the morale of every human being, that history, the context that we form, caring is the foundation, psychology is the basis,” explained Kak Farka looking at me seriously.

”Wait ... In fact, I'm confused instead? Is there a yes, a neutral person?“ sindirku.

”Not the guy, but the SMA autobiography project, that's the neutral one, no matter he's a stupid woman, or he's a poor man, all have the right to write his autobiography.“ Brother Farka denies, and in fact I remain confused.

”This brother works alone?“ my search.

”No, but clearly, our goal is to make history and save the next generation,“, said Kak Farka with a forward look at the void.

No smile, not even a flat expression, charismatic romance Kak Farka still implies seriousness, and this I must take seriously, although in fact, I still doubt it.

”But, it all seemed a mere hallucination, very uninspired.“ I mocked looking at my husband and sister Farka in turn.

After that, the atmosphere became silent, three seconds we had gone through just spending time to be silent breathing, especially the two adult men in front of me still put on a serious face, until at the end of the seventh second, the second, Brother Farka began to bow while sighing, he was about to end this conversation, which I consider to be nonsense.

”Ya already ...,“ said Kak Farka resignedly.

Then, his dark black face and netra were highlighted on my charismatic face.

”... fight for our underclassmen, and don't give up before it's too late,“ concluded Kak Farka earnestly giving me an important message.

In the end, Brother Farka said goodbye to hurry home, said thank you had spoken from his mouth, only, it was unfortunate, the rest of the night I spent to rest, he said, replenishing wasted energy, in order to welcome a mysterious tomorrow, as well as my husband.  

       In the morning, as the wind raced silently, the bright sunlight that exposed the dark shadows from the night veil, and the breakfast in the dining room was settled, I smiled as I flexed my dimples, automatically my husband touched my dimples with his little fingers, kiss marks from him, it might look strange, it's just, if you like it, or even it has become a habit, that's not weird anymore, especially the habit that I like very much, the romance that my husband's initiative did, it's been doing since a month of our marriage.

But sometimes I ask, ask my imagination, on the recesses of the book, is romance something exciting? Or is romance a disgusting thing?

I like fiils more humorous, and romance to me is exciting.

But wait, my brain whispers back, something so ridiculous to question, is sacrifice romantic?

Damn it, I was always confused by those two things, humorous and romantic, how not, I was young, he said, my curiosity about things that are taboo or even on trivial things sometimes makes me always curious.

I once asked my husband what kind of romance was that? Or what is humorism? it's just that the answer actually makes me rotate the brain more vigorous, confusing, even abstract, which is what makes me until now question these two things.

Whether it was excessive or not, obviously, as long as I liked it, I would do it.

“Be careful at school,” message my husband with a knotty smile.

Even though his hand had been lowered, I was still standing a bit clumsy beside my husband's left, fixated as if frozen.

And even my beloved husband was still sitting on the wooden chair of the dining table, sitting back to enjoy the rest of his hot chocolate. 

“Loh, what's up? Your pocket money less?” surprised my husband with a probing look.

The question made me subdue the view of shame, wrapped in fear, how not, I have a request that can make him angry, what else, often I ask this request, so it is difficult to say rarely, rarely, I shook my head, affirming that I was not short of pocket money.

“I want to go downtown,” I said smoothly and my fear began to annihilate, only I still subdue the look of not daring to look at the handsome face of my husband, even though in fact, from the end of my eyes, his face is still visible.

“Ooooooh ...” My husband's mangosteen just realized my silliness.

Then I hurriedly clasped his left hand, clutching it firmly with my strong hope of getting my husband's permission. The bonus, I put a face to the wall. 

“By yes, can yes ...” I plead so earnestly.

“Self?” ask my husband to make sure.

“Together Anka, my best friend!” I answered without hesitation.

My husband was pensive in consideration, considering what decision was worth giving, his countenance implying contemplation, his hands crossed, making me remove my grip from his hand. Three seconds passed, then the seventh my husband made his decision.

“But tomorrow you have to go to school,” my husband said with a serious look at me.

“Iya, tomorrow I go to school, so can you?” I answered earnestly and tried to ascertain the correctness of his permission.

“Bby, but be careful.” My husband allows while looking forward, and his tone is really soft. 

“Thank you! Thank you.” I am grateful while bowing respectfully to my husband.

How joyful I, my kind and good-natured husband, have given me the space of freedom I had hoped for, my dimples still curl beautifully on my cheeks, I cannot see them, but I can feel it.

I set foot full of satisfaction to the garage door, the door between the kitchen and the dining room, in fact, the door is more often used than the front door of the house. 

And how grateful I am to have a husband like Harfa, I have always been and always been made happy, sometimes I think, maybe this is what household happiness is like, how not, how not, the rumors or even the hearsay that I have heard, many women aspire to it, more than that, I think all of humanity wants happiness in marriage, even all the teenagers began to aspire to it, only, there was a question that still stuck in my head.

Is it possible that household happiness is like my situation? Or perhaps there is an important basis for acknowledging that my home life has achieved happiness.

I was too young to conclude well in my household, let alone my young age, our marriage was still two years less, many times, he said, the thought of household happiness continues to haunt me, therefore, as a free young man, I do not want if this marriage is just an excuse for my orphaned character to be covered.

Is it possible that the household is just a matter of continuing to live? Or maybe marriage is a profession? Or maybe it was all a ritual? I was even confused.

In that sense, my wise husband once said, happiness is a need, pleasure and the rest is a need, precisely an essential need, especially whoever the person is, whatever the form of work, whatever the need, so the essence of the principle is happiness and pleasure.

That is why I always and always want to embrace all the happiness I can, school, friends, household, social, whatever life form, happiness is the point.

“Wait!” my husband suddenly asked me to stop.

Suddenly, I stopped my footsteps, turned my body back, looked at my husband's handsome face, with shabby cheeks that curled because I was still smiling happily.

“Remember! Be careful ... once again, be careful.” the sentence my husband uttered was so earnest that his message should not be underestimated.

“Hem.” I just nodded steadily despite that, I responded to my husband's message full of earnestness.

Finally, on this Thursday, I was able to go back to playing without having to go to school, it felt of course happy, indeed almost every day of the week or three days of the month, he said, I must always take a day of truancy, it's I do because I feel saturated with school life.

I've changed schools twice because I often truant, the beginning of my High School is quite far from home, so ditching it is better than getting angry because it's too late, then my second high school silly even further away, right in downtown Artana, every morning I had to get up just so I could ride the school bus, so back to truant is the best way not to be late and scolded by the teacher, yes, although sometimes I was always scolded by my parents for being caught ditching and ditching again, yes, I still did not heed the advice of my late parents, according to them, for the sake of educating me to be more time-disciplined, I had to be schooled some distance from home. I'm a spoiled child who is always spoiled, as a result I always can not appreciate the time, a lot of lethargy, even too lazy to eat my own food, right! From toddler to Junior High I always fed my parents every time I eat, not every day either, just too often to be difficult to say sometimes, therefore, it is, discipline is important for people like me, even though in fact, a slacker like me is still lazy.

One important thing! Anka my best friend, went to school just to be with me.

So at that time I proposed to change schools again, schools that are not too far away but not too close, sounds strange indeed, certainly a moderate distance from home, until one day, he said, I was introduced to Harfa, my future husband who is now my husband, from where Harfa advised me to attend Lily Kasih High School, thankfully, after successfully joining, I feel at home at Lily Kasih High School until now.

'KRING-KRING-KRING'

My bike bell rang, the sign I had arrived at the appointment place, sure enough, Anka was standing waiting for me on the highway lotto, smiling and greeting each other was the first thing we did, Anka was, then we changed positions, Anka was riding my bike, while I was sitting in the back seat, he had to hang his carrying bag on the handlebars of the bike, then after that, we went to the city center.

The highway is not so crowded, even though these hours are hours of work, we do not talk much, silent to enjoy the city air is rather cool with a membrane of pollution, pollution, pollution, commercial buildings that begin to show signs of busyness, until the terotoar that began to be used by pedestrians is a view of our trip.

Don't think! Although the city of Artana has a myriad of evils, but, the order of the city and the structural arrangement of the city makes the city of Artana look like a modern city, precisely a developed city.

Maybe we can't dream

Or curl up an impossible cloud

We may lose sight of how empty we are

Until we fill it with praise

      But I'm sure it's you Laisa

      The undetectable rose

     The moon does not need to circle

      Or unnecessary clouds in the sky